Silver Skeletons: Book 3 The Rose Tree Chronicles

Chapter Seven: The Annual Slave Arena

"Slaves may not look into the eyes of Royalty or Nobility, however their eyes must be visible. If this law is at all violated, the Slave will undergo severe physical punishment and then it will either be executed or assigned in to the following Annual Slave Arena. The owner may or may not be informed and will not be reimbursed for the Slave's value."

The next morning, Nadia was sent back to work. She moved like a shadow through the halls, eyes downcast, hands steady but slow. Not a word left her lips as she swept ash from the hearths or bent to scrub the floorboards. When others passed, she turned her face away. Whispers followed her, clipped and bitter. Nearly half the estate had once had a hand in some part of the construction, and now, because of her, their work lay in splinters. Some glared as they hauled stone back to the foundation, sweat already darkening their tunics. Her punishment, they muttered, hadn't fit the offense. Not when they had to start from scratch. Even in silence, the resentment was heavy. But that morning, as Nadia knelt in the foyer with a bucket and brush, the anger boiled over. A young woman paused beside a pillar, arms folded tight across her chest.

"You do realize that Master was easy on you with that lashing, right?" Nadia pretended not to hear her fellow slave. "And that being the master's favorite makes you the enemy of everyone else at Aimonbay? Better not get too close to Garnet and Mauro 'cause they're gonna drop you like a basket of rotten apples when they finally gain some sense."

The slave tossed a dirty rag into Nadia's bucket, splashing gray suds onto her skirt, then turned and stormed off. Nadia sneered at her as she vanished behind a corner, then pushed herself to her feet to fetch a new bucket. Her fingers curled into fists as she walked. How could they not see the truth? They were the ones raising a prison, brick by brick, for creatures who'd done them no harm. Who was really guilty here? She, who acted out against injustice? Or they, who helped forge the bars?

Despite the little games, the sidelong comments, the spilled water she had to mop up twice, Nadia managed to complete her tasks by the early evening. She decided the best way to spend the rest of her day was to find her golden ball like Rein had suggested. With the Northern sun lowering behind the colorful, flower-framed buildings, she wound through the cobblestone streets of Helvetica, her crimson scarf pulled snug around her face as the Slave Law mandated. The crowd jostled and murmured around her, hawkers shouting, children laughing. But she kept her head low, her mind elsewhere. She had almost succeeded in shutting the world out when one voice rose above the noise, impossible to ignore.

"His Royal Majesty, King Darren of the Kingdom of Noelle has declared war upon the Kingdom of Saíd! All able-bodied men are to sign up to defend their country!"

Nadia froze in the street, the words echoing in her mind like a stone dropped in still water. Around her, people continued about their business, unbothered. A mother tugged a child along by the hand. A vendor rearranged oranges in a basket. Not a single face wore confusion, or fear, no murmurs, no questions. Was this normal? She turned her head slightly, trying to catch the announcer's words as he bellowed from atop a stone fountain in the center of the town square. His voice rang out with theatrical certainty, declaring the king's intent to march upon the enemy.

She moved on, her feet automatic while her mind raced with possible motives for why the king would feel a need to go to war at that time, but no sensible answer surfaced. Nadia's thoughts circled uselessly until her speculations were interrupted once more as she passed a pastry shop, where her eye caught sight of a piece of parchment posted on the adobe wall.

"Reward! Three Dawns! Nadia!"

Her eyes swept the parchment. The words blurred, but the shape of them was unmistakable with her name, her description, and instructions to the public: report immediately to law enforcement if spotted. Nadia's breath hitched. She scanned the street, heart pounding against her ribs. No one stared, but did someone glance too long? Had they seen the flicker of recognition on her face? She yanked her scarf higher, nearly to her eyes, and slipped away from the shop with quick, quiet steps. From now on, no crowds. No lingering. She kept her head down and her pace brisk, weaving through alleys when she could, steering clear of market stalls and open courtyards. She didn't want to be taken to law enforcement; she most certainly didn't want to be taken to the palace.

The only palace Nadia truly desired to go to was the Obsidian Palace. The ocean still called to her like a half-forgotten lullaby. It was the only place where she felt real. Whole. Even though she understood why she couldn't go back. She understood her adoptive mother hated her, but if she could just have another chance to win her affection and approval, she would take it in a heartbeat and give it her all. But now, she could only survive the ocean for three days at a time. Maybe Nadia could go for a little swim. Just for an hour or so. A brush of saltwater against her skin, the currents wrapping around her like old friends. Then she would return to Aimonbay with the golden ball in hand, and her secret safe. What harm could come from one hour of joy?

At last, Nadia reached the familiar mouth of the sea cave where she'd first emerged into her new life, nearly a month ago. The wind carried the sharp tang of salt, and gulls circled lazily overhead. She stepped inside and found the spot where she'd hidden her golden ball, half-buried beneath a curve of stone. It was still there. With a quick glance behind her, she peeled away her scarf and slipped off her soft harem pants, folding them beside the ball. Then, without restraint, she dove headlong into the sea.

The saltwater bit into the lashes on her back, sharp as knives, and she tensed against the sting. The burn deepened as she drifted lower, the pain blooming like fire across her back. But then, slowly, mercifully, the agony dulled into throbbing numbness. Her legs tingled, melted, and reshaped to form her familiar iridescent fishtail, a tapestry of blues and greens that shimmered with each flick.

Nadia gave herself over to the water. She cut through the current with growing ease, memory returning to her limbs like song. She spiraled through ribbons of kelp, tumbled through the waves with laughter rising from her belly, and wove blossoms from coral gardens into her loose, floating hair. A pod of dolphins swept past and she darted after them, playing, teasing, dancing as her tail's silken frills fluttered behind her like a banner of joy. She couldn't remember ever feeling so light. As dusk settled, the sun dipped below the horizon, and the green moon began to rise, full and round. Nadia paused mid-spin, suspended in the water, breath caught. She surfaced.

Green, gold, and sapphire streaks spilled across the sky, threading through cloud and sea. The light bounced off the waves, refracted and mirrored until the world seemed remade in color. Beneath the surface, the moonbeams pierced the ocean like glass pillars forming illuminated corridors of shifting, celestial light. She twirled through them, her arms stretched wide, her hair trailing behind like a comet's tail. For a moment, she wasn't an outcast, or a slave, or a girl with a curse. She was light. She was seafoam. She was free. And then, slowly, inevitably, the moon climbed higher. The light softened. The dance ended.

Perched on a rock not far from shore, Nadia let the night wind dry her tail. Cool air kissed her damp skin as she pulled her knee to her chest, watching the waves roll in and out like breaths she couldn't quite catch. The joy had left a hollow behind. She stared into the dark water, the sting of return creeping into her heart. The ocean had given her a piece of herself, but taking it back hurt more than she expected.

Eventually, her tail dried and gave way to legs once more. The salt clung to her skin, her wounds cooling in the breeze as Nadia dressed in silence. She tucked the golden orb into her satchel, then turned for one final look at the horizon. The Aquamarine Ocean stretched out in endless shimmer under the night sky, green moonlight spilling across its surface like liquid emeralds. It was her second goodbye, and it hurt no less than the first. Maybe more. She couldn't go through this again. It was better to leave the sea behind than to feel it leave her over and over. Even if it meant missing her home forever. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, and swallowed the sob building in her throat. Her body trembled with each step she took away from the shore. Tears slipped quietly down her cheeks, absorbed by the scarf she pressed to her face. It was over. Truly over.

She would never return, not if she wanted to spare herself this grief again. And yet, to keep from unraveling entirely, she allowed herself a small, impossible dream. Maybe—someday—she could live beside the sea. Not in it, but close enough to hear its song. A little cottage on the cliffside. A porch shaded by vines. A horse grazing in a small, wild field. She would have a garden filled with fresh herbs, fruits, vegetables she grew herself. No husband. No children. No master. Just peace. Just her, the ocean, and the happy creatures who never asked her to be anything but herself.

But the vision, rather than soothing her, only deepened the ache in her chest. It felt too far away. She quickly forced these thoughts to come to an end as they were only upsetting her more. They were unrealistic dreams, and she had fought so hard these past weeks to accept her life as it was. The best thing for her to do was to come to terms with reality. After all, these dreams could only come true if she were to be freed from slavery, and not required to live at the Helvetican Palace. And there were only two ways that could happen.

Nadia stopped in her tracks. The tears were forgotten. She had never learned of the second way! Her master had told her the law required for her to be informed of this second path to freedom! With sudden purpose, Nadia ran back to Aimonbay. The wind pulled at her scarf as she crossed through the outskirts, through darkened fields and moonlit courtyards. She hoped that Garnet or Mauro had finished their chores so that she could speak with one of them privately, and without interruptions.

She slowed only when the estate walls came into view, falling into a more casual gait so as not to draw attention. The last thing she needed was someone stopping her with questions, delaying her search with empty chatter. She slipped over the threshold, eyes scanning the dim corridors. She reached her bedroom where she found Garnet twirling in front of a mirror, the gauzy panels of a new bedleh outfit catching the light as she moved. Her face lit up the moment she saw Nadia.

"Look at this, Lila!" Garnet held the skirt out for Nadia to get an eye-full of the dark green sparkles.

"It's lovely, Garnet," Nadia answered. "I'm very jealous."

"Oh, don't be silly! It is nice though. I'm so excited it's finally finished! It was a lot of material to buy, of course, but I regret not even a star."

"As you shouldn't. But listen, I have a question."

"Oh? What is it?"

Nadia sat on the edge of her bed. "Master mentioned something about a Slave Arena being one of the two ways a slave can gain freedom, but he never explained to me what it is. He told me to ask someone else about it."

"Oh, Lila," said Garnet softly. Clearly, she didn't have much faith in this topic. "The Annual Slave Arena is not something you should put your hopes in."

"Either way," Nadia replied. "Aren't I supposed to know about it?"

"Yes, I suppose." Garnet sat beside Nadia. It seemed there was much to explain "The Annual Slave Arena is two really big fights combined into one large event, mainly meant to entertain the nobles and give false hope to slaves. The first fight is between a slave and a beast. If the slave wins the first fight, which they rarely do, they go on to fight their master or, if the master can afford it, someone hired to fight for them, which is usually the case. If one of us were to fight in the arena and make it to the second round, not only can our master afford to hire a well-trained knight, but he was a great knight himself once. So honestly, we're doomed either way. However, if the slave somehow wins both fights, the slave wins freedom. And there you have it. Oh, and just in case you haven't figured it out yet, these are fights to the death. Also, you can still be sold back into slavery if you have nowhere to go besides the streets after winning the arena fights. So, there you have it: a slave's most noble and entertaining suicide."

"You don't win some amount of monetary compensation on the side?" Nadia asked.

"Some what?"

"Some money. As a side-token."

"Of course not; they feel that your freedom should be enough."

Nadia pursed her lips in disapproval of the entire structure. It all had such potential in her mind.

"How many slaves have won their freedom in these arenas?" she asked.

"I think only one or two since I've been alive. I'm thirteen. There's one fight a year, and usually at the very least five slaves fighting in them. If they aren't sentenced to the arena, they usually only sign up to die; it's like a noble suicide to slaves. Nobody really intends to win, but they want to go out fighting against the kingdom."

"What are the rules?"

"Lila, there's really no—"

"I'm just curious, Garnet," Nadia insisted. "Just tell me, I want to know."

Garnet rolled her eyes. "You're allowed all the weapons and armor you can carry. Then, it's the general, honorable sword-fighting rules. Except when you're fighting the beast, of course. It's all about survival during that round."

"Really? Where do slaves get this training?"

"Most don't train. Otherwise, I'm not sure. From someone they know? They save up their stipend and buy lessons? It's all a mystery to me."

"Ah. So how would I sign up, say, if I ever got lessons and decided to give it a shot?"

Garnet was hesitant to answer, but sighed heavily in surrender. "You just tell Master that you wish to fight for your freedom. By law, he can't deny you and if he does, you can go report him to the Association of Slave Owners. But how would you get lessons, Lila?"

Nadia shrugged. "Maybe I'll save up my money for sword-fighting lessons."

"Oh, Lila! Don't be foolish. Even with sword-fighting lessons you can't fight off a wild beast!"

"Maybe I can find someone to teach me."

"Who on Xyntriav can teach someone how to fight a wild beast?"

"I'm sure there's someone," Nadia insisted. "You said so yourself that since you've been alive, at least one slave beat the entire arena. He must've learned how to fight beasts from someone. Besides, I have to save up for lessons that are sure to be expensive, so I have time to find out who. Now help me find a place to hide this."

Garnet looked at the satchel Nadia had with her. "Is that the ball?"

"The one and only."

Garnet scanned their bedroom. "Well, there aren't very many places in here to hide it."

"I don't know where else to hide it, except the forest. But that's just as safe as the cave, and Rein didn't like it there."

"Check under your bed," Garnet said.

They both got on the hardwood floor and peered under Nadia's bed, but it didn't appear helpful. They sat back on their heels, and took a moment to think.

"I feel like the safest places in here are my dresser drawers or underneath my pillow," Nadia said. "Which isn't much."

"Well, let's put it in one of your drawers for now, and then ask Rein about it next time we see her," Garnet suggested.

Nadia shrugged. "I can't come up with a better thought."

Nadia put the satchel in her second drawer with the ball still inside, covered it with some of the clothes she borrowed from Garnet, and left it at that.

※

The next Market Day dawned bright and restless on the first Newday of Dêldia, and as always, it was chaos. The streets boiled with movement: vendors shouting, children darting underfoot, animals bleating and braying, all wrapped in a haze of dust and noise thick enough to choke on. Polaris arrived at the peak of it. He rode in slow and steady, towering over the crowd on the back of Borealis, his midnight-black Roshirian warhorse; a rare and noble variety easy to train for war, but difficult to breed. These horses were easy to identify due to being marked from birth with rare adornments, such as gems and precious metals. Borealis's golden mane and tail glinted in the sun, and on his forehead, just between the eyes, gleamed an oval garnet sprouting from the skin. He was one of Polaris's most prized possessions.

Drake, Polaris's letmonian companion, had been left behind. The sight of a native letmonian still unsettled most Noellites: the sharp lines of their bones visible beneath loose tunics, skulls wrapped in brilliant turbans, their presence as foreign as a desert wind. Many in this land had never even heard of letmonians, let alone seen one.

Polaris made sure to wear the golden crest of Noelle across the saddle of Borealis. This way, even though the streets were crowded, the townsfolk would do their best to make way for him. Still, there were just too many people and too little space. Fortunately, he desired to travel at a slow pace anyway to get a good look at every market stand without missing Count Rallian's slaves, so this suited him just fine. His eyes moved methodically over the madness, scanning for the count's family crest. He wasn't foolish enough to rely on recognizing Nadia directly. Her hair would be different, and in public, she'd be veiled like all slaves. No name, no voice, no face. The crest would be easier.

Deep into town, Polaris made no progress in his search and began to wonder if he had missed the market stand. Just as frustration began to coil in his gut, a faint buzz fluttered in front of him, and a dim glow flickered in Borealis's golden mane.

Rein shielded herself in the horse's thick hair, and kept her voice low. "I found her. But we can't take her to the palace."

Polaris arched a brow at Rein. "Why ever not?"

"Can you imagine what Queen Ariana will do to her?"

"I can protect her from Queen Ariana. In either case, this will prevent a war, Rein."

"You don't know this for certain."

"I'm not following..."

"We should discuss this elsewhere," Rein said, glancing around. "You look ridiculous talking to yourself in public."

Polaris tugged Borealis sharply to the side, guiding him off the crowded street and into the shadowed hush of a narrow alley. The noise of the market faded behind him, muffled by stone walls and the weight of stillness. There, in the dim, Rein emerged to hover at eye-level with the royal advisor.

"What's the meaning of this, Rein?" Polaris hissed. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

"I was so caught up in rescuing Nadia from her predicament that I failed to recognize the realistic consequences of bringing her to the palace."

"If this is still about the queen, I assure you I can handle her," Polaris insisted. "As can the king."

"He hasn't thus farm," Rein argued. "You can't be around Nadia constantly, and you surely haven't as many resources as Ariana. Nadia will never be perfectly safe in the palace so long as Queen Ariana is alive and has loyal followers."

"And what about this war?" Polaris asked. "If we introduced Nadia to the kingdom as evidence that Saíd doesn't have her, there is no war to be had."

"Unless Ariana convinces the people that she isn't Nadia. Only the king and queen know what she looks like; what happens when they apparently can't agree on who Nadia is? Then suddenly it appears perhaps they didn't share the same dream, and now there is no prophecy. Let's not be too hasty about this, Polaris. Clearly there are more pieces to this puzzle that we've overlooked, and we need to consider them before we make any drastic moves. Such as, who else is this loyal to the queen? Where is the safest place for Nadia at this time? In either case, Nadia isn't ready. She prefers her current situation to living in the same household as Queen Ariana."

Polaris narrowed his eyes. "You mean she wishes to remain a slave?"

"No, she just wishes to avoid the palace at all costs. She wants to be freed more than anything."

Polaris paused. A measured lecture, clear and unflinchingly logical, delivered by a pixie. The irony wasn't lost on him. Had he really been so consumed with proving this prophecy, so determined to stop the war, that he'd ignored the cracks forming beneath his own logic? The thought unsettled him. Yet, the longer he sat with it, the more it rang true. He had charged ahead with the weight of nations on his shoulders, but perhaps it was time for him to take another step back, and review his methods and their likely consequences.

"Let me speak to her at least," he finally said.

It was Rein's turn to pause. "Very well. She's just a short distance down this way."

Rein nestled herself into the flowing strands of Borealis's mane, nearly invisible amid the gleam. Polaris rode down the crowded street at a steady pace, his gaze sweeping the rows of market stands as he waited for Rein to spot Nadia. Then, at last, Rein lifted one slender arm from the horse's hair and pointed.

"There. She's the one in the purple." Then Rein flew off to avoid the eyes surrounding her.

Nadia had finished helping an elderly customer, and turned to Mauro who handled the cashbox.

"This is wonderful!" Nadia said. "Look at how much money we're making!"

"I know!" Mauro replied with matched enthusiasm. "I think we'll make more than we did last time!"

"The Count of Helvetica's possessions for sale! Come buy what used to belong to the countess!"

Polaris approached the stand, and looked directly at Nadia. "Young lady, you're a wonderful saleswoman. Tell me your name."

Nadia's eyes widened at the sight of the royal crest on Polaris's horse. She worked to keep her sight on the horse's snout. "Lila, sir."

"Is that what it says on your cuff there?" Polaris questioned.

"Yes, sir." Nadia angled her arm so to give Polaris an easier view of the writing engraved into the gold.

"I see. How long have you been serving the count?"

"Over a month, sir."

"And you're how old?"

Nadia hesitated. "Eleven, sir."

Polaris paused. The child in the dream had been ten years old. "Have you recently had a birthday?"

Nadia's eyes went wide again, and she almost looked at Polaris. "Y-yes, sir."

Polaris nodded. That explained it. "I'd like you to come with me, please."

Now everyone's eyes went wide, and Nadia turned to one of the servants, who was lanky in stature.

"Your Honor." The servant stepped in front of Borealis and peered up at the royal advisor with his glowing blue leshy eyes. "What should I tell the count? He expects Lila to return immediately after Market Day ends."

"I will send him a message from the palace. It will reach him before you do, you have my word."

"Nazar!" came Miss Mirriot's voice. "She doesn't know the Slave Law when it concerns royalty and nobility!"

"Your Honor," said the servant. "Will you allow the miss to inform Lila of the law?"

"Of course." Polaris dismounted and stood patiently beside his horse.

Nadia rushed to Miss Mirriot, trembling as if she were freezing despite the humid spring weather. "What do I do, Miss Mirriot? What if Master gets upset? What if I break one of the laws?"

"Calm down, my dear," Miss Mirriot replied. "This man is noble not just by social status, you needn't worry so much. And Master won't be upset with you, I promise. However, you must still obey the law as much as you possibly can. So whatever you do, don't make eye contact with anyone, but you must make sure they can see your eyes at all times. Do everything you're told, and do not speak unless your response is requested. When you do speak, be sure it's the honest truth. Should someone witness you disobeying any of these rules, it could mean your head. The law sees no age limit, my dear, and the royal advisor can only protect you so much. Now go on. Everything will be fine."

Nadia gave a small nod and stepped toward the royal advisor, arms wrapped tightly around herself in a quiet attempt to steady the trembling. Without a word, Polaris reached out and lifted her, gently settling her onto Borealis's saddle. Once she was secure, he turned to face the gathered slaves and servants.

"Thank you very much. If I don't have her back by the end of the day, I'll be sure to let your master know."