Kat locked eyes with the archmage, crossing her arms.
“Go.” the woman sneered, her face pale. Her features papery as blood continued to trickle from her nostrils. Black blood.
Overhead, the ceiling moaned as stones began to cave around the archmage's orange tinted bubble. The woman buckling under the weight of the chateau as smoke seeped through the growing hole in the ceiling. An orange glow hovering around it. Fire licking stone.
It's now or never.
Kat was fast for the archmage—too fast—and the woman cursed as the girl caught hold of her wrist and shoved her towards the ground with a heavy toss of her hip. With the archmage down, Kat dragged her towards the window as the bubble holding up the ceiling began to dissipate. The magic fading away as Kat forced the woman through the tiny window, ignoring the archmage's harsh curses as the woman was forced to climb. As the ceiling above began to rain down monstrous chunks of stone and wood.
From the window, the archmage threw out a hand for Kat to clasp. Wiggling her fingers as Kat caught the woman's forearm, a bestial screech ripped through the blackened sky above. Swinging her body out of the collapsing study with the help of the archmage's wiry strength, Kat caught sight of a large force on the horizon. A horde of well armored bodies standing upon a yellowed hill towards the north. With them, sat a gargantuan machine of wood holding a monstrous weapon tipped in sharp steel raised atop the thick wooden skeleton of the machine's square body.
She heard a call—a cry.
And a thunderous twang as the steel tipped weapon was set free. The monstrous ammunition speared through the sky, its tip angled at them as the wall they clung to began to crumble. Began to tremble and collapse.
The archmage shoved Kat. Caught her shoulder and steadied her. “Trust me.” she whispered as Kat gasped—her blood bubbling beneath her skin as she felt her life being siphoned from her. Her breath caught in her throat as she choked. As her lifeblood ebbed away. Her power stolen. Her vision blurring.
As she lost her grip upon the wall and careened backwards.
Weightless.
Flying through the air on a glimpse of mist.
TWENTY-FOUR
Heavy footfalls paraded through bowed grass—a battalion of bodies marching. Dead grass breaking. Stale wind whispering overhead, rolling over the dry tip of her upturned nose.
A croak of laughter crumbled to silence near her head. The chortle short-lived and soft spoken before the voice wheezed in a racking breath of sour air and began giggling. Began laughing all over again.
The sky rumbled overhead, the sound soft and delicate, as thin drops of drizzle fell to her forehead. The water dripping into the stiff blades of dead grass biting at the tips of her numb fingers.
Kat opened her eyes.
A black sky wept, rain fell like tears. The water sliding over a multitude of armored men and women as a thick line of soldiers broke ranks to avoid the bodies sprawled out in the field of yellow. Rain cleansed bloated corpses, a trio of three women lay lifeless about a stone's throw away from Kat. Their bodies stained scarlet, their shiny limbs burnt black. As Kat turned her head, her stiff neck aching with a burning soreness, her ears caught the laughter again. Amidst the churning clamor of boots crashing through dead grass and sucking fields of damp soil, she heard the laughter again.
“Solace, egidul.”
Kat pressed her lips into a hard line, her gaze moving upwards. Near the crown of her head lay a naked body. The naked body of a man.
“You survived.” he chuckled, his body immobile as he heaved a dry laugh. “Anger will consume her.”
“Elisedd?” she all but cursed as she tried to move her arms. “You—you lied to me.” Kat croaked.
Laughter devolved into choking coughs as Elisedd rolled in the yellowed grass, his scarred torso stained with crimson as Kat caught the acrid scent of smoke. “As I have been lied to.” he responded, rolling to his back in the grass with a prolonged groan. “And a multitude of others before and beyond us. The Confrerie's mistress believed my unit to be a tool. Believed me to be a self-seeking fool of a highscale,” thunder peeled overhead as his voice became low and thick. Guttural, “but my mind is my own and they failed to realize this to their own detriment. This,” his arm trembled as he reached, as he brought a palm to the sky and pointed towards the crumbling towers of Labassette with soot stained fingertips, “is my doing. Mine alone.”
“Highscale?” Kat whispered, eyes to the clouds. Confrerie? Her mind was floating, her thoughts barren and useless as Elisedd chuckled once more. His laughter drawn out and airy like the dying breath of a flute. The sound whispering through his open mouth as he chuckled.
“But this is nonsense to you.” he coughed, dropping his hand to the yellowed grass as the thick lines of marching solders began to thin and fan out. The stone-faced men and women moving towards the thawed river of slush snaking around the decrepit chateau as the two lay there. Their faces pelted by rain and grime.
“The Confrerie. The Scyllah. Organizations—races beyond the yoke of humanity's harness—if it is not designated—,” another choked cough burst from his lungs, the sound followed by a belch of black smoke that left his lips as thick black mist, “—designated monstrous, then your kind turns a blind eye until we are branded as terrorists for standing up to injustice. Until we are—,” he rolled again, coughing. Spitting scarlet tinted phlegm from his ripped lips as he heaved with a shuddering breath. “Grouped into ghettos in your towns—violently cast out from others. Barred from the capital—from a life of honest work and living; your kind has hunted us since the dawn of time. Since humans attained the knowledge that dragons—highscales were not gods and, despite our immortality, we could be taken down. For sport, for pleasure. We could be captured and forced to plead for mercy at the sharp end of a spear...” Elisedd's breath slowed as his black hair shimmied down his shoulders as dark silk, hiding his nakedness. His bruises and smeared blood. Hiding two slits of weathered skin that throbbed with reddened intensity as if his back were burning. As if fire erupted from the incisions.
From the corner of her eye, Kat caught a flash of fluttering skirts. Crimson taffeta blazing like hungry embers as scarlet slippers pranced through the rain soiled field of yellow. Gold-laced embroidery twinkled upon the crimson skirts in the gloom, the sprawling patterns intricate as gold threads intertwined.
“Close your eyes.” Elisedd murmured, rolling onto his back once more.
Kat hesitated, her limbs heavy as she fluttered her fingers. The girl fighting to gain control of her body. “Why should I listen,” she breathed, “to you?”
Elisedd chuckled, “This is my last request, egidul.” he muttered as the crimson skirts ventured closer, the woman assailed by another skirt of scarlet taffeta, it's designs mimicking the gold-laced embroidery of the first. “From obedience comes knowledge.
“Close your eyes,” he repeated, rain showering the yellowed field in a drought of cold mist. The drops icy, like hail. “and She shall spin you a tale.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Kat did as instructed, curious. Her breath hitching in her throat as smooth fabric grazed her outstretched hand, her eyes tightly closed. Her face relaxed, though her pulse steadily quickened. Her heart propelling itself into her throat as a cry of thunderous lightening careened across the blackened sky above.
Concentrating on her eyelids, she listened to Elisedd's bubbling laughter as slippered feet shifted in the dead grass below. Kat felt herself bristle, felt the atmosphere thicken with tension as the air became thin. Slowly, she let her jaw relax, her mouth falling open as if she were sleeping. Or dead.
“Elisedd,” a husky voice whispered from above, “they say when death comes, we see visions of our past and of our loved ones. Tell me,” the woman's voice was piercing, grating upon the ears like the serrated edge of a sharp toothed comb, “do you see your daughter?”
Kat heard Elisedd's breath stop. Heard his laughter pause, only to ebb into a sharp hiss. The sharp hiss of
an animal cornered, of an animal sure of its death but willing to brandish its bloodied claws and make its last stand. “Where is she?” Elisedd rasped, his voice a harsh whisper, “What have you done to her? Scarlet witch—,” his words ended in explosive coughs, his entire body racking as he shivered in the grass. “What have you—,”
“I told you who holds her as chattel, Highscale. Must I repeat old plans and dusty conspiracies?” she sighed, her tone condescending. “Unfortunately, time eludes those yoked by responsibility, Elisedd. You were a dear friend to me. I trusted you and the abilities of your unit. I gave you the tools—what your men and women needed to swiftly take the chateau and meddle with the southerners—but look—,” Kat heard fabric rustle as if the woman were throwing up her hands, “—the bodies of the Sybil's auxiliary litters these death strewn fields. My men and women. My army. My people!” her voice lowered as a pair of heavy boots stomped through the fields. The determined marching echoing as the soldiers moved towards the river. “What you have done here is deplorable!”
“The Scyllah is not yours to command—I am nobody's puppet!” Elisedd heaved, the laughter coming back. Slowly, steadily, his laughter bubbled back. “You attempted. Tried to attach me to your strings, but the Fates smiled upon me weeks before.” coughing, his laughter died as the woman hovering above him hissed out a heavy sigh. “The Sonant of Liberation does not hold my daughter,” he growled. “you do.”
“Mhm!” the woman above murmured, her voice high-pitched and strained. “A child could have arrived at such a conclusion within a day, Highscale. The tomes lie, your kind is far from the mystic intelligence so many humans grant you. Your life may be prolonged, but your wisdom is not. You possess the mind of an infant—innocent yet willful. Willing to believe any tidbit of information gathered on your loved ones—no matter how far-fetched it may sound to any sane being.” she barked out a laugh, a thunderous guffaw that she quickly clipped. “A troll could have arrived to such a conclusion within a week—but you, you took an entire month. And even then, you could not backtrack. The ater sanguis has killed too many—you could not run away! And so you decide to turn on your master and burn my envoys with dragon-breath. But,” her voice tinkled with laughter as she spoke. As she began to pace through the grass, her slippers falling quite close to Kat's head. “did you expect the ballista, dear Elisedd? For all of your wisdom, did you think I wouldn't have something to fall back on? I will find another way, Highscale. My battle does not end here—,”
“You are a tool!” Elisedd spat, cutting her off. Fire rising in his voice as he fought to speak through the racking coughs thrashing his body. “The Confrerie owns you—don't you see? We were tools—playthings! Through you, they used me! And they've used the Scyllah thrice over in their plans—throwing their own kind to the wayside when plans fall through. Don't you see, Vidonia? Don't you see?”
Vidonia paused, rain calming to a slight drizzle, as her skirts grazed Kat's knuckles once more. The fabric untouched by the storm. Dry. “Anais,” she snapped. Another pair of slippers shuffled near Kat's thigh at the name. “Move the girl away,” Vidonia hissed as Kat felt fingers wrap around her ankles, “she has heard enough.”
And Kat was pulled, her eyes springing open as a heart-faced girl yanked her towards the opposite side of the field. Away from Elisedd and Vidonia as the scarlet draped woman approached Elisedd from the side of his upturned head. Clasping her hands tightly behind the heavy black capote upon her back, she bent over slightly from the hips.
“You have failed.” Kat heard Vidonia hiss as she was pulled through the grass. The woman raised a hand, a scarlet colored drop-sleeve fell towards the black fabric of her upper arm as Vidonia's lifted palm opened. Warped air gathered. Pulsating air that mimicked a liquid mirror as it thrummed within the palm of her open hand.
“This, the Confrerie will not tolerate.”
A watery thwack of bone smashing, muscle erupting into itself, and fleshy eyeballs exploding resounded through the air as Kat's ankles were dropped into the grass.
And Kat saw blood.
Scarlet everywhere.
TWENTY-SIX
Pressing her palms into the yellowed grass, Kat shoved herself up to standing. Soiled dirt caked her skin. As did rain and blood as she felt her stomach suddenly lurch and roll over. Heaving, she bent over abruptly and retched. Vomiting up the scant contents of her stomach with a belch and a moan.
She felt a soft palm rub her shoulder as she hiccuped, her throat raw and throbbing as she lifted up her gaze, only to catch a glimpse of Elisedd's smashed face. Her eyes fluttered over an amalgam of crimson studded bone sprouting where his skull should be. Blood pooled in the deep bowl of his shattered features as his assailant hovered over him. Her right hand balled into a tightly clenched fist stained scarlet, the drop-sleeve of the woman's gown peeling back as she held her fist there. Frozen. Her features hidden behind a copse of crimson colored hair brushing down the back of the thick black capote draped around her slender shoulders.
The woman held up her fist, opening her hand. The fingers splaying slowly, her hand opening like a rosebud. Like a fresh flower bloodied by war.
“Anais,” Vidonia intoned, face still hidden by a waterfall of rubicund tresses. “take her to the tower.”
~~~
Of the chateau's original four towers, the ancient fortress steadily falling to pieces well before the Scyllah's dragon decided to demolish a large part of it, only two towers remained. The cylindrical towers situated farther towards the back of the crumbling chateau, standing as silent sentinels amidst a rolling sea of crumbled stone and charred wood. The large force that took down the dragon, a nameless armament of soldiers possessing the haughty accents of the north, picked through the gray and brown debris. The colossal cavalry quickly setting up a bustling city of large round tents atop the debris, the flaxen fabric of their makeshift enclosures treated for rain and other watery weather.
Kat was maneuvered through this tent city, her jaw agape as Anais pressed a lithe palm into her back. The girl amazed at how fast these northerners worked, her concentration torn as she worried for her own safety. Her thoughts turning to the archmage as well—Archmage Ledora. Was it truly that simple? That easy? The archmage's disappearance resembled a miracle—a flash of cold light that blinded Kat as the archmage's magic guided her towards the ground. It was her magic that saved Kat. If the archmage hadn't magicked her to safety, that wall would have flattened her—she would have become crippled again.
But Archmage Ledora saved her—saved her because she needed to survive.
Your life is the key to confining Her.
Her.
The Night Lady—her mother?
What had the claven done to her?
When did I become so damned important?
As the woman at Kat's back stopped her, stilled her with a soft hand clasped around her left shoulder, Kat wished that she was back on the Path. Back where thing's made sense and people didn't tote her around. Strangers blaming her for this and that. People amplifying how important she was based upon her lineage. Based upon her thin connection to Baate Noir's Night Lady.
Kat heard voices, the tent city coming to life as rain drizzled down from the skies. She heard Anais murmuring behind her. Heard the sharp reply of Vidonia some ways away and shut her eyes. Willing everything to fade away. To dissipate to black nothingness.
She wished she had never learned that her mother was still alive—wished she had never learned what the woman had become. She wished...
Rain pelted her, chilling her to the bone and she shivered as Anais and Vidonia's voices became coupled with others. The high-pitched voices of the women mixing with the deep grumblings of stark replies and shrill answers. Kat's hair stuck to her face, her neck. Her clothes were ragged, torn by the fall and the claven. The brown fabric assailed by dirt and Elisedd's blood. Shutting her eyes tighter, twisting her face as she sneered, she willed the voices to die away as her thoughts became a howling hurricane roar
ing within her head. Deafening her as she listened. As she wished.
I will not beseech you, mother, she told herself in warning, I must be my own woman now.
I give you my power, her mother's retreating form had murmured.
Shaking the voice away, Kat wished the world would leave her alone. That it would let her go back. She wanted to be with her cousins again. She wanted to go home.
If she even had one to return to, Kat reminded herself. Biting her lip as she pushed the flash of anger in Eva's eyes away. As she ignored the acrid stench of Jocelyn's burning flesh and Maddy's cry as Eva attacked her. The younger woman pushing past her as she fought to get to the stake. As she fought to save a life already derelict. A life already given to the Fates.
The Night Lady was right. About humans. About us.
She needed to go home.
And I'll get the chance, Kat told herself as Anais pushed her forward once more. The woman at Kat's back marching her towards the southern tower. The same tower Elisedd had detained her in almost two weeks ago. When Montbereau's Chaperon finally arrives, she set her jaw, stomping through the mud and dead grass as Anais moved her forward. Kat slowly coming closer to her fate, I'll get the chance.
…
The women brought Kat to a familiar room, the space circular and wide. The tower room drafty and damp from the recent downpour of rain. Sitting her before the thin desk Elisedd had so recently sat across from, the scar-faced man interrogating her and poking fun at her belief in the Cataclysm as he questioned her from across the thin wooden planks of the ragtag desk about the Sonant of Liberation; Kat turned her head and swore she spied a ghost. Swore she saw Elisedd's marred face twisting into a disgusted sneer across from her before she blinked the vision away. Wiping her eyes with the back of her forearm, she placed her opposite hand atop her thigh and breathed.
Winterskin: A Dark Fantasy (Kindred Souls Book 1) Page 12