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

by Stadler, William

  “Not without you,” she said, not sure how that would even be possible.

  A slender Raider dove at Wolf’s waist, wrapping his arms around him. Wolf brought his tomahawks together over the soldier’s back and jammed the hilts of his axes into the man’s spine.

  The man screamed, voice clanging inside of the mouth guard. Wolf pounded his knee into the man’s helmet, forcing the man to stand. With air-slicing force, Wolf brought down the two blades, lodging them into the man’s collar. No lightning struck. The Raider hollered in pain, grabbing the handles of the tomahawks.

  Wolf turned to the side and kicked the Raider down the sloping hill. The man’s body splashed in the tainted stream, axes remaining in his neck. Wolf pounced onto another Raider, landing on the soldier’s chest. He raised his arms above his head, and the tomahawks materialized into hands. He brought the axes down, killing the man on impact.

  Eva clenched her dagger, not ready to attack. Her fingers were numb, threatening to drop the blade at any moment. As she fought against her resurfacing fear, a metal shoulder rammed into her hip. She fell to the ground, flinging the dagger to the side.

  The moonlight shimmered off of the blade as the dirk spiraled upwards. She pushed herself up, but the Raider’s weight pinned her to the ground.

  “Foot. Kick. Up. Now.” The whispers had returned.

  Instantly, Eva kicked her foot up. The toe of her boot connected with the dagger’s hilt, sending the dagger flipping towards her hand.

  “Lift…clamp.”

  Without thinking, Eva lifted her arm and clamped her fingers. The blade landed in her palm. The Raider picked up his forearm to bash it into Eva’s head. Screaming, Eva struck the dagger underneath the Raider’s helmet in the soft part of his neck.

  Black blood, as thick as tar, spilled from the helmet, splattering onto Eva’s forehead. Straining, she pushed the Raider off and slid backwards across the stony ground, frantically wiping her face.

  She picked herself up, positioning herself next to Wolf, wiping the black blood on the leg of her sleek, listening for the whispers. The ground underneath her feet flashed a bright gold. The Raiders stopped battling. Heavy gusts of wind blew past Eva’s face. Within the wind, a hushed murmur seemed to escalate. Then the shriek came.

  The scream slithered down Eva’s spine like a bolt of lightning. The ground split open making a slit the length of a man. From the slit, the Haunt shot out of the ground. The Raiders became enraged. Their cries became more powerful. Wolf hacked into them, but the electricity from his axes barely scathed them.

  “Pendant. Speak. Word. Flee.”

  Eva glanced around nervously, afraid. She clasped the pendant in her hand and spoke to it. “Flee,” she whispered.

  A growl rumbled through the air. A golden beam of light blasted into the sky, reflecting off the Raiders’ dark armor. The beam burst into the clouds. In a moment, the Beast soared down from the heavens crashing on the nearby hill. Trees split from the impact, and dirt clogged the sky.

  The Beast panted, spiked ears up as it listened. It hopped down the hill near Eva and grasped two Raiders around their torso, wrangling them as it brought them to its snout, roaring. Saliva spilled down its chin and over its fangs.

  The Raiders yelped, as the Beast crushed them in its hands. The Beast slung the two men down the hill into the stream. It pounded the ground and picked up Eva and Wolf, springing down the hill through the water. Its clawed paws gripped the ground as it raced up and down the slopes, dodging the Raiders’ arrows that they shot towards Eva and Wolf.

  The Beast ran for hours, panting and growling. Its head swiveled from left to right, but its legs did not cease. Eva’s body ached from the Beast carrying her, but she was alive.

  She felt safe. The Beast approached an intersection in the road where the trail sloped upwards after the roads crossed. Pines and birches hovered over the path, and streams of moonlight beamed down.

  In a final grunt, the Beast dropped Eva to the ground. The crest of her knee banged into a protruding root, sending a dull pain up her thigh. The Beast caught eyes with Eva and bolted away into the night.

  Eva rolled to her back, eyes closed. She swallowed hard, forcing out a few strained breaths that seemed that they had to navigate through the pain in her ribs just to exit her lungs.

  “You should have run when I asked you to,” Wolf said, breaking the silence. His voice was weak and defeated.

  Eva did not have the strength to look at him. She licked her tongue around inside her mouth, remembering how badly she craved a drink. “Had I left, you might be dead.”

  “Aye.” Somehow Wolf was already on his feet. He gulped a few swigs from his canteen that was encased in leather, and he kneeled down, handing the rest to Eva. “Drink. The rest is yours.”

  Without protesting, Eva limply grabbed the jug from him and sat up on her free elbow. The world seemed to spin about her, but she focused on the moon’s reflection against Wolf’s tomahawk. She had killed a man. It made her feel weak and stale. But the man’s death had been unnatural. Why was his blood black? She expected to feel troubled, yet she felt nothing. Am I a brute like those savages? she wondered. That was not possible, she knew. Maybe she just needed time for her head to settle and for her thoughts to clear.

  Greedily, she swallowed entire mouthfuls of the water that had warmed from being on Wolf’s hip. Streams of liquid wasted down her chin. She stopped drinking for a moment to catch her breath. The water jostled inside the canteen. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and then drank some more.

  Her thirst had been quenched, and she sipped the side of the canteen ever so often just to remind her body that her thirst had been satisfied. “How long had you been following us?” she asked.

  Wolf stood up. His eyes were bright green as he scanned for Empyrean. “Did you really think that I would let you turn yourself over to the Raiders and not come for you?”

  Eva swallowed another mouthful, trying to talk the through drink. “I didn’t want anyone else to be killed on my account.”

  “People will die on your account from either this side of the kingdom or the other. That is the fate of the Girl with the Scar.”

  Eva wiped her mouth again, slowly this time. “What do you mean?”

  Wolf’s eyes lost their jade flare, and he stared at her through the darkness of the night. He put his hands on his hips and dropped his head, sighing. “The Kibitzer has told me why the king is looking for you.”

  CHAPTER 19

  THE KNOWLEDGE

  After several days of traveling, Wolf and Eva arrived at the refugee camp for the citizens of Winter Hills. Eva had still been unable to get the sufficient amount of rest for which her body had been longing. Her muscles ached and cramped, and her hair was tangled, matted with mud and dirt. She wanted a bath, but even more than that, she wanted to sleep.

  The camp was dusty and crowded. Tents large enough to fit full families had been pitched within the tree-enclosed dirt flat, and the men carried heavy logs and huge buckets of water on their shoulders. The children seemed to have become acquainted with their new way of life, and they chased each other around the camp playing games, laughing and yelling.

  Eva hardly paid them any mind. She wanted to find her brother, and she wanted a bed. Her head swirled around, not sure which of the two she wanted more.

  It had been a while since her last seizure, and Eva had begun to wonder if the gods had finally looked favorably upon her, though she knew that quite the contrary was true. Edward was gone and the Raiders still hunted her, and now since she had escaped, she was certain that their efforts would be doubled.

  Wolf had kept her secrets to himself with the promise of letting Jahn explain everything to her. Her anticipation sent jitters through her hands and toes, but she had not pressed him for more information, not sure if her exhausted body could handle what stiff news he had for her.

  Wolf guided Eva to an isolated tent near the center of the camp. Eva ducked her head ins
ide, and her eyes met Stasis’s familiar face.

  “Still in one piece, I see.” Stasis smiled as she lay on her side with a brown blanket underneath. She set her elbow on the ground, propping her head on her palm.

  “Barely,” Eva replied.

  “Have you eaten?” asked Stasis.

  “Only a few nuts and berries that Wolf brought along.” Eva found another blanket folded in the corner. She spread it out and lay on her back next to Stasis staring at the top of the tent where rays of the afternoon light streaked through the tiny holes in the threads.

  She handed Eva a chunk of bread, and Eva pulled off a few pieces and shoved them into her mouth. The bread was hard and stale, but the lingering flavor of tangy wheat was still settled in the air pockets of the loaf. It was enough taste for Eva to savor. She sighed and swallowed, realizing that her empty stomach would not let her eat more than just a few bites, though she knew she was much hungrier.

  “Stasis?” Before Eva could ask the question, tears streamed down the sides of her face and dripped quietly on the soft blanket. “Why are you so good to me?”

  Stasis let out a deep breath and pushed Eva’s hair off her forehead. “I know what it’s like to be alone.”

  “You mean after your mother forced you to leave?” Eva pushed the words out, hesitantly gauging Stasis’s reaction.

  “I didn’t have anywhere to go, but I was too prideful to beg for her to let me stay. Living the life as a vagabond is far from extravagant. Nights were awful and the days were worse.”

  Eva wiped the tears off her face and turned to look at Stasis. “That seems contrary. There are wolves and all kinds of beasts that stalk under the starlight.”

  Stasis rolled her eyes and let out a disgusted huff. “The wolves were not nearly as ravenous as the men in the towns. More than once did I have to fight for my virtue, yet somehow, I won. I couldn’t keep taking the chances of fighting alone, so I met Carolyn from the Water Walkers. The walkers provided protection and a community, not to mention that the walkers are all covered by the consul.”

  “But why me? Why do I deserve your generosity?” Eva asked, getting back to the question.

  “I knew that just like me, with a little nudge, you would soar.”

  Eva chuckled between the tears. “Feels like the little nudge has landed me flat on my face.”

  A smile spread over Stasis’s face showing her pearly, white teeth. “Better to be bold on your face than to be a coward on your feet.”

  Eva chuckled more heartily. “You’re beginning to sound like the Kibitzer.”

  Stasis joined in on the laugher, poking her lips out and mocking Jahn. “Madam Genie, do you hate me that much to compare me to him?”

  Eva kept laughing, not realizing how refreshed she felt to be near the woman who had cared for her. After a moment, Eva’s laughter settled down to a gentle grin. Stasis was right. The little nudge had made her bold. She had turned herself over to the Raiders not letting the fear of death control her. What else could a little nudge do for her? Before she could consider her question, she drifted off to sleep.

  When Eva woke up to the sound of a lyre, the light from the sun no longer seeped into the tent, replaced by the lights from the torches. The people were clapping and singing a tune that Eva had not heard before.

  She climbed out of her tent to see what the commotion was about. The children were still playing, and hogs were hoisted over several fire pits with the cookers mindlessly spinning the pigs on hand-crafted spits.

  The camp smelled of bacon and beer. Eva’s empty stomach rumbled. As she walked up to one of the fires, the edge of a wooden plate hit her in the bone of her chest. “Ow!” she said.

  “My sister, the heroine,” Edward said, grinning as he offered Eva the plate.

  Eva’s hunger left her in exchange for joy. “Edward! I thought you were gone forever.”

  He pushed his dark hair out to the side. “How little do you think me?” he asked with his normal sly grin.

  Big-bellied Rufio stood next him tearing into an entire pig’s leg. He looked more like a bear than a man. “Don’t let old Ed fool ya’, missy,” Rufio said with chunks of greasy hog hanging off his lip and dripping into his beard.

  Edward playfully punched Rufio in the gut, making the man’s belly shake. “My sister thinks the world of me. Don’t ruin that for her.”

  “Heh, heh, heh.” Rufio laughed, still chewing. “What Ed means to say is that it was not his craftsmanship that wrenched us to freedom this time.”

  “Then what happened?” Eva asked, not able to share in their laughter as she wanted to uncover the truth.

  Rufio patted his stomach. “My belly has more uses than one.” He tilted his head and winked at Eva. “I always hide some Essence in the fold of the flab.”

  “You mean under your gut?” Eva asked. “That’s disgusting.”

  “Heh, heh, heh. It got us here, did it not?” He bowed smugly, still chomping the meat that puffed out his jaws.

  “What he means to say,” Edward said, smiling, “is that he had stuffed some Decaying Empyrean Essence under his stomach…where no man would dare to look, might I add. When the guards had gone to sleep, he used the Essence on our binds, and we got away.”

  “Why didn’t they just kill you?” Eva asked, afraid of the answer.

  “With a sword to my neck, I told them that I was your brother.” Edward held a finger to his throat. “They foolishly thought to use me as leverage, not knowing that I was as crafty as a weasel.”

  “You’re safe now, and that’s all that matters.” Eva grinned, realizing that she sounded like her mother. “Just don’t be going off again like you’ve lost all of the sense in your noggin.”

  “I will not argue with you there, good sister.” He rolled his eyes and rested his weight on Rufio’s shoulder who had just stuffed a pinch full of pig fat into his mouth, breathing hard as he savored the flavor.

  She noticed that Rufio no longer had the spadroon on his side. Instead, two straps crossed over his chest, leading to a hilt for a war hammer that was attached on his back. He noticed that Eva’s eyes followed the straps to his weapon. He swallowed the piece of fat that probably wiggled down his gullet. “The spadroon is too light. I use it sometimes, but look at me; do I look like the kind of guy who fights with a blade of finesse? There’s nothing of finesse about me besides me’ droppings.”

  Edward backhanded Rufio’s arm. “My sister does not need to hear about your movements.”

  “Heh, heh, heh….”

  Edward lost his grin. “Eve, Wolf and the Water Walker wanted to speak with you when you awakened.”

  Eva’s face turned pale. She had found her brother again, and she didn’t care why the king wanted her. She didn’t want to hear what Wolf had to tell her. Without saying anything else to her brother, she nodded and walked over to Jahn’s tent. The tent was larger the others, and Eva could have stood up straight to enter.

  She sighed. Her shoulders sagged, and she ducked her head to enter. Stasis sat in the corner with her chin resting on her knee while the other was crossed in front of her. Wolf lay on his blanket. Jahn sat in a chair in the corner, twirling his unlit pipe between his fingers. His beret tilted to the side, and a troubled look had found its way to his face.

  Eva stood at the entrance, barely able move. The singing and the dancing outside did not fit with the heaviness that crept its way into Jahn’s tent. Eva pushed her hair out of her face, waiting for one of them to cut into her with the words that she dreaded. Her forehead dampened from the sweat that seeped through her skin, and the palms of her hands became wet. The sleek felt tighter, but she tried to relax. “Edward said that you were looking for me,” she said, more to ease her own nervousness than anything else.

  “I have listened to the words of the wind, Madam Genie. Between their whistles, they hum a sad song.”

  Hearing the name Genie from Jahn did not seem to be as abrasive as before, though she still despised the name. “What do they
say?” she asked, sitting in the seat next to him.

  “They tell of things old and new, but they have answered the questions that toiled within me when I saw you at Green Planes…” he paused to look at her, cracked lines on his forehead bunched together, “…after the death of my son.”

  “Your son?”

  Jahn shut his heavy eyes, nodding. His wrinkles seemed thicker than they had before. He stopped twiddling his pipe and stuffed it full of tobacco from his pocket, staring into the bowl. “Tyel. My son,” he said, weakly.

  “The man who was killed at the square, that was your son? How?” she asked. “You did not seem to care when you came to aid my mother’s mourning.” Eva hesitated when she spoke, remembering that Jahn’s aid was more of a burden than an honor at the time.

  Jahn regained the strength in his voice as he lit his pipe, drawing on the lip to prime it. “A Kibitzer does not have the luxury to wear his emotion on his face, so he hides it in his heart.” He pointed his crooked finger into his frail chest.

  “But you rarely visited him.”

  “No, Madam Genie. I never visited him. All those times that I came to Green Planes, I stayed away from his house, though I desperately longed to go. An occasional nod was all that I could afford him, and he understood.”

  Eva put her head in her hands. Her hair fell over her fingers, then she sat back up. “What happened to Tyel?” she asked, somberly, not able to digest the image of the mangled corpse that her eyes had gobbled up so many months ago.

  “The Haunt,” Wolf replied, sitting up on his blanket. “I had been hunting that apparition for years, tracking it down to the region outside of your village.”

  “Why was the Haunt in Green Planes?”

  “Looking for you,” Jahn replied. His head was titled, and his eyes were wide as he pointed a sure finger at her. Puffs of smoke escaped the edges of his mouth. “Sent by the king himself. A watcher or a seeker, I should say.”

  Eva sat still, blankly gazing at the other side of the tent. She could hear the music outside, but it sounded more like a clamor than a melody. The fiddles were too high pitched, and the lyre sounded out of tune. Even the clapping sounded offbeat. “Why is the king looking for me?” she asked.