by Angie West
Chapter Eight
Lahuel
I halfway expected Mike to run after me. He didn't, and for this I was grateful. I don't know what I would have said to him if he had been foolish enough to follow me. As I walked through the dark forest on my way to the cabin, I remembered the look on his face when Mark told him I'd been the one to kill the coatyl. It had almost made it worth having to deal with him tonight, and right now I didn't particularly care if that sounded petty or small-minded.
A fine mist began to creep along the edge of the forest, close to the ground. Great, just what I needed, fog moving in for the walk home. Icy tendrils of fear played at the back of my neck, and it was no wonder. The soldier's news continued to weave a trail of discomfort through me. What in the hell was a life breather? Well, given that whatever else the things were, they were also running loose, I had the feeling I'd discover the answer to that question soon enough.
The forest was dark, more so than most nights. The tree canopy blocked out the moon here. The short walk to the cabin was safe enough, even at night. It wasn't anything I hadn't done a hundred times before.
But usually when I decided to take a stroll in the evening there weren't mutant coatyl-and worse-running around and lurking in places that I didn't even want to think about. If I thought about it I might be tempted to do something really stupid, like rush back to Claire's house. Sure, it might have been the sensible thing to do, but if I was ever going to have any chance at all of having Mike and people like him take me seriously, it wouldn't do to turn tail and run back to safety. Or, I should say, perceived safety.
Because as much as I or anyone else wanted to believe differently, truth was, Claire's house wasn't much safer than my own. The only difference between the two was the fence and we all knew that could go at any moment. Not that I wasn't grateful to have the protective barrier but, in recent weeks, more than one person had remarked on the oddity of Grandview's fence still being intact while the rest of the world pretty much "went to hell in a hand-basket" as Claire would say.
It was a lot like waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the ax to fall. It was probably safe to say Kahn was responsible for the zone failures around Terlain, although nobody seemed to know for certain.
Still, even without knowing this to be fact, it made sense. To say Kahn was capable of concocting such a scheme would have been the understatement of the century, and I had to admit it was a good strategy-if that's what he was going for. What better way to wreak complete havoc and destruction than to herd everyone into one place, then move in for the final kill.
It was just the sort of blunt-force planning the wizard was known for and was probably closer to the truth than anyone knew. And yet there was no getting around the fact that the Matrons had allowed this, all of this, to happen. The group of eight elders who had cast the original protective enchantment years ago were still incredibly powerful, but no one seemed to know why they had remained, thus far at least, absent and silent in the face of such devastation. Once, a long time ago, Mike had told me that everything happens for reason?
"You told the men not to teach me to fight." The accusation in my voice was mild, more perplexed than irate.
"Yes, I did," he said, shrugging as if to say, "so what."
"Why?"
"Because I forbid my men to help you do something foolish."
"Me learning how to defend myself is foolish?" I frowned.
"You fighting is foolish."
"Why?" When he didn't answer, I tried again. "I want you to train me."
"You want me to train you." He repeated my words slowly and carefully, dark eyes focused on me but completely unreadable.
I clasped my hands, knotting my fingers together and squeezing tight. I sucked in a deep breath through lungs that felt constricted and was momentarily light-headed when all I could manage were shallow sips of the cool evening air. "Yes." I finally nodded, eyes locking with his.
His mouth turned down in blatant disapproval and I rushed on without giving him the chance to refuse. "It wouldn't take up very much of your time. And I can learn. I'm feeling much better now and-"
"No." The word was clipped, authoritative. Final. He turned away from me, facing the crackling fire and bending to toss another fragrant piece of dry timber onto the dancing orange flames. The wood sparked and hissed before erupting in a quick flare. A minute later it settled down to a steady, toasty blaze in the pit Aranu had dug.
He'd said no. I closed my eyes, opened them to find myself still staring at his broad, tan back. He couldn't refuse. He just couldn't. "But-" I opened my mouth to protest his obvious, and rude, dismissal.
"Ari, the answer is no," he said without turning around.
"You have to. You owe it to me, to help me."
He did turn and face me then. I almost wished he hadn't. "I owe you? Saving your life wasn't enough?" His voice was quiet, dangerous.
My tongue flicked out to wet my lips. "No. No, that didn't come out right." My bare feet shifted in the dirt and I tried again. "I meant that men-warriors-have a duty to their people, don't they?"
"Yes." He shrugged, relaxing a little now.
"So, warriors have a duty to make sure that people can protect themselves."
"Makes sense." He nodded after a moment.
"So, you'll train me?" My eyes flew up to his.
"No."
"But, you don't understand." The words felt like they were torn from me. He wasn't going to help. Panic began to claw at me, and on the heels of that, a tiny spark of anger was beginning to simmer and burn.
"I understand," he fired back. "You want me to show you how to swing a blade, or shoot a bow, so you can go do something stupid and probably get yourself killed for the effort. The answer is no." His eyes narrowed.
"I have to be able to defend myself!"
"You want vengeance!"
"Wouldn't you?" I demanded hoarsely, abruptly realizing that my hands were now clenched into fists at my sides. "Answer that, Aranu. Tell me the truth. How would you feel?" My words bounced off the valley around us and echoed.
His expression softened a fraction. "Ari, listen to me. This isn't a good idea. If you'd stop for a second and think about what you're asking me to do, you would see that."
"I am not going to rush out and start massacring guards. Please." I forced back the anger, knowing that right now it wouldn't help my cause. "I need to know how to fight," I argued.
"If you stayed in the protected zones, you wouldn't have any need to fight!"
I recoiled, feeling like he'd slapped me. "Is that what you think, then?" I choked the words out and the bottom of my stomach seemed to drop as I looked up into his harsh face. "That it was my own fault?" I took a breath, turned my back on him. My arms tightened around my midsection and I stalked to the edge of the small clearing, closer to the cave's entrance. I wanted to crawl inside and never come out. A small part of me wanted to sleep and never wake up. I wanted to hit something. I wanted to?scream. Memories undulated through the darkest recesses of my mind. They played on a continuous, sickening loop, never really going away, just at times more noticeable than others. Being grabbed. Claire being kicked. The fear on the faces of the others. Would this go away? Ever? When?
Behind me, Aranu exhaled and swore. I spun around in time to see him coming toward me. He halted a few feet away and moved to reach for me and I held my breath as he stopped at the last minute, letting his arms drop to his sides. I stared back, but then let my eyes slide away from his intense scrutiny, afraid he could somehow see the pain and chaos that raged inside my head.
Aranu swore again, softly this time. "Is that what you thought I meant? That what those?things?did to you, was your fault?"
"Things?" I asked idly, still unable to look him in the eye.
"I refuse to call them men," he returned flatly. "Answer me. You think I'd actually tell you what happened was your own fault? That you deserved to be raped because you were in an unprotected zone of
the woods?"
I flinched away from the word, not ready to hear someone say it. Not yet.
"I would never say that, Ari. I would never think that."
"Fine." I finally shrugged. "It doesn't matter, anyway. I'll leave in the morning," I said, moving past him and walking back toward the fire. The flames leapt and crackled merrily above my outstretched hands. I felt Aranu's gaze on me the whole time, but I wasn't bluffing, I realized with something akin to shock. The thought of a trek through unprotected zones of the Lerna's Crossing forest?well, it made my blood run cold.
But he wasn't leaving me any other choice. I had to be able to defend myself and if he was refusing to teach me, and intended to make good on his threat to forbid his men from training me, too?then I was left with only one viable option. The sprites. The band of warrior women who made their home in the heart of Lerna's Crossing were the closest option I had, at this point. I knew the women would help me and best of all, they wouldn't require Aranu's blessing to do so.
Fingers bit sharply into my upper arm and I whirled on Aranu, still snared in his grasp. My startled gaze flew up to him, questioning, as I teetered on the edge of panic.
"You can't just leave. You aren't ready, not by a long shot. You almost died, Aries."
"I'm fine," I insisted, holding still and steady under his hand. "I need to be able to protect myself and if you won't help me, the sprites will. That's where I'll go. Thank you?for all your help," I stammered, uncomfortable as I recalled the way he'd saved me from the brink of death and spent countless hours nursing me back to health. I hated to just leave, knowing it must have seemed beyond ungrateful. But I had to think of myself. I had to get strong. I had to find Claire and make sure this never, ever happened again. "I have to do this, Aranu," I finished, softly now.
His gaze fell to where long, tanned fingers were still wrapped tight around my arm and abruptly he released his hold, dropping my arm as if it had just burned him. His expression was tense, unreadable. Then he spun around and his long strides ate up the distance between the fire and the cave. At the entrance, he paused.
"Training starts tomorrow at dawn," he said without turning around. He started to duck into the cave, stopped again. "Aries?"
"Y-yes?"
"I won't go easy on you. Be ready."
Abruptly, I brought myself back to the present. Everything happened for a reason; that used to be such a foreign concept for me-every action having this divine purpose-and mostly it still was, even if now I thought I may have at least understood it a little better than before. Or rather, I thought I understood how people could not only believe it to be true but also find comfort in it. Because, sure, everything happened for a reason. I mean, that much was obvious enough, right? Kahn killed innocent people because he was a low-down, murderous bastard. Action. Reason. End of story.
So, all of this chaos was a direct result of that one core fact. I paused on the trail that would take me the rest of the way home, picturing Lerna, not as it had been, but as it was now, a broken replica of the real thing. The reason for this entire damn war was all because of one man's demented idea of leadership, power, and a need to control. So much death. I closed my eyes in a silent prayer for the fallen ones, both new and old, and those yet to come, before taking a deep breath and continuing on the narrow, dirt trail. It was difficult to find much comfort at all in the phrase "everything happens for a reason."
Reasoning out the actions of the Matrons proved to be even more conflicting. As far as anyone in Terlain seemed to know, they had shown themselves only once in recent months. The group of eight had come to Mark and Claire's wedding, high in the ruins, in order to deliver both a blessing and a warning; it was there, high atop the mist-filled mountains, that they had cautioned Claire against the dangers of crossing between her world and ours. And while they weren't exactly forthcoming about what such consequences could potentially be, when the Matrons speak, people tend to listen.
In short, Claire was here to stay. And so was Mike. I had come full circle back to the heart of the matter, to the crux of my own problems. Silly, maybe, for Mike Roberts to even rate on my personal radar right now with so much other more pressing, immediate matters demanding my time and attention and skill. But anything that caused me to lose focus was a big deal. I couldn't afford even the slightest distraction. It was imperative I remain firmly planted in reality. In my reality, anyway, violent as it was.
My first obligation would always be to the people of Terlain, now. There wasn't any room left for Mike or anyone else, not in that capacity. Of course, knowing something to be true and fully accepting it are two very different things. I was very much afraid there was a part of me that would always be ruled by dumb bitch Aries. Well, my chin came up a notch, that was just too bad because she wasn't in charge.
I forced myself to put Mike and our convoluted history firmly out of mind as I picked my way carefully along the pebble-strewn path. The closer I got to the edge of the woods, the more substantial the mist became. I frowned, thinking that was strange since the fog was only on one side of the forest, especially odd considering that side was the one facing away from the water.
Sometimes, late at night, the thick gray wisps would roll off the water in vapor-waves. I quickened my pace. The cabin was up ahead, just over the slight crest of a hill, more of a bump, really, that marked the tree line where forest met clearing. With an even stride, I broke through to the clearing in a matter of seconds. There was nothing left to see. The world had been reduced to a terrifying gray scale, the kind where you can barely see your own hand in front of your face.
There was only a vague outline where the cabin should have been plainly visible. The shimmer of the fence created tiny golden halos in the gloom and I breathed a sigh of relief. Though I couldn't say exactly why, I'd almost expected the fence to have failed, for the world to have truly gone black. Relief that this wasn't the case flooded my system.
The joy was short-lived. It took all of two seconds to realize I was not alone. I heard him before I actually saw him. Not that there was much to see, but it didn't matter. I knew immediately what I was looking at. The mist and the fog were thick and dark and that was hard enough to see through but this?this was black. It was darker than night. Evening shadows seem to press in on you but this thing, this darkness, had a life all its own.
I was surprised and yet all at once I wasn't. The Shadow Man had finally come for me. My only consolation was that we were on opposite sides of the fence, at least for now. It was a damn good thing, too, since the only weapon I had on me was a small knife.
"Hello, Aries."
Everything in me recoiled at the sound of the demon's voice. And that's what he was, I realized anew, a demon. I was face-to-face with a demonic force. Terlain was full of centuries-old tales of the Shadow Man, though he wasn't like any "man" I'd ever seen. In modern times only a handful of people were believed to have seen the war demon commonly referred to as the Shadow Man, and less commonly as the Lahuel.
There had never been any reports of the Lahuel actually speaking to someone. At least, if there were I wasn't aware of them. But I was certain that "hello, Aries" wasn't the thing's first uttered word. Probably, during that long-ago time historians referred to as Terlain's only other major war before this one, someone had had the acute, hair-raising displeasure of hearing the Lahuel's gritty, gravelly, broken voice. In a mere two words it was obvious the tone was much more than a serious underuse of vocal cords.
No, I shivered under the dubious cover of the mist. The Lahuel had just spoken my name with such a volatile, abject hatred that my entire being recoiled. I felt sorry for all of those long-ago soldiers who'd been honor bound to face the war demon on the battlefield. I could attest to the fact that it wasn't much of a surprise most of those brave men and women hadn't lived to recount the tale.
In two words the Lahuel had spoken volumes, most notably that the only thing saving my ass and stopping it from tearing me apart was becau
se it physically couldn't. The fence-praise all that it was still intact-prevented the demon from crossing over into the clearing where I stood all but shaking in my boots. My boots and one very tiny knife. Hell.
It was damn tempting to turn around, dart into the woods and go?well, I didn't really know where. The destination didn't matter. Right then I just wanted to be away from the Lahuel and his dark, burning hatred. But I took one halting step forward, then another, trying to stay focused on the faint shimmer of the fence that lay just ahead. Tonight the tiny, blessed lights weren't dancing like they normally did. Instead they pulsed with the hostile energy that seemed to be everywhere, spilling over from the Lahuel and leeching into the very fabric of the landscape.
Speaking of the landscape? I squinted against the gloom. Was the shadow demon causing the fog? It was an interesting theory and one that was entirely plausible, I thought, stopping directly in front of the fence. The darkness shifted in front of me and brought my attention forcefully back to the present, back to the shadowy place where I stood, facing a demon. And not just any demon-the infamous Lahuel. Kahn's right hand.
I would not hide from the reality of what was staring me in the face and so I squared off with the black mass, no flinching, no running. If my heart was thudding audibly beneath the vest I wore, well, that couldn't really be helped.
It was difficult to see him, even though he had to be right in front of me. The mist was that thick. But the void made it obvious the Lahuel was facing me on the other side of the fence. If I thought about it, he was damn close, mere inches away. I tried not to think about it in those exact terms.
But then, all at once the fog cleared, the heavy sheets lifting and dissipating into thin wispy trails that merged with the tree line and the stars high above this spot that held me rooted in place. The Lahuel and I were left to stare at each other, unencumbered now by mist and poor lighting. It was enough to practically freeze me where I stood. Dramatic yes, but I don't think I could have moved even if I'd wanted to, and strangely enough, I didn't want to.
I wanted to sink into the ground. I wanted to breathe, because the Lahuel was sucking all the air from the space around us. I wanted to hide. But running never occurred to me. I guess it just didn't feel like an option.
He had no face, at least none that I could see clearly, nothing in the way of traditional features. Deep, black voids occupied the spaces where his eyes and nose and mouth should have been.
It was strange how he seemed to see me. The full brunt of his rage was directed at me and it took real effort not to flinch away when every instinct of self-preservation I had was screaming run, run, run, keeping time with my racing heart.
He stood without moving, and I had the disturbing sensation of his eye sockets, empty but not empty, boring into my own. I reached out with shaking fingers and gripped the only thing left in my immediate vicinity that was solid and real and safe. The fence.
My fingers curled around the scarred wood of the top rail and a burst of warmth and energy flowed from it to me. The Lahuel radiated animosity, and a long, black arm raised and crossed the foot of space between us. One dark finger came to rest against the fence. It looked like that finger should be insubstantial, even as dark as it was, much like the elusive tendrils of smoke that still curled in the distant sky, but it wasn't. Its finger was solid against the fence rail. I watched in fascinated horror as the wood directly around where its finger rested became dark and shadowed.
"Stop it," I gasped. The pulsing glow around the fence began to flicker, then dim. "No!" I reached out and gripped the fence with both hands, one on either side of the shadowed hand, careful not to actually touch the Lahuel, afraid of what would happen if my skin were to accidentally brush his.
I focused on the shimmer, staring down at it, so hard that it blurred before my eyes. I concentrated for all I was worth, as if I could will it to be strong enough to withstand whatever brand of onslaught the shadow demon was creating.
"No!" I ground out again, this time through clenched teeth. Across the narrow space, the Lahuel's mouth opened and it began to scream.
A heartbeat later, I was being roughly pulled away from the shrieking demon and the fence. I stumbled as someone dragged me away from the chaos and the noise. I fought the hands that were clasped tightly around my arms.
"Aries, stop it!" Aranu roared, his mouth close to my ear. After that first pause of recognition and a brief flare of relief that I wasn't under attack, I renewed my efforts and fought harder.
"Let go!" I roared right back at his stern face. We had reached the tree line before he finally stopped dragging me along behind him. I jerked free only to be spun around again under the moonlight. He looked both angry and pained.
""Have you lost your mind?" he demanded. "What were you trying to do back there?"
"You have to let go," I gasped, frantic.
"No way," he growled, holding fast to my arm.
"You don't understand," I cried, twisting in his grasp, "the Lahuel-he's trying to break the enchantment. We'll all be dead, everyone. You have to-just let go, I have to stop him." My speech was splintered, panicked.
"What in the hell do you think you're going to do? Other than get yourself killed." His chest heaved and he raised his voice to be heard over the screams of the Lahuel, but abruptly the noise ended and Aranu's words bounced off the trees around us, too loud in the now-eerie silence of the night. I was already whirling around by the time his gaze darted over my shoulder, but the Lahuel had disappeared.
"He's gone." I closed my eyes and exhaled, letting my hands rest against Aranu's biceps.
He gave me a light shake and I found myself staring up into his harsh, angry face. Beneath the light dusky amber of his skin, he looked pale, although that could have been a trick of the light.
"Is it your mission in life to give me a heart attack?" he asked, narrowing his eyes and shoving his face close to mine.
"Yell at me one more time tonight and it will be, I promise you," I shot back.
"You almost died back there." He lowered his voice and released my arms.
"You act like I planned that," I muttered, shaking my head. "The Lahuel was doing something to the fence, messing with its energy somehow, creating some sort of disturbance. I think he was about to break the spell." I took a moment to catch my breath, feeling shaky and dizzy as I came down from a serious adrenaline rush. "The lights were flickering and growing dim. Did you see it? Is that what happened just before the other zone failures?"
"I saw it," he said grimly. "As far as the other security breaches, so far no one's reported seeing the Lahuel just before the shimmer around the fence winked out. But," he added, "that's basically what happened immediately before each failure. The lights dimmed and blinked several times before they went dark for good. And then all hell broke loose." He frowned at me. "We were lucky tonight," he said, aiming a pointed look at the fence and another hard stare at me.
"Look, I know it doesn't make sense, but I think that I-that my hands on the fence-was holding back the Lahuel. Maybe preventing him from breaking the spell."
"How so?" Aranu went still and tilted his head to the side, his anger seemingly forgotten.
"I don't know. Not exactly. But when I put my hands on the fence, the light seemed to grow stronger and stabilize." I shrugged helplessly. "Like I said, I can't really explain it. I only know that it happened. Where do you think he went?" I asked, turning around and peering into the distance past the fence, beyond the cabin.
But Aranu didn't answer me. Instead, I heard him groan. "Ari, Ari, what am I going to do with you?"
"Hey, I didn't ask for this," I pointed out without bothering to turn around. "I don't know why the Lahuel decided to come after me."
"The same reason he and Kahn are also after Claire." Aranu sighed. "The two of you pose a threat to their army. Hell, you practically decimated his army once already."
I stared into the distance beyond, to a night that use
d to look warm and inviting and a little mysterious. Now it was just bleak. The fence had even lost some of its usual shine, I reflected dismally. It didn't look much like a safe haven anymore. It looked?woefully short-lived. Damn it. We were fighting a losing battle. Aranu knew it. I knew it.
And maybe it was the shock of the night wearing on my nerves, but just then I couldn't think of one single thing to do about it.
"Did the Lahuel say anything to you?" Aranu's voice sounded closer now, right behind me.
"He said hello."
"That's it?" he asked after a long pause.
I nodded. "He touched the fence and then he started screaming. Well," I wrapped my arms around my midsection, "you saw the rest."
"I thought he was going to break through the fence. I thought you were about to be killed."
His chest brushed against my back and a quick, involuntary shiver danced along my nerve endings. My eyes went wide and I froze when, a split second later, Aranu's arms slid up and over, gliding along my sides on a path that wrapped around my own crossed arms. His hands came to rest over my fingers. His forearms skimmed the top of my rib cage and I inhaled sharply.
He buried his face in the hollow between my neck and shoulder and repeated what sounded a lot like, "What am I going to do with you," the words a low, heated rumble against my skin.
"I have a job to do," I gasped. What the hell was he doing? "Sometimes-" I faltered when his arms became tight, heavy cords. "Most of the time?it's dangerous."
"I know that," he growled. "No one knows that better than I do." He let go of me only to slowly turn me around in the circle of his arms. His face lowered to mine and his voice, when he spoke a second later, was low and raspy. "Don't think for one minute that I'm not proud of the way you put your ass on the line every day. I am." His forehead rested against mine. "But don't ask me to like it."
"I?"
Aranu was going to kiss me. I was still trying to process that when his hands moved up to frame my neck and he fit his mouth to mine.