Eyes of the Woods (5 page)

“Mother?”

“Yes?”

“You’ve spoken to me about this day since I was seven. I’ve watched dozens and had it memorized for years. I won’t let you down. I promise.”

She gave my dirty clothes and dagger holsters a once-over. “You’re sure?”

“I promised, didn’t I?”

She smiled, at ease. “I trust you.”

I kissed her cheek and then joined Father and my brothers at the table. Father winked.

“Your mother is nervous,” he said, keeping his voice low.

“She needn’t be.”

“You’re not like she was, you know. She has trouble understanding you.”

“I know,” I said, taking a sip of the soup that sat before me. “She’s not the only one.”

Jonathan frowned. “I’d rather stand up on a stage in front of the whole village in a dress than miss a hunt.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” I snapped back.

“It’s not fair,” he whined. “Eris will be betrothed soon. She should have to stay home with Mother. Let me go.”

My head slowly turned to Jonathan. “Did you just say I should stay home because I’m a girl?”

He shook his head quickly. “No.”

“Good. Because I’ve beat Lukas for less.”

Soup nearly shot from Clemens’s nose, and he and Lukas shook with laughter, but Lukas stopped, looking insulted when he realized I meant I’d bested him in a fight before…which was true.

Father cleared his voice, and we all sat up, stiff.

“Let’s enjoy the meal that has been prepared. Respect the good fortune that has been bestowed upon us.” His voice was formal, but he was trying very hard to keep a straight face.

Mother came in and sat down, completing the sign of the cross. We did the same. “Bless us, Father. Amen.”

In unison, we echoed her prayer.

“Dyre?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Keep Eris close next time.”

“Is it the dreams again?” Father asked, pausing midbite.

She simply nodded, and he silently agreed.

A broad smile spread across Jonathan’s face for just a moment before Father’s stern glare erased it away.

MY BELLY FULL WITH STEW AND BREAD
, I lay lazily by the hearth, picking the stickers and pieces of dried leaves from my hair and clothes. The first signs of morning were filtering in through the dirty windows.

Clemens sat a few feet away, poking at his teeth with a toothpick. “Do you want to know whom Father has chosen?”

The satisfied smile on my face vanished. “No.”

“No?”

“Of course no.”

“Very well then. I thought you might.”

“You were wrong,” I said in a final tone.

Clemens turned onto his side, supporting his head with his hand. “He’ll be good for you. He’s the gentle sort. He’ll allow you to continue your hunts if you wish.”

“
Allow
me? If I wish?” A disgusted grunt came from my throat. “As if any man could stop me.”

Clemens’s teasing grin softened. “He’ll treat you well, Eris. Father kept that in mind.”

“It doesn’t matter, brother. I’m still given away. As property. Without a choice.” I sighed. “You wouldn’t understand. Your bride wouldn’t even understand. She wasn’t given to you. You chose each other.”

He nodded. “We were lucky, Emelen and I.” Clemens thought about that a moment and then sat up. “Do you remember when we were little? The silly contests we would have?”

The corners of my mouth turned up.

“Come on. Look at me.”

“A staring contest? Are you ten again?”

“Just do it.”

I pushed myself off the floor, and sat cross-legged, facing him.

“Ready?” he asked.

I shook my head. “What will I win?”

“Desserts for a week.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “That’s not a contest. That’s war.”

“Do you accept the wager or not?”

I wasn’t planning on watching my brother stuff
my
chocolate pie in his mouth.

“One,” I said.

“Two,” he continued.

“Three!”

We both remained still, our eyes open. Clemens’s eyes twitched, but he didn’t blink. The whites turned a bit pink, and then his eyes began to water.

“Give up, Eris. I’ll never blink.”

I smiled. I could already see him struggling. “Sure you will, Clemens. Just wait.”

A knock at the door made Clemens jump. He blinked, and I pointed at him with a wide grin.

“Your desserts are now mine, brother!” I exclaimed.

He turned around to see who was responsible for his catastrophic loss.

Lukas walked in, raising his eyebrows and suppressing a grin. “A staring contest? Are you ten again?”

Clemens and I both chuckled.

Lukas came to sit next to me. He struggled to coordinate his long legs. Although he was next to youngest, he was taller than Clemens and I. He had inherited his size from our grandfather, and few boys in our village challenged him. I, however, wasn’t intimidated. Before he could sit, I jumped on his back, wrapping my arms around his neck. He spun, trying to throw me off, but I interlocked my fingers, refusing to let go. The corners of Lukas’s mouth turned up in a mischievous grin, and then he backed up to the wall, smashing me between his large frame and the wood.

“Oh yeah?” I said, reaching down to poke at his only weakness: his ribs. Lukas let out a howl, and I giggled.

“All right, all right,” Father said as he walked into the room. “That’s enough. Before you break something … again.”

A knock sounded on the door, and we all looked at one another. Father opened the door, leaning his head just far enough that I couldn’t read his lips as he whispered to whomever stood outside.

“Understood.” Father shut the door and just one look let us know that our work for the day wasn’t finished.

“Should I get the horses?” Lukas asked, glancing at me. My hopes lifted for just a moment, hoping Father would let me stay. I didn’t know why he made me go along; he knew I hated it. Father gestured to Lukas, then looked to me. “Help your brother.”

I obeyed, following Lukas outside. The ground was covered in dew, and everything was quiet, even the doves. Lukas had a candle in hand, making his way to the stalls. He pulled out our geldings, and I helped him fasten them to the wagon.

“Who do you think it is?” I asked.

“Probably old man Smithson. He hasn’t been well lately.”

Father came out with Clemens, wearing his good coat. We watched as he climbed into his seat and gripped the reins firmly in his hands. Clemens sat next to him, and I joined my brother in the back.

Lukas didn’t seem fazed. He didn’t feel the way I did; the deaths didn’t seem to bother him. The reason for collecting them didn’t either. It was all meant for death. Everything we did. When I was young, I was proud of who we were, but as I learned more about what the Priory meant, we felt less like protectors, and more like dealers of death.

I reached up and touched Father’s shoulder.

“Is it Mr. Smithson?” I asked.

He patted my hand.

“Who is it?” I whispered.

“She’s from Eyre. It’ll be an hour’s ride. No one we know, love. No one we know.”

I sat back, only partly relieved. The road to Eyre was rough. I stared at my father’s large black bag, knowing the horror that waited inside. The tubing and the glass bottles that would collect the lifeless blood we used for Vileon.

The sun had already breached the horizon by the time Father slowed the horses. The wagon came to a halt in front of a run-down home just outside Eyre, the village just to the east of ours. That it was an unfortunate family only made me feel worse. Our clients were mostly poor, desperate for the measly ten chits Father offered for the blood of their dead. My father brought his bag with him as he stepped off the wagon. A teenage girl about my age stepped outside to greet us.

“Thank you, Mr. Helgren,” she whispered, pulling him into the house.

Lukas and I traded glances.

My father didn’t respond. The dirt floor crunched beneath my shoes as I followed quietly behind Lukas. The air was stale and smelled foul, typical for most houses we entered for collection.

“Really, sir, she thought it quite an honor to be of use to you.” She smiled softly, pride in her eyes. “It helped her, too…she was at peace with her death.”

The girl walked to the back of the house, glancing back at Father with pure adoration, clearly hoping for a sign of his approval. He was well-known everywhere we went, hailed as a hero, a savior, or both.

Father nodded, and I thought I caught a glimmer of embarrassment in his eyes. He might have been one of the greatest Priors to have ever lived, but he was a humble man.

“They say you have no fear,” she said. She took a left turn down a hall and then turned into the first room. A woman lay in the bed, frail and still.

Father set his bag on the bedside table and began to work without a response to her silly statement. He was a man with four children who went out into the woods every night. Of course he had fear. Changing meant the end of humanity and an eternity of torture from insatiable thirst, and we had been in danger of that since we turned old enough to hunt. Father made us all promise that if any of us were turned, and he was unable to end our suffering, the others would take care of it for him. We were his only weakness.

Lukas poked tubes through the holes in the lids of two large jars. I took two needles and inserted them into tiny veins in each of her arms.

“Eris?” Father asked.

“Difficult, but…yes…it’s flowing.” Once the dark blood began to flow, I looked away, unable to watch the steady dripping and then splashing into the glass containers.

After that, all there was left to do was wait.

A yawn escaped my lips, and Father touched my arm.

“Just a bit longer.”

I shook my head. “I’m fine.”

Clemens checked the tubing and used different pressure points on the woman’s body to facilitate the blood flow. Once the jars were full, Father pulled out a pen.

“Would you sign, please?” he said, holding out a paper to the girl.

“Me? I don’t think I—”

“I’ll do it,” a man said, stepping out from the shadows. He’d been there awhile, quiet and solemn. Father had chosen not to address him, so I followed his example. Ours was a questionable business, paying money for the blood of the dead, but Father insisted that we conduct ourselves as professionals, and that we treat the families with respect.

The man signed, he was given his chits, and then he stumbled back to his wooden stool in the corner, covering his face with his hands. The girl comforted him, and Father motioned to us that it was time to pack our things and leave.

“Should we have just taken her, Father?” Lukas asked as he settled into the back of the wagon. “Like we did with Ireck?”

“Ireck was a friend. It was best for Cala that we harvested his blood where she couldn’t see. They don’t agree with this, you know.”

“Then why did Cala allow us to harvest him at all?” Lukas began.

“Because it is the duty of the council to protect our territories, even in death.”

“But it’s not the duty of the poor?”

“They are those whom we protect.”

“Is that why you pay them?”

“Yes,” Father said simply, and the wagon moved forward.

We rode the entire journey home in silence, too tired to carry a conversation.

After we unloaded Father’s bag and unharnessed the horses, I trudged into the house and collapsed onto my bed. After a few moments, I groaned and then stood. My body was begging for rest, but I needed to change out of my clothes. I hung up my daggers and holsters and changed into a long, white, cotton gown.

Eager to climb into bed, I took a leap onto the mattress and quickly pulled up the covers around me. After a deep breath, my body melted into the softness beneath me.

While I was waiting to fall asleep, a familiar feeling came over me. I felt it nearly every morning when I turned in, but the sun was high in the sky. The eerie feeling surprised me. I pulled the blanket up to my neck, and I waited.

A small peck at the window, and I was on my feet, in a defensive stance. Only the perimeter wall a hundred yards or so could be seen, and then one of my cousins walking along the stone wall with a crossbow slung over his shoulder.

I looked down at the grass beneath my window. A small, perfectly round pebble was nestled in the dry, yellow remains of the grass. I looked up again. My cousin was gone, but a pair of small, reflective eyes glimmered at the top of the wall.

“Father!” I screamed. “Father!”

Clemens and Father rushed into my room at the same time, both with tired eyes and wearing their nightclothes.

“What is it? What is it, child?” Father said, looking in all directions outside my window.

“I saw something! At the top of the wall!”

Father scrambled outside. Clemens followed closely behind. The grounds were suddenly alive and busy. The Priory was on full alert, and my family was standing at every checkpoint along the wall.

Mother came into my room, waiting for news while I kept close, dagger in hand.

Outside my window, one of the cousins approached Father, and they had an intense discussion. Father seemed angry, and I was nervous when I heard the front door slam. He came into my room without my brothers.