9. Chapter 9
I did warn you, It said as the sound of a sleeping Serich’s breathing filled the cramped interior of the cave.
I said nothing. It didn’t either, for a moment, tapping its claws monotonously. Like it was plumbing the shallow depths of its sympathy to find something comforting to say.
It’s not a spectacular result but it might not mean what you think it means. It spoke as if it were choosing its words carefully. Maybe it means you evict me. Maybe it means some kind of transformation. Maybe you’ll have a breakdown and change your name, join the players.
I tried to shift into a less taxing position, but there was scarcely room to move.
Serich’s tall frame was curled into a tight, uncomfortable ball beneath a threadbare blanket, his head pillowed on his arm a hair’s breadth from my thigh.
He’d fallen into a twitchy doze almost as soon as he’d laid down, leaving me alone in the cold company of my demon.
Outside, birds screamed. Other things screamed back, but it seemed nothing knew we were here. For now.
I could never join the players, I said. I would be a miserable actress.
You act all the time. You act like you care when the children tell you their silly stories.
Because I do care.
Oh, It said, stymied. And then: Futures can be changed, Des.
That was the first time It had called me that. I suppose I should make my peace with God, I said in a falsely light tone. So I don’t wind up someplace less than desirable.
There is no Heaven anymore. There are only Hells.
I sat there huddled in the dark, momentarily lost for words, thoughts. I felt as if someone had told me there was no such thing as demons, that It had been a figment of my imagination all this time and that actually, I was mad. How can that be?
Angels fall. God gets bored. It’s not there anymore. That’s as much as I know.
That can’t be true. I shook my head as if to shake some sense into its occupant. There can’t be one without the other.
It shrugged in graceful boredom, like It didn’t wish to spend its time convincing me of anything.
What happens, then, I said, to the souls that should have gone there? To the ones who were already there?
They drift, I guess.
I felt a chill that had little to do with the weather.
How many lost souls wafted through this plane, alone, aimless?
All those times I’d thought I’d noticed something moving in the shadows of my bedroom out of the corner of my eye, was that them?
When I kneaded bread dough in Lord Fletcher’s empty kitchen and could swear I felt something shift behind me, had that been one?
Serich’s head found my thigh as he gave a sleepy snuffle.
I lifted a hand to stroke his hair. How would he feel, knowing nothing waited beyond the veil?
He’d told me he’d always drawn comfort from the fact that even if his earthly body died, it wouldn’t be the end.
That maybe he could finally meet his mother, who had died in childbirth twenty-two years earlier.
I felt I’d burst with sympathy for him as I traced the shell of his ear.
You have a kind heart, It said, as though it were more warning than compliment. Don’t let it get you killed.
I could dream up little to say in response. A picture of my bloodrose trembled across my mind’s eye, naked, petals strewn about the earth. And then a firm, shadowy hand wiped away the image.
I sighed. Tried to get comfortable, my spine melding viciously to the jagged rock.
Through the gap where the boulder did not quite meet the rim of the cave’s mouth, a slightly closer shriek rent the air.
I jolted upright. Serich twitched but didn’t wake.
I couldn’t help leaning forward to take a look.
The wood was lit by night as if by a layer of effervescent dust, like the stars from the sky had been scattered around the forest. It was beautiful but terrible too, a place of shadows and whispers and mischievous winking lights.
I laid my palm upon Serich’s exposed ear.
He hadn’t wanted to stuff them with linen so he’d be alerted if we had to run, but those whispers had the hazy suggestion of words.
I didn’t like to think what it would mean if they took shape.
They couldn’t sway me, not with It at the helm of my mind, but Serich would be at their mercy.
They’ll all be more concerned with getting to the trees bordering the village, It said. I doubt they know two humans slipped into their territory while they were sleeping. This is off their beaten paths. They don’t run this way to get to the border.
I wasn’t altogether convinced. What are they? If all the village elders are wrong?
Demons damned and cast from Hell. Our criminals. Creatures as well. They’re mostly nocturnal. I’ve never been in the wood by night but I used to find their tracks in daylight.
How bad would a demon have to be to get tossed out of Hell?
You should sleep now, It said, before I could ask. Your eyes are heavy.
I’m too wound up.
You won’t survive here running on zero rest. I can force it, if you want.
No. I leaned my head against the rock wall.
I hated the way it felt when It took the reins, as if I were but a passenger in my own skin.
Trapped in the tiny dungeon cell of my own mind.
How terrible it must be for It, to spend six years in quarters even more cramped than this cave.
And how could I sleep when at any moment we might be descended upon?
I’ll be listening. Nothing can make it into the clearing without me knowing. It would be just a little push. You’re tired enough that it wouldn’t take much.
And you’re not tired?
I haven’t needed sleep in six years.
I’m not sure if I trust you to be completely on your guard. I readjusted myself on the hard rock floor, wondering what sorts of aches would make their complaints known come morning. You took your time when we were nearly roasted by those faeries.
I wouldn’t have let you die. I wanted to see what you could do. How far you could get without me.
You said you’d be there with an I told you so before I breathed my last.
Yes, well. It flicked a testy claw. I’m as capable of bluster as anybody else. Sleep now, It said, in a voice heavy with suggestion.
There was an arm slung around my hips, a club at my back when I woke.
Good Lord, It responded instantly and with much exasperation, its tail snapping at the floor of my mind. You must be joking.
I know what it is. I battled a groan as I disentangled myself from Serich and pushed up on a hand which could scarcely support my weight. It happens to them all.
The crick in my neck was nearly as hideous as the voice in my ear. I thought his piety would keep that sort of thing from happening.
I wished It had burrowed into the dark recesses of my head, the way it usually did at this hour, though I was grudgingly grateful for its presence. We might be dead if It hadn’t stuck around.
Rise and shine, sweetheart. Wake your oaf. Daylight burns without you.
The gray light streaming through the crack in the cave barrier was too much for my night-soaked eyes. I wished for coffee, though I’d never tasted it, never would. No way I could ever afford it.
I missed Livvy.
I will give you all the gold from the floor of Hell’s antechamber if you manage to break the curse, It said in a voice of tantalizing suggestion, wicking up my every unspoken, unacknowledged dream and desire and marching them across my mind’s eye.
Blankets that didn’t look as though they doubled as rags.
Clothes which weren’t threadbare. Enough food in the pantry to erase those lines that etched between Margaret’s brows whenever she peered inside it.
Coffee to banish the bruises beneath Livvy’s eyes.
Materials for Robert to patch the cracks he kept finding in the cottage.
Toys for the children. Maybe even coin enough to build Monde’s End back up from ruins.
Devils and their barters. It would give me everything I wanted and then catfoot back into my life later to ask for a favor I could not refuse. You were so sure I would die in the attempt, I said. Now you’re offering me gold?
Maybe I changed my mind about you.
I didn’t need Its gold. Breaking free would be payment enough.
What’s your name? I asked on a whim, as if my sleeping brain had made the decision in the night. Will you have me call you It forever? I know you’re male. I’d known it with chill and sudden clarity the moment he’d made that lewd comment by the miserable little stream.
The moment you know my true name is the moment you’ll find me at your mercy. The smirk in his voice cracked into a fanged smile. I don’t mind ‘It’.
The wood seemed to grow colder the closer we had gotten to Hell. I found this a strange paradox as I shivered at the entrance of the cave.
It sat back from the window behind my eyes, propping his feet upon the sill. Not all hells are hot. The one my mother comes from is all frost and midnight.
I wondered if that had something to do with the chills I sometimes got when It stepped down from my mind and into my body. That sounds sort of pretty.
In a painful, brutal way.
I took a sip from my skin. Watery daylight trickled over the treetops and low fogs curled about my ankles as I crouched there with my teeth on the verge of chattering. Will I see it, if I make it through the gates?
I’m almost certain of it. Though he tried to hide it, I heard something not unlike dread in the oil slick of his voice.
I rolled my head upon my shoulders, grimacing at the ghastly sound it made. Every ache and pain I had collected overnight had made their complaints known. Now it was a veritable orchestra of screeching. I could only hope the day’s long hike would help to loosen my muscles.
Serich glanced my way at the gruesome cracks and pops my body had made, chewing on a strip of salted beef. “Do you have a crick?” He slipped a hand around the back of my neck, heat bleeding from his skin and into mine. “I can rub the knot out.”
Is that supposed to be some kind of innuendo? It asked.
He’s trying to be kind. It’s in his nature. You’d know little about that.
I think his nature can be summed up in a long and tired sigh.
“Thank you,” I said, just to bother It.
Serich gathered up my dark braid, twisting it into a knot atop my head. “Can you hold this up for me?” His breath warmed my nape and somehow sent a shudder up my spine.
I did, bowing my head to bare my neck. I made sure It heard my appreciative groan as Serich worked at the knot, wondering if It could feel the way my skin melded beneath Serich’s eager fingers. I hoped so.
And you call me petty, It said.
The massage hurt, in the most blissful way. A lot of pressure, too much almost, steadily building until I had to bite down on my bottom lip and squinch my eyes shut, but I didn’t want him to stop.
“Are you okay?” Serich asked, amused, his mouth a breath from my earlobe.
I nodded into my knees, afraid of what sort of noise might come out of me if I dared use my voice.
And it occurred to me, as Serich dug into all my hollow aches, that I had never let a man so close to me before.
I hadn’t even been able to accept William’s kiss all those years ago, knowing It would have been there to witness.
I had little to lose now, if my bloodrose could be believed.
Serich got to his knees behind me, working me like clay between his hands. “That rose really upset you, didn’t it?” he asked, as if he too could read my thoughts.
“I can’t pretend it didn’t startle me.”
“Startled would be a good word for how I felt about my own.”
At least you’re not going to die in this wood, I almost told him. At least you’ll have children, a family of your own, not one your best friend has been forced to share with you.
I thought we’d decided it didn’t necessarily mean that, It interjected.
Serich’s hands moved down, his thumb digging into the groove beneath my shoulder blade in a way that made my back arch like a bowstring. “We’re not controlled by fate, Des. We have free will. Even if that destiny was handed down by God, that wouldn’t mean you’d have to go along with it.”
I feel very uncomfortable when I agree with him, It said. Tell him to stop being so familiar and finish eating. You’ll have to get a move on if you want to make it across the plains.
We moved through the noiseless wood. The fogs hadn’t burned off yet and hung thickly in the air, dense as blankets with fewer trees to navigate around.
Still they reached out for me as we moved through it, clinging to my shirt like thorns, running luxurious fingers through my hair, tracing the curves of my ear.
It plays with me, I said as a tendril twisted about my wrist. It only moves around Serich like he’s an obstacle. Do you know why?
Maybe it tastes your curse, It offered after a stilted pause. Maybe it knows where you’re headed.
It almost feels friendly.
Little in this wood is. There are things here that even I can’t save you from.
We walked for hours without a break, drinking from our waterskins and taking bites of jerky as we moved, passing fewer and fewer trees along the way. The bulk of the fogs eventually wore off, sucking back into the earth. I could have sworn they’d waved their wraithlike fingers at me in farewell.
Without the sun, it was difficult to judge the hour, but it had to be just after midday when I realized we’d not passed a stand of trees in some time.
They still grew here; monstrous, half-dead looking figs that looked like they’d been struck by lightning, though they stood much further apart, wide open oceans of grass between them.
This section has fewer trees because the creatures here are vulnerable to wood, It said. Succubi and incubi need both their eyes to hypnotize. Blinding them with a stake can buy you a few minutes.
All seemed darker here, oppressive. The air pulsed with electricity, the way it did before a storm.
Watch your step. It trained my eyes on heaps of disturbed dirt scattered across the ground. You don’t want to wake anything.
The mounds had the look of unmarked, hastily dug graves. Graves excavated with fingernails, not spades.
You’ll find little cover for a while, It said. There are very few places to hide in the plains.