“That’s right. And I feel . . . discord, discontent, distress, about not going.”
“You know how it is, Dixon,” Basha said.
He sighed deeply, then smiled. “Yes, I know the feeling. So when do we leave?”
“Immediately. I hope we’ll be back within hours—a day or two at the most,” Mara then said to the others. “If we’re not back within . . . let’s say three days, take the girls and proceed to Lucy’s safe house. If that happens, have Leala and Fidel send some resources so I can continue my studying when we meet back up with you. Understood?”
“Understood,” they responded in unison.
“May I make a suggestion?” Dixon asked.
“Please, do.”
“I recommend you leave someone in charge. If something should happen to you, the Good One will call a new Oathtaker for the girls, but in the meantime, there could be chaos. Fear can breed discord and indecision and with that could come added danger to everyone.”
“I agree. Basha, you’re in charge. Everyone will take their orders from you.” Mara looked to Therese. “If that’s acceptable to you.”
“Certainly.”
“Very well then. Keep the group together as much as possible.” Mara turned to Dixon. “Anything else you can think of?”
“Just that we should grab some food and carry extra weapons.”
She grinned weakly. “Done.”
“Done?”
She pointed to two backpacks on the floor near her. “Nancy and Celestine put some things together earlier.” She watched him closely. “Not to worry, there’s enough for two.”
“But— Who were you—”
“Planning to take with me? Why, you, of course.”
He shook his head. “You drive a hard bargain.”
“You notice I had to use my best powers of persuasion to get you to agree to accompany me.”
He chuckled. “Right. Very persuasive.”
“Nearly as persuasive as you are charming,” she said as she reached down to put something into one of the backpacks. She stood back up and held his gaze. “Really, are you all right with accompanying me? You don’t have to. I can go alone.”
“If you believe it must be done, then I’m with you.”
She turned to Adele who sat quietly near the fireplace. “The babies are resting?” she asked.
“Nina was just feeding them.”
Mara approached the adjoining door, knocked lightly, then entered just as Nina placed Eden in her basket for the night. She went from one of the infants to the other, stroking each gently across the cheek and kissing each in turn. Then she turned away to hide the tears welled in her eyes. For a moment the bitter, nostalgic feeling of having left someone before, overwhelmed her. She tried to shake it off.
“Take good care of them, Nina. I’ll be back soon.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“And Nina, thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure. Really.”
“Well, thank you anyway. See you soon then.” Mara left the room, her tears stinging her eyes. She’d not expected such pain on leaving the girls. When she looked up at Dixon, she could see a question in his expression. She blinked rapidly to hold her tears at bay. “Are you ready then?”
“Are you all right?”
“Fine. I’m fine.”
He watched her closely. “All right. What’s the plan then?”
“I need quiet. I haven’t traveled for some time now.” She looked at her other friends. “We’ll leave from here if you don’t mind.”
“Take care, Mara, Dixon,” Therese said as she, then Basha, embraced them each briefly.
Next came Samuel and Jules. Jules bowed slightly and wished them well. Samuel simply nodded his head, remaining mute, as was his custom. For a moment, Mara wondered if she would even recognize his voice, he spoke so rarely.
Finally, Adele stepped forward. “Watch out for that witch,” she said.
“I intend to,” Mara said.
The young woman turned to Dixon. “Don’t let her catch you again.”
He grinned. “Right. We’ll be back soon. You just help care for the girls.”
“It’s just that I know how evil Lilith is.”
“It’s all right, Adele. We’ll be all right,” Mara tried to assure the young woman. After everyone was gone, she handed a backpack to Dixon. “You have all the weapons you want?”
“Yes.”
She pulled her pack over her shoulder as she looked toward the room where the infants slept. She feared going into the unknown, but even more, she feared remaining ignorant of what Lilith was doing.
“Here we go then.” She grasped Dixon’s forearms. When she looked up, their eyes met.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Have you a destination in mind?”
“I’m shooting for Ted’s.”
“Can you do that?”
She smiled. “We’re about to find out. Here we go.”
Landing with one foot upon a rock, Mara fell forward, only to have Dixon grasp her arm to steady her. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes,”
“Whew! That was incredible!” he exclaimed.
She laughed. “I know. Indescribable, isn’t it? Too bad it’s over so quickly.”
“Yes, I’m sorry I was unconscious through it the first time.” He looked around. Leafless hardwood trees surrounded them. An inch or two of new fallen snow covered the ground. “Where are we?”
“I’m not sure. I was aiming for Polesk, but it seems . . . Well, needless to say, I’m still working on this particular talent.”
The waning second moon cast limited light into the glen. The rustlings and babblings of the night creatures that stuck around for winter, sounded out. Mara jumped at the laughter of a skulk of fox, then wrapped her shawl more tightly around her shoulders and shivered, in part from the cold, and in part in response to the sound.
“Where to from here?” he asked.
“To wherever my nose leads us, I guess.”
He laughed. “Picking up any scents?”
She shook her head, grinned, then headed for a trail she made out in the moonlight. Edging her way around a thorny bush, she pointed out to Dixon, so he would not misstep, a hole in the ground.
Soon, they reached the edge of a rocky ledge. Dixon moved aside the branch of an evergreen obstructing their view. The smell of pine permeated the air. He placed his hand on the small of Mara’s back, directing her to take a look.
She inhaled deeply of the scent. “I know where we are. We passed through here on our way to Polesk. That’s the city there.”
“Right you are.” His eyes scanned the horizon. “It’s odd, though. Polesk isn’t nearly as lit up as usual.”
“How can you tell?”
Standing just behind and to her side, he moved the branch farther back to get a better look. He leaned in, his cheek nearly touching hers. With a nod, he directed her attention. “See there? Those lights?”
She couldn’t help but notice his closeness, his hand on the small of her back. “Yes.” She struggled to focus.
“See those lights just below the tower? Those are the Oathtakers’ offices. It appears some lamps burn, but not as many as usual. And look,” he continued, directing her attention higher, “above the offices, is sanctuary’s steeple. Usually it’s lit up right to the top. Mirrors surround the lamps in it. They multiply the light many times over. But they’re all out now.” He bit his lip. “In the past, when I’ve been through here at night, sanctuary has lit up the night sky.”
“Why would the lights be out?”
“Not sure. Mourning, maybe?”
“Mourning?”
“Maybe they’re still acknowledging the loss of Rowena. I don’t know. But it’s like the heart of the city has been shut out.” He allowed the branch he’d been holding aside to fall back into place and then they retook the trail.
“You know, I
can’t help but note that Ehyeh brought you here rather than directly into the city, Mara. Maybe we shouldn’t go there after all,” Dixon said after several minutes of silence.
“Maybe. But for now, I feel led that way.”
“So, why do you suppose we landed here?”
“I don’t know. Maybe there’s something He wants us to see.”
In silence, they advanced, one lending a hand to the other when needed, one moving a branch aside for the other when needed, one pointing out a pitfall to the attention of the other as needed. They communicated with signs and gestures.
After an hour or so, they came upon a small thatched cottage. It was silent and dark. No smoke rose from its chimney. As they neared it, something drew Mara’s attention to the ground. There she found dark splotches in the snow. She cocked her head, then crouched down and grasped a handful of the darkened snow. She smelled it.
“What is it?”
She looked up. The light of the moon shone in her eyes. “Blood.”
He crouched down at her side. “Blood?”
“Look,” she whispered as she grasped Spira, then pointed out a trail of scattered drops of blood, then larger pools, then more drops. Nearby shuffled footprints headed in no certain direction.
Dixon unsheathed Verity. “This way.” He took her hand.
They followed the blood trail. “There!” Mara gasped.
His gaze followed her direction. There lay two bodies, silenced in death. Around them was a lake of frozen-over blood.
Mara drew nearer. Her eyes followed the outstretched arms of one of the dead. Several yards away, partially covered by brush, lay an infant stripped of all covering. “Oh, great Ehyeh!”
Dixon put his hands on her shoulders, then turned her toward himself and away from the scene.
“Why? Why would someone do such a thing? And to an innocent child!”
He drew her nearer. “There’s no explanation but evil, and there is no explaining evil.”
“Do you suppose they were Select?” she asked, tears pooled in her eyes.
“I don’t know. But I can find out.”
“How?”
“Upon death, an innocent Select will always show the sign of his birth. All infants are innocent.” He stepped away.
“No, Dixon. No, let’s just get out of here.”
“But we should know.”
She hesitated. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I can do it.”
“I’ve got it,” he said, motioning with an outstretched hand for her to stay put. He moved the infant’s head to the side and looked where her sign would be if she had one. “No.”
“She was not of the Select?”
“That’s right.”
“So this wasn’t an assassination.”
“No.”
“Do we bury the bodies?”
“No, it would take too long.”
For the next couple hours, they marched on, passing one quiet farm after another.
Dixon stopped short. “This is very odd. None of these homes show any signs of life at all.”
“I was just thinking the same thing.” Mara nodded toward a nearby farm. “Let’s check out that place.”
Not far from the front door, signs of death again greeted the Oathtakers. An entire family lay slain. They found the youngest, an infant girl, in the same state as they’d found the earlier child.
Mara examined the infant. “Not a Select,” she said. “What is going on here, do you suppose?”
Dixon shrugged. “I don’t know. But these bodies haven’t been here long. A few hours at most, I’d say. Do you still want to go to Polesk?”
“I feel I have to. Maybe Ted knows something about all this.”
Sometime later, near the city, they stopped in a ditch to watch and listen. Crouching, then pulling Dixon down to her side, Mara pointed. “See there?” she whispered. “It’s a sentry.”
“And there,” he gestured, “is another.”
“Is the city always guarded?”
“I’ve never seen this before. They’re not locals.” He stood and reached for her hand. “Let’s get closer. Careful now.” He grasped Verity, as she took up Spira.
A minute later they took cover again, this time behind a large boulder. They peeked out to find guards stationed on each street within their view. Then more men walked out from the city center.
“Relieving!” a nearby gruff voice called out.
“Relieved!” another responded. The relieved guard made his way back into the city while the new man remained.
Mara dropped back on her haunches. “Dixon,” she whispered, “see that building? The balcony there on the second story?”
He leaned over her shoulder. “You want to enter the city from there?”
“Watch how the guards move. See there?” she asked, acutely aware of his nearness.
The guards all moved to their right. Upon reaching the station of the next post they each then moved to the left, back to their original position.
“We time our entry between their moves.”
“Got it. Rope?”
“Here.” She pulled a length of rope out from her pack.
“Should be enough. And a hook?”
“I don’t think we’ll need one. Look,” she pointed. “See that corner post?”
He nodded.
“Using a hook might be too loud. We could just catch the rope on that post.” She turned to him, his face just inches from her own. “Do you think?”
“Yes.”
She handed the rope to him. She held his gaze, smirking. “All right, so here’s the thing. I’m a great shot,” she paused, “but I kind of suck at lassoing. I’m leaving that to you.” She raised her brow.
He grinned, tied the rope so it could catch easily on the post, then set out, motioning for her to follow.
“Oh!” Mara dropped her hold on Dixon. “I thought we’d had it there for a minute.”
He rolled over. “Not safe yet,” he whispered. Looking down as a guard made his way toward them, he motioned for Mara to find cover. When something momentarily diverted the guard’s attention, Dixon unlatched the rope from the deck post.
Mara pulled tight against the wall, as though willing herself to become a part of it. A woodpile partially hid her. It smelled sweet, almost wine-like.
As Dixon crouched down at her side, his hand brushed against something furry. He pulled away. A cat leapt out, screeching in fear, its back arched in protest. Wood crashed down from the top of the stack.
The guard turned back to the deck. He approached, stopped, and then shouted, “Who goes there?” He paused to listen, then jabbed his sword up through the balcony railings.
The cat jumped to the top of the railing and hissed.
The guard flinched. Then recognizing the beast for what it was, he relaxed. “Damn cat.” He stood quietly, watching for further movement, listening for further sound. A long minute passed and then finally, he moved off.
Mara exhaled slowly, soundlessly.
Dixon grinned at her as he made his way to his feet. “Nothing like a little rush of fear to get the morning off to a good start, huh?” he joked, his voice hushed. He helped her up, then turned to a door against which he’d been resting. “Before the next guard comes by,” he whispered.
She pulled on a loop of rusted wire that served as a makeshift handle. The hinges emitted a faint creaking as the door opened. She stepped inside, Spira at the ready, Dixon immediately behind.
The Oathtakers entered a room, nearly dark. Only weak rays of the rosy, emerging dawn’s light entered it through cracks in its boarded up windows. It smelled musty and old. At first glance, Mara thought it empty, but then she saw a woman seated silently at a rickety table, rocking, her shapeless gray woolen garb melding into the background.
“Who are you?” the woman asked, turning vacant eyes on her visitors. She ceased rocking.
Mara quietly introduced herself and Dixon.
“Klynn,” the woman tersely r
esponded.
“We beg your pardon for intruding, Klynn. We mean you no harm. We merely sought a way into the city around the guards.”
“Have you come to lend succor to the city?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Whyever would you steal your way into the city while others seek to escape, unless you’ve come to lend aid to others?”
“We’re Oathtakers,” Mara said.
“We seek information,” Dixon added.
“What is it you wish to know?”
Mara pointed toward the empty chairs at the table, a question in her eyes. Klynn nodded her assent. The aged seats creaked in protest as the Oathtakers sat.
Mara leaned forward. “We’ve just arrived in the area and . . . we’ve seen some disturbing things. We need to get to sanctuary to meet with a friend.”
“Good luck.”
“Why do you say that?” Dixon asked. “Is it unsafe to move about in the city?”
“I think the world is coming to an end.”
“What?” Mara asked.
Klynn breathed in and out slowly, audibly. Suddenly, she cocked her head to the side, furrowing her brow as if in great concentration. Then she cocked her head to the other side. “Are they screaming again?” she finally asked, of no one in particular.
“Who? Is who screaming?”
“Why, all of them. All of those they’ve come after,” she said, making a circular motion with her hand.
“Ahhhh, Klynn, we just arrived in Polesk. We don’t know what you’re talking about. Who was screaming? Who is after whom? We don’t understand.”
“So no one is screaming now?”
“No, no one is screaming now.”
“I’ve wanted to stop them. Oh, merciful Ehyeh.” Klynn dropped her head into her hands.
Patiently, the Oathtakers waited until it seemed she would say no more. Mara looked at Dixon, raising a brow and shrugging, silently inquiring as to whether he had any ideas.
He signaled that he would give the questioning a try. “Klynn, can you tell us who you were talking about? Who was screaming?”
Her dull gray eyes slowly moved his way. “Everyone. They run through the streets screaming, crying. I think it will never end.” She rocked again.
“Why do they scream?”
Oathtaker Page 38
