Among the Dead and Dying

by A.R. Wise

  * * *

  “What did they do to deserve this?” asked Saffi as she looked out at the prisoner’s wagon. The violence she’d been forced to witness had sickened her. The Northland Marauders had proved themselves to be heartless beasts, loyal to nothing but hatred and greed. She despised them, and wanted nothing more than to see them face retribution for their sins.

  The marauders had led the caravan out to the crossroads, and then instead of heading off towards civilization they were led further north, towards the ruins of the old world. Sailor’s Rock was located in this direction, situated near where the Ulean Bay fed the Tennerblane, but their path veered to the east. The marauders were taking them out into the Steel Plains to camp for a few days. It would be a long journey, past the carcass of a decimated age of man, where steel spires had once stood, now mere lumps of metal nearly buried by mounds of dirt. Where once fabled machines drove along cement roads, now existed only shattered remnants of what had been. That was where the curse of the dead held the strongest power, at least according to The Order. It was forbidden to tread there, but they were headed straight for it.

  “Don’t worry about them,” said Ward. “Worry about yourself.” They were atop their wagon, with Stephen leading them, but the mule was growing weary as they trudged along. The sun had dipped beneath the horizon, leaving a red glow in its wake that painted the clouds with its luster. There was no day left on the opposite side of the world, and night was quickly advancing.

  They passed beside a marshy area, even having to change their route as the wagon wheels began to sink in the wet earth. The rocky area of the Robber’s Spine was behind them now, but there were still outcroppings of rocks here as well, dotted with caves that Saffi watched for any sign of eyes peering out from the darkness.

  Ward muttered as if an afterthought, “Worry about yourself, Saffi. It’s the only way you can make it out in this part of The Masses.”

  “I thought you always used to say that you could tell a man’s character by how he treated others,” said Saffi, turning her father’s own tutelage against him.

  “We’re survivors now. The only thing a survivor thinks about is surviving. Understood?”

  “No,” said Saffi, endearingly defiant as she grinned at her dad. “Sorry, but I don’t agree. I’m not going to stop worrying about other people just because my own life’s in danger.”

  “You should,” said Ward. “We don’t have the luxury of hiding behind the wall anymore. This is a different world, darling. A harsher one. No one out here cares about social order or justice. All they care about is their next meal. We’re not in a good situation at the moment. I don’t want to sugarcoat it for you.”

  Saffi looked backward, in the direction of the crossroads. “The stranger never came. He was supposed to meet us at the crossroads.”

  “Get used to being disappointed,” said Ward. “If there’s one tough lesson you need to learn right now, it’s that you can’t count on anyone but yourself.”

  “I can’t even count on you?” asked Saffi in an attempt to lighten her father’s dour mood.

  “No,” he said plainly. “Don’t count on me. I had one job, and I screwed it up.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Nothing,” he said, trying to avoid the conversation now.

  “No, what do you mean. Talk to me. You still need to tell me what’s going on here. I’ve been quiet this whole time, but you said you’d tell me what was going on after we got to the crossroads, and as far as I can tell we’re already a long way past that.”

  “Things didn’t go like I’d hoped.”

  “No kidding,” said Saffi, again trying to make light of their ordeal. Ward looked away as if ashamed. “Dad, what’s the matter?” She was suddenly serious, struck by her father’s dejected spirit.

  Ward turned to her and smiled, but his eyes revealed a deeper sorrow. “I let myself get fat and happy. That’s all. I messed up.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He bit his lip, and then took a deep breath as if fighting the desire to cry. “I love you, kid. The way things started, I was just supposed to keep you safe. Right? That’s the way it was supposed to be. I’d take you on as an apprentice, but in the meantime I was going to make sure no one ever came looking for you. You were our treasure. You’re my treasure.”

  “Dad, what’s going on?” asked Saffi, disturbed by the direction the conversation was going.

  “I love you, kid. Despite everything else that’s going to happen, I want you to know that I really, deeply love you. You’re my daughter, blood or not.”

  “I know that.”

  “But there are things I haven’t told you; important things. Things that are going to change your life forever, and now I’m not sure it was the right decision.”

  “What sort of things.”

  Ward reached over to his daughter and placed his massive hand on her shoulder. He squeezed, massaging her as he smiled. “You’re more important than anyone, Saffi. And I don’t mean just to me.”

  “You’re scaring me, Dad,” said Saffi, again trying to offer a chuckle to ease the mounting tension. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know everything, kid. I wish I did, but they kept me in the dark, and then they just stopped talking to me all together. That guy who came by the other night, I think he was with the Drakes in Golden Rock. They sent you to New Carrington because you were…” He paused, and took a deep breath. “You were special.”

  “Special?”

  “There’s a woman in Golden Rock named Adelaide Kessel. She’s the one who knows what happened. I was hoping to take you there to meet her. Now…” He shook his head. “Now I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

  “Who’s Adelaide Kessel?” asked Saffi. She had a slew of questions but tried to focus in on just a few. “What happened? Why am I special?”

  “Adelaide’s related to the man who found you.” Ward snapped Stephen’s reins, and the mule neighed in protest.

  “Found me where?”

  “In the field of battle, surrounded by the living dead, screaming and crying like the temperamental kid you’ve always been.” Ward offered a smile at the memory, but his eyes were ringed with tears. “But those monsters ignored you. They walked on past like you weren’t even there. Mind you, I’ve seen those creatures devour their fair share of babes, but not you. They passed you by like you were one of them. That’s what Adelaide’s son thought. He figured you were a half-dead, or a zombie yourself, and he nearly stuck a sword in your belly, but then he had a closer look and saw that you were in that cradle, naked and unharmed. A perfect baby girl. They tested to see if you were a half-dead, but you were just a regular baby. Back then they had a poison they’d use on half-deads. It reacted differently to them, but the Drakes kept the poison’s recipe a secret.”

  Saffi listened intently, unwilling to interrupt the story.

  “Markum Kessel took you back to the capital, and they debated what to do with you. They brought in all the prophets and seers, but I don’t know what they said. All I know is that you ended up in New Carrington. You were put in the orphanage as a way to hide, and then they asked my father to protect you. Since I’d been demoted, he thought it would be a good job for me. I took you on as an apprentice. It was meant to be a way to hide you, and for the first few years we used to get visits from the Prophets of Golden Rock, to check up on you. Then, we all got lazy. The Prophets stopped coming, and I started eating more cakes than a Sword should.” He rubbed his belly and offered a weak smile. “I got fat and comfortable.”

  “Who am I?” asked Saffi, frightened and sobered by her father’s admission.

  “I don’t know. That’s what I was hoping Adelaide could tell us. As far as I know, you’re a little kid that the zombies didn’t want to eat, but the folks in Golden Rock think you’re more important than that, and so does The Scholar. Whoever it was that showed up last night was warning us to get out of the city because T
he Scholar was looking for you.”

  “I always hoped he was just a legend.”

  “He’s no legend, kid. He’s very real. Whoever he is, he’s been looking for you for years now.”

  “Why?”

  “I wish I knew,” said Ward. “I truly do.” He again reached out to her, setting his hand gently against her cheek. “You’re the most important thing in the world to me, and not just because other folks think you’re special. What started as an assignment turned into my only reason for living. You’re all that matters to me, kid.”

  “Dad,” said Saffi, displaying an equal amount of sympathy, appreciation, and mounting terror. “You’re scaring me.”

  “Good,” said Ward.