"How sad," she said, pouting. "I hope I'm not taking away your last remaining funds on account of my story about the bloodskin girl."
"Well, it is a risk I've decided to take," he said. He made a point to look her in the eye before he added, "As long as everything you've told me is true. We've only just got acquainted; you see." His mouth fell open then. "All stop!" He held up his hand to those behind. He rummaged through his saddlebags then.
Gretta reined her camel, brows pinched together with her hand shading her face. "What? What are you doing?"
"The evening sun is on this side of your face and now you are getting scorched," he said whilst he pulled garments out of his clothing bag. "Ah there it is." He pulled out a white linen cloak with a large hood and offered it to her. "Here, put this on and cover your head almost completely, and don't roll up the sleeves. It fits loosely on me, so it should swallow you. The thin linen allows for the desert breeze to cool you."
She stared at it in silence.
"It's not a request," he said.
She took it and put it on without dismounting, but leaving the hood not covering the bottom half of her face. She held out her arms for approval. "Am I not ravishing?"
Kazimir sighed. "You are most certainly, but the hood needs to come down completely around your face. You are already burned as it is. How on earth did you manage to get to Belaz City without learning to protect yourself in the desert?"
"I paid for a carriage," she said. "It was not with pleasant company, either. And we traveled quite a lot after sundown."
"Smugglers," said Xolin.
Gretta turned back to him with a raised brow. "You know, I think they might've been. They also pulled a cart of something in trunks that I was not allowed to go within five feet of. They said it was deadly vipers for the snake charmers, though I never heard any hissing, and they never seemed to give them water or food." She shrugged. "The passage was cheap, though. They only asked that I massage their feet, cook their meals and wash their clothing."
"Oh?" said Kazimir. "So, you give massages?"
"Not the kind you might be dreaming for, my lord, but I can be encouraged on occasion to some deviation." She fluttered her eyelashes.
"We apologize for his behavior, milady Gretta," said Nochtli. "We'd like to say he doesn't mean it, but--"
"It's fine with me." She cut him off.
"There's something up ahead," said Xolin. "It looks like a barrel in the sand."
Kazimir stared hard into the distance. He could barely see a shape in the sand. He was amazed at how good Xolin could see. Kazimir dug out his spyglass from his saddlebag and scoped it into focus. Through ripples of heat, it lay half-buried in the sand. Sparkles of reflected sunlight beamed off the bands on the side of an oaken barrel.
"Do you think someone dropped their cargo?" Gretta said with excitement. "It could be treasure or wine!"
Kazimir put away his spyglass. "Nope. I doubt it. I'm not sure, but I think we should proceed with caution. We should be getting close to Zexultan."
"Oh, sweet Samuel! I hope its water," said Xolin. "My skins are just about empty. Or a good swallow of ale would be nice. I don't care if it is hot."
Kazimir said, "Everyone stop for a moment. I want to go ahead and have a look."
They waited as Kazimir dismounted his camel and walked through the hot sand towards the barrel. When he was right up next to it, it appeared to be crafted recently. The steel bands were free of rust and the wood clean and as light tan as the sand. It had some words printed on it than he could barely read because they scrolled around the barrel into the sand. He bent down to lift it up, and as he did, a hand shot out from the sand and pulled him off his feet by his ankle.
Someone grabbed him around the throat with their arm and lifted him up, pressing the edge of a large curved knife at his throat. At that moment, six other figures rose from the sand nearby, all wearing black turbans and black scarf masks covering their faces and armed with crossbows aimed at Gretta, Xolin, and Nochtli.
"Oh my! This is real, real bad," he heard Xolin say from the afar. Kazimir rolled his eyes.
Immediately, he got an idea. As he made a display of trying to wench the man's arm from his neck with one hand, he nonchalantly flicked some imagery powder from his belt pouch and made the gestures for an illusion, though he hoped he did it correctly, because he couldn't see his hands.
"Sandraiders!" came Nochtli's nasally voice. "We don't have any gold!"
"And we are so hot and miserable, I would advise you keep your distance," said Xolin. "I for one might throw up soon."
The sandraider holding onto Kazimir squeezed tighter onto his neck. Kazimir struggled for breath whilst blurting out, "The woman is very sick. . . Diseased! We are taking her to the healers south of Belaz."
The sandraiders with crossbow turned their heads at Kazimir, then made a nodding signal to the sandraider with the knife.
Kazimir struggled and made an honest effort to pry the sunraiders arm down to no avail. The man had forearms as hard as granite. "Gretta! Show them!" Kazimir managed to yelp. "Remove the hood!"
Gretta pulled back her hood to reveal her face and the sandraiders and Xolin and Nochtli gasped.
"What?" she asked, a little offended.
"You look awful!" said Xolin. "I mean to say, uh . . . It's gotten worse! This is real, real, real bad! Everyone keep your distance. I might just vomit now!" Xolin did just that into the sand then.
Gretta's face had turned green with splotches of black, pockmarked with pus festering blisters. The whites of her eyes had become a sickly yellow. Kazimir couldn't help but be impressed with himself when he saw the flies orbiting her head. That was something he had worked hard to perfect as a finishing touch to sell the illusion.
Gretta looked down at her arms which were covered in blisters, and she caught on quickly. "Oh dear." She feigned a cough and held her stomach. "I do believe I've gotten worse! Please!" She stretched out her hand, fingers splayed. "Stay back. These kind gentlemen here have put themselves at risk to try to find a cure. Don't put yourselves in danger as well. You can have our coin, or here!" She went for the necklace of small fishbones she wore. "Take this, it's worth a silver at least!" She tossed it towards the sandraiders, and they all took a step back, looking disgusted.
The one holding Kazimir released him and gave him a kick in the back to push him away. "Go!" He pointed with his knife, gesturing for them to pass. "We don't want your jewelry or your coin. Take your sickness somewhere else." He tried to wipe his arms on his striped tunic where he had been touching Kazimir.
Kazimir headed over to his camel and mounted. "Let's keep moving or it may be too late for you, my dear," he said to Gretta.
They moved on for another mile before anyone said anything. Then Xolin broke the silence. "Hey, Kazimir! I don't mean to be the whiner, but is this supposed to ever go away?" He had ridden up beside Kazimir to show the blisters and black splotches on his arm.
"Uhm, no," said Kazimir. "I mean yes, it is, but you're not supposed to have any marks. No one is but Gretta." He spurred his camel and sped ahead. "I have foiled once again!"
"Oh no, master! I didn't mean it like that!" Xolin pleaded. "It worked wonderfully! We escaped with our lives. I'm very, very grateful! I was just wondering when it might wear off is all."
Kazimir kept riding silently for a moment before he said, "I don't know, Xolin. And that's the problem. It could turn into a big mistake for us."
15
AEILE
Aeile could hear.
"She's not going to be very strong at first. I mean, I don't think she will be. I'm sure you know better," said someone who had a tender male speaking voice that reverberated. It sounded like they were in a cave.
"That's expected," said another male voice, also reverberating.
This was a cave.
"It'll work out same as always. Will you hand me some of that sewing cord?" His voice was firmer, more assured.
Someone poured liqui
d and clanged of bits of metal.
"Hold her leg."
"Do you think she might feel it? I'm mean, not that it matters, but I wouldn't want it to hurt if we might avoid it. She's got the face of a mother."
"You going sentimental on her? You don't know her. She might be a murderous whore. Besides, she's not feeling a thing. I've completed the last transfusion this morning. She didn't flinch."
"Well, I guess you're right. You know how I get about people."
"This world is not like ours. These are not the same sort of people. We must do what we must do in order to ensure the survival of all of our kind in this world."
"I miss our world. What it used to be, I meant to say. It's surely turning to a cold waste by now. No more orchards or valleys filled with flowers. I hate to think about it."
"Then don't. Just focus on our mission. This can be a great world for those like us and the mortals of Drayth as well."
A surging cold went up Aeile's spine to her head and then all throughout her body from her chest to her fingertips and toes. She opened her eyes. A craggy stalactite hung above her. She heard the waterfall somewhere as background noise. They must've brought her somewhere near it.
"Oh, you're awake," said the firm voice. He leaned over and looked down at her, much the same as he had when he found her on the ground. His face was dusky, and he had thick prominent eyebrows and that long black beard tied with little bones. "My name is Nazurek de Nekros. Welcome back. I have given you another chance at life."
Aeile squeezed her hands together. She felt numb, but she knew her hands were empty. "Where is it?" she demanded.
"What?" said Nazurek.
"The white mariheema! I had it in my hands!"
"Oh, that dirty old flower you had. I tossed it out. It was starting to smell and although I have become acquainted with some pungent odors, that was not one of them." He laughed as if they were discussing a weed flower picked by a child.
"No!" Aeile pulled herself up. They had placed her on a slab of limestone. Another humanoid figure came into view then, stocky with a bizarre looking canine face and skin like golden scale mail. It hissed when it breathed. "How could you throw it away? Do you know how rare it is?"
Nazurek chuckled. "She doesn't sound very grateful does she, Igneious?" Nazurek glared at her. "Maybe when you get some color in you, you will appreciate your immortality a little more."
Aeile looked down at herself. Her naked body splayed out before her with bleached white skin. Stitches dotted up both sides of her injured leg, but she felt no pain. She wiggled her toes to be sure, but it seemed her bones had been mended as well. "Thank you? I guess. What's wrong with me? My skin looks like a corpse's."
"In all definitions of science, you are, my dear," said Nazurek. "But this isn't science at work here. It is the transformation of de Nekros. You cannot be destroyed by mortal conventions. At least, not quite as easily anyways. And you shall never age."
Aeile scratched her hands over her face. "No! I did not want this! I do not want this! I need to save my sister! I need to get more Mariheema!"
"Excuse me, miss, but uh. . . I believe there might be quite a bit of that white flowery plant just outside the cave here," offered Igneious. "You might look to be sure, I mean, I'm not the best at noticing the differences in plants, but I'm pretty sure it looked to be the same as the one you had squashed in your hand."
Aeile swiveled around and hopped off the limestone slab. "Outside the cave?" She stumbled onto her knees in the dirt floor.
"Ah, you see darling, you might need strength before you can walk proper," said Nazurek. "You need to feed. I've just the source of nutrients that should put a pep in your step. And in fact, um, we never caught your name by the way?"
"Aeile," she told them simply. She massaged her legs trying to get a tingle or some kind of sensation beyond the chill.
"Aeile, yes," Nazurek continued. "In fact, Aeile, we can pick some of your special flowers on our way. I have a surprise for you just a stroll down the river from the waterfall."
Aeile furrowed her brows up at him. "What do you mean? I'm not liking the sound of this?"
Nazurek sighed and grabbed beneath her arm to try to help her to stand. "Well, it's better than dead, which you were sinking off into traumatic shock when I found you. You fell into a coma before we got back to the cave and performed the transfusion. I'm not a healer or scientist, but the profession in which I'm highly skilled is a close cousin."
She allowed him to help her stand and took feeble steps towards the light at the mouth of the cave with the support of his arm. As they neared the mouth of the cave, her eyes widened. The waterfall hammered down over the cave exit like a roaring beast, glowing blue-green from the sunlight outside and misting a mesmerizing rainbow right in front of them. She felt compelled to rake her hand through it and watch it disintegrate and reappear. She had never before thought one could touch a rainbow. She had never been this close to a waterfall.
Nazurek pulled her toward the wall of the cave where he grabbed his staff with the skull encased inside the orb on top. The skull tumbled and spun around slowly inside the crystal submerged in its green liquid.
"What kind of staff is that?" she asked. "Does it do magic?"
"Aye, my lady Aeile. Indeed, it does. It is only a walking stick for now, however. Perhaps you will see its magic soon enough. For now, we must feed you." Nazurek assisted her through a narrow gap between the rushing water and the rock, which splattered water over their bodies, soaking Nazurek's robes, but he didn't seem to mind.
"Where are my clothes?" she was asking as they emerged into the open forest, then she screamed and dropped herself to the ground. "Dear Father Forest! The sun stings! It . . . Feels . . .like bees!"
Nazurek cackled. He seemed to laugh much longer than felt natural. "You need to eat! Your body is hypersensitive to the life-giving elements of nature right now."
Aeile tried to crawl back into the cave, but Nazurek grabbed her by her ankles and dragged her back out into the sun kicking. He laughed the entire time. She had broken a leg free and felt like she might get loose, then Ignieous appeared above her head and grabbed her by the wrists. Ignieous's crushing grip felt like his skin was made of teeth. She screamed as they carried her along unable to break free.
Suddenly, all her senses came alive. The breeze in the air felt like acid against her, the sun's stinging rays became like fire. Her eyes dried up, and she could not close them or blink without excruciating pain like the tips of needles being raked across them.
"Here, see?" said Nazurek. "Turn your head down and look beneath you. Lots of the white mariheema you're so fond of, but I tell you, you won't be needing it anymore. You have the power to save whoever you want from sickness and death."
She craned her head back to try to see, though it was difficult with her eyes burning from dryness. They were there indeed, several patches of them clustered near the bank of the river close to the waterfall. She wanted so badly to twist loose and uproot all of them and bag them to take back to her home, but what little strength she had mustered to get up and walk had been drained now. She had to succumb to her captors.
After another few minutes of burning pain, they dropped her down on the forest floor and Ignieous lifted her upright facing two trees where there had been two men tied, one to each. She looked closer and saw that one of them had been dead a while and dried out to a husk, his skin blackened and withered, his jaw stretched open in a frozen scream. Someone had disemboweled him and removed his organs entirely. His stomach had been completely peeled away, along with his abdominal muscle wall. Hundreds of blowflies churned and fought inside his hollow torso. He was the smaller of the two. She hardly recognized him until she saw that the other man was Grendy, and he was still alive. He had been hog-tied to the tree trunk and gagged with a rock in his mouth. Somehow, she found it comically awful that he was still wearing his wide-brimmed hat. She realized at that moment the pain from the sunlight had relieved slightly.
/>
Grendy narrowed his eyes at her, then stared up and down at her naked body and grinned as best he could with the rock in his mouth.
Nazurek grabbed her elbow and put a hook knife in her hand. "I think you know what you must do. I tried to make it easy on you by choosing these two unsavory criminals."
Aeile felt as if something inside snapped then. She was furious at these men, but deep down she knew this was not her kind of vengeance. She stepped up to Grendy and raised the hooked knife up near his throat.
Grendy's eyes bulged, and he did his best to shake his head in an effort to plead for mercy, groaning beneath the gag.
Aeile closed her eyes and exhaled. She dropped her arm back down and let the hooked knife fall to the ground.
"No, no, no! You must do it!" Nazurek snapped, malice in his words. He picked up the hooked knife quickly and put it back in her hand and, before Aeile knew what was happening, he grabbed the hand she held the knife with and forced her to open Grendy's stomach with it from his left hip to his right. His entrails sloshed out like a string of wet sausages.
After her instant reaction of shock, Aeile felt a warmth pass down from her head to her feet as Grendy screamed. Nothing had ever felt as wonderful and satisfying before, no orgasm of fulfillment so invigorating, no dessert as sweet. She felt the suffering of the pain on his face filling her emptiness like nothing ever could. After absorbing the energy, she looked to Nazurek in confusion and bewilderment. "What is this?" She had killed men before when it was necessary, but it had never felt good, in fact it was always one of the most difficult things about being a ranger for her. She knew it had been necessary and just, but the feeling of inflicting pain had always unnerved her deeply. "What is happening to me?"
The Vanguards of Scion Page 9