Page 61 of The Heartless One
She opened her mouth to reply, but instead vomited blood. It poured out of her mouth in a fountain of bright color and splashed on the tile beneath her. The blood spread too quickly, like it was thinner than normal blood should be.
Everyone stared at the red liquid splashed across the pristine black-and-white-checkered floor. No one moved. Not even a cough.
“Was it something she ate?” someone muttered, their words carrying a little too loudly in the room. But then another guest gasped and clutched at their stomach, flailing for support, but no one wanted this person to touch them. The entire crowd lunged away from the two people who were now vomiting on the floor.
“What is going on?” Elric murmured, sidestepping a pool of blood as he tried to move toward the stairs.
A guard there held out his hand to stop him, his eyes wild with fear. But there were veins in that man’s eyes that were far too visible. Red striations that looked like they were writhing in the whites. And suddenly, the guard hissed out a breath. Those eyes roved, but they were suddenly staring past Elric.
“Who turned out the lights?” the guard snarled.
“No one.” Elric moved out of the man’s way as he lifted his arms and wildly waved them in front of him.
“What do you mean, man? I cannot see!”
“You’re blind.” Elric watched as a few more people in the crowd shrieked and started clawing at their eyes. One woman did it so hard that her nails left bloody strips as she tore at her own face. Panic had started to set in. Soon enough, people were running for the doors.
But the doors were closed. Locked from the outside.
All of these people, the greatest and most powerful in Inverholm and the kingdoms beyond, were trapped. No one was going to let them out, and no one was going to help them. Not while they were sick.
And that’s what they were, he realized. They were infected. One by one, their skin mottled. Pustules bloomed on their flesh as they scratched at their arms and cried out for help.
He stood there by the stairs, watching with shock as they all ran for the doors. They plastered themselves against the wood, rattling it so hard he was surprised it didn’t burst from its frame. They were shrieking now, too, begging gods who weren’t listening for mercy.
“Open these doors!”
“Please, someone help us!”
“This is a mistake! I wasn’t supposed tobehere!”
Over and over, they cried out. One of the men shouted in a tone that was different from the others, and Elric feared he was being crushed against the door, but there was no room for mercy here.
An old woman slipped in the blood on the floor, falling onto her back and crying out in pain. But no one reached out to help her, not even to pull her upright. It was complete and utter pandemonium, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. Not even a god.
Eventually, a few other people realized that as well. They were mostly older, wiser. People who had seen their life flash before their eyes a few times now, and knew this time they wouldn’t cheat death.
They backed away from the door, and that’s when he realized how much this kingdom still needed the gods. Because in the hour of their need, many of them dropped to their knees, and theyprayed.
What a horror it was to watch. His siblings were dead and gone. They hadn’t been in this realm for centuries, and the only god left was him. But still, these people believed. They begged and pleaded to gods who could no longer hear them, and likely wouldn’t have helped even if they were still alive. They promised all the good deeds they would do and all the lives they would save. The sacrifices they would make. The children they would teach to worship the gods as well.
So many offerings to gods who no longer existed.
Someone touched his leg, and he looked down to see a young woman there. Her eyes were bloodshot and wider than they should have been. A small trickle of blood trailed down her chin, and when she smiled up at him, her teeth were coated red. But still, the little redhead tried to be pretty as she met his gaze.
“You aren’t like us, are you?” she asked, her voice thin and reedy.
He bent down, easing onto his knees before her as he looked her over. “No, I am not.”
“Are we dying?”
“I don’t know. I have never seen a person become infected before.” He tilted his head to the side, watching as a blister formed on her cheek, marring her pretty face even further. “What does it feel like?”
“Not quite like death at all,” she whispered. “Like I can feel myself leaking out of my ears and I don’t know how to plug the hole.”
“How tragic.”
“Indeed.” She took a deep breath, or at least tried to do so. Something wet stuck in her lungs when she did, and a wheeze rattled in her chest. “Are you a god?”
