Hello all, we’re on day three of the #OctoberFrights Blog Hop. Can you believe we’re getting ever closer to Halloween? It doesn’t seem like it. Although the cooler weather here in NC is nice.
Today’s blog is the first chapter of my newest book I’ve sent off to my publisher called Mist & Bone.
Mist & Bone is the second book in my Forest of Bones Universe.
The heroine, Zieka, is a healer. She treats anyone who comes her way. One day a bloodied knight comes knocking on her door looking for treatment of his companion. Little does she know, these men are being pursed by a small band of mercenaries and want Zieka to turn over the wounded to them to pay for their supposed crimes.
Now I’ve self-edited it, so you have to forgive any typos.
Mist & Bone – Chapter One
Mist meandered through the trees hugging their large trunks. The sweet honey fragrance of the vigata flowers lingered in the air. She reached overhead and plucked another full bloom. Thick ropy vines wrapped around tree branches and cascaded down around her like a waterfall of flowers. She added it to her basket. Above her a crimson sun lit up the sky. A tune her mother used to sing echoed through the clearing. She stopped gathering the flowers and turned toward the direction of the melody. Someone else lingered in the fog. She strained to see who might be hiding in the clearing with her. Tendrils of vapor slithered up the trees hugging their trunks like forgotten lovers. They broke away from the trunks to form an archway. A shady feminine form stood within the gateway. This strange woman reached out to her. She dropped her basket of flowers and stepped toward the figure, entranced by the tune, until the refrain stopped. Another tentacle of the haze enveloped her ankle and tugged. She lost her footing and tottered toward the ground. She put up her hands to catch her fall, but before she hit it….
“Zieka.”
The pounding on the door drew her from her web of dreams. It took her a moment to come back from the dreamtime glade and find herself in bed and not on the hard ground. The melodic lullaby lingered. Zieka pushed the familiar night vision away. Nothing about the recurring dream surprised her. The strange woman had plagued her nights off and on for years. She swiped sleep from her eyes and glanced around her small home. The faint red glow of the remaining coals in the hearth helped to orient her. A chill lingered in the damp fall air. She rubbed her arms and pushed the dust of her recurring nightmare away. She pushed her brown hair from her face and tied it back with a scrap of cloth. The door shook again forcing her to fetch a shawl. She threw the worn wrap around her shoulders to ward off the cold.
“Zieka.”
“I’m coming,” she muttered. She cracked the door open and stared into the desperate green eyes of a man dressed in leather armor. Streaks of mud lined his face. Dried blood matted his hair and trickled from a wound at his temple. “What do you want?”
“My…companion. He’s injured and requires your skills. Please, Zieka. You must help.”
She opened the door wider to inspect the man. His armor was as dirty as his face was bloody. He held his side and winced as he shifted his weight. Another form lay behind him. The soldier’s desperation beat against her the way he had hammered on her door.
“We have gold. Please,” he entreated her, “they’re not far behind.” The baying of hounds echoed off the trees and through the narrow path which led to her home. Fog wisps wrapped around the trees, creeping closer to the clearing where her house was situated. She glanced at the sky and the sun flashed red again as though she remained in her dream. The dogs’ howls came again and reminded her she was awake. If the man remained beyond her walls, the vapor would consume him.
Closer.
Zieka threw the shawl off and pushed past the man on her doorstep. “Come, help me get him inside.”
The man limped along the footpath toward the entrance. Morning rain had darkened the protective symbols etched into the pillars of her gate. She spent many an hour boring into the stone to keep the unwanted from passing into her property. The yelping of canines drew nearer. Shadows within the fog rode the vapor to the outskirts of the wood. The weight of their presence pressed upon her as they lingered within the haze. Waiting. The wet scent of rot twitched her nose. She glanced over to the woodland. The dim roiled closer to the edge of the dell drawn toward the scent of fresh blood.
Zieka tried to grip the wounded man, but the slippery blood made it tricky to get a hold of him. The other slung his comrade’s arm around his neck. The burden of his added weight bogged her down. They slogged the fallen soldier toward the perimeter of her property. Based on all the blood seeping from the man, she didn’t suspect he would live. As her fingers brushed along his arm, the stirrings of her power yearned to search out his many injuries and heal them. She pushed her gift away to get him inside of her hut. Zieka grunted as the man slid down from her grip. She grabbed a long his belt. The dogs howled once more. Behind them came the thunder of hooves. An arrow whizzed by her and landed at her feet. The soldier, who banged on the door, grunted and collapsed to the ground. Another shaft flew by her side. The man in her arms moaned. One last pull got him through the gate and onto her property.
Zieka eased him down against a stump, shook her arms from the release of his dead weight, and took a breath. Hounds raced into the clearing she assumed chasing the smell of the man slumped against the cragged stump. The fog followed the cacophony of hooves corralling the horses into the meadow before her house. Riders halted on the outskirts of her land. The dogs cowered and huddled around the mounts as the vapor encircled the riding party.
The head rider dismounted. He poked the fallen soldier with his boot. When he didn’t stir, the man turned toward her. Zieka didn’t break his gaze. Over the years she had encountered others like him, but his try at intimidation did nothing to sway her. Two men in his company leveled their crossbows at her. The wounded man by the stump groaned. The dogs whimpered as the haze inched closer to the riders. The horses paced nervously drawing closer to her house.
“Give us the murder, and we’ll leave you in peace,” their leader demanded. His red hair glinted in the sunlight. His grip tightened on the pommel of his sword. The design of a winged beast glared at her from his leather breastplate. The workmanship of the armor and the finely tailored shirt underneath indicated his status as a noble. However, she did not recognize his insignia.
“I’m not about to surrender him to you,” she replied.
He tried to cross the threshold of her property. The protective symbols in the rocks glowed white. A pulse of energy, like a wave of heat, traveled the stonewall until it enclosed her land. He tried once more but met the resistance of the magical barrier and flashed her a hateful glance. Behind him, one of the horses shrieked in pain. Fog coiled around their legs and tried to drag them to the ground.
“Sir, we have to go. It’s not safe. We’ve angered the damos.”
Their leader kept his blue-eyed gaze fixed on Zieka not moved by his man’s statement. “Turn him over. You don’t know what you’re getting involved with if you don’t. Your little scribbles can’t keep me or them out forever.”
“Even if you return, I won’t relinquish him to you.”
The leader’s eyes narrowed. One of the horses screamed. He turned back toward his men and swore. The thickened vapor encircled the search party.
“Sir, please.”
A strand of fog snaked around one of the dogs and pulled the animal into it. The leader grumbled, mounted his horse, and kicked his heels into the sides of his mount. They raced from the clearing to escape the swelling fog leaving Zieka with her charge. She shook her head as they retreated knowing the leader’s threats weren’t empty. The glade hazed over until the miasma surrounded her property blocking any view of the forest. A dark shadow glided by the entrance, but she ignored it. The entities within never crossed the barriers of her land.
Zieka dragged the injured man into her house and hoisted him onto her bed. His pallor grew as more blood seeped onto her blankets and her hands. She grabbed a knife, cut away the fabric of his shirt, and tossed it away toward the fireplace. A few of his scratches were superficial, but the ones which his life left him had struck some vital organ. Another wound had hit close to the artery under his arm. Her fingers traced over the various scars marring his body. She closed her eyes taking stock of his injuries in her mind’s eye. Zieka could see the places which needed to be tended to first where the breaks in the energy field surrounding his body had weakened. Her hand landed on the wound under his arm. Herbs wouldn’t hasten this kind of healing. She took in a breath, concentrating her energy into her hands. Her mind dropped away. Her power flowed down her spine like molten metal, fusing with her bones, until it consumed her. Zieka directed the healing magic toward his injuries. She bit her tongue as the pain intensified. The space under his arm where the energy gushed out like his blood sealed over. Her power then rushed to the damage on his side near his liver. Her fingers traveled along the plane of his stomach. Another surge of energy charged through her. In her mind’s eye, the man’s aura sealed itself. The healing power cooled in her fingers. She opened her eyes and her hands roved the rest of his body. He would survive. The others gashes she could make poultices for.
Her head spun as exhaustion overtook her. When she tried to stand up, Zieka collapsed back into her chair as her body cooled. Once she could move without shaking, she gathered a few dried herbs suspended from her ceiling. She threw them into her mortar and ground them with her pestle. Zieka added a little bit of water and plucked one herb which made her healing foolproof. Seven silver vigata petals clung to the stem in the shape of a bell. Dark green leaves, as big as her hand, looked freshly picked. She crushed a leaf and a petal between her fingers and added it to the mixture. It turned the same silvery hue as the flower. She spread the paste on clean cloths and placed them on her patient’s remaining wounds so they wouldn’t fester. She gathered her energy for another scan. His breathing evened out and his body responded to her curing. Zieka pressed her hand to his forehead and pushed her magic into him with the intention for his slumber to deepen. After a ragged inhale, his body relaxed.
Her head throbbed. She settled into her seat, safe to recover her strength from the healing she performed. Her eyelids drooped and she surrendered to a dreamless sleep.The next time she opened her eyes, her charge rested on his arm, watching her. Zieka jumped. His striking honey golden gaze held hers. She forced a smile and composed herself, breaking away from his compelling stare. “You need to lay back down,” she urged him.
“They’ll be coming for me. Where are my men?” Her patient tried to rise and grunted in pain.
She eased him down. He grabbed her wrist and his irises burned gold. A light pressure, like a spiderweb, descended over her. Zieka pried his fingers off her wrist and gently pushed him back to the bed. His eyes flashed with confusion. “Your magic won’t work on me. The man who brought you here is dead. If you had others in your company, I assume they met the same fate. Those pursuing you retreated after the fog slithered out of the forest. Their leader vowed to return with a force to take you. He said you are a killer. Is that true?”“I swear to you, I’m not. They are the ones who chased me from my castle and performed horrible deeds. I had to flee.” He stared at her imploring her with his eyes. Zieka let out a long sigh. She didn’t know if she should believe him, but she would not turn him away because he was hurt.
“Well, he won’t be coming in. He couldn’t cross my threshold. My magic keeps out any who mean me harm. Your man begged me to save you before he passed into the Twilight Realm.” Zieka lifted one of the poultices. His skin had knitted back together underneath leaving a faint scar.
“Could you not save my man?” He touched her hand once more. This time the pressure upon her mind tightened like a rope trying to bind her. His eyes went completely black as he forced his magic upon her, trying to bend her will.
She sighed. Men never learned. Zieka gathered her power and swiped her finger across his forehead moving his hay-colored hair from his face. His influence around her dissolved. “He was killed by those hunting you. Before he died, he said you had gold.”
His gaze didn’t leave hers as his eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”
“I’m…” The question always arose with those she treated. The answer sat on the tip of her tongue. Her name. Once upon a time, she had a true name. A sharp stab sliced her temple. Whenever she wanted to utter her name, the pain hit her. After a time, she avoided the memory altogether. “I’m Zieka.”
“I know you’re a healer, but what’s your name?”
“My vocation has become my name. Many seasons have passed since I’ve had a true identity. Who are you?” Zieka studied his eyes. More questions about her lingered underneath the surface.
“I’m Luca.”
“Nice to meet you. Did you steal from them? Is this the reason why you can pay me in gold? Or is there some other reason you claim they chased you from your castle? Maybe you’re really a thief who should be locked up in the dungeon.” She dipped a ladle into her barrel of rainwater and handed it to him. Luca gulped it down before holding it out for more. Zieka gave him another ladleful and took a sip of it herself. In a separate bowl, she crushed up a bit of dried herbs, mixed them with the water, and then dipped a cloth into the concoction. She dabbed at the cuts on Luca’s torso. Her fingers tingled, but she ignored her gift. His body and the herbs would heal the remaining wounds. He needed rest, but she didn’t know how long they would have before the soldiers returned.
Luca hissed when she touched one of his gashes. An angry red scar remained where she had sealed his wound. His gaze remained heavy on her while she worked, but she ignored him. “How am I alive? I hovered on the edge of the Twilight Realm ready to join my ancestors as they called to me. I felt their chilled touch. Why didn’t I pass into their hands?”
“I have the healing gift. I mended your most grievous injuries. When your man gave his life for you, I figured you were important.”
“I owe you my life. I’m in your debt.”
She shook her head. “I don’t need to be repaid in favors.”
He pulled a pouch on his belt and tossed it to her. The bag landed with a heavy thunk on the floor. She weighed it in her hand. This would keep her well supplied. “Consider it a partial payment. You say I’m in your debt, but you took me in and with it the trouble it’ll surely bring you.”
“You did steal it then and you’re lying now.” She threw the money onto the table in disgust.
“The money isn’t stolen. I assure you. I’m not lying. Their leader murdered my family in the hopes of overthrowing the kingdom. They need me dead to complete their task. You’ve risked your life aiding me. How is it you kept the soldiers from storming into your house to finish me off?” Luca pushed himself up and leaned against her pillow.
Zieka glanced at him. Revealing her secrets to this strange man didn’t set well with her. He brought danger to her doorstep and treating him threatened her way of life. However, she couldn’t leave a man being hunted to be killed. She figured they had a couple of days at best before the soldiers returned for their bounty. Her patient had to be well enough to leave or she would be dragged further into their conflict. From her confrontation with the soldiers, she doubted they would leave her unmolested for taking in Luca.
“They can’t cross the enchantments protecting the grounds. I set them to keep out the daimons.”
“Daimons?” Luca asked.
She shook her head. He wouldn’t understand the tales about the ancient beings who lurked in the forest and came out with the mist. “The creatures who live in the wood. They linger within the fog which slowly devours the land bringing it into their realm and killing any living thing it touches.”
“Have you ever seen these daimons?” His voice came out in a whisper.
Something in his tone made her realize he knew more than what he was letting on. Zieka didn’t know how much to share. Most villagers she came across whispered about the daimons and used handmade talismans to ward them off and save their crops from the advancing miasma. It rolled over the earth, consuming whatever it touched like a blood thirsty animal. If it retreated, the land remained a blackened husk. The daimons followed the mist. Zieka shivered when she thought about the creatures. More beautiful than anything she had ever seen and even more sinister. Some said they were once gods, fallen and twisted, underneath their glamour. One of daimons in particular kept his eye on her. She had only seen the one because he wouldn’t leave her in peace. The others she sensed when she stepped into the forest to gather herbs.
“Yes, I’ve seen them.” She turned her attention back to the man in her care.
“Tell me what they looked like.”
Zieka cleared her throat and shoved the dark thoughts away. “Let’s not dwell on those creatures. To think about them can summon the daimons close to this sphere. They may leave me alone, but other families reside near the edge of the wood. I wouldn’t want them to suffer the daimon’s wraith. Let me make dinner, and you can tell me why your men sacrificed themselves for you.”
Luca groaned and lay back down. He stared at the ceiling while she stoked the fire. As it grew darker, the fog crept out of the trees and banked across the stones of her property. Zieka stared into the haze obscuring her view of the forest. A shadow paced along the line of her wall, searching for a weakness in her protection spell, waiting for her to cross the threshold. She would not be lured out. She focused on fixing their meal. Zieka dropped the meat and vegetables into a cooking pot with the water and waited. She washed her hands and glanced outside. The shadow stood outside of her gate staring at the house. She forced herself to turn from the lurking daimon and back to Luca.
“You were going to tell me about yourself.” Zieka sorted through her herbs to see what needed restocking after using her supplies on him.
“I’m a wanted man. What more do you need to know?” Luca replied.
“I deduced that by the soldiers chasing you and them shooting arrows at me.”
“Goram drove me from my lands. He convinced the court and royal guard I slaughtered my entire family when it was him. He gleans to murder every last royal in my bloodline. I returned from hunting to find my family’s lifeless bodies scattered throughout the house. My father lingered in a slumber between this world and the Twilight Realm. Goram found me and called the guards saying I killed them all. Men loyal to me snuck me out of the castle from the dungeons. We stayed off the road, keeping to the forest trails. The only hope of true escape was to divide the road and take the enchanted path. Goram shouldn’t have been able to follow, but he found a way.”
“What do you mean about dividing the road and taking the enchanted path?” Zieka wasn’t convinced with his story.
“I didn’t kill my family. I loved them. My brothers and sister were babes. My stepmother was with child. I wouldn’t commit such a heinous act. I’m well versed in divining the hidden trails within the wood.” He slammed his fist against the stuffed pallet she used for a mattress. His eyes glistened and he turned away to hide his tears.
Movement by the window near her bed caught her attention. The daimon’s shadow lingered by the front entrance to her property. She sighed. He would not leave unless she went out to him. Luca’s anger and the unspent emotion convinced her of his story. This Goram had framed him and needed him dead in order to carry out some awful plan. One reason she enjoyed being on her own is she bowed her head to no one. “I’m sorry for your family. Forgive me, I’ll return after I check on something outside.” She headed toward the door.
“You risk your life going out there. The damos inhabit the fog. Some say the mist is alive and works with the damos.”
“I’ve never heard that. Rest.” She flashed him a small smile and opened the door.
Remember to check out other posts in the Blog Hop.
October Frights Book Fair: https://afstewart.ca/october-frights-book-fair/
October Frights Giveaway: https://storyoriginapp.com/to/fPAZCcZ
Participant List
Camilla Voiez, British Horror Author
Crymsyn Hart - Paranormal and Horror Author 