by Sadie Moss
I’m certain they’re not human.
“Stop!” one man yells, and another curses loudly before adding, “Don’t lose her!”
Then all three of them give chase, their heavy footfalls crashing after me into the thick trees.
All those hours spent hunting for my people hasn’t actually done anything to prepare me for a mad dash through a forest. I quickly realize now how easy our network of paths made it for me and my fellow hunters to get around. The undergrowth drags at my feet, and I sink into piles of brush as if it were peat. I leap over a dead tree only to catch the toe of my boot on another thick branch and nearly pitch over onto my face.
But adrenaline urges me on, surging through me as if it’s replaced my very blood. My feet bypass all obstacles, any slight miscalculation only stopping me for a brief instant. I’m running on pure fear, and it might be enough to get me away from my pursuers.
Then the landscape changes.
I stop short as the trees open up and the flat ground before me comes to an abrupt end. I could’ve sworn this break in the forest wasn’t here before, but maybe I was just too distracted to notice it.
My heart pounds in my ears as I quickly sweep my gaze over the area, trying to decide my next move. The ground pitches into a steep descent here, a sea of deep green trees rolling down the hill into a lush valley. Craggy mountains shadow the horizon beneath a sun so bright I can’t look at it.
Farse it. I have nowhere to go but down.
I step forward over the edge of the ridge, but it only takes a moment to realize my feet aren’t going to keep pace with the rest of my body. I fall into a tumble, my dress and hair getting caught on twigs and rocks as I roll down the hill. By some miracle, I manage to avoid slamming into any of the giant trees growing on the slope, coming to a stop at the bottom with my limbs and bones intact.
I only rest for a moment, long enough to draw a little air into my seizing lungs, then I’m back on my feet again, racing ahead. This time, however, I don’t hear any indication that the men are still in pursuit. They must not be as foolhardy as me—I don’t think they followed me down the hill.
A breathless smile crosses my face. True, I have no idea where I am. I’m still dead and stranded in a strange world.
But I got away.
Finally, I begin to slow my pace as the glittering surface of a river comes into sight. Sweat cools my skin as I sink to the ground and help myself to a drink of water that’s so crisp and refreshing it nearly makes me weep.
“I’d be thirsty too, after a tumble like that,” a deep voice says, amusement lacing the tone.
I jolt, water flying from my hands as I whip around in a crouch.
All three men stare down at me with varying expressions. The green-eyed warrior looks down his nose at me, arms crossed, face closed off. To his right, a tall, languid man with dark blond hair, stunning blue eyes, and sharp, angular features eyes me as if I’m his dinner, one hand resting on the pommel of the sword at his hip. The third man stands to the other side of the battle-hardened warrior. This man is smiling, his black hair ruffled, dark brown eyes twinkling. He gives me a funny little finger wave.
“We aren’t going to hurt you, little soul,” he adds, that same amusement still in his voice.
“Much,” the blond adds with a smirk.
The warrior shoots him a cutting look, then takes two long strides forward to grasp my arm. His hand is so large that his fingers meet as they encircle my bicep, and his touch sends a jolt through me, as if I had brushed up against fire. My eyes fly wide, and he hesitates for a moment, as if he felt the same shock I did.
It’s all the opening I need. Before he can yank me to my feet, I kick out and hook my leg around his, pulling with all my strength. He falls with a sound and ferocity that must equal that of a tree falling in a forest.
The black-haired man bursts into laughter, and the blond offers a lyrical, “Well, that’s new,” and then I’m running again.
But I’m out of energy this time around. My feet aren’t as sure, and my lungs still burn from my first flight through the woods. I consider throwing myself into the water and swimming for the other side, but the river’s current looks strong even from here. I don’t particularly want to drown and be the only girl in the universe to die twice in one day.
The men are close on my heels, all three of them pursuing me once again. The blond is nimble and quick, and because I’m slowing, he catches me with a single arm around my waist. He twirls me like a lover, practically dipping me backward as his arms tighten around me.
“Aren’t you a fierce little thing?” he drawls, his gaze burning into me.
“Let me go!”
I shove at him, but although he’s leaner than the big warrior, he’s still a solid mass of muscle. His grip is like iron around me, holding our bodies together as he turns to his comrades.
“What do we do with her?”
I wait until his attention is on the other two men, then I bring my knee up into his groin as if I’m trying to displace his man bits into his throat. He grunts, his grip immediately loosening, and I fall away from his grasp, turning on my heel to run.
Again.
The black-haired man positioned himself behind me, and now he steps into my path. He’s shorter and slightly smaller than the other two—still tall enough to tower over me, but at least I can reach his face with my fist. Hurling myself forward, I follow through with a punch that throws his head back, then duck around him.
But the warrior is there before I can take a single step. He lifts me bodily off the ground and slams me to the grass, holding me firmly in place by the throat. His hand is bigger than my face, and when he squeezes, I can’t breathe.
My fingers claw at his, and he loosens his grip enough to allow air to rush into my lungs. Panic is seeping through me like a slow moving poison, making my entire body prickle like a limb that’s fallen asleep.
Shoving his long brown hair out of his face with his free hand, the man glances at his friends. The blond is breathing deeply through his nose as his lips press tightly together. His face is red, and I can’t tell if it’s from fury or pain. Maybe both.
The black-haired man leans one hand against a tree, his other hand stroking his jawline where a red mark foreshadows the bruise I’ve given him. He notices the warrior glaring at him and says, “I think the little monster broke my farsing jaw.”
“She didn’t break your jaw. Stop being a child.” The warrior moves his gaze to the blond. “Paris, you all right?”
“I will be,” the other man grunts. He adjusts himself, wincing as he does.
“Good. I don’t know what this soul is doing out here, but we can’t let it—”
He never gets to finish that thought.
With the warrior distracted, I buck against his grip and aim a knee for his head. He swerves and my knee misses the mark, then he slams me back to the grass. The blow darkens my vision around the edges, and I struggle to maintain consciousness, both of my hands coming up to scrabble at his massive forearm.
The black-haired man joins us, hovering over me and leaning close. There’s a small hook halfway up his nose, as if it’s been broken before, and his grin is slightly lopsided. “She’s feisty. I like her.”
I smile back, though it’s more a baring of the teeth than anything else. The big man is still gripping my neck lightly, but I force out words anyway. “Nice bruise you’re going to have there.”
He caresses the reddening mark, his gaze never leaving mine. “I’ll wear it with honor.”
The blond, Paris, limps up to us, walking as if the entire area between his legs is the size of a horse. He winces, but manages to fall back into his cocky, devil-may-care stance anyway. “Brother, as much as I love a good chase, can we just subdue the girl already?”
I glare at the man holding me down so effortlessly. A breeze ruffles his thick brown hair as he stares at me, his gaze cold and calculating. I feel stripped bare by his gaze, as if he’s measuring me insi
de and out, weighing the odds, trying to piece me together like a puzzle. Finally, he looks back at Paris and the dark-haired man and nods.
Paris lifts a hand, fingers grasping at the air as if he’s grabbing something small and insubstantial. His other hand joins the first, pinching, and then he makes a circular motion with both. The other two men join him, mirroring his gesture, and all three of them move their fingers through the air as if they’re plucking at invisible harp strings.
Suddenly, my arms and legs are bound tightly to my sides by an unseen force. The warrior releases me, but it makes no difference. I’m unable to move even my pinky finger, as if ropes secure me from head to toe. I try to open my mouth to scream, to demand to know what they’ve done to me, but my lips remain firmly closed.
Paris kneels beside me, taking a lock of my light blonde hair between his fingers. His fingers move higher to my head, my face, then they drift lower, brushing down the column of my neck. Everywhere he touches, he leaves fire in his wake.
“Who is she, Callum?” he murmurs.
The warrior shakes his head and sits back on his heels in a crouch. His big body shouldn’t look so at home in the stance, but it does, large hands resting comfortably on his thighs, muscles bulging against his fitted pants.
“Lost, I’d wager.” His eyes narrow, and he speaks louder and slower as if I’m a child who can’t understand. “You shouldn’t be here, girl. What happened to bring you to this no-man’s-land?”
“She can’t talk, you lunatic.” The black-haired man chuckles, as if this is all a very funny joke. Then he waves a finger near my lips, and the force holding my mouth shut falls away.
Oh, nish.
These men are working magic. Honest to goodness magic. The thought sends a little thrill through me, a mix of both fear and excitement.
I know magic exists—everyone does. But we humans don’t have access to it. Much like I never saw a fairy before coming upon the sprites in the clearing, I’ve never seen magic performed until this moment. And even though it’s being used to subdue me by men who undoubtedly mean me harm, I'm wide-eyed with wonder.
“Speak, girl,” Callum commands. I have a feeling this hardened, stoic warrior man is the leader of their small force.
Unfortunately, I’ve never taken to being a follower.
“Farse you,” I hiss.
He growls. His hand shoots out so quickly it’s a blur, and he fists the front of my dress, dragging me off the ground until we’re face-to-face.
My heart lurches in my chest. We’re so close together that I can feel the warmth of his breath on my face and see the small flecks of gold in his green eyes. I’m uncomfortably aware that I’m draped across his lap. The broad planes of his chest press against my breasts, and the warmth and hardness of his legs feel like stone against mine.
An unexpected rush of heat rises within me, a flare so sudden and powerful it almost frightens me. My lips part slightly, the air hanging suspended in my lungs. I take a deep breath, attempting to push away the overwhelming feeling, but the action of breathing rubs my breasts harder against him.
Callum’s eyes grow unfocused. His penetrating gaze drops to my mouth, his nostrils flaring. He licks his lips, and for an insane moment, I think he’s going to kiss me.
Then he abruptly releases me, and I sprawl back to the ground.
“Brother?” Paris raises an eyebrow, his attention shifting from me to Callum and back again. “What is it?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing.” The huge warrior shakes his head as he rises smoothly to his feet. He jerks his head toward the dark-haired man. “Echo, get her up. We’ll take her to Kaius. Our god can decide her fate in the afterworld.”
6
Echo, the man with olive skin and dancing brown eyes, hefts me off the ground and tosses me over his shoulder like a sack of flour.
I let out an uncomfortable oof as I sag against his hard body. He may not be quite as massive as the other two men, but he’s still strong as an ox. These men are all obviously warriors of some sort, trained in combat and made of pure muscle and sinew.
That makes the bruise on his cheek feel even nicer to my ego.
“Do you even know where we are?” Echo asks, his voice rumbling through my torso. He sets off, my body jostling over his slightly with every step.
For a brief moment, I think he’s talking to me, but then Callum answers. “Yes. The terrain shifted a while back, so now we aren’t far from the north road. Maybe half a mile. We’ll take that into the city.”
I can’t move because of the magic they’ve bound me with, but since they removed the binds on my mouth, I can certainly talk, and words fall out of my mouth before I can stop them. Maybe it would be smarter to stay quiet, but I feel completely adrift, and I need some answers before I go mad.
“Can someone please tell me what’s going on? Where am I? What’s this city you’re taking me to?”
“Oh, now she wants to speak,” Paris says. I can’t see his face, but I can practically hear his eyes rolling. “Pity she didn’t have that brilliant idea earlier, before she decided to flee across the Unclaimed Expanse. My cock still throbs like a torgen.”
I don’t have any idea what a torgen is, but I allow a small smile to curve my lips at his words. It’s a small consolation now that they’ve got me bound and hanging upside down, but I made these men work for their victory.
“But where are we?” I ask again, twisting a little to try to get a better look around. Echo’s grip on me tightens, his hands gripping the backs of my thighs with a familiarity that makes heat rise in my cheeks.
Callum’s deep voice drifts to me from up ahead, where he’s leading Paris and Echo through the woods. “If you won’t tell us what you’re doing in this empty realm, girl, then we certainly have no reason to share anything with you.”
Annoyance flares inside me. “What reason do I have for telling you why I’m here?”
Paris’s face tilts into view, his blue eyes glinting in the sunlight. “If you did, perhaps we’d be able to figure out why you became lost and where we need to take you.”
A prickle of fear makes its way down my spine like a droplet of ice-cold water.
“You’ve said that several times. That I’m lost. What does that mean?”
He huffs and disappears from view, leaving me staring at the grass and shrubs that move past quickly as Echo’s strides eat up the ground.
“She’s stubborn as a mule. I ask her a question, and she comes right back with one of her own. Might as well tell her something if it’ll shut her up.”
Callum grunts. “You’re lost because your soul did not go where it should have. This area of the realm is a no-man’s-land—the Unclaimed Expanse. No god rules this swath of land, and it is dominated by untamed magic. Our own magic is more difficult to use out here, which is why it took three of us to bind you. Souls don’t end up here on purpose. Yours has been thrown off track somehow.”
“So this… is the afterworld? It’s true then?”
“Yes. Just as earth is divided into segments, each ruled by a different god, so too is the afterworld.”
“And you’re taking me to your god,” I say. It’s not really a question. I remember Callum’s words as if they’ve been burned into my brain.
Kaius.
I’ve heard the name, I think, but I know nothing about this god. My people worshipped Zelus, and that was that. We cared little for the actions and affairs of other gods or their people. I’ve never even met anyone from any of the neighboring territories. Each god’s portion of earth is large, and my old village is far from the border of Zelus’s domain. There are legends of wars between gods, but if history books have been written on the subject, none of them ever made it to my small town.
“Yes.” Callum’s voice is curt. Emotionless. “We will bring you to Kaius. He’ll know what to do with you.”
My mouth springs open again before reason can stop it. “I’m not an object to be ‘done’ with. I’m a person. Try to
remember that.”
Echo’s footsteps pause mid-stride, and I can feel a shift in his body, a slight tightening of his muscles. I can’t tell what it is or what it means, and for a moment, I think he might set me down—but all he does is hitch me higher on his shoulder and continue walking.
Neither Callum nor Paris respond to my words either.
For the next long while, the three men effectively ignore me as they fall back into comfortable conversation. I suppose I’ve worn out my allotment of questions, though to be sure, I count myself lucky they even answered the ones I asked. Especially considering I still haven’t answered any of theirs.
I can’t see much of our surroundings as I dangle over Echo’s shoulder, especially with my body bound so tightly. We leave the trees and lush grass behind after a time, and the ground beneath his feet becomes barren and dusty, a color like dried blood that reminds me of the sacrificial altar.
At that thought, every moment of the ritual comes crashing back into my mind, and I wonder how the farse I ended up in this place.
Was my sacrifice even worth it?
Will my family and my village be safe for a time now?
Echo trips over a rock and a cloud of red dirt billows up into my face, dragging me out of my thoughts and sending me into a coughing fit. He pats my ass, as if that’s going to help, but none of the men stop to ask if I’m all right. They were frustratingly determined to catch me, but now that they have me, none of them seem to care about my well-being at all. I wonder briefly if it’s because I’m nothing more than a “lost soul,” or if they’re not worried because it would be impossible for me to choke to death in the afterworld even if I tried.
After all, I’m already dead, aren’t I?
Could I die again?
Nish, I still have so many questions.
The landscape on either side of us grows more and more barren as we walk. Withered leaves hang from gnarled branches, and the undergrowth is nothing but dead ivy and brush. The grove where I arrived was at least green like the woods back home, but here, it’s as if nothing living can survive at all.