A Fallen God (Fall of the Fey #2)

Chapter 1

'We have to bury the bodies.'

Faux was rubbing his wrists where the cuffs had left red welts. His movements were jerky and his breathing shallow, Mel worried that he might faint.

'Lucius wants us to check the town just in case Jacoby is still here.' Mel tried to say this in a soothing voice.

'We need to bury the bodies.' Faux repeated, his voice cracked horribly. She couldn't put it off any longer, Mel looked down at the three children. Their necks gaped in a terrifying parody of a smile. She looked away quickly, her throat working rhythmically.

'Okay.'

Faux looked up at her as though he couldn't quite believe what she had said. He nodded and looked around the open field, his eyes skipping over the pool of blood.

'We need a shovel.'

'There would be one in the town.'

Faux looked back down at the bodies and it became clear to Mel that he didn't want to leave them.

'I'll look.' She told him and he nodded.

Mel stumbled back down the hill that she had crawled up only hours ago. The world had taken on a bright sheen since then, as though it were just a little unreal. She thought that it ought to be raining on such a horrid day but guessed it was more appropriate that it was sunny, why would the world give the right atmosphere when everything else had gone wrong as well?

She arrived at the first house and caught a glimpse of Lucius further down the slopping town, his sword in hand as he scoured the area for Jacoby. The house was made out of wood with a little lean-to that acted as either an outhouse or a shed and she opened the door expecting the foul smell of the former. She was surprised to find it was actually a shed and right beside the door stood an old shovel.

Faux had put the bodies in a neat row by the time that Mel came back. He took off his shirt before he grabbed the shovel off her and began to dig. He had started the second grave when Lucius came back with his own shovel. He began digging the third grave.

Mel watched, unable to shake the feeling of absolute uselessness she had felt the moment that she had collapsed at the edge of the clearing and watched Reginald kill the children. Her mind kept wandering back to that moment, wondering if she could have done something, anything, to stop the blade from sliding across their exposed throats.

She squeezed her eyes shut to block out the image of the blood that pulsed out of the wounds. The image was replaced with the king, writhing as he burned from the inside out.

Mel gasped in pain and opened her eyes to see she had been digging her nails into her palms. She couldn't watch them bury the kids anymore, without a word she turned and went in search of food.

By sunset Faux had buried the three boys in shallow graves. He piled stones at the head of each grave so that he would be able to find them again. Lucius had returned with sacks full of blades. Mel looked at the bags from where she sat with a question on her face.

'Dejmon blades,' Lucius said as if that explained everything. 'We should leave, who knows what Jacoby might send for us if we stay.'

'Faux?' Carmel asked, he hadn't acknowledged either of them for most of the day. 'We need to go.'

Faux nodded without looking away from the graves.

Lucius helped Mel to her feet and picked up both of the sacks with one hand. Faux pulled Mel's other arm across his shoulders. She stumbled between them until Faux cursed under his breath and made her get on his back. Mel clung to him as they walked down the steep hill passing the lonely hutches from the people who had disappeared from the island. They were probably dead, Mel thought to herself.