Aldric and the others watched as the settlers shuffled away, casting frequent glances over their shoulders. Soon, they’d all disappeared back into their houses. Neb was left with a slim young girl who looked to be about fourteen. Her freckled face was dirty, and her brown hair looked like it had been hacked off at the shoulders with a blunt knife.
She and Neb hurried over to a storage barn close by and returned a short time later bearing a basket each. Inside the building, they unpacked their contents onto the table: loaves of hard bread and packages of greased paper tied with string. To Aldric, it looked like preserved food, not the fresh produce he’d been expecting. And going by the grumbles coming from Niklaus and Bryn, he wasn’t the only one to notice.
“What is this?” he asked, pointing to the packages.
“Dried meat. Some dried fruit. The loaves are good if you toast slices from them.”
Stray Dog looked at Neb like he’d sprouted an extra head, while Soki pursed her lips.
Niklaus was right, Aldric realized: the settlers wanted help, but they also wanted them gone. And while they were here, they would feed them the poorest food they had.
He placed a hand on Neb’s shoulder. “Neb, this will do for tonight. But tomorrow, we’ll expect better.”
Shand glanced at him, then quickly away again, and stopped unwrapping a package that smelled of dried fish.
“I told you,” Neb said. “We don’t have much.”
“I understand. But this is unacceptable. We’re here to help you and the other settlers. If we feel you don’t want us here …”
There was a sharp hiss of indrawn breath from Shand. Neb frowned at her and shushed her with a gesture.
“Your Churches told you to help us,” he said. “You can’t leave until we’re safe.”
“Looks safe here to me,” said Bryn from beside the fire. “You all look like you’re doing really well.” He stared at Neb until the settler looked away.
Aldric squeezed Neb’s shoulder, trying to reassure him. “We’re all tired. I’m sure in the morning we’ll feel better. After a decent meal.”
Neb nodded. “I’ll see what I can scrounge up tomorrow.”
Niklaus snorted.
“Good,” Aldric said. “Then that’s settled. We’ll do our best to sort out the Dead-eyes for you as quickly as we can. Then we’ll be gone, and things can get back to normal. For everyone.”
Aldric wasn’t sure he believed that himself.
Neb nodded curtly and gestured to Shand. “Come on, girl.”
“I’m not a girl,” Shand said.
Neb grabbed her arm and dragged her to the door. Her protests faded as they went outside, and the door closed behind them.
“Ungrateful bastards,” muttered Bryn.
Valeria shrugged. “What do you expect from a bunch of provincials.”
Priska was poking the various packages. She wrinkled her nose as she touched the dried fish, a bony freshwater variety from the look of it. “Ugh, this stinks.”
“Enough complaining,” Aldric said. “Neb said he’ll provide better in the morning. For tonight, eat what you can, and get some sleep.”
After a few slices of toasted bread and some dried mutton washed down with water, Aldric felt better. But from the sour looks of his companions, it would take a lot for the settlers to redeem themselves tomorrow. One step at a time, he thought.
He spread his bedroll against a wall and settled down to sleep. By the fire, Priska and Valeria conversed in hushed tones. Aldric worried about Valeria’s influence on the young woman. He wondered if he should somehow separate them, perhaps guide Priska to Soki instead so she could start unraveling Priska’s defective knowledge of sorcery. But he needed rest.
And he still had his own duty to fulfill: to use the relic to glean some knowledge, some insight, from its random visions. That, at least, would be something.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Journey of Tears
THEY’D SECURED KURIO TO the horse, and Mellish had said his goodbyes to Zarina. Then he’d spirited her out of Caronath under the cover of night.
Her hands ached from clutching the reins, but try as she might, she couldn’t loosen her grip. Along with the tight metal band around her throat, her wrists were manacled and locked to an iron ring on her saddle. The metal abraded her already raw skin, and her wrists stung with every step of her horse. Her mind swirled, seldom settling on a single thought as they flitted inside her head like mayflies. Willas. The metal cube. Gannon. Demons. Zarina.
“Where did you learn to ride?” Mellish said contemptuously, breaking her distracted reverie.
“I didn’t.”
Her thighs and rear ached abominably. She was city born and bred, and her nose itched and ran from the wilderness around them. The air was strange: unpleasantly thin and tasteless without the fragrant dust of Caronath.
“That explains it. Likely honest animals would fear you, demon.”
“My name is Kurio, and I’m no more demon than you are.”
Mellish leaned to the side and spat from his horse. “Zarina said you are, and that’s good enough for me.”
“Good dog,” muttered Kurio.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing.”
She could see the stock of her crossbow poking out from the saddlebag behind her. So they’d at least packed all her gear, not that she could see Mellish letting her use it. Not under any circumstance. She understood why they’d secured her so well, because she’d kill Mellish the first chance she got. At the moment though, even if she strained, her weapon would still be two feet from her hands.
“Then shut your mouth,” he said. “We’ve days of traveling yet, and I don’t want to listen to your constant whining.”
The rest of the day passed in a blur, Kurio lost in her thoughts, vaguely aware of not stopping for a midday meal. Mellish shoved a canteen made from a hollowed-out gourd into her face, but she drank little of the water, not caring if she spilled any.
Trees went by. The horses clopped across rivulets and streams. Birds sang. Bugs hummed in chorus. Eventually the light grew dim, and Mellish called a halt. She noted he buckled on his sword as soon as he dismounted.
Kurio winced at the ache in her back. She slid out of the saddle, and agony flared in her legs and hips. She cried out in pain and fell to the ground. As she lay there, fingers clutching the soft earth, weeping softly and cursing the gods, Mellish led her horse away.
Too bone-tired to care, Kurio watched as he set up camp. Bedrolls for the both of them, a fair distance apart, and a single blanket. There were plenty of sticks and branches close by—one thing the forest was good at providing—and she was never out of his sight as he gathered enough for a fire. He built a structure of sticks above a pile of bark and some fungus he’d found, then struck an alchemical stick, which flared brightly before settling down to a flame. He lit the tinder, and soon the campfire was ablaze. The light of the fire, its warmth on her face, gave Kurio some hope.
“Won’t someone, or something, see it?” she croaked, then coughed. Her throat was dry; she hadn’t drunk enough water.
There was a canteen with the cooking supplies. She struggled to her feet and, fumbling with her secured hands, managed to swallow a mouthful.
“Talking again now, are we?” said Mellish. He placed another branch on the fire.
“You told me to shut my mouth.”
“I’m sure that’s not the first time you’ve heard that.”
Swallowing a sharp retort, Kurio took another swig of water. This one went down easier as her throat recovered.
“Most men ask me to open my mouth.”
The words felt bitter on her tongue, but she was desperate. If there was any way she could get Mellish off guard, she had to try it. She wouldn’t go so far as to lie with him—the very thought repelled her—but if she could get close enough, with his thoughts on her body and his ardor clouding his mind …
“I won’t be touching you, demon.”
Kurio frowned. “You seriously believe I’m a demon, don’t you?” She settled cross-legged in front of the fire, massaging her aching thighs with the balls of her palms.
Mellish didn’t answer, just began preparing a meal of bread and cheese. Kurio groaned. Mellish was obviously no cook, and days of eating only bread and cheese would leave her constipated. She watched as he also brought out dried prunes and salted plums.
“You think of everything, don’t you?” she said.
“Eat. Drink more water. Sleep. We’ll be at the ruins in no time. We’ve been researching them for years. If the stupid settlers hadn’t stumbled upon them, we’d have looted them undetected. Just do what you’re told. And once this is over, you’ll be free.”
Kurio didn’t think that was true, and Mellish’s half smile as he said it confirmed her fears. Was she quick enough to stand and kick coals over him, then subdue him? Maybe the coals part, but her manacled wrists meant she wouldn’t have a chance against him one on one.
“Zarina told me I’ll likely die,” she said.
Mellish remained silent, and his refusal to reply unnerved Kurio. He really did think she wasn’t human.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she pushed. “Won’t our fire be seen? Aren’t there Dead-eyes and all manner of creatures in the wilderness?”
Mellish snorted and spat a wad of phlegm into the flames. Kurio wrinkled her nose.
“You only have to fear me,” he said. “The Dead-eyes are unlikely to bother us until full-dark, and we’ll be safe by then. If anything else approaches, I have a few surprises and some wards they’d have to get through. Nothing out here is strong enough to breach them, except maybe a powerful sorcerer or a wraithe.”
He gnawed on his bread and cheese like a rat and likely spoke of his wards to deter her from an escape attempt. Kurio shivered. Wraithes were the villains of many a childhood story. “They don’t exist. Wraithes, that is.”
Mellish bowed his head, as if he felt the weight of a painful memory. “There aren’t many left, and they usually stay within their steel-walled city. They only come out for specific purposes, and they are prone to violence. So if you do see one, beware.”
“How come you know so much about them?”
“My order has many books. There’s much to learn, and unlearn, of our history.”
“What order is that? The Order of Kidnapping Women? The Glorious Knights of Torture?”
She thought she’d get a rise out of Mellish, but he simply gave her a flat stare.
“We’re called the Order of the Blazing Sun. Mock us if you must, but we have been active for thousands of years. We fight and kill demons. Most importantly of all, we oppose the Tainted Cabal.”
“The what?” said Kurio, feigning ignorance.
“Followers of the demon Nysrog.”
Kurio tried to spread her hands. Couldn’t. Her manacles clinked together. “You’ll have to forgive me,” she said. “But I’ve never before heard of demons or your order.”
Okas had mentioned Nysrog and demons, but she’d thought he was deluded.
Mellish placed a salted plum in his mouth. His jaw worked, as if he chewed cud. For long moments he didn’t speak; then he shrugged. “We pit ourselves against the Tainted Cabal. The sorcerers who follow Nysrog and seek the demon’s infernal power for themselves. A few were given immortality—a fragment of their soul shattered free and bound forever. They work to return the world to darkness.”
“It sounds dreadful.”
Mellish gave her a sharp look. “It would be. But we have stopped them. So far. There aren’t many of us, but we persevere.”
“Why do you need me?”
Mellish shoved a plate filled with dry bread, cheese, prunes, and plums at her. “Eat,” he said, then removed a thick book from his gear and began to read.
Kurio looked despairingly at her meal, then broke off a hunk of bread and some cheese and chewed slowly. Her horse, a brown mare, whinnied and shifted its feet, tugging at the rope securing it to a tree. Kurio finished her food, got up from the fire, and approached the beast, whispering calming words. Her hands smoothed its coat, patted its side, and it nuzzled her arm.
“I think the horses are thirsty,” she said. “Have they been watered? There isn’t any around here. Why didn’t we camp by a stream?”
“The last water was hours ago,” said Mellish with a shrug. “We should cross a stream tomorrow morning, with any luck.”
“Don’t you think that’s unkind? The horses need water. We can spare some.”
“We need the water for us. They’re only animals. They’ll survive.”
Kurio shook her head at his casual cruelty. He didn’t give a whistle for the horses.
“You said you had wards. So you’re a sorcerer?” she asked.
If he was, she knew she’d likely never escape. With only a word, her bones could be flamed to charcoal, and her blood boiled.
To her surprise, he shook his head. “No. We’ve gathered items of power over time. Some are useful.”
Scavengers then. With an overinflated sense of importance.
“By ‘we’, I take it you mean the Order of Imprisoning Women?”
Mellish rose to his feet so quickly Kurio flinched.
“You think this is amusing?” he snarled. “We go to save the world. You’d best remember that and cooperate.”
“I’m manacled,” Kurio said with venom. “And collared by this sorcerous torture device, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Rage filled Mellish’s face, and his mouth twisted into a sneer. “Oh, I haven’t forgotten. And you won’t either. It’s time for another demonstration. After this, you’ll obey me, demon, and you’ll know what’s coming the instant you disobey or try to escape.”
His hand moved to an object secured to his sword belt. It looked like a bronze turtle, with gemstones dotting its shell.
“Mellish,” Kurio said meekly. She’d pushed him too far. “Please. I—”
An immense weight crushed her. She buckled, felt stripped and trampled. Darkness and vertigo assailed her, and she groaned. Agony tore at her with searing tendrils. Her skin and flesh felt immolated by fire.
Strangely, through all the pain, she sensed another presence … Somehow it gave her hope. She clung in desperation to an inner kernel of herself, knowing the agony was an illusion. Her body and mind were whole. She would survive this.
Yet her endurance waned. She was, after all, only human. Her mind went blank. There was nothing, a void as insubstantial as fog.
Then sound came to her, tearing at her ears. “Wake up, demon.”
She lay facedown on the ground, pressed into the damp earth and leaves. Her mouth tasted of bile. She shivered, too weak to move. She tried to breathe, and the air tore at her throat like razor-sharp knives.
“Get up,” Mellish barked.
Kurio struggled to her knees. “You’re an asshole,” she grated.
Mellish was sitting by the campfire. An alchemical globe hung from a chain around his neck, shedding light on the tome he studied. The book was a handspan thick, bound with dark leather and a flap lock. Her gaze was drawn to the turtle on his belt. The evil relic that controlled her collar. No, not her collar. Theirs.
A hostile glare from Mellish. “Did you enjoy that, demon? Our history tells of demons that take pleasure in pain.”
“My name is Kurio.” She crawled away from the horses until she was close to the fire again. “So tell me, Mellish, how many demons have you killed? Ten? Twenty? Hundreds?”
“Seven. Their spawn are scattered. Hard to track down.”
“Like me? Women … or children? Did you kill children, Mellish?”
No answer. Only a clatter as he threw a stick on the already blazing fire. She’d take that as a yes.
“Am I spawn?”
“Yes.”
“To be slaughtered like an animal?”
“Yes.”
“Look at me!” she shouted. “I’m a woman. I�
��m human!”
“No. You’re not human at all.”
“You deceive yourself! I am human born and human raised. If there is any demon blood inside me, it is weak or nonexistent. I don’t have powers …” She trailed off. She did have powers of a kind—her talent. She ignored her rising fear and continued. “I don’t hunger for human flesh. For blood. I’m not a monster.”
“But you are. You are diseased, a scourge upon this world. Our tenets dictate that demons and their spawn must be eradicated. The smallest drop contaminates the whole, so there can be no leniency. No mercy. I’ve seen darkness. We’re the bulwark against it. The defenders. The saviors. If we fail in our task, darkness will consume the world. Night … will be endless.”
No, thought Kurio, you are the demons. Whatever crusade Mellish and Zarina were on, it had twisted them. They were cruel, monstrous. Heartless. Any indignity, any cruelty, any murder, was justified. She knew then that she had to get away, or she would die.
“How do you know I have demon blood?” she asked.
“You weren’t harmed by the cube.”
“I didn’t touch it,” she lied. “I used calfskin gloves.”
“You lie,” Mellish spat. “Your kind are treacherous. Deceivers.”
“Is there another test? I’ll prove I’m no demon.”
Mellish laughed cruelly. “There’s another test, and you’ll face it soon enough. Then you’ll join your kind back in the hells. And good riddance.”
Kurio fell quiet, not wanting to antagonize him further. She reached up to touch the collar around her neck. Zarina had used the collar to cause her pain, but she hadn’t needed another object to do so, like Mellish did. Zarina was a sorcerer, but Mellish wasn’t. That fact gave her a glimmer of hope.
Kurio couldn’t help herself. She glanced at her crossbow again.
“I see you looking at it,” Mellish said.
Kurio suppressed a sigh. “It’s good workmanship. I just wish I’d paid extra for the sea-ray-skin grip. Have you ever used a sword with a sea-ray-skin hilt? Your grip will never slip, no matter how damp your hand is.”
“My hands don’t sweat. It’s my opponents who fear me.”
Revenant Winds (The Tainted Cabal Book 1) Page 30