The Farren Queens

Samir

Samir woke to find himself tied to an uncomfortable wooden chair. Before he had time to wonder where he was, the old healer from Fanthe came into the room. He had no idea why she was here, but she held a short, almost dainty blade in her hand, and that wasn't a good sign.

"What are you planning with Miss Niran?" She demanded.

"Which one?" Samir asked.

"I think you know precisely which sister I'm talking about." The old lady said with a surprising amount of anger for someone who looked so old and frail.

"Ah, yes. I believe the last time I met Miss Niran, she asked if I would play hide-and-seek with her. I suppose I owe it to little Ophelia. She's been through so much lately."

"My patience has run thin, boy. Do not test me."

On the contrary, this only made Samir want to annoy her more.

"Your waist has run thin, as well. Have you eaten a bite since we last met?"

She stepped back in shock. "What a nasty thing to say! You should be ashamed."

"May I remind you," he said, rolling his eyes, "You're the one who tied me up and threatened me with a knife."

"You deserved it! After what happened to Massaponai, you're lucky I don't carve my name into your skin."

"Bek invaded both Basam and Massaponai. You were not the only ones who suffered."

"Your country will survive without the jungle, ours will not."

"My country's past is not mine. I have not had the opportunity to-"

The woman pressed the tip of her knife to his neck, drawing a drop of blood. He did not cry, despite the pain. "You shall die for your crimes against the Massaponaian tribes."

"At least I won't have to look at you." Samir said with a smirk.

The old lady lunged at him. The knife would have hit his heart, but Samir fell back, and it stabbed his shin instead. He cried out in anguish. Samir couldn't see the wound, but he knew it was a deep cut. The woman pulled the knife out and was about to attack again, but she stopped just as she brought the blade to her ear.

Amara stood behind her as blood poured from where she had stabbed the old lady. The woman's eyes opened wide.

"I only spoke the truth!" the woman screamed. Her voice faded with every word, and Samir could see the life draining out of her.

"You tried to murder my friend!" she cried.

"Amara, please. Please, sweetheart." Tears ran down the woman's face. Samir didn't know if they were from pain or sadness, but he didn't care.

"I'm not your sweet." she said as she pulled out the dagger.

The last of the woman's life left her eyes. As soon as she was sure the woman was dead, Amara collapsed on the floor. He let her be for a moment. Samir would've gone to comfort her, but his arms and legs were tied to the chair. He wanted to tell her that the first kill was the worst, but his second hadn't been any better, and he knew she would see through his lie.

After a minute, she stood and wiped her face. "Ready to get out of this mud puddle?" she asked, her voice quavering. Samir knew it hurt her more than she let on, but he ignored it.

"I can't." he said, "My leg is hurt, and I'm tied to a chair."

"Right." She took her dagger and cut the ropes at his hands and feet. Samir took a minute to move his hands and ankles around. The binding had been tight, and his fingers prickled as the blood circulated through.

Amara took the old woman's knife and muttered something Samir couldn't hear. She cut a long strip of her dress off and handed it to Samir.

"Here." she said as she handed him the cloth, "Tie it tight around your leg. Try to keep it clean."

He did as she asked without saying a word. He stood and tried to keep the weight off of his bad leg. It wasn't hard, and he was able to limp around the room on his own.

"Why did that Massiponian lady want to kill me?" he asked even though he knew the answer.

"I don't know." Amara shook her head. "She talked to me first, but didn't answer any of my questions."

"I'm guessing she asked you a few as well."

"She knew who I was. She wanted me to 'tell her what I know,' but wouldn't tell me anything else." Amara paused for a moment. "That's not true, she told me her name was Ka'kwet."

"She didn't hurt you?"

"No. Now come on, we need to find a way out of here before someone else finds us."

Amara pushed the wall open, and they walked out of the dim room into a pitch black hallway. Amara took his hand to guide him through the tunnel. The low roof kept dripping drops of water onto his head and shoulders.

Samir had no idea where he was going, and he assumed Amara didn't either; however, they hadn't come to any crossings or forks, so they continued on. The tunnel kept turning and it made Samir feel disoriented.

"Will these tunnels ever end?"

"I doubt it." he replied.

"I remember a folk song about a tunnel." Amara began to hum a tune under her breath. After a few verses, Samir recognized it and began singing along. It was an old song, and he struggled to remember the lyrics, but Amara murmured a few in a low voice.
"...forbidden from one another, built a path..." Samir couldn't hear the rest until the verse.

"Through the mountains, travel through the secret tunnel!" She sang off key, but he didn't mind. It made the pain in his leg disappear, and his mind was able to calm, if only for a little while. Music always had a special place in his heart, and he wished it was in his life more often.

The walk was over before he knew it. In the distance, they could see beams of light creeping through an opening. When they got to the door, it wouldn't open. Amara took her dagger and hit it against the metal. It lit up with sparks, the door wouldn't budge. They couldn't see anything, but after a few minutes Amara got it. The hatch swung outward, revealing the slums of a city he guessed was Amberford.

Samir and Amara would've fit right in, but again the streets were empty. She stepped out, then helped him to the ground. Pain flew through his shin when he put weight on it, but he tried not to flinch.

Below his feet, the ground was covered in mud, as well as things he would rather not name. Cold rain fell, and a biting wind threatened to blow the roofs off of the nearest house. It wasn't that the wind or rain were terrible, but the buildings had seen better days.

Of all the places to end up, we had to choose here.

"I didn't choose, the tunnel was one-way."

We could've gone the other direction. He pointed out.

They walked through the streets, only to find themselves back where they started in front of the entrance to the tunnels. The door was disguised so that it looked like nothing more than a stack of old barrels, waiting to be used. When they looked closer, they were able to see that the second barrel to the right, and third from the top, opened into the passage.

"How long have these tunnels been there?" He asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine." She replied.

Upon further inspection, they found that the buildings were empty as well. An old home had various items thrown across the floor, and the door was left unlocked. Many of the others were in a similar condition, some still had rusty water flowing from the faucet.

Empty carts and wagons littered the street, and the stench of rotten fruit hung in the air. Amara pulled the neck of her dress over her nose, and Samir did the same with his shirt. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it helped.

"I wonder where everyone went."

Maybe they left town. he suggested.

"I doubt that."

Why?

"The people of Amberford don't like to leave. They think that the rest of the world is some terrible place." she answered.

Are they wrong?

"No, but how can you judge the world if you've never seen it?"