The Charlatan

24. The Horn Gate

Charlie absent-mindedly twirled the talisman hanging from her neck as she watched the scenery outside the window of her train compartment change from expansive fields to marshland and active riverbeds. She had left behind her home in the Citadel. The last time she had locked up the bar for the night was the last time she had collected her wages, and the last time she had felt secure in the fortress of a city she called home.

The night had been a blur of action and emotion. Torches were lit when they should have long been out. A call for a mandatory city gathering and a King's official address to the public was announced by night patrollers when Charlie should have been safely dreaming. The cityfolk's hushed whispers turned into surprised shouts as the King – alive and well, to much of their awe – marched out onto his raised podium and let his voice boom across the crowd.

"Citizens. These past weeks have been trying for all of us. We have been forced to keep quiet about very volatile and sensitive matters, but now we have a hold. As of tomorrow night, all Veltie citizens of the Citadel are subject to curfew. At moonrise, we close our gates and shut our fortress. We are at war, dear citizens, and the enemy has been closer than we realized."

"What?! What is he saying?! We had a spy amongst us?!"

"A spy? Don't be ridiculous; for something this grave it must have been a master assassin. Who knows which peripheral country set their greedy eyes on our wealth this time."

"Trust no one," the King continued. "The Veltie people have been targeted by none other than the one who calls theirself the Charlatan. A spy of the Genesese people. They have stolen all of our riches, by taking advantage of our trust, our hospitality. We have received Genesis' official declaration of war, but there is no telling who will come to their aid with the gold the Charlatan has on hand to bribe them. The Citadel must be fortified, and wartime conditions put into effect. They will never breach our glorious city. But my dear citizens, we must keep our eyes out for spies, and our blades raised to kill."

Charlie had fled immediately. Her fiery hair and freckled cheeks were markers of her Passerinian heritage, no matter her status as a Veltie citizen. She was known citywide for her silver tongue, ever since the incident with the royal guard, and she was under suspicion and investigation by 'most everyone. The King would not care about one citizen's struggles, especially when he had just gone back on Clara's temporary pardon. She, and by extension, Charlie, no longer had immunity. Charlie knew it was only a matter of time before she would be jailed. Or hanged. Or have her throat sliced by a once-friendly Veltie blade. The death warrant was out on the Charlatan – Clara – and any co-conspirators and friends who set foot in the Citadel. Sooner or later, the citizens of Velt would be overcome by either the truth or their paranoia. That meant uprising or death. Life-threatening danger either way. Charlie had to flee to keep her safety before the Citadel closed its gates, and in the dead of night she did just so. She left comfort and familiarity behind, and fled with her back to the setting moon, wondering if this was how Clara had felt months ago.

Charlie fidgeted in her seat, agitated at the not-so-distant memory. She sat alone in her car, having just made the first train out to Mor at sunrise. As she watched out the window, pursing her lips in an attempt to will out her climbing distress, she suddenly caught sight of an unusual change in terrain. The raging waters of the Polar Light River had vanished, replaced by a forest of evergreens. Confused, Charlie sat up straighter and continued to focus on the passing trees, trees of the type that thrived in cool airs. Airs which were decidedly not anything like the climate of Velt or of the Polar Light Port where the entrance to Mor stood. As the forest thinned, Charlie's vision was flooded by expansive rocky beaches that dipped into the East Ocean. What is going on? Charlie thought as she watched her homeland of Passerine open up before her.