Chapter 10 #2
“Addressing him as a person makes me feel like I’m betraying the ones I’ve lost and the people I continue to fight for.”
“Ah. There it is.”
Annoyance begins to curdle in my belly.
“What does that mean?” I quicken my pace as if I could somehow outrun him. “I’m too tired for these riddles and half spoken words.”
“Alora, you let your anger rule you. It festers inside and leaves little room for anything else.”
I don’t care what he has to say. Any understanding was gone as soon as my family burned. If he wants to believe anger is all that resides in my withered husk, good. He hasn’t even seen a glimpse of the rage that consumes me.
Torment doesn’t begin to describe the way my insides crash against the overwhelming thoughts that rain down. I don’t know if it’s shock, avoidance, or just disbelief that I’m actually in my final moments that feel rather meaningless.
I turn my head to face Rune again, the blonde locks of his hair barely touching the tips of his ears. I study his face, searching for secrets in his expression.
He appears to be only a few years older than me, but his caramel eyes reveal a far wiser man, like he’s seen more in his lifetime than even I have seen in mine.
His eyes, like The Devourer’s, look out of place among the rest of us.
Like they’re plagued by phantoms and primordial sprites or know of mystical secrets.
I guess that’s what happens when you align yourself with a literal monster.
Maybe they’re soulless, maybe they’ve just lost humanity, but none of that truly matters.
It’s odd what your mind latches onto as you face death. I’d prefer to think of happier times. Instead I walk along Rune, questioning the damned meaning in his eyes.
“So it would be you that delivers me to death then?” My words are tipped with venom and I hope he can feel the annoyance that bubbles off me.
Looking away, I study the alley way that Rune leads me through.
Grey stone that rises far higher than I could manage to scale marries with ashy mud of the walkway.
Astoria, in its dreary setting, is a great fortress of the north.
As far as I can tell, the people who live here are as miserable as the weather.
Men and women alike pass by us, making a wide berth so as to not get close to me.
If only they realized that I’m not the monster here, that men in positions of power would villainize those just trying to help the people who scorn them to survive.
Movement ahead catches my attention. A large looming building, with a parapet along the upper edge comes into view. Gilded statues of ravens and griffons line the terrace edge. We must be nearing the village square.
Making the way around the corner of the building is him. His face is twisted and his eyes are in a faraway place. He looks almost tormented.
He must notice Rune and I, because seconds later, his frantic gaze rakes across my body and settles on my face before shifting his attention to my chaperone.
A flutter above him has my feet almost stopping.
A familiar dark raven with a white patch, perches on the balcony ledge, placed curiously to a bronze griffon statue, head crooked as if assessing the situation.
Kina. What in goddess's name… Caym’s raven can only mean one thing, The Hidden are near.
I look around to see if Oak is anywhere, surely she would signal aid.
Hesitantly, I look at her, hoping to not give away her significance to my guards. The Devourer paces over to Rune, exchanging a glare in the few steps it takes him to get to us.
“Good to know you’re still with us.” The dryness of Rune’s tone settles in the space.
The Devourer doesn’t speak. With an untamed look in his eyes, he snatches my arm, never breaking eye contact with Rune.
He begins to escort me down the alley between two of the more grand homes in Astoria.
The brick pavers are darker than the stone from the homes of the outer layout, the craftsmanship noticeable in carvings and adornments of their sidewalks.
I watch Kina hop from the balcony and glide to a small flowering tree, dainty pink petals showering down with the sudden change in weight on the limb.
Her caw is short and soft, offering a well—known comfort. I recognize the sound, it’s a simple signal that Caym and I have taught our birds.
We are here.
We are here.
Exhaustion evaporates from my mind, adrenaline seizing hold.
Gods, where are they? I try to not fidget while I scan my surroundings.
Rune’s steps behind me fall back, growing quieter. The Devourer’s behavior must have him on edge as well, as the air around us seems to hum with something unfamiliar, something tense.
Lowering my voice, I can’t help but ask, the question feeling forbidden as it leaves my lips, “are you alright?”
“Of course,” The Devourer says sharply.
His terse words only cause more confusion. Between his erratic behavior and Kina showing up, I’m unsure what’s happening.
I wipe my palms on my soiled dress, trying to rub off the unease. My heart beats rapidly and I pray to the Goddess no one can detect it. I count my breaths with each step, my feet now touching cobbled stones instead of the sludge that’s ruined my hems.
We pass the little tree, where Kina’s perched, watching me. It’s bizarre the nearly choked out tree still offers up life despite the dull surroundings.
I can’t help but notice the soft pink petals that are crushed beneath my feet as we walk away from the only semblance of new growth on this path.
Inwardly, I scoff at the irony of the little tree that is trying too hard to survive even though it will eventually succumb to the crushing walls of this kingdom.
Maybe that’s all I am, that The Hidden is.
A chance at life that is crushed before fully blooming, just like the very petals smashed beneath my toes.
The prospect of Caym and Lees being here to save me, or worse, bear witness to my death, makes me feel … desperate. Like a caged animal ready to snarl and scream, ready to rip apart myself if it means freedom.
I look to my side and study the booted feet that walk like a predator. His black leather dusty from the cobbled streets. Even the hems of his charcoal pants are dusty from his footfalls.
With a sudden rush of confidence, I brace and force myself to look at his face. His expression is hard, focused on the path he leads us down. I find my steps syncing with his. If only he could feel my desperation, my will to live. If only he would just look at me.
My thoughts plead for him to see me, for him to sneak past my fortitude of defenses. I want to scream at him if only to get him to understand why I was fighting.
He doesn’t look at me though, just continues to watch the horizon, jaw clenched.
Gods, there is no escape. Kina calls out again, causing me to pull my eyes from The Devourer. We’ve come out of the long alley into the town center.
The makeshift gallows come into view, a small crowd forming around them. The knotted rope leers at me, and my throat constricts as if the noose is already placed.
My eyes flit to The Devourer again, trying to read his expression. Surely he wouldn’t seem so upset if he thought this was right? Why else would he look like he was suffering the same fate? Why else would Caym send Kina if not to save me?
A thousand thoughts rally in my mind. The dark beast in my brain howls and snarls as the caged monster demands to break free. My breathing begins to falter, and I realize my vision has started to tunnel, the outer edges blackening.
My magic begins to thrum beneath my skin and it takes all my strength to conceal it. It wouldn’t save me, it couldn’t.
I’m useless when it comes to my own magic, I have no idea how to harness or shape it. Gods it's pathetic that the fates would give me the power of illusion, it’s wasted on me.
If I was only stronger, smarter, and truly worthy of the gift, maybe I wouldn’t be here. Maybe I would be able to fight the fates. Hanin would have had a chance to grow past his adolescence. But he didn’t, because I failed.
Because I’m weak.
Because I’m undeserving of being saved.
Because I’m an embarrassment.
Wetness falls from my face again and I can’t help the tears this time. The silence of the crowd only makes my anxiety rampage.
I’ve lost.
We’ve reached the wooden planks that step up to the gallows’s platform, the structure solidly built and stained on the deck from unthinkable horrors.
I dig my nails into my palm as hard as I can. Enough to pierce the skin like I’ve done time and time again until I feel the sting lengthen into a burning sensation and then I press harder. Until I’m sure that the dampness in my palms isn’t from the humidity in the air.
Time seems to stall, my body threatening to give out.
“Goddess be with me. Usher me into the great plains and welcome me with open arms.” I sniffle the prayer out in a whisper.
Looking around at the crowd that surrounds me, I see no one familiar. Only dull faces, faces of anger and hatred, faces of sorrow, faces of condemnation.
My feet falter as I attempt to step, my body is refusing to move.
“Let me help you walk up the steps with dignity, Alora.” My vision bleeds into darkness and I feel like I could faint.
The Devourer’s warm hand comes around mine and icy cold shock travels to my toes. This means death. The Mors Finalem.
Except I’m not dead. I see him clearly. His touch hasn’t killed me… but it’s not possible. The realization brings me out of my panic. How can I bear his touch?
“Take my hand, little warrior. Let me help you up the steps. Allow me to do this for you.”
His eyes shine with unshed tears. He looks as devastated as I feel.
My voice cracks, “stay with me, Devourer?” My plea is small, broken.
I don’t know why I asked him this. I guess I feel as alone as I did when Hanin and my parents were found.
“Until the end.” His throat bobs with a swallow and he nods his head, his dark locks neatly knotted at the nape of his neck.