She Dies at the End (November Snow Book 1)

by A. M. Manay

  I'll fly away

  I'll fly away, fly away, oh glory

  I'll fly away, in the morning

  When I die, hallelujah by and by

  I'll fly away

  She sang with all her heart, her voice filled with sadness and hope and defiance, knowing that she herself would never receive the gift of peace after death. She wanted to remind the wolves that even if this life had no mercy for them, the next one would. She wanted to make them feel that though their leader was dead, he was also free.

  She finished, trembling, and looked up at Luka for his reaction. He smiled his creepy smile and said, “But, kitten, there is no freedom in heaven for you.”

  “I know,” she replied softly. “That’s why I thought it would amuse you.” She hoped against hope that he wouldn’t see her true motives, her desire to stand with the wolves in their grief. She had no strength left to survive his displeasure.

  To her relief, he threw his head back and laughed. He tweaked her nose as he said cheerfully, “You are going to be so much fun, kitten.” And with that, November promptly collapsed in a heap. The last thing she saw was Hector in his cage, raising his hand to give her a little salute.

  She woke twelve hours later to find Willow in her room and the shackles gone. The fairy looked relieved as November sat up in bed. The fairy handed her prisoner a plastic cup of water, asking, “How do you feel?”

  “Better for having slept,” the girl replied after finishing the water. “Is he upset with me for fainting?”

  “If he were, you’d be in the box. No, he was worried that he might have pushed you too far, that you’d wake up crazy or something,” Willow admitted.

  “How touching,” the girl replied in a voice dripping with sarcasm. Willow said nothing in reply but called out to the guards outside, “Tell him she’s awake and lucid.” Willow then told her, “He’s given me permission to take you outside to the garden for a walk. He wants you to have the chance to say goodbye to the sun. He fears there won’t be time tomorrow. It’s almost sunset, so we should hurry. You can eat and bathe when we return.”

  November shivered at the reason, but her heart leapt at the chance to see something besides stone walls. Willow gave her a pair of bedroom slippers to go over her wool socks, covered her with a cloak, then slipped the black bag once again over her head and led her to the roof. The edges of the garden featured thick, chest-high walls topped with eight feet of metal bars and razor wire. Even these stark reminders of imprisonment could not destroy the view of the sunset over the desert. November found herself smiling in spite of herself. If this was to be her last sunset, at least it was a pretty one. The garden itself was handsome enough, a green oasis and unexpected respite.

  There was a small group of humans taking the air under the gaze of watchful guards. They seemed to be doing yoga. At one end of the roof, another handful of humans appeared to be constructing a small stage at the direction of a short, red-haired fairy. Three of the workers lifted up a wooded structure and anchored it to the platform. It consisted of a central wooden beam with two arms angled downward. November began to wander over to see what they were doing when Willow blocked her way. “You don’t want to go over there,” the fairy cautioned.

  November was turning to ask why not when she realized the reason: they were building this for her, for the next night. “He’s going to attach me to that . . . that cross thing?” she asked in revulsion and disbelief.

  “It’s just so everyone can see you. They couldn’t bear witness if he drained you lying down,” Willow said in a weak attempt at comfort. “It won’t hurt. You won’t be hanging from it. You’ll just be standing in front of it, attached so you won’t fall.” She shook her head. “I thought they were putting it up tomorrow. I wouldn’t have brought you out here to see that.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” November demanded angrily. “I’m going to get murdered for public amusement. Tomorrow night.” The reality of her predicament was beginning to hit her as she watched the hammers swinging. Fear and panic and rage and grief fought for supremacy as she began to tremble.

  While she watched the sun finish dipping below the horizon, her tears began to fall. This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen. Ilyn is supposed to save me from death, to drain me reluctantly. I’m supposed to die with people who love me. I’m not supposed to be gleefully executed by a monster like Luka. They’ll come for me. They have to. I don’t die like this. I have seen it. Please don’t let me die like this, she prayed as her trembling increased.

  “It isn’t a murder to us. It’s a birth, a joyful occasion,” Willow protested at the sight of her weeping. She reached out to put an arm around November’s shoulders, which were now shaking with silent sobs.

  November jerked away from the fairy, anger flaring at her touch. “Oh, are we friends now? You killed Pine. You brought me here to die.”

  “I did not want to kill Pine. He was my friend. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the greater good. And I brought you here to live. You would be dead if you had been in the hotel.” Willow came close again and placed one hand on each of November’s shoulders. November stood still this time but could not look her kidnapper in the face. “Soon you will understand. Now let’s go back inside. You must be getting cold.” I am cold, the girl realized, and she slowly followed Willow toward the door, with one last look at the nearly full moon rising.

  Just before Willow slipped the hated bag back over her head, November glimpsed something odd: three of the exercising humans fell to the ground. Before she could ask what was going on, Willow ushered her quickly back inside the fortress.

  Back in her room, breakfast sat on her table. She sat down to tuck in to what might be one of her last meals, preparing to savor the oatmeal with maple sugar, fruit, and a mug of hot chocolate. Just as she was about to take a bite, a blur swept into the room and knocked the spoon out of her hand. It was Luka himself. She looked at him with puzzled surprise.

  He grabbed her shoulder, spun her around, and demanded, “How much did you eat?”

  “None of it, yet. Why?” she asked, her hands prickling with fear at his frantic demeanor.

  He looked to Willow for confirmation, and she nodded. “We just got back in. What’s going on, my lord?”

  Luka studied November another moment and finally relaxed his iron grip. “Someone’s poisoned the humans’ food, or the water. We’re not sure yet. But they’ve all collapsed. Half are already dead, and the rest soon will be.” His eyes burned with his fury.

  November stood up and took a step back from the table, as if to avoid contamination. Those poor people, she said to herself. She thought a moment and said a silent prayer for them. “It can’t be the water. I drank some over an hour ago, and I’m fine.”

  “I gave you bottled water,” Willow countered. “Ben brought it by before dawn, as you slept. He said there was a problem with the cistern, a crack in a pipe or something.”

  “Did he?” Luka asked, eyes narrow and voice dripping suspicion. He clicked a button on his phone. “Find me Ben. Yes, the idiot youngling. Now.” He did not wait for a reply. In a flash, November found herself pressed against the wall, the vampire’s hand and fangs at her throat. “Tell me you didn’t know about this in advance,” he said with quiet, dangerously precise diction.

  She could barely take in enough air to reply. “Of course not!” she answered hoarsely. “I would never sit by and allow such a thing,” she managed to protest, her honest horror at what had been done evident in her face.

  Luka studied her closely before releasing her. “I thought not,” he replied, fangs once again hidden. He straightened her tunic and patted her on the shoulder. November found a seat, hoping no one could hear her knees knocking. Luka began to pace. He turned to November. “If you examined the cistern, could you tell if he poisoned it?”

  “Probably,” she replied honestly, “Especially since it most likely just happened today or last night. I assume it’s fed by a well?”
He nodded. “I should check that, too, just to be sure.”

  “Let’s go,” he said, beckoning Willow.

  “Sir?” she asked, slightly confused. “You will accompany us?” She was accustomed to a master who liked to delegate.

  “I’m not letting her out of my sight if I can help it,” he replied, taking November by the arm. “And you will be with her every moment I am not. Tomorrow night she will become mine forever. I’m taking no chances until then, even if this is all the doing of that moronic boy.” With inquiring eyebrows, Willow held up the black hood, at which Luka rolled his eyes. “I think we can dispense with that, given her abilities. She probably could draw a map of the place by now anyway.” Luka wrapped his prize up in a cloak and bundled her out the door.

  The three of them started quickly down the hall, trailed by three more guards. Philemon caught up with them and delivered the news that they’d done a complete head count, and the only people missing were Ben, a tower guard, and two of the drawbridge guards.

  “I should have known,” Luka said, sounding irritated with himself. “I should have killed him as soon as I had the chance. I thought that he could be useful. Evidently not.”

  As they hurried back up to the roof, November got to see with her eyes what she’d only heretofore glimpsed with her gift. They passed by the human dormitories, whose walls along the corridor were made mostly of glass so as to facilitate the surveillance of the guards. Now it afforded her a view of the dead and dying. Many were convulsing, backs grotesquely arched. “Oh, God,” she murmured, horror-struck, wanting somehow to help them. She reached out helplessly and touched the glass. There were so many of them, many hundred humans kept to feed Luka’s troops. All were dead or nearly so.

  Luka looked at her as he sensed her distress. “We've already enthralled them into oblivion, and there is nothing more to be done. They’re feeling no pain, kitten. They feel safe and warm and unafraid. We’re not complete monsters, you know.” So she tore her eyes away and hurried along beside him, swallowing her tears. “It’s not a nice way to die, strychnine, and it doesn’t take much. We keep it around for the rats,” he explained further.

  “Why couldn’t the fairies heal them during the day?” she asked before she could stop herself.

  “Most of the humans slept all day and woke at dusk. It was only then they were poisoned. We did not realize what was happening to them until it was too late,” he replied. “Even if we had, there were too many of them. It would have weakened the fairies too profoundly.”

  Another question struck her, which this time she managed not to voice. What about the werewolves? She tried to look for them, down through many floors to the dungeons she’d glimpsed, but to no avail. It was instead Willow who asked, as they emerged onto the roof, “My lord, what about the wolves?”

  He answered, “No food or water for them today, so they are still among the living. For now.” November couldn’t tell if Willow was disappointed or pleased that they had lived to suffer another day.

  They walked over to the water tank. November closed her eyes and placed her hands upon it. Once she was able to quiet herself, she was swiftly rewarded with a vision of Ben climbing up to an access hatch and pouring several bottles of something into the water. He looked determined rather than frightened. With one look back, he murmured, “I’m sorry. It was the only chance.”

  November pulled her hand away, and looked back to her keepers. She nodded confirmation of Ben’s guilt, telling herself that it was not too much of a betrayal given that he had already revealed it by fleeing. She couldn’t understand it. What was the point of murdering all those people? And he couldn’t have been sure that November would avoid ingesting the poison.

  “It was him. Three bottles of poison. Judging by the sky, maybe a couple of hours before dawn?” she reported. “He killed the guard over there first,” she added, pointing to one of the towers. Luka swore under his breath.

  After a cursory check of the well and the kitchens, where November found nothing of note, they headed to Luka’s office. The stains of her blood were still just barely visible on the wooden table, and November had a glimpse of one of the humans scrubbing it vigorously the day before. There was a tray on the table, and a bottle of water, but she couldn’t bring herself to eat for thinking of the dead and dying. She took a seat by the fire to warm her chilled bones, trying to disappear. She still didn’t understand what was going on, or why. That is because she was continuing to think of the dead as people. Everyone else, of course, was thinking of them as supplies.

  “We’ll have to break into the reserve blood, then, to feed the vampires? They can’t eat tainted blood,” Willow asked her master.

  “He unplugged the freezers and slashed all the bags before dawn. Nothing edible left. The fairies will go after the garden in the morning, I suppose. Younglings first, in orderly fashion. Put Barley in charge of that. He doesn’t suffer fools. I’ll have to let people go hunting in the desert in small groups as well as send to the ranchers for resupply,” he said, worry written on his face. “We won’t have fresh livestock until tomorrow night at the earliest. No one will starve, but the young ones will be difficult to manage to say the least.”

  “Do you think he had a plan? I mean, to take advantage of the weakness caused by our lack of food?”

  “I doubt Ben could conceive of a plan for picking up my dry cleaning,” he replied acidly, sounding remarkably like his brother for a moment.

  “But Ilyn or Hazel—“ Willow protested.

  “Are dead, most likely. We will be careful, of course, but I am not overly alarmed. This a child’s ham-fisted attempt at vengeance. He will pay for it, of course. How far do you think he could have gotten?”

  “He’s a flyer,” Willow said, “so, pretty far if he fed first, and no way to tell which direction.”

  “Put out the word to our friends,” he ordered. “Million dollar bounty. I want him, preferably alive. I want Philemon in charge of resupply. No stealing along the way by the young ones. They’ll be hungry.”

  “Of course,” she answered. Luka dismissed her with a wave. Willow gave a short bow and left, leaving November with a sinking heart, alone with her enemy.

  Chapter 16

  “You must eat, kitten. You lost blood last night, and you must keep up your strength,” Luka admonished, smiling down at her. They had just fed some of everything to the wolves, to make certain Ben hadn’t poisoned the food as well. Luckily, he hadn’t. So the wolves were still alive, and at least they'd gotten to eat.

  She did as she was bid, rising and moving to the table. Breakfast tasted like ash in her mouth, for all she could see were the dying. Even still, she ate it all. She drank some of the bottled water, saving some for later, not knowing how much they had around.

  She considered recent events, rolling them over in her mind. What if she had drunk it? Or bathed in it? Ben couldn’t have been sure she wouldn’t. She hoped that if he was willing to take such a risk, to kill all those innocent people and endanger her, that he was up to something important enough to justify that action, at least in his own mind. She didn’t think anything could justify it in her own. Please let him know what he is doing, she prayed. For once.

  She realized that Luka was staring at her. He moved from his desk to the chairs by the fire and beckoned her with a crooked finger. As she moved to sit in the chair across from him, he patted the footstool close beside him, commanding her to sit there instead. She did so, swallowing nervously, and he spoke. “Willow tells me that your trip to the roof this afternoon upset you.”

  “When did she tell you that?” she asked, looking at her hands, avoiding his eyes.

  He held up his phone. “Texting – so useful, don’t you think? I remember the days of messengers and carrier pigeons and waiting months for replies. And e-mail, so convenient – you know, I’m already receiving overtures by e-mail from the surviving lords,” he said in a confiding, gleeful tone.

  She quailed inwardly at that unsettli
ng tidbit. Fair weather friends, she thought. He pocketed his smart phone. “You’ve been crying. I can smell it.” He moved to sit next to her at the table. “I hope you don’t think I sent you up there meaning to upset you. I had forgotten that they were building the scaffold. I suppose the fairies will have to finish it.” He reached out and placed his hand upon her own. It took all her strength not to snatch it away again.

  What in the world am I supposed to say to that? No problem, sir, looking forward to my murder? “I’ve had a lot to process in the last few days, that’s all,” she answered quietly, staring down at his cold hand on top of her own. She knew she ought to take the opportunity try to look into his life, but she couldn’t bear to do so, nor did she think she had enough presence of mind to hide what she was doing. “I, um, never thought my death would be so public. Though it seems I’ve been executed more than once before.”

  “I should think so. People are so easily frightened by magic. You do rather have the air of a witch, a bit of a glow," he said with a flamboyant hand gesture. "Even the humans sense it. But, kitten, please don’t think of this as an execution. This is a joyous event! I am giving you a great gift. I simply want all my people to celebrate it with us.”

  “That’s what Willow said,” she responded, not knowing what else to say. Joyous, right.

  “You should listen to her. She’s the closest thing I have to a daughter, until you rise. She will be part of your family.”

  No way in hell does that happen, she swore to herself. “You took care of her, after her family died, didn’t you? I saw you pick her up off the ground.” Keep him talking as long as possible. Talking means he’s not doing anything worse.

  “Indeed, I helped raise her, along with my kin. The family was all together then, living on the east coast, before Ilyn became king. After the rift with my parents, when I settled in Arizona, I asked her to stay with William. I knew that eventually, I would have need of her there. And that eventually, my brother would disappoint her. He’s always been too soft on the wolves.” Luka’s mouth twisted with distaste.