The Aching continued for the rest of the day, growing and burying vast swathes of land like a madman rearranging his own guts. None of us wanted to watch it, yet the only alternative was watching either the sky or the crater – both dormant and inscrutable. We sheltered from omnipresent, cutting wind in the shadow of a large rock, huddled together for warmth as we basked in the little sunlight that deigned to visit us, beneath the fields of clouds above.
There could be no rest, either; our loose mound of boulders was far from stable, and the knowledge that we could need to stagger to another pile to avoid being shaken off at any moment made closing our eyes an exercise in mental fortitude. But there was nowhere else to stay.
Across the crater, the cloaked warriors – the Seeds – occupied their own hills, clustered into five groups of roughly equal size to our own. While we ate and drank and shook the older people and children awake, they did the same to their peers. But their eyes rarely left us. When the sun began to fall below the horizon and the quakes finally started to settle, they departed without a word. The land below still shook gently as we watched them vanish into the Heartlands.
Little remained of the scenery we’d spent the better part of a month moving through. The hallmarks of the Heartlands remained: the ubiquitous crimson colours of plants; the way the branches of trees zealously grew through one another, dripping red sap; the dogged journeys of insects and rodents, still seeking the same things as before; the omnipresent speartrees, cutting through it all like towers of ice in a blazing volcano.
It was all through an environment we couldn’t recognise. The ground no longer resembled earth: its contours were layered with plates that seemed as if they’d been ripped straight from a beetle’s hide. Each plate curved slightly upwards, giving us the impression of rolling hills of ribs. Alongside tangled bushes and scraggly shrubs, covering the surface of the dark chitin were fine red strands of what from a distance seemed like grass. On closer inspection were revealed to be almost cloud-like in their consistency. They drooped under the weight of the small spheres at their peak.
Amongst it all, Kani’s forest was eerily unchanged.
Baylar’s pursuit had dominated our minds since they’d first found us. Overlooking the alien landscape, the House had become completely irrelevant. Gone were the fields of tallgrass, biting the legs of whatever walked amongst them. Gone was the River Ien, its clear waters redirected in another direction entirely. Past the horizon, we knew the remnants of the village and farmstead we’d fought and died in would be buried beneath the ground; at least we’d managed to send the ashes of the dead into the sky. But what mattered most was that any clear paths or signs of our passing had been eaten by the Aching. Whatever remained of Baylar’s forces could no longer catch us.
So we waited until the rumbling stopped then descended from our perch. The moons lit our first tentative steps upon the new earth. When the chitinous ground remained unbothered by our passing, we continued with slightly more confidence. For a few minutes, we gave the new plants a wide berth, but Jana – lack of sleep slowly glazing her good eye – soon called the rest of us ‘over-cautious fools’ and began forging through alone. The rest of us followed.
Despite our exhaustion, we did not sleep. There was an unspoken agreement between all of us that we would find a patch of unbroken stone to sleep upon – somewhere sheltered from the bitter cold of early Frost. The only people to gain any rest were Wil’s two infants and the man himself, carried in shifts by either Ronnie or…
Me?
Vin?
Gast?
Or was it Kit?
I-
----------------------------------------
-eyed Vin sideways, still carrying the seizing body of Wil. As it had since he’d returned, his gaze stubbornly avoided my face. My hand twitched for the hilt of a sword that was no longer there. The drummers I’d fought wielded either stone hatchets or bizarre bone-spurs sprouting from their arms – nothing to steal. Vin’s onyx blade had cut them apart beautifully. Were he a stranger, I would’ve fought him for it.
The nomad kid had scooped up a good, Owlforged blade – I’d have to figure out a way to swipe it without Vin getting tetchy. It had been over a decade since I’d walked around without a sword on me, and it was already putting me on edge. I’d been thinking about all the ways I could beat the snot out of every member of the group – everything from the noise their feet made on the ground to them snorting snot back up their nose set my teeth grinding.
Except Maddie. You didn’t hit a grieving person – not unless you were one yourself. I just wished she’d let herself sob louder.
My finger grasped for a hilt that was no longer there, and I growled loudly, breaking the silence we walked through. “What in th’ blood happened to sleeping beauty up there?” I asked Vin.
“Godsblood,” he intoned.
I threw up my hands. “What damn Godsblood?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, ducking under one of the eerie drooping plants, still refusing to look at me.
“Yer serious?” Disbelief tinged my tone. “How d’you not know? What – he get it from a damn puddle?”
“That’s correct.”
I blinked. “Really? What kind o’ idiot drinks stuff off th’ ground?”
Vin snorted. “That’s what…” His brows furrowed. “…I… said?”
“You askin’ me?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m alright. I’m alright.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You sure? I could take ol’ empty skull off yer hands for a bit.” I didn’t want to carry the man – I hadn’t so much as exchanged a word with him. But Vin had.
Jana’s voice pierced from behind us. “We oughta just dump him in a ditch somewhere. He’s dead weight.”
Though part of me agreed, her nagging tone had my lips curling. “Sure; we gonna dump the kid an’ th’ babies, too?”
I heard Wil’s kid inhale sharply. The old woman’s response had him breathing easy again. “Of course not. That’s a terrible suggestion.”
I snorted. “It’s a very you suggestion is what it is.”
I glanced backwards, to find Jana’s burn scar had gone taut as she scowled. I’d learned early in life that that expression meant trouble. “Oh, the thug wants to lecture on morality?”
My hackles rose. “Better a thug than a slug like you,” I snapped back. “Lazy bastard; sittin’ pretty while thugs go an’ bring in food.
“Is that what caring for two children – children not my own – is to you?” Crumpet was asleep in Ronnie’s arms, but Tippi flinched. “I would trade places in a heartbeat.”
“They’re in our care,” I spat, “they’re our kids.”
She sneered. “Girl, if they’re anyone’s kids, they’re mine. The amount of parenting you’ve done could fit in a thimble.”
My mouth worked. It’s true; I had considered it her role. But she was almost sixty, and I was barely twenty. It made sense.
“No response?” She shook her head, smug enough to make me want to cut it off. “If only you had the wit to back all your barking.”
Something bitter soured in my gut and rose to my tongue. “Shut up, you shrivelled old whore.”
Jana drew in a breath, then held it. A moment later, she released it in a muted, empty chuckle. She said nothing.
Immediately, my own words fell over my head like a bucket of cold water. Truth had driven them deeper than they should’ve. I swore quietly at myself. An apology lingered on the tip of my tongue. But without turning to Jana or anyone else I felt as if I could see myself through their eyes: tall, whipcord lean, and savagely volatile. A thug. So I swallowed my ‘sorry’, and turned my head away.
My eyes found the sky, where heavy clouds slowly subsumed the moons. Snow slowly fell from above. Though it seemed filthy with the darkness of night, when the first flake finally reached my hand it was cold and pale as ghosts.
“We need a place to sleep,” Vin suddenly said.
I scoffed. “I don’t want to sleep on this godsdamned ground. Do you?”
“It’s not about wanting. We won’t get further without rest.”
“I could walk forever.”
Without looking at me, he shook his head wryly. “I’m not talking about you.”
I glanced backwards, and immediately understood. We weren’t leading a line of warriors or hardy farmers. We had children, old people, a mother, and one very fat Strain; none of whom were prepared for a march.
As I watched, Davian stumbled next to us from further back. He’d been watching our rear. “We’ll freeze.” His hands were tucked into his armpits.
My striding backwards and forwards through the line had kept the chill only skin-deep. But the only other people not shivering were Vin and Ronnie. Even Yowler, cradled in the giant Strain’s arms, shook beneath his greying fur.
The large man looked at the older Strain. “We’ve no reason to avoid making a fire. There’s plenty of wood, and I doubt many of our Baylarian pursuers survived the Aching.”
“You have no way of knowing that,” Davian stated forcefully. “It’s far more likely that they found a shelf of stone and settled atop it.”
Vin shook his head. “There were no warning rumbles for this Aching. Usually there’s a few, but this one came hard and fast.”
“It may have radiated outwards from this point.”
Vin cocked an eyebrow at the Strain. “It doesn’t matter. There are no paths to us, and they’ll be busy with other things, tonight.”
Under the Lizardblood’s quizzical gaze, Davian withered. “You are correct, of course. However, any routes to our destination are gone as well. As are landmarks, and any relevancy our maps used to have.”
Vin expression didn’t change. “That’s a problem for tomorrow. We have time, now.”
Silence threatened awkwardness, so I filled it with a question. “How’d you know there’s… ‘warning rumbles’ for Achings anyway? You can’t be much older’n me.”
“What are you…” Vin paused, then frowned. “It’s… common knowledge.”
Maddie’s flat voice cut from beside me, and I flinched slightly. “It is. How do you not know- “ She noticed my surprise, then snorted.
“What?” I stuttered, feeling blood rise to my face. “What’s so bloody strange, huh?”
“You jumped,” she replied.
“Yeah, well, you’d jump.”
“At me.”
I groped for an excuse. “Your voice is loud.”
“I’m more than a head shorter than you.”
“Makes you good at sneaking up on people.”
A large grin broke across her face. It quickly wobbled and fell back into a tight line. “A camp. Davian; could you find a sheltered place?”
The old man nodded, whirlpool face making his expression incomprehensible. He quickly walked away.
“Vin, could you get some firewood?”
The Lizardblood had a small smile on his face. “Of course, Head Maleen.” Vin bowed slightly, then began moving towards one of the larger shrubs around.
For a moment, Maddie looked like she was going to start crying again. I gave her a quick slap on the shoulder.
“You’re doin’ good,” I told her.
Her face crumpled, and she wrapped her arms around me. I glanced around for help, but everyone else around was too busy groaning as they slumped to the dirt. All I could think to do was lightly pat Maddie on the back as she sobbed.
----------------------------------------
My fingers adjusted around the neck of my lute as I ran through an escalating series of notes. To my ears, the fractions of a moment between each sound seemed agonisingly long. If the sensations of the gut-strings weren’t muted by the callouses covering every inch of my hands – remnants of blisters from decades of sword-drills – maybe I would’ve already produced the smooth, soaring songs that hung in my head. They were Father’s songs – half-remembered – or ones I’d made up myself. But each time I tried, they always stuttered. My fingers had grown too distant from music to play.
A few months ago, that was enough to have me smashing the instrument. I kept plucking anyway. The lute was a gift. The crackling of burning wood and Gast’s snoring seemed inconsequential against the silence filling the outside world. If I stopped playing, it might bury us.
Stolen story; please report.
I puffed a cloud of smoke from the side of my mouth. A cigarillo perched between my lips. It was my last one – I’d been saving it for a special occasion. But when I thought about it, a last cigarillo seemed like nothing special anyway.
Davian had found a chunk of red chitin that tilted at an angle as it thrust from the ground, thick material supported by the speartrees that ran it through. After leading us to it, he’d immediately retreated out of eyeshot – apparently to take the world's longest dump – then returned to collapse beside the fire with a pained grimace. Tippi, Crumpet, and Jana had passed out the moment we’d rubbed a fire together, alongside the pair of infants and kid Wil lugged about. The man himself twitched and sweated on the ground beneath a blanket. Even though they’d fallen asleep halfway through the process, I’d admired Willow and Daisy’s dogged determination to shove food into their mouths before sleeping. Gast hadn’t even made it to the shelter – Ronnie and I had carried her in.
I envied their sleeping forms. Closing my eyes yielded a vision of the earth cracking open beneath our feet; consuming us in a single bite. I refused to let myself sleep until we were on solid stone. Even then, I wondered if I’d be able to.
Vin, Maddie, Ronnie and the nomad kid – Taja – all seemed to share the same thoughts. We stared at one another over the fire.
“You four sleep,” said Vin. “I’ll keep watch.”
Out of the five of us, he appeared the least tired. I would’ve envied his Lizardblood, were it not for the fact I was certain it’d make me even stupider. “Go stick yer head in a beehive.” I leaned back, my fingers slowly working their way towards an actual tune. “I’m not sleepin’.”
His eyes turned towards the other three.
Ronnie signed something.
Vin squinted. “Did you just- “
They nodded, a cat-like grin stretching across their infantile face.
“What?”
The large man shook his head. “Ronnie just said the exact same thing you did.”
“Ha!” With my hands occupied with the lute, I had to use my feet to give the Strain a slap on the back. Flecks of dirt migrated from my socks to their overcoat, which I chose not to comment on.
“Head Maleen?” Vin asked.
“Go…” Her lips twitched. “…Stick your head in a beehive.”
“Taja?”
The teenage boy licked his lips. “I would not tell you…” At Vin’s amused gaze, he quietly inhaled. “Go stick your head in a beehive?” His words trailed off.
“Ha!” I stopped playing to point a finger at Vin. “Better find some buzzin’ an’ follow it.”
He threw up his hands, but I could see the lopsided smile creeping up his cheeks. “You stomp all over my goodwill.”
“Yeah,” I drawled, “an’ I’d do it again.”
That spurred a mild chuckle, but wasn’t enough to stop the conversation from grinding to a shuddering halt. I trailed my way through the beginnings of a simple song I’d long since forgotten the name of.
In my own skull, I remembered the way Whip had slowly tallied our supplies with deathly concentration, and the way Whip suddenly guffawed when she comprehended a joke. I remembered when I’d first insulted Whip moments after being introduced to her, and how she’d ignored the immediate insult I’d given her, and I remembered how she’d asked me to hum a tune while she died. I remembered that I hadn’t even noticed when she’d died.
I didn’t remember her parents, or past, or life, or who she was. I didn’t remember much at all.
Words escaped my mouth before I thought them. “So, uh, where’re y’all from, anyway?”
Maddie let loose an explosive fit of coughs. “What?” she managed.
I resisted the urge to retreat. My fingers, filled with quivering energy, strummed the lute faster. “As in, where… Uh… What’re your… lives… like,” I finished lamely.
Ronnie signed something short. “Cold,” Vin translated. “About the same with me.”
“I’m warm,” said Maddie.
I chuckled. “You’re close enough to the fire I’m concerned you’ll turn into one yerself. Course you’re warm.”
Vin’s eyes flicked towards Taja. Noticing the gaze, the teenager blurted, “I’m fine.”
Before the large man could reply, I shook my head. “You know that’s not what I meant. Tell me somethin’ about you.”
The giant Strain’s finger curled so quickly the image of a chewing rabbit came to mind.
“Give me a moment, Ronnie…” Vin squinted. “Warrior… House… I don’t know that one.” Ronnie mimed slumping. “Fall?” They nodded. “Then, Owlblood?” Ronnie shook their head, and signed something else. “Magic?” The Strain moved their fingers close together. “Spell. Enchantment.” The fingers drew closer. “Curse.”
Ronnie nodded.
I restrained my laughter in favour of an indignant tone. “You’re tellin’ me you’re a godsdamn cursed House warrior kicked outta the House.”
Ronnie signed something else.
“Noble?” Vin tentatively translated. “Yeah, noble.”
I stopped playing and scoffed. “Shut up.”
The Strain slapped their knee, eyes closed in silent laughter.
“I’m serious,” I protested against Ronnie’s muted wheezing. “Feels like I waited half a year for Vin to translate Oxdung like that. Godsdamn it.”
Taja gave a quiet snicker.
“You shut up. Or, give me somethin’.”
He paled. “What do you mean?”
I searched my mind for the thing I wanted. “Where’re you from? Why’re you here? Tell us, so we can’t forget.”
In the corner of my eye, I saw Vin sit straighter. When Taja turned to him, his eyes were pits of darkness.
“I…” The teenager’s voice choked. “It was Malee.”
“Your brother,” muttered Maddie.
“Mm.” He nodded, then rubbed each of his eyes. “We had no parents. Raven cultists got them, before I could remember. Malee rushed manhood, so he could take care of us.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“A coming of age ceremony for boys,” Vin supplied. “A few tests: hunting; camping; lore – that sort of thing. Specifics change from tribe to tribe. Usually taken at fifteen or sixteen.”
Taja nodded, staring into the fire. “He did his at thirteen, I think. Laja was ten. I was a baby. They were more parents to me than anyone else. But they were not my parents.”
We stared at him. He covered his eyes.
“When Malee remained unmarried, in the absence of a mother the elders took it upon themselves to arrange a match. She was a kind lady. He said no, though. He said… he could not love her in the way a husband must love a wife. That he couldn’t love any woman that way. And…” Taja voice quavered. “The elders said he didn’t need to – he could take whatever type of lover he wanted on the side – and he just needed to make a child and a family. He thought that was cruel, though. They kicked him out, and he told us to stay, but we went with him.
“There was a group going to the Heartlands, because Heltia needed workers. Gatherers, hunters. Nomads are good at that, so we went with them. And then we got stuck in Spires, and you were a way out. And that’s why.”
Taja leaned down, curling in on himself. “I thought Malee was so stupid. I thought Laja was so stupid for making us go with him. I didn’t at first, but,” he stuttered, “but then I did, when we were hungry and sleeping in the cold. And I, I…”
Ronnie shuffled around the fire to sit at the youth’s side. Gingerly, they wrapped an arm around Taja’s shoulders as his body shivered silently.
“That’s how it goes,” Vin said gently. “You hate the people you love.”
Part of me couldn’t comprehend. The last corpse I’d ever wept for was Father, back when I was nearly a decade younger and weaker. Taja’s silent sobs reeked of weakness. Try as I might, I couldn’t bring myself to loathe him for it.
Silence encroached upon our small gathering. I cleared my throat. “Maddie?”
She exhaled. “There’s not much to know.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
I leaned forward. After a pause, I spat, “Really?”
Her teeth grated together. “I don’t know what you want- “
“I want to bloody know you.” Vehemence set my words afire. “All of you. Is that so hard to believe?”
“No, but it’s- “
“Jus’- “ I shook curled fingers ineffectually. “Work with me.”
Maddie’s arms drew a blanket tighter around her small body, ginger hair cascading over the top. Beneath the dirt and grime, her skin was as smooth as a child’s. Yet unlike Vin, her jade eyes managed to meet my own.
They rolled to the slanted chitin jutting above us. “Tell us about yourself, first.”
I froze.
She raised her eyebrows. “It’s only polite.”
Ronnie shot me a piercing stare, then nodded.
I looked to Vin for assistance, but he was squinting into the darkness. “Uh… I don’t want to.”
“If you want something from us, that’s the price. It’s only fair.”
I rubbed a piece of dirt from my forehead. “Y’won’t like me for it.”
“Then you get nothing.”
Ronnie made two vehement motions. When no translation was forthcoming, they leaned over and tapped Vin, where he stared into the distance.
He blinked. “What is it?”
The Strain repeated the gestures. Vin clenched his eyes shut, opened them, and began interpreting. “Without… I don’t know that one.”
Ronnie pointed a finger at an invisible person, face contorting in feigned anger.
“Argument?” Vin guessed. “Criticism. You mean ‘no criticism’.”
They nodded.
“That goes for all of you?” I asked, then pointed to Maddie. “Especially you?”
The others nodded – even Taja, whose flushed face preceded him extracting himself from Ronnie.
“As long as it goes for you as well,” said Vin carefully.
That was met with a chorus of approving grunts.
I clicked my tongue. “Fine. Whatever.” Running a hand through my short hair, I sucked air through my teeth. “Where’s a good… Y’know what? Ain’t gonna tip-toe into this. I was part of th’ Jackal’s Get.”
Maddie’s voice was low and careful. “…The bandit gang?”
“No, I was birthed of an animal,” I drawled. “Yes the bandit gang.”
“How did you become one?”
“Born one. Where I lived; Where I thought I’d die. We lived twixt our little walls in th’ middle of th’ woods, and we hunted beasts an’ we hunted people. Times were lean.”
“What makes a person decide to do that?” Maddie asked, as if it were an actual question.
I scoffed. “Not a belly full o’ kindness an’ good will towards th’ world.” After a brief pause, I revised that statement. “We did get some nicer members, towards the end – when starvation drove ‘em to us. But mostly you start robbin’ cause you’re strong an’ willin’ to use it.”
“…How many people have you killed?”
“Dunno.”
Before Maddie could speak, Vin interrupted. “How old were you for the first?”
“Uh… Eight or nine?”
“How did you manage it?”
“Mother brought him.” I lowered my head, recalling it. “Tied him up in th’ middle, where I usually was. Everyone watchin’. Kid a few years older than me. He had a sword, I had a sword, an’ I was better with it.”
I heard Vin mutter a swear.
“What kind of parent would make their child do that?” Maddie’s voice cut like a knife to the heart.
“Shut up!” I exploded. “What in the everything good ‘n green do you know – about anything?! Swaddled up in yer tower; Dinner served on a godsdamn silver platter. You couldn’t tell blood from wine, little princess that you are. She did what she did for me. For me,” I repeated, quieter. “To keep me from bein’ like you.”
Vin spoke. “Kit- “
“What?” I snapped.
“Would you say you’re similar to your mother?”
I frowned. “Not really. I look more like Father did, anyway.”
He snorted. His eyes were fixed to the darkness and slowly growing wider.
A snarl scratched across my face. “What?”
He glanced back towards the fire. “Nothing.”
“No,” I spat. “What’s so damn funny?”
“…Just sounds like wishful thinking, is all.”
“What’s that s’posed to mean?”
He shrugged. “Your mother and I are probably more similar to one another, anyway.”
“What?” This time, the question was wrapped in legitimate confusion.
Vin’s tone was almost silent, yet harsh all the same. “I made my child kill someone, too.”
“You have a damn kid?!”
He blinked. Then blinked again. The large man’s face twisted, then he shook his head.
“What’re you talkin’ about?”
“I mean,” he quickly responded, “my mother did something similar to me as well.”
“See?” I turned to Maddie. “It’s not so bad.”
The young Head’s expression tightened. “…I don’t- “
“Anyway, the gang got caught an’ I got outta there with Jana an’ the kids. I exhaled sharply. “Your turn.”
For a moment, she remained silent. “Do you regret it?”
My cigarillo was half-burned. I plucked it out of my mouth and ground it beneath my boot. “No. Your turn.”
“People starved because of you.”
“They starved because of them.”
“We starved- “
“Your turn.”
“- because none of the caravans arrived at the city. None of this would’ve been- “
“Your damn turn, Maddie.”
“- half as bad if you stopped stealing what we- “
“Please,” I interrupted her, voice breaking apart like a crumbling dam.
Her words stumbled to a halt.
I swallowed. Then rubbed my eyes.
“Your turn,” I managed.
Maddie stared at me. After a moment, she sighed. “Okay, Kit.”
I cleared my throat, trying to recover some of my dignity. “So, uh. You… born in Spires?”
“Yes. We’re not meant to leave Nests often, but myself and some of my cousins spent a lot of time in the… upper parts of the city.”
Myself and the others nodded.
“⬛⬛… I still spent most of my life in Nests. There’s a l⬛t- “
“You ⬛ Strain?” I asked.
“⬛⬛?”
“Whaddaya mean, no? Owlblood House, right?”
“Oh. ⬛⬛⬛ ⬛⬛⬛ ⬛⬛⬛⬛ become an Owlblood when you’ve given birth.”
“Neelam too?”
“⬛⬛. ⬛⬛‘⬛ ⬛⬛⬛ great grand-uncle.”
“⬛⬛⬛.”
“⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ ⬛⬛ ⬛⬛⬛⬛ ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛, ⬛⬛⬛ ⬛⬛’⬛ ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛- “
----------------------------------------
“- unconventional,” Head Maleen was saying.
“Dunno what kind of education makes Owlbloods.”
My attention was elsewhere. On the wilderness surrounding us.
Between the rolling plates of chitin, shrubs, strange plants, and speartrees, something twisted in the air. Was it delicate, pale spiderweb, caught in the light of the moon? Or the weaving of fireflies, made into a silhouette by the human mind? As I stared, I understood it was neither. A distortion: light flickering where there should be none. I clasped my hands together to still their shivering.
My mouth opened, then closed. Eventually, I mustered the courage to rip the bandage away. “Does anyone else see that?”
Their conversation petered away as they squinted into the darkness. Kit; Maleen; Taja; Ronnie: no comprehension lit their gaze. My stomach sunk.
Then their eyes adjusted to the darkness. Kit stood up, reaching for a sword that was not there. “What is that?” she whispered.
I wasn’t hallucinating. That meant…
“It’s a ghost.”
Taja’s lips barely moved as he spoke. “Vin, what do you- “
But I was already standing and moving outside the firelight.
“Vin!” Kit hissed.
“I’ll be fine,” I told her.
With measured steps, I drew closer to the phantom. Each step brought a little more clarity to its form; yet its form itself possessed no clarity to begin with. I tried to impose sense upon the ghost, and repeatedly failed. A shape that could’ve been a hand, a paw, or a wing flickered, then fell away. I couldn’t discern whether it was the spirit of an animal, human, or monster.
It was as if someone had taken a mirror made of faint light and shattered it in the air, where it remained suspended – holding a broken reflection despite its original having left long ago.
There was only one thing I could do.
“Before humility and before Houses, before certainty and before security… there was Blood.” I spoke to the drumming of my thumping heart. “And alongside Blood came gods. Dure the Lizard, Enn the Ox, Kani the Fox, Siik the Spider, Wump the Dolphin, Yoot the Owl and Avri the Raven… and Eval the Shrike.”
“The gods are wild and full of secrets – yet through this Face- “
I reached for my mask and found it absent. My hands patted my waist, and when my eyes fell upon an empty pouch I remembered that my Face had been rent into a thousand pieces.
I looked back, and the ghost was gone.
When I returned to the fire, the others dismissed what we’d seen. They made excuses. I listened as they continued their stories and eventually, as conversation drained their last reserves of energy, they fell asleep.
I held vigil alone.
When my-
----------------------------------------
-dreams transitioned into wakefulness, it was to the gentle sounds of chords being plucked.
The cold morning light fell on my eyes, reflected by beads of ice hanging from a nearby plant. I rubbed the grot from the corners of my eyes with thumb and forefinger. Though my back was warm from proximity to the faltering embers of the fire, my face felt so chilly I could barely feel it. I rotated my head – feeling my stiff neck crack – and found Maddie huddled at my side.
Carefully, I extricated myself from her grip, and rolled out from underneath the blanket. The frigid air consumed every remnant of my fatigue, except the dull throbbing behind my eyes. I’d been the last to sleep, and the unfortunate beam of light meant I’d been the first to wake.
The music was a fair amount more amateurish than my own, but though the notes faltered they were clean and smooth. It took me a moment to find where it was coming from.
Vin sat apart from everyone else. His eyes glanced up, and for the first time since he’d emerged from the crater he met my eyes.
“Kit. Did I wake you?”
“Nah. S’nice.” I rubbed my eyes. “Thought you didn’t know how to play.”
“I’m still not very good.”
An insult rose in my throat, then faded.
“But,” he continued, “it’s only been a few months since I began.”
“You wanted to impress someone or somethin’?”
When he grunted his affirmation, I was shocked enough I nearly fell.
“Who?”
“I mean, you spend so much time together, and it just kind of falls into place. We were in the same situation. You eat together; sleep together; march together; fight together – a pearl’d fall in love with a pig, in conditions like that. Not that she’s a pig. She’s…” His voice trailed off. After a moment, he frowned – brow scrunched in concentration. “It was…”
A chuckle escaped me. “Memory failin’ you, old man?”
“No!” he snapped. “No. I know this. I know this.”
Vin’s fingers fumbled a chord, then froze. His features were perfectly still, apart from his eyes – quivering like kids hiding from some god.
For the first time, I noticed that while one of his pupils was brown, the other was pitch-black. How had I missed that?
Vin’s breathing grew more rapid.
“You alright?”
Like children peeking behind a curtain, his eyes slowly fell downwards. They found the lute in his lap.
He screamed.