Page 20 of Caught in the Devil’s Hand

Vallen, a demon, had been inside the barrier charms.

Chapter Five

As Shumei walked back home, she luxuriated in the feel of fine cloth against her skin—not to mention the easy warmth lingering in her limbs from her passionate interlude. The chances of running into someone at this time of the morning were small, so she was able to duck into her home without anyone seeing her or her new dress.

Kneeling next to her brother, she checked his forehead again and found his skin dry and cool. He was sleeping peacefully, and she intended to leave him like that until he woke on his own. After tucking the blanket more securely around him and sweeping a few stray golden locks of hair off his forehead, she stood and walked to her mother, who was in the same position as when she had left her.

Last night, Oka had been awake long enough to take a cup of water and a little broth, but Mama had refused both. Thinking her mother would be thirsty, Shumei sat next to her. Explaining the new dress would not be easy. She would have to tell the truth, or at least most of it, and the truth wasn’t pretty.

She grasped her mother’s thin shoulder and gave her a gentle shake. But her body rocked as if she were frozen with cold. As if she were dead.

Shumei stilled. Hoping Mama was merely holding her body tightly in her sleep as many do in a cold room, she shook her mother’s shoulder again, harder.

Mama’s white-streaked hair slipped across her face, revealing a pair of blue lips. Chest seizing, Shumei forcefully pulled her mother onto her back. Mama’s arms slowly fell to her sides, half-stiff with rigor mortis. She had definitely died, though probably not more than two hours ago. Perhaps only minutes after Shumei had left to bathe.

Her mother had been breathing when she’d left, she was certain. Or was she? A sob escaped. She covered her mouth, eyes scrunching up as she looked upon her mother’s slack face.

“Mama… Mama, I’m sorry,” she whimpered as tears ran freely down her cheeks. She swallowed several times to keep the massive lump in her throat down, but it rose without stopping until it broke free, turning into a harsh cry. The first of many.

She couldn’t suppress the sobs that racked her body and made her gasp for painful, shallow breaths. Her face grew hot. A headache throbbed in the back of her skull and slowly traveled through to her forehead. Her cheeks and fingers were wet with tears. Nothing had been easy for her mother, and now she was dead.

“Mama,” she cried, heart breaking. A hand touched her shoulder and she started. Her brother stood beside her, face tight. His beautiful brown eyes were red with anguish.

“Is Mama gone?” he croaked, lip trembling. Another sob escaped her, but she wiped at her cheeks and sucked in a calming breath. She nodded.

Oka put his chin to his chest. Tears fell. She pulled her brother into her arms and held him close as he sat sprawled across her lap. They wept together and embraced the last person they had left to call family.

⁂

Having returned to his horse, Vallen checked the soggy clothing he had hastily thrown over a low tree limb and found it still soaked. He patted the muscular neck of his mount while mussing the back of his hair to speed the drying process. Then he turned to the saddlebags on the ground and dug through them for his collapsed bow.

He was pulling it out when a tight, cold pain seized his chest. Gasping in agony, he slapped his hand against the horrible ache and nearly fell to his knees as it spread.

Shumei was in immense emotional pain, and it took him only a second to realize she must not have known her mother was dead.

Before he’d followed her to the river, he had been watching her home from beyond the tree line. She had first emerged shortly after the sun had risen, and he had nearly run to help her when she’d retched in the tall grass only fifty feet from him. She was important to his survival, but he’d restrained himself from sprinting to her side, not wanting to reveal his presence just yet. After she’d recovered, she had returned to her home with more energy in her stride, which had greatly relieved him.

A few moments later, she’d left again. He’d seen the soap in her hand and the direction she’d been taking—the river. Seeing his chance, he had waited until she was well away before stealthily approaching her hut, trying not to alert any of her neighbors. Inside, he had seen how little she and her family had. Not much food, all of it low in nutrition. A small, sad stack of firewood. Two thin bedrolls. Most of the rest of their possessions were related to caring for their field of medicinal plants. A young boy, asleep and unaware of Vallen, had moaned softly and turned to his side.

He had assumed the child was her brother. As for the older woman lying only a few steps away, undoubtedly Shumei’s mother, his demonic senses had told him she had recently died, judging by the vapors coming from her body. Wondering if perhaps Shumei had gone to the river to cry alone, he had followed her there, only to forget any intention to comfort her when he saw her.

After all, he was used to cruelty, and more than used to human mortality. More of his past lovers—in fact, the vast majority—had died of old age than still lived. And he had seen plenty of humans take death in stride. That was the world they all lived in, so he had somehow convinced himself Shumei had been prepared for her mother’s death.

Thanks to the binding, he was now experiencing her pain. He could practically hear her screams of grief in his head. Though normally a human’s tears were annoying, especially after all the lovers he’d met and discarded throughout his existence, Shumei’s weeping affected him—more than just physically. Chalking it up to another effect of the binding, he knelt by his saddle until the acidic pressure in his throat eased a few moments later.

He sighed in relief when the pain faded. His tightly held muscles slowly relaxed. He swallowed, glad it was over, though he wasn’t sure if it was because his pain had dulled, or because hers had.

⁂

The next morning, Shumei and Oka watched as two field workers took up the temporary duty of gravedigger and helped bury their mother. Luckily, today was the last day of the month because only then did priests visit the gravesites of crows to pray for their souls. Any other person would have a priest the day of their funeral.

Shumei had paid twenty kols for the cheapest coffin, the only one she could afford, which used up this week’s money for her mother’s food and the ten kols she had planned to use for new shoes. Those present at the funeral included the village leader and his wife, the local priest, and a couple of curious villagers with nothing else to do.

Oka stood pressed to her side, his eyes fixed on the rapidly filling hole in the ground. She held him close with an arm across his back while absentmindedly stroking his soft hair with her other hand.

“She’s really gone,” he whispered, hugging her tighter.

“I know,” she said, having spent her tears. She didn’t intend to shed any more in front of anyone here. “But we still have each other.”