A Shade of Vampire 46: A Ride of Peril

by Bella Forrest

  “We could go get him,” a third one interjected.

  “How do you suggest we do that, Capheus?” Mal asked sarcastically. “Do we just walk in and ask one of those grotesque Destroyers to kindly escort us to Captain Sverik? Do you think they’ll offer us sweet water as a courtesy, too?”

  Capheus rolled his eyes and chewed another piece of dry meat, visibly displeased with its taste but hungry enough to eat it anyway.

  “That’s what I thought,” Mal added. “We sit here and wait for orders, like we were told. Until then, we figure out what to do next and how to handle our new commander. Goren’s a prickly bastard.”

  “Prickly? I would’ve gone for fat oversized snake with a brain the size of a pea!” Yaron replied. “I can’t believe we have to listen to him.”

  I heard Hansa hiss three times from behind Yaron, who sat across the fire from where Draven and I were standing. We didn’t move, but Draven hissed back. The incubi looked around, frowning.

  “Snakes? See anything?” asked Mal, checking the ground behind him.

  They all shook their heads, unable to see anything.

  “They might be lurking in the grass nearby,” said Yaron. “They won’t come any closer. Like most creatures out there, they don’t fare well with fire.”

  “My point is,” Mal continued, “it’s either obey or die with these creeps. It’s bad enough we have sworn fealty to them. Let’s keep our garrison alive and fight for Sverik another day. His father’s planning another assault with Goren anyway. They’re looking further north now. They might take us with them.”

  “So we can spill our blood while the Destroyers prance around on their winged horses throwing their poisonous spears?” Yaron was clearly displeased with the entire situation.

  “What would you rather do then, Yaron?” Capheus snapped. “Curl up and die? They won’t let you. They’ll lock you up and torture you and chip away at your very soul until you beg them to kill you. That’s worse than death, my friend. Snap out of it. We obey or we suffer the same fate as Sverik. At least we can still bear arms.”

  “I’m not sure death by Destroyer is any better,” Yaron replied. “I heard the poison is so vicious, it takes a long time for it to kill you. It kills your muscles, but you still feel everything as the toxin burns through your body. They say it’s beyond agonizing.”

  “Kristos and Bijarki must have suffered for hours before the poison finally killed them,” Mal added. “I heard from one of the Destroyers who went after them that they got them both. Poked them full of spears to send a message.”

  “I heard Bijarki’s still alive,” Capheus said. “They saw him moving through the jungles up north.”

  The other incubi looked at him, surprise raising their eyebrows in unison. Mal’s black stone stopped halfway down the blade.

  “Where’d you hear that?” Mal frowned.

  “One of Goren’s aides. He said they spotted Bijarki around that succubi camp twice. You know, the one they burned down the other day.”

  Mal shook his head, staring at the fire.

  “One by one, the resistance keeps falling,” he said slowly. “We keep saying we’ll live to fight another day, but it doesn’t look like that day is coming. If anything, it’s rapidly fading away.”

  “Well, it’s not like there’s much skill left in the wild anyway,” Yaron smirked. “Almost all of the incubi have sworn fealty, and it’s not like the succubi are capable of taking on even one Destroyer, not to mention a whole garrison complete with Sluaghs.”

  I heard Hansa hiss from behind him.

  He quickly looked over his shoulder. I suddenly had a feeling that he was about to say something to set her off, so I squeezed Draven’s hand.

  “Yeah, don’t rely on the females to save the day,” Capheus grinned.

  “I heard they wiped them all out. Didn’t stand a chance, that Red Tribe,” Yaron chuckled. “A bunch of succubi who were too proud and lazy to live with the males of our species, and look at them. Centuries spent pretending they know how to fight to end up with spears and arrows in them. Pathetic!”

  Draven seemed to read my mind. He jerked my hand, and we both moved swiftly toward the source of the second hiss, this one longer and more menacing. I wanted to catch Hansa before she did something that would reveal our presence there, but I wasn’t sure how to find her in time.

  The incubi were all chuckling around the fire, and I knew it was only a matter of seconds before their heads would start falling off.

  I took a gamble and used my True Sight to look around me. Much to my relief and surprise, I saw a shimmering silhouette prowling behind Yaron, which I instantly recognized as Hansa. She was moving in for the kill, quiet and liquid in her movement.

  I lunged forward and grabbed her arm, pulling her back. She tried to resist but gave in. We slowly moved away from the camp, leaving the incubi behind still looking around for snakes.

  As soon as we were far enough to speak again, I let go of Hansa’s arm. She groaned, and I heard her sheathe her sword.

  “Hansa, your short temper might get us killed,” Draven reprimanded her, his hand still clutching mine.

  “I am sorry, Druid. Anger got the best of me,” she mumbled. “They were talking trash about my tribe, my sisters. I saw red.”

  “Your irregular hissing gave you away,” I replied. “I can’t blame you, though. I can only imagine how his words must make you feel.”

  A moment passed before she spoke again.

  Crickets chirped in the background.

  “How did you find me?” she asked.

  “I used my True Sight,” I said. “It turns out swamp witches’ magic isn’t fully impervious to my sentry abilities. I can’t see you clearly, but I can make out the silhouette, as if I can spot the light reflections when you move.”

  “That’s an interesting development,” Draven mused. “Nevertheless, worth studying further when we get the chance. We’re using spells we know nothing about right now, but once all this blows over, I’ll want to go through each of them thoroughly.”

  “Planning on teaching swamp witch magic, Druid?” Hansa asked jokingly.

  “Not necessarily, but it’s an art that should not die. It will only be a matter of deciding who would be entitled to receive such powerful knowledge.”

  A throng of sharp hisses pierced the natural silence as dozens of Destroyers flew overhead. We stilled, and my heart froze in my chest. Shivers ran down my spine. Their winged horses neighed as they cut through the night sky, foaming at the mouth and flapping their wings against the warm summer air.

  I kept looking up, watching the monsters with giant snake tails ride their animals, hissing as they looked down, scanning the dense jungle with their bright yellow eyes. As soon as they moved in the direction from which we had come, I was able to breathe again.

  “Stay strong, Serena,” Draven whispered in my ear. “It will only get worse from here. There’ll be more of them as we get closer to Azazel’s castle.”

  “Well, that’s reassuring,” I replied and kept moving, this time pulling him after me.

  We kept walking with the moon guiding us.

  Soon enough, a swarm of green fireflies buzzed above us, flying chaotically. I stopped to look at them, fascinated by their appearance. They looked like little green sparks against the black night sky.

  “They’re so pretty,” I gasped, mesmerized by the visual effect.

  They resembled liquid drops of fire levitating above the dark forest.

  “Don’t talk,” Draven whispered again. “They’re not of nature’s making.”

  I didn’t move, my words stuck in my throat.

  Instead, I continued to watch as they moved through the air, swarming after the Destroyers we’d seen earlier. When we saw the last of them disappear beyond the trees behind us, I was finally able to breathe again. I let a sigh roll out of my chest and leaned against Draven.

  “What are they, then?” I asked.

  “One of Azazel’s most
powerful and most dangerous spells,” he explained. “They’re spies. Tiny little flickers of green fire, Azazel’s eyes and ears around these parts of Eritopia. He sees and hears everything through them in real time.”

  “The closer we get to his castle, the more of these we’ll find,” Hansa added.

  I looked ahead, and the realization crashed into me like a wave of cold water. A few dozen feet ahead, beneath the big white moon, constantly surveyed by swarms of Destroyers and green fireflies, was Azazel’s castle.

  The castle rose quietly over the jungle, its black marble towers stabbing the sky, challenging the stars above. Green fires burned on its walls and above its windows. The thick forest unraveled below, black and quiet and filled with nothing but danger and death.

  I tightened my grip on Draven’s hand and felt gloom settle in the pit of my stomach.

  Soon enough, we’d be sneaking into the monster’s lair.

  Jovi

  The jungle opened up as we made our way to the River Pyros. The road widened, and the woods scattered, leaving room for several square miles of smooth plains with tall red grass and the occasional orchard patch.

  Our horses were indeed strong, darting like bullets, their hooves barely touching the ground. Evening was settling in, giving the sky a dizzying array of reds, oranges, and pinks as the sun disappeared beyond the western woods.

  “The river is just a couple of miles ahead,” Anjani said, clutching her crossbow.

  The tension made the air around us solid. We knew we were being followed—we’d heard the hissing and the sound of footsteps and branches breaking in the jungle around us. My hand was sweaty as it held the crossbow against my right forearm.

  “The open space might make us or break us,” Bijarki added, looking over his shoulder.

  I noticed his eyes grow wide and shifted my gaze to see what he was looking at. There were creatures running through the tall grass to our right, incubi wearing dark red and green uniforms, resembling military camouflage patterns. I looked over to my left and noticed the same—more incubi sprinting toward us with knife blades in their teeth.

  “Get your weapons ready,” Bijarki shouted and pointed his crossbow at one of the incubi.

  One by one they emerged from the tall grass, keeping up with our horses. I heard a hiss and the swish of an arrow behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw Anjani reloading her crossbow. An incubus had fallen back, writhing in pain on the ground.

  There were eleven of them left and three of us.

  I shot an arrow and caught one right in the chest. He collapsed, foaming at the mouth, his arms and legs twitching.

  “We’re simply defending ourselves, brothers. Stop attacking us. We mean no harm!” Bijarki barked at the soldiers.

  One of them got close enough to try and slash Bijarki’s horse with his sword.

  “You’re worth a lot of money, you traitor!” the incubus hissed.

  Anjani’s arrow shot him in the back of his neck, the tip protruding out of his throat, glazed in silver blood. He fell flat on his face, lifeless.

  Nine left.

  “I think there’s a ransom on your head,” Anjani said to Bijarki as we all kicked our heels, persuading our horses to go a little faster.

  Unfortunately, the incubi were just as unnaturally fast. Two of them brought out their long-distance bows. Anjani and I quickly reloaded our crossbows and killed them just as they shot their arrows, missing both of us by a couple of inches. My instincts kicked in, and my inner-wolf growled, eager to tear them all apart.

  “Bijarki’s head on a plate is worth a fortune these days,” another incubus shouted, approaching Bijarki.

  I shot him and watched him fall and roll on the ground, a poisonous arrow sticking out of his neck. His suffering would end soon. I had aimed for the carotid artery. He would bleed out in less than a minute.

  Six left. I loaded my crossbow again. They were getting closer. I had to move faster.

  Anjani took another one down. Five.

  An incubus wielding a sword was getting dangerously close to my horse. He eyed the animal’s back legs.

  Suddenly, three long arrows shot from behind us, hitting three of our attackers simultaneously. They fell, their bodies hitting the ground with a thud.

  A loud hiss oozed from the tall grass as the remaining incubi froze, prompting us to stop our horses and look back. The animals neighed as we pulled the reigns and pointed our crossbows at the two incubi still standing.

  Sweat glistened on their pale faces, their eyes wide with horror. They didn’t move.

  I took advantage of their stillness and jumped off my horse, keeping my crossbow aimed at them. Anjani followed suit, coming to my side.

  “There are others here,” Bijarki said, his eyes scanning the road behind us.

  “Don’t kill us,” one of the surviving incubi croaked.

  “Then don’t move,” Anjani hissed.

  “What others?” I asked Bijarki.

  “Not sure,” was his reply.

  A few moments later, my question was answered. Three females emerged from the tall grass, aiming their longbows at all of us. They were beautiful creatures with slender bodies, toned muscles, and tanned skin. Their bright yellow eyes had slim black pupils. They wore pale green silk dresses with shoulder straps and slits on the sides all the way up to their hips. Massive gold belts adorned their waspy waists.

  Leather bands crossed their chests, holding their quivers in place on their backs. Their hair was long and pale blonde, nearly white, cascading over their shoulders in large curls. Golden earrings looped from their delicate ears. Green silk threads wove through their braids, reminding me a bit of Nordic women from the human world.

  They grinned at us, their pink forked tongues flitting and gathering chemicals from the air like snakes. They were Lamias. Their arrows pointed at Anjani and me, while ours pointed at the incubi.

  Bijarki’s horse trotted up to us. Bijarki aimed his crossbow at the three Lamias. Everybody was ready to kill somebody.

  “Who are you?” I asked, my nerves stretched to the very edge.

  One of the creatures gave me a sultry smile. Anjani cleared her throat, her emerald-gold eyes promising to send millions of poisonous arrows her way.

  “He asked you a question,” she said.

  “We’re the ones who were gracious enough to save your asses,” the smiling Lamia replied. “I’m Una, and these are my sisters, Mira and Lira.”

  “You’re Lamias,” I replied, my voice getting weaker as I noticed their distinctive features.

  A multitude of black and lemon-yellow scales covered their legs. They moved closer. The scales spread up their necks from the back, and a few were sprinkled on their forearms as well. The Lamia named Una looked at me and inclined her head.

  “You’re quite observant,” she quipped. “And not from around here, are you?”

  “Seriously, am I so easy to spot?” I asked Anjani and Bijarki, my voice laced with sarcasm.

  “Unfortunately, yes,” Bijarki replied. “We can all smell the wolf in you.”

  “We saw you three in the marketplace asking about the River Pyros, so we decided to follow you,” Mira said.

  “We come in peace, I can assure you,” Bijarki’s voice was low and calm. “We were attacked by these incubi.”

  “We know,” Lira smirked, looking down at the soldiers, her lips twisted with disgust. “We saw these rats run after you. We had a feeling you three must be worth something, the way they gave chase.”

  “We are worth nothing, believe me,” Bijarki replied.

  “It turns out there’s quite a hefty bounty on your head, Bijarki of the Strandh Clan,” Mira grinned. “Sixty thousand pieces of gold for whoever delivers your lifeless corpse to Azazel.”

  Bijarki, Anjani, and I glanced at each other, as the grim notion sank in. Azazel seemed to think of Bijarki as enough of an inconvenience to want him dead. That, despite its dangerous implications, sounded like quite the achievement
.

  Lira broke the silence. “Relax, Bijarki. We’re not interested in that filthy snake’s gold. He can choke on it, as far as the Lamias are concerned.”

  I let a heavy sigh roll out of my chest, Draven’s words echoing in my head. The Lamias had a serious bone to pick with Azazel. They didn’t have any interest in making his life or mission easier, not after he’d wiped out all their potential mates, thus dooming their species to extinction.

  “I am forever grateful then,” Bijarki replied with a polite nod, then glared at the incubi. “On your knees!”

  The soldiers obeyed, looking over at me and frowning. I was a stranger in their eyes, from another world, and it didn’t seem to take them long to notice that. Despite their calm demeanor, I could tell they were terrified. I could smell the sweaty fear on them.

  “You would kill one of your own for gold, then?” Bijarki asked them, his tone sharp and heavy like an axe.

  “Times are tough,” one of the incubi replied with a smirk.

  “You are soldiers of Eritopia. Have you no honor?”

  “What honor? We’ve been left behind by our commander, stripped of our ranks and titles, and doomed to walk this world without any fortune or fame,” the other incubus spat. “Your father considered us too weak to follow him into Azazel’s army!”

  Bijarki frowned and took a step forward, pointing the crossbow at the first incubus’s forehead.

  “You know my father?”

  “We served under Boovar of the Strandh Clan for five hundred years. Five hundred years of loyal and flawless service. Yet he saw fit to toss us aside, as if we’re worthless little worms!” the incubus said, gritting his teeth.

  “You’ve been discharged, then,” Bijarki concluded.

  Both incubi nodded.

  “And you need the gold.”

  They nodded again.

  “I have no gold to give you, but I can offer you a second chance, if you’re willing to fight like loyal soldiers for me,” Bijarki replied, putting his crossbow away.

  “We don’t work for traitors!” the first incubus hissed.

  Mira slapped him over the back of his head, making him slump forward.