Shepherd Hunted

by Christopher Kincaid

  “What’s he look like? Maybe we should look in some of these houses.” Yuzu matched Kit’s pace.

  She knew Timothy was alive, either here or at that other house. As they walked, his scent grew stronger. Maybe the book bug managed to escape after all.

  “He will be at the inn ahead.”

  Yuzu looked around. Her thin eyebrows disappeared into her uneven bangs. “You had enough money to stay here?”

  A young man with a face pocked with pink scars appeared ahead of them. He carried a heavy looking metal bar. Three more men filed out of the nearby alley. Kit heard movement around her. She didn’t have to look to know they were surrounded. What had happened to her senses? Normally she could hear people or sense they were close by. Her mind had been too addled by the girl and the heady scent taunting her. Ever since meeting that man, she had felt out of sorts. She sighed.

  “Kit?” Yuzu grabbed her arm.

  “The sister says you are a demon.” The scarred tough gripped his weapon with white knuckles. “You will be coming with us to face God’s justice.”

  “She is not a demon!” Yuzu’s voice trembled. “She helped children I took care of and—”

  “A demon’s familiar, Vyrin,” a bearded man said.

  “No. She’s not—wait! I’m not…” Yuzu backed away from Kit.

  “I don’t have time for this.” Kit stalked toward the men. They backed away, holding their weapons in front of them. Just as I suspected.

  “Stay back, demon!” The lead boy, Vyrin, crossed himself. “We are protected by God!”

  “Are you?” Kit took another step toward them. If she could scare these fools enough, maybe they would run. She flashed a fang. “It seems God did nothing to protect you from the illness I caused.”

  The bearded man spat. “I am not afraid of you. We know God passed judgment on us because we let you walk free. Sister Tera told us so.”

  Yuzu stared at Kit with wide eyes.

  “Sister Tera. Did she now?” With luck I can chase Yuzu away too, get Timothy, and get out of this place by tonight. Kit needed to be back on the road. It may be gone, but I need to see my home for myself. She had already lost too much time in this town. “She and I go way back. Did you ask how she got that scar on her cheek?”

  The men hesitated.

  Just then two dozen men loped down the street, carrying clubs, hammers, and fishing nets. Kit cursed.

  “So what do you say now, demon?” Vyrin took a step toward her. “You can’t curse all of us. You will come with us one way or the other.” The men surrounded them.

  Kit glanced about and grimaced. Could she trust Yuzu to find Timothy? The men moved another step closer. Kit caught Yuzu’s gaze. There was little choice.

  “I will distract them.” Kit whispered. She wished she still had her belt knife. “The man I search for is in the inn. Don’t argue. I know he is there. Get in there, lock the door behind, and tell him to find me.” Her mouth twisted. “He isn’t much of a hero, but he’s all I care to have.”

  “What about you?” Yuzu asked.

  “These guys are nothing compared to the men I am used to dealing with.” Kit skewered the girl with her gaze. “I will be sure to reward you.”

  “This will make us even for Colt.”

  “Fine. Ready and…” Kit charged into the men. She saw Yuzu dart toward the inn. The young man grunted as Kit used her momentum to push off his chest and smash her fist into the bearded man beside him. The men milled and fumbled their weapons, uncertain what to do. Kit’s heart pumped. She twisted and jabbed her elbow into a bald man. She managed to see Yuzu close the inn’s door behind her, cutting off a dark-haired boy who chased after her. You better be in there, shepherd.

  Something hard hit her shoulder. Pain shivered, but she turned and backhanded the townsman. The men jostled each other. They certainly were not like Tahd.

  But there were also too many.

  The men closed their circle around her despite her best efforts. Her hands ached, but she refused to be prey again. A weighted net descended over her. She managed to avoid it while kneeing another man between the legs. Her hood fell back, leaving her feeling more exposed than when she was in the festival. He crumpled with a high-pitched yell. An old man with leather skin ducked under her fist and snagged her legs. She crashed to the cobblestones. She kicked at the old root, but he held on. The men circled around her, grabbing her arms. She wrestled her panic while she struggled.

  The things I go through for you, shepherd.

  “I yield!” Kit went limp. It was a struggle. Confused faces stared down at her.

  “That’s right. I yield.” She showed her palms. Her ears felt exposed with so many watching her. “That means you can take me hostage and have to show me every respect.”

  Vyrin frowned. His cheek already started to bruise. “I know what it means. How can we know you are not tricking us?”

  “You watch me. I don’t have a chance to escape strapping men like you.” Never mind I almost beat all of you into the dirt.

  “What about that girl who was with the demon?” the bearded man said.

  Vyrin looked up. Kit saw he had missed a patch of wispy stubble under his chin when he shaved. “If she is a familiar—”

  “She is just a girl I met,” Kit said. “I intended to feed on her soul, but you brave men came just in time to save her.” Fools.

  “Let’s bind her arms,” Vyrin said. “We should have someone check on the girl.”

  “She is long gone by now.” The bearded man spat on Kit’s stomach. She gritted her teeth and forced her hands not to smash the man’s foot.

  “Let’s tie her legs too.” Vyrin shouldered his metal rod.

  “Who plans on carrying me?” Kit asked

  The men’s faces turned white. Several crossed themselves.

  “Yes…well, just her arms then.” Vyrin said. No one moved. “Fine. I will do it. Help me lift her up.”

  The men hoisted Kit. Once she was on her feet, they stepped away and wiped their hands on their coats. The bearded man dropped his club and bent over to retrieve it. She took the chance to drive her knee into his face. The man staggered back, and blood gushed from his broken nose.

  “That is for your bad manners. Your mother should have taught you to never spit on a lady.” She held her arms out in front of her with her wrists together. “You may bind me now.”

  The men shared a look. Vyrin stepped forward and wrapped a thin cord around her wrists. They formed a circle around her, except for the bearded man. He sat against a building with his head tilted back, holding his nose. Someone shoved Kit forward, and the townsmen matched her pace.

  Timothy’s scent cloyed the air, and she breathed deep. She hated to admit that she missed his scent. He would regret that admission when she saw him next. She glanced up to see that the window to her room was open. She half expected to see him looking down at her. Her only option was to trust Yuzu, as much as it rankled. She watched the inn over her shoulder until it was out of sight.

  Kit sneezed. The confounded smoke was back. She frowned and looked at the sky. A heavy gray haze hung in the chill air, just above the highest slanted roof.

  “Why is the smoke so dense? We should be far enough away from the fires.” Vyrin wrinkled his nose.

  “The wind maybe,” one of the men said.

  Kit frowned. The air was still.

  The men prodded her down several streets and toward the heart of the town. The church’s spire peeked over the slatted roofs and disappeared into the smoke. The streets opened into a plaza. The church waited in a forest of weathered tombstones and vaults. Stained glass windows glittered in the smoky light. A few cobblestoned walkways, broken by brown grass, divided the large cemetery. The patches of grass felt wrong, trapped by stone roads and whitewashed buildings. Kit walked with her head held high, pretending the townsmen were an escort. Once night fell, she figured it wouldn’t prove too difficult to get away and find Timothy. Her escort stopped at the foot of
the church’s staircase. Children and women sitting and working on various chores looked up. Children pointed at her exposed ears. Sister Tera waited at the top of the stairs.

  The nun’s eyes were tight around the corners. Gray bags shadowed the lower lids. The nun’s gaze settled on Kit. Kit puffed her chest up and held the nun’s glare. It wasn’t easy. She wondered if her own eyes looked so tired and worried. Her fool shepherd was going to bring her wrinkles and make her ears go bald! Finally, the nun looked away. Kit grinned.

  The nun descended the stairs and stopped before Kit. “I finally caught you, demon.”

  “It is nice to see you again too, Sister.” Kit lifted her bound hands. “Excuse me if I don’t hug you.”

  “You have a fast tongue still. We shall see if you can joke when you burn at the stake.”

  “What crime have I committed?” Kit asked.

  “What crime?” Tera gestured. “Look around. You brought God’s judgment on us for your evil ways.”

  “I brought God’s judgment?” Kit shook her head. “It is just an illness. Even if it was God’s judgment, do you think he would kill an entire town instead of just killing me?”

  “He punishes those who harbor creatures like you.” Tera jabbed her finger into Kit’s chest.

  Kit’s nose itched. The air grew thicker with smoke. Didn’t anyone else notice? “It doesn’t make sense for God to punish anyone except me. Let him strike me if my life is such a sin. I am tired of being told I shouldn’t be alive. If I am the sinner, I alone should be punished, right?”

  Sister Tera frowned, and her brow knit.

  A voice rang out. “Fire cleans! The town shall be reborn! We shall be reborn!”

  Kit’s tail furled under her skirts. She knew that voice!

  Black, acrid smoke wafted into the plaza. Out of the billowing black smoke appeared a small army of people, their once garish clothing charred and stained with soot. Women, children, and men held torches aloft. As they marched toward the church, people surged into the adjoining buildings like rabbits darting from a hunter. They battered down doors and smashed windows to get inside. A heartbeat later orange flames chased them back out.

  “God’s Will be done! Honheim. New Honheim!” The roar of the townspeople’s collective voice made Kit want to clamp her hands over her ears. Evelyn marched ahead of the crowd. Her black dress blew around her.

  Sister Tera grabbed Kit’s shoulder. “Always, something happens when I lay hold of you. It is as if you are protected by God himself. You will not escape me again, fox. Watch her!” She shoved Kit toward the gaggle of men and stalked toward Evelyn.

  Most of the buildings on the edge of the cemetery blazed. The crowd of people halted at Evelyn’s upraised hand.

  “Welcome to the day of rebirth, Sister!” Evelyn spread her arms wide.

  The nun swept everyone with her gaze. Kit’s guards ignored her and focused on the nun and Evelyn. Even the children stopped and watched the fire eating the homes. It seemed that everyone had forgotten about her, despite the nun’s order. She shifted sideways a pace. Best not to attract too much attention. No one noticed.

  “Have you all gone mad? You are burning your own homes.” Sister Tera pointed at the crowd. “Why are you following her? She is a madwoman.”

  “I was a fool.” Evelyn laid a hand on Sister Tera’s shoulder. “Water and soap only clean so well. Now fire can make things new. It took the fire of God’s judgment, this illness, to teach me.”

  Kit took two more sidesteps before Vyrin turned his head. She froze. He watched her a moment before returning his attention to the nun and madwoman. Kit inched behind a wide man straining his sheepskin coat to reach his knife. The wide man stared slack-jawed at the thick smoke and didn’t notice. She slipped it out of the sheath and flipped it in her hand. The sharp blade sliced the rope and nicked her palm. She slipped the knife into her belt sheath. Too easy. Kit glanced around the man and saw the wall of fire that burned behind Evelyn. The sight of the fire spreading across the town shocked her. She felt every hair stand upright on her ears.

  “Have you lost your mind, Evelyn?” Tera shook off the woman’s hand.

  Kit tore her gaze from the conflagration. The street to the right leads back to the inn, if I remember right. Kit sidestepped a little further. She could make it if she ran. Her eyes burned from the smoke, and hot wind slapped at her. Children coughed. The people around Evelyn stood their ground, ignoring the fire that licked its chops like some great dog.

  “We need to rebuild, Sister,” a grimy man said. “The Prophetess is right. We have to start anew. God burns out our sins with illness. We have to burn out the town.”

  Kit inched to the right. She waved at Vyrin with one hand when he looked again. He returned to watching the nun. Silly boy didn’t even notice my hands were free.

  The nun looked at the people who had now fanned across the plaza to avoid the flames that reached across the cobblestones. Kit had to get away before the fire touched the patches of grass breaking the cobblestones. It wouldn’t take much time for the fire to hop across those patches.

  “The days of sinful festivals are over.” Evelyn announced with a voice that carried. “Clean. Now we can all be clean. Go, clean this house of God.” She pointed.

  Evelyn’s people swarmed the church grounds. They raced across the plaza and through the town of tombs. People around Kit started to flee. Adults swept up children and ran away from their torch-bearing neighbors. Kit darted away with them. The men guarding her tried to stop the flow of Evelyn’s people with pleas and fists, but numbers overwhelmed them. The human tide crashed up the stairs and through the open church doors.

  Kit raced past a gnarled tree just as it ignited from a thrown torch. People’s screams mingled with the sounds of the conflagration’s gluttony. She coughed and ran away from the plaza. All around her, orange and red lapped at the windows. A man laughed as he smashed a window and threw in his torch. The heat made Kit’s tail hairs curl beneath her skirts. She leaped over a woman who crawled out of a doorway billowing smoke. The woman pleaded for help.

  Kit ignored her and ran.

  She couldn’t save everyone. There was only one person she could save. There was one person she would save even if she had to singe her tail doing it.

  Chapter 7

  Timothy dipped the ink nib and finished copying the sentence. His handwriting was not as graceful as Aunt Mae’s, but it would have to do. He reached for his teacup. It was empty, and he frowned into it. His throat was as dry as the parchment that drank his ink. Sighing, he hefted the teapot, but even that was empty. He stood and stretched, back popping from long hours hunched over the desk. As much as he grumbled about his work, it had allowed them to buy the house on the edge of town. The house had a nice garden, and it was far enough away to be private but also not far enough from town to be a hassle. Kit liked the house, and he liked the house because she liked it. She kept talking about children. He felt his face flush at the thought. He wasn’t even sure if they could have children. One thing at a time. First, they had to be properly married.

  She didn’t want a ring, of course. She had just about torn his head off at the idea. Foxes don’t wear rings! Foxes are free, and rings are a human sign of possession. Well, he figured a necklace should work. It would lie close to her heart. He laughed. She would bruise his shins at that thought. He paused as the flush left his face. It felt like he had had that heat on his cheeks for a long time. It felt odd to blink and not have his eyes burn his eyelids. No matter. Today was the day. He pulled the necklace from his pocket. The delicate silver chain caught the sunlight streaming into his study. A small tear-shaped moonstone set in simple filigree rotated in the light. He wore a heavier chain with an emerald against his chest. It seemed fitting to wear a stone the same color as Kit’s eyes. Well, not the same color. Her eyes were deeper than any emerald, but it was close.

  He pocketed the moonstone and pushed away from the desk. Today was a good day. The smell of smoke was s
trong in his nostrils as he stepped outside their small home.

  Kit sat on her favorite bench in the garden. White tufted ears flicked toward him. Her red hair danced over her shoulders, and her white-tipped tail gave her a measure of grace no human woman could match. She wore a green dress—pale compared to her eyes—that hugged her perfect small chest. Timothy was surprised his face didn’t heat again. Who said large chests were best? He dug into his pocket and pulled out the necklace.

  “Timothy!” Kit suddenly yelled. She ran across the gardens, grabbed his shoulders, and shook him. Hard. “Timothy!”

  His eyes snapped open. A young girl stood over him. Her odd oval eyes were tight. They reminded him of Kit’s eyes, but color was wrong. These eyes were brown, and dirt smeared the face. Kit didn’t like dirt on her face. He squinted against the harsh orange light and lifted a hand to shade his eyes. His hand froze midway. Blue veins stood out against skin stretched tight over tendon and bone. Faded purple blotches speckled his too white skin. Weakness weighed on him, as if he had worked shearing an endless line of sheep and pulled a cart of books up a hill that stretched into forever.

  He reached through his memory holes. He remembered Kit with Trent. It felt like years ago. Evelyn. Her hazel gaze ghosted through his mental fingers. He knew he had seen his mother and spent time with her. More holes.

  The dark-haired girl stared down with concern. Who is she? “Finally! I thought I was never going to wake you. You’re the shepherd, right?”

  Timothy’s tongue was dust. He tried to work his voice but nothing would come. He nodded. He pulled himself to a sitting position, arms shaking with the effort. He looked up to find the girl holding a cup. He snatched it and gulped. Water scraped his throat.

  “Thank you.” His voice rasped. “What is your name?”

  The girl refilled the cup from a chipped blue pitcher. “Yuzu. I—Kit sent me to find you.”

  Timothy scratched his cheek. A thick beard scratched back at his fingers. Just how long had he been sick? A long time, apparently.