Master Bran finished before I did.
The scythe in the pile was quite sharp and took both zombies' necks in one swing. I retrieved my sword and fell in step behind my master. We still had to clear the cave.
My master snapped his fingers and a spark of flame covered his fingers. It wasn’t the best light but could be used as a fireball in case a zombie was in hiding.
The cave wasn’t as deep as some that we had cleared out in the past. I had been inside one cave that could’ve held the entire city we had just come from. Most of the Bokor had been with us during that clearing. Rumor had it that a rogue Bokor had tried creating a zombie army. I hadn’t seen a rogue Bokor, but there had been a lot of zombies.
“Boy.”
I pushed the memory out of my mind. Even by my master’s side, it was dangerous to be distracted in a zombie nest.
There wasn’t much in the nest. The bodies of two guards, a sleeping pallet for the Touched mother, and a moaning person under a blanket were all that there was.
Master Bran extinguished the flames in his right hand. He grabbed the corner of the blanket and pulled it back.
The person looked almost dead. A mild case of being infected would just cause flu symptoms. A full-blown case was something that few people recovered from. Those who died came back as zombies, and those who lived were either Touched and cursed to feed off of magic for the rest of their lives or Bokor and drafted to become hunters.
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This woman didn’t look like she was going to make it. Fear screamed out of tired eyes. She knew she was dead and was afraid of what she was going to become.
“Master?” I asked.
He held up his hand and kicked at the sleeping palate. Once he was certain there was nothing else in the cave, he knelt down next to the woman.
My master pointed at the black streaks on her neck, “She’s transitioning.”
I sucked in a deep breath and choked on it. Zombie stench was thick in the air.
My master pulled out his sword. The blade glowed soft purple as he slid it through her heart.
Relief replaced fear as she closed her eyes for the last time.
He used the bottom of her dress to wipe the blood off of his blade. He sheathed it without a word.
My master stood up and walked to the mouth of the cave, “Take care of it.”
I nodded. I knew what I had to do next, but was confused.
“Master?”
“Yes?” He replied, but didn’t turn around.
“Why did you kill her? I stared at my master’s back, “Wasn’t she making the transition.”
“She was becoming Touched.” The answer was firm, “She would have lived for a few years, but eventually, she would’ve gone crazy.” He spat on the dirt, “Thinking that those things are her children.” He shook his head, “I spared her that pain and someone the trouble of putting her down later.”
My master glanced over his shoulder, “Make sure you hurry. I want to be behind the walls before sundown.”
I watched my master walk away. It was harsh, but he wasn’t wrong. Touched always went crazy.
I took my knife off of my belt. Like my sword, it was a steel blade with a heartstone in the hilt. Unlike my sword, this blade wasn’t for cutting necks. This blade was for harvesting hearts