We wait until the sun is completely down before departing, given how the sun doesn’t agree with vampires. I equate it to standing under those warming lamps used at grocery stores to keep the fried chicken hot all day. Is there a point at which the heat vaporizes us? Don’t know. Don’t care. Don’t plan to be a vampire long enough to find out.
We march in a formation a half-mile long and one hundred yards wide, with me somewhere in the middle.
I feel like a football that everyone’s trying to get to the goal line, General Rool especially. He insisted on bringing a hundred men of his own, and I know it’s because he doesn’t trust the War People. Alwar wasn’t much better, ordering everyone in his party, a hundred giants, to accompany us.
Honestly, this is overkill, which makes me wonder if their numbers have to do with something other than mutual distrust. Is there something they’re not telling me? I wouldn’t be surprised. Even I’m keeping secrets, like Mato believing Alwar is going to die soon and wanting to marry me. Gabrio is gunning for me, too. Then there’s my own personal agenda: free humans from the threat once and for all, no matter the cost. We all have our secrets.
The procession follows Rool and his men while the giants fan out to my sides and flank us. I can practically taste the anxiety in the air, the vampires and giants—both women and men—ready to attack the smallest threat. The moonlight is so bright tonight everything is bathed in eerie red tones, including the intense expressions of the giants.
“What’s everyone so worried about?” I ask Alwar, who marches at my side, crunching branches and brush with his large feet. All around me, the ground thunders and quakes, announcing to anything in our path that the War People are coming. Other than that, the forest is quiet.
Alwar glances down at me, bending low to duck under a tree branch. “Sonofabitch is going this way simply to annoy me. There is a much easier path on the other side of those hills.” He points to a small swell in the ground with a rock formation that seems to be moving. Are those Mato’s pet rocks?
I blink and they’re gone. Strange. I feel like we’re being watched.
Alwar suddenly hops, stepping over a series of boulders. I maneuver between them. I’ve noticed that when the War People travel, which is always on foot, they stick to wide-open spaces. Maybe because it allows them to see anyone attempting an ambush. They do have the advantage of height.
“I’m sure Rool’s just going the way he’s used to,” I say. “Are you going to answer my question?” Everyone’s on edge. Why?
“I do not know what concerns Rool has,” grumbles Alwar, “but I for one have heard nothing of threats, nothing of discontent among the various kingdoms over the change of leadership.”
“So there’s nothing to worry about?”
“Wrong,” he replies. “This is Monsterland. We do not live peacefully.”
“So if you’re not hearing rumbles of impending backstabbings or uprisings—”
“It signifies something is brewing.”
Crap. “What do you think this something is?”
“Anything is possible, but if I had to guess, Benicio’s death has become an opportunity to forge new alliances with those who have common interests. It is why the inaugural address is so critical. You must set the tone—any challenges to your throne will not be tolerated. They must fear your power, or the wall will fall.”
This is exactly what I was afraid of. There’ll always be creatures and kingdoms interested in tearing down the wall. They believe the weak are for eating. Humans especially.
“Alwar, how were the bridges made?” I ask.
“I do not know.”
“But they couldn’t have been there since the beginning of time.”
“The stories say that before the wall was built, there were only a handful of creatures who knew about the doorways and crossed over freely to hunt. Then one day, word got out, and your world was overrun. Humans started fighting back and pushed them out. Any creatures that remained were killed.”
I still wonder how humans managed to expel the monsters. Tiago once told me it was the fact that people refused to give up. As a species, our tenacity defines us. True. Humans haven’t survived this long because we complied our way to survival. It’s why dictators, tyrants, oppressive governments, and anyone who tries to take away our freedoms don’t last. Eventually, we rise up. Still, I can’t see how tenacity was enough to eradicate all monster life from my world. Especially considering this event supposedly happened thousands of years ago. What weapons did they use?
Alwar continues, “The Scholar People’s records say that humans attempted to seal the doorway with rocks and mud—a primitive form of plaster. It did not work, so they built a great fire to prevent any creatures from coming through. Then, one day, another doorway opened, then another. Humans kept building fires to make the doorways impassable. Over time, the smoke blocked our skies and turned them red.”
“The entire planet? You’d have to chop down every tree in Pennsylvania to make that much smoke.” Then you’d need to keep finding more wood. Sounds a little farfetched, but then again, these are old stories.
“The smoke was only part of the issue. The sparks from the bonfires would float high in our atmosphere and drop. We were plagued with forest and brush fires. Then our sea ignited. The creatures who once lived there were very gaseous.”
An ocean filled with farts. How lovely. Must be why Monsterland still smells like sulfur.
He goes on, “It was called the Age of Fire. It lasted thousands of years. They say it became so hot that it stopped raining. Only the plants and trees that could absorb moisture from the air survived and flourished. Same for the creatures.”
So it was the humans who caused Monsterland to look like this. No wonder they want to eat us.
“Do you think maybe this is the real reason the War People agreed to help with the wall? To stop the humans from making all those fires?”
“No. The wall was an opportunity for my people to live more securely. The War People were constantly fending off attacks from other kingdoms. Our meat and blood is prized by many.”
I can attest to that. Giants. Hmmm…tasty. “Well, it’s pretty crappy that your world was trashed.”
“Humans did what they needed to survive and keep the monsters out. I do not blame them for wishing to defend themselves.”
“I’m just saying that it would have been better for everyone if they’d found another way to survive and live in peace.”
“The kingdoms here do not want peace.”
Exactly my problem. I don’t want to tip my hand, so I think carefully before posing my next question. “I have to wonder, though, who created the doorway to begin with. Both worlds would have been better off if they’d never mingled.”
“Who’s to say it wasn’t a natural occurrence? Or perhaps the gods created them.”
So he has no clue. I make a note to ask the Scholar People if there are any records. There has to be a way to close those doorways permanently. “So how does the wall work exactly? How does it keep our worlds separate?”
“Why so many questions today?”
“I’m the ruler now. Shouldn’t I know everything about Monsterland?”
He nods. “The wall does not separate our worlds; it encases the doorways, protects them. Like a great vault.”
Oh! A lightbulb goes on. I always assumed the wall was a barrier, separating their world from mine, but I couldn’t be more wrong. It’s just one big, long fortress that houses the doorways leading to my world.
“So if the wall isn’t a physical barrier between worlds, what’s the point of the structure? Why a wall?” I ask. “And what’s on the other side?” I know one side has fields where they grow food.
“Our legends say the land on the other side was once a lush green forest. Now it is a wasteland, burned so many times during the Age of Fire that the soil is toxic. Nothing, not even the hardiest of creatures, can survive there. It is dangerous to even travel over it.”
Interesting. “So it acts as a barrier to attack on one side, like building your castle on a cliff so you only have to defend one side.”
“Yes.”
“And why’s the wall so tall and long? Why not just build a big castle to protect the doorways?” Imagine the Great Wall of China, if that wall reached so high in the sky that it disappeared into the clouds.
“After the first portion of the wall was completed, the War People started living longer. Our population exploded, and we began fighting amongst ourselves for land. There was not enough to go around. The solution was to build up and along the narrow stretch of land that runs along the edge of the wasteland—save the farmable land for growing crops. Now, everyone lives in the wall, in their own dwellings. It’s a much more efficient use of space.”
That makes perfect sense. They saved their land for growing food and kept the footprint of the wall as small as possible. Also, having the wasteland on one side gives them more protection.
“How many War People are there, exactly?” I ask.
“I normally do not disclose this information, but we are over thirty thousand, which includes a thousand Wall Men and several thousand trained warriors who make up our regular army. The Wall Men never leave the keep except under special circumstances.”
I almost choke on my spit. Thirty thousand giants? No wonder that wall is so tall and long. “That’s a lot of large mouths to feed and house.”
I note the concern in Alwar’s eyes. Looking after so many people can’t be easy.
My mind drifts to thoughts of letting them all die. It hardly seems fair. On the other hand, Alwar said it himself: the creatures here don’t want peace, and most want the wall to come down. It could be tomorrow or a hundred years from now, but sooner or later they’ll find a way.
I think about my small community of Mayburg just off Route 666. They’d be the first to be eaten. Then the monsters would move to Tionesta, Oil City, and Newmansville. Every living creature—babies, children, the elderly, adults, deer, dogs, squirrels, and bugs—would be devoured along the way as monsters pour in like fire ants. Humans with weapons could take down a Skin if they’re smart enough to distinguish one from, say, their family cat that’s been skinned and digested, but my world has no real defenses against some of these monsters. Trolls, for example. You’d have to nuke them or something, and that’s never a winning proposition. In the meantime, Fliers would begin filling the skies. Vampires would feast on everyone or, even worse, add to their army. A very, very bad situation, if you really think about it.
At the moment, the monsters feed on each other because there’s no other choice. It’s a sick sort of population control. But imagine if they turned their ravenous appetites our way. Their populations would explode the minute they stop hunting each other. After a few months, my world would be overrun. After a few years, there’d be nothing left.
Then what?
What would the trillions of monsters eat? There’d be more of them than before, so they’d go back to eating each other. The result being two worlds tapped out of resources. This is what I have to keep reminding myself of. I have to think of home and the fact that I am still the only person, or ex-person, who knows about this threat. Of course, if I told anyone, they wouldn’t believe me.
“What troubles you, Lake?” Alwar asks as we trudge along, him at a very slow pace given I need to take ten steps to equal one of his.
“Oh. Um, nothing. I’m just hungry again, and I don’t want to lose control.”
“We cannot stop if we want to return to your palace before daylight.”
We still have to walk back after I visit with the Scholar People. If they let me in. “Maybe you can summon that dead brother of yours.”
“Bardolf? What would you need him for?” Alwar says, sounding jealous.
“He…helps with the hunger. Didn’t anyone tell you?”
“No.” Alwar’s mouth forms a hard line. “And who requested Bardolf to help?”
“Gabrio arranged it.” And I couldn’t be more grateful. This is no way to live.
“Then I shall have a word with him.”
“Why?” I question.
“Because I am your husband. Not him. He should not be going behind my back and meddling in your life.”
“Alwar, you keep talking about this marriage like it’s real.”
“What are you saying?” he growls.
“You know exactly what I’m saying. I only agreed to go through with the ceremony to save your people.” Under the now voided Proxy Vow, the kingdoms were only allowed to kill for food or to directly defend a life. If you broke the treaty, the No Ones would come for you—a very strong deterrent. So when the Mountain People, who never agreed to the treaty, attacked the wall, the War People were fighting with their hands tied. The Proxy Vow didn’t allow for going on the offense, i.e., sneaking up behind your enemy through secret tunnels built into the wall and attacking.
Cue complicated treaty loophole.
When Alwar married me, it took me off the board as his proxy because husbands are sworn to protect their wives here. It’s a law older than the Proxy Vow. So, with only one other viable proxy left, it voided the Proxy Vow treaty and freed the War People to go on the offense and win the battle. And yes, Alwar was taken hostage during the Mountain People’s retreat, and I went to negotiate with Mato, king of the Mountain People, to get him back. And here we are.
“But you are still my wife,” Alwar argues.
“In name only, just like I told you and you agreed to on our wedding day.” I made it no secret that I would still decide whom I loved, slept with and shared my life with. I believe my exact words were “this is an arrangement to help you win a war, but my heart and body are off the table. I’ll do what I want with them with whomever I want.”
I think it was a pragmatic approach. I mean, look at us. He’s a fifty-foot-tall warlord, and I am a five-two human—or will be again soon. If size weren’t an issue, he’s not the type of man I’d fall in love with. The man I love will put me first, not put me down. He’ll protect me, not ask me to fight to the death so he can be the ruler. He’ll also treat me as an equal, at least intellectually. Physically, I might be game for a little inequality. Especially in bed. I can’t lie. I like a man who’s big, strong, and hard in all the right places. I like a man who takes charge during sex.
“I have not forgotten,” says Alwar, “but perhaps you do not recall the fact that I swore fidelity to you—even if it meant never bedding another woman again.”
He also said something about winning me over. I still don’t know why. My best guess is that he wants me to think he’s loyal to me. I know he’s not. He’s only loyal to his throne, power, and people.
“Well,” I say, “you made your bed. But that doesn’t exclude Gabrio and Bard from helping or caring about me.”
Alwar laughs into the air. “They are weak and disloyal, just like my mother and sister.”
Ooh. Someone sounds jealous. I stop walking, and Alwar halts, too. “Yet, I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for them. Can’t say the same for you. You repeatedly put me in harm’s way.”
Alwar suddenly looks flustered—bunched brows and crinkled lips. “Well-well, that does not change their nature, Lake. Even a fool can prove useful every now and again.”
“So if you don’t trust them, then who? Tiago?” Now it’s my turn to laugh.
Alwar bends down, putting us nose to nose. His nostrils flare, and there’s a stern look in his eyes. I’ve definitely hit a nerve. “I trust no one. Not even you, wife.”
Ouch. The sting is instant. Then again, he’s right. He can’t trust me. “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you forced me to stay here and be the new ruler.”
“I did think of it, because as king, that is my job. Never forget it, Lake.”
“How could I? Being king is all you talk about. So sad that you’re not even a good one.”
He stands straight up and snarls down at me. A delicious vein pulsing in his temple. He probably wants to thump me over the head with his fist right now. I just want to bite him.
“Oh, did I hurt your feelings?” I say spitefully. “Well, maybe next time, think about not handing over an eight-year-old little girl’s parents to die so she has to be raised by her grandma. And when that little girl grows up, having missed her mom and dad every single day of her life,” I raise my voice, “perhaps reconsider taking her from her fucking home and using her as a fucking pawn for your fucking political gain. And while you’re at all this ‘thinking’ of yours, don’t force her to marry you and then start telling her what to do,” I yell, “after she’s been turned into a fucking vampire!”
Alwar looks away, toward the pack of vampires marching far ahead. His chest rises and falls rapidly with agitated breaths. “We should pick up the speed. We are losing time.”
He starts walking.
I’ve hurt his feelings? No, that’s not it. His expression was more stunned or disturbed than anything else.
Is it possible that all this time, he’s never once stopped to consider what he did to me? I’m broken in so many ways, I can’t even begin to count. And every fracture, every scar, every hole in my heart was caused by him.
How could he not know this?