Page 6 of Gilded Curses

The determined gleam in Orin’s eyes told Sahira he wouldn’t hesitate to kill whatever was out there. But what if they were murderous children?

When she glanced at his hand on her arm, she realized he was seeking to comfort her. He would destroy any enemy to keep her safe.

She didn’t know how to feel about that, but her fingers found his, and she squeezed before another giggle drew her attention away from him. A small head popped around a home fifty feet away before pulling back from view.

It was the most she’d seen of the children, but it was enough to reveal a sweet, cherubic face framed by hair the color of midnight. Unlike the spiders and sand monsters they’d encountered in the Barren Lands, that face didn’t look like it belonged to someone who wanted to rip her head off.

She might be projecting what she believed a child should be like onto these creatures. And they might be trying to figure out how to best eat your kidneys.

Sahira shuddered at the possibility as her mouth went dry.

“Come on.” Orin squeezed her arm again before releasing it. “Let’s keep moving.”

Sahira dreaded going further into this town, but they didn’t have many options, as turning back would only put them back in the Barren Lands. They knew what awaited them there… starvation and death.

No matter how much she hated it here, they could be heading toward freedom. Despite that possibility, their steps were much slower as they progressed further down the main road.

“What did you find in the house?” she asked when the shadowy figures slid into the windows again.

A muscle ticked in Orin’s cheek. “Wooden cutouts. They were set up on a metal track to move them in and out of the windows.”

Sahira’s breath rushed out as she tried to process his words. “Are you kidding me?”

“No.”

With a renewed feeling of unease, she glanced around the town. The laughter had stopped, but eyes bored into her back, and the occasional pitter-patter of little feet thudded against the dirt road.

Those feet weren’t nearly as sweet as when Lexi was a little girl and Sahira could hear her running down the hall before she arrived to fling open Sahira’s door. She’d jump into bed with her and bounce up and down while excitedly squealing, “Get up! Get up! Get up! It’s morning and time to play!”

Sahira would always groan on those mornings, pull the blankets over her head, and grumble at the exuberant, beautiful child to go back to sleep. Secretly, she’d loved the tiny hands that peeled away the blanket before a little finger poked Sahira’s nose.

“You can’t hide from me!” Lexi would call before throwing her arms around Sahira and snuggling in.

They’d cuddle for a few minutes before boredom set in, and Lexi would tear out of the room. She’d always yell over her shoulder, “Come on, sleepyhead, it’s time to play!”

Unable to resist her niece, Sahira would smile as she climbed out of bed.

She wasn’t smiling now.

“Do you think these kids set up the cutouts in the windows?” Elsa asked.

“I think someone with a sick sense of humor and a death wish did it,” Orin snarled.

This time, the shiver making its way down Sahira’s spine had nothing to do with the children and everything to do with the fact he was so irate; she worried he wasn’t thinking clearly. They were all sick of whatever was happening here but had to be careful.

As they neared the end of the street, the houses tapered off as a large rock wall came into view. At first, Sahira assumed the wall was the end of it all, that they’d come this far only to encounter a dead end, a trap, or nothing.

But when they made a right turn around the last house, a small archway came into view. At first, hope leapt in her chest at the possibility of something more… maybe freedom.

She was so excited about getting out of there that it took nearly a minute to process what surrounded the archway… skulls. Lots and lots of skulls.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“That can’t be good,” Loth muttered.

They halted ten feet away from the tunnel with a dim glow at the end of it. All those skulls looked down from empty sockets that seemed to scream at them to turn back; who was she to argue with a head?

“It’s the literal light at the end of the tunnel,” Fath said.