Awaken

by Tanya Schofield

  Jovan didn’t even look as he pulled Melody’s head into his lap. “Beacon fire. Unlit. Melody? Melody, wake up.”

  Kaeliph set the torches in the brackets. He turned his attention to a small iron stove in the corner. Beside it was a meager supply of half-rotten wood, but he thought it might be enough to make it through the night.

  Melody was still unconscious after Kaeliph had gotten the fire started in the small iron stove. Jovan focused solely on her, calling her name, his face a scowl of concern.

  Melody heard Jovan’s voice only as rumblings and murmurs. It was as if she were under water, being pulled from below and blocked above by something ... triumphant. It was the tunnel under the Inn all over again, only magnified. Something was desperately wrong on this island, she knew, and they were all in terrible danger. She fought closer to the surface, closer to Jovan’s insistent murmurs. She had to tell them.

  “Melody? Come back, wake up. Melody …” Jovan felt her. He could not explain it, but he was in her thoughts – and she was in his. It had been that way since she saved him in the tunnels. He didn’t understand it, but he knew he didn’t want to surrender it, or her. As he felt her struggling to return, he reached for her, bracing himself in that shared place between them.

  Wake up.

  His voice in her thoughts was so unexpected, it broke through whatever clutching thickness had been holding her. Melody slammed back into consciousness with a gasp, bolting upright as if from a nightmare.

  We are in danger! We have to leave this place.

  Jovan put a gentle hand on her shoulder, staying her as she tried to scramble to her feet. “We know,” he said, “but there’s nowhere to go. And you’re in no condition to travel.”

  Kaeliph handed her a steaming metal cup. “It’s tea,” he explained. “Sort of. There was a kettle on the stove. I recognized some of the herbs in your pouch.”

  Melody sipped, identifying the willow bark adding bitterness to the lemongrass and mint. Yes, this was good. This would work against the strange fever and help center her.

  Thank you. She took a deep breath, but the feeling of danger would not pass. There could be no protective circles in this place; it was too steeped in the powers she would want to keep out. Dizziness pushed at her, relentless, but the combination of the tea and her own fear kept her wide awake. The rain continued to hammer down, and occasional flashes of lightning lit up the windows. They waited, not knowing for what.

  Then it came – the rough scraping of something heavy from the floor below.

  “The table.” Kaeliph’s voice was a whisper, but Jovan held up a hand for silence. When the sound stopped, he slid noiselessly to his feet and drew his weapon, motioning the others to stay put. Kaeliph readied his own weapon as well. They strained to hear anything over the sounds of their own heartbeats.

  Melody gasped aloud when the trap door shuddered under an assault from the other side, and her fear shot through both of her companions.

  Kaeliph leapt to his feet, looking to his brother for direction.

  Jovan scanned the room. The trap door shook rhythmically under the pounding from the other side. There was no furniture, nothing solid enough to hold the heavy wood down if the deadbolt were to fail. There was nowhere to go but up.

  “You. Back there. Now.” With one hand Jovan lifted Melody to her feet and pushed her towards the rear of the circular room, back to the area that would be hidden from sight if the trap door were raised.

  Melody went, jumping as another thud from below rattled the iron latch.

  Jovan motioned his brother to the side of the trap door and took position at the front. “If it gets bad here, Melody, go up. Understand?”

  Yes.

  The sound of splintering wood froze them all in place. The latch had held, but the door itself was no match for whatever was on the other side. One more hit would do it.

  “You be right behind her,” Jovan told his younger brother.

  Kaeliph nodded, and Melody noticed that he was smiling – a brilliant, eager grin, as if this was the grandest adventure yet. They braced for the inevitable.

  When it happened, it happened quickly. Time was courteous, however, and slowed to a crawl for them – the wooden door shattered around the iron latch in slow motion, splinters flying even as the door itself floated upwards.

  Melody had plenty of time to duck against the back wall, the door bursting into pieces as it hit stone. Jagged slivers of the wood embedded themselves into her back. She turned, needing to see.

  The smell was revolting, but it was not the rising stench that dropped the bottom out of her stomach and made her breathless with fear. There were men – no, not quite men – shambling up the stairs. Jovan’s fleeting thought echoed in Melody's mind: they’re already dead.

  Together, Jovan and Kaeliph used what little advantage they had, stabbing and cutting at anything that came through the opening. It was soon obvious that the once-men were indeed dead – nothing the brothers did seemed to wound them at all. A few well-placed kicks sent the first in line crashing into his comrades, and they all tumbled back down the stairs with muffled grunts.

  Jovan watched, disbelieving, as they simply stood up and kept coming. They were not slowed at all, and this time they were led by something ... different.

  “Melody," he snapped. "Up. Now.”

  Melody moved. Her feet caught in the hem of her dress as she bolted, and for a sickening moment she thought she would tumble off the stairs and into whatever had made Jovan go pale. She wrenched herself to one side, however, and leaned against the curved wall to catch her balance. She looked down, and wished she hadn’t.

  Whatever it was, it was not as human as it looked. It’s speed and agility were completely unlike the shuffling creatures that had pounded through the trap door and fallen back down the stairs. This new thing was dodging almost every swing, and seemed unaffected by those blows that did connect. It did not bleed. When it reached out for Jovan, Melody saw long, thick claws. She headed up the stairs.

  The second trap door was swollen from the rain and did not budge when she pushed. She set her feet and threw her shoulder into it, but it would not move. Frightened and increasingly desperate, Melody let out an audible yelp of frustration as she shoved at the door again. It was a mistake.

  The creature below immediately looked up at her – only it had no eyes, just dim red lights burning where eyes should be. It grabbed Jovan with one hand, tossing him aside as if the huge man weighed nothing at all, intent on only her. Melody saw Jovan’s blood spray up and out in perfect clarity, drop by drop. Her own uninjured shoulder screamed in sympathy, and she blinked back hot tears.

  “Go!” Jovan’s shout was as desperate as she felt.

  Kaeliph obeyed, leaping up the stairs behind Melody.

  Jovan tried to regain the thing’s attention, throwing a chunk of firewood that bounced off its back. It didn’t pause. It wanted Melody— wanted her as it had when they first arrived on the island, when it circled their camp, when it stole her consciousness. It wanted her with the dull, powerful anger of a force denied.

  Melody’s back was against the door as she pushed upwards with all the strength in her legs, pushing hard, pushing until her knees ached and popped with the effort. Nothing happened until Kaeliph’s momentum carried him into the stubborn door alongside her. The swollen wood surrendered with a squeal and Kaeliph pulled her up and out into the storm.

  Melody landed heavily, and her teeth bit sharply into her tongue with a bright taste of blood. Kaeliph skidded beside her on the rain-slick wood and turned back to slam the door. Time again seemed to slow, showing her every detail.

  An arm reached through the trap door, with a head and shoulder not far behind. Claws – shining black with Jovan’s blood – clamped down on Melody’s leg, sinking into the meat of her calf with a hot, sickening pain. She screamed and kicked, but the creature would not let go. Instead it pulled, dragging Melody closer to those terrifying red not-eyes and a mouth full o
f teeth.

  Kaeliph, still reeling from her scream, sprang into action.

  He landed on the trap door with the full weight of his body, slamming the thick wood down onto the single visible arm. The claws tightened on Melody’s leg and her flesh tore as the creature’s limb shattered and jerked free. The howl of the wind was suddenly drowned out by their combined shrieking.

  Melody’s pain and fear ripped at Jovan, he felt it not just through her cry, but in his entire body. He forced himself to his feet, eyes only for the dead men crowding the stairs behind the creature so intent on reaching Melody. The pain in his sword arm was intense. Too intense, he realized. There was no way he could fight with it. He switched hands.

  Even left-handed, Jovan had little trouble separating the dead men from their heads. Their focus was singular – they wanted up. Not one turned to face him as he took aim and chopped at them, one by one. He kicked the bodies off the stairs on his way up to the creature. One arm hung limply at its side, Jovan noticed, but the injury seemed not to matter when it bashed at the trap door with its good fist. The heavy wooden door flew open just as Jovan kicked the last of the dead men to the side.

  Kaeliph was thrown clear when the trap door flew open underneath him, his weight doing nothing to stop the creature from flinging it open.

  Jovan watched in horror as the thing paused in the doorframe, illuminated by a burst of lightning. Wind-whipped rain sprayed his face when it stepped forward, and Melody’s panic surged through him like a riptide. He tightened his grip on his sword and charged up the final few steps.

  The top stair was slick with rainwater, and Jovan’s boots suddenly found no traction, sending him sprawling. He grunted breathlessly as his wounded shoulder screamed in protest. His sword flew out of his left hand, skittering dangerously close to the edge of the lighthouse platform. He crawled after it, twisting to look for Melody— and saw he wouldn’t make it to her in time.

  Melody had never been so scared. This primal, impossible thing with the dim red eye-lights was consumed with fury. It wanted her, and it would not be denied. She could feel its hatred, its rage – all focused on her. It was the same energy she’d felt in the tunnels under the Inn, the heavy, clutching energy that had enveloped her consciousness earlier. She scrambled backwards with her leg screaming in protest, but still the thing came, and there was nowhere to go.

  With a shout, Kaeliph threw himself over the open trap door, into the wind, and onto the thing’s back. He latched on and pulled sideways. This time the slick wood of the lighthouse floor worked to his favor. Kaeliph’s momentum spun it off balance and its feet tangled, lurching it towards the central brazier. At the last second Kaeliph let go, tucked his head in, and kicked free.

  Lightning flashed as the creature fell backwards, the dim red eye-lights somehow both surprised and displeased as its skull connected heavily with the edge of the brazier.

  “Kaeliph!” Jovan slid his sword towards his brother.

  Before the creature could haul itself upright again, Kaeliph took up the weapon and swung it, two-handed, with all the strength he had. A resounding crash of thunder drowned out the solid knock of the creature’s head, sliced free of its body, against the rain-drenched wood.

  It was over.

  Several long minutes passed in complete silence as they waited to be certain, the sounds of the storm steadily diminishing. The wind had lost its desperate shriek, and the thunder was reduced to empty threats. Kaeliph lowered his brother’s sword and looked back at Jovan with a grin Melody would forever associate with him – wide, adventurous, and thoroughly beautiful.

  “Not bad for a fisherman, I’d say.” Kaeliph picked some wet, windblown leaves from his clothes as he returned the weapon to his winded older sibling.

  Jovan had gone to Melody as soon as he found his feet. He kicked away the headless body of the thing which had come so close to killing her, and awkwardly sheathed the sword.

  “Are you all right?” Jovan offered her his left hand, which she took without looking at him.

  Splinters sent a thousand tiny needles of pain up her arms as he pulled her up, and she could feel little rivers of blood creeping from the wood in her back. The moment Melody put weight on her wounded leg, her vision blurred with pain, and she nearly fell back down.

  No. She had to lean on Jovan, shaking and breathless.

  “I’ve got you,” he said. He supported her slight weight, no longer surprised that he had felt her pain.

  Kaeliph slipped Melody’s other arm around his shoulders and the two brothers eased her down the rain-slick stairs to the ruined second room. It was still warm, and stank of decay. Disgusted, Melody helped them throw the remaining pieces of the dead men down the stairs. The trap door was beyond repair, but the sense of dread and danger had, for the moment, passed.

  Melody struggled to understand. That thing had wanted her. It cared nothing for Jovan or Kaeliph, just her. It had been consumed with hatred for her, it wanted her dead - and she didn’t even know what it was. She was certain these new memories would haunt her sleep, at home alongside the memory of her slaughtered family and friends. So much violence, all because of her. Her stomach ached.

  “All right, you two. Let me see how much work I’ve got to do.” Kaeliph produced a needle and thread from his pack. Jovan obligingly skinned out of his shirt and he knelt beside Melody.

  Work? She asked.

  Kaeliph examined his brother’s wounds with a practiced eye. “Someone has to stitch you two up,” he told her.

  “Tend to Melody, brother, I’m fine.”

  Kaeliph, staring at Jovan’s shoulder, replied in sync with Melody. “Liar.”

  Liar.

  Kaeliph frowned, putting down the needle. Thick green pus and dark blood oozed from the deep cuts, but the edges were ... Frayed. Disintegrated. There was nothing to stitch. “What do we have for bandages?”

  Here. Melody tore several long strips from the hem of her dress with aching fingers.

  “Better get some more of those for your leg.” Kaeliph wrapped his brother’s shoulder as tightly as he could. Jovan endured, but the pain refused to be ignored – and the effort was exhausting.

  “Thanks, kid.”

  Kaeliph’s cheeks colored. “You should lie down. Nothing else is going to happen tonight.” For once, Jovan didn’t argue. Kaeliph turned to Melody.

  Would you—? Melody held her bloody hands out to Kaeliph, where she had been trying to pry out the splinters with her teeth.

  “Of course.” She had gotten most of them, but Kaeliph had to use his knife on some of the deeper shards. He wrapped Melody’s bloody palms with strips from her shrinking dress and moved on to the larger splinters in her back. Prying them out took little time.

  “All right,” he said softly. “Let me see the leg.” Kaeliph was not surprised to see that her wound looked exactly like Jovan’s. There was nothing to stitch, and no way that he could see to ease the obvious pain she was in. He sighed.

  “I— I’ve never seen anything like this, Melody. All I can do is just wrap it up and ... hope.” He bound her calf and motioned for her to lie down beside his brother. “Rest,” he said.

  Thank you. Melody was asleep almost before her head came to rest on Jovan’s good arm.

  Kaeliph covered the two of them with Jovan’s cloak, put more wood into the stove, and spent a long time looking at the flames. Jovan could say what he wanted about mother and her stories, but after tonight ... How could he doubt that this place was haunted, that it had something to do with the … with Him?

  What else had his mother had been right about?

  15

  “It will be as you require, Lord Garen.”

  Sedrik Ving had not come to be Earl of Foley without friends in higher places, and he believed in loyalty. The Chancellor’s support had been subtle – as right hand to Duke Korith, he couldn’t officially influence politics in Duke Derbin’s lands. But with a donation here and a few bribes there … Well, Ving hadn’t for
gotten.

  So if the Chancellor wanted an unsanctioned gladiatorial tournament here in Foley, if he wanted to offer an absurd amount of gold as a prize, and if he wanted it to take place as soon as possible, then Sedrik Ving would see it done. He would smooth things over with Derbin when – no, if – the Midlands Duke noticed.

  Ving doubted the success of the Chancellor’s venture, though. The fights hadn’t brought in as much business this past year – Korith’s supporters were everywhere, protesting the violence and the gambling. Healers – magic or otherwise – were in short enough supply before Korith’s display in Paltos, but now? There were none. And what fighter would risk major injury without so much as a washerwoman to tend the wound?

  “I fear the Arena has seen little use of late,” the Earl commented.

  Garen stood by Ving’s desk, looking out over the location he had chosen, and nodded to himself. While not the most ideal town for his purpose, Foley would do. Even if the three he sought had passed by already, they would not get far on what the Cabinsport innkeeper had said he’d paid them. The fortune to be made here – and the fighter's inevitable ego – would lure them back. Out here, far from His Lordship, Garen could proceed unhindered.

  “My men and I will oversee the arrangements,” he told the Earl. "Send the runners immediately."

  Duke Korith was a fool, Garen thought. Kill the girl, indeed. She was completely untrained. Unimaginable power lay within her, just waiting to be shaped and directed by someone with vision. Garen was that visionary. With her beside him, with her power in his hands, he would shed the title of Chancellor and become the leader he was meant to be.

  “Right away, Lord Garen. Will you stay here in the keep?”

  “Mmm.” Garen’s thoughts were on the distant tournament. Foley’s arena needed work. The Inn would need expanding, of course – more than just his prey would be drawn to the substantial prize. With more fighters came more trouble, so local militia would need a total overhaul.