Hungry Heart - Book 5 - Ch. 11 (Patreon)

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Chapter Eleven – A Secret Greed

Varg moved silently toward the light. It was growing bigger and bigger, making him think that it had to be something there holding answers. Or, better said, someone. Because of the nature of his strange quest, he needed to be cautious. There was no way of telling whether there was a friend or a foe waiting for him at the end of the tunnel.

Or maybe not waiting for him at all. The sight that opened itself in front of his eyes as he reached a ledge from which he could down into the abyss yawning at his feet was as absurd as it was unimaginable.

He was looking at a market of sorts, with stalls and vendors behind them, only that there was a quality to those in attendance that spoke of their fate as inmates held in that underground prison. Their faces were grim, and their clothes were drab. At a closer look, the stalls held only the sort of merchandise no one would ever be interested in buying. The items were as nonsensical as the rest of the picture in front of his eyes. Vials that were supposed to hold potions of all sorts were either broken or empty. Their glass was smudged and they looked dirty and useless, just as the men and women peddling them. Whatever the things that were supposed to be considered food he wanted to pass on, they were enough to make him gag so he moved his eyes quickly over them.

The vendors appeared to have no idea of being watched by an intruder. They were joylessly advertising their wares to everyone that happened by their stalls, but it didn’t look like they were interested in whether they succeeded to entice their possible customers with their items or not. There were buyers there, too, if such a term could be used to describe them. Their clothes were just as drab, and they moved around as if they were caught in a strange daze. Their eyes were open, but they didn’t appear to see anything. They just moved from one stall to the other, inspecting the wares not by means of looking, but by touching them lightly with their hands before they walked away to visit the next vendor.

Varg searched around for something that could be used as a ladder so he could descend inside the cauldron at his feet. He doubted that any of those half-dead people would be capable of offering him answers, but he had no other option. His instincts told him that they weren’t dangerous, so he could risk walking among them in order to find an exit, if no knowledge to be exchanged was on the table.

There must have been a way for all those unfortunate beings to get down there, which meant that he needed to find it and be patient about it, too. Therefore, he walked along the edge, looking down at every step to see if there were steps not easy to spot at first.

As focused as he was on what was to his side, he missed a small creature materializing at his feet and almost stepped on it. It took him a moment to get his bearings back as the incident almost caused him to lose his balance and fall into the cauldron below. While his wolf could heal fast, he wasn’t quick to disclose his true nature to the people moving in endless circles around the strange market.

He stared at the thing before him curiously, trying to understand what it was. It had four limbs, two eyes, and two ears, but it was so furry that he couldn’t see a mouth or a nose. Its appearance was that of a huge ball of fur, so dark in color that only the whites of its eyes signaled that there was a face to speak of.

“What are you?” he mumbled under his breath without expecting an answer.

The two eyes blinked and then the ball of fur rolled on what had to be its back. “What are you?” the creature mimicked his words.

Varg took a step back. “I asked first.”

Another blink followed. “Are you a seller or a buyer? I need to put you in the right category.”

“No, thank you,” Varg replied frankly to avoid any misunderstanding. “I’m not interested in either buying or selling. What is this place, and who are you?” As the creature talked, it meant that it had intelligence so there was no point in considering it an animal and even less an object.

“This is the Market of the Damned,” the ball of fur replied. “And I am Vetor, its curator. Newcomer, I require your name.”

“What is it that’s happening here?” Varg asked, ignoring the direct question. He stared at the market that he now knew what it was called, letting his eyes wander over the group of miserable people for a while.

“I would say that it is fairly obvious,” Vetor replied. “Because of their ignorance, they are all condemned to spend their lives in obedience.”

“You will have to explain that to me,” Varg said.

“You must choose which group you belong to,” Vetor insisted.

“I have no intention to join their ranks.” Varg looked down at the ball of fur, still intrigued that such a strange creature would be placed in charge of a place called the Market of the Damned.

“But you must. You are here.”

“Are you going to make me?” Varg asked calmly. Although he felt no danger coming from Vetor, with situations like this, he needed to be even more careful.

“I could, and I should, but I always leave those that come here the illusion of freedom.”

“If it’s an illusion, it’s even crueler that you dangle hope in front of their eyes, don’t you think?”

Vetor appeared to ponder over the dilemma presented to him. “They are scared when they arrive. They don’t understand their punishment, and that happens only because the rules are never properly explained to them. I tried to take it up with the passers of judgment, but they don’t appear to have the time.”

Varg examined his surroundings while taking in Vetor’s words. “As you can easily see, I’m not scared. You do not have to lie to me.”

“Yes, that is quite strange. But even if you are not afraid, you must know that there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“That makes no sense,” Varg said.

“True,” Vetor admitted after a moment of reflection. “I must do my job. I would like to hear what you want the most. I will know if you lie. And then, I will send you down. It doesn’t hurt, and after, you will feel nothing. Your wish will be granted, over and over.”

“And what were their wishes?” Varg pointed at the crowd below.

“It depends on the person. Many want riches beyond their strangest dreams.”

“Strangest?”

“Yes.” Vetor appeared puzzled. “People should know that wanting things leads nowhere. Just wishing for possession doesn’t offer happiness. And when possession occurs, they understand that their wishes were in vain. They are never happy or satisfied. But there,” he gestured at the sorry-looking market, “they have their wishes granted.”

“I have no wishes of possession,” Varg said.

“Then why are you here?”

“I went against the Rules for Harmony.”

“Ah, I see, you are one of those,” Vetor said, murmuring to himself mostly. His bewilderment over Varg’s case seemed to have a troubling effect on him. “But there is a secret greed in you, too. There has to be.”

“And if there isn’t? What happens then?”

“It never happens that way,” Vetor said, full of himself. “It is a thing that has never happened before.”

Varg crouched so that he could take a proper look at the furry thing pretending to be the guardian of this place. “Show me how to get out of here. I need to be with my friends.”

“There is no way out of here.”

Varg looked over the edge. “And if I kick you from up here, what do you think will happen to you?”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Vetor exclaimed in astonishment. “What a revolting thing to say!”

“More revolting than you trying to send me to join those people below when I am guiltless?”

Vetor blinked a few times fast. “Guiltless? There is no such thing. The guards of Coinvale are never wrong. They send only the guilty ones here.”

“That is not justice. It’s tyranny.” Varg observed Vetor with keen eyes. The curator didn’t appear to be unreasonable, so there was a chance for him to convince him not to send him to join the victims of the faulty justice system of Coinvale.

“They are just,” Vetor said. “You must choose. The law of men decided that you are to receive your punishment.”

“The law of men doesn’t concern me,” Varg said and pushed himself up to his full height.

Vetor rolled backward as Varg turned into his wolf.

“Shifter!” Vetor squealed.

“Yes, I am a shifter. Now show me the way out of here.”

***

Toru appeared to be inconsolable regarding the body he was forced to inhabit for a while. Duril tried to entice him with a piece of jerky, but the smoked meat appeared to do little to lift the mood of the young tigershifter who was now caught up in wallowing over his condition as a puny human.

“Toru,” he said in a gentle voice, “I believe that the messengers are right. As long as you are in this body, you can move around the city unnoticed. You will find all the fragments of the shard – with both Claw’s and my help – and then you will get your body back.”

“I wish there wasn’t such a lack of pity in these messengers,” Toru moaned, and since he was trapped in the body of a young lad, he managed to appear truly pitiful in Duril’s eyes. While he always caressed and comforted his handsome lover, when he was like this, Duril wished he could do even more to alleviate the source of his displeasure.

“Let’s get to work,” Claw said. “If these people had chosen to smash the shard into myriad pieces, you have a lot of things to do, many places to visit, not to mention, go in and out unnoticed.”

“If I had my tiger, I’d go in and out noticed, but there would be no one to stop me,” Toru said with another sorrowful moan.

“That’s true, but we also need to take into account that the guards have Varg. They must have put him in their prison, wherever that place is, and that means that we cannot risk causing a ruckus in the city. Who knows how they might end up treating him as a result of our actions?”

Claw’s wise words appeared to reach Toru, much to Duril’s relief.

“Varg is strong,” Toru said. “But I would never put him in danger. Those guards better tell us where they took Varg, or I will have no mercy on them.”

“That is one problem we must take into account, but Claw is right. We must get back to the city, so that you can put your new skill granted by Te’cla to the test.”

“What if it doesn’t work?” Toru murmured. “And what if I cause another disaster?”

“How so?” Duril asked.

Toru shifted in his place. “You see, when I saw the fragment of the shard that was holding the island in the sky, I just reached for it. And then the island began falling and I ended up in this puny body. I did this to myself, didn’t I?”

“Let’s not judge ourselves by the measure of actions imposed on us by evil sayers and evil doers,” Claw suggested. “Trust me when I say, kitty, that I dislike these messengers and Te’cla just as much as you. But we must work with what we are given.” He smacked a heavy hand on Toru’s shoulder.

Toru winced in pain and massaged his shoulder. “You see?” he complained. “I would have never felt something like that before. And now, it hurts.”

Claw laughed wholeheartedly. “Maybe it will turn you humble, kitty. Who knows?”

“I have no use for being humble,” Toru mumbled to himself. “Let’s get back to the city. I will remove all the shard fragments and show these people that they should be the humble ones.”

***

His steps were so short that he needed to walk really fast to keep up with Claw and Duril. As much as his friends were trying to assuage his frustration, he found his displeasure with this body growing more and more. No, it wasn’t his body, it was only borrowed, by a whim of fate that made him grind his teeth. Nonetheless, if the messengers were so sure that his true power was inside him, he’d make the best of it.

As they walked on the quiet streets of Coinvale, in the wee hours of the morning, he began looking around. It made sense to have businesses in particular take advantage of the fragments of the shard, but it wasn’t impossible for certain wealthy citizens to use those in their homes for the most mundane reasons. There was power inside the shards, but Toru knew very well that it was a power born of darkness and evil, and such things were better left untouched by mere mortals.

It occurred to him that it was much likely that the inhabitants of Coinvale considered themselves more than that. A few things pointed in that direction. The gates he had battled had magic in them. The messengers that acted as boat pilots for anyone who wanted to cross the Aureate Sea also belonged to a world that shouldn’t have been easy to access by people who led as normal lives as many others in the many different cities on the face of Eawirith.

Throughout their adventures, Toru had learned a thing or two. The places they had seen were not so different from Coinvale. Even if magic wasn’t apparent, it worked in obscure ways. All in all, he had encountered such places before and he had confronted forces that lurked under the surface.

The only difference was that, in all those instances, he had been himself, a tigershifter, someone with power and skills that helped him survive and many victories. And now, all he had was the body of a young lad, lanky and useless. If he had to fight, how would he be able to do it, given his meek appearance?

He was looking over a large two-storied house as his mind followed the entangled path of his thoughts. His hand jerked at the same time his eyes noticed something strange. Inside that house, in an area that very much appeared to be a kitchen, a fragment of the shard shone in all its dark glory.

“There,” he whispered, although there was no one else on the streets of Coinvale at that hour, and he didn’t have to be so secretive. “I see that there’s one of them,” he told his friends.

They stopped in front of the house and stared at the grandiose entrance. It appeared to belong to a family with a lot of pull in the city, by the decorations encased in gold covering its frontispiece. He was about to lift his fist to knock when Claw caught his wrist.

“Easy,” Claw warned. “I doubt that these people will simply agree to hand over their shard fragment. It’s good that you noticed its presence, but now we need to come up with a plan.”

“Maybe we could sneak in?” he suggested.

“And risk getting caught on our first attempt? I don’t believe that is a good course of action,” Claw said. “We don’t have to sneak in, all three of us. Only you need to reach it. Can you see it clearly?”

“Yes, it appears to be sitting at the bottom of a thing like an oven.”

“So, you can see through walls now?” Duril asked, his voice full of admiration.

As much as Toru would have loved to take credit for that, he disliked that it had been Te’cla to give him that special power. “Only in the area where the shard fragment is,” he explained. “The rest is the same as you see it.”

“Here is what I say,” Claw interjected. “It is important that Toru is able to get all the fragments so that none of them remain, but we must do so without drawing attention to ourselves. Or,” he said after a moment, “Duril and I could very well make these people pay attention to us, while Toru slips in and out of these places unnoticed.”

“But how do we do that?” Duril asked.

Claw smiled. “I think I have just the idea. Let’s see if there are other houses on this street and those adjacent to it that have shard fragments in them. Since we happen to be in one of the wealthier parts of the city from what I can tell, I’d wager that this oven that runs on the power of the shard is not the only thing that does so around here. Gather close, my friends, and listen to my plan.”

***

“I feel really strange about this, but I understand why you’d think it is a great plan,” Duril commented as he pulled halfheartedly at the rope wrapped around Claw’s neck.

“As a bear trainer, it is all right to talk to your beast, but make sure that the people around don’t read your lips,” Claw whispered at him under his breath.

It looked like Claw’s idea had merits because the people around these parts weren’t accustomed to this sort of display on their streets. Claw had turned into his bear and was now performing all sorts of antics that drew an immediate crowd around them. It was up to Duril to advertise loudly that a new sort of entertainment would be available only for a short while, and with Claw’s encouragements, his voice got louder. The people rushed out of their houses to witness the quirky display of a huge beast being commanded by an owner so much smaller in frame and strength. They were staring at Claw’s performance, slack-jawed and mesmerized, while they left their doors open behind them.

That was all they needed. Toru, taking advantage of his small and nimble frame, had to sneak inside each building where he had discovered the shard fragments and see if they were right about their plan. It all relied on Toru still being able to pull the fragments to him while in Mako’s body, and Duril prayed that was the case. As much as the messengers talked as if their role in helping Toru achieve his goal was a noble one, he couldn’t get over the fact that they had used a sort of treachery by not revealing their nature until the moment they deemed right.

Just as Claw was supposed to dance to the rhythm of his false commands, so they all had to obey the rules established by the messengers and pray that only good would come out of it. Duril followed Toru briefly with his eyes as the young tigershifter moved quickly and entered the house with the oven powered by the shard fragment.

***

Toru stepped inside, making sure to tread as carefully as he could. One good thing about Mako’s body is that it had the agility of a young man, which made it ideal for what he had to do now. He had ruined Misar Sogou’s printer when he had removed the shard, but while he risked causing these people so much disappointment because they would have to use their tools and devices without the dark power of the shard, the alternative was worse.

All he needed to do now was to make sure that he wouldn’t get caught. He found himself inside a long hallway, and it was good that Te’cla’s gift ensured that he could find the fragments easily. He knew exactly where the thing was. The only thing left to test was to see if the shard fragment would obey him or its siblings’ calling.

He flexed his palm and stared at the sharp fragment buried in his skin. A slight dizziness caught him and he moved his eyes away. He needed to finish his quest and staring at the shard fragment wasn’t a good idea. It was strange. When in his normal body, this had never happened. He had control over the shard, as broken into as many pieces as it had been.

With quick steps, he entered the kitchen and saw the oven in a corner. He crouched by it and placed his hand as close to it as he could. A pain gripped his arm and he had to grab it with his other hand to steady it. The oven broke in the middle, just like had happened with the fragment’s hiding place on the island in the clouds. As he forced his hand over the other fragment, fresh hurt pierced his arm, it jerked and it was with difficulty that he held it still until he felt the pain fade away.

He looked at his palm and closed it fast. One down. Many more to go.

TBC

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