Chapter 18

She tried to shake her head and get up. Her head was heavy, as if her neck wasn’t strong enough to hold it, and the muscles on her back felt… weak, helpless, like they were sunk under meters of slime and mud. She groaned angrily at the presence sitting next to her but her own voice sounded foreign to her, more like a wounded beast’s moan than a defiant growl.

It is better if you just… rest.

Just the sound of the whisper nearly sent her mind into a panic. She groaned again, defiantly she thought, but weakly, desperately in truth. Her legs proved as unresponsive as her back so she just rolled to her side and…

No. Stay.

She cussed in her head or at least she was ready to before her body simply… stopped. This time it wasn’t the body that disobeyed her. It was her obeying the command. Her mind, her very will, felt as drained as her muscles, sunk under miles and miles of thick, sickly water. Desperation showered her and she almost whimpered. Only once before in her life had she felt as exposed, vulnerable, helpless… Her wrists and ankles were held then, her young will drained and stolen; now, they were just being told – no, expected! – to obey. And the mere comparison lit a fire.

She would not obey.

Stay. There is no need for this.

The veterans used to say there is always a moment, one moment that made one a Knight of the Shield. Most of the times, it came before one’s communion but sometimes, rarely, it came after. They said that those who tried to escape that moment became like rocks on a mountain slope. They would stand there, high above, looking at creation, motionless and grim. The elements would lay siege on them. Winds would whip them. Rain would gnaw at them. Snow would cover them. Hale would scar them. But still they would stand, firm. All that they would suffer, all the scars and cold and silent pain, all the forces that would try to break them, all of it, would simply forge them. Little by little, their mind and body would be brought to just the right shape. Their edges sharpened, their weakest parts dissolved, their core strengthened from the pressures of the world, their path decided as firmly as the stone they are made of. And then, without warning, without the slightest indication, under the heat of sun’s light, their will would expand and push their body. And in that moment, they would fall upon the world, neither angry, nor vengeful; perhaps not even willing. Simply inevitable. A Knight of the Shield.

She turned her head, eyes flaring with stubbornness. Her back, legs and arms felt heavy as stones, and she could barely move them for anything beyond keeping her balance as she lied sideways on the bench, but she could at least turn her head and look at the veiled bride.

Stay. Force not my hand.

It wasn’t a voice. Not really. And it wasn’t in her head either. It came from the Whisperer and to her ears but the sound was empty of the color and warmth of life, devoid of any feeling or urgency. It was there, undeniably, and it had weight, but it was no voice. It was… just wind. Dead wind talking.

 

I can teach you much. I can offer an eternity of justice.

Solifea wanted to say something clever. Something provocative that would potentially distract her enemy, something to taunt her and force her hand so that her hold on her would weaken. Her throat disagreed, refusing to cooperate. So, desperate but determined, Solifea… chuckled. It sounded like a croak, she thought, but her eyes glittered tauntingly to drive the point across, as she looked up, before she forced her body to roll and just drop down from the bench.

The Whisperer spoke and this time the mask moved with her mouth, under the veil.

“As you wish,” she said in a hoarse voice and the cruelty in it was palpable. “Bring her.”

Face planted in the dirt, Solifea kept chuckling tauntingly, as hands, living and obedient, grabbed her by the wrists and ankles and carried her away.

        *             *             *

He couldn’t even say where the men had come from. Dressed in grey robes, it almost seemed as if they had been standing there all that time and he had just been unable to focus on anything else but the Whisperer. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter. Whatever Solifea had done, whatever the power of her defiance, it had clearly disrupted the effect of the Whisperer. It had simply left behind the dread of her presence.

They were taking her to be the next sacrifice. That much was obvious. And if he lost her now, she would be lost period.

It was four men and the Whisperer. He could follow and hope he could keep up and discover where they were taking her, without being discovered in turn. Or he could strike now, knowing Ben should be with him soon.