Media: The bottle

Music: The Four Horsemen by Audiomachine

****

CHAPTER THREE

Cadence woke up with a horrible backache. Groaning, she latched onto her bedpost for support and rose into a sitting position. The first thing that popped into her mind was her usual routine of picking out Khazaria's outfits and then preparing for a hot bath, but the rough blanket, creaky bed, and darkness reminded her it was the weekend.

She cheered mentally, then shivered.

The fire must have gone out in the middle of the night. She cursed the cold, got to her feet, and went toward the hearth.

Her brother was curled up in a blanket, his body a thin, silver silhouette. Cole liked to sleep in during the weekends. Given her job, Cadence couldn't sleep past six chimes. Khazaria flew into a rage if she got her breakfast late or her bath water was even a few degrees cooler than she liked. For five years, she had trained herself to rise before the sun broke through the mountains. It was now a ritual.

Cole had melted a bucket of snow and left it at the other side of the kitchen. Being careful not to make excessive noises, she retrieved a basin of water from the bucket to wash her face and hands, then another for her father.

She crouched in front of the fireplace. A few pieces of dry wood and a few strikes of flint against stone revived the embers. Warmth rolled over her instantly in gentle waves. She spread her fingers before the heat, letting it seep into her bones.

Cadence touched the scars on her hands—scars from Khazaria's nails and handling hot utensils. While hers were covered in scars and burns, Cole's were covered with calluses and nicks.

The price to pay for food and medicine. Cadence heated the basin of water and made sure it was lukewarm before she went to give her father his morning shower.

The curtains in her father's bedroom were drawn, allowing the beginnings of the morning to stream through.

"Morning, Papa," Cadence said.

Her father snorted as he woke. "Morning, shezinka."

Shezinka. Her father loved to call her that, although she had stressed about a thousand times she was nothing like a snowflake, and she hated the cold. The cold made her work more miserable than usual, also hurting her knee where she had injured it when Khazaria pushed her down the stairs two years ago.

She kept one of her hands beneath her father's back and the other on his chest. Slowly, she raised him into a sitting position and wedged the pillow behind him.

Her father stank of morning breath and sweat. Cadence removed his shirt, dunked the cloth into the basin, wrung it dry, and wiped his back and chest.

While Cadence cleaned her father, he was taciturn, staring at the wall. Cadence, however, looked out of the window where the trees outside stretched for a while before blending into darkness.

"You know, shezinka," he finally said after Cadence dried him and put his shirt back on. "Maybe you should consider getting married. You're eighteen now, most girls your age already have their own families. There should be some decent men in the Orelik Mansion. Tie the knot, settle down, don't let me weigh down your life. Your brother could join the Kesatria, put his talents to use. It's about time he stops dodging that damn draft."

He's dodging the draft so he can work and pay for your medicine, Papa. Bastards don't get paid in the army.

Cadence set the basin on the nightstand with a clatter. "I don't want to get married, Papa. You've seen what marriage does to a girl. They lose their freedom, their independence, and they spend the rest of their lives looking after children of men they don't even love. As for Cole, becoming a Kesatria is like signing away his life. You should know Warriors have only one fate, and that is war."

"Do you have freedom now?" her father said softly.

She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

"I'll get you something to eat." She rose, water sloshing against her forearms as she gathered up the basin. "Cole will be up soon. If you need him, just shout."

"This isn't life, Cady," her father continued, but he started to cough. "You and I know I will not survive this winter."

He coughed again, this time more violently than before.

"Once I finish my shift next week, we will have the money to pay for a witch-doctor," Cadence promised. "You'll be fine."

Heading toward to kitchen, Cadence fought the storm within her. She set down the basin and gripped the counter, trying to transfer some of her frustration into the stone. Papa never said things like that. He was the one who taught them to be positive no matter the situation. She and Cole had worked so hard for his medicine, and now he just wanted to surrender his life to the Dewas?

If only I was Varya. The ache within her grew bigger and bigger, digging a hole in her heart. If she was Varya, she wouldn't have to work as a handmaiden. If she had inherited her father's Affinities, just like her brother had, they could find work elsewhere, move to Eyria where the Varya weren't forced to join the army. Instead, she was ordinary, just like her mother. Frosts, she never even knew her mother. She had died during childbirth. Somehow, although her father had told her repeatedly it wasn't her fault, Cadence felt she was the one who killed her mother.

Perhaps, if her mother had lived, their lives would have been different. She had tried imagining what their mother looked like. An older version of her, perhaps. Sometimes, when their father was drunk, he told them about how wonderful their mother was. "She had the most beautiful gray eyes and the brightest smile," he would say. "Not even the sun could rival her when she smiled."

Without realizing it, Cadence touched her brittle hair, hair that would break into pieces if she tried combing.

Her father coughed again, and her heart sank. They would never be able to amass enough money to pay for medicine, rent, food, and a Mujarab. Cole would play optimistic with her, but deep down, Cadence was certain he knew the truth, and it was crippling.

A small voice popped into her head.

Ah, what about your father? I can make him well again. Give him new legs and a brand new spine. He won't have to suffer again. Isn't that a good deal?

Cadence gritted her teeth and tried to force the thought away.

Imagine this, no more pain, no more struggling to make ends meet. Do you want to be a servant girl for the rest of your life? What about that beautiful cabin by the lake? Isn't that what you've always wanted? A life far away from the games nobles play, a place where you don't have to worry about your next meal, or even that your family carries bastard blood. That sounds blissful.

She found herself walking toward her father's bedroom. Through the crack in the door, she saw her father press a piece of bloody cloth against his mouth.

This isn't life, Cady. You and I know I won't survive the winter.

Cadence yanked her cloak off the hanger, put on her shoes, and went outside. It seemed colder than usual. Maybe the Dewas were shaking their heads at her, telling her to turn back. Her breath froze, as did her insides.

It's worth a shot, she reassured herself. If I make my conditions very clear, even an evil spirit wouldn't be able to twist its way out of it.

Making sure the lock slid soundlessly back against the door, Cadence pulled up her hood and left.

*****

Cadence was blocked by a guard stationed at the back door.

The guard was a burly man with facial hair that covered almost his entire face, giving off the impression of a grizzly. Cadence had seen him several times before, but she never inquired his name.

"Hello." She gave him a dazzling smile.

"Whatchu doing here?" The guard blinked. "What do you want?"

"Oh, I forgot my bundle. My father's medicine is inside, he's sick. I can't afford to pay for another dose, and he needs it badly..."

Cadence allowed her sentence to trail off. She let her head fall and twisted her fingers together. That should be enough to give her a desperate look. She was already small in stature, but the bow of the head and the uncertainty of her gestures would make her appear even more helpless. If playing pitiful didn't work, she would try to seduce him. The women in local plays did that, and seemed to work.

The guard grunted and moved aside. "Be quick."

"Thank you." Cadence released the breath she didn't know she was holding and ran through the ornate wooden door.

The library doors were open, thank the Dewas. As quick as a butter-footed ferret, she slipped in. It was around six chimes in the morning, the librarian was probably still dreaming about scrolls and books. She grabbed a torch off the wall and held it aloft, scanning the crates and shelves with its unsteady light.

"Polong," she whispered. Her voice quavered. She took a deep breath and continued. "Are you there?"

A green glow emanated from the third row of shelves.

"I knew you would return," it said smugly. "So, do we have a deal?"

"Depends on the deal." Cadence picked her way through the sea of crates until she reached the shelf where the light pulsated.

It wasn't a fancy-looking bottle, nothing like the perfume bottles Khazaria owned. Khazaria's were made from imported Balktesh glass, its stoppers rubies the size of eggs. This was simple green glass with a metal cork. The Polong trapped inside was shaped like a shriveled kidney bean, curled up and pulsing green.

"Here's my offer," the Polong said. "You set me free, and I will grant you one wish.

"You will heal my father's spine, you will see that he walks again, and there will not be any consequences. You will not go back on your deal, and you will not find any way to sneak other clauses into the deal.

"I'm not that evil." The Polong's light glowed even brighter, as if it was stifling a laugh.

Cadence grabbed the bottle and shook it with as much force her thin arms allowed her to.

"Alright, alright!" the Polong cried out. "I promise you your father will no longer be bound to his bed, and all his pain be taken away. You have my word."

"How will I know you've upheld your part of the bargain?" She stopped shaking the bottle, but the bean-shaped creature continued swirling around in mad circles.

"The moment you set me free."

"What do I need to do?"

Sweat gathered in her palms and a coldness crept up her spine. As she turned the bottle in her hands, the small line of runes around the bottle's neck gleamed. She had never seen such runes before. The Oracles runes were squarish, as if cut from blocks of marble with crisscrossing lines to differentiate the alphabets. The runes on the bottle's neck were roundish, somewhat older.

Was it the Polong's powers that caused her to feel nauseated? Her father would kill her if he found out she had struck a deal with a Polong. But if it meant the end of her father's pain, her brother's toil, and brought her freedom, it was worth it. She would no longer have to work for Khazaria or becoming someone's mistress just to support her family.

"Say the words after me," the Polong said. "It will counter the magic etched onto the bottle."

Cadence took the bottle with both hands. The bottle was so light, it could be mistaken for an empty one.

"Rukah maliso fevra," the Polong recited.

"Rukah maliso fevra," Cadence repeated.

"Maliso gaka, nirkada goyem."

Cadence said the words, feeling sicker and sicker. Her stomach burned. The green bean inside the bottle started to twitch.

The Polong's voice rose into a scream. Cadence screamed with it.

"Bebas!"

The runes on the bottle's neck winked twice and faded.

Fear seized Cadence.

No, I don't want to do this. I take it back, I take it back!

A cold hand gripped hers and forced her fingers to pry the stopper from the bottle. A deep mourning wail swept through the room as the bottle trembled. The glass grew hotter and hotter until it reached scalding levels.

Cadence dropped the bottle, blisters forming on her fingers. The bottle fell and hit the ground, but it did not break. Instead, a thick, viscous green liquid spilled from the mouth and slithered toward the stairs.

A powerful gust of wind tore the entire library apart. Racks quaked, books flew, papers and maps were torn out from their original shelves. Bottles shook and smashed onto the ground. Some remained intact, most broke. Whatever the bottles held poured out in thick, murky liquid before solidifying into ugly creatures Cadence had never seen before.

Tentacles whipped out from the green goo, and the smell of rotten eggs slapped her in the face. Smoky, serpentine creatures shook their heads as they rose, massive jaws snapping, forked tongue flickering.

The Polong's cackle reverberated through the library.

"I'm free!"

The mass of goo and smoke rose, ballooning out like an inflated octopus. Books zoomed over her head, papers were scattered into the air. One after another, bookshelves toppled like dominoes. The smell of burning paper engulfed the air. It filled her lungs, choking her. Everything smelled like death.

Boom. Crash. BOOM!

Cadence did the only logical thing. She ran.

This was a mistake!

Tiles tore off from the ground, planks fell from the ceiling. Cadence lunged for the door, rushed out and grabbed the handle. She threw her entire weight onto it, pushing the door back into place with a violent jolt.

An ear-shattering bellow shook the ground and rattled the doors. With her back pressed against the doors, she could feel the tremors jolting through the panes and up to her heart.

She looked up and saw Khazaria walking toward the library with a towel in her hand. The bruise on her face had swelled twice its size.

Khazaria narrowed her eyes.

"Why are you here?" she demanded. "I dismissed you."

"I-" Cadence stopped short. What would she tell Khazaria? That she was barricading the doors with her body to prevent a malevolent spirit from breaking free?

An explosion shook the mansion. This time, Khazaria felt it too.

"What in the name of the Dewas?" She shoved Cadence aside and threw the library doors open.

An explosion threw the both of them backward. Cadence skidded across the floor and banged her head against the wall.

Stars burst in front of her eyes. She shook her head, struggling to orient herself.

When her vision finally focused, the putrid green smoke had crept out of the library, assuming multiple inhuman shapes with claws and horns.

Khazaria whipped her head around, eyes wide and terrified.

"What have you done?"

She lunged at Cadence, but a tendril of the green smoke wrapped itself around Khazaria's feet and ripped her into its evergrowing mass. Khazaria didn't even have the time to scream; she was gone.

Dewa Radek, help me!

Fear gave Cadence strength. Heart in her mouth, sweat running down her face, she ran.

The putrid green wave hit the corridors, smashing everything into rubble. The few footmen who were caught in the green wave screamed as the wave devoured them alive, their screams cut off into abrupt silence.

The back door was right in front of her. The two Murka guards by the door didn't stop Cadence from running. Instead, they pulled the door open and fled. Cadence dove face-first into the snow as an enormous explosion shook the mansion, green smoke billowing out from the ruined roofs.

She clapped her hands over her ears, trying to block the short-lived screams of the terrified servants and nobles who could not run away from the green, smoky monsters. The metallic smell of blood splattered the air. Cadence scrambled to her feet and continued running.

Even when she was miles away from the mansion, forcing her frozen feet to carry her home, the guilt and the weight of what she had done followed her and crushed her from above.