Chapter 11
Eleven
THE RIVER
The scent of damp earth and grass mixed with wafting smoke tickled my nose.
My head throbbed as I blinked awake. Not that I could see anything. The sack over my head had been replaced with a makeshift blindfold. The rough, torn fabric covered nearly the entire top half of my head, but at least I could breathe.
I supposed I was still suffering from days of fatigue. I must have passed out at some point during my kidnapping, before I was then dropped on the lumpy ground, propped up against something rough, sturdy, likely the trunk of a tree.
My wrists were sore from my hands being tied behind my back. My back ached as if I’d been like this for a few hours.
Rushing water overlaid shuffling footsteps of people around me. I counted at least eight distinct voices—male and female.
“I couldn’t do anything for Frank.”
“His death honors us and our cause. He will be avenged.”
“Tannis and I will report back to the village.”
“We must proceed quickly with our plans before the king makes his next move.”
“I didn’t want to leave the dark castle without retaliating, and then this witch bolted out into the forest. It was like a sign.”
Witch? Was he referring to me? I coughed against my dry throat. “What’s going on?” I kept my voice from shaking. “What do you want from me?”
There was a crackle, mechanical clicks, and a persistent hum somewhere far to my right, beyond what I could tell was a burning fire. A machine of some sort? I tried to squint through the fabric to see better, to no avail.
The rogues didn’t acknowledge my questions.
The sneer in one female’s voice was blatant. “The word is that she is the reason we are being thinned out. The witch casts spells and reads minds, exposing our people, and then the king kills them all.”
I jerked in my seat. “Hey! You’ve got it all wrong. I’ve been trying to help you. I’ve been—ow!”
Someone kicked my feet.
“Shut up.”
“We don’t care what explanations you have. A witch like you doesn’t deserve to live. There are only few of us that have narrowly escaped being captured by your king.”
“Oleg, Sal, you two stay here and keep an eye on her. The rest of us will head back first and let the general know we’ve caught her. In her state, she might be too dangerous to take with us to the other side.”
“The general will know what to do.”
The machine, or whatever it was, emitted another set of clicks and hums. A bright glow seeped in from the small gap above the cloth on my face, but I couldn’t see any clearer through the blindfold.
After a few moments, the air quieted, leaving only two sets of footsteps.
Either Oleg or Sal sat to my left.
I tried not to wriggle my wrists against the rope bindings. I had to stay calm and rational. I couldn’t afford to panic and trigger any emotional outbursts in these rogues. They all seemed sufficiently provoked. “Please. There’s been a huge misunderstanding here.”
I swallowed hard, racking my brain for a way to explain that didn’t sound patronizing. If only I could make them believe I was on their side. “I was only trying to help. I truly understand the suffering the king has caused across the land.”
Tension crept up my neck at their non-response. If I couldn’t even get these rogues to talk to me, it would be impossible to get through to them. “You know it makes little logical sense to kill me. What use is another death to your cause? Wouldn’t it be worth more if I were to help you?”
A rough chuckle responded instead across the fire. “Our people have died plenty. I would rather see you hanged in the square for all your sins.”
The voice to my left responded, “I would have done it myself if the others had let me. For your information, Frank was like a father to me. And it would be truly satisfying to choke the life out of you, watch the life drain from your eyes, maybe bleed you a little first, cut you some—”
A violent gust tore around us without warning, a howling force that clawed at the air and ripped across the forest with such ferocity it felt less like wind and more like something unseen and furious descending.
“Wh-what the devil is that?” one of them cried out.
“Oh, dear god—NO!”
Eyes wide, I startled in my seat at the blood-curdling scream. Panting, I tried to look around, left, right—I still couldn’t see anything through the blindfold. Tucking my feet beneath me, I edged back against the trunk of the tree in dread.
What the hell was going on now?
There was more frantic yelling, metal scraping as if weapons were unsheathed, and scrambling footsteps amongst the dry, fallen leaves.
My heart pounded in my chest as the visceral panic from those around me crammed into my awareness.
“You were followed! You idiot, you’ve led him straight to—”
Another bright flash of light.
Retching groans punched the air, and heavy thuds slapped against the grass. That regrettably familiar putrid stench once again made my stomach churn.
The eerie silence that followed was just as unnerving.
Whatever chaos had ensued left only the rushing of the water and the low crackling of fire.
I tried to catch my breath. I knew they were dead—Oleg and Sal. What I didn’t know was what other horrors abounded in this forest. The last time I was here, I had been captured and almost eaten by a terrifying rainbow monster.
A presence lowered to sit somewhere to my left, where either Oleg or Sam had been sitting. A chill wrapped around my ankles. But strangely, it brought me instant comfort.
I knew what they were.
I knew who it was.
I took a deep cleansing breath. Despite my relief, I couldn’t help the wryness in my question. “You didn’t just send your puppet soldiers to come and get me?”
The blindfold fabric was whipped off my head—I assumed by his shadows, since it didn’t look like he’d moved from where he sat on a log across the way.
Firelight danced across his striking features, turning his tousled brown hair to burnished bronze and setting his blue eyes aglow like sapphires lit from within. The king met my gaze. “I thought I would even the score again.”
“What score? Oh. Is this you returning me the favor for saving your life at the ball?”
I didn’t expect him to acknowledge my question.
“Why did you run?” he asked instead.
I bit my lip. “I was…”
“Scared?”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat.
Heartbroken.
Again.
When he’d killed that man right before my eyes, I’d felt my own blood drain from my face.
Any remnants of optimism I had been desperately holding onto instantly dissipated.
It was a visceral stab in the chest. It was too late for me to restore the man I once knew.
All of my efforts had been in vain. It was a sign. My Rabb was truly lost.
But I couldn’t say that.
I was all too aware that I shouldn’t be relieved either. This man, who had come to my rescue, was significantly more dangerous than the rebellious rogues who had kidnapped me.
I lowered my gaze. “Yes. I was scared.”
“I found this on him.”
A little vial of powder dropped onto my lap. I frowned at it in recognition. I’d brought it from my own lab that morning I came to the castle. “That’s…mine.”
Shifting in his seat, the king nodded. “That man, he was spying on you. He was trying to kill you.”
My mouth went dry again. “What?” That vial could only have been stolen directly from my chambers at the castle. Someone would have been rummaging through my clothes, all my personal items.
Looking away, he let out a bored sigh. “It seems the entire kingdom has heard that I’d found a sorceress with the power to identify traitors and expose them. And these rogues are sending in their best to get rid of you.”
Chez had said as much, but I didn’t realize how a misunderstanding like this might prove perilous for me. I was only trying to help, but I suppose it wasn’t difficult to be persuaded whose side I was on.
“It’s my fault,” he mumbled.
Startled, I shot him a look. I wasn’t expecting him to admit any such thing. It almost sounded like he was trying to appease my guilt, trying to make me feel better.
“I should have locked you up better,” he went on.
My expression collapsed into a grimace.
Perfect.
I shook my head in disbelief. Served me right to expect anything more from the Wicked King. I ought to just take him at his word. He was simply here to settle his life’s debt. Now, we were even.
With a soft grunt, I got to my feet. “What is this place?” I tried to make out our surroundings in the dim light.
A low grassy hill ran along one side, past where rushing water flowed.
“We’re at the river, aren’t we?” I hadn’t been to the River of Tears in months.
Too curious to stay still, I walked past the fire pit to investigate.
There was a pause before his response. “The river is just beyond that hillside.”
I sidestepped cloaks and bundles strewn haphazardly across the dry ground. The camp was a mess. There was no blood, though. No dead bodies. Or if there had been dead bodies, the king had already disposed of them.
Perhaps he remembered how horrified I had been at the sight of the man he’d hacked to pieces back at the castle.
If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought he had even waited until there were fewer people to kill before coming to rescue me.
Of course, that was all hopeful nonsense on my part. That would have been way too considerate of him.
Not caring that my hands were still bound, I eagerly made my way up the hill. While news of the river’s mysterious condition had reached my clock tower, there had been no further information on why or how.
Once I reached the summit of the hill, my breath caught. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to see, but it surely wasn’t this.
One moment, there was only a void-like haze hovering over the blackened water, and the next, an elegant steamboat appeared, its smokestacks coughing out slowly, spiraling plumes that did not rise so much as drift sideways, folding back into themselves.
Eerie as mist, its hull was accented in gold and iron, and assembled from curling vapors. Its massive paddle wheel dragged through the water, sending ripples outward in warped, elongated waves.
Beyond the windows, the river no longer resembled water. The distant horizon curved inward, light from unseen stars smeared across the sky in long, distorted streaks.
Ghostly velvet chairs and brass fittings scattered.
The heavy curtains of the riverboat’s smoky casino spun lazily in mid-air all along the length of the river.
All the while, its occupants remained oblivious to the anomaly that ensnared them—stretched, bent, halting mid-motion like glass sculptures before collapsing seconds later.
All caught at the edge of syrup-thick time, spiraling slowly toward a vast and invisible devouring center.