His laugh died. “Well, uh, would that be all?”
She waved a hand to silence him and stared at the paper. She’d never make it to the Mutual Lands before the day died, but signing up for a job with death-strings attached and a good chance the ‘training’ was actually babysitting in disguise was downright repugnant.
Her gut clenched. Apparently, she was to take it anyway.
Muttering under her breath, she reached up to her longer pigtail, grasped a hair strand, and yanked. The bartender quickly backed away, the men closest to her doing the same. Tavk’s Servants could do a lot with that much hair. She, though, simply wrapped the strand around her finger, pressed it to her scar, and touched the paper. The hair strand quivered and melted through her finger to ooze onto the paper like pale ink. Darkening, the inkish strand twisted and curved around itself before stretching outward. She leaned forward, curious as to what name it would sign—what identity she’d be using this time.
Two overly calligraphized letters morphed into view: Ki.
She grimaced. The Mutual Lands were overly picky about proper documentation—a name like that would never pass. Apparently Tavk didn’t think this mission was annoying enough. Sometimes she was sure Tavk had only agreed to help her in order to have a willing slave to play with.
When the two letters finally stopped adding more frills and twirls—as if that would hide the lack of more letters—she rolled the paper up and stuffed it into her bag.
“How much?” Her question startled the bartender; he’d been fascinated by the overdone signature. When he blinked stupidly at her, she gestured to the bowl and then pointed to her hair. “How much?”
His eyes shot wide and he frantically waved his hand. “No, no. No need. You’re fine.”
“I ate. I will pay.” She refused to be like the other Servants who’d eat their fill, smash the place up, and then leave with contempt as if their victims owed them. Despite being a Servant of Tavk, the ruling god of the Fallen Lands, she’d still respect others. She wasn’t a monster.
He flapped his jaw for a moment, obviously terrified to contradict her. “Uh, how about a coin? From the Rising Lands?”
She grimaced. She’d rather pay with hair. Scrounging around her bag, she pulled out her last Rising coin. She hesitated, a sense of nostalgia rising within her. But she’d never return to those lands again. Two of the gods there wanted her dead. No, beyond dead. Annihilated, both soul and body.
She tossed the coin to the bartender. He caught it with one hand and pocketed it somewhere beneath his massive apron.
Her gut clenched again. Time to go. At least she got to eat this time.
Scooting the chair back, she dragged herself to her tired feet. The bartender scuttled to his bar as though she’d chase him down to reclaim her coin. A useless worry since her gut kept clenching; Tavk still wanted her to hurry. As to why, she had no idea. She had already signed the job—with a dumb name, no less. It wasn’t like she could lose the position by being late.
Annoyed, she hurried out of the room and down the short tunnel. Not bothering to shut the door behind her, she used the faint firelight to navigate the steps again. Once she reached the slabs of wood covering the entrance, she repeated her earlier spell and scrambled out before releasing the dirt to resume its former position.
Stale wind greeted her as she stared at the barren land surrounding her. Not a sign of life in any direction, and the never-ending twilight made the area even bleaker. She was glad the job would take her out of the Fallen Lands. Though if she had to walk the entire way—the very thought doubled her exhaustion. She’d rather drop right there and sleep for a week. If Tavk was in such a rush for her to get there, then he could at least provide a faster route than her two feet.
As if on cue, creaking wheels summoned her eyes to the abandoned wagon swaying in the wind. She thinned her lips in annoyance. The wagon was pulled by nothing and the demon long gone. And she refused to push it.
Still, the wagon would be more comfortable to sleep in than the dry, dusty ground.
Cheered by the thought, she wandered toward it and hoisted herself up to the front seat. The instant she settled in, the wind howled and the wagon lurched forward like a rocket. She gripped the seat with both hands to refrain from being thrown out.
“Finally you’re nice,” she muttered. “Though making me take a babysitting job…” She poked her scar as though to poke her god. “This had better be worth something. And I don’t count you finding it funny as worth it.” She poked her scar again. When it didn’t do anything—not that she expected a response—she dropped down and wedged herself between the seat and the edge of the wagon. Once she was secure, she relaxed and closed her eyes, determined to get some rest. Reaching the edge of the Fallen Lands from this town probably would take a good two or three days.
Tavk got her there in one.
End of Chapter 1
Read the rest of THE WANTED CHILD at:
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sending...
She must train the boy destined to kill her.
He must prove his birth wasn't a mistake.
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She is reformed! (when not losing, that is...)
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