by Terina Adams
He looked up at me, only partially raising his head so his forehead creased. “You don’t want to hear my tale. It will frighten little girls like you,” he said in a deep voice before he collapsed his head down once more.
“How does a wraith kill another?”
He snorted a laugh. “The human would want to know.” He straightened and his abdominal muscles smoothed.
It felt wrong to be staring at a male that wasn’t mine like I was, noting every perfection that made him beyond human. He was my enemy. That, I needed to remember.
“It takes great power and a lot of hate. I was wronged by many I thought were friends and this is my reward for trust.”
“Hate is one thing I do know about. Perhaps it is universal on both sides, yours and mine. But how is it you are here? I thought you were stuck on the other side of the veil until Hallow’s Eve.”
“Is this friendly chatter a ploy so I don’t kill you?” his dark voice returned.
“A little thanks for saving your life would be appreciated. Besides, you seem to forget you can’t touch me.”
“I don’t need to touch you to hurt you.”
I swallowed, but my throat had dried.
He continued without looking at me, “I was expelled. Only a united horde has that power. But enough banded against me to send me here. I am bound to the dead forest now without any way of returning across the veiled realm until Hallow’s Eve.”
“This is not a good home, but it sounds to me like your home wasn’t either.”
“I have my reasons for wanting to be back in my realm that have nothing to do with the dead forest.”
“Family?”
He slowly lifted his head to me, his black eyes penetrating me with something close to disdain.
“A lover, perhaps?”
“What makes you think we can be friends?”
“I’m lost. I was hoping you would show me the way out of here since I gave you the one thing that would save me.”
He remained motionless, but his eyes pried me apart. “I do not understand you.”
“I understand you even less. So what do you say? Can you point me in the right direction?”
“I am your enemy. Why did you sacrifice your own safety to save me?”
“I don’t understand why it’s so important for you to know.”
“I do not understand human emotions. These words you say, love, honor. They have no meaning for a wraith.”
“But you have hatred, trust and friendship. You said so yourself. You have to be capable of feeling everything else.”
He had this way of staring at me that made me feel naked and vulnerable, like he would scrape back my outer husk and delve into that secret place where I kept myself. Most of the time, I wanted to look away, but there was something in his eyes that held my gaze in place, locked with him.
When he didn’t respond, I said, “Do wraiths have a name?”
“Raclin.”
“Well, Raclin, I want to know if you will help me escape this place.”
Raclin reclined on his bed with his torso propped up behind him on the hard stone headrest. He bent one leg, rested his elbow on his knee and ran his thumb over his bottom lip as he eyed me. “You’re a terrible sight.”
“That is your answer?”
“I will help you. But not before you help me.”
“I’ve helped you already. I saved your life. In the human world, that means you are indebted to me.”
“Strange customs. Has that something to do with honor?”
I sighed and looked away. Losing patience, I snapped, “What is it you want me to do?” I had to remember no matter how indebted I believed him to be, I was trapped here unless he was willing to help. Either that or I walked around aimlessly until the poison killed me.
“I would like you to entertain me until I feel strong again.”
“How long will that take?”
“You were so willing to entertain me as I lay dying.”
“You’re not dying now, so my compassion has dried up.”
He looked ahead at nothing as he nodded his head, like he’d heard something he needed to ponder. “Compassion, another favorable trait, I gather.”
“And how am I supposed to entertain you?”
“I want you to tell me about the human world.”
“You wander amongst us on Hallow’s Eve. Don’t you know enough?”
“A wraith is stuck on the outside always looking in. I am curious to know what it’s like to live in the human world as a human.”
“But you hate humans. Why would you bother to know them?”
Again he played with his lower lip as he watched me. “I am curious as to what makes you think your life is so precious. What makes you want to be alive?”
This was not a conversation I expected to have with a wraith, but it was an easy conversation for me to have. “It’s because of all the emotions you seem to loathe. That’s what makes me want to be alive.”
“And that is what it means to be human?”
“It is to me.”
He stretched the silence. After a while, I grew uncomfortable with his eyes on me, so I curled my feet under me and stood. He tilted his head to the side and tracked every move I made.
“Have I entertained you enough?”
“I think you would like to clean yourself up.”
“Where? Your land appears to lack water.”
“This land has many things if you know how to look. But it will involve me touching you again, and I’m not sure I want to do that,” he replied like he thought the conversation tedious.
“Then don’t offer me the choice if you’re not willing to allow it.”
Raclin slid from his bed like a predator deciding it was ready for a meal. He prowled toward me and I was too mesmerized by his grace and beauty to step away. It was only once he came too close that I stepped back, feeling suffocated by his proximity. “You show little respect.” He towered over me. And it was only now, once he was on his feet and standing right in front of me, I saw his leathery, barbed, black wings spanned out behind him. “I flail slaves who show more respect than you did right now.”
The color of his skin had turned a healthy olive. The dark smudges around his eyes faded and he no longer looked drawn and tired. He looked alive and strong.
“So respect is another emotion you understand. Which makes me curious as to why you claim not to understand love and compassion.”
He frowned. “It is you I don’t understand.”
“And you look healthy, so I suspect you are now strong again. I fulfilled the bargain so you are indebted to me twice. I’m ranking up a tally you may not be able to handle.” I swallowed, not at all as confident as I sounded, and his eyes dipped to my throat to follow the movement of my swallow.
“A bath is a fair trade on the debt you fulfilled.”
“But I thought you said you had to touch me.”
Raclin snapped out his hands, grabbed my wrists and wrenched me toward him, stopping shy of pulling close enough that our bodies touched. His lips peeled back to expose his teeth in a snarl as he grimaced through whatever pain he felt when he touched me. Finally he exhaled with a harsh gasp and released me. I staggered back to keep my balance.
Something caught my eye in my periphery. I turned to see a stone basin, a large stone basin set on the ground, looking like something you would wash dishes in, only too large for that.
I looked to Raclin. He shrugged. “Your bath.” And he retraced his steps to his stone bed, slid back down to recline with his wings settling underneath him and stared at me.
I approached like I was a frightened deer to see my reflection in a pool of water. “Is this wraith magic?”
He was back to running his thumb across his bottom lip while his elbow rested on his bent knee. If only he would stop his staring at me.
“I can’t wash in front of you.”
“Why not? I am not the first male to see you naked.”
; I felt something drop inside my chest, like a heavy weight had crashed through down into my stomach. “How would you know?”
“Because I touched you.”
“You know things about me because you touched me?”
“And in return for what you gave me, I offered you a bath. So no, there is no extra debt to pay.”
I felt naked before him the way his eyes prowled over me like he knew my every thought and every deed. Perhaps he did know my every thought and deed.
“I do not want your bath anymore,” I spat.
His face darkened but he stayed like marble.
“You want to know what it is like to be human, then ask more questions.” I was surprised at the steel in my tone. “Don’t slip into my mind, or whatever you did, and steal my private moments. You don’t understand honor, trust or friendship. Well, when you act with those traits, you don’t cross the line you just did.”
I wanted to go over there and punch that expressionless mask from his face. My memories of Morick, his kind, goodhearted deeds were too precious to share with a wraith, to be tainted by his evil heart. Everything Cerac and I had done, those wondrous beautiful feelings were sullied by Raclin’s prying. I was stripped, exposed and raw. Morick and Cerac were men worthier than being entertainment for a bored wraith.
I swayed a little, then blinked as a sudden wave of dizziness washed over me. My stomach churned loudly, but I didn’t feel hungry; in fact, it felt like I wanted to be sick. Surely this was not a reaction to my anger.
“I suggest you sit before you fall.”
It sounded like Raclin’s voice swam through thick, syrupy air to reach me. I blinked as his body wavered and blurred. I raised my hand to run through my hair and noticed the shake.
I think I said something, but my mind was clouded. My heartbeat came through like a heady banging drum. “I…” It’s all I could say as my legs gave way. I was tumbling, my vision narrowing. Something appeared in front of my eyes, but I wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe a person, Raclin? I think I said his name. Then everything faded.
27
I was hot, suffocatingly hot. Something covered me, over my mouth. I couldn’t breathe. I flailed my arms but still I was smothered. I thrashed about with my arms and legs, crying out in panic.
“Lie still.” A harsh voice spoke close by.
I tried to open my eyes, but they felt nailed tight. A terrible wrenching in my stomach drove me sideways and onto my elbows. My body convulsed and heaved but nothing came out. Despite this, spasms raked through me, over and over again until my throat was raw and I ached. I was about to collapse back, but moisture filled my mouth, filled and filled, and I could no longer hold it in. I spat and a great gush globbed out onto the back of my hand, thick, warm and sticky.
My vision returned in a slow, hazy mix of images. Why did I feel like I did? Where was I? What had happened? These were questions that swam around and around without finding answers. A violent tremor seized my body as a fierce heat drove fluid to the surface of my skin.
A hand slipped behind my head, raising me partially off the ground. “Open your mouth,” the voice demanded.
An instinct inside rebelled against the demand and I turned my head to the side, refusing to obey, but the fingers dug into my scalp, forcing my head back. “Take it.” It was a male’s voice, low and threatening, not a demand, a growl.
My strength ebbed. I sagged back into the hand supporting my head. Something cold rested against my bottom lip. Cool fluid flooded my mouth. Instinctively I swallowed. The taste was like the greatest nectar. I leaned forward, chasing more. My mouth was dry and raw but the fluid soothed the rasping pain.
“Careful,” came the male voice again, softer this time.
My head was lowered back onto the ground, the hard ground, but there was something underneath me, warm and soft. Material that felt softer than material should against the skin.
I opened my eyes, blinking to a vision of gray, a drab day with thick, burdened clouds looming low. I rolled my head to the side, taking in the monotony of color, and looked into black eyes staring at me from a glorious face.
The hammer of my memory pounded down and settled in me with a jolt. But I was too weak to move away. I’d push back to the farther reaches, far from him and his prying mind, but my body lay prone.
“The poison controls your body. You are weak and helpless.” He said it without emotion.
“Go away.” I wanted to spit the words in his face, but they came out as weak as he claimed me to be, as I was. Nothing of my body would obey my commands. My arms and legs felt like lead.
“Is that what you want?” Raclin leaned in close, his eyes trailing across my face, my neck and down to my chest, not with wonder or lust but with a dissecting curiosity. He was interested in watching the process of a human dying.
“You want to defile my death as much as you have my mind?” Talking made me tired.
“You told me you were afraid to die. Are you afraid now?”
I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at him.
“Rya.” My name was spoken with a deep command. I could not help but open my eyes.
“No, I am not afraid. Being strong makes death a fearful thing. When you are weak and in pain, you welcome it.”
A small frown marred his smooth brow. His eyes stopped searching my body for answers and settled on my face. Because I was weak and vulnerable, I could not turn from his gaze. I allowed it to pour over me and into me, the force of his will now channeled through his eyes. I hated being helpless against someone who thought so little of me.
“If I leave, you will die. It is my will that keeps you alive.”
If I wasn’t so weak, I would laugh at the ridiculous switch of our fortunes.
“Why did you take my memories?”
“Because what you told me wasn’t enough.”
“I still don’t understand why it is so important to you.”
“If you lived my life, you would.”
Raclin placed his hands on my body, one hand on my chest and one on my stomach. Burned flesh staled the air as Raclin’s lips peeled back baring white teeth. He hissed and growled through the searing pain of touching me. His body trembled and shook, then he flung himself away, falling with a hard jolt onto his back on the sooted ground. His smoking hands glowed red as he curled them up in front of his face.
He lurched to the side and heaved and heaved a black slurry. It seemed to go on forever. The sounds he made hollowed out the silence. Once he settled, he howled with rage or agony, drawing his great leathery wings down around him, shielding his body from my sight.
I dragged my eyes from him, once I realized I no longer felt sick and tired. I felt restored, healthy and strong. I sat up from the stone bed, looking in awe down at my body, my steady hands, no longer tremoring with sickness. The poison was gone.
Raclin stirred, his wings lifting. He pressed up from the ground and rolled over to sit, one arm rested on his bent knee much like he’d done reclined on his stone bed. He wiped a dark smear from the corner of his mouth as he eyed me.
“You took the poison.”
“It wasn’t doing you any good.” He pushed to his feet with born grace, so like Cerac.
“How do you feel?” I said.
“There is nothing left. It has burned through.”
“Your hands?”
He held them up, palms facing me to reveal a dark red stain of skin fast healing.
I stood, feeling strong, stronger than I’d ever felt before. “It seems we are even. I saved you and now you have saved me.”
He turned away from me before I could read his expression. I stared at his leathery wings spread behind him, my head filling with confusing questions regarding this wraith.
“Our legends of your kind are wrong.”
His wings lowered, folded slightly as he looked over his shoulder at me. “How so?”
“They say wraiths are hideous, murderous beasts.”
He half turned to face
me. “And what makes you say they are wrong?”
“A murderous beast would not save a human.” I was not going to comment on how wrong the hideous part was too.
“If you mistake my actions for compassion, you will surely die when the time comes to face the wraith horde. There is nothing in a wraith’s heart but cruelty.”
“I do not believe that.”
“Then you are a naive fool for believing in the fairy tales your father told you.”
My breath washed away as my heart fell. “Did you leave anything of me a secret?”
He turned fully to face me. “Nothing. I know everything about you, Rya. And you have no idea how deadly that is.”
I could not breathe.
Raclin swept around again. “Now you must leave.” He was walking away as if he’d already forgotten me.
“You will help me find my way out of here?” My hope slipped through into my voice as I rushed after him.
“I will show you the way.”
He kept his pace, his leathery wings wavering. It helped speed him along through the trees and I was forced to run behind him but tripped and stumbled over my own feet when I saw a bloodied leg poking out from behind a tree. More of the leg appeared as I moved closer. And then the tree no longer hid his mutilated body, shredded and torn apart so that I could not tell who it was of the three prisoners. My sword lay partially covered in the soot.
I dived for it. It had been Cerac’s gift to me. Holding it in my hands felt like having Cerac with me now. I pulled it close to my chest, savored even the cold of its metal penetrating my clothes. I was alive, returning when I never thought I would never see the sun or Cerac again. Raclin loomed to the side of me and smacked the sword from my hands with such force it felt as though my fingers were ripped from my grasp as well.
I spun on him, my rage consuming me, but then I saw his face and the rage dissipated as quick as it had come. If I had felt rage, Raclin felt fury. His dark eyes burned hotter than the sun, burned into me, lashing me like a whip.
“It was a gift.” I hated that my voice sounded like an apology.
“I know.”
“Why won’t you let me keep it?”
“You will not keep anything precious to your heart.” He looked to the mutilated man. “I may have saved your life, but remember who I am.”