The Allseer Trilogy

by Kaitlyn Rouhier

  The sight of the bodies and the smell wafting towards her made her gag and she quickly turned away, using a tree to steady herself while she heaved into the grass. She could feel the corpses at her back, their ghosts pleading for mercy.

  Whether they were criminals or something else, Kirheen could not say. She wanted to run back to Garild, to keep moving until they found another village, but they were out of options. If they didn’t restock their supplies and find a healer, they wouldn’t make it much further. Kirheen gave the corpses a wide berth as she passed, but she could feel their lifeless eyes follow her, accusing her of crimes she had not committed.

  She slipped between two buildings and stumbled out onto a street alive with activity. Giant wooden carts, pulled by large muscular beasts, rolled up and down the wide road, laden with various supplies. People wandered the street in strange clothing she’d never seen before, many holding baskets as they wandered in and out of the buildings lining the road. A woman bustled by with a basket of fresh bread, and Kirheen stared intently at the warm loaves, resisting the urge to chase down the woman and steal her belongings. Her mouth watered and her stomach twisted painfully but she shoved her needs aside, intent on finding help for Garild.

  Nobody paid any attention to her as they passed. They scurried by without a glance, and the few that did look her way sneered as if she were a rodent. Looking down at herself, she could see why. Her robes were torn, bloodied, and streaked with dirt. She imagined the rest of her didn’t look much better and she found herself longing for a long soak in the hot springs.

  She glanced up and down the street, trying to find anything that looked familiar or promising. There was a two story wooden house just a few doors down with a white sign and green foliage, and something about it reminded her of Trista. Feeling a wave of elation, she darted into the street and right into the path of a cart. She reeled backwards out of the way of the clomping beast pulling the cart and ran into a man that shoved her roughly aside, spitting curses over his shoulder as he moved on. She caught the rails of a set of stairs and steadied herself, glaring after the man that had pushed her.

  Nobody around stopped to ask if she was okay, if she needed directions, or help. She was simply ignored, a speck of dirt that was very, very out of place. Hurrying along, and being far more careful of her footing, she made her way to the house with the white and green sign and stepped inside. The front room was dark and cramped, but blissfully quiet. The walls were of a dark wood and the floors were covered in faded rugs of gold and red. A set of stairs sat to her right and the left hand wall was covered in rows of shelves lined with glass bottles of various sizes.

  There was a large wooden desk in front of her, and behind it stood a tall man, dressed as oddly as the people outside. He had a thick head of gray hair and a moustache hovering over lips that were pulled down in a dissatisfied frown. His bright blue eyes watched her closely and he cleared his throat before asking, “Is there something I can help you with?”

  “Yes,” Kirheen said, her voice cracking. She realized just then how strange it felt to be talking to someone other than Garild. It made her nervous, and as hard as she tried to steady her voice, it faltered. She sounded weak and pitiful, but she spilled the words out anyways. “I have a friend that is hurt. He was bit by something while we were traveling. I think it was a snake of some sort and I’m looking to get him help.”

  The man raised a hand and shook his head. “Look, I don’t mean to cut your tale of woe short but let me be clear. I do not work for free,” he sneered, looking over her torn robes. “If you don’t have the money to pay for my services, then I’ll ask that you kindly take your leave.”

  Money. The word was foreign to her. He was asking for something in exchange for his help, but she’d never heard the word and had no idea what it was he wanted. “Money,” she said hesitantly. “I’m sorry. What is that?”

  The man clucked his tongue against his teeth in disapproval. “I’d laugh if I hadn’t heard it before. Just because you’ve never seen a copper piece in your life doesn’t mean you get to come in here and demand my services for free. Now, if you’ll follow me, I’ll escort you out.” He moved past her, swung the door open, and swept his hand towards the street. “That’s it, girl. Get out of here.” His blue eyes bore into her and she could see from the set of his jaw that he was in no mood to argue.

  The second she’d set foot out the door, the man slammed it shut with enough force to rattle her teeth. She glanced back over her shoulder and fixed the man with a glare before moving back onto the street. She was so distraught over how he’d treated her that she almost got herself run over by another cart. One of the beasts whinnied, breaking her out of her thoughts, and she dove out of the way just in time to avoid being crushed. The driver turned in his seat and spit in her direction, the bubble of saliva landing at her feet. She looked down at it with disgust and thought that the cave hadn’t been so bad after all.

  Leaving Garild behind had been the best decision she’d made yet. There wasn’t a friendly face in the village and the only person that could have helped had slammed the door in her face. As she went to take a step forward, a hand latched onto her right shoulder, strong fingers digging painfully into the hollow above her collar bone. Lips moved next to her ear, the masculine voice low and gritty. “You want to keep living, girl? For the love of Riel, stop using your powers.”

  Kirheen wrestled out of the man’s grip and whipped around to face him. He was tall and thin, and though she’d never seen him before, there was something familiar about his face. He had bright blue eyes half hidden beneath wild gray brows, a hawkish nose, and a bushy beard that helped balance out his thin face. He had a crown of gray hair left on his otherwise bald head, and he stared at her in disbelief, managing to convey both pity and rage in his gaze.

  “Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he hissed under his breath, leaning in close.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she retorted, glaring up at him.

  “Guard your damned mind, girl. And be quick about it.”

  Kirheen realized she’d been using her powers to keep herself linked to Garild. She’d been afraid of getting lost, so she’d latched on to his mind before she’d left. She dropped the connection between them and strengthened her guard.

  The man scoffed. “That’ll have to do for now. Come on. Follow me.”

  He turned on his heels and began walking away, pulling one of the muscular beasts by a leather strap, and Kirheen leapt after him, her fingers digging into his shirt. She yanked sharply, bringing him to a halt, and he turned towards her angrily. “I can’t go with you,” she said quickly. “I don’t even know who you are and I’m not alone.”

  The man glanced around nervously and smiled to a young woman as she strode by. When she was out of earshot, he leaned in close and grabbed Kirheen by the shoulder. “You listen to me, I will explain everything until I am blue in the face, but not here. We keep arguing in the streets like this and we’ll both end up dead. Do you understand?”

  The man was trying to help her, or at least she thought he was. It was the closest thing she’d found to a friendly face, and she didn’t want to let the opportunity slip by, but she couldn’t leave Garild out in the woods as sick as he was. “Look, I appreciate you trying to help me, but I’m not here alone. My friend is out in the woods and he’s very ill. I came here to find some way to help him, and I’m not just going to leave him out there alone.”

  “Two of you?” the man asked, his brow arching. He was quiet for a moment as he mulled over her words. “Can you get him here? Is he well enough for that?”

  “I think so.”

  “Then go and fetch your friend. I’ll wait for you over there,” he said, pointing down the road. “Don’t use your powers, and don’t talk to anyone else, do you understand?”

  “Yes,” she said, and he released his grip on her shoulder. She rubbed at the spot where his fingers had dug in deep and gave him an annoyed glare.
“I’ll meet up with you as soon as I can,” she said. He nodded and turned away, pulling the strange beast down the road after him, its long body laden with packs.

  Kirheen tried to look casual as she walked in the opposite direction, but once she reached the edge of the village, she broke into a sprint. She found Garild at the edge of the water right where she’d left him. At the sound of her footsteps, he glanced up in alarm. “Kirheen? What are you doing back already? Did you not find anything?”

  “I found a village full of rude people that didn’t seem very interested in helping. I was almost run over several times by strange beasts that I’ve never seen before, and the healer I spoke to slammed the door in my face. It’s a lovely place,” she said sarcastically.

  “No food?” he asked weakly, eyes lingering on her hands. Finding them empty he frowned. “Was there anything that can help us at all?”

  “There might be. A man in town stopped me because he could feel my powers. He was odd and a little gruff, but he seemed really interested in us and offered to help. He’s waiting for us just outside of town.”

  Garild slowly got to his feet, swaying as he straightened his back. “And you trust him?”

  Kirheen sighed. “I do. I don’t know why, but I feel like he’ll actually help. He was really concerned about me using my powers though. Until we’re away from the village, it might be wise if we just didn’t use them at all.”

  She thought of the three bodies hung in a row, the terrible things that had been done to them, and wondered if it was because they’d been like her. It wasn’t hard to imagine that outside of Sanctuary, they were the outcasts. Akra had warned them, but she hadn’t thought to take her so seriously.

  They hastily gathered up their packs and Kirheen led Garild to the village, giving a wide berth to the corpses she’d found. She didn’t want him to see something so terrible and she didn’t need him to worry unnecessarily. As long as they kept their heads down and stayed out of people’s way, they wouldn’t have anything to worry about.

  “This isn’t what I was expecting,” Garild whispered, staring in awe at the busy street. “Everything is…different.”

  “Just think how different we must look to them,” she grumbled, resisting the urge to glare at every man, woman, and beast that wandered by. She looked further down the road and spotted the large pack laden creature the man had been leading, it’s white and brown patches making it easy to find through the crowds. She tugged on Garild’s sleeve and they wove through the busy street, dodging people and carts alike.

  Seeing her approaching, the man motioned her over. “Good, you’re both here.” He took a quick look over Garild, his gaze hovering on his bandaged hand. “We don’t want to linger here long. Let’s get out of town. If we get stopped along the way, just say you’re my niece and nephew, got it? You look nothing alike, but it’ll have to do.”

  “Niece and nephew?” Garild asked. “I don’t know what that means.”

  The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He pointed at Garild. “Nephew.” He pointed to Kirheen. “Niece. That’s all you need to know for now.”

  “If it’ll help us, we’ll say whatever we have to,” Kirheen said, feeling just as confused as Garild.

  “Good. I promise I’ll explain everything once we’re in a safer place. Name is Therin, by the way.”

  “I’m Kirheen and my friend here is Garild. I’m glad you fou-”

  Her words were cut short by a scream and she looked back towards town. Just a few doors down, a young girl was being hauled out of a building by two men. She screamed, her legs flailing wildly as she tried to break free. She was thrown down into the dirt while the two men circled like vultures. The commotion was already drawing a crowd, curiosity pulling them in like moths to a flame.

  “This little bitch is one of them cursed ones,” one of the men sneered. He was tall and wiry, with thinning brown hair and blue eyes glowing with malice. The other man was bent down, his hand gripping the back of the girl’s neck, keeping her pinned to the dirt. She was still struggling, growling and screaming and gnashing her teeth, but Kirheen could see the fear in her eyes, in the tears that left tracks down her dirt covered cheeks.

  “Sharon,” yelled an older heavy set man with thick gray hair and a well kept beard. He pushed his way through the gathering crowd, shoving people aside as he frantically made his way towards the girl. He was grabbed by two other men that had been standing in the crowd and they managed to restrain him while the wiry man with the hate filled eyes approached. He pulled back his arm and curled his fingers into a fist, then drove it into the older man’s stomach. The sound of the air leaving his lungs made Kirheen wince. The old man slumped to his knees, wheezing as he tried to recover his breath. “Clive,” he huffed, looking up at the man that had punched him. “You’ve got it wrong. She isn’t one of them. You leave her alone. Just leave my girl alone!”

  “She ain’t one of them,” Clive said mockingly. “You know how many times we’ve heard that? You think she’s normal, that she ain’t harboring that cursed power like the sorry lot hanging outside, but you know better than that. You know. And I say that makes you no better than her.” The man stalked around the edge of the crowd, whipping them into a frenzy. He drew a dagger from his belt and held it up high, twisting it back and forth so it caught the light. “Only one good way to find out.”

  Kirheen took a step forward, her hands balled into fists at her side, but a strong hand clamped down on her shoulder and stopped her in her tracks. “We can’t get involved in this, girl. You take another step and we’re all as good as dead. We need to move.”

  But she couldn’t move, couldn’t tear her eyes away from what she was seeing, just as she’d been unable to look away from the mutilated bodies swaying in the breeze. She was watching death creep around the edges of the crowd and she couldn’t turn away. The girl, catching sight of the dagger, began to scream and kick, pleading for them not to hurt her father.

  Clive laughed, white teeth flashing. He lurched forward and drove the dagger up to the hilt into the man’s stomach. The girl fell silent and Kirheen felt the familiar feeling of gathered energy tickle her senses. There was a strange ripple in the air around the girl, and then the man holding her was thrown up into the air and back into the crowd, pushed away by a blast of uncontrolled power. “You see,” Clive barked, jabbing his bloodied fingers towards the girl. “That girl is a monster. She is cursed, people. Her power is a mockery of Zekar, and we will not tolerate it. Not here, not in our town.”

  The girl was huddled in the dirt and sobbing into her hands. The crowd was growing agitated, circling closer and closer. They screamed and cheered, and a man in the crowd spit on the girl, earning him a few approving slaps on the back.

  “Do you know what we do to those that worship the Allseer?”

  “Kill them,” several people shouted, and the rest of the crowd cheered loudly, whooping and hollering with fervent glee. Kirheen was trembling with fear, with anger. She didn’t want to believe they’d actually kill the poor girl, but Kirheen had seen the bodies outside of town, had seen the way they’d been mutilated and tortured. She knew the truth and there wasn’t a thing she could do to stop what was going to happen, not unless she wanted to join her. Garild gripped her arm tightly, and she could feel him shaking through his grasp.

  “That’s right, friends,” Clive said cheerfully. “Those that go against our savior Zekar deserve death.” A long heavy piece of wood was passed through the crowd and handed to Clive. He gripped it in both hands, testing its weight as he made a mock swing. The girl recoiled, shuffling to the edge of the crowd, but she was kicked in the back and sent sprawling into the circle. She came to rest at Clive’s feet, and he raised the club high over his head and brought it down on the girl with a loud crack.

  The crowd cheered wildly, drowning out the girl’s cries. He continued to strike over, and over, and over again, smiling like a crazed animal. After several minutes, he finally stopped and
hoisted the bloodied club over his head. He laughed loudly, and the crowd joined him. Bending down, he grabbed the girl by the ankle and began to drag her bloodied and broken body through the village, the other villagers following after him with smiles on their faces.

  What she saw as they dragged her away made Kirheen dry heave into the nearby bushes. Even with her eyes squeezed shut, she could still see Clive, the bloodied club dripping with gore, his white teeth shining through a mask of red.

  Therin was gentle as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and turned her away from the carnage. “This is why,” he whispered. “This is why they cannot know about you. They can never know.”

  CHAPTER 30

  They left the village in silence, listening to the clip-clop of hooves as they followed Therin down the road. A war between hunger and disgust was being waged in Kirheen’s belly, and more than once she caught herself staring at a loaf of bread peeking out from one of the packs, the golden crust making her mouth water.

  Therin caught her staring as he glanced over his shoulder, following the line of her gaze to the half open pack and the bread within. He slowed his beast to a stop and sighed. “When is the last time you had anything of substance?”

  Kirheen shrugged. “I…honestly don’t know. A few days at least.”

  “I see.” He flipped open the wide leather pouch hanging from the side of the strange creature and grabbed the golden bread. She could smell the warm yeasty scent of it as he brought it close and her stomach gurgled loudly, aching at the mere thought of food. With a tug, Therin ripped the loaf of bread in two, handing a half to Kirheen and the other half to Garild. “Eat slowly,” he said pointedly. “You eat that too fast and you’ll make yourselves sick. Just take it easy.”