by J. D. Netto
My eyebrows rose.
“Did you really believe those boys had the tenacity to escape this village on their own?” My eyes widened in fear. “I had someone follow all of you while you ran through the forest in a failed attempt to save your friends.”
I lowered my sword, my face shrouded with disbelief.
Dionisius clapped his hands in mockery. “It was a beautiful sight to behold.” He let out a cynical laugh. “The moment you heard your companion’s screams,” he lifted his right eyebrow, “you flapped your wings and flew toward him with such grace. You almost looked like a real hero.”
“You bastard.” The tip of my sword was aimed at him.
Bartholomew marched in my direction.
“We know the Nephilins have the Book of Letters within their grasp.” A crooked smile curved on his face. “And we know exactly how to lure them back and make them fall into our trap.”
“Where are they?” Anger had taken ahold of me.
“They are locked up in the prison with all the others. I am afraid you will not get to see them.” dragon-like wings sprung from his back, stretching to full length.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Nathan straining against the blood-drinkers’ strong grasps. The blood-drinker with dark curls had his right knee pressed on Nathan’s lower back. The other two had ahold of his arms.
Where is Arundel? I thought, darting a quick stare in the direction of the prison. Had Sathees also deserted us? The people continued to shout and scream for help, banging against the strong wooden door.
Was Bartholomew speaking the truth? Had they captured Xylia and Demetre? How did they know about the two boys?
I lifted my eyes to the sky as two blood-drinkers hovered over us. They flew down like eagles ready to snatch up helpless prey. I had not forgotten Dahmian’s flaming red hair and Ashtar’s thin, pale face. Dahmian wore a laced gray shirt with a scarlet coat that fell above his knees. Fresh blood stained his boots. Ashtar wore a beige doublet with intricate golden patterns. A brown belt was wrapped around his waist.
“I see you had time to find yourselves some new clothes.” Bartholomew scowled, his eyes trailing across their bodies.
They looked at me. Their noses wrinkled as their eyebrows pulled down.
“And I see that you had the time to find yourself a new toy to play with,” Dahmian said in a spiteful tone.
Ashtar was quiet; his black eyes fixed on me.
“The service you requested from us has been completed,” Dahmian informed Bartholomew.
“Good,” he whispered. “It won’t be long until the Nephilins and that Fallen Ruler come looking for her.”
Confusion stirred within me. Could it be that they had also captured Nephele? Was she the one they spoke of?
My thoughts were interrupted by the white dragon’s roars. The creature wobbled its thick neck, rising from the ground. It stood on its four legs.
“Why is the dragon able to stand?” Bartholomew shouted at the top of his lungs. He darted an angry stare at the three blood-drinkers that held Nathan against the ground. “Bhor, did you feed it human flesh?”
“Yes, Bartholomew,” replied the blood-drinker with the dark hair and vest. His eyes were the color of fresh blood. “We fed it fresh meat. We gutted those two kids that were with the red-headed girl and the other boy.”
I did not want to believe that they had captured them, but after hearing Bhor’s accounts, I knew that they had Xylia and Demetre.
The white dragon unfurled its strong wings to their massive width.
“Tame this beast.” Bartholomew was desperate. The blood-drinkers did not move from their place. They stood at bay, watching the dragon regain its full strength.
While they had their eyes set on the beast, I glanced at the prison. I was relieved to see Arundel standing at its wooden doors. The patterns on his skin glistened while he lifted the thick log that sealed both doors.
I squinted my eyes as a sudden bright flash of light radiated. Once the light receded, I noticed that Nathan had broken free from the grasp of those that held him. I glanced around, attempting to find him, but he was nowhere in sight.
“Where is the Underwarrior?” Dahmian’s eyes searched the sky. “Where is he?”
Bohr and the other two blood-drinkers stared in a daze.
“Did you see where he went, Daine?” Bohr asked the blood-drinker that stood next to him. Like Ashtar, he had no hair on his head. A tattered red beard hid most of his jaw and cheeks. His eyes had a lively green hue.
“I was standing next to you the whole time. Of course I do not know where the Underwarrior went,” he replied with an angry stare. He set his eyes on his other companion.
“Do not look at me, Daine.” The other blood-drinker paced away from his companions. “I am as confused as all of you.” He had his tangled black hair behind his ears. His eyes were the color of the midday sky. He wore a rugged, brown coat with a thick leather belt. His boots were smothered in mud and blood.
I squinted my eyes, recognizing his familiar face. He was the blood-drinker that I had seen drinking the blood that poured out of Sela’s body.
“Anwill, enough babbling.” Bartholomew pointed his finger at the white dragon. “We must tame this creature.”
No one responded to Bartholomew’s order. They feared the consuming flames the dragon could release upon them.
The white dragon’s roars loudened. The ground trembled as the beast sank its claws into the damp soil. I was alarmed when I caught sight of its quivering jaw. It glowered at the blood-drinkers; smoke billowed from its nostrils. The beast flapped its wings, raising its body from the ground. Without warning, it revealed its razor-sharp teeth. It recoiled its head backwards and, in great fury, released fire over the blood-drinkers.
Bohr, Daine, and Anwill dodged the flames, casting their bodies in the opposite direction. In an instant, wings appeared on their backs. Bartholomew, Dahmian, Ashtar, and Dionisius left the ground, soaring into the sky. The dragon was agitated, setting ablaze all that stood in its path.
Without hesitating, I glided to where Arundel stood. I knew it was only a matter of time until one of them saw us.
Before I could reach the prison, Dahmian descended in my direction and, with the sole of his right foot, plunged my body to the ground. My chest thudded against the broken pieces of burnt wood that lay scattered.
“Open the doors, Arundel!” I managed to shout across the sounds of battle as I tried to recover my breath. An uncomfortable pain filled my lungs.
With sweat trickling down his brow, Arundel opened the prison doors. The people raced their way out of the building, screaming as they caught sight of the battle that unfolded around them. My heart accelerated in my chest while my eyes searched for Xylia and Demetre.
Ashtar and Dionisius wheeled in the air and dove their way to the people, attacking them with flashes of light that caused massive explosions. Bodies flew across the village; limbs scattered around us as the blood-drinkers struck them.
I dashed toward the fearful crowd.
“Xylia!” I pushed many out of my path as I looked for them. “Demetre!”
I heard a loud whooshing sound coming from above me. I shot up an alarmed stare, catching sight of the white dragon hovering above the burning village. The buildings that still remained standing were now enveloped in bright, blue flames. An ashen smoke covered the air.
“Xylia!” I shouted once again. “Demetre!”
Two blood-drinkers came into sight through the smoke cloud. As fast as the eye could see, they leaped atop the desperate crowd. They grabbed those that were within their reach and sank their fangs into the people’s skins. Like mountain lions feasting on their prey, they ripped off the arms and legs of those that were around them, drinking from the flowing blood.
With heavy breaths, Arundel rushed to my side, dodging the scattered debris that fell like rain. Flashes of lightning lit up the clouds, brightening the darkness caused by the storm.
“
Where are the others?” I was desperate. “Have you seen Nathan, Xylia, and Demetre?”
“No, I did not see them,” he said between short breaths.
“They were taken.” I coughed due to the lingering smoke. “Xylia and Demetre were captured. We must find them.”
Arundel scowled, raising his head.
“Look over there,” he whispered, pointing to something behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Bartholomew entering one of the abandoned houses. With watchful eyes, he surveyed his surroundings, ensuring that none followed him.
“Whatever he is looking for must be of extreme importance,” I said. “They might be inside that house.”
We started toward the house. Agony struck my heart with each scream I heard. I wondered if these people would turn into Shadows. Alistar must have shared with them some truth about the Creator. I struggled to ignore the children being murdered around us by the bloodthirsty creatures that attacked them. A mixture of blood, mud, and rain covered the earth beneath our feet.
“Get down,” I said, lowering my body as we approached the house.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Nathan amidst the trees. His gaze was set on us but he made no attempt to come our way.
“Nathan,” I whispered. “Are you alright?”
He gave me a quick nod. “Look in there.” He mouthed the words to me, cocking his head toward the house.
I lifted my eyes to look through the clouded glass of the broken window. A cold chill shot down my spine as my eyes absorbed the unthinkable.
“What is it?” Arundel whispered, shaking me by the shoulder.
I was at a loss for words. Inside the house were Demetre, Xylia, and the most unthinkable prisoner of all—Nephele. They had pierced her right leg with a rusted sword, leaving the blade inside. Blood seeped from her wounds, staining her dark garments. She was in a stupor.
Demetre and Xylia had their hands tied behind their backs. Their faces were covered with scratches and bruises.
“Well, well, well.” Bartholomew spread out his arms as he shrugged his wings. “To think that I have in the same room Isaac’s most loyal companions and his worst enemy.”
He bent down, grasping Xylia by the cheeks, standing inches away from her chapped lips.
“I wonder how you taste, girl.” He trailed his tongue across his lips, his long pair of fangs coming into view.
She recoiled her head, furrowed her brow, and spit on his lips.
“How does that taste, monster?” She shrugged her shoulders.
Bartholomew’s lips curved into a menacing smile. He leaned in closer to her.
“Leave her alone!” Demetre shouted, trying to break free from the ropes that tied him.
He trailed his lips across Xylia’s ears and neck. She trembled at his touch. My hands turned into fists.
“I will kill you, girl,” he said, standing back on his feet. “But not today. I still need you.”
Arundel raised his head, glancing inside the house. He gasped, lowering his head in shock.
I darted Nathan a desperate stare.
“We have to help them,” I mumbled, feeling my heart race inside my chest.
The thundering roars of the white dragon echoed as the battle raged. The screams of the people were ceasing—a sign that many of them had been killed by the blood-drinkers.
How I wish I had the power to muster this ability that had developed in me. I desired to kill Bartholomew. To see my companions suffering at the hands of this tyrant infuriated me. A part of me did rejoice at the sight of Nephele’s suffering at the hands of the blood-drinkers. She was not worthy of life or mercy.
Nathan laid his body on the ground, crawling his way to us. He rose to his feet as he approached the house, resting his back against the wall. Mud dripped from his garments.
“Stay there,” he whispered between heavy breaths. “Save them. Do not come looking for me.”
Without warning, he dashed his body against the door, crushing it to pieces. Surprised, Bartholomew turned to him. At that moment, Nathan spread his wings, flinging his body against the blood-drinker.
Wings sprung out of Bartholomew’s back. He pushed Nathan against the wall, bringing most of it to the ground. Bartholomew let out a spiteful laugh as dust arose from the wall’s scattered fragments.
“Nathan!” Xylia’s eyes glistened.
Demetre took in heavy breaths as his eyes searched his surroundings. His face lit up once he saw Arundel and me through the clouded window.
“I thought you had left us,” Bartholomew said, wiping his mouth with his wrist. Nathan rose to his feet, unsheathing his sword.
“I had to return, Bartholomew. I could not leave a coward like you alive to roam these lands.”
“Coward?” The veins on Bartholomew’s neck protruded beneath his skin.
“And to think that you were a king of men once.” Nathan raised both of his eyebrows. “Look at you now, king of the vermin. You are doomed to live your days feasting on the blood of the innocent.”
“Hold your tongue, Underwarrior, or I will kill you.”
“Empty words from an empty soul.” Nathan let out a low laugh. “Do you even have a soul, Bartholomew?”
Bartholomew’s wings fluttered as he propelled his body against Nathan. While he hovered in the air, Nathan swung his blade, striking his forearm. They both darted toward the sky, disappearing amidst the rising smoke.
“This is our chance.” Arundel and I arose to our feet, running inside the house.
“Am I glad to see you, my friend,” Demetre said with a smile as he shook his head. Drops of water dripped down his wet hair.
“I thought you had both been killed,” Xylia wailed.
Arundel and I untied our companions. From the corner of my eye, I saw my enemy. Nephele had her head bowed, unconscious of everything that happened around her. It was strange seeing her in such a fragile state.
“Is she alive?” Arundel scowled at her while helping Xylia stand on her feet.
“She is.” Xylia darted Nephele a disdaining look. “I hope they kill her.”
Xylia rubbed her fingers over the bite marks on her wrist.
“Who did this to you?” I narrowed my eyes, trailing my hands over the scattered wounds. She withdrew her arm, hiding it behind her back.
“She was not the only one.” Demetre stretched out his arm, revealing the wounds on his hands and wrists. “Dahmian and Ashtar drank our blood. The moment you both left, we were attacked by three blood-drinkers. Their names were Dionisius, Daine, and Anwill. They pinned us to the ground and sank their fangs into our bodies. We fell unconscious and woke up here. They wanted to use as bait to lure the Nephilins into their trap. If they had you and Xylia, they knew the Nephilins would come looking for you. They need your books and the blood-drinkers want the Book of Letters.”
The blood-drinkers were much cleverer than I had given them credit for.
“Where is Nathan?” Xylia inquired, staring through the opening in the wall. A thick cloud of smoke dimmed our visibility.
“We have to help him,” Demetre said.
I tilted my face in his direction. “He told us not to come looking for him.”
“Are we to just leave him here?” Xylia walked to the gap in the wall. “He helped us. We cannot abandon him.”
“We must trust him,” Arundel retorted. “We must leave this place at once.” The markings on his skin continued to exude a soft glow.
“Arundel is right. We cannot linger.” I marched toward the door. The bellowing roars of the white dragon still thundered in the air.
Xylia’s face grew despondent. She knew we could not help him.
“Have you seen Sathees?” Her voice sounded as if it was caught in her throat.
“There is no sign of him,” I replied, standing beneath the doorpost. “We have to go now. Once we make it to the trees, we keep on running. Do not look back.” I bore my eyes into theirs.
“What about her?” Demet
re cocked his head toward Nephele.
“Let her suffer at the hands of her hosts. I am sure she will enjoy her stay with them.” Though I desired to take her life, I knew the blood-drinkers would enjoy torturing this Nephilin. She deserved a slow and painful death.
We darted our way out of the house, running as fast as our legs allowed us. The rain poured like a deluge. Explosions and screams were a symphony reverberating around us. I attempted to ignore all the lifeless bodies that lay scattered—men, women, children, and Lessers.
My eyes gazed at the sky, hoping to spot Nathan, but he was nowhere in sight.
A loud roar came from behind me. I darted a quick look over my shoulder and saw the white dragon flying in our direction. It flapped its strong wings as it headed toward the ground.
Arundel came to a halt when he saw the markings on his body glowing with a bright, incandescent light. He frowned at the sight, confused.
“What is going on with you, Arundel?” Xylia widened her eyes.
“I am not sure.” He glanced at the approaching dragon.
The white dragon let out guttural sounds as its claws sank beneath the mud. It recoiled its wings and bowed its head.
“What does it want?” Demetre’s eyes trailed across the animal.
The white dragon clumped toward Arundel. He stumbled back, afraid that the animal might harm him. Standing only inches away, the white dragon screeched, lowering its thick neck to the ground.
“I think it wants you to ride it, Arundel.” Xylia leaned her head forward, looking at the eyes of the dragon.
“And you just might have to,” I said with an edge to my voice, watching as two blood-drinkers flew at great speed, heading in our direction. “Xylia and Demetre, ride with him.”
With fearful eyes, they gave me a nod of agreement.
“Head to the mountaintop. We can hide there,” I said.
Arundel crawled onto the wings of the white dragon. The light that shone from the markings on his skin grew stronger once he mounted the beast. Xylia and Demetre followed him, sitting closer to the dragon’s tale.
The white dragon raised its head, squawking as it flailed its wings. Arundel clung to one of the dragon’s dorsal spikes as the animal rose from the ground.