Dark Ember

Home > Other > Dark Ember > Page 12
Dark Ember Page 12

by R. D. Vallier


  I toddled forward. Delano disintegrated. The dark's leather fingers curled over my eyes. I hugged the owl to my chest, my left thumb stroking its head. My right hand slid along earth and stone. Del's with me. Del's with me. Del's with me. This mantra repeated in my head as I continued the path for the third time, coughing. Please let this be three times a charm and not three strikes you're out.

  Rocks tumbled; their echoes rolled in the gloom. My pace curved with the wall, my feet sliding along grit. The rumbling walls sounded distant. Good. Stay away, I thought, as an owl whimpered against my hammering heart.

  Del's with me. Del's with me. Del's—

  Dirt struck my shoulder. I shrieked and nearly leapt from my skin. The mine rumbled and rolled. I clenched my chest, gasping. What will being crushed feel like? I wondered. Would it be fast and painless, like a thumb squishing an ant? Or was the mountain a boot with wide-gapped treads? Maybe it would catch only pieces of my body, making me suffer as I die, the mountain incapable of twisting its toe to grant mercy and—

  Stop being morbid, Miriam! You'll escape. Think positively. Think about Delano. Think about—

  —how he will die. Squashed? Or trapped until nighttime, when he'll emerge in stone, crushed from the inside out?—

  —how much you enjoyed last night.

  The mine roared like the famished stomach of a gigantic beast. Dark. Empty. Eager to devour. Tremors crashed me to my knees and I shrieked. My pinky nail snapped back as I clenched the right wall. Del's with me. Del's with me. I sobbed, and regained my feet. My breathing became shallow panting. I'm not alone. He's with me. I choked on dust and tears, hugged a scared owl who was hacking, hacking, too much hacking. My shoes slid over gravel and—

  WHAP! "Ow!" Stars exploded in the darkness. I stumbled backward, rubbing my forehead. I patted the wall in front of me, feeling stone. "No…" I shoved the wall as if searching for a push-bar on an emergency exit. A dead end? My chest hitched. The ringing softened, amplifying distant avalanches and incoming death.

  Del's with me. Del's with me. Del's—

  Low near the end.

  Delano's words barreled through my panic. I patted along the ground. The stone yawned in front of me. I had expected to stoop. The exit was so low that, crawling, the backpack scraped the ceiling.

  An enormous crash reverberated through the tunnels, as if entire walls now fell. I scurried up the mine's esophagus, my body lurching as I crawled one handed to keep the owl pressed against my chest. The owl was still, still, much too still. I joggled its body, felt it flop. The smoke and dust was too much, and if I hadn't stupidly retraced my steps we'd both be alive. Tears streamed. The mountain roared behind me. The world rolled as if swallowing, trying to choke me down.

  Del's with me. Del's with me. Del's with me—

  The dark parted; my hand peeked through cracks in its executioner glove. The darkness was hardly a shade lighter, but a single shade meant light was present. I crawled. Jeans scraping, tunnel curving, stones poking my palm. Soon the dark blob grew fingers … a wrist … then daylight illuminated a gate.

  "I hope you used matching locks." I fished the key from my pant pocket and shoved it into the keyhole. The gate groaned open.

  I squealed and sobbed and scrabbled out of the mineshaft, as if the sky was my lover and I returned from war. The narrow mine exited onto a hillside of pines and oaks and manzanita. The stinging sunlight was heavy and suffocating. I sighed heavily beneath its crushing magic. Foot massages and bubble baths couldn't feel finer.

  The screech owl coughed and blinked its huge eyes in the blinding light. "Oh thank God." I kissed the top of its head. The owl's right leg was curled against its body, the foot skewed and obviously broken, but otherwise the bird appeared okay. The mountain rumbled behind me, a thunderstorm passing at last.

  I wiped my eyes, grinning so wide my lips ached. "We're okay, baby." I laughed. "We did it! We—!"

  "Took you long enough."

  I swung around. Raina stood above the opening on the hillside. A hoard of sniffers and sentries surrounded her, their fingers curled around their rifles' triggers, ready to hunt.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Raina smiled, her pink lip gloss glistening in the sunshine. "We've come to bring you to the pits."

  For a gruesome heartbeat every cell in my body froze. Then adrenaline burst through and I sprinted down the hill. Dirt and gravel crunched as faeries leapt off the mineshaft in pursuit. My lungs ached as if I had chain-smoked a pack of cigarettes. I pulled light's magic to fly, to flee, to escape, but its songlike quality was too far away. I grasped what I could to launch myself into the air, but the energies snapped like dry sticks, anchoring me to Earth. My heart raced. Behind me, a shotgun racked.

  Please, God. No—

  KA-BOOM!

  Searing spears tore my right leg. My feet flew out from under me; the owl launched into the brush. I rolled, screaming, down the embankment. Pinecones and sticks jabbed. My head whacked a rock, streaking comets across my vision. A snarl of manzanita jolted me to a stop. I wheezed, my thigh burning, pine needles sticking to blood streaming from dozens of holes. Birdshot. For a split-moment I was grateful they hadn't loaded a slug, then realized birdshot was meant to keep me alive for other intentions.

  Terror lurched me to my feet. Pain collapsed me to my knees, wailing. Laughter encroached. The world spun as I clawed the manzanita to gain my footing. Magic felt as frail as cobwebs. I couldn't hear daylight's song or nighttime's whisper. All I heard was life shuffling like a deck of cards, The Dealer ready to flip my hand onto the table.

  A boot slammed my kidney. I sprawled across the ground, my thumb jamming a rock. Turkey vulture shadows circled as the sniffer kicked me onto my back. My eyes widened on his square face, his jet hair, his eyes like chips of sapphire. His white greyhound snarled at his side, the hairs on its hunchback bristled like quills. He was the sniffer who'd helped the Realm betray me. The sniffer who lashed off Orin's wings. The sniffer my night magic nearly crushed.

  Fino grinned when I recognized him. He stroked the coiled whip on his belt. "You should've killed me when you had the chance."

  The sentries swarmed, their rifles aimed at my face. Six turkey vultures landed with a hop, ruffled their feathers, stretched their naked necks.

  Panic shot through my nerves. I felt stupid I'd allowed myself to believe I could live safe or whole or happy, that the Realm wouldn't hunt me down and force me into slavery. Hold it together, I told myself. Be brave. Be strong. Delano is probably freaking out. Don't make it worse.

  Raina knelt beside me, a chickadee on her shoulder. Gold hoops dangled below her earlobes; gold bangles encircled her wrists. Her beige slacks, and silk blouse patterned with cherry blossoms, made her look like an upscale housewife attending a book club, not a hunt. She displayed no badges, wore no combat boots, and held no gun. Yet, somehow, her daintiness and elegance made the sentries and sniffers even more terrifying.

  Raina's knuckles caressed my cheek, the gesture of a loving mother. "See what happens when faeries whore with darklings? The night gets them drunk and they can't protect themselves." Her eyes searched the air. "Tell me, Delano. Did you even pause last night before dragging your darkslut out to obey this miserable world's bidding?"

  My lip quivered. "You … you set me up?"

  "Now you'll watch her, darkslime. Watch her wail when we mark her wings." Raina's sage eyes snapped onto mine. "And when we finish, we'll haul her to your old cell. So every time you think of her, you will know exactly what walls she sobs behind, exactly what corner she defecates in, exactly what stones she sleeps upon." She giggled. The chickadee ruffled its feathers. "And what extras we grant her when the mining hours are done." Raina's grin was all scorpion poison and cactus spines, and I was grateful that, despite my shortcomings, Delano was right. I'd never be like her.

  "String her up," Raina told the sniffers. "I want that disgusting creature to watch her face while she screams."

  The three sniffers
swarmed me, the hems of their cinnamon coats swirling. A man in a stiff, gray uniform leaned against a sugar pine, arms crossed. He leered beneath his brimmed hat as the sniffers ripped off my backpack and knifed off my shirt and bra.

  "Where does my lady want her?" Fino asked as he tightened wire around my wrists.

  "Hmmm." Raina cocked her hip and pressed a manicured finger to her lips, as if selecting curtains for her dining room. "Let's hang her riiiiight there." She pointed at a large oak, its low gnarly branch hanging over the hillside like a gallows.

  Fino clenched my hair and dragged me to the oak. I grunted, pedaling my feet to relieve the pain in my scalp. Wire cut my flesh. The turkey vultures followed with eager hops, hissing and rattling. I kicked as they nipped my toes. My chest was hitching, hitching. Don't panic. Don't please them with begging and crying. Don't add to Delano's torture.

  Fino and another sniffer wrestled my torso and hips. A third sniffer flew into the oak, his hair gleaming the color of Japanese maples, and wired my ankles around the gallows-branch. I faced downhill, making me feel impossibly high. I clenched my jaw to keep my expression blank.

  "How long until sunset?" Raina asked.

  "Approximately six hours," the chickadee chirped from her shoulder.

  Raina clapped her hands, her sandy curls bouncing. "Lovely! We can take this slow."

  I dangled beneath rippled leaves and green acorns, my world turned upside down. A chill snaked through the air, brushed my cheek. The Realm sentries glimmered with magic and destroyed it.

  "Del," I whispered. Wake me up. Let's drink hot chocolate. Let's ditch this nightmare to the pillows and those crevices cruelty has cracked into our minds. But the tea kettle was crushed, the cocoa scattered amid ash and dust, and no amount of massages or melodies could shoo away this nightmare. I fought a cry. Keep your eyes dry. Keep them dry for him.

  Raina giggled. "That darkslime can't help you now. Light is might."

  Anger spat from me like ice water hitting sizzling oil. "Light is lies. You are nothing without your facade."

  "Ignorant child," Raina hissed. The chickadee flapped on her shoulder, regained balance. "Realm life was once brutal and cruel, torn with war and misery and crime. A time I survived while you've enjoyed a mollycoddled American life. You judge our methods, but our people are fed and clothed and have peace."

  "You don't have peace," I sneered. "You have submission, gained through executing or imprisoning anyone who disagrees with their rulers."

  "The only ones executed or imprisoned are the criminals who threaten the society we've all struggled and died for!" Raina said, aghast. "Your type would risk the return of pain and death, and for what? Trite choices? You'd protect the weak, dumb animals on Earth instead of helping your own people. A darkling's disdain for fae life is disgusting, egocentric, and self-destructive, and I refuse to allow such depravity to destroy our people."

  Raina turned away, her hand pressing her forehead as if enduring a migraine. "I can't deal with this anymore. Greeson, give this selfish bitch what she deserves."

  Life's Dealer flipped a card onto the table. The man in the crisp, gray uniform swaggered to me, smirking. His stomach leveled with my face, his golden buttons engraved with crimson Rs. His glare oozed over my body with the dark glint of beetle shells, exposing the type of man he was. He was my neighbor growing up in the Midwest trailer park. The forty-something Coors lover who whined about his welfare checks, whined about his probation officer, but mostly whined about life's unfairness. How he'd be an NFL player if recruiters hadn't been too stupid to recognize his greatness, or a Navy Seal if not for his fibromyalgia. If the Realm promised that neighbor power and prestige in exchange for their dirty work, he'd be this puffed tin soldier. I swallowed hard. For I knew the persona who torched cockroaches with matches and lighter fluid thrived beneath his fancy uniform. His paychecks might afford him cognac, but at home he still slurped it from a Dixie cup.

  Be brave for Del. Be brave for Del.

  Raina's bangles clinked as her hand slid onto the man's shoulder. Her rose powdered eyes scanned the air. "I brought you a present, Delano. Normally sniffers take wings, but I thought allowing your old mining master the honor was more poetic."

  The mining master pinched my cheeks and swiveled my head as if examining an auction horse. "Oh my," he grunted. My thigh's blood soaked my jeans and dripped down my torso. His eyes tried to locate a darkling behind the light. "Beautiful Delano. You know what men do to each other. Imagine what they'll do to her." He pinched and twisted my folded ear. I yelped; his face clouded behind tears. "You enjoy working nights, darkslut? We collected high bills for him after hours. We'll collect more for you."

  My widening eyes made him chuckle. Blood swelled in my head as I realized I didn't face merely imprisonment or slavery. I faced Delano's history, the doorway to his night sweats and terrors. I'm so naive. I had rapped on Delano's memories to glimpse his mind, to connect, expecting his psyche's doorman to answer with whip lashings, agony from wielding a pickax, a scowl for those who'd betrayed him. But forced prostitution? Torture? My tongue thickened and tasted like nickel. Pine needles crunched as sentries shifted their weight. I was a selfish bitch, as Raina stated. I tried to pry into Delano's mind to heal myself, uncaring if his memories made him suffer.

  The mining master leaned in close, a single pore on his nose three times larger than the others. "I'll break you in myself," he said. "And like your boyfriend, I don't care how torn your cute ass is. You will be punished if you fail to meet your mining quotas." My temples pulsed to the rhythm of my racing heart. My eyes widened as he pulled a box cutter from his pant pocket and slid up the blade. "Raina decided whipping is too good for you. So we will carve off your wings, line by line."

  My jaw dropped. The turkey vultures hissed and rattled, hopping excitedly from foot to foot, nipping each other for front row seats. Be brave for Del. Be brave for Del. The hounds panted heavily. The sentries crowded, mostly in the rear to watch the carving of my horrible miner wings. Raina and the sniffers stood in front to watch my face. How fragile life is, I thought, fighting the sting in my eyes. Orin could've been among these sentries, grinning his springtime grin.

  "Let's start with the left wing," the mining master said.

  Sunshine glinted off the box cutter's blade. Delano and dignity flew from my mind. "No! Wait!" I bucked my hips to sway away as he stepped behind me. "Please! I'm sorry! I'm sorry," I said, unknowing what I apologized for, not caring. "I don't want—!"

  "Stop moving!" The master snatched my hair and slammed his knee into my right eye. White exploded; my brain rocked inside my skull. "Your wants are irrelevant, criminal." He released and I swung limp, my head and face pounding. The oak branch creaked. Blood streamed down my thigh and torso, puddling in my armpit. From one slitted eye, I watched Raina scratch the chickadee's chin, and right when I thought my spirit was beaten and all my strength deserted, a blade carved along my spine.

  My scream gurgled inside my throat. The weight of the skin hung heavier and heavier as the box cutter dragged and sawed down my torso. Be brave for Del. Be brave for Del. These thoughts distant and faint beneath wails growing hoarse.

  The carving stopped. My back howled, the air's cold fingers poking the wound where a thin, tribal line once inked. Wet warmth dripped off my fingers. The mining master stepped in front of me, wiping the blade on a handkerchief, and I noticed his uniform was perfect. No wear. No stains. No loose threads. As if his punishments were effortless, the strain and damage reserved for his victims.

  "You see, Miriam. This," he said, wiggling a nine-inch, black ribbon of skin in my swelling face, "granted you a mining career, with set hours, leave, modest accommodations. But your ungratefulness of Raina's generosity means you'll serve the mines as a criminal, like Delano. And like Delano, you'll belong to me."

  The turkey vultures hopped from foot to foot, their feathers shaking in tempo with the death rattles inside their chests. "Twenty-three more lines to go," the m
ining master said, and tossed my flesh to the closest bird, who gobbled it ravenously. I swallowed a mouthful of bile, realizing he and Raina intended to punish me for Delano's crimes as well as my own.

  "Oh, God," I whimpered.

  "God?" The mining master stabbed his forefinger down at my face. "You're looking at your God. You kneel before me. I am the final say and the final judgement and I shall do whatever I want without restriction or punishment. Understand, slave?"

  The oak branch creaked. A chill brushed my face. I imagined Delano, beaten and torn, forced to kneel before a false God in a dank cell, reeking of semen and feces and open wounds. I glared up at the uniformed maggot, my heart a stone inside my chest. "God needs to trim his nose hairs, then."

  Raina gasped as if I'd clubbed him with a lead pipe. The sniffers exchanged glances. Guns rattled as sentries shifted their weight.

  "Wh-Wha-you—" the mining master stammered. Rage creased his face. "You cunt!" I screamed as he wrenched my nipple. The blade pierced my areola. "Let's see how smart you are without—"

  "Quiet!" Fino yanked the knife from his belt. The hunchbacked hounds crouched, hackles raised, growling at the woods downhill. The sniffers gathered close, fingers twitching above their hilts. The chickadee and turkey vultures frantically flapped and flew off. The mining master lowered the blade from my breast.

  "Humans?" Raina whispered, wide-eyed.

  Fino lifted his hand, tuning a pointed ear toward the hounds' glares. His shoulders relaxed. "Sounds like a fire-team. Five rebels, tops." His lips slid into a nasty grin. "Let's flank and destroy these vermin." He barked orders. Fino kept eight sentries. The other sniffers each took six and split into the forest.

  Low, granite outcroppings jutted from the hillside twenty-five feet in front of me to the right. Fino's eight sentries crouched behind the boulders, their rifles aimed at the forest. Raina, Fino, and the mining master huddled ten feet behind the sentries, their backs facing me. Raina waved her hand; a shimmering wall sprung between them and the Realm sentries like sunlight reflecting in a swimming pool. Her casting seemed effortless, almost bored, but I grew nauseated when the edges of her radiating energy slipped in front of me.

 

‹ Prev