The Book of Kindly Deaths

by Eldritch Black

  Mr. Barrow looked as if he was about to say more, but he stopped as a figure rose from a nearby table and joined them at the bar.

  At first glance Eliza thought he looked quite normal. A teenager, maybe two or three years older than she. He wore a dark-blue hood above his long black coat, the darkness of his garments in stark contrast to his chalk-white face.

  As he glanced at Eliza, she tried to avoid the glare from his eyes, which were so green that she thought it had to be a trick of the light. Nut-brown sparks danced at their centers, hypnotizing her until he opened his mouth and displayed two long fangs nestling amongst his teeth.

  Eliza stepped away.

  “What can I get you?” Mr. Barrow asked. If he felt any sense of danger from the boy, he didn’t show it.

  “I need something to take for the road. Food, no drink. What do you have?”

  “How about dirge dust? I have a couple of bags. Not the tastiest of things, but remarkably filling.”

  “I’ll take it.” The boy turned to Eliza. “You don’t need to cower, girl. I won’t bite you. Humans aren’t to my taste.”

  Eliza shook her head. “I’m not frightened of you.”

  The boy smiled, a hollow gesture. “Of course you’re not.”

  She turned away from him and gazed across the bar. Anywhere but at those piercing green eyes.

  Eliza watched as a curious figure stepped away from the boy’s table, slipping a small bottle into its coat. The figure was thin, but not in terms of weight, it was thin in a way that meant it wasn’t quite there.

  Like a ghost. None of the other drinkers seemed to notice it.

  “Do you know that man who just poured something into your drink?” Eliza asked the boy. He growled, shooting across the bar as the figure melted into the background and became one with the shadows upon the wall. Eliza strained to see a further sign of the figure, but there was nothing.

  It was as if it had never existed.

  The boy seized his tankard and flung its contents across the table, causing smoke to rise as the wood beneath blackened. Then he pulled off his hood, his dark hair whipping around his head like snakes, the two small horns buried within shining in the candlelight. “Who did this?” the boy demanded, unsheathing the sword by his table. He held it up, gazing defiantly at the monsters before him.

  Not one met his gaze.

  “He’s gone,” Eliza called. “He vanished into the wall over there.” She pointed to the shadows.

  The boy stalked over, running his hand along the wall and shaking his head. He sheathed his sword before joining her at the bar. “What did he look like?”

  “I…I don’t know. I remember he looked like a man. At least, I think he did. He wore a long coat and hood, like yours. And…I can’t seem to remember anything else now. It’s almost like…like it never happened. Like he was never there.”

  “It sounds like a darkwight,” Mr. Barrow said to the boy. “You must have powerful enemies.”

  The boy shook his head. “I only have one enemy.” He grimaced, playing with a chain around his neck. “That is, until I reach the Midnight City.”

  18

  Bound by Wyrd

  The boy approached Eliza and held out his hand. She wondered what he was doing. The gesture seemed so human that she took his hand and shook it.

  “I’m bound to you,” he said. “For now.”

  “Bound?” Eliza asked.

  “To protect you from meeting your end, as you protected me from meeting mine. Is this your first visit to the Grimwytch?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then it won’t be long until my duty is met. And once it is, I shall resume my task. Will you wander our roads?”

  “I…I suppose. I’m looking for my grandfather. Tom.”

  The boy shrugged. “I don’t know any humans. At least, I didn’t until this evening. Where’s your grandfather?”

  Eliza shook her head. “I have no idea.”

  “Well, I can tell you where he was going,” Mr. Barrow said. “Although it was some time ago, and he could be anywhere by now. He was headed for the Midnight City first, and from there, I don’t know. He told me he was going to ‘free an asset,’ whatever that meant. And then he was going to hunt for a malefactrix, although he didn’t know where she was. As I said, he mentioned righting two wrongs, and maybe he managed to, but I doubt it.” Mr. Barrow looked downcast as he added, “He’d have been back by now if he had. And I’ve heard no word from him.”

  “Well, this is interesting,” the boy said. “It seems we’re bound not just by duty, but wyrd also.”

  “‘Wyrd’?” Eliza asked.

  “Fate, destiny,” Mr. Barrow said.

  “So how come we’re bound?”

  The boy gazed at Eliza as if seeing her for the first time. “The Midnight City is also my destination. And I, too, have wrongs to right, girl.”

  “My name isn’t ‘girl,’” Eliza said. “It’s Eliza Winter.”

  The boy nodded. “Then I shall call you Eliza Winter.”

  “Just Eliza will do.”

  “Make up your mind, will you?” He grimaced, but his eyes showed a slight flicker of warmth.

  “And you are?” Eliza asked.

  “You wouldn’t be able to pronounce my name even if I could offer it to you. And I can’t. But you may call me by the name my brother gave me. Shard.”

  “Shard?”

  “A fragment.” He held up his fingers, showing a tiny space. “My brother used to say I was a mere fragment of the cosmos compared to him.”

  “So, what does your brother say now?”

  “Nothing,” Shard said. “He’s dead. Along with my parents. They were slaughtered.” His eyes flashed. “Which is why I have business in the city. And why that darkwight, if that’s what it was, tried to poison my drink. But enough talk—word will have spread of your arrival. We should leave at once.”

  “When I find my grandfather I’ll tell him you were asking after him,” Eliza told Mr. Barrow.

  “Please, do that.” The landlord smiled. “And tell him there’s a pint of Old Catwhist waiting. Good luck, Eliza Winter. Or maybe I should say Eliza Drabe.”

  Shard walked to his scorched table and picked up his bag, a large black bow, and a quiver of arrows. He led Eliza from the inn, opening the door for her. Eliza found herself curiously touched by the gesture. It seemed strangely polite and antiquated.

  The air in the countryside outside the Malady Inn was even cleaner and Eliza took a deep breath, filling her lungs. As she stepped from the porch, she stopped, her mouth falling open as she took in the sight before her.

  Beyond the inn, a muddy road led into a great black forest, and above, the moon hung low. But somehow, it was different. Larger, redder, and…just different. Maybe it was the stars surrounding it, for they seemed brighter…and although she’d never studied the constellations, Eliza could see these stars were arranged in unfamiliar ways.

  “It’s not the same,” she said.

  Shard looked up. “What isn’t?”

  “The moon. It’s different. But I don’t know why.”

  “Is it larger? Smaller? The same color?” Shard asked, and Eliza detected a tone of fascination below his gruffness.

  “It’s just…not the same as ours. I wonder if it tastes the same…”

  “Tastes?” Shard looked at Eliza as if she were insane. “Humans eat their moon? How?”

  Eliza laughed. “We don’t. It’s an old tale. People tell their children the moon is made of cheese.”

  Shard looked bemused as he shook his head, beginning to laugh; within moments he was doubled over.

  “Do you know what cheese is?” Eliza asked. “Do you have cheese here?”

  This seemed to amuse Shard even more as he held up a hand. “Stop. Stop it, please! No more.”

  Eliza tutted. It wasn’t that funny, surely? And it did seem strange that monsters would eat cheese. At least to her. As they began walking, she continued to fix her gaze on the st
ars. “I’ve seen your sky before.”

  “You said you hadn’t travelled to the Grimwytch before?”

  “Well, I have. Sort of. I dreamt of it last night.”

  “If you dreamt the Grimwytch, then it must be in your blood.”

  “Maybe,” Eliza said. “It’s definitely in my granddad’s blood. He’s got these special books about this place. I’ve read about the Grimwytch. It seems odd to think that only last night I was reading of a girl who was brought here by those people in the inn. The ones with the yellow faces and greasy hair. The Wrong People.”

  “The Eiderstaark?” Shard asked.

  “That’s them. Anyway, when the girl came, your moon turned her. And she became…disfigured.”

  Shard placed a finger on the pendant around Eliza’s neck. “Your necklace is made of Solaarock. It will stop the moon from turning you.”

  “How do you know so much about my people?” Eliza asked.

  “When I was younger, before I’d go to sleep, my parents would tell tales about humans.”

  Eliza smiled. “That’s funny. We tell stories about monsters.”

  “Do you consider me a monster?”

  Eliza thought about it. “No. Not like some of the ones I’ve read about.”

  “I don’t think we’re much different from you,” Shard said. “While you’ll find monsters in the Grimwytch who are pitiless, selfish, and evil, you’ll also find those who are good and kind. And there are those who are completely indifferent.”

  “It’s like that where I come from,” Eliza said. “People are just the same.”

  As the road cut through the forest, the grave demeanor Shard had worn in the Malady Inn returned once more.

  Eliza looked at the trees. Their trunks were thick like oaks, but their branches were longer and barer, like tendrils reaching out and connecting with one another. “Is it winter here? Or are your trees always bare?”

  “It’s winter. In spring they’ll blossom.”

  “It’s the same where I come from,” Eliza said. “I thought everything would be completely different. But you even use the same words as us. Well, for the most part.”

  Shard tutted. “Why do you assume we use the same words as you?” he asked irritably. “Perhaps you got your language from us. Did that ever occur to you?”

  “I don’t think so!” Eliza said. “Humans have been on Earth for a long time, you know.”

  “And so have we.”

  “On Earth?” Eliza asked.

  “Well, where else do you think we are? What…” Shard stopped in his tracks, holding his hand up. “Shut up!”

  “That’s just plain rude—” Eliza began. Shard clasped a hand over her mouth.

  Something approached in the distance, some sort of vehicle, its headlights on full beam. One of the lights struck Shard, but before the other could find Eliza, he pushed her aside.

  She stumbled off the road and into the trees.

  “Hide!” Shard whispered, throwing out his hands as if to hurry her along. “Quickly!”

  19

  Malumdell

  Eliza ran, struggling through roots and brambles that slyly seemed to wrap themselves around her feet. After the bright shine of the moon, the forest was a wall of black. She wondered what kinds of creatures might be lurking within the trees as she stopped, turning to make sure she could still find the road.

  Shard remained where he was, shielding his eyes with a hand as the light bore down on him.

  Hooves clattered against the path, and a large dark carriage drawn by four horses appeared. It reminded Eliza of a giant beetle. It stopped before Shard and four figures jumped from its roof. They towered over Shard, who was still caught in the beam of the huge lamps mounted to the top of the carriage. Mirrors within the lamps surrounded the gaslights, boosting their glare.

  As the figures stepped into the light, Eliza gasped, for their heads looked like those of monstrously large bees grafted onto human bodies.

  “What are you doing on the road, boy?” boomed a voice from within the carriage.

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” Shard asked. “Aside from trying to walk along this road.”

  “What insolence!” the voice replied. “Take me to him.”

  The four bee-headed figures returned to the carriage, sliding out a stretcher from beneath. They helped a huge woman as she emerged from the carriage and placed her on the stretcher before carrying her to Shard. Her head shone in the moonlight, smooth and bald. As she neared Shard, Eliza noticed a series of six mouths opening above the folds of fat obscuring her neck.

  The woman held her head up, sending her jowls quivering as she sniffed the air. “I can smell drearspawn!” she announced, her voice booming through each mouth, the tone of each just a little different, producing an unsettling, discordant sound. The guards around her tensed, their bee-like heads turning to the forest.

  Eliza’s heart thumped as she stooped towards the ground.

  “I don’t smell drearspawn,” Shard said. “All I smell is the stench of your sweating flesh. You might consider a bath.”

  “Who are you,” the woman demanded, “to talk to me like that? I shall have you flogged. I shall have you cleaved in two. And your remains shall be a feast for my workers. Seize him!”

  Shard pulled his sword from his sheath, reversed it in his hand and held the pommel so it shone in the light. “Tell me,” he sneered, “do you recognize this mark?”

  The woman glanced closer, and all at once, her tiny hands flapped in the air. “My mistake. Take me back to the carriage.” She gave a shrill cry. “At once!” The guards carried her to the carriage, locking its doors as they nervously glanced at Shard before climbing upon the roof.

  Shard smiled as the carriage trundled past, and the moment it disappeared from view, he turned to the trees. “Where are you, Eliza?”

  Eliza called to him and his bright green eyes fixed on her as he threaded his way through the trees. “We’ll have to make our way through the forest to reach the city,” Shard told her. “The road is too dangerous. At least, too dangerous for you.”

  “Do you know the way?” Eliza asked as they weaved through the colossal tree trunks.

  “Yes. I’ve spent countless moons roaming Blackwood. There’s a lot to find in the forest if you know where to look. Beautiful places. And terrible ones, too.”

  “What did that woman mean when she said she smelled ‘drearspawn’?” Eliza asked.

  “She meant she smelled a human. You.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “It’s not a very nice word. Some inhabitants here feel humans are…limited. They call you drearspawn. I don’t.”

  “Good,” Eliza said. She thought back to the story of the Wrong People. How the creatures had laughed at Katherine’s normality, in just the way humans might if a member of the Grimwytch were to be placed in a circus.

  “Don’t let it worry you,” Shard said as they stepped into a large clearing. He gestured towards a tree stump. “Sit a moment.” He began to pace around the edge of the clearing, his head lowered. “My situation has become complicated,” he said. “Before, I knew what I was doing. But then…”

  “But then I came along?”

  “Yes. You saved my life, and for that I am eternally grateful. We both have purposes in the city. Mine is a matter of great urgency, and yet, I cannot attend to it while I have to protect you.”

  Eliza shrugged. “So, take me to the city and then go about your business.”

  “I can’t. We’re bound. I have to protect you. There is simply no other option.”

  “So what is this urgent business?”

  “I cannot tell you,” Shard replied with an uncomfortable look.

  “Why not?”

  “Because…” he looked away. “Because when we part, I don’t want you to think ill of me.”

  Eliza was about to probe further but stopped as she saw his discomfort.

  He looked so sad and angry. Like a boy strugglin
g to grasp a situation out of his control. Far removed from the cold and assured warrior he seemed to want to project.

  Shard met her gaze. “This is a dangerous place. Sooner or later, you’re going to be attacked,” he said. “And once I’ve defended you, I can go on my way. So, the sooner something threatens your life, the better for me. But,” he paused, “I quite like you and your tales of moons made of cheese. And I’d like to hear more about your strange world, so I don’t really want you to be murdered.”

  “That’s very kind of you,” Eliza replied.

  “Indeed,” Shard agreed. And then he gave a slight smile. “So, in order to stop you from being slaughtered, we need to find a way to stop you drawing attention to yourself.”

  “I don’t try to draw attention to myself.”

  “Maybe not. But the reason our people notice you is because you stink.”

  “What?”

  “Of human. Your scent is…not unpleasant. But it invites danger to you.”

  “Which is why you’re here,” Eliza reminded him. “That woman with the guards seemed pretty scared of you. And the monst…people in the inn.”

  “They were only frightened because of my family. Once word travels that they’re dead, they won’t be frightened for much longer.”

  “So, what can I do about my stink, as you put it?”

  Shard laughed. “We can’t really get rid of it, but we might be able to hide it. The only way I can think of is to find a scent powerful enough to mask yours. And you need a change of clothes; those garments you’re wearing look ridiculous. Their reek would give you away to a cobblefoot.”

  “Cobblefoot?” Eliza asked.

  “Tiny, strange things with five legs that wobble all over the place. And they don’t have any noses, which is a good thing for them because they smell like decaying goats.”

  “You have goats here?” Eliza said. “Silly me, of course you do. They were probably invented here. So, where am I supposed to get perfume and a change of clothes? Are there any all-night shops around here? Assuming this is night?”