“As for the little girl, she turned her mind immediately to thoughts of finding some magic that could free her sister, but in the struggle between Cu Carraig and the tortured souls, the great hound had fallen on the statue and crushed it into crystal shards. The little girl fell down on her knees and wept inconsolably over the shards until the next morning. The other girls left her to it and fled into the dark forest without a word.
“When the sun at last rose over the forest, after the longest night the little girl had ever known, she got up and she bathed in the pool, which welcomed her now like her only friend in the world, and while no one could imagine her contented, at least she could take some small comfort in the lulling sounds of Cu Carraig’s torment bubbling up from below. When she was done, and her clothes were as clean and dry as she could manage, she dressed.
“The last thing she pulled on was the glorious red cloak that was all that remained of her sister. Then she set out to find the other girls, who she knew would have only gotten themselves even more thoroughly lost in the night. And when she found them, she killed them in horrible ways. She killed them to be sure that her family would never hear of the choices she had made. She killed them in horrible ways because they’d done nothing whatever to help her save her sister, and because that gave her something to think about besides her sister. But most of all, she did it because now she’d been both the hunted and the huntress, and she’d decided that between the two, she rather liked being the huntress, thank you very much.
“What remained of the other little girls, she dumped into the pool, to hide what she’d done and to keep Cu Carraig company. And when she returned home, she told the horrible tale of how Cu Carraig had lured thirteen girls to their doom, and how only she had escaped by grace of the guardian spirits of the forest who’d ended him. Everyone mourned, and no one suspected, for though the little girl was never the same again, how could anyone expect her to be?
“As to the skull she’d dragged out of the pool, she’d chosen it from all the remains because it had belonged to a great warlord Cu Carraig had crushed, and because it’s the skull where the spirit resides and power lies. Through the skull, she could call upon the warlord, and it had been through him that she was able to rally the other dead to take their revenge. She cleaned the skull up and she kept it for herself, wrapped in a blanket in a box under her bed. It would be the first skull of many, for as she grew up and came into her proper magic, like her mother and her remaining sisters, she never forgot how useful a skull could be, or how satisfying to collect them.
“Although she didn’t kill again until she was a woman grown, she would come to learn that what she’d first done out of desperation came naturally. It became easy for her. Then it became fun. It snowballed, as these things will do, from taking lives to save herself, to taking lives to protect others, to taking lives to protect things or ideas, until even she had to admit to herself she’d started doing it merely for sport. No matter who she’d kill or why, she’d keep the skull, and she’d toss what remained in after Cu Carraig.
“After many, many years, the bones had piled so deep that you could see them during a dry year, so she found another pool to dump them. Then another. So it went, on, and on, and on, for though her family hadn’t been able to stand up to Cu Carraig, that didn’t make them mortal. Generation after generation of those who were mortal learned to fear her, then worship her, then demonize her. But love her or despise her, no one could get rid of her even when she seemed a helpless child, and certainly not after. Bloody Scarlet haunts the forest still, biding her time, waiting to take her vengeance on the upstart goddess who would see Scarlet forgotten, and to consign all her simpering worshipers to the bone pits.”
The fire had begun to burn low, and the room had fallen into shadow by the time Rowena finished her story. Silence hung over the cottage—broken only by the patter of the rain outside and the occasional rumble of distant thunder—as she rose stiffly.
“Well, then,” Rowena asked, “would anybody like a biscuit?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
She Didn't Say No
“I don’t simper,” Elissa said crossly. “I definitely do not simper.”
“Of course not, Jenny.” Keely gave her an encouraging pat on the arm. “I’m quite sure she meant that Scarlet only has it in for those Serinians who do happen to simper and bears no ill will for the rest.”
The rain had passed, the sun had come out enough to play hide-and-seek through the forest canopy and through the patchwork blanket of clouds still overhead, and their little expedition had been able to return to its journey in a relative lack of discomfort. Most of them had been quietly certain they’d pay the price for taking the time to get dry, but with Rowena’s cottage most of an hour behind, they’d still no reason to think that either Inquisition or Tuatha might be anywhere near.
“I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it,” Minda agreed as she clambered up a rocky rise to lead the way around a thick brier. “Just one more touch for the ghost story. There’s people out here who’d take offense if you tried to say they weren’t proper Serinians, but even among those there’s no love lost with the church. It never takes much more than the Inquisition noticing they exist for accusations of witchcraft to start flying.”
“Tell me about it.” A woman sighed as they crested the rise. She sat in a sunny patch on a large rock that did indeed look quite a bit like a one-eyed fox, perched on what would have been the muzzle. “You certainly took your time getting here.”
Keely, Elissa, and Tobias all froze for a moment. Age her a decade or two, and the young woman could have been a ringer for the lovely, disconcerting visitor who’d crashed that dinner party back at Denecia. She wore a voluminous, crimson traveling cloak over a dress of dark red velvet, and her long, coppery hair hung in splendid curls over her shoulders.
“We…did?” Minda asked guardedly.
“But I do accept your apology.” The woman beamed. “Besides, who could walk away from that story? Oooo…creepy!” she said with a happy little shiver. “Never gets old. Couldn’t have torn yourselves away even if you’d been rude enough to try, I’m sure. So I forgive you, even if you could have tried walking a bit faster after.”
“Who are you,” Ulric demanded, politely but firmly.
“I’m Scarlet.” She smiled sweetly, then rolled her eyes at the various expressions that played across their faces. “I know. I know. I get that all the time. I’ve thought about changing the name, but, well…I don’t want to. It’s a perfectly nice name, and red’s kind of my thing.” She gestured self-referentially at her hair and outfit. “Anyway, a little badger told me you were here looking for a book of all things, so let’s look for it together. Then—since I’m so darn cute and you’re so darn nice—you can give it to me. Won’t that be fun?”
“I’m sorry,” Ulric said. “You clearly think you know us, but we do not know you, and this is not a healthy time to go trusting strangers.”
“But you didn’t say no!” Scarlet sang brightly, hopping up off her rock. “That’s a start. Look, you know and I know that you’ve got no call to go traipsing through the forest like you own it, but I like you. Well…like-ish,” she corrected herself, waving one hand in a waffling gesture. “It’s the black-hoods I’ve got a score to settle with, and as they say, the enemy of your enemy’s got the most gorgeous blue eyes that totally offset her hair and her stylish red cloak.”
When no one seemed to know how to respond to that, Scarlet smoothly stepped into the conversational void in their place. “So where do we start looking? Yes, I eavesdrop. I know it’s a rude habit, but I never put my elbows on the table, so I’m allowed one, right? Point being, I’ve already searched all over this rock, and it’s just not here. We need a ‘plan B’.”
“’Plan B’ is you let them have a turn searching,” Ulric said calmly, indicating his companions with a nod of his head, “while you and I sit and talk so I can keep an eye on you.”
“I’ve b
een sitting,” Scarlet sighed, “but I’m up for a stroll. I can play along if you want to make your young lady jealous.”
“Yeah,” Ulric said, “that’ll work.” He turned to his companions to urge them forward and to roll his eyes meaningfully in their direction. Still, Keely was glad to note that he’d also laid his hand on the hilt of his blade. Even if the move gave the appearance of a casual, unconscious gesture, to her it spoke of the man’s unwillingness to trust the stranger or what lay behind her unhinged demeanor. That was good. The woman gave off exactly the same skin-crawling vibe that had sent Keely scurrying away from her older look-alike, only intensified.
“So, which one am I supposed to be hamming it up for?” Scarlet asked with her own backward glance as she slipped her arm into Ulric’s and they wandered away. She’d posed the question in what Keely would have considered a stage whisper, if only the woman hadn’t seemed to genuinely believe she wouldn’t be overheard. Either that, or she was enough of an actress to be even more trouble than Keely had estimated.
As the group spread out to search, Keely laid a hand on Elissa’s arm and held her back. “Let’s make an honest go of it, Jenny,” she said quietly, “but the trail can’t go cold here. If we don’t find anything else, we find our decoy book. And be sure you sell it to the others. Ulric’s the only…”
Elissa waved her quiet and gave a nod of understanding. “Got it.”
Under rock and tree root and carpets of dead leaves, in rocky niches and in tree branches and hollows, they searched with a purpose. At first, they mostly seemed to be trying to leave few traces as they went, but Ulric called back, “Quick and messy! Ransack the area. It’s been searched once, and daylight’s wasting. We’d best be done and gone before sundown!” They took him seriously.
“So,” Ulric said conversationally, “you’re Scarlet, but not ‘Bloody Scarlet’?” He carefully steered their wanderings in a wide circle around the others that always kept at least one of them in sight, though he made no effort to dislodge Scarlet’s grip on his arm. It left him certain of where at least one of her hands was at all times and trapped her even more effectively than it trapped him.
Though she wasn’t a small woman, he still had considerable mass on her, much of it solid muscle. The closer he kept her while he was evaluating her, the easier it would be to subdue her if it became necessary.
Some part of his brain accused him of justifying and nagged about the danger of close-quarters surprise moves from the woman—a dagger to the belly, a poisoner’s ring, and all those other tricks that storytellers will warn you about—but for all his stoicism he was a man, and she did have the most gorgeous blue eyes. The other bits weren’t easy to push away, either, despite her clearly unconventional grip on reality.
“Do I feel like a ghost?” Scarlet giggled, cocking an eyebrow.
“Can’t swear I’ve ever felt one.” Ulric shrugged.
“I thought only kids believed in Bloody Scarlet, anyway,” she said.
“I believe in what’s in front of me,” Ulric said, “and I believe careless, overconfident men lead short lives.”
“Fair enough.” Scarlet nodded.
“So stop evading and give me a straight answer.”
“I seem to recall,” Scarlet sighed, “that you’re the one who said we should play this game with our cards close to our chest. So, no, I’m not going to start giving plain, straight answers before you do. Besides, is there a straight answer to that question?”
“I suppose not,” Ulric conceded. He’d heard at least half a dozen distinctly different legends by now about who exactly Bloody Scarlet was and where exactly she’d come from.
“So let’s not quiz each other,” she said, looking up at him with a sly, sideways smile, “and get back to making your young lady jealous.”
“I’m sure she’s quite jealous enough as is,” Ulric said.
Scarlet shrugged. “It is a fine line to walk, this sort of thing.”
“May I ask why you want this particular book?” Ulric asked, pausing to offer her a helping hand across a little stream bed that intersected their path.
She shrugged again. “Why do people want gold? I mean, it’s not particularly useful, is it? But it’s kind of pretty, and there’s not a lot of it lying around. That seems to be enough for kings to raise an army with it and go to war over it. People are already lining up to go to war over this book when they’re not even sure it’s real or what it’s got to say. Maybe it’s all shiny and sparkles pretty colors? Anyway, no matter what’s inside it, the book is a weapon, and I’d rather have some choice in which direction it’s pointing.”
Mud flew. Fallen leaves flew. Any rock that didn’t seem completely anchored down got overturned. With Tobias and Conrad working together, even some small boulders got shifted. Perhaps a quarter of an hour into the chaos, after receiving one too many face-fulls of soggy leaves, the librarian in Elissa took over and she called for a halt.
“We need a filing system,” she said sternly, brushing a clod of earth out of her hair. “The debris is going everywhere, and I can’t tell where I’ve searched from untouched ground that someone’s just happened to throw mud on.
“We start over, working out from the rock. I’ll go this way.” She pointed as she bent down to pick up a fallen branch. “Keely, you go the other. Your Highness, if you and your squire would search out to our left and right respectively? Everyone scoop debris inward toward the rock.” She shoved the branch into Minda’s hand. “Your ladyship, would you prod the ground and the debris for anything with straight, man-made edges to it, wherever we leave you opportunity?” It was a good librarian voice. No one argued.
Of course, no plan survives contact with the enemy, and a forest full of great, big rocks and towering trees makes for an implacable enemy when what you’re trying to do is cover ground in a systematic manner. Still, the organization worked well enough that they could generally tell where they’d been, even if they weren’t spreading out in neat, ninety-degree arcs, and hardly anyone got a face full of mud after that.
Despite the chill of the day, they all started overheating from the exertion. At one point, Keely turned into a cat to start scrambling up trees and exploring the branches, and when she came back down after a fruitless search, she only bothered slipping back into her chemise.
Elissa had gotten so used to Keely’s casual relationship with clothing that she barely noticed. Tobias arched an eyebrow, but Keely simply countered it with an angelic smile, and he just chuckled to himself and moved on. Conrad clearly noticed, but just as clearly decided it wasn’t his place to comment. Minda smirked, but actually seemed to decide Keely was onto something—not that she exactly stripped down herself, but she did wind up shedding what bits seemed extraneous, and loosening laces on some of the rest.
They were in a war zone, now, in the embrace of an untamed forest just off the outskirts of civilization, where propriety and class structure seemed generally willing to bow to expediency to begin with. On top of that, the adventure had already made drowned rats of the driest of them, and silent consensus appeared to be that the motto of “practicality über alles” was fully in effect.
Of course, Keely wouldn’t have cried foul regardless when Tobias opted to follow her lead and stripped off his shirt. He definitely sported the musculature to make it scenic as well as practical.
Deepening shadows in the forest had just begun to hint at the approach of evening when Keely, Elissa, and Minda—all filthy and moving with leaden weariness—came picking their way down a rocky slope toward Ulric and Scarlet. The less-than-pristine book clutched to Minda’s chest immediately drew their eyes.
“Is this the book you were looking for?” Minda asked, solemnly holding out the weighty, weathered tome.
Scarlet studied the thing distastefully, making no move to reach for it. “You tell me.”
Minda shrugged. “All I know is that we got what we came for. Sister Jenny has already copied out all the bits we need from this book
. You’re welcome to take the original as a gift from the house of Haywood, and to go in peace.”
“Really? That’s so sweet.” Scarlet smiled. “Uh…If it’s a gift, would you mind wrapping it up for me? I’m not so sure I want to actually touch it.”
“Are you sure…” Ulric began.
“Quite,” Minda cut him off with an authoritative voice.
“We got what we needed,” Elissa said, nodding reassuringly.
A few minutes later saw the book wrapped back up in an old oilskin and Scarlet giving them each a grateful kiss on the cheek. “I really am very touched.” She beamed. “Most people are so difficult and unreasonable.” Then she glided confidently off into the shadows of the forest, her bright red cloak billowing around her.
“We just slipped her that decoy you made, didn’t we?” Ulric asked quietly, never taking his eyes off the retreating figure.
“Yeah,” Elissa agreed. “I don’t think we’ll be needing it after all. Did you ever find out who she was?”
“Not really, no.”
Riding back up the Wolf’s Tooth, Countess Violet Haywood did her best to remain stoic as she surveyed the devastation. From here, it looked as if the fire had consumed a full tenth of her domain—if not more—in a matter of hours. How many had died? She had no idea, and would likely have no idea for days. At least her own, immediate family was accounted for, thank go’ss, since Evert the huntsman had arrived not an hour earlier with word of her eldest daughter. Not that it sounded like Minda was actually safe, but at least she’d survived the night.
Lethal Red Riding Hood (Dark Goddess Chronicles Book 1) Page 35
