Page 44 of Twins for the Barbarians

“Well, it’s not exactly unknown, is it?” Darain says. “Everyone’s dead. They’ve been dead for years, and the only reason we’re still standing is that we follow our king.”

The merchant waves her statement away and shifts his focus back to me. “Will you be purchasing the bracelet, then, good sir?”

“If you don’t mind, we’ll do another tour of the market first,” I reply.

He nods slightly, though he clearly isn’t happy because he didn’t make the sale, but the lady, Darain, draws his attention away from us with her shoddy negotiation tactics while Helios and I keep going. We pass a carpenter’s stall just as he’s trying to sell a fancy blackwood chair to two young men. The light of our twin suns gives the chair a nice sheen.

“When are the hunters coming back?” one of the young men asks the other.

“I think tomorrow,” the second young man replies.

“Will you attend the return ceremony?”

The first young man shrugs, making clear that going to the ceremony does not interest him in the least. “I’d attend it, but only if I were a returning hunter myself, to be honest. But every time I try to sign up for the Hunters’ Guild, they turn me away. I would kill to be able to get out of this city, if only for a few days.”

“What does one need to do in order to be admitted into the Hunters’ Guild?” Helios asks the two men.

The carpenter raises an eyebrow, already annoyed since he’s trying to sell a chair to these two, and we’re just adding to the useless chit-chat. “You need to be in top physical condition, first and foremost,” he says, then points at his skinny customers. “Which these two are not. Granted, they’re still kids…”

“Hey, I’m no kid. I’ll be eighteen next summer!” the first man says.

“And you also need to be over eighteen,” the carpenter adds.

“I’m nineteen,” the second guy says. “And to be fair, I’m in good shape. I can run really fast.”

Helios chuckles softly. “It takes more than speed to hunt big game, I’m afraid.”

“You two would be welcomed with open arms into the Hunters’ Guild,” the carpenter replies, pointing to Helios and Kharo. “They’re always scouring the city, looking for new recruits.”

“I take it not all the hunters return from these trips?” I ask.

He gives me a confused look. “You speak as though you’re not from around here.”

“Which is impossible,” the first guy snorts a dry chuckle.

I laugh. “Oh, no, sir…but most of my work is done indoors. I barely leave the house.”

“I had to drag him out of the library today,” Helios adds.

The more we talk to these people, the more we understand their general mindset. They’re calm and peaceful, respectful of the law. But there’s a tinge of fear in each of their voices. And I notice a big difference in attitude between the generations.

Those who were alive when the government tried to kill them after the city was sealed remember the ordeal all too well. They seem to be King Solomon’s most ardent followers. The younger generation, those born after the city was left behind, yearns to explore the world, to see what’s really out there. Some of them have had thoughts of escaping, but from what I’ve heard, the punishment for such a defection is severe enough to keep them from actually trying it themselves.

They think the rest of the world is dead. The youngest ones are especially irritated that their king insists on keeping everyone here instead of spreading out and repopulating Sunna with their sacred blood.

As the suns reach their highest point in the sky, Helios and I prepare to leave the market behind and head back to the palace. “They all think they have sacred blood in their veins since they survived the plague,” I mutter.

“Kingo should test that blood and see how sacred it actually is,” Helios scoffs.

“He could take a sample from one of these folks at some point. He’s got enough glass vials in his bag for that, doesn’t he?”

“Who in their right mind would simply let a stranger prick them and draw their blood?”

“We can figure something out,” I say, brushing off his concern. “I am curious as to how they survived. I’m not buying what Solomon said. It’s definitely not a miracle.”

“I’m not buying anything about Solomon,” Helios shoots back with a cold smirk. “That fucker is holding out on us.” He stops and pales at the sight of soldiers turning the corner and rapidly approaching the market. “Shit, we have to move.”

I follow him as we turn the other way and walk briskly toward the other end of the market. We hear snatches of conversation all around us. Smells from the food stalls mingle in my nostrils. A merchant pops open a bottle of wine somewhere close by, and I’m dazzled by its fragrance. The whole marketplace is so alive, so bustling with energy. It’s a microcosm of society trapped behind big, black walls. The more I see, the more I hear, the more I taste, the more convinced I am that we cannot let the Sky Tribe ever learn about this place.

---