Page 148 of Eldritch
Aleysia’s dress fell out of my hand, a cold shiver stitching across my skin.
The twitch of an arm seized my attention, and I stared in on a little girl, perhaps no older than five years old, who shifted against the bigger body that lay beside her.
I darted forward for the iron lock and tugged to see if it might click open. “Can you open this one?”
“A door, yes. Not that variety of lock though.”
“A lock is a lock, Aleysia.”
“Clearly, you don’t know your locks. There are fetterlocks, pin tumbler locks. That’s a warded lock. It requires a key.”
“Well, I don’t have time to search for one.” I took two big steps back until I was once again standing beside Aleysia.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Stay out of the way.” I flipped up my palm and called upon the bone whip. The glyphs scarred across my skin surged to life, glowing a pale blue, and the spine uncoiled onto the floor. Fingers wrapped tight to bone, I struck the lock, which clanked but didn’t budge. I drew back and struck again. No more than a dent. Again. An impressive fissure, but overall intact. On the fourth strike, it unlatched, hanging cocked from the cell bar. I recoiled my hand, drawing the whip back to my palm, and lurched for the door, tossing away the lock.
Once inside the cell, I stepped over small, frail bodies, careful not to disturb them, and knelt down beside the little girl. Pale as the snow, only a feverish blush colored her cheeks. In her arm, she clutched a ragged teddy bear covered in dirt andgrime. Her dampened, dirty hair was darker than the others, and I wondered if she was a child of Foxglove Parish, or from somewhere else.
Tiny, abrupt movements on the opposite side of her drew my attention to a rat gnawing one of her fingers. The sight of it stirred my anger as I swatted at it. “Shoo! Go away!”
The rat scampered off, leaving behind a bloody gash.
I glanced around at the other children, noticing small gashes on their bodies, too.
The girl let out a weak whimper, and I slid my hand beneath her head, lifting her up just enough to rest her head against my thigh. Blood trickled out of her eyes and nose. “Mama?”
Tears wavered in my eyes as I held her in my lap, stroking her hair.
“Nalapox,” Aleysia said, kneeling beside her. “All of them must’ve suffered from it. She’ll die, too.”
“No, she’ll be fine.”
Aleysia reached for the girl, but I clutched her arm. “Death would be merciful,” she urged.
“Don’t you touch her.”
Her brow flickered as if I’d slapped her with an insult, and she glanced around. “Look at their faces, Maevyth. They died in agony.”
Reluctantly, I swept my gaze over the cell, heartbroken to find every child’s face contorted in pain. Through a blur of tears, I turned back toward the little girl in my arms. “I can take your pain away,” I whispered. “Do you want to dream?”
The little girl nodded, her blue-tinged lips quivering. “Cold ...”
My throat tightened, and I swallowed back the urge to weep. “You’ll feel warmth soon.” Tears spilled onto my cheeks as I stroked her hair, keeping my blackened fingers away from herskin. “Close your eyes and imagine your mother’s arms wrapped around you. Can you feel her warmth?”
The girl gave a weak nod.
“Does she sing to you?”
Again the girl nodded, the movement nearly imperceptible.
My voice faltered with the first note ofVayr mu dahlje.
“Maeve …” Aleysia turned away, but I caught the shine of tears in her eyes, while I sang for the little girl, gently stroking her hair.
“Stay there with your mother. In her arms.” I placed my hand against her chest and closed my eyes, summoning the death glyph to mind.
“Mommy,” the girl whispered, and her body gently disintegrated into dust, leaving behind the teddy bear that lay beside her remains. Before I could so much as whisper goodbye, she was gone.
