DEVIL’S ROW

by Serafini, Matt

  “Of course it is. It’s all so profound. Will you tell me next that the sky is blue?”

  “Slag off.”

  “No, by all means, let’s talk about your viewpoint. Do you feel comfortable with that conclusion in the light of all we’ve seen? When a woman turns into wolf? When creatures that thirst for blood hunt us? Why must you go on pretending that things are precisely as they were before you took on this march? What good is life if you don’t adapt to it?”

  There was silence then, and Sebastian realized that he was hanging on every word, resisting sleep because of it. Maybe he didn’t want to ask Garrick if there were forces of good beyond this world, but he desired an answer all the same.

  “Anyway,” Garrick said as Timothy sat in stumped silence. “You’ll get no argument from me. Because of the church, man is no longer interested in self-sufficiency. He’d rather ask the heavens to solve his problems, no matter how obtuse. 'God, let me find something with which to wipe my arse,' that sort of shite.”

  “I’m having a hard time understanding you then,” Timothy said. “Before we joined, I would’ve said that religion keeps man distracted from the realities of his life. What you just said. Because let’s face it, the existence of God cannot be proven, and those who make baseless claims on the contrary belong in a sanitarium.”

  “And now?” Garrick’s tone smacked of inevitability. “Does it have to be one or the other? Too much tobacco will kill you, so should we never smoke it? Isn’t it possible to have a little faith without looking to the sky for every inconvenience?”

  The air in the chamber was confused. Timothy tried speaking, stopping and starting a few times, but succeeded only in making frustrated huffs.

  “Your contempt for me is why, exactly?” Garrick said. “Because I contradict your subscriptions? Make it hard for you to pigeonhole me?”

  “Your hostility is unbecoming and…”

  “As is yours.” Garrick countered before the kid could finish. “Let’s agree that our arrogance is mutually off-putting. Do you know what you really need?”

  “For this to end.”

  There was more conversation, but Sebastian ceased following it. Sleep overtook him, and he dreamt of Tulcea. There, she was youthful once more. Frayed blonde hair, the way he imagined she’d look after a night of furious passion. Dull red lips parted to reveal a forked tongue. Jade eyes sparkled and her irises were half-moons; an exotic creature crawling to him on all fours, a clucking sound from the back of her throat that sounded like mocking laughter.

  But he didn’t care. His heart ached in his chest as she neared. Her body glistened with exotic oil that taunted his senses and made him want to lick her flesh.

  She called out but her words were muted. Her tongue curled and tapped the edge of her lip. He wanted to feel it working across him, easing his nerves as he became a slave to her whims.

  His hand reached for her, stretching until his fingers scuffed the soft flesh of her belly.

  Above them, in the world beyond this one, the tête-à-tête between his companions was reignited, their argument thunderous. Tulcea broke away from him with a tear like a bandage ripped from the skin.

  Sebastian jolted and nearly rolled off the bench.

  “As you can see, this tale of woe is so powerful that even our old friend decided he could not sleep through it.”

  The hunter continued without waiting for Sebastian’s reaction. Through the fire, Timothy’s concentration had never looked more intense. He was interested in what Garrick had to say, perhaps for the first time ever. There didn’t appear to be much disagreement here, though the sound of voices echoing in this open chamber had been more than enough to wake him.

  “The first time I saw the Raven, I was alone and inexperienced. The order doesn’t send us into the fray untried, so for my first assignment, they sent me to your neck of the woods. A cliff-side inn on the coast of Rhossili.” Garrick’s tone regressed into its usual mockery. “Ocean blue waves breaking on unmolested sienna beaches…quite the sight if you can muster a damn for that sort of thing. The sun climbed so high there that it slicked the clay-colored sand with blinding glare. Beauty that makes you believe everything is going to work out just right. Deceiving.”

  Sebastian sat up, mirroring Timothy’s interest.

  “A month passes. I spend it watching every soul who takes a bed on their way to the village of Scurlage. Scrutinized those who hurried past even more, but they turned out to be the ones without the coin to spare. There wasn’t a highwayman in sight to disrupt the tranquility. I dare say that Sebastian would have been bored.”

  “I’d give half my pay for a piece of boredom like that now.”

  Garrick didn’t acknowledge the comment. “You want to pretend the world is a nice place, pup, this is the kind of hamlet you need to settle down in. No easier place for you to put your back to life’s problems, to curl up in your texts and imagine the world as it should be. No one’s going to come along and call you an asshole for thinking like that there.”

  “If you think I’m running from reality,” Timothy said.

  Garrick shushed him with a reflexive turn of his head. Things went quiet and he continued. “A more seasoned man than I would’ve seen it. Fucking hell, I should have at least sensed it. But my blade was dry then, and well, you and I might’ve been better friends at that time. All I knew was what my books had taught me.

  “I passed evenings in the dining hall, nursing my ale while hoping for an interesting ear to bend. I liked the nights when that didn’t happen better. Girl behind the counter, the innkeeper’s daughter, had taken a shining to me. A beautiful sight, truly. Blonde hair to her arse, and teets that swelled up out of her garment. She batted eyes at me every afternoon and asked me to regale her with tales of high adventure. I had none, but that didn’t stop me from talking. When the order takes you, you spend your first years familiarizing yourself with a curriculum of texts, some of them common and others obscure. I plagiarized every outré tale I could recall, positioning myself at the center of each. She adored me more with every passing lie until the temptation was too great. We spent that first night in the cellar storeroom, fucking like the filthy bunnies I hate so much. She left me exhausted and spent on a pile of hay, slinking back to tend desk when the morning came ‘round. Had another go the next night. This time, she was bold enough to knock on my door. On the evenings when we did nothing, I threw my ear to the patrons and gleamed all I could from their travelers’ tales. I would catch her watching me from the corner of the room, hungry eyes undressing me. Men in brothels do not objectify whores with as much lust as she held in those gazes.

  “I do not think any of you are surprised to hear that she grew attached, and asked to accompany me upon departure. The order would sentence me to death for less, so it was never a possibility. Even if it were, considering the amount of lies I told, I’d no chance of keeping them straight. Our classical romance would wilt before we made it out of that horrible country…no offense.”

  Sebastian reached for his flask and shook it. Only a few swallows remained. The fever endured but he couldn’t resist this. In all of their months on the road, the hunter had never spoken this much.

  He’s scared.

  That made Sebastian scared. He took a swig and felt the warmth spread across his chest as he sat and listened.

  “On an especially quiet night, we were about to go for a toss when a horse-drawn carriage clopped near. Before I could register what a peculiar hour for arrival it was, a man covered head-to-toe in black gentleman’s dress entered and requested the most lavish accommodations possible. He then requested supper and took a seat in the thickest shadows, finding a spot where the lantern light couldn’t reach.

  “Miriam brought him a bloody slab of prime rib that dribbled onto the hay-covered floor. I sat across the way and watched him eat it with bare hands. Once he was finished, he merely folded his hands and stared. I never saw his face, but there was an instance where the moonlight, perhap
s reflecting off a rising wave, hit him with just enough glow for me to see his jutting cheeks and parted lips.

  “He was smiling. Grinning as if he could do nothing more. I will admit, pup, that even you would have taken action before I did. So dull was I that I simply rose, dominated by gnawing unease. I wanted nothing more than to sleep, to be rid of that feeling.”

  “How could you not know?” Timothy said. “Even if you were as dull as you say, you have your instinct.”

  That may have provoked a smile from Garrick. His face was as difficult to see as the well-dressed man’s in his story, but his features seemed to lighten, even in the shadows.

  “It’s been my cross to bear,” Garrick said. “I settled into the confines of my room, eager to let the day’s ingestion of wine send me off. Just before dawn, there was a soft knock against my door, and a feminine voice calling me stranger. I cracked it to find soft, blue eyes meeting me in its crevice. I had never seen her before and I didn’t get the chance to say anything. Because she pushed in just enough to touch my wrist and whisper, ‘everyone is dead.’

  “I followed as she led me into the hall. Every door up there had been opened. The guests lay butchered in their beds. Slashed throats, a pitchfork rammed through, pinning others where they slept. I knew at once the well-dressed man was responsible, and that I was going to have to kill him. I unsheathed my blade and started downstairs to find Miriam. A part of me realized that she was dead, though I was not yet jaded enough to leave it to chance.

  “When I was nearly down the steps, the woman took me by the shoulder and whirled me around. The sky outside was just blue enough for me to see her face. She would’ve been stunning if not for the blood that lay across her mouth. She spoke again with such triumph and delight that I realized it was my own put-upon bravado that had doomed the inn. ‘Will you vanquish us like you killed the djinn?’”

  “Djinn?” Timothy said.

  “One of the many tales I offered Miriam. She must’ve been spreading my stories to some of her friends in Scurlage. It was this heroism that brought devils to investigate. I heard a pop from the darkened serving room, and Miriam’s head ran across the floor, bumping against the foot of the stairs, her eyes staring up with blame. I jumped over it and my boots skidded on the blood trail behind her. The well-dressed man lurched from the corner, obscured but still smiling.

  “I knew then that she must’ve thought I would save her. That two monsters were of no consequence to a warrior such as me. Stories of my triumphs only provoked their cruelty.

  “I did the only thing that came natural to me in that moment. Despite all of the training that had conditioned me to do otherwise, despite the silver blade in my sheath that could’ve killed them both, I ran. I ran outside and for their horse and buggy. The sun was only then rising and I knew there wasn’t time enough to retrieve my own animal from the stables. My retreat was hasty and wolves converged from all sides, trotting after me, determined to punish my braggadocio.

  “They never got me. It was Miriam, her father and their customers who’d been made to pay for my transgressions. I swore that I was going to kill her. Years of research, deducting potential eyewitness accounts from every corner of this continent. I knew I would find her again one day, and it wasn’t until those Spaniards started a war with the empire that she came out of hiding. Stories surfaced that she was a boogeyman on the battlefields, turning wounded men into demons just like her. Those tales spread until I couldn’t ignore them. It took another year of hunting in her vicinity before I could get closer still. And the rest you know…”

  It didn’t seem like a natural place to end the conversation, but there was nothing left to be said. The kid stretched back and nodded off first, and Sebastian took his cue shortly after. He heard Garrick stirring for some time, probably trying to bury those awful memories once more.

  When morning came, they gathered their things and rinsed off in the basin. Garrick went off to loot the rear chamber of all glass phials, throwing a handful into the fire. Next went the books bound in dried human flesh, volumes of spells written in a tongue no one could understand.

  Timothy had suggested they keep them to decipher, but the hunter refused. “If we don’t make it back, these cannot fall into the wrong hands. We may not know how to decrypt them, but we cannot take the chance that someone else might.”

  The whole and quartered bodies went next to the fire.

  Once done, they followed the wagon tracks through the rear chamber out into the forest. The land that stood before them was dark, but Sebastian was glad to be out of the mine.

  He wanted to think that the worst was over now that Constanta was just a few short days away. He remained hopeful as best he could, but those prospects were dashed each time he closed his eyes.

  He saw Tulcea there. And she wanted him to go to sleep, so that she could have him again.

  He pushed the image from his mind and continued walking.

  The Constant Wolf

  Part of the wolf remained with her always, even when the animal hid.

  Elisabeth was grateful for that, as it was her only means of hunting while on human legs. The creature’s vision and hearing were incomparable. They kept her human eyes and ears constantly fine-tuned.

  If she couldn’t navigate the forest as a wolf, this was better than nothing.

  Hunter’s musk swirled in the air, swallowed by the mine’s entrance. No mistaking where they’d gone. Concentrated heat stemmed from the depths—raw desire rising like mist. One, if not more of them, was in heat. Elisabeth chewed her lip as she considered this. They had never been lost in each other’s flesh. If they had, their scents would’ve been entwined before now.

  Still, whatever was down there with them dispelled her investigative curiosity.

  It’s something that can kill me, or worse.

  Her reluctance to go where she needed to surprised her. She’d been certain that she no longer cared about living, just as long as the assassins paid for their trespasses, but her attitude wasn’t as cavalier as she’d once thought. The creature in the mine commanded the same magic that Alina wielded. Elisabeth sensed various wards and charms nearby, rifts between this world and the one beyond it, defenses marking this territory as occupied while keeping opponents at bay.

  If dying was the worst thing that could happen to Elisabeth, she might’ve considered the intrusion worth the risk.

  But witches didn’t just kill. They took your body and mind if they wanted them, and harvested your flesh and soul if they didn’t. No amount of vengeance was worth chancing that. It was the last thing Aetius would’ve wanted. His death needed as much purpose as she could give it—an admittedly selfish need that rose from her desire for placidity.

  Elisabeth picked up on a strand of particularly cool air, a crisp gust hovering outside of the drafty adit. There had to be another way in, and she walked off to find it.

  Her trip around the mountain lasted nearly as long as the evening.

  Because Alina had interrupted her sleep, Elisabeth’s desire for rest superseded her penchant for revenge—at least while the familiar one and his companions were entombed with the witch. There was nothing to do but wait, and her body required rest. True, they might never make it out of there, but she wouldn’t underestimate them, either. She’d be waiting at the exit, rooting for their emergence. Her fingers flexed around the dagger while her mind drifted through blood fantasies. Her eyelids were on weights that drew down over her vision. Her march became a barely conscious shamble on jelly legs.

  If this sorceress is even half as powerful as the queen, they’ll die, robbing me of my purpose.

  It was her past experiences that colored these thoughts. She’d watched one of their own, a wolf with the same gift of invulnerability, get pulled apart by sorcery when she was but a pup herself. Alina’s magic hadn’t protected the young man, a fledgling called Ben, from being unraveled like sweater string until only his innards remained in a roadside pile of mush.

&nb
sp; They’d set upon a lone traveler, looking for a quick kill, just as pup wolves might stalk rabbit ahead of a pack hunt. They were oblivious to his cursed aura, sensing only an easy meal. Simple prey. As wolves, they closed in on the walker and discovered he’d been ready, whirling to greet them with a face that looked to have been stripped from his skull and then reapplied with hasty patchwork.

  His hand shot up in front of his face, wiggling his fingers toward the sky. His tips were stretched and pointed, and coils of skin had been peeled off the appendages like a potato. The bone beneath looked swollen, inhuman. When he opened his mouth, a wide eye somehow glared at them from the back of his throat.

  Ben’s body frayed beside hers. In the time it took Elisabeth to turn her head, he’d become the floor of a butcher’s shop. "We rub our backs in search of the wings we never had," the mage had said. "For I reached into the sky and found nothing but clouds." Laughter rolled over her startled scream.

  His own flesh, or what he wore as his own, was crassly stitched across his cheeks, chin, and forehead, pieces of varied color that created a jarring jigsaw pattern. His words became a mantra of such alarm that Elisabeth had scampered away like a wounded animal. It had taken most of the night to outrun those words, and even now her heart pounded as she remembered them.

  As she paralleled the mine, holding her breath so not to disturb the creature that nested there, she could think only of her growing discomfort being this close to one who held that power.

  Why’d I refuse Alina’s offer?

  She hadn’t been tempted by the queen, but her invitation was something. Being in the wilderness alone only cultivated her resentment and despair.

  It was difficult to think about Alina now. Rather than dwell on what could’ve been, Elisabeth tortured herself over what had been lost. A few weeks ago, Aetius had the most wonderful surprise for her. She tried to bask in those memories while she moved, forgetting about the magic and thinking about the way his voice had sounded then.