by Jon David
“Over the years we’ve tried. Not only is she slippery but also nearly impossible to kill. Best we can do is avoid her.”
Morgalla wished she could do something about it. The more she heard about Deadra and Makrus, the angrier she grew. She pondered that maybe if she could find a way to help the town, she would curry favor with them.
Dottie clearly saw how disturbed Morgalla was. Her answer for all problems was tea. The kettle whistled, and she poured two cups as the young woman hunched in the chair…silent and still.
“How did that woman die?” Morgalla asked.
Dottie set the kettle down and took a deep breath. She pulled up a chair next to Morgalla. She still hadn’t made eye contact as she sought out the words. “She was murdered,” Dottie said, and she was answered with a confused look. “She was killed by a man named Camron Smalls.”
Morgalla pondered over the word Dottie had used. “Murder?”
“When someone kills another with no warning or reason. It’s a great offense here.” Morgalla contemplated the new word as she clutched the hot teacup in her hands. Dottie took a sip. “They don’t even have a word for it where you’re from?”
Morgalla snapped out of her trance. “No, they don’t.”
“A lot of people in town are torn over what to do with him since the crime was so brutal.”
Morgalla noted another word crime that she had never heard before. But she said nothing. “Torn?”
“This hasn’t happened in years, not since my children were young. What do we do with him? What punishment would fit the crime?”
“If this has happened before, what punishment was given then?”
“Death.”
Morgalla was unfazed by Dottie’s answer, but she remembered something: A man was in a cage the day she’d arrived in town. She remembered the name the deputy had said. She also recalled sensing his soul. The black mark meant little, for the mark of death would still be present if someone killed another in battle. But he had lied to the deputy when he’d said he hadn’t done it.
“What do you think?” Morgalla asked.
“Well, Deni Santamaria was a wonderful person. I wanted to see justice. Somehow I would have felt…soiled…if we were to execute him. But on the other hand, keeping him locked in a cage didn’t seem right, either. Almost everyone was in agreement though that he should not be let loose.”
“Almost?”
“There is a very vocal minority who feel he should be allowed to make amends somehow. But what is a human life worth?”
Morgalla was silent for a moment as both women drank their tea. “Do you consider life precious?”
Dottie’s reply was immediate. “Of course, I do.”
Morgalla smiled.
Nothing more was said for the next couple of days. Morgalla started each morning bringing in firewood and helping Dottie however she could. She learned a lot…even how to cook eggs and various meats. As night approached, Morgalla, still in disguise, looked out over the surrounding hills and mountains, bathed in glorious light in different shades of orange. Dottie approached. Morgalla noticed she had dressed in her best outfit.
“Dear, you’re not going?”
“Going where?”
“Why, the celebration, of course. I thought I told you. Why do you think I’ve been doing all that baking?”
Dottie pointed. Then it hit Morgalla why she had baked ten pies.
“Oh,” Morgalla said. “I thought maybe you were preparing for winter or something.”
Dottie laughed. “Come, it will be a good time.”
Morgalla pondered a moment. “Um…well maybe…”
Dottie had mentioned a celebration of some sort, but with much on her mind, Morgalla had forgotten.
“It will be a big party. You can wear your new clothes.”
Morgalla hesitated a moment. “I don’t know…”
Dottie gave her a slight nudge. “They’ll have lots of food.”
Morgalla tapped her chin. “I sure could go for that.” She checked her cloak, which technically new, had seen better days. Already it was tattered with mud stains. “I don’t know if I can show up in this…”
Dottie smiled. She had a solution. The elderly woman hobbled to the closet and rummaged through some clothing. Morgalla watched over the woman’s shoulder and noted that a lot of the clothes were men’s and had dust on them. Dottie reached for something and pulled it out, handing it to Morgalla.
“This belonged to a much younger woman.”
Morgalla didn’t ask but accepted it. She slipped out of her cloak and replaced it with the new item: a dagged hood made of worn, brown leather. Morgalla pulled it over her head and checked in the mirror. She tied her raspberry hair back into a tail.
Morgalla smiled. “I promise I won’t mess it up.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Dottie said and patted Morgalla’s shoulder.
14
Something to Celebrate
Morgalla pulled a small wagon filled with the pies that Dottie had made. As they got closer to downtown, Morgalla noticed the coming mass of souls, an amalgam of smells carried on the air, each of them wonderful. Tables were set up with a cavalcade of delicious looking and smelling dishes made by people all over town. Morgalla stared with wonder, her eyes wide at the different foods before her. Each kind of food had its own section: one for meats, one for vegetables, and one for desserts.
“Who made all of these?”
“Everyone contributed,” Dottie replied with a smile.
Her words brought a smile to Morgalla’s face too. “I don’t know where to start.”
They put the pies among the other desserts. Morgalla wasn’t sure what some of them were, but they were all different bright colors and smells…the smells that hit her nose were almost overwhelming.
“Make way for beer.”
Morgalla almost got run over by a group of men coming through, rolling barrels past her. They were setting up casks on the other side of the street, taking up an entire section of the party area.
When evening came, the town square was lit with oil lamps. Banners and other decorations of red, silver, and blue were raised everywhere. Morgalla had no idea what they were celebrating—nor at that moment did she really care. By then the band was playing, and people were dancing.
Morgalla had a difficult decision to make with all the food on display. She sniffed along the area reserved for the various cooked meats and picked up something unfamiliar.
“What is this?”
“That’s bacon,” someone said.
Morgalla nibbled at it for a moment.
She and Dottie found a place to sit. Dottie had a small portion of food on her plate, but Morgalla’s was overflowing. Half of it was bacon.
The two of them were content sitting and watching the people dance, but Dottie’s soul was shifting.
“Oh great. Here comes Lindon.”
“Who?” Morgalla asked as she noticed the familiar tall, lanky human approaching. He was dressed quite proper with polished shoes on his large feet flopped about as he strode through the crowd. He stopped a moment to look at himself in the shop window, straightening his tie.
“Don’t look,” Dottie noted. “Maybe he’ll walk on by.”
They weren’t so lucky.
“Hello, Mrs. Haven. I see you’re enjoying yourself. And your young friend.”
“He-wo,” Morgalla said with her mouth full of food.
“This is Morgalla, Lindon. She’s new in town.”
“As I’ve heard. Teaching her some naughty habits, too I see.”
“Hmm?” Morgalla asked as she crunched on some bacon.
“I’ve been trying to educate the savages of this town that eating the flesh of animals…our brothers…is beneath us.”
“But it’s so yummy,” Morgalla said as she took another bite.
The young man stood with arms crossed. His eyes closed, and he shook his head. Morgalla thought maybe she had seen him before, and finally, it
hit her. He was at the meeting the first night she’d spent in town.
“Aren’t you going to enjoy the party, Lindon?” Dottie asked.
“I’m enjoying it enough.”
Morgalla sensed annoyance from the young man.
“Want some bacon?” Morgalla asked, holding up a piece to Lindon who took a step back, covering his nose.
“Oh, God no,” he replied with disgust. “I refuse to partake in the murder of innocent creatures of nature.”
Morgalla crunched on the bacon and ever so slowly chewed in front of him. “Mmmm…so yummy.”
Lindon’s hand went to his mouth. His eyes closed. Morgalla stood and approached him.
“Cooked animal flesh,” she continued. “Yum yum in my tum tum.”
Lindon gagged and ran off through the crowd, his body hunched over and his hand still over his mouth.
Dottie chuckled as her friend sat down. “That was good. I’ll have to remember that next time.” They loved the scene, surrounded by the happy people enjoying the food and music. “You should go out and dance, dear.”
Morgalla wiped her mouth clean. “Um…well I wouldn’t wanna hurt anyone’s feet.”
Dottie chuckled. “Oh, if only I were you…”
“Why don’t you go?”
“My old bones haven’t seen a dance floor in a while.”
Morgalla happened to see the sheriff and his wife on the dance floor, their souls intertwined in joy. She watched children running around playing, their souls also joyous.
Morgalla caught a glimpse of a woman with her daughter. The child was barely old enough to walk on her own. The unity of their souls was something Morgalla found curious; it was a binding that seemed as strong as any metal, and the bliss glowed from their hearts as they embraced. She couldn’t help but smile, but only a little.
As the evening continued, Morgalla spent most of the time at one of the large wooden tables, a safe distance away from the festivities. She had another plate in her hand, this time sampling something called cake. With her lips and mouth littered with crumbs and frosting, and her stomach aching, she sat back and enjoyed the bliss and dealt with the misery.
Dottie hobbled up to her. “Morgalla, look at all those handsome boys over there.” The old woman pointed, and indeed there were gentlemen dressed in their best. “Why not go ask one of them to dance?”
Morgalla groaned. “If I get up…I’m gonna throw up.”
Dottie chuckled and took a seat next to her. “Are you afraid?”
The young woman wiped her mouth. “Um…well I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone’s feet, is all.”
“Yes, I’m sure that’s it.” Dottie had a coy smile on her face. “How old are you, dear?”
“I’m not too sure. I think maybe nineteen?”
“Really? I’d have guessed younger.”
Morgalla chuckled. “Yeah, you’re not the first to say that.”
“Have you given thought to what you’re going to do?”
“Here? Well, I’m not sure I can stay.”
“Of course you can, dear. You’re a hard worker and a good person. Surely there’s a place for you and the rest of your people.”
For a very brief moment, Morgalla thought that your people meant demons, but she had to remember that Dottie and everyone else thought she was one of these Izari people. She had so many questions but didn’t know how to word them.
“I thought everybody here was cautious of outsiders,” Morgalla said.
“Nonsense. We’d welcome all the Izari if they’d only drop their distrust of us. It’s long past time for both groups to bury the hatchet.”
Morgalla paused and contemplated her words. The phrase Dottie had used was confusing, but she had a feeling she understood. “Yeah…I agree.”
The music then stopped, and all attention was on the stage. Mayor Rasper stepped up to the stage that was filled with many people, including Lindon who was still looking a little green. She took the podium, and the crowd noise died down to silence. She spoke loud enough for all to hear.
“Four years ago, we made a promise. Tonight we keep that promise. We take our first steps into a bright future. No longer will we cower in the dark. Soon every home and business will have electricity surging through it.
Night in Freedom Ridge will be as bright as day.”
After a round of applause, the mayor continued, “We all give thanks to our engineering department and the dozens of men and women who brought our community into the light.”
More applause erupted, and the mayor and city council all led the crowd in a countdown from ten. Morgalla noted that only half the throng joined in. Many of the people standing in the back were old-timers and skeptics. Another thing the demon-in-disguise noticed was that the mayor and all the members of the city council appeared afraid of something.
When the countdown was complete, a man took hold of a giant lever and strained with all his might to pull it back. Morgalla noticed nearby the ground was littered with a series of cables covered in black rubber. A strange humming sound came from them and the lamp posts. What happened next left everyone in a collective gasp as the posts lit up with electric power. They dimmed at first but soon stabilized into a warm glow that illuminated the entire town square. When people seemed to regain their breath, everyone erupted into applause.
The effect of the demonstration was a strange sensation to Morgalla; the crowd’s mood had changed in an instant from a mixture of curiosity and skepticism to a sense of wonder. On stage, the emotions had gone from fear and dread to relief.
Everyone marveled at the town square. Up and down the main street was ablaze with electric light. Even the old-timers were in a shock as the amazing modern-day lights lit up the town.
“Good Lord,” Dottie said. “Imagine these in our homes.”
Morgalla was astounded too. In Hell, gems lit up caverns and darkened hallways. She didn’t know which she preferred, but since she hated the dark, either was better.
Soon both women were yawning. Dottie thought it was time to call it a night even though the party was still going on.
“You stay, dear. You’re young and can stay up late.”
Morgalla rubbed her aching belly again and yawned again. “Naw, it’s okay.”
They were about to leave when Morgalla sensed something disturbing from behind. She knew someone was watching her. She looked and spotted the mayor, still on stage speaking with Sheriff Dillon and Lindon.
“What is it?” Dottie asked.
Mayor Rasper and Lindon approached. Morgalla couldn’t determine what their intentions were.
The mayor spoke first. “Pardon me, but you’re the Izari girl, yes?”
“Uh…yes.”
The woman extended her hand. “Mayor Tora Rasper, it’s a pleasure.”
Morgalla accepted it. “Morgalla.”
“I would love to discuss with you the possibility of having your people meet with ours.”
Morgalla’s eyes were wide, and she was turning white. “Well, I don’t know about that…”
“See, that’s something I’d love to discuss. It’s time to become one big family.” The mayor then referred to Lindon who was still looking a little weak. “My associate, Mr. Alma, is the one who drew up the negotiations with Lord Makrus.”
“Feeling better?” Morgalla asked Lindon.
Lindon swallowed hard, his face sweaty. “I believe all people of this land should live together in peace.”
“That would be great,” Morgalla added.
They must have sensed her skepticism because the duo frowned slightly.
“You disagree?” Lindon asked.
Morgalla pondered a moment. “The…Izari I cannot speak for. But demons?”
“Surely they cannot all be bad,” Mayor Rasper added.
Morgalla smiled. “I know for a fact they’re not all bad. But it is their way of life, their very culture that concerns me.”
Lindon added, “Makrus has shown no aggression to us. If
anything, it’s been decades, long before anyone here was born, that demons attacked us.”
Morgalla held back a fury within her heart. She wanted to shout at him, that he didn’t know what he was talking about.
Sucking back the rage, she was able to speak softly. “Have you lived with them?”
“Have you?”
“Perhaps,” the Mayor interjected. “We should wait until our next meeting to discuss such things.”
Dottie’s hand went to Morgalla’s arm. “It’s getting late.”
“Please, keep it in mind,” Mayor Rasper suggested. Morgalla’s answer was simply a smile.
When they got back to Dottie’s home, Morgalla headed for the bed and practically collapsed onto it. She let out a groan as her hand ran over her bloated belly.
Worth it.
15
The Shroud
The young demon was up most of the night, just lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. That word murder kept ringing in her head and its meaning. Delilah and the monks had taught her many things, and they’d expanded her vocabulary, but they’d never mentioned that word. Morgalla had remembered only one death in the forest while growing up, but it wasn’t because someone had murdered him. His death was natural.
It became clear to Morgalla on her first day in Hell that death was something of an everyday occurrence. If demons even knew the word murder, they would probably scoff at it, and if she told them about the meaning, she imagined them laughing.
The presence of multiple souls outside of the house caused her to wake. Morgalla got up and walked to the front of the house and checked out a window. People were walking past, headed towards downtown. She tiptoed past Dottie’s bedroom and realized her friend was still sound asleep. Morgalla got dressed and decided to see what was going on outside. She had to check the reflection in the mirror before heading out, making sure her demon visage was gone. Yup, only pale skin, green eyes, and dark raspberry hair.
The closer she got to the downtown area, the more crowded it became. Through the mass of humanity, she saw signs that had sprung up like trees in a field of tall grass. The signs had messages on them. One thing was for sure, the locals disapproved of whatever was happening.