ZINNIA

The wheel of the cart bounced upwards as it hit a large rock, and Zinnia slammed against the wall. She winced, sliding back into the seat, and growling in frustration. Most of the afternoon had been spent rubbing the ropes encircling her wrists on the edge of the wooden seat. It barely frayed the thick ties, but she had seen a wisp of smoke rise and hope had rekindled in her chest. Now all that work was gone in a moment because the dumb rogue knights couldn’t drive.

“Hey! I have to pee!” she yelled, pounding on the side of the cart.

“Yeah right, we aren’t falling for that again.” The driver kicked the wooden wall with his heel.

“I’m telling the truth this time,” Zinnia said. There was no reply. The decorative bead she wore in her hair bumped against her cheek. She flipped it back and let her head fall against the wall. Her eyes traveled around the cart for the hundredth time, hoping she missed a loose nail or weak spot in the boards, but no such luck.

Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander, hoping an answer would come to her if she stopped thinking about it. The next time she opened them, the cart had stopped, and it was pitch black. The only light was the flickering of the fire shining through the crack of the door.

“No. No, no, no.” Zinnia jumped up and ran to the door, digging her fingernails into the crack to pry it open. It wouldn’t budge. How could she let herself fall asleep? They could be close to the Seaside Port now, and if she didn’t find a way to escape, they were going to sell her into slavery.

An owl hooted, and Zinnia glared at the top of the cart as if it personally mocked her. With no other options, she set to tearing at the rope with her teeth, chewing through a single strand at a time. She made more progress than she had all day, but it would still take most of the night to get through. She drowned out the low mumbling of the knights, focusing on her task, and it was only when the bugs of the night stopped chirping that she noticed the owl hadn’t made a sound in some time.

Zinnia lifted her head and listened, goosebumps rising over her arms. Aware of how loud she breathed, she clamped a hand over her mouth. Something was out there.

The knights came to the same conclusion at the same time. Swords rasped from their sheaths and their voices all but disappeared. The only sound was the crackling of the fire. Zinnia didn’t move, every fiber of her being focused on the rising dread in her chest.

A man yelled. Steel clanged against steel. Zinnia screamed into her hands as something huge thumped against the side of the cart, rocking it dangerously. Someone screamed, and it cut off with a gurgle. The scream echoed through her head as everything went quiet again. She crouched in the back corner, breathing hard. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she stared at the door.

Something blocked the firelight. Wood scraped against wood as the bar locking her in lifted. She pressed herself against the wall, praying for the thing on the other side to go away. The door creaked open. A giant hooded figure took the place of the door.

Zinnia’s eyes widened, and she forgot to breathe as tears streamed down her cheeks. The figure swiveled its head, and she found herself gazing into eyes unlike any she had ever seen. Crystalline, they almost took on a light of their own, reflecting back to her through the darkness like a cat.

Calm filled Zinnia, any fear she held fleeing her body. She had nothing to fear from this stranger. They extended a hand, watching her with those expressionless eyes. Gauntlets covered a pale white hand, fingers curved gently over a weird symbol on their palm. It drew her in, and she reached with her own hand and clasped it.

A burning sensation seared her palm, and she cried out and tried to pull away, but her hand was stuck. The stranger didn’t take their eyes off her as he opened his mouth and chanted, “Mahk sa je nāk ras lȳr, mahk sa rūkah shīī je ym jut.”

Zinnia struggled, but her heart wasn’t in it. The pain was already fading to the back of her mind. When the burning ended, she allowed herself to be pulled from the cart. The figure was two hands taller than her and wore a mask, covering all but those eyes.

“What’s your name?” The voice growled from beneath the hood. It was deep and guttural, definitely a man’s voice.

“Zinnia,” she said, her voice hoarse.

The man narrowed his eyes.

“You’re a girl.”

“Nothing gets past you, does it?”

He grabbed her bonds and twisted her into the firelight. Zinnia hissed at the pain but didn’t struggle.

“Rahk.”

Zinnia didn’t understand the word, but it didn’t sound friendly. He let go of her with a grunt. She glanced at him and flipped her palm. A dusty gray half circle with a dot in the middle covered it.

When she next looked at the man, he held a dagger with a blue hilt and swirls on the blade. She started, but all he did was hold it out to her.

“What’s this for?” she asked, not taking it.

“You have to kill me.”

“What?!” Zinnia stumbled back, shying away from the blade.

“You’re a girl, and I’m a Ghost. Sitting in the dark in dirty trousers and your hair cut short, I mistook you for a boy and branded you with the Ghost Rite. Girls can’t be Ghosts.”

She had heard the term before, but couldn’t remember what a Ghost was. “And why not?”

“Because the ritual would kill you. Now take it.” He shook the dagger.

“And what would killing you accomplish?”

He sighed, dropping his hand. “It’s the only way to release you from the contract. Otherwise you are stuck with me, bound by the Rite. There are only three ways to break it. I die, you die, or becoming a Ghost, and the last two are not options.”

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“Why not kill me?” Zinnia bit her lip, hands pressed over her chest.

“I’m not heartless. Just get it over with already.” He held it out again.

Zinnia stared at it, then glanced at him. “How about a fourth option?”

His eyes hardened, and she thought she saw something dark swirl behind them. “And what do you suppose that is?”

“I come with you, not to become a Ghost, or whatever, but just as a traveling companion. I have food, if the knights didn’t eat it all.” She pointed to a satchel lying by the fire just behind him.

The stranger watched her for a long time, but she held his gaze. With a huff, he flipped the dagger, sliced through her bonds, and tucked it into a sheath on his thigh.

“Keep your food, Zinnia. I don’t need it.” He whistled, and a horse as black as night clopped out of the shadows. He climbed on and looked down at her. “If you come with me, there are rules you absolutely must follow. And I mean must.”

She nodded, picking up the satchel and doing her absolute best to keep from looking at what remained of the knights. The third must have been what hit the cart. Zinnia hurried to the Ghost, and he dropped his hand. For the second time, she took it, and he pulled her onto the back of the horse.

“The Rite is separation sensitive. Go too far away from me or Kūma here, and pain beyond your wildest imagination will start in your chest and spread throughout our bodies until the distance is closed or you die of the pain. Next, no one must ever know I branded you, especially another Ghost. They’ll kill you.”

Zinnia swallowed and curled her fingers over the mark. “I don’t want that.”

It was silent as they trotted through the dark. Sunrise was still some time off and the gentle sway of the horse was making Zinnia tired. She laid her head on the Ghost’s back. He stiffened, but said nothing.

“I told you my name, what’s yours?” Zinnia asked, closing her eyes and yawning.

“Eldin.”

“Why are you out here, Eldin?”

“I could ask you the same.”

Zinnia chuckled. “I was looking for supplies when the rogue knights took me by surprise.”

When Eldin didn’t reply, Zinnia allowed sleep to take her.

***

“Where are we?”

The sun had risen and Zinna opened her eyes to find a field of grass stretching as far as the eye could see. She sat against a pillar of stone with a black cloak draped around her. Looking around for Eldin, she found him sitting on top of one of the pillars, silhouetted by the sun.

“We’re at the Broken Hand in the middle of the Windview Plains.”

Zinnia stood up and stretched. The cloak dwarfed her, falling in folds around her feet. Taking a better look, she realized the stones sticking out of the ground weren’t pillars, but fingers. A curved thumb protruded off to her right and two fingertips lay haphazardly on the ground.

“Why are there fingers in the ground?” She wrinkled her nose and held Eldin’s cloak up to him.

“I haven’t come across the answer yet.” He took the cloak, whipped it around his body, and settled it across his shoulders.

Zinnia watched the Ghost as she ate a handful of nuts, pulled from her satchel. He sat perfectly still, his feet crossed and arms wrapped around his knees. The sun turned the field of grass golden, making waves in the light breeze, but it seemed to bend around Eldin, leaving him in a perpetual shadow. She glanced at his face, wondering what lay under the mask.

“So, where are we going?” she asked.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Do you know anything?” The first finger with the broken tip was just low enough for Zinnia to haul herself up on. She sat facing Eldin.

He watched her, head tilted a degree. “Much of some, less of others, but I learn more every day.”

“I thought Ghosts were some sort of assassin, not philosophers.”

His eyes crinkled. Zinnia thought he was smiling, but couldn't quite tell.

“Ghosts are whatever people need us to be. Sometimes assassins, sometimes thieves or forgers, but we are also guards. We rescue people. Some don’t have a mean bone in their body. It’s just a job that chose us.”

“Hm.”

A howl turned both their heads, and Zinnia’s blood ran cold. She no longer felt the sun on her arms as a second joined in, and another, until an uncountable number of the blood curdling howls filled the morning air.

“Dire wolves.” Eldin’s eyes scanned the grass and his horse pawed at the ground nervously.

“This far south?” Zinnia asked, shrinking against the statue.

“They’ve been migrating farther and farther south each year, but this is the farthest I’ve seen them.”

“What do we–” Zinnia screamed as a wolf nearly the size of Eldin’s horse careened out of the tall grass and leapt at her, teeth bared in a snarl and claws outstretched.

The world darkened as Eldin appeared in a crouch before her as if from thin air, his hand held in front of his chest in a two fingered sign. A wall of wreathing darkness expanded behind him. The wolf smashed into it and fell to the ground with a yelp. Growls came in all directions, and Zinnia noticed muzzles pushing their way from the grass to surround them.

Eldin mumbled something, stood, and fell backwards from the finger. Zinnia cried out, reaching for him, but he disappeared in a swirl of shadows, reappearing in front of the closest wolf, a short sword in hand. As it attacked, he rammed the sword through its mouth and out the back of its skull. Blood and skull fragments burst outward, painting the grass red.

With a twist of his cloak, Eldin slammed into another, throwing it against the thumb. Something cracked and the wolf whimpered. A growl brought Zinnia’s attention back to herself. Behind her was a black dire wolf, larger than the rest. Its eyes glowed yellow and drool dripped from its teeth.

“Eldin?!” Her voice squeaked. A ripple passed through the wolf's haunches as it crouched, ready to pounce. It leaped forward, bounding once, twice— Zinnia screamed. As its feet left the ground, a dagger sailed through the air and slammed into the side of its head. The lifeless body thumped against a finger and bounced to the ground.

The rest of the wolves disappeared back into the grass, leaving them alone once more. Zinnia couldn’t slow her breathing. It came in quick gasps.

“Are you okay?” Eldin materialized next to her.

She nodded, covering her face with her hands. “In my entire eighteen passes, I’ve never been so scared.”

“This won’t be the first scary thing you run into while you are with me. But the upside is you’re with me. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Zinnia peeked through her fingers. Eldin watched her with intense eyes, standing still as a statue. She slipped off the finger and wrapped her arms around him. The pat on the back he gave her was awkward, but she didn’t care. He was the first person to show her any warmth since her father died.

A shadow flickered in the corner of Zinnia’s eye and she looked up, alarmed. Shadows curled and danced around them like smoke.

“What’s going on?” she asked, keeping close to Eldin.

“I’m being summoned for a job. Kūma.”

She trotted over, and as soon as he grabbed the reins, the shadows reared up, and the world around them disappeared.