SCARRED; The Dark Tower

Chapter Thirteen: A Conversation with the Dead

No one could have possibly felt as terrified as Lekira after the horrific night that Jerrick had reported to have met Gladar face to face. The only person she could have imagined to be as frightened as her was Jerrick; yet, when he came out of the arena after having spoken to Gladar, he seemed unshaken. Lekira was sure that if she had been in that situation, she would have fainted in utter terror. Just the mention of that name-- Gladar-- made her tremor. Her mind would shoot back to the day she had first met him and would leave her breathless, knees knocking together.

Lekira stared up at the ceiling as she laid in bed. She had hardly slept an hour last night. She had restlessy tossed and turned the entire night, fearing that Gladar would step out of the shadows, his yellow eyes fixed on her.

She let out a ragged breath, trying to compose herself. But still her heart hammered.

At the state she was in, it was no surprise that she lept nearly two feet in the air when there was a sudden knock at the door.

"Who is it?" she said, perhaps tone a bit too demanding.

"It's just me," said a familiar, gruff voice.

"Oh," said Lekira, still slightly shaky from fright. "Sorry, Reirdan. Come on in."

"Since when have you asked who it was before opening the door?" scoffed Reirdan as he entered her dwelling and made himself at home on the chair.

"Just... extra precaution... You know, in case..."

"What, you think Gladar will knock on your door and stay out if you tell him to?" Reirdan chuckled.

Lekira felt her cheeks turn a dark shade of crimson as she climbed out of bed. She took a seat opposite from Reirdan.

"Would you like some tea?" she asked, trying desperately to change the subject.

"Oh, no, thank you," replied Reirdan, scratching his chin. "And you'd better not have any either. Aragus found something in the forest that he wants you to take a look at. He's out there waiting for you right now."

"What? Why didn't you say that earlier? Here we are chatting!"

Lekira lept up from her seat, struggled to pull on her boots, and followed Reirdan out the door in a hurry.

It was not long before they reached the spot in the forest in which a small group of people had gathered. Aragus stood erect with his arms behind his back, a grim expression etched across his face. Behind him, Khordan bit his lip determinedly, his arms folded, glaring at something Lekira could not see. And beside him, an elderly woman whom Lekira recognized as Zuna, and a young man she had seen only a couple times before looked upon the scene with anxious expressions.

"Lekira, there you are," said Aragus.

"What's happened?" Lekira asked nervously.

Aragus said nothing, but beckoned toward the spot that Khordan had been staring at.

Lekira took a step forward and looked down. She let out a quick breath when she saw an all too familiar mark, floating about a foot in the air.

"It's Judias," Aragus frowned. "He went missing during his late evening watch."

A lump formed in Lekira's throat. The mark-- a large snake curled around a jagged knife-- was the sign that Gladar and his shydows left behind when they had made a kill. If the mark was here, and Judias was not. . .

"It's Gladar," snarled Khordan. Lekira was surprised to hear his change from denying that Gladar was back at all to this. "And he's here to slaughter every last one of us in the night! Nothing like this ever happened when Thrang was Head!"