“You know nothing!” I snapped. “You want to get off this Island, safely? Without your wings…which I am assuming you have absolutely no use of, then you will have to help me. I will not leave without Gianna. Help me retrieve my sister, and I swear that I will return you to your homelands.”
“How are you going to do that?” his head jerks in challenge.
“Well, my handsome creature, you will see soon, won’t you?” I fixed him in a sultry gaze and stood. I felt strong again.
As the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, I knew where north would be. North to the settlement. North, to the luxurious manse that shelters my sister. North also will be the place where I will find everything that I need to carry out my plans.
My mind buzzes with thought as we tread through the jungle. Everything that I am rests in this freedom I have now. If I do not take it, the spoils of this war will go to Vauquelin and the Bone Woman. That is a reality I could never bear. I know that if it happens, such an erroneous misfortune would be my call to death. I’d rather the birds feast on my flesh than endure her death again. Rather, the world they would create by and through her death.
This is why I have to be careful. As keen and cunning as I have ever been. If I do not get every move precise, do all things with the utmost meticulousness, we could fail. Failure for me is like sin to god. I cannot exist in its presence.
As we head north, I remember that tonight is the full moon. The full moon is when Alphonse said they’d take Gianna to the cave and sacrifice her. Still, Benjamin’s words ring in my head. If only I could speak to Benjamin, to unearth his side of the story. Would it even matter? I will always hate him for taking her away from me, for depositing her on this island as an innocent lamb for slaughter. The years between us have laid space, but not healing on the things that happened. Would Alphonse have released me if he was not for me? Or was it his sick way of getting me out of the way in order to do what he’s always wanted to do?
“What is your plan?” Kriath asks me as we drudge through the jungle woodlands, stepping over vines and thicket, dodging verdant branches and ducking under fan-shaped leaves. The din of the village beyond the hills ahead begins to intensify, the echo of sailors and the clanging of smithies in their shops. There are even small patches of farmland where vegetables are being cultivated with great plows supported by girthy horses. The ocean lays the undertone to the music of the village, turbulent waters crashing and lapping against the earth.
“Not yet,” I mutter.
We crouch along the tree line at the top of a cliff that overlooks the village. Everyone goes about their business, keeping the island running as if it were a functional part of the legitimate world. Like a small colony. Perhaps it is, and Benjamin just does not know the cards that are so ample in his hands. All he would have to do is reach out and take it; to assert himself and do it correctly.
Glaring out over the landscape of blindingly sunny turf and busy inhabitants, I scope out the pathway that leads to the manse. A road has been pocked into the mud by wheel tracks and much activity, one that sunders up into the jungle. First, Gianna. Then, we will execute the plan. I do not want them to leave with her. If they’ve done that, I worry that there will be no opportunity for me to intervene.
“We secure my sister’s safety first,” I say, and we thread our way through the trees towards the manse.
“You are a crazy woman. We cannot take on an army of men,” Kriath spits the words at my back, utterly disapproving.
“We won’t have to,” I jab back. “Are you afraid of a few teeny men? You out of anyone should not be complaining.”
“I do not like to kill. As I said.”
“Yes, and why is this?” I question silkily. “Is there some law against killing where you come from?”
He is silent, and I make no move to comment further. Sweat beads along my brow and between my legs. I am glad for the loose-fitting dress that they gave me. If I had the option, I’d wear breeches like a man. Executing plans in a dress is far more difficult than it would be in breeches. My hair is wild and matted. I am sure that I smell. After so many years of rigorous upkeep, the promise of a hot bath invigorates me. Retrieve Gia, escape while they are doing the ceremony, then all will be well.
At least then I will have time to plan further. In our parting, I knew that I would not see Alphonse again. Whatever our lives had been before, our paths seem to be split. I do not want to think about him, but I worry for his wellbeing. He is like a brother and yet, so much more. Everything that we were together dove into sensual territory. But more than that, there was companionship. I hate to think of him suffering alongside Vauquelin at my expense.
When we reach the outer fringe of palm trees lining the manse’s yard, I flurry to conceal myself behind the trees. Kriath follows suit, tucking in his wings and lying as low as he can. I watch between the leaves of the foliage, breathing in the sweet scent of the plants. It is Benjamin. His men follow him in a procession. I strain my eyes and neck to locate her, but…she is not there. With the last of the men trickling into view, there is no woman. Not that I have seen. There are many men in chains, being lead like cattle through the glen. Where did he get them?
“What the fuck…” I whisper. “He didn’t take her.”
“What is it?” Kriath’s tone is caustic.
“He…” I survey the manse’s many rooflines and windows. “She must be in there.”
“Why are they leaving, then?” he inquires. “I thought their main purpose was to take her. Was that not what you have been agonizing over?”
I whip my head around to glare at him, fury surging from my pores. “Must you always be so disconcerting? I have known you for all of a day and you’re the worst person I have met in my entire life.”
“But I am no person,” he quips, and I swear that I see a thread, a hair imbalance of a smile on his mouth.
“No matter. You’d still take the win,” I snap. “We’re wasting time. Benjamin must still love her. Why would he leave her if it weren’t to keep her safe? Alphonse was lying…I knew this…” I sigh out through my nose heavily, shutting my eyes for a brief moment, saying a silent farewell to the trust I had once had in him. I have no time to mourn what was.
“She will be in his chambers. Why would he not take her away yet? Why would he have her stay? Alphonse said that he’d built this entire place, his entire following off of the Bone Woman’s ability to give them everlasting life…perhaps he had a duty, a promise to uphold to her. This ceremony. It was non-negotiable and had to be done during a full moon for the total effect to take hold. But why would they continue to do so?”
“You are rambling, woman.”
“I am talking to you. Voicing my thoughts. This would mean that the immortality wears off? Why else would they continuously, at the new moon, or whenever they so choose it…have to take people to offer?”
“I have no knowledge of this. This woman, she gives immortality how?”
“By taking the souls of those men that they were escorting into the jungle,” I round. “When I studied the writings of Vauquelin, he noted that when she was created she had the ability to give and take life. But there was a price to keep that immortality. The flaw in the person would not fully be healed to everlasting immortality. That price is the soul of another. This is because her magic does not last forever. Of course…”
“You said they were creating a new race of distorted creatures. They were going to use me. Where are these little demon children?”
I smile, perhaps wickedly, but I do not mean to do so.
“In the caves beneath the island. And we, together, dear bird man, are going to hit them while they are weakest.”
“See. Humans and their ruthless endeavors,” he is disapproving yet again. “What is it you are going to do before you get me off of this island as you vowed to do?”
I run my hands over my face and stand. The threat is mostly absent now. I am sure they’ve stationed a few scouts around th
e premises. I need to find weapons. He will have a surplus of them somewhere. Where are his weapon rooms? His storage houses? They must have places they keep things like cannons, gunpowder, swords…dynamite? I scan the area. I would guess that they are hidden in the jungle. Somewhere near to the port. Or perhaps…in the village? The blacksmith…
“A blacksmith. He has his own weapons constructed here. On this island. And if he has those…I’d be willing to bet that he a few of them who piece together guns and other weapons.”
“Your sister?” he reminds me. “Isn’t she the priority? Let’s get her and leave.”
“If we take her before I have destroyed their nest of ghouls I do not know that she will come along without a mass amount of questions. If we do what we must before freeing her, we can time it perfectly.”
“Why are you saying this?”
“Come,” I urge him. “Let us steal ourselves some contraband items. I’m sure they won’t mind.”
“I cannot help you if you have me stay here, out of sight,” he says. “Don’t you want my help?”
“You’re a bit conspicuous,” I tell him. It is true. His wings may give him away. Even if he were to cover them with a cloak or something like a tarp he would sting the world with his unnaturalness. Even still, as I am preparing to sneak my way down into the village, making my farewells to him, this strange creature I have known for all of a day, I have a difficult time looking at him.
“I will listen for you. And watch,” he says. He watches me carefully as if he is trying to force me to recognize the severity of the situation. He does not want me to do this. But I must, and even if he, a random creature I will not care to see again, thinks it unnecessary, it is. Everything I do, I could say I have a purpose for it. But do I truly? Is this right? I wonder now, as I stare through the slats between the flowy leaves, down the verdant trees and hillsides.
“I will be back for you,” I tell him, firmly. Firm in my own self-assurance.
I step lightly as I go, slinking in the shadows, curving myself to fit into the spaces of darkness and shielding that the trees make. When I am closer I am able to conceal myself behind large barrels and the buildings themselves. I am sure that if they saw me they’d know. Such a small village, they’d know if there was a new woman here. A whore, at that. The only women taking up residence here could only be whores.
But I know where I must go. In all my years I have known the ins and outs of things. Where people shift their assets. There is one of two places I can think that the prized items may be. A storehouse or the blacksmith's shop, perhaps in a supply room. The smells of the village are crude and unwelcoming, but I am not here to be welcomed. I stay low, keep my profile unnoticeable, and keep my shaking to a minimum. My fingers I clench hard down into my palms. Somehow the pressure, or the pain, calms me. It reminds me that I am alive, and this could be life or death. To think of Giselle, her perfectly innocent life…stolen from this world, all to be replaced with Gia. I do not know her now, but this is what needs to be done. I will find a way to grant her her memory and she’ll slide into who she was before.
The back door is cracked slightly, and I press myself against the wall as I shuffle towards the doorway. I listen. Listening for footsteps, words, even breath; my ears strain. I hear nothing to dissuade me, and part the door wide, entering cautiously. I take in the aroma of iron and fire, of smoke and leather. This is their personal room. A small firepit is carved into the bricks at the edge of the room, and all about there are normal items. A kettle simmering with pottage, tea at the table, spices drying from the rafters, and sturdy furniture to rest an aching back.
I glance around crazily for a weapon of any sort. There is nothing. I peek around the corner, my ears on high alert for any strand of noise. There is no one, it seems. Rounding off into the narrow, shoddy hall, I go quietly. I hear the burning of the kiln but nothing else. I move left to where I think a storage room will be. Down the hall, the door creaks open with an indelicate groan, and I wince.
When I open it, I see a man seated at the window, smoking a pipe.
“What are you doing in here?” he rises, his fat face puffing and pulling with rage. I have no moment to think or react without stumbling backward. I race back down the hall and out into the common area, where I locate an anvil and many swords, lined along the walls. There are guns as well as a little station, a desk of sorts. All of these things flash like prized images in my mind. I jerk a sword out of its scabbard and flip around just as the man crashes against me, attempting to hold me down.
“Who are you?” he demands to know, his greasy hands pulling, prodding, and dragging me down. It is not that I don’t try to slit him through, to greet his flopping neck with the brunt of the blade, but he is still quick, and large. I breathe heavily, shaking against his holding of my wrists. I try to bash him with my head, but he dodges it, and flounders to find something to keep me detained. I rage, practically gnashing. I cannot be done. I have to do this.
But there is a moment where he is suddenly still, and I am met by the tip of a bloody sword. Someone has run this man through, the blade that bulges out of his chest now at eye-level to me. I swallow, feeling sickness but also relief flooding my head. The man staggers back, gasping and gulping for breath, but there is none to be had for him. He falls to his knees, and then flat on his face. When he falls, his perpetrator is revealed.
“Alphonse?” I utter.
He pulls the sword from the man and wipes it on the man’s clothes.
“What are you doing?” he asks me, voice hard.
“What are you doing?” I round on him. “I should be asking the questions here. I thought I’d never see you again.”
Suddenly I am extremely angry, and when the feelings emerge further: torn. My insides quake with grief for his lies, and an agonizing gladness that he is alive and here.
“What are you doing here?” I screech. “Answer me!”
“I came to find you. To take you away from this place,” he says dully. “I have always wanted you. I want to have a life with you. Nothing else matters to me.”
I laugh then, cynicism oozing along each syllable.
“You lied about everything. You lied about Benjamin, your father…why did you do it? If I mattered so much to you, these lies would have never been said! You’re a sad excuse of a man.”
Alphonse sighs and places his sabre into its sheathe.
“Claire, these things take time to work out. You cannot ask me to explain right now, but I will. When you are safe, and when we have secured Gia. There are more important things than the past.”
“More important things?” I steam with anguish and fire-hot rage. “Everything I knew- everything I thought was a lie! I sought vengeance upon Benjamin for murdering my sister because you told me it was him. You told me that! The day we attempted to save her, and you told me to stay behind. I should have never stayed on that ship, waiting like a stupid fucking helpless fool. If I had not waited maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“We still would be, Claire. You could have done nothing to stop what happened that day!” Alphonse crows back, stilted in his position now.
“We?” the sword in my hands burns to be used. I want to smack him with it, and instead, I go forward and the back of my hand claps against his jaw.
He looks startled, blinking at me. He is completely shocked. Fuck him. How could he be shocked? I will never forgive him for this. He has crossed too many lines to many times.
“Was our entire life together not enough for you? You thought you’d destroy me? Use me these past eighteen years like a puppet, whenever you felt like it? You imbecile. To think that I thought you the better of two evils. You were the worst choice. And you knew everything that had occurred before, in my youth. You were aware of the weak state I’d been in and took advantage of it all, didn’t you? Strung me along like a doll, that’s what you did. Lied to my face day after day for eighteen years. I cannot stand to look at you. You are a monster.”
My words echo through the air, haunting us both.
“Claire I never meant for it to be this way…I never wanted…” he can hardly speak. Good. Perhaps I have brushed the surface on wounding him the same way he has wounded me.
“I do not want your help. Go,” I storm. “Go assist Vauquelin and the dead woman as you have longed to do for so long.”
“Claire, don’t do this,” he glares. But I see the rawness. My fury has scraped him.
I ignore him, utterly disgusted by the entire interaction. I find what I need in small crates, and take as much as I can carry back to Kriath. Alphonse is left standing there, saying nothing, unable to form coherent words. For a brief moment, I wonder what is wrong with him. But I have expelled everything that has been festering in my heart and mind for a week now and I have no doubt that he did not expect it. When I return for the second load of items, he is gone.
Kriath makes no move to speak or question me. When I return with the last of it, hopping over the dead body each time I enter, I glance around to be sure I am alone, and that no one has come to seek out this dead man. We are lucky that no one has seen me. The thrill of it daggers through me, shredding my insides with adrenaline. I want to be done with it. Grabbing a line of rope as I exit the blacksmith’s shop, I return to him.
“I remember where the caves are from here. This will take time, but if we do it correctly we should stay within the limits.”
“The caves? You really are doing this, then?” he mutters from behind me, petulantly judgmental.
“Of course, I am. If I do this they will have to begin again, and during that time I will be a step ahead. You won’t be around after this to see what has to happen, so, I’ll spare you the morbid details.”
The Bones of Broken Songs: A Historical Mystery Romance (Mortalsong Trilogy Book 2) Page 18
