He was afraid to ask what sort of torture the gajrin had inflicted on her. “He took me because after my family was dead I had nothing left in me. Ragnar misunderstood my lack of emotion. He thought it was strength and that appealed to him. That’s why he made me his property.”
Bailynn cursed as she struck the rocks against her fingers instead of each other. She waved them off when Logan and Haley looked, then went back to trying to send a spark into the kindling she’d gathered.
“I learned and I became strong because of him. I was forbidden to wear clothing but after a time I turned even that into something I enjoyed. I learned to use it against him, to define who I was and make myself stronger. As odd as it sounds, I even respect him now that I understand him. What he did was wrong, but it was wrong by human standards, not by his.”
Logan grunted. “Wrong is wrong.”
“Is it? I have lived among two separate races, each with very different values. What I can tell you is wrong is not being able to protect what is yours. Somebody, somewhere, will always seek to take what you have, no matter if it’s a possession, a person, or a way of life.”
Logan’s thoughts went to the elves before the elders had returned. The elves had lived with their idea what was right and wrong. It often was contrary to how humans felt. Elves believed in enslaving other races and ruling through power and tyranny. Many humans weren’t much better, but Logan refused to work with people like that. Considering the time he’d spent amongst the reformed elves since the elders had returned, it wasn’t that much of a leap for Logan to imagine what Haley spoke of.
“Ha!” Bailynn cried out. A small fire flickered and then spread amongst the dried leaves and twigs she’d gathered.
Haley turned to stare towards the hills that were now hidden by the darkness. “Is a fire a good idea this close?”
“I’d welcome a guide back to the White Lady’s palace.”
Haley nodded as she thought about it, a sinister smile coming to her face. “Should we make it bigger?”
They ate what little rations remained and took turns sleeping. The night remained calm, even the dark clouds were reluctant to break the stillness and unleash their rains. The morning came dark and somber.
“It would be better if it would rain,” Haley observed when they buried the coals of their fire in preparation to set out.
“For the fire?” Bailynn asked.
“No, it’s stuffy and wet. If it rained it would cool down.”
“It’s not that hot out,” Bailynn pointed out.
“It will be. Days like this are the ones that made me happy to be amongst the gajrin.”
“After the experiences you had?” Logan was confused by her statement.
“There’s often a breeze on the plains and no clothing to stop it from reaching my skin.”
“Oh!” Logan glanced away, embarrassed for some reason. Haley had spent days with them without a stitch on and he’d gotten used to it. Now that she was wearing clothing again he had trouble seeing or thinking of her otherwise.
Further attempts at conversation felt awkward to Logan. They finished readying their belongings and set off, Haley leading the way. They left the woods behind, aside from the occasional scattering of trees as they moved into a hilly region.
The hills grew larger and steeper. Haley soon abandoned her attempts to crest the hills and see what was in the distance. She walked along the base, winding through them at first then finding they were forced into paths of mostly flat ground with occasional rubble scattered about them. The cliffs rose on either side of them, sometimes growing narrow enough to seem as though a dead end was destined to be ahead of them.
“A maze?” Bailynn asked when they came to the first junction of narrow canyons.
Haley turned, her hand slicing across the air in a silencing motion. She turned and pointed. Ahead of them there were bones and piles of waste littering the canyon floor. All three lifted their eyes upwards and saw movement high on the cliffs. Sometimes a tail poked over the edge, other times a wing or a reptilian head. They seemed small but all three knew with the distance that they were at least the size of a grown man, more likely larger. It wasn’t until one took flight, leaping out from the cliff and spreading its wings to catch the air before flapping them and sailing up and out of the canyon that they stared speechless at one another.
“Dragon?” Bailynn whispered.
“Wyvern,” Logan corrected. “I’ve heard rumors of dragons but never known a world where one was real.
Haley shook her head before whispering, “Such creatures are myths and legends here.”
“I don’t doubt they exist on some worlds. I’ve even heard the elves talking of dragons that can fly through the void,” Logan added as softly as possible.
“Be quiet, we need to move through here,” Haley said, her eyes delivering a tone far more severe than her voice suggested.
She led the way, slipping along the rocks without a whisper of sound. Logan followed her, trying to mimic her stealth. He failed, he knew, but grew better as he called on the instincts of the spirit that had joined with his own. The downside of tapping into the wolf was the greater sense of smell he took on – the piles of waste threatened to make his eyes water with their stench.
Bailynn followed behind, the slight woman now the loudest and clumsiest of the three. Their journey, thought nerve-wracking, proved to be without physical threat. They made it to another junction of canyons, through which Haley led them to their right, deeper into the labyrinthine passages.
The Wyverns above stayed constant, though they seemed uninterested in what lay beneath them. As the day wore on and they explored more passages the wyverns above started to return, most carrying captured spoils. Whenever possible they hid in the shadows, relying upon a combination of luck and satiation on the wyverns’ part after their morning hunt.
One flew in behind them, the sun casting its shadow even further behind. It wasn’t until Logan’s enhanced hearing heard the sound of air hissing past the creatures wings. He glanced up and saw it gliding in rapidly, legs extended towards Bailynn. He jumped, tackling Bailynn and knocking her to the ground so the Wyvern passed over them.
Haley grunted as it flapped its wings and sent her sprawling with the accidental buffeting it gave her. It crashed into the ground, Haley’s interference causing it to tilt to the side. Logan pushed himself off of Bailynn and charged at the wyvern, intent on silencing it before others were alerted.
It crawled back to its feet, the long scaled snout bristling with teeth open and ready to snap at them. Logan slammed into it, driving it back while he drove his hands into it repeatedly. The wyvern’s wings slapped at him but he was inside the range of its mouth.
“Logan!” Bailynn hissed, her voice cutting through the red haze he was immersed in. He stopped and backed away from it, staring at the bloody mess he’d made of the wyvern’s torso. He pulled the wolf back in just enough to look and feel mostly human again. “Next time we’ll find something bigger, okay?”
Logan looked at her and then Haley, who had one corner of her lip twisted up in a smile. H turned and saw the wyvern was almost half again as tall as he was. Seeing the wyvern reminded him to look up. None of the others showed any sign of awareness or interest.
“Let’s move on, no telling when another might see us,” Logan said, anxious to put the incident behind him. He’d behaved viciously. It was necessary, the wyvern had to be silenced quickly. If he’d have known how big it was he might have tried something else.
High sun came and passed and still they explored the canyons. Logan was certain finding their way back out would take at least as long. He also began to suspect that the brown and slate walls of the maze looked all too familiar. Had they retraced their steps already?
“Haley!” He risked a whisper at one point. “Have we gone this way before?”
She looked at him and then point down to the ground. His eyes followed hers, confused. Finally she whispered back to him, �
�Tracks!”
He saw none on the ground, which confused him. The ground they walked on was hard packed, though often soft patches of dirt remained. He turned around, looking behind, and saw his footsteps. He turned back and saw none. He nodded, realizing what she’d been trying to tell him. They hadn’t been through that passage yet. He motioned her on.
The day waned, the sun passing overhead and plunging the canyons into shadows. Haley turned into one that ran east and west, reclaiming daylight for another thirty minutes until the sun dipped below the rim of the canyons again.
“Trapped in these things in the dark?” Bailynn whispered.
“Hush, let’s hurry,” Haley urged. Without waiting for a response she pushed on, sacrificing some stealth for speed.
Logan could imagine how the women felt. In spite of his special nature he was tired. His legs ached, having had no time to rest and recover. He followed Haley dutifully, though visions of roasting rabbits and game birds filled his mind.
Haley turned left midway down the chasm they followed. She stopped a dozen feet in and knelt down, her hand hovering over the ground in front of her. Already it was growing too dark for Logan to see details, he had no idea how she managed it.
“This way leads out,” Haley said. She glanced up then turned back. “Come, the other way!”
“It’s nearly too dark to see the ground,” Logan argued.
“This one last passage, if there’s nothing I’ll lead us out and we’ll search again tomorrow.”
“Can there be any more of these things?” Bailynn groaned.
“Days more, I think. These are the easy ones.”
Bailynn swore but moved aside so Haley could walk past her and head back into the passages.
“How do you know it led out?” Logan asked her as they walked.
“Footprints in the dirt heading both ways, though I’ve never seen the kind of creature that makes them. I’ve kept track of where we are, less than a thousand paces and we’d be back amongst the hills.”
Logan nearly repeated Bailynn’s earlier curse. How Haley could keep her senses about her in those canyons was beyond him. Even with the sun he’d often doubted himself.
She led them back further down the canyon to the west until another passage opened to the north. She followed it without hesitation. Logan noted how much darker and cooler it felt, not to mention the walls seemed narrower. The only positive he could see was the lack of detritus along the ground, allowing for smooth walking.
Logan was near to telling Haley to call it off for the night. He couldn’t even see where the cliffs ended and the sky began above him anymore. Haley’s victorious gasp stopped him. Ahead he noticed it was slightly lighter. He also caught a whiff of something long since dead. He felt a growl trying to make its way out of his throat but he contained it.
The cliffs fell away from them, opening into a circular opening. In the middle of the strange bowl a spire of rock rose to the sky. He supposed it was probably no taller than the surrounding cliffs but it certainly seemed symbolic.
“I don’t see a castle or even a house,” Bailynn muttered.
Logan sniffed. The smell of decay was stronger here. He looked around but the darkness thwarted him. He tested the air some more but couldn’t pin down the direction of the foul odors. His other senses failed but his hearing made up for it. It was a strange rustling noise that came from several sources ahead of them.
“Something’s happening ahead of us,” he warned.
“Skeletons again, they’re climbing up out of the ground,” Bailynn hissed. She dropped into a crouch.
Logan scowled. It was time to be vicious again.
Chapter 12
Bekka felt like she was on fire. Her skin tingled everywhere as though a thousand tiny flames were caressing her. She ached for need of a breath of cool air but all she had was Constance’s mouth pressing against hers. Constance compelled her to return the embrace even to the point where colored spots appeared behind her closed eyes.
The White Lady pulled back, allowing Bekka’s head to collapse back onto the bed. Her pulse thundered in her ears at an unnatural rate. She gasped in rapid breaths, trying to calm herself. Still she burned with need and without realizing it, reached for Constance.
The White Lady had backed away, her head turned towards the door. Bekka saw a smudge on her face, something that was entirely unexpected. Constance was always so composed and proper looking. Bekka wondered if the paint on her lips had still been wet. Had it smeared? She dropped her hand, which felt impossibly heavy, and reached for her own face. She became aware in the distance of a pounding against the door of her room.
Constance strode over to it and yanked it open. She stepped through it before Bekka could see anything. The sorceress returned her attention to herself, the fires within her burning higher than ever. She wondered if ripping off her magnificent dress would allow her body to cool. Her hand, absent-mindedly forgotten, dropped against her chest.
She lifted it up and stared at it, noticing a similar stain. She looked closer, forcing her tired eyes to focus on it. The dim light in the room offered little aid, but her partial elven heritage made up the difference and allowed her to see it clearly after a moment. A reddish stain, still damp. She sniffed it but had trouble identifying the odor. It was familiar, it reminded her of kissing Constance. She sucked gently on her finger, trying to relive the moment, and tasted the coppery sweetness of it.
Bekka’s eyes widened as a moment of clarity intruded. The coppery taste wasn’t a spice, it was blood!
Constance slammed the door shut, breaking Bekka’s concentration again. She strode over to her and stared down, the hard anger written on her face fading as she stared at the supine sorceress.
“My dear, sweet Bekka,” Constance said to her. “The time has come.”
“Time?” Bekka asked. Even her speech was slurred and tired sounding.
“Yes, either you must be with me for now and forever, or you will be gone. I won’t force the decision, it must be yours. Do you want to be with me?”
Bekka tried to nod but wasn’t sure it worked. She was so tired and talking seemed like an impossible effort.
“You’ll be undying, my love. No sickness or disease can touch you. Immortality, at my side. It’s a long time, I’ve searched for you for over a century. How ironic that you would show up on my doorstep.”
Bekka’s breath hissed through her teeth. Her heart, still jumping in her chest at an impossible rate, seemed to jump higher. Constance had said she loved her!
“Don’t speak, I see you’re close now. Marshal your strength, beloved, and drink from me.”
“Drink?” Bekka gasped. Faint memories of the blood on her finger and lips came to her. Was she to drink Constance’s blood?
“Yes, drink of me. Become like me. Share my essence and we will be sisters and friends and lovers forever. Nothing can separate us, not even death.”
Bekka swallowed nervously, though doing so with her dry throat was difficult.
“I wanted more time with you, but the thought of rejection pained me. I wanted to tell you everything, but instead I found I couldn’t deny myself little bits of you. I’ve been so unfair to you, my love. Not as I should’ve been. Please forgive me and become my equal. You can spend all of eternity learning your sorcery then.”
“With you?” Bekka asked, her voice barely a whisper. She’d heard Constance but it seemed so distant and unreal. Was this really happening or was it all a dream?
“Yes,” Constance said, misunderstanding her. “You’d be bound here with me. I admit it, you’d never travel the void again. I won’t dare risking the solar winds you spoke so fondly of. They’re deadly to one of my kind. Of our kind.”
Leave the void behind? Bekka wondered if she could do that. She was a helmsman, she piloted voidships among the stars and merged herself with them to become one. To never do such a thing would leave a hole in her life. A hole that Constance wanted to fill.
And wh
y not? She’d been searching for acceptance her entire life. To finally find someone who didn’t care how confused she was about what she loved in a person was amazing. Even more, Constance cherished her because Bekka did love her. All she had to do was to become like her. To drink of her and share her essence. To become one of the hunted and feared legends told to children to keep them in line. Bekka would forsake not only the void, but the light of day. She’d become a vampire.
She understood now why Constance had been afraid to tell her. She also understood why the White Lady had hidden her staff from her. She’d been snatched from the entrance to Constance’s home by a pair of skeletal hands. That, then, was the realm of servants that Constance ruled. An army of the walking dead.
“I see clarity and understanding in your eyes. You know why I’ve hidden it from you, yes? You know how strongly I feel and why I was so torn. I’ve not felt like this in all my life, Bekka. I’ve dreamed and fantasized, but never has it been so real and so close. I’ve had everything I’ve ever wanted save for someone at my side. Now we have that chance. You can have everything you’ve wanted, with someone at your side. I’m envious of the opportunity before you, but I don’t spurn you for it. Come, my love, before it’s too late. Your heart is near to bursting, I can hear its frantic plea to try and push what meager essence that remains in you through your veins.”
That was why she was so tired. Constance had been drinking from her every day. It was intoxicating and unlike anything she’d ever experienced, but always left her more tired than before. Now it was nearly over. She opened her mouth and licked her lips, longing for a drink to sooth her parched throat.
Constance’s eyes twinkled. She pulled a knife free from her boot then held out her arm above Bekka. “This will make everything better,” she promised.
Voidhawk - the White Lady Page 16