"Not again..."
The candles' flames were gone along with what little light they had provided. A meager glow spread out from beneath the door, barely lighting the boots on his feet. Nolan pressed himself against the door. He hated being in a pitch-black room, regardless of whether it was his bedroom or a cell. The darkness seemed to press down on him. Crush him. He heard the scratching of animals coming from the walls and moving across the floor. He needed to get out of there.
Fueled by fear, Nolan began fervently working at his restraints again. He didn't care anymore how badly he sliced up his wrists. He wanted his hands free. Needed them free. What if whatever was crawling around tried to crawl onto him? Get into his clothes? Claw its way up his skin?
Nolan tripled his efforts.
By the time Nolan heard the satisfying snap of the ropes coming free, his hands were dripping with sweat.
No, that metallic smell isn't sweat.
Lifting his hands up in front of his face, he could barely see a tint of red covering his skin. How badly had he injured his wrists? They felt raw to his touch, and wet, but his skin wasn't spurting blood. Nolan took a few deep, calming breaths. The darkness still threatened to smother him, but just having his hands free seemed to help. He no longer heard the scratching of claws on stone. Had it been his mind playing tricks on him? His mind did a lot of things now that he had no control over.
Another sound caught his ear. Boots on stone. Someone was coming.
Nolan bent down, searching for the discarded ropes. A shockwave of pain raced through his body as his knee knocked into the wall. He found the rope just as he heard the clinking sound of a key going into a lock. Scrambling away from the door, he ended up rolling onto his side in the middle of the room just as the click of the lock disengaging echoed in the room. Nolan tried to ignore the pain bouncing around his body as the door opened and a man entered.
"Ah, my mistake." He sounded young, but with what little light entered the room coming from behind him, Nolan couldn't make anything else out about the man. "Didn't mean to let the light go out. I fell asleep."
Nolan didn't feel the need to respond to his captor. Looking through the door, all he could see was a dimly lit stone corridor. He remained motionless as the man moved over to the nearest candleholder and put in a new candle.
"We don't want to treat you like this, of course, but we have to be careful." He lit the candle and moved onto the next one. "You worked for the Ciantar family for a long time. It's understandable you feel some kind of loyalty to them. I'm sure they paid you a great deal of money over the years."
With the second candle lit and some light returning to the room, Nolan was able to make out a bit more about the man. Nothing special jumped out at him at first. Plain clothes covered an average-sized man. His more than shoulder-length brown hair was tied behind his head. A plain face with no distinguishable marks glanced at him for a moment, then moved on to the next sconce. Nolan rolled around, both to keep his eyes on the man and to keep his captor from seeing his hands were free. It was when the man reached the fourth candleholder that Nolan noticed the color of the man's clothes. His dark green shirt clashed with his maroon pants.
And a band of orange hung from his waist.
"You're part of the Orange Hound Gang."
He let out a laugh. "It's the clothes that give it away, right? Our leader takes great pride in our outfits. I think it's foolish to make it so obvious whom we work for, but you won't catch me saying that to his face. I value my life too much to go running my mouth around him or any of the other higher-ups of the gang."
"Where is Ezzy?"
"She's fine."
"Can you be a bit more specific?"
"They are keeping her asleep. Don't want that metal giant of hers causing any problems until we can load you all into the wagons and take you back to Wethrintir."
"What? Why are we going there?"
"Oh, wasn't supposed to mention that...ah, by the Abyss, I guess it doesn't matter if I tell you. Just act surprised when my the man in charge of our crew comes in to talk to you."
"Ok." Nolan would say anything to keep the man talking.
"Well, the Big Boss is situated in Wethrintir. Controls quite a bit of the homes and stores there. Our numbers grow every day, and we have members in every village and city, except Rottwealth, of course. Impossible to get anyone into that backward village."
"What does that have to do with us?"
"Well, the boss has taken a bit of interest in you three. Probably because you've messed with his men so much. He's been interested in Esmerelda since her Vilathos punched all those holes in his town. You can't get away with doing that without there being consequences."
"So this is purely motivated by revenge?"
"Well, I wouldn't say that. The boss could have had us torture and kill her here. Would have still sent the same message. He might still do that with that crimson freak of a woman. She doesn't really hold much value to our group."
"But Ezzy and I do?"
"Well, like I said, I'm not very high in the pecking order, but I have heard enough to put a few things together. Esmerelda is a prominent person in the realm, even with her family falling so far. She might still have some worth. She is certainly pretty enough to be put to work, if you know what I mean. After they break that stubborn spirit of hers. You're the real prize, though."
"Me? Why me?"
"Because you're a Thaljori. And a good one from what the men have learned about you. It's not like there are hundreds of your kind either. The few of you that exist all reside in Lurthalan, rarely leave the city, and most of you would be noticed if you went missing. It's almost impossible to snatch one of you up right when your powers first start to show. Our boss has failed at recruiting any of the established Thaljori in the realm as well. That makes you very valuable."
"You mean I'm being held here because he wants to hire me?"
"Seems that way."
"Well, you can tell him or whoever you report to that I'm retired."
"I wouldn't make any decisions yet. You have the whole trip back to Wethrintir to think it over. Ben can be quite persuasive."
"Ben? Is that the same man that's been chasing us all over the realm?"
"The one and the same. He was put in charge of our little group sent to bring you in. I can't even begin to tell you how frustrated you've made him. Ben came storming into town, swearing up a storm about the three of you. Especially that monster of a woman. I've found Ben to be a patient man, probably part of the reason he has risen in the ranks so fast, but getting shot with an arrow will test any man's temper. Your friend might not make it to Wethrintir, if you catch my meaning."
"We're hardly friends..."
"Oh? Well anyway, like I was saying, I wouldn't get too set on turning down our boss. You might not like the crimson one that much, but he knows you are close to the Ciantar family. He might keep Esmerelda around just to use her as leverage to get you to work for him. And he likes removing people's fingers, just as a warning. It's his thing, I guess, to stand out among the other gang leaders."
"He better not touch her. None of you better even lay a finger on her."
"See? You get all worked up over just the mention of hurting her. Might as well just accept the fact you'll be working for the Orange Hounds. I'm sure if you do as you're told, you will be rewarded handsomely."
Nolan glared at the man. The way he could so casually talk about hurting Ezzy sickened him. This thug...no, everyone associated with the Orange Hounds, were nothing but monsters.
"Well," the man said, moving towards the door. "Someone will bring you some food later. The wagons should get here by tomorrow, so until then, this room will be your...wait a tick. What's this?"
Kneeling by the door, the man knelt and examined the floor. When his hand was raised, a red tint was clear on his fingers.
"You hurt? I can't have you making a mess of yourself." He gave Nolan a quick looking over. "Stand up. Let me take a better look at you."
Not knowing what else to do, Nolan stood.
"Turn around. Let me see your hands."
Nolan stood still.
"Come on, old man. Don't make this difficult. Our orders are to not hurt you much. That leaves a lot of freedom to decide how much is much."
Nolan shrugged. Not much else he could do. Spreading his arms wide, he let the man see the damage he had done to his wrists getting free.
"Well, you're more resourceful than we all thought. That's a shame though. I'm going to have to tie your hands again. The rope certainly won't feel good on those wrists now. Maybe we can get that looked at tonight."
Nolan took a step back. This would probably be his only chance to escape, except the man in front of him was younger, stronger, and probably knew how to fight. Nolan didn't even have a weapon to flail about wildly at the man. His shoulder burned and his knee ached to the point he could barely keep much weight on it. Still, he had to try.
"Listen," the man took a step towards him, "I'll try to leave it as loose as I can without it being easy for you to slip out or get the knots loose. Best I can do."
Nolan took another step back.
"I swear, though, if you try to fight me in this, I'll make you regret it."
Nolan's back hit the wall.
"See? Nowhere to go. Now just stick your hands out--"
Nolan threw a punch.
It wasn't the most well executed attack, but he had watched Ezzy get in enough scraps to at least put a little power into it.
It glanced off the man's shoulder. The expression on his face was more of disappointment than pain.
The punch the man threw, on the other hand, struck Nolan square in the chest. He stumbled backwards and struck the wall, his knees buckling as the breath left his body.
"Now don't make me hit you again. I feel bad hitting an old man. Doesn't mean I won't knock a few of your teeth free, but I'll feel bad doing it."
Nolan lashed out a kick. It hit the man's shin, making him stumble a step. He retaliated with a back hand that rattled Nolan's teeth but didn't knock any free.
"Now I'm getting annoyed." Gripping Nolan's shirt, the man lifted him off the ground and slammed him against the wall. "If it will be easier to tie you up while you are unconscious, I have no problem with that."
Nolan grabbed the man's arm and tried to pull it off him, but he wasn't even strong enough to give it a good shake.
Another backhand almost succeeded in knocking him out, but he held on. Barely. Held up by the man, his eyes closed from the pain, Nolan wanted to just give in. Sleep was certainly better than lying awake on a stone floor. Peaceful sleep.
Then he thought of Ezzy.
Nolan wasn't sure what made him reach out with his magic. Maybe it was frustration at being so useless. Or it could have been desperation. In the end it didn't matter. He found the other man's consciousness. Felt the energy of his mind. It flowed through his incorporeal grasp like a gentle breeze.
He gripped it and tore it from the man.
The Orange Hound member's grip dropped away. His whole body dropped away. The gang member slumped to the ground, his eyes wide and blank.
Nolan had done something no one else in history had ever done before.
He had used his magic as a Thaljori to kill.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Hide and Seek
The reality of what Nolan had done rocked him more than any of the blows he had received.
He had taken a life.
He had taken a life using his magic.
Nolan stood there, in his cell, with the door to his freedom sitting wide open. He couldn't move. He could barely breathe.
When creating Vilathos, accidents could happen with deadly results. He had lost people before in the dangerous process. Some people had died, others had lost their minds, and some had even been lostin their minds. But those people knew the risks, knew a variety of things could go wrong. Nolan always felt bad for the man or woman when it happened, and he tried his hardest not to let it happen, but sometimes things were out of his control. He had never dwelt on the lives that had been lost during the process.
But this was different. He had deliberately reached out and tore apart the man's mind.
A churning started in his stomach. Moved up to his throat.
"By the gods..." he managed to get out before bending over and throwing up on the floor.
With his stomach emptied and his body still sore from the beating he had received, Nolan tried to stand. Dizziness washed over him. He stumbled to the side, his shoulder slamming into the wall. The new pain mixed with the old.
"What have I done..."
All of the temples in Lurthalan saw the taking of life as an executable offense. Taking a life through the use of magic warranted an even worse punishment, although he had no idea what was worse than death. The law just stated the punishment was worse and anyone accused disappeared soon after. He could claim self-defense, but the laws written down by the temples applied differently when magic was involved. And as far as he knew, he was the first ever to use his type of magic to kill. Would they have to create new laws because of him?
But that was the future. He needed to focus on the here and now.
Ezzy and Shayua. They needed him.
"Focus."
Nolan was surprised to find that just that one word snapped his mind back into the present. It was more than that though. That haze that so often tried to cloud his thoughts was gone. He felt energized as well, sore of course, but energized. Had something happened when he had killed the man?
"Get moving," he whispered to himself.
He was out the door and glancing around in a heartbeat, despite his bad knee. The hallway ran straight ahead and a side hallway went to his left. Down either direction, doors similar to the one that had kept him caged sat closed. Nolan was about to call out for his companions but thought better of it. No one knew he was free. It could be a while before anyone even came down to check on them. Best not to waste that advantage.
So, which way?
Ezzy would be kept as deep into this place as possible. That idea made him choose to go left. There was only one door in sight in this direction, and he moved toward it and pushed.
It didn't budge.
Of course, it's going to be locked, you fool.
Moving as quiet as he could, Nolan returned to his own cell. He needed the keys the man he killed carried, but that meant he had to look at the man he had killed.
The body lay in the same spot where it had fallen. His legs were folded up beneath his body and his arms were splayed out at weird angles. Trickles of blood dripped out of his ears and nose. The worst thing was his eyes. They had turned a crimson red. Even with the pupils gone, the lifeless stare felt like an accusation.
Murderer. Butcher. Killer.
It took him a moment, but Nolan pushed away the guilt. The man could have been all of those things and probably more. Who knows what he had done in the past, the people he had hurt? Nolan shouldn't feel bad about defending himself.
As he removed the keys from the guard's belt, a thumping sound down the hall startled him to attention. The keys fumbled to the floor with a clatter. Nolan silently cursed and froze in place, listening until he was confident that his clumsiness had gone unheard. Snatching up the keys, he left the room and returned to the solitary door down the hallway. The lock clicked open without a problem, allowing Nolan to push the door open and enter the room. A cell that mirrored his own greeted Nolan as he entered. It was completely empty except for one thing.
The prisoner inside.
Disappointment washed over Nolan. The prisoner rose as Nolan entered. The rags of what used to be a shirt and pants hung from his stocky build. Thinning black hair, matted with dirt, framed the face of a man that looked to be close to Nolan in age. Fear shone through the man's brown eyes and his lips trembled. He started to shake as Nolan took another step into the room, and he grasped his bound hands in front of his body.
"Quiet," Nolan whispered, raising his hands in a calming manner. "I'm not one of them. I was locked up as well but escaped."
"What do you take me for, a fool? A thin man like you taking down one of those thugs on your own? What game are you playing? Are you supposed to be the gentle approach after days of those others beating me silly? I'm too intelligent to fall for something so obvious."
"I don't have time for this."
Nolan turned his back on the man and walked out the door. Glancing to his left he noticed a passage and the beginning of a stairwell at the end of the hall he had missed before. Go up or search the other rooms down here? The choice was obvious to his focused mind. It only made sense that his companions would be down here as well. His captors wouldn't risk holding prisoners upstairs where they could call out or make a break for the front door. More likely than not, there were guards stationed at the top of the stairs as well. He would continue to search on this level. Stepping away from the room, he was about to move towards the first door on the left when a hand grabbed his arm.
"Let's say you are a prisoner like me," the stocky man said. "Shouldn't we be moving to those steps? The faster we can get out of here, the better in my opinion."
"I have other friends that I believe are being kept here."
"All the more reason to escape. It will be easier for just the two of us to sneak out of here. I'm pretty well known in the area, and I'm sure the Janpair family would swoop in here and get rid of these ruffians once they find out how I've been treated. They'll free your friends."
"I'm not leaving them here." Pulling his arm free, Nolan moved down the hall. The stocky man was quick to follow.
"This really is foolish. I don't know how you were lucky enough to get free, but there could be dozens of men stationed above us. Are you some kind of skilled warrior? You certainly don't look it, but I doubt you could take a dozen or so men. Unless you are an Elementalist? I'd even take a Sparkteller at this point."
"I'm a Thaljori."
"Ah, then you're just as useless as I am when it comes to a fight. I'm a Saniteal by the way. Iacane Brill, you might have heard of me."
Hunt for Justice Page 18