The Study of Man #3
I pull my leg in closer to my body and hiss from the pain the movement causes. He scowls further but doesn’t speak.
“Do you have a name, Horseman?”
His brow arches at this. “So you do know who I am.”
“Yes. You’re not the first I’ve come across in my travels.”
His head tilts. “Which of my brothers have you seen?”
“The White One. The one who goes by the name Pollock McTierney.”
“Interesting. Was this recently?”
“Yes.”
He picks up a leaf from the ground. His gloved fingers rub at the red blood coating it as if he is trying to decipher some puzzle.
When he remains quiet, I ask, “Do you have a name, or do I just call you the Grey One?”
“Orán.”
“No surname?”
He shakes his head and holds up the leaf. “Why do you bleed like a human when you aren’t one?”
“I am—a human, that is.”
His gaze travels over my face and then my body. It lands on my wound. “You’re also not healing as you should.”
“What makes you say so?”
“Before. I saw you do so. I felt the power that runs in your veins, but it’s gone now. Why?”
“I wasn’t born with it. It was gifted to me, and it runs out. And occasionally this happens.”
“So you are capable of dying?” He juts his chin out to the side as if speaking of something unseen. “Die as they do?”
“Capable of it, yes. In danger of this getting infected? Also, yes.”
He pauses at this, and his wrinkle forms between his brows. “We probably should not let it fester then. Do you have first aid supplies in your saddlebag? Something to clean and disinfect this?”
“Some.”
I turn and press my palms into the earth and attempt to get to my feet. I groan as I do, and suddenly his hand is there on my elbow and another at my back, guiding me up. He removes the one from my elbow quickly, but the other remains on my back.
“Call your horse.” It is a demand, not a request.
I place two fingers between my lips and whistle for Enoch. A bird call he’ll recognize. He arrives within a moment, though at the sight of the Horseman, his gait slows as if he’s wary.
I coo and call him forward, assuring him that it will be alright.
Then hobble closer and brace myself against the pain radiating upward from my torn flesh.
Once Enoch is close enough, I reach into the bag strapped across his hindquarters and search for gauze and a binding I can use to wrap around my leg.
“The journey is not going to be easy with your leg like it is.”
I spare him merely a glance. “I assumed as much.”
“The scent of blood…”
I scowl when he doesn’t finish. “What?”
“Mask the smell somehow if you can. It would not be wise to let it linger in the air.”
“Why is that?”
“Trust me.” The hard set of his features. The worry there. There is something he’s not saying.
“Nexus, my horse is faster. Do you want me to take you? She can carry us both.”
“No. I will make my own way.”
“There are…” He pauses yet again and looks off to the side. He searches the forest this way and that as if listening for any sound before meeting my gaze again. “Beasts that hunt by the scent of blood. It’s not safe to go alone.”
“Are you offering to protect me?”
“It would seem so, yes.”
“And if I said no?”
“Then I will do so from afar.”
“Why?”
He does not answer. In fact, his lips flatten in a disapproving line.
It is harder to get on my horse this time around. The tremors have started due to blood loss, and the gnawing hunger for the elixir screams through my body. My strength wanes minute by minute.
I am in no shape for a stand-off with him, and though I have small hidden pockets of elixir on me, I choose not to use them in order to prolong this interaction and see what the Horseman’s agenda is in helping me. Surely, he will reveal it soon.
I gather the reins and turn to face him. “Never mind. Come or don’t. But know one thing, Horseman.”
He stares up a little to meet my gaze. His chin lifts imperceptively as if to go on.
“I’m quite capable of protecting myself. Injured or not.”
“I doubt that very much.”
I had jerked the reins right to head west, but at his declaration, I turned back. “What?”
“Demons have breached the cracks in the earth. They are hunting in packs. Tell me, Priestess, have you ever fought a pack of demons before?”
My mouth falls open. My mind fills with questions and impossibilities. “What are you talking about?”
“Just what I said. The fissures in the earth have created a gateway. Some of Hell’s residents have found a way through. I’m not sure how many, but enough that it is not safe for you to travel on your own.”
“How do you know this?”
“I’ve come across many of the dead they have slaughtered in their wake.
Smelling like blood and of Heaven as you do is going to be a literal calling card to them.
How you have escaped their notice thus far has puzzled me for some time.
If they catch even a hint of your scent, they will seek you out, and I guarantee you won’t survive their assault without my protection.
Humans are defenseless against them.” He nods to me.
“You, as you are now, are going to be the most appetizing thing they scent on the wind.”