28. Colt

Colt

Colt looked out the window every few minutes, anticipating Harlan's return. Every time he looked and saw no one come up the path, he cursed and continued pacing the floor.

"Doing that's not going to make him return any faster," Brom said as he stirred a pot of stew over the fire in the hearth.

"Just let me do what I want," Colt sighed.

Brom shrugged and went back to stirring. They had been lucky to find a home abandoned by farmers who'd left the region four days ago. They'd been holed up in the tiny house with one bedroom ever since, watching people leave the area in multitudes from the surrounding inns and farms. Others closed up their shops and took their leave, and not long after, thieves broke in and took what they wanted. The guard posts were full of people who had been injured, and most of the inns were still packed with people who had nowhere else to go.

Anyone left exposed outside of Luthien was nothing more than fodder for the shadow beasts that lurked around. A large contingent of soldiers had been trapped outside the city during the siege. They had constructed makeshift barricades to deal with monsters in the night. In the daytime, the shadow graugs were quiet, stalking from afar, watching as if they were trying to figure out how to get into buildings later on. These beings were aggressive, but they were fairly easy to kill. Colt and Brom fought them off almost nightly, spending their days reinforcing the windows and doors from the attacks of the night before.

After a few more minutes, Colt grabbed a bowl from the counter and dipped it into the pot of stew.

"Use the ladle," Brom grumbled.

"This is just as good." Colt shook his head and slurped his food from the side of the bowl.

When a knock sounded on the door, Colt nearly spilled his bowl as he rushed forward. Brom cursed behind him, already bending down with his rag. When Colt flung open the door, Harlan stood before him, his blond hair damp. Colt had never been so happy to see a soldier.

After letting the man in, Colt closed the door and anticipated the news he'd been waiting for all day. When Harlan caught his waiting eyes, he said, "It's not good."

"What's going on?" Colt asked.

"We received a dove this morning from Elian. Owen is confirmed to be in the citadel." Harlan looked from Colt to Brom. "We still don't know the details, but Elian believes Owen is crucial to Mordren's plans. We're waiting on more information before the Legion thinks about infiltrating."

"Infiltrating?" Brom's brow rose. "The citadel?"

"Yes. The guards at all the posts have done well setting up barricades to ward off the beasts out here. Now, they're turning their attention to taking Luthien back. We're planning a revolt to take down Luthien's weakest gate, then we'll regroup with the rest of the soldiers inside the city and march towards the citadel. Elian is working now to build up factions of citizens to join the fight."

"Wouldn't Mordren suspect that?" Brom asked .

"Not if Elian works in the shadows. But… there is one problem." Harlan scratched his neck and looked away.

"What?" Brom asked.

"They're planning to kill Owen, too, once they've reached the citadel."

Colt's whole body tensed. He raised an eyebrow, his jaw clenching. "They?"

"The Legion. He is Shadowborn, and he opened the Gate. We've been given the command."

Colt's blood boiled. He curled his fists as the urge to punch something came over him. Perhaps he could punch Harlan. The man had traces of Elian's features, after all. But no… Elian had kept his word. He took a deep breath. "This… is exactly why your brother told us he wouldn't tell the Legion he was at the fort."

"And my brother kept his word. But the Legion does what is commanded by the officials."

"Legion trash to the bitter end…" Colt moved away and began packing a bag of clothes.

"What are you doing?" Brom asked.

"I'm leaving," Colt replied. "I'm getting into the city."

"How?"

"I'll figure it out when I get there," Colt snapped. "But I'm not waiting around for the Legion to storm in and kill Owen. I have to get him out."

Harlan put a hand up. "Owen is sequestered in the citadel tower, watched by Mordren and his army. Even if you get past the Legion…"

"I get it," Colt said, a bit too harshly. He hung his head and closed his eyes, the ache in his chest almost too much to bear, with a sting that wrenched his heart and a turmoil that took hold of his mind. He was so close to Owen, and yet so damn far. He could see that fucking gold-domed top of the citadel every time he walked outside.

"I have to try. I can't sit out here, useless!" he said through clenched teeth. "If the Legion is planning to kill Owen, I need to get there first."

Brom took a deep breath, then said, "Alright, fine, but how in the world do you expect us to get in?"

They went quiet for a long moment, then Harlan put his finger up.

"There may be an access point… the walls around Luthien are high, but there is a narrow portion of the wall that is lower than the rest. If you can take out the beasts outside the wall, you may have a chance to scale it before being noticed. It's about forty feet high."

"And why wouldn't your comrades just do the same thing to get into the city?"

"A unit of soldiers would be spotted much more easily than two men. Although, it may become part of our strategy."

Colt crossed his arms. "And you think we have a chance of doing it?"

"You could easily disguise yourselves as Arroki. There are a few that walk the outside perimeter of the city walls. If you were to lure two in and take their armor, you'd be indistinguishable from the usual guards. I have some weapons and supplies I can give you both. If you get in, you could possibly help Elian aid the citizens on the inside."

It was the only option they had. Colt looked at Brom, and they nodded in affirmation at each other.

Colt was going to get Owen back.

Later in the day, Colt met with Harlan at a secluded spot to gather a few tools and other essentials from him to get into the city. Colt thanked him and made his way swiftly back to the farmhouse. When he burst into the room, Brom looked up from the food he was preparing before they left later that night.

Brom narrowed his eyes on the burlap sack Colt carried. "What's that?"

"Stuff to help us blend in." Before Brom could ask more, Colt rushed to the bedroom to change and emptied the sack on his bed. There were two sets of a shirt and trousers, both black as night. Two dark blue robes were next, the colors so deep they looked almost black depending on where one looked at it in the light. There were also black sashes to tie around the waist and black masks to fit over their mouths.

He shed his clothes and pulled on the shirt and trousers, then he tied his boots and pulled the robe over him, the tails at the end falling around his calves. Despite being bulky, the robe was comfortable and warm. He tied the mask on, then drew the hood of his robe up over his head. A belt that held a sizable knife wound around his waist next, and over that, the black sash hid it completely.

As he glanced at himself in the wall mirror, he recognized the disguise as those usually worn by mercenaries—men who carried out killings for payment. Colt was no mercenary, but he could dress like one to blend in with the night.

All he needed now was his bow and quiver.

When the door opened, Colt jumped and turned around to see Brom standing in the doorway, frozen, with his hand still on the knob and a look of bewilderment on his face. They stared at each other for a long moment, and the heat of the room suddenly flushed up Colt's body.

"Wow. What… happened to you?" Brom asked, looking impressed as he came into the room. "Alright, where's mine?"

Colt relaxed and picked up Brom's robes and pushed them into his arms.

"Gods, I've always dreamed of wearing something like this when I was a boy," Brom said, his face lighting up.

"Put them on." Colt pulled down his mask. "I'll get the other things ready."

Brom's brow wrinkled. " Other things?"

The night deepened as Colt and Brom waited in the branches of a large oak tree, their eyes on the eastern wall of Luthien. In the darkness, they would make their way down the hill, blending with the night, and hopefully come straight to the wall.

Colt's leg injury from the fort had mostly healed, but it was still somewhat sore. Still, he gave himself no choice but to get into the city. He had to.

He glanced over at Brom and whispered, "Ready?"

When Brom nodded, they climbed down from the tree and grabbed their light bags, though Colt's was far from light with the books he'd packed. The night was cold as they made their way down the hill to the city. Snow drifted down lightly, covering the ground in a fine layer of white. Colt carried his bow in his hand, and his quiver was stocked with plenty of arrows, thanks to Harlan. Using swords would be too risky, and instead they'd only brought knives, opting to use their stealth instead.

They drew quickly towards the city wall until they'd closed much of the distance. Their footsteps crunched softly in the snow. Then, they heard growls and looked ahead to see the shadow graugs.

"They've spotted us," Brom told him, brandishing his knife.

As Colt shot an arrow at one, Brom slashed at the other. They killed one after another until they had a break in the attack. Panting, Colt bent down and swiped his hands through the blood oozing out of the nearest carcass, then he rubbed the blood over his face and in his hair. When he tried to do the same to Brom, Brom leaned back.

"What are you doing?" he whispered.

"Making you smell like monster shit," Colt whispered back. "It kept them away from me when I was in the Vale. It'll work."

"Oh… kay." Brom let Colt smear the blood on his face and hair, then Brom went the extra measure and also rubbed it on his leather shoulder armor.

Once they were done, they moved on. Orange lights bounced on top of the wall, and when Colt saw one stop moving, he sank to his knees in the grass and hoped his robe blended with the night. His heart lurched in his throat as he realized someone had spotted the dead beasts, and he swiftly pulled an arrow from his quiver and strung it against his bow. He shot at the lone Arroki on the wall, piercing it in the side where its armor was exposed. The soldier dropped immediately.

Colt and Brom ran ahead. They hugged the wall, looking up and hoping no one else had seen them. Then Colt took out the grappling hook Harlan had given them and gave it to Brom. They stood back enough so that Brom could swing the rope around a few times, then he sent it flying up the wall. The hook caught easily on the low battlements, and after tugging the rope a few times, Colt brought out a small mechanical device that Harlan had called a lift. It was a small circular piece of metal that attached to the rope and slid only upwards, but locked when it was pulled down. Brom made quick work of the ascent and threw the lift down to Colt, who climbed up next.

It didn't take him long, and when he came to the top, Brom lent a hand to hoist Colt up. They crouched low on the wall, seeing only the dead Arroki Colt had killed with his arrow. Brom gathered the rope and grappling hook and placed them in his satchel.

Any Arroki on the wall seemed distracted by the dead graugs. While two of them stood looking out past the wall, Colt and Brom snuck up behind them and slit their throats. As the Arroki sank to their knees, they quickly worked the armor off the corpses so they could wear them instead. Colt drew on a leather breastplate while Brom picked up the helms.

When Colt placed it on his head, he made a face. "Gods, it smells awful in here," he whispered.

Brom put a finger to his lips and pointed at the bodies. They had to hide them, or at least make it look as though it was an accident. Colt glanced around and pointed to one of the many murder holes built into the battlements. Then they pushed the bodies down one of them. Without their armor, they hit the ground almost soundlessly. Almost .

Colt and Brom found a ladder that descended to the ground level. As they walked quickly from the wall, a couple of beasts loitering in the street looked at them. One of them growled, then sniffed the air before going back to rummaging through food bins. When they passed one of the Arroki soldiers, they weren't even noticed, and instead were taken as one of their own.

Leading Brom through Luthien wasn't hard. Colt knew the city like the back of his hand, and within ten minutes, they'd made it to the streets he'd grown up on. He'd spent nearly his whole life in the Bronze District slums, and then later lived on its streets, filtering in and out of taverns and alleys, staying at friends' homes. At least until their parents ran him out.

The streets were like a ghost town now. Even the alleyways were vacant, which had always been active with illegal trades when he'd lived here. Still, they needed a place to hide until they could form a plan, and Colt knew a place. He hadn't been there in over twenty years, but if one of the women he knew was still working there, it wouldn't hurt to pay her a visit.

Colt glanced back at Brom, then continued on. He held tight to the coin purse beneath his cloak on instinct, until he realized he wasn't likely to get robbed by the Arroki. In the brightening sky, he made out a few trees in the slums. Snow collected on their branches and on the rooftops, forming icicles and piles of white between alleyways.

When they came to a weathered brick building with a sign that read The Windblown Rose, Colt waved Brom around to the back. Weeds grew up around the side of the building, making it look neglected. When Colt ran his hand over an iron rail that led to a faded green door chipping its paint, a memory washed over him.

He'd been a boy, only five, but he'd run out of the green door with one of the ladies and sat with her on the bench in the garden out back. He'd played with marbles while the woman smoked from a long pipe. When he accidentally got her dress dirty, she only smiled at him and told him she needed to wash it anyway .

Colt glanced back to find the garden overgrown now and the bench broken.

"Are we going to knock, or break in?" Brom asked.

"Knock," Colt said, looking at him funny.

He walked up a few steps and raised his fist. Then he held his breath, wondering if he should just forget this idea and leave. But no, this had been where his mother had started, and where he had lived for the first six years of his life. This had been his home at one point.

Finally, he took off his dirty helm and knocked in a rhythm that had been part of a lullaby, a knock reserved only for him. If any of the ladies he'd known were still working here, they might recognize it. But when nobody came to the door, Colt sighed and walked back down the steps. Brom seemed to understand his solemn mood and said nothing. As they began to leave, the door suddenly opened.

"Colt O'Malley!" came a voice.

Colt stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes going wide as he turned and rushed back to the door. Standing in the doorway was a woman with blonde hair and blue eyes, her pretty face looking baffled.

"Helena," Colt said, sighing in relief. He climbed the stairs to meet her, and the woman suddenly laughed and clutched his hand.

Helena had been his mother's best friend, and she had made the decision to put Colt into the orphanage. It had confused him at the time, as Helena had always been fond of him. So when she took him that day and kissed his cheek and left, he wondered if he had done something wrong .

"My goodness," Helena said, looking him up and down. "I haven't seen you in ages. But I would know that devilish face anywhere. What are you doing here?"

Colt looked down. "It's a long story." He looked back and waved Brom over. "Me and my friend… we're in a bit of trouble."

"Who isn't these days, love?" Helena looked around before she ushered them inside. "It's cold out here. We can talk by the fire." She led them both to a sitting room, where a fire blazed. They set their bags down as they came inside and removed the Arroki armor. A fluffy white cat slept on the rug, but when they sat in the chairs next to the hearth, the cat got up and stretched before it moved towards Brom.

"I just made tea. I'll bring you some." Helena smiled warmly, then left the room.

Brom looked around. "Well, charming place."

Colt shifted in his seat and looked at the worn furniture and flowery wallpaper that hadn't changed in over twenty years.

"So, you used to come here, or what?" Brom asked.

"I lived here until I was six."

"Your mother was…" Brom trailed off politely.

"Yes."

Brom picked the cat up, and she mewed lovingly at him and nuzzled her head against him.

"Sweet cat. Very fluffy." Brom took her tail and whirled it around with his finger, and the cat snapped at him.

Colt smirked. "Why are you playing with it like that?"

"It's just so soft."

When Helena walked back into the room with three cups on a tray, Colt and Brom straightened in their chairs. She set the tray on an expensive-looking end table, then gave them their cups .

"You met Callie. She's very affectionate. All the girls adore her." Helena took a cup for herself and sat on a cushioned settee next to the hearth.

Brom smiled. "It's a cute name. I mean, she's a cute cat. Very, um, fluffy."

Colt choked on his tea, then coughed and looked away. Brom was a natural at speaking like an idiot around women, but Helena chuckled at his response.

"So, Colt, what brings you back here?" she asked.

"I haven't been in Luthien in over eight years," Colt started. "We just snuck in tonight. We have no place to go. I thought you might let us stay here for a bit. Just long enough for me to figure some things out."

Helena smiled. "I would never turn away Agatha's son. You're always welcome here. I have to say, though, if I were you, I would have stayed on the outside after what's happened. No one can go out at night. Those beasts lurk in the streets."

"It's no better outside the city walls," Brom piped up, still petting the cat in his lap.

"Can you tell us what happened?" Colt asked.

"Well…" Helena took a breath and said, "The city was preparing for an attack. Then the horns sounded. People in the middle and high districts were evacuated as far up as the citadel. Those of us down here were told to stay in our homes. Luthien wasn't prepared for the monsters that swept the place. A lot of people died… and then we got the news that the citadel had been taken, and those on the council had been killed."

Colt's eyes widened. He glanced at Brom, who looked at him in shock. "The men on the council… who oversee everything in Avathon… are dead ? "

When Helena nodded solemnly, Colt leaned forward and looked at the floor. Harlan had not told them that. And why? Was there a reason he'd kept this secret? Or did he not know either? The Legion was good at keeping secrets, that much he knew.

"What else do you know?" Colt asked.

"A man of great Astran power stormed the place with monsters from the Unseen Vale to take over the city. They call him Rem."

Brom and Colt shared a knowing look.

"Is it not the truth?" Helena asked, worry furrowing her brow.

"No," Brom said. "The man who stormed this place wasn't Astran. He was once Legion, a Core Wielder."

Helena looked at them in surprise, and Colt wasn't sure if he should share everything they knew, but the people of Luthien needed to know the truth. If they didn't, they couldn't possibly fight back.

"That's not all." Colt took in a deep breath, preparing to tell her the next part. "Remember the legend of the dormant one, Mordren, the one the Legion always warned everyone about?"

Helena's eyes narrowed. "Yes…"

"The legend is true. Mordren has been released from the Unseen Vale, and now he's seized Luthien. The man who stormed the city is his servant."

A ragged breath released from Helena's throat, and her eyebrows raised in utter disbelief.

Brom cleared his throat and said, "As insane as he put it, it's true. Just look outside. The beasts and Arroki soldiers that look disfigured and inhuman should be enough to convince you that something sinister is happening. "

Helena looked away, and for a long moment, she was quiet. Colt and Brom exchanged silent glances, as if knowing what they spoke of might sound too outlandish to her. But then, finally, Helena looked up at them.

"When I was a girl, I remember a phrase spoken: ‘The days of darkness are impending, but there is hope, for there is one who will cut through the darkness. We must fall to rise.' Out of all the things I was taught growing up in a religious school, that stuck with me the most, and I never knew why."

Colt stared at the deep burgundy rug beneath the tea table. He didn't want to think about these things. He wanted his childhood to stay in the past. He had tried to forget the religious things he'd been taught, same as Helena, when he was living in Milarc. Now they were all rushing back, along with the bad memories of his time on the streets, and he didn't know how to stop them. Even the minty smell of this room stirred memories of him playing by the fire and seeing women wander in and out to drink tea or rest. When he was young, he thought he just lived with his mother and her sisters , and that they worked so hard, they needed rest. Now, he knew these women had needed a break from serving the men of Luthien.

It was why he'd never visited a brothel growing up. By the time he was old enough to realize what they were really for, he could never bring himself to pay for their services.

"Colt." Helena's voice brought him back to the present, and he met her blue eyes. She had to be at least forty by now, crow's feet just beginning to etch into the corners of her eyes. "Thank you for telling me about what's happening. I will spread the word through Bronze and use the brothel as a safehouse if needed. I will do everything in my power to fight against this darkness, too. "

Colt felt relieved hearing her words. He looked at Brom, wondering if he should tell her about Owen. Perhaps tomorrow. He was already exhausted from climbing the wall to get into the city, and he needed to settle in a room and talk over his plan with Brom.

"Thanks, for allowing us to stay here," he replied, nodding at her.

"Of course, love." She rose to her feet. "You can use one of our vacant rooms. And also… please do use the washroom." She smiled, and Colt remembered that he and Brom had blood smeared on their faces. They had to look like madmen, and smell even worse, but Helena hadn't treated them any differently for looking as they did.

Brom put the cat on the floor, then stood with Colt, and they followed Helena out of the room. They passed through the kitchen, where a young woman in a blue frilly apron stood at the stove cooking eggs, staring at them in surprise.

"Good morning," Brom said, smiling at her, and the young woman blinked.

No one ever used the back stairs that led to the second level of the house except for those who lived here. Helena had always lived upstairs, with at least a few other women who had dedicated their lives to The Windblown Rose.

The stairs creaked beneath Colt's boots. The stairwell seemed much narrower now than when he was a boy. When they came to the top, another cat greeted them, this one spotted black, brown, and white. The animal mewed at them, then rubbed against Brom's legs.

"Here," Helena said, opening the door to a small room at the end of the hall. "We're closed for business right now, what with everything that's happening. I have a spare room. I only have four girls working and living here at the moment."

"We can pay you rent," Brom said.

Helena shook her head. "Don't think of it. Instead, pay me with information." She turned to Colt, "and protection, if it comes to that. I know there's much more to this story." Her eyes drifted to Brom. "Come downstairs in about an hour and we'll have breakfast ready for you both." She made her way to the stairs, then stopped and turned once more, looking at Colt intently. "It's good to see you, Colt." Then she left.

As they came into the tiny room, Colt realized this had been the room he'd shared with his mother. The bed was still up against the far wall. A vanity was in the middle, and a dresser sat below a small window on the left-hand wall. There was a basket of blankets and knitting needles on the floor near the door, and a small table and two chairs. A worn, dark blue rug was splayed out in the middle of the room.

It still smelled like musky peppermint. Colt inhaled, then made a sour face. He didn't like the smell.

"It's a tight fit for us both, but we'll make do," Brom said, dropping his bag next to the dresser.

Colt glanced at the bed. He recalled sleeping with his mother, and it had been comfortable cuddling next to her, but he couldn't imagine that scenario with Brom.

"You always take the floor," Colt told him. "You can have the bed."

Brom's brow rose. "Oh, really? Feeling grateful?" He grunted as he pulled off his leather bracers.

Colt took out Owen's books from his bag and set them on the dresser. Looking at them made him feel good. He wondered if he should go over Jensen's journal for any clues. Perhaps later, when they settled in. For now, curiosity had him rummaging through all the drawers in the dresser, but he found only women's clothing. When he found a small box in the bottommost drawer, he stood and set it on the dresser. Inside was a small bag of marbles and ten playing cards, along with several buttons and a few coins.

"What's that?" Brom asked.

"My old box," Colt replied. "I can't believe Helena didn't get rid of this."

Brom raised his chin as he looked at it. "Maybe she forgot about them."

Colt shook his head and set the lid back on. Seeing his old things brought back the pain of his mother. Ever since she'd gone away, he'd missed her, but when he left the orphanage with Rowan and lived on the streets, he'd tried to push her away. He knew now that he had acted spitefully, angry that she had left him, assuming that she must not have cared for him.

Twenty-one years without her had given him time to think, though. Mothers who cuddle their children so close at night, who house and feed them and take them to the gardens during the day, don't just abandon them. Had she thought Colt was better off in the orphanage than wherever she was going? Perhaps she'd gotten in with some bad people. He'd pondered all the scenarios, but he'd never truly know.

He suddenly felt the weight of the emberstone against his chest, and his thoughts came back to the present. The crystal lay cold and dormant on his skin, yet seemed to burn him all the way to his heart. He smoothed over the charm with his fingers and closed his eyes. Holding it felt as though he were holding Owen himself, and thinking of Owen replaced his past sorrows with those of the present.

"I suppose now we need to find Elian," Brom said .

Colt looked out the tiny window at the back street, where an Arroki soldier loitered. "We're one step ahead of the Legion in here. We could steal Owen from under their noses before they even breached the gate."

"Alright…" Brom was quiet for a moment before he said, "How?"

Colt hung his head. For the past week since they had made it to Luthien, they had lived on the outside of the city, left for dead. Every waking moment had been wrought with worry, and Colt was ready to move.

"Colt," Brom sighed. "Don't do anything rash. Harlan's given us word that Mordren is planning something big, and he helped us get in here. We need to talk to Elian first."

Harlan was a good man. The soldier knew how much Colt loved Owen, which is why he passed information to Colt any time he heard from Elian. The Legion was planning their ambush to kill Mordren and Owen. Colt just didn't know when, which was the crucial piece of information he needed. Their next step now was to wait for Elian, so they would.

Finally, Colt nodded and said, "Alright."