White Stag Page 9
Thorsten spat red, his voice alight with pain and anger. “Someone you’re fond of? Disgusting. Maybe she’s not the only one messed up inside.” His gaze rested on mine. “There ain’t no going back to where you’ve been, girl! You’ve been corrupted. You set one foot in a town, and they’ll be on you like hounds. They’ll know! It’s not natural for someone to survive as long as you! Not natural, not at all!”
Coldness spread through my bones. Soren’s gaze flitted to me. He looked like he was trying to tell me something, but I couldn’t read his eyes.
Then he turned his gaze away to look at the broken man on the ground. “I protect my own,” he said simply, and with a heavy step, he broke the man’s neck.
The howling wind was the only noise for a few long minutes. I took a second to catch my breath before collecting the arrows I’d shot. Soren did the same. I forced myself not to look at him, not to talk to him, not to think about him. I protect my own. The scar on my arm from where he’d first performed a bind curse burned. I protect my own.
Anger rose inside me like an earthquake. I wasn’t human enough. I had been away too long. This was my fate, and it was all his fault. If he hadn’t singled me out, I would’ve died. I would’ve been happy dying and returning to my family in the afterlife. Even if he’d decided to kill me the day Lydian threw me at his feet, like he should’ve, then I’d be happier. I’d be with my family, feasting eternally. There’d be no more coldness, no more pain, no more bitterness and rage and shame threatening to overflow every single day. Instead, I was here, stuck, becoming a monster.
This was all his fault.
“Are you all right, Janneke?” he asked. “We need to get back to the others.”
I gritted my teeth. “No,” I said. “No, I am not all right. I will never be all right.”
Soren raised an eyebrow, confusion clouding his features. Did he expect me to thank him?
“You should’ve killed me,” I said, as the anger bubbled up to my lips. “You should’ve killed me when Lydian threw me at your feet. But you didn’t. Was I some experiment for you? Someone who survived when no one else did? Did you want to see how far you could push me? How far you could make me go until I snapped? Everything you’ve done, you say you want to help, but all you want is to fuel some twisted type of amusement your kind love so much. He’s right. You’re sick. Protecting me, keeping me from killing myself, as you say, for what? Because I amuse you? You’re disgusting. You—you—you—” I stopped, the intense emotions jumbling the words to garbled mush.
Soren was quiet. “You’re wrong,” he said. “I’ve never once delighted in seeing your pain. I’ve never once thought of hurting you.”
“Liar!” I spat.
“I can’t lie.” He stepped forward. “All I’ve done, I’ve done because I care for you.”
I took a step back, then another, and then another. “Don’t get any closer to me.” My voice shook. “You ruined me. You ruined me. I will never be the same again.” It hurt now, knowing this. I was surprised my body was still whole; the aching was so strong I was sure I’d split in half. The mangled spot where my right breast should’ve been began to sting, and every other scar on my body burned with the pain of knowing how far I’d gone.
“Come back with me, Janneke.” Soren’s voice was soft, almost pleading. “Come back with me, you’ll feel better soon.”
I took another step backward. “No. Never.”
“Janneke.” He came forward with his hand outstretched. “Come on, Janneke. You don’t feel well. You’re shaking. Let me help you, let me talk to you. Trust me, please. I can help.”
I shook my head. “No.” He can’t make the hurting stop. He couldn’t. Not when I was splitting apart.
“If you go, I can’t protect you from the others.”
“That’s exactly what I want,” I snapped, and turned, racing away into the tundra.
7
BIRTH
I RAN UNTIL the breath burned inside my lungs. The world whipped around me in streams of gray and blue and white. My eyes stung with the tears I was fighting to hold back.
I needed to leave. I needed to get out of here. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. The words echoed again and again in my head. If it wasn’t natural for me to have lived this long, then what if something was wrong with me—what if I had been unnatural before I even lived in the Permafrost?
My father always called me his little thinker. As a child, I could worm my way out of any situation with whatever means necessary. He would take me to the market because I could haggle down prices and barter better than anyone he knew. If I fought against the other men, I could use their words against them to make them look a fool. I noticed more than others. Being shrewd and resourceful helped me win the hunting games alongside the men, and those skills served me well in the Permafrost. Sometimes the other men would be angry, but my father would only laugh and exclaim that I didn’t take after him just in looks, but in brains too.
Just because you’re clever doesn’t mean something is wrong with you, I thought as I stopped to catch my breath. Even now, I could feel the pull of the bond between Soren and me slowly bringing me back to the Permafrost. My skin itched, knowing that we were bound by blood; even if I scrubbed myself all the way down to the bone, I would never get rid of that tainted feeling.
I turned and punched a skeleton tree. My hand cracked against the bark, and a shower of snow fell off the branches. I hit it again and again until my knuckles and the tree were smeared with blood. They stung like mad, but it gave me a release sweeter than honey.
I sank to my knees, my head in my hands. Wandering alone in the Permafrost was death—even without the hundreds of goblins currently out for blood. If I managed to stay alive by myself, it would be out of dumb luck, one thing I put zero stock in. And I couldn’t cross the boundary without Soren crossing first; even if he did, he would feel me. I still wasn’t goblin enough for the spell he put on me to break by its own accord. I was goblin enough for humans to notice, though. A small part of me withered and died. I’d nursed the hope of escaping, of being free back in some human town far, far away. But if these men could tell I was goblin-like, others would too. Thorsten was right; they’d be on me like hounds.
So, I was a monster, like them. There was a nagging inside of me that argued that Soren had saved me. That it was the humans—the ones who were supposed to be good—who tried to kill me. I remembered the fury blazing in Soren’s eyes as he attacked the men. That was because they were hurting me, not a piece of property that he owned. He reached out his hand because he was worried about me. And could I deny that even when running away, part of me worried about him with Elvira, about what might happen if the vicious she-goblin fought him? Could any part of me deny that I couldn’t picture Rekke as anything other than being sweet and innocent as any child despite her heritage? I couldn’t. Just like I couldn’t deny that despite the war going on in my head and the urge to cross the border back into the world of humans, I couldn’t see my life there anymore.
Running now, miles away from the Permafrost and with the Hunt in full swing, would kill me. Standing, I balled my hands into fists and forced myself to breathe evenly. As much as it killed me, I had only one rational choice of action. I sighed and started back, hoping I could catch up before they got too far.
* * *
WHEN I GOT back to the campsite, I was mildly surprised to see Soren and the other two goblins still there, talking among themselves. They hadn’t left me alone in the Permafrost after all.
As I stepped through the bracken, Soren caught my eye. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Rekke beamed when she saw me. “See? I told you she probably got lost following that lead. You should be more careful, Janneke. What if they’d actually been here still?”
“Yes,” Elvira said. “She should be more careful. Soren wouldn’t want to lose his protégé.”
Soren shot a warning glance at Elvira. “Well, considering we found another body
with its guts smeared across the forest floor, and the scent trail and power trail died after that, I’d say she’s fine.”
You don’t need to cover for me. Both of you know where I was. I don’t care if Rekke knows. I don’t care if that brings shame upon you. I kept my mouth shut, though. I might start screaming if I did otherwise.
Panic pawed at the ground when he saw me, his eagerness spilling through my limbs. I grabbed his bridle roughly, pulling his head down. “Not long ago you thought of escaping,” I muttered.
If he understood me, he didn’t show it, only jerking his head back. I mounted him and waited for Soren to take the lead. Surprisingly, he stayed back, allowing Elvira and Rekke to go forward. Shock was plain on Rekke’s face; I figured this was the first time she had the honor of riding before a goblin such as Soren. Elvira hid her thoughts better, but I could still see through to the surprise underneath her icy mask. Obviously, she hadn’t expected Soren to give up the lead any time soon.
I kicked Panic into a canter and started after them, not bothering to let Soren catch up with me. I didn’t want to hear whatever he had to say. I wasn’t ready—close, but not quite. His eyes burned on the back of my neck, never leaving my body as our horses ran the twisted route the silver prey line took. The silver line turned sharply away from the border of the Permafrost, plunging deep into the west of the territory.
I’d never been to the lands west of the Erlking’s domain, so when warm air hit my skin, at first I thought it was my imagination. The hot air hung heavy with humidity like a hazy summer day. The grasses and trees surrounding our path were burnt black by lightning strikes and charred with ash. The scent of burning lingered in the air.
Soon the air weighed heavy in my lungs as the smothering heat covered me. Panic’s laboring breath grew heavier with each stride, until I was forced to let him go at a slower pace.
“We’re in the Fire Bog.” I jumped as Soren spoke from beside me.
I grunted something unintelligible, unwilling to start an actual conversation.
As usual, Soren’s abysmal social skills didn’t manage to pick up the message. “You came back. I knew you would.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I need to tell you something,” he said, nudging his steed closer to me.
I recoiled. “I don’t want to talk to you, or hear you gloat about being right, or listen to you try to explain how this is all for my benefit, or anything. If you try, I swear I’ll take my axe to you, you lilac-eyed bastard.” I spat the words out venomously, the anger and hate, for Soren, for myself, for the accusing thoughts in my head, for everything, begging to be let out. “I don’t care that you saved my life! It doesn’t make you any better. You’re a monster, you all are.”
Soren growled low in his throat. “What exactly is a monster to you, Janneke? You hunt down a doe, and she believes you’re a monster with her dying breath. A dog kills a rabbit and a mountain lion kills the dog. Which is the monster there?” He jerked his head to where Rekke rode. “Is she a monster because she’s on the Hunt, or is Elvira, because she’s trying to kill her? Or are the monsters the ones who tried to slay you for attempting to save their lives? What exactly is a monster?”
A shadow of doubt flickered across my face, but I said nothing, instead looking away from him.
“My point is we’re all monsters to someone or something by some definition. It’s the context of the situation that matters.” His eyes rested on mine as the gnawing feeling from before grew in the pit of my stomach. There was a beat of silence before he continued. “You know I’m right. I can see your jaw clenching. You always do that when you don’t want to admit you’re wrong.”
I breathed out hard and slowly unclenched my jaw. “Do not.”
“Do too.” A challenging look sparkled in his eyes.
“Not.”
“Too.”
“I do not.” I felt my lips beginning to twitch into a smile and set my jaw hard, adamant that I would not prove him right.
“You’re literally doing it right now,” he cried out, causing Elvira and Rekke to look at us strangely.
“You’re making it really hard to continue being angry,” I said, shaking my head.
“I’m irresistible.” He said the words so seriously that I couldn’t help but give an unladylike snort of laughter.
“Insufferable, more like.” I rolled my eyes.
“I actually resent that.” A smirk played on Soren’s lips. “You know what they say about those who protest too much…”
I was saved from responding when we met up with Elvira and Rekke. Elvira’s snow cat was pawing the ground, leaving dark furrows in the earth. A harsh smell churned in the air; I crinkled my nose. Rekke was giving me a knowing grin from where she sat on her horse and all-but-mouthing, I told you so.
“What is it?” I turned away from her, feeling my face heat up.
Elvira turned her tense body toward me. “Something is off. Can you smell the air?”
“I smell it,” I said. The strong sulfur-like stench was hard to ignore now. My eyes were stinging and watering while Panic flattened his ears and snorted. “Do you know what it is?”
Elvira shook her head and anxiety flashed across her face. “No.”
There was a muffled thump as Soren dropped to the ground and put his ear against the mud. He listened, then let out an agonizing hiss, jerking back from the ground.
“Go!” he yelled, as he climbed onto his horse and kicked it forward.
“What is it?” I asked.
An odd sucking sound emitted from the ground below us as sulfurous clouds blotted out my vision. Panic whinnied in alarm as I urged him toward Soren and Elvira’s distancing figures. Rekke raced next to me, her small, lithe body crouched forward on her stallion. She urged him ahead with a hushed voice, but I could hear her panic breaking free. The sucking sound grew louder and louder, catching up to us, and I looked back in horror to see the ground collapsing behind us and dropping away into a never-ending abyss.
Yellow gas spewed from bubbles in the bog mud, emitting a toxic odor that had me swaying in my saddle. I gripped the reins harder, wrapping them around one of my hands. “Go, Panic! Go!”
Panic charged ahead, leaving Rekke in the dust. The tremors from the sinking ground boomed like thunder, and the rising mist burned my skin like acid. I screamed as the skin on my arms burned and blistered, as my vision turned black and I swayed in my saddle. Soren looked behind him, eyes wide as they locked onto mine.
My arm throbbed, the bright red skin burning, swelling, as bulbous blisters spread across its length. I gritted my teeth in pain as they burst and sickly yellow pus spilled down my arm. The air around me was filled with yellow, choking gas, and the sucking sound was getting louder, approaching us with blinding speed.
I spurred Panic onward, shouting encouragement. The pounding of his hooves was loud as crackling lightning, crashing like thunder while he raced against the crumbling ground. His breath wheezed in my ear as he pushed himself forward. Soon we were neck and neck with Elvira and her giant snow cat. Soren raced ahead of us, Terror heaving with each and every breath.
From beside me Elvira’s snow cat snapped at Panic, and the horse bucked up in fright. I held on, grateful my arm was wrapped in the reins, and urged Panic to move again as he regained his footing.
“Control your animal!” I shouted to Elvira, barely able to hear my own voice above the sound of the sinking ground.
Elvira snarled at me, baring her teeth. Then she rammed her cat into the legs of my horse. Panic stumbled, fighting hard to keep his instincts under control. His thoughts echoed in my ears: This cat would kill him. This cat would eat him. It was a predator and he was its prey. The horse’s wild heartbeat raced as he realized death was not just behind him, but around him too.
The glint of metal caught my eye as a short sword swung toward me. Almost automatically, I had my axe out and caught the edge of the blade against the wood. The maddening gleam in Elv
ira’s eyes grew brighter as she hissed and brought her sword down again. I veered Panic away, getting dangerously close to the sucking mud.
She’s trying to kill me. Despite the thought, I was strangely calm. So what if she was? This was the Hunt. I heaved my axe into the air and swerved closer to her snow cat, bringing the blade down on her animal’s haunches. It shrieked in pain as it stumbled and gave me the opening I needed. Urging Panic forward, I rode ahead into the mist.
* * *
BY THE TIME we had escaped the Fire Bog, the agonizing blisters on my arm were dripping pus, the reddened skin flaking off to expose soft, sensitive flesh underneath. I clenched my jaw as even the slightest brush of air sent a wave of pain so terrible it was as if I’d stuck my arm in an inferno. Behind me, Elvira’s glare burned a hole in the back of my neck, and her snow cat growled in pain.
The silver trail of the stag was gone, but if I closed my eyes, I could hear the animal’s heartbeat thrumming in my ears. Somewhere deep in my core, power resonated; the prey line had to be close. Darkness was falling swiftly, though, and we needed to set up camp and do something about our injuries. The stag could wait. It had to.
Soren stopped by a small half-frozen stream. The water was running at a slow enough pace that it wouldn’t bother the goblins. I shifted in the saddle and lowered myself to the ground, cringing as sharp pain shot up my arms. The magic of the Permafrost would heal the goblins by the end of the night, but as I was still a human, the painful burns would heal naturally or not at all.