Venator

  "You ruin everything!" it yelled from a shapeless face. "Why won't you die?"

  "Good question," Lorin said as he released the arrow. It flew true, but the creature was fast and moved away enough for the arrow to only hit its shoulder. Lorin nocked his last one and was about to draw when his previous arrow was shot back to him. His armor deflected the arrow tip, so it only pierced about a thumb's width deep into his leg. The dopple was still standing beside the hatch with both its arms molded into a gray fleshy bow.

  "We don't need to fight," Lorin gritted out as he snapped the arrow shaft off as close to his armor as possible. "The guards are after us both anyway."

  "Yes we do, worm, but I won't string you up again. I'll gut you here and now." The dopple’s voice was still combined and strange.

  "Again?"

  "So slow!"

  It rushed Lorin, and he let his arrow fly. The tip pierced the midsection of the dopple, but didn't seem to slow it. Lorin collapsed his bow and drew his daggers just as the dopple jumped for him. He cut one appendage and ducked below the other. The move, on flat ground, would have allowed him to spin behind the charge and slash his opponent's back. When muscle memory kicked in, however, his first step was too high for the roof slant and he instead shoulder-rolled to a slide down the roof. Digging his dagger into the shingles slowed him before the edge, and he stood to see the dopple gripping its cut limb to stop thick red from pouring out.

  "What do you mean?" Lorin said.

  The dopple looked up from its wound and shifted. Varron stood there now, rubbing the cut on one arm. Its eye had the same burning hatred that Lorin remembered from that day in the Wilds.

  Lorin's head grew light and he had to blink sanity back to himself. "It wasn't Varron?"

  "I was to feed the Queens," the dopple said in Varron's voice. "Because of you, my Masters wanted to kill me. But he"—the dopple hugged itself and smiled sweetly—"saved me again." Its eye burned back at Lorin. "Until you ruined everything."

  "You killed my family."

  "You killed the Queen and took my eye. You deserved more."

  "My family was innocent."

  "The Queen needed food. You should've just died."

  "You came to my home."

  "That you built on hers!"

  "Why pretend to be Varron, then?"

  "He is my love, and everyone loves him."

  "You would destroy his reputation by doing what you have."

  "There were no other survivors to speak out, and who is going to believe some wild-man over my sweet Varron?"

  Lorin's hands looked like ivory decoration on his blade grips, and they shook with rage. "Why did you follow me here?"

  It scoffed. "I didn't. After you interfered, I needed to earn my Masters’ forgiveness. Stopping the old Baron from continuing to expand his borders was my task, but it also let me stay with my love." The dopple shaped like Varron let its arms tense to its sides. Varron's previous cut was now completely healed over with fresh blood trailing from the unblemished skin. Lorin chastised himself for letting the dopple stall and heal itself before he took his stance.

  "That eye," Lorin said with a point. "I'm cutting that out first."

  The dopple smiled wider than seemed possible and shifted.

  "Bastard," Lorin said under his breath.

  It had shifted into Lorin's wife and began to run its hands up and down over itself. "This was a perfect skin for a washer woman and whore. I and many others used it well."

  That was it. Lorin charged up the roof, knowing it was a mistake, knowing the disadvantage he had, and knowing he would lose. Every step pushed blood from his arrow wound, but every shot of pain only fueled him more. The dopple continued its dance until Lorin was a few steps away, then molded its arms into spears. Lorin anticipated the thrust and while charging ahead threw one knife before he spun to step aside. Knife throwing wasn't a strength of his, so the blade's tip was pointed too high and off center from where he wanted it. The razor edge, however, was sharp enough to dig in and stick just above one of the dopple’s breasts. The dopple winced and its spear thrust went high. Lorin used the moment and grabbed the arm to lever it around his shoulder and pull the creature off balance. It worked, and the dopple stumbled a step down from the ridge toward him. Lorin stabbed his knife low and grabbed for the embedded one at the same time. Both blades back in hand, he was about to mince the creature in a flurry of attacks when he saw his wife's face incoming with a head-butt. He heard a crunch that sparked his vision and forced him take a step back.

  Warmth poured over his chin, and he tasted a mouthful of blood before his eyes cleared. Then he could see his wife in front of him, rubbing the stab wounds above her hip and chest as blood stained her hands. He didn't want the dopple to heal itself again; however, his first instinct to rush and attack was stilted. Trying to gut his wife was unsettling. He refocused and looked at his opponent—not the skin it was wearing, but the creature that controlled it. He charged, and she stopped repairing herself to put up a defense. They battled across the ridge line of the building in the red-orange sunrise, with bits of gray weapon flesh being severed away and rolling down the slope.

  Lorin was outclassing the beast in combat and pushing her to the end of the roof. He saw a low thrust at his knee heartbeats before it came and stepped in to capitalize on it. It was too late for him to realize the faint, however, as the dopple faked the thrust to get low and spear tackled him. Lorin was ready to spin, but not to dodge that. They landed hard and both began to slide with the dopple using Lorin as a sled. Lorin was gasping for air and batted away a slash aimed for his neck while they slid. His lungs ached, but a few shallow breaths satiated their pain before he saw a spear tip above his face. The dopple stabbed down, and Lorin moved his head just in time for it to graze his ear. Its thrust stabbed through the roof and jerked the dopple to a stop while Lorin continued his slide.

  He couldn't see it, but he knew the roof's edge was getting close as he jammed his knives down. They buried themselves in, but didn't slow him as much as he’d hoped. Lorin felt support for his legs and waist drop out from under him before he finally stopped and hung over the edge. A glance below him showed the courtyard with half a dozen bodies of battered guards laid out around the gargoyle still standing guard at the door. In a half circle around the gargoyle, twenty or more Thornguard faced it, holding their ground with weapons ready. Lorin knew this perspective over the courtyard well, just not from this high up. Lorin looked up the slope again to see his wife struggling to pull her gray spear arm from the hole it had made in the roof. He tried to pull himself up, but the morning’s events had taken their toll and just holding himself was a struggle.

  A thought came to him and he reached his legs to the wall under the roof's overhang. By feel he searched with his feet, but only found solid wall as far as he could stretch. In that time, he saw the dopple free itself and turn to him. Panic rose in his heart as options began to dissolve away. Desperate, Lorin lifted one dagger out of the roof, allowing the other to slide until it thankfully stopped at the very edge, leaving Lorin dangling by one arm. His eye-line now had dropped below the overhang, so he couldn't see the dopple approach, but it did let him see what his feet could not: Ashmere's old cell window. It was a little lower that what his feet could reach before, but now he easily got one foot placed on the ledge and the other hooked in behind one of the bars. He lifted himself to keep weight off his knife and called down, "Up here!"

  He watched all the guards, as well as the gargoyle, look up to him. The guards terrified, the gargoyle curious.

  "Crossbowmen," Lorin continued. "Shoot the one with spears for arms!" Of the five, three raised their weapons, but the other two remained still.

  "Guards!" Varron's voice called from above Lorin. "Don't listen to the intruder—shoot him by order of the Baron."

  Before the dopple had finished its order, Lorin jumped off the window ledge and pulled up hard on the roof. It worked, and he half jumped, half lifted himself so
his waist was past the roof edge. The dopple currently had shifted into Varron and was very surprised to see Lorin plunge two daggers into its chest. But now, Lorin's jump had reached its apex and he was beginning to drag the dopple down with him. It shifted its arms to spear the roof and strained to hold the two up.

  The dopple opened its mouth, but instead of words its voice sounded like rocks tumbled by water and sand pouring across boulders. Then, it let its arms shift, and both the dopple and Lorin fell. Lorin pulled one blade out and tried to turn as they fell so the dopple would hit the ground first. But the ground didn't come. Lorin felt stone arms wrap him and the dopple to the gargoyle's chest. The winged beast had jumped and caught the two as they fell. The cobbles below cracked and quaked, but Lorin barely felt the impact of the landing. He stole a glance at the gargoyle and saw it intently focused on the dopple. It was obvious now they were partners of a sort, and Lorin wasn’t sure if his temporary alliance with the gargoyle would last much longer, so he acted fast.

  "I still have these." Lorin waved his blades so the gargoyle could see.

  Fear scratched through its face, and it dropped him like a maggot-filled fruit. Lorin didn't take a second longer than he needed; using his daggers, he swiped at the stone leg closest to him severing the foot. The separated stone exploded into dust and sand, creating a cloud around the three. The gargoyle screamed a thunderous sound of boulders shattering against each other and it jumped with a flap of its wings. The force of air from its leap forced Lorin flat and blew more dust up. Laying on the cobbles, he felt a distant rumble and assumed it was the landing of the gargoyle's jump. He wanted to lift himself up and look to see where the two were escaping, but his body refused.

  The dust settled, and he saw the shocked faces of the Thornguard surrounding him while he laid prone. Their weapons pointed in at him, but none were meant to strike.

  "I yield," Lorin said, then let his daggers drop beside his hands. Two of the guards used their swords to pull the weapons away from him, and once they were clear three rushed in and pulled Lorin to his feet. They held him up as they walked into the house.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  "That arrow was for me wasn't it?" Varron asked. He stood behind two Thornguard at the top of the stairs in the mansion foyer.

  "It was," Lorin said, wobbly legged and being held up under his arms by two guards. A third was in front, holding his sword leveled at Lorin's chest.

  "Mmm, well then your aim isn't that bad. Your plan was to kill me?"

  "It was, but I was wrong." Lorin barely had energy to lift his chin from his chest. "I'm sorry. I really thought you were to blame."

  "Could've been a big mistake, but I could see myself making the same one."

  "It knew you."

  "A long story, but we crossed paths when I was younger. I fell in love then as well." Varron looked out into a memory. "More people died that time, though."

  "When is my execution?"

  "I haven't decided." Varron pushed past his guards and walked within half-a-dozen steps of Lorin. "Do you deserve to be executed?"

  "I passed that judgment on myself long ago, so I am not the one to ask." Lorin smirked and spit out blood on the polished stone floor.

  "You did attempt to kill me after breaking into my home. That is, of course, after escaping my prison by burning it down along with all of my good wine."

  "Looking back, I am sad about the wine. But you had Ashmere killed for no reason, and I was in a hurry."

  "I didn't give that order—the dopple did behind my back."

  "Makes sense. I am a little woozy, so forgive my incompetence."

  "Lorin, this is my problem." Varron walked closer again and rubbed the stubble on his chin. "I like you. You are a man of action and skill that followed a noble goal to completion, mostly. I owe you my life, for in trying to take it, you saved it. However, you are an escaped prisoner and you tried to murder me. I cannot forgive that."

  "I wouldn't either. Also, I killed an old man named Gunter who had been invited to your wedding. I hope you didn't know him well," Lorin said with a shrug.

  "That doesn't help your case."

  "I don't care if it helps or not. He was selling children. I'd kill him again if I could."

  The room grew quiet as Varron thought and Lorin tried to rest. All Lorin wanted right now was a drink and some sleep.

  "Guards, set him on that chair and leave."

  All the guards saluted and filtered out the closest doors once Lorin was draped over a plush couch. Varron kept three steps back and looked over Lorin.

  "It escaped?" Varron said.

  "I stabbed it, but I don't think that is enough to kill it. After that, the dopple escaped—the gargoyle carried it away, but I didn't see where."

  "Can you kill it?"

  "I don't see how that matters." Lorin looked up from the soft leather. "And I don't like that question. I spent a year in prison training and planning to murder the man that killed my family. Do you know what that means?"

  Varron remained silent.

  "I spent my time and energy for nothing, not even knowing I was fixated on the wrong person. Now after I just messed that all up, I am going to be executed without avenging my family." Lorin stood and walked to Varron on wobbly legs. The hatred he’d nurtured for so long still tore into his subconscious, and he saw himself strangling Varron before he said, "And you are asking me if I could've killed it."

  "Can you?"

  "Didn't you even hear me?" Lorin rubbed his eyes and calmed himself. "Yeah, sure, if I was free maybe I could kill your shape-shifter. But finding it is probably harder than the fight. I would have to research some books from your library, find a way to pay for travel, and then get something to kill it. But what does it matter?"

  "If you escaped before your execution, got your weapons, a book or two and some coin… could you find it?"

  Lorin searched Varron's face to see any crack in his serious expression. "I would like to," Lorin said, matching Varron's posture. "But I want to be clear. Will I escape?"

  "You have done it once already." Varron smirked.

  "I'll be a wanted man."

  "You already are."

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  The chilly air was growing a sharper bite as the moon rose and its pale crescent lit up Lorin’s silhouette, standing and watching. In the stone building near him he could hear movement, but his focus wasn't on that or the moon or the headstones planted around him. His focus was on the tree that grew in the graveyard. The branch that had snapped from his hanging had been cleaned up along ago. The tree, however, still commemorated its amputation with lighter tones of bark.

  This night the tree looked so different than the first time he had seen it. The bare branches that curled from the trunk were budding with green, while the swooping branches looked comfortable and called for him to rest. But Lorin stood, waiting. He saw the moon travel past a few of the higher branches by the time his wait ended.

  "Hello? Who are you?" the voice Lorin had been expecting said.

  "A guest of yours from quite some time ago, Arthur," Lorin said and turned to the grave tender.

  "Lorin! I didn't think I would see you here again." His smile and wide eyes brightened the night. "Well, no, that's not true. I did, but not alive."

  "I'm glad you're alright. I was told you were killed before I was dragged off."

  "Hardly! They beat me for a while, but Cathrine stopped them before they did any damage. Are you back to kill yourself?"

  "No, that's not why I'm here." Lorin walked down to the man and allowed the offered hug. "I wanted to thank you."

  "Anytime you need a hug I am always ready."

  "I wanted to thank you for helping me when I really needed it. You made a big difference to me."

  "Anyone would."

  "Not everyone—some, maybe, but not everyone." Lorin looked down at the grave he was standing over. "Thank you for burying Ashmere. I didn't know where else to send her, and I thought this would
be the best place."

  "It's what I do. Were you two close?"

  "Very."

  "I'm sorry."

  "I am too."

  The two both let a silence linger and looked over the chiseled headstone as moonlight sparkled in its embedded quartz.

  "You paid too much anyway. I have the extra inside."

  Lorin smiled. "Save it for lunch tomorrow."

  Arthur mirrored the smile and hopped in place. "You mean it?"

  Lorin nodded.

  "Oh I am excited!"

  "I am too."

  "Did you… did you do what you needed to do after you were taken?"

  "No, I failed actually." Lorin snorted a laugh. "Failed pretty spectacularly, to be honest."

  "Oh, oh no." Arthur's expression dropped. "You did come here to die."

  Lorin put his hand on Arthur's shoulder. "No. I had a lot of time to think it over, but I failed many times and yet life continued. During the low points, I was only living… existing. But now that I am standing here, I actually feel alive." Lorin looked out at nothing and continued. "Honestly, I thought about it as soon as the dust settled but… It’s strange. I still have the call to kill myself in the back of my head. I don't think it will ever fully go away. I know now, truly know, that killing myself won't help anyone, even myself. There are people that would care, you included, if I died, yet I don't owe it to you or them to live. I think I understand what I need now, but that tree and rope aren't part of it. I think right now, I don't want to be living by just not dying." Lorin put his arm around Arthur and began to walk with him to the building. "Enough of that, though. I have something to give you."

  "Oh, really? What? Tell me!"

  "You know the couple that owns the lumber mill close to here?"

  He nodded eagerly.

  "I was there in the afternoon on a call like this one and I sold my land to them for a promise. They can use the land as long as they don't change the homestead." They reached building and stood outside the door. "You like living here, right?"