Tainted

Chapter One

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“On the eve of the winter solstice,
the god scorched the sky.
The great goddess wept tears of acid
to warn her children of the lie.”

A heavy rush of wind tousled Livia's hair, blowing the honey colored strands into her amethyst eyes. She turned and gazed up at the thick black storm clouds towering over her like gigantic hulks, trying to incite fear in small children. Only, Livia wasn't scared. She shrugged, pushed her hair away from her rosy cheeks, and continued weeding the garden. The other children, scattered about the yard, doing various chores, ran toward the house, covering their heads with their hands.

"Livia," Mistress Slain called from the kitchen entry. "What is wrong with you child? You know the rain will scar your tender skin."

Sighing, the girl pushed herself up and trudged into the house, where the other children were running about closing shutters and whining in fear. Mistress Slain directed the older children, trying to obtain a tiny bit of order in the chaos that became her home. "With any luck it will blow over," she bellowed over the cries of Anell Tlone.

"It won't blow over," Livia said with a roll of her eyes. She was only ten but old enough to smell the acid from a mile away. If left to herself, she would have spent another five ticks on that garden and been finished with that one particular chore for the sadin.

Trowy Jenn clapped his hand over her mouth and laughed. "She's trying to calm the young ones, Livi. Forgive her this one time."

Livia glared up at the boy with unkempt black hair and pursed her lips. It seemed he was always around to correct her when she didn't need to be corrected. After shoving his hand away, she flopped down in a vacant chair and crossed her arms.

"Come now, children." Mistress Slain clapped her hands and looked around her, waiting for attention. "It's another two bells before the evening meal. Caya has agreed to give you a lesson in the sitting room. Everyone calmly file in and while your there I'll see if Grayson will come share a story with us tonight."

Livia raised her eyebrows at the mention of Grayson, the old man that lived next door to the orphanage. She knew he never had any children of his own, and referred to the rag tag gaggle of tots residing at Hillcrest as his family. Livia couldn't think of a better way to spend a rainy evening than listening to one of Grayson's tales of old.

She never made it to the sitting room with the rest of the children. As she was getting up to join the rambunctious crowd, there was a hard knock at the door that startled a hairpin out of Mistress Slain's bedraggled locks.

"Get that will you, Livia, while I see to the hearth. You know it gets a might drafty in this old house during the rains."

"Yes, Mistress Slain." Livia veered for the door and yanked it open just as a bolt of lightning struck in the front yard. She screamed and backed away from the opening, letting the harsh wind blow in a few drops of the tainted rain.

A lone figure stood in the doorway, his thick leather cloak dripping with acid rain. He looked menacing in the eerie dark that remained after the strike, making Livia take a few more steps back before her senses kicked in. "Come in, come in. Hurry now, before the rain drips through."

The man stepped in and glared down at her with one good blue eye and a pale white orb. "I seek the Mistress of the house." His voice was like wagon wheels tumbling over gravel. It just didn't sound right.

"She's uh... She's in here." Livia turned and led the way to the dinning room.

The man clapped his hand over her shoulder before she got too far away. "I don't see too well."

She wanted to press her hands over her ears to dull the pain his voice sent though her body. It was horrific and set her nerves on edge. After seeing the man to Mistress Slain she had every intention of dashing into the sitting room or up to her room if that was what it took to avoid him.

"Who was it?" Mistress Slain didn't even look up. She remained hunched over the fire working the bellows.

"He's asked to see you, Mistress."

"Oh," she said as she turned and stared up at the man. Her black locks falling loose of their bindings,
revealing a streak of gray above her right ear. "Ah, Livia. Would you show our guest here to an empty room and see that he has everything he needs?"

She wanted to protest, scream at the top of her lungs, hide and cower in fear. What was it about this man that made fear mingle in her blood? Livia had never been scared of anything, ever, but now, all of a sudden, she was terrified.

"Y... Yes, Mistress." Her voice was almost inaudible as she led the man to the stairs, deciding the best way to dump him in a room and be away without being rude--without hearing his voice again.

The first empty room she came to, she herded him into, but as she turned to leave, he spoke. "Am I really that scary, child?"

"No." Her body felt twisted and weak when he let go of her shoulder, as though the pressure of his hand had eaten up all of her energy.

"I'll need food and drink, an extra blanket if you can rummage one up and some burn salve and bandages."

"Bandages?"

"Acid burns."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, knowing the scars would never heal no matter how well he cared for them.

"Nothing new. I have acid scars over my acid scars. Now run along and get me the things I need, and I'll pay you a silver saint."

A sliver saint was worth more money than Livia had ever seen in her life. She could buy a whole new outfit complete with shoes for just that one coin. There was only one problem. "Sir, I'm not sure if I can get you food until later. The evening meal isn't ready yet."

"Anything will work, child, bread, a chunk of cheese, dried meat. I just need to settle my stomach."

"Yes, sir." She did her best to perform a curtsy but thought it turned out looking silly. After stumbling back down the stairs, she considered the man. He didn't seem all that scary, but there was something about him that set her body screaming. His voice was the worst of it. When he spoke, the vibrations of his voice scurried through her body, clawing at her nerves. She decided the best thing to do was to ask Mistress Slain who the man was.

"It is none of your business. But, if you must know, he's come to inspect you children. He'll spend a bit of time with each of you and make an assessment. Those of you he finds fit, will return with him to a place they call the Mission."

"What is the Mission? And, what do you mean finds fit?"

"Now, Livia. That is enough questions for now. I've a lot of work to do before the meal."

"Yes, Mistress." Livia left the woman and headed to the kitchen where Fat Flania stood stirring a massive pot.

"Ah, the demon child. What ya need?"

Livia slid up on a stool and giggled. "We have a guest from the Mission. He's asked for some food, any food, a drink, blankets, salve and bandages."

"Why the silly man must have left without any food and got caught in the storm," Fat Flania laughed and shuffled across the room. "Get a basket and line it with a blanket. I'll get the rest."

With a basket stuffed full in hand, Livia made her way back to the room where she left the man. He stood in the center of the room wearing only his breeches, his back covered with fresh acid scars. "Soaked right through my cloak," he whispered. "Can you rub that salve on and bandage if for me?"

Livia swallowed her disgust and sat the basket down on a table. The salve was in a small blue jar that she drew out of the basket and opened. "You'll have to squat down or sit on the bed."

He accommodated her short stature and sat on the floor. "I'll make sure I give your Mistress a good report. Most children would shy away from a ragged old man like me."

The salve felt like ice on her fingers and when she touched them to his back he cringed. She ignored him, knowing that if she stopped for every shiver, moan or jerk, she would never get the job done. The bandage was easier on both of them. She simply warped it around his back and chest and fastened it with a small pin. "Now you know you'll have to reapply this with a fresh bandage tomorrow?"

"Yes, Mam. I'll see that it gets done."

"Livi."

She turned to find Trowy standing in the door staring at her through those blue green eyes that seemed to read right into her. He smirked when she looked up at him, honeyed hair dangling in her face.

"Hello, Trowy," the old man said.

"It's good to see you, Master Draven." Trowy stood up straighter as he spoke.

"I think it is time for you to return with me," Draven said, examining the bandages.

"Yes, Master. Though you never have explained exactly where it is we will be going."

"All in good time, boy. Now, I believe you had business with my young assistant."

"Livi is needed in the sitting room, Master."

"I believe I've finished with the young woman for the evening." He slipped his hand in his pocket then pressed a silver saint into Livia's hand.

"Thank you," she said, before turning to leave.

Trowy stopped her at the door. "Will you take Livi when we go?"

Draven looked up at Trowy and smiled. "I can't be sure yet. Now run along, children, so an old man can get some rest.

Livia stared up at the ceiling, listening to the dull rat-tat-tat of the pouring rain. Cotton stuffed in her ears blocked the sound of Anell whimpering beside her, but it did nothing to hide the fierce storm that had raged for hours. Though most of the other children were worried about the storm and wondering if the roof would hold, Livia’s thoughts wandered in a different direction. Master Draven filled her head. She kept hearing his harsh, raspy voice and seeing the puss filled acid scars scattered across his loose pale skin.

Her fear of him fled at some point in the night, like a ghost sucked to the netherworld. Now all she wanted was to talk to him again. He had stories to tell, and she intended to hear them. Going away with him would be better than staying in the orphanage with all these whiney little kids, she thought.

She needed to talk to him, ask him about the Mission, about his life, about anything and everything. He seemed the type that would know.

I’ll do it now, she thought. All the other girls were so wrapped up in their own fears that they would never notice if she left the room. She turned her head to watch Anell. The girl, a year younger than Livia, was curled in a tight ball on her bed, staring at nothing, whimpers still falling from her lips.

Livia slipped out of her bed and with as much caution as she could muster, snuck across the room to the door. It stood open, haloed in the light of the candle left burning for the small children. The light was inviting and warm, almost taunting her with its promise of sight. Livia stepped through and paused for a moment. When no one from her room questioned her exit, she took a few more steps and peeked into the boy’s room. They looked to be in the same state as the girls, most of them anyway. Some were sound asleep, others lay with their eyes wide, gazing up at the ceiling, waiting for that one drip that would warn them to run.

Livia tip-toed past and started down the stairs to the second floor. She tried to skip the fifth step that she knew would creak and give away her midnight wanderings, but her foot missed the next step. Everything wobbled for a moment before she began to fall backward. She flung her hands out behind her, catching herself against the fifth step that let out a wailing creak. Not daring to move, she stayed there, with her hands holding her up, one foot raised precariously in the air, for quite some time. She lost track of the minutes, and strained so hard to hear that she thought she could hear the rush of her own blood.

She moved, slow and premeditated at first, thinking of each move before she made it. She slid down and sat on the sixth step, pausing for a moment to listen. Then, she was on her feet again and advancing toward the bottom of the stairs. The very last step would creak, she knew. If she intended to skip it, she would have to be more careful.

When she stood at the bottom of the stairs, she stared toward Master Draven’s room, considering what she would say once she knocked on the door. She wondered if he would allow her to enter at this time of night, or if he would send her creeping back to her bed. I’ll never know unless I try, she thought.

Lightning struck somewhere close by, the eerie blue light flashed, giving and then taking away clear sight. Thunder cackled, vibrating the floor beneath her feet, but that wasn’t what made her jump and almost scream. Something touched her shoulder, something warm and solid. She spun around, a cry of fright just barely held back, and pushed away from whomever was behind her.

“Calm down, Livi.” Trowy grabbed her arm and pulled her back toward him. “What are you doing up?”

“I… None of your business.” Livia yanked away from him.

“Mistress Slain won’t be happy to know that you are up at all hours harassing her guests.” She could hear the amusement in his voice.

“I’m not harassing her guest. I’m—I’m going to the kitchen. Falina said that I could have cheese and crackers anytime I wanted as long as I cleaned up after myself.”

“I don’t think she meant in the middle of the night.” His voice cracked as though he were trying to hold back laughter.

“Dinner was horrible. I couldn’t eat much. Now, I’m starving.”

“Livi, you don’t have to lie to me.”

In the darkness, she was just able to make out his face, and the curve of his lips. She scowled. “It’s none of your business what I’m doing.” Her voice raised and took on a sharp edge. As soon as she finished speaking she realized what she’d done, and huffed a breath. Why did he have to be so nosey?

“C’mon. Let’s go to the kitchen before you wake the entire house.” Trowy wrapped his arm around her shoulder, but she shoved him away and strode off on her own. She didn’t need his help. She needed him to leave her be.

Candles were already lit in the kitchen and Draven stood at the counter looking down at a plate of meat. “You were right, Trowy. That cook of yours is a miracle worker.”

Livia turned and glared at Trowy. If he was so sure of himself, so sure he knew what she was doing and shouldn’t be, why did he bring her here, to Draven? She couldn’t stand the fact that the older boy knew her so well, and she intended to make him think twice before he tried to dig around in her skull again. Ignoring the old man and the boy, she rummaged in the cupboards for crackers and sat silently on a stool slicing cheese.