He took a step forward when a sharp slap across his mouth forced his gaze away from the symbol. Vertigo made Clod stumble back into Haim’s strong arms, and breakfast churned uncomfortably in his belly.
“Clod,” Ada shouted.
“Yuh,” he said, shaking his head. “Did you hit me?”
“Yuh,” she said mockingly. “Don’t look at the thing on the floor.”
“Right,” he said, slowly pulling away from Haim and steadying himself. “That’s some dark magic. It must be making Ried cast the spell.”
“How do we stop him?” Haim asked. “Pull him down?”
Clod gently pulled his arms away from the constant tugging on both of his sleeves. His mum and Ada finally stopped, and he looked at his mum.
“Clod,” Eidy said, her voice heavy. “You know what you have to do.”
“Get him,” Ada said with a nod, well-versed in Clod’s grievances with Ried over the years.
“Do…what?” the old malgam asked.
“I give life, like I do with Ada,” Clod said. He closed his eyes and reluctantly admitted, “I can also take it.”
“Oh,” Haim said softly.
“I don’t want to,” Clod said. “He bullied me all through school, but that’s not enough to kill someone. But, if he’s the one doing this…”
Haim said nothing, looking at him thoughtfully with cloudy green eyes. Clod shivered with reluctance, and taking a deep breath, slowly stepped forward.
“You don’t always know what makes people do things,” Haim said, speaking each word carefully around his thick tusks. “You never know their demons.”
Clod turned around. Both he and his mum faced the large malgam.
Haim looked as serious as death. “Do the right thing, Clod. You always do,” he said, patting him on the arm. “Almost always.” He winked.
Nothing obstructed his path, but it felt like an eternity passed before he reached Ried. He kept his eyes on the floating man, refusing to look down. His heart raced as every step took more effort and his feet became colder. Was it Ried? Was it the evil symbol? Or was it Clod? He grunted at his own weakness and tried shaking it off before facing his classmate. The armored man hanging in the air was just within arm’s reach.
“Help me,” Ried said weakly. “Clod, I’m sorry for everything. Please help me.”
“Only one way I know how,” Clod said, reaching toward him.
A small part of Clod, the smallest, wanted to jerk Ried from the air and clobber him. The urge was strong enough to make him hesitate. Even though revenge was tempting, he really didn’t want to kill Ried. There had to be another way. Killing him might be easiest, but it didn’t feel right. The bully was a floating corpse who struggled to talk, to move. Despite his condition, his haunting eyes flitted to a crumpled pile of brown cloak lying on a corner of the red square symbol.
“What are you waiting for, Clod?” Ada called. “Do it.”
Clod ignored her and shuffled over to the body, covering his view of the glowing red mark beneath him with a hand. He rolled the robed mass over with a foot. The figure sprawled, and the robe fell away, revealing the face of Yugen.
Mayor Yugen was breathing but unconscious, and Clod now considered ending both of them. Who would know? His mother, Ada, and Haim would understand more than anyone. If killing Ried and “accidentally” killing Yugen saved the city, all would be forgiven, and he would be the hero. It was more than a little tempting.
He glanced at the other cloaked figures, each lying on a different corner of the square. Yugen was the only one who appeared to be breathing. Had Ried killed them? That didn’t make sense. There were no signs of lightning burns or freezing or other weather-like attacks. Ried wasn’t a nice person, but he’d never been a source of evil. He couldn’t be. Ried had always wanted to be popular, and being evil wasn’t very popular.
“Yugen brought me here, said it would stop the war,” Ried wheezed. “All five of them did this to me…it was a trap.”
Power continued flowing through the young man hovering over everything. It smelled like burned sausage, and made the hairs on Clod’s arms rise. Ried wasn’t the bad guy. Not this time. This spell was something else. Someone else. There were only four bodies in front of the council’s bench, all crumpled heaps.
“Where’s the fifth?” Clod asked.
“Look at the stairs,” Ada called out. “To the right.”
The tiny kitten, all arched backed and hackles, crept up the stairs like a fierce hunter. Clod followed, grateful to leave the coldness of the red symbol behind.
“Don’t leave me,” Ried whispered. “End this.”
“Shut up,” Clod said. With a deep breath, he climbed the short flight of stairs and turned the corner.
Standing behind the high bench made Clod feel like a sneak-thief. This was a place for council members, not for Clods. The elders should’ve been here, and he wished they were.
Behind the center seat, where Priest Muane should’ve been, was a small, crouched body. Hetomancer Styff wore nothing but shadows that hovered around her like a dark cloud. Her hands were raised high and pointed at poor Ried like a weapon. Her arms vibrated with an unnatural power that made them hard to see. She muttered words that drew Clod in, tempting him, angering him, like the symbol on the floor.
He tried to ignore her incantation, instead listening to the awful, high-pitched buzzing from the light pouring out of Ried’s hands. Clod took a small step toward Styff, and then another. Instead of his normal long gait, he inched forward, as though weighed down by stronger gravity and the power of death.
Every movement was harder than the last. He wanted to stop, he longed to collapse into a heap like the robed bodies scattered around the symbol. When Styff was only two arms’ lengths away, he fell to a knee.
“You can’t stop me,” Styff whispered, her head down and her eyes squeezed shut. “You will fall like the others. You are nothing but clay.”
The effort was draining, leaving Clod shaky, even more tired than after a long weekend of chasing Ada through the forest. Sleepiness overtook him, and his vision became clouded. He tried crawling forward, but even the thought exhausted him.
A small, cool hand rested on his. Ada.
“Never apart,” she said.
“Together to the end,” he said with a nod.
The kitten rubbed its tiny head against their hands, apparently not affected the same way they were. It was enough to make them both smile, and in a way, helped.
They crawled together. The inches took minutes that seemed more like hours, like weeks, each movement forward more draining than the last. Styff didn’t stop her spell, and it felt as if she was drawing power and life from him now. When they finally reached her, he didn’t know if he could do what he needed to.
“Do it, Clod,” Ada shouted.
“Together,” he said.
“How?” she asked.
“That place you go when we’re apart,” Clod said, his voice like gravel. “Make it like that.”
Together, Ada and Clod reached forward and touched Styff’s hand. When they’d been outside, in the storm, cold had enveloped his body. This was a coldness that came from inside as he drew in life from the hetomancer. He’d only done something like this once before, when he’d let Noret go. The spy had already been dead so it was easy. This was like fishing a shark from an ice-covered ocean, and the two friends howled at the effort.
Styff screamed and screamed, pressing her palms against her temples as she reared back on her knees. She glared at them, her scream silenced, then finally collapsed with a hiss.
The panic slowly leaving Clod’s heart was replaced with worry that this had been too much for Ada. They’d both been crawling, and were now lying on their stomachs. His friend gasped for breath and leaned into him. She was still here, she was breathing, and he tried his best not to crush her in his awkward side-hug. He sniffed deeply, and convinced himself that tears weren’t streaming down his cheeks. That had to be moistur
e from the weather, right?
There was a crash of metal followed by a cool breeze from the open roof. Ried must’ve fallen, which meant he was free from the spell.
Clod ached more than after his first day working for Haim. He rolled to his back, and Ada found a place in the crook of his shoulder. The kitten crawled to his chest, turned around several times proudly as if basking in its own heroics, then plopped down for a well-deserved nap. They both chuckled while staring up at the broken ceiling. The summer sun was already breaking through the clouds while flakes of snow still fell. A gust of cool, fresh air blew away the smell of burning. The light shining down on them through the open roof was almost too much. He blinked away the snow tickling his eyelids.
“So,” Ada said, wiggling deeper into his arm. “What are we going to do tomorrow?”
“I hear cat training is even harder than this,” he said. “If you’re up for the challenge?”
“I dunno,” she said. “It doesn’t sound safe.”
They laughed until an enormous, shadowy figure hovered over them.
“Can you stand?” Haim asked, staring down with concern.
Clod looked at Ada. Her eyes smiled through exhaustion, and they both nodded at the malgam. Haim lifted the spent kitten by the scruff and placed it in a pocket before reaching for them with unnaturally long arms. Taking Haim’s hands, they stood shakily and followed the baker around to Ried, or what was left of him.
The bully’s breaths were so shallow it was painful to hear. He waved Clod in closer. Eidy, Haim, and Ada stomped out as much of the symbol on the floor as they could. It probably wasn’t necessary, since the square no longer glowed, but it gave Clod and Ried time, and there wasn’t much left. Clod knelt weakly, practically falling on Ried, catching himself at the last second.
“I would’ve deserved that,” Ried said.
“Yuh,” Clod agreed. “But not all this.”
“I thought I was being a hero. I guess that was your job,” Ried said softly. “How did it end this way?”
“You wanted to be a hero because you thought it would make people like you,” Clod said. “I only did it because I had to.”
“I’m sorry, Clod,” Ried said.
“You’re forgiven,” Clod said.
Ried’s eyelids fell and didn’t open again. Clod held his classmate’s hand and wept. They’d never been close, the man had almost always been a bully, but they also had a lot of history—and death isn’t something that should be taken lightly.
“Is it over?” Mayor Yugen grumbled from the other side of the room.
“It’s going to be,” Clod said, standing with newfound energy.
“What…what’s going on?” Yugen said, pushing himself up to sit. “What happened?”
“You did!” Clod squeezed his fists until his knuckles popped. He took lumbering steps forward as Yugen scrambled away. “Ried told us. You lured him here and helped cast the spell that killed him and brought a winter storm. Who knows how many people you killed? Now it’s your turn.”
Clod pulled back his fist, and for the first time ever, no one tried to stop him. Who would’ve? Ried may not have been the source of all evil, but Yugen was. Clod had never been so furious. Not only did he want to kill Yugen with his touch, he wanted that touch to be with his knuckles.
“It was Styff,” Yugen squealed, holding out both hands. “She stole our minds and forced us to cast this spell. You know what hetomancy can do. I taught you, I taught you.” His hands covered his face, and he turned away with his eyes squeezed shut.
Standing over the frightened man gave Clod a certain power. Not only was he larger and stronger than Yugen, his magic could kill instantly. There was nothing Yugen could do, absolutely nothing, and it made Clod feel…it really made him feel…like Ried.
Yugen’s story was viable enough that there was a shadow of doubt. Clod knew this, just as he knew this was his one opportunity to destroy the man. He wouldn’t, because it was wrong, and in a way, this was just bullying. With every remaining ounce of reserve, Clod let go of his anger and loosened his fist.
“I don’t believe one word,” Clod said. “But I won’t kill you, because I’m better than you are.”
Yugen stood, brushing off his robes in disgust.
“I’ll be by tomorrow to help with the shop,” Clod said to Haim. “If you like.”
“I like,” Haim said. “But what about the law? What about him?”
“We’ll tell people what happened,” Clod said. “They can decide.”
“No one will believe you freaks,” Yugen snapped. He then whispered so only Clod could hear. "I will have my revenge, and it will cost you everything."
Clod drew his fist once more, making Yugen step away.
“You’re better than that,” he sneered. “Remember, Clod?”
“I’m not,” Ada said, leaning into her swing. Her fist landed square on Yugen’s nose.
Yugen collapsed to his back, blood pouring from both nostrils as he blinked at the ceiling in shock. They all stared at the young woman in surprise. She winked at Clod.
“Let’s go home,” Ada said. “We have a kitten to train.”
Age 24
“Achoo,” Ada sneezed, wiping her nose with the back of her wrist. She followed up with a loud snuffle. “Ugh.”
“Uh-oh,” Clod said, his head whipping about. He wiped clay-coated hands on his apron, cleaning as much of the slick mud off as he could. “Are you okay?”
“I don’ feel so good,” she said, the words muffled by congestion.
“That…that’s just,” Clod said, unable to hold back a smile, “that’s wonderful.”
“I feel awful,” Ada bemoaned. “How is dat wuderful?” She sniffed deeply.
“It means you’re more human than ever,” he said, approaching Ada hesitantly.
“I’b not sure I wad do be human if it means feeling like dis,” she said.
Clod placed the back of his hand on her cheek. Well, more like two fingers—his hand was enormous next to her head. “You’re warm. I’d say you’re definitely sick.”
“Dank you, doctor,” she said, rolling her eyes. Ada pulled a shaggy, hole-ridden blanket from the chair and proceeded to cocoon herself in it.
“What’s this?” Clod asked, kneeling beside the chair.
“I’b still working on id,” Ada said. “Id’s not as good as yours, but I’b learning.”
The clay form was no more than a foot tall. It was definitely a person, but Clod winced at the proportions. The sculpture looked familiar, with its large, slumped shoulders, heavy cheeks, and protruding forehead. It looked overlarge, fat even, and still blocky in the way Ada had been when he’d first made her. He wanted to find something nice to say about it, but was repulsed by the thing’s shape. How could something Ada make bother him so much? He knelt closer and felt a surge of anger.
“Is that…” he said, “Is that supposed to be me?”
“Sord of,” she said in a tiny voice. “You’re always saying how ugly you are. I wanted to show you that you’re beaudiful.”
“No,” he said, raising a fist to crush the abomination. “The only thing beautiful about me is you.”
She moved surprisingly fast for a sick woman made of clay. Before he could smash it, she was hovering over her creation and glaring at him defiantly.
“Move,” he roared, his fist shaking. “I never want to see that again. It’s awful.”
“Id is not! Id’s the face I see every dime you wake be, Clod,” she said, her pale cheeks reddening. “Id’s by favorite face. I love your face.”
She began sobbing, which brought on a fit of coughing. When his mum walked into the cabin, Ada was leaning over mini-Clod, coughing violently between sobs. Clod was still standing over her, shaking with anger and his fist raised high.
“What is going on?” Eidy shouted, each word sharp as a knife only a mother can wield.
“Mum,” Clod said, pulling back his arm and reeling in his senses. “I…uh…Mum,
Ada is sick.”
“I can see that,” she said, kneeling by the girl. “So, what were you going to do, hit it out of her?”
“Noooo,” he said, his heart drowning in shame. “Look at what she made.” He pointed at the statue accusingly.
“I see, it’s a little Clod,” she said. “It’s lovely, Ada. You sculpt like I do.”
“You sculpt?” Clod asked, dumbfounded.
“I used to,” she said. “By the elders, Clod, why would you destroy her creation?”
“It’s ugly,” he said. “Like me.”
“The only thing ugly in this home was that fist, and I don’t ever want to see it again,” she said, glaring at him. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mum,” he said. “I’m sorry, Ada.”
She merely nodded, and he picked her up gently, setting her down in the chair and wrapping her in the shoddy blanket.
“I really am sorry,” he said, kneeling beside the chair. “It was very thoughtful.”
“How are you feeling, Clod?” his mother asked.
“I’m fine,” he said, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Ada is the one who’s sick.”
Ada brushed away tears with the blanket and looked at Clod with worried eyes. “Why are you sweating?”
“It’s warm in here. I’ve been working on that sculpture for Radenbrook,” he said. They both looked at him like he was covered in boils. He was used to those types of glances from people in town, but not from his mum or Ada. “What? I’m fine. Just a little tired.”
“I think it’s more than that,” she said. “Please wash up and go lie down, Clod.”
“But I’m fine, we should be taking care of Ada,” he said, wondering if maybe his mum was sick too. “Why are you telling me to go rest?”
“Ada is a part of you,” Eidy said. “You know this. If she becomes sick, it’s a reflection of something affecting you.”
“Oh,” he said. “But I’ve got to finish the sculpture.”
“There’s plenty of time,” Ada said with a sniff. “I’m feeling better than you look, really.”
“I’m going to get the healer from town,” Eidy said.
Angst Box Set 2 Page 87
