and a powerful spell sent me staggering back to bed. “Think the last few days have…caught up with me.'
Feeling Kat's eyes on the side of my face, I whispered the word wizard as I lay back down. We had both survived that old man and his swine army. I figured Kat must have done something very special with that katana to get us out alive. How many more bog men did he slay? Tiny little miracles, Daniel, scattered everywhere.
'Your swordsmanship was impressive, Kat. Amazing, actually. I've never seen anything like that. How did you get so…good?'
There was a deep melancholy about the samurai, and an elderly man's frailness. Right now he did not seem capable of the feats I'd seen. Perhaps the last few days had caught up with him, too? He stroked fat fingers over the thin swords, those inanimate objects the only friends he’d ever had.
'The sword is a brush,' he said, soberly. 'After four hundred years, the art of killing is more than mastered.'
I decided not to pry further on our escape. Details were best left to the imagination. It was difficult to remove all the thoughts from my mind though, especially of the wizard. Scarfell was the name. I could almost see his craggy face smeared on the shitty walls here. The more he prayed on my mind, the more Scarfell and Kat seemed to melt together. Two men so dead in the eyes, yet so full of fire.
'The wizard,' I said, sitting up again. 'Before he hit me, he mentioned something about a king? Do you remember?'
'King Bludgeon,' said Kat. 'Lives high in the Macros. He is to train you.'
'Train? For what?'
'Everything!' he complained. 'You must be skilled in various forms of combat before you see any Fortress. I have my instructions.'
Would this afterlife ever stop throwing up surprises? Combat training with a king inside a mountain? What next, I wondered, for wonder was all I could do. 'King Blugdan,' I said dreamily to myself.
'Bludgeon!' corrected Kat, with a ready temper. 'A great honor!'
'I'm sure. And how long will training with this Bludgeon last?'
Kat's profound sigh at the window was like a tired spirit leaving his body. 'As long as it takes…' he grumbled.
'One last thing, Kat, one last thing. Scarfell, he said something about you — the only man ever to fight his way out of Hell. Is that true?'
'No more of wizards!' he yelled, driving his fist through the window. Light immediately filled the shack, illuminating a swarthy floor and new blood over Kat's knuckles. He stormed off into the village, nearly pulling the door from its hinges on his way.
Stunned, I did not follow. No stranger to losing my temper, I didn't take it personally. I was grateful to have Kat now, that was an honor too, and I should not pick at the man's brain for niggling details. Despite my layers of clothing, the frost still bit. I crept out of bed to warm myself with exercise when one of the villagers, without knocking, entered the shack and fixed the door behind her.
'Oh, be seated sir!' she said, escorting me back to bed. 'You've overtired yourself. It's expected. Yes, that's what's happened.' Dressed in a frumpy frock, her age was hard to tell. The engraved lines of her face suggested a hard worker, and far from an attractive one. 'Can't be up and about, sir! Here…' she passed me a clear glass of what appeared to be water. 'A sip and sleep will make you right. Drink.'
My mother taught me never to accept anything from strangers, but thirst taught me differently. I drank her water, parched my crusty lips, and washed down some of the scum lining my throat. 'Thank you very much. I'm Danny, Daniel Fox.'
'Pleased to meet you, conscious Mr. Fox. The samurai had you over his shoulder when he arrived last night. Caused quite a stir with the women, let me tell you. My name is Madam B.'
I smirked. 'Madam B? The letter B?'
'Correct.'
'Unusual,' I said, and she smiled thinly.
'Sorry you're put up in this run down shack. This is all we had to spare.'
'I'm not feeling that bad. I'd rather not be here too long.'
'Good,' she said, unintentionally pleased. 'We,' she stuttered, remembering herself, 'are not used to visitors here, Mr. Fox. Never here. Normally we would say no, but the request came from a great man. We could not say no…We would not. Not to him.'
Newton, I presumed. Like the horses before and added extras of kings and mountains, the scientist had overseen every element of this task. I was in good hands.
'He is a great man,' I agreed, returning her glass. 'How long have you been in this village, Madam B?'
'A long time,' she answered plainly. 'I am the longest now. We are safe at least, perhaps the safest in all the Distinct Earth.' Her eyes suddenly crossed upon noticing the broken window, the shards of bloody glass distracting her from the conversation.
'My companion,' I said, apologetically. 'He has a short fuse.'
Lost in her daydream, Madam B picked up a piece of glass and examined Kat's blood dribbling along its edge. I studied her trance until enough time passed to make things uncomfortable. Coughing for attention, her tired eyes very sharply met my own. 'Madam B?' I whispered. 'Are…you alright?'
'Of course,' she replied, robotically dropping the shard. 'Everything is fine here.'
I tipped my forehead and cautiously approached her. 'Tell me, Madam B, how many people are there in your village? Do you know?'
'There are twenty-five of us, and although your surly friend wanders the grounds now, I would advise you not to do the same, Mr. Fox. Some are still anxious about your presence here. Best wait until dinnertime. A hearty meal will see you both full, happy, and on your way. Yes, no need to stay after your meal. No need at all.'
'No,' I replied, repressing my own feelings, feelings about this stinking icebox, this strange village, and her stranger behavior.
Madam B opened the door, and the protruding lump at her belly immediately appalled me. A trick of the light, I hoped, but a second glance left me with no doubt: She was heavily pregnant. I wavered back to the bed, unsure what to make of it.
'Don't be startled,' she said kindly, caressing her stomach. 'Be with us next month…my little miracle.'
I briefly nursed a dry mouth before regaining some composure. 'I, I never realized you could make babies in the afterlife. New life in death? How can such a thing be…possible?'
She forced a grin. 'Get some rest, Mr. Fox. I will see you at dinner. I'll see you then.'
Madam B left me alone, and I lay down. I was not tired any more. Here in the day and the dark, the frosty walls and rough mattress, roundabout thoughts bounced like countless sheep over the picket fence. Tiny little miracles Daniel, scattered everywhere.
***
It was the headmaster, Margaret McKinney, who told me the news. I could tell she was crying when I picked up the phone, or trying not too, for my sake. It's funny how you're life can change so completely in a matter of minutes, how the earth can so easily open up and swallow you.
'Are you okay, Mrs. McKinney? What's-'
'Their bus went off the road,' she sniffed, apologizing before and after. 'Six dead, Mr. Fox. Two teachers, and four…children.'
The rest was a blur. Margaret didn't have to tell me; I already knew it.
Losing a child is an indescribable feeling. There's no feelings left when the heart has been ripped out of you.
***
I woke with a start, the early light now was replaced by a strong orange musk seeping in though the shed cracks. A young woman nursed me at my bedside, dabbing a soggy cloth over my forehead. No more than eighteen years old, she hid a pretty face behind a fringe of dirty blonde hair, and her body looked as delicate as any I had seen.
'You were crying, mister,' she said, her voice soft and pleasant. 'Never seen a fella cry before.'
The drying tears on my cheeks confused me. I slouched up, then cleared them with both palms.
'A nightmare?' she asked.
