Rachel A. Marks

The Covenant

broken stones

rest in circles, round

hide what lies within

darkness and death

crags, crevices deep-rooted

in Hell's breath

        

flesh is weak

stone is strong

flesh bleeds

willingly

seeking freedom

that stone will never have

                                  —M.M.

 

The Path

        

         On the turn of Eli's sixteenth summer, his master branded him for use in the mines and shoved him in a caravan headed north. His feet carried him towards Arena, just below the icy peaks of Sorrow's Shroud. He could see, looming ahead of them in a high crevice, the Sheol Gate, the door into the bowels of the mountain. Tales Eli heard from the region chilled his blood and weakened his knees. He had listened to them as he grew, prattled about by the kitchen folk. Stories that told of the sounds of weeping children on the wind, slaves stolen in the night, with only blood left behind, shadows that drained you of your very soul.

         His heart pounded against his ribs, harder and harder with each step, but he would not show fear. If he were an animal, at least he would be a strong one.

         Eli didn't know what it meant to be free. He was born to the chain, and so he would die.  For comfort, he had only his chest to clutch. It was the way of his tainted blood—a bastard of two worlds, belonging in neither. He never discovered why he'd been cursed to live when many children of mixed blood were thrown from the nearest cliff. He barely ever spent time thinking on it. It didn't matter. He was a slave, and now he was a mine rat, the lowest of slaves. He would spend the rest of his days bleeding out his life into this mountain.

         Unless he did something.

         His feet faltered on the path and the guard sent him a warning with a whip. Shards of glass woven into the tails tore at the back of his legs and Eli struggled to stand.

         "Move, cow!" the guard spat. "Or your rations go to the man in front of you tonight."

         Eli didn't look at the guard; he kept his eyes straight to the winding path ahead. Already he had gone without rations the night before. He wouldn't survive another day without water or food.

         He was losing track of time. It seemed to have slowed as the path lengthened before them. The pace hardened each day. The only sounds that followed them were the slapping of the whip and the heaving of breath. And now, as they reached the base of the mountain, all was up, up, up. Snow dotted the jutting, black rocks beside the path, and the tattered caravan breathed white. Eli no longer felt the cutting of metal on his ankles. His bare feet no longer bled. His body became as hard as the ground beneath him.

         When they reached a stone mark in the road the caravan pulled onto a plateau, and the call to settle was sent down the line. All went to their task, familiar with the evening routine. Eli was chained to two other boys; it was their duty to set the fires for each camp. He smelled smoke even before the first flame was lit and wondered if a village lay nearby. It seemed an inhospitable place for a settlement, all rocks and crags with little trees or brush. As he struggled alongside the other two boys he pulled his mind back from the thought. A village so near made him feel too close to freedom.

         The temptation to run made him shake. He was almost relieved to be chained to others, so that he didn't act without thinking.

         He looked to the two that were linked to him. One was a small whelp that hadn't put two words together the whole way, his bones obvious beneath a threadbare smock. The other, a young man named Edom, was close to Eli's age. His face had been marked by the pox and his eyes shifted in a way that made Eli unable to look at him for very long.

         They finished the first fire and moved on to the next. Eli could hear the guards talking inside the tent. One spoke of fruit. "Succulent, like a spring plum," he said.

         "These mountain men aren't easy to get around, Barcum," said another.

         "We're the Queen's men. If we need, then we take. And I need a piece of that one like—"

         "Shut up, Barcum! I'll have no more talk of disturbing the village. We camp, then we walk. No taking a breather with some mountain man's daughter. There's the beasts to think about on that side. We haven't been through this pass in a decade, and I ain't sure how the covenant stands. You wander too far in that direction and we could all be bled out. Now, go man the cows and leave it be."

         There was some mumbling and the burly guard that had torn at Eli's legs with the whip stormed from the tent and walked off into the throng of working slaves, yelling about how he would bring them pain if they didn't get the camp set soon. Darkness was coming.

         Eli's insides shook. A village. There was a village. The urge to escape overwhelmed him again. Why did he even allow it to begin? It could only end one way. But Eli knew that death was preferable to whatever waited within the bowels of this mountain.

         He glanced at his companions. Would these boys even hear him? Would they dare to go? One never spoke and the other hated him. Eli wasn't sure that he could bear to be the cause of their deaths, whether they liked him or not.

         They moved on to the next fire and soon completed their duty, settling in to wait for their rations.

         The night began to descend around them and the air turned sharp with cold. The guards made their rounds and then disappeared into their brazier-warmed tents with their beer-filled skins. Eli hugged his meager cloak to his chest and tried to block out his sudden uneasiness with the growing dusk. A beast cried off in the distance, and the wind grew a voice of its own, joining in, creating an eerie chorus through the rocks.

         "The Shroud's gonna eat us alive," Edom mumbled. He blew into his hands to warm them. Then he spat into the dirt at Eli's feet. "Tainted blood goes first."

         Eli looked at the wet dirt and curled his arms tighter around his chest. But the chill that filled him wasn't from the evening air.

         "How'd I get stuck with you two?" Edom asked as he poked at his shackle with a stick. "A bastard mutt and a weakling. I'd be long gone by now if it weren't for you. Frightened little maggots."

         Eli just looked at Edom, not sure of his tongue. His muscles tensed and anger filled him. The boy on the other side just stared, wide eyes unblinking.

         "You so anxious to go get killed?" Eli asked.

         Edom glared at him. "I know my way with a blade."

         Eli tried to look bored. He knew Edom was full of talk, and he knew blades mattered little in these peaks. "So, we go, then what? The guards will be on our tail by sunrise. The village is on the east side of the peaks. You know what hides in those shadows? Because I don't. You want to meet one? You have no idea what you're saying."

         Edom swallowed and sweat beaded on his brow. His thunder seemed to be fading with more talk of escape. "Guards don't follow slaves that head east. They'll just figure we fed our bones to the mountain."

         "And so we shall," Eli said looking at the silent boy beside him. He couldn't be more then eight summers. Would he live to see another?

         Eli knew he'd rather take his chances with the mountain's beasts than the darkness within its gut. If they lived through this escape he was sure Edom would try to kill them. Would Eli be prepared to kill Edom when the time came to defend himself and the boy? He looked at the pockmarked face sneering at him and wiped the spit from his foot, deciding the answer was yes.

         "So," Eli said. "When do we go?"

 

The Sacrifice

         The three boys snuck out of the camp as the guards’ beer-fed laughter grew to its loudest. They tried to silence their chains, holding them off the rocky ground. Only one group of slaves spotted them as they crept behind a tent.

         "Swift death for those," one of them muttered. The others just stared with sunken eyes, looking close to death themselves. Eli pushed away a wave of guilt for leaving. He would meet his end soon. Shame mattered little.

         They followed the smell of smoke, heading towards the east. Twilight descended, painting the sky orange and violet, the air growing thinner with the cold. The scattered snow turned silver, and the shadows began to grow together, softening the region's harshness as the light faded from the sky.

         There was a reason why no one tried to escape The Shroud. The tales the kitchen slaves wove in Eli's head were grounded in more than myth. As they climbed higher, bones began to scatter the pathways that wound up the ice-capped mountain. Red eyes glowed in the crevices and crags. Eli struggled to ignore them, trying not to see the leathery wing that peeked its way from the shadow of a standing stone or hear the snort of sulfur breath. Whatever the beasts were, they seemed inclined to let them pass.

         Edom shook more with each step as they pushed over the rock at a steady pace. "Can't be much further," he said. "The smoke's gettin' stronger."

         Eli stayed quiet, making himself move as swiftly as he could, helping the boy when he struggled.

         Finally they met the rise and it leveled off into a plateau sprinkled with shadowy huts and one or two work buildings.

         Edom's face widened into a grin. His chest expanded. "What'd I tell you, bastard." He laughed in triumph and began down the embankment, tugging Eli and the silent boy along with him.

         Eli stumbled, struggling for footing, as he muttered beneath his breath. Edom would get them all killed before the hour was through.

         They moved closer to the clustered huts and slowed, ducking behind a rock. All was dim and silent. Too silent. Where were the chickens? The dogs? The bleak huts looked back in obscure silence. All signs of life seemed to have stilled. The only thing that made Eli move forward was the tendrils of smoke coming from the hut behind the stable.

         They kept near the ground, slinking closer, and found what they needed inside the empty stable. Edom took a mallet and chisel from the wall and pounded at the chain that linked he and Eli. Eli uncovered a hammer and worked at the chain connecting him to the boy. The work filled the silent barn with sharp chinks sounding off the walls, red sparks spit from the friction. Eli's heart lurched when the shackle finally gave way. He stood, waiting in silence. Edom's knuckles whitened on the mallet. Was he trying to decide who to hit first? Now things could get complicated.

         Eli braced himself to act and gripped his hammer like a vice.

         A sound of laughter broke the stillness, and they all turned, looking in the direction of the eerie interruption. A chill sped up Eli's spine and his mind suddenly split in two directions. Run away, or hide?

         It came again, louder now, and then a scream, like the sound of a banshee, filled the air. It echoed off the mountainside, multiplying tenfold, until it seemed Eli's heart would burst from fear. The boy beside him shook and Eli watched as urine spread beneath the small feet. Edom dropped the mallet and ran into the growing darkness.

         The scream faded and turned to a sob. A woman's crying mingled with scratchy laughter. Eli tried to clear himself of the paralyzing fear overcoming him and moved to the opposite doorway. A light flickered in the small, circular window of a nearby hut.

         Eli turned back to the boy. Thick tears streaked down his cheeks and every one of his limbs shook. "Hide here," Eli said, pulling him behind a stack of crates. "Just stay quiet and I'll be right back. All right?" He paused and the boy nodded his head. "Good. Don't worry, everything's going to be fine." Empty words, but they seemed to make the boy's face settle a bit.

         Eli gripped his hammer and turned reluctantly away. He slunk towards the sounds. Why was he moving closer and not running away? It was as if the cry of the woman echoed in his heart. His chest shook and he had trouble getting a full breath, but still he moved forward. Closer and closer to the small, round window. Closer and closer to the mournful chorus.

         "Hold her!" came a rough voice. "She's gettin' blood all over."

         Eli swallowed hard and looked through the window, knowing he needed to turn and run, but unable to stop himself. And when his eyes beheld the scene, his heart stopped dead in his chest. Three guards, one standing over the bloodied body of a man and two holding a sobbing girl. Sweat beaded on Eli's forehead, and he struggled to figure out exactly what he was seeing.

         Barcum and two others. They hadn't heeded the warning of their leader? How had Eli not seen this coming? Most men refused restraint. This Barcum most of all, his thick fist and vast strength very familiar to Eli. But why torment these helpless people?

         The man on the floor was dead. Eli knew that without a doubt. Too much blood to be otherwise. Was the girl bleeding too? She had red stains all over her and her hair dripped with it. Tears streaked crimson down her face.

         Her sapphire eyes moved to Eli and held, pleading.

         Please, echoed in his head, mournful and aching.

         He jumped back and almost fell over.

         Help me.

         He scrambled away, trying to push the insisting voice from his head. Uselessly, he put his hands to his ears.

         Eli, please.

         He couldn't keep a sob from escaping his lips and mingling with the one in his head. How could she know him?

         A strange feeling overcame him then. There was a sudden sense of separation, as if he was no longer a part of himself, as if he had floated into the hut, a silent, waiting ghost. He could almost smell Barcum's foul breath, and the blood of the man on the floor. Feelings overwhelmed him: fear, sorrow, and torment, like a river of anguish and loss. All was lost. And now he was left to die alone. How could this have happened? Cold rage jolted him like lightning. 

         The girl's voice shouted once more in his head, Now, Eli! Before...

         Sudden energy filled his limbs and he was once more outside. The feelings lingered, like a fire licking at an inner wound. He moved with determined strides back to the hut. The girl's sobs still filled the air. Eli's heart still beat terror in his chest, but urgency overwhelmed it, rage drowned it out. When he reached the window, he looked now with different eyes. His fist gripped the hammer with purpose.

         The two guards, one wiry and young, the other pale and twitching with anticipation, now held the girl to the table. Barcum began moving towards them and Eli felt horror and rage fill his gut. His muscles clenched, itching to act, wanting to run, wanting to kill.

         "Guess the curse don't work no more, ey?" Barcum said. "Where's your sacred bats now? All your kin dead? Well, now they are." He kicked the old man on the floor and sneered. There was enjoyment in his eyes. He scratched his black beard and licked his lips as he moved forward, his body like a wall of flesh. He towered over her, casting a shadow, reaching out.

         Eli released a whistle. His throat shook. He prayed it would be enough. Adrenalin shot lightning through his veins. His chest ached from the power of it.

         Silence followed. Then Barcum growled, "Marcus, go check it out." The pale guard let go of the girl and moved to the door.

         Eli waited until just the right moment. The sound of wood scraping, and the door opening far too slow. Marcus stuck his head through the doorway and then ventured outside.

         Eli didn't stop to think. He swung with all his might. The hammer smashed into the man's skull with a crack, spraying red across Eli's vision. Marcus crumpled to the ground. Eli jumped back in shock. He looked down at the man he'd killed, unable to turn away. Dead eyes stared back in surprise. The mouth stood wide. So much blood.

         An angry voice broke Eli’s trance. "Marcus! What's going—" Barcum exploded through the doorway. He saw Eli and stopped dead.

         For a moment they both stood, staring at each other in silence. Barcum's brow pushed up to his hairline. His jaw clenched tight.

         Eli blinked past the blood and jumped at Barcum before the guard could react. His hammer fell in a blur, rose and fell again, and again. He couldn't aim. He couldn't think. Numbness filled him and time stopped. His heart beat harder with each swing, cracking at his ribs. His fist pounded at hard flesh, pleading for it to yield. Barcum grunted and fought beneath him. Thick arms, like timber, flailed at Eli's head.

         He felt something hot slash across his arm. A dagger.

         He fell back as the young guard came at him, jabbing the blade, trying to get him away from Barcum. Eli staggered back; bloody hammer still clutched tight, muscles tense. Barcum's breathing was strange, as if he were breathing under water. His chest was red with blood, and his jaw looked crooked. Eli was shocked that he'd done so much damage so quickly. Likely, he'd killed the man.

         A man. Not a mighty queensguard, just a man.

         Eli watched in silence as the young guard blinked in shock at his leader. He looked at Eli as if trying to decide something, and then backed away, running into the dusk alone. Just like Edom.

         A whimper came from the doorway, and Eli looked up to see the girl standing over Barcum holding an ax. She was like a crimson ghost, all covered in blood. Her black hair hung in strings around her face, and her sad eyes seemed lit by a blue fire. Eli stood and stepped back. This girl frightened him more then any guard.

         "We need to drag him to the stones," she said. Her voice was so small that Eli had to think for a moment. Had she really spoken or was this more talk in his head?

         She reached down to grab one of Barcum's wrists and began to pull. Eli scrambled around to grab the other and followed her lead. They dragged the wheezing guard across the clearing, toward a circle of standing stones. Eli's fear began to turn to morbid curiosity. Who was this girl? And why did she want to drag this half-dead guard across a clearing?

         She motioned to the center, where a single stone laid prostrate to the setting sun. "There," she said. "We must lay him with his head to the sundeath."

         Sundeath? Eli supposed she meant sunset. He hesitated a moment, unsure. But the girl seemed determined. She leaned over and began trying to sit Barcum up, tugging under his arms.

         "We've got to get him up, hurry," she said, urgency lacing her words. "He's going to be dead any moment."

         Unsure why, he bent down to help her. She seemed so anxious to complete the strange task, and he saw no harm in it.

         They turned the body and heaved it onto the altar. The sun left only a small glow at the edge of the horizon now. It was almost dark.

         Eli looked at the guard. His skin was gray with death, his wheezing more insistent. So what if he died? He was about to say as much when the girl grabbed him and ran from the circle.

         "Down," she hissed, pulling him to the ground. "Never look them in the eyes."

         Before Eli could ask what she meant, a strange sound filled the clearing. A rustle and a stirring. Scraping and scratching on stone. An animal's cry, then more joining in, creating a mingling song of excitement. Then he saw the rocks grow wings, claws, and eyes. But, no, they were no longer rocks, they were...bats. Gigantic bats. Twice the size of a man.

         The beasts emerged from the stone and moved to the center, hovering over the altar, eyeing the offering. One of them screeched and the others all joined in. The sound seemed to pound in Eli's chest with the beat of his heart. Wings spread wide, and the beasts stretched out their necks, howling at the sky. Barcum shook on the altar, and his body began to change. Eli could almost see the life force leaving him like little white threads unraveling in a tapestry. It entered each of the giant bats one by one making them seem to grow larger.

         Then all at once the bats sank back into the stones, as if they had never been. And then stillness. The shell of Barcum lay like a shriveled leaf left behind after the first winter frost.

 

The Cycle

         The girl seemed disinclined to answer any questions. But then Eli wasn't even sure what to ask. He walked to the stable to look for the boy. Eli hoped he hadn't run off in fear like Edom. Relief filled him as the boy poked his head around the crates.

         "It's safe," Eli said, still unsure if this was true.

         They walked back to the hut. The girl knelt at the old man's side, cleaning the blood from his wounds.

         "Your father?" Eli asked.

         She nodded her head. "We were all that was left."

         "Left?" Eli thought again of the surrounding ghost huts. No one else. No life.

         "He wasn't going to leave me alone. He promised."

         The thought echoed in his head again, left to die alone. A chill worked through him. "Where's the rest of the village?"

         "All gone. All Sacrifice. All but me."

         "You mean those bats? Did they kill all the people here?" Eli wondered how long it would be until they got hungry again.

         "So many years, and no babes. But we had to Sacrifice. One every three years, for food, for protection. And the Queen would not meddle with us. One life for many. And the Horong would bless us. They say they will bless the people. But now we are gone. No more..." Her voice trailed away and she sat very still, staring at her father.

         Eli was silent, unsure of what else to say. Horong? Could that be the name of those giant beasts?

         The girl finished washing her father's wounds. She wiped clean his face and hands, kissing each finger. She wrapped him in a wool blanket and then whispered what sounded like a prayer before she kissed his forehead. The tears had dried on her face now, and red streaked down her cheeks as if she had cried blood. It stained her skirts and her blouse and her hair. But she seemed to have no wounds.

         Eli moved to her side and knelt down. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

         "All is death. Now it is he who lives. It is we who are alone." She covered her father's face with the edge of the blanket and then stood. "You will both be safe here. No one will bother us now. You may stay if you like. By sunbirth we will have meat. Set yourselves a bed and rest. I need to wash." Then she left the hut.

         Eli's mind spun. So many thoughts, so many questions. And in that instant, as he sat by the dead man, the knowledge came to him.

         He was free.

         That night Eli couldn't sleep. His mind spun with a thousand thoughts and images. The dead men—those his own hands had struck down—were there when he closed his eyes, looking at him with gaping mouths and choking breaths. Would he really be safe here? Would they come after him and the boy? What had happened to Edom?

         Eventually he rose and left the hut, deciding to walk the village. Perhaps the night air would help clear his head.

         He noticed a bit of grass off to the far east side of the village and found himself following it. The trail led him to a whispering creek. There was a small, snow-fed waterfall trickling its way over the rocks, and a few weathered fruit trees. But other then that and the small patch of grass, all life seemed to be gone from what was left of the village; it's desolation too complete to sustain any real life. He wondered how the girl and her father had survived with so little.

         He splashed the frigid water on his face and neck and tried to process what was happening. There were so many new feelings surfacing within him, he wasn't sure what to grasp onto for balance.

         Then his eyes rested on a dark heap lying at the base of one of the dead trees.

         A chill worked up his spine. It hadn't come from the icy water. The form was familiar. It had to be Edom. Sleeping?

         Eli moved closer, his fists clenched, ready for a fight. The night's energy began to run through him once more. He recognized the cloak now.

         "Edom," he hissed. "Get up."

         The boy was silent. Eli tapped him with his foot.

         "Edom," he said, louder this time. But still there was nothing.

         He knelt slowly and placed his hand on Edom's shoulder. It felt wet. He pulled back and looked at his hand. It was red and sticky. Blood.

         Fear laced through him. He jerked away and stumbled back. But as he fell, he hit something soft.

         "Are you all right?" came the girl's voice.

         Eli turned and almost struck out at her before he could think.

         The girl stood, watching him with worried eyes. In the darkness they were almost black.

         Eli was having trouble finding his tongue. He took a deep breath and looked around. She didn't seem worried. He tried to accept that ease into himself, but as he crouched beside the bloody body of his fellow slave he was finding it difficult.

         "I—I found him," he said lamely.

         "Who?" She looked at the body with curiosity.

         "Edom," he said. "My...um..." Eli wasn't sure what Edom was to him just now. "This boy was chained to me. He came with me and the boy, but ran at the sound of...of your cries."

         She frowned down at Edom's still form. "Well, he is wasted. Soon he will be bones. No good to us now."

         Eli looked at her in confusion. "What?" Why didn't she just say he was dead?

         "His Sacrifice is lost." She said slowly, as if she were speaking to a child. He suddenly felt like one under her gaze. "The Horong have already killed him. He must have tried to go back down the mountain." She looked to the stones where the withered shell of Barcum still laid. Eli felt himself quiver at the sight.

         The girl must have seen his fear, or perhaps she felt it too. "Don't be afraid," she said, almost to herself. "They cannot harm us now. As long as we remain here, within the covenant, we'll be safe. At least for another Cycle. Three more years of peace. I hope it will be happy."

         She looked pointedly at Eli and seemed to force a smile to appear. The gesture changed her face entirely. As if a candle were suddenly lit within her. "We will just have to make it so, will we not?"

         Eli could think of nothing to say to her strange talk. He looked at her face in wonder. Her father had just died, and yet she stood smiling down at him? What sort of girl was this? No longer was she covered in blood. He could see her hair was almost blue, it was so black; like the mountain stone they stood upon. Her face shone as pale as the moon, a stark contrast to his own dark flesh. There was a set to her chin and brow that seemed almost regal. He'd never seen her kind before. Perhaps a tribe lost long ago. Whatever she was, she appeared to be the last. And this didn't seem to bother her.

         "Shall we go inside?" she asked with a tilt of her head.

         He nodded mutely and stood.

         "Perhaps you should wash," She said, looking at his hands and then to the creek.

         He glanced at the blood and walked back to the small falls. As he rinsed his hands once more, he tried to still the shaking in his limbs. He focused on clearing his mind once more. He would not sleep this night, but he could at least find a place of peace within himself. If only for a little while, he could enjoy this strange gift of freedom.

         When he turned around to follow the girl back to the hut she was already gone.

         When morning came they found the food piled outside the hut. Fresh eggs and oats. Carrots, onions, and leaks. Nuts and dried figs. And hung from the doorpost, a brace of conies, their bodies still warm. More than enough food for the day.

         The girl didn't seem even the least bit amazed at the food's sudden appearance. She brought it all inside and began to prepare breakfast, filling the hut with smells that made Eli's belly ache.

         "Thank you," he said as she handed him a piece of warm flatbread and some figs.

         She nodded and turned back to the fire. "I am Seanna," she said.

         Eli found it hard to swallow. He was suddenly reminded that he didn't need to tell her his name. Somehow she already knew it.

         They went through the day silently: Eli, Seanna, and the boy. Working beside each other, but not speaking. Eli chopped wood and prepared the conies for supper. The boy spent most of his time fiddling with tools in the stable. Seanna moved over the hut, cleaning and mending cloths, cooking and grinding flour. She was never still.

         Eli thought many times to ask the question most plaguing him, but could never quite work up the courage. How had she known his name?

         Finally at supper, he spoke his thought.

         "You told me," she answered simply.

         "I told you?"

         "Yes." And she looked at him with her bright eyes. "I am Eli, you said. And I knew you would help me."

         "When did I tell you this? How?"

         "When your eyes met mine. You spoke into my heart. It is the stones. At times...well certain people may find a joining when they are near them. Family and...lovers." She looked at her hands, and Eli felt his face heat up.

         "Oh," was all he seemed able to say.

         "You were not afraid," she whispered. "How are you so brave?" She seemed suddenly like a small child. She looked up at him again and leaned forward, truly seeking an answer. Her eyes pierced his own.

         "I was terrified," he said, and almost laughed. Him, brave? It didn't seem to fit.

         "But you came and killed them. Two men, and you just a boy."

         He sat up straight. "I'm no boy," he said. "My sixteenth summer has long past."

         A smile crept out the side of her mouth, and he felt a tingle spread through his chest at the sight of it. "Young man, then. A brave one."

         Heat suffused his face again, and he suddenly found the contents of his bowl very interesting.

         "I am just passing my fifteenth summer, so I am not so very old either," Seanna said. She stood and began to clear the floor of their uneaten food.

         Eli watched her, wondering what was to come.

         The days passed, each one with more provisions set at the doorstep. Each morning one or two new surprises joined the pile; an ax blade, a thick pelt. Eli marveled at the order of the relationship between these beasts, the Horong, and Seanna's people, or what had been Seanna's people. From what Eli had gleaned from her it seemed that every three years a man or woman was chosen by casting lots. The chosen would then lay himself on the altar and release his life force to the Horong in exchange for provision and protection for the people. But as time passed and no babes were born the people became less and less. Until at last, Seanna and her father were all that was left. And so this is what Barcum had bought them for three years: provision and protection for a girl, a mute, and a bastard.

         No guards came seeking them, just as Seanna had said. Eli watched, and waited. But after a new moon with no sight of anyone, he began to let himself relax. It felt strange not having someone telling him what to do all day long. And there was no whip. No angry faces. No hatred. Soon Eli began to feel new. His body felt stronger, the air crisper. Everything seemed clearer.

         The boy seemed content, his wise and silent eyes ever watchful. Eli marveled at his ability to adapt. He was always emerging with new things from the stable. He'd mended one of Seanna's pots, and built her a pot hanger to hang it over the fire with. Still, he never spoke, but a smile had touched his lips more than once.

         It was strange being around a girl so much. Seanna was a soothing presence, but at times she made Eli nervous. She looked at him in ways that sent his heart pounding, and when night came and they laid their heads to sleep, Eli could feel her eyes through the darkness. Something was on her mind. He knew what was on his, and he ended up taking many cold dips in the snow-fed waterfall to quench it.

         One morning Seanna awoke in great spirits. She made oatcakes and gave Eli the first one, warm from the stones, with a smile that made his face turn hot. Several times she came to check on him during the day with a warm cup of tea as an offering. He seemed to suddenly be the center of her thoughts. When he came inside from chopping wood, she was sitting by a looking glass, running a horse brush through her hair and humming softly. She stood when he entered and came up beside him, pressing her lips to his cheek. Then she walked past him, out the door. He was so stunned, he couldn't move for several minutes. Why was she acting so strange?

         That night he discovered the answer.

         Seanna awoke him from a dead sleep, whispering in his ear, "Eli, wake up. Come with me, Eli."

         He squinted his eyes open and looked at her. What was she doing? "Come where?"

         "Shhh," she admonished him. "You'll wake the boy."

         He sat up and before he could get oriented she was pulling him out the door into the freezing night air.

         "What's going on, Seanna?" He hugged his chest and shuffled after her into the stable.

         "It's time," she said.

         "Time for what?" He was yearning for his wool blankets and getting a little irritated.

         "My cycle," she answered.

         He blinked at her. "Your what?"

         "My cleansing is over. It's the beginning of my cycle."

         This wasn't anything he wanted to know about. "That's nice, Seanna. Can I go back to bed?"

         But she wasn't listening to him. She was pulling him to a pallet. He looked down at the blankets, all set in place over a bed of hay. A lamp, a bowl of water, and a few oatcakes sat to the side.

         "What is this?" he asked.

         "Our wedding bed."

         Eli's throat clenched. "What?"

         She smiled with a tilt of her mouth; her cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "Our wedding bed. For the joining. We are all that is left. We cannot wait much longer. We need a child. For our hope, Eli." Her eyes were wide and innocent. They looked at him as if he should understand all these things that were happening to him. As if he should be happy.

         He didn't know what to say. His heart was shaking. He was terrified of her words. A husband? Him? He was...he couldn't...

         "We will find love," she said, her voice turning hopeful. "It will come in time. I will help you."

         "I don't think...this is..."

         "All will be well," she whispered, and dropped the blanket from her shoulders, moving closer.

         Eli's breath caught in his throat. Seanna's eyes looked straight into his, the tenderness of hope in her look, heart wrenching. He had never seen anything so beautiful. He reached out and ran his fingers over her hair. So soft.

         What was he doing? How could this be true?

         She took his hand and put it to her cheek. "We will be one, Eli. You and I. One breath. One hope. For eternity."

         He swallowed hard, and tried to block out the sudden terror that crept into his thoughts. He was a half-breed. Unclean. Couldn't she see that?

         "Seanna, I..." But he couldn't seem to make himself say it.

         She kissed the palm of his hand and he felt his spirit tremble.

         "I'm afraid," he said, his body shaking.

         She smiled and reached out to place her hand on his chest, over his heart. "But this is your destiny."

         And in that moment he knew that she was right. His spirit shook with the truth of it. His destiny. Seanna.

         So Eli brought her to him and made her his wife. 

         Soon Seanna's belly swelled with life. She hummed softly and talked to it as if the child within could hear every word. Eli watched her in wonder. She almost seemed to have grown more beautiful. Her hair shined brighter, and her skin felt softer to his touch.

         "A child," she said in wonderment. "Our salvation."

         She smiled and kissed him, putting his hand to her belly. "Your son." And pride filled her face.

         Eli reveled in these moments. He drowned himself in her glow. Never had he felt so happy. So complete. Seanna made him whole. She'd given him hope. They walked the ghost village each day and talked of the past and dreamed of the future, and in the night she belonged to him, body and soul.

         The boy seemed happiest when inventing something, and he spent much of his time trying to make Seanna's life easier. Seanna, of course adored him, deciding they could no longer call him "boy".

         "Enoch, I think," she said, and the boy graced her with a wide grin.

         One night they sat beside the fire and laughed at the shadows Enoch made with his fingers on the wall. Seanna lay cradled in Eli's lap, stroking her belly. Soon she began to hum a sweet tune she often sang. But this time she added words Eli had never heard before.

        

         The waking, the waking,

         on the other side of death.

         Come sweet sleep,

         come sweet sorrow,

         I long for your regret.

         Sinews and vessels,

         like a prison of flesh.

         Come sweet sleep,

         come sweet sorrow,

         I long for your sunset.

        

         Chills worked up Eli's spine at her words. How could she sing of death to the child?

         "I don't like that song," he said, trying to keep the growing unease from his words.

         She smiled up at him. "Death is life, my love. The child must know this above all else."

         "What are you saying? The child needn't know of death. It isn't even a part of this world yet."

         "Oh, yes it is," she said leaning towards him. She grasped his hand and put it to her belly. "Feel its life. And yet it cannot know peace. I will teach the child where true peace lies."

         "And where is that? I would like to know what could be more peaceful then this life we have created here."

         "Yes, this is a good life." She released his hand and leaned back against the wall looking out the window to the stars. Her face turned grave. "But this life is only a small part of eternity. There will come a day when trouble falls once more. And each time it will crush us more then the first. I watched my kin die one by one. I watched my father die for nothing. This life is pain. I am the one left behind. My lot was never chosen, and I remained each turning of the Cycle to try and find peace within all the pain. I know it will only come when death releases me. Then I will rest in the arms of the Keeper."

         Eli was unsure of what to say. His mood was dark. He hated talk of death, and had no notion of anything beyond it. "How do you know this Keeper watches and waits for you? He is most likely a myth. Something your parents told you to keep the spirits from tormenting you at night."

         "The Horong know of the Keeper. They do not like you to speak his name."

         Eli stared at her in shock. "They know of him? How?"

         "I do not know. I have never asked. But I believe. And my father sits with him now. And my mother. One day I will sit among them. And you beside me."

         Eli swallowed his rebuke and stood. He would end this conversation now before she could speak of the child's death. "I need to fetch some water so we can wash before bed." And he walked out into the cool night air.

         He grabbed a bucket from the side of the hut and walked to the waterfall.

         Death. It seemed to almost be palpable within the air now. Its eyes were on them, and it made him tremble. How could she bring such a thing into this perfect night? Their life was hung by a delicate thread. Too much weight and they would all fall into oblivion. He felt such a strong desire to keep it balanced, to not allow pain or strife into their little world, but he could not have known his wife would wish for it. Wish for death. Something he could never comprehend. He had just found life.

         He filled the bucket and walked back to the hut, unable to settle himself. When he entered the hut once more Seanna and the boy both looked at him with eyes of pity.

         He set the bucket down and grunted goodnight. He couldn't look at them. Shame filed him. How could he be angry at Seanna for a belief? It was childish. But then Eli realized. He was jealous. Seanna was unafraid of death. But Eli was terrified.

         With each turning of the moon Seanna grew. She swelled so large, Eli was sure she would burst. She complained that the child would never come. Until one night the cry came to him again.

         Eli!

         And his son was being born.

         Eli was terrified. He and Enoch mopped up the blood, but it only came more swiftly. Seanna screamed and writhed, calling out his name like a prayer. He had to help her, she kept saying.

         Please.

         Inside, Eli was being torn to shreds. He had no idea what to do. In the end it was Enoch who coaxed Seanna to stillness. The baby came quickly then, revealing its red body to the world, and complaining of the brightness with its cries.

         "Is he well?" Seanna whispered.

         Eli looked at the writhing form in awe. Not a boy.

         "It's a girl, my love." And his heart filled with pride. "She's beautiful."

         Eli wiped the babe clean in a daze. His hands shaking and clumsy, he wrapped the small form tightly in a blanket before putting it in Seanna's reaching arms. He knelt beside his wife and his daughter, kissing their brows, unable to keep from touching them, making sure they were both real. Tears stung his cheeks and he struggled to keep his joy contained.

         "What should we call her?" Seanna asked.

         Eli studied his daughter, but before he could speak a voice came from behind him.

         "Rebekah," Enoch said.

 

The Shroud

         The years passed swiftly, and the time for Sacrifice came without warning. Eli knew it would arrive again, but he was content to live within the dream for as long as possible. But now the time had come and he felt as if he were being slowly suffocated. Seanna had sadness in her eyes, but she showed no true fear. Eli marveled at her strength. How he wished to have some for himself.

         "We should just leave," Eli said one night when the anxiety overwhelmed him.

         "We cannot," Seanna said with wide eyes.

         "Why not?"

         "We would all die if we tried to leave, Eli. No one descends The Shroud alive. No one but a servant of the Queen. You saw what happened to Edom. You and Enoch are slaves, I am a peasant. We must remain in the covenant, or we will all die. The Horong would descend upon us like vultures."

         "Well, this can't go on."

         "And what do you suggest we do?" she asked. "Should all of us surrender to death at once? Rebekah needs a life. We must try. For her sake."

         "What are you saying, Seanna?" Horror filled his heart. He knew what she was thinking. "You cannot be Sacrifice. You're Rebekah's lifeline. Without you she would die."

         "There are other ways to feed a babe her age," she said. She looked as if she had already made her decision.

         "No, Seanna," he growled. His body shook. He couldn't let her even think it. How could she think he would let her? "There must be another way." He knew he should relent and offer his own life for theirs. But somehow he couldn't believe it was over. There had to be a way for them all to live.

         So Eli went to the stones at sunset. He reached out and placed his hand to the cold rock. These beasts would not have them. Did a man's will mean nothing?

         "How much!" he hissed at the dead stone. "How much blood until you're quenched? What will it take?"

         Everything, came the hiss of the Horong. It engulfed the stones in shadow, and made the air thick with sulfur.

         Eli's breath stilled. A chill worked its way down his spine. He could feel the darkness engulf his mind like a cold force. Evil breathed at the nape of his neck.

         "Everything?" he whispered.

         Everything.

         "But I have nothing. Everything I have you have given me."

         Yes. All but one.

         "What?" he asked, not wanting the answer.

         Rebekah.

         "No!" How could they ask it? This evil would take his child. Rebekah. A sob escaped his lips at the very thought of her small form on the altar.

         Only purity can satisfy. Only holiness can quench the fire. Only love. For only this: pure love, and true devotion, we will pass our shadow from this mountain. Love Sacrifice.

         Eli turned away from the circle in despair.

         When he returned to the hut he told Seanna what the Horong had said. She cried out and held Rebekah tight. He had never seen her so afraid, and it only made his own fear cut deeper. That night she would release the child to no one, not even Enoch.

         The next morning there were no provisions. They ate the little that was left from the day before, and huddled together, unable to force themselves to work. The sun reached its peak and still they had not moved. Rebekah played quietly in the corner, but even she seemed to sense something was coming to an end. Her little eyes watched Eli and Seanna closely.

         Every so often Eli would rise and pace the small room, unable to quench the fire in his gut. Enoch watched, his wide eyes clouded with tears. He seemed to want to say something. Several times he'd opened his mouth over the last few days, but could not seem to speak whatever it was. He'd spoken very little since Rebekah's birth. But it was almost as if he were afraid to speak now.

         "We cannot just sit here until we starve," Eli said, filling the silence.

         Seanna reached in her pocket and pulled out a vial of fluid. She moved it in her palm, caressing it. "Father and I were going to take this when the time came. There may be enough for us all." She looked defeated.

         "Put that away, Seanna." He knew she was probably right but he couldn't even allow himself to think it. He wouldn't give up so soon, only hours since the turning.

         "There may be another way," Enoch said, surprising them both. They turned to him.

         Fear laced its way through Eli's bones. The boy looked suddenly different. Older. Wiser. His young brow was creased with pain and worry. His eyes seemed to almost glow in the firelight.

         "What?" Seanna asked, her voice shaking.

         "Quench the fire," Enoch answered.

         "I will not give them my daughter!" Eli said, his heart racing, his body shaking. "I'll die first!"

         "Yes," Enoch said, looking pained. "And Seanna." And a tear slid down his cheek.

         "What do you mean?" Seanna's eyes darted to Eli's. Did he see hope there? How could she have hope?

         "Separate you are Sacrifice," The boy said. "But together you become Love Sacrifice."

         Eli looked at him in shock. The boy was right. He had to be right. Pure love and true devotion. This they had together. And Rebekah was the product of this love. Wasn't that what made her worthy?

         He looked at his wife. Seanna. His love. As one they could quench this fire. And Rebekah could live. Free.

         He felt the fear lace through him like fire. It burned in his veins and made him shake. At one time he had been so eager to die. When slavery felt like a burden he could no longer bear, death felt like a release. But now, as he looked at those who had been his life for the last three years, he found himself unable to imagine it. To lose so much. And so soon after gaining it.

         But now, whether he found peace in it or not, he would be Sacrifice. Willingly. His life, Seanna's life, for theirs. For the children. This he could find strength in.

         Seanna held their daughter and wept. She kissed Rebekah's brow and her tears mingled with the girl's black curls. "My child," she said through her sorrow. "You shall live."

         And as the sun set into the edge of the mountain, they walked from the hut. Enoch held Rebekah's little hand and cradled her head on his hip. Two children. Would they even survive? But Eli knew this was the only hope for a future.

         As Seanna and Eli walked to the stones, the two little ones remained behind. They watched their parents from the doorway of the hut with wide eyes, and Eli's heart almost failed him at the sight.

         He clutched Seanna to him and kissed her head. "All will be well, my love," he said through his tears. "You will be with your Keeper soon."

         She looked at him with liquid azure eyes. "And you with me, Eli."

         He nodded his head, unable to answer through his pain. He would cling to her faith. Perhaps it would save him too.

         They undressed each other and stood naked against the setting sun. Eli lifted his wife and set her on the altar, her back to the sundeath. At least in the next world she would know light. He climbed up beside her and faced her, faced his fear, faced death. He couldn't look back at the children. He couldn't think of it. All he could do was watch the eyes of his wife.

         He pulled her to him. Her body felt soft, her skin warm. She was life, she was his. He took her lips and tasted his freedom once more. The subtle tenderness. The hope hidden in joined breath. He took it into himself, soaking in the peace that came with it.

         And even as the rustling began he felt still, he felt calm. Scratching and scrapping within the stones, and the rustle of wings. But all Eli knew was the nature of love.

         As the cries began he knew a moment of terror. But it faded as Seanna clasped him tight and hid her head at the nape of his neck, whispering into his chest, "My love..."

         "My life..." Eli answered.

         And the wings spread wide and all became light.

        

The Children

         Enoch walked behind Rebekah as they made their way towards the circle of stones. It had been ten years since the sacrifice. They came here each turning of the season to watch the sun set against the stones, and remember.

         "Look, Enoch," Rebekah said pointing where The Shroud jutted up towards the peaks. "The goats are coming down to pasture."

         The goats navigated across the remains of winter's snow as it melted from the high rocks. Flower-dotted vines had begun to wrap their way around every surface, creating a blanket of green over the black stone. Grass emerged from beneath the soft earth at Enoch's feet, and the waterfall pounded at the river's whirling surface. It sent white, chilled mist into the air around them, and reverberated in Enoch's chest.

         Rebekah turned to him and smiled. A smile so much like her mother's it made Enoch's heart clench a little each time he saw it. Still, after all these years he missed them, Eli and Seanna. But now all was green and full of life. Because of their sacrifice, he and Rebekah were free.

         "I see Fenna has a wider girth then last we saw her," Enoch said. "Perhaps our herd will be growing once more."

         "Wonderful. A summer babe!"

         She came and slipped her hand into his. Her head rested on his arm as they entered the circle. The stones, smooth and white, reflected the sun's light like alabaster.

         "Tell me again, Enoch," Rebekah said for the countless time. "About mama and papa."

         Enoch smiled and kissed the top of her head. "Very well," he said.

         So they settled in the new grass, leaning against the altar, facing the sundeath. Rebekah picked a flower by her foot and placed it in her hair, then turned with wide eyes to hear the tale once more.

         Enoch began, "On the turn of Eli's sixteenth summer his master branded him for use in the mines..."

 

Copyright 2006, Rachel A. Marks

Rachel A. Marks is a home schooling mom to four beautiful children. She loves dirt-bike riding and spending time with her family. Currently, she is working with her agent to publish her first novel. You can check out her new column at The Sword Review, "Between the Lines", for the latest on what's new in the Christian speculative book market.