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Knight of Light

Page 4

by Deirdra Eden


  Hazella eyed me. My grip tightened on the weeds. I was sure Hazella knew I’d been inside.

  I awoke and rubbed bits of the straw bed from my hair. Since I discovered Cassi last week, I spent every private moment searching for a key or trying to open the cage without one.

  The dying fire lit the cottage with an eerie red glow. Hazella’s bed lay empty, and the table where Cassi’s cage usually rested stood vacant. Where could Hazella have taken Cassi in the middle of the night?

  My heart dropped, and my stomach twisted. My fingers trembled as I searched the cottage for the pixie. What if I was too late and Hazella had killed Cassi?

  Hazella’s angry shout came from behind the door of the backroom. Candlelight beamed between the cracks. I dropped to my knees and peered through a crack in the door. I couldn’t see Hazella or Cassi, but I heard the witch shout a furious string of threats.

  From my peephole, I saw two sets of feet standing in the forbidden room. I covered my mouth to muffle my gasp. Someone else was here, but no one ever came to the cottage, at least not on their own free will.

  Hazella’s book lay open on a tabletop, and she muttered instructions from a page. I distinctly heard the words: “gold,” “pixie,” and “ruby necklace.” What did Cassi have to do with Hazella’s old necklace? I tilted my head and tried to get a better look at the stranger. His hands moved as he talked. He was short and hairy, like a wolf, but he had the build of a man. Flickering candlelight distorted the features on his shadowy face.

  Something the man said must have made Hazella mad because she let out a blood-chilling shriek and threw a bottle on the floor. I sprang to my feet as shards of sparkling glass sprayed under the door. I sprinted across the room and dove into my bed. My trembling hands clutched the blanket. My heart pounded so hard, I was afraid Hazella would hear it—like a warning drum to inform her of my snooping mischief.

  The harder I tried to still my body, the more violently I quavered. The door to the back room creaked open. I pulled the blanket over my head and held my breath until the door closed again. I didn’t dare fall asleep until later that night after the stranger left.

  Two long days passed before Hazella departed for the villages and I could talk to Cassi in private.

  “Oh, Cassi, are you all right? What did they do to you?”

  Cassi’s face lit up, and she sparkled even brighter. “Cassi so happy to see Auriella!”

  I quickly evaluated the pixie. She still had her wings, limbs, and hair. I sighed with relief, then asked the next question weighing on my mind. “Who was that stranger?”

  Cassi shrugged. “Cassi could not see. Mean old witch takes Cassi’s dust and hide Cassi from big bad wolf-man.”

  “Wolf-man,” I repeated uneasily. “We have to get out of here.” I pushed on the stick frame, careful not to touch the smelly wolf fur and sticky spider webbing. Why did it have to be wolves and spiders, the two things Cassi and I were afraid of most?

  “Try opening it from the inside,” I instructed Cassi.

  Cassi shook her head. “Cassi sees fairy friend get stuck in sticky web. Big spider comes and bites into fairy.” Cassi wrung her hands together.

  I softened my eyes. “Did this really happen?”

  Cassi sat in the corner, pulled her knees close to her chest, and nodded.

  “I’m so sorry. What was your friend’s name?”

  “Morning Dew.” Cassi looked away and sighed. “Did wolfie eat Auriella’s friend?”

  I shook my head. “No, I was almost eaten by the wolves.”

  Cassi gasped.

  “See these scars?” I brushed back my tangled hair and pointed to a faint scar on my temple. I lifted my ragged dress to show Cassi the jagged scar on my leg in the narrow crescent shape of a wolf’s jaw.

  Cassi’s eyes were vivid with horror. “Auriella got away?”

  “Hazella saved me. She said I owed her for saving my life. That’s why I’m her slave.” I paused, my brave façade melted, and tears welled in my eyes. “Sometimes I wonder if it would have been better if the wolves had eaten me.”

  Cassi stood and reached through the cage to pat my hair. “It’s all right. Cassi help Auriella escape.”

  I lifted my eyes. “Cassi, your arm—. You can reach out!”

  Cassi’s wings fluttered. She grinned and pushed both arms out of the cage.

  “The magic must be weakening.” I wiped my face dry. “Let’s try to open it now.”

  I closed my eyes and touched the cage, hoping it wouldn’t still carry with it the frightening spell that had overwhelmed me the last time my hands had come in contact with it. I wasn’t as lucky as Cassi, it seemed. As soon as my fingers brushed the bristly fur, images of a hungry pack sprang into life. I couldn’t shut out the horrible vision. Fangs tore into my flesh. I screamed and clutched my calf. The illusion and pain dispersed when my hands left the cage. I pressed my palms over my eyes and groaned. I couldn’t give up, I had to keep fighting. I stood, brushed myself off, and resolutely reached for the cage again.

  “No!” Cassi shouted. “She’s back!” Her glittering eyes widened, and she pointed out the window. Hazella’s hunched-over figure ambled along the path.

  I covered the cage with the cloth, picked up the axe, and raced outside. From the tall grass, I retrieved the extra wood I’d chopped the day before and tossed it into a heap. Though my heart raced, I casually hacked at a fallen tree near the cottage. Hazella fumbled with her bags full of goods from the village.

  I drew my arm across my forehead and pretended to wipe away perspiration. Hazella scowled and looked at the pile of chopped wood before entering the cottage without saying a word.

  I tottered with a phony limp as I piled the wood next to the cottage. My heart pounded in my ears. Would Hazella notice anything unusual in the cottage, something out of place? I restacked the woodpile and watched for any sign of movement from the window. If Hazella hadn’t come to beat me by now, then I was probably safe.

  I pressed the door open a crack and assessed the room. Hazella counted a stack of gold coins on the table. I looked away and pretended I hadn’t noticed before limping toward the fireplace and dropping a log onto the embers.

  A hard knock resonated on the cottage door. Hazella and I both jumped. The old witch glared at me like I was the cause of this unexpected visit. Hazella’s face grew as red as a boiled beet. My hands went cold, and my body froze in place like a statue of ice.

  Hazella’s eyes narrowed to a slit under her heavy lids. Her yellowing fingernails extended like claws. Hazella slapped me across the face. My cheek stung as it started to swell.

  How could this unexpected visit be my fault? “I’m sorry.” I apologized anyway and took a deep breath to calm myself so I wouldn’t cry. If Hazella saw me crying, she would use the whip to punish me.

  Hazella retrieved a crystal jar on the shelf. She filled her hand with cobalt powder and blew it into my face. I sneezed. What Hazella didn’t know was that she had used the cobalt sleeping powder on me so often that I was immune to the effects.

  I yawned and pretended to stumble toward the straw bed behind the woodpile. I placed the back of my hand to my forehead and let my knees give out.

  Hazella opened the door. “What be ye doin’ here? We agreed midnight!” Hazella shrieked, and I heard her slap the stranger.

  The stranger mumbled something under his breath, then said audibly, “I finished the pendant of the necklace this morning and brought it right away, just as you asked.” Though he sounded frightened, I recognized his deep voice and his footsteps when he entered the cottage. My eyes were wide open, but I resisted the urge to sit up and look at him. Through the cracks in the woodpile, I saw a dagger and a bag of tools on his leather belt. His long beard swept across the ground as he shifted his weight and wrung his hands.

  “If yer ever surprisin’ me, I’ll be findin’ another metal worker, and I’ll use yer liver ta make a plague fer yer village.”

  “I need just a little more
dust and I will have the last link done tomorrow,” he said. Although his tone was pleasant, it sounded forced.

  I bit my lip. The last link of the necklace would be done tomorrow? If the necklace could make Hazella stronger, I had to find a way to get Cassi out of the cage in less than twenty-four hours, or we would both be killed.

  I had to get away by morning, even if that meant using the secret fire inside me to burn down the cottage. Hazella would expect me to take the trail. There had to be another way through the dense, wolf-infested forest.

  Hazella lifted a looking glass and smiled at her reflection. “It’ll all be over soon.” She ran her finger through the deep lines on her face. “Ye’ll be beautiful again.”

  I gagged and rolled my eyes.

  Hazella noticed me watching and pointed to the large black pot. “Clean this out! Yer always bein’ lazy when there be work ta do. Soon ye won’t be my problem anymore.” She grumbled with the barest hint of a cruel smile.

  I picked up a scrub brush and bar of lye. I dipped the brush into the remaining water and lathered it. Of course, I wouldn’t be Hazella’s problem anymore—once Cassi and I escaped. I clenched my teeth together and scrubbed the pot harder. After all I did to help, how could the decrepit old hag think of me as a problem?

  I recalled the stranger saying he would return tonight with the last link for the necklace. For some reason Hazella didn’t want me to know about him. The witch would probably try to use the cobalt sleeping powder on me again, or maybe she would try something stronger, like a sleeping stone.

  “I needs some tea,” Hazella demanded.

  I stood and wiped my soapy hands on my dirty skirt. I picked up the bucket and headed for the door to get more water. Finally, a chance to go outside and scout for an escape route in the woods.

  Hazella snatched the bucket from my hand. “I don’t have time this mornin’ fer a cripple. Ye walk like a three-legged horse on yer bad leg.” Hazella marched outside and slammed the door behind her.

  This was even better—alone in the cottage at last. I dashed to Cassi and tore the cloth off the cage. Cassi beamed, and I put my finger to my lips. “We need to find a way to distract Hazella and get out of here before the hairy-man comes back. I might have to set the cottage on fire. It could be dangerous.”

  Hazella’s shadow sped past the window. Her furious stride was all I had to see to know that the witch heard us talking. My heart dropped like an iron weight into my stomach. I knelt next to Cassi and gripped the table. My eyes darted around the room for someplace to hide, but I couldn’t move. Terror paralyzed me, locking me in place.

  Hazella stood in the doorway. Her face grew from red to purple, making her hair look grayer. “Come here, girl!” she snarled.

  There was nowhere to hide and no way to escape—I had to fight.

  I took a weak stance as if ready to fight. Hazella screamed with laughter. “Ye have no idea who yer dealin’ with.” The witch picked up a broom and snapped it in half over her knee. “I be the righteous one. I saved ye from Erebus’s Shadow Wolf. And once I finds out what yer power is, I’ll be negotiatin’ with him fer my reward.”

  Hazella gripped both my wrists with one hand; her fingernails pierced my skin. “I be tired of yer games. What did Erebus want with ye?”

  I shook my head, trying to clear the confusion and terror clouding my thoughts. “Erebus? Shadow Wolf?” I stammered, “I don’t know! I told you it was a mistake. I’m just an orphan—no one special.”

  Hazella squeezed my wrist with a crushing grip and tied my hands to the peg over the fireplace mantel. “This be yer last chance.” Hazella retrieved a long whip with frayed edges. “Does Erebus want to be drinkin’ the blood runnin’ through yer veins? What is so special about ye?”

  “Please,” I begged. My breath quickened and my muscles tensed. “I don’t know anything about Erebus.” Tears leaked down my face as I pressed my eyes shut. “No, please, don’t.”

  Crack!

  The whip snapped over my head and lashed onto my back, cutting deep into my flesh. I tried not to scream.

  “Are ye human or Neviahan?” she asked.

  “I’m human!” I shrieked. The old woman had gone mad. “Look at me, I’m human!” I was about to say, “I’m human like you,” but I wasn’t anything like Hazella.

  “That’s what they all be sayin’.” The whip snaked through the air and sliced across my exposed skin.

  Nothing I said would stop Hazella from her erratic attack. I leaned my head against the stone, trying to relax my body and think of something else besides what was happening to me. Though pain seared me, I imagined a magical kingdom far away and lost myself in the glory of a perfect day. The sun peaked over the low rolling hills and showered golden strains of light through a valley of freedom.

  “Have the Immortals seen ye? Have ye been trained by them nasty Neviahan druids?”

  Her voice pulled me, like a hooked fish, out of the water of my hallucination, and I gasped for breath. I didn’t understand the witch’s riddles. My head spun, and I stammered, “I don’t know what—”

  “LIAR!”

  The strikes came faster now, as the whip seemed to take its own delight in my suffering. Warm blood trickled down my cold skin as the whip raked my delicate flesh. My fingernails dug into the wood mantel. I gasped for air between each strike, hopelessly searching for the strength to fight back, then silently begging for the escape that now eluded me. My legs gave out, and I dangled by my wrists. I held my breath and refused to moan or let her win.

  “What powers do ye have that Erebus craves?” Hazella shouted.

  I gasped for air to breathe. Even if I had been able to talk through the pain, I wouldn’t have revealed what I knew. I would never tell the witch about the fire that sprang from my body last winter.

  The whip hacked mercilessly at my body. My dress hung in shreds off my shoulders and hip, but Hazella kept ranting and swinging the whip.

  “I be havin’ my own ways of findin’ out. If yer Neviahan, ye will survive the night. If yer nothing but a human, then I will discard yer remains for the wolves.”

  I imagined wings like Cassi’s, sprouting out of my back where my skin ripped open. The pain didn’t seem so bad then. Blood fell like thick raindrops onto the dirt floor and splattered against the fireplace.

  My body pulsed with pain. I could still feel the whip carving my flesh from my bones, even after Hazella finished beating me.

  She took a long drink and dabbed the sweat from her forehead. She untied me from the peg, and my beaten body fell to the ground like a sack of butchered meat.

  I lay on my stomach, straining against the pain. Every breath I inhaled and exhaled hurt. The witch placed some cold vegetable soup on the floor beside me. “Now eat!”

  Eating was the last thing I could think of doing. My body felt disconnected and full of holes.

  Hazella moved away, pulled out her knife, and ran it meticulously across a smooth river stone.

  She’d said the only way I would last the night was if I were a Neviahan. What other tortures did she have planned?

  The light from the fire reflected on something in my soup, something blue. My eyes fluttered, trying to see more clearly. I tried to think of anything in the cottage edible and blue.

  Hazella turned her back, and I fished out the brilliant turquoise sleeping stone. I gripped it in my fist. This was it—the way I would escape. I choked down a few bites of soup and moaned, “I am so tired.” I pretended to yawn for effect.

  “I haven’t had my tea yet,” Hazella complained.

  I was in greater pain and was more delirious than when the wolf had attacked me and, yet, Hazella was ordering me to get her tea?

  “Hurry, I be havin’ important business tonight.” The witch’s voice sounded eager—too eager. Hazella continued to sharpen her murdering knife. The metal screeched as it slid against the rock.

  I pushed myself to my feet and stumbled against the wall toward the pot of water over th
e fireplace. Shaking, I tried to ignore the blood running down my arms and legs. Now I knew why I wouldn’t be Hazella’s “problem” anymore. She planned to murder me or turn me over to Erebus’s wolves.

 

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