“Why have you manifested yourself, demon?”
“Please, I’m not a demon.”
“What witch have you given your allegiance to?”
“I told you, I’m not associated with anyone.”
“Such a shame. You could end this all here, if you’d just be honest with me.” Father Reynaldo raised the blazing sharp poker.
I thrashed against the table as he brought it to my leg, pressing it against my thigh. A shriek bellowed from my throat. My skin seared, causing black dots to dance in front of my eyes. Pain spread across my skin, until it traveled my whole leg. He pressed hard, digging the sharp pole into my body. The stench of my flesh burning made me gag.
“Let’s try this again. Who called you into being, demon?”
My chest constricted as I gasped for air. “Someone cursed me. I told you this yesterday.”
“Again with the lies. Why is the truth so hard for you to speak? Are you protecting the Wanderer scum?” This time he pressed the fiery rod to my other leg. The dagger-like point stabbed into me, torching my flesh from the inside out.
Agony clutched hold of me; I squeezed my lids shut, refusing to give him the answers he hoped to pry from my lips. I wouldn’t falsely accuse anyone, no matter how much he tortured me. Tears trickled down my cheeks and I gritted my teeth against the torment. Hatred spun through my veins like a spider creating a web. I wished I could turn into the Beast upon command and rip off his thick head. My eyes fluttered open, and I pictured his blood gushing from his throat.
“Enough.” Kenrick grabbed hold of Father Reynaldo’s arm. “Stay your hand, Priest. She does not deserve to be tortured in such a manner. It is not your right to judge her.”
“Oh, but it is. I am the right hand of God, and you, Lord Kenrick, are on the verge of blasphemy. Guards, see our young knight out of the room so I might finish questioning our prisoner.”
“I’ll report you for this,” Kenrick said.
“And I’ll tell them that she’s bound you with her spells. I advise you to stay out of this and let me do my job.”
Kenrick struggled against the men. “But what if she’s right? What if by killing her, we’re only allowing her to respawn and start anew? Think this through.” They shoved him from the chamber, the door slamming shut with a loud clang.
“Now, where were we? Oh, yes.” Father Reynaldo jabbed another poker to my abdomen, the hot metal scorched through the fabric of my dirtied dress. I clenched my teeth, trying not to scream. But the pain was too much.
“Name the witch.” He put his sweaty face in mine.
“No.”
As he branded me once more, I focused my thoughts on Raul. I imagined his smiling face, the way his gaze melted me. I remembered the contours of his muscles when he chopped firewood and how his skin glittered like a bronze statue. I focused on the memories from the night he’d made love to me and promised that we’d wed. If I was to die, then I wanted him to be my last thought. I closed my eyes as my head flopped to the side. How I wished we would’ve really run off together.
“Oh, Reynaldo, you don’t want to kill her too soon, where’s the fun in that?” a familiar, feminine voice said. “I want to see her turn into the monster and watch her true love murder her again. Such tragedy. If only she’d learned her place back then, we wouldn’t have to go through this.”
My lids opened and through blurred vision, I swore I saw Lucia standing by the door, her dark hair swept atop her head.
Was this another vision?
A hand connected with my face, the sting pulsing hot. I peered at Father Reynaldo, who leaned over me. But there was no sign of Lucia. Had I been hallucinating?
“Don’t think I’ll let you slip into death so easily.” He set the poker down in a pail of water and it hissed, sending steam billowing up. “I’ve sent for the magister. He will be here in a couple of days to determine your punishment.”
I swallowed hard. The magister’s gruesome reputation preceded him. He was the law of the country and dealt out punishment to the accused. I’d heard plenty tales of how he extracted confessions from his victims.
A guard undid my clasps, and my gaze drifted to the doorway where a woman in a velvet cloak stood watching my ordeal. Though the hood kept her identity a secret, it didn’t hide the wicked smile on her lips. I knew that face. And she was no ghost. After all these centuries, Lucia was still alive, which meant she was somehow bound by this curse, and I was going to find out how.
For two nights straight, I refused food, allowing myself only small sips of water. I didn’t want to die by Father Reynaldo’s hand or the magister’s. If I had to choose, I would rather waste away. My body hurt all over, my skin still tender. There was no relief from the pain. Inky blackness swathed the cell, the air chilly. I crawled to the corner furthest from me and hefted up my skirts to relieve myself. Hot urine splashed against the stones and against my legs. It sickened me, but I had no other means. When I finished, I limped across the uneven rock floor.
My cell door clanked open and a guard slid a tray inside. All it contained was a stale piece of bread and a small mug of water. I sat down, wrapped my arms about myself, and glared at the meager meal.
“You should eat and drink,” a female voice called from the chamber next to mine. “You’ll need your strength if you are to defeat him.”
With weak arms, I pushed myself to my feet once more and edged to the thin window that separated us. I saw a dark haired girl hunched in the moonlight. Her torn gown clung to her in rags. Dirt and blood streaked her thin face. She looked no older than me.
“Who are you?”
“Maria Farmer.”
I gripped the metal bars and leaned closer. “Where did you come from? You weren’t in here before.”
She took a ragged breath and trembled. “They’ve had me locked away in the hole for weeks. No light. No people.”
How could he get away with this? Did no one question his authority? “Why are you in here?”
A cold laugh echoed off the stones. “Blasphemy—I spoke out against Father Reynaldo for stealing from the poor and for his gluttonous ways. For his sins against women.”
“Then our fates are the same.”
A soft sigh came from her lips. “Yes, but if we give up then he wins. He might’ve conquered my body, but he shan’t have my mind or my heart.” She kneaded her hands together, then repeated over and over, “He can’t have my heart. He can’t have my heart.”
Oh God. What had she endured at his hand? The thought of the sweaty priest touching her made me sick. I closed my eyes, fighting back images of him staring upon my own bared flesh.
“I’m sorry. If there’s anything I can do … ” Not that I was in a position to help her, seeing as how we were cellmates. Damn. If only I could turn into the Beast. I was certain that the cell was spelled. But what kind of magic could keep me from changing when Gram, Raul, and Rhyne had searched for years for such a tool? If I could get Kenrick alone, perhaps I could persuade him to help me. I knew that he didn’t want to see me tortured. Deep down, I wondered if he might still love me? If I could use that to my advantage?
“Thank you.” Maria stood and came to the window; her fingers squeezed mine through the small slits. “My family no longer comes to me. I do not know if it is because they believe the charges brought against me or if he threatens them.” She swayed back and forth her sights focused on the door to my cell. “He can’t have my heart. He can’t.”
I patted her frail hand. Father Reynaldo was breaking her. “We’ll lend each other strength.”
“I can use all the strength I can get. It has been so long since I’ve had anyone to speak with. Besides him.” She spat. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped tighter to the bars. She released the iron rods and scraped at her face with her hands as if to wipe away the nightmare of his touch. “I want him to stop. To leave me be.”
“Shhh … he’s not here. It’s just you and me.” I
lowered my voice to a soft whisper, hoping to calm her.
Maria shrieked, picked up her cup of water and dumped it on herself. She then took the hem of her dirtied dress and used it to wash her arms and hands. She sat down and cradled her head in her hands, rocking herself.
I plopped on the floor to give her privacy. There was so much I wanted to ask, but didn’t dare breech the subject, not with her in this state. So I waited until her cries faded away then stood once more, peering into her cell.
“Tell me, what more do you know of Father Reynaldo?”
She snarled at the mention of his name. “I saw him steal from the coffers. I knew I must report him, so I talked to one of the visiting priests who’d stopped in Fire Ridge on his way to Brightway. He seemed to believe me and promised to send word to the head of the church. However, when I went to visit him the following day, he was missing. Within the night, Reynaldo sent soldiers to retrieve me from my farm, claiming I’d blasphemed against the church. Once he got me back here, he tortured me, claiming to do it in the name of God.” Her lip quivered. “He just kept hurting me, and the pain, it never goes away.”
More than anything, I wanted to transform into the Beast and kill this man for his crimes. He deserved to die. And yet, I had no means to do so while in this prison.
“He’s nothing but a monster,” I said. “In the end, we must believe he’ll get his just punishment.”
She sniffled, wiping a hand across her face. “And what of you? How did you end up in this hellish place?”
I lowered my head and stared at my feet. There was no point in lying, seeing as how the truth had already come out. “Because I am cursed. I am the Beast.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“No. It’s a fact.” I swallowed hard then went on to tell her of my affliction and how it came to be. She listened intently as I described the horrific things I’d done.
“It isn’t your fault. How dare they keep you locked away when they should be trying to find a means to end this.” Renewed courage sounded in her words, and in that instant I was glad I shared my story with her.
I gave her a weak smile. “Perhaps, but I have paid the price for centuries. This time doesn’t appear as if it will turn out any different.”
“What is the name of the person who cursed you?”
My nails dug into the cold, hard wall. “I don’t know.” But I would find out.
Several days later, a ruckus came from outside the cell. A crowd cheered as the sound of horse harnesses jangled. I stood, walked to the barred window and gasped.
There, parked in front of the church, was an ebony carriage. The magister’s carriage. First one long spindly leg appeared, then another, reminding me of a black widow spider. His pale skin stood out against his dark clothing, black hair tied back with a red ribbon. Pock marks scarred his face, making him look more severe.
He strode to the front steps of the church, where he turned to address the villagers.
“Dear people of Fire Ridge, I’ve come to deal with your prisoners according to the law. They will no longer threaten you or your families.”
His raspy voice sounded like a knife being sharpened on stone, and every word stabbed straight into my heart. Cheers rang through the square, and my stomach knotted. This would be a blood bath. The people wanted to see our deaths, this was nothing but a show for them.
I edged away from the window and slumped down, my knees drawn to my chest. How long did I have before they killed me?
A part of me wished they’d get on with it because my mind conjured too many horrific things and I’d rather know what I faced. But at the same time, it terrified me to consider the painful methods they’d use to try and extract information. And once again, I was faced with my future—of my coming back and having to start all over again. The killings. The curse. Dying.
After a few hours, the scrape of the heavy wooden door sounded from down the hall. The wait was over. My fists clenched at my side as I climbed to my feet, ready to fight. My mouth went dry, my legs trembling beneath me.
“Come, Maria Farmer. Time to finally get to the truth.” Father Reynaldo jerked her cell door opened.
I froze in place. The pleasure in his tone sickened me and I wrapped my arms around my chest.
“I am innocent,” Maria answered.
As they dragged her away, struggling and fighting, I leapt to my feet and hammered on the wooden barrier.
“Let her go! She’s done nothing wrong.”
My breathing came faster as anger welled inside. Why couldn’t I change into the Beast when I needed to? The idea of ripping out the priest’s throat swirled around me as the torture chamber door slammed shut. Not too long later, Maria’s screams echoed through the prison.
I covered my ears, trying to drown out the terror and pain she endured. I bit back tears, and rocked back and forth. Hadn’t she been through enough?
“Please, make them stop,” I whispered.
They called us monsters, yet, their methods against innocent people made them worse than us. Even when I closed my eyes all I saw was Father Reynaldo’s smug look. The enjoyment he got from torturing people, how could no one call it into question?
More shrieks reverberated off the walls and no matter how tight I clutched my hands over my ears, I still heard everything.
“Only a few more days and it’s your turn.” Father Reynaldo peered into my cell, his pig face trickling with sweat.
“Go to hell,” I spat.
His mouth twisted. He fumbled to get his key ring, when the magister called for him.
“We’ll finish this later.” He backed away.
I dug my nails into my palms. He better hope we never found ourselves alone together, because if we did, I’d do whatever it took to see him suffer.
Unable to sit still, I paced the small room. With every moment that ticked by, I worried for my new friend. When a commotion sounded in the hall, I glanced up to see guards coming into my cell with Maria. They dropped her at my feet as if to make a point.
I stared at the bloody mess that used to be her back. Her skin was torn, as if she’d received thousands of lashes from a whip. Once the soldiers disappeared, I rushed to her side. She whimpered, her face pressed to the cold stone floor.
“Oh God, what have they done to you?” I regarded the horrific state she was in, and nearly vomited when I noticed they’d hacked off her pointer finger. “Those sick bastards.”
I ripped a strip of fabric from my dress, grabbed the small metal cup of water, and washed her hand as best I could, before bandaging it. There wasn’t anything I could do for her back, not without salve and clean bandages.
Maria raised her head and her gaze met mine. “Thank you,” she whispered. Within seconds, she fell into unconsciousness.
Please God. Help her.
I brushed the hair out of her face and touched her cheek. She was so young and would have had her whole life ahead of her.
“Somehow, we have to make this right. You can’t die, not like this.”
Maria didn’t stir, but her chest rose and fell with each staggered breath. A reminder that she still fought to live.
Daylight faded, plunging the prison into shadow, and I shivered against the chill in the air, wishing for a blanket. My teeth chattered, but all I could do was hug myself, and try to conserve body heat.
“I brought you a present.” Father Reynaldo unlocked the cell once more, a sneer pulling at his lips. He waved some men forward. They dragged Raul and his grandmother into the cell and tossed them to the floor. “I thought you might want to spend your husband’s last nights with him. Come day after tomorrow all three of them will be tried for their crimes.” He gestured to Maria, Raul, and his grandmother.
I rushed to Raul’s side. “Their crimes? Maria has done nothing but suffered at your hand. And Raul, he just got to town, he couldn’t have possibly done anything. You have no proof.” But even as I said the words, I knew t
hat several soldiers had witnessed Raul use his power when they tried to capture me.
“He practices witchcraft, and will be tried as an accomplice to the devil. And his grandmother, she delves into the same things as him. We will try them all.”
“You’re sick, and in the end you’ll pay for this.”
He smirked. “Is that a threat?”
“No. It’s a promise.”
“You heard that, didn’t you?” Father Reynaldo glanced around at his small retinue. “The demon threatened my life. Me. A man of God.”
I lunged at him, but he and his guards quickly stepped into the hallway and slammed the door shut. I trembled with hatred. I wanted him dead.
At last, I turned my attention to Raul and stared at his bruised, swollen body. My throat constricted. Blood caked his tunic, the sleeve ripped to reveal a large gash across his arm.
“Raul?” I knelt beside him. My fingers touched his head. He was burning up.
His eyes opened a crack. “I have failed you.”
“No. That’s not true. You and your grandmother didn’t desert me.” And I loved him. When everyone else turned their backs on me, he’d stayed, or rather they’d stayed, even after I’d been responsible for Rhyne’s death. They knew I was the Beast, but still fought to keep me safe. My hands cradled his face. “Don’t you dare give up, do you hear me? We’re going to get through this.” The cycle had to end now. It had to. I could not lose him. I would honor Rhyne’s memory by trying to save his family.
He gave a weak grin. “Little Brielle.”
His head lolled to the side and my heart clenched as I felt for his pulse. A sigh of relief escaped my lips. He’d passed out, same as Maria. Perhaps it was better this way. If they slept, then they didn’t suffer the pain.
I sat beside him and stroked his hair. Thoughts of what was to come consumed me. This was all my fault. If I hadn’t been the Beast, they wouldn’t have come here. Rhyne wouldn’t have died. God forgive me.
“We don’t blame you, you know,” Raul’s grandmother whispered. “For Rhyne’s death.”
Legend of Me Page 23