As her heart started to beat faster, Oliva picked up her pace until she heard a trickling sound. It sounded like the rain leaking through a window, but Oliva didn't see any windows open. The trickling soon turned into a gush, and Oliva noticed that water was starting to spread in a large puddle across the floor. The puddle grew bigger, blocking Oliva's path. She backed away from the water, but it seemed to follow her every movement. To her further shock, the water then rose from the ground and began to take shape in midair.
Without a second thought, Oliva dropped everything and ran from the cursed water. She heard the gushing continue behind her, as if the water was chasing her. It was so dark that she couldn't see where she was going except for when lightning struck outside. She finally found the stairs and ran up to the fifth floor. She somehow managed not to trip in the dark and when she found the top of the stairs, she ran towards Mistress Vahn's chambers.
Oliva didn't make it that far. The water wrapped around her feet and something in the water pulled her feet backwards and knocked her to the floor. Oliva splashed into a puddle as the water began to retreat. She turned onto her back, propped up with her elbows, just in time to see a figure solidifying out of the water and standing over her.
The water formed the features of a man with dark, scarred skin. His pale blonde hair fell over pointed ears and his blue and gray armor materialized soon after. The last thing to form were his sharp, aqua-colored eyes. Though she wanted to get up and run, her body was frozen and unresponsive.
The mysterious man pulled her to her feet and muttered, “Don't scream.”
Oliva did scream, and it was the last thing she remembered before a sharp pain in the back of her head made her vision go dark.
Varg's sharp instincts saved him from death on multiple occasions. It was due to this fact that when he awoke with a start in the middle of the night, he knew something was wrong. The room was dark and Milea and Erril slept soundly in their own beds, but Varg sensed that something was amiss despite the apparent peace. The streets outside were far too quiet and the night seemed darker than it should have.
Varg looked to Milea's bed to see her chest rising and Erril seemed just as well on the next bed over, so Varg allowed himself to breathe again. Just when he was about to dismiss his feeling that something was wrong, Varg heard the floor creak. He reached for Frost Fang, which was rested against the wall next to his bed. Once he felt the cool metal handle, he firmly gripped it and swung in the air before him with all his might.
Frost Fang's blade collided with a black figure that lunged for him with a knife drawn. He halted the attacking cultist a mere second before his blade reached Varg's throat. The dead cultist tumbled across the room in a bloodied mess, causing Milea and Erril to wake from their deep slumber.
“What's going on?” Milea said as she hopped out of bed.
“A Shadow Hand cultist just tried to kill me,” Varg explained.
Milea followed his pointing finger to the lifeless cultist across the room, then said, “If the Shadow Hand is in Balik, Oliva is in danger!”
“We have to find her before they do,” Varg said. “Let's go.”
Once the crew grabbed their equipment, they rushed out of the inn and ignored the questioning glares from the innkeeper. They made haste to the Crown District, where they rounded the corners of the tall buildings until they found the courtyard of the Academy. The courtyard was empty except for a few guards patrolling the area. There were no evident signs of cultist activity from the outside, but Varg had a feeling they should keep looking. He decided to start by asking one of the guards.
Varg approached a guard stationed in front of the water fountain. “Everything all right?”
The guard eyed Varg suspiciously, but answered, “Nothing out of the ordinary.”
Varg continued, “You haven't seen any suspicious characters wandering about the school property, have you?”
The guard looked Varg in the eyes and said accusingly, “As a matter of fact, I have.”
Milea pulled Varg away by the arm, then said to the guard, “Sorry to bother you, Sir. We'll be on our way.”
“You do that,” the guard remarked.
Varg marched away from the guard with Milea at his side and Erril trailed behind them. He finally looked to Milea and said, “What now? I doubt the other guards will listen, much less grant us entry into the school.”
“The spells protecting the school would make sneaking in not an option, let alone the gargoyles. If we snoop around outside, we may arouse more suspicion from the guards,” Milea explained.
“Then what should we do?” Erril wondered.
Varg let his eyes wonder around the grounds once more, desperate to find some kind of hint. At first he saw nothing but the guards again, but a sharp movement to the east end of the yard caught his eye. He pointed to where he saw the movement and said, “Over there.”
Varg rushed to the site of the oddity, which led his eyes to a strange glow from behind part of the school. He saw the figure of a man move near the glow and step down a set of stairs and disappear from sight. He crept towards the light and crouched as he got closer. He took a hiding spot behind a wall next to a set of stairs. Milea crouched behind another wall opposite Varg and Erril crouched down beside her. They peeked around the corner and surveyed the scene. The stairs dipped into a smaller area that seemed fairly unused by students, but the scenery was not what caught his attention.
A group of cultists stood triumphant with the water elf they had seen at the hideout in Wild Valley. Tain stood with none other than Oliva unconscious in his arms. To Varg's shock, not to mention ire, Emila Vahn stood before the cultists and spoke to them as if she were scolding students.
The headmistress tilted her nose upward and looked upon the cultists with contempt as she spoke, “I told you to keep it quiet! Now half the school is up and about looking for her!”
“I told her not to scream,” Tain remarked.
“If you don't want the Serpant's plan to go awry then you'd better get out of Balik with the girl before the guards catch you,” Emila barked.
Varg's blood boiled at the sight of Emila speaking about Oliva as if she were a tool. His knuckles tightened around Frost Fang's handle that the metal shaft threatened to shatter. Varg exchanged a glance with Milea, who nodded in his direction along with Erril. Varg nodded in return, and all at once they charged into the scene.
Varg marched straight for Emila and spat, “You traitor!”
The headmistress and the cultists jerked their heads in surprise at the ambushers, but Tain seemed indifferent.
“I should have known better than to send Rokir to handle those three. The fool couldn't handle getting into the district without someone giving him directions,” the water elf muttered.
Emila ignored his remarks and shouted, “What are you three doing here?”
“I think the better question is why are you betraying your own apprentice to the Serpent?” Varg countered.
The headmistress stuck up her nose again, a gesture that made Varg want to rip it off her face with his bare hands, and said, “I don't expect your kind to understand my methods nor do I under any circumstance owe you an explanation.”
“Nothing can justify selling your own apprentice to the Shadow Hand!” Varg spat.
Tain stepped forward and interrupted, “If everyone is done here, perhaps we can be on our way?”
“You aren't going anywhere until you release Oliva,” Varg countered.
“I believe I made myself rather clear,” Tain retorted.
“As did I,” Varg barked.
“As much as I would love spending hours arguing with you, I don't have time for it. I have a job to do and the Serpent is not a patient man,” Tain replied.
Tain nodded to one of the cultists, and the cultist pulled a crystal from his pocket and tossed it against a nearby wall. Instead of bouncing off the wall and onto the ground, the crystal disintegrated upon impact and in its place, a tall portal of pure
shadow formed on the wall. Tain made a move towards the portal, prompting Varg to charge after him.
“Stop!” he yelled.
The water elf ignored him and stepped through the portal with Oliva in his arms. The remaining cultists fled through the portal behind him. The portal remained open for a few seconds, but faded away before Varg could follow them.
“Dammit!” Varg yelled. He then offered a swift punch to the wall where the portal had been and left a crack in the stonework.
Varg then turned his attention back to the headmistress. With fiery eyes and a hand on his blade, Varg charge at Emila Vahn with the full intent of ending her life for her treachery. The elder mage had her spell ready as Milea whipped out her bow and loosed an arrow. It missed the headmistress, but Erril used the resulting distraction to land a sneak attack with her dagger. The girl landed a direct hit across the headmistress's forearm, but an invisible barrier seemed to block the damage and prevent the dagger from even piercing her sleeve.
Varg quickened his pace while the headmistress was distracted and brought Frost Fang to her proper position. When he was close enough, he swung at Emila with full force. The blade merely bounded off of a shield of energy created by the headmistress before the blow landed. Nevertheless Varg rounded for another attack. All was in vain, it seemed, as the headmistress's magic was far to powerful to penetrate her shields.
“Enough of this,” Emila growled.
With a jerk of her hands, she struck Erril with a lightning spell and sent the poor child flying backwards like a rag doll. Varg quickly checked on the girl, saw she was healing up, and returned to battle. After Milea suffered the same fate as Erril, Varg decided that he needed to fight magic with magic, so to speak. With his free hand, he threw large icicles at Emila. The headmistress swiftly dodged the spears, but Varg could tell that she wouldn't last long. Given his many years of practice with his natural skill, Varg had become quick and deadly with his icy power.
Emila was far quicker than she seemed to be, almost more so than Milea or Erril. The battleground was soon becoming a frozen tundra with all the missed shots Varg let loose. The half-blood planned to use this to his advantage and waited patiently for the headmistress to make a mistake. It came when she took a step on a sheet of ice and slipped onto her back.
Before the traitor could collect herself enough to begin a new spell, Varg pulled all of his power together and sent nearly a dozen large icicles flying in her direction. The headmistress was still quick despite her disorientation and managed to dodge all but one. Emila howled in pain as the final frozen spear sliced her arm open. The headmistress stared in horror as the skin around her wound blackened with frostbite and froze solid. With the sudden still of battle, she looked in Varg's direction and backed away from him
“What kind of monster are you?” she muttered in terror.
Varg gazed upon the damage he'd done and realized that the headmistress would have no further use of her arm even if she were healed before the frost bite killed her. He wanted to say he didn't care, but a pang of guilt tugged his gut nonetheless. The way he delivered this fate without mercy gave Varg a chill down his spine, as he remembered all too well what happened the last time . . .
“What's going on here?”
The guards from the courtyard came rushing onto the scene to discover the injured Emila Vahn and her foes, the man holding a giant axe and the now recovered Milea and Erril. Varg looked at the headmistress and saw her mind working. Before the dread even hit him, Emila struggled to her feet and caught the guards' attention and pointed a finger in Varg's direction.
“Guards, a student has been abducted by hooded assailants. These are the conspirators who lured her from the safety of the school and handed her over to the abductors,” Emila said.
“That's a lie,” Varg spat.
Emila ignored him and continued, “I tried to stop them, but I was too late. Then that monster tried to kill me so I wouldn't be able to say anything. Arrest them, quickly!”
The guards readied their weapons at the trio, then Milea turned to the others and said, “Run.”
Varg hesitated, to which Milea responded, “We can't help Oliva from a prison cell! Run!”
Varg cursed under his breath and made the wise choice to retreat. Milea and Erril followed him and the guards began pursuit. The sound of an alarm horn could be heard behind them, so he quickly picked up the pace. Varg spotted a nearby alley and decided to lead his comrades through them in an effort to shake off the pursuing guards.
“Does anyone know how we can lose the guards?” Varg asked.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Erril said. “Just keep running.”
The girl stopped in her tracks, and revealed a small orb from one of her pockets. She hurled the orb onto the ground and it exploded on impact, leaving the entire area behind them in a thick, inescapable cloud of smoke.
The guards and headmistress desperately hacked for air and tried in vain to find their way out of the forest of black smoke, which gave Varg and the others the time they needed to hide.
“Good thinking, Erril,” Varg said as they trotted out of sight behind a large stack of barrels.
“What now? How can we leave the city with all of those guards looking for us?” Erril asked.
“First we need to get to the Trade District, then we can figure out what to do from there,” Milea suggested.
“I doubt the gate guards will just let us walk right out,” Erril retorted.
“Maybe there's another way,” Varg said. “Follow my lead.”
Varg peeked around the side of the barrels and when he saw that everything was clear, he gestured for Milea and Erril to cross the alley to a spot behind some crates. Once they followed his command, he joined them and continued to repeat this process until they were in the Commons District.
With Varg's lead, the three companions carefully evaded the guards and kept hidden in the shadows. Milea used her magic to shield them should a guard venture too close to their hiding place. A few slumbering guards later, and they soon made haste to the Trade District.
“There aren't as many guards here,” Milea said as they hid in an alley a few streets away from the city entrance.
Varg peeked around the corner, looked back, and added, “They don't seem to be looking for us either.”
“Maybe they still think we're in the Crown District?” Erril chimed in.
“Then there's hope,” Varg said. “If we can keep a low profile, maybe we an get past the guards.”
“After you,” Milea said.
Varg took the lead again and made his way to the road leading to the city entrance. It wasn't long before they started to hear voices in hushed tones, which put Varg on edge. He slowed his pace to listen in on the conversation, but he didn't have to try hard to hear the shouting that soon ensued.
“I need to leave Balik now!”
The familiar voice assaulted Varg's ears and he rounded the corner only to confirm the owner's identity.
Edric Greenwood stared down the guard and shouted, “I am the Count of Rivershire, and I demand you grant me the right to leave the city at once!”
“Count or not, my orders still stand. There are criminals on the loose, so no one leaves or enters without a quick caravan check,” the guard countered.
It wasn't until he mentioned it that Varg saw the caravan near Edric that city guards were rummaging through.
“You would dare accuse me of harboring fugitives?” Edric fumed.
“My orders still stand,” the guard repeated.
Varg shook his head at the sight of the pretentious Count, but his head suddenly cleared when a fuming Edric marched away from the guard and into their direction.
“Everyone hide, quick!” Varg said.
Milea and Erril ducked behind some an old cart while Varg waited behind a merchant stand. Edric marched into the alley, presumably to blow off steam, and began to pace and mutter to himself about the “audacity” of that guard. The grumbling Count
turned away from Varg, giving the hunter an idea that could save his and his friends' hides. He gestured for Milea and Erril to stay hidden, then he carried out one of the boldest plans he ever hatched.
Varg left his hiding spot to creep up behind the Count. Fortunately the nobleman's ranting drowned out any sound Varg made that could have alerted him, giving Varg ample opportunity to reach from behind him and cover the noble's mouth. Edric tried to scream, but Varg's hands were quick and muffled the sound. He grabbed Edric's hands and pulled him to the hiding place behind the cart, then Milea and Erril quickly helped Varg detain him.
Trapped like a piece of game, Edric began to shake violently.
Varg wasted no time and looked the Count in the eye before muttering, “Make a sound and your head will roll.”
The Count nodded furiously with Varg's hand still over his mouth. Once he was sure the Count wouldn't dare scream for help, he removed his hand.
With his mouth free again, Edric then stammered, “What are you brutes doing here?”
“The only important thing you need to know is that we need to get out of the city and you're going to help us,” Varg replied.
“Why would I do that?” Edric pressed.
All Varg had to do was draw Frost Fang, and the Count started talking again. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn't.”
“You owe us after what you did in Rivershire,” Milea argued.
“Are you still on about that?” Edric remarked.
Varg ignored his comment. “I have a plan, and it involves you smuggling us out of the city in your caravan.”
“The guards are searching it as we speak, so that plan will never work,” Edric rebuked.
“They're searching it now, but there's no reason to search it twice,” Varg said.
“Whatever you are plotting, I won't have any part of it,” the Count said defiantly.
“Oh you will, otherwise my axe will taste your blood,” Varg said.
Edric studied Varg, then said, “I will do it only if you swear I won't be harmed once you have no use for me.”
The White Wolf (Half-Breed Book 1) Page 12