A Rising Storm (Tainted Blood Book 4)

by Jeff Gunzel

  “No.”

  Orm’rak spun back. “What did you say?” he asked, his eyes scanning across the group. This defiance was nothing short of mutiny as far as he was concerned. “Who...said...that?” he demanded, each spoken word a threat all its own.

  “We won’t do it.” Head jerking down, he zeroed in on a girl sitting near his feet. It was not the same voice as before, but that no longer mattered. It was clear they were all traitors. “We are grateful for everything that you’ve done for us, but this was not part of the bargain. Maybe you’re right. Maybe the humans do hate us. Perhaps we’re naive to believe that someday we might all live together in peace. But that is still our wish, and we’re not going to do anything to jeopardize it. As far as we’re concerned, this attack is meant to serve your own interests. Go kill more humans if you wish, but we want no part of it.”

  In a movement so sudden their eyes hardly registered it, Orm’rak snatched the girl up off the ground and held her face up to his. It was everything he could do not to run her head right through the stone wall. Eyes wide, she trembled with fear as she hung from his hands, feet up off the floor. He wanted to tear her in half like a piece of paper, but through intense will alone he managed to stay controlled. Like always, his decisions were driven by seeing the bigger picture, not by his emotions, no matter how tempting it could be at times. Killing her, or any of these other traitors, would only place doubt in the minds of the others. He simply could not risk jeopardizing their loyalty.

  “Bah,” he grunted, throwing her back to the ground. Not a single one of these traitors would look at him, yet he could feel the eyes of the others watching from behind. He turned and snapped his fingers, signaling for the rest to start preparing for the invasion, then returned his attention to the traitors. Once he heard the busy shuffling begin, he continued. “Those men and women represent your race with bravery and valor while you all stay behind like a pack of cowards. Traitors, all of you!”

  He turned his back to them in disgust. “When we return from our glorious victory, you will be gone. Live with the mountain goats, find yourselves a human and become their pet, I don’t care. Just be gone. If any of you are still here when we return, mark my words, your lives will not be spared.” With that, he marched away to help the others prepare.

  * * *

  Thundering across the open countryside, Xavier thumped his heels against his horse’s ribs while trying to get everything his horse had to offer before it dropped from exhaustion. Seeing the mountains off in the distance, relief washed over him. He had finally found what he was looking for. They were still a ways off, but at least he knew that the bulk of the journey had been covered. She was up there somewhere, so now it was just a matter of time. He slowed his horse, stroking its neck in a caring, comforting fashion. No sense in pushing the animal so hard when it would need all its remaining strength to climb.

  “We did it,” he said, speaking to both himself and his horse. “I knew we could make it.” Exhausted, he leaned down across its soft mane as it trotted along at a steady pace. A strong, sturdy beast it was. When Xylia assured him it was one of Darkwell’s finest, he now believed she was telling the truth.

  “She is up there somewhere, you know,” he whispered, eyes closed as he pointed at the mountains. Now he was speaking directly to his horse and nearly falling asleep in the process. “I really think you’ll like her. She has a heart of gold and a smile that could bring even the strongest man to his knees.”

  Even in his weary state, Xavier knew he must look like quite a fool talking to his horse, but he didn’t care. There was no one around for miles to laugh at him, and he had to admit that it felt good to speak his true feelings out loud to someone, anyone. Feeling himself drift off, he stroked the horse’s neck one last time, his breaths coming deep and slow. “Oh, how I miss her,” he mumbled before being swept away into a deep sleep.

  Sometime later, Xavier was roused by some kind of disturbance. His eyes fluttered open and he slowly sat up, luckily still on the back of his horse. In a groggy state, he wasn’t sure if he had dreamed something or possibly heard a sound. Thunder, perhaps? The sky did look rather gloomy up ahead. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he squinted towards the mountains. They were still a ways off, but there looked to be some sort of storm brewing just ahead. A sand storm? No, it was too confined to be that. What, then?

  Watching the dust rise straight up in a most unnatural fashion, Xavier’s instincts warned him of danger. Even not knowing what it was, he somehow knew he needed to move off the path immediately. With an urgent snap of the reins, he galloped towards a trio of boulders off the path, two small with a much larger one at the center. He knew he was going to feel silly when a dust devil or two blew past, but he still couldn’t fight the feeling that it might be something else.

  Xavier hopped off his mount and wedged the ends of the reins between the second and third stones. With his horse secure in case it got spooked and tried to bolt, he peeked around the edge of the first boulder. Whatever this storm was, it was coming up fast, but the air was strangely calm for some reason. Billows of dust coiled up from the disturbance, making Xavier even more nervous. Storms didn’t behave like this. Jerky movements at its base appeared to be a combination of running men and mini tornados.

  “What in the—” Xavier gasped, unable to tear his eyes away from the spectacle. There was only one species he knew of who could shift between such forms. Moving towards him at impossible speeds, the lerwicks were suddenly everywhere. Black funnels whirled down the path, shifting back into humanoid form as other shifted into funnels. They weaved in and out, dashing between each other, their blurring movements kicking up dust and debris.

  The caws of black birds and the rush of air meshed together to form a whooshing sound, yet not a single boot could be heard. It was as if their feet weren’t even touching the ground. There had to be hundreds of them, ripping up the landscape in a distorted haze of destruction. Xavier’s horse began to whinny and buck, clearly spooked by the presence even though he couldn’t see them on the other side of the boulder.

  “Shh, shh,” Xavier hushed, trying to calm the animal while stroking its neck. “Please,” he hissed in the horse’s hear, one arm hugging its neck. He pulled out a dagger and pressed it beneath the horse’s throat as it continued to snort and tug. “Please don’t make me do this. I’m begging you, please be quiet.” Making soothing sounds, he rolled his forehead back and forth against the side of its neck. They would both surely die if it gave up their hidden location. If he couldn’t quiet it down, he would give it a quick death. As much as he hated the thought, he knew there was no other option.

  But after a last snort or two, the animal calmed down, nestling its nose against Xavier’s chest. Clinging to its neck, Xavier continued to coo like one might talk to an infant. The sounds of cawing birds grew distant. Soon, all was quiet once more. Letting go of his horse, Xavier risked a peek around the side of the boulder. Nothing... It was as if they were never even here. Stepping out further, he could see the path of rising dust far off in the distance now. It was incredible how fast they were moving.

  Falling to his knees, Xavier dropped his head down into his hands and began to shake. He had fought countless monsters at Owen’s side, but never had he seen anything like that. Of course he knew about Viola and her brother, but he could have never guessed there were so many of them! Covered in sweat, shaking like a leaf, he tried to regain control of himself. Feeling a nudge on the back of his neck, he reached back to pet the horse nuzzling against him. He couldn’t be sure, but it seemed as if the animal were trying to comfort him this time.

  “You’re all right,” Xavier said to himself, rising up to his feet. The shock was wearing off and his strength was returning. A part of him wanted to believe that he had just imagined it, that it was all some dark illusion. But he knew that wasn’t so. He’d just seen a legion of lerwicks! “We have to hurry. We must find her.” He hopped up on his horse with a renewed sense of urgency an
d was ready to streak away.

  Suddenly, a hawk screeched, drawing his attention back to the boulders. Perched on top of the center stone, it watched him curiously. Had it been there the whole time? How had such a chilling sight not scared it away? It screeched again, blinking, staring at him with a sideways glance. “Let’s go,” Xavier said, turning around and snapping the reins. Off they galloped with breakneck speed. He wanted to get as far away from here as possible.

  The hawk stayed perched on the boulder a moment longer, its eyes frosting over in a flash of white. Then, with an earsplitting screech, it spread its wings and soared into the air. Darting over tree tops, across valleys and grass plains, it sped along, cutting the air like a knife. Driven by need, it pushed itself far beyond its normal limits. Sleep, food, and water were luxuries it could not afford. The hawk was on a mission, although it really didn’t know why.

  After a time, dead rocky terrain was all that could be seen. Even high in the sky the air had become acrid and thick as smoke billowed up from the smoldering volcano down below. It didn’t know why it was here in these dead lands, only that it needed to be.

  At one point in its journey, it had traveled high up in the mountains, then down into the grassy plains near the foothills. Watching, observing, and now it was time for its journey to end. With exhausted wings already shedding feathers, it dove down towards the volcano through toxic fumes and salty ash. It flew through the dark entrance, then collapsed near a pair of pasty white feet.

  The ghatin scooped up the sickly bird and held its head up to his forehead. In a flicker of color, light and blurred images, a flood of information transported into his mind. Everything the hawk had seen, he was now aware of. Everything it knew, he knew. With its forced purpose fulfilled, the dying bird let go. After taking a final breath, its eyes closed, body going limp. Dropping the dead bird, the ghatin whirled around to face its brothers. His wild pink eyes danced with awe at what it had learned.

  How was this even possible? For so long they had hunted the lerwick, knowing that spilling her tainted blood within this cavern would release the energy needed to shatter the curse. She was unique, a single mutant sentenced to walk this world alone. The key to their freedom! Her death would be a mercy from her lonely life of solitude. But it wasn’t so. There were more of them! Scattered throughout the realm at first, they had eventually gathered up in the mountains. And now a number of them were marching on the human city.

  “What is it?” one of the ghatins asked, seeing the shocked look on the other’s face. “Has it found her?”

  The first ghatin looked up, his lipless mouth splitting his face in an impossibly wide grin. “Her location is no longer important,” he said, looking pleased with himself despite the cryptic message. “We do not need her.” Shocked mutterings that bordered on outrage echoed throughout the chamber. What madness was this? Of course they needed her. “Gather round and hear me. Soon we will be free if this timeless prison.”

  * * *

  Sitting forward in his chair, Narkural drummed his fingers along the desktop, his mind being pulled in a thousand directions at once. Even the air around him felt wrong somehow. Self-charged with keeping nature and all the world’s energy in perfect balance, for the first time he felt helpless, insignificant. How could he help balance a world he no longer understood? Were the gods playing some sort of joke on the realm?

  He could always demand that more nezzerians sacrifice themselves for the greater good. There was certainly no shortage of volunteers, so forcing them to take action was never necessary. The nezzerians’ whole purpose in life was to give themselves up to the balance. Whether it be by action or personal sacrifice was irrelevant, as long as they fully committed to the task. But in this case it didn’t feel as if it would help anything. An absorption of pain and suffering would do little to dissipate this tainted energy that had befallen on the realm. What was he to do about these abominations?

  The sound of footsteps prompted him to turn around. “News from our scouts,” said the man standing in the doorway, getting right to the point. He handed Narkural a parchment. Loosely rolled, it was obvious that the messenger had already read it, his expression one of controlled shock, unheard of for the nearly emotionless race. He waited further instruction as Narkural took his time reading it.

  “That will be all,” Narkural said, rerolling the note and tossing it on top of his desk.

  “Sir?” the nezzerian questioned, surprised by his leader’s low-key reaction to the news.

  Narkural turned and looked him in the eyes. “Dismissed,” he said, confirming that the conversation was indeed over. The messenger dared to open his mouth again, but thought better of it immediately. With a nod he turned and hurried away. Narkural sighed and sank down in his seat. The room seemed more quiet than usual, emotionless, like a void of silence had just soaked up all the room’s energy. All he could hear was the hissing of the lit candle on his desk each time the flame licked the melted wax.

  After a few moments he hauled himself up from his seat, deciding it might be best to go get some air.

  Wandering through the village, he could actually feel the stares burrowing into the back of his head. But each time he looked back, nezzerians quickly averted their eyes. They resumed their chores of chopping wood and working leather as if nothing were wrong. He knew that word had already spread by now. His people were waiting, wondering what he was going to do.

  He made his way up to the front gate. Crossing his arms and leaning against the frame, he looked out into the dark forest. It seemed lifeless tonight, as if the whole world were silently on edge. Torches around him flickered and fizzed, yet they seemed like the only sound for miles around. What to do? he thought. His mind raced, pondering all the possibilities. It was all so hard to accept, but he could no longer deny the reality of what was happening.

  Not only had the lerwicks been awakened by some unknown force, but they were marching against one of the human cities at this very moment. How could he possibly account for so much tainted energy at one time? The balance would soon be in chaos, and there was little he could do to stop it. The nezzerians could march and intercept them before they reached the humans. Stout giants who could be quite dangerous when they needed to be, the nezzerians would undoubtedly prove to be more than formidable to these shadowy creatures. But that wasn’t a clear solution as far as he could tell. The nezzerians weren’t about choosing sides.

  What if... Narkural shuddered, the first visible emotion he had displayed since learning what was happening. What if the lerwicks were not actually outside of the pattern as he first suspected? What if their energy was already in tune with the world? If so, wiping them out might actually do more harm than good.

  “Sir,” came a voice from behind. Ignoring the man, Narkural kept his focus on the silent forest. “Narkural, everyone knows what is happening.” There was no reason to specify what he was talking about. All within twenty minutes, the lerwicks’ march had become the worst-kept secret in the nezzerian village. “Sir, we must not stand by and let these abominations roam free. We await your orders.”

  “Stand down,” Narkural replied in his usual slow rumble. “Let both the lerwicks and humans fend for themselves. We will not get involved.”

  “B-But…” the man stuttered in dismay, not even sure how to respond. “But it is our duty to defend the balance. What you are proposing is to let chaos sweep though our realm. We cannot stand by and do nothing!”

  “Can’t we?” Narkural questioned, his voice soft, distant and disinterested. He had already come to terms with this new reality. “How can we possibly decide who takes priority in a matter such as this?” The nezzerian tried to give what he believed to be the obvious answer, but Narkural spoke right over him. “Are both races not abominations in their own rights? Do you not think there might be a reason for the lerwicks’ return?”

  “But they are perversions of nature,” the nezzerian stated plainly, as if there were no other way to look at the situa
tion.

  “They are indeed,” Narkural was quick to agree. “Their very life force is tainted. They should not exist at all.” He turned back to look at the man for the first time. “And yet...they do exist. The humans, on the other hand, have existed for as long as we’ve kept records. Is Ayrith any better off for it?” The man said nothing in reply. He knew full well how destructive the humans had been to themselves as well as other races. They may indeed be part of the pattern, but who could ever believe the realm hadn’t paid a price for it?

  “They might be trying to tell us something,” Narkural said, pointing up to the sky. “Perhaps the gods themselves have sent those creatures back to rebalance the system, to finish the job where we have failed. If the humans are indeed their natural enemies, then I think we must consider all possibilities before we act.” He turned back around to gaze at the silent forest. “For now, we bear witness to the change, but will not interfere until I say so. So again, I say stand down. Those are my orders.”

  The man just stood there for a time, weighing the words of his leader. “Yes, sir,” he confirmed at length, his soft voice just a wisp of an acknowledgment. After another pause, Narkural heard the crunch of dry leaves as his steps faded away.

  Chapter 13

  Assirra eyed a large rat peeking through the bars of her cell, sniffing, whiskers twitching. It smelled the treasure trove of rotted food crusted onto the stack of trays piled up in the corner. Each day she was given a serving of scraps, but the empty tray was never taken away when she was finished. Tentative, the rat inched its way towards the rancid treat, stopping every now and then to twitch its nose at her, trying to determine if she was a threat or not.