EPIC: Fourteen Books of Fantasy (41 page)

‘Oh, yeah, I remember now. That’s the lame Mystoria trader, ain’t it? Charming lady, that one. Generous with her coin too.’

Jemely snorted. ‘It’s easy to be charming when you got breasts and gold.’

The man laughed as we exited the store. But there was nothing funny about what Jemely had said, and I was angry at her. Maybe she hadn’t meant it. Adults seemed to say things they didn’t mean quite often. If only I could see her face. I was sure she wouldn’t be pretty; she was too callous. Mother had said that virtuous ladies were meek and humble, and Jemely was neither. In my mind she had empty eyes, scraggly pale hair, and a nose so big people would break into fits of laughter as she passed. I suddenly felt ashamed and scolded myself for thinking such hateful things.

My feet thanked me for every step that found the soft leather of my new boots instead of sharp rocks. But, there was something unsure about the softness. The leather protected my feet, but dulled my senses at the same time. Knowing the feel and temperature of the ground had become reassuring to me. And I felt blinder without the extra impressions.

The crunch of the road indicated gravel instead of twigs and leaves. The sounds of the forest path made me anxious. While I had never been to the river, my father had told me it was sourced from the mountains. As it was spring, the mountain snow would be melting fast, making the river run deep and fresh.

I didn’t realise the walk from Borrelia town square to the river’s edge would be so long: half an hour or so. I tried to count my steps, but the turns and twists rendered me lost and upset. I felt as if I were in a small rowboat without oars, stranded in the middle of the ocean. I tightened my grip on Jemely’s arm.

‘What’s wrong? Are you scared? Don’t worry. We’ll get home again.’

Jemely tried to encourage me onwards, but then more sticks cracked, leaves rustled, and the noises grew louder turning into rhythmic steps. I whirled around to face the noises.

‘Got demons in your head or something?’ Jemely asked.

‘Someone’s there,’ I said.

‘I don’t see no one. Don’t hear them neither.’

The footsteps came closer, and still I remained frozen, waiting, unable to run, unable to move.

‘Oh, now I see them. By my needle, you got good hearing, don’t you? People always use this track, nothing to be scared of. Look what happened to your father. He hurt someone, and he suffered for it, didn’t he? So people are scared to break the law because they get punished. No one will hurt you.’

The footsteps continued towards us, and I remembered how I’d fallen to the ground in the middle of the town square. People had laughed. Everyone had seen my badness and that I was deserving of hatred. Maybe one day I’d go to the river alone, and someone would stalk me on the lonely trail. I’d be attacked. No one would believe me; no one would care. They’d think me just a mad blind girl spinning tales. And like always, I’d be alone.

‘Jemely,’ a man shouted from a distance. He broke into a run, his footsteps getting closer.

‘No time to talk, got chores to do!’ She took my hand and squeezed. ‘I’ll keep you safe,’ she whispered. But her tone was tense, strained, and I wondered if it was me making her nervous or the man?

‘Pretty friend you got there,’ he said upon reaching us.

My heart raced. I moved behind Jemely and dug my face into her back.

‘Fie! She’s a child, you sick fiend.’ Jemely turned us away by grabbing my arm. Her fingers squeezed while she forced me to walk. Her pace was slow as she carried a basket of dirty clothes.

‘Come on, Jemely. You can’t still be angry at me. I told you that girl meant nothin’, just a baker’s daughter.’

Jemely didn’t slow her pace. ‘Oh? And what am I then?’

He came up beside us. ‘You’re a doctor’s niece. That’s far better. Here, let me carry that.’

Jemely snorted. ‘Get your hands off. I don’t need help from a frothy, fly-bitten fleabag.’

‘Oi, Goda, who ya chattin’ to?’ another man shouted.

I clenched my teeth. Jemely’s stride had lengthened to a fast-walk with an occasional pause to get a better grip on her basket. Still she clutched my arm, making it ache.

‘Jems is here, Venn. She’s got a new friend,’ Goda said to his companion.

‘Remember the man that died? She’s his daughter, I think,’ Venn said.

‘Really? That poorly hermit had a daughter?’

‘Yes.’

‘Shame she’s blind. She’d make a nice little wench.’ Goda laughed.

‘Go to! You’re a horrible lout, Goda,’ Jemely said.

Both men laughed.

‘What’s ya name?’ Goda said, poking me in the arm.

I ignored him and focused on not tripping. Then, the sound of the river lifted my spirits. There would be other people there. Surely they’d save us from the men.

‘C’mon, speak.’ Goda placed a hand on my shoulder.

I jumped and tried to run, but Jemely’s hand held me fast to her side.

‘Look out, fool. Don’t frighten her,’ Jemely said.

One of the men moved between me and the river; the other blocked my way back to Borrelia. I was trapped. I could smell the sourness of unwashed clothes and the stench of manly sweat. My heart thudded in my ears. One part of me wanted to run, and another part wanted to scream, but the last and most compelling part wished there was some way to hurt them.

‘What’s her problem?’ Goda asked, moving closer.

‘What do you think?’ Jemely asked. ‘Her father was hanged, and her aunt’s a cripple. Let her be.’

‘I’ve never seen the eyes of a blind girl before,’ Venn said.

‘Oh yeah, I wonder why she covers them,’ Goda added. ‘Bet they’re all deformed. Or maybe even missing, just empty holes in her head.’ He laughed.

Were my eyes ugly? They had to be. Why else would Mother make me wear a blindfold?

‘Don’t you dare touch her!’ Jemely cried.

Hairy arms grabbed at me from behind. My mind transported me back to the night in the tub, to Mother dragging me into the bedroom, my father holding my uncle’s head under the water. I couldn’t breathe; a light sweat formed on my skin. My heart raced. My skin crawled. And my head seemed to jump and pull.
Run!

I kicked backwards. The heel of my new boot connected with something, and a man whimpered. His grip on me weakened, and I broke free, falling sideways, but managing to stay on my feet. I sprinted.

‘Adenine, don’t!’ Jemely yelled.

Fingers clambered at my dress, but I kept going.

I heard feet pounding behind me, and the other man said, ‘Come back here, you little…’

I banged my shoulder into a tree. The pain was excruciating, but I kept running.

‘Leave her alone,’ Jemely yelled, and I knew the men were after me. Branches scraped against my face. I could taste a mixture of blood and sweat as liquid trickled down my cheek and nose. I ran with both arms stretched out in front of me, but after a while, the pain in my shoulder was so bad I couldn’t raise my arm, so I let it fall to my side.

‘Ahh forget her. Let’s go to the river,’ Goda said from behind me.

Though the footsteps that pursued me stopped, I kept running. The power in my legs and the wind on my face made me feel as if I could do anything and go anywhere I wanted. I was no longer trapped by my blindness, my fear. I was truly able to choose to be alone, to leave everything and everyone and run far away. My first
real
taste of freedom… nothing had been sweeter.

At first, the silence was comforting. Only a few birds chirped, and a cool afternoon breeze rustled leaves and made tree branches creak. I couldn’t hear the river, so I knew I’d run east. And when my heart slowed and my skin cooled, the forest s ounds crisped. Jemely had not heard the men approach. Either she was deaf or my hearing was especially strong.

I explored the forest, touching trees and feeling the leaves on the ground. Flowers baked in the sun, freeing the scent of their nectar. I removed my blindfold to get a better sense of light, but soon the red glow on my eyelids faded to maroon, and I could no longer find patches of sun to warm me. The air thinned and chilled. My boots kept my toes warm, but without a coat, I would freeze. I became desperate, aching to hear a voice or the running river water, or even the moans of cows and the bleats of sheep. Nothing.

I was lost and alone in the Borrelia woods.

Chapter X

O
WLS
HOOTED
,
AND
WOLVES
CRIED
. One thing I hadn’t expected was my freshly crafted leather boots rubbing my toes raw. I developed a limp from the pain. The day had turned to night, and lost and defeated, I slumped to the ground and leaned against a tree. The relief of finally sitting was blissful, but my joy was brief. Once I stopped moving, I became aware of how cold I really was. I began to shiver, so I wrapped the length of my dress around my legs and made a sort of bed out of surrounding leaves and twigs. Unfortunately, the leaves were still wet from the previous night’s frost, and a cold breeze pushed the moisture through to my skin.

When my shivering turned violent, I tucked my thick hair into the nape of my dress, making a sort of scarf. It didn’t help. Forest crickets were in full chorus, and other insects buzzed nearby. In an attempt to distract myself, I named each animal’s call, which I had learned to recognise at my uncle’s shack many years ago: barking lizard, bear, snout pig, snow lion. The last frightened me a little, but the growl was distant.

I ignored the feeling of predators stalking me and escaped to my imagination, my last defence against my suffering. I chose a tropical location, somewhere that Senya people, living in a snowy climate, could only dream about. While Bivinia was far south, it wasn’t tropical. Mother had told me that there was land across the mountains and to the south where little animals swung from trees by their tails and trees grew on the beaches and dropped delicious fruit into the salty sand, where the water was like glass, and the day was as blue as the most elegant silk. The fantasy took hold, and I encouraged it by focusing on the details, the way the sand felt between my fingertips and how the sea animals splashed and jumped in the water.

Then, I added people, starting with Mother. She was on the beach, making mountains out of wet sand, and Father helped. Mother was walking, her legs repaired. She could run too, and in my delight, I tickled her. She splashed warm salty water at me, and I kicked some back at her. I’d seen a picture of a sandy beach before in a book.

My fantasy faded when I lost feeling in my fingers and toes. My breathing was laboured under the sudden shock of reality, and my lungs ached from the cold.

Branches snapped, and I imagined ghouls or witches searching for dead animal parts to use in evil brews. I tried to go back to my warm beach, but it was no use. The threat of the dark, the continuing howl of wolves, and the unbearable coldness kept me awake.

A sudden breeze parted my scarf and chilled my neck. My nose ran, and my ears ached as if they would break off and fall to the ground. I needed warmth, and the only way to get it was to get out of the wind. I decided to dig a large hole in the dirt, but when I pulled my arms away from my body, the cold rushed in to take their place, and I gasped, hugging myself. It was hopeless. I was hopeless. I dug my chin into my dress and blew warm air from my lungs. But the contrast between the warmth of my breath and the cold outside only made my teeth chatter.

When the wind grew stronger, I knew I was going to freeze to death. All my attempts to stay warm had failed. I may as well have been naked. My world became smaller. There was nothing outside of my discomfort. I tried bending my knees, but every movement made me colder.

I used the bottoms of my shoes to dig up dirt. When I had two long holes, I pushed the loose dirt onto my legs. The exercise had warmed me slightly, and as time passed, that warm feeling became hot, searing, as if my skin were boiling or someone had immersed me into a mound of hot coals. I clawed at my unbearable prickling skin.

When the prickling stopped, the cold returned. Then, I heard a crackling noise in the distance.
A forest fire
. Demonic voices began calling to me in the night. They said my name over and over. Somehow, I dragged myself out of my bed of leaves and dirt and hid behind the tree I’d been nestled against.

The ghouls had found me. They would hurt me. I wasn’t safe. So cold, so alone. When I stood, my muscles were like hardened clay. I took one step forward. My knee popped, and I collapsed into the dirt. I curled around the tree trunk, making myself as small as possible. Bark scratched my arms, and the roots of the tree dug into my ribs.

One day you will be happy, Adenine.
I focused on Mother’s voice in my head, trying to believe her words. The voices from the ghouls of the forest were strange, slow, and closer than ever. My heart pounded in my ears. The utterings came from my right and then my left. The roar of flames swished through the air. The demon voices seemed to multiply until the air was soaked with noise.

‘Adenine? Adenine, can you hear me? Adenine?’

I squashed my eyes together and pressed my cheeks into the tree.
Blend, hide
. I hoped my very desire would make me invisible to the demons. Never would I give into their tricks. The demons wanted me. They wanted to burn me.

Hands as hot as suns clutched mine. I tried to scream, but the sound swelled and died in my throat. The one breath exhausted me. The demon whispered into my ear, his voice deep and slurred like a drunken soldier’s.

‘Don’t…’ I tried to yell again, but the scratchiness of my voice robbed it of volume. My skin crawled under the evil beast’s touch, as if the space between my bones and my skin was filled with spiders. The fires grew and surrounded me. There was no warmth. Cold fire, a witch’s trick. And then my fight was gone. I gave in to the creatures. It was easier than I thought. Surrender would be like slitting my throat when burned at the stake.

I fell into darkness.

Chapter XI

D
ROWNING
. I
WAS
DROWNING
IN
fire water. The demons had taken my nightmares and made them real. Water lapped at my shoulders. The air was muggy, and my lungs felt clogged. But the smell was familiar… such a clever deception. In my mind, I saw that the water I was in was red with blood.