45

“Your brother.” You meant to make it a question, but even as you speak it hits you. Elia mentioned her father and brother having been in that carriage, yet you only found one body. Well, that’s that cleared up. You killed her last living family member, though corrupt he was.

“He wasn’t dead...” she murmurs.

“What was his name?” you ask.

“Rory.”

“He should be buried.” You approach the corpse and stoop down to pick up the pendant. When you look back at Elia, there’s tears in her eyes. **** wasn’t enough to break her composure, but kin actually succumbing to dark forces and turning on each other would likely break anyone. Not that you would know, with your family spitting you out as a mere spare wheel.

“I’ll help you, before I search for your uncle.”

You said you’d help her, to which she agreed, obviously, but really, it’s you doing most of the work. She can’t hardly dig with that broken leg and crutch now, can she? The job takes you beyond the morning and into the afternoon, Elia bringing you a little bread as you work. The beast is huge, and will attract all sorts of horrible creatures to feast on its festering remains, so you make sure to bury it well deep and thorough. By the time you kick it into the hole there are flies flocking to the open wounds already. Even as it crumples at the bottom of your hole you wonder whether it won’t get dug up by some hungry badger or fox. Maybe even a bear would venture this far. For an ape-like creature the demon was very, very meaty.

The sun is out, there are no clouds at all, and it is bloody hot by the time you’ve finished. Your legs become uncontrollably wobbly after you jump up and down on the mound of earth, hardening it some.

“You should rest.” Elia tells you after paying her final respects, breaking a solemn almost silence. It was never going to be really quiet this time of day, what with the birds, the mooing and crooning of farm animals either still locked up or only half-fed by Elia’s limited means, but your hoarse breathing is what ultimately spoils the moment. You have a nagging thought that you should probably set out for the Citadel as soon as possible, but rest is appealing. It reminds you of last time you and your host had to rest. Morally acceptable or not, you’d like more of that.

“All right.” you sigh, releasing your shovel to let it fall on the overturned earth. “I could do with a lie down.”

Turn to 48.