The Ruins Box Set

by T. W. Piperbrook

  “You’re right. This sickness is beyond the herbs I have. He needs a healer,” Jaydra said, her brow stitched with worry.

  “Where is the closest one?”

  “Halfway across the island.” Jaydra seemed concerned.

  Kirby looked from William to the door, weighing her options. She couldn’t bring William to the healers. And leaving him alone in a strange place was an option she didn’t like. Jaydra looked between Kirby and William, deciding on something.

  Finally, she said, “I can get one for you. I’ll just need to ask a neighbor to watch my children.”

  “That would be a big help,” Kirby said appreciatively.

  “I’ll be back soon,” Jaydra promised.

  Kirby nodded, watching as William’s eyes opened and closed. It looked as if he were in the midst of some waking dream. Jaydra was heading for the door when Kirby stopped her. “Wait.”

  Jaydra turned, expectant.

  “Do you know how to ride a horse?” It was a thin hope, but Kirby would regret it if she didn’t ask.

  Jaydra said, “It has been a while since we’ve had horses. But I can ride, yes.”

  Kirby was reluctant to let one of the horses out of her sight, but William’s condition seemed to be worsening. His health was a bigger priority than losing a horse.

  Making a decision, Kirby said, “I will set you up on one of our steeds.”

  Chapter 71: Kirby

  Jaydra looked as if she was finding her bearings after years of not riding, but the horse wasn’t bucking or throwing her off. After a few moments, she bid Kirby farewell and rode off, disappearing into the fog and through the trees. Kirby listened until the horse’s gallop was a distant sound.

  She wrung her hands, looking around the neighborhood, feeling helpless to do anything but wait. A few people opened their doors, hearing what was likely a disturbance at such an early hour. Those people were little more than silhouettes through the fog. A man carrying firewood stared in Kirby’s direction as he passed, a spectral shadow in the thick mist.

  Kirby went back inside the house to tend to William.

  William was calmer than before, but he was turning his head, murmuring things she couldn’t understand. Every so often Kirby caught a word. Demon. King. Teeth. It seemed as if he had carried some feverish dream from sleep to consciousness.

  Kirby recalled some of the soldiers in her army, breathing their last breaths while others had watched. A few had even died in her arms.

  Not again, she thought.

  Chapter 72: Bray

  Bray awoke at dawn before most of the others. He cracked his neck and looked around, realizing he could only see a little ways past the fire. A thick, morning fog had appeared since he’d last closed his eyes, encircling the trees, sliding around the trunks and providing a misty veil over the campground. The few men taking watch looked as if they were ready to move.

  The fog would make it harder to spot and hunt game in the weather with the poor visibility.

  It would also make it harder to spot demons.

  Regardless, Bray was happy to have his bag filled with boar. The cold would keep the meat for a while, but he was ready to get back to The Arches and check on Kirby and William.

  A few of the other hunters nodded as they awoke, sitting up. Some of the previous day’s mistrust was gone. It seemed as though Bray had been welcomed into their group. He appreciated the camaraderie, but if he’d been on his own, he would’ve been on his way already. He packed his things and looked east in the direction of The Arches. He’d been keeping his bearings as they hiked.

  If something were to happen, he’d find his way back.

  Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he got to his feet and relieved himself in the trees. A few grunts and rustles told him the rest of the hunters were awakening.

  “It’s going to be a foggy one today as we make our way back,” one grumbled.

  “We won’t have the luck we had yesterday, that’s for sure,” said another.

  “At least I’ll have a warm wife to wake up to tomorrow, instead of you.” Someone laughed.

  Bray returned to the group from the trees. While the men packed their things, he had a quick breakfast. When they were ready, they headed off for the place the hunters called home.

  Chapter 73: Kirby

  Kirby was still watching William worriedly when she heard galloping hooves outside. She crossed the room, opened the door, and peered out into a morning that was still as gray and foggy as when she’d last left it. Every minute she’d waited had seemed like a day, with William tossing and turning, not sleeping, hardly responding.

  Hopefully, help was here.

  It took her a minute to discern who had arrived. Jaydra was on the front of the horse, but Kirby was surprised to see someone other than a healer on the back.

  Flora.

  Kirby approached them, confused and worrying. “What happened?”

  “I’m sorry for the delay,” Jaydra said between gasping breaths. “I ran into Flora on the way.”

  Flora explained, “I saw the horse. I was catching fish early, planning to come visit you. I stopped Jaydra to ask what was going on.”

  “Flora had an idea,” Jaydra said, catching her breath. “Instead of riding for a healer, we rode for the bridge guards. We told Bartholomew what was happening. He said Deacon would approve taking William to the second island. There are many healers there, and he will receive better care.”

  “He’s heading there to meet us already,” Flora said, her cheeks red from the wind.

  Kirby looked between them, processing the information. She wasn’t sure she trusted leaving, especially without telling Bray where she was going.

  But what choice did she have? William might die, if she didn’t take the help.

  “Okay,” she said. “Help me carry William. We can take the other horses with us.”

  “I’ll go while you stay with the horses, Jaydra,” Flora said.

  Flora dismounted, and Kirby and Flora raced inside to retrieve William. They carried him outside to the horse, propped him up on the saddle, and Kirby climbed on back. Once William was secure, Flora and Jaydra each took another of the horses. They rode the three steeds away from the house.

  The path was thick with fog as they left the house behind, heading down the dirt trail, curving and winding with it. Every once in a while, Kirby saw some shadowy figure making their way down the paths in the mist, or heard the flap of wings as something took flight from the trees.

  They had almost reached the intersection of the main road when Flora and Jaydra stopped. Startled, Kirby halted, too.

  “What is it?” she hissed.

  Neither Jaydra nor Flora answered. Kirby looked around, trying to determine what was going on.

  A group of soldiers she didn’t recognize had appeared from the mist, blocking their path.

  Chapter 74: Bray

  “We’ll need to stick together,” Levi said. “We don’t need any accidents in this fog.”

  The other hunters agreed as they made their way through the forest with game in their bags, on their backs, or dragged behind them. The sun hid behind a wall of thick, gray clouds. Scraggly tree limbs stuck out at all angles above them. Mist swirled between the trees. Bray doubted they’d have another fortunate kill, unless they got lucky.

  He walked in a tight group next to the others, close to Levi and Hildebrand.

  “Our people consider a fog a blessing,” Levi said. “It hurts the hunt, but it is good in other ways.”

  “How do you mean?” Bray asked.

  “The fog is a message from the gods,” Levi said. “It lets us know they are still there.”

  “It’s good luck,” Hildebrand agreed.

  Bray wished the fog would clear, but he said nothing. After hiking for much of the morning, they arrived at the top of the mountain pass that they’d ascended the day before. The fog was still thick as they slowly descended the terrain, moving fast enough to make progress, but careful
not to slip on the cold, snowy slopes. The other hunters led, while Bray, Levi, and Hildebrand walked behind. Bray listened attentively for demons, not wanting a surprise like the one they’d received the day before. He saw no tracks. He heard no animals scrambling for safety. The forest felt dead, as if they’d stepped into some land that was foreign to all of them.

  They passed the bodies of the dead demons and the building, and kept going.

  They were halfway down the slope when movement in the forest interrupted them. Bray paused, prompting Levi and Hildebrand to halt, too. Something much larger than a hog was lurking twenty yards away, tucked in fog and hiding behind some scrub brush and trees to their right. The other hunters didn’t seem to have noticed.

  A demon?

  Bray felt for his sword, straining to see whatever was hiding, probably watching him. Something brown—an animal, or a man in a dark coat—moved to the side, probably performing the same cautious inspection he was.

  Bray’s pulse pounded as he took a step toward it.

  Levi and Hildebrand followed closely behind.

  An elongated neck straightened out.

  A face looked in his direction.

  A deer was alert and staring at Bray.

  Bray relaxed his hands, no longer reaching for his sword. He risked a slow glance over his shoulder, watching Levi nock an arrow.

  Bray reached over to stop him.

  “What are you doing?” Levi hissed, stepping away.

  The deer reared up and darted through the fog, crashing through some trees and disappearing. The other hunters cried out as they heard the commotion. A few pursued the animal, but it was too quick for all of them, lost in the mist. They’d never catch up.

  “Why did you do that?” Levi exclaimed, taking an angry step toward Bray.

  Hildebrand looked equally upset as he came up alongside them. “You didn’t even try to shoot it!”

  “The Wardens believe it’s bad luck to kill a deer,” Bray explained.

  “What are you talking about? The gods bless any kill we make,” Levi said angrily.

  “You’ll miss your next three catches if you shoot one,” Bray said. “Not worth the risk.” He gave them a hard glance that said he’d defend his decision, if he needed. “I have no qualms about killing, but some animals, we leave alone.”

  Hildebrand stared at him with a look of rage. “Stupidity,” he said, storming off toward the other hunters, who were trying in vain to track the deer. “That’s all it was.”

  “Regardless of your beliefs, you wrecked my shot. You’ve missed a chance to feed more people,” Levi said with a huff, leaving to join his friend.

  Bray forced back his anger. If he were in the forests outside Brighton, he might’ve traded more words, possibly even blows, but he wasn’t going to risk fighting a forest full of hunters. He wouldn’t compromise the luck he’d had for thirty-five years for a few pig scratchers.

  He’d be gone in a day or two, anyhow.

  Chapter 75: Bray

  As they trekked down a mountain slope, getting closer to the road leading to The Arches, the hunters seemed to have mostly forgotten about the deer. A few gave Bray lingering, annoyed glances, but they eventually continued looking for prey, following whatever tracks they could find through the fog. A few of the men bagged rabbits unlucky enough to spring from the scrub brush at the wrong times. One hunter stumbled on a fox skulking near a demon carcass, knocking it over with a well-placed arrow.

  Bray had accepted that his biggest kill would probably be the hog. But that hog would go a long way toward feeding him, Kirby, and William.

  He was grateful.

  Thinking about William, he wondered if perhaps William was already better and practicing hunting small game on the islands with Kirby. Maybe Bray would even get back and find that the kid had bagged a few squirrels. He smiled.

  There were still some conversations he wanted to have with William, but he’d wait until the boy was better. He’d have plenty of time.

  Having recovered from his previous outburst, Levi walked near Bray again, following a line of animal prints.

  “I’m hoping for one more kill before we reach the road,” Levi said.

  Bray held in a comment about the fog. He’d had enough talk about blessings and traditions for one day.

  Chapter 76: Bray

  After traveling a while longer, they finally came upon the road leading to The Arches. It seemed as if the wispy, snake-like mist was following them, weaving through the trees and down the mountain pass, blanketing the street in its white vapor. The fog was even thicker by the river, which was nearly invisible past the thick, sloping riverbanks. Bray adjusted his bag on his shoulders as he walked next to the other hunters, keeping to the center of the road.

  Despite the weather, the hunters were excited at the prospect of getting home. They chatted about their wives, their children, and the game they’d caught.

  “Molly will make a tasty stew from some of these rabbits,” one hunter remarked.

  “My daughter needs new gloves,” another man said. “I’ve never seen a pair so tattered.”

  A few men laughed.

  Bray looked over at Levi, who was walking next to him. “You mentioned that the take is divvied up after we enter The Arches. How does that work?”

  “Some of our scouts will see us coming,” Levi said. “They’ll bring carts to the road to help us bring the meat to the butcher’s. We can figure it out from there.”

  “The butchers’ buildings are some of the first buildings in the tradesmen’s area, right?”

  “Yes,” Levi confirmed. “You’ll be given the bulk of what you caught, but a small part will be taken for The Arches, and for the sacred people of the second island.”

  “A tax,” Bray said.

  “I’m not familiar with that word, but it sounds like the same thing.”

  “It’s a portion for the people who run things,” Bray explained.

  Levi agreed it was the same.

  As a Warden, Bray had mostly been exempt from taxes. Pushing aside what might have angered him on a normal day, Bray focused on keeping pace with the others as the road wound around a curve that was becoming increasingly familiar.

  Bray could barely see thirty feet in front of him. He looked for demons in the thick mist, but saw only the shadows of trees on either side of the road, and the silhouettes of the hunters farthest away.

  A white noise grew louder. They were approaching the cascading waterfall, though he couldn’t see it. He had the sudden thought that they’d round the bend to find nothing there. No bridge, no guards, no people.

  What if The Arches never existed?

  What if the entire place had been a dream?

  He knew the thoughts were ridiculous, but he couldn’t help himself from thinking them as he continued down the road, passing the roaring waterfall that he could now barely make out through the mist. The men walked faster, spurred on by the closeness of home. Bray battled an uneasy feeling as they bent with the road, getting closer to the bridge entrance and the guards that would be stationed there. As they took the turn, the fog thinned slightly, allowing him to see farther.

  Through breaks in the mist, he saw a few silhouettes—guards—stationed near the boulders on the bridge entrance, cloaked in gray vapor, watching.

  More people were behind them.

  Many, many more.

  At first, Bray thought he was imagining things, or that he was seeing ghosts. But he didn’t think he was. The entire bridge was covered with people. The people were little more than pale faces and flashes of clothing, appearing and reappearing as the fog moved around them.

  There must be a thousand of them, Bray thought.

  All were watching something on the center of the bridge.

  None except the guards were looking toward the road.

  Bray looked to his right and found Levi’s eyes.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “The people are preparing for the c
eremony,” Levi said.

  “What ceremony?” asked Bray.

  “The Ceremony of the Fog.”

  Chapter 77: Bray

  “I should’ve expected a ceremony today,” one of the hunters said quietly to Bray’s right.

  “We’ll have to wait until it’s over to load in our things,” said another.

  Bray was hardly listening. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the bridge, unable to stop an uneasy feeling from taking root in his stomach. He’d seen enough gatherings in Brighton to be suspicious. He looked around at the other hunters, but none seemed alarmed, or confused.

  “The Ceremony of the Fog is one of the most sacred traditions of our people,” Levi explained.

  A thick mist floated up from beneath the bridge, obscuring the crowd. Every now and again, it dissipated and Bray could make out some people. Bray felt like he was always looking at some new person. All had their backs turned as they watched and listened. As they got within fifty feet of the bridge, Bray heard a voice competing with the waterfall.

  “Who’s that speaking?” he asked Levi quietly, trying to temper his nerves.

  “Deacon,” Levi answered.

  Of course. It made sense. Several of the guards walked out toward the hunters with quick, purposeful strides as they got close to the boulders. Bray recognized the woman with the missing arm, moving to intercept them.

  “Stay here,” she said with a stern face.

  Levi, Hildebrand, and the other hunters set down their packs. Bray reluctantly followed suit.

  He tried to get a better view of what was happening through the gap next to the boulders, but he could only see the back rows of people and the guards that were stationed in front of the stones, in between the hunters and the bridge. He heard Deacon’s gravelly tone, coming from the bridge’s center, indecipherable from so far away, but he couldn’t see him. Men, women, and children faced the same direction, watching, listening. Occasionally, they murmured a response he couldn’t make out. Parents held children’s hands. A few elderly were mixed in with crowd. Bray wondered if The Important Ones were here. He’d been told that they rarely left the second island. Perhaps they’d made an exception for the ceremony.