by Aubrie Nixon
But floating naked in the lake, she felt light. Her anxiety floated away with the blood and grime. For this small moment, she was free.
She returned to the surface and breathed in the cool mountain air, looking again for Daegan. He was floating on his back several yards away, humming a strange, dark, and eerie tune. It was one she thought she recognized. He looked peaceful. The sunlight made him glow at first and then disappear from view as the sun drooped down toward the horizon. She watched him swim to the shore and dry off. His wet hair touched his shoulders, accenting his muscular, chiseled chest. He’d done the smart thing and kept his undergarments on. He put on a pair of clean clothes and walked back towards the village without so much as a backwards glance, which she was suddenly very grateful for. What had she been thinking, stripping down completely naked? She panicked as she realized she’d forgotten to grab her bag with her extra clothes. Oh gods, she thought. What am I going to do?
She treaded water, waiting to see if he would come back.
“Daegan?” she yelled hopefully.
No answer. Damn. Damn. Damn. She swam closer to shore and stood there, in waist deep water, watching as the setting sun painted the sky in oranges and pinks. The moon peeked out from behind the clouds where it been hiding, lighting the lake around her. It was starting to get cold. She would just have to put on her dirty clothes and bathe again later. She swore as she tiptoed to her clothes, covering herself as best as she could. But her clothes weren’t there. Instead, there was a small dagger, one she recognized. Daegan had been using it to peel an apple earlier. She imagined the smirk on his stupid face, and her eye began to twitch. She would not give him the satisfaction of waiting helplessly in the moonlight for someone to find her. She would just have to walk back to the village naked. She just hoped the roads were empty of people. She crept up the path, shivering and hugging herself tightly, one hand gripping the dagger tightly, the other pulsing with pain from where the blade had sliced it earlier. Grimacing, she concentrated on the weight of the dagger. She was going to throw it at Daegan’s head. She smiled at the thought of bursting into the inn, naked and swinging a dagger.
“They’ll think I’ve gone mad.” She laughed.
The crunch of cart wheels on the road made her stop dead in her tracks. She instinctively grabbed for her weapons, knowing she didn't have them on hand. She sucked in her breath and swore. Holding her head high, she looked straight ahead and did her best to cover what she could as the cart approached. She smiled awkwardly, struggling not to make eye contact with the couple and their two children. The woman gasped, trying to shield her children's eyes, and her husband stared straight ahead, his eyes wide in disbelief. She heard the children giggling. She sighed as they rode past, and cursed Daegan’s name, shaking her fist at the night sky.
After walking for what seemed like ages, another figure appeared on the road. Squinting her eyes, she tried to see who it was. She could make out a tall, girlish figure and golden locks which glistened in the moonlight. Chantry. The young woman held up her bag, along with a fresh set of clothes and undergarments.
“Errr, Sephera? Daegan said you might need a change of clothes,” she said carefully, as if testing her mood. Relief flooded through Sephera, followed by a sudden burst of annoyance.
“That's because HE TOOK MY CLOTHES!” she yelled, stamping her foot. She felt herself tumbling as her foot caught under a branch. She fell right into a pile of what smelled like horse dung.
Chantry stifled a laugh.
“Are you laughing? Seriously? I just bathed in a lake and am walking NAKED back to the village, and now . . . well, I just fell into shit.”
Chantry laughed harder.
“Stop! It's not funny! Gods, give me the clothes so I can get dressed.”
Sephera grabbed the bag and clothes and stomped over to the trees, using leaves to brush off what filth she could. She dressed quickly and returned to the road. Chantry was still laughing uncontrollably, clutching her sides and trying to catch her breath.
Sephera glared at her, walking past without so much as a thank you.
“Wait! Sephera, wait! I’m sorry for laughing.”
Chantry ran to catch up, trying to stifle a giggle as she ran.
“I’m not going to wait for you if you keep laughing,” Sephera said coldly.
“All right, sorry. But, you have to admit, it was kind of funny. I mean, if it was anyone else, wouldn’t you have laughed, even a little bit?” she asked.
“With everything that has happened, he just left me there, defenseless and NAKED! He's a pompous, self-righteous ASS!” she said hatefully.
“Well, he did send me to fetch you, so he can’t be that hateful, can he? And besides, what on earth possessed you to think it was a good idea to swim naked with that gorgeous specimen?”
“I’ve gone mad. That's the only explanation I’ve got. I have literally gone mad.”
“Do you think he saw anything? I mean—you, naked?” Chantry’s eyes were wide with excitement.
“Oh, gods. I don’t know. He’d be a lucky bastard if he did,” Sephera joked.
“There's that confidence. Perhaps you aren’t as mad as you thought.”
“Do mad people know they are mad?” Sephera thought aloud.
“I don’t think so,” Chantry answered. “It’s the mad ones who tend to think the rest of the world has lost it while they are sane ones. But I’m not the one walking naked in the moonlight.”
Sephera threw the girl a dangerous look. Chantry smiled slightly, shrugging. They walked in silence, Sephera too angry to do anything but breathe. Thinking Chantry wouldn’t dare bother her further, Sephera began to relax.
“Zad is worried about you, Sephera. You really frightened him. He's in quite the frenzy.”
“I know,” she whispered back as they reached the town inn.
“We will stay here tonight and head out at dawn. We’ve lost a day, but it will give us a chance to try and understand the plague a bit more,” Chantry said quietly, the door closing behind her.
Sephera nodded in agreement, surveying the room. It was small, with a bar and a few wooden tables. A large fire was roaring in the corner of the room, and Zad sat in an oversized armchair, talking with the shopkeeper and Brenner. Daegan was nowhere to be seen, which was smart, because if she had seen him, not much would have stopped her from gutting him right there.
“So you’ve returned in one piece,” Zad said, looking a bit worse for wear as they sat down. “Are you ready to tell us what exactly has been going on? Because a lot of things have been strange lately, and it started with that mission you went on, hunting that stag. What happened, Seph? You haven’t been yourself, and with everything that is going on with these dark creatures—you being attacked . . . I don’t know what to think.”
Sephera glared at him, seething. “Oh, so we’re going to do this now? I was just attacked by a mad man, covered in plague blood, and left naked in the woods. You’re not even going to ask me if I’m all right before you start questioning me?” She winced. Her tone was harsher than she had meant it to be.
Zad choked. “Naked in the woods?”
She threw her hands in the air, “Is that all you got out of that? Really? You are such a pig!” she yelled, throwing herself down onto the armchair next to Zad.
She heard a throat clear. She’d forgotten about the shopkeeper. “If you will excuse me, I have some things I need to attend to,” he said quietly, dismissing himself.
They watched him hobble off before turning their gazes to the fire, neither of them speaking. Finally, Zad sighed, breaking the silence first, “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “As much as I would love to hear about your naked adventure in the woods, I need to hear about you, this mission, and your bloody immunity.”
Sephera turned to look at him. He seemed exhausted and worried. Always worried. There was no use in keeping any of this secret any longer, so she told him and the others about her mission—the Shasakar, her conversation with Baal,
and her encounter with Valessa. At the mention of the Keeper’s name Brenner's face went white, and he excused himself for bed. Zad and Chantry listened intently, nodding and exchanging glances occasionally. When she finally finished, the fire was nearly out. The small flames struggled to catch the remaining charred wood, leaving ghostly shadows on both the walls and their faces.
“So you and Daegan are immune? Do you know why?” Chantry asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I don’t, but I have a feeling the answer to that question was in that letter. We could ask Daegan, but I figure we would have more success if we found the letter.”
“I suppose you're right. Maybe he will open up more eventually. He definitely is a mystery,” Chantry murmured, deep in thought. The fire made her golden eyes dance with light. She tore her gaze away from the dying embers. "There isn’t much we can do tonight, and I’m exhausted. See you at dawn.”
Sephera watched her walk away, wishing there was something more to hate about the girl. But Chantry had accepted her story and seemed determined to help her get answers. She was frustratingly helpful.
Zad looked at her intently. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier, Seph? Why did you hold all of this in? You could have shared the burden. I told you I am always here. I’m not going anywhere.” His voice dropped off.
Shrugging, she put her head in her hands. “Honestly, this has all been incredibly overwhelming. I didn’t know how to tell you, and I didn’t want to worry you.”
He clucked his tongue. “I know, I know. You like to suffer alone, brooding in the corner. I’m surprised you and Daegan don't get along better, you're so similar.”
“We are not! I am nothing like him.” She threw a pillow at him.
He tried to dodge the pillow, shooting awkwardly out of his chair, but his foot caught on the leg.
“OW!” he yelled as he fell.
Sephera laughed. At first, Zad looked annoyed, but then he started laughing, too. She went over and lay down on the floor next to him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she whispered.
“Me, too.”
She gazed into his warm grey eyes, eyes she had known for years, eyes that told her she was safe, that told her that with him, she was home. She felt the knot in her stomach release slightly. Zad reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He rested his hand on her face. Then he brought his face closer to hers. The knot in her stomach returned instantly. She sucked in her breath as he parted his lips, moving closer to hers.
“And here I thought you two were just friends. Yet you desire her, even when she reeks of shit.” Daegan stood at the door, looking amused.
Sephera jumped to her feet, tucked her hair behind her ear, and bowed clumsily. “Excuse me. I am going to retire to my room. Daegan . . . Zadkiel.” She fled the room.
She ran up the stairs to her bedroom, not stopping until the door was locked behind her. She sank down, resting her head on the old wooden door, her eyes closed in angry confusion. She brought her knees to her chest. Oh gods, what was he thinking? He couldn’t do this, not now, not ever! He’s my family, not . . . not . . . She couldn't even finish her thought. She sat still for a few minutes. Footsteps sounded in the hallway. She sucked in a breath when they stopped outside her door. She knew Zad had rested his hand against the other side. She sat quietly, listening to him breathe. She bowed her head in relief when he finally removed his hand and retreated to his room down the hall.
She grabbed her bag, pulling out some fresh dressings and ointment for her wounded hand. She had done her best to ignore the pain, which had been slowly pulsing from her wound all night, but with the adrenaline starting to wear off, the pain was increasing. She needed to clean it properly before stitching it. She opened a vial of golden liquid. The cleanser had an appalling odor, though she was sure she stank just as much as it did. Carefully, she poured it onto her palm. She grimaced as the liquid bubbled and foamed around the wound purging it of dirt and infection. She approached the wash basin, filling it with water from the jug on the wooden stand nearby. Then she gently took a piece of cloth and dabbed at the wound. It stung horribly, and she bit her lip. When she was sure the wound was clean she lit a candle and started to thread a needle.
Her stomach twisted as she pierced her skin with the needle. She always hated this part. Baleem never let anyone else stitch her up when she was wounded. She had to do it herself. She had several ugly scars, reminders of when her young, inexperienced hands had feebly tried to stitch her own wounds. Eventually, after much trial and error, she had learned how to fix a wound properly, though she never grew to hate it less. The mending of flesh always made her feel sick. Flesh was meant to be split apart, not fused back together. It was, however, a necessary evil. She finished the last stitch and brought her dagger to the string, cutting it. Then she used her teeth to help tie a knot before wrapping her hand in fresh dressings.
Exhausted, she dropped onto the straw bed next to Chantry, envisioning all the ways she could kill Daegan and make it seem like an accident.
CHAPTER 12
She drifted into a restless sleep, dreaming of a shadowy abyss filled with gnashing teeth and black ichor. Shadow creatures stalked her, never getting too close, but always watching her. Diseased men and women chased her through forests to the edge of cliffs. Everyone she knew was piled up dead around her, black sludge encasing them. She tried to run, but she had nowhere to go.
“Sephera! Sephera, my dear, listen to me,” Valessa called.
She opened her eyes with a start, trying to shut the woman out, but found herself on a grassy hill. Through the dense fog that surrounded the hill, she could make out a few figures creeping noiselessly around her.
“Hello? Valessa? Where are we?” she asked, searching the vast void.
“Your mind, dear girl. Your dreamscape.”
“What? How is that—”
“Possible? Well, you called for me. An old magic that has not been seen on this earth for five hundred years is awakening, turning the impossible into the probable. I do not mean to frighten you, but I need to speak with you.”
“I have nothing to say to you, Valessa. You have done nothing but toy with me, and your vague answers make me question everything even more. Let me out of here!”
“It's your dream, Sephera. You can leave if you want to. I’m sorry for how I have handled our past meetings. I assure you, we will not meet like that again.”
“No? You will just show up in my head instead? Where is the letter from Baleem? I know you have it! What did he write that you didn’t want me to know?”
The ground around them began to shake.
“We don’t have much time, Sephera. Don’t trust him!”
“Don’t trust who?”
The world around her grew dark, the mist becoming so thick she could no longer see her own hand. The ground shook so violently that Sephera fell and tumbled down the hill.
“Sephera! Sephera! Wake up, damn it! Wake up!”
She opened her eyes to see Brenner and Chantry standing over her, looking frightened.
“What happened?” she asked.
“You were having some sort of fit, tossing and turning and moaning like you were in pain,” Chantry said, eyes still widened in alarm. “I couldn’t wake you, and then Brenner showed up. He helped pull you out of whatever nightmare you were lost in.”
She sat up, her head heavy with fatigue. “I’m sorry for waking you. Chantry, Brenner, thank you.” Brenner nodded and left the room.
Chantry held out a hand and helped her to her feet. “Don’t mention it. We might as well get up now.” She sighed.
They dressed quickly and brushed and braided their hair. Then they packed their bags and headed downstairs to get some breakfast. Daegan was brooding over some maps with a disheveled Zad. They didn't look up when she and Chantry entered, which was a blessing. Sephera didn’t know if she could face Zad just yet, especially on an empty stomach. She ate her eggs and oats quickly and
headed outside to get some air. She sat near the town square, watching the sun rise. Brenner sat down next to her, offering her an apple. She took it gratefully, always happy for more food.
“Good morning, and thanks again for helping me.”
The mage nodded and gestured to her hand.
She held up her bandaged hand, “Oh, I’m fine. I cleaned it out and stitched it last night. It should heal nicely now.” She smiled.
Brenner held his hands up against her arm and looked at her intently.
“You want to heal me?”
He nodded.
“All right. I suppose you can, if you want to.”
The mage removed the bandages. The skin beneath it was swollen and starting to scab. He took her small, calloused hand in his large smooth ones, and she felt heat and pressure. It stung, but only a bit. When he removed his hands, the wound was gone. There was no trace that it had ever been there, not even a scar.
She raised her eyebrows and let out a small laugh, “Thank you,” she said softly, looking up at the mage's face. It was soft, and his smile was contagious. She flushed and smiled back. His eyes were kind. She hadn’t noticed before, but they were the most gorgeous shade of blue that she had ever seen. They looked like heaven. She shook her head, mesmerized by him. Then a small bark interrupted them. A fluffy head poked out of a pack on Brenner's back. She couldn't help but laugh. Brenner smiled and reached for the hound.
“I am pleased you made it through the night, Dorjan.” She patted the pup on his massive, black head.
“He looks much better today. Thank you for healing him.”
The pup barked in agreement. She sat and played with the dog, laughing as it licked her face.
“Are you ready?” Zad interrupted. “We have a long day ahead of us.” He still would not meet Sephera’s eyes. She handed the pup to Brenner, who put him back into the pack. Then the others joined them. They followed Zad out of the village to the base of the mountain. They gazed at the tall, majestic creations in front of them. They were beautiful and covered in brush, the trees green and pristine. Sephera peered at the fog-shrouded mountaintops. It was a long way up and a long way down. Once they started up the path, there would be no turning back. Zad let out a deep breath and took a step forward.
