Page 47 of Red Demon (Oria #1)

Ruins

I clipped Istaran to my belt to hide its light as the towering trees loomed over me in judgment, their bare branches grasping. Footsteps pounded behind us. “Ash! That better be you back there!”

“They can hear you.” Faruhar breathed hard through her injuries, but kept pace beside me.

“They can track our heat signatures too. This would be a great time for that sister of yours to help out,” I said as a crossbow bolt whizzed between us.

“She’s resting.”

“Her friends can destroy whole towns!”

“Bria doesn’t kill,” Faruhar said between heaving breaths. “She’s mad enough at you without you calling her a demon.”

The footsteps behind me drew closer. The world blurred as I spun around, my blood pounding in my ears, drowning everything out except Asher, his face moonlit with fear as he chased after us.

“Slow down!” Asher wheezed, trying to catch up.

“I need better ideas than that, Ash,” I turned back around, beaming.

Time wore on. Asher’s panting breaths grew ragged.

I slowed, letting him sidle up next to me. “Give me your bag, and keep running.”

Ash slid it off, slowing for the exchange. I pulled him along once I had settled into the weight.

“Not tired?” he pushed out.

“He is. There’s poison in his sweat,” Faruhar said between gasps of air. “At least two kinds.”

That ration bar. I’d felt ill that last day in quarantine too. “I didn’t think Mahakal would go that far.”

“So confused,” Asher panted.

“Last poison dose must have been a few hours ago. I’ve been getting better,” I said.

We pushed past our exhaustion and fear. When the bolts stopped coming, we slowed to a jog. While we had the lead, she would twist to run backward in mud, throw a rock to gash into a tree down a deer path, leave subtle signs to mislead.

Finally, as the moon climbed higher in the inky sky, she led us inside a crumbling stone structure, its once tall walls half-swallowed by the forest, with no roof between us and the stars.

“I’m hoping they’ll think I have friends to ambush; wait until dawn,” Faruhar rasped between breaths. “Bria will warn us if they come closer.” She gestured to the air beside her, where I saw no one.

“Who’s Bria?” Asher asked.

“Her ghost sister. One who doesn’t kill,” I said, as if that wasn’t the extent of my knowledge on the subject. I turned to Faruhar. “That was her with the shiny lights, right? Confusing the soldiers before your attack?”

She nodded, eyes closed against the wall.

Asher frowned. “I’ll get some water from that river.”

Faruhar breathed ragged and deep, leaning against a degraded fresco, her armor stained dark red. “Far, can I help you to the water to drink?”

She blinked, listening. “Bria thinks you should fill my canteen. This was my camp last night.” She gestured toward the far wall, arm shaking.

“Sure.” I dove to find her bag hidden behind some rubble, buried in leaves.

Faruhar hesitated. “Thank you—Jesse.”

“How’d you remember?”

“Your brother said your name in battle; it clicked,” she said through lidded eyes.

I couldn’t help but smile. I dug around in her bag until I found a canteen.

Asher knelt beside the gurgling stream that snaked through the clearing. He glared at me as I washed out the canteen, drinking deep, refilling again. I moved to go back to Far, but he grabbed me by the arm.

“What the fuck, Brother,” Asher said.

“Can you be more specific? My brain’s a mess right now.”

“What the fuck seems most appropriate. That’s the fucking Red Demon back there.”

“Her name’s Faruhar.” I groaned, holding my head. “I was so wrong, Ash. She killed people in Nunbiren, but I can’t blame her. Crofton too, except maybe Mal. But I’m going to assume—”

“Who’d she kill in Nunbiren?”

I took a deep breath. “Taam, after his demon got in. Atalia, same reason. There was no virus in Nunbiren, just ghosts that made everyone kill each other. All she’s trying to do is make them stop.”

Asher looked toward the ruins, face tight.

“As far as I can tell, the empire is useless.” I gripped the tree beside me.

“There were no Chaeten rebels either. Mahakal is just helping cover up the ghost attacks, making up stories that make the empire look good. When he questioned me in quarantine, he was seeing what I knew; seeing if he could still cover it up or if he’d need to kill me and cover that up too.

I’d hoped I could buy myself enough time to tell you everything—get you out of here. ”

“Fuck,” Asher said, his fingers tight on the back of his head. “Fuck. She killed Taam?”

“Are you even listening?”

“It’s just a lot,” Asher said.

“I got more. So will she, if she remembers anything—”

“Show me the sword. Show me Istaran.” Asher gripped his knees tight.

I blinked, confused.

“Just hold it,” he said, his voice panicked.

I unsheathed the blade at my hip, and it glowed in my hands.

Asher jittered his leg, anxious. “He told me his mods block the magic. But I saw it glow when he put that to your throat. He’s lying. The ancestors just don’t trust him. They still trust you.”

“Why not let me kill him for that alone?”

Asher shook his head, dropping back on his knees beside the stream. “I never liked the guy. Just convinced myself we needed a demon to take out demons.” He shivered. “I don’t really want to work with any of them, Jesse.” He gestured back to the ruins.

“Faruhar saved my ass three times now,” I said. “Havoc tried to kill me, by the way. Your dahn was right. It should be right about her too.”

He shook his head at me and sighed. “She confuses the fuck out of my dahn, to be honest.” The moonlight cast shadows on his features.

“It’s like … seeing two people with one face.

For a moment or two, what you’re telling me makes sense.

She doesn’t want to hurt you. Otherwise it’s like—visual static, and not good. Hurts to look too close.”

“Voids, really?” I looked back at the ruins. “I owe her a life, a couple to spare.” She had so much blood on her armor, that shallow breathing. I got up to go, canteen in hand.

“She probably took twenty lives to buy yours,” Asher called after me. “Good men and women, with families that love them!”

Faruhar sat propped up against the crumbling wall, her blood blending into hints of red fresco; a sewing kit lay on her lap. Her armor lay discarded beside her, with a wide crimson stain blooming down the side of her torn linen shirt.

I knelt beside her, and she took the canteen in shaking hands, her lips pale.

“Hold still. I’ll take a look,” I murmured as I pulled the wet fabric aside. The wound cut deep; a jagged gash of flesh. No signs of healing.

“Couldn’t see to sew it up,” she said, voice hoarse.

“I got you.” I settled in. She poured a little water from her canteen over the wound, then drank again.

Asher’s footsteps rustled behind me. He paused, taking in the scene. “I got a lighter to heat that needle.” He dug around in his cargo pants. “Then I’ll check the woods for some plantain.” Between practice and the forge, this was not the first time we’d mended flesh.

I nodded my thanks to him as the needle glowed red in the flame. I looked back to see the fire reflected in Faruhar’s lidded, exhausted gaze. A shiver wracked her body, tremoring the arm I held steady. I flicked the needle cool as Asher left.

“What were you doing with those soldiers?” she asked, voice cold.

“Finding my brother, like I told you. It took me a while to figure out who Mahakal really is.” Pain twinged my chest. “I’m not smart. I don’t know if you remember, but that’s one of the first things you ever said to me.”

She gave me a weak smile. I threaded the needle.

“You ready?” I held the needlepoint to her cool skin.

A raspy laugh escaped her lips. “I can block pain. Just keep the blood in.”

I got to work. I’d never stitched up a wound this deep. It wasn’t properly cleaned, but I’d hoped Faruhar’s enhanced healing abilities would make up the difference. “Why were you there, Faruhar? Did you follow me?”

She grimaced, a flicker of defiance crossing her features. “I was following a lead.”

“A lead?” I pulled the string taut.

“A rumor from the other ghosts, a risk, but good enough for me, even if Bria didn’t want me to try. She doesn’t like it when I get close to Mahakal.” Faruhar’s voice raked the frigid air. “Then I saw you and I couldn’t just go. You looked so afraid. I thought—”

“You thought you could take on two military squads on your own?” I finished for her, a mix of exasperation and something deeper twisting in my gut. “You almost died.”

“You sound just like Bria,” she murmured, with a hint of a smile between pursed lips. “She thanks you for that one.”

“Hi Bria,” I said to the open air. “Sorry I tried to kill your sister. Truce?”

Faruhar just sighed.

“How’d you get to that tree without anyone seeing you?”

She huffed. “I was in that tree before Mahakal showed up. When they did, well, no one ever looks straight up in the forest as much as you’d think,” she explained, her voice growing fainter.

“My brother Iden taught me the same thing.” I smiled, then remembered she’d killed him. “You could have waited until it was safe, until we cleared out.”

“Mahakal—” Her eyes fluttered closed, her head lolling against the stone.

Panic surged through me. “Far? Stay awake for me.” I fumbled for her canteen, forcing a few sips of water past her parched lips and checking her pulse. Faint.

A crackle of leaves announced Asher’s return to the ruins. His face grim, he clutched a handful of round, green leaves. “Got the plantain,” he said, jaw locked as he looked at Faruhar. “Voids, will that make a difference?”

“Ash, help me,” I begged.

I set to work on the gash on Faruhar’s leg while Asher knelt beside me, bruising and crushing the leaves before applying them under her arm. I awaited each rasp of her lungs.

“Far, what else do you need to heal?” I’d just finished the last stitch on her leg.

Little warmth lingered beneath my fingertips. She didn’t answer.

“Far? How do I heal you?” I repeated, urgent.

She opened fluttering, unfocused eyes. “I need to make blood,” she whispered. “Water. Meat. Time.”

“Okay.” I held the canteen to her lips for her to drain.

When she was done, I went for the jerky I saw in her bag.

Asher stiffened when he saw it. He’d just as soon eat a person. To his credit, he kept his mouth shut, offering to fill the water bottle as I cut the strips into thinner slices to make them easier to chew. She was barely breathing.

“I’m going to gather some wood for a fire,” Asher said when he came back. “We’ll hide it in the morning.”

I nodded, analyzing every movement as she insisted on feeding herself with a trembling hand, even as her eyes kept drifting closed.

Faruhar coughed, a weak sound. “Thank you.” Her eyes drooped closed again.

Asher lit the fire inside our corner of the ruin.

The night deepened as the flame brought a fresco to life on the nearest wall: a herd of hoofed beasts I didn’t recognize.

Asher turned his back to us both on the other side of the fire, lying down to sleep.

I sat beside Faruhar, watching her violent shivers until I couldn’t stay silent anymore.

“You’re too cold from that blood loss,” I murmured.

Her eyelids fluttered open, a sliver of defiance still clinging to their depths. “Survived worse,” she said, her raspy voice barely audible. But her defiance flickered and died, replaced by a glimmer of vulnerability as she closed her eyes again.

My heart hammered against my ribs. “Do you want me to…” I hesitated, the question felt heavy on my tongue. “Can I keep you warm?”

That vulnerability in her eyes deepened. Fear, maybe.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind,” I whispered, the words leaving my lips before I could stop them.

She nodded with a sigh.

Without another word, I eased my body into the leaves, spooning my chest to her back, offering what little warmth I could. She was so cold, more than I thought possible for anyone.

“You said I deserved to die. I wrote that down,” she whispered.

“I was wrong.” An unwonted spark ignited in my chest. “Bria, wherever you are, make sure she crosses that one out.”

“I’ve written that down before,” she said, with a shiver that wracked us both.

I began to hum my mother’s lullaby, the one Faruhar sang when I recovered in the cave. Her breathing, shallow and uneven, began to stabilize and lengthen. Her heartbeats fell in step with mine as our song became our breathing, and then the sounds of morning birds.