Chapter Twenty-Two #2
It wasn’t until he stood behind one of the flimsy, wooden cabins of the village, that he recognized what was cooking. The meat wasn’t pig or cow or anything he would consider eating. Instead, it was people. Piles of people. All tied up to a giant stake at the center and burned.
Austin froze, staring at the horrified skulls of at least 30 people all cooked down to the last inch of their fat.
He scanned around the village for any others, but it was abandoned.
Quiet except for the crackle of fire devouring wood.
With every few moments, something would snap and a piece of one of the victims fell away.
His heart lurched as he glanced back at all their screaming mouths.
I didn’t hear you at all. How? Who did this! ?
Stepping out around the cabin, he tip-toed closer, sure that the culprit for the heinous deaths would spring out any moment.
Only, they didn’t. He got all the way to the roaring flames; felt it brush hot air against his cheeks.
Austin stared up at the residents of that village and found the symbol he was searching for—Sonmyr.
God of the sun. Vengeful. Prideful. No hesitation.
His zealots burned heretics. Austin would know that glimmering sun icon anywhere.
“That’s where you came from,” Austin whispered as he turned from the pyre.
Even with one arm, he dropped a bucket into the well.
Wrapping the rope around his fist a few times, he pulled.
And pulled. And pulled till it was full and he could dump it on the fire.
While the whole thing didn’t go out in one bucket, a handful of victims were released from the sun god’s judgement.
Then he returned to the well. Over and over, he repeated the task.
The sun climbed higher, but he went about dousing them until the fire’s last victim went out with a hiss.
The entire time he kept thinking, that’s how we ran into that cleric. The one who killed Octavio and severely wounded Sebastian. Austin only managed to overpower them after they nearly died trying to crack Sebastian’s soulstone.
In the last few years, they’d not run into anyone like that.
Most people ignored them or made it clear they wanted nothing to do with a traveling lich and his creations.
Sebastian was looking for a home. He wasn’t looking to destroy villages.
He wasn’t trying to raze kingdoms to the ground. He just wanted a new home.
“Thank you…”
The tiny, scratchy voice brought Austin out of his thoughts. He turned around to a woman covered in soot. Her hair was shaved off her head, a giant mark burned into her scalp. The same sun emblem—likely the metal decoration left at the top of the pyre was used to brand her.
Austin glanced at the steaming pile of victims, then back at the last survivor of the village. “What happened?”
She choked on tears that welled in her eyes.
“Their order was roaming the countryside. They threw their divine gold about and paid everyone heavily to look the other way while they drank all our wine and ate all our food for the winter. Until they started getting too rowdy. They hurt one of the elders of our village.”
“And they burned the town for that?” Austin murmured. They started it! Austin couldn’t help the lick of fury that rushed up his spine.
“No, they burned this town because of who we are…we were protected by a tiny forest god. An Old Fae who lived here along the coast; he was a sweet old man. He liked to sit on the cliffs and whistle to the sea. He kept the crops bountiful in the summer and helped keep our rations in the winter in exchange for little trinkets. He loved buttons. Collected chickens to keep in his yard and sat by the elders’ side as they passed on, eating their pain and last few dreams. Old man Bruada was a grandfather figure to us…
then he came to help the elder who was hurt, and the clerics grew enraged.
” The branded woman raised a singular finger to the middle of the pyre.
The stake cracked and turned to ash, showing an anguished face at its core.
The man was clearly bound in silver chains that were now melted to his very bones.
They crumpled as an evening sea breeze trickled through the town.
“They built the pyre around him and poured alcohol over him to make sure he burned.”
The branded woman hiccupped as she cried hard.
Austin turned back to her, kneeling down in front of her.
Her shaking hands cupped her face. He didn’t want to upset her more by offering her a hug.
But he couldn’t imagine how to comfort her.
Austin didn’t know what to do for her…except give her closure.
There was no way to bring her village back.
No mercy in making things from their burnt bones. No, he couldn’t help her there.
But Austin still had one strong arm and a lich’s soulstone in his pocket.
“My maker needs bodies to restore his own. Where did the cleric’s go?” Austin asked.
The woman’s eyes widened. Big brown saucers that studied him for a long moment, then she dropped her hands to her sides. “I can show you.”
“It won’t be pretty. This will not be soothing,” he added as he climbed to his feet.
“I do not need to be soothed,” she snarled between busted lips and a set of chipped teeth. “I want to watch them burn…in all the ways you and your maker can offer.”
“Then lead the way.”
Bang! Bang! Bang! Austin awoke to something biting his forearm. He yelped, “OW!”
Flinging Snuffles across the bed, he nursed the spot the bunny tried to rip off him with a scowl. “Not nice, Snuffles. If you were hungry, you could have just asked!”
Austin harumphed, swinging his legs out of the bed.
I haven’t thought about that woman? About that village?
About those clerics in a long time. But, then again, it’d been a long time since anything reminded him of them.
He rubbed his face with the palm of his hand.
Rising to his feet, he moved like he would in his room.
But he wasn’t in his room. He was in Hyacinth’s.
And when he turned to the bed sharply, panic coursing through his veins again, he found the bed empty, save for one bunny thumping his back legs angrily.
That’s when Lord Aravis Blightwood started shouting from downstairs.