14. The Maiden
The Maiden
Prism Malefic
Air was knocked out of my lungs as I was placed on stone.
My palms and feet fought to push me backward, anything to flee the horrific creature in front of me.
His malice hung around him, flowing from the bones on the outside of his body, with inky muscle underneath, and eyes glowing a frightening bluish white.
He reached above my head and a scream croaked from my hoarse throat.
My screams were useless, wasted energy. My tears emptied and long cried out on the trek to…
wherever this was. The worst pain of all?
My naive, broken heart. The betrayal I felt that Birch hadn’t come to marry me.
Would he search for me now, if only out of guilt?
Would Rumor find my bones after the wither picked me clean?
The massive hand that reached above me spanned my entire torso. This wither was so enormous he had to duck not to hit his head on the cave ceiling.
I should have been in a bed with my new husband just then.
Instead, I was in a cave. I was in a cave with a wither.
The deadliest and fiercest creature in the realm.
The creature whose kind plagued our woods and descended upon Willowspire whenever they desired.
Snatching women at their wedding rites, surrounding us during the rapture, and aiding Asunder with their strength and gruesome affinity for killing.
My body tensed, expecting to be grabbed by those big hands and claws.
I feared its teeth would shred me in agonizing, painful violence.
Though somehow, neither monstrous weapon met me.
The creature dropped a large animal hide onto my lap and backed away, still staring as his heavy breaths moved his shoulders up and down.
My shaking palms brushed over the bear pelt as a frigid chill brushed against my bare shoulders.
Why was the wither handing me a blanket?
Maybe my meat was more valuable warm and not frozen.
As much as I wanted to throw the animal hide back in its terrifying face, I was very cold, and exhausted.
Every glimpse of my dirtied wedding dress was a stab in my gut.
How did this happen? Why did this happen to me of all people?
Rumor would have survived this, though of course I didn’t wish it upon her; if anything, I was glad it was me who was taken and not her.
However, my sister was much more capable than I was, especially with the rougher stuff.
I couldn’t even hook and hang up meat for smoking.
I couldn’t bear seeing it or touching it, even if I had to eat its sustenance to survive.
The act of hunting seemed so cruel. Survival in general was such a harsh thing.
Harshness formed my sister into something hard and fierce.
Meanwhile, I’d been beaten into something timid and genteel.
Matri teased once that I’d starve before spearing a rabbit. She was right.
Mother countered that I’d sooner grow my own food and be happy with only squash than harm any living thing. She was right, too.
My shoulders jerked in startled surprise as the wither grunted, motioning to the pelt.
At first, I didn’t understand, but then I slowly unfolded it, and spread it over my trembling body.
It grunted again, seemingly pleased, and stood, ducking beneath the cave ceiling.
He moved to the center of the rocky enclosure and peered outside a moment before stacking wood.
Rubbing two rocks together, the wither sparked a fire, leaning in to blow on it until it was a small, crackling blaze.
I didn’t know they could do that. His body was shaped like a man, only giant, though his face was death incarnate.
He glanced at me as I scooted further against the rock behind me, as if somehow I could melt into the stone and disappear.
The dark forest beyond was just visible on the other side of my captor. If it went to sleep, it was possible I could sneak around him and escape. I didn’t know which way to run, and had no idea where I was, but at least I’d have a small chance of getting home if I managed to get away.
Fatigue pulled at my eyelids, and the warmth from the fire and the thick fur blanket fought against my unease at closing my eyes in the wither’s presence. As my eyes involuntarily drifted closed, his face turned toward me and watched.
Fear gripped my throat and yanked me under and away from my waking nightmare.
I hoped I wouldn’t wake up.
My nightmare’s gruesome face was the last thing I remembered before sinking into sleep.
Something wiggled my foot. Consciousness lit behind my eyelids, but I squinted them closed, knowing it was morning. Hard, damp stone pressed beneath me, aching my lower back, as the blanket on top of me felt too heavy and thick.
It was morning.
It was the morning after my wedding, and I wasn’t married.
However, I also wasn’t dead. Not yet, at least. Slowly, I opened one eye, seeing the massive outline of my captor blocking out the sun as it attempted to fill the cave. He thumped something against my foot again. Sitting up on my aching bones, I rubbed my eyes.
Another thump against my foot.
A trail of blood.
The wither whacked my foot with the dead hare again.
I shrieked and pulled the blanket over my head.
The wither pulled it down, and I froze as he hovered over me, making me feel as small and insignificant as the forgone bunny.
Only I was also a rabbit in this scenario.
The wither held up the hare and motioned to the fire and then to his mouth. He repeated the motion.
Was he trying to… communicate with me?
Wait, was he trying to feed me?
“No!” I croaked. “I don’t want your food. I want to go home.”
The wither furrowed its stare and shoved the offering at me again.
“No.” I shook my head and crossed my arms. “That poor animal did nothing to you, but you killed it anyway. Just like me, I did nothing and you—you—” Tears welled in my vision, and I tilted my chin up, hoping to force them back into my eyes.
“You just took me, and I don’t want to be here.
You—you took me away from my home, and my sister probably thinks I’m dead. As dead as that poor little bunny.”
The wither rubbed the back of his neck. My gaze lifted from the offering to the wither’s biceps, which had to be as thick as a tree trunk.
He was built for killing, everything about him fearsome and crafted for bloodshed.
Though the gesture of rubbing the back of his neck, almost in embarrassment, seemed startlingly human.
And the twist I felt as I noticed his shoulders and arms… no, I was delirious, that was all.
The wither lifted the rabbit and looked to the fire, then back at me, then to the rabbit, as if deciding what to do.
Obviously, he wanted to cook it for me. Which was bizarre enough without his very human-like gestures.
I’d guessed they’d killed and tortured enough maidens at this point to know the baseline of what we consume and our behaviors.
Surely, this was part of their predatory process.
Perhaps to earn my trust, to keep me from running or screaming, or simply to fatten me up for slaughter.
My gut twisted at the imminent possibility of the latter.
My breath caught in my chest as the wither stood, stooping under the high stone ceiling, and walked out of the cave, my discarded breakfast in tow.
Something loud cracked and rocks tumbled outside.
I hugged my knees, feeling helpless as my stomach growled in hunger.
Rumor would have accepted the rabbit and used its bones to slay the wither.
Yet here I was, trembling, weak, and turning down food that would give me the strength I needed to escape.
All on principle. What were principles when I was trapped in a wolf’s maw?
After a moment, the monster thumped back in, dragging something behind him.
Burying my face in my knees, dirt rained upon me as something dropped at my feet.
Coughing, I looked up to see a bush torn from the ground, roots and all, spread before me.
Reaching forward, I inspected the leaves and fruit.
“Strawberries?” I asked the wither as if he’d respond, as if he even understood me—truly, I was losing my grip on reality and was insane with heartbreak and defeat.
The wither watched me intently, crouching a few feet from me, as if I were a caged and rabid fallope he didn’t want to frighten. He tilted his chin toward the berries and looked on with anticipation.
He wouldn’t be leaving me alone until I ate.
Plucking a round, ripe berry from its branch, I took a bite. The sweet strawberry juice coated my tongue, and I was silently thankful to have the whole bush to myself. As odd as it was that he tore it from the ground, roots and all, it was efficient, I’d give him that.
Finishing one, I plucked several and ate.
The wither watched until finally giving a short nod of satisfaction before moving to the entrance of the cave and turning his back to me, looking out into the forest.
Was Birch out there right now, searching for me?
What reckless thing was my sister doing to find me?
Knowing her, it was something unfathomable.
I smiled to myself as I imagined the wither’s surprise when Rumor rode in, the Viper brothers in tow, ready to destroy him for taking me.
If anyone could take down a wither, I’d bet the Viper brothers could.
They’d taken down boars and stags and even once a meldrodden.
The faces of everyone in Willowspire when Adder and his brothers hauled in the meldrodden, bloodied, its mane matted, and its wings torn…
As deadly and rare as the creatures were, I hated to see it slain.
Though it did feed the town for weeks, and Rumor and her coven distributed the feathers and scales for magical purposes.
Would the coven aid in my rescue as well?
Would Rumor come into her calling in time to pry me from the monster’s claws?
These questions haunted me and stuck between my teeth with the strawberry seeds.
With nothing else to do but stare at the back of my terrible captor, I rolled over and pulled the pelt over my head again, wishing to sink into the stones and disappear.
Rumor, where are you?