20. Chapter 20
Chapter twenty
Black pustules burst and oozed, coating the doorstep in jasmine-scented drops. Lux stepped back, coming to the stunning realization she may have found something she despised more than blood.
The middle-aged woman adjusted her footing, propping the man up further.
Ned. The bizarre, laughing man. It would appear his mother had left behind her contagion in lieu of an inheritance. How unfortunate.
The thick fluid pooled and dripped onto the woman’s forearm. Even covered against the cold, Lux doubted it would be enough to stop the spread.
“I’ve the coin, if that is what’s preventing you from opening that door further.”
Lux peeled her eyes from the puddle forming at her feet to meet ones narrowed at her in frustration. She studied the deep lines at their corners. “Are you aware of how easily this disease spreads? I wouldn’t have touched him if I were you.”
Ned collapsed to the rain-soaked ground as hands pulled back from his mottled body.
The woman studied the black substance slipping along her fingers, her cheeks losing their reddened hue. “I’m going to be next?”
Lux stepped back further. “Probably.”
Shaking hands fumbled for a purse, dragging it from a pocket close to her body. “Revive me! When I die, find me. Swear it!”
Wild eyes clawed at Lux’s features. “What about him?” Lux nodded toward Ned’s array of awkward angles.
“Ned? He always was a selfish imbecile. In bed and outside it. Always running home to his wretched mother. I deserve this!”
Lux shook her head. “As unsatisfying as that must have been, I don’t do house calls. Please arrange for someone to bring you, should you die.”
“Who will risk touching me? You must!” The woman was growing louder, and Lux winced at the assault upon her ears.
“I’m sorry. I can’t.”
The woman sneered, stepping forward with a pointed finger. Her color having returned, her face darkened in anger. Anger and fear. “That is the most insincere apology I’ve ever heard, you little wench.” Her eyes spun, the white's blood-shot. “Do you enjoy it? All this death? Maybe you began it. Nasty, filthy murderer .”
Lux slammed her door, spinning to hold it in place even as the bolt slid home.
The woman flung her body against its length. Once, twice. Until silence hung, thick, in the air. Then a sing-song voice.
“ Murderer . Murderer. Murderer . We know what you are, Necromancer. You’re a little monster .” She cackled, and Lux clamped her hands over her ears, her eyes pressed closed.
She would ignore her. Shut it out.
The voice whispered like frost through the cracks. “ Murderer. ”
A sudden cry from the street caused Lux to jump. The presence disappeared from the wood at her back. Still, she wasn’t about to risk opening it. She darted down the steps and around the corner and yanking back the curtains, she peered through the window.
A man’s broad back blocked her view. A knife flashed in the light. It waved at the woman, and in response, she growled with a feral snarl, circling it, taunting him.
Finally, spitting onto the cobblestones, she straightened. With exaggerated strokes, she painted her face in jagged, black streaks. A mark of the contagion. The walking dead.
Her lips moved into a sweet smile. Lux couldn’t make out what she said. Leaving Ned behind to adorn her stoop, the woman swayed down the street, baring her teeth at any who glanced her way.
The man tucked the knife away.
A soft knock sounded against her door.
Lux reluctantly strode back up the steps, straightening shoulders that kept fighting to droop. “Who is it?”
“It’s Shaw. Let me in. Are you hurt?”
To her horror, tears pooled in her eyes. She swiped at them furiously, should they fall.
You don’t deserve to cry. “I’m fine.”
“Open the door.”
“I need to call for the death-carts.”
“You’ll still need to open the door to accomplish that.”
She scrunched her eyes closed, breathing deeply. The door creaked open, and Shaw immediately filled its frame. His cheekbones were pink against the cold, a cap low on his brow.
“Did she hurt you?” He scanned her body, and her muscles grew languid rather than stiffen. “Nothing on your skin?”
She shook her head. “No. Nothing on my skin.”
He nodded, satisfied. “If I send off a message for a reaper, will you let me back in when I return?”
It was a fair question. One that she contemplated for only a heartbeat. “Yes.”
She watched him until he disappeared from view. Then she stepped out to Ned’s side. No one else came near them, the scent of rotting flesh and the view of a disfigured body being enough to sate any gossiping appetite.
It wasn’t enough to sate her curiosity, however. She hadn’t seen a contaminated body this close, and she refused to pass up the opportunity to learn more of it. She even found herself wishing for Riselda, as she could discern more than Lux ever could. Unfortunately, Riselda wasn’t here, and she wasn’t about to let the body sit here in its filth until her return.
Holding a sleeve to her nose, she bent at his side. Most of the boils appeared intact but for the few oozing their contents from beneath his arms. Likely burst open from the pressure of being held against a well-meaning woman.
Lux surveyed the rest of him, but aside from a few splotches of red clusters on his limbs, she found nothing else that hinted as to how this disease came to be. And why it seemed to be focused on Ghadra’s poor.
“Why do you smell of jasmine of all things?”
“It’s strange, isn’t it?”
Lux tipped her head over her shoulder to find Shaw standing behind her. “That was fast.” She stood, brushing debris from her skirt.
“Reapers are everywhere these days. Did the three carts last night wake you?”
They might have, being as how she lived on the only street that led to the forest. Except she’d slept the night elsewhere.
“I wasn’t home. I visited my parents last night.” Before he could question her further, she turned and strode through the door. “Would you like some tea?”
It annoyed her that his tea had been better, but she wouldn’t admit it aloud. Instead, Lux stared at their feet, hers and Shaw’s side by side, in contemplation. Their eyes bore into the brown rug beneath them, toward what lay below even that.
“The tunnel connects this house and your parents’? What would be the purpose in that?” His confusion only mirrored her own.
“I’ve no idea. And I’ve even less of what may be at the end of the other.”
He lowered the cup from his lips, and she tracked its progress much too closely. “There’s another?”
She nodded, her gaze now unfocused upon the floor, recalling the cold air and darkness that wrapped around her. “I don’t feel good about it. And I can’t discuss it with Riselda; she’d skin me for disobeying.”
“I’ve wanted to talk with you about her. She visited the old woman who lives near me today. I believe the same one you spied on?” He quirked an eyebrow at her, and Lux glowered at him. “I left as she did, and she approached me.”
The warning Riselda offered now crashed to her mind’s forefront. “What did she say?”
“That she cares about few things in this world, and next to none of them are within Ghadra’s walls. Aside from you. I’ll admit I was taken aback she recognized me, what with the masquerade and all, but I wondered what she believes our relationship is? Have you told her anything?”
“I think she may have misunderstood our association following the party, but I assured her that wasn’t the case.” Though whether she believed her… “But about our theories involving the mayor and this disease? About the forest and the phantom? She’s ignorant.”
“Why?”
“Why what?” Lux finished her tea and entered the kitchen.
“Why have you kept it from her?” He followed, placing both his empty cup and hers in the basin, washing them clean.
She hung them to dry. “I tried to tell her once. But now, I suppose it’s her behavior. She’s rarely here, and when she is, I feel smothered and small. Her secrets outweigh ours, I’m certain, and there’s also the little problem of her relationship with the mayor. She didn’t return home until late morning. How can I trust her with our information when she may run to his bed with it?”
Shaw rested his hips against the counter, hands braced along its edge. He appeared relaxed. Much altered from their first encounters.
“Fair enough. Though after her veiled threat toward me today, I’m not sure you need to worry.”
Lux snorted, mimicking Shaw’s pose. “I’m sorry. Should I discuss our relationship with her again?”
Shaw’s eyes creased, attention on his boots. “Let her believe what she wants.”
The blush threatening her cheeks startled her, and she turned her face until it dissipated.
“Can I ask a personal question?”
She hesitated. “I may not answer it.”
“I figured you’d say something of the same.” He huffed a laugh before sobering, leaning toward her. “What made you decide to visit your old home?”
“Your kiss.”
He reeled back. “What? How?”
She only shook her head. The air grew heavy with what she refused to say, the sound of quiet breaths blanketing it further.
“Lux.” She looked up. His copper eyes delved into hers, but she shied away from it, glancing toward the workroom instead. “What that woman said… What she did to you…”
Her laugh was a sad thing, and he quieted. “I am a murderer, Shaw. She only spoke the truth.” Lux pushed from the countertop. “Now, I have a question for you.”
“I don’t like that look. What is it?”
She grinned. “Have you ever trapped a howler?”