by Jeff Altabef
They cleared the drawbridge and plunged forward into the moonlight. Dirt turned to grass, and before they reached the river and the wooden bridge that spanned it, Eamon turned back to look at the Stronghold one last time. He saw it with fresh eyes, its walls impressive, strong, daunting, and unyielding.
I wonder if I’ll be welcomed back.
He crossed the bridge and spotted the walking path easily enough, having taken it too many times to count, and heard the sound of nervous horses before he saw them. When he turned around a cluster of trees, he found Jillian waiting with three horses in a small clearing.
“Thank the heavens!” she said. “I was worried you were going to get caught.”
“No one saw us. All is quiet.” Eamon had no idea how Jillian stole the horses and supplies, but he knew she would be waiting for him. She always came through for him. “Jillian, meet Aaliss and Wilky. They’ve agreed to help in return for their freedom.”
Jillian’s eyes lingered on Aaliss, washing over her in a slow dance. She pursed her lips. “I’m coming with you.”
“But you can go back. We agreed. Only Kiernan knows of your involvement and he’ll keep quiet. If he said anything, he’d only be implicating himself. It’s not safe. You need to go back.” He hesitated and then added, “Besides, who will look after Gemma?”
Jillian grabbed the reins of a gray mare. “She can take care of herself for a spell. This was my idea as much as yours. I’m not leaving you alone.” She spoke to Eamon, but her eyes never wavered from Aaliss.
“We only have three horses and there are four of us.” Eamon argued what he could, but he knew he had already lost.
“Wilky rides with me,” said Aaliss. “He doesn’t have experience with horses.”
Jillian mounted the mare and stared down at Eamon defiantly. “Don’t we have someplace to go? I imagine we should get moving.”
As Eamon grabbed the reins of a chestnut colt, a blackbird called from a nearby tree. He got the weird feeling this was the same bird he had seen from the Stronghold.
A shiver crept up his spine.
Blackbirds were evil creatures, known to do the work of the Dark One.
***
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Chapter 24 – Aaliss
Aaliss decided she had no love for riding horses. Her back and legs started to cramp.
At least Eamon proved to be good company, pointing out trails they did not take and where they went. He even added a story or two about different hunts, and one about a red bear that had surprised him and a trading party one night by a campfire.
She added a few stories of her own, always filtering them so she didn’t reveal too much about Eden or her life as a Guardian.
The conversation waned as they traveled for hours, past rock formations, an old burial site, heavily wooded forests, grass fields, and finally to the bank of a small creek. Luckily the night sky was clear and the moonlight bright enough for them to find their way.
Aaliss couldn’t shake the feeling that this forest wasn’t as dangerous as the Zone. Perhaps the absence of the Guardians made a difference, or maybe it was Eden itself.
When they reached the creek, Eamon pulled his horse to a stop. “In this darkness we could pass an entire field of flowers and never know. We have enough of a head start on anyone from the Stronghold who might come looking for us. They shouldn’t realize we’re missing until morning, and even then it’ll take time before they send out search parties. Let’s make camp and grab a few hours of sleep.”
Wilky groaned but didn’t complain as Aaliss helped him off the black mare. He moved stiffly, as if he had a boulder stuck between his legs.
She frowned. Where does all this strength and courage come from? Did I underestimate him from the start?
She anchored his hammock to the sturdy branches of an oak. When he fell asleep, she found Eamon and Jillian by the campfire.
They warmed their hands by the fire and spoke quietly with passionate voices.
The discussion ended as she approached. She sat beside Eamon, and she could swear Jillian shot her an unfriendly, suspicious stare, but she couldn’t see clearly in the dark, the light from the fire uncertain, so she shrugged it off. She wanted to make the cure, inoculate Wilky, and devise a plan for what to do next. She didn’t need friends but....
Allies would come in handy, and she had no desire to make enemies.
The dry wood crackled and filled the night with a sporadic beat and unpredictable rhythm.
Eamon turned toward her, his voice friendly. “So tell us something about your tribe and where you’re from. Gemma says you live in a tube in the earth with weird white light and boxes with glowing words.” He shrugged one of his shoulders, which seemed his way of explaining that Gemma had a vivid imagination, and he didn’t believe a word of her story.
“It’s all true. We live in a series of tubes, dig for gold with big picks, and sing songs all day.”
“Really?” Jillian hooted.
“I think she’s having a little fun with us.” Eamon chuckled, his blue eyes glowing in the firelight.
Aaliss leaned back from the fire. She needed to be careful. It would do her no good if they knew the truth about Eden. “Wilky and I come from a tribe to the north and west. It’s far from the Stronghold.”
At least it seems far way.
“How did you find Gemma?” Jillian’s gaze pierced through the firelight.
“Alone in the woods.”
She left out many of the more difficult details, like the part where she captured Gemma and dragged her to Eden to be a test subject. Some particulars were better off not spoken and, technically, she hadn’t lied. She just focused on a few select facts.
“Wilky and I brought her to that meadow where we ran into Fintan and his merry men of kidnappers.”
Eamon shook his body as if a chill had settled into his bones. “The Witch’s Woods is a very dangerous place. Strange creatures lurk in that forest, and many people have gone missing. I can’t imagine Gemma alone in those woods. We’re lucky you found her.”
Aaliss felt her face heat. She was one of the reasons those woods were so dangerous. The faces of the Soulless she had either killed or gathered flashed through her mind—ten faces, nine if she didn’t count Gemma. Now it all seemed wrong. Purity, Faith and Strength—the three pillars of Eden. How many times had she uttered those words? Now, other words came to mind—Fear, Self-Righteousness, and Weakness.
She considered confessing her sins and shedding her secrets. Thoughts swirled in her mind like notes in one of Jacob’s hymns.
What would Eamon say? Would he blame me for doing what I was told was right? Why does it matter to me what he thinks?
Eamon broke the spell. “Why did you leave your tribe?” He looked pensive and brushed shaggy hair from his eyes. Only the smallest trace of stubble on his chin marred his otherwise smooth skin.
“It was time for us to go.” She picked up a stick and started to prod the ground. “Tell me about your tribe. What’s the deal with your brother? Why is he such an....” She thought better of finishing the sentence. She sensed that Eamon knew the truth about Fintan; however, they were brothers. She didn’t want to fall through thin ice.
Eamon tossed a branch onto the fire. “Fintan can be a little harsh. He has many things on his mind.” He grinned and his eyes twinkled in the firelight. “But life has been good under my other brother, King Dermot. We’ve lived in peace for the last four years and the herds have been strong. Besides, we’re completing the Books of Wisdom, which should last us generations.”
They know how to read?
“The Books of Wisdom? What’s that?” Aaliss tried unsuccessfully to hide the surprise in her voice.
Eamon’s face lit up, and the enthusiasm added a youthful charm to his features. He was handsome; Aaliss could not deny it.
“They’re Dermot’s idea. We’re writing the Masters’ collective wisdom into three books so future generations
won’t repeat the same mistakes we’ve made, and the tribe can advance. It’s brilliant.”
“Eamon’s in charge of the whole thing,” Jillian added with more than a little pride in her voice.
Aaliss fell silent. Children in Eden joked about life without adults—hollow words from scared children. The Red Death saturated every aspect of life in Eden. The Book of Jacob warned about it on almost every page, and the Priests told frightening stories of how the Dark One cursed all humanity. Vivid descriptions of disease, famine, pestilence, and pagan worship punctuated the sermons on a weekly basis. One famous passage told of human cannibalism. Now it seemed that the Priests might have been totally wrong—this tribe wrote books to share wisdom with future generations.
According to the Priests, God spared only the Edenites from the Dark One, and only Edenites have souls. They also taught that one day, when the people of Eden were judged worthy, Edenites would become immune to the Red Death and re-make the world in Jacob’s name.
Now that Wilky has discovered the cure, has that day come? Are the Edenites now worthy?
It certainly didn’t feel that way.
She glanced up and noticed Eamon watching her, so she asked the first question that came to mind. “What about your parents? Did you know them?” The words tumbled from her mouth without her thinking about how silly they might sound to him. Everyone he knew died, or would die, in their early twenties. What type of relationship could he possibly have had with his parents?
Eamon frowned. “I am the youngest, so I have few memories of my mother and father. I know father ruled the tribe briefly before I was born. I grew up in the Nursery like everyone else, but Dermot has always been there for me. He’s five winters older than me. He’s been my guide.”
She did the simple math in her head and realized Eamon’s predicament. “So Dermot is close to the end of his time and you want to save him. Is that why you freed us? To get the cure for him?”
Eamon glared into the flames. “Dermot has been a great king. He deserves more time. It would not be right for him to be taken so soon.”
Jillian squeezed his arm.
A heavy silence hung over the small campsite, broken only by the babbling sound of the creek and the hooting of an owl in the distance.
”What about my short sword and crossbow?” Aaliss asked. “I don’t want to sleep without them. These woods could be dangerous.”
“I don’t think so,” Jillian said, and Aaliss practically felt a blast of winter air hit her in the face. “How do we know you won’t attack us in the night?”
Eamon stared into the flames, refusing to look at her, his face tinting pink.
So now I know what they were arguing about before I joined them at the campfire.
Aaliss deftly removed the knife from inside the folds of her suit. With the blade in hand, she darted behind Eamon, grabbed his shaggy hair, and pressed the blade close to his face. She held the sharp side safely in the other direction from him and gripped his hair lightly in her fingers.
Jillian’s mouth formed a perfect “oh” as her jaw dropped.
“You mean like this?” She shot Jillian a sharp look. “If I wanted to, I could have killed you both a dozen times. I gave you my word and that should be enough!” She pinched her eyes together, but she felt a sharp point jab her stomach.
“Ouch,” she said.
Eamon playfully poked her with a dagger and chuckled. “I’m not that easy to kill.”
She released him, surprised at his cunning. So few people surprised her. She had not seen the dagger, and joked, “I guess we’d both be dead and where would that get us?”
Eamon laughed. “We’d go to the next life, and they would be left on their own to mourn us.”
“That’s not funny,” said Jillian.
“Aaliss’s word is good enough for me. I’ll get your gear. We’ll all be safer with you properly armed.” He jumped to his feet, leaving Jillian and Aaliss alone.
Jillian glared at her. “You better not hurt him. I’ll make you pay for it.”
Even in the darkness, Aaliss could see the malice in Jillian’s eyes. She let the threat hover in the air like a dark storm cloud. Unsure why Jillian disliked her so much, she didn’t want to snipe back and make a full-fledged enemy of her. Maybe Jillian just wanted to protect her boyfriend, and how could Aaliss fault her for that?
Eamon returned with Aaliss’s short sword and her crossbow, which he handed to her. He also retained something in his own hand that she had a hard time seeing in the darkness.
“What else did you bring?’ she asked.
He settled between the two women. “This is a book. I always read before I sleep. It’s become a habit for me. I don’t think I can fall asleep otherwise.”
“Does everyone in your tribe know how to read?”
“Everyone is taught the basics up to their thirteenth winter after their name carving. Those who are suited go on to more advanced study.”
Aaliss arched both eyebrows. The Soulless were supposed to be primitive, just barely able to dress and feed themselves, yet Eamon’s tribe created Books of Wisdom and everyone knew how to read. She realized she knew nothing about life outside Eden.
“Where’d you get a book like that?” she asked. It looked old and familiar.
“We found a vault in the ruins to our east. It contained dozens of books that could still be read—weird stories about life during the time before tribes. Some even had pictures, pictures you could otherwise only see at The Exchange. We added them to our library above the Nursery. We must have thirty books by now. This book was in a special metal box.”
“What’s it about?”
“It’s hard to explain. It’s about everything. I didn’t fully understand it the first time I read it, so I’m reading it again. It talks about life and old men with beards and a time long forgotten. Something about it speaks to me.” He smiled sheepishly. “According to this book, there is only one God, not a different one for each season like we believe. The book gives me hope that there’s a better way to live. Perhaps we could go back to life as it was before the curse if we remember this ancient God.”
“How do you know any of it’s real?”
“I don’t.” He sighed. “It just feels real to me. That’s all I have.”
“What’s it called?”
He lifted the tome. “The cover page is faded. I just call it The Book.”
“Read me something from it,” Aaliss asked.
He grinned and looked happy to oblige. “Sure. I’ve been trying to get Jillian to read it, but she hasn’t taken me up on it.”
“I would if I had time.” Jillian’s face turned a light shade of pink.
He opened the book to the beginning, his voice confident. An experienced reader, he could easily have been a storyteller back in Eden. “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the water—”
“And God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light.” Aaliss had memorized many verses from The Book.
“You know this book?” Eamon’s mouth dropped open as he let the book fall softly to his lap.
Aaliss chuckled. “I’ve read it before.” She thought of the Priests back home, even Piers.
How would he react if he knew a Soulless was reading the Book?
Eamon surprised her.
How could he have no soul?
“Shouldn’t we get some sleep? Tomorrow will be a long day.” Jillian sounded irritated and noisily prepared a sleeping place by the fire close to Eamon.
The woods turned abnormally quiet and a chill swept through the forest.
Aaliss whispered, “Do you hear that?”
“I don’t hear anything,” answered Jillian, her words biting.
“You’re right. It’s too quiet.” Eamon’s eyes darted around the campsite.
“Look over there.” Aaliss pointed toward the creek.
Three hazy, silvery figures on silver horses rode in silence. They shimmered as though not quite fixed to this reality, and moved so quietly the horses’ hooves could not possibly be touching the forest floor. They floated above the earth.
She swallowed hard. “They’re Ghost Riders. I’ve seen them once before. They’re not fully of this world.”
“I don’t see anything,” said Jillian.
“If you look closely, you can see silver shadows. Are they dangerous?” Eamon reached for his sword.
“They ride in silence. They never notice the living. Don’t try to touch one. It’s said those who touch a Ghost Rider become part of their world and not ours.”
The lead rider turned his head and looked directly at the small campfire.
Aaliss’s heart thundered. She could only make out a vague outline of a face, but for a moment she thought he stared at her. Then she realized he looked beyond her and toward Wilky. Alarmed, she stood and reached for her sword, but by the time she unsheathed it, the riders had vanished. The normal forest sounds returned, and the air turned warmer.
“Will they come back?” asked Eamon.
“I don’t think so.” Aaliss stalked from the campfire and set up her hammock close to Wilky, even though she felt a little silly.
It must have been my imagination. Everyone knows Ghost Riders don’t see the living.
***
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Chapter 25 – Fintan
Fintan trudged to the Stables. The first rays of sunlight had just started to brighten the horizon, casting the sky in a dull grayish hue that matched his mood perfectly. The sky looked ominous as his steps fell heavy, slow with anxiety and lack of sleep. His head pounded from the wine he’d consumed last night, and he silently cursed Eamon, who’d wanted to celebrate his heroic rescue of Gemma with spirits.
I’ll get you back for that, Brother.
He had tried to sleep, but the many doubts that churned in his mind kept him awake. He’d acted rashly when he devised his plan under the Naming Tree, probably another result of the cursed wine and another dirty trick he’d make his brother pay for. He wanted to dispatch the blackmailer quickly. Now, with dawn’s first light, he realized he should know more about Cattie before he enacted his plan: who were her friends, did she have family at the Stronghold, and most importantly, did she tell anyone about his plans?
