The Dead Seas

My heart sinks. That must be whose blood is upstairs.

“No,” Chesrie answers apologetically, “we don’t know anything about what happened. We were hoping maybe you knew something.”

“Just that they took her. She was coming back for me. It was supposed to be our chance to escape. That man must have followed her when she snuck away to come get me. He came from behind and hit her when she was about to move the table. She fought back, but he hit her again and took her away. He must not have seen me.”

“What were you two trying to escape from?” I butt in.

“The Day of Tribute,” she answers solemnly.

Chesrie and I stare at each other confused. Kindra seems to pick up that we have no idea what she’s referring to.

“How could you come here not knowing what that is?”

I doubt either of us is willing to answer that question, especially to an innocent child. I glance once more at Chesrie, hoping that she will have something to say, but she is just as stunned as I am at Kindra, who to our relief stops pressing for answers and decides instead to enlighten us on what is going on.

“The day of tribute is why I’m down here. My mother gave birth to me in secret. No one knew she was even pregnant. That way, when the day of tribute came, I wouldn’t be the one offered up.”

“Offered up?” Chesrie perplexes.

“Every five years, when Maltehom comes, someone from the island is given to him as a tribute. My mother says that it’s because he collects souls to take back to his lair underneath the Dead Seas. A long, long time ago, he came to take everyone on the island there, but our leaders made a pact with him. Instead, they give him a tribute, one person, every five years. Today is the day he comes.”

I’ve been told about Maltehom many times before, but the stories are all different. The most recent one I heard was actually from Anwir. While we were traveling from the mainland out to the archipelago, he was teasing Chesrie about how Maltehom was going to get her and that there was nothing she could do about it. It made me laugh at the time, but I don’t feel like laughing anymore.

“Do you know where all the people are?” I ask.

“On the other side of the island. That’s why my mother thought this would be our chance to get away. Because the tribute is done at the western harbor and everyone has to go, there would be no one to stop us. She was going to be so careful. She’s so smart. I don’t know why she wasn’t able to get away unseen. Unless…” she trails off.

“Unless what?” Chesrie begs, but Kindra begins crying.

“No, why would they do that?” she whines to herself. “This year was supposed to be different.”

“Different how?” I interrupt, but we all go quiet when the steps of someone above us suddenly reverberate through the floor.

We become absolutely still when the person stops moving, perhaps having noticed the displaced desk.

I look up at the trapdoor, grateful that I decided to lock it. After a second, the person hurries across the room and tries to open it. The trapdoor rattles violently, matching the rapid beating of my heart, while my terrified lungs panic for air. But though the door shakes and shakes, it does not budge, and just as quickly as it came, the rattling stops as the person seems to disappear.

“There’s another way out,” Kindra whispers, pointing toward the far corner of the room. “My father built it before he died.”

“Let’s go then,” Chesrie says as she lifts Kindra to her feet.

We move slowly across the room. I glance up at the floor above, wondering if the person is still there. When we get close to the corner, I realize that there actually isn’t a corner at all. Instead, a cavity between two rocks forms a tunnel that can be crawled through, though it’ll be a tight fit for Chesrie and me.

“It’s safe,” Kindra reassures. “I sneak out sometimes when it’s night.”

She then quickly disappears into the crack. Chesrie looks at me as though she expects me to go next. I oblige, getting on my knees and crawling through. Kindra greets me on the other side, which ends up being a small cave. I have to crouch when I get up, as does Chesrie, who emerges right behind me. The three of us then climb a steep slope toward the cave’s entrance.

We surface just behind the hut in a patch of trees and bushes concealed by large boulders. Chesrie grabs Kindra’s hand and starts walking north with

her, I presume to get back to Anwir and the boat, but I have to look back first. I need to know where and who our pursuer is.

I step around some foliage to get a good view of the hut’s interior through a side window. Once I am in position, I see a shadowy man, who immediately glances my way, forcing me to duck out of view. I breathe hard, fearing that he saw me. Slowly, I crane my head around and look in again. His focus has returned to the floor. He is holding something in his hands, an axe, which he starts swinging aggressively at the trapdoor.

“We need to find Anwir,” Chesrie insists, tugging awkwardly on my shoulder to pull me away.

Kindra stares at me as I turn. Her gaze is empty and a little disconcerting at first. I have to remind myself that she isn’t a third my age and that my sister and I are probably the first people she’s interacted with in a long time other than her mother. I still don’t completely comprehend why.

“Are you going to help me find my mother?” she asks so innocently that the thought of not doing so feels absolutely wicked and heartless.