Into the Deep Wood

A month passed. As far as she knew, Ivan had entirely disappeared.

They had not spoken a word since she was taken to the Alabaster Palace, and then he was just - gone.

No word. But, she deserved that. After everything they had been through together, everything they had been to each other…

She could not help that she had still felt a tenderness in her heart for him, and truth be told she’d missed the man, but it would never be the same - not from the moment she saw Marat again.

She asked of Ivan from Asim, Iros, and even Marat.

But none could answer where he had gone.

Marat had returned from a meeting with Ivan with not even a hint of what they’d spoken about. But Val couldn’t help but think that perhaps something was said that would make Ivan leave. Perhaps the truth.

She could not bring herself to say something to Marat.

Val was not a very brave girl, after all.

It was made worse that Iros had told her that for all the time he knew Marat, there had been no one else but Val.

Marat still hadn’t spoken of how he had been alive. The topic seemed to slip away anytime she brought it up, so she stopped. There was something to it he did not want to speak of, and she did not want to keep pressing that.

Perhaps… perhaps she had left him for dead when he was not?

No. She had been sure. She pushed the memory from her thoughts. She suffered it so vividly for years. The smell of death after three days. The dark patches of blood coming to the surface of his skin… no, she couldn’t have.

Gods help her.

She was kept far from everyone, only truly roaming on the palace grounds. She had been content with that as long as it allowed her ample time to spend with Marat. They spent their days in the gardens by the fountains and in the large stone rooms with lounging couches and baths built into the floor.

The nights were spent making up for time lost, intoxicated by the other’s presence in the dark.

Often, Marat would have to attend to his duties, whatever those had been at court - she still was not quite sure. At those times, when Iros could, he would visit, and they would spend time speaking of the West and medicines. He had been oddly well-versed in such things.

Of course, she did end up seeing Yaro there as well.

“Valeria!” Yaro exclaimed when he and Iros walked into the great hall. His eyes got wide and his face slightly red when he saw Marat at her side. He looked to Iros.

“Well, call me a cat in the dog hou-se. How’d thi-s happen??” He said in a lowered tone, which was rather ineffective with how naturally loud his voice had been.

He looked to Val, then Marat, and back to Val.

“Where i-s the other rabbit…” He said to himself.

Discussions were being had on the battlefront. There had been small skirmishes with Commander Rurik’s men, but nothing that had not been the norm.

Korschey was silent in his Obsidian Palace, and it had caused increasing worry within Batyr’s ranks.

Val did not see the King more than once or twice. The Queen only invited her for the occasional lunch.

The nobles here were much different than in the North. The vast majority did not live in the palace at all or within the grounds. The ones that did occupy the rooms were very old, powerful families who had been deeply involved in the politics of the South. They were not likely to smile or strike up a conversation with her.

She had a lot of time to think about what happened at the Wound. It was all so… hard to recall. As if she had been pushed through the air at such speeds that she had hardly seen what was around her. The only vivid thing that remained was the pain that she felt coming from the abyss. The sense of pouring, bleeding, unable to get any relief. She felt… sorry for it, just like she had felt pity for the Hag once…

“Someone is asking for you.”

Val had been sitting at a writing desk, jotting down some of the things she and Iros had spoken of the day before - cures for headaches, rashes, and dry mouth. Riveting subjects. The West truly was a place of plenty if that was what they worried about healing.

She raised her head, and Marat was in the doorway. His face was rather… inquisitive. Val noted that he had become far more expressive than she had ever known him to be, even if half his face was forever frozen. Perhaps it was that all of the emotion now had gone directly to the left.

“Who?”

“I am not sure. A woman, nobility, it seems. She has no accent and will not say who she is without seeing you.” He answered, motioning toward the hallway.

Val raised her brows and stood to follow. A woman? She had not known any women…

Oh gods!

Lady Katerina…

Her pace quickened. Marat had matched it to keep up, and the wrinkle between his brows became deeper.

“Who is she, Val?” He asked as they descended the stairs.

“A friend.”

“You don’t have any friends.”

“An acquaintance, then.” She shooed his question away.

She’d nearly run out onto the steps outside. As she feared, below in the courtyard was the decorated carriage with an intricate painted image on the side. Outside of it stood the creature. Its dress was white and fell beneath the shoulders, barely covering its bony chest. It was facing Val.

“My darling, but there you are!” She exclaimed. The voice was so unpleasant to the ears. “Oh, but it has been too long! Afraid I am fashionably late to your invitation for a visit.”

Marat looked to Val again, who was simply staring ahead with wide eyes full of quiet panic.

Her gut turned.

“Please… Lady Katerina… honored to have you…” She said, hesitating on each word.

At this, the creature waved its hand, and the driver hurried to retrieve the luggage from the back.

It ascended the stairs until it stood right next to them. Its head turned to Marat.

“But my, you are quite the sight. A battle-worn warrior, I see.” It said with a smile. “I bet you have a story or two; I simply must hear them one of these nights!”

As if suddenly remembering Ivan’s reaction to Lady Katerina, Val’s head snapped to him.

She hated the look she saw as he gazed at the creature.

The creature just smiled wider.

“Marat,” Val tried to force a smile onto her face, and she knew that the creature sensed its insincerity, “could we somehow arrange for rooms for Lady Katerina? She is… I will have to tell you all about it.”

He did not respond right away, still looking at the creature. Then, as if waking up from a daze, he looked at Val and nodded. When he turned to walk away, he glanced back at it again.

“My oh my.” Lady Katerina turned to Val. “But I knew you would make yourself at home here. How fortunate, my timing. I smell the stink of nobility on him.”

Val shook her head.

“Not him. Please.”

The smile widened still.

“Oh?”

“I will keep my promise. But I require one of you as well.” Val said. “There can be no nobles that ‘run off with servant wenches’ here. No death.”

“My dear strikes a hard bargain.” It mused. “Very well.”

It turned to walk as the driver struggled through the doors with one of the many pieces of luggage. It turned back to her before disappearing inside.

“If it makes a difference, I liked the other one more. He was prettier.”

Lost, Val did not know what to do regarding the Skriga.

She did not like having it around, and Lady Katerina seemed to appear everywhere she went. Quickly, it made its way into the less-than-friendly noble circles. It seemed that any man who had encountered it had become enamored, and this caused great unrest among the ladies of the court.

The only one entirely unaffected was Iros.

“She cannot stay here…” Val said as she stood with the High Templar on the balcony off her room. “I cannot say why, but she cannot stay here.”

“Forgive my asking, but are you possibly jealous?” He smiled slightly. They’d become good friends, and his proper nature seemed to have given way quite a bit around her, even if Marat was not around.

“No…” Val said slowly. “I mean, maybe yes, a bit, but no.”

“What is the harm then? You have vouched for her enough to get her fine apartments, and now you want her to leave?”

“It’s complicated…” Val sighed deeply. “I made a promise. She was the one to get us into the High District. She had provided us with horses when we had to leave. I am indebted to her.”

“Many things are complicated. You may be complicated, but how you treat others is not. What is it.”

Val paused, wanting to tell him, but she could not. If he knew it was a Nothing-touched, and she had let it in… oh gods, the more she had thought about it, the worse it got.

“Please, Iros. I cannot.”

He held his eyes on her but did not press the issue.

“Perhaps you should speak to… him.” He said.

Val had noticed long ago that Iros would not say Marat’s name. It was so rare and only in the most urgent situations.

In front of others, he had called him the Ember Sword, and somehow, that seemed important.

“Perhaps I should.” She had no intention to, but she did not wish to speak on the topic any longer. It had become an obsession the longer Lady Katerina was there.

As she and Iros parted, the overwhelming sense of needing to find Marat overtook her. Ever since she had arrived, it seemed that more responsibilities had fallen on him. He spent a great amount of time at the citadel and barracks. He spent a great deal of time with the King.

There was even talk of him going South to receive the Western ships.

South, where Ivan’s family had been… where Ivan was sure to be now.

The familiar creaking and scratchy voice brushed her ear. It was a giggle. She cringed, but something drove her to walk in that direction.

As she approached, she could see the creature sitting at a table with its sharp chin propped on its absurdly long fingers. She was sitting with–

Marat?

Val increased her pace, her heart pounding. He was seated in a very relaxed pose, and she even thought she saw the corner of his mouth curled in the slightest of grins. As she approached, the creature turned its head and threw up its hands.

“My darling! But what a delight to have your company. We were just discussing how different the South is from the West! But my, the West sounds so lovely this time of the year - such calm weather among the fig trees. How had such a hardened man come from such a gentle place?”

Something hot rose in Val’s chest. It was angry and violent. She felt her breathing increase, and the creature’s mouth curled as it saw the reaction.

“Please, sit.” It pointed to an empty chair.

Marat said nothing, his eyes on Lady Katerina. Val lowered herself onto the chair.

“Marat, dearest, do tell my good friend how calm the weather is?”

Val’s heart stopped. The creature said his name.

The name that did not leave their rooms.

Gods, no.

She stood back up immediately.

“We have to go.” She told Marat. “Iros has to see you.”

“Hm?”

“Iros. Has. To. See. You.”

He frowned but stood. He bowed his head to the creature, and Val pulled him by the hand and away.

She waited until the door closed behind them in her room.

“Are you crazy!” It was a yell and hiss in one. She felt all the anger and frustration in the world seep through her words.

“I’m being welcoming, is all. Is she not your friend?” He shrugged. His face seemed to clear up a bit from the stupified look he had on it prior.

“You told her your name!” Val exclaimed. “Your real name!”

He looked at her as if he did not quite understand, then his face paled.

“We’ve been using it so much I must have forgotten myself…” He muttered.

“Oh gods…” Val’s eyes darted about nervously as if she were looking for anything to save her from looking him in the eye. “Oh god, this is all my fault…”

“I think you should not think so much of her.” He advised with a look on his face that made Val want to slam the door on him immediately.

“She’s a creature!” She blurted out, her face growing even more panicked. He only looked confused again.

“What?”

“She’s Nothing-touched!!”

She’d forgotten that the windows were open. She’d forgotten that she’d let her in. All she knew was the look on his face when he was sitting at that table.

“Fuck.” His expression changed, and he sat down on the bed with the full weight of his body. “How do you know?”

“It’s my fault!” She felt like crying. He was not looking at her, and it was for the best. “I let it in. It was the one that got me to the Obsidian Palace, and I owed it - so I let it in.”

“You what?” Now, his eyes had shot up. He was angry. “You made a deal with a Nothing-touched and let it in here?”

“I had no choice!” She felt herself yelling and tried to calm her breath. “There was no other way, Marat. No other way for me to see the Hag. If it were not for the creature, I would not be here now. I would not have been able to close the Wound.”

“It’s fine, Val.” He shook his head, his voice far calmer than hers. “We will fix this. Just tell me what it is. I could not feel it, and your Nothing-touched spider has screwed up the sense of them - I close my eyes and try to concentrate and just feel that thing everywhere I go in the palace.”

“It’s a Skriga.” She said, trying to level her voice to his.

“What in the pigshit is a Skriga?”

“It feeds on the gossip and unrest in the court.”

There was a long moment of silence. His face was blank.

“Val,” Marat finally said, “there is no such thing as a Skriga that feeds on gossip and unrest. That is just not… a thing.”

“What? How do you know? You do not know every creature…”

“Val. Listen to me; there is no such thing.”

She stared at him.

“Oh.” She said finally.

“It lied to you.”

She sat down next to him and he put an arm around her, pulling her to him as she only stared ahead, her face deeply troubled.

“We will figure this out as well.” He said. “What do you know of her?”

“She uses glamor,” Val said quietly.

When she glanced up, she saw that his face had reddened to nearly a deep mauve.

Val had to think hard about what else she knew of the creature.

“She could tell when I was lying. She cast a silence on the halls; as long as I did not break it, I could walk them freely. That is how I was able to see the Hag.”

“Fuck.” Marat said. “It’s an Upyr.”

“That is not in the book…”

“That is because I have never come across one.” He said. “As rare as they are, they are incredibly hard to spot. The glamor is incredibly strong, making it imperceptible. It is very, very strong. How did you find out it is Nothing-touched?”

“I can see it…” She murmured, “How hideous it is.”

“Hm.” She felt him staring at her. “I cannot say I’ve heard of anyone being able to do that…”

“If it does not feed on gossip… what does it feed on?”

“It’s a bloodsucker.” He said. “It doesn’t necessarily kill, for the most part. But it does… charm victims into less than ideal situations and feed on them over time.”

“Now what?” She asked, unable to hide the repulsion on her face.

“Can you do that thing? The thread?”

She shook her head.

“I tried with her. That’s how she saw me. I couldn’t. She is too strong for me.”

“Hm. Well, I cannot go. She has my name.”

“We could sick Yaro on her.” She suggested with a smile.

“Yaro spent nine to twenty years living with a water nymph. He is fortunate not to have glanced this thing, or he would have no blood left among other fluids.” Marat laughed.

“Iros?”

“He has been strangely uninterested...”

“Gods,” Val whined. “Maybe you should stay in here for a while. I don’t know if I can watch what happened out there again.”

“It is a bit endearing that you are jealous.” He admitted, grinning. “I cannot say I have seen this side of you before.”

“I cannot say I’ve ever had a reason for it.”

He pulled her closer, his other hand finding hers.

“I wouldn’t want to ever give you reason for it.”