Chapter 12

Screams, howls, and shouting rent the air.

“Keep together!” somebody shouted through the trees.

Lilitha jumped aside when two Champions came sprinting up her route. White-faced and wide-eyed, they passed her by without a second look, boots slipping and sliding in the mud.

“Clara!” Lilitha screamed, but her voice was like a whisper in a storm.

She’d never been in the middle of a battle before, but she imagined one would sound something like this. She broke through the trees, only to wheel back again.

A dozen or so Champions stood armed and ready within a small clearing, bunched together, swords outstretched, eyes darting blindly into the darkness.

Several heads turned her way, only to turn away again. Lilitha kept herself hidden.

Her heart lurched when she saw what they were gathered around.

“Clara,” she whispered.

Clara and two other prisoners were kneeling at the Champions’ feet. Mandalay fronted the darkness, britches back on, gazing into the trees as blindly as his men.

“Here you have them, monster. Feast well on their black souls and leave us be,” he said.

The Champions gazed desperately into the shadows. They turned at the sound of a rustle. There rose a deep grumble.

Something ~moved~.

Dropping to the ground, Lilitha wriggled beneath a bush. She held her breath. At the sound of something big passing through the leaves very close to her hiding place, Lilitha snapped her eyes shut.

Mandalay spoke again. “Leave us be. We have nothing to offer you. Our souls are clean.”

There came wicked laughter followed by a growl, louder and deeper this time. Then it struck. Screams and shouting rang in her ears.

But the worst of it was the monster’s inhuman roar, which ripped apart the night. She could hear Mandalay bellowing.

Lilitha huddled in her little hiding place, hating herself for being so cowardly when her friend was in danger. Was she even alive? Would any of them be alive by night’s end?

Would ~she~?

The monster roared again. Then it was laughing—hideously, almost human. Maybe it wasn’t a monster at all—but a demon!

There came a sickening snap. Lilitha imagined a bone breaking. Her stomach heaved. A man was screaming, cut short with a gurgle. The monster howled.

There was a ~crack!~ so loud Lilitha covered her ears. And then she smelled it—blood. She’d never smelled it so strongly before. It seemed to permeate everything. It filled her sinuses.

Steadily, the sounds of slaughter became more distant as the attack moved away. She opened her eyes with a shaky breath.

Lurching to her feet, she stumbled into the clearing, clutching at her chest, fearing the worst as her wide eyes took in the scene.

There were bodies—everywhere. Twisted bodies. Mauled and broken. It was so quick! Lilitha turned away with a grimace at the sight of a pulpy head. The monster had snatched its face away.

There was a huddled figure on the ground. ~One~ Huddled figure. With blonde hair! Not possible. ~How~ was it possible?

Lilitha scrambled over. “Clara!”

Clara looked up, eyes bright with disbelief.

“You’re alive,” Lilitha croaked, taking her wrists. “Are you hurt?”

Numbly, Clara shook her head. She was so white she looked like she was going to pass out. Her wrists were like ice and trembled spasmodically in Lilitha’s grip.

“Come on.” Lilitha pulled her to her feet.

They hobbled together through the trees, the waterlogged forest floor sagging beneath their feet, water pooling in deep puddles or flowing in streams.

They slipped and slid their way up a slope. Away from the distant screaming. Away from the stench of blood. At least, that was what she thought.

Lilitha stopped.

“What?” Clara gasped. “What is it?” She seized fearfully onto Lilitha’s sleeve.

“Nothing,” Lilitha said, thankful Clara couldn’t see.

A torso hung high in the branches, its head a jagged stump, the remains of its torn gut dangling like a shredded curtain, intestines spilling out, blood collecting in the puddles of water beneath.

It was undoubtedly a Champion, the ruined tunic unmistakable. A stringy length of gore dropped to the ground with a plop.

Grabbing the collar of Clara’s cloak, Lilitha pulled her away. “Let’s go this way.”

Their progress was slow and quiet. Both were careful not to speak, careful not to falter, careful not to breathe too loudly. Lilitha didn’t hear the monster again.

Less and less they heard the screams and shouting of the Champions—they were far in the distance. Far behind them.

They went as far as they could, Lilitha’s feet dragging, Clara stumbling beside her. Until, finally, Clara dropped to her knees.

“No more,” she gasped.

They found a bush with a hollow beneath it. Squashed up together, they held each other to keep warm, to keep safe. Neither spoke. Neither slept. Not for many hours.

Lilitha was still awake by the time Clara’s breaths turned long and deep. Staring up at the bushes, she thought of Mandalay, of the monster. No. The monsters.

There were certainly more than one. Her hands were trembling as she clutched Clara more tightly against her.

The next morning, it was raining. It was icy cold, their breaths coming out in little white mists.

Lilitha’s cloak kept out some of the wet, but much of it leaked beneath her collar and down her sleeves every time she raised her arms to move branches out of her way.

They didn’t really speak, focused on getting away from last night as fast as possible. The forest was quiet. Too quiet. Suspiciously quiet after so much chaos.

“Do you think…do you think some of them got away?” Clara said, folding her arms into her sleeves.

“I don’t know. Maybe. ~We~ did.”

Biting her lip, Clara nodded. “I guess Laymond was wrong. There really ~are~ monsters out here.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you see them?”

Lilitha shook her head. There was much she could have said—the monsters could speak!—but she didn’t dare.

That voice. So deep and growling. She didn’t want to hear it again. That despicable laughter. Shivering, she pulled her cloak more tightly around her.

Clara didn’t ask about Laymond—she didn’t need to. Lilitha was sure it was written all over her face.

Lilitha wanted to ask so many questions about what Clara’s journey had been last night, but the air caught in her throat. She pressed her lips together with a grimace.

Neither asked the other if they knew where they were going. Lilitha had no idea what was north or east or up or down—and she was sure Clara knew just as little.

All they could do was move. Move as far away as possible from last night in time and distance and memory. Mainstry seemed impossible. A dream.

She hoped they weren’t walking around in circles. One couldn’t tell with the way they were weaving between the trees.

Clara looked up into the branches above. “It’s getting darker,” she said ominously.

Lilitha had noticed that too, as though they were wandering deeper into the forest, not out of it. The trees seemed bigger, taller. The call of the birds echoed in empty spaces.

Having always been surrounded by people and noise, she’d never felt so alone before.

After hours of walking and hearing nothing of the monsters or demons or spirits or whatever they were, Lilitha allowed herself to relax a little.

She stopped jumping at every small noise and looking over her shoulder every few minutes. They’d heard nothing of the Champions either—nor the other prisoners.

Perhaps they were truly alone. The possibility was terrifying.

Clara stopped, seizing Lilitha’s hand. “Do you hear that?”

“What?” Lilitha stiffened. Her heart raced. A sudden darkness seemed to descend, echoing all the terrors from last night.

Bring people. Bring her father and all his misery. Even bring back Mandalay. Just don’t leave her here all alone. Alone with all this terror.

Clara suddenly grinned. “I think it’s a waterfall.”

Clara hurried ahead. Lilitha rushed after her.

Her friend was laughing as they edged down a slippery, rock-littered slope, the pummeling of pounding water exploding around them.

After all the ugliness of the past few days, it proved to be the loveliest sight. White mist shrouded the trees as water cascaded into a small rock pool beneath them.

Trees soared into the heights, spilling their leaves into the water and onto the pointed rocks below. A bush turkey thrashed and shook amid the ground cover, pecking at seeds.

Clara didn’t hesitate, stripping off her dirty clothes and throwing herself in. “It’s freezing!” Submerged up to her hips, she wrapped her arms around her breasts, her lips turning blue.

Lilitha joined her, eager to wash off all the mud and blood and sweat. It was so cold she could hardly breathe. Still, she dunked her head under the water. She broke the surface, teeth chattering.

Laughing, Clara splashed over, blonde hair plastered to her head. Lilitha had never seen her naked before. She was so white she was almost glowing.

Before Lilitha knew it, they were hugging each other. Lilitha could feel the softness of her breasts pressing up against hers. Clara kissed her on the mouth and Lilitha found herself kissing back.

Lilitha couldn’t understand why. She only liked Clara as a friend…didn’t she? Perhaps they were simply eager for comfort, perhaps terrified that very soon they would never see each other again.

Lilitha certainly felt that. She felt that ~hard~.

Lilitha ran her hands down Clara’s waist, over the curve of her hips. They caught each other’s hands, entwining their fingers. Clara’s lips were soft against hers.

Lilitha leaned in to kiss her neck. Clara kissed her cheek. Then they were holding each other, Lilitha’s hands buried in her friend’s hair.

“I love you, Lilitha,” Clara murmured.

“I love you too.”

It was the first real physical contact Lilitha had ever experienced—not counting Mandalay. And she would never count Mandalay. This was nice. This was wonderful. And yet…

Gently, Lilitha pulled away. Smiling awkwardly at her friend, she kissed her on the forehead. “Come on, we’ve got to get going.”

Clara’s blue eyes were shining. Her blue lips were slightly parted. Then a shadow seemed to fall over her face. Giving Lilitha a weak smile, she went away to gather up her garments.