Page 20 of Red in Tooth and Claw

Acolyte Stuckley surpassed every expectation I had within the first ten minutes. He wasn’t just useless in the woods, he was a danger to both of us. Twice I’d had to keep him from grabbing on to stinging nettles. If he tried a third time, I wasn’t stopping him. Though I knew he had no interest, I attempted to tell him about the fauna, only to be snarled at. He didn’t need lecturing from an upstart country rat such as myself, so I quit trying.

From then on, I spent all my energy attempting to keep him on the deer path. He didn’t watch where he was stepping and almost broke his foot in a burrow. He needed constant breaks to “bask in our Benevolent creator’s gifts.”

Really, he was just winded and didn’t want to ask for a breather. I used the breaks to mark the path for Will—leaving piles of stones or anything that would catch his eye.

We made slow progress, and as Stuckley complained about everything from his boots to the weather—it was “too dry”—to the bugs, it was a fair wonder that my ears didn’t bleed to death.

After the first hour, I was ready to find a ravine to push him into, and I’m certain he was entertaining similar thoughts about me. Though I made no conscious decision to do so, I began to ignore him.

I didn’t even peek back to check on him. I knew exactly where he was by the sheer amount of hullabaloo he generated.

Which meant that by the time I realized something was dreadfully wrong, it was too late. Sometimes I wished I could kick my own behind for my thoughtlessness.

Stuckley grew quieter as we progressed. Quiet from a man such as Stuckley always spelled trouble. I was so grateful for the lack of noise that I didn’t question it, nearly jumping out of my skin when Stuckley grabbed my shoulder.

I yanked away from him instinctively, spinning in place.

“I want to see the map.” He stood close to me now, pale as a sheet, and sweating. His eyes were so bright, I wondered if he might be feverish. He moved erratically, as if he was watching something that I couldn’t see.

“You don’t look well, Acolyte Stuckley.”

“I didn’t ask for your impertinence, Mr.Kelly!” He snapped the words, teeth biting the air. His chin was up, shoulders back—a captain laying down a command for a lowly foot soldier.

I didn’t want to give him the map but, once again, couldn’t see a way around denying his request. Attempting to compromise, I unfolded the map so he could see it. Instinct told me to keep the map in my possession.

Stuckley growled and snapped it from my fingers. Then he stared at it for a long time. Too long. I began to wonder if he knew how to read a map. His eyes flitted over the page, like he was tracing a snake in the brush.

He licked his lips, mumbling, sweat dripping from his brow. He swiped at it absently with his shirtsleeve. “You’re taking me in the wrong direction.” His words were so soft, I had to lean in to hear them. “A trick or a trap?”

“Pardon?” I hadn’t left the marked trail, though I’d been sorely tempted. To be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure whether Stuckley was talking to me, himself, or ghosts. His pupils were big as saucers.

His face lit in exultant wonder. “A test.” Stuckley crushed the map in his hands as he suddenly clutched it to him. “I will not fail.”

Then he turned on his heel and darted into the trees.

“What test? Who’s testing you?” I shouted the words after him but got no response. Cursing, I stood there trying to decide what to do.

I will admit that, for a moment, I considered letting him go and retracing my steps. If Stuckley was bent on dying in these woods, who was I to stop him? From what I’d seen this morning, his odds were not good. Stuckley was a critter out of his habitat.

Ultimately it was the idea of coming back without Stuckley that got my feet moving. I wondered if that was HisBen’s plan all along, though I wasn’t so prideful to think that he’d throw away his fawning creature just to rid himself of me. With the toe of my boot, I drew an arrow pointing into the forest to alert the gunslinger before I took off through the trees, following the crashing sounds of Acolyte Stuckley.

I’ll give him his due—Stuckley may make as much noise as a herd of startled sheep, but he had the agility and speed of one of the deer that often dotted the plains. My hesitation had cost me. He was far ahead of me now. I had to follow him by sound and trail sign—bruised vegetation, snapped branches, and the like. Normally I wouldn’t rely on such things, as they could be from larger animals, but with the knowledge that Stuckley had gone this way, and all the ruckus, it was enough to give me some confidence.

I drew up when I hit the entrance to a boarded-up cave, or possibly a mine. I wasn’t sure. It had been long abandoned, the boards nailed to the front weathered by both time and the elements. Someone or something had been in recently—a few of the boards were broken, leaving a hole. An old mine or cave to us might be a new burrow to something else.

Pops had always said strange things lived in the hills, in the earth. I did not want to test his supposition. I especially didn’t want to do so now .

Stuckley was a coward, and I couldn’t see him plunging headfirst into an unknown cave. I spent a few precious seconds looking for signs that he’d hared off to the sides, heading deeper into the woods.

I did not find them.

Stuckley had gone into the cave. Which meant I had to follow. My pack didn’t contain a lantern, though I had a flint and steel kit for emergencies, but making a torch took time and materials.

I had neither.

I cursed myself twice the fool as I plunged into the darkness after him.

I didn’t expect my erstwhile partner to get far. The light from outside didn’t penetrate deeply into the cave, and after a few feet, I could barely see my hand in front of my face. Now that I was inside, I was leaning more toward cave than mine. The ground had been smoothed a little by erosion, but the sides were jagged against my fingers. If I wasn’t heedful, my hand would be sliced to ribbons. So I kept my touch gentle as I traced one hand alongside, being careful not to lose my connection with the wall completely.

Caves were dangerous things, and it was easy to get lost or disoriented in them. When I was deep enough that the entrance was a mere pinprick of light in the velvety darkness, I paused, straining my ears. For several heartbeats, I breathed in the musty air of the cave, smelling rot and something unpleasant, but hearing nothing beyond my own labored wheezing.

I held my breath, listening again. An odd shuffling noise drifted to me, but I couldn’t tell where it had originated. Sound went funny in caves.

“Stuckley?” My voice echoed around me, but no one responded. The shuffling continued.

I moved deeper into the cave.

I crept forward farther, refusing to leave that pinprick of light behind. When the cave turned, I paused. I had a decision to make. Continue forward in the darkness or abandon Stuckley to his fate.

I did not hanker after any more time in the Penitent Box, but as terrible as it had been, I’d survived it. I didn’t feel so confident of my chances blundering about in an abandoned cave without a whisper of light.

Stuckley was on his own.

I’d turned around, taking my first step of retreat, when light flared deeper in the cave behind me. I squinted, my eyes long adjusted to the almost complete darkness of the cavern. I blinked rapidly, a trick Pops had taught me to adjust my eyes quickly. The light in the cave flickered.

Firelight. Perhaps Stuckley had lit a torch.

I’d turned back into the cave and taken two steps before I wondered how he’d managed such a thing. He’d had no torch or lantern, either. Just his knife, canteen, and that small pouch. He didn’t even have any food. I carried our lunches on my back.

What had he found in the cave that he could light?

I sped up my steps, curiosity and a growing panic urging me forward. The cave was large enough as far as I could tell, but it held much in common with the Box. With the pit I’d fallen into as a child. With that nightmare I’d had, my hand coming back bloody and—

Fear made me sweat, causing my eyes to burn if I didn’t wipe it away. My breath came in shallow pants. If I wasn’t careful, I’d hare off in a panic before I ever found Stuckley.

When I was closer to the light, I called his name again. “Acolyte Stuckley?” Only my echo answered. “Ignatius?”

A whisper of sound then, slithering along the rocks. I wondered why he didn’t answer. Was he being bratty, or could he not answer my summons? He’d looked feverish before he ran off. Maybe he’d fallen down or collapsed into a swoon?

I was practically trotting now, my hand barely touching the wall. I wanted to find Stuckley and get out.

The cavern veered left and I followed it, pelting toward that light. It had become a symbol of freedom, a symbol of the end.

Then something grabbed me from behind and jerked me to a stop.

The telltale chill of steel bit into my throat, while another arm pinned me tight against a bony chest.

Stuckley let out a cackle of triumph. “You thought to test me. He thought to test me. But I won, didn’t I? I won .”

I had not the faintest inkling of what he was bleating about, but I knew better than to argue with a man who held a blade to my throat. “Yes,” I wheezed. “You won.”

“I can feel His light.” Stuckley crouched, whispering in my ear. “This cave. This cave is full of it.” He started babbling then, taken up in some kind of frenzy. The knife’s blade slipped down to my collarbone, his grip loose. The sharp edge pointed away from me for just a moment, an opportunity that I would exploit. I tucked my chin to my chest, then flung my head back at Stuckley’s. Pain shot through me as I connected. I’d hit him hard, but he didn’t lose his grip.

He’d turned his face away at the last minute, so I missed his nose.

“God’s light!” Stuckley cursed, flinging me away from him. I hit the cave wall, my forehead cracking against the jagged surface.

Fireworks exploded against my eyelids, their light fading into darkness.

I woke trussed up like a hog ready for slaughter. My hands and feet were bound, my skull splitting, and my face sticky with my own blood. Light from a small fire lit up the open area where I was lying, causing my headache to sharpen. Stuckley was nowhere to be seen. I used my bound hands to wipe the blood from my eyes, only to be momentarily overwhelmed once I could see clearly.

Symbols covered the cave walls, shimmery and weird. They reminded me of the drawings I’d seen scribbled on the sheets underneath Miss Honeywell’s bed. Close, but not exact. Had she been trying for these and failed, or were these symbols a corruption of the ones she had?

I didn’t know rightly how to explain it, only I had the passing thought that I’d never truly seen evil until this moment.

I struggled against my bonds, pushing at the rough weave of the rope. Stuckley’s knots were surprisingly solid. I hadn’t thought him capable of anything so competent, but then today seemed to be a day of surprises where he was concerned.

My struggling must have drawn his attention, because suddenly I saw Stuckley’s boots, inches from my face. He dropped down into a squat, peering at me. Sweat sheened his face, his eyes wild but joyous.

Ecstasy. Stuckley was communing with his god.

I’d thought I was afraid before, but that was only a shadow to the fear slicing through me now. I’d be damned twice to the quiet fields if I was going to let someone like Ignatius Stuckley make this wretched cave my tomb.

I took my fear and folded it up, tucking it away neatly into a box. It would do no good to let it run rampant. I pulled on a layer of false calm instead, steadying my heartbeat. When I felt more settled, I cleared my throat. “Acolyte Stuckley, there seems to have been a mistake.”

He grinned at me then, white teeth floating in the dim light. There were far too many teeth in that smile. Whatever gripped him, he was still in the middle of it. “There’s no mistake. Not anymore. Now everything is right.”

He shook his head, giving a good-natured chuckle as he picked up his canteen from the cave floor. “I doubted, you see? Didn’t trust in his plan. But now? Oh, now .” He sighed happily. “Now I believe.”

He twinkled down at me in the darkness. “And that’s all thanks to you.” He frowned, setting the canteen on the ground. “This won’t work. I need you upright.” He spent a few minutes wrestling me up against the cave wall, my bound hands and feet in front of me. Stuckley uncapped his canteen then, holding it to my lips.

When I didn’t oblige, he clamped his fingers onto my nose, blocking off my air. I struggled, twisting this way and that, holding my breath. In the end, it was for naught. My need for air betrayed me, and I gasped. The acolyte was ready, pouring water down my throat. A foul taste flooded my mouth, musty and rotting. I coughed, spluttering, causing Stuckley to curse.

All I’d achieved was slowing him down. He began praying, mumbling the words in a continuous flow, alternating between pinching my nose and half drowning me with his canteen. I kept gagging, spitting as much of the liquid up as I could, but some made it down my throat.

I cannot say how long this went on, only that it felt like a pocket of eternity. Finally, the canteen lay empty on the ground next to me. “Do you see now? Do you see God’s hand?” Stuckley grabbed my chin and waved his free hand at the cave walls.

Whatever Acolyte Stuckley was seeing, it was for his eyes alone. I only saw the same jagged walls, the same wretched symbols, and the dying fire.

I tried to lie anyway. “Yes,” I whispered. “I see it.”

But it did me no good. Stuckley stared at me, his gaze darting back and forth as if he was searching my face for a divine answer.

He didn’t find it.

“You don’t see!” His cry was anguished, like he was genuinely upset that I wasn’t sharing his vision. He plunged his fist into my hair, yanking it back so my face was upturned. Pain stabbed through me so violently, I almost vomited his water back up. “The book, I’ve read the book. The words whisper to me in the darkness. Old words from old gods, revealed in the light of the Shining One.”

My harsh breaths filled the air as Stuckley raved. What was in that canteen? Had he poisoned us both?

“It’s your eyes,” Stuckley said, his fierce expression gilded by firelight. “Those wretched eyes.” He searched the cave floor with one hand, the other keeping my hair in his grip. When he raised his hand up, his field knife glinted in the darkness. “I’ll fix it. You will accept His gift. You will see God’s benevolence.”

The tip of the knife edged along my skin, tracing right under the eye, though not cutting yet.

Stuckley planned on taking them. A twisted gift for his twisted faith. If I survived such a surgery, it would be a miracle.

Well, if I was going to die, I would do it fighting.

I knitted the fingers of my bound hands together and punched Stuckley in the throat.

He choked, his grip on my hair disappearing as he instinctively cradled his neck. Using the wall as leverage, I rocked forward, tackling him awkwardly to the cave floor. The knife clattered out of his hand, skipping across the ground into the shadows.

The movement sharpened the pain in my head, and Stuckley took advantage of my distraction, bucking me off. I flopped back against the cave floor, vomiting up water. I felt like someone had reached inside me and pulled all my insides out. From the sounds of it, Stuckley wasn’t faring any better.

I didn’t have much time, and if I didn’t do something soon, I truly would die in this cave.

I blinked hard, trying to clear my vision. I was staring at the jagged cave wall. The rope Stuckley had bound me in wasn’t thick—more glorified twine than anything. It wouldn’t stand up to the jagged wall, at least that was what I was hoping.

I wormed closer, then placed my bound hands against one of the juts of rock, sawing against it like a serrated blade. It was messy work, tearing into my flesh as often as the rope. I didn’t care. I went at it like a wild thing, my teeth gritted against the pain.

The rope slid free just as I heard Stuckley pushing himself up from the floor. My time had run out. I twisted onto my stomach, breathing through the sharp edges slicing through my head, and crawled in the direction of the knife.

There! On the other side of the fire. I crawled with everything I had, my palm meeting the cool wood of the handle just as Stuckley’s hand gripped my ankle.

He yanked me to him, and I didn’t fight, turning onto my back. And as Stuckley reared up over me, his face a snarl, his throat already turning purple, I did the only thing I could.

I plunged the field knife into the heart of Acolyte Stuckley, and I twisted the blade.