Chapter 33 #2
I stand stock-still, flushed from head to toe as the last of the tune fades from my head and the world comes back into focus. Fiends are looking over and watching us, the Rats quieted below. Shame creeps up my neck and strangles me, and I drop my eyes to my feet.
“Don’t use your magic on me,” I whisper, horrified at the tears that build against my eyes.
He watches me for several seconds, but I can’t face him. I can’t meet his gaze. I’m too conflicted. I hate that he did that . . . but I can’t deny that it helped. That it pulled away my rising panic and grounded me.
“I’ll use it when I need to,” he replies, and though it’s not said cruelly, it still makes me tense.
I see his feet turn and then he walks away, and I slump slightly, finally glancing up. He and Ciona exchange words and I ease away, separating myself from both him and the other fiends as much as I can. I can’t bear to witness the judgment in their eyes.
Instead, I watch as one of the guards lifts a small wooden beam, and upon Piper’s go-ahead, he lowers it down to the pit until it rests at an incline. The Rats instantly start to swarm it to escape, but Piper plays again, halting their exit.
This time, the melody is simple and vivid and has no effect on me. It’s a pithy blast in a higher note that halts the Rats trying to flee. Then, with a tap of his finger, the tune splits, and I count as just seven Rats are lured up the post, while the rest stay obediently down.
I cringe as each of the Rats circles around him, poised and waiting. The guard lifts the post back out of the pit and tosses it away, but Piper’s song extends. One by one, the Rats twitch their noses and turn their heads before moving toward each of us fiends.
My heart pounds in fear as I stare at the one that stops at my feet, its eyes red, gray fur slicked with sweat. Two sharp teeth jut from the front of its mouth, and I back up a step, though it doesn’t move to follow me.
“Drip some blood on the Rat, please,” Ciona calls. “It won’t attack while under the Piper’s lure, so you have nothing to fear.”
I hear others moving around me, but I don’t take my eyes off the rodent. Wanting to get this over with as fast as possible, I push up my sleeve and hold my cupped palm beneath my wound. Blood slowly drips into my hand, and I sprinkle it on the Rat.
It continues to blink up at me with an eerie stillness.
Someone shouts, and I look over to see a blood-speckled Rat go stiff, its screech cutting off right before it pitches sideways. It doesn’t get up again, its tail stuck in a curve like a hook, its eyes unblinking.
The fiend stands over it, staring with shock. It’s the man from Hamelyn, and I can see the thought running through his head before he says it: “Well, this would’ve been good to know.”
Two more Rats die from the blood of a couple of fiends from Odelina’s group, and then Piper leads the surviving rodents back to the pit with the rest. His music cuts off, pipe shoved into the holder at his belt, and Ciona trills for us to follow her.
I feel Piper’s gaze on my back as I go, but I don’t turn to look.
I stare at my feet as my shoes scrape against the shriveled dirt, feeling far too conflicted.
Once we’re on level ground again, Ciona leads us to the burg’s front entrance.
We pass the metal wall and go out through the gate.
I see Garren and Frid there with the guards, and the rest of the fiends are waiting too, the children running around and kicking up dust from the ground.
“Five didn’t have the correct Plague match,” I hear Garren tell Ciona. “But we’ve confirmed the rest.”
“That is excellent,” Ciona chirps. “Four from my group had no match, but that means we have most sorted, not counting the children—but their Plague will be the same as their parent. With this confirmation, I should be able to trace the others soon and have a firmer grasp on their scents. When any of the other Plagues pop up, we can narrow it down. I’m getting close. ”
“You’ve done incredibly well,” I hear Piper tell her, but I turn away from the Core and enfold myself in the gathered fiends.
“Hey,” Kaetir greets. His skin is dusted with dirt, and sweat dapples his brow, but his expression sparkles with enthusiasm.
“My blood worked for Flies. Isn’t that incredible?
All that time the Plague was in Hamelyn, and I could’ve gotten them away with my blood.
” He shakes his head in astonishment. “I can’t believe it. ”
“Mine worked for Fire,” Rimona says, rocking back on her heels. “You should’ve seen it. As soon as I tossed my blood on the flames, they just went out. Even Havlon would swoon.”
“That’s great,” I reply, trying to paste on a smile.
“What about you?” Kaetir asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing worked for me or eight other fiends.”
“But that’s still exciting!” Rimona says with a little bounce. “That means it’s narrowed down. Your blood will work on one of the other four Plagues.”
I blink heavily, my stomach still in knots. “Yeah.”
A guard pushes forward, passing out strips of cloth to bind our arms, while another comes around with waterskins. I latch on to one, tipping it back and guzzling, flooding my parched throat with big gulps of water.
I force myself to stop and pass it to Rimona, and while she and Kaetir drink, I untuck my veillet, using the long end to sop up the sweat on the back of my neck.
“Want me to bind you?” Kaetir asks after dragging his arm across his mouth.
I shake my head. “That’s okay, I can do it.”
He nods and starts to help Rimona, and when I spot a guard filling more waterskins, I go over to where he stands off to the side. “Could I have more water, please?”
He gives another waterskin to me and then walks off to pass the others out, leaving me beside the guard’s building.
I take a moment to myself, leaning against the wall without Kaetir’s or anyone’s attention on me.
The magnitude of what’s just happened here is settling over me with a significant weight.
I watch the other fiends in the distance, and everyone seems shocked and excited, but I still worry.