A man’s broad back blocked her view. A knife flashed in the light. It waved at the woman, and in response, she growled with a feral snarl, circling it, taunting him.
Finally, spitting onto the cobblestones, she straightened. With exaggerated strokes, she painted her face in jagged, black streaks. A mark of the contagion. The walking dead.
Her lips moved into a sweet smile. Lux couldn’t make out what she said. Leaving Ned behind to adorn her stoop, the woman swayed down the street, baring her teeth at any who glanced her way.
The man tucked the knife away.
A soft knock sounded against her door.
Lux reluctantly strode back up the steps, straightening shoulders that kept fighting to droop. “Who is it?”
“It’s Shaw. Let me in. Are you hurt?”
To her horror, tears pooled in her eyes. She swiped at them furiously, should they fall.
You don’t deserve to cry.“I’m fine.”
“Open the door.”
“I need to call for the death-carts.”
“You’ll still need to open the door to accomplish that.”
She scrunched her eyes closed, breathing deeply. The door creaked open, and Shaw immediately filled its frame. His cheekbones were pink against the cold, a cap low on his brow.
“Did she hurt you?” He scanned her body, and her muscles grew languid rather than stiffen. “Nothing on your skin?”
She shook her head. “No. Nothing on my skin.”
He nodded, satisfied. “If I send off a message for a reaper, will you let me back in when I return?”
It was a fair question. One that she contemplated for only a heartbeat. “Yes.”
She watched him until he disappeared from view. Then she stepped out to Ned’s side. No one else came near them, the scent of rotting flesh and the view of a disfigured body being enough to sate any gossiping appetite.
It wasn’t enough to sate her curiosity, however. She hadn’t seen a contaminated body this close, and she refused to pass up the opportunity to learn more of it. She even found herself wishing for Riselda, as she could discern more than Lux ever could. Unfortunately, Riselda wasn’t here, and she wasn’t about to let the body sit here in its filth until her return.
Holding a sleeve to her nose, she bent at his side. Most of the boils appeared intact but for the few oozing their contents from beneath his arms. Likely burst open from the pressure of being held against a well-meaning woman.
Lux surveyed the rest of him, but aside from a few splotches of red clusters on his limbs, she found nothing else that hinted as to how this disease came to be. And why it seemed to be focused on Ghadra’s poor.
“Why do you smell of jasmine of all things?”
“It’s strange, isn’t it?”
Lux tipped her head over her shoulder to find Shaw standing behind her. “That was fast.” She stood, brushing debris from her skirt.
“Reapers are everywhere these days. Did the three carts last night wake you?”
They might have, being as how she lived on the only street that led to the forest. Except she’d slept the night elsewhere.
“I wasn’t home. I visited my parents last night.” Before he could question her further, she turned and strode through the door. “Would you like some tea?”
It annoyed her that his tea had been better, but she wouldn’t admit it aloud. Instead, Lux stared at their feet, hers and Shaw’s side by side, in contemplation. Their eyes bore into the brown rug beneath them, toward what lay below even that.
“The tunnel connects this house and your parents’? What would be the purpose in that?” His confusion only mirrored her own.
“I’ve no idea. And I’ve even less of what may be at the end of the other.”
