I woke to find that the Lizeer were licking my face. Grumbling, I sat up.

“Get lost flea bags, I’m not carrion yet.”

The rest of the group were nestled together in the other corner, even the girl cuddled up to Lust. Lucky brat. Touching his arm .. feeling his breath. Uggggghhhhhhh. It was too early for enchantment. The scenery hasn’t changed much, the river flowing to our left and mountains behind. Crawling over the sprawling legs of the sleeping pile, I hopped in front, next to the merchant, who surprisingly despite steering the whole night looked chipper and fresh.

“Morning”.

He started to look to see who was there before stopping halfway.

“Got to remember not to do that. Good Morning. The food is in the bag next to you. I already ate.”

From a full bag of supplies only half a loaf remained. A pig would have probably eaten less. Full of disappointment I settled for the bread while trying to figure how far we got. I figured asking would be the quickest way.

“How far are we?”

He grimaced. “Not far enough”. I stopped half way through the night to rest the horse. We’ll need to buy another one. Doesn’t make sense why we wouldn’t get the other horse you had. Greedy rebels.”

He seemed far more greedy than Nero but it was best not to insult the guide. I still didn’t trust his intentions anyways. Why would a merchant owe the Lacrimae anything? The news the guards brought up about the Lacrimae were usually details from the murder of some fat merchant somewhere.

The road ground on for days. The brief breaks to rest the horse were the only respite. I began to hate the squeaking of wagon wheels and rustle of endless forest. If someone told me we hadn’t moved at all I would have believed it. Except we weren’t in the wagon but walking alongside to not “wear the horse down”. So the blisters reminded me of every step taken. The pace was  apparently needed to make it to the border town of Taeya before summer fully began. If we made it there at all. The merchant packed away food like a pride of lions. Food sprayed around his mouth and all. Yet his voice reminded me of someone. It irritated me like a grain of sand in my eye.

To help pass time while in the wagon, I read the only book there: The Compendium of Greed. It was her mind between pages. It started with pages yellowed with age and handwriting scrawled like a child’s. 

She was six when she got her power. She was some noble’s daughter who was unguarded for a second and the old man got her. Apparently she couldn’t make things with clay. Her parents made that up to stop the king from locking her up. She explained it as her memory being infallible. I took that to mean that she remembered everything. It seemed to be true because the book was filled with minute details. A twitch from a servant meaning a betrayal. A monster grew as the handwriting improved. It became less about what toy she played with and more who she cut. Detailed recordings of arms and leg muscles that could only be gotten from a look on the inside. A picture of what she called a heart and description of its sound still beating as her “patient writhed”. Later sketches for fake limbs and then strangest of all, a complete change. The last thirty pages was information on various noble households and groups. Secrets that could be used to blackmail them. Some were quite funny. “Lord Quilher defecated in the cellar of Sir Harengi.” 

The blank pages meant that she was expecting to be doing much more than burning alive amongst her work. In the very back, on the last page was a rune labelled “razum”. The mind controlling one I guess.

Once the book was finished the days fell with ponderous steps. Every sun that passed over the mountains meant more walking. Definitely should have just stayed in my cell. Didn’t help I kept looking over my shoulder in case Envy was trying to spook me. I wished they still could.

About two weeks passed of the slogging before we reached Taeya. The entire time the roads were deserted and not even bandits dare challenge our control of it. The merchant said that it was because the war caused everyone to rush to the cities, trying to get a wall between the blades of an army and their necks. It could also be the Lizeers. They were up by my hip now and one had little nubs of antlers already. They would trott off for a bit before bringing back an eviscerated rabbit for Wrath who would cut it for them. The Merchant's daughter who was apparently named Esper would watch with a bleak face. Most children would cry. She must have seen some shit.

Taeya wasn’t a city and even village’s looked large compared to it. Twelve buildings on a hill surrounded by a wooden wall. We didn’t even get to go inside. I wanted to eat something other than hard bread and salted meat from some deer we killed on the trail. The sun rolled over like an obedient puppy for night and still we waited for that doddering fool to buy a horse so that we could keep moving. He was the one who rushed us all the way to nowhere anyways. 

The moon sat fat on its haunches when he finally ambled to the wagon with a mule in tow. His breath reeked of cheap wine and food clung to his face like slop from a pig. The first thing he did when he spotted me was berate my lack of attentiveness guarding his daughter. She was sleeping in the wagon safe and sound but apparently I wasn’t close enough to guard her. You know, forget Wrath curled beside her and the two carnivorous deer. If one thing could be said of him it was his dedication to his daughter. His eyes always searched for her and abrupt panic would ensue if she wasn’t there. 

He seemed to be talkative tonight, inhibition lessened by liquid respite.

“You keep an eye on her, eh Death, just not the killing kind. You should have seen what I did to her mother’s killer’s. Never enough runes of pain for what they did. Tore them to shreds. God I miss her. You hear me? That little girl is the last piece of humanity worth anything. I sold my soul for her.”

A surprise to be sure, the tirade spewing from his mouth. I was tired and he was acting like an idiot with his words blending together. I didn’t even understand anything he said. Instead the wagon beckoned, sleep pulling at my eyelids, so I shrugged him off and laid down for the night. What a crazy old man.