Page 27 of Humans Don't Have Horns
My deaths were not quick. They took days. Days of paralyzing pain and fear. The cruel poison of a monster. She enjoyed it. The slow progression of it. Tilil could use any poison, but she chose the most sadistic of them all. The Renyan kiss is produced from the venom of a tiny spider called the Streaky for its bright blue-and-red stripes. No animal or insect alive has such awful venom: one that guarantees a prolonged and excruciating death no matter the victim’s size.
And my mother knew. She was such a gifted healer that she knew what was killing us and that only a Renyan could have poisoned us. But true to Renya until the very end, she would never tell. Because to admit to the Aldonians that Renyans use such poisons, to tell them of our secrets, would be a betrayal. There is an antitoxin. She knew that too. But she would rather die, in the worst way, than betray Renya.
And I might have found it noble if she hadn’t known it was killing me as well.
I ride with no stops, and arrive at Milasurey at noon. Tilil is in a meeting with the council. She hates those meetings, but she must keep up the appearance of a free council. Therefore, she is stuck with Bina, the head of the opposition, in those meetings. I shouldn’t interrupt such a meeting. Tilil gets irascible from them. And she wouldn’t want to hear of the demichads for the first time in the presence of the head of the opposition. But those meetings can last for hours, and the delay can cost so many lives. My guards’ deaths already haunt me. I can not wait.
I enter the council hall, and all eyes turn to me. I changed into the clean clothes the villagers gave me, and still, I’m dirty and smeared with blood.
“What is the meaning of this?” Tilil asks with an expression that may appear concerned. But monsters don’t feel such things.
“A demichad attacked us on our way to Modos. I am the onlysurvivor.” The sob that escapes me is real. I do not mean to sob, but I let the emotion burst out of me.
“That is impossible,” one of the council members cries, aghast. “Aldon defeated the demichads. No one has seen them for a hundred years.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time Aldon has made up truth to serve its rulers,” Bina says wryly. I hate that old hag. Being supported by her rubs me all the wrong ways.
Tilil looks at me, and I can tell she is furious. “Where was this?” Her voice has lost that honeyed tinge she likes so much.
“In Aldon, about an hour from Modos, on King’s Road.” And then I add because they all seem to miss the emergency of it, “More are coming.”
“How can you be sure?” another member of the council asks. “That more are coming? Maybe it was just this one.” I promised Lian I would tell them she was dead. Telling them she spoke to the demichad would also be wrong. I remember what the Butcher said to her, that I would tell them of her powers. But what else can I do? How can I make them believe it wasn’t just one demichad? If they stay in their smug disposition, millions will pay for it with their lives.
“It spoke to Lian, and it said they were never defeated. They were asleep,” I tell them as they all look at me like I’ve grown a second head. Except for Bina and Tilil. My aunt smiles at me, a smile that has always given me the creeps. It never means anything good.
“It spoke to your sister, and then it killed her? And only you survived?” she asks, tilting her, still smiling in amusement. She doesn’t believe me. Goddess, I am so fucked. I will survive this though. That is my curse. Always to survive.
“That is what I said,” I answer through clenched jaws. I’m not in the mood for her fucking game. We both know I’m lying, so she can just get on with it.
Then that hag Bina rumbles, “Our submission to Aldon is due to their defeating the demichads. If the demichads are back, Renya can walk free again.”
“Millions are going to die!” I snap at her, losing my temper. “What is wrong with you? We need to save the people. Can’t politics wait?”
“And how are we to save them, Siean?” Bina asks. “Our Queen will turn to Aldon for military protection, since we no longer have an army, and they will tighten their grip on us in return for it. But if they never defeated the demichads, what is the point in that?”
It doesn’t matter what Bina says. She is one of seven council members. She is the only one who ages, the only one not to consume the Cursed Ones’ horns. And after the part she played nine years ago in creating the shitstorm I call my life, she should wake up every morning with gratitude to still be breathing. Righteous crone.
I am still startled by what she says. If Aldon can’t protect us, no one can. They are the only ones with an army since the War of Light. What was the point in hurrying and warning them? We are all going to get eaten by the fucking demichads.
***
The white houses of Milasurey are the perfect canvas for the pink light the sunset casts on Renya. The sweetness of the jasmine is thick in the summer heat. Tilil left an hour ago to Aldon to warn them of the demichads. She hasn’t punished me yet, only said I was to think of my actions until she returned. The waiting is just part of the punishment. The dread of the expected cruelty, the memories of blood and the female screams too hard to suppress while waiting. Sometimes I’m not sure whose blood it is, whose screams pierce the air. But Tilil can no longer hurt anyone I love. I made sure of that. I let Anya go. I secluded myself. Let her punish me. I’m too tired to care anymore.
Bina has been trying to speak to me since the meeting. I’ve been avoiding her. I hurry to my chambers, exhausted and craving a bath to wash the remains of blood from me. The remains of Didia.
But as I open the door, my chambers are not empty. And it takes every ounce of self-control I have not to crumble and sob, not to go to my knees and beg for her embrace, for her love, for her forgiveness.But instead of all that, I will wound her today because she can’t be here. Not now. Not when Tilil contemplates my punishment, not as her spies might realize and share the perfect place to hit me.
“Get out,” I say in my well-practiced domineering voice, but Anya ignores it as she rises from my bed and takes in my bloodied and disheveled appearance. Her beautiful face grows wary at the sight of me, and her big aqua eyes fill with emotion. I know she came here despite herself, that she hates herself for not being able to stop caring. It’s been like this for years. She doesn’t want to love me. And some awful part of me takes pleasure in it. That I mean so much to her. That it’s not only me who is consumed with love. The Goddess has a sadistic sense of humor. Always has.
“It’s true, then? The demichads are back?” she asks, with a voice almost as sulky as mine.
“Get out” is the only answer I give her. I take a few steps into the room, not bothering to close the door behind me. She shouldn’t have come. I’m not worth her pain, and I’m sure not worth her death.
Tilil hates her as it is. Even without knowing of us. It is rare for a healer to advance so quickly in the royal healers’ ranks as Anya did. Especially coming from a simple background like hers, growing up in a small, distant village. Her father died of illness when she was just a baby. She was ten when her mother passed. They were so poor that when Anya first arrived in Milasurey, her feet were bare. She had walked barefoot to the capital to find a job. At ten, Anya knew of healing as much as most healers in Milasurey, if not more, having helped her mother as a midwife since she was old enough to walk. The royal healers took her in despite her background. She was so gifted as a healer that she started working for the palace at sixteen.
That’s when I first met her. Only I never aged, and she is now standing in front of me, a beautiful twenty-five-year-old woman. That was her worst sin against Tilil. Far worse than her origins. So Anya rarely comes to the palace these days, and while she should be the chief healer, she stopped rising in the ranks years ago.
She didn’t want to love me. I represented every privilege shedespised. But she did because the Goddess is cruel. What other reason could there be?
