* * *
Lyric
* * *
I watch. I watch Myles from behind a big, safe, sturdy rock. I watch him hack into one of the walking corpses with that great big sword of his. He runs one of them through with a plunging motion that I wouldn't think possible, but somehow yes, he does manage to completely skewer the once-person with that bastard sword. He pulls back then, to draw the blade out.
Then a grimace passes over his face, a sawing sound cuts through the air, and he realizes the blade is stuck in the monster's ribcage. Meanwhile, a growl cuts through the air... or a mutter, or something else. They always sound like they're talking to us. That's the worst part, maybe.
Myles is definitely stuck, his grimace now a look of pure confusion. "Thete? You killed it, right?" He wiggles the hilt of his sword, but the corpse stays on it. Worse, it flails at him a bit, and makes what sounds like a whimper.
I almost hear the Arms growl in reply, but that might be another of the corpses that I can't see. Yet.
"I don't see any more around you, Myles! You just have to deal with that one, okay?" It's dark out here, but I'm pretty sure he's clear. Maybe it was a bad idea to check this place out for clues. Well, okay, it was a terrible idea, but it was Myles that had it, so I don't feel too bad about calling it out as terrible.
"Deal with that one." He scowls. "Make it sound easy, why don't you?" The corpse flails at him again, and the motion's more someone reaching out for help than attacking. My chest wrenches a little. I almost want to help it. Her. I see a glint in the starlight and recognize the telltale pin on her. Whatever this monster is now, she used to be a Poet. She was kind of scrawny, too. I count myself kind of lucky that I didn't know any Poets who are still missing, because otherwise I might have to worry about recognizing her. She lets out a gurgling cry of anguish, grasping for Myles again. I really want to reach out now, and have to restrain myself not to.
Then something reaches out to me and squeezes its narrow digits into my shoulder. I scream. The high-pitched sound cuts through the dark desert, betraying to all the surrounding world that a person is in trouble here, and that she is likely a ten-year-old girl.
"Lyric! What's-- oh dammit--" and Myles is struggling with his attacking corpse and I'm faced with one looming over me, and two behind her.
The man gripping me looks into my eyes, his solid white eyes pleading with me even as his nose wrinkles and sniffs. He doesn't look old and rotting, no matter if he's dead or not - but his mouth's torn open in a terrible gash. He sucks in breaths as he talks, like he's sobbing with the words. "I-- I just-- want-- want to--" He sniffles. "Just want you-- please-- hungry? Smell good--"
There's the sound of cloth tearing, and then I'm bolting across the desert, the ripped shoulder of my tunic gaping open. He can eat the scrap of cloth that came away in his grip if he wants. He's not having any part of me!
"LYRIC!" Myles calls out, but I'm not waiting up for him. I smell good to these things, for Judgement's sake! I hear that grinding-through-ribcage sound again, and then he's panting, running behind me. He's got longer legs than me and is really more of a physical guy, so it's no surprise that he manages to catch up. I think he might have hurt his leg, though. He's making a weird scuffling noise while he runs.
It doesn't really matter to me now, because I'm putting more sand and night between the eaters and myself, and that's the most important thing in my life. For now.
Eventually we find the safe cave we've made into a base - I scan the surroundings quickly, and see no more of the eaters. Looks like we got off easy. I turn to Myles to state my relief. He claps his hand over my mouth before I can scream again.
He's been dragging that girl on his sword behind us all this time. We're lucky she's so damn light. She's dazed, making occasional attempts to crawl away, budging her chest against the sword's blade, then slumping to the ground with a sigh that's a bit of a gurgle. She really seems quite harmless.
"If you stay quiet," Myles says patiently, "we'll feed you."
My blood just turned to ice. I rub my arms and try to fight the dizzy feeling in my mind. Does he really mean--
"Food? Food." The girl's voice is a whisper and a rasp, but she does keep it very quiet. She's so hopeful. Her face is so pleading as she looks at Myles-- and hungry when she looks at me. I take a step back.
"Lyric, can you get out the trail rations? It's dinnertime." Myles sounds so calm and nonchalant, but he looks like a hawk, ready to dive and kill. I'm relieved by that, as scary as he is that way.
I dig around in his pack, then find his food. I'm not feeding corpse-girl my food, no matter how hungry she is.
* * *
Myles
* * *
Kiley looks away from me, sad once-brown eyes now milky and white. Someone else would think her blind, but I was born with better instincts than that. She plucks at the scrap of shirt that still hangs on her shoulders, the tatters just enough to still count as clothing, and still do the job of it. It's sobering even looking at her, and makes me start wondering...
Wondering about perspective.
She tears off a thread from the fraying ends of the shirt and begins to nibble on it, her face contemplative. Her eyes dart back up to me. Something on my neck tickles when those white pupil-less irises focus. I wonder if she can still Aim. I've seen plenty of Armed in those caves, but not a single set of Arms between them all.
She looks away again, ashamed. "I'm sorry," she whispers, the breath of it echoing metallic. Thete probably nicked into her windpipe a little. He's still sticking out of her, and refuses to budge if I ask him to.
I blink, looking at her over my helping of rabbit jerky and some-sort-of-bread. It's all a bit crunchy by now. "Sorry for what? You haven't done anything yet."
"Looking at you makes me hungry more than anything. It's... it's been a long time since they tossed anyone new in and..." She gnaws on another thread. Her dinner's long-gone, she swallowed it down like it was nothing, with no satisfaction when she did. "People make it a little better. They fill. For a little while and--" She chokes off, then starts sobbing into her hands, but her palms stay dry. They don't even bleed, why should they cry? "I'm so hungry. Armed are the tastiest, but Poets last the longest. Sandalphas lasted for days, the dear. In the dark, in the cave, I pray for Jhe Cade to toss in a Mixed! But it's been so long since he's come back. Nothing stops the... hungry. Just want food. Myles, can you get a villager? Maybe an old one, he'd die soon... we don't die. He wouldn't, afterward."
I sigh. "No, Kiley. I keep telling you that." It's not the first time she's asked, but I'm beginning to think she doesn't remember a lot from day to day. "Do you want to die?"
"Not as much as I want to eat." She pouts. "You used to be nice. You're still nice now, you feed me. But... maybe just a cat or something?"
I laugh. "I thought you said only Poets and Armed hit the spot." I hear Lyric gag on the other side of the rocks, and try not to smile.
"Yes but... anything..." She shakes. "I tried to eat the rocks once... once or twice. My teeth didn't break. I don't rot. I don't rot, Myles. I'll last forever, longer than the Judge, longer than the rocks. If anyone ever sees the end of it all, I'll be there, and... I'll be so hungry."
I sigh. "Thete would Judge you if he could. As it is, he's sticking to you so that you're not a danger to us. That's the most I can do, Kiley." I close my eyes, trying to think. What do I tell Jhe h'Akribastes? Who can fix this? What do we do for them until then?
I guess I'm not going to be the one to decide that.
Are we done with her? Thete growls up at me from Kiley's chest. I sigh.
"Kiley? Why do you stay near your cave?"
She shudders. "We get fed there. Or we used to. Guess maybe the glory days are over... I remember when I got a whole arm to myself, once. Might have been Jacob's, I can't be sure. He's whole now, he looks unscathed... we all look... normal enough afterward. Unless something happens. Or... I don't know, Jacob's face never really came back together. And I... I just feel..." She bites her lip, then chews on it before realizing that it'll do her no good. "I get sick when I think of normal people looking at what I am. I'm not all gored up... well, except for your sword, but I understand. My nails, though." They're gnawed down to the quick. "Even my toenails. It's not a lot, I know. But I see my eyes, sometimes, reflected in bits of metal. I remember what it was like to have normal eyes, and then I don't want to remember, and then I never want anyone to see me again." Those white eyes look out across the desert. They're full of longing, and not all of it is that raw hunger of hers. "No one sees us in the cave, and that's as close to right as we'll ever get again. When we were being fed, I was almost happy. I had a home, and nothing could hurt me anymore." She bites her lip again in a sideways gnaw. "Food doesn't come in anymore. Not the good stuff. And the good stuff... well, they're us now, so there's more, so we've got more to feed. Jacob chased down a rabid fox that crawled in one night, but how far does that go when there's so many of us now? And every now and then I think: am I being the logical one by thinking about these things, or is rationing for a herd of the damned an even more monstrous thing than just being one? Myles, really, you've got two hands. You only need one. That's what I hear about boys."
I laugh again, but the humor's gone. "Thete's a two-handed sword. I can wield him one-handed, but not forever. He wouldn't put up with the indignity."
She looks down at the sand under her knees. "I miss my Arms. I... I can't remember her name."
My blood goes a little cold.
"My mother's name, either. Or my brother's. Darella was my sister, I remember her... I bet she's tasty. I bet they're all so delicious. I wish they'd visit sometime. Maybe someday I'll go and visit them instead. I'd be hungry but..." Her eyes sparkle. "We all last forever now. Surely I'd make it."
I bite my own lip. "Maybe it would be better for you to stay in your cave."
She grins up at me. "If you come with me, dear sweet Myles."
Okay, that's creepy enough for me. I reach for Thete, and pull him clean out of her chest. He lets go this time. "Go home."
She looks me over like a steak dinner.
"I'll cut off your head. You won't be able to eat anything then."
Kiley's face crumples. She pouts. Then she turns, slowly, and trudges away to her home.
I sigh. "Pack up," I say to Lyric, never turning away from Kiley. "She'll just bring back the rest of them. We can't stay here anymore."
* * *
'Sy
* * *
I should know better than to look forward to getting up.
"Father. Lyric's been following us. He's lurking out there in the desert."
My brain has a total of two seconds to flip-flop into awareness enough for me to figure out what he's even talking about. Lyric's not lurking, of course he's out there where else would he be, but he's on our side--
Ah. Yes. Gerude wouldn't know about that last part. He wouldn't know because I chose not to tell him.
I try to make my actions look urgent for Gerude. I am sure he thinks he is alerting me to very imporant things. He is trying to do right by the law and by me. But dammit I don't want to have my adult-yet-strangely-adolescent-acting son hovering over me like an eagle that's spotted a mouse on my shoulder while I'm trying to get out of my bedroll and stumble over to a corner where I can just pee.
Three seconds into blessed relief, I look over at him sharply and say, "Some things come first, son."
He backs down, which tells me just how deep the grimace on my face must be right now. I have a few moments of peace to sort my thoughts into something coherent. He's discovered Lyric. That's unfortunate, but I knew it was inevitable. I was just hoping it wouldn't be nearly this soon! I'm almost proud of him for exceeding my expectations so thoroughly. Still... Lyric's secret can't get out, and Gerude doesn't need to know it to be able to do his duties, so it's time for me to figure out a way to handle this. And I need to figure it out somewhat quickly, because a man can only urinate for so long.
* * *
Erynn works on breakfast while Gerude glowers at me over our low-light campfire. We're about to move out. To Robinstead, in theory.
"We can catch him, Dad. Erynn saw him pretty recently. It's just been a couple hours and he can't have that many places to hole up. And you know how Lyric dresses, there's no way he'll blend out here in the sand and sand and... more sand!"
I bite my lip. Erynn hazards a look over at me, obviously curious as to what I'll say. And, well, that cinches it more than anything - I can't have the Poet knowing the information that could most get Lyric killed. Gerude must not catch Lyric, and I must not give away that it is my intent that Gerude fail in his aims. "The desert is a big place, 'Rude. And he's been able to find us once. He knows what to look out for. We may not be in the best position to chase down a rabbit right now." I sigh. "It was nice that he warn us about the caves. I was already aware of the danger, so I know he wasn't using it as a ruse to hide some operation with."
"Don't we need to investigate?" Gerude's eyes are burning. With importance, with urgency, with some need to do something. I understand. He is young, and my call to reason isn't going to hold as much sway as the call of a chase.
"The caves are not a secret to me, as I said. You might imagine that someone is already, in fact, investigating." I give him a meaningful look. Gerude's business isn't to mind the operations of the combined forces of every Armed. That is in fact my business.
He widens his eyes, then nods. Good. Understanding. That's a relief to see, coming from someone who can be a bit... impetuous. Especially as of late. He gets so severe, too. So serious. I suppose the Blackirons kid is good for him in that regard.
Gerude scoops out some soup from the kettle, then hands me the bowl before he scoops some for Erynn. "Do you think we can trust him not to give us away? He knows where we are. He's a traitor. He's dangerous, Dad!" Dammit, he's got me pinned with those eyes. They're so close to my own, but blue, and a little colder.
The sad truth is that he's right. It makes sense to hunt down Lyric. It would be strange not to try. Lyric sort of guaranteed a mess for himself, no matter what his good intentions. I almost decide to ask Myles just what he was thinking by sending Lyric out here with the warning, especially when he knew that I already knew about the caves, but perhaps Lyric did this on his own. He has a history of doing things on his own. I didn't exactly tell Myles to babysit him.
Well, I have no other choice, do I? "We'll scout around for him, but let's not stray too far from our path. There's the possibility that he's trying to draw us out for an ambush, or simply waste our time. We musn't forget that Robinstead is waiting for us, and we don't want to leave it open as a target." I give the words the weight they, in theory, deserve. But it's like when he and Gerald were little scraps going out on play missions that I'd lead. To me, it feels like some sort of hollow game.
It isn't a game to Gerude, though. And that's the worst part - if it's not a game for him, it certainly won't be for Lyric.
