The Tree, Page 4

  Eyes, dozens of small eyes, watched her from the underbrush. They glowed white and reflected the pieces of moonlight that made their way through the thick canopy here. She stayed still and the eyes simply watched for a moment before every one of the bright reflected spots shifted to the left, as if they were all watching the same thing. She darted her eyes in that direction and caught a hint of movement.

  What was coming through the woods was like nothing she had ever seen. Its flesh blended into the shadowed night even better than the clothing she had been given. She could barely see it as it moved slowly toward her. Every few steps it stopped and, when still, it became almost invisible. She froze, tracing its movement as best she could.

  The hint of shape she made out was similar to a ‘dant, but there were other shadows around its head that said it was anything but. It could be one of the rarer Antes; either rare in Zebub or rare altogether, but some tightening of her stomach and a sense of foreboding made her doubt that.

  Lil backed toward the light, all the while reaching for her knife. It was meager protection but better than nothing. She purposefully grasped the blade of the knife, letting her blood flow along the edge of it. In her mind she imagined the older ‘dant symbols for blood and fire. The language was old. Though not as old as Babel, it was no longer used and still held power in the lines of it.

  She tried to hold back a grunt as her blood turned to flame at the site of the cut. There was no actual flame or light when she glanced down, but she could feel from the heat that she held unprotected flame in her palm.

  Lil would probably never know if it had been the scent of her blood or her barely withheld grunt as her hand burned, but whatever was in the forest with her let out a small growl. She moved closer to the tree, hoping to blend into the shadows, but she could see the small ripple of movement as the thing’s head followed her. It took a step forward, closer to the light, and she saw more of its form.

  It was almost as tall as she was, but wider in the shoulders and chest. Its skin was black and glittered slightly in the light. It moved forward and she stumbled to put the tree between the two of them. She could make a run for the clearing but there was no guarantee that the thing wouldn’t catch her in the short distance. Even now she heard it moving toward her. After looking around, she clamped the knife between her teeth and began to climb up the trunk in front of her.

  She discarded any consideration of quiet for speed and managed to make it two of her body lengths up the trunk before the thing came around the trunk itself. She held on tightly as it slammed its body into the tree, which swayed wildly. She heard no calls from the clearing. No questions. No fear. They could not hear what was happening, despite being only a few feet away. Lil assumed this was somehow related to the powers of the tree ring. The thing slammed into the tree again and her hold began to slip.

  She could not stay up here forever. It would knock her down soon enough. She could not call for help. Even if they could hear her, she no longer had her tongue. She could certainly not fight it. Not injured as she still was. Even as she held on to the tree trunk she could feel her wounds reopening with each of the creature’s blows.

  She looked down as it made another run at the tree, and was barely able to hold on this time. It turned to walk away for another attempt and Lil took her chance, dropping directly onto the thing’s back. The impact knocked her breath free and she nearly dropped the knife, but she wrapped her limbs around it and held on as it crashed back and forth trying to dislodge her. She felt cuts open in her back as extra limbs whipped around, trying to pry her off.

  She reached for its face with one hand that still burned with blood and fire. She tried to claw or burn its eyes out but all she felt was something smooth like glass and slightly damp and sticky. She made a fist and slammed it down on that part and the thing went crazy. So it did have eyes after all, simply different ones. It slammed to and fro and finally headed directly toward the ring of trees.

  They crashed into the clearing, Lil clinging to the thing’s back like a limpet. Immediately people ran in every direction. She glanced up and saw Kima running her way, which surprised her, but she had no time to think about it. She pulled the knife from her mouth and brought it down, striking again and again. It scored the black armor but did not pierce it.

  “Lil, let go!”

  Lil didn’t want to obey the voice, but her arms were weak and aching and so, almost of their own volition, they released the neck of the creature, and with its next heave she went flying directly into another warm body.

  “Get off me!”

  She recognized Assan’s voice and struggled to free herself from the tangle of limbs they now found themselves in. Lil rolled off of his body and moved to her feet. People moved all around her screaming, gathering their wares, trying to get away anyway they could. Assan cursed as he rose to his own feet. Now, in the light of the clearing, Lil could see the dark glittering skin of the thing clearly. She could see the large jaw open with its hundreds of needle-like teeth. She could see its large two-toed foot and its four-fingered hand. She could see the two extra appendages that sprouted from the thing’s shoulders; they had numerous joints and ended in sharp points.

  A loud blast reverberated through the clearing, and then another. Lil glanced at Kima and saw the woman fending off the thing with a long-bladed knife that did no damage Lil could see. Kima’s other hand held what Lil assumed was a pistol. She had never seen one before, though she had seen drawings and photographs. ‘dants in Zebub had always been banned from possessing or using them, and Antes didn’t need them. The shots from her gun seemed to knock the creature back even if they didn’t cause it any pain.

  Assan was on his feet as well, pulling another pistol from somewhere in his pants. She was closer so she could see the way it was patched, different metals and clamps holding it together. She watched the blast twist the creature around. In the light of the clearing she could confirm that this was no Ante. This was something created. Its body looked whole and well proportioned but she could see the seams in its hide; the places where things had been almost-perfectly attached.

  The cut in Lil’s palm had already healed over, tight and pink. Blood magic tended to take care of itself. So she cut into her fingertip until the blood flowed freely and used the red liquid to write on the blade of her knife again. In the same old ‘dant language she painted symbols for piercing and breaking. She moved quickly while it was distracted by Kima’s attack.

  Lil moved behind the creature and struck, plunging her knife into the narrow seam that she could see between arm and torso. The knife stuck there as the thing hit her and she went flying again, this time into a table. More of her wounds were open. She could feel the small trickles of blood. She reached for her stomach and felt the lump of the root still secure in her shirt and something else. The knot of wood. She pulled it out and stared at the leaves and acorns that had begun to sprout from it.

  She looked up.

  Kima had stopped using the gun. Lil watched as she threw it behind her to where Uchel stood. The older woman immediately began to fuss with it. Kima meanwhile moved as quickly as possibly, dodging the arms and other limbs focused on her. Assan had moved behind the thing and was lining up a shot.

  Lil looked down at the quicky growing wood in her hand and ran to Assan as quickly as her body would allow. She pulled on his arm and he rounded on her.

  “What do you think—”

  She made a sound in frustration and slapped him across the face. He froze and she used her grip on his arm to swing him back toward the fight. She pointed at the hilt of her knife, still sticking from the thing’s shoulder blade.

  Assan stared at her.

  “Are you kidding me? That’s impossible.”

  Lil simply pointed again.

  Assan sighed and rubbed his free hand over his face, watching as Kima did her best to hold off the thing.

  “Okay, I’ll try, but you have to get it to be still for long enough to line up the sho
t.”

  Lil nodded and headed for Kima and the thing. She could see that Kima was slowing and it would only be a moment before the thing killed her. She moved to its other side and picked up some larger stones from the ground. Lil forced the wound on her hand open again and called the painful fire back to her hand but this time she pushed it into the rocks rather than letting it rest in her hand.

  The rock exploded when it struck the thing, knocking it forward. It turned and moved toward her. She held up the second stone and it hesitated. Assan took the shot in that moment and she knew he had succeeded as the creature let out a loud high-pitched scream.

  Its body shook and limbs reached for Lil, who rolled out of the way. She hissed as she rolled onto the bleeding wounds on her side. The thing turned back to Assan and Lil forced her weary body to rise. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled free the knot of wood and one of the pieces of the root from its bag of velvety darkness. As the thing slammed Assan down to the ground and wrapped its hands around his neck, she reached them and pushed the knot of wood and root into the wide gash of pink in its armor where her knife had been.

  Lil dredged up whatever raw power was left in her exhausted body and slammed it into the creature’s wound as well. It let go of Assan and turned to reach for her but she had already fallen to the ground and rolled away. It did not follow. It had more important things to worry about.

  Its body shook and shivered, but since it was facing her, Lil did not see the moment it started. She did see the branches that began to curve around its shoulders, though. And the bark that began to grow over its form. The thing tore at the bark with hand and spike but it did not matter. The tree continued to grow at a rapid rate. Soon the bottom half of its body was covered and rooted into the ground. The bark was an odd mix of light and dark just as the knot had been. As its face was covered by bark the thing met her eyes and Lil could swear she read sorrow and thanks in its gaze.

  As the tree finished growing around it, Lil smiled and passed out.

  BYRON

  Byron ran his fingers through his hair over and over. He had no idea what he was doing anymore. There had been a time when there was a plan and a purpose, but he’d come so far since then and he worried he had lost his way. Ruth’s spirit had faded, no longer there, inside him, ready to offer advice. Now only her power remained entwined with his own. He was alone.

  He turned back to his ill-chosen allies. They were reclining on the couch, their injuries healed, and their arrogance returned. Byron regretted his decision to grant them some small measure of his power. He had not wanted to leave them unprotected and Ruth’s power was easy to parcel out to others.

  “You fools. I told you over and over this is a different world in more ways than just looks.”

  “We were boooooooored.”

  This was the only thing that Bastion and Melisande had said since he had saved their worthless lives. The Antes were obviously on the run from something. Why else would they be in the House of the Madame in the majority ‘dant neighborhood of The Drowned? Even if the Hunt had not been loose in the streets since he arrived, he would have noticed the oddity of it.

  He snapped his fingers and they both screamed and slumped off the couch, boneless and limp: the power that he had laid into their bones was now ripping itself from their frames. He pulled the power out halfway and then allowed it to snap back into their bodies.

  They made little noises and began to gulp air.

  “You will listen to me.”

  They both continued to gasp, and he stomped over to them.

  Crouching and reaching forward, he grabbed them both by their hair and brought their faces close to his own.

  “Let me make this very clear. You are only of use to me if I can rely on you. If you do not listen to what I say I will have no problem stripping you of my power and leaving you on the streets to die horrible, painful deaths.”

  There was fear in their eyes, and a growing hatred. He was used to hatred, but he knew it meant their usefulness was now on a deadline. They would turn on him. Though not tonight.

  They both nodded and Byron abruptly released them so their heads fell back against the floor with painful thumps. He looked at them. Even in this moment he did not know why he had brought them along. A part of himself he was long used to ignoring tried to inform him that the reason was loneliness, but he turned his attention away.

  There was no way to change what had to be and therefore no point in feeling bad about it. Instead he focused on their next step. His contact should have gotten a message to him by now. The continued silence left him worried.

  “My allies should be arriving very soon,” Byron said.

  “You’ve been saying that the whole time we’ve been here.” The words were somewhat disrespectful but the tone was subservient enough, so he merely stared at Melisande until she looked away.

  “Yes, well, the presence of the Hunt has most likely made it difficult for them to make contact.”

  Byron had left the House of the Madame since they had arrived, though he had forbidden the two of them from doing so. He had walked the streets and seen the patrols of Antes, moving through the city. He’d also seen both species leaving every day in small clumps. The Antes had a plan, he had no doubt. The humans did not, as far as he knew, so why would they be packing? Where did they think they could go?

  He had many questions but no way to satisfy his curiosity until he was contacted. In many ways, he had the Organization to thank for making contact with his allies in Zebub. The time he spent under their . . . reeducation had left him with a lot of time wishing to be outside his body. With power, sometimes wishes came true. By the time they had deemed him ready to serve as a useful tool for the Organization? He’d already had his own contacts. His own plans. His own destiny.

  If his own world would treat him so harshly, then his world needed to be changed. And no world had ever been changed without a few sacrifices along the way.

  The Door knocked and stuck their head in without a welcome. It was their house after all.

  “The Hunt has arrived. You will all come down for an inspection.”

  Before they left, Byron shot Melisande and Bastion a look.

  “You will say nothing in front of The Hunt. You will pretend you have no voice or I will rip my power from your bones. Then I will rip your bones from your body.”

  It was a crude threat, but they were crude followers. They moved to the main room of the House and saw The Door looking stunning as always, a bloodred sheath of fabric wrapped about them that matched the drawn lines on their hands and delicate bare shoulders. They stood facing over a dozen Antes. Byron recognized half of the forms in front of him—the ones that were similar to other Antes who had crossed over on his watch—but the other half he had never seen before. They encompassed every shape and size; there were two figures barely two feet tall that looked like masses of red twine, tangled and dripping blood, that had been twisted into vaguely arachnid forms; a giant golden serpent sporting a human face; a wheel of eyes and a cyclone of air; a ruddy-skinned giant hovered in the back, its face dominated by one large circular eye that constantly watered and leaked. Some were blocked from view by the ones he could see but Byron assumed their presence based on the odd glimpse of limb or eye as they shifted.

  Byron felt the shift in the air as Bastion and Melisande went stiff behind him. He could feel their eyes boring into his back, as well as the tension and fear they both now radiated. Perhaps he had been wrong to shield them from the outside. A little fear would have been more useful than his unheeded warnings.

  “You are currently the only guests in the building. They would like to ask you some questions.”

  Byron did not bat an eye at being called the only guests. The Door met his eyes without fear and Byron doubted there would be any evidence to contradict The Door’s story.

  “Of course. As the Ruling Courts wish,” Byron answered, voice steady.

  He glanced back at Bastion and Melisande and
let his power flow into his voice.

  “My servants will of course cooperate as well and do whatever I say.”

  Both of them nodded decisively. He could see the anger and resentment in their eyes. Granting them a trace of his power would make them more aware of when he used it but there was no room for any dissention now. He deliberately did not close the loop of power. He could have given the command duration or limit but leaving it open like this kept it linked to him. He would have to maintain it from his own power but it would release only when he allowed it.

  The wheel of eyes rolled forward slowly, circling him.

  “This is Killa’ila,” The Door said as they stepped back.

  And them. The voice sounded in Byron’s head and he showed none of his surprise.

  The Ante’s eyes all flicked to Bastion and Melisande behind him.

  “They are mine. Not very smart, but I cannot abandon them yet. They may yet be of some value to me. They know nothing that I do not know.”

  The mass of eyes came closer, stared into his own with a dozen of its own of varying colors and shapes. It was not the odd ones that made Byron uncomfortable, not the eyes that looked like jewels or the one that looked like lips wrapped around eyes rather than an eyelid. No, it was the more human eyes that shook him. The dark brown eyes that reminded him of Matthias, and the black one that made him think of Ruth. He fell into those eyes and was back in the house with Ruth, both of them naked and painted with each other’s blood.

  Sacrifices were made.

  Then he was back in the opulent, gold-accented room, and the wheel of eyes was rolling away.

  They know nothing of the ones we hunt.

  The other Antes took its word and slowly began to file out. Some looked back at Byron and his minions, but he had no experience interpreting the many different faces and expressions. The Door, however, was smiling, and Byron got the feeling they had known how this whole thing was going to turn out all along.