13. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
Astrid
On my right is a clearing of tall grass reflecting the dying light of the sun. I was going to ignore it to continue my quest in the general direction Effie's trail was headed before I lost her tracks a few hours ago. Grass rustles from the other side of the trees as if something or someone was trying to sneak through it. I pause, turning my horse to investigate.
It’s quiet, unnervingly silent as I cautiously step into the small clearing. Urging my horse forward when he hesitates between each step. A twig cracks. My head snaps to the opposite side of the clearing. Is it Effie or a hunter who has decided to turn on me? My horse snorts his alarm, pawing at the ground. Something is out there, something that has my steed scared shitless. A howl goes up, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand as I remember the wolf that was hunted during my first festival. The thing was massive, standing taller than even an eighteen-hand horse. I pull my sword, waiting to see if whatever made the noise will show itself. I'm prepared to battle it or die trying. At least Embla has Papa, and I won't be leaving her alone if it is my time.
The world seems to pause, the silence stretches as I dismount, the grass coming up to my waist. Something flies up from beneath me, tackling me to the ground. I expect teeth and sharp claws. Instead, fists connect with my abdomen. Wait, fists? It has to be another hunter deciding to turn on me before I could best him. My mind reels and pain blinds me as I kick my legs, trying to get the upper hand. I've never been good at grappling, rolling around the floor isn’t for me. A flash of chestnut hair has me stopping my defense as hands close around my neck.
“I want to help,” I croak, the fingers tighten around my neck for a moment before they loosen, and I’m sucking down air.
“Astrid?” Everything stops as my gaze meets her stormy gray stare.
“Effie?” I whisper, relief washes through my chest as I wrap my arms around her, and her arms go around my waist as tears flow freely down both of our faces. I can't believe I found her first. “I thought you would be given a warning and tossed out of the city,” I whisper into her hair. I knew the Shadow Guard was horrific, but I never thought they would hunt a person. “How did this happen? Are you okay?” I pull away from my friend, taking in her leaf-strewn locs. I reach up and pluck a twig from where it lodged itself stem first in between the twists of her hair before tucking it behind her ear. I suck in a breath when I come face to face with her delicately pointed ears. She is fae. I thought somehow they got it wrong, but here is the proof right in front of my eyes.
“Astrid, wait before you say—”
“You’re actually fucking one of them? You're fae?” I fight to keep my voice down knowing we aren’t the only ones in the forest. I thought the guards were wrong, it was a stupid mistake, but her ears are actually pointed, and she is in fact fae. We need to get out of here before we are found by the other Demendians.
“Yes and no… It’s not that simple.” Effie paces further into the clearing, pulling me with her. “Fae are like a species. There are the Adoehte’—the high elves of the forest. The Ankareeda—the night elves of the obsidian mountains... Do we really have time for this?” Effie sneaks through the grass, her steps silent.
“I guess not, but I thought you were human.” I follow, trying to move as quickly and quietly as Effie, but every step I take sounds out of place. Like the forest knows I belong behind Demendia's walls.
“They took me from the black market and threw me into a cell.” Effie hesitates before shaking her head, like she’s holding something back. “Then they drugged me and shoved me in that cage, and you know the rest.” She waves her hand around her head at the trees surrounding us.
“I thought they would just ban you from the city.” I run a hand over my hair. “I’ve heard stories about fae and faeries. You cause disease, kidnap children, abuse magic… you kill…” I trail off and Effie shakes her head.
“Don't trust everything they taught you in Demendia, they want you to be scared of my kind. I'm no threat to you.” I study her face; I don't see anything to suggest she's lying. She seems like the same Effie I see every few weeks at the underground market. She's the girl who taught me how to track so I would teach her my signature takedown. She's still Effie.
“Are you scared of me?” Effie asks after the silence stretches.
“No,” and it's honest. I can't be scared of her; I've grown to care for her like I do Reyna or Em. When she says she's not a threat, I believe her. A genuine smile lights my friends face, “but we don’t have time to dwell, I’ve seen the maps. They count on the fae not knowing where to find safety. If you can make it out of Demendian territory, you’ll cross the road to freedom. Embla and I will meet you there in a couple of hours,” I say. Papa said the closest town with healers was Xiah, but an actual fae might know if there is anywhere else we can ask for assistance. The idea of going to a lawless city terrifies me. I take the bag strapped across my chest and offer it to Effie. It has most of my extra supplies I brought for the hunt, my spare tent, flint anything needed for a night in the forest.
“Thank you.” She slings the bag over her shoulder in a single movement. I can’t help the envy that floods my system at her grace and elegance.
“I can’t be long, there are supplies in that bag that should last you at least a day, maybe more if you use it sparingly.” I clasp Effie’s hand. “I’m sorry I don’t have more to bring you. I’ll see you later.” Effie pulls me into a hug, warmer than the air around us.
“I owe you my life.” She breathes into my neck before we let go of each other. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” Effie’s promise shines in her eyes before she disappears into the trees.
The crash of branches and stomping boots approach from behind. There’s no way whoever that is will be able to sneak up on Effie. They’re way too loud. Whoever is crashing through the underbrush behind me gets closer and I find myself accompanied by none other than Prince Roantoff himself. I don't know what I think of him yet, but Embla seems to like him.
“Any luck?” He steps up beside me, and his machete falls to his side.
“She must’ve gone a different way,” I lie through my teeth. He looks me up and down, sizing me up before turning to leave.
“There are other places you could live, you know. Places where people can be who and what they want, women can be warriors,” his voice barely above a whisper. I'll hopefully be leaving tonight.
“Trust me, I’m working on it,” I say, smiling politely, wishing he would drop it and just let me get back to my dangerous escape plan. I can’t ask him for help, that’ll just put his life at risk along with everyone else’s. Visitor or not. Royalty or not. Escaping this city isn’t taken lightly. He nods his head before turning and disappears into the fog.
I’ve been walking for about an hour, empty-handed, and the forest starts to look the same with each tree I pass. As I approach the domed wall, with a single arch open to the inside, I plaster a look full of disappointment onto my face, willing it to be real as I grow closer to the gate. That’s when I hear it. Screaming slices through the air from inside the city. I tap my heels against my horse's side urging him forward. Panic clutches at my chest making it hard to breathe as I barrel through the open gate. Bodies of men and women litter the ground. Women hold their men, some clutch children to their chest as they weep and scream. Someone from every district has fallen, and the student physicians weave in between them moving from person to person.
My eyes zero in on Embla, collapsed to her knees with Papa dragged halfway into her lap wailing along with the others. If it wasn’t for the unsteady halting rise and fall of Papa’s chest, I would think him dead. My eyes scan the crowd around me looking for Erik. I hope he's okay . The rest of the Lumins lie around us, their eyes closed. Family members stand in clusters holding each other just trying to keep out of the path of healers that rush around the square.
“Embla!” I shout as I dismount my horse and sprint to them. I drop to my knees not caring how bruised they will be tomorrow. “What happened?” My eyes scan Papa, looking for a way to help.
“I swear it was a swarm of wasps, but the Oracle convinced everyone else that it’s the plague. A bad omen sent by Malia,” Embla whispers, her voice nasally with congestion. Embla moves her head closer to mine, and her voice lowers. “The physicians are calling it a new strain, but no one else will admit to seeing the wasps. I promise they were there,” Embla’s voice raises, panic entering her tone.
“A—Ash,” I hear, snapping my attention toward Papa, his voice is weak as he coughs my name. His eyes flutter a few times before they open.
“Shh, Papa. Rest. The physicians are coming.” I pat his shoulder trying to do something to comfort him along with myself. Everything will be fine; Papa is always ready for anything.
“No, no time. You have to—” Papa coughs, blood stains his lips, and he takes a rattling breath. “Find your mother,” he says weakly, his hand falling to the floor like his energy is failing.
“Mama is buried in the family plot behind the house,” I remind him, stroking his hair.
“She wasn’t your mother, your mother she—she...” His voice trails off and his eyes close as his body goes limp.
She wasn't your mother rings through my head. If she wasn't my mother then who was? If I'm not the daughter of Leif and Marianna, then who am I? Who was I supposed to be? “Astrid, what does he mean, she wasn’t your mother?” Embla’s voice is high pitched as she starts to teeter on the edge of panic. Who my mother is doesn’t matter right now. None of it is going to matter if we can’t get out of this city and find a cure. If this truly is a new strain of the illness we need a way to treat it now more than ever.
“We have to leave Em; it's what Papa would want.” My face goes cold as I pull all emotion from my expression and step away. I didn’t think I would be thrust into this position. I didn’t think I would have to lead, even if it's just my sister. But Papa wouldn’t want us to stay here, he would want us to follow through with the plan. We have to go.
“Ash. What did he mean?” Embla shrieks as she stands whirling to confront me.
“I don’t know, Em!” I shout back, grabbing her upper arm and pulling her close. “I don’t know, okay? He’s hurt, confused, and dying. We are the only ones who can go find a cure. The physicians will do their best, but right now we are wasting time.”
“Do we have to leave Papa here? We’re already leaving Mama,” my sister’s voice wavers, and as much as I want to tell her to go home to the manor, I can’t. Leaving Embla here alone would be a death sentence. Demendia will never be safe, not for Em. Not for me. Not while the tithe goes unpaid and King Daemon refuses to help.
“We have to. We’ll come back with the cure and save the day. We’ll be heroes like in the books you read. But we can’t do anything to help if we stay here.” I eye the edges of the square where the Shadow Guards have gathered surrounding the festival. “They know we can’t pay the tithe, and they’re going to come for you. I won’t be able to stop them.” I signal a physician who rushes to Papa’s side, and I guide Embla away so he can work. She runs back to Papa, reaching into his pocket to remove the locker key, and together we rush to retrieve our bags.
“Astrid, Embla,” Erik whispers, our names coming out as one word as he pushes aside the tent flap. “The Shadow Guard, I overheard some of them talking... they’re coming for you. They know you’re going to try to escape, and they’re coming.” I recognize the controlled panic in his voice as his eyes meet mine then Embla’s. “They’re coming to ensure their sacrifice doesn’t get away.”
“We can’t wait any longer. Papa wanted you to be safe, we have to leave now.” I pull Embla toward the gate, Erik following closely behind. He draws his sword to watch our backs. Motion in my right peripherals grab my attention. I turn in time to watch the Shadow Guard fill the square, running toward us. The District has more time to pay the tithe, it's not late yet. We should have more time; I don't understand why they would come for Embla now. I unsheathe my sword with just enough time to block the first attack. I push Embla behind me and pull the dagger from my boot.
“Here, use this.” I block another strike. The dagger lands on the ground at Embla’s feet with a dull thump. To give her a way to protect herself just in case.
“It’s not ladylike. I don’t know how,” Embla says, taking a step back from the small weapon.
“You stick the pointy end into the person you want to hurt,” I call over my shoulder as I lift my blade and bring it down on my opponent. Blood splatters as I make quick work of the guard before three more are on me.
Metal clashes around me, Erik fights by my side, staying close as we move through the square. Guards trample through what remains of the festival, shouting battle cries that ring through the dome. Each guard I encounter forces me further away from my sister. I block a blow that was aimed at my head, and the jolt of it rocks through my body. Erik stands defiantly in front of Embla fighting each guard without hesitation. Fighting to keep one of the few people I love safe. I fight to push my opponent off as more and more guards come for Erik. He crosses swords with another but a second launches a dagger in my sister’s direction.
I try to disengage the guard I’m fighting, but I’ve drifted too far from them. They might as well be on the other side of the district. Everything slows down, and then speeds up as the blade hurdles through the air towards my sister’s heart. A scream rips through me. I can’t watch my sister die. I can’t lose her. Why is she just standing there? My heart stops as Erik flings himself to the side and the weapon embeds itself hilt deep into his chest. A second sword bursts through his center and a scream of pure desperation is wrenched from my throat as I push to get to him. My eyes widen as primal rage rips from my throat and the guard pushes his body off the sword with his foot, forcing Erik face-first into the tiled ground. There was still so much I needed to tell him; we should've had more time. His blood seeps over the gold and red mosaic. I throw myself over his body, trying to staunch the bleeding as I sob. Something primal in my anger takes over. The guard’s helmet obscures his face, but I can feel the glee radiating off him. My eyes stare at his body as I try to convince myself this is real. Nothing remains of the man I admired, respected, and loved.
The moon shifts to peek through the dome, witnessing the events unfolding. As the moonlight hits me, my rage boils deep in my stomach, rising to my chest. I look down at my shaking hands now covered in blood, but the skin beneath is almost glowing. In less than a second, I have Erik’s blade in one hand and mine in the other as I run through every attack he has ever taught me with a speed I didn’t think was possible. Each movement comes easily, my mind going blank while my vision is tinged red. With the swipe of my blade, the head of the guard closest to me rolls from his body, and it too falls to his knees before toppling. I take on the next, stabbing through his chest before I twist the blade and kick him off. With a flick of my wrist, I have the last guard disarmed. With my blade at his throat, I force him to his knees.
“Please, mercy, please,” he blubbers, and I grimace as disgust replaces my anger. He has the nerve to ask me for mercy, what a coward.
“Why should I—”
“Astrid!” Embla calls but not in time as something hard connects with the back of my skull, making the ground pitch toward me.