“Now, my pet,” Jezebel purred, eyes glowing like embers. “If you ever come after me, it shall be much, much worse.”
Her fist came back and slammed into my face with a sickening crack, and then blessed unconsciousness took me.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Heat awokeme and my body went rigid with fear and pain. I gasped for breath, my heart pumping in my chest as though fighting for existence. I jerked my head up, frantically searching for my captor, barely noticing that I was no longer bound. In my mind’s eye, Jezebel struck me again and again. I cowered, crying out against the pain.
“Hush, girl. Hush,” a voice whispered like the lullaby of a brook. “The goddess of fire and her horde of gnomes are gone. You are safe. For now.”
I forced my eyes to open. With each breath, a stab of pain pierced my side as though a knife were being moved back and forth inside me. My head rang and it was hot, so hot. Dimly I was aware that I was naked and lay on my belly in a dark room. I blinked as my eyes adjusted to the poor light. “Who’s there? Who are you?” I rasped; each word seared my throat like a brand.
“Drink,” the soft voice whispered.
I blinked. A cup of water sat inches from my nose, yet it took all of my effort to lift it to my lips. My fingers shook so badly that most of the liquid spilled, but I was able to swallow twice before giving up. Although it wasn’t much, the water refreshed me and some of the fog in my head cleared. I closed my eyes, taking shallow breaths to ease the achein my belly. I became aware that the heat came from my back and I wasn’t completely naked. Bandages lay on my back and secured my stomach. Someone had come to heal me, but who?
Had Jezebel told someone about my predicament? But no, she killed my mother—she wanted to see me suffer. Was it my father, Dagda? Had he sent someone to assist me before I died? Anger rose, swiftly dying away as a fresh wave of pain burst through me. I touched the soft pallet I lay on, steering my mind to thoughts of safety. Below it was the stone, so I was still in the cavern where Jezebel had left me. I closed my eyes. Although I wanted to get up and leave the accursed cavern, my wounds would not let me. I intended to ask the voice more questions, but sleep took me.
When I woke again, a dim light hovered in the cavern. My tongue was thick but my pain had dimmed to a manageable haze. I reached for the cup, found it had been refilled, and drank deeply, this time only spilling half of it. When I set the cup down, a vague shape lurked in the darkness like a monster, hunched and bent over. I fought to contain my fear, knowing it would only bring more pain. Still, dread rose in me and I held on to the cup, realizing it was my only weapon against the monster. Thick arms and legs and a head much bigger than my own disappeared into the shadows. It was watching me, I was sure of it, but was it the one who was helping me recover? Ashamed of my immediate desire to fight, I wetted my lips and whispered, “Who are you?”
As I suspected, the shape shifted. This time when it spoke, the soft voice I’d heard in my pain-filled fog had been replaced with a deep tone, thick with wistfulness. “You should not want to know, little one.”
I swallowed hard, squinting as I tried to make out more features. “Are you the one who saved me?”
“Hmm…” The rumble, like the sound of rocks sliding into each other, came from deep in its chest. “Saved you? No. I only dressed your wounds. I could not save you from being beaten by the goddess.”
I stilled then took a shuddering breath that left me panting with pain. Closing my eyes, I fought to stay conscious. When I’d mastered myself again, I croaked out, “Do you know her? The goddess Jezebel?”
This time, a pair of luminous eyes turned toward me. They glowed like orbs in the semi-darkness and suddenly I was grateful not to see the creature clearly. My head told me I should be afraid and yet my heart reminded me the creature had done me no harm and so far, had helped me. I refused to allow myself to consider anything else.
“Nay. She entered my home and stole my wings. After she beat you, she released me, for she does not assume I will be a burden to her. She is correct. I dwell in darkness and all I ask is to be left alone.”
My thoughts spun as I racked my brain for knowledge. What was a giant creature who lived in the dark and had wings? Nothing came to mind, but it was the first time I was able to puzzle over something aside from myself. Welcoming the diversion from my misery, I plunged ahead. “I thank you all the same.” My voice was still hoarse, but speaking became easier as long as I paused between each sentence. “I am Aofie Mor. I used to dwell with the centaurs but I am new to these lands. Jezebel captured me for my blood, and she goes to bring chaos to the land. Death and destruction follow wherever she goes. I have to stop her and continue on my quest. Will you help?”
The giant grunted but not unkindly. “I see through your ways, little one. You wish to bring me to your side by sharing your story. But I do not take sides. I dwell here, and those who venture into my home make themselves my business. I will never leave and therefore, beyond the knowledge I grant you, I can give nothing else.”
I chewed my lower lip. “What about your wings? Don’t you want them back?”
“If you believe you have the power to bring me back my wings, then do so. Although I suspect the goddess left them nearby as a cruel joke. You mistake me for a friend, but I did nothing to stop her when she wounded me, and I am doing nothing to help you, aside from binding your wounds that you might leave me in peace.”
I squinted, unsure what to make of the conversation. The giant seemed to lack any emotional response. Was it possible to not have thoughts and feelings that swayed one? I was outraged, furious at Jezebel, but this creature seemed to accept what had happened to him. “I don’t understand. Don’t you want revenge?”
“Revenge?” The word rolled off the giant’s tongue like a question. “That is a very human term. What would I do with revenge?”
Weariness came over me and I struggled to convey my thoughts. “It is a way to feel better about unfairness. Jezebel took everything from me. I tried to save a village, and she destroyed it. Good people lived there. They were kind to me, made me feel welcome and looked to me for answers. I can’t let her get away with murdering them. Even worse, she followed me to my mother’s home and slit her throat in front of me.” Tears pressed but I kept talking, even though sobs broke through my voice. “She tied me up and kept me as a prisoner for days, bleeding me dry. And then, as you saw, she beat me and left me for dead. So yes, I want revenge, because she did wrong. She needs to pay for her crimes.”
I put my head down and closed my eyes, sobbing quietly until the giant spoke again. His deep voice was mellow. “In my experience, those who do evil must face their crimes at one point or another, either here or in the afterlife. The gods will not grant them mercy. I do not understand why you have to deal out punishment when it is the gods who will ensure a fitting punishment is given.”
My nostrils flared. “Because I want to see her face when I drive my sword into her. I want to know it’s not the gods who are punishing her. It is I. Aofie Mor. She cannot get away with this. I want her to know I will come for her and it is I who will bring about her demise, just as my blood inadvertently set her free. She cannot get away with this.”
Silence stretched after my last words but I kept my eyes closed, too weary to see if the giant was watching me. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and gravelly. “I cannot help you in your quest for revenge. You will heal. Soon. And I will show you the path that leads back to your people. We are in the hills and the shepherds live nearby. Sometimes their flocks come this way and a lost sheep helps me survive. The shepherds can help you find revenge, if that is what you wish. In my experience, that kind of life, filled with hate, blood, lust, and revenge does not lead to satisfaction. It destroys the soul until all you want is more blood, more revenge, more, more, more, and the hate burns your soul until you become like the demons who seek to escape from the underworld. They are emotionless, with dark hearts hellbent on destruction. If you become like them, you will doom your soul and this world. Revenge is not what is needed, but forgiveness.”
My ears burned as I listened to his words. Did he speak from experience, not wisdom? Why else would he dwell alone in the dark? Even so, the term “forgiveness” was difficult to swallow. My heart hardened. I did not want to forgive, especially when the hope I’d had on my eighteenth birthday had been pilfered and crushed. Ever since leaving the Beluar Woods, everything had gone horribly wrong, leaving me hollow. Anger surged. I wanted to fight and rage and set fire to the world. But I was broken. Briefly I wondered if I’d have the strength to crawl back to the woods, where I’d been safe from physical harm and content with my life.
Tears trickled down my chin and I thought of Romulus and Takari. I wished I were back with them, my first friends—if I could call them that—in the kingdom of men. Bitterly I recalled that they were traveling to the elves, the place where I needed to go next.
“I can’t forgive,” I cried, unable to hold back the words. It felt good to get it out, to tell someone. “So many bad things have happened. I was born to be a warrior. I was born to fight and take back the kingdom from the angel of death. I can’t be like you and hide in a cave and forget the wrong done to me.”
The giant shifted, perhaps uncomfortable with my emotional breakdown. “Little one, rest now. Do not try to solve all your problems today. Sleep while I hunt. Food and a new day shall give you strength. When you are better, I will show you how to reach the land of the shepherds.”
