Chapter 9: The Great and Terrible: Chapter 9

Earl’s plan played on repeat inside my head for the rest of the day, all night and throughout the morning. I waited on edge for Tommy’s return. Finally, as the sunlight filtering through cracks in the tent reached peek brightness, he entered the hut.

My breath hitched, a single word blasting through my head. Showtime.

As usual, his keys jingled. A sound I would despise for the rest of my life. He wasn’t smiling, and he hadn’t come alone. The two burly guards accompanied him. He held a length of chain.

No one spared the sleeping Earl a glance as Tommy freed my chain from the stake, then yanked me to my sore, cut feet. A surge of adrenaline dulled the other aches and pains that flared in overworked, abused muscles.

A guard tied my wrists together with rope. Nugget remained on the bed and slept as well. Only difference was, Earl faked it. At least, I prayed he faked it. He had a part to play.

“Afraid to face me alone?” I taunted. “Had to bring reinforcements?”

“You all think you’re tough in the beginning.” Tommy motioned to the canteen with a tilt of his chin.

The second guard swiped it up and checked the inside. “Empty.”

That’s right. Not a drop remained. I’d had some, yes, to build up my strength as the hours passed, but I’d continued to share with Nugget, who seemed to have doubled in size. Amazing what nourishment and love could do. And so quickly, too. The little darling had inched closer and closer to me throughout the night, until finally snuggling in at my side. His presence had comforted me when I needed it most.

“Good girl,” Tommy said, leading me via the chain outside. Clink, clink, clink. Metal key beat against metal key, and I ground my teeth. The guards flanked my rear.

Apprehension prickled my nape as sunlight highlighted a crowd of men, women, and children. They formed walls at both my sides, creating a pathway. No one spoke a word or moved as they observed my forward procession. My heart provided an ominous drumbeat that kept time with my footsteps. If any facet of the plan went wrong—nothing would go wrong. This would work. Because it must.

Tommy led me toward a type of public square within the camp, heading for a wooden pole close to a rectangular table littered with what must be the “seasonings.” Glass vials filled with cleaning soaps and scrubs, oils and spices, exactly as Earl had described.

Step one: Get to the table.

Panic attempted to hijack my good sense when the pathway ended mere feet away from the pole. Too far from the table! I’d have to do something.

I could do something. Before Tommy could tie me to the pole, I threw my weight into his body, knocking him down. As he fell, creating slack in the chain, I darted past him and purposely crashed into the table. It toppled, along with the vials. Nothing broke or spilled, dang it, everything capped. Behind me, shocked, horrified gasps abounded.

Step two: Get my hands on something sharp.

I worked fast, grabbing a vial and slamming it against another. The two shattered. I managed to stuff a shard under my tongue and swipe up a second before Tommy jerked, dragging me to his feet. Twisting, I swiped at him with the piece I held, hoping he and the others believed it was the only weapon I’d obtained. A distraction tactic.

Scowling, he caught my wrist and rammed my hand against the pole. Pain opened my grip, the fragment tinkling to the ground.

“You’ll pay dearly for disrupting this sacred ritual.” His scowl darkened as he secured my bound wrists to the pole and removed the length of chain. He left the collar in place. Meanwhile, villagers rushed over to clean the mess and right the table.

Step three: Send a signal to Earl as soon as I completed step two.

I threw back my head and screamed until Tommy slapped me. Stars flashed before my eyes, but I didn’t care.

Step four: Await Earl’s distraction.

I had no idea what the old man intended to do or how he hoped to do it, but he’d evinced only confidence when he’d outlined my phases.

“Enough of this nonsense.” Eyes slitted, Tommy withdrew a dagger and set the blade’s tip at the neckline of my shirt. “Nothing can stop what’s to happen. You will be stripped, cleaned and covered with a special blend of spices. We will leave you here overnight, and you will marinate. In the morning, I’ll remove one of your legs. If you scream again, I’ll take your tongue as an appetizer.”

My heart thudded against my ribs, which threatened to crack. Please, Earl. Come through A slight whistle and whoosh hit my ears a second before an arrow embedded in my captor’s throat. His eyes widened, as if he was unable to comprehend what just happened. My eyes widened. Blood leaked from his wound, and he gasped for breath he couldn’t catch, stumbling backward before crashing to the ground, where he writhed in agony.

The crowd froze, everyone just as shocked and confused as me. Earl had found and used a bow? But, but…

Screams from others erupted. “The hut burns!” someone called. Others bellowed, “Fire!”

“The otherworlder!” I heard repeated in frantic tones.

“You, you and you, find the shooter,” a voice commanded. “Kev, you and your group help Tommy. The rest of you put out the flames!”

The crowd dispersed, most running for a well to draw water for buckets. A good handful of men closed in on the fallen, now still Tommy. I wasted no time. I bent my head to pluck the glass shard from my mouth and began cutting the rope binding my wrists as best I could.

In the sunlight, I couldn’t help but notice the colors sparkling in my shadow ring. Seven colors, to be exact, and another reminder of my mother’s ring. Almost as if…No, no. Impossible.

A humorless laugh bubbled from me. Was anything impossible anymore? I might as well finish the thought. Had I somehow absorbed the ring? And now, it un-absorbed, for whatever reason. A process that made no sense. I mean, how? Why?

When a big brute comprehended what I was doing, he abandoned the dying or dead Tommy to reach for me. Whoosh. An arrow embedded in his temple, and down he fell. Unlike Tommy, he didn’t writhe for a bit. He laid motionless and bleeding, staring up at the morning sky without blinking.

What was even happening right now? More desperate by the second, I sawed the rope faster. Faster still. Come on, come Four men hauled Tommy off as though their feet were on fire. Another villager raced for me, reaching…

Whoosh. An arrow sliced into his shoulder, and he stumbled to the side, bellowing with pain.

Those in the area realized the truth at the same time I did: approaching me equaled certain death.

Suddenly everyone backed away as if I’d morphed into toxic waste.

“I suggest you don’t touch the girl,” a calm, familiar voice called.

Jasher! Relief, elation, and astonishment washed over me, one after the other. A whimper left my mouth on a tide. He wasn’t dead, and he’d come for me, despite his claim to the contrary.

“I need the leader’s keys,” I shouted. A metal collar wasn’t going to be my new fashion accessory, and that was that.

Other arrows rained, taking down Tommy’s helpers before they got far. They fell two by two just as my rope gave way. Oh, thank the Lord! I pulled free, the strangest, most sublime strength rushing from the newly color-filled shadow ring, filling my limbs, keeping me upright, and further dulling my aches. I didn’t understand it, but I appreciated the boost.

“I’m getting the keys, my friend, and my dog. Cover me,” I bellowed. I didn’t wait for Jasher’s response. Just ran toward the dropped Tommy.

Took some doing to free the body from the heavy weight of the fallen who’d landed on him, but I did it. I snatched the iron circlet from his belt loop and took off running for the hut. Anyone in my path received an arrow, male or female. Only the children escaped the executioner’s wrath. But then, they didn’t attempt to approach me.

Near the hut, the now familiar scent of cooking meat hit my nostrils, and an awful suspicion rose from the mire of my thoughts. No, no, on. I quickened my pace. Earl didn’t. He couldn’t.

But he did and he had.

I stopped abruptly, crying out. He’d pushed himself out of his bed, pulled himself straight into the fire, and cooked himself to death, knowing the villagers would come running to save their favorite snack meat, leaving me to gain my freedom without an audience.

Tears blurred my vision. I should have known. Should have suspected at the very least.

Furious shouts penetrated my haze of grief, and I shoved Tommy’s keys into the collar around my neck until I found the right one. The metal shackle unhinged and fell with a thud. Now wasn’t the time to mourn. To waste Earl’s precious sacrifice on my behalf. I scanned the rest of the hut. No sign of Nugget on my bed. No sign of momma rabdog or any of her pups, either.

“Nugget,” I bellowed.

A slight movement under a blanket on the floor caught my attention, and I rushed over. Yes! I gathered the scared baby boy in my arms and zoomed outside, entering total chaos. People ran in every direction, searching for family members and trying to hide from the shooter. Dead and dying bodies with arrows protruding from various locations were now piled all around.

Jasher must have shot anyone who approached my door. How many arrows did he have left? Couldn’t be many. He’d already unleashed more than someone who’d had a grand total of zero arrows yesterday should possess today.

Rather than race for freedom, I held Nugget close to my chest and sprinted for the tent that held the captives. After releasing the first person I came upon—a near impossible feat while cradling a puppy—the newly freed man claimed the keys and released the next prisoner. As the pattern repeated, I dashed for a forest thicket. Get to Jasher. Just get to Jasher. But which way should I go?

An arrow hit the ground ten paces to the right. Jasher’s way of leading me? Guess I’d find out.

Go, go, go! I switched directions, zooming along the arrow-marked route as if someone brandished a whip behind me. When leaves rustled and another whoosh sounded, I slowed, expecting another arrow to land nearby. Except, a big, strong body jumped from a tree branch to land within striking distance of me.

I swung a fist, but he caught my wrist. Angels sang a chorus in my head as our gaze locked and his identity registered. Jasher, here in the flesh, not just a voice in the atmosphere. He no longer wore his armor but a white tunic and black leathers. Gashes and scabs littered his face and arms, dried blood and rips littered his clothing, and filth caked his boots. He’d never looked more rough and tumble, or more smoldery, and I’d never been so happy to see him. But, um, wow. I mentioned the smolder right? Because his eyes sizzled.

Nugget didn’t notice the newcomer, too busy snoozing.

“Hi,” I breathed.

Jasher anchored the bow to his shoulder and dialed it down, suddenly as calm as ever. “Took you long enough.”

I snorted, perhaps a little out of my mind now. “I could say the same to you. Instead I’ll go with hello, Tinman, so good to see you.” Since he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave, the need to flee faded to a soft buzz. “Shall we head out?” Look at me, being all nonchalant and polite in the face of danger.

“There’s no rush. You weren’t followed. Actually, your foes traveled in the opposite direction.”

In that case, I relaxed enough to kiss Nugget’s adorable nose. “Glad you survived. The cannibals told me you were dead.”

“It will take more than a pack of rabdogs to kill me.” His head canted to the side as he studied my bundle of love. “Meanwhile, you decided to domesticate one?”

I hugged Nugget closer. “Yes, and isn’t he a total darling? His birth mother rejected him, and I signed the adoption papers in my heart last night.”

Jasher’s eyes rounded, practically bugging out with shock. “But he’s the runt.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. There’s nothing wrong with being a runt. Isn’t that right, sweet boy?” I nuzzled my face into my son’s fur.

“There’s a reason rabdog mother’s always help the smallest of the litter die, Moriah.”

“Because they’re considered feeble? How dare you! Nugget is strong and courageous. By the way, our partnership ends if you so much as attempt to harm him.” The sweet darling had suffered enough. “Also, I thought you weren’t coming for me.”

Jasher shrugged, unaffected by my outburst. “I came for the compass.”

Maybe. Probably. But the fact was, he’d come, and that was all that mattered to me.

Nugget woke with a start and growled at the executioner, his eyes flashing bright red. I kissed his fuzzy little face, telling Jasher, “He’s hungry.”

A moment passed in stunned silence. “You expect me to feed the runt our rations, too?”

“Was I not clear? Sorry. Yes, I do expect you to feed him our rations.”

“You know he’ll grow into a beast as depraved as trappers, yes? He’ll do it fast.”

“There are few beings as depraved as trappers. But yes, I’ve seen a fully grown rabdog. I understand what I’m getting into.” No way I would back down on this. “So do you feed him or do we part ways now?”

His jaw clenched. “I said I’d get you to the City of Lux, nothing more, nothing else.”

“Well, he goes where I go.” Up went my chin. “About that food.”

“I probably killed his father. And his uncle. And his aunt. And⁠—”

“Okay, I get it. The big, bad executioner slaughtered the pack of rabdogs sent to kill him. Noted. Last chance.” I redistributed the animal’s weight and held out my hand, waving my fingers. “Jerky.”

Huffing, the ruthless executioner dug a piece of dried meat from his pack. Rather than offer it to Nugget, he passed it to me. I pressed the morsel against Nugget’s mouth, and he gobbled it up in record time, ending his growl fest.

Then Jasher shocked me further. He picked up a pair of boots resting at the base of the tree. My boots! Kneeling, he fitted the shoes on my battered feet. It hurt, but I didn’t dare complain, too overjoyed by the gift. And the man. He’d let me hang on to my baby.

“Thank you.” There was no stopping a sudden, wild tsunami of affection for him. Without Jasher, Earl’s plan would have failed. I saw the truth so clearly now. As desperate as we’d been, we’d hadn’t acknowledge the very real obstacles. The executioner solved the problem and saved the day.

“You’re welcome,” he grumbled.

I wouldn’t let myself hug him. “Shall we go before the cannibals decide to turn back and seek revenge?” I batted my lashes at him. “Along the way, I’d love to hear where you got the bow and all the arrows.”

“It’s not a long story. I spent the night making them.”

That…he…wow. My admiration for him spiked. He’d gone to great lengths to aid me. “Thank you,” I repeated, the words now a low rasp.

“Stop saying that. I don’t like it.” Another grumble.

Or he liked it too much? “You know, Jash, you’re actually a pretty nice guy. For a killer and all.”

He rolled his eyes, then turned on his heel and stalked off.

I trailed him as Nugget conformed his little body to my chest. “How did you find me? Was it the blood-stained path I left for you? It was the path, wasn’t it?”

“It did make finding your trail easier when the trappers took measures to hide their course,” Jasher admitted, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

So. Not a wasted effort, after all. I beamed at everything and nothing, proud of my brilliance.

Oh! Two black and white horses, each with a single horn, stood between a pair of trees, their feathery wings tucked into their sides. They watched while bathed in shadows, and my next step faltered.

They reminded me of the flying stallions depicted in my mother’s painting at Emerald City Clucks. Even more proof that she’d spent a good amount of time here. I almost couldn’t process it.

“Jasher. Hey, Jasher,” I whisper-yelled, doing my best not to frighten the creatures. Argh! They disappeared in a puff of white smoke between one blink and another.

“Yes, Moriah?” The executioner sounded resigned.

“Never mind,” I groused.

On we traveled, one hour blending into another. When my arms grew tired from Nugget’s weight, I borrowed another shirt from my guide and rigged a sling.

“We’re taking a slight detour to a nearby village to replenish our supplies,” Jasher announced. “If we stay on the move and encounter no trouble, we’ll arrive before nightfall. We’ll stay at the inn.”

Oooh. A temporary reprieve from my litany of aches and pains sounded delightful. A wonderful prize we both deserved after everything we’d survived. “I would love a bath. I reek of cannibal.”

“I know.”

Ouch. “Yes. Well. You aren’t exactly a sweet smelling rose, either.” Because he was all orchids and sandalwood!

He hiked his shoulders, not the least bit offended.

As silence stretched between us, my mind attempted to resurrect thoughts of Earl, my father and their fates, bringing a deluge of emotion I couldn’t afford to stroke. I forced myself to concentrate on my return to Ozworld, Kansas.

There really was no place like home.