Then I heard them. My pursuers’ voices carried easily though the woodland. I could even hear their footsteps tromping through the brush. They were still behind me, but they were getting too close.
“She went this way…”
“Here…look…footprints turning left…”
“Stay on the path. We’ll get her, and then we’ll kill the witch and take the stone.”
I didn’t recognize the voices, and I didn’t care. The voices were getting louder, the footsteps closer. I struggled through the wet ground, and when I found harder soil I was able to run faster.
I ran until I was finally too exhausted to take another step. I stumbled through a thick patch of weeds and into a rushing stream.
“Thank the Creator!”
The icy-cold water stung my face and neck as I splashed the glorious water over me. I was waist deep. I washed some of the grime off me, and I drank long and deep. I trudged up and out of the stream on the other side, but my strides were slow and heavy because my wet clothes added unnecessary weight. It hadn’t been such a good idea to plunge into the stream, but it was too late now to second-guess myself.
As I stood twisting the water from my cloak, something stung the back of my neck. I reached back and felt a lump.
“That hurt, you little shits—”
I held my breath and went cold with fear. I felt a presence. I went for my sword, but it was already too late.
Something hard hit me in the back on the head, and I pitched headfirst into a tangle of sharp branches. I spit the dirt from my mouth and whirled around.
I recognized what he was even in the darkness. A red monk, an assassin from the temple, stepped out of the shadows of the forest.
CHAPTER 27
HIS BRIGHT RED ROBE stood out like a light in the gloom. I had never seen a red monk before, but I had seen the mutilated bodies they left behind. I’d always wondered why professional assassins would choose to wear such a bright color. His wool gown was tied around the waist with a simple rope, and soft light reflected off the shaven bald spot on the top of his head. Monks called the shaven spot the blessing because it symbolized a direct connection with the Creator. If I didn’t know better I would have assumed that he was an ordinary monk.
But these monks were such skilled killers that it didn’t really matter what color they wore, since no one ever lived to tell. He wore a glove fashioned with the talons of some beast on his right hand. Red monks were the notorious assassins. I’d never heard of anyone surviving after a monk had been unleashed to kill them.
I struggled to my feet and stumbled at the pain that throbbed in my neck. Those bloody horseflies left a nasty large welt.
I looked into the fury of the monk’s eyes.
“Why did the high priest send you? I’ve got the stone. I got it. I was on my way to bring it back.”
My anger boiled up to the surface. “I haven’t told anyone of our arrangement, if that’s what you’re worried about. Everything is exactly like we agreed.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
I frowned.
“Stop speaking in riddles, monk. Tell me why you’re here, and stop dicking around!”
He looked amused. “I can’t let you live, being what you are.”
“What the hell does that mean?” My voice rose, and I motioned towards the bag tied at my waist.
“I did what he asked. I got him the bloody stone!”
Deep down I had known all along that the high priest wouldn’t let me live. I’d been kidding myself. What else had he lied about? My blood froze, and I felt sick. Rose…
The monk looked at the bag around my waist, and I saw a flicker of stifled admiration that disappeared quickly. “Yes. Impressive for a woman. You must have been lucky.”
“Lucky?” I spat furiously. “It wasn’t luck, you prick.”
He laughed, and I could feel waves of contempt coming off of him like heat.
“Always so dramatic and emotional, you women are all the same. You are pathetic, weak creatures that need to be tamed and conquered.”
I narrowed my eyes. I wanted to kill this bastard.
“It’s obvious you know nothing about women. We are certainly not weak.”
I moved my right hand carefully towards my sword.
The monk’s face was blank and emotionless. I saw only contempt in his eyes.
“All women are the property of the temple,” he continued like this was a well-known fact. “No matter what their station.”
I thought that if Princess Isabella were still alive, she would beg to differ.
“The noble women are not the property of the temple, or have you forgotten the treaty that you signed with the kingdoms. I’m sure the noble women from Espan would have your head if they heard you talk like that.”
“Things are changing. Soon, it won’t matter if you’re wealthy, highborn, or simply from the Pit like you. All women will belong to the temple priests. You’ll see.”
“See what? You spineless dick.”
“Women have always been inferior to men in every way. A woman is nothing more than a handicapped version of a man. You have smaller brains, weaker muscles, and you are submissive and unable to think rationally or logically. You are too emotional and lack the intelligence to rule and govern. You only have two purposes in life: to breed and to bring pleasure to men.”
I wanted to cut out his tongue and feed it to him.
“You know nothing about women. And what would you know about pleasure? Everyone knows that you monks have been castrated. You are nothing more than ball-less tools of the temple.”
I looked at the spot between his legs, and I smiled.
“You’re not even a real man. And you probably have to force yourself on a woman because let’s face it, what woman would have you naturally?”
I laughed. “You’re a freak. You monks are nothing but the temple’s bastards.”
His face darkened, and his lips grew taut. He drew a long silver sword. “You’ll die for that.”
I glowered and pulled out my sword. “We’ll see.”
The monk charged faster than I had anticipated. I blocked his sword with the broad side of my blade and managed to avoid the sharp edges. I could smell his rancid breath as I leapt back. I parried his next blows and looked for an opening while I tried to stay alive. But I never saw an opening. Every time I struck, he had already moved his sword to counter my attack. It was like he had anticipated my every move before I had even thought of it.
I dodged as the great silver sword came swinging at my head. He struck unnaturally quick, and I barely had time to block and recover. I was tired from the running and from the lack of food, and I felt my strength failing me. My neck burned where I had been bitten, and I could feel the welt growing down to my shoulders and onto my collarbone.
I rotated my blade and parried, then feinted to the left, coming to his right side and striking out hard—but I only hit air. He caught me on my thigh, and I cried out. I spun around and blocked a killing blow that would have decapitated me. I managed to jump clear, and did my best to ignore the throbbing in my thigh.
He hesitated for a moment when he saw the golden light that spilled out through the gash on my thigh.
“Damn you, witch!” he hissed at me. “I’m going to enjoy watching you die.”
He dropped his blade and attacked my injured leg. I spun, but he rammed his sword into my gut. I opened my mouth in a silent scream as he pulled away. Blood poured out of my wound for an instant, but then it slowed. Another inch to the left and I’d probably be dead. Although my leg wound had already healed, the wound in my gut needed a little time to seal itself, and I knew I couldn’t keep getting wounded like this. I needed to find a way to end it now. My sword was getting heavier and heavier, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to wield it at all soon. Witch or not, I wasn’t immortal. I was tired.
“I want to see your face as you die, witch,” hissed the monk. “I want to be the last thing you see before you m
eet the Creator.”
A dizzy spell came over me, and his face blurred. I shook the white spots from my eyes and thrust my blade into his side.
But my sword faltered and didn’t pierce the monk’s skin.
“Did you think your miserable weapon could harm me?”
The monk laughed. “You might have some skill with the blade, but you’re no match for a red monk, woman. And now you’re out of time.”
He snarled, and I could see and smell his sharp brown-stained teeth.
In a flash of red, and before I could react, the monk surged towards me again, thrashing wildly. I could only bound back and deflect his blow with my sword. He was a blur. How could a natural man move so fast? It was impossible. There was no way a normal man could move that way. It was almost as though he was magic.
The world around me became foggy. I threw out my arms to steady myself, but the ground wavered at my feet.
“Told you I would kill you,” laughed the monk.
Pain from my neck and collarbone seared through me.
“What—what is this?” I felt the numbness from the bite on my neck spill down my arms and legs. I had to strain to keep my sword in my hands.
“You will die eventually,” said the monk, and he curled the talons of his gloved hand.
“The poison is already working through you.”
I realized with horror that I hadn’t been bitten by a giant horsefly but rather stung by his clawed glove. I reached up and touched the back of my neck.
“Poison doesn’t kill me.”
He smiled wickedly. “This is no ordinary poison.”
I couldn’t keep this up. He would kill me eventually.
“I’ll make you a deal,” I said, trying not to sound desperate.
The monk laughed. “I don’t make deals.”
I shook my head, trying to clear the blurry vision.
My voice trembled, “I’ll disappear. The high priest will never know you didn’t kill me.”
“But I will kill you,” the monk smiled darkly. “Like I said, I don’t make deals.”
He made to move towards me, and I stepped back.
“I’ll give you the stone,” I blurted.
He stopped and studied me for a second.
“That’s right,” I said, and I dropped my sword to my feet.
“I’ll give you the stone, all right. I’ll give it to you.”
I unfastened the bag at my belt and pulled out the golden cage. I popped open the lid and slipped the stone into my hand. It was hot.
“Here, take it. That’s what you came for, isn’t? Take it, and I’ll go. The high priest will think you’ve killed me. I’ll disappear, and you’ll never see or hear from me again.”
He hesitated. The temptation to possess the stone consumed him. I could feel the stone’s pull reaching out to the monk.
“Yes,” he said, nodding strangely. “The stone is mine. It has always been mine. I can feel its power.”
Suddenly, his smile disappeared.
“Give it to me,” he ordered.
“Catch.” I tossed him the stone and took several steps back.
The monk caught the stone easily. He dropped his sword and held the stone in the air, staring at it lovingly, adoringly.
“It’s mine. The stone is mine! It’s—”
But he didn’t finish his sentence. He glowed bright yellow and then shattered like glass.
This time I’d been far enough away not to get hit with bits of him. I reached into the liquid mess that had once been a monk and picked up the stone.
After I’d rubbed it clean with my cloak, I slipped it back into its cage and secured it in my pouch. I was relieved to feel its warm pulse against my skin.
The others would still be coming for me, and I had wasted precious time battling the monk, but I staggered and nearly fell as I tried to start running again. I knew the effects of whatever poison he’d used would eventually wear off, but it was hard to concentrate.
When the masked man had poisoned me I had recovered, but somehow I knew this poison was different.
My vision blurred, and I saw images of men and women dying, creatures eating children, oceans of blood, maggots, darkness, and the dead rising. I was cold and hot all at once. I fell to my knees and vomited a black liquid that wasn’t blood. What was happening to me?
Cold seeped through my skin, and my mouth tasted as bitter as raw onion. My tears felt like hot iron on my face, and my pulse roared in my ears. I watched in horror as some kind of black ink spread under my skin and filled my veins. My arms and hands were covered in thick black threads. What kind of poison could do this?
The nausea hit me again and I vomited. I tried to stand, but the ground shifted. The trees zoomed past me, and I felt like I was running around, but I wasn’t. I closed my eyes in an attempt to keep the dizziness at bay, and I fought off another wave of nausea.
I heard the sound of leaves and branches crunching under the weight of feet. I heard the rustling of the brush and then muffled voices. They seemed to be coming from all around me. I kept my eyes closed and focused on the noises. They were getting louder and louder. My heart pounded in my ears. Was another red monk coming to finish the job? Or was one of my competitors out to kill me?
“Elena?”
I opened my eyes and nearly cried out in relief.
Prince Landon stood over me, watching me as if he hadn’t expected to find me. I could barely make out the faces of the five men standing behind him. He stared at the mess of blood and the chunks of flesh on the ground beside me.
When his gaze returned to me, I couldn’t understand the look in his eyes.
“L-Landon …” I breathed.
I retched again and a thick liquid dribbled down the sides of my mouth.
“I’m sick. Help me. I think I’m dying.” I was crying now.
I wanted to fall into his arms and let him make everything all right again. I opened my mouth to speak, but I was hit with another violent fit of nausea. I fell forward on my hands and puked.
“We thought we’d lost you.”
I was so happy to hear Landon’s voice so close.
“We’ve been tracking you for hours. We thought we’d lost you for good, until we saw the light.”
I wanted to ask what light, but another sick feeling rushed through me so powerfully that my muscles slackened like I was made of water. I had no strength. I swayed to the side, my arms shook, and I knew I couldn’t hold myself up for much longer.
I raised my head, and with some effort I reached out to him with my right hand.
“Landon.”
He moved towards me with his hands outstretched.
I wanted to feel his warmth again. I was so cold. I wanted him to hold me, to take me to his healers and mend me. I closed my eyes and willed myself to feel better.
But I never felt his hands wrap around me. I never felt the warmth of his body against mine. He didn’t take my hand.
I gave a little gasp as the prince untied the pouch at my waist and took it away with the stone inside it. He dropped the small pouch into a larger leather one and clasped it securely around his baldric.
I was too horrified and too hurt to speak. I struggled with words that wouldn’t come.
Finally, I said, “Landon … what are you doing … please … help me…”
He looked at me. Was it pity in his eyes?
“I’m sorry, Elena,” he said without emotion. “But this is more important than you can ever understand. The high priests promised to give me back my title and my lands if I brought them the stone. Think about all the good I can do. I can rebuild the Pit and remove the caste system. I’ll even put a stop to the concubines. Think of that. Our people, yes Elena, our people will heal. I have to do what’s best for my kingdom. I hope you can understand that. You would have done the same thing.”
I opened and closed my mouth. I couldn’t speak.
Trembling with heartache, I finally managed to mumble through my tears a
nd spit, “Landon, I don’t care about the stone. Just find me a healer.”
But there was no kindness in his eyes anymore. I wasn’t sure there ever had been. He looked as cold and bitter as a harsh wind.
“I wish things could have been different between us. I’m sorry.”
He turned on his heel and left.
The world went spiraling out of control. My heart had been shattered by a man whom I’d come to care about. The last of my strength gave way, and I fell face down into my own vomit.
I sobbed. “Landon?”
I cried, reaching out to him, heaving my body across the ground with my hands. But he didn’t come back. He had chosen the stone, and he had chosen to let me die. I thought we’d shared a connection, but I was wrong.
I watched through my tears as he disappeared into the tangled woods. My hand fell lifeless to the ground, and I felt my heartbeat slowing down until I couldn’t hear it anymore. Maybe I should die. Maybe I deserved it.
When the darkness finally came, I let it take me.
CHAPTER 28
THE VOICES CAME ALL at once, muffled, like they were far away, like in a dream. They shifted and changed, growing louder. They were shouting. I tried to tell the voices in my dream to go away, to let me go with the darkness, but my voice wouldn’t come. The darkness lifted, and the voices neared.
“Don’t touch her! She’s a witch. She’ll hex you,” said a man’s voice.
“You heard what the others said. She’s a magic bearer. That can only mean she’s a witch.”
“If you touch her you’ll be cursed forever,” said another man, and I heard someone spit.
“I’m telling you, you’ll be under her spell like a slave. You’ll be the slave of hell. Everyone knows witches are the Devil’s whores. She’ll probably curse our families too. Is that what you want? Is it?”
“Damn it, Jon,” said the other voice again. “Just leave her. She’s probably dead anyway. Look at her.”
“She’s not dead,” roared a different voice with authority.
I felt something brush my neck and then press on my skin.
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