Sylvia in the Wilds Read online



  Sylvia in the Wilds

  A Short Story

  Liz Delton

  SYLVIA IN THE WILDS

  by Liz Delton

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real.

  Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons is

  entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 Liz Delton

  All rights reserved.

  Edited by Jo Anderson

  Cover photo by Justin Luebke, used under Creative Commons Zero license. Cover design by Liz Delton.

  Seals for the Four Cities by Christopher Creed.

  Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Epilogue

  Read More: The Arcera Trilogy

  About the Author

  One

  Sylvia slammed the door to the glassworks shop on her way out, much harder than she’d meant to.  Great, she fumed.  She was stuck in Lightcity for two whole weeks.  

  All of her contracts would be pushed back now.  She knew without a doubt she must wait—her contract with the Councilman from Skycity was worth more than the trouble—but what was she to do stuck here for two weeks?

  Sure, there was enough time to head home to Meadowcity and back, but it wouldn’t be worth the effort.  Four days trekking through the wilds just to get there, and she’d only have a few days at home before she would have to get back on the road.  No, she would just have to wait here until the glassworker finished making the item she was to deliver.

  She let out a great sigh as she turned up another narrow stone street and headed back toward the inn.  The morning sun blinded her until she ducked into the shadows of the buildings on the northern side of the street.

  Though it was Sylvia’s job as a Rider to deliver messages and packages throughout the Four Cities of Arcera, she had been looking forward to finishing up her contracts and heading home to Meadowcity for a much-needed break.  It had been months since she’d stayed at home longer than a few days—and then only because her work brought her back there.

  After retracing her earlier steps back to the inn, she spotted it down the familiar alley.  It was hard to miss with its heavy wooden door painted black, and distinct window panes which were darkly tinted.

  She pushed open the door to the Charred Oak, and inhaled the tempting scent of freshly baked bread.  She had skipped breakfast, hoping to be out of the city with her package before mid-morning, so instead of returning to her room, she strode up to the counter where the innkeeper was pouring herself a cup of tea.

  The woman spotted Sylvia as she raised the cup to her lips and she took a sip, closing her eyes briefly.

  “Morning, m’dear,” the innkeeper said, setting down her cup.  “Will you be needing a bit of food for the road?  When did you say you were setting out?”

  The stout woman turned around and began neatly slicing some bread and cheese on a low counter.

  “I’m not anymore,” Sylvia told her, “I’ll be staying,” she added as the woman turned back, heel of bread in one hand and knife in the other.

  The woman’s face changed from its brow-furrowed look of concentration, to a kind expression of understanding as she set down the knife.  “Ah, the life of a Rider,” she said knowingly.  “Never know what to expect, do you?”

  Sylvia returned the smile.  “It keeps me guessing,” she agreed as she settled onto a stool in front of the counter.

  Without a word, the innkeeper handed over the plate of fresh bread, sliced cheese and sausages.  Sylvia grinned and dug in.

  The inn was quiet except for her own chewing and the sound of the innkeeper clinking glasses together as she dusted around them.  Sylvia had arrived late last night, and the innkeeper—Sylvia recalled that her name was Aurora—had told her she’d be the only one staying that night.  It wasn’t entirely unusual; Riders were constantly traveling between the cities and didn’t stay in one place long.  

  There were only a handful of inns in each of the Four Cities to house visiting Riders, since so few were drawn to the dangerous life on the road.  Sylvia was sure there would be at least another Rider in the inn by this evening.  She had met plenty of other Riders on days like these, swapping stories and talking of the trails long into the night.

  Just as she stuffed the last of her breakfast into her mouth, and was reaching for the cup of tea Aurora had poured her, the door of the inn burst open.

  Instead of a travel-weary Rider, though, the morning sun silhouetted a small child in the doorframe.  As the child stepped into the light, Sylvia realized it was a little girl, whose hair was flying askew, and whose stockings were pulled unevenly up her legs.

  The little girl leaned heavily on the doorknob, catching her breath as though she had been running.

  “What’s wrong?” Sylvia asked, hopping down from her stool.

  The girl peered into the inn, which was much darker than the sun-lit street.  She spotted Sylvia and Aurora, and trudged inside.

  “I—my sister—” she squeaked, and tears began to slide down her pudgy cheeks.  Sylvia thought she couldn’t be more than four or five.

  Sylvia dropped to a crouch and met the girl’s wide blue eyes as the innkeeper rushed around the counter, making soothing hushing noises.  Sylvia reached out and took the girl’s hand; her own sister Sonia wasn’t much older than this little girl.

  “What’s wrong?” she repeated softly.

  The little girl gave a sniff, drawing a hand up to bat at her wet cheeks.  “My sister says she’s going out into the wilds,” she got out, before her words turned into sobs.

  “Where’s your sister now?” Sylvia asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

  “Home,” the girl blurted between bouts of nose-blowing.  Aurora had brought her a handkerchief, and was now coaxing the girl into a chair.

  “How old is she?” Sylvia asked.

  “Thirteen.”

  Sylvia grit her teeth.  The girl could very well be training to become a Rider at that age, but it certainly wouldn’t be safe to go into the wilds alone, unless the girl was exceptionally skilled.  Sylvia herself had only been allowed to leave Meadowcity alone when she was fifteen—something she had to convince her father, who had trained her, by demonstrating over and over that she could defend herself in the wilds.

  The empty spaces between the cities weren’t just dangerous for their treacherous trails, steep cliffs and sometimes un-crossable rivers—but for the beasts that ruled there.

  Many a trained Hunter or Rider had lost their life to a ravenous wolf or an angry mountain lion over the years.  The humans who ventured out into the wilds were very much outnumbered.  The wilds were unpredictable; beautiful, yet full of mystery.  And Sylvia had never liked leaving a mystery unturned.

  The thought of a thirteen-year-old girl trudging out alone sent Sylvia back to a stand.  Her legs tingled unpleasantly as the blood began to redistribute itself.  She turned to the innkeeper, eyebrows raised.  “Do you know these girls?” she asked in an undertone.

  Aurora raised one shoulder in half a shrug.  “I’ve seen them before,” she replied, equally quiet.  “Their parents are both Riders.  I think they might both be out of the city at the moment,” she finished, biting her lip.

  Sylvia turned back to the little girl.  “What’s your name?” she asked softly.

  “Gloriana,” she replied with a sniff.

  “And your sister?”

  “Maddy.”

  “Well, Glor
iana, you stay here with Aurora, alright?  I’ll go talk to Maddy and make sure she doesn’t leave the city, okay?”

  With a bob of her head, Gloriana settled herself into the chair, distractedly twisting the hem of her shirt.  

  Sylvia left quickly after Aurora told her where the girls lived.  As she walked, she silently rehearsed the things she could say to the girl to keep her from going out into the wilds.

  By the time she reached the villa Aurora had described, she thought she had worked up a pretty good argument.  The trouble was, the girl had already left.

  Two