Horns and Halos, page 6
“So where are you heading? I doubt you are planning on staying here for long if you are picking up supplies.”
I took in a deep breath and faced Marcel out in the field, but I wasn’t looking with my eyes. I was miles away. What I was seeing in my mind was the glorious faith city that meemaw had always told me about. “I am heading to Saint Augustine,” I admitted.
“The faith city,” he breathed. “How I envy you.”
Blinking out of my blissful trance, I turned and asked, “Why is that?”
“You have freedom. I know the price we all pay for living out here in the Wastes. We seem like we are well off ... but we’re not.” There was a pause that was more like a respectful moment of silence where we both mourned for the dead. “You can go anywhere you want.”
I half-laughed. “There is always a price.”
“Oh, what price are you paying?”
I stiffened to the question. I felt like he saw through me and could sense my pact. He knew, right? I wiped my hands on my pants legs and smiled awkwardly, trying to mask my inner panic. There is no possible way he could know. Get a hold of yourself, Sia.
I settled with answering him with a half-truth. “What price? For starters, there’s the nightly battle with grunts.”
“Is that where you got that?” he asked, pointing to my face.
I nodded my head, and his eyes widened. Then he looked me over and it was apparent he was searching for more injuries. I still had on my army jacket which hid the wound on my neck. My pants—though mangled and coated in blood—didn’t visibly show the torn flesh on my ankle. I lifted fabric and turned enough for him to see the gash. Unfortunately, I could see it too. It was puffy, red, and angry-looking. I grimaced at it and let the material fall back down. I then moved the collar of the jacket from my neck to reveal the scratches. Slowly, I pulled it further off my shoulder and revealed the bite mark.
“You need medical treatment!” he gasped, grabbing me by the wrist. Guiding my arm, he put it around his neck and aided me in walking. “How are you not limping around on that?” he asked as he quickly shuffled across the porch and through the entrance to his house. “Mom! Get the first aid kit and some hot water!” he yelled.
Janet came to the doorway of a nearby room and looked to her son with a concerned expression. “What’s wrong, Elijah ... Oh. OH! My word. What happened?” Not waiting for a reply, she rushed over to grab a pot of water. “I didn’t know that it was fresh.”
“That isn’t the only wound,” Elijah informed his mother as he sat me down in a rickety chair at the kitchen table.
“Why didn’t you say something, my dear?” she asked.
As she poured the water from the kettle resting next to the fireplace, I replied, “I honestly forgot.” Truthfully, I hadn’t. “I thought I was fine,” I lied.
“You’ve got wounds that would leave most knocking on death’s door and you are sitting here claiming you forgot and you thought you were fine. How can you ignore yourself like that?” Elijah scolded me softly.
I looked at him and opened my mouth to reply but paused when those eyes collided with mine. That look, I knew it. I craved something like that from my family. I figured a friend would show it to me, but I never expected it from a stranger. Don’t look at me like that ... Please. Turning my head from him, I replied in a low, drone tone, “I’m pretty sure death wants to watch me suffer first.”
Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see his expression twist into something that was filled with hurt and curiosity. But that view was (thankfully) cut short by his mother squeezing between the two of us as she put the hot water and a pile of folded cloth rags on the floor. “You go grab the first aid, child. I’ll clean her up. This is a job for a fellow woman.”
He blushed a bit and stood up quickly. “Right,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll be right back.”
The mother responded with a hum and wrung out a freshly dipped cloth. As she dabbed at my face, she asked, “Where else?”
“Oh, um, on my neck, shoulder, and ankle. I think that’s all,” I admitted.
She sucked at her teeth. “To think a young thing like you stuck outside the safety of a village.” Janet shook her head with a heavy sigh. “You’re lucky,” she whispered as she wrung the water out of cloth and wiped my chin.
“I think you and I have different takes on luck, Janet.”
She looked at me and let one side of her mouth twitch in a nervous half-smile. “What is our world but trading one hell for another? You live out there and fight to live or ...” she looked around the house, tracing the walls with her tired eyes, “or you’re trapped in here fighting for one more day.” She faced me then. “But at least out there, you’re free of the chains holding you to your village. Out there you can try every day to reach a faith city. You can live free of debts you never asked for.”
Only, I did ask for it. I almost died for it, but the chains I had been free of for a single day were reattached within hours. I had my own devil. I had my own hell. I couldn’t tell her that, though.
“I suppose you’re right.” I wasn’t lying. She was right. I only cheated my way there. If anyone else like me had been outcasted or sacrificed to the Wastes and made it to the faith city, they fought longer and harder than I. I only fought through a night.
Elijah came back with the medkit and put it on the table with a long face. “There’s no more alcohol.”
“What about the bandages?”
“Maybe enough for her ankle but nothing more.”
She tossed the bloody rag onto the floor. “Drat. When did those get used up?”
“After I had to wrap my blistered hands from working the fields that morning you and dad slept in.”
A look of shame came over the mother. Standing, she wiped off her hands on the side of her skirt and grabbed her son, jerking him over toward me. “You finish cleaning her up, and I’ll go ask Matulia for some bandages and alcohol.”
“And an extra bar of soap, her ankle is messed up pretty bad.”
Janet waved at her son as she rushed for the door. I could hear her call for Marcel as she darted across the porch. She was probably going to tell her husband what had happened and where she was going. Again, I was left alone with Elijah.
Slowly, he knelt down, grabbed a fresh washcloth, and dunked it into the water. “You know, if I didn’t see these wounds, I would have thought you made a deal with a devil to stay alive out there.”
For a brief moment, my heart stopped. I masked the expression well enough. At least, I hoped that I did. I smiled and said, “You don’t say?”
“Not many come passing through. I’m sure you know this, too.”
I nodded. I knew it. I knew it all too well.
He motioned to my ankle. “Let’s get this one taken care of next.”
I didn’t disagree. Rolling up my pant leg, I revealed the angry wound. He and I both made a face at it. Mine was filled with pain, and his expression was full of disgust.
“That’s one nasty bite there. Someone ate well last night.”
I laughed. “His belly wasn’t full for long. I gutted him soon after.”
It was his turn to chuckle at my joke as he cleaned the torn skin. “I find it oddly comforting to know that when you leave here, you’ll know how to keep yourself safe. It kind of gives me hope.”
“My being able to slit a grunt in two gives you hope?”
He nodded then. “That there is a chance someone can make it to the faith city.”
“Why is that so important to you?”
His eyes naturally drifted down to his arm and traced over the many interlocking links that made up the chain tattoo. “I suppose it gives me hope of escaping a debt I never agreed to pay.”
I understood him. I never agreed to this life. At the same time, I didn’t feel like I had to struggle to survive like I did before. A devil sort of made things a little easier on you once you make a deal. However, I did feel the desire to secure a safe place so that I could come back to save my family and friends. None of us desired to live like this. Many of us just wanted to live a peaceful, happy life. That was so scarce in our world now. But—if I could find the answers on how to break these debts and curses—I might be able to save more lives than just my own. I was willing to put my life on the line for that, for a glimmer of hope.
He pressed on the side of my ankle, and I drew in a sharp breath. Involuntarily, I jerked my foot, and he latched onto the back of my calf with his hand. His fingers were stronger than expected and they dug into my skin to the point of almost bruising. “Don’t,” he whispered.
“That hurts,” I yelped angrily.
“I hope so. You’ve got a tooth sticking out of your bones!”
“Holy—you can see my bone?” I shrieked.
“Yeah. This is bad ... uh ...” He looked at me with pure perplexity. “Sorry to be wrist-deep in your blood and asking this now, but, what is your name?”
I blinked as I stared at him. Did I never introduce myself? Where were my post-apocalyptic manners? “Sia,” I said.
“What would you say your pain tolerance is?”
“I, uh, can get my shoulder mangled by a grunt and not scream like I’m dying?”
He nodded. “You might want to brace yourself. This isn’t going to feel great. I think you’ll be all right, though.”
“The words of my dreams,” I teased.
He smiled at me, and my own smile quickly faded. I frowned and looked away. My whole demeanor changed in the blink of an eye. One moment I was warming up to him and cracking tasteless jokes. The next, I was colder than an ice storm as I said, “Just get it over with.”
He waited a few seconds as I focused on my breathing. I remembered to do what momma always said, I remembered to not hold my breath. It was like child labor, you kept breathing deep and steady. By the time I closed my eyes, he tugged on the lodged tooth. I grunted in pain, and he chuckled.
I must have looked angry because he held up his hands to show he meant no harm. “You’re tougher than me,” he said with a wide grin. “I would have cried.” With that, he revealed the large, sharp tooth held between his fingers.
Reaching forward, I took the fang and inspected it. I smirked and stuffed it into my army jacket. “That’ll be turned into some nice jewelry later.”
“By the way, do you have an extra set of clothes?” he asked.
I nodded and then looked down at my bloodstained attire. “Suppose I should burn this outfit.”
His eyes glossed over like he was hiding something as he said, “We have some old clothes that might fit you.”
“I don’t want to be a bother.”
He shook his head. “They’re just collecting dust.”
Even though I wanted to ask why they had extra clothes that might fit me, part of me already knew the answer. I was sure that they didn’t belong to his mom. Drawing my lower lip into my mouth, I softly chewed at it. From then until Janet showed back up, we remained quiet while he cleaned my injuries. I didn’t really feel uncomfortable until he was working on my shoulder. I didn’t look at him, but I could feel his eyes on me. It was that special way a guy looks at a girl when he wants to bring her flowers and talk to her so he could find out what she liked. It wasn’t me being snobby about my looks or anything, I could just tell. I could feel his eyes on me like little prickles of energy. During that time, I did everything in my power to look at anything but him. Thankfully, I was saved by his parents walking through the door.
His mother shuffled over and shooed Elijah away. “Let me handle the rest.”
“I had it, mom,” he griped.
“Come on, son. Let’s go get something fixed for dinner for everyone while your mother tends to the young lady.”
Chapter 5:
The Chains that Bind
Not long after Janet was finished patching me up, the men announced that dinner was ready. I was happy to hear the news because I was hungry. Now that my wounds were taken care of, I had almost forgotten about how little I had eaten in the past twenty-four hours. However, I felt comfort knowing that the inflicted areas were cleaned, bandaged, and had a lesser chance of becoming infected.
The moment I sat down, Janet asked me, “So how long have you been out of your village?”
The question caught me off guard, and I awkwardly stared at each person seated at the table around me. “Two days and one night,” I admitted softly.
“That’s a long time to be out in the Wastes by yourself,” Marcel commented. “Surprised you don’t look worse than you do.”
“I would if it wasn’t for the machete my daddy gave me before I left,” I explained. “I might need to sharpen it before I leave. Cleaving through that much bone last night might have dulled the blade.” I looked up just in time to see each person with a spoon poised over their bowl and their eyes fixed on me in amazement that was coated in disgust. It was at this moment that I realized that this probably wasn’t the best topic for discussion while at the dinner table. Swirling my spoon around in my bowl of beans, I laughed awkwardly and swept my braids over my shoulder. I hoped that they didn’t see my very apparent grimace at my social blunder as I dove into my meal.
The silence was deafening and did nothing for my nerves. Elijah pushed a plate of cornbread toward me, and I eyed him over suspiciously before reaching for a square. “Thanks.”
“I might be able to help you out with sharpening it,” Elijah said, his eyes full of warmth.
“You have other things to tend to,” Marcel stated coldly. “You know the rules.”
“I’m just trying to help.”
“Gentlemen, let’s not discuss work at the table.” Janet’s words were more like a command rather than the plea she had disguised it as. Both men stared at their own meals in silence after that.
Later on that night, I lay in bed while looking over the list of work Janet had written out for me. Suddenly, I felt the mattress shift as Draki manifested next to me. I parted my lips to scream but his hand quickly clamped over my mouth.
His face was too close for any sort of comfort to be present as he said, “You really should get used to me appearing out of nowhere. It would be bothersome if you were to scream every time I come around.” He leaned in closer to me. Our noses were practically touching, and those gold orbs danced with mirth as his gaze bore into me. “There will come a time that I will want you to scream, but now isn’t that time.”
My brow bent angrily, and I slapped his hand away from my mouth and scrambled out of the bed. But the taste of his perfume lingered on my lips. It was the bitter taste of smoke mingled with the pungent scent of spice. “What are you doing here?” I growled the question.
“Checking in, of course. I thought that would be clear.”
“I doubt that you are checking in on me. What do you want?”
Draki stretched out on the bed, propped his head up on his hand, and bent one leg. As his robes slightly came undone in the front, he looked like he was modeling for a calendar rather than getting comfortable. I turned away from him. The sight of it was more appealing than I wanted to admit, and it made my stomach feel sick at the thought. I shouldn’t be this drawn to a devil. I shouldn’t want to be held by him. His deep chuckle mocked me from the other side of the room.
“You’re just bored,” I whispered.
“You’re not wrong,” he stated. “However, I wanted to warn you. This place has rules about work, and you aren’t exactly fully healed. If you don’t pace yourself, they’ll use what little vitality you have left.”
“So?”
“So ... Sia, I thought I would make this easier on the both of us and heal you.”
“No.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. I wasn’t getting the feeling that he was denied often. It took everything in me not to gulp audibly as I faced his unwavering glower.
“No?” he repeated in a fashion that came across as if he was giving me the chance to change my answer.
I nodded.
“Do not forget who belongs to whom here, little girl.”
I felt my confidence waver for a moment. “I haven’t forgotten.”
“I realize now why you didn’t want me to heal you out in the Wastes. You did it so you could convince them to let you into the city and to give you an audience with the leader. It worked, and I commend you for it. Most would have been too concerned with their well-being and required healing from me. You, on the other hand, used your injuries to prove your innocence and gain the trust of these villagers.” He grinned then. “Who’s the devil here, again?”
I didn’t like what he was saying. “I did what I had to.”
“Most of us do.”
“Anything else?”
“Let me heal you.” It was stated as a demand rather than him asking me.
I shook my head. “Give me a day before you try to heal me.”
He rose from the bed and spoke as he glided over to me. “Don’t overdo it tomorrow. It is one thing to be entertained and another to be burdened. I hope you understand what I’m saying, my dear. You’ve proven to be quite sharp thus far.”
“I understand,” I replied coolly. “Now— if you don’t mind—I want to try and get some rest.
He motioned to the bed, and I brushed past him to lie down. When my head hit the pillow, all I saw was his dusky form and two, golden eyes glowing from the corner of the room. The vision unnerved me, and I rolled over. Even though he was the farthest thing from safe, I knew I was protected. Sleep claimed me without resistance.
The next morning, before anyone else was awake, I was out in the field before the sun had risen too far over the horizon. The last thing I wanted to be doing was straining myself under its unrelenting rays and putting my injuries at risk. I wanted to get work done but without breaking myself in the process. Unfortunately, Draki thought that it was a good idea to join me for those few hours of work.
Brushing a cornstalk out of his way with a sneer, the devil grumbled audibly, “Aren’t I lucky that you’re such a diligent worker?”
