The feeling that another curse-bearer was near.
“Hi there,” a woman’s voice called behind me. I turned, and the woman from last night lifted her bound hands as much as her rope allowed to gesture a greeting at me. “This is awkward, I assume, but I’d like to give an apology for last night.” She half shrugged. “They only keep me around to find the others, you know.”
She paused, her wide eyes filled with a sprinkle of concern. I recognized the hunch in her shoulders, and the exhausted defeat on her face. She marched toward the same grave as me.
I pointed toward my shut mouth and shrugged.
“Ah, that’s right. Cursed to silence, I’d heard. Might be better that way. Seems my mouth only ever gets me in trouble with them.” She jerked her head to the Reapers. “I’ve been traveling with them for nearly a year. My name’s Zaylee, by the way.”
My eyes widened. A year? It seemed impossible they’d let any curse-bearer live that long.
Zaylee shrugged, and a strand of long, dark hair fluttered over one shoulder. “Well, I haven’t truly lived that whole time, to be fair. Cursed with one thousand deaths and all.”
I raised a brow.
“I’ve died several times, and don’t remember all of them, to be honest. They sent me to the executioner’s block and back twice now, figuring they must reach a thousand deaths soon.” A hollow look settled over her dark gaze. Her words came out in a whisper. “It seems not.”
She turned to watch the Reapers loading bags over the horses’ backs. They packed dried foods and containers of water into the saddlebags.
“I’m sure they didn’t use to be this way.” She lowered her voice and dropped her eyes as one man walked toward us. She flicked her gaze up to follow him when he’d passed her. “The King takes their families and holds them as ransom for their work. Each trip that fails to bring a curse-bearer ends with another family member killed. It turns them hard.”
Bile climbed up my throat. I’d risked my life to save my family, but I’d never expected the Reapers to carry the same motivation. These were the king’s right-hand men. And apparently also his prisoners.
“The one they call Dray has been in service the longest,” Zaylee continued, unaware of the questions pooling in my mind and the words I longed to speak. “He’s lost all but a sister. They say his sanity slips with each fall of the King’s blade.”
I nodded, a twist of horror running through me. What he’d done to me last night certainly spoke of a man gone insane. The King’s brutality proved horrific, but I refused to give Dray any forgiveness. One man’s sin did not spell permission for another’s.
Dray draped a weighted bag over the black stallions back. He dug into his breeches and that silver knife he’d used to cut my clothes away glistened in the sunlight. It fell into the saddlebag, which he latched with a metal buckle. Dray reached beneath the animal with a tenderness he’d not shown me last night, and secured the pack. When he stood, those dark eyes caught me, and I flinched as surely as a beast caught in a metal trap.
The Reaper smiled, a knowing expression on his face. He started toward me.
Zaylee leaned near and whispered just for my ears. “Keep your head down and your legs open, and you may survive to see the executioner’s blade yet. And let’s hopeyouwon’t survive that.”
She jerked as Dray neared and studied the ground.
He barely looked at her. “Get back to Alvah, Zaylee.”
She ducked her head and slipped away, as silent as wind through a barren tree. I watched her retreating form, wishing I could follow in her steps.
Dray’s hand grabbed my waist. He drew the chain from the post and led me toward the saddle. The thought of the leather against my aching ass made my legs tense with dread.
“Up, then. And don’t even think to reach for the blade. I know you saw it. I’d have your head before you ever touched the hilt.” He lifted me in a moment, and my sore cheeks beat against the unforgiving leather. I drew a sharp breath and flinched, waiting for the sudden pain to deplete.
“Remembering last night, Elys?” Dray swung up behind me, the intimidating press of his body drawing away the pain to make room for fear. He drew his hand to my neck and tilted my head into his shoulder. The pad of his thumb rubbed against the metal collar secured there.
He laughed and dropped the collar, exchanging it for the reins in front of me. His mounting seemed to signal the other Curse Catchers to climb onto their horses, and the group rode toward the narrow road into the forest.
The steed twisted beneath us, and the remnants of pain drew up my legs. I wanted to scream as tendrils of fire ate my nerves, but I forced my face and breathing to remain steady. I didn’t want the Reaper to feed on the fear he doubtlessly sought.
Another Reaper drew beside us. His long auburn hair matched the brown horse he rode on. A strange knot rested on the back of the saddle with a rope that trailed to where Zaylee walked on the other end, hands secured to the man’s horse, barely matching his pace. I never expected to envy one on a long walk, but the pain in my rear with each step of the horse made me long for her position.
The man, Dray had called him Alvah, came beside us. “Will you take the lead today?”
Dray shrugged. “No, I’ll watch the back. You can have the lead, or Seth, if he’d rather.”
Alvah nodded and pulled on Zaylee’s rope. She trotted forward, but sent me a look over her shoulder. I caught her mouth the words ‘I’m sorry’ before they disappeared into the crowd of horses.
Leaving me alone with the Reaper.
