The Search for Terror (ONC 2021)

Chapter 6

      Just to make sure, Amaia walked the length of the city's main high-street once more. Floating everywhere were zombified suits, sunken eyes and frowns decorating their faces like haunted lanterns on October 31st. 

      This was bigger than any person alone, but she could solve it as one. 

      Her plan, the one she'd so desperately wanted to avoid using, was the only way to stop this before it got out of hand. Before the misery spread to the children of this dark and gloomy place that lit itself with bright colours, trying to pretend everything was okay. People like Rahim gave her a small hope, but her fate was written in stone, and that small hope would not be enough to stop what was to come. 

      She hurried from the city, through the surrounding towns, and only stopped once she'd made it to the border. Crouching, she untied her shoes and placed them on the chalk line that a group of children had once scratched onto the stone with laughter in their throats. She tucked the socks neatly into them. 

      Amaia rose slowly, pushing her knees downward. Her gaze landed on the chalk with a smile. A crude border, but one her people had grown to love, as families had added their own chalk drawings along it. 

      As though the Heavens agreed, it never rained over that strip. 

      Stepping carefully over the art, Amaia imagined herself coming down here with her own parents to make her own addition. Maybe in a different world, she did. 

      She lowered her hand into the bag, tensing at the contact with the itchy material, and removed her crown. The metal was warm after its time hidden away, strange to the touch. Unfamiliar. Ignoring it, she flattened her hair before placing the crown neatly on top of her head. Suddenly, it was almost as though it had never left. 

      Queen once more, every two paces greeted her with another smile and wave, and she wondered if the warmth of her own people would fade too if she were nothing but a rough-looking orphan amongst them. 

      "Queen Amaia!" A cheery voice called for her from down the street, "Ah, there you are! How lovely to have found you, and in good time!" The man, rather round but with a smile bigger than his image, announced excitedly, "Your aunt's things have just arrived at the castle, Your Highness. How splendid that she will be spending time here!"

      "Lovely, splendid, yes, yes indeed," Amaia muttered in all the right places—or at least, she hoped. And then it dawned on her. "Rumpelgeist?"

      Mr. Qasim grinned, "Waiting not-so-patiently with your aunt." 

      Amaia matched his grin, unable to help herself. She thanked him and politely tore herself away from conversation, rushing to the castle as queen-like as she could, speed-walking whenever possible. It was no use wishing she could run like a child would, though she did anyway. What fun it must be to feel the wind through your hair as the ground dashed past underfoot. 

      A forever later, the guards were opening the front door for her, and she was climbing the stairs with desperation. It had been eight years since she'd been allowed to see her dog. He'd be so much bigger now. Would he even remember her? 

      The door opened before she had chance to knock and her aunt started, "Wipe that grin from your face, child, you're Queen now. But go ahead, say hello to- Rumpelgeist!" She glared at the orange-brown blur that had shot past her and leapt for Amaia. 

      There was no stopping her grin after that. Amaia crouched, resting one knee on the ground, and gave her dog the biggest hug he'd ever had, running her fingers through the long hair of his ears and shaking them side to side as she rubbed his head. Taking the basket of his things from her aunt's outstretched hand, Amaia smiled, standing, "Come on, Rumpel. You're staying with me now." She walked to her bedroom with a spring she couldn't quite squash, Rumpelgeist keeping pace beside her, his head at her hip. 

      It was good timing that he should arrive now, she thought, because she wanted him as safe as possible while her plan went ahead. 

      And it would, as soon as Saqat returned with his men. 

      Suddenly, she realised his team was still scoping out the area she herself had just ventured through. Luckily, she hadn't recognised anyone amongst the crowds, though they were trained to blend in. It didn't matter, though, she supposed, whether they'd seen her or not. No one would be bold enough to question it. 

      For the following hours, she tossed a ball around her sleeping quarters for Rumpelgeist. His bed and blanket were neatly arranged in the corner, the toys—still in the basket—sat nestled in the spare pillows in her wardrobe. 

      At some point, Issar had joined her, excited to meet the special boy she'd talked about so often with him during late, sleepless nights. 

      When they realised they couldn't see where the ball had rolled to a stop, they found themselves sat on the floor in the dark, evening having fallen an hour or so before. Laughing, Issar said, "Can't wait to do this again tomorrow, Mai." Grinning, she nodded, allowing herself that moment. She leaned over, and he closed the gap, just as a loud knock sounded at the door. 

      They burst apart, Amaia leaping to her feet and hurrying to open the door before whoever it was kicked it in. "Just thought you should know that Warrior Ayad has just returned, Your Majesty," they said, their voice holding not a hint of the confidence that had been in the knock. 

      "Thank you," Amaia answered, "Send him to the throne room." Nodding, the servant rushed off to find the man they'd likely only just parted from. 

      "Tomorrow?" Issar laughed, beside her then. 

      She grinned her agreement, avoiding words so that she couldn't be held accountable for lying. Tomorrow, she would be busy. As she would be for the next month or so. 'Afterwards,' she promised him. 'We'll have forever together afterwards.'