by Sadie Moss
Sacrifice
Her Soulkeepers #1
Sadie Moss
Copyright © 2019 by Sadie Moss
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Also by Sadie Moss
1
I’m never so dissatisfied with dresses as when I’m hiking through the woods, a bow over my shoulder and slaughter on my mind.
My priority is to hunt, to find food for my people so that fewer starve in these lean times, but the thought of stealing a pair of my brother’s cotton pants has crossed my mind more often than the thought of food.
Grunting in annoyance, I hike up the hem of my dress and step over a felled oak with a trunk that reaches my hips. I make a mental note to return after the hunt and harvest some firewood. If all goes well today, we’ll have something to stew in my mother’s fireplace tonight. If not…
Well, I try not to think about that.
My younger brother, Nolan, walks beside me. He lugs an axe over one shoulder, looking practically angelic with his blonde curls and vivid blue eyes, so similar to my own. We both take after Mother, with pale skin and light hair. Our father has a darker olive complexion and chestnut hair, but there’s no mistaking that we’re his offspring. I got my stubbornness from him, and Nolan got his wit.
This year has been hard on Nolan—on all of us, really. The hardship is visible in the sharp angles of his face and the near-skeletal thinness of his long arms. My brother is a good person, a hard worker, always out to do the best he can to help our village. But I worry that the toll of always giving and never taking may kill him before all is said and done.
“Look sharp,” I say, jarring Nolan from his quiet thoughts as we leave the tree line and head into the fairy clearing. The rest of our hunting party is already gathered, a half dozen men and women chatting over their weapons.
We’re late, as usual.
“Listen up,” Jacob Godwin says, holding both hands aloft to silence the group. He’s the unspoken leader of our crew. Barely three years older than my twenty, but strong and capable. Nolan and I join the semi-circle around him. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt this time. The woods are dangerous, and I pray you all remember that when we leave here.”
He’s right. Every time we hunt, we risk the chance that one or more of our group won’t return to the village tonight.
I played in this clearing as a little girl, when the world wasn’t as dangerous. This circle of grass among the trees has been here for ages. My grandmother regularly left offerings for Zelus during my earlier years, when he still occasionally blessed us with good fortune and bountiful harvests. Legend tells us that fairies danced in this clearing before time began, and that their feet trampled the brush and trees, leaving behind this magical clearing among the thick woods. I used to pretend the small open space was an alternate world, and I held dominion over it—a princess with a grand destiny.
Now it functions as a base point for the hunting crew, and in today’s world, it doesn’t look quite as magical. But it’s the one last safe space before we disappear into the wilds and hope to return unharmed.
“Remember, don’t stray too far south unless you want to become acquainted with the bogs,” Jacob goes on, pointing his bow in the general direction of the peat bogs.
“Yes, we still haven’t recovered Cooper’s body.” Josef Noonan’s voice is gruff, but for good reason. His son has been missing since the first spring hunt. We all know he’s dead. I can only imagine the pain of a parent who has no closure. No body to dress, to bury, to mourn.
“Right.” Jacob nods, sympathy reflecting in his deep green eyes before his gaze snaps back to the group as a whole. “Watch for the traps. Stay on the path and away from the underbrush. Doctor Loren passed into the afterworld last month. You get caught in a trap, you lose the foot.”
“Sounds like a metaphor for life here,” Nolan whispers to me.
I punch him on the shoulder and hush him, but I smile anyway.
Jacob shoulders his bow and looks at the eldest member of our hunting party. “Marin, would you like to say a prayer to Zelus for us?”
“Yes, of course.” Marin Keats straightens and tosses back his mane of shaggy gray hair. I can tell he was handsome once. His body is nothing but muscle from working the fields. He’s put months upon months into farming for our failing village, only to harvest a small percentage of surviving plants. Even banding together and pooling our resources hasn’t made an appreciable difference. The whole of our village can’t milk enough from the land to support us all.
We’re wasting away.
Of all people in this rag-tag group, I’d expect Marin to be the one who is least interested in praying to Zelus. He’s been around longer than most of us, so the sting of our god’s growing neglect pinches him hardest.
But the old man places his first two fingers to his right eyebrow and makes the sign of our god.
“Praise be to Zelus, god of all that is great, the keeper of our realm,” Marin says in his raspy voice. “Precious god of our land, protect us on this day as we hunt to provide for our people. In Zelus’s name, we worship and obey. Praise Zelus.”
“Praise Zelus,” I parrot dutifully, a hint of sarcasm slipping into the words. I would never say it aloud, not to these men and women, not even to Nolan, but I’m not sure our god is listening anymore. If he were, our people wouldn’t be dying faster than they’re being birthed.
“Two men from the neighboring farm have seen bear footprints in the eastern sector. We’ll head that way,” Jacob says. “Keep your eyes and ears open. They’re as hungry as we are. Let’s be the victors in this fight.”
I shudder at the thought of a bear hunt. Our last few hunts have been for deer or turkeys. Smaller animals mean less food to go around, but as weak as we are, a bear hunt could be the death of us all.
If we manage to bring one down though? We’ll eat like kings for the first time in weeks.
Moving quickly and quietly, we break up into subgroups. Nolan and I join Jacob, Josef, and the Tulle sisters, two middle-aged redheads with wickedly good aim. These are the people Nolan and I always hunt with because they’re the people I trust to have our backs if things go bad. Silently, the subgroups disperse, and my brother and I fall into step beside Jacob, who nods a greeting at me.
“Sage. It’s good to see you. How’s your mother?” he asks, his gaze remaining on the path ahead, though I can tell his attenti
on is entirely attuned to me.
“Angrier than usual,” I murmur.
Jacob barks a harsh, low laugh. “Aren’t we all?”
The weather is fine today, and I’m hopeful that means animals will be out. But for a long while, we walk without a hint of wildlife in the deep, overgrown woods around us. No rabbits, no birds, not even a farsing squirrel, lean and tough as that meat can be.
I hate this feeling of helplessness. All the animals are dying off, just as the people are. What good is my perfect aim when I have nothing to shoot at?
“There’s a trap just over this ridge,” Jacob whispers, nocking an arrow. “Everyone stay quiet as we crest the hill. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
“In order to get lucky, you need to have luck,” I grumble, but I nock my own arrow and post up beside Jacob. I can’t help but pray that a bear waits for us on the other side, though I’m definitely not praying to Zelus.
I kick away the hem of my skirt as I reach the final sharp incline, the muscles in my legs burning with effort. I hear nothing but the soft scuffing noise of my companions’ footsteps on the dirt and the puffing of their breath on the air. Holding my own breath, I step atop the ridge and angle my bow down toward the small cave where the bear trap awaits.
Empty.
“Nish.” Jacob’s curse carries no anger. Just a forlorn note that makes my heart ache, because I know exactly how he feels.
I drop my bow, releasing the tension in my stance as I do, and then nudge him with an elbow. “Well, we’re here. Let’s go make sure it’s still set.”
We parade in a single file line down the narrow dirt path. The ground levels out in front of the cave opening, and I walk carefully, my gaze fixed on the leaf-strewn forest floor.
It becomes apparent fairly quickly that we’ve lost the bear trap.
“Zelus curse it. It’s supposed to be right here,” Jacob says, hands going to his hips as he stares at the brush piled near the cave.
I use my bow to knock a few branches around, digging farther into the already dismantled pile. “Think something tripped it? Sent it flying?”
“That’s a possibility.” Jacob squints around the area as if he can make the trap reveal itself. Then he gestures widely. “Everyone, fan out. Pick out a solid stick, use it to push aside the brush. Don’t step anywhere without verifying the trap isn’t there.”
I toss my bow over my shoulder and pick out a thick stick long enough to keep my limbs clear. Nolan does the same, and we head off in different directions, sticks to the ground.
I’m lost in the monotony of the search, not far from the mouth of the cave, when I feel a shift in the wind.
My stomach tightens.
The hairs on the back of my neck rise, and I feel the malevolence, the hunger, a split second before a massive creature bounds out from the darkness of the cave.
“Bear!” I shout, dropping the stick and reaching for my dagger. I’m not in a position to go for my bow; the farsing beast is already on me.
I duck, jamming my dagger up into the bear’s thick hide as it arcs over me. The blade slices smoothly into the creature’s abdomen, and it roars, passing over me to hit the ground. I’m barely able to fix my stance before it recovers its balance and is on its giant paws again, its wild dark eyes fixated on me.
My team dives into action, yelling instructions to one another. The Tulles have a rope net they quickly hurl over the bear, but this beast is monstrous. He throws the net off like it’s made of lace and cobwebs, then rounds on them, snapping and growling. Jacob lands an arrow in the bear’s neck, while Josef spears it in the side. With another mighty roar, the bear flails toward the group.
Heading straight for my brother.
I leap after the shaggy monster, terror urging me to get to Nolan. My brother seems frozen with fear, rooted to the ground. I scream his name, and he shakes off the stupor, scrambling backward to get away from the advancing monster.
A metallic snap echoes through the deathly quiet forest, and Nolan screams.
Not a scream of fright, but one of abject pain.
He falls, disappearing behind the bear’s bulk.
2
No!
I launch myself onto the bear’s back, scrambling to get a handhold on his fur. The poor beast is as thin and starved as we are, his massive hairy frame hardly more than bone and skin. I haul myself up to its neck, pulling its attention away from my brother, who’s curled in a fetal position on the ground, blood pooling beneath his trapped leg.
With a ragged cry of rage, I jam my dagger into the bear’s eye.
The creature roars once more, its heavy footsteps trampling too close to Nolan for my comfort. I grip the bear’s fur and throw my weight to the side as hard as I can, urging the monster to fall away from my brother. We hit the ground, and I tumble off into the brush, rocks and sticks scratching at me.
Josef’s spear finds a soft spot beneath the bear’s belly, and Jacob uses his own dagger to slit the beast’s throat. The Tulle sisters throw the rope net back over the beast for safety’s sake, but it’s done. The beast’s blood coats the forest floor as its life fades.
I pray for a swift passage to the afterworld for a creature who’s seen as much hardship as we have. This time, I’m sure I’m not praying to Zelus; I don’t know who I’m praying to.
Farse it. Maybe I’m just wishing.
My heart pounds and fear sours my stomach as I scramble to my feet and race over to where Nolan lies on the ground. I reach my brother at the same time Jacob does. Nolan’s face is white as chalk, both of his hands hovering near his knee as if he’s afraid to touch it. The trap is embedded beneath his kneecap and has nearly removed the bottom half of his leg.
Swallowing the rising bile in my throat, I kneel, keeping my voice calm for Nolan, even though all I want to do is scream. “Jacob, help me get him loose.”
We’re careful, easing the violent claws away from his skin slowly. But Nolan’s sobs fill the forest, and his blood has made the trap slippery. By the time we’ve freed him, I’m shaking and sweating, and my hands are covered in my little brother’s blood.
Jacob and I lift Nolan between us. I tuck an arm around his lower back, while Jacob does the same under his arms from the other side. The idiot boy attempts to put weight on his injured leg and screams, going dead weight against us. I clutch at him, holding him up as hot tears spill silently over my cheeks for his agony. I swear I can feel it in my own body, and it mixes with my fear, making my stomach churn violently.
Jacob calls to the Tulles. “Kate, go find another team and prepare to bring the bear to the village. We have to get Nolan back.”
The tallest of the two sisters salutes him, palming her dagger as she races off down the path back toward the ridge. The other sister rips my dagger from the bear’s eye socket and holds it up. “I’ll bring this back for you, Sage.”
“Thanks, Ember.” My voice comes out on a choke. I know everyone can see me crying, and a part of me hates looking so foolish and weak. But we’re all weak these days. Maybe there’s no longer any shame in it.
I cling to Nolan, doing my best to give him comfort and praying he stays unconscious as Jacob and I begin the slow, painful journey back to the village.
My mother waits outside our small cottage. Some other member of our hunting party must have sent word ahead. Her hands are knotted in her apron, and her face is as white as Nolan’s. As soon as we appear, she races for us, a small, despairing moan passing her lips when she sees my brother’s mangled leg.
“Bear trap,” Jacob says gruffly, angling us toward the cottage. “It wasn’t his fault.”
As if that’s important.
But it’s hard to know what to say in an emergency like this, so I keep my mouth shut and hobble along beside him, straining to keep Nolan’s injured leg off the ground.
We enter the cottage, leaving behind the cool morning for the heat of the fireplace. Our cottage is spare—two rooms, one for sleeping, one for living. I take the lead
, passing the kitchen and entering the bedroom we all share.
Jacob leans over Nolan’s bed, letting his upper body slide gently to the sheets. I cringe and take his feet, angling them onto the bed to the stark sound of his screams. He’s been in and out of consciousness, and even though his eyes are open, I don’t think he’s fully aware of his surroundings.
All he knows at the moment is pain.
My mother bustles into the room. Her face is impassive now—she’s a healer, trained to deal with cases such as this, so it comes as no surprise to me how quickly she can shut off her emotions and do what’s necessary.
She sets a big bowl of steaming water on the table beside the bed, then pulls out a rag and wrings out the excess. “Jacob, could you comfort him?”
“Yes, Mrs. Thorne.” Jacob shoves a different rag into Nolan’s mouth and takes his hand, then angles his body to keep the boy from seeing us.
I hover over my mother’s shoulder as she begins examining the wound.
“I can see bone,” she says softly, her fingers probing the ragged tears in Nolan’s skin. “The trap cut deep, through tendon and muscle, but the good news is, I don’t think the bone is broken.”
I let out a long breath, gratitude rushing through me. I can’t quite bring myself to thank Zelus though. If he provided for us as a god should, we wouldn’t have been out in that forest today, and Nolan wouldn’t have been hurt.
“Thank the fates,” I choke out instead. “That trap should have shattered it.”
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