Reaper's Cage (eBook)

2

Alaric didn’t remember leaving Halomoth, but when he regained awareness, he was surrounded by trees on all sides. Alaric looked down at his hands; they were shaking uncontrollably. Cold rain had formed sheaths of ice on them, but the cold only went skin-deep. Why don’t I have the sickness yet? Where are the sores? Alaric’s trembling legs gave out beneath him, and he hit the forest floor with a muffled thump. Warmth spread through his body despite the rain, and Alaric’s eyes flickered shut.

* * *

Vivian awoke, at what seemed like an absurdly early hour, the next morning. From the waist down, she was numb … paralyzed. For a moment, panic seized her. She sat up and ripped off the blankets. Her fingernails sank into her legs, and tingling pain shot up them. I can still feel them … I’m not paralyzed. Not anymore.

Vivian’s hands went limp. She lay back down, tears of relief starting in her eyes. She blinked them away and became aware of Brooke sitting on her bed, part-way through putting on her shoes. Brooke met Vivian’s gaze and then quickly looked away, fumbling with her shoe.

“Some of the customers are up early.” Brooke said, “I thought I’d start making the porridge.”

Vivian sat up again and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

“No, it’s fine, I’ll do it. I can manage that, at least.” She added the last part softly, half to herself.

Brooke finished with her shoes and came to sit beside her.

“Of course, you can,” she murmured. “Your legs will get better, Viv. Don’t worry.”

Vivian picked a stray thread from the hem of her nightgown.

“I hope so.”

Brooke squeezed her hand comfortingly. Just then, a loud, boisterous voice was heard from below, shouting:

“Hey, Brooke. Get a move on!”

Brooke’s head jerked up, her gray eyes blazing furiously as she jumped up and started for the door.

“Who’s that?” Vivian asked, pushing herself out of bed.

“Two stupid customers who got up early and are demanding food.” Brooke snapped. “We’ll have the whole pack down on our heads in a few minutes.” Brooke wrestled her gold-blond hair into a loose braid. “I’ll wait for you at the stairs. Take your time. Those gluttons aren’t going anywhere.”

“Brooke!” The voice roared.

“Oh, pipe down before I eat you for breakfast!” Brooke yelled back as she closed the door behind her.

Vivian paused to straighten her blankets before changing into her skirt and a fresh shirt, joining Brooke moments later, outside their room.

“Good luck,” she said, as they parted at the base of the wooden staircase. “Don’t forget to smile.”

Brooke shot her a sarcastic, toothy grin, and Vivian shoved her.

“Not like that,” Vivian said. “Go on, you’ll be fine.”

Brooke grunted skeptically.

“I wasn’t kidding about being hungry, y’know.”

“Well, if I hear any howls, I’ll know what happened,” Vivian said. “Now go tell them I’m starting on the porridge.”

Brooke went to deal with the customers, and Vivian disappeared into the kitchen.

* * *

When the early morning breakfast rush had subsided, Vivian limped over to the counter, sinking into her chair and letting her head slump onto her arms. Brooke entered the kitchen, waving a handful of silver coins at Vivian and cracking a grin.

“What’d I tell you?” She said, perching on the edge of the counter and dropping the coins next to Vivian’s head. “This place is a gold-mine.”

The coins hit the clay countertop in a myriad of hail-like plinks, and Vivian raised her head.

“I didn’t deny it.” She pointed out, sweeping the coins into a pile before reaching for a loosely woven canvas bag. “But, I also wouldn’t mind a minute to breathe between orders.”

Brooke’s face sobered.

“How’re your legs?”

Vivian’s left hand went to her back. She could still feel the slightly uneven bit of bone just above her waist.

“Oh, not too bad,” Vivian replied, wiggling her toes in her leather boots. “My left foot’s a little numb, but that’s not unusual.”

Brooke frowned.

“You should have Hedroe look at it.” She said. “He’ll be back this afternoon, and you know he’ll be stopping by.” Vivian laughed ruefully.

“True, well, maybe I will. But for now, I need to go foraging.” Vivian rose, crossing the kitchen and pulling her coat off the wooden nub in the wall. Brooke looked at her skeptically.

“You sure? I could come with you,” she offered. “Or we could just go to the market tomorrow.”

Vivian rummaged in a pile of old grain sacks, coming out with an old, scarred crossbow and a short sword.

“You know the market prices are going up, especially on fresh meat and vegetables. It’s cheaper to forage.” Vivian said, turning to face her sister.

“Okay, then maybe I should go with you,” Brooke repeated. “If your legs have been acting up, it’d be safer if I was around, just in case.”

“No, Brooke. I’ll be fine. I’ll have my crossbow and sword, and I won’t go far.” Vivian replied, loading a freshly oiled bolt to the crossbow. “Besides, you can’t leave that bunch here alone, can you?” Vivian pointed to the dining room, and Brooke sighed.

“You’re right. Just don’t be too long, okay? If you’re not back in two hours, I’m going to come and get you.”

Vivian rolled her eyes.

“Okay.”

“I’m serious!” Her sister called, as Vivian exited the back door.

Vivian raised her hand in acknowledgment and closed the door. She crossed the narrow strip of grass between the back of the inn and the wooden gate. Vivian tweaked the glossy tail of her rooster, as she passed and rubbed Finn’s head. Vivian’s hand had just grazed the gate when she heard a strangled yelp and a loud, surly voice behind her.

“Get out of here, mangy beast.” Vivian turned to see a tall, mean-looking man in an expensive-looking coat, aiming his cane at Finn. A growl rumbled in Finn’s throat, and his teeth were stained with blood.

“Hey!” Vivian snapped.

At the sound of her voice, the man paused, his cane upraised. His hand was bleeding, presumably from Finn’s teeth.

“Who’re you?” He snarled. “Mind your own business.”

Vivian limped across the yard, white-hot anger boiling up in her chest, her hand gripping the hilt of her sword.

“This is my inn, and that’s my wolf. Don’t touch him.”

The customer wiped his injured hand on his coat and stepped off the porch, pushing Vivian in the shoulder with his cane.

“Then teach him some manners.” The man hissed, shoving past Vivian.

Vivian stumbled, gripping the gate for support. She winced as splinters from the wooden post sank into her hand. Vivian watched the customer’s back receding in the distance. I hope he doesn’t come back. She whistled to Finn, and the wolf trotted up to her. He cast a baleful look down the road at the man. Finn’s ruff prickled, and he snarled. Vivian rubbed his jaw, and the fur on his neck relaxed slightly.

She examined her hand and picked out the bits of wood, brushing the loose ones away on her pant leg. Finn must have been hanging around the front door again. He’s usually pretty gentle with customers, he must have gotten in that horrible man’s way as he was coming out. Vivian bit her lip. I hope he doesn’t go to the garrison. Haegman might have Finn killed if he finds out he bit someone.

“C’mon, boy.” She said, walking through the gate. “You can come foraging with me.” Finn’s ears twitched up, and he licked her hand. He trailed through the gate after Vivian, and they started up the main road.

* * *

Vivian bent to pick a handful of thyme, stowing it in her satchel along with the still-warm hare Finn had caught.

Vivian straightened, rubbing her back with one hand and breathing in the forest’s sharp, chilled air. Rain had fallen thickly, and some of the leaves of her plants were beginning to wither. I’ll have to collect and dry as much as I can before the first frost. Vivian toed a spindly, leafless basil plant. Finn shoved his nose into a bit of muddy water next to Vivian’s foot and drew back, sneezing and shaking water from his nose. He shot Vivian a bemused look, and Vivian grinned at him.

“What’ve you found?”

She joined him and saw a deep, large footprint in the earth. Vivian knelt and traced the edges of the monstrous print with the tip of her finger.

“Flatland troll, probably.” She murmured.

Finn’s ears pricked, and he cocked his head at her. Vivian glanced at him.

“He won’t be a problem in the daylight hours, though.” She added, rising and sifting through her satchel and two dead hares which she’d strung onto her belt.

Apart from the hares and the thyme, she’d found peppermint and a good store of feverfew, along with a collection of tubers, edible roots, and mushrooms. Vivian bit her lip, looking down at the fragile basil plant. No point taking those few leaves. She closed her satchel and strung Finn’s hare onto her belt with a strip of rawhide.

Vivian turned and looked up the road. The inn was out of sight, its clamor and rude customers were far away....