Along the Razor's Edge (The War Eternal Book 1)

by Rob J. Hayes

  "Is that..." Hardt started.

  "Magic," Tamura finished. His other hand shot out and grabbed mine, pulling it up and turning it over. He dropped the Source into my waiting hand and let go.

  "How did you find it?" I asked. Staring down at the Source, I could feel my palm tingling. I think I imagined that. It had been a long time since I had last felt magic inside of me and I longed for it even more than I did for Isen's touch. It took a considerable act of will not to throw the little thing in my mouth and swallow, even knowing it was likely to kill me. Certain to kill me. "You knew it was there."

  Tamura nodded. "I put it there. Like rain falling on the ocean, it comes back. I've been here before." He turned around. "I think. Maybe another life, another time. I hid my treasure. Found it again. Dogs bury bones."

  "Does that mean you can use magic again?" Hardt asked, ignoring Tamura's ramblings completely.

  I closed my fist around the Source and slipped it into the little leather snuff pouch tied at my belt. I imagined I could still feel it there, the pouch suddenly weighing heavily against the rope around my waist. It was all in my head, but it felt real.

  "No," I said, morose. "Without Spiceweed to make me throw it back up again it's just a fancy way of killing myself. Each Source acts on the body in a different way. There are over twenty known Sources and I am attuned to just six. I don't like my odds." I was rambling, ranting. I wiped cold sweat from my forehead and tried desperately to concentrate on something else.

  "You said you could teach me to fight?" I asked Isen. "How about we start now?"

  Chapter 28

  We spent two days camped out in that great hall. The delay grated on Yorin, that much was obvious, but he accepted the logic behind it. We were lost. Even if we could backtrack the way we had come, find our way back to the corridor with the breeze, we had no guarantee it would lead us out. Tamura claimed he had been to the city before, to the very hall we stood in, but he could answer no questions about a way in or out. His mind has always been a fragile thing and mostly so with memories.

  With the great hall as a base to explore from, we had a plan, though our dwindling supplies would not sustain us forever. I visited the armoury Isen and Hardt found, and I felt the tingle on my skin. There was magic at play, a Sourcery lasting the test of time and keeping that time from decaying everything within. I am no Chronomancer, and even now I can't fathom how that magic worked. But I was grateful it did.

  Yorin chose a pair of daggers from the armoury. He preferred to fight close where a sword would be next to useless. Hardt found some metal knuckles and claimed them at Isen's request. The big man still insisted he wouldn't use them. Tamura refused the offer of any weaponry. At least I think he refused. His reply to the suggestion was to laugh and say "Does a river need a shovel?". I have never seen Tamura so much as hold a weapon, other than the ladle back in the Trough, and nor has he ever needed to. His skill with an open hand made him something of legend after I built my empire. Even that skill couldn't stop it crumbling all around me, though.

  None of us took armour. We hoped we wouldn't need it and that much metal would only serve to slow us down. There was also the fact that most of it did not look like it was intended to fit a terran body.

  Isen preferred to fight with a sword. He liked the reach it gave him, but I was ill-suited for the weight of it at that age. We trained with shorter swords, wrapped in layers cloth. After two days, I was bruised all over and not certain of any improvement. Isen's training regime appeared to be telling me to attack and then hitting me with the flat of the blade after brushing aside my clumsy attempts. Still, I relished the chance to be close to him and basked in the false praise he threw my way. We were both fools. I for my infatuation, and he for pretending I was improving. I know now how much time and effort it takes to learn to fight, and two days is far from enough. It also requires a proper tutor, and Isen was anything but.

  As the others ranged further and further, exploring the catacombs around the hall, Isen and I indulged the heat between us. The first time I ended up in his arms was a merry accident. I swung my little sword, expecting it to connect and Isen stepped backwards. I was not yet used to the weight of the steel and I overbalanced, pitching forwards. Isen caught me and laughed, and I laughed with him. I lingered there for longer than was necessary, enjoying the feel of his arms around me and the smell of him.

  I thought myself quite clever the next two times I overbalanced and pitched forwards into him, each time slumping against his body and enjoying the feel of his warmth. I look back now and cringe at my foolish attempts to seduce Isen. A blind woman could have seen his interest in me, and these days I know all too well all I really needed to do was flash my tits and Isen would have had me on my back in moments.

  There's an old saying about the third time being the charm, and we proved it. That third time as I lingered in Isen's arms, I titled back my head to look up at him and then his lips were on mine. As first kisses go it was pleasant enough. I felt the tingle of energy and the contact certainly had the right effect further down my body. We both tasted foul but that didn't stop Isen's tongue slipping into my mouth like a leathery slug slapping at my teeth.

  All the stories I had read, and things I had been told made me think a first time should be special. Nobody ever told me the truth of it. Isen pushed me up against a nearby pillar and we pulled the rags off each other. What followed was painful, messy, awkward, and embarrassing. At least for me. Isen seemed to enjoy it well enough, and that just made it all worse.

  I clutched at the pillar with one hand and Isen's back with the other, grimacing against the pain and wishing it was over. Luckily it didn't take too long, and soon Isen was panting and leaning in, crushing me against the stone. I let out a low whine from the pain between my legs. I think Isen thought it was pleasure by the noises he made in my ear.

  No sooner had our bodies parted I collapsed to the ground, wiping at the blood and seed between my legs and shuddering at the pain of it. Isen lowered himself down next to me and let out a great sigh. I glanced sideways and saw him smiling, his eyes closed. It was all so fucking disgusting.

  I thought it was my fault. For a long time, I thought I must have done something wrong. Everything I had read, and the few people I had spoken to, told me that sex was supposed to be enjoyable, pleasurable. But I hated it. The fact that Isen so clearly enjoyed it only made me more certain I was in the wrong. My inexperience had ruined it.

  The others will know. They'll see the blood.

  The voice in my head sent panicked fear coursing through me. I pulled out a bandage, bundled it up and shoved it between my legs. It was not yet time for my cycle, but I couldn't stand the idea of the others knowing what I had done. It was a foolish fear made all the more foolish when I later realised Isen was not nearly so discreet.

  I felt a hand on my leg and startled, my breath catching in my throat, my skin crawling beneath the touch. Isen didn't seem to notice. He rubbed a hand up and down my thigh. It was so strange; just a few minutes earlier I couldn't wait for him to touch me, yet once it was over the thought of his hand on my skin made me feel sick.

  "I've been wanting to do that for a long time," Isen mumbled, sighing again.

  "Me too." I tried to hide it, but my voice was laced with disgust.

  Isen chuckled, I think more to himself than anything else. "Give me a few minutes and we can do it again."

  The thought of him inside me again sent a shiver through me. I pulled away, moving his hand and hauling myself to my feet. I pulled up my trousers and had to steady myself against the pillar, clenching my teeth against the pain.

  "The others will be back soon," I said, hating how broken my voice sounded. Thinking back, I still hate it.

  "Plenty of rooms for us to use." I looked back to see Isen staring at me with a hunger on his face. I forced a smile to my own and bit back the pain.

  "Maybe later," I said. "I have to pee." I limped away towards one of the little rooms to the s
ide of the great hall. It seemed to take a painful age before I was out of sight. I hadn't lied to Isen, I really did need to pee. I just didn't tell him that I also needed to vomit and sob silent tears into my hands.

  I have hated myself many times in my life, and more than once I have considered that the world might be better off without me in it. This was one of those times. I thought I had done something wrong. I thought something was wrong with me. Neither were true. And I hate that I let him make me feel that way. I have since learned that Isen was neither a gentle, nor a considerate lover. I have since learned that sex can be pleasurable, but not from Isen. Silva taught me that.

  I was still crouching alone in the empty room, comfortable in the darkness, when I heard voices echo in the hall. I wiped my eyes, checked the bandage between my legs was secure, and limped out to see what the others had found.

  They knew right away, I'm certain of it now. Tamura watched with me concern and Yorin with an amused smile. I think Hardt knew from the way his little brother was grinning and strutting like a fucking fool. An awkwardness settled onto the group and it was one more thing I blamed myself for.

  "Did you find anything?" I asked, stopping a good distance away from Isen and avoiding the look he sent my way.

  Yorin laughed. "Aye, we found something while you two were fucking– training."

  "Hey!" Isen growled, but he didn't move to confront Yorin. He moved to stand behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. "Eska's coming along well. I'll have her ready to fight in no time."

  I felt him step close. It no longer gave me the yearning and comfort it had. I stepped forwards, shrugging my shoulders clear of him and hating the way everyone was staring at me. Again, Yorin laughed.

  "What did you find?" I asked.

  "Whispers of the sky," Tamura said. He wasn't smiling. I noticed that and it seemed strange. Grinning always came so easy to the old man.

  "Tamura picked up a breeze again." Hardt wasn't smiling either. He had a severe look pointed right at his younger brother. "Only problem is, it comes from a collapsed tunnel. We tried going up a few levels, down a few levels. Every corridor that leads that way is collapsed. I think we can clear it, but it's going to take time."

  "And effort," Yorin put in. "Unless you two are too busy training."

  I fixed the murderer with a stare but he just shrugged and walked over to our campsite, collapsing his legs beneath him and reaching into the bag with our dwindling supply of bread.

  "So, let's go," I said. "Clear it and move on." I was eager. Perhaps a little over eager. I wanted to be out, to be free. To be away from that place. I wanted to distract myself from the guilt and shame, and I wanted to distract Isen from staring at me the way he was, making me uncomfortable in my own skin.

  Hardt held up a big hand and let out a sigh. "It's a fair way." He too started towards our campsite. "I hate to agree with Yorin here, but I think a meal and a few hours of shuteye would be best."

  The delay ground against my nerves but I nodded all the same, not wanting to seem unreasonable. Isen followed me to the others and sat close by, always watching me. I hated it and I hated myself for causing it, but I refused to make a scene in front of the others.

  We shouldn't have delayed. We should have left there and then. That was the night the eyes in the dark stopped just watching us and made their presence known.

  Chapter 29

  We should have set a watch. Yorin and I both knew we were being watched. The others thought we were safe, alone in the ruined city of the Djinn. It's a lesson I have taken to heart. I have since spent many days out in the wilderness, or sleeping alongside a road, or delving deep into forgotten ruins. These days I always set a watch.

  I woke to the sounds of Isen shouting and found he had crawled close to me in the night. Hardt had pushed me away, yet more evidence he knew what I had done. I had drifted off to sleep feeling rejected, hurt. I hated myself enough already, and I began to think I had ruined my friendship with Hardt as well. Maybe that was why my sleep was plagued with horrid dreams. Or maybe it was Ssserakis, playing on my fears to sustain itself.

  I was the last one on my feet. Isen already had his sword drawn and Yorin was in a ready crouch, knives in hand. Even Hardt had his fists clenched as though ready to finally throw a punch. Only Tamura seemed unconcerned, staring into the darkness and scratching at the patchy hair on his cheeks.

  The little yellow eyes were all around us, but in the dim blue light of the pillars we could see what they belonged to. Each of the creatures stood close to three feet with a stoop. They almost looked like children, only their heads were overly large and their arms too long to be terran. That and they had no noses. Maybe you've never seen a terran face with no nose, I assure you it's fucking creepy. They wore no clothes of any sort and if they had genitalia it certainly wasn't between their legs. Some of the little creatures had a single tail, some had two, and a few of them had three; all swishing back and forth in the gloom.

  There were hundreds of them surrounding us. But all they did was watch. Glowing yellow eyes fixed on our little group.

  "What are they doing?" Isen asked, a note of panic in his voice.

  There was no answer any of us could give. I scrambled to my feet, ignoring my aches and the need to pee. Like a wave extending outward the creatures bowed their overly large heads. Some even collapsed onto their knees.

  "Now what are they doing?" Isen's voice rose again.

  "Bowing," Hardt said and glanced sideways at me. "To you."

  They were imps, creatures from the Other World. I thought they must recognise me, my power. I was a Sourcerer, an Impomancer, though I had no Source to prove it. It was only right they would recognise one of their masters. And they did, it just wasn't me. I didn't realise it at the time. I still didn't understand the truth of what I carried inside of me. They weren't bowing down to me. They were bowing down to the ancient horror that possessed me. I felt pride at their obeisance. Only it wasn't my pride at all. I think things would have turned out quite differently if I had realised from the start just how closely Ssserakis and I were entwined.

  "Why?" Isen still held his sword ready, his head darting about to keep track of as many of the creatures as possible. "And what the fuck are they?"

  "Imps," I said. Isen's panic was grating on my nerves and I wished he'd bloody well shut up. The strange thing was I was more embarrassed at myself than angry with him. I have taken a lot of time to sort through my feelings, and I have decided that I was embarrassed that the first man I chose to have sex with was a coward and a xenophobe. I have since come to terms with it, but I was just sixteen at the time, and confused. "Lesser creatures from the Other World. They're useless for war, but many Sourcerers use them as a form of slave labour. They're docile, near tireless, and easy to command." I shook my head and scoffed in disgust. "Perfect slaves." The others might be afraid but I was not. I knew the imps wouldn't attack. All Impomancers at the Orran Academy were given a copy of the Encyclopaedia Otheria. It detailed everything the tutors had discovered about the denizens of the Other World, and it dismissed all forms of imps as beasts of burden only.

  Despite my claims I was still wary of them. I had never seen so many imps in one place before. I wondered if there was a Sourcerer nearby, one with an Impomancy Source I could steal. The thought of that power made my mouth water.

  "Is that why they're bowing to you?" Yorin was tense and I couldn't blame him, but if the imps did attack us there was no other person in our little group I'd rather have at my side. "Because you're a Sourcerer?"

  I shrugged. "I guess so."

  "You guess?" Isen's voice was still high and panicky.

  "Well, I can't exactly ask them," I said testily. "In case you haven't fucking noticed, imps don't have ears."

  "How do they hear each other?" he asked.

  Tamura let out a chuckle. "Silence down in the dark."

  "What?" Isen squeaked.

  I let out a sigh. "They don't hear each other," I said
. "They don't speak. They must communicate in some other way."

  "You don't know?" Isen asked, on the edge of panic. "I thought you were a Sourcerer." That was the last straw! I was angry at myself, that much was true, but I had anger enough to spare for Isen, and the idea that he might question my attunement to magic was a step too far. Such is the pride of youth. I was a Sourcerer and I wanted everyone to know it. To respect it. To respect me.

  I turned on Isen and fixed him with a savage glare. I thought it another trick of the mind, but the hall seemed to grow darker around us, as though my anger was sucking the light from the space. Isen shivered, his breath misting as the temperature dropped. I was just about to open my mouth and let loose a torrent of rage on the man when I noticed the imps moving away, scurrying backward while keeping their heads down.

  Isen was staring at me, fear plain on his face. I wonder if he knew then what he had screwed the day before. If he saw the horror inside of me before I did. Another relationship I ruined. As quick as he was to forget and forgive, I don't think he ever forgave me for scaring him like that down in the dark.

  "They're coming back." Hardt was tense. Well, we were all tense, but with muscles like his, it really showed.

  One of the imps crawled forwards, its head bowed and knees scraping on the rough stone beneath. It stopped just a few paces from us, heedless of the sharp steel pointed its way, and held up its hands to me. Imps have strange hands; three fingers and a thumb, all shorter than a terrran's and each ending in small claw. In those strange hands the imp held a shroom with a grey stem and a yellow cap.

  "That explains the eyes," Hardt said as he took a hesitant step forward to stand next to me. "That shroom is a shiner. We had them back in the Pit, but Deko kept them all for his lot."

  "The drug he uses?" I asked. I had heard of Shine, of course, and knew it gave a feeling of euphoria and excellent night vision. A side effect was the eerie way it made eyes shine, even in dim light.