Rose Coffin

by M. P. Kozlowsky

  With a sly grin, she looked at each of them and shook the blood and sand out of her hair. “Guys,” she said, “this is going to be fun—and a little bit brutal.”

  And as if on cue, the monsters attacked.

  Screaming, they charged out from behind Meadowrue—a wave of white. Their surge was almost blinding, and as they descended upon the group, Rose noticed they were all different shapes and sizes. Some walked on four legs, some on two. Some looked eerily human and some like animals—outlines of them, filling the spaces of such things. But within, they all displayed deep pockets of darkness every time they shrieked or bled or gazed hungrily at their prey.

  The dragons had already swooped down and begun to pick at Meadowrue’s first kill, to which she quickly added a few more. She fought with a flat, stoic face, her mouth nothing but a line, as she hacked away. Beside her, Coram was just the opposite. Graceful, with no wasted movements. When he attacked, he hit, never missing. Eo, however, was obviously trapped deep in his head. He picked his spots carefully, and they were usually dodged or deflected. He was hesitant in his every move and was more on the defensive than anything else. When he saw an opening, he took it, but mostly he seemed to be protecting his father, who clearly needed no such thing. Deedubs was as ferocious as they came, more deadly than anything Rose could ever imagine. His ear was perked up, his tongue hanging far outside his mouth as if tasting the breeze for where to move next. It was quite clear his entire life had been spent in battle.

  While Coram and Meadowrue had swords and the two Cobberjacks their teeth and claws, Ridge fought primarily with his fists. But what big fists they were. He swung them like anvils, crushing whatever was in his path. And if Ridge didn’t get his target with his fists, his thicker branches were used like extra arms, clubbing them left and right.

  As if a siren had blared, more and more dragons arrived, landing among the pillars. They weren’t like the monstrous dragons Rose had always read about and imagined. These were far smaller, like the size of crocodiles, but they were as ferocious as anything she had ever seen. They were fighting over the dead, their mouths covered in the black of the satellites. Streams of fire were sprayed to keep the others from what they claimed as their own, but these blasts were erratic, often drifting out into the battle, and Rose gasped when she saw a branch of Ridge’s go up in flames. She skittered down the tree and foolishly attempted to blow the fire out. What are you doing? she lambasted herself. You can’t even get all your birthday candles in one shot.

  Changing course, she reached out and, before the fire could spread, snapped the branch off, tossing it to the ground, where the flames quickly expired in the sand. A self-satisfied smile broke out across her face until a satellite sprung into the branches. She screamed and kicked her feet at it and, hearing her, Ridge reached up, grabbed hold of a leg, and swung the creature like a discus. Flying through the air, it crashed into a pillar and Rose watched as the stone structure began to wobble just beside Coram, who was fighting off two more satellites in its shadow. It’s going to go over, she thought. “Coram!” He looked up just in time to see it falling, and dived out of the way. It landed with a thud right atop the two satellites, crushing the life out of them. The Stylite who had been sitting atop it went tumbling.

  More and more, the satellites were coming for Ridge and Rose. They kept leaping into the tree, and Rose would cower and kick to keep them off. Ridge, however, was clearly growing weary from the relentless attacks.

  Two creatures leapt for him at once and were able to knock him to the ground as if they had taken an ax to his trunk. He crashed hard, and Rose tumbled from his branches, hitting her head against a pillar. She lay on the ground, dazed, and the two creatures, ignoring the vulnerable Ridge, glared at her instead. Their mouths opened wide, and then they charged.

  In a desperate effort, Ridge managed to reach out, grabbing one by the leg and pulling it in so that his branches could finish it off. But Rose saw her death in the other’s eyes. She saw it so clearly. And it made her think how much she had wasted. How she let life feed off her instead of feeding off it.

  You’re not ready to die, Rose. You’re not.

  As the creature leapt for her, its dark mouth open, she turned her head and held up her hands, her voice releasing a sharp scream.

  It was all a reflex, a defensive act. But as she did so, she felt something course through her body. Something strange but very powerful, as if her voice were taking a physical shape within her. She felt like she was on fire, and there was a crackling throughout her body that converged in her hands. Opening her eyes, she watched in shock as, in midair, the creature exploded, black sludge flying everywhere.

  Rose crumbled backward, her mouth hanging wide open. “I … I …”

  In the dust of the battle, the group stared at one another, sharing her disbelief.

  What was that? What was that? Rose, what is happening to you?

  From above, the Stylite once again made his statement, one that rang out like a bell. “She is not what you think.”

  What just happened?” Rose asked, her voice twisted up inside her like barbwire. “What did I just do?”

  “We were going to ask you the same thing,” Meadowrue said, cleaning her swords against her pants.

  Although her skin slowly recovered from paling completely white, Rose’s chest continued to heave and her hands continued to tremble. Sitting on the ground, unable to move, she dazedly took in all the carnage around her—the dragons feasting on the satellites, the fallen and cracked pillars, the toppled and distraught Stylite. But most of all she focused on the dark splatter that was the creature who had leapt for her. She had done that, and she alone.

  “I don’t know what I did,” she cried. “I … I just didn’t want to die. That thing was coming for me and I wanted it gone. That’s all. I didn’t mean to do that. Honest.”

  “It was magic,” Coram said, his voice hushed in awe. “The kind that doesn’t exist in Eppersett.” His breaths were deeper now, as if he were trying to completely empty his lungs. “Human magic … it does something to us, to our insides, that no other magic can replicate. Our world has no resistance to it. There’s no defending such power.”

  Off to the side, Deedubs grunted and turned away. “Human magic. Hmmpf.”

  “You know what this means,” Coram insisted. “You all do. You heard the Stylite.”

  Everyone was staring at Rose in a mixture of awe and deep curiosity. She shriveled up beneath their gaze, feeling as exposed as she had ever been. “It wasn’t magic,” she squeaked.

  “Then what was it?” Meadowrue asked.

  Rose hesitated. Her mouth opened and closed but nothing came out. Finally, as her face reddened more and more, her arms raised in exasperation. “Spontaneous combustion? Maybe?”

  Everyone waved her off.

  “When you screamed,” Coram said, “something came from your hands.”

  “Humans don’t have magic,” she said.

  “You’re right,” Deedubs said. “So then, how do you explain it?”

  “I … I can’t.”

  The group devolved into bickering, the meditating Stylites and the feasting dragons paying them no mind and vice versa. Above, the sun was in its descent, casting the sky in a superb mixture of reds and yellows. The winds increased, blowing sand all over, the temperature dropping rapidly.

  “Um, maybe she’s something even more special and stuft,” Eo said.

  “More special than the sacrifice?” Deedubs said in disgust to his son.

  “I don’t know, Pa. You know the stories …”

  “Get that foolishness out of your head! She’s just a girl, far from home. The perfect sacrifice. The Abomination will feed once again, and we’ll have peace until it awakens once more. Then we’ll do it all over again.”

  With his head lowered, Eo said, “It called her Unwonted. What’s that mean?”

  “It means she’s unusual,” Coram said, his voice distant.

  Ridge pointed a
t Rose, shouting, “That’s right! It said she isn’t what we think she is!”

  “So it’s true, then,” Meadowrue said.

  Rose always hated when other people spoke about her when she was sitting right there, near but so far. “What’s true?”

  Coram exhaled and addressed the group, but mostly he kept his eyes on Rose. “Every so often a human enters our world. Sometimes they help us fight our enemies, displaying amazing abilities and hidden strengths, and sometimes they are weaklings and cowards and are sacrificed to the Abomination or some other monster. But every now and then, one human comes along that is not like the others. These humans are said to exist between worlds. At least their souls do. They may have been physically born in another place, but their souls have two homes. Having been torn apart, these humans don’t feel whole anymore. They are constantly searching, trying to find themselves. They have the magic of Eppersett within them. And this turns them into something truly special indeed. It gives them a magic that is more powerful than anything we have here, a magic of two worlds. And it is in you, Rose Coffin.”

  Rose felt queasy. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that you can defeat the Abomination. Not for ten years, but for good. You’re not just a sacrifice anymore. You’re the one we’ve been waiting for. The one we thought would never come.”

  “So …” Rose was all too aware of how the focus on her had changed. Everyone’s eyes widened; it was like they were hypnotized by her, and the feeling made her skin scrawl. To be ignored was painful, but to be singled out was unbearable. She could hardly bring her words forward. “So, I’m … I’m not going to be sacrificed, then?”

  “Of course you’re going to be sacrificed!” Ridge said. “The legend clearly states that the Abomination will sense your magic, if it has not already done so! But before it feasts on you, it must be primed for death!”

  “The three fabled weapons,” Meadowrue said, practically giddy.

  “Only three weapons in all the world can make the Abomination susceptible to Rose’s attack, and all three must be used in unison,” Coram explained. “The spiked armor of Syedel. The sword of Tarr. And the arrows of Millenten. Each lies with their fallen master. Together, they will make the Abomination vulnerable to Rose’s magic. Only then can she finish this.”

  “Yes!” Ridge cried, clearly excited by the legend. He lifted Rose up with his branches and brought her before his eyes. “When the Abomination’s great maw opens in agony from the three weapons, you must enter of your own accord! Then, and only then, in the belly of the beast, you will explode in the most incredible display of magic anyone will ever witness! Oh, I can’t wait!”

  Rose went limp with dread and was placed back atop Ridge. Below, everyone talked over one another in electrified tones. Rose, however, was busy replaying one specific aspect of the legend over and over in her head.

  “Are we sure?” Meadowrue said. “This will really end it? The Abomination will never return?”

  “Never!” Coram insisted, his hands in fists.

  “Then we must set out at once!” Ridge declared.

  From up in the tree, they heard a sound. A sound that confused them all. Rose, head bowed, hair in her face, was laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” Coram asked, eyebrows raised.

  Everyone glanced back and forth at one another. Rose couldn’t stop laughing. It just tumbled out of her; she had no control over it. It grew louder and louder and louder. And though everyone stared at her like she was crazy, she didn’t care. It felt good. It actually felt good.

  “What’s so funny?” Coram asked again, clearly irritated.

  She gazed down at them, their mouths all agape—only Eo had a grin, as if he understood exactly how she felt. How could they not see the irony of it all? Finally, Rose calmed down enough to say, “The legend said I have to be willing to do this. Willing! You need me to work with you. You need me to sacrifice myself and use this power.”

  “Yes, and … ?” Coram didn’t see the issue.

  Rose shook her head in disbelief. “There’s no way that’s happening, you dolt! You’ve been marching me along to my death since I got here. Nobody’s cared about what I’ve had to say about any of it, how I feel, what I might be thinking. We were going to get there and you were just going to throw me at this monster and now you expect me to help you? Out of the kindness of my heart or something? No way. Forget it.”

  They all looked at one another, the reality sinking in. Rose could see their bodies deflate, their eyes go dark.

  Coram said, “Rose, the greater good …”

  “N-O.”

  “But … without you …”

  “Oh, well.”

  Without saying a word, Deedubs padded behind a pillar. What started as a low growl became a ground-rattling roar of frustration that could be heard for miles, even sending several of the dragons to the sky in retreat.

  When he returned, Deedubs, full of bitterness and through gritted teeth, said, “This opportunity may not come again for centuries. We have to take her to the queen. She’ll know what to do.”

  “Yes,” Coram said, nodding. “If anyone can convince Rose of what must be done, it will be her. She has never been denied.”

  There’s always a first time, Rose thought. Still, she was confused and weak with fear. Something weird was going on with her body. It was cracking her open from within. And now, on top of that, there was all this talk of legends and special weapons.

  “You’re stronger than you think,” Coram said. “Stronger than we all thought.”

  Rose looked up. “Yeah, well, not enough to get me out of this mess.”

  Minutes later, they were headed east from the pillars in search of the queen. Momentary relief had washed over Rose as her feeding to the Abomination was put on hold. For now she had the upper hand. But something told her that wasn’t going to last for very long.

  The desert was now well behind them, and although the wind still blew, at least it wasn’t carrying sand. As they trudged through the dusk, they pulled their coats tight around them.

  Coram paused, scanning the horizon. It still seemed like they had a long way to go. “It’s getting late,” he said, the wind blowing his hair in his face. “Let’s set up camp.”

  As the others began preparing the fire and provisions, Coram jumped into the branches with Rose, easily pulling himself up bough by bough until he was sitting beside her. Rose shifted as far away as she could, but any more and the branch would probably snap.

  She wanted to push him off—maybe he’d land on his sword or something, break a leg. Maybe she could conjure some of that magic from before, or whatever it was, if it was even anything at all. But she thought better of this and decided to just bide her time instead. When they all slept, she’d be gone.

  “Everything is at stake for us,” Coram said, his legs dangling but still—Rose, on the other hand, couldn’t keep hers from swaying. From a distance, they probably looked like two ordinary kids sitting on the bough of a tree.

  Coram sighed an especially long sigh. “We’ve been fighting this battle for so long nobody can remember a time before the Abomination. Eppersett used to be so much bigger then, but every time it reappears, we keep losing land that will never come back. Much of the territory south of the Zo River has become a wasteland. During the years of its slumber, we try to heal the land, we try to grow crops and repopulate it, but nothing ever takes. It’s a disease, one that can’t be healed. There have always been great dangers in Eppersett—no one has ever known it to be any different—but there’s never been anything like this.”

  Rose had had enough. Still looking off, she said, “So, there’s always been monsters, is that it? Not just the Abomination, but hundreds in between. So even once it’s gone, something else will take its place. And then something after that, and after that. We die and for what? When does it end?”

  Coram glanced down below them. “I don’t know.”

  Rose’s voice picked up s
team, the words rattling off her tongue in a melodic barrage. “Where I come from, there aren’t any monsters or abominations, not like the kind here anyway, but our horrors keep coming too. One thing after another. Sometimes … sometimes it just becomes too much. It takes everything from you. Everything. Any happiness you might have. Even the slightest bit; it’s just snatched away, over and over again, until you’re … blank. Empty. I never thought—”

  Rose felt a crackling throughout her body, similar to when she was attacked among the Stylites. Her hands buzzed as if pricked with a thousand needles. The heat inside her intensified. She closed her mouth, swallowing the words that had gathered in her throat.

  Coram nodded. “I’ve never fit in well here, Rose. I guess … maybe … It sounds like I’m a lot like you, believe it or not.”

  Rose rolled her eyes.

  “My whole kind is—all eleven of us. Though there could be less by now—I haven’t seen one in years, and the way we’re hunted I don’t know if I ever will. It’s hard for me to see the beauty in the world that everyone else sees, though I know they see it. When the dangers are gone—that brief moment of time before the next one arrives—I see the joy. I see the peace and love in Eppersett, the bonds among the people. But I always feel the same. I want their joy. I want that life. But even though it never comes, I still fight. For them. For happiness. For love. We all do. I just … I just hope to one day … maybe …” He trailed off. “Do you understand?”

  Rose finally turned and looked at him, if only for a second before her eyes dropped. She did understand. There has always been a yearning for happiness in her that had never been fulfilled either. “You can run,” Rose said, her voice floating like a bubble. “You can find a place that isn’t like this. A place where you belong.”