After the Fire (After the Fire: Book the First) (22 page)

“If
the gods are to take us on this night, there is little to be done
about it,” said a high voice from behind Katalin. A tall woman
with limp hair that forever hung around her face had stood up. Magda
vaguely recollected seeing her around the camp, but she had no idea
who she was.

Magda
stepped toward the woman, making her eyes widen. She tried to take a
step back but others had crowded around her to hear what Magda was
saying. Magda put a crooked finger on the tall woman's chest. She
could feel the bones just below the skin. “The gods are out
fighting for survival. Fighting something even worse than the dark
creatures. Fighting so this evil doesn't come here and slaughter you
all. So if you have weapons in your tent, go now and bring them out.
Or we will all become foul scat shat out by something that drips
slime and smells of carrion.”

The
woman pushed through the others and walked quickly toward, Magda
guessed, her tent. Others also scattered. Katalin stayed, looking at
her defiantly. It was as if she were a different person when faced
with doing something for herself. She had always been respectful to
Magda, but now, hatred gleamed in her eyes. The old men glared at
Magda, too. The ones who understood. A grizzled man with a lame leg
stood up from his log with the aid of a walking stick. He had a few
strands of hair left that stuck straight up in the air. He could
barely walk, but he wobbled over to Magda.

“What
do you think, crone? That we will be saved by a bunch of women?”
he wheezed. He tried to laugh but only coughed.

“You'd
better hope to be saved by the women,” said Magda. “They're
all you have left.” Magda jutted her jaw out. “And speak
to me with respect or I will stop your heart, old man.”

“You
haven't the power,” he said, though a bit nervously.

“You
don't see me limping, do you?” said Magda. “In fact, I'm
feeling very strong. Would you like to test my power? I'm quite
curious to see what I can do.” She turned away from him and
addressed the women who remained. “If you are not gathering
weapons, you will gather wood for the fire. As much as you can get.
We will build this fire high.”

“You
want us to go out there?” said Katalin, motioning to the woods.

“You're
worried now?” said Magda. “How interesting.”

Katalin
shifted her child. “We'll die if we go out there.”

“You'll
die if you don't go out there,” said Magda.

“I
suppose you're going to kill me,” said Katalin. “I agree
with grandfather. You don't have the power.”

“But
I do,” said a voice behind Katalin. There was a long creak as
Iren pulled the bow in her hands back. The arrow was pointed at
Katalin's face now. “Do as she says, or I'll put an arrow in
you.”

“Iren?”
said Katalin. “What would your mother say?”

“She'd
tell you to stop holding us back and carry your bony arse into those
woods so we can build this fire,” said another voice that had
joined Iren. Magda recognized it at Iren's mother, Jlona, holding a
falx in each hand as if they were dead animals. “My daughter
will have a future. I won't let her die.”

“The
old men can watch the children,” Magda said, relishing the
looks on their faces. Arrogant old sods. “We all have a place
on this night. We must all work or we will all die.”

The
fire finally roared after a long time of hissing. Magda was sure it
would go out from the damp wood. But soon the branches dried out and
crackled. Magda called for more wood. No one grumbled any longer. The
children gleefully jumped and played by the fire, joyful to be warm
at last. Even Magda had to smile a little at their squeals. Though
she knew the noises of children would bring other things.

Magda
could feel some of her old power coursing through her body. Not
nearly as strong as it used to be, but more like herself than at any
time since the fire. She could feel the necklace buzzing at her
throat. She knew it was casting a light, giving her face a ghostly
glow, as she had seen it do to Eleni. She gathered the energy she
could feel inside her ribcage. Standing close to the bonfire she
raised her hands. As she let the pressure go she felt a sensation
like icy cold water trickling from inside her arms. Her hands glowed
with an icy-white light. She pushed and the light shot out of her,
spreading like an eruption of water, though colder than any river
Magda had ever felt. She looked around. The women and old men had
frozen and were staring at her in surprise. A light surrounded the
camp like a bubble, glowing only at the edges. It wouldn't stop the
dark creatures, but it would slow them down. Make them sluggish when
they entered.

Magda
shook her hands and clenched and unclenched them. The use of power
had given her a surge of near-giddiness. She shouldn't overreach; she
was not nearly as powerful as she was. But it was a start. She knew
one thing: she would not be returning the necklace to a mere fire
goddess. This was a magic too powerful to waste on backwoods gods,
even a god birthed by a Fate.

Magda
looked over at the old man who had challenged her. He was gasping
for breath, looking around at the orb that now surrounded them.
“Still think I can't stop your heart, old man?” she said.

He
tried to speak, but only a wheeze came out. He finally just shook his
head slowly, his jaw hanging open.

“Keep
gathering wood,” Magda said to the women. “You can go
through the light, just be careful of what lies on the other side.
This won't stop them, but it will make them slow if they venture into
camp.” Magda looked around until her eyes found Iren. “How
skilled are you with that bow, child?”

“Good
enough,” said Iren. “Eleni said I was good enough to live
without a husband if I wanted to.”

Magda
shook her head. “These are no husbands, child. If we survive
this night, get as far away from these Reivers
as you can.” Magda raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever
killed a dark creature?” Iren shook her head. “You're
going to start tonight. You will stay with me and watch for any
movement that isn't human. Understood?”

“What
about the women?” said Iren. “Someone has to protect them
while they're out gathering sticks.”

“Leave
them,” said Magda.

“No,”
said Iren, standing up straight. Magda looked at the set of her jaw
and the look of rebellion in her eyes.

“You've
been spending time with Eleni, that much is certain.” Magda
sighed and waved her hand toward the forest. “Very well. Gather
them all back here. Tell them to grab what fuel they can for the fire
and to return here. We'll protect them if that is what you wish.”

“My
mother is out there,” said Iren. “I can't just leave
her.”

“Family
only holds you back, girl,” said Magda. “I know that more
than anyone. I've been stuck here for more moons than I can even
count anymore. You are intelligent, girl. Far more than the others.
They need you more than you need them.”

“Would
you leave your sisters? On purpose?”

“If
I could keep all their power?” said Magda. “Perhaps not.
I am connected to them in a way that no mortal could understand. I
need them. But you do not have that problem. You can leave and keep
yourself intact; if you can get out, you should do so. Now go gather
your sheep. And tell them not to bleat too loudly.”

The
first monster came when the moon was high. The air was cold and the
sky was clear, shimmering slightly every now and again from the power
spell Magda had cast on the camp. The fire was roaring and sending
bright light all around them. The women were huddled by the fire
silently, the fear in their eyes as loud as any scream. A few held
falxes limply, afraid to even hold the things. Iren was the only one
who looked confident, the bow slung over her shoulder. Magda had
asked her why she carried so many arrows in her hand.

“It
makes me faster.”

“Did
Eleni teach you that?” Magda had said. “Or Alaunus?”

“No,”
said Iren. “I didn't have anyone to teach me, so I didn't know
how it was done. I can notch three arrows to a man's one. I watched
Balyn in secret. I am faster.” If any mortals were worth
saving, Magda had mused, it was this girl. She was a born warrior. As
the dark creature came bursting through the veil of light, Magda was
happy to have the girl at her side. She didn't lose her head at the
sight of the thing like the others. Most of the women screamed, and
one of the old men. But Iren shrugged her bow into her hand and
notched an arrow, focused intently on her target.

“It's
a
vodnik
,” Magda
said.

“Where
do I hit it?” said Iren.

“Everywhere.”

The
vodnik
had taken the
form of a man, his hair hanging soaking wet around his face. His
bloated, filmy eyes looked at the women and the thing smiled,
revealing dark teeth that, Magda guessed if they could see them in
daylight, were probably green. He was naked and water ran down his
skin, which was soft and so pale he almost appeared to glow. Like he
had been boiled, or left in the water too long. He took a step toward
them, frowning as his foot lifted slowly, confused by his inability
to move quickly. Normally
vodniks
were as quick as a fast-moving river.

“Don't
let him touch you,” Magda said. “He'll drown you and take
you back with him to whatever smelly water hole he's living in. If
you have a weapon get ready.”

Iren
loosed an arrow. Then another, then another. They thwacked wetly as
they hit their target. One in the neck, one in the guts, and the last
one in the heart. Water came bursting from the holes the arrows had
made, and it slowly fell forward onto the ground.

“Now!”
screamed Magda. “Cut off his head!”

Magda
rushed at the
vodnik
,
gurgling and shaking as though in convulsions. She raised the blade
and brought it down on the soft, pale neck, but hardly made it
through the skin. She had used so much energy to protect them that
she suddenly found herself weak. Water spurted through the nick she
had made in the thing's neck.

“What
are you waiting for?” she yelled hoarsely at the women. “Help
me, you fools.”

Two
women came scuttling over and stared blankly at the thing shaking on
the ground. Magda raised her blade again, but before she could bring
it down, the curved and hooked blade of a large falx glinted in front
of her, slicing through skin, bone and muscle in one swoop. Magda
looked up to see Iren wiping her forehead with the back of her hand.
She was panting. The
vodnik
lay unmoving, unseeing.

“Very
good,” said Magda with no hint of bitterness.

“What
do we do with it?” said Iren.

“Burn
it,” said Magda. She looked at the women. “I'll leave the
task to you all. This girl just saved your lives. Throw the carcass
on the fire and be quick about it.”

“What
about me?” said Iren, looking overwhelmed now that she realized
what she had done. Overwhelmed, but with an excitement in her eye
that Magda doubted had ever been there before. There was a sound like
tearing and Magda saw a child burst through the veil. A child with
red eyes.

“Get
your bow,” said Magda.

“That's
a little boy,” said one of the women. Magda didn't bother to
look to see which one. It didn't matter. “You can't kill a
child. Maybe he's just lost.”

The
child looked innocently around and smiled, showing impossibly long,
sharp teeth that flickered bright in the firelight.

“Not
a child,” said Magda. “A
kobold
.”

Iren
had already notched an arrow. When it hit, the
kobold
uttered an inhuman shriek that made the women put their hands over
their ears and close their eyes. This time, one of the women rushed
to chop off the thing's head, black blood spurting from its neck. It
took four tries, but the woman's efforts finally had results. Magda
nodded at her in approval.

“Throw
it on the fire,” she called. She looked at Iren. “This
will be happening all night. Will you be able to keep it up?”

Iren
nodded. “Yes,” she said. Her eyes were dancing.

“Good,”
said Magda. “Notch another arrow. I feel another one coming.”

Chapter
Nineteen

Eleni and Fin crouched in the trees and looked across the clearing at
the village. They had left Epona to graze in the forest.

The
village was just as Eleni remembered it, and for a panicked moment it
was as if she had never left. At any moment Rastin's voice was going
to echo out of the iron walls and she would have to crawl back in her
stinking box like an animal. She looked at Fin to reassure herself.
They were dead. They were all dead. She looked back at the village.
It was completely silent, and not a single light shone from what she
could see. What was stranger was that the forest was silent as well.
It made her uneasy.

“It's
unnatural,” Fin whispered.

“Why
is there no noise coming from the forest?” said Eleni. “What
has he done?”

Fin
shook his head. “I don't know. But we should go down to the
riverbank. Your family will be here soon.”

“How?”
said Eleni. “We rode a horse, running the whole way.”

“The
gods are fast,” said Fin.

“I'm
not,” said Eleni.

“You're
faster than you know,” he said. “Since you remembered I'm
sure you move just as quickly. Let's go before we're seen.”

It
was eerie standing still and hearing absolutely nothing from the
forest. It was even worse walking through the trees and hearing
nothing but the sound of their footsteps in the snow; Fin's boots
creaking as they made their way along, and the slight hissing of
Eleni's feet through the ankle-deep drifts that had made their way
through the canopy. Not a bird's song or the scrabbling of a rodent
could be heard. Nothing. Only the sound of their steps.