by D. S. Murphy
Once we moved closer I could see that they were large, black moths with dark purple stripes.
“They’re scared of butterflies?” Luke asked.
“They’re poisonous,” Jazmine said.
“Of course they are,” Trevor groaned. He tore a branch off a dead tree. The leaves were already brittle and dry.
“Toss me your lighter,” he said. Luke pulled it out of his pocket and sparked it against the leaves. They burst into flame. The rest of us found our own branches, and together we charged towards the cart with our makeshift torches, streaming thick black smoke.
“Don’t let them touch your skin!” Jazmine yelled, swiping her flaming branch into the dark swarm of winged insects. Their wings caught on fire and they fell burning to the ground, emitting a terrible screeching sound.
It was all over in a few moments. We helped the merchants to their feet. They had large, angry rashes on their arms and faces, but appeared mostly unharmed.
“What are these things?” Trevor asked, kicking at one with his foot. With the wings gone, it looked like a large black beetle, writhing in the ash.
“Death moths,” Jazmine said. “Though I’ve never seen them this far north.” Their wings were as big as my palm, with mesmerizing patterns and a velvety texture.
“Why do they call them that?” I asked.
Jazmine picked one up carefully and spread its sapphire wings. Large round circles in the swirled pattern looked like eyes, and on its back, as big as my thumb, was a white, skull-shaped mark that gleamed against its dark body.
“Freaky,” Luke said.
“Thank goodness you came,” one of the merchants said, wiping down his skin with a wet rag.
“They’re nocturnal, we thought we’d be safe, but they must have snuck into our cargo before we left.”
“What are you even carrying that attracted them?” Trevor asked.
The man opened the door of the cart and we looked inside. Dozens of potted plants bore shrubs with bright yellow and white flowers. The scent was intoxicating.
“Plumeria!” Jazmine said, breathing in deeply. “You’re from Denvato?”
“That’s right,” the man said. “The pollen drives the moths crazy. They would have eaten our whole crop, if you hadn’t stopped them. Ironic thing is, the flowers smell sweet, but don’t actually have any nectar. The moths transfer pollen from flower to flower in their fruitless search, becoming enraged. The flowers usually bloom at night, but they must have opened up in the darkness of the cart.”
“Here child,” the woman said, taking a bracelet of fresh petals off her wrist and offering them to Jazmine.
“Take it, a gift to remind you of home.”
She fastened the bracelet of small buds around Jazmine’s wrist and smiled.
“What are all these flowers for anyway?” Trevor asked. “You’re heading to the citadel?”
“You’re kidding right?” the woman frowned at us. “Which compound did you say you’re from?”
“Algrave, and Denvato, but we’ve been travelling.”
“The wedding feast,” the man said, closing up the back of the cart. “The king always orders wreaths and arrangements for the ceremony. Same every year. Usually waits till spring though, seemed he moved it up this year. We had to scramble to produce this many flowers off season.”
I felt a sudden tightening in my lungs, and a sharp pain in my chest. I adjusted my mask, fighting for breath. These flowers would have been for my wedding day. I thought they’d be out chasing me, hunting me down. Instead, it was like they’d already forgotten about me.
Of course the weddings would continue.
Next year, there would be another choosing. Life in the citadel would go on, like none of it had even happened. Like I didn’t even matter.
“You okay?” Trevor asked. He knew me too well. But he wouldn’t understand how I was feeling. Not about this.
“Forget it,” I grumbled, jerking my chin towards the trees. “We’re on a mission, remember? Let’s go.”
It took three hours to reach Quandom. We fanned out, trying to stay low as we approached the compound. It was no wonder it was hard to find; surrounded by thick trees on all sides, nature had pulled down the walls and half the houses, with a covering of ferns so thick the buildings were half hidden. The plants that grew on the surface were gray and dull, starved of sun and burnt from ash.
Only the more aggressive plants thrived, with large, purple veins on their dark green leaves, studded with thorns as big as knives. Nothing grew big enough to grow fruit or blossom, but the struggle to grow was almost manic. The bones, however, stood out in stark contrast from the wasted landscape. They gleamed like polished marble, no doubt picked clean by predators. When I came with Damien, I was too horrified to study them closely. But this time I was paying attention to everything. The citizens of Quandom had been tied up and left to starve and burn in the center of the village, like candles on a birthday cake. Hundreds of them.
Their faces and arms were lifted in tortured screams, but in places their skin had loosened and broken off in the elements, leaving only their skeletal remains.
A chill ran down my spine. The last time I was here, I’d kissed Damien. And it wasn’t just to help the rebels, and get him to trust me so I could find the research. I’d wanted to kiss him. And he’d pulled away first. But how twisted was it that he’d killed my grandfather decades ago, and then made out with me in the middle of the mass gravesite marking the site of his father’s failed social experiment?
We waited in the trees for twenty minutes, but despite the sound of falling ash, the silence was heavy like a rolling fog. Finally, we entered the village of the dead, creeping past the grotesque statues of what used to be the townsfolk, immortalized in ash by King Richard as a warning against those who would defy him. We crossed through the field of corpses as quietly as possible, carefully avoiding their mangled limbs.
“This place gives me the creeps,” Luke said.
“I think that’s the point,” Jazmine said.
Our weapons glinted softly in the afternoon light.
“Ssshhh!” Frank hushed, waving us forward. We darted towards the center of the town and gathered under the crumbling awning of the church.
Vines had overgrown the altar, half obscuring a large golden cross. A rusted bell hung in the remains of the tower, and I could almost feel a slight hum, like it was vibrating. Paintings were torn, and shards of colored glass from stained glass windows littered the floor like puzzle pieces.
I glanced around the corner of the building, and shivered as I saw the black iron gates leading to the cemetery. Every compound had one, inside the gates, so we could mourn our dead. Compared to the horror show out front, the somber, carved gravestones were practically a relief.
But they hid the truth. Part of me understood the lesson King Richard had been trying to teach me, when he showed me his cave of doom. The lesson he’d wanted his son to learn after the uprising in Quondam, with this vulgar display. It wasn’t just that he was brutal and sadistic. It was more calculated than that. It was impossible to ignore this kind of carnage. It was a reminder that the pleasantries of the compounds—breathable air, fresh produce, a weekly dose of elixir—were the utopian side of our new reality.
If the two races coincide peacefully, both survive. But if they didn’t…
Live together, or die apart.
This was the dark underbelly of that same reality; the contract of our kingdom was forged with blood and death. And were it not for the compounds, it would be open war again.
We walked up the path into the overgrown cemetery. Winged statues of angels and tall headstones stood crookedly, guarding their charges.
“See anything familiar?” Trevor asked, startling me.
“I don’t know,” I said. Some smaller trees and shrubs had pushed up through the graves, disturbing the remains, and I saw more than a few bones lying on top of the soil, wrapped i
n cages of gnarled roots.
“Something’s wrong,” I said, frowning at the neat rows of graves. “What I saw, it was in the trees, not in the open like this.”
“This way?” Luke picked up a skeletal arm pointed forward towards the trees, then yanked a ruby ring from the bony finger.
“Put that back,” I said.
“Make me,” Luke taunted, breaking off two of the corpse’s fingers to flip me off.
Trevor stood over him with his arms crossed, and Luke finally scowled and made a big show out of restoring the artifact.
“Not like he’ll miss it,” Luke grumbled. “And anyway, isn’t this what we came for?”
“We’re not grave robbers,” I said. “I don’t think.”
“This way,” Jazmine said, ducking under a large hole that had been torn through the perimeter gates. What I’d mistaken as boulders were actually worn tombstones leading up the hill, mostly buried in sediment.
“There,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief as I finally recognized something. I headed towards the gnarled trunk of a crooked tree, and then I saw it. It just looked like a misshapen boulder at first, but I dug the dirt and ash away from the stone with my fingers until I could see a small symbol etched into the surface.
jp
John Pattern.
“I thought he was executed?” Trevor asked, leaning closer.
“The whole town was. Damien must have come back and defied his father’s order by burying his friend.”
“So now what?” Luke asked.
“Now, we dig,” Jazmine said, slapping him in the stomach with a shovel. We took turns with the portable tools we’d brought with us. Soon the light was fading.
“Hurry up,” Luke said uneasily, leaning against the tree during yet another water break. “We still have to get back in one piece.”
“Maybe you should be helping then,” Trevor grumbled.
“Ah, I’d love to, but you just take up so much space. Plus, my palms are blistered up.”
“Wimp,” Jazmine said, taking the shovel from Trevor. I swiveled my head when I heard the metal of her shovel strike something hard.
I pulled back the dirt with my bare hands until I could make out the lid of a large chest. This is it. This is what Damien wanted me to see. I almost couldn’t believe it was really here.
It was an ornately carved wooden trunk, inlayed with bits of bronze. I was just reaching for the lid when a terrible shriek made me cover my ears.
Slagpaw.
“Shit, that sounded close!” Luke said, his eyes widening with panic. He gripped the handle of his rifle tightly, aiming the barrel into the shadows.
“Remember, no shots unless necessary,” I said, gripping my bow and nocking an arrow. “Or we’ll give away our location.”
“I’m pretty sure they already found us,” Jazmine said, pulling out her swords.
“Grab the chest,” I said, “we’ll cover you.”
Trevor frowned, but didn’t argue. He and Luke grabbed the handles of the chest and heaved it out of the ground, in a cloud of dust. The boys shuffled down the hill, past the gravestones and into the ruined church. I followed slowly, walking backwards with my bow raised. I shot an arrow at a dark shadow, but I couldn’t be sure I hit anything. The sleek, black compound bow felt powerful, but unfamiliar in my hands.
We hurried into the church, pushing closed the door inside. Jazmine and Luke grabbed a large piece of wood from the fallen rafters and braced it against the entrance. I frowned up at the holes in the ceiling.
“This isn’t much of a defense,” I said.
“At least we can focus our firepower,” Trevor said, raising his pistol. “Get a couple good shots off before they rip us open.”
“Shhhh,” Jazmine hissed, waving her hand. “Everybody down!”
We ducked behind the scattered pews, using them as barricades. I could hear the heavy padded footsteps of the creatures outside, sniffing against the walls.
“How many are there?” I whispered.
“At least two,” Jazmine said, reaching into her pocket. She uncorked the small bottle of elixir and took a sip, staining her lips red. I watched as her pupils dilated.
“If shit hits the fan, tell Camina... tell her something,” she said, leaning her forehead against mine.
“Tell her yourself,” I said. “Just two slagpaw? We can totally do this.” I tried to smile, though my heart was pounding.
I held my hand steady as I uncorked my own vial of elixir, my body responding to the heady scent. Was ten drops too much? What if we had to fight our way out? What if we needed more later?
I didn’t want to waste the elixir if I didn’t have to, on the other hand I was the only one capable of consuming extra without going crazy from the blood lust. I decided to take half the vial, around five drops, and felt it light my veins on fire just as the front door of the church burst open. I pulled my bowstring taut, expecting slagpaw, but hesitated when it was a man instead, or at least, an elite. He was wearing a long trench coat and a black hat with a low brim, and a bright red feather that matched the sparkling rubies on the hilt of his sword. I didn’t see his face at first, until he lifted his chin and flashed a cruel smile.
It was Tobias, but unlike I’d ever seen him. His golden curls had faded into a dull gray, as if he’d aged quickly. Dark purple circles hugged his eyes, which stood out like emeralds against his pale skin.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he taunted. “You should thank me, I could have let my pets eat you. You’ll die faster by my hand. Probably.”
One of the slagpaw jumped on the roof, and it creaked under its weight. The beast slashed through the hole with its massive claws, and Luke rolled out of hiding. He fired three crossbow bolts in quick succession. Tobias dodge the first two and actually caught the third one. “Now that’s more like it,” he grinned. He flicked the bolt back towards Luke and it sunk deep into his thigh.
Trevor tried next, charging towards Tobias with his arm raised, ready to strike. He moved quickly, I wondered how much elixir he drank. Tobias blocked his attack, then tossed him into the wall. Jazmine screamed and launched herself at him, just as the second slagpaw crashed through the back wall, straight towards me.
I shot five arrows. The beast swatted two away, and three stuck in his torso, but it didn’t matter. A hundred arrows wouldn’t be enough to stop this thing. It reminded me of something I’d read in one of Damien’s books about early mankind. They’d hunt in groups, but the arrows were mostly a distraction, so that hunters could get close and pierce the thick hide with spears. I dropped to the ground between the pews as the creature dove over me, shredding deep groves into the wood with its claws. It smashed through a central column, bringing down another chunk of the roof.
When it turned again, it was facing Trevor, who was still pinned in the corner, his weapon out of reach. It shook its head, opening its jaws with a high-pitched roar, then swiped out a massive paw. I grabbed for my sword, but I knew there was no way I’d reach him in time.
“Stop!” I screamed, stretching my hand forward. The animal paused, blinking at me in confusion. I could feel a subtle connection of energy between us. Tobias snapped his eyes up in astonishment. He’d been easily blocking Jazmine’s attacks, but he stopped when he saw me, and Jazmine managed to slice through his shoulder with her curved blade. He winced for a second before twisting her arm so hard I heard the bone snap. Then he kicked her in the stomach and she crumpled into a pile of debris.
“Now then, what do we have here?” Tobias said, pinning me with his eyes. The two slagpaw stalked towards me, growling from either side.
“Could it be the famed rebel princess? You know, nobody can stop talking about you back at the citadel. It’s a bit darker than the story I would have written for you, but I get the appeal. I guess I’ll have to be the one to bring Damien the sad news that you got eaten by slagpaw.”
“Tobias, please. Why are you doing
this?”
His eyes flashed with pain, and for a moment, I saw him for who he really was. Kind, sweet. But then his mask of rage fell again. He crossed the room in a flash, seizing me by the throat and slamming me against the wall. My feet kicked against his ankles uselessly. I clawed at his arms and neck as his fingers tightened around my neck.
“I serve at the pleasure of my king,” he growled, fire in his eyes. “And the rebels, they lured away the only thing I loved. They twisted her, made her betray me. She used me. Now she’s dead.”
“That’s not what happened,” I said, fighting for breath. Had he forgotten everything?
“She loved you. She loves you still.”
Tobias’s eyes grew wide, and he stumbled backwards, dropping me on the ground. He had a question in his eyes, one I confirmed with a nod.
“She’s still alive,” I whispered, daring a step closer. His face contorted, but just then, a savage howl ripped through the church and a dark shape tackled Tobias, smashing through the altar and bringing the remains of the tower crashing down on them both. I covered my ears against the harsh brass clang of the bell as it cracked the marble floor.
I thought it was one of the slagpaw at first, but this one was still wearing pants. Only the top half had grown wolf, and it was still human enough for me to recognize Trev’s dark features. He slashed at the elite, and in his shifted form he was bigger, and stronger. But too slow. Tobias dodged the razor-sharp claws and pummeled Trevor with lightning quick jabs to the ribs. Trevor sank back, clutching his chest.
Tobias leisurely drew his long, thin sword. Light gleamed against the ornate, decorative blade as he raised it up to strike. My heart caught in my chest. There was no way to beat him. He’d kill the others, and take me back to the citadel a prisoner. I reached for my vial of elixir, even though I knew it wouldn’t be enough, but before I could raise it to my lips, Luke ran past me with a battle cry, holding up the compact ultraviolet bulb. For a second, I was blinded by a flash of brilliant white light.