The Witch's Eye

by Steven Montano

  Cross looked back at the Lith woman and nodded. She unsheathed a black dagger – a Necroblade, Cross realized – and threw it point down into the center of the eye. She narrowed her gaze.

  “They’re back!” Flint said.

  The Lith scouts emerged from the city pulling a broken door behind them with a length of rope, using it like a sled. Cross saw clothing, bags of dried food, canteens and knives piled neatly on the wood. In just an hour they’d procured quite a haul of salvage.

  One of the Lith broke off, grabbed the camel and the two packhorses, and started rearranging the goods. They meant to give the pack creatures and new supplies to their human guests.

  The Lith woman’s mouthless face was cool and calm. She looked at something behind Cross. He turned, at first thinking her gaze had gone to something in the wastelands, but then realized her eyes had fallen on Soulrazor/Avenger where it was slung over his shoulder. He looked back at the blade in the eye.

  “Cross!” Flint yelled from the supply sled. “Water! They found lots of it!” He grabbed two canteens and started back, and Shiv met her father halfway.

  The Lith woman leaned forward and drew another shape in the dirt. This one took longer. Ice cold wind battered Dirge’s outer walls as she finished making an image of a spider. She pulled her dagger out of the dirt and plunged it back down into the insect’s body.

  A race of prophets, Cross thought.

  Cross remembered how the Lith named Sajai had directed him to the downed prison ship where he’d met both Danica and Mike. Had Sajai known about Azradayne?

  “Can I trust you?” he whispered. “I won’t walk into its trap again. I won’t go where she wants me to go.”

  The Lith didn’t move. She just pointed again at the knife in the spider, and at the eye.

  How can I know? he wondered. How can she?

  He saw Danica’s face.

  Ultimately it didn’t matter. If the spider was involved, he had to go. He had no other leads to follow.

  It was time to hunt.

  Within the hour Cross, Flint and Shiv were ready to leave with the Lith. The six-legged steeds moved faster than normal horses, and seemed unbothered by any type of terrain. A trio of scouts rode ahead, but the remaining Lith stayed close so Cross and the others could follow. Each of the men was given a horse, and they took turns having Shiv ride with them; whoever didn’t have her was responsible for leading the camel.

  They rode southeast, towards the western edge of Rimefang Loch. They were deep in vampire territory, and would have to keep a sharp lookout for trouble. Cross tried to think of a safe place nearby to take his human companions, but there was nothing. The nearest human settlement was Rhaine, several days travel back the way they came.

  Cross was under the impression that the Lith wanted to reach the Loch quickly, and at the angle they traveled they’d arrive at its shores in a couple of days. The frontline of the fighting took place day and night in naval battles out on those cold and unforgiving waters, and to make matters worse the Loch was home to the brutal Dracaj, as well as numerous bands of roaming pirates. To even reach the Rimefang they had to escape the Bone March and navigate around the Wormwood.

  The air was cold and dry. Dead hills peppered the horizon like shaved blades. They rode past cold drifts of black sand and pools of stagnant grey water.

  “Cross?” Flint asked after they’d ridden for about an hour. “Where are we going?”

  “I’m not entirely sure,” he said. “Towards the Loch, I think. But I’d like to find somewhere safe for the two of you."

  “And what about you?” Shiv asked from the back of Flint’s horse.

  Cross hesitated.

  “I have to find someone.”

  “Your team?” Shiv asked.

  Cross nodded.

  “I haven’t seen them for a very long time. I need to make sure they’re safe.”

  Shiv made like she was about to say something, but thought better of it.

  “What about our friends here?” Flint asked. “I wonder what they’re looking for.”

  “The same as me,” Cross said. “Before I was captured, one of the last things I remember is a member of my team...my friend...being captured. I think the Lith are looking for the creature who took her.”

  Flint gave Cross a worried look.

  “Does this have anything to do with the thing that destroyed the city, and the slavers?” Flint asked. “That…eye?”

  “I think so,” Cross said. He chewed on the words that hung unspoken in the air. “Listen…I won’t put either of you in danger,” he said. “As soon as we find someplace safe for you...”

  “Yes,” Flint said. “Well...we’ll just see how that all plays out, eh?”

  Cross wasn’t sure what else to say.

  FIFTEEN

  BROKEN

  Seven people traveled fast through the ice-wracked trees on the banks of the Nightblood River. They took few breaks and ate sparingly as they made their way north across frost-weighted sage brush and banks of crusted snow. Animal calls echoed all around them. They saw eyes in the darkness, wolves and owls and other nameless things that kept just out of sight.

  Ronan directed them northwest, towards Ath. They’d reach the Southern Claw city-state in another two days, provided they didn’t run into any trouble.

  The cold was intense. They stayed close to the river and used the trees to mask their movements. They had no reason to believe the Fanians were still actively pursuing them, but Ronan wasn’t about to take that risk, especially now that he’d found Danica.

  “Maur wishes to be there now…” the Gol said. The little man had been surprisingly complacent throughout the majority of the journey. It was in his nature to complain, so every now and again he did, as if to remind himself he was still there.

  “Don’t we all,” Reza echoed. Ronan was impressed with her resilience, especially considering the fact that two of her men had been brutally killed just a few hours ago and she was now desperately running for her life in the company of mercenaries, refugees and assassins.

  Danica moved in silence. She seemed content to follow Ronan’s lead, and that worried him. The vampires had brainwashed her, tried to make her into one of them. First the Revengers had physically transformed her and given her that bastard bloodsteel arm, and then the Ebon Cities had done something to her mind.

  But Ronan saw something in her eyes, a glint of recognition. They hadn’t wiped everything away. There was still something of Danica left.

  The question is how much...and if we’ll be able to find it.

  He remembered the shrine. Standing there at the base of the stairs, knowing what waited for him, knowing he was supposed to kill the closest thing to a brother he’d ever had. He’d measured the rest of his life as around that pivotal moment.

  “Here,” Creasy said. The warlock handed him a fig and a handful of berries.

  “Thanks,” he said. He wasn’t hungry, but he had to keep his strength up. He looked behind them. “We need to get Maur some food to mash up into that paste shit he eats.”

  “He said he’s taken of it,” Creasy said quietly. “He’s going to wait until we camp.”

  Creasy was soft-spoken, especially for a man as dangerous as he was. Ronan had seen Creasy’s magic in combat, and his spirit had kept them all warm in what were undoubtedly hypothermic conditions. The warlock was hopelessly awkward around people, Ronan noticed, even more than he himself was.

  That takes skill.

  Creasy’s woman, Tanya, proved to be just as much of an asset as the warlock himself. She was an experienced hunter and tracker, and when even Creasy seemed unsure if a certain plant was edible or if a patch of ground was safe to cross, Tanya knew. Her mother, Katya, was every bit as capable…Ronan was hard-pressed to believe the woman was pushing fifty, what with her muscular frame and steely eyes. She moved just as fast as the rest of them, sometimes faster, and while she deferred to her daughter on most matters she wasn’t shy about sharing her opi
nions when she felt she needed to.

  None of them trusted Danica. He didn’t blame them. He didn’t entirely trust her himself.

  They made camp as night fell. They’d been moving all day, but they were still a good distance out of Ath. Crylos and the rest of Talon Company were probably already there.

  Creasy and Tanya built a fire, and though the blaze gave them some much needed warmth the chill had set in hard around them. Still, Creasy had to give his spirit a rest from keeping seven people’s bodies warm – that had to be a taxing effort, and the longer the warlock kept it up the less power he’d have available if they got into another fight.

  When, Ronan thought bitterly. When we get into another fight.

  The flickering campfire seemed to float in the middle of a black sea. Shadows danced between the skeletal trees.

  Danica sat with the rest of them, but she kept quiet and stared into the flames.

  No one spoke much. They ate figs and MREs and drank water, while Maur mashed his food into paste with a mortar and bowl he’d acquired from the Talon Company chef. Ice flies buzzed around the fire. Everyone’s breath frosted out of their mouths.

  “Maur wants to know what the plan is,” the Gol said at last.

  “Yeah,” Reza added a moment.

  “I’m getting the three of us to safety,” Creasy said, indicating Tanya, Katya and himself.

  “We’ll help,” Ronan said with a nod.

  “You know what I’m talking about,” Reza said.

  “So do we,” Tanya said. They all looked at Danica.

  She looked back defiantly. Her eyes shone with the faint crimson hue of magic. The arm, that strange steel appendage that Ronan had originally mistaken for a piece of armor or a mage’s implement, sparkled in the firelight. It moved almost silently, as much a part of her as the rest of her body. Her spirit visibly curled along the surface of the red metal like mist rising from ice.

  “I belong to Lady Riven of the Ebon Cities, Viscountess of the armistice city-state of Lorn. My handler, Lynch, dispatched me to slay the Witchborn.”

  Ronan stared at her. Anger welled inside him.

  “Your name is Danica Black,” he said. “You used to be a warden in Black Scar prison...a Revenger. Now you’re a mercenary. You do work for the Southern Claw, fighting the vampires of the Ebon Cities.”

  She watched him as he spoke.

  “You seem familiar,” she said quietly. “You and the Gol.” She looked at Creasy. “You too…but not as much.” She looked back at Ronan. “I want to believe you. But I can’t remember.”

  “They’ve re-progammed you,” Creasy said.

  “They must have, if what you say is true,” she replied.

  “She used to work with you?” Reza asked. Ronan nodded. “That’s awesome,” she said with grim laughter. “Just terrific...”

  “What’s the problem?” Ronan asked with an edge to his voice. “She was my teammate for almost a year, and she served with Cross for over two. Whatever they did to her doesn’t change how many Southern Claw lives she’s saved and how many vampires she’s destroyed. We owe it to her to try to figure out what they did, and to undo it.”

  Reza stared at him angrily. Her white teeth were clenched.

  “Are you kidding?!” she said. Black looked at her with curiosity. Ronan had never seen her so calm. “She’s one of them now!”

  “My spirit notes a trace of Ebon Cities soul magic,” Creasy said quietly. “It wasn’t used to create that arm, but it was used it to control her mind…”

  “Then we undo it,” Ronan said coldly. “Like I said.”

  “You listen to me,” Reza said. “You are acting under military orders. That woman is a liability.”

  Ronan stood up, as did Reza.

  “Ronan…” Maur started, but he cut the Gol off.

  “What are you implying?” he said. He and Reza stood face to face.

  “She’s dangerous,” Reza said. “She needs to be taken into custody.”

  Ronan smiled.

  “Good luck with that,” he said. He looked at Maur, and then at Danica. She watched him calmly. “You go ahead and get back to your Company,” he told Reza. “Tell Crylos what happened, and tell him I’ll be in touch about the money owed to me and Maur.”

  Reza seemed at a loss.

  “You’re not coming back?” she asked.

  “No. I have a new job.” He looked at Danica. “I’m taking her home.” He looked at Maur. “You with me?”

  “Maur is with you,” the Gol said without hesitation.

  “You can’t do that…” Reza said, but Ronan turned away. “She might have valuable information…you can’t just take her with you!”

  “You want to try and stop me?” he said.

  “This is pointless,” Danica said. “I’m not going into custody, and I’m not going ‘home’. I’m going to Rimefang Loch. I have to destroy the Witch’s Eye.”

  Ronan, Reza and Creasy all looked at her.

  “What do you know about it?” Creasy said as he stood up. The fire crackled loudly and spilled flames into the darkness.

  “It’s a self-animated construct possessed of vast arcane power,” she explained. “A failed Ebon Cities’ experiment meant to grant the vampires true magic. The effects were nothing like they envisioned. Instead of granting vampires magic, the Eye corrupts their bodies from the inside out. Its power eats away at them and makes them hunger for the flesh of their own. Every vampire bitten by an infected is corrupted in turn. It spreads like a disease.

  “I need to root out the source of the Witchborn virus – the main fragment of the construct, the Witch’s Eye – and destroy it.”

  “Wait,” Reza said. “If it’s killing the vampires and turning them against one another…”

  “They still hunger for human flesh as well,” Danica said. “You saw what happened to Wolftown.”

  “Fane did that,” Creasy said. “They’re on the march.” He looked at Ronan. “They want the Eye. They want to use it against the vampires.”

  “And so do we,” Reza said. “Jesus, this is perfect. If she knows where it is…”

  “She is right here,” Danica said. Her voice turned cold. Ronan felt her spirit chill the air. “And she is going to destroy it.” She looked at Ronan. “I saw the ruins of Wolftown. The Bloodwolves came to feast on its remains, and they were feasted on in turn. The Witchborn destroyed them. They destroy everything. Their thirst for vampire flesh is not driven by hunger, but by a desire to increase their own numbers.” She took a breath. “It’s reproduction. The Witch’s Eye drives them to propagate.”

  “What does it want?” Ronan asked. “The Eye?”

  “To destroy,” she said. “The Ebon Cities created it to infuse vampires with arcane might. They strove to craft vampire warlocks and witches, to use our own most powerful weapon against us. It didn’t work, and the experiment took on a life of its own. It must release its energies, and spread them. I believe it’s building to a detonation of some sort. Its power swells. If it doesn’t release this power, it will die,” she said. “So it spreads. It grows. One becomes legion.”

  “How do you know all of this?” Creasy asked.

  She hesitated.

  “I know this because I destroyed one of its lesser fragments, and when it shattered I saw into its consciousness. Whatever the vampires did to me also enabled me to absorb the bulk of the information stored in the construct.” She looked at Ronan. “I’m sorry. The notion of ‘home’ sounds nice. And I want to remember you. I do.” She stood up. “But I can’t. I have to fulfill my purpose.”

  “Which sounds like our purpose,” he said. He looked at Reza. “Unless you somehow think an army of maniacal and magic-yielding vampire savages sounds like a good thing for the Southern Claw?”

  Reza tightened her mouth. The campfire thinned, and the howls of distant wolves stirred in the night.

  “We have to get word to Crylos,” Reza said.

  “The Eye is on an island in the mi
ddle of Rimefang Loch,” Danica said. She looked at Ronan. “That’s where it is now, but I don’t know how long it’ll stay there.” She broke her gaze and stared into the flames. Danica looked lost, and when her eyes moved back up and met Ronan’s again she was at the edge of tears. “I have to do this,” she said. “I don’t know if you can understand. But I have to go.”

  Ronan nodded.

  “It’s not an easy thing…being broken,” he said. “You have to hold what’s left of you together. You find a purpose. Pretty soon it’s all you have left.” He looked at the others. “I’m going with her. Creasy, I think you and your ladies should go with Reza.” He looked at Reza. “Get back to Crylos. Tell him what’s going on, and where we’re going.”

  “Maur is coming with you,” the Gol said. “You need someone with a level head at your side.”

  “And that means you?” Ronan said. “We’re fucked.” Gol threw a stick at him.

  “You’ll need a warlock, too,” Creasy said. Tanya looked at him. Her eyes were sad, but she nodded. Ronan could tell the news wasn’t unexpected. “I had a feeling I’d be traveling with you again,” Creasy said to Ronan.

  Ronan smiled.

  “Sorry about that.”

  Creasy shrugged. Tanya pulled him down to sit next to her.

  Danica walked away from the fire and to the edge of the trees. She looked out at the dark.

  Ronan looked at Reza.

  “Are we good?”

  She clearly wasn’t happy, but she nodded.

  “Yeah. We’re good. I’ll take those two with me at first light and head for Ath. You’ll be going northwest, I take it?”

  “Seems like it,” he said. He looked at Danica. “I hope you understand,” he said to Reza.

  Reza watched him for a moment.

  “No,” she said. “Not really. But I do understand she’s your friend, and that you want to help her.” She hugged herself to fight off the chill. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”