The Mark of Gold

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The Mark of Gold Page 7

by A. S. Etaski


  The air filled first with twin calls of rage, and then Mathias pitched something. There was a crack of sound and a burst of light at the rearing horse’s feet, blinding me as I stumbled from the shockwave with my ears ringing.

  Fuck!!

  My spiders’ feet tickled as they skittered in confusion; I sensed movement around me but couldn’t determine imminent threat where I crouched. How far was I from Gavin’s mare? I squeezed the talisman beneath my glove.

  ~Come to me. Stand in front.~

  *Clever! But let me use your eyes, I shall guide you.*

  I shivered as a large, decaying body loomed above me and stopped. ~No.~

  *Stubborn! Useless! You must give him to me, you promised!*

  ~Better done as if underground.~

  *Fool—*

  That split instant later, I felt the impact rather than heard it, muted squalls and babble closed in underneath the high pitch in my ears. Something pushed my mount with force, and I scuttled toward the center of the path, hoping I didn’t trip over the Dwarf. The mare’s head brushed my shoulder as she stumbled and fell without audible protest, and my spiders left my neck, leaping away behind me.

  I panicked. ~No, wait! Return! Return to me!~

  Their launch was the best warning I had of how close Kurn really was. A large, strong hand seized my ankle, pulling me prone and dragging me to him as I curled up and stabbed blind with the relic. The grip released me at the first graze, the Ma’ab threats furious and slurred, his reflexes so fast they did not seem Human.

  Rithal bellowed not far from me as the flickering blind spots in my vision began to clear. “Mathias, ye bastard! Where are ye?!”

  *There, your senses are healing,* Soul Drinker snarled. *Give him to me! He is close!*

  Indeed, he hulked over and above me, and a second chill darted through me when I spotted the large, familiar black arrow sticking out of the Hellhound’s neck. He didn’t seem to feel it. The whites of his eyes had turned putrid green as he foamed at the mouth with his gums bleeding red. Behind him, the wailing stallion bucked madly, kicking out at invisible targets.

  “Cleanse him, Sirana!” Castis shouted, preparing to cast; what, I didn’t know. “Cleanse him now, or I’ll—!”

  Another black arrow sliced the air and cut him off, lodging in the mage’s chest. The Ma’ab collapsed without another word.

  Oh, no.

  “Gavin, the creature from the canyon!” I blurted.

  *Kill him! It’ll be too late! Killll! Give him to MEEEE!*

  The relic would not be denied. Against all better judgment, I lunged forward as Kurn’s big hands reached for my neck, my arm outstretched like a battering ram. Powerful hands closed around my throat as the point of the dagger touched the armor covering his gut—

  My eyes remained open as he cut off my air. The black metal sank in as though he were naked, yet I strained to push it deeper. The demon shrieked in astonished delight, my ears popped, and suddenly the blade seemed caught in solid stone instead of flesh.

  *Yyyyeeesssss!!*

  Kurn released my neck, his arms dropping like severed ropes. I shook as his greenish-white face stared at me, his eyes madly wide and face erupting in gruesome contortions. The enormous body began to convulse as invisible fire engulfed my hand gripping the blade’s etched handle, heat racing up my arm like molten lava. I could not release the weapon if I tried.

  *Miiiine!* Soul Drinker crowed.

  Violent images flashed behind my eyes; the scent of snow and sweat filled my nose as pale men bellowed around me. The weight of a chain wrapped around my right arm; I tested the swing, imagining it to be magic. I tasted bitterness that the chain had no spikes to pierce my skin, that it would not move through the air at my will. I had no markings, no spells, which could have prevented dying with an enemy’s dagger in the gut.

  She took it all away.

  The small woman had an old, wrinkled face, and she appraised me with disdain. “Divigna says you failed for the last time, Habod Kurn. Report to the Slum Guard Captain. Such an immense disappointment for one with your blood.”

  I shook with rage. I couldn’t see straight, could barely stay on my feet as I braced against a frosty, stone wall. I would make them pay.

  I would make her pay.

  Writhing, blind, I screamed as the voices surrounded me.

  …Hold her down, Castis! Hah! Look at her…!

  Use the poison, that’s it.

  Now grab the Ridhian! Let us go!

  “Are you sure?”

  Far too late for the noble to be asking that, but the ass licker still hoped for more. He would follow me to the ends of all lands.

  We shall meet them at Manalar with anything we can find to break down the walls. We’ll be champions greater than the Hellhound infiltrators.

  I will be rewarded.

  An urgent chime sounded once and held as a sustained, united call. Slowly, the fog in my mind cleared, the heat in my arm dissipated, and I once again felt the tickle of my guardians around my neck. My vision cleared, and I realized it had only been gone an instant.

  I was on the ground, dead center of the grey path cut through the warp rot forest. Before me, Kurn had slumped to his knees, his eyes returned to normal though they were empty of any presence at all. His armor had stopped wriggling, and his skin was as pale as ever, the spittle at the corners of his mouth clear. The black arrow in his neck was starting to dissolve.

  Cold with fear and confusion, I withdrew the relic without resistance now. Its red runes were obscured with blood, and my arm seemed the only thing holding the corpse upright. The big Ma’ab toppled to one side, landing as a sack of bones and meat with no signs of corruption.

  The forest, however, was anything but quiet as it witnessed what Soul Drinker had done. A swell of voiceless calls hurled themselves at the threat.

  We’rrrre commminnng!

  Commminnggg…!

  Fffforrr youuuu.

  Know where! Know how!

  Commminnnng!

  Tear! Rip you freeeeee!

  My heart fiercely slammed my sternum as my eyes swept the skirmish ground. Mathias and Amelda were gone. Rithal stood in front of Gavin and his severely damaged mare, Dwarven axe at the ready. The redbeard stared at the black stallion, which had collapsed, trembling from the poisoned bolt, wailing piteously as it continued to change. My death mage’s eyes turned void black as he searched the forest.

  There were too many problems upon which to focus.

  ~Pick one.~

  The archer was closest.

  I jumped to my feet and issued a challenge to what I desperately hoped wasn’t a Sathoet. “Show yourself, hunter! You were at the canyon, at the town while it burned! You are here now! Come forward!”

  No response but for the distant, approaching screams.

  I continued, “The center of the warp rot heads this way. I hear it! We are down two mages; you killed one and let the other escape! Help us purge the center if you would ever leave this forest again!”

  More silence from the archer. No derisive laughter, at least, and for once, Soul Drinker was silent. No taunts or distractions. Was this good or bad?

  The multitude of voices one valley over swelled above the dripping treetops, sending shivers up mine and Rithal’s spine. Gavin did not tremble but gripped his spade with readable concern. The impulse to run, to try and escape this forest swept me, but all three of us couldn’t sit on the mare.

  Either we leave someone behind to run, or—

  Gavin’s black gaze snapped to the treeline to my right as the lightest of steps exited the corrupted foliage, a stealth unsettling for a creature of greater height than Gavin and larger bulk than Kurn. I saw rough-skinned shoulders, muscular arms wearing only a pair of bracers decorated with metal knots. His skin was the color of purple onyx, oddly pebbled in places but smooth in others.

  Black hair formed a brow peak just visible within a heavy hood, the
rest of the cloak pushed out of the way. Within the hood were yellow eyes, a bestial mouth, and flash of fang which threatened to make me heave. For certain, it was male. My body froze while precious time to run drained away.

  Soul Drinker hissed.

  ~What is he? A Sathoet?~

  *Ha! No.*

  ~Another demon?~

  *Yesss. Do not bargain with him, and by your soul, do not let him take me!*

  Not a Sathoet, though his bare, tough feet were large and sported ivory talons, and the ankle and leg joints were like that of a Priestess’s Son but without the coarse tufts of hair. Further pebbly skin—Scales?—roughened the appearance of the tops of his feet, disappearing beneath a pair of loose pants, which covered his genitals.

  He has a tail.

  He was also armed to the tips. A harness instead of a belt held countless items, covering a chest thrice as broad as mine. His clawed hands were empty; I didn’t see the bow and arrows he’d used. Instead, he bore a pair of long, naked blades, one secured vertically at each shoulder. My eyes traced them swiftly.

  Double-ended. Two weapons, four blades.

  I imagined all too easily them cutting us into meat. It took an enormous effort to project my voice through a tight throat. “Battle mage, help us purge the warp rot. We have little time.”

  I expected him to draw those blades while saying nothing; I waited to learn if his intent remained to kill. My spiders were ready; so was Soul Drinker.

  Instead, the cloaked fighter tilted his head curiously. “A large and dangerous task. What payment do you offer?”

  Of all the Surfacers and their Trade accents, his was disturbingly familiar.

  Before I thought of a price, the mercenary’s glinting eyes offered a suggestion, dropping to the relic in my hand then the ruby around my neck. Unlike a Sathoet, he had pupils. They were vertical and black like a serpent’s, expanding to reveal his interest in my possessions.

  *I will kill you if you try to give me away!*

  The wailing crested and spilled into our valley.

  Ffffuck.

  CHAPTER 4

  I can’t.

  I couldn’t offer him the payment he wanted. The relic was non-negotiable, and I could not hand over to a fourth, powerful male this goddess-damned red stone which had been used so many times against me.

  Yet I had nothing else of worth to a mercenary. Neither did Gavin. Did Rithal have coin? Could it be enough to shift that avaricious stare away from these dangerous, stolen items?

  *Do not bargain with him,* hissed the demon. *His words are binding!*

  “I-I, uh,” I stammered, as the large beast chanced to look away from me, estimating how much time we had before being overrun.

  The creature’s eyes weren’t demonic yellow as was familiar to me. They were metallic gold, their sheen as I’d seen recently. Like…

  Auslan’s eyes.

  I doubted my last Reverie had been Auslan in truth. Cris-ri-phon had seen it before; my dream somehow mixed with his.

  ~What do I see now?~

  *Nothing. He is nothing.*

  ~A far cry from ‘binding’ a moment ago. Are you afraid, demon?~

  *As you should be!*

  ~I see no way to make him leave and survive the warp rot.~

  *Hssss!*

  The fighter looked at me, his hood bowing open enough to glimpse a large, pointed ear.

  I blinked. Are they Elven? “Take down your hood, mercenary.”

  The hunter smirked at me, his gaze steady and unblinking. He glanced at Gavin, who was searching Castis’s corpse, then rumbled, “The corrupted come now, Baenar. I can lead two of you to the center and help purge it. Again, what will you pay?”

  Two of us?

  Was he saying Rithal should run? I dared a glance his way. The Dwarf was visibly shaking, his face flushed bright red; he did not look well.

  Now I reached for the ruby.

  *Do not trade the Ridhian! He will turn it against you! I shall lead you to the center unharmed, we do not need him!*

  My hand froze in place, aching for no apparent reason until I hastily pulled the cord of Shyntre’s pendant, tugging the blue stone out where the fighter could see it. The saphgar clacked against the ruby, creating an odd, white spark.

  A forked, lavender tongue slid out from between the fighter’s dark lips as I read his interest or curiosity. “What is that?”

  “Tragar sapphire,” I said in the Queen’s tongue, “tempered by our most powerful Davrin wizards to turn it this shade of blue. Extremely rare below. Unique on the Surface.”

  The creature arched the dark ridge of his brow but displayed no confusion.

  ~Damn the web, he understands me.~

  *We warned you!*

  Unexpectedly, the mercenary reached to drop his hood where we could see his face. Without drawing attention to them, he displayed the long and tapered ears convincingly Davrin, even above a Sathoet.

  Half-blood.

  The iron grasp of the Valsharess’s geas clamped down on me like a prison chain. I grimaced as the pain and illness swept through me. Despite the dagger’s warning, I couldn’t fail to reach a bargain with him now.

  “Defend two of us to reach the center of the warp rot,” I agreed hoarsely, glancing toward the unseen source of desperate wails. “Do not stop cleansing until the forest is fully purged. Every bit of it. Do this, and my unique treasure is yours.”

  The mercenary considered for mere ticks before holding out his hand for my pendant. “Done.”

  *No deal!*

  Ignoring the dagger and the ache in my chest, I pulled the necklace over my head and tossed it to him. The mercenary caught it without effort. His serpentine tongue flicked out, not quite licking it, before he stashed the blue stone in a pouch on his harness. He raised his voice above the nerve-shredding chaos closing fast on us, sounding neither afraid nor hurried.

  “I suggest the Dwarf escape while he can. He lacks sufficient defense. And that puppet mare cannot stand the coming assault.”

  Gavin and I both knew that.

  “Rithal, mount up!” I said, my irritability leaking into my tone as Soul Drinker spewed a slew of insults at me. “Take the mare and get out of here!”

  The redbeard sounded like he was hearing voices of his own. “Lass, I don’… ‘m sorry…”

  “Get on the horse, Rithal,” Gavin agreed, approaching his mare’s muzzle, and removed a scalpel to place against his pale wrist. “She will return to the road and stay there. You need not wait, especially if it grows dangerous.”

  Rithal’s eyes were fevered and fearful as Gavin smeared his blood across the horse’s mouth, his pupils winking out for a moment. As she shifted to present her broad side to the Dwarf, Rithal stowed his axe on his back.

  “I-I’ll head tah Augran wit’ Osgrid,” he said, “in case I keep hearin’ ‘bout this an’ it keeps spreadin’.”

  I watched as Rithal made a supreme effort to mount the taller animal, jumping from a standstill farther than I thought he could. He got firm hold of her saddle and mane, which held, but his boot missed the stirrup, and his legs flailed a moment. The mercenary glided in before either Gavin or I could act, catching the stout boot with one large hand before guiding and tucking it into the loop of hard leather.

  “Good idea, Rithal,” said the merc. “Now go.”

  The redbeard yanked on the reins and kicked Gavin’s mare out of habit, but she didn’t respond. He looked baffled.

  “Hold a moment,” the Deathwalker said as he secured his spade to the packs with his other belongings. “Do not take anything, Dwarf.”

  “Nah, won’t, swear,” Rithal agreed. “J-just wanna leave.”

  With a nod and flick of Gavin’s left hand, the mare turned around and began a steady trot down the clean path like it was a pleasure trip. The mercenary chuckled watching the Dwarf cling to his way out and pulled out a length of material. I watched as he covered his nose and mou
th, tied it behind his head. Given the spray of liquids coming our way, that was a good idea.

  I struggled to sheath the irritable weapon, but once I did, I felt naked, instantly hungry, and so thirsty. My stomach growled as I hurried to tighten the makeshift mask across my dry mouth, and to coax my reluctant spiders into the safety of their pouch.

  ~You can’t bite anything here. Sorry. Thank you for your help against Kurn.~

  I also thought about my unborn for the first time that day, shocked that I’d forgotten. Knowing what was coming, I wondered if I would still carry Auslan’s spark by tomorrow morning.

  Don’t. Seeing tomorrow at all means success.

  Tomorrow held the possibility to search for Gaelan and Jael.

  Soul Drinker laughed when I drew it again, louder than before. The void inside seemed bigger, emptier, though my hunger and thirst vanished the moment the rune-etched handle settled into my palm.

  *A price, Davrin. Always a price. But there is something to balance your foolish bargain. The Ridhian you kept shall add to our power. We may grow so that we can stun the beast the moment you must escape him, destroy him as you didn’t the Deathless. We will protect you from yourself.*

  The ache spread in my chest; my jaw clenched hard enough to be painful. My gut clenched down. ~Don’t, demon. Stop. I can’t harm him. My Valsharess—~

  *Ha! Coward. You can. You’ll prove it. Wait until we are better attuned, you and I.*

  I blinked to see the half-blood was watching me carefully, and I wiped all expression from my face. “What?”

  The mercenary shrugged, looking to the biggest threat I had been deaf to for long instants. “We prepare now. We have three minutes.”

  Imaginary ticks tapped away inside my head as the fighter reached for both blades at once, grasping behind him at his shoulders. The swords detached readily from his harness, letting his cloak drop full around him. I was certain he deliberately blocked my full view.

 

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