The Sisters

Nidala’s wrist smacked into the marble floor in a way she hadn’t planned. Her arm had snagged on the servant’s apron, and she was yanked to the side, unable to brace herself. The two of them toppled to the floor like tangled puppets. The woman’s shriek was broken by the sound of silverware crashing all around them.

“What in the name of Apollo is wrong with you?!” cried the servant girl. Her name was Lexie, if memory served.

Nidala rolled over and snorted, “Watch where you’re going. What’s wrong with the air up there? Or can’t you see anything that’s not as high as your nose?”

“Hmph!” puffed Lexie. “I have never met anyone less grateful… less full of themselves...” Lexie’s words trailed off to a series of mumbled syllables as she knelt, and began collecting the scattered silverware.

Nidala thought humans looked funny when they had to pick anything off the ground. The way they scrunched their bodies together made them look like disproportionate frogs. As gnomes, Nidala and her sister had always looked up at the world around them. “So much the better,” their father had said, “forces ya to keep yer head held high. Never let anyone step on ya, y’hear?” Nidala had taken the advice to heart.

In a moment, Nidala had picked herself off the floor. She dashed away under the burning gaze of the servant, before any more harsh words could be exchanged.

The castle halls were quiet today. No guards bustling to drown out the patter of Nidala’s shoes against the marble floors. The windows were open, and a summer breeze lazed through the pink corridors. It carried the smell of flowers and fresh-cut hedges. Nidala’s eyes skirted just above the lower window sills, and she could see the great walled city spread out below the castle grounds. She massaged her wrist, and grimaced.

From around the corner came a high shout, followed by a whoosh and sizzle. A wisp of smoke emerged from a room nearby. The door was slightly ajar. Nidala walked over, stepped between the doors, then leaned on the open one, closing it.

“You might want to leave that cracked,” said Jaz. Nidala’s sister, just a few years older, stood alone in the center of a high-ceilinged room. Jaz wore a loose vest and shorts, and sweat clung to her face and hair. Five wooden dummies surrounded her in a half-circle. Three of them were badly charred, and one was missing an arm. Each had a glowing emerald embedded in its torso, and stood upright without additional support.

Two of the dummies charged forward, but Jaz swept her leg in a hook, then stomped the first into the second. They both collapsed. Jaz rushed towards the one-armed dummy. It swung, but Jaz dodged the wooden fist, then touched her palm to the dummy’s torso.

Nidala heard the first half of a word, then the dummy was thrust back by a fiery explosion.

At the same moment, Nidala saw a brownish blur as the fourth dummy swept behind Jaz.

“Head’s up!” Nidala shouted, and her arm shot forward out of instinct. A silver dagger spun through the air, and pinged into the approaching dummy’s nave. The emerald’s glow faded, and the dummy collapsed.

Jaz spun towards the last one and snapped her fingers. A burst of snow and ice tore apart the top half of its body, sending splinters flying everywhere. A wave of cold air rushed through the room, jostling the shutters. Nidala jumped out of the way as a frozen arm twirled past.

“Halt!” shouted Jaz. The remaining dummies stiffened, and Jaz let out a sigh. She wiped her brow and stepped aside to examine the carnage. “Huh, I thought I had it that time. That was supposed to freeze it solid, not eviscerate it.”

“No love for me?” Nidala asked.

“Hmm?” Jaz looked over with eyebrows raised, like she had just noticed Nidala. “Oh, thanks! That was a nice throw. Have you been practicing with Landry?”

“Pshh,” said Nidala. “Landry’s got better things to do than give me knife-throwing pointers.”

Jaz shrugged and smiled, then said, “So, what’d you swipe this time? I heard you from down the hall.”

Nidala held a key aloft between two of her fingers. It was as long as her middle finger, and the black paint had been all but chipped away.

“I may have found this when I bumped into Lexie…” Nidala said.

“She only ever seems to bump into people when you’re around.” Jaz said. Nidala smiled.

“I have that effect on some people.”

“What does it open?” asked Jaz, eyes alight. Behind her, the three dummies that still had glowing emeralds began to clean up the mess.

“Well…” Nidala inhaled deeply. “It might open the door to the crypt.”

Jaz tensed. “No. We’re not going back there.”

“Why not? Come on--”

“What are you thinking? Do you even remember what happened the last time we were in the catacombs?” Jaz reached her hands over her head like an attacking bear. “Giant monsters. Us barely escaping.”

“How could I forget?” breathed Nidala.

Jaz started moving towards the door, but Nidala grabbed her arm, and said, “But it’s different this time. We know where we’re going, and if we stay away from unnatural caverns--”

“We almost died.”

Nidala sniffed. “Technically, we did.”

Jaz shook her head. “We made a promise. I promised.” She pulled free of Nidala and walked to the door.

“It could be fun,” Nidala said, her voice deflated. She swallowed, but felt a lump growing at the back of her throat. “Look, it’s just…”

Jaz pulled on the handle, but Nidala threw herself into the door, holding it shut. Jaz cocked her head, then blinked at Nidala.

“We never do this kind of stuff anymore,” Nidala said. Jaz’s face softened. “Sure, we practice together, but it’s either that or studying. We used to take care of each other.”

“We still do,” Jaz said. “This time, I’m saving you. We’re not going.”

Jaz opened the opposite door, and walked out. Nidala rubbed her sore wrist, and slid back towards the wall.

Nidala placed the key in her bedside drawer, and closed it. She was bold, but not stupid enough to run into the catacombs by herself. The tunnels, some natural, some man-made formed an intricate maze that sprawled beneath the city. It connected the library, the castle, the colosseum, and almost every other landmark in Arojam. Monsters lurked there, and it was easy to get lost. A memory of green eyes and a skeletal shadows looming above her resurfaced. Nidala shivered.

She was older now: a teenager. And Jaz was nearly an adult. Nidala could already see Jaz’s priorities changing. Jaz spent more time than ever invested in her studies. When she wasn’t practicing in the training room or sparring with guards, she was at the library. Nidala hated that place. Nothing but smelly old books and creepy old men trying to get you to learn.

Nidala had learned plenty, and she hadn’t needed a book for any of it.

Outside, the sun was creeping toward the horizon. The first torches were lit, and a far-off clamor announced the evening rush of patrons traversing the streets. Tucked in back alleys were dozens of people and creatures who didn’t have any home to return to. Nidala remembered the faces of strangers who had been kind to her and her sister. She had an easier time remembering those who hadn’t. She bit her lip, then smiled.

Reopening the drawer, Nidala reach in, and pulled out a small pack and a bundle of clothes. She changed out of her day-to-day outfit, kept clean and crisp by the castle staff, and donned less-assuming attire. No matter your size, looking poor was the best way to go unnoticed in a city. Beneath a light tunic, she strapped a sheathed dagger.

Nidala stepped into the tower hallway, and was surprised to find Jaz exiting her room at the same moment.

“Where are you going?” asked Jaz.

“Peoplewatching,” said Nidala. “Wanna come?”

“Not tonight,” Jaz responded. She tapped a notebook in her hand. “Headed to the library for another round of studying.”

“Sounds lame.”

“Yeah, uh, it is.”

Nidala glimpsed a loose page sticking out from the middle of the notebook. Jaz turned to close the door behind her, and when she turned back to face Nidala the page was gone.

“Let’s walk down to the library together.” Nidala said.

“No, you don’t have to,” Jaz said. “You don’t like it there, anyway.”

“I promise not to rope you into any fights this time…”

“Or…?”

Nidala rolled her eyes, and said “Or stealing magic time-stones, or infiltrating blood cults, or--and I don’t usually don’t promise this far--finding secret monster lairs disguised as haberdasheries.”

“I’ll stick with a nice, calm walk alone with my thoughts.”

Nidala shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

The two gnomes descended to the inner courtyard and split up near the kitchen. Nidala stuffed two fresh dinner-rolls into her pack before being chased out by Lexie. The woman couldn’t notice a pickpocket, but was a marksman when it came to throwing wooden spoons. Nidala pitied any rodents that might scurry within range of Lexie’s barrage.

The first stars glittered in the indigo sky, set above bands of pink and orange to the West. Nidala nodded to the guards as she passed through the castle gates, and wound her way into the city proper.

Myrna’s Medicines took up the bottom floor of a stucco building in the North side of Arojam. It was one street back from the main thoroughfare that divided the city into thirds, and saw traffic mainly from tourists and lower-class residents.

Myrna, a rouge-ridden dark elf of ambiguous sex, glided past shelves of elixers, surgical equipment, and single-use spell scrolls. A green-striped suit highlighted the elf’s slim figure, and a pointed collar matched the sharp look of Myrna’s nose and ears.

“Welcome back,” Myrna said as Nidala entered the shop. “So good of you to return with all of your limbs attached.”

“Hey Myrna,” Nidala said. She examined the empty store. “Looks dead in here today.”

“Not dead enough, I’m afraid. My assistant, Gary, skipped town with a goblin in tow. Now, I’m in need of a new necromancer. Got any friends?”

“I don’t, but Jaz might know a few,” said Nidala.

She picked up a bottle containing what looked like several dried caterpillars. The label read, “Magic Mustaches: Just Add Water.” Nidala shook the bottle, but nothing happened; the puffy bunches of hair just made a scratchy sound as they bounced off one another. She placed it back on the shelf.

“You got anything for sprained wrists?” Nidala asked, holding up her arm.

“I have just the ticket.” Myrna shuffled through a drawer behind the counter, and pulled out two vials. One was purple and the other was green. “Lavender or Wintergreen?”

“Purple,” Nidala said, pointing.

Myrna replaced the green vial, and Nidala flipped a gold coin onto the counter. She picked up the purple vial and uncorked it.

“Do I… drink it?” Nidala asked.

“Absolutely not! What kind of traveling spirit-pedaller do you think I am?” Myrna’s hands conducted the air as Myrna spoke. “It’s a lotion. Just rub it over your wrist, and you’ll feel better in no time.”

Nidala poured the liquid into her palm and began applying the medicine. It tingled, and the smell of flowers almost intoxicated her.

“Thanks,” Nidala said.

“Where are you off to tonight?” Myrna asked. “Planning to start some more trouble in the cemetery?”

“I’m all covered, trouble-wise.” Nidala raised her arms in a guilty gesture. “But, you never know what’s waiting in the marketplace.”

“Well, if anyone gives you a hard time, be sure to send them my way, once you’re finished.”

Nidala laughed. She thought back to a few years prior. She was being chased down an alleyway by a trio of city guards. The followed her around a tight corner and met one of Jaz’s fireballs head-on. The looks on their faces as they fled always made her smile to remember. Nidala frowned as she leaned on the counter, chin resting on her palm. Myrna frowned back, and said, “What’s wrong?”

“I miss having Jaz around. We got into a lot of adventures when we were kids, but… she’s just too busy now.”

“Well, a word of advice, from one youngest child to another.” Myrna leaned on the counter, so her eyes were nearly level with Nidala’s. “They can never out-grow us, because we’re always just one step behind.”

Nidala rubbed her wrist, and realized it wasn’t sore anymore. She flexed her hand, and rotated it. She didn’t feel any pain.

“Thanks,” said Nidala. “I’ll remember that.”

Nidala looked up, and a puzzled look appeared on Myrna’s face.

“Isn’t that your sister now?”

Myrna pointed toward the window, and Nidala spun in time to see a short, hooded figure pass swiftly along the opposite side of the road. Jaz wove between passerby of various races, her face momentarily visible as she looked to cross an intersection.

“She told me she was studying in the library,” Nidala said. But the library was on the opposite side of the city, in the Southwest quarter.

Nidala leaned against the window, her eyes following Jaz down the street. Then, she inhaled. Another figure moved through the crowd. All Nidala could make out was a white robe bearing the emblem of the sun. A priest of Apollo? The hood was up, but Nidala could tell that whoever it was, they had their eyes locked on Jaz.

“What do you see?” Myrna asked from the counter.

“Trouble,” said Nidala. She rushed through the door.

The evening crowd was thin, but Nidala walked slowly. She tried to catch up to the robed figure, who stayed about fifty feet from Jaz at all times. Nidala caught a look at the face of a clean-shaven young man beneath the hood. Up ahead, Jaz took a turn and headed farther North.

Nidala slipped the dagger free, and dropped it into her pocket, where her hand stayed. She didn’t have trouble following the robed man, but she kept looking ahead, and saw Jaz consulting a page from a notebook. Every now and then, Jaz would make an addition with her pencil.

They emerged onto a larger road, and the crowd grew more dense. Jaz walked into the center of a town square. Ramshackle buildings crowded around crooked streets that met at the square like strings coming to a messy knot. In the center was an ancient fountain, atop of which stood the statue of a nude god, mid-transformation into a wolf.

Jaz stepped up to the fountain, and peered around. The robed man ducked behind a group of dryads. Nidala snuck closer. She was still at the edge of the square, but she wanted to get to Jaz without alerting the stalker.

Jaz turned back to her notebook.

Suddenly, the robed man rushed forward. Nidala inhaled, and started pushing her way through the crowd. She pulled the dagger out of her pocket. Her pulse thudded in her ears.

“Jaz, look out!” Nidala cried.

 Jaz looked up, eyes wide, just as the man in the robe grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. Jaz screamed. Her notebook fell to the ground.

The man’s hood fell back, revealing a completely shaved head. He was young; seventeen at the oldest. His eyes locked with Jaz’s just as Nidala broke through the crowd.

Jaz smiled and pulled the boy into a kiss.

Nidala’s heart dropped. She froze.

The notebook at Jaz’s feet fluttered open. The wind whipped a loose sheet of paper into the air. It landed at Nidala’s feet, and a penciled rune started to glow. The paper evaporated into a flurry of sparks that spiraled and danced, eventually forming a heart.

Jaz released the boy and turned to collect the notebook. Her eyes followed the sparks and landed on Nidala’s shocked face.

Jaz spoke, but Nidala didn’t hear a word.