Ash Eater

by Emerson, Joanna

  “He was my assistant here in the cathedral. The two of them used to keep the place clean and run errands for me. They would even clean the basement and explore the catacombs. He was a brave boy then, selfless and fearless. And then Silas died.”

  I look at him, afraid to ask how, hoping he’ll tell me.

  “It was the fire giants, the last time they came to destroy the city. Silas refused to take the time to put on his full armor, thought he’d be able to rescue our people without sword or helmet or shield. You wear his helmet now, and the sword…”

  “Yes?”

  “It rests beside the other sword under the other suit of armor, the one that belongs to Galen.”

  “Will Galen be brave again?”

  “He may be.”

  “Can I have a cloth or two for a bandage?”

  “Of course.” He reaches into a basket beside him and pulls out two strips. “Galen prepared these for me many years ago.”

  “Thank you. And thanks for talking to me. I think you told me exactly what I needed to hear.”

  Outside the cathedral, Galen sits in the mud, tying a not so clean rag onto his wounded arm.

  I clear my throat and hold up the clean strips of cloth from Samuel.

  Galen looks up at me and drops his attempt with the dirty rag. “Thanks.”

  “I thought you might like clean ones that won’t bring infection into the wound.”

  He holds his arm out toward me. “Would you mind?”

  “I’d be glad to help you.” I sit at his side and begin to brush away dirt and grime with one of the cloths. The other I tie around his arm, securely so he has mobility but the bandage won’t fall off. At least that’s my hope.

  “So you’re going now?” he whispers, catching my glance.

  “Yeah. The lamb told me to go as soon as the wind dies down, and I, well, it looks like no one much wants me here.”

  His face falls as if he’s hurt by this remark. “Do you know which way you’re going?”

  “I’m guessing I’ll descend the southern slopes, since that might be the straightest route.”

  “And also the most dangerous. That path is crawling with ogres, goblins and stone giants.”

  “Stone giants?”

  “More reclusive than the fire giants, and less friendly if you go through their territory.”

  “Yeah, but I need to go, and there’s no other way.” I grip the hilt of my sword.

  “There is another way. It’s just as frightening, but not as dangerous.” He stands and looks over my shoulder into the cathedral. “I’ll have to go in there to show you.”

  I hold out my hand to him. “I’ll go with you.”

  As soon as he takes hold of my hand, a look of resolve transforms his face. “Let’s do this.”

  He peers tentatively through, holding onto the lintel post. His eyes drink in the stories on the stained glass. I wish I knew which one holds his attention so thoroughly. “I’ve missed this place.” He steps through, gazing on the walls and ceiling.

  “I think Samuel missed you.”

  “I know. I shouldn’t have left the way I did, I just couldn’t stand to be here without Silas around. I assume Samuel told you about Silas.”

  “He did.”

  “I’ve never met a truer friend, not on this mountain. Did you know that the helmet and shield you wear were once his?”

  “Samuel said at that.”

  “It’s fitting that you should wear them, Miya. You’re the only other person here to be my friend.”

  I press my palm against his and smile. “I’m glad you call me a friend.”

  As we walk toward Samuel, my legs start to feel weak. I wonder if Galen’s do as well.

  Samuel turns as we step close, and opens his arms wide to Galen.

  Without a word, Galen slips his hand from mine and wraps his arms around the ancient elf.

  “It’s so good to see you again, boy,” Samuel says.

  “Yeah.” His voice cracks and he wipes his hand against his cheek. “Thank you for looking out for my brother and my sister.”

  “Any sign of your other sister?” Samuel asks.

  Galen shakes his head.

  “Don’t give up hope, boy. She’s a resilient one. Just like you.”

  Galen rests his head on the old elf’s shoulder and wipes his cheek again.

  “I see you found Miya,” Samuel says.

  “I don’t remember who found who first, but I’m glad. I’m going to help her.”

  A smile brightens the old elf’s face. “I’m so glad. She can show you what has been kept especially for you.”

  “What’s that?” Galen asks.

  Samuel leans over Galen’s arm to look at me. “Take him to the chest, human child.”

  When Galen leaves Samuel’s embrace, he takes my hand. He doesn’t hesitate, he just does.

  Hand in hand, Galen and I walk toward the far wall, our footsteps soft over the smooth stone.

  When I open the chest, he gasps.

  “What’s this?” He pulls out a breastplate that all but matches my own.

  “It’s your armor.” I lift up the belt. “Let me help you get this on.”

  He stands still and patient as I hold the belt up against him, trying to figure out how it goes. It looks simpler than mine, but that still doesn’t mean it’ll be easy.

  “You okay?” His eyes twinkle with the question.

  “Just give me a minute. I can figure this thing out. We’re not in any rush anyway. The lamb said to wait until the wind died down.”

  “Then why were you so eager to leave earlier?”

  My cheeks warm. Part of me wants to storm off rather than answer this question.

  Galen’s face softens toward me. “I know it’s hard for us to accept new people on the mountain, especially humans.”

  “Is it my fault?” I clip the belt around his waist, hesitant to let my fingers touch the shirt that clings to him.

  “It’s definitely not your fault.”

  “Then why do I feel like this?” I walk to the other side of him, untwisting the leather straps that will go over his shoulders.

  He takes hold of my fingers as I drape the straps over his shoulder. “I wish you could stay here with us.”

  I lean my forehead against his muscular back. “I have somewhere I need to be, Galen.”

  “I know.”

  I can hear him buckle the straps into place.

  “Besides,” I say, “why do you guys stay here if it’s destroyed by fire giants every few years?”

  His shoulder blades rub against my forehead as he shrugs. “What are our options? The desert is worse. It’s full of shifting sands and quicksand pits. My mother once told me that a large group of elves tried to pioneer there when she was a child, and only one of them returned alive.”

  “Ugh. That’s awful. Yeah, you wouldn’t want to try the Pit of Shame either. It’s pretty wretched there.”

  “You survived that pit?”

  I shudder away memories. “Barely.”

  “How did you get out?”

  “Kitta, my faerie friend, brought these blue eagles that helped me escape from the snakes and the dragon. One of those eagles, Elos,” I choked up as I said his name, “flew me over the desert. He was going to fly me over these mountains, but then the giants came.”

  “That’s why they came.” He slips his arms through each sleeve of the breastplate.

  “What do you mean that’s why?”

  “Well…” He fashions each clasp of the breastplate. “The giants only come when there’s been a sighting of the blue eagles.”

  “It’s not the eagles’ fault,” I spit out defensively.

  “How are we supposed to know when we always see the connection?”

  “One of the giants killed my friend Elos. The giant grabbed his talons when he tried to fly over the mountain. That’s how I ended up here.”

  He sets his hand against my cheek. “I’m sorry.”

  “Th
at’s okay. I mean, it was awful, but I met you because of it, so in a strange way I’m glad I landed here. I just wish the reasons were different.” I tilt my face to look at him.

  He’s staring at me. His lips are so close to mine.

  It’s so quiet I can hear his gentle but rapid breath. It brushes against my cheek and chin.

  “Did you get the rest of the armor?” I ask. “Can I help you with your boots?”

  “I’ll get those. There’s a shield here and it looks like there’s a sword under it.” He lifts the shield.

  There are two swords under it. He sets the shield against the chest and picks up both of the swords. “Silas and I used to spar with these. I…hmm…” He hesitates for a moment, then hands one of the swords to me.

  “I already have one.” I hold out the ornate scabbard and handle.

  “Yes, but is its blade as fine as this?” He pulls his sword out. The steel is strong and flawless.

  I pull out the sword that’s at my side. It’s nowhere near as shiny and notches mar the blade. “Mine looks like a toy in comparison.” I move this sword to the other side of my belt and place the new one where the first had been.

  He smiles. “You look fierce, Miya.”

  “Is that okay?” I duck my head below his gaze, but his gaze follows me.

  “Sure is.”

  We stand facing each other in that semi-awkward silence.

  “Hey,” he says at last, “I can’t hear the wind anymore.”

  “Me neither.”

  He dons his helmet. Its fit is perfect on him. “You ready?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Let’s do this thing.” His confidence seeps into me as he takes hold of my hand.

  *

  Samuel beams as we approach. “I’m glad you both have your full armor on.”

  “I just hope it protects us,” Galen says.

  “What route will you be taking?” the old elf asks.

  “Through the catacombs.”

  “And do you know if it goes all the way through the mountain?”

  “I’ve seen the far end before, with Silas.”

  “Did you now?” Samuel’s wrinkles deepen with his smile. “And what did you see?”

  Galen shrugs and looks away. “I thought you’d be mad at me.”

  “I’m not mad. But I’m terribly curious. I’ve never gone all the way through the tunnel.”

  “It’s worth it. You should sometime. But I should say goodbye to Galahad and Gwen before I leave.”

  As Galen shares breakfast with his brother and sister, several of the other children assemble around me.

  A little elf girl looks up at me with wide, pleading eyes. “Are you leaving us so soon?”

  I smile at her and this unexpected clinging. “I have somewhere I need to be. Maybe you can go there too, soon.”

  “Can I come with you now?”

  “The lamb told me I need to go to him, and I don’t know how dangerous the path there will be.”

  “He’s the one I really want to see,” she says.

  “Me too!” the other children clamor.

  I run my fingers through the elf-girl’s hair. “I’m glad. The giants have gone. Go find your families and tell them it’s safe to come to the cathedral. Tell them the lamb isn’t angry at them.”

  Galen takes my hand. His face is damp and glistens in the stained-glass light. “Okay, I’m ready to go.”

  I kiss the little elf-girl on the head and blow a kiss to the rest of the children.

  Their stifled tears soundtrack my journey through one of the doors at the far end of the cathedral.

  I hope I can see them all again one day. It’s so strange and heartening to be liked, accepted, desired. I long for more of this. Maybe because I know what an immense abyss lies between the doling out of rejection and the doling out of acceptance.

  “Was Galahad upset?” I ask Galen as we pass pantries full of food stores.

  “Not as upset a Gwen, but she says she loves the cathedral. And Samuel promises she’ll be okay. Also, Galahad said he would search for Gloria.”

  I stare at him inquisitively. “Gloria?”

  “My other sister.”

  “Are you upset at me for taking you away from them?” I ask.

  “Hush. No more of that kind of talk. I want to be with you.”

  “What about what you said to Galahad yesterday?”

  He stops and hangs his head. “I was scared. It’s the air here.” He shakes his head. “I shouldn’t use that as an excuse. I wanted to be near you but I was afraid. I promise to never let fear control me like that again.”

  “Okay. I’ll try not to as well.”

  “That’ll be important in the tunnel.” He stands in front of an ancient wood and iron door. “Fears you never thought you had, or that you thought you defeated, will spring up from nowhere. But just remember they aren’t real.”

  He pulls open the thick door. It creaks loudly and dust billows out. “Would you like to hold the door for me, or go in first?”

  …if I make my bed in hell,

  behold, thou art there.

  Psalm 139:8

  Chapter 27

  The Tunnel of Fears

  I give his hand a gentle squeeze. “Um, I’ll go in first. I don’t mind.” It’s dusty and creepy, but not too bad.

  When the door closes behind us, sealing us in darkness, I grope for Galen’s hand again.

  “Take out your sword,” he says.

  I pull it out and it casts a warm light at our feet. It lights the path for several feet ahead.

  When Galen pulls out his sword, it shines the light a few feet further. He takes hold of my free hand and leads me carefully through the winding, narrow path.

  Strange noises swell to our left and right, moaning, faint howling. Something scurries on my side. I angle my sword to shine its light and expose this thing. If I even want to see it.

  On my left, there’s an old stone casket. Above the casket stands someone dressed in thick black robes. I shine the light higher so I can see who this person is. The pale feminine face is as hard as stone, like the mask-face of the kitsune.

  The face contorts as she lets forth a screeching scream.

  I jump toward Galen, shaking, hardly daring to breathe. “I want to go. I want to go. I want to get out of here. Please!”

  He wraps his arm around my shoulder, his shield against my back. “It’s not real. It can’t hurt you.”

  “She seems real enough. I want to go, Galen.”

  “Shh…you’re going to make it through to the other side just fine.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Silas and I used to challenge ourselves with these catacombs and the fears here—you know, just for fun.”

  “You’re such a boy,” I tease as I press into his side and pick up the pace. “You must think I’m such a girl for being as scared as I am.”

  “I do think you’re a girl, but not in the way you say it. You’re brave, Miya, more than you know. The first time Silas and I ventured this far we peed in our pants.”

  “But you’ve been to the other side of this tunnel. You must not be afraid of anything.”

  “We both know that’s not true.” His breath graces my cheek. “But you’re here.”

  I’m less afraid now that we walk like this. “How long does it take to get to the other side?”

  “We should get there by sunset. I hope so, at least. And we’ll want to sleep in the tunnel rather than travel down the last part of the slope at night. Trolls and giants are too big to fit through the cave entrance. I mean, unless a baby troll stumbled in and got lost in the tunnels, but that’s very unlikely.”

  “What about the other creatures?” I ask.

  “There shouldn’t be any others, at least not real ones. I’ll stay up as long as I can, so I can guard you. In the meantime, don’t think about it.”

  I try not to think about it, especially as more and more bones litter the path.
>
  These are elven and human bones. I want to throw up. I’d make a terrible doctor.

  The noises increase too. Screeching. Rusty squeaks like the metal chain of a swing pushed by a breeze. If I look through the gloom, I can see the rusty swing set. And the empty eyes of gargoyle-like beasts swinging there. And their whispers and snickers and fingers pointed at me.

  “Don’t look at them,” Galen says. “They want your attention so they can terrify you and chase you away. Silas and I determined that they’re quite territorial.”

  “But you said they weren’t real.”

  “I meant that they aren’t solid like you and me. All they have are scare tactics.”

  “My mom used to say that about ghosts in my world back home.”

  “She sounds like a smart lady.”

  “She is.”

  “Do you miss her?”

  “I do, but I don’t know where she is.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I had a dream while I was here that she sold her house and moved far away.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “I don’t. I wonder if it’s because of my brothers and me. I know she’ll say it’s not, but I wouldn’t blame her. We did so much to make it hard on her.”

  “Was it hard on you too?”

  I nod. “More than I care to talk about.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I mean, it’s nothing like losing your best friend, or having your city destroyed every few years for no good reason.”

  “Let’s not compare, okay? What happens here is awful. Whatever happened to you was awful.”

  “It was my brother, Ryan. He hurt me.” And I hate myself for saying it aloud yet again.

  “I’m sorry.” He holds me closer, but doesn’t say anything for a long time. The noises of the catacombs fill our ears. “What happened?”

  “I’m not sure I can even say it aloud, especially not here. And a lot of other people have been through much worse.”

  “But it hurt you.”

  “He was the biggest person in my world, you know? Outside of my mom, that is. I think that’s why it hurt so bad.”

  “And where was your dad?”

  “It’s just my mom and Abbie.” Oh, why did I say that?

  “Who’s Abbie?”

  “Um—she’s—um.” I don’t want to lie about Mom and Abbie any more, but the words won’t come out of my throat. I force the words out, as few of them as possible. “My mom and Abbie are married. Well, not married, because they aren’t allowed to be, since there are laws against that still.” Great, now I won’t shut up.