A middle-aged man suddenly appeared, pushing the cloth to one side and slipping through. His graying hair fell over his forehead and he combed it back with his fingers. He sniffed loudly, working to keep his runny nose under control. He pulled a faded blue cloth from the back pocket of his coveralls, wiped his scarlet nose with it and returned it to his pocket.
“Damned cold. I’m Simon Tildorn. Can I help you?” His voice rasped.
“I need to send a message to Oldenmill, Simon.” Delas pulled the cylinder from her pouch and placed it on the counter.
“May I see your talisman and the signed request form from the administration office?”
Delas didn’t look away from the gaze of the older man. In a firm voice she replied, “I’m not a student here. I just need to get my message to Oldenmill. It’s very important.”
The man released a deep sigh, shrugged his shoulders, and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t help you. I’d like to, but the rules are what they are. I could lose my job if I send unauthorized messages using the system here. Now, move along. You shouldn’t even be on the grounds here if you’re not a student. If someone finds out, they’ll lock you up, they will. Take your message and go. We didn’t have this conversation if you leave right now.” Simon made a shooing motion with his hand in the direction of the silver cylinder.
Delas didn’t move to scoop up the metallic object. Instead, she dug into her pouch for the other object that Amber had given her. She held the walnut-sized ruby between her thumb and finger, so that the light caught the glowing stone just right, her hand taking on a shimmering, bloody appearance.
“Oldenmill, you say?” Simon asked, reaching for the silver cylinder.
* * * *
Jennifer tried to open her left eye again and was able to force it open despite the swelling of the lid and the surrounding tissue. Her right eye was sealed with congealed blood and torn tissue. Her body ached from the beatings she’d endured and now she lay on her side, afraid to move.
Her breathing was shallow, as anything deeper brought a piercing stab of pain from her side. Before she passed out, she touched her side with the two non-broken fingers on her right hand and decided she probably had at least one and possibly two broken ribs. The fresh wave of pain from the probing brought with it a wave of nausea she fought successfully. She didn’t want to imagine the damage she would do if she convulsed during a vomiting spell.
Her mouth was dry and swollen, her lips split and coppery tasting. The guards took turns, first slapping her before turning to their fists and their feet, viciously kicking her until she passed out.
She woke to the feeling of warm water flowing over her face, stinging as it flowed over her wounds. Moments later, she realized the source of the flow was a guard relieving himself on her inert form. She tried to get away, but found her legs cramped and weak from abuse. Her attempt to escape brought raspy laughter from her captors. She turned her body, but felt rough hands grab her, pinning her to the floor.
She turned her head to one side and saw one of the guards speaking to another in a language she didn’t understand. The one being spoken to nodded and stepped through a door, closing it behind himself. The other one chuckled and slowly walked toward her.
Jennifer struggled against the hands holding her, to no avail. She was being manhandled with little effort, thrown over the edge of a small table, which caught her waist and knocked the wind from her. Pain shot through her, and her stomach lurched. The guard holding her down grabbed her wrists, pulling her tight against the table, and spit out a laugh filled with evil.
She pulled to get free, but only succeeded in increasing the tightness of the grip holding her. She fought to get around the edge of the table, but her body was stretched across it too far to let her free.
She felt hands behind her, grabbing at her waist, holding her in place. She fought harder to get away, like a trapped animal as it dawned on her what they were going to do to her.
Stars filled her vision as her head slammed into the tabletop. Blood streamed from her nose and her consciousness was quickly fading. She felt the bottom of her dress tear away, but was unable to stop it. Her mind drifted miles away from her body. In the same distant feeling, she felt the rough hands on her hips, and as the world was about to black out completely, a searing pain shot through her as the guard roughly entered her. She cried out as the guard continued to fill his need. She felt her flesh tear and blood flow down her thighs. The pain overwhelmed her mind and she was consumed in the blackness that enveloped her.
* * * *
“Well, aren’t you a pretty thing.”
The words stopped Delas as she reached the bottom step. In the time she’d been in the office, the light dimmed and the students disappeared. She remembered supper was scheduled and nothing could clear the square faster than the call that food was available. She looked to her right in the direction of the voice and spotted the trio of large boys she’d seen earlier. The world took on a bluish tint. Energy swirled all around her. She turned around and tried to make her way back up the stairs, but couldn’t advance beyond a few steps.
“Look what I’ve caught,” the largest of the boys said, his voice filled with an edge that scared her.
Her stomach leapt to her throat as her gut told her this wasn’t just a young magic user having fun. She fought to keep her fear at bay and out of her voice.
“Release me. I’m sure you’re just having fun with your friends, but this isn’t funny.”
The spellcaster held his hands out in front of him and showed no sign of dropping them. Instead, he laughed and the others joined in and slapped him on the shoulder. They glanced around the empty courtyard, and then one of them spoke, his head darting back and forth and pointed at her.
“Where can we take her, Heron?” He chuckled once and then his pockmarked face grew serious as he looked around again. “We need to get her off the street before someone sees us with her.”
“You think I’m stupid, Gwinn? I know we have to take her to some place quiet,” Heron hissed through clenched teeth. In a smooth move obviously honed by repetition, Heron swung around, allowing his full, intimidating form to tower over his smaller friend. He reached out and grabbed Gwinn’s face, shoving him backwards. He stumbled into Redden, who stepped to the side allowing Gwinn to tumble to the ground.
“Hey Redden, who’s the stupid one now?” Heron asked, turning to his friend, and they both burst into laughter.
The blue energy holding Delas dissipated immediately causing her to stumble forward and fall into the dirt.
Finally, she thought.
She wrapped her hand around a smooth stone the size of a chicken egg, stood and let the stone fly.
The rock struck Heron above the eye, split his brow, and caused him to stumble. He cried out and blood flowed into his eye and down his face. Heron’s hands flew to his face and he looked at his sticky hands through the flowing blood.
“Oh you’re going to pay for that,” he screamed, and advanced on Delas, only to be stopped by Redden.
“Leave her alone, we need to get out of here, Heron,” Redden said, holding his friend back with a hand to the front of his blood soaked shirt.
Heron batted the hand away, and shoved Redden to one side. “Get out of my way. If you and Gwinn want to leave, then go. She won’t get away with what she did to me.”
Heron pulled a short dagger from a sheath at his hip and stepped toward Delas.
Chapter Twenty Two
“I think it’s time for you guys to leave,” Adam said from behind Redden and Gwinn. Both boys jumped at the sound of the voice. When they looked behind them, their eyes widened.
Gwinn stumbled over his own feet, trying to get away from the figure with the sword and managed to fall into his friend, causing them both to lose their footing and end up in a dusty pile on the ground. Adam charged the two, his sword swinging in a wide arc. Rolling free of one another, they took off, disappearing around the corner of the messaging bui
lding, leaving Heron alone, sandwiched between the prone Delas and Adam.
“You can scare those two half-wits off with that sword, but you’ll have to do better than that with me,” Heron said, pointing the knife he held at Adam.
“Look, we don’t want any trouble,” Adam said, and immediately wished he could have taken it back. It sounded weak, which was not how he felt, but he was more afraid of the situation escalating. He darted his view at Delas, long enough to see her nod, and then reverted back to Heron.
“Trouble?” Heron, spitting crimson onto the ground. “You’ll get your share of trouble and then she’ll get what’s coming to her.”
Heron transferred the knife from one hand to the other and held his free hand out in front of him.
“Look…” was all that Adam got out before Heron closed the distance between them, his blade slashing in short arcs in front of him.
Adam countered, deflecting the blade to one side with his sword. He quickly stepped back, trying to get space between the two.
Heron leapt forward, pressing the attack. His dagger caught Adam in the shoulder, but glanced off the leather tunic. Adam kicked out, catching Heron mid-thigh, causing him to stumble.
Heron regained his balance and stepped forward again. His dagger darted in front of him.
Adam brought his sword down and Heron parried it with the smaller blade, forcing the larger blade off to one side.
Heron closed the distance immediately, his knife jabbing in short thrusts that Adam twisted and bobbed to avoid. Adam reflexively reached out to push Heron away and immediately knew it was a mistake.
Time seemed to slow as Adam watched Heron’s blade slash toward him. The pain was immediate. A searing pain shot up his arm as the edge of the dagger sliced across his palm. Blood flowed from the open cut.
We’re going to die here, Adam thought.
Adam recoiled, pulling his bleeding hand inward, tucking it under the other arm’s pit, to stop the flow of blood. His sword swung wildly in front of him, in pure defense as panic overtook him.
Suddenly, Heron stopped, his eyes wide and his mouth gaping, without a sound. He looked down in surprise at the slash across his lower belly, his guts slipping free as he tried to hold them in. Blood flowed freely through his fingers and he dropped the dagger and fell to his knees. Blood pooled at his knees in a crimson puddle.
“I…” He groaned and fell forward, clawing at the ground around him.
Adam sheathed his sword, stepped over Heron’s body and ran to Delas’ side. She threw her arms around him and hugged him close. They turned as Adam scanned the courtyard for returning students. Wincing, he took Delas’ hand in his uninjured one.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Are you? Look at your hand.”
Adam gingerly opened his hand, breaking the clotting blood and he gritted his teeth at the jagged pain. He closed his hand again into a tight fist. Fresh blood oozed through the cracks.
“It’ll be okay. Grab your pack. We need to get out of here.” Adam ran to where he’d dropped his pack and lifted it with his right hand, struggling to get it onto his shoulder. Delas helped him get it settled and the two took the shortest route to the surrounding trees and their relative cover, before Heron was discovered and the alarm was raised.
They continued in that direction, keeping the Library at their back as the forest got steadily denser.
* * * *
Adam and Delas walked on, adding distance until they finally stopped when they stumbled into a small stream, soaking themselves up to their knees. They retreated to the grassy shore and Adam knelt down, dipping his wounded hand into the cool water. Delas knelt beside him and pulled a new dressing from her pack. She took his hand in hers and gently rubbed at the clotted blood to clean the wound. With the wound exposed, a small trickle of blood leaked into the clean dressing Delas wrapped around Adam’s hand.
“I think we’ll just have to give it time and try not to disturb it,” he said.
“Shhh,” Delas whispered to him, once again taking his hands in hers and she closed her eyes. With the barest of movement, she rocked back and forth, whispering some words under her breath that Adam strained to hear, but gave up after several long moments. Delas continued to whisper for almost a minute and then stopped. Adam could feel a pleasant warmth surrounding his hands. As quickly as the feeling came, it was gone and the cool of the night air returned to his skin.
“I think that may have helped,” Delas said, removing the cloth from Adam’s hands and inspecting the wound. The leaking blood was gone and in its place instead of an angry red gash, was a smooth dark pink line of healed flesh.
Adam clenched and opened his fist several times. The pain from the wound was gone as well. “That is…”
“Healing magic. I know. C’mon, my hero, we need to travel a bit more and find a good place to hold up for the remainder of the night.”
They crossed the stream and continued several hours into the night, their path illuminated by a partial moon. A thick forest grew on their left and they decided to follow its edge, planning to use it as means of escape in case they ran into trouble.
“Ready to stop for the night?” Adam asked.
Delas smiled and sighed. “I was waiting for you to say that. I’m exhausted. You?”
“I think I could sleep for a week.” He took a quick look to his left, into the dark forest. “Come on, let’s find a spot in there, so we’re not exposed like we would be here in the open.”
Moments later they had their packs off and settled down for the night. They huddled together against one another in the relative warmth of the blankets. They discussed making a small fire, but decided even though it would be a comfort, both physical and psychological, it would be like a beacon in the darkness. After the attack in Anthros, Adam wanted some quiet time to regroup, and so championed for the lack of a campfire.
They sat there quietly, listening to the soothing sounds piercing the darkness. Adam thought about his farm and the nights he’d sat outside looking out over the land and up at the stars and the gentle peace of it all. He wondered if his life would ever return to those uncomplicated times, when Delas settled in against him. Her motion, as simple as it was, made him realize his past was gone forever. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer into himself and settled against his pack.
“Do you think we’ll be okay?” Delas asked, startling Adam, as he thought she’d fallen asleep.
“What do you mean? You and I?”
“Well, yes, you and I, but I mean all of us. After what Thomas told us, I think avoiding Kurilan might be the best plan. After all of the death I’ve seen, I’m scared. He would stop at nothing to get the artifacts, including killing us all. We could…” she sighed, “Never mind.”
“Run? Abandon them all?” Adam said without emotion. The flatness of his voice expressed how closed he was to the subject.
There was a long wave of tense silence overlaying the sounds of the nightlife of the field and forest. Adam wasn’t sure what to say and kept quiet until Delas finally spoke.
“I admire your loyalty.” Before he could say anything, she added, “I just hope it doesn’t get us into trouble.”
Us? Adam thought, but said “What makes you think we’ll get into trouble?”
This brought a refreshing laugh from Delas’ lips and the tense mood was broken. Adam pulled her closer and together, they fell asleep.
* * * *
Delas jerked awake, her adrenalin pumping. A strong hand wrapped around her arm, preventing her movement. Another hand was clamped over her mouth, keeping her quiet as she thrashed to pull free. Warm breath passed over her ear and she heard the soft sound of Adam’s voice.
“Quiet.”
She immediately stopped thrashing about and stilled. Her eyes were wide as she became fully awake and fear slipped into her. She slowly turned her head upward once Adan released his grip, and she saw an uneasy look on his face.
“Look,�
� he whispered, again in her ear, pointing out into the field.
A dark figure shifted in the shadows of the high grass on the far side of the field. Her eyes tracked its movement in the moonlight. The figure was wrapped entirely in a dark cloak flowing behind him as his mount picked up speed across the meadow. He rode on what appeared to be the minimalist of saddle, and kicked his heels into the beast to coax more speed from the creature. Delas squinted, trying to get a clearer view of the creature itself. To her it looked more ethereal than real. Rather than a solid animal of flesh and bones, the creature she swore that she saw consisted of a swirling mass of black smoke.
Delas felt Adam’s arms tense up around her as she looked out into the field. Across the way, she could see the lone rider slowed and was now traveling at walking speed. His mount turned to look in their direction and its glowing eyes fixed upon their position for a long moment and then passed on, surveying the rest of the tree line.
Eventually, the rider prodded the swirling mass once again and they took off, crossing the field and exiting eastward along a worn path.
It was a long time before Delas spoke. “What-what were those things?”
Adam shook his head. “The riders or their mounts? I think both of them answer to Kurilan and they are obviously looking for Kyle and the medallion.”
Delas wiggled, stopped and wiggled again.
“Adam, your grip.”
He spit out a soft grunt and released the hold he had around her. She was able to breathe again, but didn’t move away.
Neither of them slept the rest of the night. Sounds either would have taken for granted while outdoors in the night, now seemed louder and more sinister. Delas lay with Adam’s arms around her. She knew she should feel safe, but those mounted creatures chilled her. She shivered.
One thing she noticed was just how quiet the beast was that Kurilan’s henchman rode. Quiet enough to sneak up upon them and they would be none the wiser.
Morning found them both awake and exhausted, with their eyes scanning the field and the eastern path where their pursuers had proceeded.
Medallion of the Undead Page 23