The Undying Champions (The Eternal War Book 1)

by Brennan C. Adams

  “Oh, they most definitely did. See? Here they come.”

  Two men and one woman slunk out of the undergrowth and into the moonlight. They surrounded Ren and Kheled as best they could with their limited number. The healer was pleased to see black lines crisscrossing their skin. Finally, he wouldn’t have to hold back.

  “You’re sure it was four?” Ren whispered.

  “The fourth is watching between the trees the woman blocks.”

  “Esela!” the female called, and the fourth Kiraak joined his comrades.

  “It seems we eat tonight, boys,” he hissed eagerly, anticipation making him twitch.

  “How many do you want?” Ren asked her brother.

  “I want them all, but then you wouldn’t have anything fun to play with,” Kheled replied. “Let’s split fifty-fifty, yes?”

  “Look, the Esela think they can take us!” the female laughed heartily, the gravel in her voice dragging it down to inhuman levels.

  She faced the man beside her.

  “We should finish this quickly an-”

  Light flared momentarily, and the woman’s head sailed from her shoulders.

  The other Kiraak had good reaction times, Kheled had to admit. As soon as he’d pulled from Ele, they’d gone offensive, immediately rushing the one they viewed as the weakest.

  What a mistake. Ren met all three with a laugh, dancing around and between the men. She landed glancing blows on two, allowing the last to sprint into the woods.

  Kheled delayed chasing the fleeing man. The Kiraak would be easy to track and catch, and his sister was putting on quite the show.

  She flung a throwing knife into one of the men’s eyes as he readied to charge her and removed the other’s hand when it attempted to slash through her abdomen. The Kiraak furthest away roared, plucked the knife from his eye, and threw it back to its owner as he charged, but Ren deftly snatched the knife from the air, bent backward under the man’s sword, and slashed through his tendons with it. He collapsed, screaming, to his knees, while she faced the man who’d recently suffered the loss of a hand.

  He clutched at the stump, hissing at her, and spit at her feet. Ren glanced with distaste at the spittle and absently tossed the throwing knife into the offending man’s gaping maw. He choked, clawing at his mouth frantically.

  “Stop playing with them, Ren,” Kheled laughed.

  “Fiiine…” she groaned.

  She lifted the sword she had yet to use and swung it cleanly through the choking man’s neck. The hamstrung man took two swings.

  “Where’s your second plaything?” Ren asked while she retrieved her knife and cleaned her blades.

  “Running back to his masters. Which is what I wanted!” he added at her sharp glance. “My allies have no idea what to expect in Auden. I’m sure to acquire a more complete picture from the enemy itself rather than from whoever your friends are. I’m going to track the Kiraak back to his handlers, and I’m going to get answers.”

  “Are you sure you should follow him with your injuries?” Ren asked. “I know you say you’re fine, but I also know what I saw. That arrow looked like it pierced your heart.”

  “And if it did, I’d be dead now, wouldn’t I?” Kheled knelt beside the dead woman, inspecting her weapons. “Besides, little sister, remember how often I was hurt growing up? How many times did I need a healer?”

  He took the Kiraak’s sword, testing it against his thumb, and winced when it easily broke skin. Satisfied, he hooked it to his belt and moved on to Ren’s kills.

  “Never,” his sister answered, consternation written all over her face.

  “I’ll be fine,” Kheled assured her as he retrieved two daggers from the dead man missing a hand. “Can I borrow some of your throwing knives?”

  She wordlessly handed him some, and he accepted gratefully. Removing his cloak, he unstrapped Silverblade’s scabbard from where it rested between his shoulder blades and extended it to her.

  “Give this to Raimie when he wakes up,” he requested.

  “You expect me to stick around that long? What makes you think I’m not coming with you?” Ren asked incredulously.

  “You’ll see Raimie safely back to his people because I’m asking you to,” Kheled said.

  He looked away, continuing to hold the scabbard out to Ren.

  “I know I don’t deserve anything from you. I failed you, failed our family, and ran away. I left you to die.”

  He met and held his sister’s gaze with great difficulty.

  “I’m asking a favor of you because there’s no one else I can ask.”

  Ren snatched the scabbard from his hand.

  “What am I supposed to tell him when he wakes up?” she asked resignedly.

  “The truth.”

  Kheled stripped off his salt-crusted tunic, and Ren turned her back. He scavenged armor pieces from the dead men and hastily dressed.

  “I’m don’t like this, brother,” Ren muttered. “I just got you back. I was looking forward to introducing you to my new family.”

  “I look forward to meeting them,” he absently replied as he pulled on his cloak.

  “I’m not sure I can keep a soft human safe for however long it takes to find his people,” she said.

  “You’ll do fine,” Kheled assured her, kissing the top of her head as he passed. “I’ll try to be back in a couple of days. I’d appreciate it if you leave markers so I know which way to go once I’ve returned.”

  “Of course,” Ren said, hugging herself.

  “Hey,” Kheled said, pulling her hands into his, “I’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. We survived sixteen years without watching one another’s backs. We can make it another couple days.”

  He lifted her chin.

  “And then you can tell me all about your new family and what you’ve been up to since last we saw one another. Maybe you can teach me some of the combat forms you’ve learned while I’ve been away.”

  Ren smacked his hand away.

  “Like you don’t know all of them already,” she laughed. “See you in a few days.”

  Kheled drew from Ele and leaped in the direction the surviving Kiraak had fled. He felt a little guilty leaving Raimie with Ren. He knew she could take care of his friends and that it wouldn’t be too much of a hardship. That wasn’t the problem.

  He’d lied about why he left the Kiraak alive. As a happy side effect of the escape, he could gather information for the upcoming war effort, but that wasn’t his primary reason.

  Kheled needed to get away from Raimie. His friend had made worrisome assertions regarding Alouin, and he circled close to the truth. Now that his friend smelled a mystery bleeding like a wounded man in the water, he’d circle and poke at it like a shark until he solved it. Kheled wasn’t ready for that to happen.

  So he ran away, hoping time and distance would cool his friend’s curiosity. It was foolish, he knew that, but it was the best he could do for now.

  He focused his mind on tracking his prey, grateful for the distraction.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  I waited, numb, in my cell for execution. It was taking a while for them to get to me, but I knew it couldn’t be much longer. The tiny part of me that still cared tracked the days by the presence or absence of light through the tiny slit in the cell wall that faced the outside world. Weeks had passed since Reive… since I had murdered Rafe, and I was content to stay here, wrapped in a tight ball, until the council decided what to do with me.

  The clink of keys woke me from the doze my exhausted brain had forced on me. Hands pulled me to my feet and dragged me along.

  Cells full of pitifully wailing men, women, and children dressed in rags slid by, and the sight dredged me from the well of numbness and self-flagellation I’d toppled into. The quiet kernel of burning anger I’d held onto for years blazed to life. There was one man responsible for the pathetic state of disparity in the city that had, in some ways, led to Rafe’s death, and it wasn’t me. All I’d ever done was ease and heal p
ain and suffering, and Reive had turned my city against the idea of progress I’d tried so hard to promote.

  We entered a small chamber populated with a single chair, and I was forced to sit in it. Soon enough, the door opened once more, and Reive entered.

  He looked awful. His eyes were bloodshot, and stubble covered his normally clean-shaven face.

  “You’re going to do it yourself?” I asked with surprise.

  “What are you talking about?” Reive wearily replied.

  The Councilor’s reaction gave me pause.

  “You’re here to execute me, aren’t you?”

  Reive barked out a laugh.

  “No, Erianger, I’m here to offer you a job,” he said quietly, “one you won’t refuse.”

  “I would never work for you!” I protested.

  Reive grimaced, irritation plain to see.

  “You will if you want to see Lirilith again.”

  My protestations cut short. This was what Reive did. Threats and blackmail, they were exactly how he operated. It wasn’t enough that he’d used my wife to force me into accepting Rafe’s death. Now he’d use her to control my life.

  “What’s the job?” I asked through gritted teeth.

  “Test subject.”

  Reive gestured, and two scribes came in to stand at attention along the wall. A city guard dragged in a sweating man who he tossed at my feet. Blood soaked the clothes covering his lower abdomen.

  Years of training took over, and I knelt beside the man, lifting his tunic. A hole below the ribs on his left side revealed the muscles, organs, and tissue that hid beneath.

  “He’s been stabbed!” I shouted. “He needs a surgeon!”

  “All he has is you,” Reive said, patiently waiting.

  “But I don’t have my tools! How am I supposed-?”

  I cut off as I realized what he wanted.

  “You killed Rafe because I used whatever this new ability is on him. Why would I ever use it again?”

  Reive shrugged.

  “He’ll die otherwise.”

  Helplessness froze me solid. I badly wanted to treat the man, but the only tool at my disposal could get him killed. Did I take the chance?

  The wounded man weakly clung to my hand.

  “Please,” he begged.

  Swallowing hard, I placed my hands on his side. Even though I willed for the white light to appear, nothing changed. Puzzled, I tried moving my hands, but that didn’t help.

  “Perhaps the patient is incompatible,” Reive suggested. “We’ll get rid of this one and try someone else.”

  “No!” I yelled. “Give me more time! I’ve only done this twice. I’m not sure how-”

  White light interrupted me again. I smiled to see it spread over the man’s skin. The wound began to close to my great relief.

  Fire lanced into my abdomen, and I screamed. Acid scoured the cavernous hole in my side, leaking into my body cavity to burn through my stomach and guts.

  The pain let up quickly, leaving me gasping on top of the man I’d attempted to heal. Someone pulled me off of him, and I managed to stay upright.

  The furiously scribbling scribes came closer, making noises of wonder when they viewed the man’s unbroken skin. I let myself have a small moment of pride and terror at the sight of his completely healed wound.

  “Astonishing!” Reive whispered. “Do you have what you need?”

  The scribes murmured happy acknowledgments and retreated to their wall. Reive gestured a guard forward.

  “Get him out of the dungeon and away from anywhere that could be tied back to the council,” Reive instructed him. “Then get rid of him.”

  “What? No!” I exclaimed, the shock enough to bring me to my feet. “Why bother having me fix him if you were going to kill him afterward?”

  Guards forced me to sit in the chair, and Reive circled behind me, leaning over.

  “For science,” he whispered in my ear.

  He laughed when I stiffened.

  “I thought I’d try your approach to life, Erianger. I’ve always wanted to try to harness Alouin’s power for myself, and you’re a conveniently forgettable way to accomplish that dream. The fact that it will also cause you suffering is an unforeseen added benefit.”

  Even retreating back into numbness as I was, I took note of the guards and scribes leaving me alone with the Councilman. I tensed, waiting for the slightest opening to attack.

  “You see,” Reive continued, “I blame you for destroying Arivor. Your foolish belief in science tainted him with something dark that ran rampant when his son died. Combined with the shame of his wife’s suicide, his reputation is in shambles. I’ve had to assign him a position in one of the human kingdoms in order to get him diplomatically out of the city. The change in position will take him decades to overcome. He may never be able to take my council seat from me.”

  “Clariss is dead?” I asked dazedly.

  “Of course! What did you expect the weak woman to do after her son died?” Reive asked scornfully. “And all of it is your fault. Rafe’s death, Clariss’ suicide, Arivor’s disgrace. It’s entirely your fault.”

  Ice slid into the base of my skull, and I tasted steel in my mouth before it withdrew. Choking, I fell from the chair. My body disobeyed my every command as I suffocated, betrayed by my lungs’ refusal to fill. The world faded black, and I watched Reive step over me, wet dagger in hand, before even that pinprick vanished.

  There was an explosion of white light. I caught a brief glimpse of Alouin’s face, and then something forcibly propelled me back into my body.

  I bolted upright, coughing and clutching at my throat. I gasped. Air had never tasted so good.

  “I suppose the stories of Alouin’s deathlessness are true,” Reive said. “How disappointing.”

  Shrieking, I flung myself at him, but heavy hands caught me and held me back.

  “Take him to his wife but one of you stay on him at all times,” Reive told the guards before turning a sadistic grin on me. “Tomorrow we’ll try poisons.”

  Raimie’s fingers found traction on something other than discomfiting numbness, and he looked up with surprise.

  “Nylion, we made it!” he yelled excitedly.

  “That is wonderful!” Nylion replied exhaustedly. “I was afraid the well might conquer us.”

  “You amaze me, my friend! I certainly couldn’t have dragged the both of us up here,” Raimie said.

  “How about you help me with the last bit?”

  Raimie clambered over the edge. He lay there, panting despite the lack of a need to breathe, while the numbness faded from his fingers. Soon enough, he rolled over and lowered a hand for his friend, straining to lift it once it had been clasped.

  Nylion’s feet crossed the pit’s lip, and the well snapped closed behind him.

  “Fuck you!” Raimie screamed at it as he collapsed. “You stay out of my dreams! You and I killed Mama long ago, but we’re partners no more. I’m not dwelling on you any longer!”

  “We’ll see how long that lasts,” Nylion muttered under his breath.

  They relaxed on the newly smooth floor, recovering from the long climb. If it had been possible to sweat in this strange dream, Raimie would be covered with the stuff.

  Nylion rose first, kneeling over Raimie’s head.

  “Shall we see what comes next?” he asked.

  Memories flooded Raimie’s mind, and he clenched his teeth together, flinching at the onslaught. When it was over, he scrambled away from Nylion on all fours, tears threatening to leak from his eyes.

  “How could I-?” Raimie asked, horrified. “You protected me…”

  “I always protect you,” Nylion replied, cocking his hood sideways.

  That damn hood.

  Filled with purpose, he strode over and dropped knee to knee with Nylion. Raimie raised trembling hands, daring the other man to interfere, and threw the hood back. His own battered and bruised, beaten and broken face stared back at him with eyes terrified of th
e possibility of rejection.

  “Nyl, my best friend,” Raimie said, delicately cupping that so familiar face in his hands. “My other half. I am so sorry that I forgot you.”

  Nylion gently pushed his hands away.

  “You are not to blame. She cast a binding spell on us, intended to lock us away forever. I am simply grateful that you had the strength of will to break it.”

  “She?” Raimie asked venomously. “Who did this to us?”

  Nylion shook his head.

  “We agreed certain secrets were necessary, remember?” he said. “That is one of them. Besides, I only recall bits and pieces myself.”

  Raimie fumed, but he did remember that agreement perfectly. The day Nylion first made his presence known was crystallized in his memory. He’d suffered an especially bad fall that day, and Nyl had offered to take over until their injuries healed.

  He slapped his knees and rose with difficulty, looking around the carefully neutral landscape.

  “What now?” he asked.

  “Now you once again return to the real world, and we discover whether escaping the pit has the effect I theorize it will,” Nylion told Raimie.

  “And what’s that?”

  Nylion shed his heavy cloak, revealing the shiny set of armor beneath.

  “Hopefully, you will remember me this time,” he answered. “Hopefully, we shall have the ability to coordinate as well, but we cannot know until you awake.”

  Raimie turned grim.

  “Why would someone do this to us, Nyl? It seems an exceptionally cruel punishment to tear someone’s soul apart.”

  He itched to make the culprits pay, and Nylion seemed to agree as he flicked his long unused knife in and out of the sheath on his wrist.

  “I used to know every culprit,” he said, “but the knowledge is locked inside that.”

  He pointed, and Raimie squinted down the line his finger made to the horizon. He could barely make out the large chest with a padlock guarded by an enormous creature from nightmare. With unfurled wings, a gargoyle-like head, and fangs the length of his forearm, it highly resembled something from the horror stories he’d loved as a kid.

  “A vampire?” Raimie asked skeptically. “Those aren’t real.”