Page 61 of Anathema

Moros held up the vial of stones he’d taken out at the brunch. The seemingly innocuous brunch that had given little insight into the horror I faced. “It seems, when consumed, the stones have the ability to alter bones and flesh. What was once the good and proper captain is now a flesh-eating animal.”

Every nerve in my body flared with terror, as he rounded me.

“You see, I may be a monster, but I can also be quite protective of you, my delicate little rose.” He brushed a lock of hair from my shoulder, my body so wound with shock, I hardly noticed the proximity of his lips to my neck, until he whispered, “Come. It’s almost time for your sister’s banishing.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

MAEVYTH

There were stages of trauma, as I’d come to learn, and I’d moved beyond anger to a feeling of utter hopelessness.

A bitter cold clenched my muscles, as I lay trembling on the bed in one of the rooms Mr. Moros had assigned to me. Lingering ripples of shock kept my body in a constant state of tension, and every time my mind wound back to visions of Aleysia getting dragged away, fresh panic bloomed in my chest. I taunted myself into imagining what they’d do to her. The fear and uncertainty she must’ve felt, facing those terrifying men alone, as they scrutinized and passed judgment on her. At the very least, I’d have held her hand through it all. Let her know that she was not alone.

Through the window, I watched the sun descend in a fiery blaze of pinks and oranges that, on any other day, I’d have found beautiful.

It wasn’t long now.

While some banishings took place during the day, the majority happened at night.

Aleysia hated the dark.

The very thought of her wandering those woods at night had my muscles bound in knots. My circumstances were no better, though. Moros had also proven to be just as much a monster as whatever dwelled in those woods.

An image of mermaids flashed through my head, and I winced, shuddering a breath. My thoughts pulled me into dark corners, where Moros’s victims reached out at me, dragging me into the hell of their minds.

“He’ll hurt you, too.” A thick, accented voice sliced through my menagerie of thoughts, and I sucked in a sharp inhale, backing myself into the headboard of the bed.

A sweep of the surroundings showed Danyra, the Lyverian girl he’d killed, sitting in a rocking chair at the shadowy corner of the room. Her pale, naked skin illuminated the deep, blackened stitches of her embalming that ran just above her collarbone and below her bare breasts.

White, cloudy eyes stared off, unfocused, the sight of them sending a chill up the back of my neck. “You must escape. You and your sister.”

Every muscle in my body quivered, my jaw stiff and aching. “Th-th-there’s nowhere to r-r-r-un.”

She stopped rocking in the chair. Eyes still fixed away from me, she pushed to her feet and padded slowly toward the bed, until standing at the foot of it. “Witch,” she rasped. “Witch. Witch. Witch.”

I pressed myself against the headboard, until my spine tingled with the pressure.

She held up her palm. As if carved by a blade, a symbol appeared to have been etched there. A vertical line with multiple intersecting lines that reminded me of a spine, behind which glowed a silvery light. “Witch. Witch. Witch.” Her body twitched as she placed her palms against the bed and gave one last whispered, “Witch.”

She scrambled toward me.

I jolted upright on a sharp breath, eyes scanning the darkened room. My muscles jerked as I took in the empty chair in the corner, where she’d sat a moment ago. Nothing but a towering armoire, a wash basin on a dresser, a nightstand and lamp beside the bed.

No sign of Danyra.

I released a shuddering breath, recalling the last few moments of what must’ve been a dream. The symbol on her hand had seared itself into my mind, though. What could it have possibly meant?

As I took a moment to ponder, reality poured in. My sister. The Banishing.

The doorknob clicked, and I lifted my hand to shield my eyes from the light spilling into the room. Shireen, Moros’s servant, stood in the doorway. “It’s time, Miss.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

MAEVYTH

Dusk had fallen, the dark blue sky lit by the many torches that flickered around the entrance of The Eating Woods. Tears slipped down my cheeks as I stood beside Moros, my mind spinning out a desperate plan for my and Aleysia’s escape.

Even if we’d be hunted, it was better than what either of us faced otherwise. We could flee to the mountains. As far as Romisir in the north. Anywhere but here. Through a mess of red robes, four village men brought my sister before the archway, and on a breath of pure rage, I looked away from her. Stripped of all her clothes, she stood naked before the parish, her body bruised with beatings, her long blonde locks shorn away.

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