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DARYNA
Daryna stared in disbelief at this skeletal liar. What he’d just spoken of could not possibly be. Roka was the king of Torlarah. Maryska was his queen. Daryna should have been his queen. Daryna’s real name was Kezia. All false.
Daryna had felt it in her blood that Maryska was from Torlarah, but she never expected the bitch to be the ruler—or her sister.
False.
And yet, her body twitched with nervousness as she lifted her gaze from Roka to everyone in the room, studying her, waiting for her to speak. She didn’t want attention like that drawn to her.
Daryna flushed crimson, whether from embarrassment or anger, she couldn’t tell because she felt them both. She stepped forward, pointing the tip of her sword at Roka. “I don’t know what kind of lies you are spouting, but it isn’t true. I’m not her.”
She wanted to believe it wasn’t true, because the story was something she couldn’t recall. Her instinct was to split him in two and flee to the safety of her home, away from all the prying eyes.
“It is true, Kezia, you have a birthmark on the left side of your lower back,” Roka said, “and a scar above your belly button.”
“How do you know that? And don’t call me that!” she growled. But she did have those things, and no one should have known it but her and her alone.
“Because I love you.” His voice was gentle.
Love? What did the little bastard know about that? His tale was horrendous.
“If the story you say is true,” she continued, “then you’re as good as dead to me, seeing as you couldn’t tell me apart from Maryska.” Daryna paused as though she’d been struck with a blade. The gap in her memory. “She’s the reason I can’t remember, isn’t she?” She took a step closer to Roka, the sword wavering in her hand. “Did I have a missing leg before?”
“What? No,” Roka sputtered. “I do not understand why you would ask that.”
“Then let me tell you a story, Roka.” She rolled up the leg of her trousers to reveal her wooden leg. “One eventful day, I woke up in an unfamiliar village with a bloody stump where my leg had been cut clean off, and not remembering anything of my past. The. End. So if this is all true, then thank you for being the cause of all this, for making Maryska your glorious queen and resulting in the deaths of Anton and Nahli.”
Several sharp inhales took place, but she ignored them.
“If it weren’t for you, I would never have lost my memory. I could have been back in a caravan playing a tambourine and never would have had to live in Kedaf, you bastard.” She whisper-shouted the last two words because if she said them any louder, tears would have streamed down her cheeks. And she didn’t want to cry in front of anyone.
It had been years since the last time Daryna cried, and once her tears had dried, she’d decided to let her heart harden. And that was how it had always been.
She thought about the tambourine girls playing at the market and how something inside her had yearned to place her hands against one of the instruments. If this was true, in her past, it sounded as though she could have loved it.
With a caring touch, Pav moved Daryna backward and said, “How about you put that anger to better use, like toward Maryska?”
Somehow this young boy, who’d annoyed her to no end, had become the smartest person in Torlarah.
She studied Nahli’s and Anton’s skeletal features, wondering if she could do something to bring them back to Kedaf. A part of her came forth, believing Roka had meant no harm, then the angry part of her chased it away. She had to hold herself back from kicking him.
Daryna and Pav had found Anton. Now, she needed to follow Pav’s direction and focus on Maryska. “We’re leaving.” She turned on her heel, tugging Pav with her, and prepared to storm off.
“On to the Lake of Flesh then?” Nahli asked.
What a stupid name for a lake, Daryna thought.
“Yes, please, we’ve been here too long,” Anton said.
Daryna was in full agreement.
“If you remember, Roka, show us the way,” Nahli said.
Roka didn’t say a single word as he skirted around Pav’s leg. Daryna understood that Roka hadn’t recalled his past events either, but he could recall them now. She wouldn’t feel sorry for him remembering, when she still couldn’t.
As they moved forward, Nahli had calmed for the time being, explaining to Daryna and Pav other things that had happened. The world around Daryna was causing her to feel heightened emotions, and one was more empathy for Nahli.
Daryna had helped with Pav’s goal of finding Anton. Now about the flesh lake, she was finding herself curious as to how it would work. Would they just step into it? If it could get them clean, she may join them just to wash off the filth covering her.
To her left, the sludge swished like water, causing a slurping sound to bounce off the walls and autumn trees. Roka led them farther through more fall trees that turned into white and bluish ice, along with a thin layer of snow spread across the ground. Her fingertips brushed the frost on one of the trunks, and Daryna couldn’t feel any coolness from it. No one else was shivering, so they must not have been cold either.
Up and down the length of the trees, something glowing appeared. Eyes. The trees were filled with them, from roots all the way up to branches. She didn’t even flinch, but everything was too close to her.
Pav wrapped an arm around Daryna’s shoulders, and she didn’t have the strength to shove it off. “If it makes you feel better, when we make it back to Kedaf, I’ll ask Tasha to return Juju.”
What a ridiculous name for the hen. That chicken was half the reason she was here, and she didn’t want to see it ever again. If she did, it would be headless.
“That chicken has done nothing but cause me problems. Your sister can keep her.” She also wouldn’t want to take something away from a child.
“I knew you had a heart, Daryna.” Pav smirked, patting her back as he removed his hand from her shoulder.
As the group walked farther, the trees thinned out until there were none, and a narrow hallway appeared. It was so thin that Daryna didn’t think she would be able to pass through it. Although, the pair of skeletons would be able to squeeze right in with no problem.
“We are almost there,” Roka said.
The closer she got, the more she shouldn’t have been aghast. Moisture slicked the walls where faces were embedded, their stone eyes shifting from side to side.
“Not as terrible as the headless men and women,” Pav said, holding out his arm. “Ladies first.”
Rolling her eyes, Daryna squeezed her body between the open space and even though she could fit, panic swelled in her chest. She stepped back out, breathing hard. “I can’t.”
Roka must have heard her speak and somehow slithered his way past Anton and Nahli, until he was by her side. “It is all right, Kez. Close your eyes and I will be beside you, guiding your every step. It will not take long.” His head lowered a fraction in defeat. “I would hold your hand and whirl you past this, if only I had my crown.”
For a moment, only a minuscule one, she wondered what he looked like as a man. Had she really been attracted to him? For now, she would believe it untrue. Then she pushed that thought away, changing her focus to Maryska.
“I’ll hold your hand if you want,” Pav said.
No, that would only cause sweat and that would make her panic more. “I can’t, but can you ... hold onto the sleeve of my shirt?”
She loathed asking him for anything, but the thought of everything pressing in on her would be too much. Why did she have so many weaknesses? She could hurt people who deserved it—like Boda—but she couldn’t walk through a tight area. Pathetic.
Pav clasped the tunic by her bicep. “Just tell me when you want me to let go.”
Shutting her eyes, Daryna felt a small hand grab onto her trousers, but she didn’t shove it away as she sucked air in, wiggled, and shuffled through the narrow space. The stone rubbed her breasts, belly, and backside as she pressed forward, and she knew the faces inside the wall watched every step she took.
Her stomach churned and she wanted to expel everything from it. Instead, she took a deep breath and pushed herself with the help of a boy she’d only met a few days ago and a meerkat who was really a man claiming to love her.
“You can open your eyes now,” Roka murmured.
Not yet. Not until she felt herself being drawn out from the tight space did she open her eyes. As her sight adjusted to the light, Daryna should have felt accomplished, worthy, and capable of overcoming her fear, but she didn’t.
When this is all over, I will go back to my cottage, stay inside, and never come out again.
