Chapter. 33
I spot Marcus’s chainmail armor. He’s chained up with the other humans, and Jaclyn’s cleaning his forehead with a rag.
“Marcus.” I kneel in front of him. His head is bleeding, and he’s clutching his stomach.
“J-Julia?” he coughs.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. “Why didn’t you go with Jacob to Fekby?”
He reaches into his tunic pocket under his armor, and a painful groan escapes his lips. He pulls out a thin chain and drops it in my hands. A pendant – my brother’s necklace – the iron bow Ivan gave him.
My heart stops. Jacob loves this thing. He wouldn’t just trade it away.
“Why-why do you have this?” I stutter.
“I-” Marcus coughs again, “I took it.”
“I don’t understand,” I frown.
“That vampire you ride with…” He lets out a breath.
“Lord Rahlan? What of him?” My hands are trembling.
“A month ago… On the first day of the invasion… he took Jacob’s life.”
No. I rise on wobbly legs, and my eyes well up. “No…” I step back. “He…” It’s not true. I can’t breathe.
I run back to Mittens, tears stinging my eyes. He can’t be dead. He can’t be. It’s not true. He said he’d meet me at Fekby. We were going to- We were going to rebuild. How could- He’s not a soldier. It’s not true.
I slam into Mitten’s side. It’s not true. It’s a lie. He’s mistaken. I rip the bag open and throw out everything. It’s not true. I can barely see through my blurry eyes. The sextant and waterskin fall by my feet. It’s not true.
“What are you doing?” Rahlan growls behind me.
It’s not true. I pull out the eyeball flask and rip it open. The strong chemical smell assaults my senses. I’m shaking like a leaf. It’s not true. It’s not true. It’s not true. I tip the flask upside-down, sending its sickening contents into the dirt. The white spheres cluster below me. The flask falls out of my hands, and I fall to my knees. He-he’s waiting for me in Fekby. I let out a sob. Rahlan’s boots appear. I turn the eyes over.
Each one, each one must look at me. I turn the eyes with shaking hands. Blue. Brown. Brown. Blue. Brown. Golden green – Jacob’s eyes. I let out a wail.
It’s true. He’s dead. I scream. I scream and scream and break into sobs. He’s dead. He was murdered.
A hand lands on my shoulder. Rahlan. It was him. I stand up on wobbly legs and slam my fist into his chest. “You murdered him!”
He grabs my tunic – a warning.
“You’re a monster!” I scream at the top of my lungs.
His brow twists up, and his free hand forms a fist. He hates it when I call him that. Good. He should hurt like I am hurting.
“You murdered him because you’re a monster,” I spit. “A sick monster. A cold-blooded monster. You belong in hell.”
“Everyone in that flask got what they deserved!” he shouts, shaking me.
Got what they deserved?
I grab his sword from its belt and thrust it at his heart.
He shoves me away before the blade can make contact with his skin. A kick to my chest sends me flying. I lose my footing and fall on my back. He kicks the sword out of my hand, leaving a sharp pain in its place.
He grabs my tunic and drags me backwards through the dirt. I wail and scream and struggle against him. I can’t see further than a few feet with my blurry vision. It hurts, but not my face or arms or chest or legs. It’s deep in my core, like there’s a knife twisting in my center.
He yanks my arms behind me and ties my wrists together. My back is shoved against a tree. He wraps a rope around my waist, binding me to the trunk.
“You think you can just do whatever you want,” I choke out between my sobs. “But one day you’ll pay, you’ll be hunted and slaughtered like the monster you are.”
He turns to leave, not looking back.
“I hope I get to see it!”
He disappears into the mass of vampires.
The rope forces me to sit and watch them. I wail and cry and writhe against my bindings. I hate this. I hate him. I hate all of them.
Pulling does nothing but hurt my wrists, and my anger dissolves back into sobs. He’s dead. Jacob’s dead.
This was all for nothing. Everyday I pushed forward with the knowledge that it would all be okay. I risked running from Rahlan at night, I jumped in the raging river, I pushed myself to walk on aching feet, all because I’d find Jacob again. We’d rebuild. He’d find a new farm for us. Everything would go back to normal.
How can he be gone? Life was just beginning. It’s wrong. It took me years to get over Mom’s death, but things were getting better. No matter what happened, we’d push through together. Now he’s gone. He can’t tell me stories anymore. He can’t argue over dinner anymore. He can’t hug me when I miss Mom anymore.
My throat hurts. I can’t stop crying. I bet the vampires are watching, thinking pathetic slave girl. I wasn’t a slave girl before. I was Julia. I was part of a family, even if there were only two of us. I was somebody.
What am I going to do now? I had everything planned out – escape, reach Jacob, find a farm. Now what? I have no home. I have no family. No one is looking for me. Everyone hates me. I’m nothing.
I’m alone.
Tears run down my face. I’m just a slave girl, Rahlan’s slave girl. Cuddling in his arms, I let my guard down. I thought maybe he wasn’t so bad. He lulled me into a false sense of security. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid.
It hurts even worse because it’s him. Why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t he just stay home, with his wealth and his castle, stay away from us? He ruined everything.