Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

MAEVYTH

“ A leysia! Aleysia! No!” I raced across the yard toward the Vonkovyan soldiers, who dragged my sister by the arms, while she kicked and screamed. “Leave her alone!”

Her dress had been torn at the sleeve with their rough handling, her hair falling out of the braid she’d worn earlier that morning. “Maevyth!” she cried out over a sob. “Please don’t let them take me!”

As I came upon the first soldier, I swallowed back the fear climbing my throat and instinct took over. I swung out, my knuckles knocking into solid body, sending a shooting pain up through my joints. “Leave her alone! Leave her!” A hard shove to my chest sent me flying backward, and I tumbled onto my backside in a bruising hit.

Spears of icy adrenaline pulsed through me, and I scrambled over my skirts, pushing to my feet again, and charged toward him.

The moment I was upon him, he reached out and grabbed my throat, trapping the air. I clawed at his hand, eyes on the other guard, who shoved Aleysia into the carriage. Desperate, I yanked the paring knife from my dress pocket and, without aim, stabbed his forearm.

The guard let out a growl, and as soon as he released me, I bolted for the carriage. A fiery pain struck my scalp, and my body flew backward at a hard yank of my hair. The guard pulled me against him, his bloody arm pressed to my throat.

“Take me instead!” The sharp-edged words scraped across my dry throat, as I screamed them in desperation. “Please! I’ll take her place! I'll take her place!” The view of Aleysia disappeared, as he spun me around and hauled me across the yard toward Agatha, Lolla, Uncle Felix, and Uncle Riftyn, who did nothing to save my sister. Nothing.

One, hard blow to my back, and I flew to the ground before them, the force of his fist knocking the wind out of me. Writhing against the cold dirt, I wheezed, failing to draw in enough air. Twinges of panic exploded through me, the view shrinking. Until, at last, the first small breath forced its way into my lungs. I coughed and retched, the vacuous hole in my chest slowly expanding on each breath. When I finally turned over to my side, the carriage had begun down the road.

“No!” I rasped, crawling, clawing at the dirt to get to my feet.

Still fighting for air, I gasped, tears blurring my eyes while I watched the carriage disappear over the hill.

Hands grabbed for me, and on a scream, I swatted them away, but they wrangled me into the tight grip of my two uncles.

Kicking and slamming my heels in the dirt, I fought to get loose, as they dragged me backward.

Agatha stepped toward me, and for one, brief moment, I caught a flash of what I mistook as sympathy in her eyes. I stilled for a moment, tears blurring her form. The moment the tears broke away, I realized it wasn’t sympathy, at all.

A cold, sharp smack smarted my cheek. “You are an embarrassment. Both you and your whore of a sister.”

Rage tore through me, and I spat in her face. Through a hard shake of my arm, I felt the bruising squeeze of Uncle Riftyn’s grip.

“Do not make it worse!” He dug his fingers into my arm in warning.

I turned to him, teeth grinding. “You did nothing. You let them take her. And you did nothing!”

Another smack struck my jaw, that one all knuckles and bones, sending a flash of light to the backs of my eyes—not from Agatha, but Uncle Riftyn. A zap of pain shot to my sinuses, my jaw throbbing.

“Take her to Moros,” Agatha said. “I’ve washed my hands of the both of them.”

H ands and ankles bound in tight rope, I lay on the floor of the carriage, my head tormenting me with the visuals of Aleysia being dragged away. Tears streaked down my temples, pooling onto the floor beneath me. The copper scent of blood filled my nose, my cheekbone and split lip throbbing from the ache of Uncle Riftyn’s hit.

I hadn’t bothered to peer up at the window once on the ride over, but as the carriage rolled to a stop, I broke from the mire of thoughts at voices outside the carriage. Moros. And the head servant I’d met.

“Gather her bags and get her settled in her room,” Moros said in a stiff and dispassionate tone.

The door swung open, and Uncle Riftyn appeared, his downtrodden expression telling me he might’ve felt a small bit of remorse for earlier. Beside him, Uncle Felix stood without a speck of emotion, his countenance as dead as those of the corpses he carved.

When Uncle Riftyn gripped my bound ankles, I kicked out at him, knocking him back a step. He growled and gathered my feet again, giving a hard yank. The wooden floorboards scraped over my skin with the sting of slivers, and he lifted me out of the carriage, throwing me over his shoulder like a lifeless sack of flour.

“Remove her binds,” Moros ordered, and Uncle Riftyn halted, carefully setting me down on the gravelly path.

“She attacked the Vonkovyan soldiers. It’s why we bound her up like this.” Uncle Riftyn lowered to his knee and went to work on the knot at my ankle. By god, the moment he set me free, I’d give him a swift kick to the face.

“Wouldn’t you, in her position?” Moros asked, and I glanced up, mildly surprised, his comment dragging my attention from the rope that’d bitten so hard into my ankles, I could hardly wiggle my toes. “Surely, you would have, given your responsibility in the matter.”

Uncle Riftyn cleared his throat, and the second the rope slipped free, I hammered a kick to his chin that sent him flying back into the dirt.

A thrill of victory washed over me, watching him roll on the ground, cupping his mouth, from where blood trickled out.

“I bit my fucking tongue!” he rasped, and Uncle Felix snorted beside me.

I lurched for him again, but at a grip on my shoulder, I turned to see Moros standing beside me.

“That won’t be necessary. Come with me, Girl. I’d like to show you something.”

“I want to see my sister,” I countered.

“See her, you shall, but first, follow me.”

I lifted my bound hands for him, to which he offered a slight smile. “Perhaps we’ll leave those bindings in place.”

Whatever small bit of relief I’d felt a moment ago fizzled away.

He walked toward the manor, glancing over his shoulder. “Come on.”

With another brief glimpse of Uncle Riftyn clambering to his feet, I followed after Moros, though not because I trusted him. After what had happened to the Lyverian girl, I’d neither forgive, nor trust him, at all. I followed only for the promise of seeing my sister.

Once inside the manor, he led me past the kitchen to a stairwell, beyond the mudroom and storage pantry. The sight of it stirred both curiosity and trepidation, but I followed him, anyway. We descended into an enormous, open space, like grandfather’s wine cellar, but with higher ceilings and the glow of light. I turned to see a lamp blazing a bright blue.

“Azurmadine. Found in the caves of Sawtooth. When burned, it gives off a magnificent glow,” he said, as we passed.

I’d never laid eyes on anything more compelling than that light, but I didn’t bother to say anything in response, my mind anxious and desperate to see my sister.

I wanted to ask him why he’d killed the Lyverian girl. Why he’d beaten her so cruelly, as I was certain he’d been the one to put those bruises upon her, but I didn’t dare say anything to offend him right then.

A wall to the left of me, made up of dozens of small niches, housed glass jars of varying sizes. A closer inspection on passing showed unusual creatures held within–a snake with two heads, a tiny octopus, strange looking wings, a brain, a skinned rat, and what looked like a fetus. Oddities I would’ve found disturbing, if not for the distraction of my sister.

She was all I could think about right then, and the brewing frustration of every wasted minute weighed heavily as he led me down the corridor.

We rounded a stone wall to another partition of the cellar, and once inside, my heart ground to a halt.

An impossibly bright light glowed from a glass enclosure that was filled with water and almost reached the ceiling. Within the tank, two figures swam about, their arms propelling them, giving the impression they were human, but their legs appeared bound together, as if attached. Bits of strange-looking cloth dangled from their feet like loose fins, their faces covered by masks attached to tubes.

The tubes connected to a box, where another glass enclosure held some sort of accordion structure that contracted and expanded, releasing a boisterous whoosh each time it collapsed. I studied it, my mind puzzling the scene. The accordion moved like a lung. Air. Air feeding the masks.

“What is this?” I asked, my chest tightening the more details I took in–the tiny stitching between their thighs and the shells that did an inadequate job of covering their private parts.

“A bit of a collection.” Hands behind his back, he walked to the other side of the tank, facing me from that angle, his eyes beaming with a sickening fascination. “When I was a boy, my father took me to a fair, a traveling band of filthy nomads. I was intrigued by one of the exhibits, though. A collection of curiosities. Taxidermy, and jars filled with strange little specimens, like you saw on the wall a moment ago. There was also an exhibition of biological rarities they called The Freak Show . And that was the first time I laid eyes on the mermaids. Deliciously mysterious women said to inhabit the sea and attack ships.” He ran his fingers over the glass, staring at the women as if mesmerized. “I was enamored with the idea of these dangerous, wild women. I wanted to capture one. Tame it into my own little pet. I was a little disappointed to learn that the women at the fair were nothing more than a parlor trick. So, I decided to make my own collection.”

Nausea twisted inside of me like poisonous worms in my belly. In that moment, I decided Uncle Riftyn and even Agatha were far less terrifying.

“When I came across a Lyverian village, I took notice of two sisters, not much older than you. They ran half-naked with spears and rage. Wild as boars. My god, how I longed to break them. So, I made a deal with their father. I would spare their village. Their people. So long as he gave me his daughters. Of course, he refused, as any good father would. But he came around once we’d slaughtered his wife and two of his sons.”

“You’re a monster,” I whispered. I lifted my gaze toward the women, whose palms were plastered against the glass, the strands of macerated skin that’d peeled from their raw hands floating around their fingers.

His dark chuckle echoed around me, sending a wave of terror down my spine. “Yes. I suppose, to some, I am a monster. Let your sister be a lesson. Wild and unruly women have no place in this world. You’re meant to be tamed, or put down, if necessary.”

“I want to see her. You told me I could see my sister.”

“You will see her. At the toll of the bell, my dear, she will stand before The Eating Woods. And you will watch as her vibrant spirit is broken by fear. You will look upon her face and remember the remorse burning in her eyes.”

Copper hit my tongue as I bit my cheek, desperate to hold back tears. I refused to let him see the effect his words had on me. How they stirred a cold and hollow panic in my gut. “You clearly do not know my sister.”

“If only I’d had the ambition to take her, as well. I would have added her to my collection of magnificent creatures. Come. I have another to show you.”

“I don’t want to see it,” I spat back.

“Oh, but you must! It is perhaps the most fascinating of my collection. And I suspect you’ll appreciate this one.” He lurched toward me, and I took a step back, but he swiped up my bound hands, giving a hard yank.

With reluctant steps, I followed after him, wriggling my wrists to get loose as I caught one more glimpse over my shoulder of those poor women.

He led me to another room, where snarls and growls bounced off the walls. From the shadowed corner, something watched us. “You remember the good captain who sat next to you at brunch? The one who groped you under the table?”

A loud clank of chains answered in response, the sound of them scraping over the cement floor. A figure shot out from the shadows, and once in the flickering blue light, I took in its grotesque form. Fear knotted in my chest, squeezing my lungs, as I trailed my gaze over the terrifying deformity. It stood bent forward, its spine sticking up through the skin in spikes that reminded me of a lizard. Half its face had melted into a blank canvas of skin with no eyes, nose or teeth. The other half was a sunken eye socket, a deformed nose, and a skull jaw with teeth sharpened to points. Milky white skin served as a translucent barrier to the map of veins that pulsed with each pump of its heart, which protruded through its skin.

Jaw agape, I could scarcely breathe as I took in its monstrous form.

Moros held up the vial of stones he’d taken out at the brunch. The seemingly innocuous brunch that had given little insight into the horror I faced. “It seems, when consumed, the stones have the ability to alter bones and flesh. What was once the good and proper captain is now a flesh-eating animal.”

Every nerve in my body flared with terror, as he rounded me.

“You see, I may be a monster, but I can also be quite protective of you, my delicate little rose.” He brushed a lock of hair from my shoulder, my body so wound with shock, I hardly noticed the proximity of his lips to my neck, until he whispered, “Come. It’s almost time for your sister’s banishing.”