The Girl with the Scar (Dark Connection Saga Book 1)

by Stadler, William

  Wolf did not return her panic with his usual chuckle. “The Raiders will show your brother no pity as they tear through his innards with their dark arts.” Wolf’s powerful voice vibrated Eva’s core. “Now what did you see!”

  “Nothing,” she replied meekly. “I saw nothing.”

  “Your fear is blinding you. Look again!”

  Eva squeezed her eyes shut and slung them open. Again she saw nothing, only vivid splotches of color that seemed to be sliding over her eyeballs. “I can’t see anything.”

  Wolf grunted and ripped his tomahawk from his side. In one motion, he slung the axe at Eva’s head.

  Eva shrieked. The tomahawk spiraled towards her, end over end. The crimson tassel on its handle rotated with the haft, headed for her skull. Before her eyes, blue specks, resembling sparks, skidded off the blade. The sparks drifted listlessly away from the axe after each rotation, disappearing as they skidded off the blade edge.

  Eva leaned her head to the side, and her hair slipped off her shoulder. She held this position for longer than it should have taken the blade to pass her. Cutting her eyes back to the sparks, the axe was still barreling towards her, suspended in time.

  Confused, she stepped to the side of the blade, reached out and grabbed its handle. It was warm from where Wolf had grabbed it. She examined the axe, turning it to either side in her hand. Panicked, she dropped it and jerked her hands up to her chest.

  The tomahawk thudded onto the ground. Eva could see the blue specks fading away. She stepped back and raised her head up. “What…what just happened?”

  Wolf trudged over and picked up his tomahawk, wiping the cheek of the axe on the side of his furry leggings. “Precision Empyrean,” he said plainly, as if Eva should have understood.

  “You almost killed me!” Eva screamed.

  “I wouldn’t have expected that from her,” Stasis replied, ignoring Eva.

  Eva crossed her arms again and tucked her hands into her sides. Her eyes shifted without looking at either of them. “What is Precision Empyrean?”

  “The deadliest kind,” Stasis said.

  Wolf shook his head and scratched his chin. “This doesn’t make sense to me.”

  “To you?” Eva gasped. “What about me?”

  “You threw the tomahawk at my head,” Wolf said, “…but you missed.”

  Stasis set her hand on Eva’s head and pulled up Eva’s eyelids to examine her pupils. “Something’s blocking the Empyrean. What do you think it is?”

  Wolf scratched his head. “It could be a number of things. Sickness, fear, Anti-Empyrean, who knows?”

  “Maybe it’s just that she has been unable to access it,” Stasis said.

  “I wouldn’t—”

  “What is Precision Empyrean?” Eva interrupted.

  Wolf smiled that gentle grin, the one that had come to make Eva feel his compassion. “It means that your senses are keen.”

  “Or they should be…” Stasis replied.

  CHAPTER 12

  THE LUCIDITY

  A soothing warmth covered Eva’s body. She tried to open her eyes, but the light was too intense. An awful ringing in her ears made her head throb, though she could hear a roaring flame to her right.

  Her joints were stiff, and she kept her eyes closed, breathing smoothly. At the foot of her bed, she could hear Stasis and Wolf talking softly, so Eva remained still, listening.

  “Should we take her to a physician?” Stasis asked. “It’s been nearly three days since the seizure.”

  Three days? Eva asked herself. The seizures are getting worse.

  “Let’s give her some more time. Besides, what’s a physician going to do that we haven’t?” Wolf asked.

  “She needs to eat.”

  “Aye.” Wolf paused for a moment. “Perhaps a day more.”

  “What’s troubling you, Jevar?” Stasis asked.

  Jevar? When did Stasis ever call him that?

  He cleared his throat. The metal on his belt jingled. “We can’t take her to the physician.”

  Eva stopped breathing. She could have sat up to interrupt them, but she had to know. Would the man she trusted betray her? Please don’t tell her, Jevar.

  “Why not?” Stasis asked.

  Eva waited. The sound of the fire crackled in the silence. What are you going to decide, Jevar?

  Wolf let out a deep exhausted breath. “She’s the one the Raiders have been looking for.”

  There it was, the fatal blow. Eva felt a cold chill in her bones. She wasn’t safe here — not with him and not with Stasis. She had to leave. Her heart commenced to beating, and she dragged in a few breaths. Who else had he told? Who would Stasis tell?

  Eva had done the impossible by escaping the Dark Queen’s blade, but now she would undoubtedly have to face the edge of the queen’s sword again. This time the gods would not be so merciful.

  “How can you be sure that the Raiders want her?” Stasis asked.

  “When I met her at the Connect, I knew that she was different. Unknown auras surrounded her. But the Empyrean told the tale. I could see her scar as plainly as I’m seeing you now. Even as she rests, her scar echoes in the realm of the Essence.”

  That traitor! What does he think he’s doing? Eva clenched her jaws, fighting back the fury.

  “Why have you waited till now to tell me, darling?” Stasis asked.

  Darling? This deceitful Water Walker has broken her oath.

  “We all have our secrets,” Wolf replied.

  Not anymore.

  “Jevar, I need you to trust me,” Stasis said.

  “For what?” He sounded angry now. “To go on pretending that our feelings are as fake as myths and legends?”

  “It won’t be much longer now.”

  “I have prayed to the gods for the past five years that they would remove those deadly words from my side.”

  “Then surely the gods have heard. They sent us the Girl with the Scar.”

  Eva wanted to leap from the bed, but she stayed still. How could you?

  “What do you intend to do, woman?” Wolf asked in his deep voice, void of the molasses.

  What do you intend to do, Jevar?

  Stasis fidgeted over her words. “Don’t you want the raids to end?”

  “Are you mad? We are not giving that girl over to the Raiders.”

  “Not to the Raiders, but to the consulate. We’ll let them decide what to do with her. Is our love not worth it?” Stasis asked.

  “I would slay a thousand of the unrighteous for your hand in marriage. But not one innocent will ever die by my blade, not for love.”

  What about the innocents that my mother told me about — the ones that you killed mercilessly? Isn’t that the reason that so many people fear you?

  “I suppose you’re right,” Stasis replied.

  You suppose?

  “What am I thinking?” Stasis asked. “Am I so blinded by love that I would sacrifice the life of this child?”

  Must you even ask?

  The molasses returned. “We cannot let our affection—”

  “Endanger others. I know.” Stasis’s voice was muffled, as if she were ashamedly breathing into her hands. “I’m so sorry, Eva.”

  The sound of her name rang inside of Eva’s core as loud as chimes. She wanted to respond, but her jaws filled with sour vomit that burned the back of her throat. She spat it onto the floor, hands trembling and face red.

  “Eva!” Stasis yelped. She rushed to the bedside and dabbed Eva’s face with a damp cloth. With a few more cloths, Stasis cleaned up the spillage, though the putrid odor lingered.

  As Eva’s shaking ebbed away, she could still taste the rancidity of the puke. But the sourness was not nearly as disgusting as the sharp taste of betrayal that remained.

  “You’re awake,” Stasis said.

  “How long was I asleep?” Eva asked.

  Stasis cut a glance back to Wolf as she cleaned up the mess on the floor. “Eva, you had a seizure.”

  �
��Three days have passed,” Wolf replied.

  Eva rubbed her forehead with the base of her hand as she sat back on the bed. She thought back to when she was a child, to the hours she and Edward would spend playing pretend in the yard near the well.

  She could play this game just the same. A grin here and a nod there would suffice. She wasn’t a fighter, but she would become one. She would train with them, but she would need to be vigilante, and when the time came, she would escape.

  “Where am I?” Eva asked, starting the game.

  “Willow Falls,” Wolf smiled, speaking in that sweet, thick voice. But Eva wasn’t fooled. There was venom on his tongue. “I want you to meet up with someone who can help you, that is if you’re willing.”

  Before Eva could answer, the door to her bedroom flew open. It was Jahn. Eva had traveled with Wolf and Stasis faster than many of the wayfarers whom her father used to tell stories about. No man could have made that trek as quickly as Eva and the others. Even a horse-drawn carriage would have had to circle around the cities and the hills.

  How had he gotten here before us? Eva wondered, but her thoughts were soon bashed by Jahn’s stiltedness.

  “Madam Genevieve, how delighted I am that you are awake.” His unlit pipe hung loosely from the corner of his jaw, and his face seemed younger. Perhaps it was the genuine grin that splashed across his lips.

  He called me Genevieve? “I’ll manage,” Eva replied, now giving in to his tinge of compassion.

  “Wolf tells me that you require insight that he cannot give.”

  Not insight from you, you decrepit bag of a man. Eva slid her back against the headboard. “Is that so? Why didn’t he just leave me with you when we were at High Oaks?” Her question was sharper than she intended. She pushed out a sly smile to keep up with the game.

  Jahn’s countenance returned to the sternness that Eva remembered. “There seems to be more to you than the stars will admit.”

  Eva supposed that he was referring to the scar, but she did not feel the surge of fear that she once had. Why would she? Everyone in the room knew who she was, but none of them were willing to admit it to each other, none accept Wolf to Stasis.

  She braced herself for the toughest part of the game. If Jahn gave away her secret, she would have to fake astonishment, fear, and pain all at once. Was there even an expression for that? She wasn’t sure.

  “What do the stars confess?” Eva asked, prepared to adjust her face.

  Jahn said nothing, but he watched over Eva from the foot her bed. He dug mindlessly around in his pocket searching for something that his fingers could not find. “Where is that blasted pipe?” he asked, fidgeting.

  “On your lip,” Eva said, pointing.

  “Ahh yes. The things that we often take for granted are the very things that are close to us.” He pushed the pipe to the center of his mouth, just beneath his nose. Staring into the bowl of the tobacco chamber, he drew in a few puffs. Eva was confused. There was no fire in the bowl, from what she could tell, not even a slither of smoke.

  “You, Madam Genie,” he said in a murmur, lips clenched on the bit, “are a strange one. I have never met a woman, nor a man for that matter, who has embodied both the power of Precision Empyrean…” his voice changed to a tone of warning, “…and a Kibitzer.” With that he struck a match over the bowl, and a flame erupted, lighting the pipe. He drew in a few puffs. The cracked lines on his forehead hid behind the white smoke fumes.

  Eva flushed herself against the headboard, forearms trembling. “Who are you people!” she shouted, springing off the bed. Her knees wobbled, still lazed from the seizure.

  “No, Madam Genie, the question is…who are you?”

  Eva’s eyes flicked to each of them, not sure what to say or whom to trust. This was not how the game was supposed to go. “I heard what you said!” she belted out, swaying back and forth, pointing her finger at Wolf.

  Wolf raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean—”

  “Don’t give me that! I wasn’t asleep. I heard you tell Stasis. You told her about me after I trusted you. You told her. And I know about the two of you. She called you ‘darling.’”

  “Eva, calm down,” Stasis said, walking over to her.

  Eva snatched her arm away. “Calm down? Don’t tell me to calm down. I heard you tell Wolf,” she spat his name out, “that you wanted to hand me over to the consulate. That I could be their problem. I heard it all. I wasn’t asleep.”

  “Madam Genie…”

  “My name is Eva!”

  “Madam Eva…”

  “Kibitzer, wait,” Stasis said, touching Jahn lightly on his shoulder. “Eva,” she sighed. “Jevar did not tell me anything that I did not already know.”

  Eva gulped a huge swallow of breath. The three of them beamed at her. “All this time you knew?” she fired out, then her voice calmed. “You knew…all this time?”

  Stasis shook her head. “I saw it when you changed into your sleek.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Stasis looked down at the floor. “We all have our secrets.”

  “But you wanted to turn me into the consulate.”

  “I’m sorry, Eva. I wasn’t thinking clearly. To think that we could stop the raids and that Jevar and I…” she paused and did not finish. “It was a moment of weakness.”

  “How can I know that I will not be slain in your weakness?”

  “Madam Genie.”

  “It’s Eva,” she said calmly.

  “Madam Genie,” Jahn continued, ignoring her interjection. “If you will let me help you, we may be able to discover the cause of the seizures, but more importantly, we still have the chance to save your brother, Edward.”

  Eva could play the game for a bit longer, at least until she was trained. But no one was playing with her anymore. They all knew about her scar. At least she didn’t have to hide it around them, and she had made it this far without them giving her over to the authorities. Perhaps she could trust them, at least until she found Edward.

  “Excellent, Madam Genie. Follow me.”

  Eva followed Jahn outside, leaving Wolf and Stasis behind. Her hair dangled loosely over her shoulders. Her sleek had become more comfortable.

  Jahn took her deep into the forest where there was no longer a trail. Willow trees rustled against one another, having no leaves on them, though they were preparing for spring, which would soon arrive.

  Evening was near, and the sun gleamed its final rays through the crevices between the tree line. Suddenly, Eva’s fears returned. What if the Haunt came? Why did she choose to trust this man?

  “Madam Genevieve,” he said, cutting off her thoughts. “We shall begin our training with a question. For it is our questions that provoke us to action.”

  “You want me to ask you something?”

  “Not just something. What is the question that burns within you? Though if I were limiting you to simply one inquiry, then you already would have used it.”

  Was she really supposed to bare her heart to the man she hated — the man who had manipulated her and her mother for so many years? This is part of the game, she reminded herself, sighing on the inside.

  She searched her heart for the one question that she felt at liberty to ask. Why do I have the scar? That wasn’t it. Will my brother survive? That wasn’t it either. Why did my mother have to die? This one felt good. She could ask this question, but before her tongue released it, a deeper question, buried within her belly, climbed into her throat.

  The agony of the question tormented her. Her cheeks flushed red, and tears streaked her face. Her emotions overwhelmed her, and she dropped to her knees, sobbing. Her tears dropped from the bridge of her nose, over the crest of her lips, and slid onto the dead brown blades of grass. This question had caught her off guard and tripped her up. Now she knelt, crying into the dirt that did not answer her pleas. “Why…” she cried. “Why do the gods hate me?”

  The words spewed from her lips like the disgusting hot
tea that she had spat out at Kingi’s hut in Shady Peninsula. Eva hoped that admitting them would patch up the wound in her heart, but it didn’t. It exposed every vile thing within her.

  It exposed her selfishness, how she wanted to save Edward not so that he would be safe, but so that she could be connected with her brother. It exposed her rebellion, flashing back to the stinging whips of her tongue that she had used to lash out against her mother and even her father.

  But worse, it exposed her. She was weak. She was nothing on her own. She wanted to be strong, but there was no strength in her. She grabbed the dead grass and it crumbled between her fingers. There was nothing to hold onto, and she felt that she was falling into the deepest pit of the seven hells.

  Jahn puffed the lip of his pipe, and then he dumped out the tobacco chamber. Charred flakes of ashes spilled from the bowl and washed away in the breeze. The lasting smoke spewed from his nostrils.

  He knelt down next to Eva and clasped her tear-soaked chin between two of his fingers, turning her head to face him. His hands were slick, hard, and rough, and she could smell the tobacco on his breath and on his fingertips.

  The waning sunlight touched against her face, lighting up the few streams of tears that remained.

  “Eva,” Jahn said, staring into her with those tainted orange eyes. “The gods don’t hate you.”

  Her name, from his mouth, touched her core. She was supposed to abhor him, but something about this moment was different. “Then why do they treat me so badly?” she asked, wiping away a few more tears.

  He rose to his feet and picked Eva up with him. “Though I do not know the heart of the gods, I do know that there is something about you. You have somehow caught their fancy, and with that, you will have their attention for eternity.”

  “Why only me? Is it just my turn?” she asked.

  “It’s not just you, Genevieve, but all who have chosen to listen. There are no turns with the gods, as you say. Only opportunities. You will become a fine Kibitzer some day.”

  “What do I have to do?”

  “Listen.”

  “To what?”

  “The beating of your heart,” he said, placing his pipe back into the pocket of his cloak. “The sound of the wind. The rays of the sun.”