Chapter 35
The days of travel blurred together. Nikator largely ignored her and while she had tried to converse with him from time to time, it usually ended in two ways: either he ignored her and didn’t say a word, or they argued about the same thing over and over.
Eventually, Biyu grew tired of trying to convince him that she loved him, that she was sorry, and that he should believe her, so she became quiet.
And thus, the past few days were spent with hardly a word between them.
They also remained in a rural part of the empire, it seemed, since they hadn’t passed by a village or city yet.
“There should be a village up ahead,” Nikator said quietly.
The sun began to crest on the horizon; they likely had another half hour before it set. Relief pooled in Biyu’s chest at the thought of a warm bed and a filling meal. She was bored of eating dried foods and meat stews.
Biyu sat stiff in the saddle, doing her best not to touch him too much. “Why is it taking so long to get back to the palace?”
He didn’t answer.
“Hm?”
Finally, he sighed. “What do you know about traveling? The only places you’ve traveled are between your room and the other rooms in the palace.”
“I also traveled to the gardens,” she said with an eye roll.
He was wholly unhelpful. The only reason she wanted to know was so she could plan her escape better.
If she knew they were, say, a few days from the palace, the urgency would be kicked up a few notches.
But as it was now, she hadn’t found a good opening to slip away from him.
It was like he slept with one eye open. Any time she would get up in the middle of the night, he would ask where she was going.
Half the time it was to relieve herself, but the other half had been to leave him.
“My apologies,” he said dryly. “How could I forget your weekly five-minute stroll down to the gardens.”
“Your attitude could use some improvements.”
“I don’t want to hear that from you.”
“My attitude has been nothing but polite,” she bit out. “You, on the other hand, have been ignoring me all day long and whenever you do speak, it’s to belittle me in some way.”
“I haven’t belittled you in any way,” he said with a scoff.
“The way you speak and your tone is belittling enough.”
“It’s not my fault you perceive my tone as belittling.”
The air between them turned bitter as they exchanged a few more biting remarks.
After a few minutes, a village came to view.
Biyu shifted in the saddle, her legs and lower back aching as usual.
Nikator tightened his hold on the reins, and his arms—which were braced on either side of her waist—held her in place.
Heat coiled in her lower belly; her body betrayed her.
“Something’s not right,” he said.
She nibbled on her lower lip and stared at the upcoming village; it was eerily quiet, but nothing struck her as strange. It could have been her lack of experience talking, though. “Why do you say that?”
“It’s too quiet,” he murmured, as if speaking loudly would wake something. “And there’s no smoke coming from any chimneys.”
“It’s still summer; people are likely too warm to start a fire.”
“Everyone still needs to cook dinner,” he said as if it was so obvious. “And there are no sounds either. No children, no carts being pulled, animals squawking—nothing.”
They stopped at the entrance of the village.
Like he had said, there was nobody around.
No animals, people, or anything. Wagons with wares were abandoned, some doors were left ajar, and streaks of blood painted the ground and the windows.
The smell of death and decay clung to the air and Biyu inhaled sharply as vultures flew above and picked at the chunks of questionable-looking meat on the road.
Nikator dismounted, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword as he scanned the streets. The horse exhaled forcefully from its nose, clearly nervous. Biyu held onto the reins with trembling hands and quickly looked around herself. The stillness was creepy. What had happened here?
“Something attacked this village.” Nikator pulled the horse forward slowly.
“We should turn away, then.” She hated the panic in her voice. She cast a furtive glance over her shoulder at the forested area they had entered from, and she wondered if something was hiding in the shadows, waiting for them to venture deeper so it could strike. “It still might be here.”
“If it’s still here, then it’s my duty to slay it.” He said it so simply that shame curdled in her belly at her own cowardice. Fighting back hadn’t even occurred to her—only running.
Biting down the fear and panic clawing up her throat, Biyu swung her legs over the side of the saddle and jumped off before she could think better. She stumbled forward, almost falling flat on her face, and steadied herself.
“What are you doing?” Nikator asked, grasping her elbow with his free hand.
“I can fight too. Plus, there might be survivors and I want to help.” She raised her chin.
Even though her words sounded uncertain and lacking in confidence, she was a princess of this empire and it was also her duty to protect it.
She had given him those burn scars, hadn’t she?
That meant her body knew how to fight reflexively.
Her magic—her violet flames—had helped her years ago.
She could channel that, even though it had been years since she had properly used it.
Nikator didn’t look convinced. “Stay close to me, then.”
She hung close to him as they walked slowly forward; she willed her magic to warm her hands, readying it in case she had to fire it at something.
The deeper into the village they went, the clearer it became that there were likely no survivors.
Torn clothes littered the streets and pulpy puddles of blood and gore were splattered everywhere.
They came across some corpses, but all of them were dry, as if the very essence of their being had been sucked from them, and some of them were shredded so badly that it was hard to see what they had looked like.
Tears burned her eyes and bile collected in the back of her throat as they came across another body. This one was missing its head and one of its legs was twisted unnaturally.
Nikator cursed loudly as he crouched to inspect the body. “I think this might be the work of a jiangshi.”
All the blood drained from Biyu’s face. A jiangshi was a blood-sucking undead creature that stole the life essence of the living and was malevolent in nature. The only way to slay the monster was by carving out its heart.
She quickly glanced up at the setting sun with a sinking heart. “They’re weak to sunlight.”
“It’ll attack soon, then.” He tightened his hold on his sword and scanned the streets. “It seems like it’s made this its feeding ground.”
“Have you ever faced one before?”
He cringed. “Once, when I was a child.”
“How did you kill it?”
“I didn’t.” The wind blew against them and they both stiffened, glancing around each other as if the creature would spring up at any moment.
Nikator’s sharp blue eyes flicked over to hers and held her gaze.
“Bohai cut its head off, but then the body kept moving and latched onto Minos. I tried hacking at its body, but it was too strong.”
“What happened then?”
The horse stamped its feet, nostrils flaring. Nikator placed a hand on its mane to calm it. “The sun came out, so it was weakened. Remus tore its heart out with his hand.”
Remus was the only Peccata member who wasn’t human—he was a demon.
She barely saw him around, but the idea of him ripping through the jiangshi’s stiff and dead body made her shiver in fear, because he was a demon, so of course he was capable of that.
But Biyu and Nikator were humans. How could they face it by themselves?
He seemed to read her mind, because he added, “Keep in mind we were children. Bohai was the only adult there, and even then, he was already injured so he wasn’t able to do much.”
“But still—” She swallowed. “It’s still a horrifying creature.”
“I’ll protect you.”
Why? She wanted to ask. What did it matter if she lived when he was planning on sending her to her death anyway?
A movement to her left made her turn sharply. It came from the alleyway between two homes, the shadows in the deepest end of it making it hard to make out what was there. She stared, straining to find a grotesque creature, but only a rat scurried out. A ragged breath released from her.
The sun crested along the horizon. They had minutes at most before night fell.
“Light a fire,” he said, stopping in the village square. He surveyed the area carefully, his attention flickering over the rooftops and the streets. “When it comes, stay far away and be careful not to get bitten. I’ll deal with it, but I need you to keep a fire going so I can see better.”
“What happens if we’re bitten?” Her hands grew clammy. “Will we turn into jiangshi?”
“No, that’s just a myth.” He stared at something in the distance, eyes narrowing. “You’ll just be in a hell of a lot of pain and its venom will put you through agony like you’ve never known. The chance of infection is also very high.”
She shuddered at the thought of its dead, necrotic mouth and broken teeth sinking into her flesh.
Nikator unsheathed one of the hidden blades strapped to his leg and handed it to her silently.
Her fingers wrapped around the leather hilt of the blade.
Dread settled over her and she inhaled, exhaled, and searched the streets as the sunlight disappeared.
An eerie silence fell over the still village.
Minutes ticked by and the darkness deepened.
The horse raced forward, startling Biyu as it ran down the street. Nikator let it run, not seeming to care as he continued to search the shadows. Biyu mimicked him.
Crack.
They whirled in the direction of the sound—a vacant street with a headless corpse strewn in the center of it.