The Blood King’s Apprentice

by David Alastair Hayden

  Before Turesobei could stand, a spear thrown by Zaiporo shot over him. The Blood King stepped aside and the spear struck the wall. The hounds attacked and Turesobei lunged in with Sumada. A heartbeat later, Turesobei found himself flying backward with no clue what had happened. He struck the floor hard and the hounds landed beside him. He blacked out for a moment then woke with stars swimming in his vision. Pain arced through his back, along his ribs and into his chest. He gasped desperately for the air the fall had knocked out of him and curled up in pain. The hounds whimpered.

  Zaiporo crouched beside him. “You okay?”

  Turesobei reached out, trying to find his sword. “Sumada….”

  “He has it, though I’m not sure how he took it from you. There was a flash of movement and then you went flying.”

  “Shoma?” he asked, worried.

  Zaiporo gestured toward the back of the chamber where Enashoma huddled in the corner beside Kurine. Before he could ask, he spotted Iniru racing back up the staircase, matching her speed to Motekeru’s so they would get there at the same time. Lu Bei circled above, probably waiting to distract the Blood King at the right moment.

  “What do we do?”

  “Help me up…and get ready to rouse me.”

  Despite the difficulty he had breathing, Turesobei got up and began another quick-casting of the spell of heaven’s wrath. The first time, he had maybe tapped ten percent of the storm energy. This time he risked a lot more. He had to get it right. He wasn’t going to have many more chances. He unleashed the spell.

  Immediately, he fell into the dragon dream. He flew high above, soaring on wind currents without a care for what happened to the people far below.

  Zaiporo cut Turesobei’s hand, bringing him back to the horror of the real world.

  The lightning bolt had never reached the Blood King. The energy had stopped a foot in front of him and was now formed into a crackling ball of lightning that hovered in place. Zaiporo helped Turesobei back up onto his feet.

  As Lu Bei dove in, the Blood King spoke a word. Before Lu Bei could spark him in the face, the fetch reverted back into his book form and fell onto the dais.

  The orb of electricity split in two and fired out at Motekeru and Iniru. The blast struck Motekeru and knocked him down the steps. He clattered to the bottom, his wooden body smoking. Iniru somersaulted backwards through the air. She hit the floor with a sickening crunch. Smoke rose from a simmering crater burned deep into her stomach. Her head lolled to the side. Her eyes were open…and lifeless.

  “Niru!” Turesobei screamed over the reverberating echoes of thunder. Terror-induced adrenaline drove the spell fatigue from his mind. He sprinted toward her.

  Before he reached her side, the horrible scent of burning fur and flesh assaulted him. But what he saw was worse, far worse. Bile rose into his throat and he threw a hand over his mouth.

  The lightning blast—his blast reflected—had burned all the way to the white bone of her spine.

  Iniru was dead.

  Chapter Five

  A primal anger surged up from within Turesobei like a volcanic explosion. There was nothing left but to become the Storm Dragon. He would protect Enashoma and avenge Iniru. The Blood King would pay for what he’d done.

  Turesobei tapped into the Mark of the Storm Dragon and opened the channel all the way. He didn’t care anymore whether his identity survived. Iniru was dead. Kurine as good as. And there was no other way to challenge the Blood King.

  Lightning speared down from the ceiling. It struck Turesobei but didn’t harm him.

  A smaller bolt jolted a staggering Lu Bei, who had just returned from his book form. The fetch screamed like a teakettle. His face elongated into a snout. His body stretched out to the length of a man. His wings swept wide. His claws grew long. Lu Bei transformed into a miniature Storm Dragon.

  Turesobei rapidly underwent a more dramatic transformation. A dark cloud containing the power of an entire storm poured out from his chest. But instead of growing to the size of a full storm, the cloud condensed into the shape of a dragon twice Turesobei’s height and six times his length. Over a fanged snout formed blazing eyes. From his forehead sprouted antlers of electric fire. Wings of cloud unfurled. Sparking claws and a tail flared to life.

  Turesobei floated up into the center of the dragon’s mass and automatically curled up into a fetal position. His physical body became the heart of the Storm Dragon and out from him sparked electrical currents like blood flowing through veins. His natural senses shut down. He now saw only what the dragon saw, heard only what the dragon heard and felt only what the dragon felt.

  He snapped his wings and roared. The first time he’d become the Storm Dragon, he had been tempted to fly away, as if the battle were of no concern to him. He’d had to focus his anger on his enemies to stay and help his companions. This time his anger needed neither focusing nor directing.

  As Storm Dragon Lu Bei shot off from the dais to the back of the chamber, Turesobei opened his mouth and breathed a jet of electric fire. The blast knocked the Blood King against the back wall and cracked the jade throne. Turesobei kept blasting him until he had to take in a breath. Then he rocketed up toward the Blood King. With his claws he would rip him to shreds and then he would burn the Kaiaru’s corpse to ashes.

  But before he got there, the Blood King spoke a word of power and a pulse of white light assaulted the Storm Dragon.

  Chapter Six

  Confused, Turesobei awoke in his body. The Storm Dragon was gone. He found himself lying on one of the steps halfway up to the dais. He struggled to breathe. His head and body burned as if from a severe fever and it felt as if every inch of him had been bruised. He was so exhausted that despite the danger he was in he could barely keep his eyes open.

  With Fangthorn and Sumada still in his hands, the Blood King loomed over him. A bruise darkened his neck, his bottom lip was busted and he had a scratch on one cheek.

  “Are you done, Chonda Turesobei? Or must I show you what happens when I unleash my full power?”

  The Blood King’s scant injuries faded away.

  Turesobei tried to sit up but only managed to get halfway. Nearby, pages fluttered and an ancient book turned into a swirling cloud that condensed into Lu Bei in his regular form. The fetch rubbed his head and groaned.

  Turesobei drew a knife from his boot and lunged at the Blood King, who sidestepped the clumsy attack. His eyes flared crimson.

  “A knife? A common knife? It took twenty-seven Kaiaru, Hannya, their spirit beast allies and an army of thousands to imprison me. Yet you think you can kill me with a knife?”

  “You had…help,” Turesobei gasped.

  “Naruwakiru and a minuscule army of my own, yes.” The Blood King sighed and his eyes turned pale blue. “You are brave, loyal and strong. You are powerful. Those traits can carry you far. But there are limits for everyone, even me. That is why I need your help.”

  Turesobei tried to cast a spell. It might be futile, but he planned to keep fighting until he won…or died.

  Lu Bei fluttered over and put a hand on his shoulder. “Master, you can’t win this. It’s over. Besides, if you cast another spell you could die. And then what would happen to Lady Shoma?”

  The fetch was right. He couldn’t die as long as any of his companions lived. He set the knife down. “I surrender.”

  “A wise decision,” the Blood King said. “Now, how about a good faith gesture on my part?”

  He strolled down the steps toward Iniru. Zaiporo, who stood in his way, bravely held his ground and didn’t step aside.

  The Blood King nodded appreciatively. “You are indeed a brave group, and I can see that you have faced many terrible dangers already. I admire your strength. Zaiporo, yes?”

  Zaiporo nodded.

  “Here, take these.” The Blood King handed Fangthorn and Sumada over to Zaiporo. He took them with an utterly confused look on his face. “And do yourself the favor of not trying to hit me with them.”

/>   Zaiporo hesitated a moment then backed away.

  Crying, Enashoma huddled over Iniru. Turesobei could hardly bear to look. He had lost his dad on his first adventure away from home. The hole this would leave in his heart was going to be ten times bigger than that one.

  “Step aside,” the Blood King said.

  Enashoma hesitantly moved away. From out of nowhere, a spell strip appeared in the Blood King’s fingers. Like those that Turesobei made, it was the length of his hand and half as wide. Unlike the ones Turesobei used, this one was made entirely from a thin sheet of what appeared to be bronze. Instead of Zhura ink marking the glyphs of the spell, the symbols and characters were etched into the metal.

  The Blood King knelt beside Iniru, held his hand over the charred wound in her stomach and chanted a spell so powerful that the hair on Turesobei’s arms and head rose. His mind went fuzzy as massive waves of kenja rushed into and through the room. After a minute of chanting, the metal spell strip glowed and the spell activated.

  A sparkling crimson cloud formed around Iniru and she rose into the air. Bright yellow sparks arced through the cloud. Long, tense minutes passed during which no one spoke. All they could do was wonder and hope.

  The Blood King closed his eyes and furrowed his brow. He spoke a word so powerful everyone in the chamber, even Hannya, fell to their knees, overcome by vertigo.

  Iniru’s body floated back to the ground and the crimson cloud vanished. Newly formed flesh, muscle and skin had replaced the hole in her stomach. The fur was gone, but hopefully it would grow back and cover the nasty scar that remained.

  Iniru flailed in spasms as she gasped desperately for air. Her eyes fluttered open and stared at the Blood King. As she caught her breath, the spasms faded. Amazed at the power the Blood King could wield, Turesobei stood, gaping at her. No Kaiaru had ever had the power to resurrect the dead. It was, or should have been, impossible. Turesobei didn’t know how to respond because he simply couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  Iniru blinked her dazzling amber eyes. “I take it we lost.” She was trying to be cool and calm but she was trembling violently.

  “Yes,” the Blood King said. “Consider the nasty scar that will remain on you forever as my signature, so you can remember—so you all can remember—my power to destroy and heal.”

  “I was dead,” she said in a hollow voice. “I don’t remember dying but I remember being dead. I…I was in….” Tears filled her eyes.

  “Do not expect another chance at life,” the Blood King said. “Even I cannot bring someone back a second time. At least not, without them being far less than what they were before. And I must warn you that should you live out your years peacefully, you probably will not see as many of them as you might have hoped. You suffered a lot of permanent internal damage.”

  “Like when a wizard drains all his energy into a spell?” she asked.

  “Like that, but worse.”

  The Blood King’s metal spell strip hadn’t been burned away like one of bamboo. He flicked his fingers and it disappeared. As soon as he stepped away, Enashoma rushed over to Iniru and hugged her. Iniru’s eyes found Turesobei’s. He smiled. Their situation was still dire, but relief spread through him. Iniru was alive. He wanted to run to her but he could barely stay awake.

  Motekeru creaked, clanked and clattered to his feet. Turesobei had seen Motekeru’s strength matched in battle, before but he’d never seen anything stun him. Dozens of new dents and scratches marred his body and Turesobei’s reflected lightning blast had left scorch marks on his chest plate.

  “Master, should I fight on?”

  “Stand down,” Turesobei said. “It’s over.”

  Turesobei made it down three steps before he had to sit. Hannya sauntered past him. She gave him a look that he was pretty sure meant, “I told you so.”

  “How could you betray us?” Turesobei asked.

  “I told you only what I wanted you to know. You were a foolish boy to trust a dragon’s word and let her out of the sword she was bound into.”

  Hannya stood beside the Blood King, her head bowed subserviently. The Blood King cast the spell of summer healing and an enormous golden cloud formed overhead and drifted down onto everyone.

  The magic released the aches and tension in Turesobei’s muscles. His cuts, scratches and bruises faded away. His dizziness and the ringing in his ears vanished. And he felt as if he’d had several hours of rest. The spell healed everyone, and it even made Motekeru’s newest dents, scratches and burn marks fade, though for some reason, Motekeru looked displeased about that.

  Turesobei suddenly realized, perhaps because his head had cleared, that the spell had missed someone. The ropes that had bound Awasa lay torn on the floor.

  “Awasa!” He glanced around but couldn’t find her. “Has anyone seen her?”

  “She escaped during the fight,” Hannya said. “She will not get far. She cannot work the gates and the Nexus is small.”

  The Blood King made no comment. Apparently, Awasa didn’t concern him. And why should she? The best Turesobei could do in his dragon form was rough him up. The Blood King was unbeatable. He might know everything that went on in his realm. He might know precisely where Awasa was at this moment.

  Turesobei walked down the steps. Iniru stood. She had a strange, distant look on her face. He touched her shoulder gently. “You okay?”

  As if suddenly awake, she rushed into his arms and clung to him. “Sobei….”

  “How touching,” the Blood King said. “Shall we return to business?”

  “What do you want?” Turesobei hissed through clenched teeth.

  “You know what I want.”

  “I may not be able to defeat you, but I won’t help you, either. I refuse to do anything that might help you break free. It’s not going to happen.”

  The Blood King groaned. His eyes shifted to orange. “You are a tiring, stubborn boy. You should not be so stupid as well.” Another bronze spell strip appeared in his hand and he spoke an activation command.

  Chapter Seven

  A pulse of energy knocked them flat.

  First came total darkness. Then maddening screams and the baying of demon hounds invaded Turesobei’s mind. As if crushed by a giant hand, his bones snapped. All the air left the room and he gasped desperately for breath. Suddenly, he tumbled head over heels at tremendous speed. He needed to throw up but couldn’t. A wave of flames struck him and his skin peeled up. He kicked and thrashed. He tried to beg for death, but the words wouldn’t come.

  The sensations ended abruptly and Turesobei found himself lying in the throne room—gasping for air and bruised all over. Blood trickled out from his nose and his throat was raw, as if he’d been screaming. Otherwise, he was perfectly okay. How could he possibly still be alive after all that? The lack of oxygen alone should have killed him.

  Then he noticed the crying and wailing of the others.

  He sat up and glanced around. Beside him, Iniru writhed and moaned while Zaiporo and Enashoma flailed and screamed. Unaffected, Lu Bei tried to comfort Enashoma. The amber hounds cowered in a far corner of the room. Magically conjured chains imprisoned Motekeru, who must’ve been on his way to attack the Blood King. Turesobei tried to stand, but found that he too was bound in chains.

  The orange-eyed Blood King loomed over him. “Now that you have had a taste of the torture I can put you through,” he teased with a wicked smile creasing his face, “take a few moments to observe how your companions fare and reconsider your options.”

  Turesobei shouted curses at the Blood King, who simply ignored him and walked over to speak with Hannya, huddled over Kurine. They conversed so quietly that Turesobei couldn’t hear them. The Blood King held his hand over Kurine and closed his eyes. He cast a spell then nodded with satisfaction.

  Turesobei opened his kenja-sight and studied the tendrils of energy binding the torture spell to his companions. Even if the Blood King wasn’t there to stop him, it would take Turesobei hours of cou
nter casting to unravel the spell.

  His eyes now a pale green, the Blood King returned. After a languid sigh, he waved a hand. The chains binding Motekeru and Turesobei disappeared, and the torture spell ended. Turesobei’s companions stopped thrashing and curled up, gasping for breath. They looked about in confusion, not having realized that it wasn’t actual physical pain they were experiencing.

  “The alternative to working with me,” the Blood King said, “is that I continue to torture your companions every few hours, every day, until they go mad or you become my apprentice.” His eyes shifted to orange and he smiled deviously. “And be assured, there are tortures more creative than simply causing pain. I find a mix of alternating tortures works best. And if need be, I can get physical with my methods.”

  Zaiporo, strong and brave, wrapped his arms around his knees and rocked back and forth crying silently. Enashoma curled up into a mewling ball by his side. Even Iniru, who was rarely fazed by anything, sobbed uncontrollably.

  Lu Bei, who was trying to console Enashoma, looked pleadingly to Turesobei. “Master….”

  He and his friends would suffer terribly until the Blood King got what he wanted. But maybe that would be better than unleashing the Blood King to bring death and suffering to thousands of people, maybe millions. Assuming the pain didn’t eventually weaken Turesobei’s willpower to the point where he gave in.

  “I can see that you are wavering,” the Blood King said. “I will add one more piece to our bargain. In a show of good faith, and with Hannya’s help, I shall attempt to restore your other girlfriend…the goronku one.”

  “I thought you couldn’t do that,” Turesobei said.

  “Since the venom came from a demon, Hannya knows a way to remove it. The process of restoring her will not be easy, and it will take several weeks, but I think it can be done. I cannot, however, guarantee the results.”