It was only an illusion.
Two shots rang out, their sharp crack in the night air startling even against the thunder from the falls. We scattered, falling to the sides of our huddle. I realized I was not hit as I tumbled with Aleksey toward the shore. I lost sight of our two companions in the darkness. Military men all of us, in our own ways, we were silent and still once the dive for cover was over.
Aleksey was immobile, mainly because I was lying upon him. I had little experience of musket balls, but I did not think they could travel through one man and hurt a second.
“Whore’s cunt. I cannot see. Are you reloaded?” The voice was far closer to our hiding place than I had guessed, or we would not have heard this hissed whisper over the constant roar of water. Apparently our trappers’ aim had not improved. “Did you hit the blond whoreson savage this time?”
I felt Aleksey shift beneath me, and I laid a hand over his mouth—gently, though, for I knew he did not really need my caution to stay motionless and silent.
“Do I have eyes that see in the dark? He has the devil’s luck.”
“Or you have the aim of a drunk pissing. Mayhap you have again bagged a wolf in his place.”
I did not know whether I was relieved or furious that Faelan had not been the target of their attack on us on the journey. It was hard to know, however, that such a comrade had fallen in my place.
At that, I put my mouth to Aleksey’s ear and spoke no louder than a heartbeat, for although the falls were ferociously loud, I had discovered a new respect for musketry. “They did not fly here.”
Aleksey nodded beneath my hand. He understood my meaning.
We now had a real chance, for even if I believed the witch and her unholy offspring had flown off this island, I did not believe these two men had flownontoit. They had crossed, and I was now determined to find out how.
Still cursing their luck at missing me, they split up to search for us, which was a very stupid thing for them to do.
Without needing further communication between us, Aleksey took one and I the other.
I chose to follow the one who had laughed about shooting Faelan—we needed them alive, and I did not entirely trust Aleksey to remember this if he had the man’s life in his hands.
I stalked my prey silently and took him down without him making a single cry of warning to his companion.
Despite his bluster and courage when behind his gun, he was not a man as I was: raised in a savage world by savage people. He fought only with his head and his body, throwing this latter, large and powerful, into the mix with abandon: teeth, nails, feet, forehead. Head and body are not enough, however. I had learnt to fight with mysoul, my whole being engaged in my desire to destroy an enemy; so, cold and starved even as I was, no boots and sick, he was no match for me.
We stumbled through the trees, one chasing, one running, then wrestling viciously until escaping once more. And then he came to the river, and there was nowhere more for him to run. He picked up a rock, and, trust me, if you have never witnessed someone being stoned to death, then you may underestimate the threat from a fist-sized river pebble. If it hit my head, he would kill me. But he had not the aim or speed to inflict such a mortal wound, and it only glanced off my shoulder, and then I was on him once more.
But then something unexpected happened that shows how deeply I was concentrating on him and the threat he posed. I had overlooked the river. It tasted him, and then it wanted him.
One leg shifted the sand beneath him, and a hole formed. The current swung away from its course and filled it, and from that one nip, it wanted more. He was swept into the force of its greed, but I lunged and held his arm. I needed him to show me how he had come to the island—I was desperate to save him, and he to have himself saved, of course, but I felt the traitorous grit shift beneath my feet too. I was sitting then, trying to brace myself upon the shore. He was dragging me in. I let go with one hand and seized a root projecting from the bank behind me. His face registered the horror of our situation. Was I strong enough to pull him against the river with one arm? I might have been, but in his terror, he clawed his way up my arm—my burnt arm, and the pain made me cry out and open my hand. He was gone before I could blink, and I was holding only air. I felt the root start to give behind me. I was only in a few inches of water. It was incredible how powerful it was. Very cautiously, I twisted, grabbed another handhold, and heaved myself up onto the gnarled roots. I did not ever want to be this close to the river again.
CAPTAINROCHESTERand Aleksey had captured the second man.
The officer had become separated from Major Parkinson and did not know where he now was. I made an attempt to find the old man. I wondered if he had perhaps fallen and was lying injured unable to call out; he had not looked well for some time. I could not find him. It was too dark to continue my search. I only again found Aleksey by dint of locating the shore and following it around toward the north.
Their prisoner was bound tight. He looked… wary, but not as frightened as he ought.
We conferred in low voices. I told them that I believed we were alone and that, therefore, it did not matter what we did to this man. Aleksey did not like what he knew I was proposing, but he did not have to do it—I did. We desperately needed to know how he had got upon the island.
I balanced my knife in my hand and considered this trapper—although by now I was fairly sure he was no trapper at all. This seemed like a good place to start. I asked him who he was. I dodged the spit. All men spit upon their torturer at the beginning of this adventure. I had spat upon mine. I did not think the less of this man for it.
I asked again, and this time I encouraged a civil reply by slicing off his ear.
Aleksey stood and went to look at the water. I did not want him to see me like this any more than he wanted to watch, but then, before I knew the outcome of my action, Aleksey returned and squatted down next to me, his hand upon my thigh. I felt the strength of his approbation, and we were as one once more.
I told the man that if he did not tell us what we wanted to know, then the devil’s disfigurements would be as nothing to his.
He told us.
He related how on a Sabbath they had left the colony for the short walk to the falls to admire them: the families and a few of the soldiers. They had gone to the promontory upon which I had fallen clutching the grass for comfort. But they went there often and were familiar with the place.
And then the devil had come to them. He had risen from the falls, exhaled on a breath from hell, and he had told them that he was come amongst them. “He wanted tribute—tribute of the most beautiful and the best—and we gave him—” He put his face into his bound hands and wept. “We gave him the girl who had come amongst us lately. She had been a captive of the Uron and had… she had a child with her that had been born from her terrible treatment at their hands. It was a foul thing… even so young…. We had found it with one of the colony’s cats and her new kittens….” He paused, deep in his memories. “So we gave Mary to him. She was fair of countenance, and we hoped he would not see into her heart before it was too late. He took her. He took them both into the falls with him, and we believed we had appeased the devil. Many of us then wanted to leave this place—abandon the colony. We could not stay here, and so we made preparation. But a foulness had come with the girl that had crept into the hearts of some of my brothers and sisters. They began to….” He paused, his face twisted not just from the pain of his missing ear but apparently from memories that were too awful to bear. “They performed unnatural acts… became wanton. Sin slithered between the cracks of our Church, and we were confounded. They would not leave this place, but we had not the heart to abandon them to their lusts.
