Where Serpents Strike (Children of the Falls Vol. 1) (14 page)

“It’s a wasteland,” Brynlee said. “It’s
real, and it’s dangerous.”

“They say the daylight in The Divide is so
bright that it can blind you,” added Maidie.

Cadha’s certainty looked shaken. She swung
her eyes westward as all the girls tried to see beyond the rows of
soldiers that were gathering just ahead of them.

“I heard you can’t even get close to it
without it killing you,” said one of the girls.

“It’s so hot there the ground burns every
day.”

Brynlee looked up through the still blooming
trees of spring. Their branches were mere brown silhouettes against
the darkening blue of an incoming night. Her eyes wove between the
limbs, searching the sky above. Finally, she saw it—a line of
blackness and stars splitting the sky.

“There,” she said, her voice a mere
whisper.

The heads of the girls turned upward where,
to the west, a long crack ran through the navy sky. It looked more
beautiful and deathly ominous than Brynlee could have imagined,
like a portion of the sky had been peeled away, revealing an inky
black abyss of stars. Its width was no wider than her tiny finger,
but its length ran for a thousand miles north to south, or so she
had read.

One of the soldiers stomped past the wagon
cage. He looked furious. “We’ve missed the passing,” he said with a
growl. “Bloody fools! You took us too far south.”

“Calm down, you quibbling bastard,” said
another. “We can pass just as well right here.”

Their arguing dissolved into a back and
fourth match that Brynlee was content to ignore.

“It is said that a witch split the sky
almost five hundred years ago,” she said, gazing up in awe at the
long rift. “A witch who had fallen in love with—”

“That’s not what I heard,” spouted Cadha. “I
heard that the Northern Gods did battle with the Middies. Fuar,
Cnatan, and Ishloch attacked Cuir and Cotch and tore up the land in
all directions.”

“Now
that’s
a bedtime story,” Maidie
said. “The real story is far more interesting. You know the story,
Brynlee. You should tell it to them.”

A couple of the other girls looked
intrigued. “Yes, tell us.”

The first image that sprang to Brynlee’s
mind was an old drawing a philosopher had once made of the battle
between High King Vala Hull and the demon king Ahkidibis. She had
always thought it was a sad illustration for caught between them
was a woman who had loved them both, but could no longer serve
either.

“There are many stories about The Divide,”
Brynlee began, “but the story of Vala Hull is the true one. He was
a great king. He united the realm, brought Edhen out of poverty and
starvation. Ahkidibis was—”

“Please,” Cadha balked. “Don’t bore us with
religious nonsense.”

“You’re the one who was just talking about
the gods of old,” said Maidie.

“No one believes in Ahkidibis,” Cadha
said.

“Quiet,” Othella said. “Just let her tell
the story.”

Brynlee ignored the interruption, but took a
moment to collect her thoughts. “No one hated Vala Hull more than
Ahkidibis, the God of Fire. He rose up from his throne in the Nine
Hells to fight the high king of Edhen and rule the realm himself.
He tried deceiving Vala Hull into giving up the throne. He tried
tempting him with wealth and magic, but Vala Hull was pure. His
soul could not be corrupted.”

One of the black soldiers trotted by on his
horse, the beast kicking up clops of wet black mud as it breezed
past the wagon. “Hold!” he shouted to the men approaching from the
rear. “Take rest. We’ll cross at nightfall.”

“They’re not going to take us into The
Divide, are they?” asked Maidie, a look of terror in her eyes.

“It’s the only time it can be crossed,”
Brynlee answered.

“How do you know?” asked Cadha.

“My tutor said The Divide is too hot during
the day. It can only be crossed at night, or under ground.”

“Finish the story,” said one of the younger
girls.

Brynlee paused a moment to recall where she
had left off. “High King Vala Hull was a good man. The only
weakness Ahkidibis could find in his life was his wife, Daniellia.
The demon king corrupted her, made her forget her love, and made
her his servant. He gave her great power, the power to destroy the
high king, but during a battle at the Tower of Metlaigh, Daniellia
remembered her love for her husband, remembered who she really was.
She was bound to Ahkidibis though and could not betray him. So she
split the sky to divide the kingdom, to protect her husband, and
drive the God of Fire away. She died doing so, because when the sky
opened up the sun poured through like fire and destroyed the land
and everything in it.

“The high king was devastated, but Ahkidibis
had lost his power over him. Defeated, he returned to the Nine
Hells.”

Cadha shook her head. “No. See, right there,
the story doesn’t make sense. If the witch opened up the sky and
got burned to death, how come Vala Hull didn’t die?”

“Because of the blessing, stupid,” Maidie
said.

“What blessing?”

“Daniellia protected her husband against the
sun that day,” Brynlee answered. “The entire line of Hull is
blessed as a result. None of them can be hurt by fire.”

Cadha rolled her eyes back and shook her
head. “A story. That’s all it is. And a dumb one at that.”

The stocky soldier who had molested Oriana
sauntered by the wagon cage with two other men. He made kissing
noises at Othella. “Looks like our time together will have to wait
for tomorrow.”

“You should leave them be,” said one his
comrades.

“Just because you’re married doesn’t mean
the rest of us can’t have fun.”

“Mungo isn’t going to be happy if he hears
you’ve been sampling what he’s purchased.”

“That swine hasn’t purchased anything yet,
but when he does I’ll be able to tell him what this lot is worth.”
He flapped his tongue at the girls.

Brynlee felt Othella’s arm slip down over
her shoulders. “Just stay with me.”

After the soldiers left it became clear that
there would be no rest tonight. The company was moving on through
The Divide once the sun went down and the air cooled.

Efrem brought the prisoners some water in a
leaky brown bucket, which he kindly served to them from a wooden
ladle.

Brynlee noticed that he took his time when
it came to Othella. His attentive eyes watching her as she tipped
her head back and emptied the contents of the ladle.

“You like?” he asked.

She nodded and thanked him.

Cadha pushed her way toward Efrem. “Could we
have some blankets? It’s getting cold.”

Brynlee knew that the girl was lying. None
of the girls had complained about being cold that she knew of.
Cadha was up to something.

Efrem politely dipped his head and walked
away.

“What are you doing?” Othella asked.

“None of your business.” She sat down to
wait, her hard features scowling at the floor.

Efrem returned a short while later, waddling
behind Captain Fess with a pile of blankets in his arms.
“P–please, my lord. They won’t be worth anythin’ to Mungo if they
sick when we get to Perth.”

A third soldier walking with Efrem said,
“He’s got a point, my lord.”

Fess waved a dismissive hand. “Do whatever
you want. I don’t care.” Then he stomped off.

The soldier looked at Efrem and gestured
with his head for him to follow.

Brynlee tensed when she heard Cadha whisper,
“Get ready.”

“Blankets,” Efrem said, his eyes brightening
when he looked at Othella.

The soldier escorting him, a man who didn’t
look like he cared at all about anything, chewed on his lower lip
as he unlocked the door. Consequently, when Cadha kicked him in the
chin his teeth drove through his lip, nearly biting it off. He fell
on his back, clutching his bloody chin and bawling in shock and
pain.

“Come on!” Cadha shouted. She jumped out of
the cage.

Eleven of the fourteen girls poured out and
scattered into the woods as fast as their chains would let them.
Brynlee watched, terrified, as they shoved past a confused looking
Efrem and dashed for the trees.

She felt Scarlett’s tiny hands clutching her
dress in panic.

Some of the soldiers took notice of the
fleeing prisoners and gave chase.

“I’ve got this one!” said one of the men as
he raised a crossbow.

“No!” Brynlee shouted.

But the bolt had already been set free. It
found its mark in the middle of a girl’s back, sending her face
first into the ground in an explosion of dirt and old leaves.

“Follow me!” Efrem said. He motioned them
out of the wagon. “Hurry! Hurry!”

Together, with Scarlett and Othella, Brynlee
slipped out of the wagon. She followed Efrem along the backside of
the cart and down an embankment, petrified that an arrow might
pierce her from behind.

The four of them wove their way through the
trees, putting more distance between them and the camp. The sounds
of the shouting soldiers and the screams of the girls grew
increasingly faint until Brynlee couldn’t hear them anymore.

Efrem stopped on the downward side of a
steep ridge and ushered them to take cover behind the towering root
system of an overturned maple. Brynlee crowded back against the
tree, heart exploding behind her ribs. She took Scarlett and pulled
her in close.

“We should keep moving,” Othella said.

Efrem waved his hand westward. “No more that
way. The Divide too hot.”

When Brynlee looked to the west, the sight
made her jaw drop. The land open to her gaze looked as if it had
suffered a week’s worth of wildfires, but there wasn’t a single
tree trunk or barb of underbrush left. There was nothing but barren
wasteland stretching as far as her eyes could see, brown and black
and fading into mist.

A short fieldstone wall sat just ahead of
them, running north and south—the border of The Divide.

Brynlee flinched when the sounds of
footsteps rushed toward them. It was Cadha. She shuffled down the
embankment, past the overturned tree, and toward the wall.

“No, Cadha!” Brynlee said. “Wait! Stop!”

The girl scampered over the wall. “Sard off,
Brynlee!” She hopped down onto the grass on the other side of the
wall and plunged forward into The Divide. Brynlee watched in
horrified wonder as the girl’s figure grew smaller and smaller in
the expanse of black earth. The fog moved in, shrouding her behind
a wall of gray. Soon, Cadha Rose had disappeared from view.

Efrem lifted a small hammer and nail and
said, “For shackles.”

Starting with Othella, he tapped out the bar
holding the shackle in place on her right foot. Then he attended to
her left.

“Thank you,” she said, after he had pulled
the restraints free. “You are very kind.”

Othella held out her shackled wrists.

But Efrem just shook his head. “No. I am not
kind man.”

Efrem’s demeanor had darkened. His
mannerisms had become slower, methodical, almost menacing.

“What do you mean? You helped us escape. We
are almost free. Thanks to you.”

Efrem squeezed his eyes shut and wagged his
head, like he was fighting conflicting principles in his mind.

He crawled up toward Othella and put his
hand on her throat.

“I have love for you, my lady,” he said, his
voice shaking.

“What are you doing?” Othella asked. Her
hand shook as she tried to push him away.

“You make my eyes happy.” He made a move to
kiss her, but Othella resisted.

Brynlee had seen her father kiss her mother
on multiple occasions, but kissing, as gross as she considered it
to be, never looked like this.

As Othella begun to fight even harder,
Brynlee went over and grabbed Efrem by the arm. “Stop it!”

His fist sent spikes of lightning through
her brain and the next thing Brynlee knew she was sprawled on her
back with a pounding wail going off in her head. Struggling, she
sat up, and realized that the wail was not between her ears. It was
Othella. The girl thrashed about on the ground, powerless to break
Efrem’s grip. He had his pants around his ankles, and his boy parts
were long and stiff, like a horse. He bunched Othella’s dress
around her waist and forced himself between her legs. She pounded
his shoulders with her fists and screamed, a chilling sound that
made Brynlee cover her head and shut her eyes.

“Please stop,” she muttered, her stomach
twisting. “Please stop. Please stop.”

She curled into a ball on the ground and
imagined her father crashing through the woods, grabbing Efrem and
yanking him off of Othella. Her father would come. He was always
there to protect her.

And then there were footsteps. Black vipers.
They were drawn by Othella’s screams. When they saw Efrem and the
girl struggling on the ground they sheathed their weapons and
laughed. Some of them whistled, chattering about Efrem’s pale
backside. Their other remarks didn’t make any sense to Brynlee,
crude encouragements filled with vulgarity and slang that she had
never heard before.

Brynlee’s head spun so violently from the
pain in her face that she felt sick.

Efrem rose when he was finished. His face
glazed with sweat and looking crazed and drunk. The soldiers
slapped him on the back and congratulated him.

Relief filled Brynlee at first, relief that
it was over.

And then the stocky soldier who had been
leering at Othella for days took Efrem’s place.

“I was going to wait until tomorrow night,
lassy, but this seems as good a time as any.” He climbed on top of
her and then the thrashing began again.

One of the soldiers grabbed Brynlee and
jerked her to her feet alongside Scarlett. “Back to the wagon you
two!” he barked.

As he dragged them away, Brynlee looked back
at Othella. The girl was hidden behind the fallen tree. A group of
three soldiers closed in around her, unfastening their armor and
leering down at the helpless girl who had long given up her
protesting screams.