Chương 8: 7-Reclaimed Lands

Bob kept the Celestial Gate open long enough for the ragtag group of survivors to cross into Doran's farm. He entered the last one, making sure there were no stragglers behind, and dispelled the gate. There were many tears as family members who had given up on seeing each other met again. Many people hugged, and nearly everyone wept. Bob heard snippets of conversation he wished he hadn't— I am so sorry, Mata, I am so sorry; he did not make it.

The words were often followed by screams of pain and anguish as the worst news was confirmed. Many Vorians hugged in small groups, trying to take strength from each other. One woman sat alone, blankly staring at the wall—she had lost everyone. Billy and Jenna were hugging, too, relief plain on their faces—the boy had been worried sick and was on the verge of travelling to the city to look for them. Bob considered playing the pipes to calm everybody, but then thought better about it. Grief was a private feeling.

He did not have the right to interfere. Jenna would probably already be playing the pipes herself, but she was a pragmatic soul. He busied himself cooking food for everybody. When the meal was ready, everybody had calmed down, and the refugees were eating like starved POWs. Which they were.

"We must make a decision," Bob told the rest of the Losers.

"These people are in danger, and we can't just do our thing with this whole crowd around. We must get them somewhere safe."

"About that," Jenna said, "I just got a new ping five minutes ago. It is in the middle of the Reclamation zone."

"How convenient," Bob said dryly.

"It was what we were going to do, anyway."

"She is using us as a rescue team," Billy concluded.

"Maybe," Jenna conceded.

"Or that is what she wants us to think. For all we know, an army could be waiting for us at the next destination."

"We must move these people, Jenna," Billy firmly told her.

"A centaur squad came to investigate. I took care of them, but sooner or later, the other centaurs will notice they are missing. This area is no longer safe. We must leave."

"That is the kind of choice I like," Jenna said grimly.

"The kind that is no choice at all."

"Doran, tell your people to grab all they can carry. We leave in twenty minutes," she said in Vorian to the farmstead chieftain. Twenty minutes later, Bob created a new gate in the middle of the room. A gust of wind swept through the cluttered mess hall as the air left through the rift, travelling to colder climates and higher altitudes. Billy entered the rift first, wielding his elven weaponry and encased in leaf armor. The gateway led to a secluded village covered in mist.

Billy looked around, as if tasting the air.

"I can't detect any Essentials around, and the levels of ambient essence seem strangely low."

"It's safe," he signaled to the rest of the group. The farmers went in, all carrying as many belongings as their strength would allow, followed by Bob and Jenna. The rift closed with a slurping sound when all had crossed it. Jenna sniffed around.

"Lilacs," she announced.

"I think we have her."

"First things first," she added as she buried yet another dimensional beacon in the ground. Bob thought it made sense. If they ever wanted to teleport back to this world, this place was a much safer landing zone. The village looked uninhabited, but in good condition. There were about a hundred farms and wooden houses.

"What is this place, Doran?" Bob asked the chieftain.

"Our new home," he said.

"This is one of the abandoned villages Balance has marked as part of the Reclamation effort. The Reclaimers will undoubtedly have tamed the local dungeon, which is eating the essence. Balance pays colonists a stipend to settle here. We will be welcome if we choose to stay."

"It seems empty," Jenna remarked.

"The dungeon has probably been cleared quite recently."

"That means we get our pick of the houses," Doran said, always pragmatic.

"That house is safe," Jenna said after examining it with her enhanced perception.

"Just huddle inside it while we make sure the village is secure." Bob watched the farmers move into the house.

"Let's go," Jenna said after a little while, tracking the scent of lilacs on the cobbled street. The three advanced in silence, weapons in hand, expecting an attack at any moment. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. The scent led them along the main street to the only occupied building in the whole village. Light streamed from the open windows. It looked like the local inn.

"Get ready," Jenna said.

"I think she is inside." They opened the door and entered a scene of slaughter. There were four corpses on the floor, three men and one woman. They had all been stabbed to death. A girl, no older than fourteen, was crouching against a nearby wall, weeping hysterically. Jenna stood near her, trying to calm her down, as Bob and Billy checked the rest of the inn.

"Empty," Bob said.

"The scent track also ends here," Jenna said, gently touching the head of the girl, who shivered as if she had a fever.

"Shhh, there," Jenna gently said, as her spirit touched hers, calming her down and lulling her into sleep. Bob felt Jenna's powerful thoughts grasp his and Billy's minds and carry them into her own. Suddenly, he was no longer Bob. He was a floating presence, hovering over the ground, watching as a young girl climbed down from a coach and walked towards the inn. The presence approached the girl invisibly, like a drifting ghost, and fused with her.

Rose swept the murky floor, trying to make the abandoned inn presentable. She had been working at the Briar Inn, ten miles north of here, when the owner told her that his brother and his wife were trying to reopen the old inn at one of the reclamation points. The pay was much better, as Balance partly funded the effort. Bunno, her old boss, had a high opinion of her and thought she could be a great help. She accepted and reached her destination on the weekly coach two days ago.

They were the first inhabitants of the new village, but many more were expected to come. Her first shock came when she met her new employers. They were not the mature couple she expected, but their three sons and the wife of one of them. She was informed that the couple was currently working on yet another new inn on another reclamation point. She would work under their command until they returned.

The sons were lazy oafs, not bothered at all about making a fourteen-year-old do all the hard work, while they drank or played dice. The wife was no better, a pretty twenty-something with cold eyes and a mocking smile, who did not even pretend to try to learn her name. She had worked like a beast of burden for sixteen straight hours. She was done. She was clearly going back to the city on the next coach, and then she would have some words with Bunno. Then the stranger came.

A tall, athletic woman with gray eyes, as beautiful and grim as a dirge. Palla, the wife, went to take her order while Rose kept cleaning the floor. The stranger spared one bored glance at her and another at the three brothers, who were watching her from a nearby table, making comments and laughing coarsely.

"These guys have no idea at all of how to run an inn," Rose thought. Then, something happened. The stranger gestured to Palla and talked softly to her. Only Rose and Palla could hear what she had to say; the three brothers were too far away.

"Tell me, is the roast chicken any good. If it is, I might consider spending the night here. I could do with a good dinner and a soft bed."

"You will find no better chicken in a hundred leagues, honey," Palla told her, smiling her cold, insincere smile.

"A pity," the stranger said.

"I really, really hoped it would be bad." Then she cut Palla's throat. The brothers stared stupidly at her. Then they charged her. She turned at the last possible instant, her knife still in her hand. She cut their throats in one single, expert movement. All three at once. Rose closed her eyes and crouched against the wall, trying to unsee what she had seen. The woman knelt next to her and spoke. Her voice was strangely gentle.

"People are coming. You will be safe with them. Safer than with me." Then she left. Bob sighed as the memory ended.

"What are you going to do with her? She needs help," he asked Jenna.

"I have already removed the memory. She will remember nothing when she wakes up, and she will be better for it," Jenna answered.

"I think you should consult her on that," Billy said, clearly worried.

"That is what Brinkman would have said," Jenna answered." Trauma is also a learning experience. It can teach you a lot, I can almost hear him." She turned around and faced Billy, a serious expression on her face.

"Assholes like him are incredibly stoic with other people's suffering. Never with their own. If I can spare a fourteen-year-old an experience like this, I will. And if doing so makes me a worse person, to hell with it. There are lessons not worth learning." They gently carried Rose's sleeping body as they walked back to the farmers. They had already chosen the best-kept houses and were surveying the surrounding terrain. Doran looked happy and relaxed for the first time since they had met him.

He was expertly inspecting one of the doors.

"The houses need a little work. Some of the wood will have to be replaced, but the land is good, and there are plenty of usable homes still standing, as well as farming equipment. We can make this work," he told them, a huge smile on his face.

"Who is that?" he asked, noticing Rose for the first time.

"She is going to be confused when she wakes up," Jenna told him as she gently placed her on a nearby couch.

"Try to be gentle with her." Doran's wife went to her, a look of worry on her face. The Losers went outside. It was a clear, winter night, with a full moon in the sky. It was somewhat smaller than Earth's, but much brighter.

"I have lost Dawn's track. She knew we were coming after her, don't ask me how. She even warned Rose about us," Jenna told them.

"What is she playing at?" Bob said, feeling incredibly frustrated.

"She first has us rescuing people in danger and taking them to safety. I thought she was a pretty decent person by now. Then she pulls a Ted Bundy. Does she really want us to help anyone? Is she just testing how we will react?"

"Add one question to that, Bob. By helping these people, have we passed or failed the test?" Jenna asked.

"For all we know, she could be worse than the Coven."