Chapter 17 ~ For No One But Me

The world fell back into place around her with a jolt, like waking suddenly from a half sleep.  She turned around to see Russ standing a few feet away from her on the steps.  Eliasha had run back to him and gripped him by the arm, trying to get him to turn back the other way.  They both froze as the dogs came to a halt before them and began to circle.  They could have pounced right away.  Why didn’t they?  Liseli stood rooted to her spot, fearing that the slightest movement would trigger a lunge from one or both.

The first dog tossed its head and uttered a low snarl.  The other lowered its head and eyed Eliasha, coming near to her skirt with its teeth barred.  Russ slowly lifted his hands, murmuring, “Nice dogs . . . ” nearly too quiet to hear.  He glanced at Liseli.

“Run!” she cried.

He shook his head almost imperceptibly.  The first dog slashed its tail through the air and made a feint at him, startling him into leaning the other way.  But he didn’t run.  You’re not supposed to turn and run.  Everybody knows that.

“For God’s sake, Russell, just run now.”

Russ shook his head again.  “Walk back slowly,” he said, and it took a moment for her to realize that he was talking to Eliasha.  The dogs reared up, almost blocking Liseli’s view with their broad shoulders.

Eliasha lifted her hands away from Russ then, and took a step backward.  She continued to back up, shuffling, holding out her hands.  She was beginning to cry.  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.  Liseli didn’t understand at first, but then she saw.  As soon as Eliasha was clear, the first dog lunged for Russ.

Russ’s eyes widened and he crossed his arms in front of his face.  Both dogs landed on him.  He fell back, and she lost him; she couldn’t see him through the writhing bodies of the dogs.  They gurgled as their jaws crunched down, and their tails cracked the air.  Liseli tripped on her skirt and fell forward.  She hadn’t known she’d been moving.  She landed on the hard edges of the steps and felt the wind rush from her.  The steps came into sharp focus then blurred.  Somewhere someone was screaming, but it wasn’t her.

She saw a tail flick before her face and felt the air move.  She reached out and grabbed it.  It was smooth and velvety.  It thrashed violently when her hand closed around it.  Pain wrenched her shoulder as it was jerked wide to the side, but she hung on and tried to pull it back to her.  She would pull the tail out.  She would.  She rolled to the side on the hard ridges and reached out her other hand.  There were other noises around her.  Her mind didn’t register them.  All she saw was the tail.  She gripped it with both hands and yanked.  A sound came from her, a yell.

Then she saw the eyes and the teeth.  The dog was over her and the tail was still in her hands.  A giant paw — a hand — landed on her chest and dug the steps into her back.  It pinned her down.  The face loomed over her, snarling.  The eyes were red.  The teeth were red.  The air stank.  She couldn’t breathe.

She hit it in the neck, but it didn’t yield to the blow.  She felt strong cords like steel underneath the taut skin.  It reached out with its other hand and gripped her arm, squeezing and pricking her skin with its claws.  Gently.  In warning.  It growled a low rumble.  Her eyes rolled up in pain.  She was trapped.  She kicked.  Her knee hit the underside of the beast and compacted in pain as if she’d hit bricks.  She screamed.  But nothing came out, because she couldn’t breathe.  No one else was screaming.  Not anymore.

She couldn’t see anything but the jowls above her.  Something dripped from them and fell wet on her face.

Then it was sky.  The black head and red teeth snapped to the side with a hollow yipe.  The hand was yanked away from her chest as the body fell to the side.  It landed heavily on her legs.  There was a thud, and then another and another.  She still held the tail in one hand.  It was not thrashing.

She choked and coughed as her lungs expanded with air.  She pushed herself up and saw her attacker lying motionless across her shins, arrows sticking out of its body. The palace guards had finally done their job.  Through the arrows she saw people, some standing, some crouching.  Eliasha was standing at the top of the steps holding a broken chair in her hands.  Her face was stricken.  Halla was at her feet, crouched over.  She yelled at someone to do something.

Liseli cried out as she felt hands seize her arms and pull her up.  Someone kicked the dog aside.  Liseli didn’t want their hands on her arms.  She jerked away and stood on her knees, wavering.  “Russ?”  Where is he?  She felt dizzy.

Halla paused, looking over her shoulder, and Liseli saw past her between the others.  Russ was lying on the steps at Eliasha’s feet.  When she saw him she doubled over and retched without warning.  She lost the entire breakfast he had brought to her in bed.  Her vision swam.  Her mind blanked.  She couldn’t remember what she’d seen, besides the red.  That wasn’t Russ.  It wasn’t Russ.  Not anymore.  She felt another hand on her shoulder and batted it away with sudden force.  She tried to get to her feet, but her skirt tangled up her legs.

“Keep her away!”  It was Halla’s voice.  Her vision swam back in for a moment and she saw Halla’s shoulders bent as she knelt over what had been Russ.  More hands took hold of Liseli, insistently.  More people were yelling.  There were orders, questions, anger and fear.  Liseli’s own voice was joined with them, but she didn’t know what she was saying.  She wanted to get past the wall around what used to be Russ, but the hands were dragging her away.

They sat her down on the patio.  “He will be all right,” someone said in her ear.  “Halla is the greatest healer in the land.  She will take care of him.”  More assurances battered her, but all she could focus on were the hands holding her down and the sight of blood dribbling down the steps.  It was a waterfall to her.

“Let me go!” she screamed, and realized that her voice was hoarse.

“No, no,” the voices said to her.  “You can’t help him.  Halla knows these things.  Leave her to her business, it is for the best.”

“Shhh, shhh.  Please,” said another.

“They’re dead.  Do you see?  It’s all right.  They’re dead.”

“Are you hurt?  Let us help you.”

“No!” she thrashed.  “Let me go!”  She could smell the foul breath and see the jowls rise before her.  All she could see of Russ now was the bottom of his shoes.

Arlic’s voice rose above the din: “How did this happen?”  He seemed to be yelling it over and over again.

Eliasha was near her now.  She had wandered down the steps, still clutching the shattered chair.  She stood in the middle of the patio and cried.  “I’m sorry.  It’s all my fault.”

“What did you do?” Liseli jerked, hitting her captors.  They let her go, some with mutters.  “Why did you do that?” Liseli scrambled dizzily to her feet.  She advanced on Eliasha, remembering the pale hands lifting up as she backed away from Russ.  Like a stamp on her mind, the hands grew in size.  Backing away.  Lifting away.  “Why?  You knew what you were doing!”

Eliasha looked at her without really focusing.  “It’s all my fault,” she said again.  “Th-th-the hole . . . .”  She looked away, up into the pavilion, and Liseli followed her eyes to see Arlic.  “It’s my fault,” Eliasha called out.  Her grandfather stopped waving his hands at the men around him, and looked at her blankly.  Eliasha stammered, “The hole,” again, and dropped the chair to the ground with a clatter.

“What?” Liseli reached out and grabbed her shoulders, giving her a shake.  “What hole?  What did you do that for?”

“My hole in the wall.”  Eliasha let her hands hang at her sides, not trying to defend herself.  “I . . . I . . . I n-never told anyone b-but him.  My secret.  I . . . i-i-f I’d . . . they . . . but they . . . .”  She stopped and tried to cover her face. Liseli hated her blubbering and her tears, running down her cheeks into her mouth and dripping from her chin, but she forced her hands down.

“Speak!” she ordered harshly.  She leaned in close and caught a tremulous whisper from Eliasha:

“Th-there’s a hole.  In the wall, it l-leads to the r-river.  I used it t-to get t-to the river.  They got in.  They got in that way.  They must have.  I’m s-s-sorry.”

Liseli saw Arlic from the corner of her eye as he ran down the stairs.  He pulled her away from Eliasha, but she struck out at him as she backed away.  “Don’t touch me!”  She couldn’t stand their hands on her.

“What are you talking about?” said Arlic, gently holding Eliasha’s arms as he searched her face.  She just began to cry harder.  Liseli turned away.

She saw Halla rise to stand.  “I can’t,” she said, anger and frustration in her voice.  “I can’t stop it.  He’s bleeding too much, in too many places.  Arlic, I can’t stop it!”

Arlic turned to her.  “What are you doing?  Don’t stop trying!”

“Look at him!” Halla held a reddened cloth in her hand, and she waved it down at the ground where Russ lay.  “I am a healer, not a miracle worker!”

“Is he dead?”

“No!  But he will be!  I can’t stop it!”

“You will try until he’s dead.”

“You don’t understand.  He may as well be so already, because he won’t survive.  Not like this.”

“Halla!”

“Don’t yell at me!  Don’t yell at me!  This is your doing!” Halla stepped toward him.  “How many more children have to die before you’ll . . . before you’ll—”

“Stop it!”  Arlic reached out to give Eliasha a protective hug, turning her away from Halla.  “Stop this useless preaching and do your job.”

Liseli heard their voices, yelling louder, but their words were lost to her.  She was staring down at Russ.  She could see him again.  He was bandaged up with makeshift tourniquets, several hands were pressing down on his wounds, trying to check the bleeding, and he seemed lost beneath it all.  But his eyes were open.  She calmed suddenly.

He was awake.

That was alright, then.

Liseli climbed the steps, and no one stopped her this time.  She knelt down and studied his face.  She couldn’t look at the rest of him.  His face was bad enough — skin white and drained of blood from the inside but splattered on the outside.  His neck was covered in a reddening bandage, and hands were pressing it down.  She saw nothing of the people around him but their hands.  They were holding in his life, or merely trying.

He mumbled something.  Blood trickled from his mouth, and Liseli reached a hand out to stop him.  “Don’t try talking,” she said, brushing his lips.  His eyes weren’t focused on her face.  He blinked very slowly, staring at the ceiling of the pavilion.  “It’s not bad,” Liseli heard herself say without conviction.  She touched his face lightly, wiping away the blood.  She wished he would look at her and show signs of recognition.  Instead he closed his eyes.

“Don’t . . . don’t do that,” she hovered shakily.  “Don’t give up.  Russ?  C-can you . . . hear . . . me?”  He wasn’t moving anymore.

She felt a gentle, brief touch on her shoulder, like a tap.  Halla knelt back down next to her.  “Let him rest,” she said quietly.

“He’s—”

“No, he’s just sleeping.  See him breathing still?” Halla put an arm around her shoulders.  This time Liseli didn’t yank away.  She nodded.  “Now you need to rest, too.  You’re hurt.”

“No I’m not,” Liseli said, drawing her hand away from Russ hesitantly.  She looked at Halla’s hand resting on her shoulder. It was red, and left streaks on her skin and dress.  There were streaks of blood all over her.  But she wasn’t hurt.  She rocked back and stood, brushing away Halla’s arm.  Martilia was standing behind her, and she reached out, but Liseli turned, shaking her head.  She stumbled down the steps and stared at Eliasha again.

Martilia followed her.  “Come with me,” she said, “you are hurt.  You need help.”

“No I don’t,” Liseli waved her hands down at her sides.  He’s dying.  Do something.  Don’t do anything.  He’ll die.  He’s dead already.  He’s dying.  I’m dying.  Liseli.  I’m dying.

Something was burning.  She could smell it.  She felt pain in her chest.  A bruise from the dog’s great paw?  No, it was burning.  Her chest was burning.  She could smell her flesh burning.  Liseli looked down in wonder, and saw the dogseye pendent.  It didn’t look any different than before, but she felt it searing into her skin.  There were voices around her.  They were still talking to her, trying to get her to go somewhere, lie down, sleep, forget, stand by, don’t do anything.

That’s all you have to do, is nothing.  No, no, no.  It’s easy.  I wouldn’t make you do that.  I know you can’t.  Not yet.  You need to rest.

Her legs felt dull and heavy, but she began to run.  The people looked at her in surprise.  “No, let her go,” someone said.  She ran toward the hedge.  The necklace swung back and forth, bouncing up to strike her underneath the chin.  It burned wherever it touched.  There was a black mark on her chest.

She crashed through the hedge and stumbled out onto the lawn.  She didn’t know where she was going at first, but then she saw through the open tent to the table inside.  A tall clay jug stood amongst other dishes, and she careened toward it. There was no one around.  They’d all gone to the pavilion.

Liseli seized the jug.  It was empty.  She knocked the other dishes to the stone patio floor as she turned, and they shattered.  She slipped over the shards of pottery out into the sunshine again.  Her feet carried her down the path.  She knew where she was going now.  There is a hole in the wall. . . .   It leads to the river . . . .

She could see it in her mind’s eye, though she had never seen it before.  It burned itself into her mind’s eye.  It was by the tree, of course it was.  The tree by the bench by the wall, where Eliasha’s guitar was sitting.  She saw it up ahead.  Her legs didn’t want to move, they wanted to buckle and fall down, but she didn’t listen.  She could see the patch of ivy that she knew would move aside and there would be the hole.  The jug felt like a thousand tons in her hands.  It would be so easy to fall down.  And then she would never get up.  Never get up again.

She yanked the ivy aside with one hand.  There was a narrow slanted crack running down the wall near the base of the tree.  Liseli would have thrown herself through it if it wasn’t for the fragile jug.  She slipped through, pulling the jug after her, holding her breath as she guided it between the eroding stones.  She was outside the city now, standing in tall grass.  She couldn’t see the Chaiorra, though.  A hill sloped up away from her.  She hugged the jar to her chest, wincing as the dogseye bit deeper.  But she didn’t take it off.

Liseli stumbled up the hill.  Her legs were killing her.  They wanted to crumple.  She feared that if she looked at them they would give out.  As soon as she crested the hill she could see the river down below, sparkling bright blue in the sunshine.  It looked like heaven.  It was heaven.

When she tried to run down the hill she fell.  It was steep.  She tumbled and rolled, seeing the sky and the grass.  Green and blue was all around her as she fell, and fell, and fell.  It seemed like forever.  It was forever.  She dropped the jug.  She didn’t know where it went.  The grass lit on fire as she rolled through it.  The hill was no more.  She was falling down a cliff.  The world fell out from underneath her.  A pit opened up beneath her.  It had no bottom.  Darkness would cradle her as she fell forever . . . .