I tried once again to break down the walls of my cage, which might soon be my casket. The light dimmed and went out. I fumbled in blackness to find more fuel, but things were scattered everywhere.
I felt moisture on my skin and licked a salty droplet. I was crying again. I gasped, and the tears stopped, but there had been a few. I shook as pent up emotions battered their way out of me. I had killed. But I could still feel—shame, fear, regret—and I could still cry. After too many years, I could cry.
The shutter creaked open. Night and stars was visible.
“Harald?”
There was no sound. Now, ashamed to be seen in this state, I wiped my face and licked the moisture from my hands. There was not enough water to waste.
The shutter remained open, so I went over to it. “What do you want?”
I put my hands around the bars, and my fingers brushed something leathery. I pulled back. It was a bogle, camouflaged and invisible in the semi-dark.
22│ SACRIFICES
~
Had the bogle opened the window?
“Can you unbar the door?” I was being whimsical and never expected an answer. There were a few slithery dry sounds as it scampered off. At least it had left me fresh air and a view of something besides this box.
Surprisingly, I heard more rustlings against the door. I hurried over and put my ear to it. There were tiny grunts then a frustrated curse, “Yeck!”
A moment later, it was back at the window, no longer camouflaged. Ugly eyes and large, hairy ears pointed my way. “Sorry,” it said in a twitter. “Too little.”
I knew bogles could say a few words, like parrots, but I had no idea they were so intelligent. Real hope rose in me. It hadn’t been able to get the door open, but it might still be able to help.
“Do you know where Highcrowne is?”
It looked around then pointed west.
“Yes! Can you take a message to someone there?” I wasn’t sure if anyone would listen to a bogle. People’s first reaction was to kick them. But I had to try.
“A lot of someones there. Big, big, many peoples,” the creature said.
“Yes, but I want you to find just one.”
“...Sounds like work. What you give me?”
I looked around, assessing my situation. “I don’t even have food and water.”
“I like food,” it said, licking its lips.
“Well, I don’t have any.”
“Oh.... Bye, bye.”
“Wait!” I said, panicked. The creature stopped. A bogle showing up was the only piece of luck I’d had. I needed to figure a way to make use of it. “What if I promise to give you food later, when I get out of here?”
“You want a bargain?” it asked, raising one bushy eyebrow.
“If that’s what it takes.”
“A bargain cannot be broken. A bargain is serious. You sure?”
“Yes!”
It hesitated. “Ok. Message now, food later. Who get message?”
Good question. Uncle came to mind. He would tear Harald apart, if he didn’t consider this another test of my ability. What use was a Thorne who couldn’t survive a walker raised by the Dead God’s necromancy? Uncle only cared for survivors. And would Conrad even want to hear my name again after I embarrassed him in front of his sergeant? There was Duane, but he wasn’t the heroic type. Why would he try to rescue me?
“Can you find Erick?” I asked. He was the only one I could count on. “He’s Solhan, like me, wears a hooded cloak and carries pouches full of magic....”
What was I doing? I had no idea where Erick could be found. There was no way I’d be able to direct the bogle to him. “I’ve changed my mind. Go to Karolyne. She runs a cafe in the Outskirts. Tell her where I am and I need help. Please.”
“Confused.” He—I had decided the bogle was male—shook his head, and a large black bug was almost dislodged, but it scurried behind one hairy ear. Out of politeness, I repressed a shudder.
“Find Karolyne. There’s a grall with her that you can’t miss. He cooks food.” The bogle should be able to locate the one grall in town.
“Food?” He licked his lips.
“Yes, but tell her about me first. Otherwise, you won’t get food.” She’d likely smash him with a broom if she caught him in her larder. The little guy had better talk fast.
“Me go.”
“Hurry!”
After a few more mutters of, “Food!”, the bogle was gone. Did it even understand what I’d asked?
~
The next morning, Harald closed the shutter without a word to me. He was likely used to bogles messing with things.
My thirst was agonizing, my head aching, and there was nothing to distract me from it but hunger. I scavenged through the contents of the wagon one more time, looking for anything edible. I had a mental inventory of it by now. I found an old wineskin, the residue at the bottom practically vinegar, but I drank it anyway. I briefly wondered if lamp oil was drinkable, but I didn’t want to use up that supply. I had the lantern relit and sat, holding it against my gurgling stomach, staring at Jhenna.
At times, my agony faded, and I felt light, floating, unbothered by my predicament. I liked those moments, but they were too few.
The wagon was on the move again. When it stopped for the night, I begged Harald and received another splash of precious water. With a smile, he told me there was only one more day left.
The bogle was nothing but a wistful dream. The creature was too stupid to carry a message, and, even if it managed to find Karolyne and tell her I was in danger, how would anyone reach me before it was too late? The oxen were slow, but a bogle’s tiny legs made them even slower. There was no help coming.
I spent my last day of life kicking at a side wall, hoping to break through the wood there since it wasn’t reinforced. I was weak, my efforts useless, but I had nothing better to do.
Jhenna moved.
I stopped pounding on the wagon and held my breath, all attention focused on her, wondering if this was it. There it was again: the fingers on her left hand twitched. I had run out of time.
I jumped to my feet and grabbed the flask of lamp oil I’d kept in reserve. I was terrified of stepping within her reach, but in a moment, it would be too late, so I sprinkled the fuel over her.
The liquid ran off marble skin and glass beads but pooled in the silken dress. Would she even burn now? Was it too late? If I’d done it right away, I might have saved Harald, but I would have burned too. I would have missed out on these last days of life, of gnawing hunger, of tortuous waiting.... At least bargaining with a bogle had been interesting. I didn’t care about saving Harald anyway. Still, I wished I could have saved myself.
She sat up, and I was surprised to see how graceful she moved. I had expected something monstrous, but Jhenna was lovelier than she’d been in life.
I’d heard that when the Dead God’s power first animated them, they were filled with it, brimming with holy energy. This was when they were most dangerous. Over time, the god’s power withdrew and the corpse began to rot. Survivors of the wars in the human lands reported near skeletons throwing themselves at city walls. They were ineffectual in that state, but I couldn’t wait the months or years it would take for Jhenna to weaken.
She looked at me, and I felt cold settle in my bones, the yawning chasm of death falling away before me. It was not her eyes that gazed into mine but the eyes of my god. He had murdered nations.
I wanted to beg for my life, plead to be the one exception to His wrath, but there was no point. I stood straighter and raised the flaming lantern in my hand, defiant.
She darted forward, quicker than I could blink, and took my wrist in her hard grip. My joints ground together, and I gritted my teeth against the pain.
This wouldn’t stop me. I smiled and relaxed my fingers, letting the lamp clatter to the ground. I smashed the glass cover with my boot, and the escaped fire raced up Jhenna’s dress. It licked at my leg. Instinct told me to run, but I c
ouldn’t move.
Jhenna’s mouth opened in a silent scream. A hollow voice issued from the darkness of her throat. It said, “Come to me, Eva.”
The fire was only inches away, but I shivered at the god’s words. He had spoken, and He knew my name.
“Your blood and your heart and your soul are mine,” He said. Jhenna released my wrist and held out a hand, inviting me to take it. “Come home.”
Flaming liquid ran off her hard skin and fell as golden droplets. She resisted the fire, but the floor of the wagon blackened as the wood began to burn. The heat was now worse than my hunger. Smoke filled the claustrophobic chamber and scoured my throat.
“You can’t have me.” My voice trembled, betraying my fear. “And you can’t have Jhenna either. There’ll be nothing left but ashes.”
“There is no escape.” The mouth shut with a clack of teeth.
I felt a sickening sensation in my gut, like the world had tried to shake me loose. I’d never heard of a corpse speaking. Yet, it had spoken to me. Why? Why did the Dead God know my name?
Maybe He knew everyone’s.
A wild look suddenly twisted Jhenna’s features. That chasm behind her eyes closed, the god’s awareness was gone, leaving a vacant dead thing in its place.
This was what I had expected. A risen corpse was insane—it tore everything around it to shreds until it tasted blood. Life was needed to satisfy it, to sustain it on its journey to Solheim. Or maybe it hated the living and simply wanted to kill, who knew? I had hoped the fire would have finished me before this. The hand once held out invitingly was now hooked, ready to strip the flesh from my bones. She charged.
I dodged. I wanted to die quickly, but I couldn’t fight the reflex.
She hit the wall, making the wood crack. I jumped on the bed, and she tore the mattress apart trying to reach me. Feathers drifted through the smoke.
The pillows and bedding burned; soon the whole wagon would be engulfed. When her outstretched arms tried to encircle me, I rolled away, and she punched through the wall in frustration. Screaming, she tore a few planks to splinters. The wagon jerked forward, the oxen reacting with fear.
There was now a narrow hole in the front of the wagon, a way out. But to reach it, I’d have to get past a burning dead woman.
I stood by the door. “I’m here, Jhenna.”
She screamed and rushed toward me again.
I threw myself beneath her arms. I heard more wood crack, the metal bar across the door clang loose and bounce on the ground. She’d made another exit, but I wouldn’t attempt to go past her again. I rolled across the bedding. The sleeve of my jacket caught fire. I kept going and climbed through the first hole Jhenna had made.
The wagon bumped over the rutted dirt road, the oxen out of control and running as fast as they could with a burning pile of wood strapped to them. I hopped to the ground and felt my ankle jam.
I rolled, trying to extinguish my clothes before my hair caught fire. The white fur was my favorite jacket, and it was ruined. I lay on my back and sucked in a lungful of air. Smoke billowed from the wagon, but the wind blew it away from me, so each breath was wonderfully fresh.
Harald was on the side of the road, open mouthed, staring at me. He must have abandoned the reins when Jhenna smashed through the wall. His reflex for living was as strong as mine, no matter how much he acted like he wanted to die.
Jhenna screamed, and I sat up.
The wagon was a pyre, and she was still kicking around inside it. A wheel splintered on the left side and sagged. The oxen, white-eyed and confused, their burden dragging strangely, circled around.
I stood, shaking with exhaustion, as Jhenna tore through the back door. She was on the road now, crouched and looking for me. I could run, but I was injured and too weak to get far. She would be upon me in seconds; only the wagon stood between us. I had a desperate idea.
I hissed, enduring the pain in my ankle, and ran toward the wagon, toward Jhenna, but really toward the moaning oxen.
The god demanded a sacrifice—it didn’t have to be human. I veered to the side to avoid being run over, but stayed abreast of the animals. The broken wagon dug a furrow in the frozen earth. The oxen were tired, moving slow enough for me to keep up.
Jhenna was a marble nude polished by fire. She saw me and smiled with mad hunger. She didn’t run but took great strides, reaching me in the space of a few heartbeats.
I held the bridle of an ox, and when she swiped at my face, I threw myself over the animal’s back and stood on the wooden neck of what remained of the wagon. She missed and struck the ox instead. Her blow was like a sledgehammer. The animal screamed as bone splintered, and its legs buckled. She reached for me.
I leaned back too far and fell. The hoof of a terrified ox loomed next to my face. I flinched away, and it bruised my cheek. I expected its weight to sink into my gut or crush a limb at any moment, and I forgot all about Jhenna as I tried to stand.
She caught the sleeve of my jacket and tore it away. Her empty eyes were so close I thought they would swallow me. Better to risk being trampled.
I ducked down and scrambled beneath the legs of the second ox. He—from my position it was easy to tell—kicked my thigh, but I made it out the other side with my flesh intact. The animal wasn’t so lucky.
She tore into its neck with hooked fingers, and blood sprayed across her skin. Her gaze turned feverish as life pulsed beneath her fingertips. She put her mouth over the wound, gulping fresh blood from the squirming animal’s neck. I shuddered. That’s what she had wanted to do to me.
I hoped the animals would make her forget about me, but there was no guarantee. I felt the urge to pray, but this was the Dead God’s domain, and He was the one who wanted me. Fearing a strike from the heavens, I whispered the Light Bringer’s name instead. Who knew if He listened to prayers…or would ever help a Solhan?
Jhenna looked up, and my breath caught. Was I next? She didn’t appear to see me, however. The corpse turned and walked toward the Eastern pass. I wasn’t about to stop her.
When she kept going and her form shrunk with distance, I exhaled. I was alive. The animals were dead. I turned away from their mangled remains, feeling like a monster for getting the helpless creatures killed, but glad that it was them and not me.
Harald was on his feet, staring daggers. “Why didn’t she kill you?”
I didn’t know. Perhaps the animals appeased her hunger, or perhaps it had something to do with the cold voice that issued from her throat. I hoped it had simply been the blood. The alternative was more frightening: It was never good to be noticed by gods.
Harald took a menacing step toward me. I tried to move but felt shaky. My head swam, and I fell over. I’d survived immolation and a walking corpse, but a pasty-faced mage and an embarrassing swoon were going to finish me off?
Lying with my cheek against the frozen scrub grass, I heard hoof beats. My head felt like a lead ball attached to my neck, but I managed to lift it and saw a horse and rider silhouetted against the sun. They headed towards us, the flaming wagon acting as a beacon.
Harald searched his belt pouch for spell ingredients. He probably planned to deal with this too-curious traveler before finishing me. As weary as I felt, I had to move, if not for myself then for the stranger. No one else should die.
I crawled to the shattered remains of the traces that held the dead oxen and found a scrap of wood. I faced Harald, holding it like a dagger. I was too far away, and I hadn’t yet managed to find my feet, but when I saw him making hand gestures, I threw the wood, striking him across the knuckles. He dropped the charm he held and swore.
The ground shook as a black warhorse rushed toward me, a cloaked figure leaning against its neck. I rolled aside, but he wasn’t after me. The stallion’s massive chest bashed Harald, who collapsed. The horse went after Jhenna next.
“Stop!” I warned the newcomer.
Jhenna’s walking corpse shouldn’t be messed with. I watched with stunned horror as the rider
circled her. She would tear him apart.
The cloaked figure dismounted. The wind blew his hood back, and I recognized Erick. No.
I staggered to my feet and stumbled after him, knowing there was nothing I could do to save him.
I saw his mouth move. Jhenna stopped in her tracks and faced him. The fire that had spent itself after having burnt up her clothes and hair, but which had left the rest of her untouched, suddenly revived itself.
Or had Erick conjured it?
It ate away at her body. The heat grew intense; I felt it where I stood. Erick was nearer but didn’t back away. Jhenna did not fight the flames, and soon she crumbled into a pile of blackened ash, like a burnt building collapsing under its own weight. By the time I reached them, the fire was out, and the pile of ash was unrecognizable as a person.
“Erick.” Amazement filled my voice, amazement that Erick had found me—almost in time—and that he had destroyed Jhenna.
He reached me in three strides and put his arms around me. “Eva. Thank the gods you’re alive.” His mouth was on mine, and I felt more tears cut through the soot caked in the corners of my eyes. This time they were tears of relief.
“Are you alright?”
I nodded. “Well...thirsty.”
He took a water skin and rations from his saddlebags. I drank until my stomach felt ready to burst, but when I saw the dried cakes, I swallowed one of those as well. I gagged, and tried to eat more slowly.
Erick stared across the frozen plain to the gap in the Eastern Mountains. “You were going to Solheim?”
“Harald was headed that way.” I coughed. “But I don’t think he expected Jhenna to let either one of us live long enough to get there.”
“It’s fortunate that Solheim’s pull is strong here. The walker would indeed have killed you if left to rampage.”
“Oh, she did plenty of rampaging.”
“Then it is a miracle you live. It’s time we discovered the meaning behind this. I will speak to Harald.”
Tangle of Thornes Page 21
