Page 41 of The Devils

What You Can’t Change

The door gave at one kick and shuddered open on wheezing hinges.

Sunny couldn’t help a miserable whimper as Alex dragged her arm over her shoulders and half-lifted her, so they lurched over the dripping threshold together like some fatally wounded four-legged beast melodramatically creeping into a hole to die.

‘Told you,’ muttered Alex, glancing about, ‘no one here.’

‘Surprising,’ hissed Sunny, ‘when it’s so nice.’

A ramshackle barn, or slaughterhouse, or stables by the smell, long abandoned. The back wall was stone, the crumbling carcass of some older building, the rest botched together from warped boards. Strings of ancient cobweb fluttered in the chilly draught. Rain spattered in through holes in the roof.

‘I’ve stayed in worse.’ Alex lurched towards the driest corner and started lowering Sunny towards the dirty straw.

‘Careful,’ grunted Sunny through her clenched teeth.

‘I’m being careful,’ growled Alex, trembling with the effort.

‘Careful!’ grunted Sunny.

‘I’m being careful!’ snarled Alex, then lost her balance and they flopped down together.

Sunny lay for a moment, on the prickly straw, in the fusty dark, trying to breathe shallow, nose all wrinkled as she waited for the pain, but after a moment she actually felt better. Alex was on top of her, on hands and knees. She smelled of sweat and fear and the smoke of the burning town, the name of which they still didn’t know and likely never would.

‘We shouldn’t stay …’ whispered Sunny, ‘too long.’ She never used a lot of words but right now each one was hard labour. ‘They’ll guess … we were on the river.’

Alex pushed herself up to her knees. ‘Unless they all got killed in that town.’

‘Really think our luck’s that good?’

‘On past performance, no. How’re your ribs?’

‘Fine,’ whispered Sunny. ‘If I don’t breathe.’

‘Maybe I should look?’

‘Why? Do you have healing eyes?’

Alex fluttered her lashes. ‘Maybe a little.’

Sunny slowly pulled her shirt up. She was used to being a sideshow curiosity, but it still felt strange, having Alex shuffle closer. Touch her ribs, ever so gently, wincing in sympathy, just one fingertip, so light and tickly it made Sunny shiver.

People didn’t touch her often. Not gently, anyway.

‘Well?’ she muttered.

‘Well, I’m glad they’re not my ribs. Should we … I don’t know … bandage them?’

‘How will that help?’

‘I can’t do nothing.’

‘Nothing is the easiest thing to do.’ Sunny settled back against the straw, and tugged her shirt down, and lay very still. ‘You head on. Leave me here. I’ll be all right.’

Alex snorted. ‘Fuck yourself. We’ve got no food or water, and we’re being hunted, and you’re no complainer, so when you say “ow,” I reckon you mean it.’

‘So I won’t be all right. Leave me here anyway. You have to get to Troy.’

‘I don’t give a shit about Troy. I’ve never even been there.’

‘I hear it’s nice. You should go.’

‘Very funny. You’ve saved me how many times?’

Sunny couldn’t help a little groan as she shifted. ‘A few.’

‘A lot. And you don’t even make a big thing of it, which is even worse than if you did.’

‘Tragic dignity comes naturally to me.’

‘And I don’t get to try it? When it looks so good on you?’

‘How do you plan to get us both out of this?’

Alex clambered up, rubbing at her jaw, and said nothing.

Sunny had almost been hoping she’d have a plan. But finding out she hadn’t was no surprise. ‘I thought so. You should go.’

‘The farm we passed,’ said Alex. ‘They had a stable. Maybe they had a horse.’

‘You’re not going back. You might get caught.’

‘You wanted a plan, there’s my plan.’

‘I didn’t want a shit plan. You can’t steal a horse.’

‘You’re skinny but I can’t carry you far.’

‘’Cause we need an angry farmer after us.’

‘On top of two dozen hired killers and a werewolf I doubt the farmer will make much difference.’

‘I can’t let you do it.’

‘How will you stop me?’

‘I’ll think …’ Sunny bared her teeth as she tried to get up. ‘Of something …’

Alex put a hand on her shoulder. ‘No need.’ Not exactly pushing her back but stopping her from getting up. ‘You can trust me.’

Sunny looked up at her. ‘I trust you,’ she said.

Then Alex leaned in and kissed her.

Not a forceful kiss all tongues and teeth. Not some accidental brushing of the lips. Decided and patient and leaving no doubt at all what it was. She caught Sunny’s top lip between hers, sucking at it ever so slightly, then her bottom lip with the faintest flapping sound, then the top again, and maybe actually there was a little bit of tongue on the end of that one, and Sunny was just about to kiss her back when Alex pulled away.

Sunny stared at her, whole face tingling. Alex’s eyes flickered open, and she stared back. There were only a few inches of darkness between them. Silence, except for the hinge of the door creaking with the wind. The muscles fluttered in Alex’s throat as she swallowed.

‘Oh,’ said Sunny, slightly hoarse.

Alex jerked back. Like Sunny had been the one kissed her, which seemed somewhat of a rewriting of history, and very recent history at that. She stood up, and concentrated on slapping straw from her knees, as though the most important thing in all this was clean knees.

‘You stay here,’ she said, turning towards the door. ‘I won’t be long.’

‘Can’t move.’ Sunny wondered whether wriggling for a more comfortable position would be worth the pain, and decided against it. She didn’t panic. Panicking never helped.

She actually did trust Alex. At least to try and help her.

Whether she’d succeed was another question.

Sunny dreamed of kissing someone, pleasantly tingly in the deep, deep woods. Singing, and laughter, and the leaves fluttering in a yellow shower onto a bed of moss, so soft, and the shafts of emerald light through the high branches, the forest floor so far below it felt like being queen of an underwater kingdom.

Then she thought to herself, on the edge of waking – woods? What an embarrassing thing for an elf to dream about. What a cliché. Then a thumping and scraping intruded like the sound of riders and with a start she sat up and felt an awful flash of pain like she’d been kicked afresh and dropped back groaning.

Shafts of dirty grey came through the gaps between the boards leaving stripes across the straw, and by a smear of daylight the place looked even filthier.

Morning.

So Alex had stolen off in the night and abandoned her. Sunny had told her to, but she’d been sort of hoping she might decide against it. More fool her, of course.

When someone tells you they’re a liar you’d better believe them.

The door wobbled open. Sunny tried to hold her breath but the pain through her side was so bad she just curled up, clutching at her ribs as if she had to hold herself together or blow apart, no choice but to lie there and take whatever came.

Not for the first time, sad to say.

‘In, you big bastard. Get in .’ Alex’s voice. And Sunny saw a black-and-white-patched shaggy horse being led into the warehouse while Alex tugged at its bridle.

So she wasn’t abandoned after all, and she felt a giddy wash of relief and surprise pleasantly mingled.

‘You got a horse,’ she said.

Alex looked around, still tugging at the reluctant beast. ‘You sound surprised.’

‘Little bit.’

‘Told you I used to be a thief, didn’t I?’

‘Thought you’d changed.’

‘I have.’ Alex finally got the horse through the doors and looked proudly up at it. ‘Now I’m a horse thief.’ And she patted its neck, and it dipped its head and gave a nicker. ‘He’ll be way happier with us.’

‘Why would he be happier with us?’ asked Sunny. ‘We’re a fucking disaster.’

‘That’s just it. We need him. With that farmer he can pull a plough. With us he can be a hero .’ And she looped the horse’s bridle around a rail and stepped over to Sunny. ‘That’s the story I’m telling myself.’

‘Guess I’ve heard worse lies …’ muttered Sunny, but it turned into a spitty grunt as she tried to sit up.

Alex caught her under the arms, almost a hug, lifted her till she could lean on the rotten side of the stall. ‘Can you stand?’

‘No problem.’ Sunny tried to catch her breath. Without breathing too deep. Or too shallow. ‘If you can hold me up.’

Alex looked her in the eye. Not smiling. Not frowning. ‘For as long as you need,’ she said, and she started to help Sunny towards the horse.

‘Well, ain’t this nice?’

Two men stood in the doorway. One was a hulking big bastard, the other smaller but still likely twice Sunny’s weight, entirely bald down to his hairless eyebrows.

‘Oh fuck,’ said Alex.

Sunny felt more tired than anything, and wondered whether she should lie down again. She tried her best to be nice, but the world still took every opportunity to kick the shit out of her.

‘Is that one even human?’ asked the bald man, peering at her.

‘It’s an elf,’ said the big bastard.

‘Which makes her the cousin,’ said a woman with a broken nose, stepping into the barn after the other two and pointing a thick finger at Alex. ‘Sabbas’ll be pleased.’

So they were outmatched three to two in numbers, about five to one in weight, and about thirty to one in weapons, since these newcomers looked like they’d packed for war with Burgundy.

Sunny eased back, gripping her ribs, and Alex eased back, too, putting herself between Sunny and the three killers, who were all easing forwards, ever so slowly, like this was a dance with no music and a bad ending.

‘So much for the magic nose, eh?’ said the big man. ‘Can’t wait to see the Dane’s face when we tell him we found her first.’

‘You can tell him,’ said the woman. ‘Bloody Dane gives me the willies.’

‘Who’d you hate worst?’ mused the bald one, still easing forwards. ‘The Dane, the twins, or the Man-Catcher?’

‘I can hate ’em all equally, can’t I?’ said the woman. ‘Not like I’ll run out o’ hate.’

Sunny tried to take a breath and hold it, but the stab of pain near made her faint and she had to let it out in an agonised wheeze. For years she’d been desperate for someone to see her. Now she actually wanted to disappear she couldn’t manage it.

Alex had her right hand down near Sunny, behind her back, and she tweaked up the filthy hem of her crimson jacket and eased the dagger from her belt.

‘Careful,’ said the woman. ‘Reckon she’s got a blade.’

‘So?’ said the bald man, ‘I’ve got loads.’ And he slid one of his own out, twice the length of Alex’s, worn to a cruel, thin crescent by years of sharpening.

‘Sabbas won’t want her all cut up,’ said the big man.

‘How about a bit cut up?’

‘That he could probably live with.’

Sunny took another step back and her shoulders hit the wall. Out of room. And now someone else was slipping through the door. Their odds getting even worse … except … a chink of light slid across the newcomer’s face, showed tangled black hair, then a slice of pale cheek, then tattooed writing down it. Sunny had to stop herself grinning.

Werewolves are a real curse. Right up until they’re the very thing you need.

‘Best toss the knife, eh?’ The big bastard planted his hands on his hips, blissfully unaware of what was creeping up behind him. ‘Honestly, I’m running short o’ patience. You two have led us quite the merry dance.’

‘That shit in town was painful,’ said the bald man, no idea how painful things were about to get. ‘Fucking Dane went wolf-crazy. I nearly got arrow-stuck. Whose idea was that?’

Sunny pointed to Alex. ‘Her idea.’ All that mattered was to hold these two idiots’ attention a little longer. Vigga’s hands flashed around the woman from behind. One across her chest, pinning her arms, one across her shoulders, tattooed fingers locking about her throat. The woman’s mouth yawned like she was screaming but no sound came. She twisted and wriggled but she was held tight as a wasp in honey, boots off the ground, kicking silently.

‘But it was me poisoned your stew,’ said Sunny.

‘I shat water for three days!’ The big man pulled a barbed hatchet from his belt. ‘Maybe Sabbas will have to get you in pieces.’

‘Now wait!’ Alex waved her open palm at the two men, making sure their eyes didn’t leave her as Vigga squeezed tighter and tighter, streaks of blood running down her forearm and dripping from her elbow. ‘We can strike a bargain!’

The bald one chuckled. ‘With what?’

‘ Jewels. ’ Alex had this way of saying the word, stretching the oooo the way a priest might a saint’s name, the answer to everyone’s prayers. ‘I got ’em buried.’

Doubt and greed battled on those two ugly faces while, right behind them, the woman’s eyes rolled up and her kicks became twitches.

‘Don’t tell ’em about the jewels!’ hissed Sunny, since folk always want to know what they’ve been told they shouldn’t know.

That seemed to win a provisional victory for greed. The big one licked his lips. ‘You got jewels?’

‘I’m a princess, aren’t I?’ said Alex, lifting her chin in a princess-y sort of way as Vigga lowered the woman’s corpse to the straw, ever so gently, like a mother lowering a shallow-sleeping baby into its cot. ‘I’ve got loads .’

‘Where?’ asked the bald one as Vigga slid a dagger from the dead woman’s belt and crept forwards.

‘Close.’ Alex started to grin. ‘ Very close.’

‘Where?’ asked the big one, eyes all shiny with greed.

Alex leaned towards him, like they were all in on the same lovely little secret. ‘Up your fucking arse.’

Which was when Vigga rammed that dagger into the top of the bald man’s pate, stoving his skull right in with a wet crunch, popping one of his eyes out and sending blood spraying all over the big man’s cheek.

He spun around as the corpse crumpled bonelessly at his feet. Vigga looked back at him, brows curiously raised, like she’d asked a testing question and was keen to have his answer.

The colour drained from his face. ‘Another Dane-Wolf …’

Vigga showed her pointed teeth. ‘I’m a Swede .’

The man swung his axe. With a smack Vigga caught his wrist, drove the heel of her hand into his forearm, and snapped it in half, like it had a second elbow. The axe tumbled from the man’s limp fingers and he gave a roar of pain and rage, pulling a curved dagger with his good hand.

With another smack Vigga caught that arm, too, and broke it even worse, a shard of bone tearing through hairy skin and flicking blood around. He sank wailing to his knees, knife clattering down next to his axe.

Vigga leaned over him. ‘You going to kick me now? Kick me, I fucking dare you.’ She turned and yelled, ‘We’re ready!’

A man burst through the door brandishing a large branch, still with a few leaves on it. Took Sunny a moment to recognise him without his habit – sinewy, wild, and unshaved.

‘You’re alive!’ said Alex, starting to smile.

Brother Diaz stared at the two corpses. ‘It seems the Almighty may yet have some use for us.’

Sometimes it’s not till the danger’s gone that you fall apart. Sunny felt her knees tremble, and her eyelids flicker, and a moment later she was slumped on her knees with someone patting her face and saying, ‘You all right? You all right?’

Vigga grabbed the last killer by the throat and gave him a furious shake. ‘Did you fucking hurt her?’ He moaned and squeaked, broken arms flopping hopelessly. ‘I’ll rip you in two from your arsehole up!’

‘Horse kicked me,’ muttered Sunny. Her head felt all light.

‘Horse?’ Vigga rounded on the horse Alex had stolen. ‘This fucker?’

‘No, no!’ said Alex. ‘Different horse.’

‘It better hope I don’t get hold of it!’

‘Calm, Vigga,’ Brother Diaz was saying. ‘Calm!’

‘I can be useful!’ squeaked the big man, who in Sunny’s opinion was learning a strong lesson. However terrible you are there’s always someone worse, and the more you throw your weight around the quicker they’ll end up breaking both your arms. ‘I can tell you what Sabbas is planning!’

‘Duke Sabbas?’ asked Brother Diaz. ‘Empress Eudoxia’s second son? He’s here?’

‘Chased us halfway across the Balkans,’ muttered Sunny through gritted teeth as she slumped back onto one elbow.

‘He’s on his way!’ whimpered the big man, ‘with his sorcerers, and his Dane-Wolf – argh!’

‘Vigga, please!’ The monk struggled to prise Vigga away from the big man and only succeeded in being hauled around with him.

‘I can help!’ whimpered the man. ‘I can take Sabbas a message!’

‘He’s right!’ said Brother Diaz, finally wrenching Vigga’s fist from the man’s now thoroughly ripped jacket. ‘I order you to let him go!’

‘He is right,’ grunted Vigga. ‘I’ll give you that.’

Alex puffed out her cheeks, leaning on her knees, and Brother Diaz exhaled a long sigh, and slowly let go of Vigga, and the man with the two broken arms did his best to grin at her, which was quite impressive given the pain he must’ve been in.

Then Vigga punched him so hard her fist drove his nose right into his head, flung him against the wall so he bounced off, rolled flopping across the dirty straw, spat a sort of bloody gurgle, and was still.

Vigga sniffed. ‘That’ll send quite the message.’

Brother Diaz stared at the corpse. ‘I told you not to hurt him!’

‘You told me to let him go. I let him go.’

Sunny lay back in the straw and closed her eyes.

Why worry about what you can’t change, after all?