by N M Thorn
As soon as Mrak Delar was out, Aidan sighed and eased himself on the floor. He felt weak and the wounds on his chest and shoulder were still bleeding. But it was Mrak’s betrayal that tormented him more than any physical pain could.
What the hell was that all about? What is Mrak doing and why? Immortality? I can’t believe it…
With no way to heal his tortured body, he gave in to the weakness and let the darkness swallow him.
Chapter 26
~ Zane Burns, a.k.a. Gunz ~
Gunz walked out on the wide empty field right next to the portal leading out of the nexus. He lowered Yaroslav to the ground and sat down next to him breathing laboriously. He had expected that walking through the Fire Salamander portal while holding a protective shield over the vampire wouldn’t be easy, but he had no idea how much energy it would take from him.
It was possibly not only the magical exhaustion but physical as well. In the last few days, he had lost a lot of blood, and decent food and rest had been scarce. And right now, he felt weaker than ever. He sighed, thinking that the world around him was a little too shaky and blurry for his liking, but got up, offering his hand to Yaroslav.
“Zane, wait,” said Yaroslav, taking his hand and rising. “You look like you’re at the end of your rope. Maybe we should wait a little and give you a chance to rest.”
Gunz glanced at Yaroslav’s neck and noticed that the redness had spread wider around the collar and looked angrier with burgundy tentacles reaching down to his chest. He carefully moved his collar up. The burns on Yaroslav’s skin were significantly deeper now, even though less than an hour had passed since he checked it the last time.
“I don’t think we can spare any time for rest,” he said quietly. “We must go at once. I’m afraid you don’t have four days. The way your skin looks around the collar, you have just a few hours at the most. Let’s go…”
They passed through the portal and walked out into the underground room where Mrak Delar left them eleven days ago. Gunz’s heart stalled for a moment as it occurred to him that he was standing under the city he grew up in. It was the city he loved and missed so much, and he would give anything just to walk these streets one more time…
He sighed and waved his hand unfolding the fire curtain of his portal. Then he channeled his magic, but it didn’t come easy to him. The energy of magic here, in his world, wasn’t as readily available as it had been in the nexus and he was so worn out that he could hardly keep a vertical position.
He whispered a spell conjuring the protective shield around Yaroslav and lifted him, placing him over his shoulder. As he did, his legs gave way and he dropped to one knee but didn’t let go of Yaroslav. Grateful the vampire didn’t say anything, he forced himself to his feet and stumbled through the portal.
His calculations were perfect. He didn’t walk out but rather fell through the portal and landed on his knees in the middle of Novak’s office. Carefully he lowered Yaroslav on the floor and leaned forward, supporting himself with his arms. Breathing heavily, he glanced at Yaroslav and his heart fell.
The vampire was sprawled on the floor in the same position he placed him. His eyes were opened, blindly staring into space. The redness around his collar consumed all visible area of his neck and chest. Even though he had a protective shield around him, passing through the Fire Salamander’s portal took whatever strength the vampire had left in him.
“Alucard… Please, say something,” whispered Gunz, switching to their underground fighting names and gently touched the vampire’s icy hand. Yaroslav didn’t respond.
“He’s dying… He has but a few minutes left… Say your goodbyes, Gunz. He can hear you.”
Gunz lifted his head and saw Mrak Delar. The Master of Power was standing a few steps away. He wasn’t gloating over Yaroslav’s desperate situation, but his face showed no emotions at all.
“But it’s been only eleven days. I came back in time.” He looked over Mrak Delar’s shoulder at Novak who stood with his arms crossed next to his desk. “Mr. Novak, we brought you the Apple of Youth and the Water of Life. Please, sir, remove the curse… Save him.”
George Novak didn’t move. He stared at Gunz without blinking. His pupils fluctuated in size, flooding his eyes with blackness and then narrowed down into hardly visible dots. His mouth started to stretch into the semblance of a smile, growing wider and wider until his face distorted into a terrifying mask.
Gunz gasped, involuntarily raising his arm to shield his face as fear chilled his insides. But a split-second later, the mask of horror was gone, replaced by Novak’s human face, like it had never been there, and Gunz wasn’t sure if it really happened or it had been his overtired mind conjuring the horrific vision.
“Give everything to the Master of Power,” ordered Novak coldly.
With shaking hands, Gunz unlocked Yaroslav’s bag and brought the Apple and the vial with the Water of Life out, offering it to Mrak Delar. The Master of Power bent down and took both magical artifacts from Gunz’s hands.
“Now, Mr. Novak, you have what you asked for,” said Gunz, sitting back on his heels. “Save Alucard. Please.”
“No,” replied Novak flatly. “And I want you to know that his death is on your conscious.”
“Why?” whispered Gunz, his words felt like a knife to his heart.
“What were you thinking taking a vampire through the Fire Salamander’s portal?” asked Novak, disgust curving his lips. “Vampires are unclean creatures. They’re nothing but reanimated corpses, held together by the magic of vampiric essence. And you carried him through the purifying fire of the Fire Salamander’s portal. Idiot! Did you seriously think that your meek attempt at a protective shield would keep him safe?”
“Your dark magic was killing him!” yelled Gunz, his anger giving him strength he didn’t expect he still had. “I had no choice. He was dying either way!”
“Your stupidity is only rivaled by your hubris, boy!” Novak jeered, folding his arms over his chest. “I gave you fifteen days. Today was only day eleven. You had absolutely no reason to rush. So, it was you who killed Alucard, costing me my best fighter. His death is on your hands.”
Gunz howled, jumping to his feet, his internal anguish and rage bringing forth his fire. A giant fireball formed in the palm of his hand and he threw it at Novak. Connecting with the power of Fire, Mrak Delar jumped between them and caught the fireball, making it dissipate.
“Fire Salamander, down!” the Ancient Master shouted, moving his arms forward.
Gunz growled fighting his control, feeling his body obeying the command of the Master of Power against his will. An image flashed in his mind and with painful clarity he recalled that moment when he controlled the wyvern by the walls of the sacred garden. He remembered the wyvern’s fiery heart beating inside the grip of his magic, his will dominating that of the wyvern. And he wondered, if that was what the Master of Power was doing to him now.
Through the prism of his fire power, he looked down at his chest and he saw his own flaming heart beating desperately, surrounded by a foreign energy. Gunz channeled more fire power, fighting to burn the intruding magic out of his body. Battling Mrak Delar’s control, he screamed strenuously, slowly rising back to his feet.
For a moment, Mrak’s eyes widened in shock. He channeled more power, connecting to all four elements and increased the flow of his magic. His dark eyes swirled with all four colors of the elemental powers and his magical energy doubled. Gunz retaliated, fighting the mighty control the Master of Power with everything he had left in him.
Novak ran around the desk and found the controller for Gunz’s collar, setting it to maximum strength. The electric shock of the gray stones magic shattered him and Gunz screamed, falling to his knees. But despite the fact that his magic was blocked now, somehow, he was still connected with the elemental Fire. Smoldering flames engulfed his body, burning the magic of the Master of Power into nothing.
“How is it possible?” muttered Mrak Delar. He made an
intricate motion with both his hands and a ray of his magical energy hit Gunz, wrapping around him in a tight hoop. The hoop was shimmering with the colors of the four elemental powers, squeezing him tighter in its grip. Something cracked, and Gunz cried out, his fire slowly starting to die down. Mrak Delar didn’t wait for him to give in and splashed him with a stream of icy water.
Gunz grunted, realizing that he couldn’t fight the magic of the gray stones and the Ancient Master of Power at the same time. As the pain intensified, he stopped fighting and hung his head, seemingly giving in, but his mind was racing a hundred miles per hour, thinking how he could get closer to Novak so he could activate Voron’s rune.
“Master Mrak Delar,” he moaned, allowing the pain he felt to surface in his voice. “Please release me. I’m done fighting…” He raised his eyes at Novak, meeting his unblinking stare. “Mr. Novak… My lord… please, save Alucard and I’ll be yours to do as you please. I will obey your every word.”
Novak nodded at Mrak Delar and the hoop that was crushing Gunz disappeared. He moaned and fell to his knees, bowing his head to his chest. Novak came closer but still wasn’t close enough for Gunz to touch him.
“So, Salamander, am I your lord and master then?” hissed Novak, snidely.
“Yes, my lord,” replied Gunz without raising his eyes. “You are, sir.”
“Look into my eyes,” ordered Novak, taking another step closer.
One more step… just one more… Gunz raised his face, meeting Novak’s eyes. “As you wish, my lord. Please, remove your curse and save your best fighter.”
Novak shrieked with laughter, putting his hands on his hips. “And here I was wondering how to break you into submission, boy,” he managed to say through laughter. “Mrak Delar was right after all. You’re so predictable.”
“My lord, please,” pleaded Gunz, lowering his eyes again.
To his relief, Novak took one more step forward and seized Gunz’s hair, yanking his head up.
“Fine,” he said, a mocking sneer on his face. “Promise me that from now on, you’ll do as I command and kiss my hand. You do that, and I’ll give life back to Alucard.”
“Yes, master, I’ll do as you wish,” replied Gunz, his voice void of emotions. He took Novak’s hand and brought it to his lips, feeling hollow inside. While doing it, he pressed his other hand to his ribs and sent a tiny spark of his fire energy through the rune, activating it.
Novak snickered, staring down at Gunz. Then he patted him on his cheek and kneeled next to Yaroslav. He took Yaroslav’s collar with one hand and Gunz’s with the other and started chanting. Gunz felt his dark magical energy washing over him like a poisonous cloud and his stomach twisted. Fighting nausea, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a brief moment.
A few seconds later, it was all over. Novak removed the curse that was connecting their life forces. Then he got up and headed back to his desk. He picked up the receiver of the phone and pressed an intercom button.
“Please send Theron in and tell him to bring a bag of A-negative,” he ordered and hung up the phone.
While they were waiting, Novak found Yaroslav’s controller and reset it to minimum. By the time Theron walked into the office with a medical bag of blood, the redness on Yaroslav’s chest slowly started to give up its position, retreating closer to the collar.
“Theron, give the blood bag to Gunz,” said Novak.
Gunz took the bag and quickly ripped it open with his teeth. Then he lifted Yaroslav’s head, placing it on his lap and opened his lips slightly. He pressed the bag to his lips, forcing a few drops of blood into his mouth.
At first the vampire didn’t react, but a moment later he swallowed, his eyes lit up with a scarlet glow, and he seized the bag with shaking hands, drinking hungrily. A thin red stream trickled down the corner of his mouth, dripping on Gunz’s leg. The bag was empty within a few seconds and Yaroslav wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Hello, Alucard,” said Novak, once the vampire was done. “Welcome back. Can you get up now?”
Yaroslav stiffened at the sound of Novak’s voice. He pushed off the floor and got up into a kneeling position. “Yes, master,” he said quietly, “I can.”
Novak nodded to him. “Theron, please take these two to clean up first and give them some fresh clothes. Then escort them to their room.”
“Yes, master,” said Theron, approaching Gunz and Yaroslav and easily jerking them both up to their feet.
“And Theron. A couple more things,” added Novak, gesturing at his servant to wait. “Alucard will need more blood to restore his strength. Give him as many blood bags as he asks for. And this one”—he jerked his chin in Gunz’s direction— “will need a nice hot meal. And… hmm… perhaps some vodka. Make sure he gets it.”
“As you wish, master,” replied Theron with a bow.
“After you take care of that,” continued Novak, “I want you to stay outside their door and guard it until I call them in tomorrow night. No one… You hear me? No one is to bother them. If they ask for more food or blood, give it to them. They need to be completely rested and their strength must be restored. Do you understand me, Theron?”
“Yes, master,” replied Theron obediently, “I’ll do as you command.”
“You may leave now,” said Novak, waving his hand dismissively.
Both Gunz and Yaroslav bowed to him and headed toward the exit, escorted by Theron.
Chapter 27
~ Zane Burns, a.k.a. Gunz ~
It was past midnight, but Gunz was in his bed, sleepless. He was lying on his back, his arms wrapped around his chest, afraid to take a breath since every move he made resonated with a sharp pain. When he was fighting Mrak Delar, the Ancient Master of Power hadn’t held back. Infuriated by his resistance, Mrak had squeezed his power-hoop too tight and had broken at least a few ribs.
Gunz wasn’t sure if there was any other damage. He could hardly breathe – his chest seemed to be compressed and every breath was taking an effort. Something wheezed and squeaked every time he inhaled, and his chest sounded like an old accordion.
With his controller set to maximum he couldn’t heal himself. So, he had no choice but to lie still on top of his bed, afraid to make a move. After a while, Yaroslav got up and soundlessly approached him. He took a knee next to his bed and bit his wrist. Pulling on Gunz’s hair, he forced his head back slightly and pressed his bleeding wrist to his lips.
“If you say one word, Gunz, I’ll end you myself,” he said, the hint of a warm smile in his eyes. “Isn’t that what you told me in the Land of Dreams?”
Gunz cringed inwardly at the smell and taste of the vampire’s blood, but he knew it was the only way to heal. His choice was simple – it was either that or keep suffering. He held Yaroslav’s bleeding wrist tighter and kept drinking until the vampire pulled away.
“I will never get rid of you from my head, will I?” he asked, enjoying the fact that nothing hurt, and he could finally relax.
“Count your blessings, little Salamander.” Yaroslav chuckled and returned to his bed.
Gunz closed his eyes and fell asleep almost immediately. Unfortunately, his peaceful slumber was short-lived. He felt a touch to his shoulder and stiffened, not sure he wanted to open his eyes and see who it was. Someone tapped on his shoulder persistently.
“Slavik, come on…” mumbled Gunz.
“Zane, wake up,” said a deep, slightly raspy voice and Gunz recognized Voron.
Gunz opened his eyes and in the darkness of the room, he saw Voron and Yaroslav standing at his bedside. He sat up, lowering his bare feet on the cold floor.
“I’m awake, Voron. Barely but awake,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “I guess it’s not written in the stars that I would get one good night’s rest.”
“You can rest when all this is over,” replied Voron in a low whisper. “You have a guard sleeping by your door. A bulky fellow… So, let’s not wake him up.”
“Theron. He is…�
� Yaroslav chuckled softly. “Let’s put it this way – the muscle bulk compensates for the shortage in other departments. Don’t worry about him.”
“Okay,” agreed Voron, shaking his head and continued, “the rune worked, Zane. We know which dark soul we’re dealing with. Now I understand why he sent Yaroslav with you to the Land of Dreams, connecting your life forces with a deadly dark spell.”
“Well, I’m glad one of us understands…” mumbled Yaroslav. “I thought—”
“Anything you thought, Yaroslav Potemkin, was wrong,” Voron cut him off. “He sent you to the Land of Dreams, hoping that you would perish there. He wanted you dead. He didn’t think the young Salamander would go through so much trouble to keep you alive. He underestimated Zane’s loyalty to his friends.”
“It doesn’t make any sense. I am his goddamn slave, Voron,” hissed Yaroslav, his eyes lighting up with a furious scarlet glow. “He holds my life in his hands in more ways than one. He’s a powerful necromancer and I’m a vampire. He could have made me commit suicide. He could have killed me at any time he wished. All he had to do was swing his sword or wield his dark magic.”
“No, Prince Potemkin, he couldn’t,” Voron objected quietly, sadness clouding his features. “And he knew that he couldn’t. Not without activating the curse Chernobog placed on his soul. Why do you think he abducted and enslaved you in the first place, huh? He wanted to keep the only person who could kill him and send him back to the Dark Nav under his control. You are the trigger, Yaroslav.”
Voron extended his arm and a white light surrounded his hand. When the light dimmed down, Gunz saw an old-style revolver and a single bullet in the palm of Voron’s hand. The bullet had engravings that were glowing with a soft blue light.
“Do you recognize this weapon, Yaroslav?” asked Voron quietly.
The vampire raised his hands, backing away. His face became so white that it was glowing in the dark and his eyes widened in shock.