Page 60 of A Kingdom of Lies

“I can’t do this alone,” I shouted, shaking his shoulders and regretting it instantly. “You’re going to have to help me. Stay awake, damn you, Duncan!”

I knew I had to act. Sitting around in the blood-soaked snow wouldn’t achieve anything. Soon enough wolves and other creatures would catch the scent of death and come looking.

Latching onto the promise of a nearby town, I got to work.

It took a lot to pull him from the ground. Duncan was stubborn enough to keep himself on his feet even as he fought to keep consciousness. I tried not to think about the blood pouring from his head as we began to navigate ourselves away from the macabre scene.

I gritted my teeth, forcing my spine to keep as steady as possible whilst I hobbled forward with Duncan’s arm wrapped around my shoulders. All I could do was focus on the darkening road ahead, hoping the promise of a village was true. My legs burned and my body ached, but on I pushed, putting as much space between us and Erix as I could whilst studying the distance for signs of life.

Ayvbury. The name of the village was carved into a wooden sign that swung in the nightly winds. It was the squeak of the sign’s aged hinges that tore me from the strange trance. I’d been walking for what felt like an age, half dragging Duncan, whose arm clung to my shoulders and his awkward feet dragged across the ground.

All I thought about was moving my feet, one after the other. If it wasn’t for the sound of the old hinges, I would never have looked up.

It took a lot of inner strength not to fall to my knees and shout for help when I realised I had made it. Before me stood darkened buildings, neatly stacked beside one another, on either side of a narrow street. Surely someone would hear me and come to help if I shouted? But there was no telling who dwelled here. A fey and a Hunter, which one would they welcome. I knew it wouldn’t be both. So, onwards I pushed, knees shaking, as I carried on walking.

If I looked back it would’ve been to search for Erix, but deep down I knew he’d never follow. Never again.

The dirt path changed. Suddenly the soft ground became hard as cobbled stones spread out beneath me. Stubborn weeds wrapped around each cobble as though the earth tried to claim them back.

Keep going,I told myself.

Even my internal encouragement sounded tired. But at least it was something to keep me company. Duncan had not made a sound for a long while now. The wound on the back of his head covered his neck in dried streaks of blood.

Guilt kept me walking as much as my desire to put distance between Erix and us. If I had kept some lick of control, then Duncan would not have been in this state. It was my duty to get him the help he needed.

To reach my destination I needed Duncan alive. He was my focus now. If I didn’t have one, I would perish too.

At first, it was hard to work out which building was a church. I’d never been inside of one, nor had I cared to pay them much mind. Father was not a religious man, perhaps due to his history with the Hunters, whom I know knew to be a group of cultists with their own faith. But there wasonedetail that caught my attention as I navigated through the empty streets of Ayvbury. There was a towering wooden building, the only one with a candle flame glowing in the uppermost window. Most of the other buildings we passed were darkened within, but this showed some sign of life.

It was the glow of candlelight that drew me towards the building but the symbol hanging above the arched, black-painted door had me slowing my step. A wheel, spoked by two crossing lines, pointing south, east and west, with the northern line passing over the boundary of the circle in an arrow-shaped edge. I didn’t need to be a man of faith to recognise it as the symbol of the Creator. A circle that represented life, the lines pointing in all directions to show that the Creator’s love always covered the people no matter where they dwelled.

But that northern arrow facing skyward represented the Creator’s realm, a kingdom that was believed to exist in a world above the clouds.

I kept moving, changing direction as I passed through the gateless fence towards the main entrance. This had to be it.

Why did a Hunter care to be taken to such a place?

The wooden stairs leading up to the door groaned as I took my first step upon them. There was nothing steep about them, but it felt as though I climbed the face of a mountain with a boulder attached to my side, ready to pull me backwards without warning.

I could never have expected to enter a church like this; a fey, unwanted by their religion, alongside a Hunter who worshipped a different god. As I lifted a shaking arm, rapping my knuckles against the door, I couldn’t help but recognise just how much my life had changed in a short time.

Time stretched out. I was confident no one would answer. I knocked again; this time harder, with desperation. I’d almost given up hope when I heard shuffling of heavy feet on the other side.

The door was thrown open, the warm glow of orange flame washing across us. “The Creator never rests, but his servants do. Could this not wait for dawn or do your sins require immediate repentance?”

Haloed in the light stood an ancient, stout man. He was short, belly pressing outwards in the cream, dress-like shawl he wore. His hair was clumped in white billowy tufts at the side of his head, leaving the top hairless and shiny. He carried a candle within a brass cup, lifting it out towards us as though his eyesight was poor.

I could only imagine what went through the old man’s mind, looking out upon a grime-covered fey and a limp, unconscious man who bore the white hand mark of his faith upon a blood-covered jacket.

“My, my.” He clutched at his chest, scrunching the material of his shawl into a ball as though his heart hurt. Amber eyes flickered from me to Duncan and back again, wiry, long-haired brows pinching into a scowl. “What a sorry sight this is.”

Should I have said something? I couldn’t find the words, except one that came out of me with ease.

“Help.”

After a tense moment of silence, the man shuffled to the side, moving away from the entrance. “I think it’s best you both come inside.”

I hesitated, looking into the narrow corridor before me. There was nothing more than candles dripping down the walls and a long, red carpet runner. Most of the doors I could see were closed, all besides the one at the far end which was left open at an angle.

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