by C. Ellsworth
Liah was helping Traizen to his feet, but Addy spared them only the briefest glance before she drew within striking distance of the spideroak, its tall legs pumping like a steam machine and sending soil flying about with each step. Ryan reached the beast and raised his sword, timing his swing to when the closest leg came down. His steel blade cut deep, and black blood sprayed from the wound right at Addy.
Addy slid to a stop, but it was a moment too late. Dark liquid splashed into her eyes, and oh, how it burned! She doubled over, blind and gasping. Ryan shouted a warning beside her, but something large smashed into her chest like a runaway cart. She flew backward, pain shooting down her arms and legs, and when she crashed finally to the ground, a hundred bells rang in her ears.
She rose to her elbows and sucked air deeply through clenched teeth. Was she all in one piece? Filth and rot, the pain! She scrubbed at her eyes. Everything around her appeared red-tinged, as if seen through tinted glass. She couldn’t keep her eyes open for more than a second or two at a time. The air was like fire!
She blinked. Ryan raised his blade and blocked a blow that sent him rocking back on his heels.
Blink. Traizen and Liah were charging in from behind the beast, their weapons smashing and slicing against bark-like skin.
Blink. Karine dodged between legs as they crashed down around her, trying to get close enough to strike at the creature’s belly again, but so far she was having no luck.
The spideroak was limping, favoring the front leg that Traizen had struck with his hammer and the rear leg that Ryan had chopped into. But it still had six good legs, and they were enough to keep it agile. All the while, the pale, woman-part shrieked and sneered, and scowled with those ebony eyes.
The woman . . . Of course! The pale-skinned woman—if it could be called a woman—was the brains of the creature. If ever she had been a victim, she was no more. She was the creature itself!
Addy stood and started toward the spideroak, the burning in her eyes lessening. If she could get in close enough, she might be able to strike the head. She might be able to help!
But at that instant the creature crouched and leaped. It leaped toward her! There was no time to react. It came down on top of Addy like a boulder from the heavens, and down Addy went again, weapons flying from her grasp.
The spideroak drew down over her like a falling tree, the woman’s pale arms outstretched toward her.
Addy’s heart raced wildly as she fumbled for her daggers, but they were just out of reach. Lord of Light! The pale tree-woman drew closer—within arm’s length—and bared her needlelike teeth in a triumphant smile. Addy scrambled backward, but every inch she moved, the spideroak moved with her. Where were her friends? They were shouting nearby, but the monster would not be distracted. It drew closer still, that wicked grin driving chills into Addy like icy daggers.
The spideroak’s good leg rose high to strike, and Addy tensed. She was about to die! Lord, no. Not yet!
There was a flash of movement. Liah! And then she was there, standing above Addy. She held her sword high, and with her free hand, she reached out and grabbed the spider-woman forcefully by the throat. “Not today!” Then she drove her blade home between pale breasts.
And blood fountained.
Addy scrambled back to avoid the inky liquid as it fell to coat the ground. Then she gasped. There was more than just black blood. There was also red.
Wavering briefly, the spideroak convulsed once and then collapsed to the ground. And Liah fell with it. She landed hard, her sword dropping from her hand. She was spattered from head to toe in a swirl of black and crimson.
Traizen appeared and tried to pull Liah away, but something held her fast. He screamed. “Help me!” Ryan and Karine rushed to his side and set themselves against the bulk of the beast, pushing with all their strength.
Addy stood, her legs shaking beneath her. So much blood. Liah. She stepped forward and took a firm hold on Liah’s other hand before Traizen gave a count of three, and then they all heaved and pulled. There was a wet, crunching sound like that of a roasted chicken leg being torn away, and then Liah was pulled free.
Addy gasped and felt the blood drain from her face. Protruding from Liah’s stomach was a foot-long splinter of wood with a fleshy substance attached to the protruding end. It must have come from the spideroak, but from where? A glance at the pale, dead spider-woman showed a bloody hole where its abdomen had been. A hidden weapon? Some kind of defense? It hardly mattered now.
Addy crouched down beside Liah and tried to wipe the blood from her face. She was deathly pale, her face contorted with pain, and tears ran from the corners of her eyes. She raised a trembling hand to her chest and fumbled weakly at the fabric of her shirt. She was reaching for her necklace.
Addy pulled the necklace from around Liah’s neck and placed it into the woman’s palm, but Liah—eyes wide and desperate—quickly pushed the small figure back into Addy’s hand. The little figurine Liah’s sister had given her for luck. Addy’s chest clenched.
Liah looked up and met Addy’s gaze, her eyes losing focus. Her breath came in quick, raspy breaths, her lips moving as if to form words. But the words never came.
Liah’s eyes glazed over. Her breath ceased. Then her hand fell softly to her chest.
Addy’s stomach clenched. “Liah?” she called softly, her sight blurring through tears. She took up Liah’s hand and gave it an urgent squeeze. This can’t be happening. Not again! “Liah?”
A gentle hand touched Addy’s shoulder. “She’s gone, Addy . . . she’s gone.” Ryan’s voice rasped.
“No!” Addy shook her head. “We have to do something! We have to help her!” She took hold of the splintered wood in Liah’s stomach, and with some difficulty, wrenched it free and hurled it aside. “Liah! Liah, stay with me!” She patted the woman’s blood-covered cheeks. Nothing. She patted her hands. Nothing. She took her by the shoulders and gave her a violent shake, but Liah just lay there. She just lay there!
Addy’s shoulders began to shake, and cool tears streamed down her face. “Stay with me, Liah. Please, stay with me.”
Chapter 25
Addy’s foot caught on a protruding root, and she nearly stumbled before she regained her balance. Then she continued walking as if nothing had happened, putting one foot numbly in front of the other. Her heart was leaden in her chest. Liah was gone. Oh, Spirelight, she was gone! And, like Sorsia, she had died to save her.
Everyone around her was bound to die on this journey. Perhaps it would be better if Addy simply fell into a bottomless hole. If she was the next to go, the others might still make it back home safely, curse the Tower and whatever it might bring. She shook herself. No! What was she thinking? If she had the chance to end the Faege—to help Gevin—she would do whatever was necessary!
Black clouds floated high above, at times obscuring the afternoon sun as they raced toward the Tower to amass in a vortex roiling around the red light. Every day, every moment, the storm grew larger and more violent.
The red light flickered suddenly. What was—
From the Tower came a tone, deep and rumbling, a sound a mountain-size horn might make. The volume of it sent painful needles stabbing into Addy’s eardrums. She clapped her hands over her ears and gritted her teeth. The earth shook beneath her feet, and a hot wind blasted across the valley, carrying with it a cloud of dust and a stench that had them all bent over gagging. An alarm? It sounded . . . urgent. A warning before the end?
The bone-shaking sound rolled over them, echoing into the distance and growing fainter until it was finally gone. Addy pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and swallowed the bile that had risen into her throat. The air smelled of rotten meat, much like the week-old wolf carcass she and her friend, Eddis, had stumbled upon once.
Her companions were all crouched with hands on knees, gagging while casting each other worried glances. How much more of this would they have to endure? It was already torture, and it was only likely to get worse from her
e! Tears welled up in her eyes. No! No tears! She gritted her teeth and clenched her hands into fists. Whining is no tool for the task, as Papa would say. She stood tall and began walking once again. The sooner this cursed journey was over, the sooner she could get home to her family!
Ryan called from behind. “It’s all right, Addy. Nothing could be done.”
Addy shook her head. Nothing? If only I had been stronger. If only I had had more training! Oh, Liah! A lump formed in her throat. She reached up and clutched the stone figure now hanging from her neck beneath her shirt. Why had Liah given it to her? It had certainly never brought luck to Liah’s sister or to Liah herself. Regardless, Liah had wanted her to keep it, and so she would. She would keep it close.
A tear rolled from Addy’s eye, and she reached up to wipe it away. They hadn’t given Liah a proper death ceremony. They hadn’t been able find enough wood to build a proper funeral pyre—the spideroak wouldn’t take a flame—and burying her in the Faeged earth, especially out in the Twisted Lands, was unthinkable. How long before the misshapen creatures of this place would tear her to pieces and scatter her bones?
The ground trembled again suddenly beneath her feet, followed by the crack of thunder. The tremor wasn’t strong enough for her to lose her balance, but it set her stomach clenching. It was the third one today. Time was running out. They had to get to the Tower quicker.
Traizen loped along with his large hammer in hand, the bulky rectangular head swaying near the ground as he walked. Normally it would have been strapped to his back, but since Liah had fallen, he’d taken to keeping it at the ready. It would be difficult to catch him unprepared now. He looked angry, his freckled face lowered to the ground, his reddish-brown eyebrows furrowed into a scowl. His lips moved occasionally to form unspoken words, but it seemed at least some of them might be “Liah” and “Sorsia.”
Abruptly, Traizen let out a great roar and swung his hammer, smashing it down onto the ground, earth cratering where it struck. Was he going mad? Ryan’s and Karine’s mouths dropped open, and their eyes went wide.
Traizen threw his head back and laughed, the sound bordering on a mad cackle. Then he lifted his weapon, revealing the remains of some hapless creature smashed to a pulp at the center of the shallow pit. It was a leathery spider much like the one Traizen had lifted from Addy’s back on that first day. She gave a shudder.
“Got you, you filthy vermin!” Traizen barked another laugh. “You and your beady eyes, I’ll smash the lot of you!”
Addy sighed. He certainly sounded like he was going mad. “Drink, Traizen.” Her voice was flat. “Aeric said if we don’t get enough water, we might start to act . . . oddly, have visions and the like. Does your head hurt? Dizzy?”
Traizen stared at her for a moment. Then he simply nodded and raised his water skin to his lips. They all did, even Karine, who now had Liah to thank for something to drink of her own. They no longer had to worry so much about rationing, but the cost had been great. Too great. The stone figurine suddenly felt like ice against Addy’s chest.
The sun crawled slowly upward as they walked on, the heat like an oven easing up only a little when those black clouds slid by, ever toward the Tower. The land around them grew more tortured as they came into the heart of the Twisted Lands, the plants and animals more hungry. More than once, one of them had to leap back or be pulled away as some spiny vine or thistle bush struck out at them. What deadly venom might be on those sharp needles?
They saw animals on occasion: rats and rabbits, and things that resembled elongated cats with no ears and spiky tails. They also saw canth, many of them, always appearing at a distance, watching them, even stalking them perhaps. And when the sun went down, the canth came closer, making the evening ritual of gathering wood an absolute necessity. Thank the Lord, canth were afraid of fire.
Addy turned her eyes outward as she walked. The ground was largely flat here, with only the rare mound or divot in the earth to break the monotony. And there in the distance lay the divide between the Twisted Lands and the Waste. It was like someone had carved a line between them, so sharp was the change. And beyond the stark line was that lifeless gray plain with the light-topped Tower at its center. Her skin crawled just looking at it, but there was no avoiding it. She would be in the heart of it soon enough.
Addy stopped short. Karine was blocking the way, her eyes trained on something ahead. The others were doing the same. Addy followed their gazes. It was a large patch of what looked like sunflowers, if sunflowers were as large as wagon wheels, their petals bright and blue. The air here smelled of sweet honeysuckle, soothing and inviting, almost strong enough to drown out the smell of decay.
Addy breathed. “They’re beautiful.” They were the first thing out this far that didn’t make her skin crawl. “I wonder if they would grow outside of the Twisted Lands. Perhaps we could bring some seeds back.”
Ryan spoke from her side, his voice sounding nervous. “Something doesn’t feel right.” His eyes narrowed, and his hand reached for the handle of his sword. “It’s too quiet, too . . . peaceful. Where are the canth? They’ve been following us all morning, and now there’s no sign of them.”
Addy closed her eyes and breathed in. The scent in the air was so wonderful, so calming. Her head seemed to swim a little. What was Ryan worried about? The canth were gone for once! Could it hurt to take a quick look? It wouldn’t take long, and those flowers were so big and beautiful. She might not get another chance to see them again. I’ll bet I can get them to grow at home. A garden full of them would be wonderful. Waking up to that smell every morning . . .
“Help!” The voice came suddenly, a sharp cry that sent cold waves up Addy’s spine. “Help, help! Help!”
The others drew their weapons, and Addy did the same. What was that? The cry seemed to be coming from the field of flowers, and it sounded like a child or perhaps a woman. Either way, it was shrill and desperate. “I think it’s coming from in there!” She pointed to the swath of blue.
“Help!” the voice called again, this time a pitch higher. “Help!”
Traizen growled and started forward at a run. “I can’t just stand here!” Now, that wasn’t like Traizen at all. Hadn’t he been the first to suggest abandoning that . . . woman back at the tree?
Ryan heaved a reluctant sigh and charged after him. Karine went shortly after, leaving Addy standing alone, with her daggers in hand. Something definitely didn’t seem right. The cries were . . . “Oh, Faege and ashes!” She ran after the others. Whatever the danger, she would be right there to face it with them.
Several paces later, Addy charged into the sea of flowers. The air here was intoxicating, making her skin tingle and her head seem to float above her shoulders. Where were the others now? The plants were so tall and grew so close together that she couldn’t see more than a few feet ahead.
The cry sounded again, even more desperate this time, and again chills prickled Addy’s spine. But what would a woman—or a child, for that matter—be doing out here alone? It didn’t make any sense!
Something appeared on the ground in front of Addy. Her foot caught, sending her stumbling forward to crash onto the ground. The scent of rotting flesh mingled with the sweet air.
Within mere moments, her companions appeared from within the forest of giant flowers. Had she cried out? What had she tripped over? Ryan bent to help her up, and as she rose to her feet, there it was, a furred corpse. It might have been a canth or a wolf, but as shriveled and rotted as it was, it was hard to tell.
Traizen spat in disgust. “This place is wrong.”
Addy closed her eyes. Yes. Yes, they should leave. Still, there could be a child just ahead, near death, and if they left without at least finding out what they faced, it would haunt her for however long she had left to live. She shook her head. “We can’t leave, not if someone might be in danger.”
Ryan shifted, his jaw clenching. “Addy’s right. Let’s at least take a look. Then, if it’s too dangerous, we’ll move
on.”
Addy looked to Karine, who gave a quick nod. She looked more doubtful than even Ryan, though. She turned her eyes back to Traizen, brows raised.
Traizen’s dark eyes met hers for a moment before he gave an approving nod, and then they were moving again, slower this time. But within moments, they came upon another mound of rotting flesh, and then another still. And soon they were walking through a field of bones and half-decayed corpses. The happy blue flowers above them were a stark contrast to the death beneath their canopies.
“Help!” came the cry again, this time much closer. There was a clearing up ahead, and in it something moved. That chill raced again across Addy’s spine. She moved a step at a time now, following her companions as they entered the clearing with weapons still in hand.
In the center of the clearing was a naked figure crouched on the ground with its face down. It was slender and bore no hair. It rocked slowly back and forth, back and forth. It lurched suddenly and released another cry of “help!”
Ryan’s breath came fast as he stepped forward, drawing close to the figure. “Hey.” He licked his lips, his voice soft. “Are you all right?” He bent down and touched the figure on the shoulder, but jerked back, eyes growing wide. “It’s not human! We have to get out of here!”
The crouched figure lurched again and released another cry. It’s skin appeared smooth and shiny, tinged green. The arms and legs were just vague shapes. Addy’s mouth dropped open. It was a plant! It was just a plant! She turned to run, but something gripped her boot. The others gave startled shouts. They were struggling as well, grasping at wriggling vines that had come up through the ground to wrap up their ankles.
Karine fell, screaming, and more vines shot from the ground to wind around her throat. Ryan was hacking with his sword, but as fast as he could cut one loose, three more took its place. Traizen roared. He had dropped his hammer in favor of tearing at them with his large hands, but there were too many.
