The Sharded Blade | Part 1 (A Dark Fantasy Novella)

Part 7

Short and thin, the intruder was a ghost of a human being.  Very similar to myself in that latter aspect. In her haste to seek refuge from the storm, the waif stumbled over the threshold, leaving the door to bang behind her in rhythmic thrums upon the howling wind.

Not more than thirty feet away, she didn't see me in the consuming darkness. The fire I'd used for my dinner wasn't so brilliant that it made me stand out.

Like a jealous lover, Gertrude screeched her disapproval at the trespasser infringing upon our cozy little home.  I admit, it was good to see her upset at someone else other than me for a change.

Responding to the eerie noises, the girl backed up against the door, almost falling back through the unsecured opening and once more into the night. Not any older than her mid-teens, she was a muddled mess of matted brown hair and waterlogged clothes.  Couldn't even tell much about her beyond that because of the turmoil her appearance was in.

"Get out," I said.

"Puh-please good spirits," the child replied. "Just for the night.  Then I will leave you in peace."

"Ain't no spirits here, little girl." There was the slightest chuckle to my words as I stood.

Her eyes darted around, perplexed at my voice that probably seemed disembodied and without a worldly source.  As I came out of the shadows beside the hearth, my appearance forced a silent gasp to rush out of her.

Thunder cracked from the storm.  "Please!" She quivered there, hands covering her face as she slid down to the floor.  The girl flopped like a duffle of discarded laundry. "I'm not ready to die!  Don't take me yet, Lord Kaflas!"

In my long cloak and with my cowl pulled up, I supposed I might have looked like something from her nightmares.  This Lord Kaflas she spoke of was one of the death gods the locals worshiped.  Perhaps worshiped was the wrong word.  More like cowered before, presenting up offerings to ward off his wrath.  However, any resemblance was purely accidental, not something I strived to attain.

"I'm not death," I replied.  "At least," I corrected, "not for you.  Unless you piss me off by continuing to stand there."

Gertrude shook the water from her soaked fur, continuing to hiss.

Our unwelcome guest put her hands down.  "Just the night.  That's all I ask, sir."

"The inn is closed," I joked.  "Besides, my pet," I motioned to the red eyes hovering in the dark, "doesn't seem to like you."

Not that she liked me either.  But that was beside the point.

"Please, they're after me."

My eyebrow went up as she spilled the details about her plight.  "Who?"  Her words forced me to stare down Gertrude.  The rat, in turn, was solely fixated on the girl.

It was at that point I noticed the deep red imprints encircling her wrists, the pattern reminiscent of the spiraling twirl from a fine hemp rope.  She'd been tied up recently and tied up good.  There were similar marks around her neck where the skin had become so purple it could have been black.

Despite my question, the girl didn't answer me.

I took a step towards her, towering above her, pressing for the information.  "Who is after you?"

"Five men.  They... they kidnapped me."

Five?  I was already taking mental stock of the shards left in my blade.  Would I be so lucky for Gertrude to see things my way?  Would the rat allow me to seek out the scum who had taken this girl to help pay my debt?  The only downside was, this girl and her current state of being very much alive.  But come on, should that really matter?  My mind was in overdrive seeking justification for being granted this one request.

Reaching around the child, she flinched, but I only wanted to secure the door.  It was still making far too much noise for my liking.  Then I spun away and returned to the fire, desperate to seek warmth from the chill of undying compounded by the rain.  It was hard to find a place to stand where there wasn't a rivulet of water beating on me at this point.

Gertrude only hissed again.  This girl's presence agitated her on a primal level.  More so than seemed warranted.  She was just a girl, after all.

The rain wasn't even bothering me so much anymore, only now noticing that I was standing in a small but constant stream of water falling through a floorboard that to me was part of the ceiling.  I was more focused on the number five.

Gertrude looked at me and continued making flustered chitters.  She punctuated her sentence with a hiss unlike any other she had ever given.  It was warning, threatening on a level I had never witnessed.  And for what?  This girl?

I pleaded with the rat, ignoring her consternation. "Is she innocent enough to qualify?  Dead or not?"

The girl stared back, more confused than before.

Retreating, Gertrude scampered into the darkness.  Only her eyes could be seen, red and angry... perhaps afraid? 

That's what it was. The rat feared this girl.  That meant I liked her, and liked her a lot.

And then, like that, just as I turned to offer the girl a place by the fire, she faded away into nothing.