Untouchable Girl_A Fantasy Adventure Page 4

  My fingers trailed up his torso to rub the ache in his chest that he wouldn’t admit to aloud. For several contented minutes, Link and I snuggled on the cot holding each other – two rootless misfits trying to make the best of a world gone wrong. “Did anyone explain to Annabelle that I can’t have a tea party with her because I’m holed up in here?”

  “Aye. Only we told her ye had work in the province, not tha you’re still in the palace. Annabelle’s with Aimee and Faith. They’ve been having a ball, dressing her up in all sorts of fancy gowns. They’ve been instructed to keep her with them on the first floor, so she’s safe. I told her ye were going out into the province to buy her sweets.” He turned pensive for a moment. “Little thing lit up like a lantern. Said she’d never had a sweet before.”

  I waited a few beats while I sat, tucked into Link’s side, mulling over his words. “That’s a sad song, old man.”

  “Aye, but it’s the only one tha makes sense in this world. Why do ye think I was so keen on ye getting our mark? Too many sad songs to go around.”

  I craned my head to look up at him. “I’m still not sure why you wanted me to get the mark so badly. You knew Bastien wasn’t totally committed back then.”

  “Sure, but I knew he’d get his head on right in the end, and he did, true enough. No one’s more loyal to ye now than he is. But I pushed so hard because I took a shine to ye, and so did Mad. Mad doesn’t… He’s not the cuddly type. When he opens up and talks to a woman, I take note. I have a lot less to worry about, now tha you’ve got our mark. Sure, Bastien has ye, but now Mad and I do, as well.”

  “I can’t decide if that’s sweet, or totally dysfunctional.”

  “Can’t it be both? I’m usually both.”

  I sniggered and let him move my tattooed hand to rest on his chest, savoring the comforting touch while I had it. Three days with very little contact had been rough, to say the least. “Do you think Bastien’s alright?”

  “Aye. I think now tha he knows he belongs to ye, nothing will hold him back from giving ye everything ye need, and coming home to us in one piece. He’s at his best when he’s rife with purpose. Falls apart a little without it.”

  When the door’s handle rattled, I made to open it, but Link held his arm in front of me to keep me back. He shook his head at me in warning. “Your Da’s holding court, and he has a key to this room. So does Montel. Those are the only people who know you’re in here. The staff even thinks you’re gone,” he whispered. Slowly, Link lowered his hand to his belt and slid out his short sword, doing his best to mute the metallic sound. It was freeing itself to do his bidding, readying to serve the Brotherhood. A gravelly whisper sounded from the other side of the solid door, and Link practically knocked me over with his emphatic gestures that the Sluagh was finally here for me.

  5

  Trapped and Pecked

  I’d gone from snuggly puppy time with Link, to clutching my fists on high alert as he angled his body in front of mine. He moved to the wall and felt around for a groove I’d hoped we wouldn’t have to use. My teeth were set on edge when a tiny door swung out from the wall. I peered inside the crawlspace this room had been chosen for, due to the flawless stone camouflage. “In,” Link mouthed, with no room for argument.

  “I don’t want to leave you to fight by yourself!” I pleaded, afraid for him.

  Link managed a quick smile for me and smooched my lips. “Stay in there until I come get ye. Quiet, now.”

  I obeyed, but only because I was unarmed, and wasn’t sure I’d be much help in a battle with a spirit-like magical being. I didn’t know if the traditional fighting methods would even work on the vengeful dude. I grabbed the grousing Walter and crawled into the tight space. I hugged my knees to my chest as Link shut me inside. There was about a foot of breathing room on all four sides, and a foot of space above my head, but it still felt claustrophobic. I closed my eyes, so the pitch black would be my choice.

  The shouts and the clanging of swords came not five seconds later, and it took everything inside of me to sit in my prison and not join Link in the fray. My heart pounded with the desire to defend my territory. I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere along the lines, the Untouchables had become mine, every bit as much as I’d become theirs. Every nick on Link cut me, as well. I didn’t want his body to get further broken down. I couldn’t handle yet more scars littering his skin. I shoved my fist in my mouth to keep myself from crying out when I heard him howl. He’d done enough fighting in his life; that phase was supposed to be over.

  There was a screeching sound that I hoped meant the good guys had finally won an inch. When Montel’s voice joined the fight, I was conflicted between feeling elated that we were outnumbering the enemy, and wanting Montel to run away from the danger. He was only here because of me. If I hadn’t needed babysitting, he’d be out on the wall with his dad.

  Montel’s cries were louder than Link’s, and a bit more scared. Though he was usually unruffled and plenty strong, this was an undead spirit monster. I had an unquenchable desire to somehow will Andre the Giant’s spirit into the room, for surely if my unstoppable Andre was there, Montel and Link would be safe.

  “Where?” the Sluagh breathed. When he spoke, I heard the sound of wings flapping, as if they were coming out of his mouth. There was a cry, a popping sound, and then a slurping noise that made my skin crawl. I knew the satisfied noise from the monster could only mean bad things. The Sluagh seemed to grow agitated. “Where?!”

  “Well, your friend’s going to die,” Walter guessed without much preference either way.

  “Mad’s not here,” Link bellowed, his sword lending itself to another crash. There was a thud, and then the quietness of a flutter of wings. My heart nearly stopped until I heard Link groan, and a stirring near the door I hoped was Montel. “Your fight’s with me! I’m the one who murdered the soldiers in the commune!” Link cried, his voice panicking.

  Out of nowhere, something gold slipped under the crack of the hidden door and slammed into my chest, knocking me back with a squeak. It was my lueur, hot and sizzling in my ribcage. My hands panicked and patted my torso, trying to reason out how I could have my lueur back if it was tucked safely inside of Montel.

  “Ah. I suspected that might work,” the sinister voice of the Sluagh said.

  The desperation in Link’s voice scared me. “No! Don’t go in there! It’s me ye want!”

  When the crawlspace door banged open, I shrieked as a large bird-like claw barged in and raked at my arm. Walter slipped out and bolted, not bothering to offer up even a swipe of his paw to help a girl out.

  I fought frantically in the tiny space, scrambling to get away until an unkindness of ravens flooded my tiny hideaway. Birds with rotting beaks pecked at my skin, peppering me with scratches and scrapes from head to toe, while I screamed and thrashed. I covered my eyes, but every other spot on my body was fair game for being stabbed with their beaks that felt filed to a point; they were so sharp. Blood bloomed on my arms, and my clothes now had tiny holes all over to show off the small slashes they blessed me with. “Stop!” I tried to command them, but it was clear these were no ordinary birds, but an extension of the monster they served.

  When the claw-like hand reached for me again, the Sluagh was able to pull me out with less resistance. His grip exposed me on my hands and knees as he jerked me out into the room. The ravens flew around the windowless room, circling like a black cyclone that waited to suck me up into the ceiling. I looked up and gasped at the haggard and thin bird-like features of the man in the black hooded cloak. He stood only three steps away now, taking his time to get a good look at my fear. His skin was barely hanging onto the bone, and looked leprous in some spots. He had greasy coal-colored stringy hair hanging in his face, and teeth that were chipped and yellow with rot. When his hood fell back, I screamed with all the terror of a woman facing her serial killer in a horror flick.

  “A pure soul,” he said, and again his words had the sound of flapping w
ings to them when they birthed from his pointed beak-like dry and cracked lips. His breath stank of rotting fish, churning up the desire to barf all over him. “Madigan’s bride will do nicely.”

  Link was bleeding from his shoulder as he struggled in vain to stand from the stone floor. Montel was eerily motionless in the doorway. The Sluagh chuckled, seeming to draw pleasure from my fear. I didn’t know how to fight against the magical spirit-snatcher, but I knew I’d either live or die trying to figure it out. I scrambled to my feet and grabbed Link’s abandoned sword that had fallen out of his reach. “Run, Rosie!” he bellowed. I could tell he was in a lot of pain by the pinched sound of his voice.

  I don’t know why or how, but a sudden calmness swept over me. If I would die in punishment for Madigan avenging himself and cleansing his country, then so be it. Those horrible soldiers turned a sweet boy into an unfeeling soldier. Madigan the Formidable was under my protection, as was Link the Terrifying. If something was after them, I would take up the nearest sword and make my allegiances perfectly clear.

  I inhaled slowly when I recalled that this was not the Sluagh’s adventure. He’d had his time in the sun. This was my adventure, and I wasn’t about to let him run the show.

  I raised my chin as the Sluagh watched my rolled-back shoulders and cool deportment with curiosity. “Link, I want you to take Montel and get my father out of the castle. Go now.”

  “I’ll not leave ye here, Rosie! Go! I’ll finish him!”

  The Sluagh’s cloak fell away, and it was then I realized it had never been a cloak covering him, only leathery batwings that had clothed him like a garment this entire time. His gaunt, naked body showed all of his ribs, his skin barely clinging to his pelvic bowl. Though he looked like a distorted corpse, I saw his agility was fully intact. He didn’t need muscles like we did. He had a red orb in his chest that glowed like an enlarged heart. E.T. phone home, for sure. It pumped slowly, and each beat shook the organ with such force, I could practically hear it thumping. The red swirled with a gray smoke, and in the smoke, I saw dozens of small eyeballs sweeping across the heart’s equator, begging me with fear and pain to end it all for them.

  I would not join them in there. I resolved myself that my eyes would stay perfectly intact. My food made a similar pact with my stomach, vowing I would not throw up at the ghastly sight.

  “Rosie, go!”

  I didn’t look away from the Sluagh, but made sure it knew the fight was with me. “He attacked the Brotherhood, Link. I can’t walk away from that.” Not that the monster would let me stroll out of here, but that was beside the point. I was resolved to make it my choice to stay and fight, instead of something that was being forced upon me. I kept that locked tight in my mind as I held my ground, letting it fuel me away from fear and desperation, and bring me toward a warrior’s peace. The Brotherhood didn’t run from fights; they met them head-on. If these were my people now, then this would be my battle. Link was mine, and I would protect him by whatever means necessary.

  6

  Once Upon a Midnight Dreary

  I gripped the sword, but held it down at my side, a toy in the hands of a kid – not a warrior. The red heart of my enemy drummed out a rhythm that was slow and measured, jerking my focus to the forefront. It zinged me to the part of my brain that stored rap songs and poetry assignments. I ignored Link’s pleas for me to run and took a step to the left, leading the focus away from my bleeding friend.

  My voice came out quiet as I tapped into my crazy side, using good old schoolwork to ground me, like the studious girl I was. “‘Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary.’” The words came out of me like a mantra, steadying the sword in my hand. “‘Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, while I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping.’”

  “Your spells won’t work on me, child,” the Sluagh warned with mild amusement to him.

  I didn’t care that he wanted to toy with me, to scare me a little by showing me his bird minions and uncloaking before the kill. It was clear he liked the showmanship of his grand evilness, so I refused to give him the fear he craved. Instead I met his intimidation tactics with my very best crazy, reciting poetry even as he tried to scare the “me” out of me. He didn’t count on me not freaking out, and using a little of my own madness to toy with him. Slowly, my neck started moving backward and forward, as it always did when I rapped to my heart’s content. The rhythm stayed slow to match the red pulse of my enemy; there was no need to hurry the rage that boiled in me when a threat came after someone I loved. Link was under my protection now, and that was no small thing. “‘As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. ‘Tis some visitor,’ I muttered, ‘tapping at my chamber door – only this, and nothing more.’”

  The Sluagh shrieked at my slam, and his ravens squawked angrily above him. “I’m no visitor. I’m the torture that’s going to keep you from the mercy of death.”

  “‘Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend,’ I shrieked, upstarting. ‘Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!’” I skipped ahead, hoping old Poe wouldn’t mind, my hips joining with a slow sway that gave me the edge of madness my enemy hadn’t expected me to possess. I ignored Link’s cries for me to run. Maybe I didn’t know what I was doing, but I knew who I was. I wouldn’t cower. If Morgan hadn’t broken me, then this jaggoff didn’t have a prayer. I said a silent thanks to my birth mother for taking me so near the edge of my own ending. It gave me confidence, knowing that if I’d survived her evil, then I could stand against anything.

  The ravens swirled above me, waiting on word from their master. I knew by the pissed-off look in his bulbous eyes that he’d want to finish me himself. His pride wouldn’t let his minions take the credit. The crazy ones got the fun deaths, and I looked about as bonkers as they come. He was perplexed at first at my slow rapping, but that quickly gave way to indignation that I’d stopped cowering. “I’ll make sure to leave your friend alive, so he can tell Madigan of the screams ye made when I suck the soul from ye!”

  I didn’t miss a beat, circling him as if I held the power, which I knew wasn’t true. “‘Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! Quit the bust above my door!’” I lifted my sword, but the Sluagh was too confused by my rapping to perceive the threat I would always be when told to cower. “‘Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!’”

  “Enough of your spells!” the Sluagh raged, taking a step forward to end my taunting. He took a swipe at me with his claws, but I dodged, offering him an evil smile instead of relief that I’d escaped his advance.

  I chuckled like a true sociopath, which maybe by this point, I was. Part of me was looking forward to gutting this dude. I knew that any time someone I loved was threatened, the inner psychotic in me would rise up to defend what was mine. Link was mine, and I was ready to let my inner Morgan fly free, mangling a life to save my kingdom.

  Another claw shot out at me, raking my arm and drawing blood. The deep grooves bloomed quickly with crimson, but instead of gasping, I only laughed, as if I’d wanted him to do that all along. Maybe part of me did. Now that he’d punished me for Madigan’s sins, I felt absolved as my fist gripped the sword with a purpose I couldn’t back down from. I took a chance and asked my Compass where to deliver a lethal hit. My gut practically leapt out of my body to pierce itself through the manky dude’s glowing heart. My wicked grin couldn’t be tamed.

  I’d learned through the years that I couldn’t be tamed, either.

  The Sluagh let out a screech of fury at my laughter.

  My focus lasered in on the anger radiating from him, which was now partially mixed with fear. I exhaled with a smile, knowing, as any decent soccer player knew, that if you psych out the other team, the game is in the bag.

  The ravens descended as I plunged the sword into the Sluagh’s red pulsing heart, stabbing through the eyes of the souls
he’d trapped. I let out a scream of vengeance that scared even me. I didn’t know if this was the way to go, but seeing those eyes begging to be freed of their limbo seemed like something to cross off the to-do list.

  The second the sword pierced the pulsing heart, a sonic boom echoed across the room and belted out through the castle, rattling windows and shaking the ground.

  Link cried out in shock, and I heard footsteps of the household staff coming to our rescue far too late. I pushed the sword in deeper, shrieking at the ravens who pierced me all over. Their rotting beaks looked like yellowed Swiss cheese, but I felt nothing except a spiteful victory that I’d landed a lethal hit on someone who’d come after the Brotherhood.

  Satisfied though I was with the solid hit, I didn’t stop. I pushed the sword in until the hilt slammed against the Sluagh’s brittle ribs, my nose an inch from his. His sour breath bathed my face as he cried out in anguish and surprise, no doubt shocked that little old me had used my crazy to take down the evil spirit monger. I leaned in just to satisfy my own sadism, and finished the poem with a low and breathy, “‘Quoth the Raven, ‘Nevermore.’’”

  7

  Never More. Never Again.

  “Never again. And I mean, never, ever again will I witness what I saw tonight. You were supposed to be in the saferoom!” Urien was pissed, but I was too worked up to put on a good show of being contrite.

  “That’s exactly where I was. It’s not my fault that the bad guy yanked me out of the hidey-hole and tried to kill me. Did you want me to just stand there and let him finish me off?”

  My dad had gone from yelling, to squashing me in a hug, to releasing me so Jean-Luc could treat my millions of tiny cuts. Then he repeated the pattern over and over. He didn’t allow me more than a foot of space. I’d been allowed to leave the saferoom, and was grateful to be reunited to my bedroom again. It had windows, which was a sizable step up from my previous lodging situation.