CHAPTER 18
THE CREATURE CAME AT me so fast that I barely had the time to lift my arms and block the attack. But still, I wasn’t fast enough.
My right arm burned with pain as I spun around with my blades out in front of me and slashed at the beast. I jumped back, and it let out a shriek that chilled me to the bones.
I didn’t wait to see how badly I had injured it. I veered away and dashed in the opposite direction.
It caught me by the edge of my cloak. I heard a rip and fell head first into the ground. The creature roared, and it lunged for me again. I could see black blood oozing from the wound across its abdomen, but I hadn’t cut deeply enough.
We were both injured now. I leapt to my feet. My arm burned where three sharp claws had sliced through the sleeve of my tunic. My skin was already swelling with infection and discharged a yellow liquid that mixed with my blood and smelled of rotten flesh. The thing had venom in its talons.
My breath came fast and hard, but I felt the warmth of my healing powers fighting the infection, and I prayed to the Creator that I’d heal fast enough to survive the next attack from this monster.
The mist cleared, and the creature hesitated for a moment so that I had time to examine it more closely. It stood over six feet tall, upright like a man, but hunched over. It had long gnarled arms that nearly grazed the ground with a thicket of coarse gray fur that covered its crooked, misshapen body. Its gleaming skull was bare except for sparse clumpy tufts of fur. Its rough body was crisscrossed with scars that looked as though they had been ripped open over and over again and had never healed. Its broad brutal face with a flat nose, large twisted maw, and glaring red eyes shone with intelligence and hunger. There was nothing remotely human or even warm blooded about it. This thing was dead and rotting. Strips of pink flesh hung from its talons, and I thought I was about to be sick again.
I was in such a panic that I couldn’t breathe. I could hardly move.
Could I kill it? The fighting skills I’d acquired in the Pit would not be enough to defeat this nightmare.
Where were the others? Had the others escaped? I was sure that Mad Jack had called out to me from somewhere nearby.
The monster and I faced each other alone in the small clearing.
A gurgling escaped from the creature’s throat, and when it opened its jaw, I could see rows of brown fish-like teeth. Then four fanged tentacles writhed out of its mouth and lashed towards me.
I flailed with my weapons in the attempt to cut them, but the tentacles grabbed me, and sank their sharp fangs into my arms and legs. They wrapped around my waist and lifted me in the air. I screamed as the poison from the tiny fangs entered my blood stream and burned like liquid fire. The tentacles squeezed my body and crushed my lungs. I opened my mouth to cry out, but vomited from the smell of rotten flesh instead. I could feel the suction of the tentacles pulling at my skin. I felt weak and nauseated again, and I could see that the creature was drinking my blood.
I was horrified. I could heal from cuts and deep gashes, even from some poisons, but I knew my healing abilities couldn’t replace buckets of my blood.
I was going to die.
My head fell forward as my loss of blood sapped my energy. I couldn’t hang on to my thoughts.
Miraculously my blades were still in my hands. Whether the Creator had decided to help me, or the thing didn’t bother to disarm me, I didn’t care. I gripped my blades with all the strength I had left and hacked at the tentacles in one powerful upward slash. I heard a shriek as my blades tore into its flesh.
It retaliated, and I hit the ground hard with a horrible snap. A shock wave of pain shot up my left arm. I could see that my arm lay in an awkward position, and I could no longer feel my hand.
But I didn’t have time to dwell on it. Just as soon as I hit the ground, I was up again. I could see a tangle of severed tentacles at my feet as I fought the nausea that washed through me.
The thing came at me. It was crazed and slammed into me, pitching me hard to the ground again. But I could feel that the poison was leaving my body, and I felt rejuvenated. I rolled back onto my feet just in time to block a clawed hand that had come within inches of my eyes. It was so close that I felt the icy numbness of death.
I knew I couldn’t risk the creature taking any more of my blood. That would finish me.
I kicked out hard and caught the creature in the knee. I heard a satisfying snap and the thing staggered back.
The beast lunged again, but this time I was faster.
My left arm was a useless weight at my side, but I still had one good arm and my wits.
I drove my blade into the creature’s open maw and ignoring the razor sharp teeth that cut into my hand, I pushed my blade all the way into its brain. The creature went limp and crumbled to the ground.
I kicked it once, nudged it, but it didn’t move again. Was it dead? Did the dead stay dead? I reached down and pulled out my dagger.
I took a minute to examine my left arm. I had never suffered any broken bones before, so I didn’t know what to expect. I pressed and squeezed around my forearm where I believed the break to be, but felt nothing out of the ordinary. And as I stood there examining my arm, I felt my feeling return.
It was still pretty stiff. I’d have to be careful with it until it completely healed.
An anguished cry echoed through the mist, followed by a series of blood-curdling howls. The air was filled with the clang of metal hitting flesh and bone. I heard another muffled cry, and then the sound of flesh tearing, but the ominous silence that had made my insides cringe was gone. What was happening?
I rushed blindly through the impenetrable mist, following the sounds. A thin, damp layer of film coated my face and clothes. I stumbled clumsily over rocks and leapt over fallen trees and chunks of stone, straining to see through the fog. I barely kept my footing as I slipped on mist-covered rocks and grass.
I was going to break my own neck if I continued this way. I skidded to a halt and listened.
“Hello? Mad Jack?” I called out into the fog.
I turned on the spot. “Is anyone out there? Can you hear me?”
I heard a noise a few yards in front of me. It sounded like the shuffling of feet.
My heart raced, but I waited. Was this another trick of the mist?
I knew that if the shuffling feet had been a person, that person would have answered me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I could see a collection of fiery red eyes watching me from the depths of the mist. Only a few trees and shrubs stood between us.
I had been lucky with the first monster, but I didn’t believe I’d get lucky a second time.
I cursed and held my breath as I crouched in a fighting stance.
“Creator, help me,” I breathed.
The creatures barreled over the rocks and through the trees as if they were no more than gossamer curtains. Even the most skilled warrior couldn’t fight these things. They were blessed with supernatural strength, and we were mere mortals. I couldn’t run. I couldn’t hide. They were coming. I swallowed and braced myself. This was going to hurt.
But someone tugged at my arm suddenly
Mad Jack stared at me with wide eyes. “This way! Quickly!” he urged.
I let him pull me away, and I sighed with relief as we ran. How he could see through the mist, how he knew where to go, was a mystery. All I could do was try and keep up with his giant strides. I fell a few times, but his strong arms lifted me as we tore through the haze. He urged me on, faster, and faster, although my thighs burned with every step. I heard the guttural grunts and gurglings of the creatures behind us and ran even faster. My lungs were raw, but I struggled to keep up.
I couldn’t believe our luck when we finally burst out of the mist and into a clearing. Mad Jack stopped running and bent over to catch his breath. I drew my blade in a panic and whirled around to confront the monsters again. But there were only trees and grasses at the edge of the clearing. The wall of mist was yards
behind us, and the monsters didn’t come.
The mist rolled and coiled back on itself as quickly as it had appeared. I could see it clearly now, thinning out and retreating into the bogs from whence it came.
In less than a minute the mist had completely disappeared.
I did a quick head count. More than half the groups were missing. Many of those who had survived were wounded, some more seriously than others. One man, a Fransian was missing an arm. They had managed to bandage it up quite well and stop the bleeding, but I suspected he wouldn’t compete in the race anymore.
But when I searched the grounds, the beaches and the small meadows, there were no bodies. It was as if the creatures had taken them without leaving a trace of blood behind. They were lost.
And that chilled me to the bone.
CHAPTER 19
NOBODY SLEPT AFTER THAT.
Those of us who were left unanimously decided that it would be safer to spend the rest of the night away from the sand dunes. We moved to a large meadow that wasn’t so close to the bogs.
The mood in the camp had changed drastically. The losses had been great, and I suspected that many of the dead had been brothers and sisters of the survivors, family rather than just friends and allies. I watched as they wept for the loss of their loved ones.
The loss of the horses hit hard on everyone as well. We would have to make the rest of the journey on foot. Although I hadn’t been accustomed to riding, I felt the loss of the horses, too. I missed Torak already. That great warhorse had given me a sense of protection. I felt naked and vulnerable now.
I had thanked Mad Jack for saving me. If it hadn’t been for him, I would most likely have been killed or pulled into an unknown fate in the mist. I knew he was trying to make up for betraying me. I could see the guilt plainly on his face now. And he ought to feel guilty about sending me on this hellish journey. I didn’t want to owe anyone any favors, but he had saved me, and I was grateful for that. I knew that he really was sorry now.
I wouldn’t wish our experience in the mist on anyone—except maybe the priests.
I was glad to hear that Landon was amongst the survivors. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was going to say when I spoke with him, but I felt I needed to tell him that Torak might be safe.
I found him in a glen in the forest just as the sun began to rise. The parties hadn’t left yet, and most of them were in a group with Landon. I didn’t know why.
They stood together in the early morning sunlight, atop a grassy knoll that overlooked a glade of pine trees. It appeared the pretty blonde had survived, and she eyed me warily as I approached. But I ignored her and kept my focus on Landon.
He stood with his hands clasped together. His expression was grim, and he looked like he was praying. A woman with long black hair knelt beside him on the stones. I could see that her shoulders were shaking as she rocked back and forth.
Everyone was silent, and they all stared at a small clearing in front of them that was carpeted with stones. Each of the stones was marked with a name.
“What is this?” My words were half-mumbled.
Landon turned around, a look of surprise.
“A graveyard of sorts,” he answered solemnly.
He looked at me sadly. “We have no bodies to bury, so this is purely symbolic. But we need something to remember them by. We must never forget what happened here.”
The little glen was a beautiful place for a graveyard. After last night, it was exactly what it needed to be.
The blonde continued to glare at me, and I was glad that looks couldn’t kill.
“I came here to tell you that Torak’s fine,” I said. “He and the other horses ran off before the mist could reach them. I thought you might want to know, seeing as he was yours once.”
Landon’s face brightened. “Thank you. I’m glad to hear it.”
He pressed his hand on my arm gently, and my face felt warm. “And I’m happy to see that you’re well and still in the race.”
I didn’t know what to say. I was only too aware that we were having a three-way conversation. I smiled and nodded.
His hand remained on my arm.
The blonde cocked her head and rounded on me. “Shouldn’t you be with the rest of your kind, peasant?”
Blood rushed to my face, but I kept my expression blank. After the night we’d all spent together, I couldn’t believe that she would still dismiss me with this type of class snobbery. It was a low blow, even for a highborn woman. It meant that she felt I was a threat, a real threat. It was clear to me that she wanted a fight. It was also clear to me that she wanted me to start it so Landon would see that I truly was a peasant.
I calmed my breathing. An argument was the last thing I needed or wanted.
“Thea,” growled Landon, and he let go of my arm. “There’s no need to be rude. We’re all equals in this race.”
“She’ll never be our equal,” Thea spat.
She smiled and drew herself up to her full height, which was several inches taller than me.
“She looks and smells like the peasant she is. She’s nothing but a priest’s whore. Anyone can see that.”
Her icy stare met mine, and she laughed. “You must have bedded an entire legion of priests to have been given permission to participate in this race.”
“That’s enough, Thea.”
Thea’s winning smile disappeared, and she shrank back into the shadows.
But Landon persevered with her. “Apologize to Elena.”
Her brows narrowed. “I will do no such thing!”
She crossed her arms defiantly.
Landon exhaled an embarrassed breath. “I must apologize for my friend’s behavior. There’s no excuse for her rudeness. I’m sure she meant no offense.”
My jaw clenched. “Yes, I’m sure.”
I turned towards the scowling woman. “But for the record, my lady—I would rather be a peasant and a priest’s whore than socialize with the likes of you.”
I did an exaggerated curtsy and left.
“Elena, wait!”
But I was already walking back towards the spot where I’d left my bag. If Landon socialized with the likes of her, I didn’t want to be near him either. More importantly, I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing that her words truly did hurt. I was a peasant. Although I had been born with nothing and would probably die with nothing, I had a head on my shoulders and more than a whisper of magic in me.
I swung the large bag over my shoulders and set off studying my map.
I made it to the edge of Death’s Arm. There was already a line of people waiting at the edge, but no one had made a move to cross it. It was like they were all waiting for the first fool to venture into the stinking bogs.
Well, let me be the first fool.
I sucked in a breath and moved. The ground was soft and stinky, and I had to pull my boots from inches of gray-green muck with each step. But once I started it was surprisingly easy to keep a steady pace.
I didn’t have to turn around to see that the others had followed in line behind me. I heard their curses and the suction of their footsteps.
We traveled through Death’s Arm for the next six days. The nights became colder, and the days shorter. But nothing attacked us. No monsters came in the middle of the night or during the day. It actually became repetitive and quite boring after a while. From time to time I’d chat with Mad Jack, and his friends from the Pit, Leo and Will. They were the only ones who cared to speak to me. But mostly I kept to myself and kept my senses sharp.
Icy rain dogged us for three days. With each gust of frigid, cutting wind, I wondered when my skin would peel from my face. I was miserable and cold, and I missed the warmth of my small cottage. I missed Rose. More than once I wondered what I was doing here, and many times I contemplated turning back. I tried to convince myself that the high priest would never hurt Rose or my friends in the Pit, that maybe he was bluffing. But I knew I was being foolish.
I kept movi
ng with everybody else, but the heavy weight of responsibility that I felt for everyone back home was wearing me down.
I was soaked through, and my stiff wet toes were frozen. My boots were wet. Everything I owned was wet. I couldn’t change into my spare clothes because they were soaked as well. Each night, I’d wrap myself in whatever dry spot I could find in my tunic and try to rub the feeling back into my toes.
I never imagined that I’d ever find a worse place to sleep than in my cubbyhole under the floor, but this bitter cold and icy rain was much worse.
We were drawing nearer to Goth, and I began to ponder seriously what my plan of action would be once we had arrived there. There were a lot fewer of us now, and we were all solemn and wet, but I was not about to underestimate the capacity for greed of this lot. They were warriors, and if they were anything like Landon, the stone meant a great deal to them. They would do anything to get their hands on it.
I knew there was eventually going to be a great battle between us all, and that the victor would come out with the stone. Battles weren’t my forte. I wasn’t as strong as the Girmanian women, or even as clever or a swift as the Espanians. My best chance would be to steal the stone. I would lie low, hide in the shadows and wait. When my chance came, I would sneak up and pinch it from whoever had it. No one would see me.
It was a horrible plan. But it was the only one I could come up with.
That night I lay staring up at a starless sky. I tried not to think about Thea, but her slights never left me. I had always longed to be something more than just a peasant woman from the Pit. I had always wanted to make something of myself, to own property and make my own living. Her words resonated, and they hurt. I wasn’t sure if they hurt more because Landon had been there, or simply because my pride had been hurt as well. I wanted Landon to think I was more than just a peasant woman. I could be so much more if I were given the chance.
And when finally sleep came, it was a sleep of bitter disappointment.
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