Page 16 of Feathers and Thorns

Eight, long wooden tables were laid out in a grid-like formation across the stone floor. On each table lay a body, all different shapes and sizes, covered in thin, white sheets. Wooden buckets lined the wall on the far end, filled with red liquid and indecipherable shapes. Soren knew better than to look at what they might contain.

One of the sheets to her right shifted, and her breath caught in her throat. Eyes wide, she stared at the white cloth, waiting for it to move again. She sighed in relief when the body remained still, though the more she looked, the more the shape became one she recognized.

She moved closer to the table on silent feet, her heart hammering as though it were trying to forge a blade to protect her from what lay beneath. She reached forward with a shaking hand, her legs prepared to run, and slid the sheet off.

Her hand slammed to her mouth as she stifled a cry, not wanting to wake the dead. The fabric pooled at her feet like a pond of melted moonlight.

On the wooden slab, in nothing but a singular garment for modesty, was her father’s body.

Tarak Nightsong looked as he had the last time she had seen him—brown hair, glistening against golden skin, and the mustache he’d favored in his older years peppered with specks of white. He looked peaceful, a serene image of how he should have been laid to rest.

Tears welled in her eyes as Soren reached forward to brush a lock of his hair when his golden-brown eyes suddenly opened.

The movement caused her to jump back, but then her heart rate slowed as her father sat up and gave her a lazy smile.

“Come here, my sweet girl,” he said, swinging his legs to the floor and holding his hand out.

“Daddy?” The word snagged on the lump in her throat.

Though every sane part of her knew it was a bad idea, she couldn’t stop herself from running into his arms. He felt the same as he always had—strong and sure. He smelled of spice, and parchment, and home. She wanted to nestle herself in the safety and warmth of his arms and never wake up.

They separated, and he squeezed her shoulders, giving her a smile.

“Daddy?” she said again as he wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“I hope you know how proud of you I am,” he said.

“I just wish you would have told me,” was her reply.

He gave her a sad smile and nodded. “There are so many things I would have done differently. I’m so sorry, my sweet girl.”

She hugged him again, not caring about the mistakes of the past. “I love you tons, Daddy.”

“I love you tons, too.”

She took a step back to look at him again, wanting to soak in every last line of his face. However, something was wrong. His skin had gone pale and sickly. Then she watched in horror as his hair began to fall out in dark chunks and talon marks oozing black ichor appeared all over his body. He tried to speak again, but coagulated blood and black foam choked out his sentiment.

She stepped back, but her bare feet caught in the fabric of the sheet, causing her to crash to the floor. She landed hard on her tail bone, pain screeching up her spine as she looked up at her father’s decaying body.

He was reaching out for her, and she gagged as his skin started to rot and putrefy. She pushed up off the ground, backing away as the dead skin, muscle, and sinew sloughed off in pieces to the floor. Soon, there would be nothing left.

A scream ripped from her throat as strange hands grabbed her shoulders from behind.

Her horror mounted when she turned to see a sheet-covered body at her back. She batted away the hands and ducked out of its grip, now noticing that the rest of the bodies were standing at attention.

The remaining sheets fell one by one to reveal the decaying bodies of her friends and loved ones. Baz, Enara, Celandine, Alondra, Laraline, and even Jai reached out to her with gnarled fingers. She shook her head, inching along the wall to the doorway, not able to take her eyes off of them.

A voice broke from the body to her right. It was larger than the rest, and she cowered against the stone as the sheet fell.

Adriel stood in all his perfected glory, a satisfied smirk on his face. “This is what will become of your heroics,” he said. “Everyone you know and love will be dead, and the fault will be none but your own.”

Soren shook her head, panic rising in her already clogged throat. She didn’t know if she was going to sob or vomit. Before he could say anything more, she turned and ran up the stairs.

Her tears blinded her as she ran down the hall, toward the city watch’s front door. She could still taste the decay, and bile rose in her throat. She dared a look back to see if the corpses had followed her, but the hallway remained empty. However, she could hear Adriel’s sick laughter rise through the floorboards.

She was nearly knocked out when she ran into another body, this one blocking her exit. She screamed, and punched, and kicked as hard as she could, but the arms held fast. She could feel its breath hot on her ear as she tried to push out of its grasp.

“Breathe, Soren.”

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