One Night at a Soul Auction Page 12

  “Stay close,” he replies, grabbing my hand and starting to lead me across another set of boulders. “If I tell you to hide, you have to hide and let me deal with any danger. Do you understand? Even if you hear awful sounds, curl yourself up into a ball deep down between a few boulders, and wait for me to let you know that it's safe to come out. Do you promise to do that?”

  “I promise.”

  For the next few minutes, he helps me across the field of boulders. I can tell he's scared, because he keeps looking back over his shoulder as if he's worried that someone might come after us. I look too, but all I see is the plume of smoke getting further away as we move past the bandits' camp. I feel a flash of relief as I realize that we seem to be escaping without getting caught, although at the same time I know we could still get spotted. Looking up at Duncan, I decide to take my cue from him, but I can tell that he's still concerned.

  I keep quiet as we make our way past the end of the boulder-field and down a grassy verge. Duncan might be used to this kind of terrain, but I'm not and I almost slip several times. Duncan holds me up, and finally we reach a level plateau and I'm relieved to hear Duncan sigh.

  “Are we safe now?” I whisper. “Did we get away?”

  “No-one's safe on these roads,” he replies, “but I think at least we -”

  He stops suddenly, and I realize that something on the ground has caught his attention.

  Looking down, I see several dark patches. I think they might be -

  “Let's keep moving,” he says grabbing my arm and leading me alone the plateau.

  “Was that blood?” I ask.

  “Of course not.”

  “Then what -”

  “Let's just keep moving,” he continues, guiding me down the plateau's far end.

  As we walk, however, I spot something white fluttering nearby, caught on a branch of a twisted black tree.

  “What's that?” I ask.

  Duncan stops for a moment and watches the piece of torn fabric.

  “It looks like part of a shirt,” I point out. “Did something bad happen here?”

  “I'm sure it's nothing,” Duncan says, pulling me along until we reach a slope that leads down toward another valley. “Just keep your eyes on the ground and make sure you don't slip.”

  “Is it much further until I can go home?” I ask. “Will I have to spend another night here?”

  “You should be gone by sundown,” he replies. “Then everyone will be happy.”

  “I don't know how I'm going to explain this,” I continue. “Could you write a letter or something, for me to show Mummy?”

  “I don't do letters.”

  “But I'll need something! Mummy will want to know where I've been. Or could you come with me and just pop inside and tell her?”

  “I'm not coming with you.”

  “Then how -”

  “You talk a lot,” he adds. “You know that, don't you?”

  “It's rude to tell someone they talk a lot,” I reply. “It's like -”

  Suddenly I hear a gasping noise nearby, and I turn to see that a bloodied man is crawling through the mud nearby. I stop and stare at him, and I see that the top of his head has been sort of cut away. And then, just as his gaze meets mine, Duncan puts a hand across my eyes.

  “Don't look!”

  I duck down and look at the man again, but Duncan covers my eyes more firmly this time.

  “Don't look, Milly!” he hisses, but I can still hear the man's gasps. “There's nothing anyone can do for him.”

  “What happened?” I ask, trying to not sound like I'm crying. “Who hurt him?”

  I wait for Duncan to answer, but he simply keeps his hand over my eyes as the gasping sound comes closer.

  “Milly,” Duncan says finally, “I need you to do exactly what I tell you. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, but why do -”

  “Turn around.”

  “But -”

  “Turn around!”

  He grabs my shoulders and forces me to turn so that I've got my back to the crawling man. Moving his hand away from my eyes, Duncan hesitates for a moment.

  “Milly,” he says after a few seconds, “I need you to keep looking that way, okay? And put your fingers in your ears.”

  “Why?”

  “Just do it. And on this one occasion, don't ask questions.”

  I pause, before reaching up and slipping a finger into each ear. Not too far, however. I can still hear the man gasping, and a moment later I hear Duncan walking away. I almost turn to watch, but then I remember how determined Duncan sounded.

  “Are there any more like you?” I hear him say. “Are there any more injured?”

  I swallow hard.

  My heart is pounding.

  I want to turn and look, but I don't dare.

  “I'm sorry,” Duncan adds after a moment. “Truly. If you can hear me...”

  He falls silent.

  I wait, and then slowly I start to turn.

  Just as I look at the man, I see Duncan twist his head. There's a horrible cracking sound and the man lets out a brief, interrupting groan before Duncan gently sets his body back down against the ground.

  I turn away.

  Duncan killed him.

  Duncan killed that man by snapping his neck!

  Trembling with fear, I hear Duncan coming back this way. Is he going to snap my neck as well. I flinch, poised to run, but then Duncan takes my hand.

  “Come this way,” he says, sounding a little sad, “and don't look to the left.”

  I do as I'm told, at least for a few paces, but finally I can't help looking over at the dead man again. Now I can see that the top of his head has been almost completely sliced away, exposing a thick blood-red patch that I think might be part of his brain. I can see his dead eyes, too, staring down into the mud.

  “I told you not to look,” Duncan says, placing a hand on the side of my face and guiding me to look up at him. “There was nothing anyone could do for him,” he adds. “Putting him out of his misery was the only merciful choice I had.”

  “Couldn't you have taken him to a hospital?” I ask.

  “We don't have hospitals here,” he explains. “People have to look after themselves. And, occasionally, each other.”

  “But what -”

  Suddenly my right foot bumps against something, and I look down to see a dented old metal teapot.

  “Scrap,” Duncan says, forcing me to keep walking with him. “After bandits raid a convoy or a settlement, they discard anything that won't fetch a high price. Usually they'd keep metal, but with a soul auction going on they're simply spoiled for choice. They'll be able to steal so much gold and silver and jewelry from travelers, they won't be able to carry less valuable metals.”

  “So they attacked someone and stole their things and left their teapot?”

  “That's one way of looking at it,” he replies. “They probably think they can come back and scavenge the rest of the junk later.”

  “But -”

  Before I can finish, I spot some kind of metal pipe on the ground, and then a little further along there's a wooden pot. Looking around, I realize there are plenty of items that have been discarded in the grass, as if people moved through this area and just tossed things away as they walked. There are even bundles of clothes, and then a moment later Duncan stops and I turn to see several carts and caravans overturned at the bottom of a small incline.

  And bodies.

  There are several bodies down there, and even from up here I can see that they're covered in blood.

  “Is that who they stole from?” I ask, unable to stop looking at the carnage. “Did they take these things from those people?”

  “Yes, Milly,” he replies, “they did. That would have been a convoy of people heading to the soul auction. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Greed is already spilling out from the auction site and infecting the land. The sooner the soul auction is out of here, the better.”

&nbs
p; “If it's so bad, why doesn't someone stop it?” I ask.

  “It's not as simple as that,” he explains. “Soul auctions are run and sponsored by powerful people. The rest of us just have to turn a blind eye and wait for them to move on. Soon the soul auction will be someone else's problem in some other world. The last one was near a Grandapam settlement. The next will be far away from here. It's just our turn to be unlucky right now.”

  He leads me along the edge of the ridge, and it's clear that he doesn't want us to get too close to the wreckage. I can't say that I blame him, although I keep looking down at the bloodied corpses that have been scattered around like old dolls. I've never seen anything so horrible, except in picture books about cowboys. And as we continue to make our way along, skirting the area where the attack happened, I feel my feet bumping against more and more pots and trinkets that were left behind by the bandits.

  “It's horrible,” I whisper, as I spot a bracelet nearby. “It's like -”

  Suddenly I freeze, stopping in my tracks as I see a pattern on the side of the bracelet.

  “Keep moving,” Duncan says, tugging on my arm. “Milly, this isn't the kind of place to -”

  “Matilda,” I say suddenly.

  “What?”

  He stops and looks down at the bracelet.

  “That's Matilda's,” I say, feeling a flutter of panic in my chest. “I know it is. I saw her wearing it.”

  I pause for a moment, before turning and looking down at the bloodied bodies.

  “Duncan,” I continue, as a growing sense of fear rises through my chest, “why is Matilda's bracelet here?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “She probably just sold it,” Duncan mutters as he hurries down the slope, heading toward the wrecked carts and caravans. “She's always selling things to get her next fix.”

  “She wouldn't let herself get hurt, would she?” I ask, trying desperately to keep from panicking. “Duncan? Matilda's too smart for that. Isn't she?”

  He doesn't reply. Instead he hurries on, and I can tell that he's worried. He only once told me to stay back, and since then he hasn't even turned to check that I'm not following him. It's not that I want to come down here, but I was too scared to stay up there where bandits might see me. Now, however, I'm starting to slow as I see several pale dead bodies slumped nearby in the grass.

  Matilda will be fine.

  She's smart and tough.

  Besides, she sold me out, so why do I even care?

  Why does Duncan care?

  I stare at one of the bodies for a moment, and then I hear a loud crashing sound. Startled, I turn to see that Duncan has ripped a wooden panel away from the side of an upturned caravan, and he's climbed up so he can look inside. He seems absolutely frantic, and the fact that he's worried makes me feel worried too. I watch as he scrambles along the length of the caravan, and then he jumps to the next and takes a look inside.

  “You're probably right!” I call out to him. “I'm sure she sold it and...”

  My voice trails off.

  Matilda got something for selling me, so why would she then need to make more money so quickly. I look down at the bracelet, which I picked up from the grass, and I remind myself that at least it doesn't seem to be bloodied. That means she's probably okay, and when I look over at Duncan I see that he's still going from caravan to caravan, checking for any sign of her. He clearly hasn't found her, though, which is good and -

  Suddenly he stops, staring down into one of the caravans.

  I wait for him to move on, to keep searching, but instead he remains completely still.

  “Do you see anything?” I ask, taking a tentative step forward before stopping again. I'm scared that I already know the answer to that question, but at the same time I'm clinging to the hope that somehow everything's alright.

  After all, I'm just a little girl. It's not like I've got a lot of experience with this sort of thing.

  Just as I'm about to open my mouth and ask Duncan a question, however, he crouches down and climbs into the upturned caravan. I hear him forcing his way through the interior, followed by a general rummaging sound. I realize after a moment that I've begun to hold my breath, and then I look down at the bracelet. I should be angry at Matilda still, after what she did to me, but instead I'm really worried for her. I mean, sure, she was mean and she betrayed me, but up until that moment I really liked her.

  Hearing a grunting sound, I look back at the caravan, just in time to see that Duncan is climbing out.

  And I let out a gasp as I see that he's carrying a bloodied, limp body in her arms.

  “Is it her?” I shout, hurrying forward and looking up as Duncan starts climbing from the top of the caravan. “It's not her, is it? Tell me it's not her.”

  He says nothing as he jumps down onto the rocky ground, and I watch with a growing sense of horror as he carries the body a few paces away from the caravan. Then he kneels down and sets the body on the ground, and I can just about make out the side of Matilda's bloodied, ripped face. Even from this distance, I can tell that her cheek seems to have been split open, and when I look at the rest of her body I see that her clothes are absolutely soaked in blood.

  “Is she...”

  My voice trails off.

  I have to ask the question, even though I know what he's going to say.

  “Is she dead?” I ask finally, taking a step toward Duncan. “Duncan? Is she... Can you do anything for her?”

  I wait, but there are tears in my eyes and I can feel a heavy weight in my chest.

  “Did they do this to her?” I ask, sniffing back some of the tears. “The bandits, I mean. Did they kill her?”

  Again I wait, but again he says nothing.

  I step closer, until I can see the side of his face. He's staring down at Matilda's body, and there's something really scary about the blank fury in his eyes. I want to ask him if there's anything we can do, but I know those words would sound so stupid.

  “Milly,” he says suddenly, not turning to me. “Do you still have that bracelet?”

  I hold it out for him. When he doesn't take it, I reach closer and slip it into his hand.

  He looks down at the bracelet for a moment, before placing it next to Matilda's body.

  “She had a lot more of that kind of thing,” he says finally. “She had rings on her fingers.”

  Looking at her hands, I see that they're bare now.

  “She had earrings,” he continues. “Gold earrings. And a necklace that I never saw her without. They weren't worth much, she tried to pawn them a few times. She always bought them back, though, when she could. She should have them with her now, for when I...”

  He pauses, and then slowly he gets to his feet.

  “Are you sure there's nowhere you can take her?” I ask, looking up at him. “Maybe someone somewhere could fix her up.”

  He stares at her body for a moment longer, before turning to me.

  “I want you to stay here,” he says, his voice trembling with anger. “I know you tend to obey instructions, Milly, but this isn't the time to mess around. I want you to stay right here and wait for me. I won't be long.”

  “But -”

  “I know you're scared, but you just have to wait,” he says firmly. “If you wander off, if you get lost, you'll never find your way home. I'll get you home, but right now I need you to stay right here. Do you understand?”

  “Where are you going?” I ask.

  “I'm going to...”

  He hesitates, before turning and starting to walk away.

  “I'm going to get Matilda's things back,” he adds finally. “It's not right for anyone else to have them.”

  “Can't I come with you?” I call out, but he's already so far up the slope that I'm not even sure he can hear me. I want to run after him, but he sounded really serious and I think maybe now isn't the right time to cause trouble.

  Instead of running, I stay right where I am and watch until Duncan has disappeared over the top of the
ridge. He's heading in the direction of the plume of smoke, but I tell myself not to panic.

  Duncan's smart.

  Duncan knows what he's doing.

  Duncan wouldn't just leave me here.

  I look down again at Matilda's body. I hate seeing her like this, but at the same time I can't quite bring myself to look away. Staring at her face, I see that one entire side of her skull looks to have been partially crushed, while her right eye have been pushed so far up through the bloody meat that it's almost in her forehead. Her mouth is partway open, and I can see her bloodied teeth, as if she died screaming.

  Why would anyone do this?

  Even if they wanted to steal her things, why would the bandits kill her? And why would they cause so much damage? It almost looks as if they enjoyed what they did.

  I sit for a long time, just staring at Matilda's dead body. After a while I really want to turn away, but the day is getting a little chilly and I'd feel bad leaving her here, so instead I grab a tattered blanket from nearby and set it over her chest. I don't want her to feel lonely, so I decide to keep her company even though I know that really she has no idea that I'm here. I almost start talking to her, but then I realize that I don't want to start seeming crazy, so I simply sit in silence and think about how I'm going to explain all of this when I get home.

  Finally, as I'm lost in thought, I hear footsteps coming closer. Startled, I turn and see that Duncan is coming this way. He's limping slightly, and as he reaches me he crouches down and drops some rings and other items of jewelry on the ground.

  It's Matilda's things!

  He got them all back, but...

  Staring at him, I see that he's bloodied and injured, with cuts all over his face. His clothes are caked in blood, and there's what looks like a thick cut running across one of his shoulders. There's so much blood, in fact, that some is even dripping from his wrist as he starts carefully sliding the rings back onto Matilda's fingers.

  “I didn't go anywhere,” I tell him.

  He doesn't reply.

  “Did you get everything?” I ask.

  Again, he says nothing.

  “How did you make the bandits give it back?” I continue. “Did you -”