Again, the spectators cried out their joy and excitement.
"The first event will be the street race. Gather up your rocks, rotten vegetables, and anything else you want to throw at the slaves. Teach them a lesson. The race begins in one hour."
* * *
"Trevor Ovel Treylan."
Zeriel set his bottle of wine down as the folder landed on the kitchen table in front of him where he had been drinking after eating dinner. "What?"
Oviel continued as he flipped through another folder and paced around the table. "Trevor Treylan, only son of Aberin Treylan and Gloria Treylan, maiden name Gloria Calio. Married. Wife Evala Treylan, maiden name Evala Krinto. Trevor Treylan attended the Clerical Academy at the same time as Jaylen, three years Jaylen's senior. Proficient with a war hammer and heavy plate armor. Trained in Ilyan to be a blacksmith by his father and grandfather. Grades in the Clerical Academy were in the top twenty percent of his class. Jaylen's scores were in the top one percent. While the gap there is worth noting, the difference in intelligence is more than likely negligible. Trevor Treylan's bloodline has had only one paladin in the past and any magical residue has long since been depleted. Odds of performing a soul awakening to change him into a spell weaver are zero. I have already written him off as being unable to utilize magic. No mage."
Zeriel took a long drink from his bottle of white wine then wiped his mouth on the back of his black wool sleeve. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Evala Treylan, his wife, has been declared deceased. She was being interrogated by the clergy and she couldn't take the torture."
"Why were they interrogating her?" Zeriel asked.
"After Trevor's disappearance, they believed that she had to have something to do with it because she neglected to report that he was missing for two days. The clergy in Ilyan is terrified after what happened with Jaylen and the rifts. They are hunting down anyone who they believe is a threat to the stability of Vilyron. Innocents are being trapped in the middle of a growing conflict between Heaven and Hell, angels and demons, Vilyron and Wolfekin."
"Vilyron and Wolfekin are at war again?"
Oviel closed the folder and stole a drink from Zeriel's wine bottle. "Not officially, but I foresee war banners on the horizon."
"And where does this Trevor Treylan fit in? Why bring him to my attention?"
"I managed to get some more information out of Gavin and Sulstair. Trevor Treylan was on the same slave ship as Jaylen. There is a chance they could have found each other and are working together."
"So you believe that Jaylen may be alive?" Zeriel asked.
"Maybe. I have to view things from every angle. This is one possibility. When I performed the soul awakening on Jaylen's soul, I was hoping that he would become a powerful spell weaver and be able to get himself out of situations like this. The interesting thing was, as a spell weaver myself, I was able to give him some of my power as well. However, none of that has been used. Jaylen hasn't even tapped into his own reserves of magical energy. Why? I have no idea. Maybe he doesn't know how. It just seems suspicious and highly unlikely to me that a spell weaver like Jaylen would die without putting up a fight and using his magic. Either he truly is dead from some sort of assassination that caught him off guard so that he couldn't fight, or he has lost the ability to use his magic."
"Either one of those is disastrous."
"Only time will tell. Axaniel is scouring the area around the barrier, gathering intelligence and any facts about the country inside the barrier. I am doing all I can to find a way to get past Carvael's barrier, but so far, I haven't had any luck. I brought Trevor's information to you in case you wanted to know what I've been working on. He is my newest lead."
Zeriel opened the folder and scanned over the details. "Thank you, Oviel. I appreciate you not giving up on Jaylen. Bring me any information you come across. Thank you."
* * *
Jaylen raced through the cobblestone streets as fast as he could, darting through the side alleys and leaping over wooden crates. His tunic was plastered to him with sweat and unknown liquids that had been dumped on him from the spectators who hurled not only rocks, sticks, and various objects at him, but insults as well. The other boys were either a dozen steps ahead of him or the young ones far behind.
One of the very young boys cried out in the distance, eliciting an uproar of cheering from the crowds. As much as Jaylen wanted to turn around and go help the poor boy, he couldn't. Jaylen cried out as a large stone glanced off of his arm and sent him careening over a merchant's stall of boxes, scattering baskets and sparkling trinkets out in front of him. He groaned and held his arm as the blood soaked through his shirt.
Trevor called back to him. "Get up! Jaylen, get up and run!"
Jaylen struggled to his feet as another rock hit him in the back. He couldn't. Was this the end? He fell to his hand and knees, barely able to remain in that position as the audience laughed at him and threw rotten tomatoes and oranges at him. He collapsed there in the mess and covered his head as the assault continued.
Trevor doubled back and slid to a stop in front of Jaylen. "I won't let you die here." He put his arm under Jaylen's chest and hoisted him to his feet.
Grateful for the help but still shaken up, Jaylen picked up the pace and ran alongside his friend. His legs burned, his breathing was rapid, and every muscle in his body begged him to stop. However, he knew he had to keep running. Even if he wanted to stop and die there, he couldn't let Trevor's help be done in vain. No matter what he had to do, Jaylen would never let anyone sacrifice their life for him. After all, Jaylen was the paladin who was supposed to be sacrificed for everyone else, not the other way around.
"Come on. I know you're scrawny, but you can run faster than this."
The remainder of the race went by through the haze of stinging tears. Once Jaylen was pushed down on the ground and a bucket of cold water was dumped over him, he rolled over on his back and stared up at the sky. He coughed and tried desperately to draw a full breath. He smelled blood. Then he noticed something clamped tightly around his hand. Looking over to his right, he smiled as he saw Trevor holding his hand and laughing.
"We came in third and fourth, Jaylen. We're safe. We live to move on to the next round."
Chapter 5
Gavin stumbled back through the portal into his room in the vampire coven. He pushed back his sweat-slicked hair as the shadowy portal vanished, leaving the room oddly quiet and empty. The broken glass and scattered papers were still covering the floor from the fight he had with Stephan hours before. He stepped around the overturned table then opened the door that Zeriel had broken. He didn't feel like cleaning up the room. There were too many other things that Gavin had to deal with before he could work on putting his personal life back together.
Most of his problems could be temporarily solved with a bit of help from his good friend alcohol. He sneaked past Oviel and the vampires who would more than likely want to talk to him. Oviel because he's Oviel. The vampires because they still adamantly believed that Gavin was somehow their long-lost ancient ancestor god or something. He tried to steer clear of them at any cost, lest they become aware that he was indeed not one of them.
As Gavin entered the kitchen where something bubbled in a pot over the fire and smelled like it was burning, Zeriel looked up from his wine.
"Hey, Gavin."
"Hello." Gavin tried to not make eye contact with the angel he knew would have a string of endless questions. He climbed up on the counter and opened one of the cabinets. As he searched in the cabinet for any sort of alcohol to get Stephan out of his mind, he growled slightly when Zeriel came up behind him.
"What did that little girl in Wolfekin want? Why did she summon you?"
Gavin found a dusty bottle of whiskey in the back then slammed the cabinet shut before jumping off. "Can you back off?"
"Whoa. Hey, what's wrong?"
"Really?" Gavin glared at Zeriel as he pried open the bottle with his claws and took a
drink. "I don't feel like talking. Don't you realize what I've just gone through? Stephan and I are no longer together. Give me a bit."
"Oviel and I need to know what is going on with every person we are involved with. We need information, and anything that happens could lead us to Jaylen."
Gavin reluctantly sat on top of the kitchen table and stared at the black-winged angel. "Ask your questions then let me go. When I came in here, I wasn't looking to be interrogated."
"You and Stephan."
He waved his hand. "Done. Over. The end. I'll be fine after I find another man or a nice woman somewhere. I tried in Wolfekin, but werewolves don't take kindly to advances from incubi it seems."
"Would you rather have a human or a demon mate?" Zeriel asked, seeming uncharacteristically interested in Gavin's love life.
"Mating and lovers are two different things. I mate with every sex, every gender, everyone. They can be demons, elves, or humans. I don't care. That's my job as an incubus. What I prefer are other incubi or succubi. Male or female doesn't matter. If they are nice and don't pressure me to take off my mask, then everything is good." Gavin took another drink. "Next question."
"The girl who summoned you in Wolfekin."
"Apparently you bought her infant brother and she wants him back."
Zeriel looked shocked. "Sammy?"
"Yeah. That's the one."
"Carvael has him."
Gavin shook the bottle and watched the brown whiskey swirling in the yellow mage-glow. "I know."
"What did the girl want you to do?"
"Demonic contracts are very sensitive. I can't tell you exactly, Zeriel. But I can give you some basics. When a demon and a human enter into a contract together, the demon promises to accomplish a certain goal in exchange for soul segments, gold coins, or other currencies. Until the contract is fulfilled, the demon is essentially bonded to the human in much the same way that angels bond with paladins. Only, demons don't take care of their humans. We work in the background."
"What happens if you don't fulfill your contract?" Zeriel asked, sitting at the table beside him.
"Then we face punishment from the archdemons in Hell. It's never pleasant. They're sadists, so they like hurting people. But that ensures that demons never take a contract that they can't fulfill."
"Punishment?"
"Death."
Zeriel's smile vanished. "Oh. It's that serious."
"Yes. I may have gotten myself in a bit too deep on this one, though."
"We need to know if you are in danger."
"Oh, I'm in a lot of danger. Damn it. I'll tell you. I took a contract with that girl to rescue Sammy and kill Archangel Carvael."
Zeriel gasped. "You took a contract to kill my father?"
"Yep."
"How do you expect to kill the most powerful angel in existence?"
"I'm working on that." Gavin finished the whiskey. "I was so caught up with what happened between me and Stephan that I wasn't thinking clearly. I wanted to help that girl, so I agreed in the heat of the moment. Now that I'm back here and faced with the possible consequences . . . I think I've made the worst mistake of my life."
"I'll help you."
"Why?" Gavin asked, tossing the bottle against the wall where it broke into hundreds of slivers.
"Because I have reasons for wanting Carvael dead as well. We will find a way to help you. I won't let you die. You're my friend."
Gavin smiled at Zeriel. "Thank you. But you shouldn't risk the consequences that will be on your shoulders for those actions. You are still an angel, Fallen or not, so you will be subjected to the laws of Heaven. Don't die for me."
"We will think of something."
* * *
"Up next in the wrestling section, we have Trevor Treylan versus Jaylen Corrifus."
Jaylen's mouth fell open as he looked up at the much larger and muscular Trevor who stood next to him. There was no way he could defeat Trevor. They both stared at each other for a few seconds while the water and sweat dripped off of their hair and soaked into their tunics. The crowds cheered as they were pushed by the guards into the ring drawn in the dirt and placed on opposite sides.
Carvael stood between them and addressed the crowds. "The rules are as follows: no kicking, punching, or biting. No magic. The first one to be pinned on the ground for five seconds loses. If one of them steps out of the circle, they lose automatically." He stepped backwards and held out his hands. "On the count of three, begin. One . . . two . . . three."
Trevor's hands tightened into large fists as his muscles tenses in his arms. "I'm sorry, Jaylen. I can't let you win. I have to survive and find a way to get home to my wife."
"I know. I would never want you to give up your life for me." Jaylen held out his hand to his friend. "May the better fighter win."
Trevor bowed to him then shook his hand. "Agreed. Keep your mouth closed so you won't bite your tongue. This is going to hurt."
Jaylen screamed as Trevor lifted him up above his head as if he didn't weight anything. All of a sudden, he was slammed onto the dusty ground on his back. Coughing as the air was knocked out of his lungs, he tried to crawl away, but it was all in vain. Trevor was instantly on top of him, holding him down. There was absolutely nothing Jaylen could do to save himself. He was squirming, but could only move his feet and his hand as Trevor's weight squeezed him and threatened to break every bone in his body. "Trevor!" He managed to squeak out, begging for him to get off.
Finally, it was over. Trevor stood up and extended a hand to Jaylen. "Come on. Are you all right?"
Jaylen took his hand and stood up, still coughing and spitting out dirt. "You win. I guess that's it for me."
"Not quite yet. There is one more fight left and one of the competitors is four years old."
"Four?"
"Yeah." Trevor led him over to stand with the other boys as the next fight began. "Sola, help us." He immediately spun Jaylen around and held his face against his chest. "You don't need to see this."
"What? What is it?"
"Shh."
The audience was silent, except for the occasional gasp or concerned whisper. Jaylen obeyed Trevor and stayed there with his face pressed into his chest, not that he could have fought if he wanted to. "Trevor, what is it? What happened?"
"This is a terrible fate for small children. Well, you didn't do the worst, Jaylen. You'll move on to the next round."
"He died, didn't he?"
Trevor sighed and turned Jaylen back around as the guards carried away the tiny boy's lifeless body. "His opponent broke his neck."
Jaylen grabbed onto Trevor as his stomach turned. How could they do that to a child? He remained there, grateful for his friend's support as the fights finished and the sun rose high into the sky. He managed to calm down enough to not vomit, but the memory of that tiny boy's limp body was almost too much for him to deal with.
Carvael seemed far too joyful as he held up his hands and addressed everyone. "We will now begin the sword fighting. First up: Jaylen Corrifus and Liam Ulverin."
He was led into the circle and given a wooden sword. Now this was more like it. Back in his element, Jaylen spun the wooden sword in his hand as he tested the balance of it. Not bad. It was a bit heavier than his longsword, but nothing he couldn't work with. He held up his sword and pointed it at his opponent, a boy about three years younger than him who appeared to have never wielded a weapon of any kind before. Jaylen studied the boy's slender arms and smooth hands. No calluses from training. The boy held the hilt too close to the blade with both hands. A thin grin spread across Jaylen's lips.
The brown-haired boy with extremely bright green eyes looked to be on the verge of tears as he tried stabbing the air with the wooden sword. "Ugh! It's so heavy."
"Use one hand."
"What? I can't."
"Use one hand and make sure you're holding it so it's balanced, or you won't get a good swing. Don't thrust with it. It's a slashing weapon."
"How do you
know so much?" Liam asked.
"I'm a paladin. I've been trained with a longsword."
The boy growled as he kicked dirt at Jaylen. "I'll take you down, paladin. I'm not just gonna give up!"
"Good. I wouldn't want to fight an opponent who entered the fight already defeated. Most of a fight is mental. Keep your eyes on my blade. Don't be afraid to block."
"Why are you helpin' me?" Liam asked.
"Because we all deserve a fair chance."
Carvael interrupted their conversation as his deep voice filled the air. "Swordplay. We have given the slaves wooden swords so there will not be any more premature deaths. Now for the rules. The first competitor to land three fatal blows to the other will win. As with the previous event, stepping out of the circle will be an instant loss. Begin."
Jaylen's adrenaline filled his veins as he slipped into the heightened focus that he learned during his training. He analyzed every motion, every breath of his opponent. He jumped back as the boy sliced out first, missing Jaylen's left leg by inches. As the boy took a long time to recover, Jaylen seized his chance to slash at the boy's back and hit him in the middle of his back. If it had been a real sword, he could have severed the boy's spine.
"Jaylen: one." Carvael called out.
Without warning the boy collapsed on the ground and remained motionless. Jaylen dropped his sword and went over to him so he could check and make sure he was okay. Just as he reached out to help him up, the boy rolled over and sent the wooden tip of the blade crashing into Jaylen's groin. He fell backwards, clutching his injury and writhing in pain.
"Liam: one."
"I tricked you!" The boy laughed darkly as he lunged at Jaylen again, this time digging his sword into the fresh soil.
Still grunting from the pain, Jaylen stood up and stumbled over to his sword. "That was a dirty trick. I was trying to help you."
Liam's eyes narrowed as he pulled his sword out of the ground. "I'm not gonna die to some handless mage goody-goody paladin. You're one of those hypocrites!"
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