Heir of Ashes (The Roxanne Fosch Files #1)

Chapter 21

Dr. Dean’s penlight and Remo Drammen’s illumination had long gutted out, though their tortured screams followed me for a long time, even when I was sure they were just echoes in my head. I didn’t even need to close my eyes to replay the bloody carnage; those last moments would haunt my dreams for a long time.

For a while, there was no scuffling, no creatures following me—just the nightmares tormenting my thoughts. I gripped my hair tightly and yanked, trying to dislodge the images. For a few minutes, the pain helped. But then I heard the first scuffling behind me. Despite all the horror I had witnessed, I wasn’t sure if I regretted what I had done. Maybe I should have held back until after I left this land, but then, maybe I was never meant to leave.

I trudged on while the creatures behind me gathered and formed their little procession. I covered miles in what I assumed was the direction I had come from, my body protesting every step, screaming in desperate need for rest. Could the creatures attack an unconscious, inert body? Eventually, fear or not, I’d shut down, no matter what I wanted. As it was, I could scarcely keep myself moving forward, the motion nothing more than an inch-at-a-time shuffle.

I was sure I had retraced my path and surpassed our “landing point” but there was no sign indicating a way back to Earth. No parallel pillars, no lonely tree, no arrow with an exit sign. A part of me kept telling me that magic was my way out, but I refused to believe it. Believing it would mean giving up, surrendering to a fate I wasn’t ready to accept. I didn’t have this magic. I was a predator, not a sorceress.

I used the planets as my guiding star, my proverbial carrot, dangling in front of me, never getting closer, the landscape never changing. It felt as if I had been moving in circles. I was so exhausted, aching in places I didn’t know I had places to ache. My throat burned from thirst, my stomach growled from hunger, and above all, there was the cold.

On a quick headcount, there were more than ten creatures behind me. I suspected they were the same ones who had followed us, the same ones who had feasted on Dr. Dean and Remo Drammen. They were expecting Round 2. Except I seemed to be the only one on this entire planet who would fit the bill.

Sorry, not gonna happen, fellas.

Some eternity later, a new ache made itself known: my bladder was at full capacity. I needed to pee—desperately. It made me want to cry. So, I did. I let my tears fall, wishing I could cry my urine away. The planets glowed and gloated at me. The creatures’ incessant scuffle played like a twisted lullaby to my ears, urging me to curl up and shut my eyes. Dead branches foretold my future.

“Ah, hell,” I swore and dashed behind a fallen trunk, unable to hold it any longer. I hurriedly pulled down my slacks and crouched to pee. There were thicker branches a little farther away—even a couple of fallen trees—that could have provided better cover, but I was afraid that the creatures would come with me. This way, at least, I was partially hidden.

My relief was so intense that I closed my eyes for a second to enjoy it, but then there was a scuffle. My eyes flew open and fell on the creatures now at an angle to my side. So much for half a private moment.

I counted exactly twelve creatures, including their leader. They formed a ragged semi-circle around it. I was ready to bolt if they came closer, so I put in a little pressure to finish faster. But they didn’t move. They kept a respectful ten feet between us. I peered at the leader, trying to avoid noticing the darker splotches on his skin and failing miserably. To my relief, most were black or gray, not the rusted brown of dried blood. Despite their lack of expression and body language, I would have sworn they were just as tired and weary as I was. I had never been able to sense the emotions of animals before and wondered if it was something new, or if I’d just never had the chance to experience it until now. Or maybe these creatures weren’t like the animals on Earth.

As soon as my bladder was no longer an issue, my exhaustion, hunger, and thirst hit me all at once. Even after such a brief stop, it took monumental effort to stand up again.

“Guess you guys must experience thirst and hunger all the time, living in a place like this,” I said, a pang of pity tugging at me. “It’s a wonder you haven’t tried to leave this place before. But I suppose if you knew a way out, you’d have used it a long time ago,” I said, not expecting a response, and none was given. “I guess I better watch my back then.” I turned to resume my shuffling.

They stretched their thin, bony legs, readying themselves to follow.

“You know, I’m going to be moving for a while yet, so if you’re tired, just stay behind to rest. I won’t mind.” In the end, I found myself telling them the story of my life.

“That man back there? I hated him. Not the short one, the other one, the tall one. He used me in the worst possible way a woman can be used, you know? Anyway, I don’t know if he deserved to die that way, but I’m glad he’s no longer an issue.” I fell quiet, wondering what that said about me. “I think I’ll just sit and rest for a while and hope I’ll be safe from those sharp teeth of yours. It’s better than falling comatose on top of one of you little creatures. We already know how that story ends.”

I sat and leaned against a dead tree. Its bark was cracked and rough, digging into my back through my thin blouse, feeling like the best coarse massage. The leader of the creatures stopped and crouched ten feet away. I had the sense they all welcomed the reprieve. Did one of them sigh in relief? I searched their little round faces, but they all bore the same expressionless look. Yet something about them conveyed gratitude. Or I could be hallucinating. Like those dehydrated, poor souls who believe they see an oasis in the middle of a desert. I certainly fit the part—parched and desperate, stranded in the middle of nowhere.

And that’s when I realized I could see. In fact, I’d been seeing clearly for a while now. I looked around in wonder, and I could also see the land—the hard-cracked soil, the occasional dead tree and branch—for as far as my vision could reach.

And it was disappointing to realize my suspicion was true. As far as I could see, there was nothing but the desolate landscape, cracked soil, me, and my band of vicious, carnivorous followers. I looked up at the sky for the source of light, maybe a mini sun. There was none. The sky was still as black as ever, the planets still as far as before. Could my vision have adjusted that much to the darkness? Nah, I didn’t think so, especially since I could see all the way to the horizon where land met sky.

How long had I been able to see the land?

I’d been moving for a long time with my eyes glued to the ground, avoiding rocks and branches, that it was hard to tell. In a place where the sun never rose or set, time had no meaning.

Was it warmer? What? Daytime in the land of death? I was still cold, but no longer freezing. Either I was getting used to it, or my limbs had numbed enough to stop feeling the chill. The lack of wind also helped.

Wasn’t numbness a symptom of hypothermia? I was too tired to figure things out, too drained to think straight. Too tired to care.

I leaned my head against the rough bark and closed my eyes. From behind me, a melodious voice said, “He is grateful. He’s waiting to grant you a favor.”

I jumped up with a reserve of energy I didn’t know I had and spun around.

A woman sat on a branch behind me, a woman I was sure hadn’t been there when I arrived. Even my befuddled brain would have registered that.

She looked just as out of place in that land as I did. She stood slowly, the branch she sat upon miraculously not cracking under her weight. It didn’t even bend.

The first thing I noticed about her was her height. She was taller than my six feet by a few inches. The second thing was her glow. Like the planets, she seemed to be radiating an incandescent glow from within. Her long, lustrous red hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, her green eyes and alabaster skin contrasting perfectly. She had on a green medieval dress with layers of teal-green taffeta and a small brooch of gold and emerald at the heart-shaped neckline. Her red lips matched the color of her hair, and her cheeks had a natural pinkish hue.

She was barefoot.

Her aura … it was a bright, shining silver. What the hell had a shining silver aura?

And here I thought I was an aura reader.

“Who are you?” I squeaked through a parched throat.

“My name is Leon Ora Maiche. You may call me Lee,”.

I only stared at her, stupefied. Where the hell had she come from? Instead of asking the question out loud, all I could do was gawk.

Eyes twinkling, she inclined her head, pointing her chin at the creatures behind me. “They are grateful to you. They are waiting to grant you a favor.”

I looked behind me at my troop of followers. “What? Why?”

“You fed them. They are grateful. They want to return your kindness. Ask them for something,” she ordered, clasping her hands together in excitement.

I glanced at the creatures and then back at her. “I’ve been talking for hours. I don’t think they understand me.”

“I heard. I have been watching and listening ever since you appeared with the other mortal. He deserved what he got.” She added the latter with a guileless smile.

“I didn’t see you,” was all I could say.

“Of course not,” she scoffed. “You only see me now because I wish it so.”

Something in the way she said that raised my suspicions. “Wait, are you the reason I can see now?”

She inclined her head. “I reckoned you needed the aid.”

It was a sign of how weary I was, that I didn’t know what to make of her.

“If you have been watching all along, why appear now? Why not show yourself before? Why not help?”

She rolled her shoulders in a shrug, the movement fluid. “I suspect you could use the company. Besides, I cannot stay forever and am profoundly curious about what you shall make of your favor. They have not granted such a boon in ages.”

I glanced at the creatures again. They crouched and waited. “I thought they wanted a free meal.”

Lee chuckled softly. “They do not wish you harm. They do not attack those they favor. Ask them for something. I’m eager to see what you’ll choose.”

“They can’t attack me?”

“Not until they exhaust the favor.”

The qualifier in her answer registered loud and clear: after the favor was spent, I would be fair game.

“Why? I mean, why do you want to know?”

“I have been restless. The mortal who brought you had no permission to cross-drag you, and there were disturbances to the Leeway. I was sent to coordinate and supervise the punishment.” The gleam in her eyes made me wonder if Dr. Dean had been better off with the creatures.

She bowed her head in a regal gesture in a sort of acknowledgment. “But you took care of that problem, and I found it intriguing. Hence, the reason I followed. Now ask for something.” Her last words were definitely an order rather than a request.

The little creatures stayed where they were, watching us. I looked between them and shook my head. “I don’t think they understand what I’m saying; otherwise, they’d have answered me. As I said, I’ve been talking for hours, I even asked them questions, and they gave no indication that they understood.”

She straightened. “The Low Land inhabitants speak the language of those they’re bound to, however briefly. Think about it like this: your objective transcends words, no matter the language.”

“They can grant me anything?”

“Ask them.”

I turned to the creature’s leader, and his ears flickered back attentively, like that of a cat’s.

So creepy.

“Can you get me out of here? Back to my world?” I added the longing for home as a thought, just in case Lee meant they were telepathic.

Behind me, Lee laughed and clapped twice. “Nay, child. They cannot grant what they do not know.”

I sighed. “Then they’re useless to me.”

“Ah, such negativity, and in one so young. I’ve seen many like you before. I will help you choose, for I do not have eternity free. Duty awaits me.” She tapped a finger to her lips, mimicking someone deep in thought before snapping her fingers. “Power. Ask for power,” she urged.

I shook my head.

Her lips formed a brief pout before she snapped her fingers again. “Knowledge of the archaic. Wisdom beyond your years. Surely you would want one of those.”

I shook my head again.

“You are no fun. No wonder the mortal wanted to get rid of you,” she muttered under her breath, but I was sure she knew I could hear her clearly.

“Ah, you are young. You will want security in the mortal world. That means gold. Ask for riches.”

“What good will they do me here?” I gestured around the land.

Lee’s head snapped back, like a cobra ready to strike. The playful twinkle in her eyes was replaced by a gleam of speculation. They sharpened and scrutinized me closely. “You are her. You are Fosch’s child, the promised one.”

My stomach quivered and fell, and millions of goosebumps erupted all over my body. This woman knew who I was. This woman knew who my father was.

“What makes you think so?” I didn’t think a direct lie to this woman would be wise.

A smile spread across her face. There was no warmth in it, but it seemed genuine. “Any Dhiultadh has enough knowledge to travel between the worlds. It is innate, like a newborn’s instinct to suckle. You are one of them and yet you do not know. Only two hybrids in existence lack this knowledge. One is not a Dhiultadh. That makes you the offspring of Fosch and the mortal woman.”

My heart raced. All my aches and needs lost their edge to the knife-sharp fear gnawing at me like a relentless predator. This woman was not a friend.

Lee tsked. Her eyes remained locked on mine. That predatory gleam gained a certain quality, as if it had intensified. “It is tragic what happened to your father. He was a good man. A foolish one, but good nonetheless. It is a quality rarely found among his kind, and that trait was what made him a prominent, well-liked Dhiultadh.”

I said nothing.

“Do not fear. Your father owed nothing to me. I see the curiosity in you. I will grant you one boon—an honest answer to one question, as a token for dealing with the mortal in my stead.”

Information. Knowledge about my roots. I thought hard about it. I had many questions I wanted to ask. Later, when I looked back, I’d be able to see my mistake, recognize the manipulation at play. Or at the very least, think of a better question. But at that moment, there was only one thing playing over and over in my head.

“You said I was the promised one. What does that mean?”

Lee’s eyes flashed, and I braced myself. I could tell she was very pleased with my choice, satisfied even.

She smiled, a lazy, secretive curve of lips, like a cat about to feast on tasty prey. She leaned back against the tree—which shouldn’t have been able to support her weight—and fussed with her gown, adjusting the hem of her dress, dusting off imaginary lint from her sleeve. When she glanced up at me again, her face was devoid of any expression, perfectly composed.

In my experience, there were only two types of people who took a moment to compose themselves before telling a story: the liar, because they didn’t want others to discover the deceit, and the emotionally attached, because they didn’t want their feelings to show. Both, in my opinion, were skilled actors.

“It is a very important question you ask,” Lee began. “Many years ago, your father made a bargain with a Sidhe lord—a powerful and ancient Seelie. It is not common knowledge what the bargain entailed, not even to Queen Titania. What is known is that, in exchange for Fosch’s granted wish, he was to produce an offspring with a human mortal and gift it to the Sidhe. Aye, that would be you,” Lee said when my eyes widened. “However, Fosch did not intend to fulfill his side of the bargain. For many years, he avoided all human mortals, no matter how alluring. When confronted, he claimed he had not yet found the perfect vessel to carry his seed.

“When the Sidhe lord realized he had been tricked, he vowed not to let a Dhiultadh make a fool of him. He influenced the most beautiful and seductive of mortals and sent them as gifts to Fosch. But Fosch remained ever watchful and careful. For a long time, the Sidhe lord and the Dhiultadh danced their deceptive dance with care, manipulation, and cunning. Until the mortal woman.

“It has been speculated that she was influenced by the Sidhe lord from the beginning, but Oberon has denied sending this particular mortal to Fosch. When it was time for Fosch to pay his price, he claimed that the mother of his child had not been human when she conceived. Fosch accused Oberon of foul deeds, of stripping this woman’s essence to make her human.”

“Did he?”

Lee’s eyes flashed with insult. “Nay, he did not. It is forbidden to strip a preternatural being of what makes them other. The Sidhe, whether Seelie or Unseelie, do not meddle with dark powers.”

“But wouldn’t my father have known that?” I insisted.

“Aye, he should have. Fosch, your father, seemed to have lost his senses, going as far as to claim this mortal woman as his mate.”

“Was she?”

“I cannot tell. A bond, to be recognizable by others, has to be firm and in place. If Fosch had a mating bond with the mortal, it had yet to manifest.” She waited for my next question, and when I couldn’t think of one, she continued, “When Oberon arrived to collect the prize, the vessel was just a common mortal. Therefore, the bargain held. However, when Fosch was asked to conclude the bargain, he refused, prompting the Sidhe lord to demand retribution. The High Council of the Dhiultadh was convened, along with the Sidhe royalty. A court was held, and Fosch was given a last chance. Again, he refused, sacrificing his own existence for his child.” Lee sighed. “It was a tedious procedure and a very abrupt and fatal punishment.”

“A punishment that was made to look like a bear attack?” Or was that another lie?

Lee tilted her head to the side. “Death by the jubada claws. It is a punishment reserved for cowards.”

My gut clenched, raw from hunger and the wasps dancing in it.

“It is said that one of the Dhiultadh raised you, in honor of your father’s sacrifice.” She gave me a speculative look. “She did you no favor hiding the truth from you.”

I shook my head. “A mortal raised me.”

“It is what it is.” Lee nodded toward the creatures. “Now, dear child, ask them for the favor. I cannot linger much longer.”

“You know the way out,” I said. It wasn’t a question, but she inclined her head in confirmation.

“Can you take me back to my world?”

“I can, but I owe you nothing.”

“I killed Dr. Dean for you.” But even as I said it, I realized my mistake. I recalled the gleam in her eyes when I had asked my question, the brief flash of triumph. She had known exactly who I was from the beginning. Didn’t all the Rejected possess the ability to travel between worlds? I had been dragged here, searching for a way out, and hadn’t my first question to the creatures been about finding a way out? Yep, she’d known who I was from the beginning, but she’d wanted me to exhaust my favor on something trivial. But why? I had a feeling I’d be finding out soon.

“Aye, and I paid with information.”

Then I remembered something. “I thought guardians were supposed to take care of those path things. You know, that’s why they’re called guardians, aren’t they?” I asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Indeed, they are. But the Leeway was disturbed, and I came to ensure no damage had occurred. As for the guardians, I only coordinate how far they are allowed to pursue the intruder. We cannot let the guardians run loose without supervision.”

A shudder ran through me. I wasn’t sure if it was from the cold, the memory of the guardians’ attack, or my body’s demand to refuel. I had to get out of there, and fast. The adrenaline boost I’d gained when Lee first appeared was rapidly waning.

“How about a favor?” I asked impulsively—foolishly.

Oh, how I would regret those words. I was sure of it. But nothing else came to mind, and to regret it, I still had to live.

Her head tilted to the side in a serpentine motion, and a calculating gleam entered her eyes. A cold chill ran down my spine. This was what she had been aiming for.

A favor. She wanted me indebted to her.

“A favor? What could you possibly offer me?” she asked dismissively, but the eager glint in her eyes never wavered.

“Not a child,” I said quickly. “Something else.”

“You have nothing of value to bargain with,” she said, but I suspected she was playing hard, to make me cave and agree to anything she asked.

“What would you suggest?” I asked curiously.

Ah, there it was—the triumph.

“I cannot think of anything you could offer that would be of use to me. Let’s see,” she said, placing her index finger over her lower lip. “How about we leave it as an open favor?” she proposed at last, clasping her hands together in an excited gesture.

I shook my head. “I have to know what I’m agreeing to, or it’s nothing.”

“Nothing, then,” she replied coolly.

Frustration surged through me. What could I offer this woman to return me to my world without making a colossal mistake? There was no point in surviving the Low Lands only to become a slave to this woman. Maybe I’d have been better off with Remo Drammen.

I knelt in front of the creature in the lead, holding back a wince when I found myself level with its inhuman gaze. I stared directly into its shell-shaped black eyes. “What can you do for me?”

It didn’t answer.

“What’s your name?” I tried again with the same result.

It just sat there, staring at me. There were three dime-sized spots that vaguely resembled a triangle just below its right eye.

After a moment of silence, I looked at Lee over my shoulder and accused, “You lied. It doesn’t understand me.”

Anger darkened the emerald green of her eyes and made her cheeks flush. “I do not lie. You should remember that, for I will not tolerate impertinence and insolence twice.” She inclined her head toward the creature. “He does not answer because he has yet to gain permission to speak, and he does not have a name.”

I turned back to the creature and asked, “Would you like me to give you a name? Something I can call you?”

It didn’t answer. Frustrated, I said, “You have permission to address me freely, whenever you like.” The creature’s ears flickered again, like that of an obedient puppy.

I looked back at Lee and found her watching us with a curious expression. “Is that good?”

She inclined her head.

“How about I call you Frizz?” I asked the little creature.

Its lips parted, showcasing two rows of sharp little teeth, and for a moment, I thought it was going to strike. Then it hissed, “Friiiizzzzzzzzz,” and began beating its small wings, stretching its legs, gaining a foot of height, and then crouching back down, just to repeat the process over again. “Friiizzzzz! Friiizzzzz! Friiiizzzzzz!”

After a couple of seconds, I realized it was jumping in excitement. I exhaled in relief and lost my train of thought when I noticed eleven pairs of eyes focused on me expectantly.

“What?” I asked, scrambling up and taking a step back. “What is it?”

“They’re waiting for their turn to be named. This is fascinating,” Lee’s voice was amused, but I didn’t take my eyes off the little creatures.

“Uh, okay. I can do that. Um, let’s see …” I turned to the creature at the edge of the semicircle and racked my brain for another name. “How about Taz?” I pointed at it.

Like Frizz, its ears flickered—like an antenna receiving a transmission—one of which was missing the tip. It hissed, “Taaazzz,” beating its wings and stretching its twig-thin legs over and over. “Taaazzz! Taaazzzz!” On and on it hissed, and the other unnamed creatures began beating their wings in unison.

“Okay. You’re Sylvester, and you’re Tweety, Bugs Bunny …” Now what did that say about the state of my mind? I was giving names of Warner Bros characters to a bunch of carnivorous creatures.

Well, who would know? But try as I might, I couldn’t remember any more names. My mind was blank—a white canvas missing the brush—and I still had seven more to go. They all buzzed loudly above their named fellows, waiting for their turns.

I racked my mind for a minute, but nothing came up. Then I had an idea, and I pointed at the next unnamed creature. “Okay. You’ll be Happy, and you’ll be Grumpy, Sleepy, Sneezy, Bashful, Dopey, and Doc.”

It finally happened, Roxy. You lost your mind. I had a bunch of demonic cartoon characters jumping up and down, cheering me on, and I was feeling so very proud of myself. Yeah, I was a mess.

“Frizz?” I asked, and the little thing stopped jumping and focused. So did the other eleven.

“Can all of you together do something to get me back to my world?”

“No,” it hissed. It had a forked tongue. I held back a shudder.

“I know you can’t take me yourself, but what if you owe a favor to Lee in my stead so I can go back? All of you combined?” I pointed my thumb behind me.

“No,” it hissed again.

“Is there anything in this land that you can get or trade to send me back home?”

“No.”

I exhaled. “Alright then, you are no longer bound to me. You don’t owe me anything. You’re free to go your merry way.” I made a shooing motion, but I might as well have been fanning him. “I dissolve you of your duties to me. You owe me nothing,” I reiterated.

He kept his eyes on me, unblinking, with no trace of the previous excitement. I scanned the other creatures, and they were all silent too, watching.

Ah, shit. Had I just freed them to eat me during my first moment of weakness?

I glanced back at Lee, and she had a peculiar look in her eyes. I didn’t like it.

“What did I just do?” I asked, half expecting her not to answer without asking for something in return.

“It is fascinating. No other being has ever dissolved them of a duty and meant it. They are confused. Anyone else would have enslaved them to an eternity of servitude.” She shook her head. “It is intriguing,” she repeated.

I didn’t think it was. But then, I came from a place where freedom of choice was a right. “Well, I’m not anyone else,” I said, uneasy with the strange gleam in her eyes.

I took a long breath, exhaled slowly, and then braced myself to bargain with the devil.