34. Kiera
Chapter 34
Kiera
M idmorning quickly morphs into afternoon and despite the recent chill of winter lingering in the air, sweat coats the back of my neck and slides into the collar of my tunic. Kalix, Ruen, and I leave the slain Mortal God to be buried by Theos. Whatever spell I’d managed to create to unravel the one that hid her true form obviously hasn’t worked on all of the other students the Gods have changed for this Hunt of theirs. Otherwise, we would hear cries of disbelief and screams of horror through the woods.
Instead, all I hear is the silence of the wind and the rustle of leaves at the tops of the trees. A pity—a large part of me wants to reveal to everyone that the ‘animals’ they’ve been killing are their classmates, their friends. Another part of me, the kinder piece of my soul I thought had died long ago, reminds me that revealing it in too shocking a manner as I had for the Darkhavens might cause great chaos. After all, who could live with the fact that they didn’t just kill their friends, but relished in hunting them through the Hinterlands and torturing them until their slaughter?
My footsteps slow to a halt as I emerge into a separation of trees where a creek bed slips through rocky crevices to form a shallow pool. Ruen and Kalix remain standing as I take the canteen that Ruen stole earlier and refill it. One good thing about being a Mortal God is access to better materials and this canteen is a product of the Lautus, the God of cleanliness. It’ll purify any debris in the water due to his spell.
“We should be closer to where we started now,” Ruen murmurs thoughtfully.
“We still haven’t found her, though,” I reply as I recap the canteen and tuck it into my waistband.
“Do you even know if she’s still alive?” Kalix slides a look my way and I grit my teeth at the thought of Maeryn dying out here.
“She’s still alive,” I snap. “You know it as well as I do.”
Kalix relaxes back against a large oak, crossing his arms over his wide chest. “Yes, I suppose I do,” he agrees. “Which brings me to what you did before. How did you share your thoughts with me?”
Raking my teeth along my lower lip, I straighten back to my feet and turn fully to face the two of them. Ruen’s curious gaze lingers on me as well, no doubt wanting the same answers that Kalix is demanding.
“I don’t know,” I admit, letting my gaze move to the flowing creek water.
“Bullshit.”
I whip my head back and scowl at Kalix. “I don’t,” I insist. “Makeda said that I?—”
“Makeda?” Ruen stops me. “Is that who you were with this morning? Is that who told you about…” His words trail off, but I don’t have to ask what he meant. He wants to know if the Goddess of Knowledge was who told me about the truth behind this malevolent Hunt.
With a sigh, I twist my head to the side, scanning the grounds nearby as I respond. “Yes,” I answer. “I went out last night and ran into Zalika and Nubo. I think I know now who is helping Carcel on the mainland.”
“Nubo?” Kalix guesses.
Turning back to him, my brows arch up. “Yes,” I say. “How’d you know?”
Kalix shrugs. “He smells like death.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Ruen demands, turning on the other man.
Kalix casts his brother a narrow-eyed look and speaks in a clipped tone. “Because,” he replies, “all of Ortus smells of death. It’s hard to discern the differences when everything reeks of decay and rot.”
Ruen steps forward, his hands clenching at his sides and I step between them, holding my hands out. Despite the fact that Kalix hasn’t moved a single inch, I know he’s just as ready for a fight as Ruen. “The focus right now needs to be on Maeryn,” I say. “We need to find her and meet up with Theos. We’ll send Regis the information about Nubo when we return to Ortus.”
Rich bruise-colored eyes meet mine. “How do you plan to find her?” he asks, gesturing to the vastness of the woods that surround us. “The Hinterlands is an unmapped terrain. She could be miles away at this point—I hope she is, in fact, because if she stayed, then she could be dead.”
“She’s not dead,” Kalix says before I can.
“Her thread is still there,” I agree with a nod.
Ruen’s face scrunches in confusion, his brows lowering over his eyes. “Her thread?”
“It’s…” I shake my head. “It’s complicated to explain, but Makeda gave me an idea of how to use my senses in this Hunt and this land—the Hinterlands—I know it. I was raised here. It might look like the Hinterlands, but it’s just a replica.”
“A replica?” That has Kalix straightening away from the oak tree and frowning at me as he drops his hands to his sides.
I nod. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we keep running into the same places. The ravines. The tree markings. The clearings. Even this creek bed.” I gesture down to my side. “Yes, these things are from the Hinterlands, but not down to the distinct details.” I point to the oak behind Kalix. “There are three scratches to the upper corner of the lowest branch,” I tell him. “Right where the branch meets the trunk. Check it.”
Without hesitation, Kalix turns and glances up, confirming my knowledge with a nod. “She’s right.”
“So, we’ve been here before,” Ruen states, though his tone is vague and his words slow as if he’s not exactly sure how that proves my suspicions.
I sigh and plant my hands on my hips. “The Hinterlands is too vast to repeat small details like that,” I tell them as Kalix twists to face me once more. “This isn’t really the Hinterlands, but I suspect a fake labyrinth meant to appear like it.”
Ruen’s face remains scrunched as he peers between me and Kalix before finally settling firmly on me. “Why would they do that?”
“Tryphone,” I say. “Tryphone did it.”
His brows ease up. “Because he knows who you are,” he guesses.
“I suspect he does,” I reply. “Makeda is the Goddess of Knowledge, her powers earned her the place she has on the Council, but also by Tryphone’s side. If she were to fight against him and refuse him certain answers to his questions, then she’d be in much the same position as Caedmon.”
Ruen opens his mouth and though I know he has plenty more questions, likely questions for which I have no answers, whatever his next words are remain lost as a scream echoes through my head and into Kalix’s via the pathway I left open for him and his serpents to see the threads.
With a cry, I collapse to my knees, cupping my hands over my ears as the sound pierces my skull with such violence that it sends all of my senses reeling. Distantly, I hear the thump of Kalix’s knees hitting the dirt as well and his grunt. As the last vestiges of the echoing wail fades enough to allow me to think, I reach for the threads, seeking out the one I’ve been trailing this whole time. What I see horrifies me.
Crawling back to my feet and standing on shaky legs, I blink, seeing Ruen in front of me, his hands on my face. He speaks but his words don’t make it through as another of Maeryn’s shrieks slams into my mind.
“Fuck!” Kalix’s curse is sharp and I quickly reach for him, slamming the pathway closed so at least only one of us is hit by the debilitating shock of her screams.
“She’s in trouble,” I gasp out, stumbling as I push Ruen’s hands away.
“Kiera!” he calls out after me, but I’m already on the move.
There’s no precision in my movements as I rush towards the thread—finally seeing it clearer than before—closer too. My boot comes down hard on a dried-out branch and the resounding crack echoes into the rafters of the tree limbs overhead. I halt. At my back, Kalix and Ruen come to crashing stops as well.
“What’s—”
I hold up a hand, fisting it to silence Kalix’s question. He goes quiet immediately. Awareness creeps hot and silent up my spine, spanning over my shoulders and down into my arms as I take in the area we’ve entered. Reaching into my mind, I find the thread—shivering with anxiety—but there’s been no third scream.
I don’t speak. I don’t move. I don’t even breathe, waiting…
The thread in my mind dances side to side as if it’s running from something and yet, perpetually pulled back into place. What happens if the Mortal Gods trapped in their animal forms break out on their own?
The curious question hovers in my mind and just as I ease forward to peer around a particularly large pine tree, a small figure comes sprinting out of the underbrush. A flash of crimson fur is there and gone in an instant.
“It’s her!” I call back as I give chase. “Maeryn!”
The animal continues sprinting—the smaller body of a rabbit darting in and out beneath bushes and over fallen tree limbs with agile movements. “Maeryn!” I call out, chasing after her. “It’s us. We know you! We’re not going to hurt you.”
If she hears me or even understands me in her animal form, Maeryn doesn’t show it. Behind me, the booted footsteps of Kalix and Ruen veer along either side of me. “There’s a grove ahead,” Ruen says. “We can trap her there.”
Cursing beneath my breath, I turn my head, giving him a nod. Together, the three of us chase Maeryn through the trees—leading her closer and closer to the grove. Each time she tries to escape the bounds of our invisible barrier, one of us stops her. When Kalix withdraws his sword, sending her racing back towards Ruen’s side of the slowly closing trap we’re urging her towards, I shoot him a dark look.
He merely shrugs and keeps the weapon in hand as we reach the copse of trees so close together that Maeryn will have to burrow beneath their roots or climb them to get away. As good as she’s proven to be in her animal form though, the fact is—Maeryn isn’t a rabbit. She doesn’t have a rabbit’s natural instinct. So, when the three of us break through and force her into the wall of trees, she turns and backs up.
Softening my voice, I crouch down and hold the flat of my palm out. “It’s okay,” I assure her as my pulse beats faster. “It’s okay, we’re not going to hurt you.” I repeat the words, hoping that she can hear me beyond the animal’s mind she’s trapped in.
As I draw nearer to her trembling, twitching body, I see the spot of blood on her hind leg, and a bolt of pure rage slams into me. It takes considerable effort to keep my anger from entering my voice as I allow my knees to touch the ground a few feet away as Ruen and Kalix align themselves on either side of me.
Maeryn’s little head tilts side to side and I have to repress a grin. Even in this form, she’s a survivor. Black eyes return to me and the matching black nose between a set of long whiskers twitches again. Her movements are sharp and jerky, anxious and fearful.
“Put your fucking sword away,” I command Kalix when I notice that her eyes linger on him the longest. Even as I keep my tone light and even, the words are a warning that if Kalix scares her any more than necessary, I’ll fucking make him regret it.
His grunt and the sound of a sword sliding back into its sheath is his only response. The rabbit seems to calm slightly at the disappearance of the weapon and as I hold my hand out for her, she hesitates. “It’s okay.” I practically whisper the words, hoping she’ll trust me. I’ll say the same thing over and over again if it means she recognizes me again.
“I’ve been looking for you,” I tell her. “I’m sure Niall is worried.”
At the sound of Niall’s name, the rabbit freezes—all twitching and movements ceasing in an instant. Then her head tips back in a very human-like fashion and she looks at me. My heart leaps into my throat. My mouth goes dry and a sense of giddy relief floods me as she takes a bounding jump towards me, her two back feet thumping to create the movement.
“Yes.” I can’t seem to drag in enough air. I reach out a second palm, putting both of them together. “I found you, Maeryn. We found you and we’ll make sure you’re okay.”
She jumps forward and one little paw reaches out, grazing the tip of one finger. The thread in my mind seizes and, on the ground, Maeryn’s rabbit body goes stiff.
“Maeryn?” As she slumps over, I dive forward to catch her. Just before I do, though, an arrow comes careening from between a slight separation higher up on the copse of trees in front of us. It sails over my head.
“Fuck!” Ruen’s curse slices through the quiet grove and I turn back to see him yanking the bloodied end out of his shoulder and tossing it to the ground as crimson wells up, staining his hands and tunic. Kalix unsheathes his sword a second time and glares to the right as two familiar faces appear.
Maral and the girl in the blue tunic.
Maral jerks his chin to the animal at my knees. “Get it, Soza,” he commands, brandishing his own weapon at Kalix with a sly grin. “A rabbit is a poor prize compared to a boar, but I’m sure the Gods won’t mind us taking another to add to our collection.”
Soza dives for Maeryn, gripping her by her ears and ripping her from my grasp before I can snag her first. Holding Maeryn up, Soza yanks out one of her own daggers and holds it before the rabbit’s soft, vulnerable underbelly. I expect Maeryn to kick and squirm, to jump from Soza’s hold, but whatever caused her thread to react that way when she’d touched me has left her fully unconscious and she hangs limply in the other girl’s hand.
My upper lip curls back over my teeth. “Let. Her. Go.” The demand is ripped free from my throat, dragged through the invisible jagged glass shards there as I slowly get to my feet.
Soza arches a brow at me and takes a step back. “After you took our kill?” she scoffs. “No way.”
I reach for my daggers, withdrawing both from my chest holster. “I will give you one chance to release her,” I tell her. “Do so now and I won’t hurt you.”
In response, Soza throws her head back and laughs, her long braids slapping against her sides as she twists and turns her head. To the side, Maral laughs as well.
“So protective of your own kill?” Maral asks, chuckling. “Now you should know how we felt when you stole ours.”
“Ruen?” Though Kalix keeps his eyes on Maral, the directive question to his brother has me cutting my eyes toward him to find Ruen leaning back against a tree, panting heavily.
The blood soaking the front of his tunic isn’t stopping and his face is quickly turning a pale gray. I jerk my attention back to Maral and Soza. “Poison?” I hiss out the accusation as my grip on my daggers tightens. It’s the only reason Ruen would be reacting so poorly to a mere wound that he’d worsened himself by ripping the shaft of the arrow free.
Soza shrugs. “You do what you have to in order to win,” she says.
“And I intend to make the Gods recognize me,” Maral agrees. “I will be the one to win Azai’s prize.”
“You know not what you’re doing.” Ruen’s words are elicited through harsh pants.
No, they don’t, but as I stare into their dark eyes, I have to wonder if they’d even care to know the truth. I crack my neck to one side and press my thumb into the side of my daggers’ hilts. Shifting on my legs, I turn, placing one foot behind the other as I move over a root stretching up out of the ground.
Soza lifts Maeryn’s dangling body higher and finally seems to notice the deadweight of it. “Did you already kill it?” She stares at the rabbit before shaking it slightly. Then she turns her attention to her companion. “Maral! It’s dead already!”
“Who cares?” Maral replies. “We just need to bring it with us and claim that we made the kill.” He eyes first me and then Kalix. “That’s what they did.”
“We did not,” I say coldly, even as I keep my gaze trained on Soza. Let Kalix handle Maral, either way, I doubt these two will leave these fake woods unscathed.
Metal shrieks as Kalix dives forward, attacking Maral with a force that drives the other man back against a tree. I dive for Soza at the same instance, my feet leaving the ground as I soar towards her and take her to the ground.
She cries out in surprise, both of her hands slipping. I wince when her dagger drags back, slicing up and across Maeryn’s rabbit body even as she’s released to the leaf-strewn dirt under us. My body comes down hard on top of Soza, and reacting on instinct, I sink two of my blades into a bit of fabric along either side of her ribs. Soza immediately tries to roll away, but with her tunic bolted to the ground, she merely manages to rip the fabric without freeing herself. She hisses when the edge cuts too close and the scent of her blood rises to my nostrils.
Her own dagger aims right for my throat and I rear back, watching as her arm sails past. I grab it and twist, breaking her wrist with a decisively loud snap!
“Ah!” The sound of her scream pierces my head and I grit my teeth against the pitch as I pluck her dagger from the ground and hold it to her throat.
The flat of her undamaged hand slaps up at my forearm, unintentionally dragging my hand up so that I slice a line straight up her face, through her lips, and over one cheek. With a growl, I drop the dagger and grab both of her hands. Another shriek of pain emits from her when I press my fingers into her broken wrist as I drag them down and pin them beneath my knees.
Anger slithers beneath my flesh, my shadows whispering sweet words into my ears, licking at my insides. They want to be released. They want to play and I know if I let them, these two Mortal Gods will not survive the fight.
Why should I let them? a distant piece of me wonders. What have they done but kill in the name of Gods that would sacrifice them for their own gain later? What is the good of souls that have done nothing but oppress and kill?
Air saws in and out of my lungs as my mind spirals with a bone-deep need. A need to hurt. To maim. To kill. Above our heads, wind rushes in, swirling around us. The crashing sounds of Kalix and Maral trading attacks is followed by something else—a darker whisper.
My eyes land on Soza’s thready pulse beating rapidly in her throat as she stares up at me, brown black eyes glittering with unshed tears. She swallows and bows up beneath me, struggling to get free, and it is no effort at all to press my knee into her broken wrist as I reach down with my other hand and free her non-damaged hand.
“Try again,” I dare her, waiting. The muscles of her legs bunch beneath mine as she seems to contemplate my challenge. I hold her hand up, immobile in my iron grip.
“D-don’t!” she gasps out.
I shake my head. “I told you to let her go,” I say.
“It’s just a fucking rabbit!” she screams before twisting her head. “Maral! Maral! Help me!”
The responding sound of male grunts and curses is all she gets. I lean down, inhaling sharply and freezing as I realize I don’t smell anything. Blinking, I suck in another breath through my nostrils, expecting the scents of wet soil and leaves. All I get is Soza’s sweat and blood on the breeze.
No scents.
Sense not with your flesh.
I sit up and glance around.
See not with your eyes.
A replica. These are not the real Hinterlands, but a replica—I knew that, had told both Kalix and Ruen, but we’d never talked about why the Gods wouldn’t take us to the real place. Maybe to keep us from escaping? But if it’s not real and just a replica of a portion of the actual Hinterlands then where would they place it?
Hear not with your ears.
The wind is real. The body straining beneath mine is real. This place, however, isn’t.
The Void. We’re still in the Void.
Black spikes jut up from the ground around Soza and me, closing claws around us and I release Soza with a gasp as she screams again. I don’t hesitate, leaving behind my daggers as I dive for Maeryn, ripping her body up and into my chest as I roll away from the sudden disruption.
Blood slips over my palms and between my fingers as I scramble backward until my spine slams into a tree trunk. Soza screams as the Void creature reacts to my realization and consumes her struggling bloodied body. The claws clamp tighter, forming a cage before my eyes until her body is pressed to them and one arm—the one with the limp broken wrist—reaches out.
Her eyes plead with me even as her lips part on another shriek of agony and her face twists up. Blood blossoms rich and red over her blue tunic, turning the color brown as a spiked claw spears through the center of her back and comes out the other side between her breasts. A scrap of blue fabric flutters against the sharp point just above the bits of flesh lying underneath and Soza’s screams cease entirely as her jaw unhinges and blood gurgles up from her throat.
“Soza!” Maral’s yell is both shocked and angry.
I turn away from the scene, keeping one hand on Maeryn’s small body as I hold her to me.
Maral races back into the grove and gapes down at the opening in the ground. I see the shadow at his back and before I can stop him, Kalix comes up behind the other man. I watch in mild horror as Kalix plants his boot in the center of Maral’s back and shoves him forward—straight into the arching spines of the creature's claws that have erupted from the ground.
Maral falls upon them, arms pinwheeling as he descends and is skewered atop the glistening ebony protrusions. The same gurgling sound of death echoes back to me from Maral’s throat as his hand loosens and his sword clatters to the ground. Kalix steps up to the edge of the beast’s maw and stares down, tilting his head to the side as he watches—as we both do—it reopen its jaws. It’s a mouth, I now realize, not claws, with rows of sharp black teeth that remind me of the bars in the secret prison below Ortus.
Maral’s bleeding body, the last sounds of life coming from him nothing but gasps and bubbles of blood spewing from his lips, is closed in alongside Soza’s. Together, the two Mortal Gods are dragged deeper into the ground. The crunch of bone breaking and flesh splitting resounds throughout the grove as the forest crawls back into place. Dirt sliding and leaves falling from above to cover the second truth of the day.
Just when you’re sure you’ve seen the worst, the Gods devise a new cruel reality that proves you utterly wrong.