“He’s one of ours,” he said.
“Idris, I lied. I never defected to the High Harvester.”
“You expect me to be surprised?” he murmured under his breath, not looking at her.
“I…” She huffed. “You’re not?”
“You’re a terrible liar, Seraphina. I knew the moment you said it that you were lying. And just to clear the air between us, I always know when you lie. Because I’ve known you since we were fifteen.”
“Then why… Why did you drop everything to come with me? It’s desertion.”
“You’re not paying attention,” he said. “I’ve known you since we were fifteen.”
Seraphina’s chin trembled. This was not the time to cry. She crouched beside him and touched his arm.
“Then you’re on my side?”
He finally looked at her. Nodded. But he knew what she was going to say next, so he cut her off.
“I’m not letting this man die. Idris is on your side; the surgeon is on the side of life.”
She lifted her eyes toward the sky in what she hoped Idris would interpret as exasperation. It was then that something caught her attention in the distance. It was plain daylight, and a shadow fell across the side of a house. Her hackles stood on end, she rose to her feet slowly, hands going to her daggers. A piercing cry slashed the air, a sound so raw and animalistic that it was hard to believe it came from a human being.
Her stomach dropped. Under her solar plexus, it seemed like a black pit was growing, sucking in all thought, all hope, all worry. The part of her brain that was more beast than human whispered that nothing mattered anymore. Her pain, her secrets, the tolls? Her thirst for revenge. Irrelevant. Because this moment right now… was her last one.
Another scream followed, and another, then every living man, woman, and child in the village was screaming.
Idris shot to his feet. He ran toward the chaos, and Seraphina reached for his hand and tried to stop him, but his instinct was that of a man who saved lives. From behind a broken fence, they saw the horror.
The creature was three times bigger than any man, with broad shoulders, a massive chest, long arms streaked with popping veins, and legs like tree trunks. He had snow-white hair and golden eyes. He wore no shirt, only black pants and boots, and that was why it was easy to see… One couldn’t hope to be mistaken. He was sewn together from mismatched parts, his skin marred by crude stitches, the thread black and coarse.
Seraphina’s first thought was,“Is that what Rune looks like?”.
The revenant’s hands and chest were drenched in blood. It ran down in rivulets, soaking into the fabric of his pants and dripping in the snow. He swung his arm and slammed a man who’d tried to stab him into a tree, then grabbed him by the throat and squeezed. The head popped off clean, like a bottle cork, and the body collapsed as it sprayed blood everywhere. The creature didn’t even blink. He turned on his heel and grabbed his next victim. He tore the man in two.
Muskets fired from windows, hitting him straight in the chest and arms, two in the face. The revenant didn’t even flinch. The balls lodged into him, but it was as if he didn’t feel them. Seraphina couldn’t tell if he was bleeding from his wounds because there was too much blood already. He paid the shooters no mind and tore down a door, entering the house, slaughtering everyone inside in seconds.
Idris turned to Seraphina, and in his eyes, she saw the exact moment when he changed his mind about being on the side of life. He grabbed her by the wrist and started running, butSeraphina only allowed him to drag her a few paces, then she planted her feet firmly and pulled her hand free.
“What are you doing?” he yelled.
Seraphina turned back to the massacre. The revenant had just emerged from the house and was walking toward another.
“You,” she shouted.
“Seraphina, what the–” He stopped himself. Idris never swore. “God have mercy.”
He turned back for her and wrapped an arm around her waist. She fought him and easily escaped, took a few more steps toward the chaos.
“You!”
But the revenant didn’t see her. She needed to get closer.
Idris slammed bodily into her from the side, knocking her to the ground and pinning her under his weight. His action threw her off. She hadn’t expected him to be so determined and strong. Her first instinct was to reach for her daggers, but she stopped herself. This was Idris. He wasn’t attacking her, he was protecting her. In that moment of hesitation, he banded his arms around her torso and started dragging her through the snow like she was a sack of potatoes. It took her a moment to snap out of her shock. She kicked her feet, but he ignored her and pushed her against something cold and hard – the door to a root cellar. He let go of her to try and open it, at which point Seraphina shot up and ran, screaming at the top of her lungs, “You! You!”. She was too far away, too many people were screaming, muskets cracked all around them.
“Don’t,” Idris said just before he caught her and covered her mouth with his hand. “Shh.”
He dragged her into the root cellar. Once in the dark, with only slivers of light coming in through cracks in the door above, he didn’t let her go.
