Page 46 of Eternal Ruin
Kidan Adane was in a cramped, damp cell.
There was a rotten smell, thick in the air like putrid fog. She restricted her breathing so she wouldn’t inhale it. But more urgent, her stomach was convulsing on itself, her mouth and tongue dry as cracked salt mines. She wasstarving.
Hunger had always been uncomfortable but never excruciating. She could feel her body eating itself, using the last reserves of fat and consuming muscle and tissue.
Food. I need food.
But even food couldn’t quench this maddening lust. She wanted something red and liquid to glide down her sandpapered throat and end her thirst.
Blood. Yes, blood.
The word slammed a sliver of consciousness into her. She was dreaming.
In the complete dark, she stretched out her arms, and dangling from her brown hands was a single finger bone chain.
GK… she was dreaming of him again. It was the fourth time since his death. She could never see his face, only his hands and the finger bone chain.
Clink, clinking.
A memory of their early-morning walks invaded, melting away the crypt.
The entire ground was abandoned, and fog still kissed the closely trimmed grass. Kidan always shuddered in the absolute vacuum of the morning, the lack of distraction in the shape of bustling students, or coffee and sweet pastries in the air. She hated the quiet of being alone. GK’s finger bones accompanied them, playing an eerie tune as they took the overgrown path outside the campus and he showed her the monastery up in the mountains. As a Mot Zebeya, GK was content in the swelled silence, but Kidan had always shifted uncomfortably, asking him questions often so her stifling thoughts wouldn’t eat her whole.
“So what do you think the Last Sage’s name is?” GK’s eyes brightened whenever he shared about his faith, and Kidan would ask him about the Last Sage and Demasus the Fanged Lion, their creation of Dranacti.
The wind caught in his chains, black turtleneck hiding a part of his chin. “No one knows except for Demasus. That is the beauty of it. The elders teach us names are powerful bonds themselves, as binding as any law. The Last Sage gave Demasus a new name too. In the end, they could understand each other without words.”
She slid him a glance. “You don’t really believe all that, do you?”
“Of course I do.”
“Yusef named you Giorgis.” She smiled. “I guess you’re bonded to him.”
GK let out an exasperated laugh. “Don’t wish such a thing on me.”
She tilted her head up to the clear sky, smiling. “I don’t think you’re a Giorgis, though. I read about a mythical figure who visits orphans, leaves them a piece of his feather so they can speak to him whenever. You kind of remind me of that.”
GK’s smile was gentle. “What was his name?”
“Kasayn.”
Kidan’s eyes flew open, her heart launching against her ribs. She was still reeling from GK’s voice in her ear, so vivid and close.
She had fallen asleep reading his journal. A specific page she couldn’t get out of her head. There werehersymbols—a triangle, a square, and a circle drawn in constant loop. Some forming other complex patterns.
It could be a coincidence. But something told her there was more here.
An explanation to this weird connection between them.
Kidan.
The pained voice came inside her head. Kidan stiffened, squeezed her eyes shut, and opened them. It sounded like GK, only suffering. Hairs stood down the length of her arms.
“It’s the house,” she said aloud, her voice trembling.
But the house manipulated visions, played tricks in the outside world. This felt inside her soul, a call she couldn’t explain.
Biting hard on her lip, she called out, “GK?”
