Eva was taken in by the tune, nearly forgetting all that she had just heard. Her head bobbed back and forth, and a tender grin made its way to her face.
“That’s it, sister!” Edward yelled, grabbing her arm. He danced in front of her, eyes closed, teeth exposed by his upturned lips. “Hi-di-dye-di-dye-di-dye! What better way for a man to die!”
Eva grabbed her brother’s hand as she danced with him. Her legs seemed to have taken over her. She skipped and whirled as wildly as he. Her hair flung itself in the wind. It seemed that the musical clamor that had moments ago interrupted her thinking had now become a tune of joy. “Hi-di-dye-di-dye-di-dye! What better way for a man to die!” She sang as passionately as her brother. The more she danced, the freer she became, and for a short time, she felt as careless as if she were still in Green Planes.
It felt like her mother was still alive and that her father would be coming home for supper. It reminded her of when she and her brother would both be outside, chasing one another in the yard, dreading their mother’s call for dinner and thus ending their game. For that moment even, Edward was still her brother. The Raiders had not found her, and she knew nothing of curses and the Beast and the Haunt. The fear of death had relinquished its hold on her, though only for a moment.
After the festivities had ended, Eva was jerked back into the reality that she had escaped. She found her brother’s tent set near the outskirts of the camp. The torchlight from the center of town barely extended this far out.
Edward’s tent, pitched underneath an oak tree that was just beginning to grow its leaves for the spring, was smaller than the others. She found him sitting on the grassy ground at the entrance flap of his tent.
The night made his smooth face look darker, and the smile had left him, daring never to return. Even the effects of the wine seemed to have been drained from him. All that remained was a still-faced man who sharpened the edge of his blade on a stone he had found in the dirt.
“Edward,” she said, locking her hands in front of her, presenting herself to him as she always did.
“Eve,” he replied, pulling his eyes up from his blade to meet hers.
“You do not seem like yourself.”
“And what might that self seem like, hm? Should I be smiling?” he asked. His voice slanted upwards at the end sarcastically. “Should I be dancing and drinking and telling stories of a time that once was?”
“No, Edward. I just don’t believe that I’ve ever seen you–”
“Crushed?” he interrupted. “Is that what you intend to ask me? You’ve never seen your brother’s heart so bruised?”
Eva stood still, tight, bound in her brother’s ramblings. She was unsure if he meant for her to answer or if he was still lost in the grapevine, allowing the wine to speak for him instead.
Edward picked up the sharpening stone, twisting it to either side. His body jerked and he slung it in Eva’s direction, not seeming to intend to hit her. “My mother and father were slain by the very savages I hunt. The only thing that I have left of the man who raised me is the curse to battle these beasts whose ranks seem to never thin.” He slanted his head, staring at her. “How is it that the Raiders have fought for years, yet their numbers still grow? Hundreds have we killed. Thousands even! I have slain nearly eight dozen myself!”
He was shouting now. Eva did not know why, but she didn’t ask either. She merely flinched at his outbursts, unable to mutter a sensible reply. Did Edward not know? Was he unaware that the Raiders were merely men and women who had once lived?
“Why have you come looking for me, sister? Is it to tell me the Raiders have taken your life too, and that you have come here in the form of a ghost to comfort me?”
Eva did not have the courage to tell him that she might not be his kin, that their lives had been a lie. He would need to know, but just not now. “I am to go to the Black Lands. That is why I came to you. I had hoped to say a courteous goodbye.”
“Pft! The Black Lands? Then it is true. My sister intends to warn me that she is walking to her death, searching for a mystical place that only fools and idiots hope to find. Go on then.” He fanned her away, lazily swinging his hand at her. “Do what you must. It is in fact your life,” he said, shaking his head, groggy eyes focusing on her.
“Ed, I might not return,” she replied, expecting him to comfort her. She had hoped that his abridged name would jerk him out of his wine.
Edward tossed his unsheathed spadroon into his tent and flopped with his hands under his head. His legs still hung outside the tent, though the top of his body did not. “Have at it, sister. One less worry makes a man’s heart the merrier,” he replied, words stretched out by an apathetic yawn.
The warm spring night felt cooler but not from the temperature. Eva’s sleek could not protect her from the chill of a cold heart. In moments her brother had fallen asleep. She could hear his heavy breaths panting in the tent.
He had done it again. He had nonchalantly cast away her seriousness with his blank expression. She wanted to wake him, to scream at him, to attack him with the rage of her words. Yet she watched him, his listless breathing unbroken.
Maybe he was not her brother. They shared nothing in common, not his smile, his looks, his grin, or his wit. But least of all…his heart of stone. Shaking her head, she left to find her tent, hoping that she would not have to speak with Edward again before she left.
On her way back to her tent, the crowd had eased away. Only a few stragglers remained. Some sat on logs, shivering with a blanket over their shoulders, even though the night was not a cool one. Others sorted through the few items they had taken with them from Winter Hills.
Eva noticed that none of them wore the face of worry. They seemed satisfied, hopeful. If the gods ever smiled, she thought, surely they are smiling now.
She stood next to the fire, arms folded over her chest with the night breeze pushing her hair in whatever direction it pleased. She stood in the presence of woodcutters and artisans and trackers and knitters and soldiers. None of these skills had she learned from her mother like most young girls her age. Maria had not taken the time to teach her. Instead, Eva was left with house chores and cooking, neither of which did she excel in.
She felt inadequate, but she still stood, arms crossed and furious with her brother who seemed to have loathed her once the wine took away the muzzle over his heart.
An older man sat next to Eva on a log, though she was still standing. His gray hair was oily with thick clumps tossed over the others as if he had not combed his hair since he was a youth. Contrary to his sticky hair and his dried scalp, his teeth were mostly intact.
“The Girl with the Scar has been found,” he said. He was a slender man, but his voice was low and smooth, unaffected by his age.
Her secret was out. Everyone knew, and if they didn’t, they would. She could almost feel the wound on the back of her neck as he spoke to her. “It seems she has,” Eva replied, not sure what to say in response.
The man lifted a thin wrinkled finger to her without taking his eyes off the flame. “It took a strong liver to run out there to the Raiders. You spared hundreds of lives, you did.”
Eva uncrossed her arms and thumbed the palm of her other hand. “But just as many and much more have suffered on account of me.”
He slid over a tad, patting the log for Eva to be seated. “The past is as cloudy as the future, but worse,” he said. He looked at her, and despite his scraggly hair, his face was smooth with only a few wrinkles.
“Why worse?” Eva asked, sitting next to him with her hands between her knees.
“You can only be afraid of the future. But it is the past tries to define you.” He looked her over, fixing the blanket about his shoulders until he found what he would say to her next. “Do not let it define you. For you still have the power to make your own mark.” He hunched over forward and chuckled a bit muttering to himself, “The World with the Scar.”
Eva grinned. “That seems a bit lofty, don’t yo
u think?”
The man pushed his lips together, waving her off. “Of course not. The people have not had someone to believe in since White Wolf.”
“Don’t the people believe that he killed all those innocents?”
The man nodded, rubbing his hands together to warm them, even though the night was rather warm. “Deep down, we all know that the rumors of the killings were created by the Raiders. We just don’t like to admit it. Because if we do, then we have to believe that the Raiders can be defeated. But to think this means that we have to be the ones to fight, and the gods know that’s not going to happen.”
“Madam Genie,” Jahn said, interrupting the conversation. He scurried over to her, hands out in front of him so that his cloak would not drape past his wrists. “We must leave now. I have gotten word that the Raiders are moving towards the Black Lands.”
Eva stood slowly, mouth open. “What business do they have there?” she asked, fearing the answer.
Jahn tapped the side of his cheek. “I would not doubt that they have heard your intentions, though how, I am unsure.”
“Then we must go,” she said. “I cannot live with this Beast inside me for another day.”
“Let us not tarry for a moment longer,” Jahn replied.
Eva rushed to her tent to grab her supplies, kneeling. The rocky soil pressed into her knees as she fumbled through her things. She grabbed her round-hilted dirk and slipped it into her belt, then she set the Essence on her hip.
In a flurry, she stuffed a few chunks of stale bread into her bag that Stasis had given her, and she found a few pecans from Wolf. Her hand reached up and touched her eagle pendant. She ceased her toil as she flipped the pendant between her two fingers.
Her mind flashed back to how the Beast had come to life without mixing with another person’s blood as Jahn had mentioned to her earlier. She wondered if there was something more to the pendant than she had once realized, more than just king’s copper sized medallion that hung from her necklace.
She let the pendant lie against her chest again, patting it with the palm of her hand. Hurriedly, she closed her bag and rushed to Jahn’s tent in the center of the camp where Stasis and Wolf waited for her.
Wolf was in the corner, positioning his axes on his belt. “Our informant from inside the Raiders has alerted us that they are on a rampage.”
Informant? That must have been Ian. “What did the informant say?” Eva asked.
Stasis hooked her belt together, shaking her head. “I didn’t know there was an informant.”
“He’s been on the inside for years,” Wolf replied. “Only a few of us know, as would be expected.”
Stasis adjusted her belt and positioned her Essences in place, rolling her head up to meet eyes with Wolf. “You can’t keep me out like this.”
“I did not think it was something that I needed to say,” Wolf replied
Stasis grinned, though the smile seemed forced. Eva could tell that she had conceded, but she was still not pleased.
“How long does it take to get to the Black Lands?” Eva asked.
Jahn frowned and looked up and to the side. “A few weeks maybe, but that is not what concerns me.” His tone sank slowly. “The Raiders are no longer sparing cities. Each one has been leveled, leaving no survivors.”
Eva shook her head. “I won’t flee while more people are being killed because of me.”
“Madam Genie, you cannot give into the immediate consequences. Remember that the king intends to use you to enslave our neighboring kingdoms.” Jahn’s gaze fell to the dusty ground inside the tent. “A tyrant that powerful could never be stopped.”
Wolf walked over to Eva and rested his heavy hand on her shoulder. “The informant had more news.” His face was as grim as death. “Because of your last escape, they no longer care if you are alive or dead. King’s orders.”
Without thinking, Eva snapped her gaze up at him. “But it’s my blood they need.”
“And it is your blood that they intend to take,” Wolf replied. “The king wanted you alive because he knew that he could let your blood for decades to come if you were alive. Since you escaped, it seems that he has decided that he would rather have your blood for a few years than for none at all.”
“Then he would preserve your blood with the Essence,” Stasis interjected.
Suddenly the fear of death had returned, almost breathing down the nape of her neck, hot on her scar. The Dark Queen had wanted to kill Eva in Green Planes, not intending to let the king know that Eva had been found. But the king had found out, and he had wanted her alive. Now he had demanded that she be killed? Eva shook her head, battling the dread within her, losing. “How will the Black Lands be any safer?”
“If the Raiders don’t intercept of us first,” Stasis said, “then we can get you to the Black Lands and remove the curse.”
“Won’t that enrage the king even more?”
“I don’t see why that is a problem,” Stasis replied. “He’s always enraged. At least if he were to capture you…” her words ended abruptly. “Let’s just remember that we cannot turn you over to him.”
Eva could feel the threat of the Raiders as thickly as she had for all the years past, fearing that any day they would come for her. She massaged her sweaty hands, not knowing if she would ever make it to the Black Lands. Pondering her death, she could almost feel the cold steel of a Raider’s falchion cutting in to her neck.
“The road to the Black Lands is not a safe one,” Wolf said. “There are beasts on this path that no nightmare could dream of.”
“What type of beasts?” Eva asked, swallowing hard.
Wolf fixed the pelt around his arms and started outside. “Let us hope that they do not find us.”
Jahn dipped his head out the front of the tent, speaking over his should as he rushed away. “The Strikers are set to meet the Raiders near the Black Lands, but we must hurry. Perhaps we could make it to the lands before the Raiders of arrive.”
Eva fidgeted with the tips of her fingers. Perhaps we cannot.
CHAPTER 21
THE FIRE
Eva scurried out of the camp, trailing Jahn and Stasis and Wolf. Once again she was leaving Edward behind, not sure if he even wanted to see her. She had never seen the calloused side of her brother before, but it was blistered, rough, and harsh.
Still, she had to follow Jahn. She had to make it to the Black Lands, if she wanted to be safe. She wanted to live boldly, but how could she if she was escaping? Do the bold ever flee?
The night air was filled with a thick humidity, but the quietness of the nocturnal creatures seemed to be an early harbinger that morning would come soon. Eva’s body was weak, drained, and fatigued. Each step anchored her boots, but she kept her pace.
They slept in the day and traveled at night, not wanting to be seen as they rushed to their destination. The mountainous peaks of Winter Hills jutted out of the horizon, though the stony ground had been replaced with grass-coated rolling hills that at times seemed impossible to traverse.
Trees had begun to grow their leaves again, clogging the crevices between the trees that had revealed the distant skyline through the winter. Now the distance was interrupted with budding leaves and chirping birds that soared across the road as they traveled through the forest beyond the refugee camp.
Even at night, the heat of the spring did not recede for the journey. Instead, thick layers of pollen rode the wind, tossed about by the gusts, and the humidity was unbearable.
Climbing the hills in the darkness that was interrupted by a pale half-moon, Eva leaned forward, slinging her arms as she drove her heels into the soft dirt. The sleek felt more restrictive, and she adjusted her collar, sticking her finger inside and twisting it about her neck. Perhaps she needed to cover it with more Essence, but having a limited supply, she did not want to waste it.
Stasis had seemed perturbed throughout the journey, and Eva did not dare ask her why. Something about her was different. She seemed more determin
ed. Her generosity had not changed, but there was something in her smile that felt unfinished, as if she were afraid or bothered or disappointed. Perhaps even all of those, but Eva was unsure.
Exhausted, Eva had to say something. She had been holding onto her words long enough. It was time to let them go or her body might collapse. “I need to rest,” she said.
“We cannot,” Wolf replied, striding uphill with both axes in hand. “We can rest at dawn.”
Dawn was as far away as the stars to Eva. Night had only been around for a few hours. “If I continue on at this rate, I might never make it to the Black Lands.” She breathed heavily, using her arms to bound up the hill.
“We have to continue on,” Stasis replied, echoing Wolf.
Eva’s heels slid over the tops of stones, throwing her off balance. “I can’t….” She dropped to her hands and knees, feeling her muscles straining. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and her limbs felt numb. In a moment, the seizure ebbed away without harming her but warning her that her body had been overexerted.
Wolf ran to her side and squatted before her, his knees not touching the ground. With his thick fingers, he lifted her chin, then he looked at the others. “She cannot go on any further for now. We will set up camp at the peak of this hill and rest.”
“We must keep going,” Stasis replied. Her voice was high.
“What good would it be to make it to the Black Lands with Genevieve at her worst? We cannot hope to carry her once we reach the lands.”
Stasis slammed her hands on her hips, blowing a few strands of hair out of her eyes with a huff. “You’re right.” She turned to either side. Distant howls of coyotes sang into the night. “I just fear that stopping could have us killed.”
“If we rest now,” Jahn replied, “then perhaps we can travel farther tomorrow.”
Wolf grabbed Eva under her shoulder. She could barely pick herself up. Just the few moments on her knees had signaled to her body that she was more fatigued than she first thought.
The Girl with the Scar (Dark Connection Saga Book 1) Page 21