Dead Of Winter (The Beautiful Dead Book 2) (19 page)

As we stumble over the blackened ruins of the homes Mad Malory destroyed, there’s a sudden movement ahead of us. Gunner’s whipped out his crossbow as if by reflex, but in a matter of seconds we are surrounded by many townsfolk emerging from rooftops and armed with bows.

“What’s this about?” Helena—or should I say,
Judge
Helena—demands of them. “Put down your silly arms. Your arrows can’t hurt me anyway.”

“They’re steel-tipped!” shouts one of the bowmen.

“They’ll hurt you plenty!” another cries out.

Helena rolls her eyes. “Again, they won’t. Steel is the weakness of the
Deathless
, not the
Dead
. Chief, come out here and explain this. I can hear your heart beating and we have pressing matters to discuss.”

From the city proper, the Chief approaches with a band of two swordsmen. John’s come up to my side protectively and I’ve stepped in front of Megan just the same—though I’m not at all confident the steel-tipped arrows won’t, in fact, harm me anymore. Gunner doesn’t lower his weapon, eyeing the bowmen on the roof.

Helena smirks, lifting two lazy eyes at him. “Thanks for gracing us with your presence, Chief. I am shivering with excitement to hear your explanation.”

“I’ve heard word,” the Chief brusquely begins, “that a certain Deathless who was so kindly spared during the Great Battle Of Trenton is now amassing an army of burning dead to invade us and steal all of our lives for his cause. Is this true?”

How does he already know? “Exactly,” I blurt out, no matter. “That’s why we’ve hurried back. To warn the city and prepare. I saw and spoke with him—”

“There was no deal with After’s Hold to begin with,” the Chief says, cutting me off. “Was there, Helena?”

“Of course there was.” Helena’s voice is a poisonous combination of indignant and annoyed. “Our steel for a share of their food. As agreed.”

“The more time we waste—” John starts to say.

“How can I trust that my people are safe?” the Chief goes on. “You took our most valuable weapons from us, Judge Helena, at a time when we need them most. Sounds mighty convenient.
I
was smart enough to hide some of the steel. As you can see, we are
not
defenseless. But it is because of your brashness and because of
that one’s
folly—” That would be me. “—that we find my city in this position at all.”

“
Your
people?
Your
city?” Helena squints, her face hard and dark as vengeance. “
Our
people, I think you mean. If you’re insinuating in any way that I don’t care about the citizens of Trenton—a far larger portion being Undead, by the way—then you must’ve lost all your wits, Chief. Or whatever your name is.”

John steps forward now. I hold Megan close to me, making sure she doesn’t do anything rash. “Chief. We were blindsided by—”

“No need to explain yourself, John,” states the Chief. “Nor you, Gunner. You both are blameless. Let them in. The little one, too.”

Megan—being Megan—stamps forward and shouts, “Let Winter and Helena in, too! It’s because of them we’re all alive! You can’t do this, stupid Chief!”

The Chief studies me, his eyes heavy and pensive. He is not all bull and horn—I see the contemplation in his eye. His gaze moves to Hel, then back to me, calculating.

Finally he says, “If what you say is true, Helena, then you won’t object to my letting Winter in first to confirm a few things. This new army of Grimlock’s is somehow mind-controlled, after all. Who’s to say you haven’t been somehow … compromised?” He squints, looking smart. “I did my reading, my research. I
know
the Deathless.”

“Grimsky,” I murmur quietly. Everyone turns to me. John and the concentrated fury that crushes his face. Megan and her little quivering Human eyes. Helena looks especially like she could hiss a stream of venom right about now. “His name is …” I shut up. What’s the use.

“If he has the Warlock’s Eye, like I’m told,” the Chief goes on, “then perhaps ‘Grimlock’ is, in fact, a more suitable name. Helena stays for now. Winter will come, as she was the one in direct contact with this …
Grim
.”

Helena huffs angrily, rolling her eyes. “So ridiculous. You
do
realize I could literally just walk in and there’s nothing you could do to stop me?”

“My men will butcher you into sixty-three pieces before you stepped foot on these streets,” the Chief declares, “and then you’ll be quite incapable of anything, let alone walking. Come, John, Gunner, Winter. Time’s wasted out here, on this.” He marches into the city.

I peer at Helena apologetically, prepared to say a thing or two, when she just waves her hand dismissively. “Go, go, go, Winter. You heard the fool.”

“I’ll be back,” I promise her. She rolls her eyes in response.

The four of us, without Hel, follow the Chief into the city. He leads us down eerily quieted streets to the Town Hall. Though there are currently people in the Square, I’m sure some directive to “stay home where it’s safe” was given. I pass a house where the inhabitants watch us, then draw their curtains closed quickly. So much for protecting the people’s peace.

When we are in the spacious lobby of the Town Hall, the too-bored-to-exist clerk has her face mushed into her palm, playing with a pencil on the desk. To the side, there are two circles of chairs like a lounge where people can wait to speak with the Chief or Judge. Someone sits in the closest chair, facing away. When he turns, I see his face.

Benjamin.

He gets up in an instant. “Winter! John! Oh, Megan, you’re all alive,
you’re all alive!”
His face lights up like a bomb, his eyes flashing with joy and his hands rushing up to cover his mouth. He looks on the verge of explosive tears, were he capable.

I come up to him and give him a little squeeze. “You made it out.” I pull away, giving him a look of surprise. “And you made it back quickly! Damn! What are those new legs of yours made of??”

He laughs. “Luck, that’s what. Hey, John, can Winter be my death-sis? I’ve
always
wanted a death-sis.”

Megan hops excitedly. “I want to be your death-sis too! And Winter’s! We can be a death-family!”

John, too tensed by present circumstances to enjoy any form of fun, just gives a mild grunt of amusement. Gunner’s eyes are calmly focused on the Chief, and the Chief looks like a statue, feet planted firmly and face as taut as a wire.

“To business,” states the Chief, not caring to bring us to the official meeting room. No one’s here but us and the bored desk clerk anyway, who’s started sticking pencils through her beehive hairdo. “Benjamin explained that he was able to get the story of what was going on from Grimlock’s burning men. A master of tongue and slick manipulation, Benjamin has proved to be. Got you out of the Necropolis, if I’m not mistaken.”

“I have a way with the Death—” Ben starts to say, then swallows his own words. Only he and I know why.

“Yes,” the Chief agrees, unnoticing of Benjamin’s discomfort. “You have a way with those Deathless.” He addresses the rest of us. “Benjamin broke free from them, escaped the city and returned home. He explained what happened. I’ve sealed the gates and armed my people with everything we kept: steel arrows, steel blades … I still have a number of them for each of you. You will arm yourselves and keep watch.”

“I’m armed,” states Gunner quietly, crossbow slung across his shoulder. “Steel-tipped, too.”

“Me too.” This comes from Megan, who is still toying with the little knife.

The Chief kneels down in front of her. “Megan. You are a strong, brave girl. But your parents have been very, very worried. You should not have run off like that. You need to go home now. This fight is not for children.”

She starts to protest, so I jump in, figuring she might listen to me better. “Megan, my little death-sis. You, in fact, have a very important role. You’re too small to fight, but we need someone to make sure all the other kids are safe. The other adults, they’re all going to be dumb and yelling and fighting. They’ll forget all about the children, so it’s up to
you
to save their lives and keep them hidden with you somewhere, alright? Can you do that for us?”

Megan isn’t stupid. She just smirks at me. “Sure,” she answers sarcastically, sounding too much like Helena. “Put me away someplace. I’ll be
happy
hiding in a cabinet while you guys have all the fun.”

The Chief rises, his patience only stretching so far. “We won’t know when they are coming, but when they do, it will be quick and strong. Every city the Burning Army raids, their numbers multiply.”

“Lock’s Eyes,” Megan grunts into my ear, impatient.

Oh, of course. Why hadn’t I thought of that? “Megan has a point. We still have the Lock’s Eyes. They were vital to our victory when the Deathless invaded Trenton last time. They should protect us from Grim.”

Benjamin bites his lip, uncertain. “But that was when we were facing a Warlock who could turn the Undead to dust, destroying them utterly. Grim is different. He can suck the life out of a Human and Raise them on the spot.
And
he can control those of us he Raises, apparently.”

“He might be able to control more than just his own Raises,” I point out too. “He seems capable of controlling the—shall we say, colorful?—citizens of After’s Hold. He is far more powerful than mister short metal-leg.” I smirk at the bitter memory of him. “We should utilize the stones as best as we can.”

“We have two in our Treasury,” says the Chief, eyeing Gunner and John. “We need to think of the best use for them. Quickly.”

Megan pulls on my sleeve. “What about yours?”

“Yes, I have the third. It’s kept in my house.”

“Bring it here,” the Chief orders. “We will sit down, all of us, and decide our best move. And if Helena—”

“Yes, about Hel,” I interrupt, asserting myself a touch more into the politics of Trenton than I ever dreamed I would. “There’s actually a very simple method to test whether someone is, well, compromised,” I explain. “The Old Judge performed it on me, in fact, when I was exposed to the Deathless. It was on the day I met John.” I look at him, surprised to find a subtle smile in his lips.

“What’s this method?” asks the Chief.

“Strike a steel sword through me,” Helena answers.

Everyone turns, surprised to find her standing in the doorway. She does not look amused.

“Here’s the steel sword,” Helena goes on, bringing it to the Chief. “Even though my
holding it
ought to be evidence enough, I’ll let you have the pleasure of stabbing me, if it puts your sensitive squishy fleshy self at ease.” He accepts the sword she shoves into his hand. “Go on, then. I know you’ve been wanting to for quite some time.”

He squints at her dubiously, sword hanging in his grasp. “You got past the—?”

“I let myself in. No one butchered me into sixty-three pieces because unlike their Chief, they know better. Now stab me and get this
over with,
you buffoon.” She spreads her hands, letting him at her abdomen without resistance.

The Chief studies her long and hard, then simply says, “You made your point, Judge. You are not compromised.”

“No, I’m not. I’ll expect your apology later, but for now, we have preparations to make. What’ve I missed?”

“Warlock stones,” I mutter.

After a brief moment of staring darkly at Helena, the Chief nods at me, his face lightening. “Yes. Retrieve the one from your house, bring it here. Maybe we can get creative with our use of the ones we have. We will be sorely outnumbered. We need those alive who are unable to fight to help with preparations, then keep them all somewhere safe.”

“Their homes may not suffice,” Gunner points out. “We should keep them here, perhaps. In the basement.”

“We’ll have to relocate the howling dead woman,” says the Chief. He’s talking about my Brains. “She can’t be anywhere near a person of blood. Megan, you should go home now, let your parents know you’re alive.”

She frowns for only a moment, then says, “Alright.”

I’m surprised she didn’t put up more of a fight. Megan lets go of my hand, which I hadn’t noticed she was clutching, then leaves the Town Hall. I watch her go, reminded eerily of the day we escaped the Necropolis and I allowed us to split up. I had watched her race into the woods, unable to protect her any longer, feeling so like a mournful mother in that moment …

I wonder how little I can protect anything anymore.

“First thing’s first,” says the Chief. “We count our stores of steel and figure how many of us we can arm. Here, you take this one,” he tells Benjamin, handing off the sword he almost used to impale Helena. “Winter, John, Judge … Let us raid the arsenal, shall we?”

I smile at my companions, then turn my head to find Benjamin with a look of terror on his face. When I glance down at his hand to find billowing tufts of smoke hissing from the hilt of the blade he was just given, I see why.