Chapter 25 #2
Her hair is bone-white and clinging to her face.
She wears a thin white robe over an elegant dress, with a hood and a long train.
It drags behind her, whispering over rocks and twigs and fallen branches.
There are just sockets where her eyes should be, with long scratch marks around the holes, as if she clawed them out herself.
In her hand, she carries a velvet pouch. It’s drooping with weight. It’s embroidered with glimmering gold.
I swallow. The lightning disappears, and the woman with it. Thunder roars.
I don’t dare breathe. I can’t see her anymore … but the forest is still far too quiet. The metallic smell is everywhere. My eyes search the woods wildly for any trace of her. Nothing. She’s gone.
I lean against the trunk behind me, finally taking a breath. I can feel my pulse beating against its remaining bark.
Another flash of lightning brightens the forest.
And she’s right in front of me.
I gasp. Her lovely mouth parts—
And a scream splits my mind in half, like the lightning has pierced right through my skull. My teeth clench painfully. My hand reaches toward my sword. Somehow, I know this metal would go right through her. Especially when the light disappears and she’s gone. So is the scream.
No … not gone. Just not corporeal. I can feel the chill of her breath on my cheek. I can feel her searching … smelling … for something.
I remember what Raker said about that puddle in the mists. How it gained strength from my attention. From my fear.
I will not feed it. I will not be afraid.
I close my eyes tightly, and I don’t think about the creature in front of me. I don’t think of the storm.
I think about one of those nine remaining memories.
The day the tree in our lawn—the one my mother had nursed and cared for over several years, the one that many generations had given up on, but my mother never did—bore fruit for the first time.
Our neighbors came to celebrate. Wearing my longest dress, and fabrics that covered my throat, I joined them.
No one had much, but everyone brought something. Jam. A loaf of bread. A rare pheasant, caught by the local huntsman.
My mother carefully cut each fruit, and everyone got a piece. Its skin was deep violet. It was swollen with juice. I remember biting into it and feeling pure and utter joy. Especially when I opened my eyes and saw everyone else smiling.
There was so little to smile about on Stormside. So little to covet. But that one moment … it felt like a rope, tying us together.
That night, I asked my mother why we would share the fruit from the tree. Why we always shared everything we had. It was ours.
“Because what’s the point in having anything if you don’t share it?” she said.
I didn’t really know what she meant. All I knew was that it had felt good to see my neighbors happy. It had felt good to share, even though I only got a small piece of the fruit for myself.
As the years passed, I understood more.
I understand now.
I can feel the moment the screaming woman releases her hold on me, as if I have lost her interest. As if, unlike the creature from the mists, she does not relish happiness.
The creature passes on. I feel the brush of the end of her robe, hear it murmur against the dirt and grass at my feet, until it vanishes completely.
The sound of the storm and woods rushes in again, and I fold over, fighting for air. For some reason, I’m sweating, as if what just happened took great energy.
Rain slips down my body. I lean back against the tree, trying to catch my breath. Wondering what the hell that being was.
Then I hear it. The snapping of a twig. I move in a flash—
And an arrow pierces the tree I was just leaning against. Cadoc.
No. I recognize this arrow. When I look up and squint through the rain, I see her in a tree.
Valen.
Her bow is already set again. There’s the twang of the string releasing.
I lunge out of the way as another arrow slams into the place I just occupied.
“What the fuck?” I scream through the storm. As if I haven’t faced enough. As if this tempest isn’t enough of a danger.
I haven’t seen another competitor since Raker and I started working together. I can’t help but feel like Valen’s appearance is this world telling me that I should have stayed with him. Or maybe that I should have listened to him and gone home.
Was she tracking us, to get my sword? Or did she just get lucky and run into me?
A tree in the distance shakes as she leaps into it. I don’t even hear the snap of the bow this time.
Pain sears through the skin just below my ear. An arrow buries into the tree just behind me.
I reach up and—blood. That’s blood. A small adjustment, and it would have gone through my throat. She’s making killing shots.
Why? Is it truly for my sword?
There’s a wider tree just a few feet in front of me. I throw myself behind it, using it for cover. I pant, frost coating the inside of my lungs, burning through my chest.
I feel a thud in my spine as one of her arrows burrows in the bark behind me. It traveled far through the wood. But not all the way. Not enough to pierce me.
Another tree shakes as she moves closer.
I’m a sitting duck here. But if I move away from this protection, I’ll be wide open. The next tree is several yards up, and it’s thin. I won’t make it.
“Why?” I yell through the downpour. “I’m not your enemy.”
She’s a skilled archer. My sword would only weigh her down. Besides, she has her own blade. An elegant, small one, decidedly easier to carry. I saw her claim it during the Culling.
I’m surprised to hear her voice. It’s deep and smooth.
Straight to the point. “It’s nothing personal,” she says.
Another arrow strikes the bark. This one with more force.
I can feel it almost reach my spine. Leaves tremble as she jumps into another tree.
Closer. “Cadoc and his group caught up to me a while back. They managed to stab me before I got away. It’s infected now. ”
What does that have to do with me? I want to scream.
Another arrow. This one has enough force to go right through the tree, and I lurch forward, out of the way of its point.
Another jump. “I won’t make it to the end like this. I was offered another chance. A goblet of magic without making the journey. You see … there’s a bounty on your head.”
I frown. A bounty?
I startle as another arrow pierces the tree, going all the way through and then some, its point sticking out right above my skull. If I was a little taller, it would be the end of me. She’s so close. She won’t make another mistake.
Maybe if I keep her talking … maybe if I convince her—
“I—”
She’s done speaking. There’s the rush of air as she jumps. I brace myself for an arrow through my head.
A snap sounds. Followed by a blood-curdling scream.
Hands trembling, I grip the bark and peer around it, just enough to see a body sprawled on the ground. Valen. Her bow is on the forest floor, just a few feet away—
From her arm that has been crushed by a branch so thick it might as well be a trunk. Other branches lay splintered around her.
Her limb is twisted at a gruesome angle. It’s ruined.
She keeps screaming. “No. No.” Her entire body is trembling. I take a step closer. Another, until I see her face is flushed with fever. There’s a bandage wrapped around her middle, where she must have been stabbed.
“Just kill me already,” she snarls. Her face is contorted in pain. I’m not sure why she’s on the quest. I’m not sure why she needs that cup of magic. It doesn’t matter, I suppose. We all have our reasons.
When I don’t move an inch, she thrashes like a beast. “Kill me. I’d rather a blade across my throat than to be picked apart by whatever lurks in these woods.”
I wonder if she saw the woman. I can almost hear the whisper of that long white cape, as if she has turned back around, having sensed suffering.
Valen must hear it too, because she lets out a whimper.
And I am so very, very foolish. I can almost hear Raker’s voice in my head telling me so. Because I walk over to her side, then squat. Grip the end of that massive branch crushing her arm, pinning her to the forest floor. Then, with a groan, I begin to lift.
“What are you doing?” Valen demands.
“Just roll out of it,” I manage to get out, my voice tight with strain. I lift another inch.
With a bellow of agony, she rolls herself from underneath it, and I drop the branch, heaving.
Her bone is shattered. It’s sticking out of her ripped, bloody skin. Her muscle is flattened.
“It’s no use,” she scrapes out. Her face has gone pale. “I’m dead.”
She’s right. I can feel that spectral woman getting closer, her hunger an endless well that can never be filled, her misery bleeding through this forest. And she’s not the only starved creature in these woods.
“Who is after me?” I say.
Valen gives me a scathing look, as if I am a villain for not letting her die in peace. She’s clutching her arm, as if it would do any good. Finally, she says, “I don’t know. Some immortal told me about the bounty. I was told to bring you to a cavalry, if I caught you.”
My heart stills, remembering the hoof marks on the road. “Cavalry?”
She nods. She gasps with pain as that bone sticking out of her arm moves. “I followed them here. They seemed to know you were in the area. They—they’re not only after you. They’re after … after him. The head of the king’s guard.”
Raker.
My throat feels tight. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” she growls. She grits her teeth. I can imagine that right now death would be a mercy.
Those hoof prints were headed directly for that black lake. Could they really know he’s there?
I remember the curl of smoke from the hearth. The one I didn’t put out before I left. The one Raker set for my benefit, given that he stayed in another room entirely.
A rush of guilt seeps through my chest.
I try to ignore it.