11​ A Girl with a Doll

BEFORE DAWN HAD bloodied the sky, Nisky was leading them out of the village. To Taver, it seemed to take them ages, as numerous times they were forced to halt or hide. The village was abandoned so any movement was likely the enemy. Once beyond Vasara’s borders, they ran until they reached a forest to the southwest, a half mile away. They hurried quickly beneath the forest canopy, and there was little undergrowth to hinder them. It was late morning, when they encountered the camp. Fortunately, after watching it for a while, they determined it belonged to a loyal clot of viral’s and Aidari. These had no fires or tents, but for some reason they’d also trailed behind the main exodus. When he spotted the graves, Taver knew those weren’t for any undead.

‘All twelve died,’ Vent fumed, where they gathered to talk on the outskirts of the camp. She had been the first to greet them. A mage from the Necropolis, she was middling in strength, centuries younger than Beezer or Lyrin, and once a student. The others in the clot were either students or of lower rank. ‘Two young boys and a girl among them,’ she continued. ‘We had some thirty breathers with us when we fled, not counting Aidari. All looking to me to save them.’

She was gathering soiled clothing into a pile. Taver had never met her, but he’d heard she had powers in healing. She had lived in the bowels of the Necropolis. She wore a dalba, but with shortened sleeves, while the skin of her arms was a dark grey, speckled with black spots. Tezcat informed him, in a whisper, those were cancerous tumours. A result of the healing she performed on the living. Other than that, her appearance was normal for a viral who’d seen two hundred years.

‘What happened to them?’ Taver received a glare from the healer.

‘Those Spectrum-forsaken wights,’ she then snapped. ‘What do you think happened?’ Vent spoke in a lilting accent, reminiscent of an exotic land far away, even when snappish. Holding her bared forearm over the pile, she used a long fingernail to burst a tumour. Bile tickled the back of Taver’s throat. A dark, viscous liquid touched the fabrics, which erupted in dark flame.

‘Wherever their icy touch doesn’t kill outright,’ said Vent staring at the magical fire, ‘well, the effects can linger for days. I tried, but it wasn’t enough. Not a single Grim-be-damned one of them. Each died in horrible pain. Well, the last of them passed not an hour ago. The rest are all healthy.’

‘That’s why you’re still here,’ Nisky observed. ‘You stayed to tend to the dying.’

Vent shot her counterpart a glance full of meaning. ‘You sound surprised. Healing is my duty. Always has been. But you wouldn’t know anything about duty, now would you, Nisky?’

‘You are not where you are needed,’ Nisky answered in a cold voice. She still seemed a little weak, but she was growing stronger. ‘You should be at Reaper’s by now, where they will need every healer they can get. You didn’t save those twelve, but you might save others. You should not be here.’

‘I will not be lectured by you,’ Vent muttered in a low voice.

‘You knew the wight’s touch was death, so why the wasted time and effort?’

‘Because they are people,’ the healer shot back. ‘Because I care!’

‘You know the plan as well as I do. There can be no room for misplaced compassion.’

‘Plan?’ asked Taver, looking from one to the other. Tezcat shrugged as though clueless, but he caught a glint in her eye. ‘Hey, wait, what plan?’

‘I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t leave them.’ Vent’s shoulders sagged as she spoke. ‘I sent the healthy onwards, but some stayed anyway.’ She gestured off-handed towards the humps of wet sod. ‘All my experience, my centuries of studying magic, and for what? I failed them.’

‘Perhaps you chose the wrong discipline.’

Vent took a few steps towards her rival, fists bunching.

Taver noticed Tezcat grinning like some possessed thing, and realised she was hoping for a fight. He frowned at her. He did not share her enthusiasm. If those two started flinging magic about, there’d be more graves needed.

‘Uh, wait now, hold on,’ he said, stepping between them, ‘don’t forget the plan. You don’t want to go endangering that now do you?’

Vent glared at Nisky, who stared back with cold eyes. Several of the growths on the healer’s skin popped. The black liquid leaked down her arms to disappear within her fists. The ground beneath her smouldered where drops fell. ‘Perhaps you should have remained where you were supposed to be,’ she spat. ‘We all make our choices. At least I only heal them. I don’t go and bloody well marry them!’

‘Look, uh, Mage Vent?’ She turned to glower at him, but he gulped down his fear. ‘You did what you could, right?’ He had to think fast. ‘If not for you, those you sent on might’ve died too. They’d have never made it out to begin with.’

He then glanced at Nisky, who remained focused on her rival. ‘And Nisky here, she saved myself and Cat. She fought the wights, and paid a price for it. You’re both important in all this.’ Whatever all this is. ‘You’re both doing all you can, so there’s no point fighting each other.’

Vent’s scowl softened and she offered him a smile, which on a woman with a pulse might’ve made him blush. ‘I sometimes forget how you breathers see the world. Despite all your crazy affectations, and your maddening intransigence, you can be the most logical and empathetic at the most fortunate times.’

Taver spotted Tezcat scratching her head and frowning. He stifled a laugh. Crisis averted for the moment. It was Tezcat’s turn to scowl as she realised there’d be no fight.

‘Yes,’ said Nisky, who also grinned. ‘He is special this one, and more than he knows.’

Vent brushed off some imagined dirt from her black dalba. ‘Well, we must leave without further delay. They cannot be far behind.’

‘No,’ said Nisky, ‘and neither is the one who let them loose. However, that one is occupied for the present, gathering strength before the final surge. We have some time, if not a lot.’

‘Who are you talking about?’ asked Taver, feeling more worried than a minute ago. ‘Surge, what surge?’ He hated not knowing what was going on. Ignorance could be dangerous in his experience.

‘Beezer will have to deal with her,’ continued Nisky as if he hadn’t spoken. ‘We must hurry.’

‘There is food here,’ said Vent, ‘but not much. We didn’t have time, and so few of us brought anything. Dried kale, smoked fish. Beezer has been storing supplies at Reaper’s for some time, but it’s a long journey to reach the fortress. If you need anything, grab it now.’ This was mostly said for Taver’s benefit he was certain. Most virals could go a long time without sustenance. The older ones, at least.

As they waited for the clot to organise itself for departure, Nisky managed to grab them some fish. It looked like leather and tasted worse, but Taver swallowed it anyway. He’d need the strength. Tezcat ate noisily beside him.

As they watched the camp break apart, munching on smoked haddock, thoughts of his mother bothered Taver. She hated virals and he could picture her siding with this rebellion. Oh, wouldn’t she just ... but then, it wasn’t a rebellion. It was a purge, an extermination of the undead.

How the wights factored into it all, he didn’t understand. One thing was certain, though, virals were no longer welcome among the living. He wondered what the price for that would be. Beezer had taught him that virals were the guardians of the imperium, but guarding against what, he didn’t know. Beezer had never elaborated. Taver imagined it was something nasty, a threat ordinary soldiers couldn’t handle, and honestly, it was all he needed to know. He’d never thought about it much before, and doing so now, chilled him. What happens if there are no more undead?

They abandoned the camp, with its twelve lonely graves, and headed west for the safety and hope of Reaper’s End.

***

AFTER DAYS OF TREKKING, they found themselves alone. The viral clot had pulled ahead some time ago. The pace Vent set was impossible for anyone alive, even for the Aidari who had their mages’ strength to rely on.

One of the Aidari, a young man named Sharl, had fallen well behind. His enormous belly and thick legs might have been the cause, or perhaps he was just tired. The other Aidari would try to catch up, of course, but the undead could march day and night. Taver had decided it wasn’t worth the effort. They could not keep pace, and exhausting themselves wouldn’t help.

Tezcat’s mood had grown hostile since she realised Vent had left them behind, and she decided to blame Sharl, never mind if Taver couldn’t keep up either. Nor Nisky for that matter, since the woman was still regaining her strength. The Aidari was fat and slow, and an easy target for her. Sharl kept close to Nisky whenever the viral girl bared her teeth at him.

On day seven, and deeper into the mountains, they encountered a remote village. ‘Doesn’t look like anybody’s here,’ observed Nisky, ‘but to be safe, I think we should go around.’

Taver shrugged, shifting the hide and gut pack on his back; it contained everything, and nothing. ‘Not sure there’s a way around without adding several days. We can’t afford that much time. Besides, the others must’ve passed through here.’ While he’d never been to Reaper’s End, he’d studied the maps at the Necropolis, and thought he knew the best route. This was it.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ muttered Sharl behind them. ‘World is dead and we’re doomed.’

Taver glanced back at him, giving him a thumbs up. ‘So glad you insisted on sticking with us.’ The Aidari had become more miserable every day. Of course, Tezcat eyeing him up like he was dinner wasn’t helping. What had gotten into her?

‘It’s right through there,’ she snapped, pointing ahead, ‘the way to Reaper’s.’

‘I’m not blind,’ Sharl shot back. ‘I doesn’t matter, since we’re walking dead anyway.’

Tezcat looked about to throttle the fat Aidari, and took two steps towards him.

‘Alright, alright,’ said Nisky, placing herself between them, ‘that is enough bickering. We are on the same side. Fighting with each other will not help.’

They walked on, Tezcat grumbling. They halted in the centre of what might’ve been a street. Weeds and tall grass split the paving stones. Dark buildings on either side rose two stories high; all in dire condition, gaping windows and doors, roofs collapsed inward. Everywhere, rebellious vines waged war while reclaiming territory, grinding stone and undermining foundations.

The village was located on a plateau. At its western end, a road delved deeper between the peaks, the one they needed to take. There was no sign of life.

Maybe we are ghosts, thought Taver, and we don’t know it. Would that be possible? Could I have died somewhere back there, and don’t remember? If everything else is gone, and I’m dead, why do I linger?

‘Whole place is beetle-food, like the rest of the world.’ Sharl raised his chubby arms, and let them drop in exasperation. ‘Come on, what did you people expect?’

Beetle food? Fear had addled the lad’s mind. ‘It’s a place to sleep,’ suggested Taver. ‘You undead may not need any, but myself and Sharl do.’

‘Yes we does,’ said Tezcat. ‘We just doesn’t needs much like you. A couple hours is lots for me.’

‘Huh,’ Taver grunted, ‘I did not know that.’

‘Lots you doesn’t know.’

Sharl swiped at his sweaty face. ‘I can’t sleep anymore.’

‘Oh, shut up,’ Taver muttered, giving him a shove to get him moving. ‘How did you ever get chosen in the first place?’

The weather was colder and wetter. Sleeping outside had proved difficult, especially when thinking about what hunted them. They’d seen no sign of pursuit, but he couldn’t imagine those wights relaxing back there in the Necropolis, pondering angelic afterlife.

They walked the village streets, Taver in the lead this time, Nisky trailing. Dark windows loomed from either side. Turning right, they came to a halt, and Sharl let out a yelp.

A girl stood in middle of the street. She wore a blue dress and held a filthy doll in her arms. Daylight was fading, but Taver thought there was something wrong with her face. She ran up some steps to a three-storey house and went inside. From the looks of it, the owners had been wealthy. The façade was decaying now, windows boarded up. It might have been the home of the village governor at one time.

‘A girl,’ said Sharl with a shudder. ‘You saw her right? We should go back.’

‘Nowhere to go back to,’ said Taver. ‘Not if you want to live.’

‘Could be one of those people,’ said Sharl, ‘you know, the ones those wights burst out of.’

‘With a doll?’ asked Tezcat in disbelief.

Taver noted Nisky staring at the house with a worried frown. Sharl wasn’t a complete idiot. Something was wrong.

‘Yeah,’ said Tezcat, throwing up her hands. ‘I ’members it now; they always wearin’ dresses, and killin’ breather folk with dolls and stuff.’

‘Just sayin’,’ Sharl shot back, ‘there could be others, right? How do you know there isn’t?’

‘Yeah, and so why is they ignorin’ a little girl? They killed every breather in Vasara what didn’t run quicks enough.’

Sharl stared at the ground.

‘I doubt they’re using children as bait,’ said Taver, ‘and quit the arguing. Both of you.’

‘She may need our help,’ said Nisky in a quavering voice. ‘We could take her with us. If we leave her, they’ll get her before long.’

‘We’ll go find her, then,’ suggested Taver. ‘Besides, some of us need rest, and there could be other survivors. There might be a few beds in there, and food. Worth stopping an hour or two.’

Reaching the house, they climbed the steps, where a dull glow from inside became visible. They heard low hushed voices. Taver made to push the door open further when a man appeared, yanking it inward.

‘Who are you?’ His eyes were sunken, hair lank and face discoloured. Bits of meat and grease soiled a white beard. He was one of the living, at least.

Taver told him their names, and that they needed a place to rest, deciding not to give away much.

‘Where’ve you lot come outta then?’

‘East.’

‘East’s a big place, even for an island.’ The man frowned when he looked at Tezcat. ‘You sick or something?’

‘We is survivors,’ said Tezcat. ‘Terrible things been happenin’. Hadn’t you heard?’

‘Where?’

‘East,’ said Taver.

‘You lot look sick.’ He stared at Nisky, who had managed to hide the hole in her forehead with her hair.

‘Those wights had nothing to do with sickness,’ said Sharl, ‘so what you gettin’ at?’

Angels above, thought Taver, I’m going to clobber the idiot.

‘Now, who said anything about wights?’ The old man was chewing, and spat on the steps at their feet. ‘Can’t a man make an observation on his own doorstep? Here, I’ll make another one: I don’t like the looks of any of you. We can’t take care of sick folk, so go away.’

‘We’re not sick, stupid,’ the plump Aidari shouted.

Well, thought Taver, this isn’t going to make matters any better. He tried to peer inside, but the man moved to block his view, half shutting the door.

For some reason, Sharl yelped.

‘We apologise, sir, but we is needin’ your help,’ said Tezcat, offering the fat boy a grin, while he rubbed his bruised shin. ‘That is why we come all this way, sir. We is plannin’ on being gone in the morning well afore dawn.’

‘You’re a cute one, I guess,’ the man muttered, ‘for one of the undead. Yes, yes, I know what you are. Leastways, you got all your arms and legs and don’t have no bits fallin’ off. Stuff like that puts me off my dinner. Still, you aren’t welcome. Get away, before I throw you outta here.’

A woman appeared behind the man, and Taver felt a jolt of shock. ‘Let them in, Vilkas, you old fool.’

The man whirled on her. ‘Damn you to Grim’s own rusty gate and back woman, what you go an’ say my name for? Just because I let you in my house, don’t mean you can go and name me in front o’ strangers.’

‘What does your name matter? Nobody knows you. A new dawn will rise and none who matter will remember it.’ Rade Wyn shoved him aside. ‘Besides, this is my son you’re talking about. Now, get inside and don’t forget our agreement.’

The old man paled, but he nodded and scurried from the door.

Taver struggled for words, ‘How ...?’

Rade Wyn held up a hand to stall him, as she took in Nisky and Tezcat with a deep frown.

Taver’s shock and relief at seeing her alive, gave way to stubbornness. He didn’t like how she examined his friends. ‘They stay with me, or I leave right now. If so, you’ll never see me again.’

‘I see. That’s how it’s going to be, then?’

‘That’s how it’s going to be.’

She offered him a sad smile and then nodded, stepping back to admit them inside.