Into the Deep Wood

When guards came to the courtyard, the horses were already saddled and prepared.

Many men were hurrying about, all of them dressed in armor and carrying swords. The gravity of where they were going began to settle on Val.

They’d given her a dress that would cover her body wholly from the desert sun. It ran from a clasp nearly at her jaw all the way down to the ground. The sleeves were long, but even then Val had slipped on the gloves. She no longer went anywhere without them.

In the Southern fashion, the skirts were cut twice at the front and all the way up the thigh. One would wear light leggings underneath for the sake of modesty - but this had allowed the women to ride a horse without any discomfort, which she had appreciated. Iros had advised that she wrap a scarf around her head as to not get burned. It covered her head wholly, leaving only a sliver of an opening for her eyes.

The horses were taller than she was used to, and she had gotten on with no grace in her movements. She was thankful the scarf had covered her face as she was sure the struggle of the efforts reflected on it poorly.

She had to wait as more of the King’s commanders entered the yard. The King himself was nowhere to be seen, but the Queen had already arrived. Nesmeyana had been dressed in a similar garb, but hers had been silky and decorated with the colors of the South. Atop her head, she wore a thin crown, plain and without jewels.

Thinking of the Wound at the River Cities, she thought of how painful it had been to be near it. She thought of the giant sleeping serpent wrapped around it.

Gods, but what was she doing…

And then, she saw Ivan.

He was dressed in lighter armor than the others—his more so resembled travel clothes, with only thin leather over the shirt.

He had not seen her.

The guilt, affection, and sadness tore through Val, grinding against one another and merging together into confusion and fear.

What was she going to say to him? She had to say something as soon as she could.

He glanced toward her. She did not think he recognized her, fully covered as she was. But his eyes lingered, then he looked toward the Queen. His head snapped back to Val and he took a step forward to go to her, and stopped suddenly.

“We will stop for water three times,” Marat said, coming up behind her. “We are going to the heart of the desert. There will be little to no shade, and very hot. Make sure that when we stop at a well that you not only let the horse drink but let someone pour water over its skin. Neck and legs are more important.”

His eyes lingered on hers.

“The clothes suit you, although I would prefer many less.” He said, quieter. “I will ride by your side, but my horse is still in its stable. Iros will be here to escort you in a moment.”

She gave him a smile but it was lost within the scarf. When he stepped away she looked to where Ivan had stood. She saw that he was still there, looking at her with question and a slight frown. He looked to where Marat had gone.

“Numisrah.” A soldier rode up to her. “The Queen wishes you to ride with her majesty.”

What.

He took her horse’s reins and led her to where the procession was getting ready to leave - the Queen’s eyes fixed on Val.

She said nothing as everyone began to leave the courtyard. First went the guards and militia, then the captains and lieutenants. She saw Iros and Marat escort the King, and she and the Queen followed.

They rode for the better part of an hour. Marat had not exaggerated when he said it would be hot. The landscape became flat, the ground looking as if sandy scales. The sun beat down so cruelly that all horses and their riders bowed their heads down and away, not that it would have helped. The further they got, the hotter and drier it became.

They stopped at a well, and Marat came over and helped her horse cool off. The well was large and covered with logs fastened with ropes and tar. It took three men to remove it to gather water from somewhere deep within.

When they took off again, the Queen spoke.

“Where are you from, numisrah?” She’d asked without turning her head. Val realized that her voice had been quiet, so no one could tell they had been talking with the scarves covering their faces. She matched the volume to hers.

“The North, Your Majesty.” She answered. “A small village in the North.”

“And how did you come upon the Hag?”

“I left home when I was young. I did not know of what she was, I did not know of the Nothing at all.”

“Hm.” She seemed unimpressed. “Do you know that I have also met the Hag?”

Val turned her head to look at the Queen in shock, forgetting for a moment that she was not to let on they were speaking.

“I did not, Your Majesty.”

“You are no stranger to how devils work, I’m sure. You know that some feed on the souls of those they trick or strike deals with. The blessing and the curse.” The Queen continued.

“I do.”

“Then you should know that losing such a thing is no small deal.”

Val remained quiet. She thought of the Bandureek that had not shown when she had called. He had nothing to gain any longer should she not have been able to answer his riddles. There was only the Nothing’s corruption inside now.

“I do.”

“I think,” the Queen said, even quieter now. “That you have lost that yourself.”

Val’s heart pounded all of a sudden. She felt the breath catch in her chest. The words had been so calm, so steady. Not a hint of accusation. Just a fact.

“Am I misjudging you, numisrah?”

Val could not speak. She tried to think of anything else to answer the Queen.

Tell no one.

“You have nothing to fear from me, girl.” The Queen sighed. “My husband speaks harsh words, but he is not a fool. It would have been disastrous for the crown if he had pardoned you in front of the court and the eyes of the White Cities. You have a chance now to clear your name and remain in the palace with the one you love.”

Again, Val forgot herself and looked to the Queen.

“Since he came, he asked of you. He’d known I’d met the Hag, and he asked all the questions in the world of me. The Ember Sword was not afraid to cross the lines of rank and status. And I have great respect for him for that. He loves you more than anything in the mortal world, numisrah.”

Val felt the warmth in her heart swell. The Queen’s words were kind.

“Tell me, what do you plan to do when he is gone?”

“What?”

“He won’t live as long as you. Not unless he sells his soul to the Hag or becomes a god. Both highly unlikely now.”

A sting, she had thought of it only once.

“Will you outlive your husband?” She asked, immediately regretting her informal words.

“By a dozen years, perhaps. But I have not sold my mortal soul. I’ve sold only my life’s happiness.” She said. “I sold it a long time ago. I was a girl and I was in love with a man far older than I. A man so beautiful that my maiden heart had ceased to beat in his presence.”

“Was it the King?”

The Queen nodded.

“I am from the East. We are no strangers to the Nothing there. My husband’s lands had suffered, and the White Cities were exposed. So I had gone to seek the Hag. I’d done it on my own.” She went on. “We struck a bargain. She took my smile, and instead, she promised me that in all the lands, as long as my husband ruled, our warriors would be worth four any other men in battle. She had not lied about that, but I soon discovered that it was not only my smile that was gone. I’ve felt nothing since. Not a crumb of joy or tear has touched my face. I live as an empty shell on this earth, waiting for my mortal death.”

“Your Majesty has paid a high price then…”

This time, the Queen turned her head to Val.

“Nonsense. She gave a whole of a nation the power to turn around its status in exchange for one woman’s happiness. But I was already a queen, and it was a trinket she did not have. I had been lucky that, in her greed, she’d done that. I will not ask what you have gained from what you’ve done, but I hope it was worth it.”

“Me too.”

“Answer my question, numisrah.”

Val paused, trying to remember what it had been.

“I thought him gone for more than seven years. My heart cannot take that once more.”

The Queen nodded and did not say anything else.

They’d made two more stops, nearly every hour. The heat was so great that all had been grateful for the rest, however brief. The last leg of the journey had gone much longer.

They stopped suddenly. The land was so flat you could see for leagues upon leagues around with nothing - not even a single tree - to mar the horizon. Val looked for Ivan, but Asim seemed not to allow him to approach. The man kept a stern eye on him, riding closely at his side.

Val looked around to see where they had arrived but saw nothing that looked like a Wound.

The men rode around and formed a line rather than a traveling formation.

Marat rode up to her, speaking in a hushed tone.

“You are going to go on alone. It isn’t far. They dare not step closer to a Wound. My duty calls me to remain behind as well, but I will watch you closely, and I will be at your side in a heartbeat should anything go wrong.”

She nodded to him, her stomach twisting.

“What can I expect?” She asked.

“It is but a void in the ground. You will not see it until you are near. The horse will not go to it, so you have to walk by foot,” He lowered his voice further, “It is nothing like the one in River Cities. You will feel something, but it will not tear you apart. It has been dormant for a long time.”

The ground gave way softly, as sand does. She could feel its heat even through her shoes. Val only looked ahead as she walked further from the line of soldiers and the King.

In front of her was nothing but distance, cracked earth, and trembling air.

It was a sudden feeling that spread through her entire body…

She was alone.

Completely, utterly alone.

She felt the separation as a splintered log breaking in two.

She could feel it near. And it had isolated her.

Slowing her steps, Val reached and pulled the scarf down to allow herself to breathe. The hot air seemed to force its way into her lungs, making her head spin.

And then, she saw it.

As if the ground had suddenly given way, a hole in the ground appeared. It was vast, and she had no idea how she did not see it as she approached.

Twenty paces away at most, she saw there was nothing inside… absolutely nothing. Not stone or even sand. The earth turned to space, filled with darkness so thick you could not see anything beyond the rim.

Her steps turned uncertain, but she went on. She felt the distance now. From the guards, the horses, from Marat. From the city. From the world. There was only the void.

Stopping at its edge, she looked down into the viscous nothing. It threatened to swallow her whole, just like it did the light.

“Please, do not let me fall, not here, not now.” She prayed, to no one in particular. There had been no god left for Val.

She closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing.

Eyes closed, she reached out.

Her hand felt as if it disappeared into the dark. The sensation, where before she felt a thread was just… Nothing. She did not feel the leather of the glove. She could not move her fingers. They were simply… gone. But, she did not pull it back, allowing herself to get accustomed to the sensation.

It pulled her in, but she had not moved. Her eyes still closed, she felt fragments of herself separating off. And then, the Nothing climbed. It moved just a little further up her arm, and she felt the fragments grow in size. It was as if they were simply disappearing, all parts of her, all she was. She’d began forgetting. It felt as if mere moments, and she hardly knew who she was. She could not picture Marat’s face, not Ivan’s, not even her mother’s. She had forgotten her own and then her name, too.

But she felt the throb of something in her hand. She grabbed it, cold to the touch, even through her gloves she felt the tingling of herself going numb.

A thought, almost a memory. She saw it in her mind, in the dark. It was her name. She could not remember it anymore, but it was there, suspended.

She felt her body fall to its knees.

She gripped the thread…

And she threw herself in.

She did not exist in a way that other things existed. In fact, she existed in a place where Nothing else existed. She was something different, she was something strange, but stranger than what?

Ripped, to give way to something. Something else. Something strange and different. To give way to life, to the world. Rage, hurt. She was torn apart, pushed aside, destroyed. She bled her anger, and it had turned to something worse. She was loneliness. She was anger. She was fear. She was a wound upon the world, one that could not heal because its blood still flowed.

The Nothing, we were here first.

A breath.

She breathed, and her lungs filled with the searing hot air of the desert. Her eyes snapped open. She knelt on the burning ground right on it’s edge.

“Valeria.” She whispered. Her name echoed through the Wound. She saw the edges of the rim begin to crack. To crack and fall down into the darkness. She closed her eyes once more.

There was no longer a thread. There were hundreds.

She took each with care, and with the pattern of a suture, she wove them through and around. This time, she did not unbind. This time, she made the pattern itself, pulling the threads until they pulled together tight - closing in. She heard their voices. She heard the roars of the beasts. She heard the whines and screams and howls.

And then, she heard nothing more.

Opening her eyes, she knelt in the middle of a vast, empty desert. Only cracked dirt laid out in front of her.

The Wound was gone.