Kid awoke to the slamming of the door. His eyes snapped open. A man’s voice roared in the distance. “Mother!”
Kid sat up and groaned. Every muscle in his body ached and he had a pounding headache. He glanced at his arms and found splotchy bruises covering their skin. Then the memories of last night came back to him in a rush. His skin crawled and he pulled his knees to his chest. Marc told him to die and he damned near did. He fought to get his breathing under control, then looked around him. He was in somebody’s bedroom, woolen sheets wrapped about his legs. Distant voices echoed beyond the closed door of his room.
The scraping of a chair drew his attention. Kid turned his head just in time to see Lissa throw her arms around him, tackling him back into the bed.
“You’re up!”
“I’m up!”
“You’re up!”
“I’m up!”
Her exuberance brought a smile to Kid’s lips and he held her tighter. She broke off the hug and hopped back to her feet, letting him sit back up. She grabbed both of his hands and danced a little jig.
“How do you feel?”
Kid grinned. “Much better.”
She pulled him to his feet and he groaned at the aches in his muscle. It felt as though every single one had cramped overnight. He supposed they may very well have. He had slept hard enough to put the dead to shame.
She put an arm around his waist, helping to steady him. “Come on, let’s go show everyone you’re okay.” Her smile was infectious.
“Thank you,” Kid whispered.
“For what?”
“I think you might have saved my life.”
She scrunched her nose and shook her head. “No, my dad did that. I just helped warm you up.”
“Still, thanks.”
She got him into a fresh shirt then opened the door to a small hall abutting the stairwell downstairs. In the room across from his, Kryll was lying on his back, twitching in his sleep and trilling softly. Lissa released Kid, a mischievous smile lighting her lips. She scampered into the room, knelt next to the beast, and tickled its soft underbelly.
The Keeper sprang to life with a shrill trill, it’s stubby legs flailing. Kid stared in horror as it grabbed Lissa with its great clawed hands and pulled her to its chest. Kid stumbled forward on awkward legs, franticly thinking of how to save her.
The Keeper rolled over with her in its arms, snout poised above her face. Then it began to lick her face. Lissa struggled in its grasp, laughing as it’s tongue searched her face. Kid stumbled to a halt before them, uncertain what to do about the three-hundred-pound monster licking his friend.
Kryll’s tongue flicked back into its mouth and Lissa raised her head, kissing it on the snout. The Keeper’s nose waggled back and forth, then it licked her one more time as it released her from its death grip. Kid stared at the thing as it waddled to the far side of the room and lay back down, it’s stomach hidden by the floorboards.
Lissa hopped to her feet and returned to where Kid leaned against the doorway, his heart still racing. “You’ve gone mad.”
Lissa wiped at the spittle with her hand then tousled his hair. Kid wrinkled his nose and batted her slimy hand away. She grinned. “I’m not the one who tried to swim to Tara.”
Kid conceded the point with a huff. She took him by the arm and lead him to the stairwell, helping him descend the steps. As they crossed the threshold into the parlor below the voices became more distinct.
“So, you’ve plotted with the leader of the fucking sons behind my back? do you have any idea how many people have died? I watched two dozen of my brothers die today and Reaper knows how many southerners.” A man screamed. Kid didn’t recognize him, but he was dressed in Thorne colors and had an axe at his hip. He leaned against the dining table as if standing straight pained him. Even wounded, Kid shied away from him. His wrath radiated danger the way a fire gives off heat.
While the man let off a string of curses, Lissa leaned over to Kid. “That’s Edgar, Melna’s son. We like him.”
Kid raised an eyebrow at her. “We do?”
Edgar finished his tirade and let out a low wheeze, falling into one of the table’s chairs. He panted, shame creeping into his visage. He looked down. “I’m sorry”
Melna nodded and walked to her son, taking him into her arms. Kid noted she wore gloves. While they embraced, Kid’s eyes flicked to James who looked as if he were trying to melt into the wall.
Melna spoke in a soft voice, “Don’t blame the Sons for killing your brothers. Blame the lord who sent them to kill their kin.” She released Edgar. “He led your father to the same fate and I fear he’ll throw you away just the same.”
Kid didn’t dare breathe and had a strong urge to creep back up the stairs. Edgar looked up to his mother. “I received the Briar today.”
Melna turned from him and there were tears in the corners of her eyes. “Then I’ve already lost you.”
“Mom,” the man whispered, grabbing her by the hand.
She yanked her hand from his grasp. Edgar stared at the hand that had touched hers, then his gaze slowly drifted to the hand he’d touched. The right hand, the one Kid saw withered as bone.
“Take off the glove.”
Melna shook her head, not looking at him.
Edgar leapt to his feet, grimacing as though in great pain. The veins in his neck bulged as he grabbed Melna by the wrist and tore off the glove. Skeletal fingers greeted them, the skin stretched and pale. Melna balled her dead hand into a fist, trying to make it less noticeable.
“Let go of me.”
She needn’t have said anything, Edgar fell to the ground as if she had struck him with a physical blow. He stared dumbly up at her as she walked over to where he had thrown the glove. Lissa released Kid and raced down the stairs, beating her to where it had fallen. She knelt and picked it up for the woman.
Lissa held the glove and with her other hand, touched Melna’s skeletal fingers. She winced at the contact, then she slipped on the glove.
“Thank you darling.”
Lissa looked up at the withered woman with wide eyes, “You’re dying.”
Melna graced her with a sad smile, then stroked her hair with the healthy hand. “I’ve known you such a short time, but your intent and intuition never fail to impress me.”
Lissa didn’t answer, only wrapping Melna in a tight hug. Kid eased his way down the stairs. The creak drew Edgar’s attention, the man’s dull eyes drifting to him. He looked like he was in shock. Kid walked past him to where Melna stood. “Thank you,” he whispered, unable to speak louder.
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She turned to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “There is no need to feel bad. It’s the fate of all healers and I’m not dead yet so stop acting like this is a funeral.”
Kid nodded, then jumped as the door slammed behind him. He looked over his shoulder. Edgar was gone. Melna looked to the closed door and sighed.
James peeled himself from the wall he was leaning on. “He’ll come around. He’s just upset.”
Melna nodded slowly and sighed. “I know he will. What will you do now James?”
A sour expression took over the man’s face, his eyes drifting over to Kid then to Lissa. He ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t sit back and watch what’s happening anymore but-”
“I’ll take care of the girl,” Melna interjected.
James’s eyebrows raised. “You want my daughter?”
“I need somebody to pass my knowledge to.”
“She’s not god-touched.”
Melna shrugged. “It matters little. Her intent is strong, and she can draw power from the altars, same as me. Besides, one does not need power to stitch wounds, prevent infections, give birth and the thousand other things people so desperately need help with here.”
Lissa turned to her father, excitement shining in her eyes. James looked uneasy and Kid shared his misgivings. She hadn’t seen the ritual. He couldn’t imagine her holding that knife. James opened his mouth to speak. “I don’t know.” He turned to his daughter. “Are you okay with this>
Lissa nodded. “Uncle Marc goes too fa,r and you know you’re the only one who can do anything to rein him in.” She walked to her father. “He already took mother from us. Don’t let him take anybody else.” She looked to Melna. “We can take care of ourselves.
“Aye, nobody else,” James whispered, “This is what you want?”
She nodded fervently. “Then so it shall be.” He turned to Melna. “I leave her in your care.”
A small smile broke through the woman’s turmoil as Lissa skipped to her side and took her hand. “And what will you do James?”
James looked at his scarred hands, each missing a finger then clenched them into fists. “See my brother.”
“I’m coming.” They all stared at Kid.
“Are you mad?” James asked.
“Probably. But, I can’t sit here doing nothing.” His eyes darted to the picture of the reaper on the wall. She held out a blade, pommel first, as if in offering. A white grin split her shadowed face. Shivers ran down Kid’s spine. “I’m tired of running.”
James frowned at him for a moment. “I’ll protect you son.”
Kid froze but James didn’t seem to notice. It was the first time a man had ever called him that. “I’ve got to fetch a few things from the tavern. Take whatever preparations you need.”
James walked to his daughter and scooped her into his arms. “I love you,” he whispered.
Lissa held him tightly and burrowed her head into his shoulder. James smiled and after a moment he put her down, nodded to Melna and walked out the door. Kid followed him, catching the door just before it clicked shut. He pushed it open, cold air rushing against his face. As he stepped through the threshold into the gloomy light of the cloudy day, a hand caught his. He looked over his shoulder to see Lissa following him outside.
The streets were quiet and those who ventured outside walked with a hurried step, heads shadowed beneath their hoods. Lissa pulled him to the side of Melna’s house. “Don’t go.”
Kid swallowed. “He’s taken everything from me. And I can’t let your father go there alone. He’s been good to me.”
“Marc tried to Kill you.”
Kid frowned and looked at his feet. “You have no idea what he’s put me through.”
Lissa grabbed him by the head and forced him to look her in the eyes. “I was happy before all this. I had a family and we got by okay, not great but okay. But I knew I’d wake up in my own home, surrounded by people I loved. This pointless fight between north and south is destroying that.” Her voice started to crack. “My family is too caught up in it to escape, but Marc thinks you’re dead. You can get out. You don’t have to leave me.”
Kid let out a shaky breath. “I-” He was cut off by her lips being pressed to his, a gentle pressure. Kid was so shocked, that his mind barely registered it before it was over, and she clung to him. He wrapped his arms around her.
“I’ll stay.”
Her grip around his ribcage became tighter, the pressure approaching pain. When she finally released him, he fought to cover the wheeze escaping his lungs. Her smile was radiant. Kid couldn’t help himself, he walked up to her and kissed her again. He had to stand on his tiptoes.
Her giggle was infectious and soon they were both laughing. When his laughter subsided, Kid looked up at her. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”
She pecked him on the cheek then whispered in his ear. “Then maybe you should have.”
He blushed as she took him by the hand. “Let’s go back inside.”
Kid shook his head. “I have to check on my mother. I’ve left her alone for too long.”
Lissa’s smile wavered. Then she nodded. “Then we’ll go. Together.”
A nervous feeling welled up in Kid. “You don’t have to-”
She put a finger over his lips, silencing him. “Together,” she said with finality.
Kid nodded, his gut twisting with trepidation. “Okay.”
He led her from around the side of the house and down the street. In the distance, he could see James walking. The man moved as if millstones were tied around his legs. The dread was almost palpable. “Is your father okay?” Kid asked.
Lissa nodded. “There’s nobody stronger in the world.”
Kid hoped she was right as they walked down the street, hand in hand. His own feeling of dread creeped up on him slowly like the growing darkness of night as his home drew closer. As James disappeared into the tavern down the street, Kid and Lissa stopped before his home. She squeezed his hand. Kid let her go and approached the door.
It was quiet inside. No visitors. He pushed the boarded wood open. The hinges creaked as he stepped inside. Kid thought he would be ill from what he saw. Life had long since fled the fire. Not even its embers glowed. His mother was curled up in the ashes, as if struggling to find the last vestiges of warmth. Vomit crusted her lips and her glassy eyes stared across the room.
He ran to her, falling to his knees. His hands shook as he touched her. The flesh was as cold and hard as ice. He then realized the glassy look in her eyes wasn’t from the spice but from the small crystals forming inside them. Kid gasped, finding it hard to breathe. The overwhelming feeling washing over him was not grief or sadness, but relief tinged with guilt. What kind of son couldn’t find it in him to mourn his own mother?
A small hand touched his shoulder, but he shook it away. He didn’t want to be touched. He looked across his mother’s body, to the hands that had caused him so much pain, to the lips who poured honey and vinegar in equal measure. The same hands who warmed him at nights when he couldn’t sleep in the frigid air. The same lips, once full of life that were now as white as snow.
His gaze drifted past her head to where a small pouch sat on the ground. Kid numbly rose to his feet, staggered to it and took it into his hands. It was heavy. He undid the drawstring and looked inside. The gleam of gold greeted his eyes. The money Marc had taken from him. Kid shook, and it was not from the cold. He screamed and threw the pouch against the wall. Coins exploded across the room in a shower of gold. His breath came in ragged gasps. Marc was here, and he left her like this.
A burning anger he didn’t think he had in him washed through his veins. He knew in his heart that he hated that woman but the idea that he left her-
Memories washed over him, of her hurting him, taking his hard-earned coin, throwing him on the street for a customer, calling him her little prince. It was all just a game to her. Before he knew what he was doing, his feet began to pound her icy flesh. Unintelligible curses and cries were ripped from his lungs as he pummeled her.
“Kid,” A voice cried. Hands pulled at him and he shook free. He whirled on whoever dared interrupt him. His open palm crashed against Lissa’s face.
Kid froze.
Lissa stumbled backwards, tripping and falling to the ground. She clutched her face, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. she removed her hands and a trickle of blood ran from her lip.
Kid ran. He burst through the door in a panic, racing down the street.
She cried for him to stop but the pain in her voice only drove him away faster. He ran, tears blurring his vision. He dodged through what little foot traffic there was. Ramshackle buildings towered over him, their shuttered windows staring at him accusingly. He didn’t know how long he ran. Hooded faces followed his path. Their dull, dead eyes, too much like his mother’s. He couldn’t bear the sight and closed his eyes.
His feet pounded the ground, then he missed. In his astonishment, Kid opened his eyes. He was falling. The ground met him with a sharp taste of mingled dirt and iron. He rolled down the incline, far from the road he had started on. When his flailing limbs came to a halt, he felt sand beneath his hands. He crawled to the sound of crashing waves, almost wishing James hadn’t pulled him from their cold embrace.
He looked across the grey waters, their rising waves crashing across the beachhead. The incoming tide almost reached where he knelt before the water. Gulls circled overhead cawing as if nothing had happened. The thought that the very world hadn’t broken beneath the weight of his pain seemed inconceivable. Yet the ocean carried on, it’s waves inexorably crashing before him. Kid pressed a hand into the wet sand, watching as the water washed it away.
A glimmer in the water caught his eye. The waves carried it closer then drew it away over and over. He staggered to his feet and walked to where it shined. As the wave carried it in he stepped into the water. The memory of last night sent shivers down his spine but he carried on until he was up to his knees. Kid reached into the water, hand burning like fire from the salt. He wrapped his hand around the hilt of his dagger, drawing it from salt and brine. The steel gleamed even in the dull light.
He clutched it to his chest as he staggered from the waves, a chill settling into his legs. It hurt but not so bad as last night. Kid fell to the sand and held the dagger before his eyes, the dagger he killed his first man with. The length of steel that made him a man. It was all he had left.