Chapter1
Hot hatred burned inside of me as I watched Jeremiah sleep in bed beside me. Occasionally a snore would tear out of his gaping mouth, and I had to fight the urge to smother him with a pillow. He was one of my least favorite clients. More often than not, he’d get drunk and be too rough or smack me around a bit for being disobedient–but money was money. When you had no family, no dowry, and no marriage prospects, you had to take what you could get.
I wanted to get up and leave so badly, but if Jeremiah woke and I wasn’t there–there’d be hell to pay in the form of his fists colliding with my face the next time he caught me alone.
I let out a deep sigh and gazed out the frosted window. Fluffy snowflakes fell from the sky, coating the dreary town of Grafberg in a thick layer of white. We were finally at the tail end of winter, and this would likely be the last snowfall. I eagerly awaited springtime–for the return of the flowers and the feel of the sun on my skin.
It wouldn’t be much longer, and at least for now, I was warm.
I laid my head back against the headboard and just as I closed my eyes in an attempt to get some sleep, a commotion erupted from the first floor of the inn.
“Where’s Iris?” someone yelled.
Shit, shit, shit.
My stomach twisted into a tight knot, and my heart pounded in my throat.
What could they possibly want with me?
“She’s upstairs in room three with Jeremiah. What business do ya have with her?” I could identify Henry, the old innkeeper, by his voice.
“Mind yourself, old man. This is none of your concern.”
Heavy footsteps clambered up the stairs while I hurried to put on my dress with shaking fingers.
Just as I finished cinching my bodice, the door burst open and Jeremiah bolted upright in the bed. Four men flooded into the room. The only two I recognized were the town guard, William, and Father Aldous, the newly appointed town priest.
“What’s going on here?” Jeremiah yelled as he clutched the blanket to his bare chest.
The large man looked scared out of his wits. It would have given me satisfaction to see him in that position if I wasn’t so concerned with my own well-being.
“We’ve come for the girl,” William said and pointed a gloved finger at me.
My heart raced and my breaths came out sharp and fast. “W-why? What have I done?” The words were strangled; I could barely speak.
“Iris Browne, your crimes include prostitution, theft, and witchcraft. It has been determined that you will be put to death by sacrifice to the demon that resides in Dalwick Cave.”
I grew up hearing the legend of the demon of Dalwick Cave. A horned beast with bright red skin, said to be the spawn of the devil himself, who feasted on the flesh of the unfortunate souls that were tossed into the cave.
It had been ages since the last sacrifice, but since Father Aldous had taken over the parish, he’d reignited a sense of religious righteousness and zealotry amongst the townsfolk. Of all the sinners in Grafberg, it appeared he’d chosen me to make an example of.
“No! Please! I didn’t do anything!” I insisted, my body trembling with fear.
“Grab her.” William ignored my plea and the two men grabbed ahold of each of my arms.
With brute force, they hauled me out into the hall and down the stairs.
“Please, please. Don’t do this,” I begged with tears tracking down my cheeks.
My words fell on deaf ears as the men dismissed me and the patrons of the inn focused their attention on their food and ale. It was as if I was invisible; that I suddenly ceased to exist now that the judgment had been made against me.
I shivered as the men pulled me out into the cold, my bare feet dragging through the snow. I hadn’t been allowed to put on my coat or my shoes, but I guess for someone being sacrificed, it didn’t matter. Frostbite didn’t bother the dead.
The men were silent as they dragged me through the woods to the cave that sat at the base of the mountain. Father Aldous would occasionally flash me a look of disgust if my cries became too loud, so I sobbed as quietly as I could with snot and tears rolling down my face.
Before long, we arrived at the jagged mouth of the cave.
I remembered the games of my youth where we’d get close to the edge and toss stones into the black depths before running away screaming, in fear of the demon.
