Revenge: The Gray-Matter Chrolicles: Book 1 (The Matter Chronicles 4)

by P. G. Thomas

  Steve grabbed her by the shoulder, “Look I know you want to get back fast, but I don’t think we should fly straight there. Somebody might see us, so I think we should fly west and circle around the town to arrive from the south. There’ll be fewer eyes on us.”

  Lauren, confused by the events, tired from the sleepless night, nodded in agreement.

  Several hours later, the flying horses had circled the large town, and if not for Danex’s garden, it would have been impossible to spot Gayne’s house. They guided the horses down to the back, changing the mounts into the magic amulets, and Steve raced after Lauren as she ran to the house. During that short sprint, he wondered why Hoyle and Korg had failed to make an appearance.

  “Have Ryan or Panry showed up?” asked Lauren.

  Eric raised himself from the table, “No, we haven’t seen either.”

  As Steve entered, he thought it odd that they would be sitting, expecting an alcoholic beverage in front of one if not both. “Where are Gor, Grax, and Amber?”

  The look that Eric gave Logan seemed to be one of surprise.

  Scanning the room, Steve, noticing items out of place, began to back up to the door, but before he could warn Lauren, Eric grabbed her. Hesitating for a second, Steve was uncertain if he should charge or flee out the door. However, the opportunity to do either was robbed from him when Logan lunged, knocked him over, and then he felt a cold steel blade at his throat and quit struggling.

  Lauren was trying to push Eric away, but he seemed stronger, so she called to the staff, telling the magic to attack. Feeling her wrist snap, everything went black.

  *******

  Being shaken awake, when Lauren opened her eyes, pain from her broken wrist exploded into her brain, causing her to moan loudly through clenched teeth. Pulling her arm to her front, she cradled it, looked at Steve, “What happened?”

  “I don’t know, but that wasn’t Eric and Ryan.”

  “Where are we?” With Steve’s help, she raised herself up. Seeing the metal bars with the street behind them, Lauren immediately knew they were in a jail cart, feeling it sway from side-to-side, hearing the horse’s hooves on the stone paved street as it jerked forward, and she recalled the memory of when Logan had been captured. Turning to the front, she saw a massive castle approaching.

  At the back, she saw the two large stone walls, which provided entrance into the stronghold. A wooden beam supported by two posts was on the left side, and from it, twelve lifeless elves were hanging with ropes around their necks. Just before the castle swallowed the jail cart, the last figure twisted in the wind, and seeing the lifeless, blue face of Panry Moonshadow, she fainted.

  *******

  “Lauren, can you hear me?”

  Shaking herself awake, Lauren, grimacing at the still fresh pain, looked around the room in shock. She was strapped to a board, and to her left, she heard Ryan calling out. As her eyes focused on her husband, she saw the strange figure with the elaborate tattoo holding him in place. “Can’t you do something?”

  He shook his head, “The magic, it’s gone!”

  Lauren, being beyond overwhelmed, heard Steve’s screams, blinked her eyes to bring them into focus, and saw him being held by two of the tattooed men, and in front of him, a man wearing a regal gold crown.

  “You are new here, but what I want to know is simple. Where is the short one? I believe they called him the Unchosen. Such stupid, simple names.” Then Zymse dragged a hot iron across Steve’s bare chest.

  Holding in his painful scream, Steve shouted out so everybody would hear, “HE NEVER CAME WITH US!”

  “Pity,” Zymse replied, and again, he dragged the hot iron very slowly across Steve’s chest, “However, I do not believe you.” This time, Steve screamed in agony.

  “STOP IT, YOU BASTARD!”

  “Aww! The Earth Whore wakes up,” began Zymse. “So nice of you to join us.”

  “MOTHER, strike him down!”

  “Death magic is not really her style. You could say it is more of my domain. When my—when they gave birth, your Mother sensed it. I think she was trying to determine if they were of the weaker sex, but my magic was ready. Right now, it has infested her very being, and shortly, she will call me Master.” Then Zymse started to laugh with joy.

  It ended when Lauren spit into his face.

  Clapping his hands, a young girl wearing only a long flowing skirt, her upper body completely covered in brands, walked up to Zymse, and she saw the offensive spit that marred the face of her master. As he leaned forward, she removed the skirt, exposing the brands on her lower body, wiped the spittle from his face, replaced her skirt, and walked back towards the door.

  “Do that again, and I will sew your lips shut,” advised Zymse. He then walked over to the skin-colored chair in the middle of the room and sat down.

  Eric dragged himself forward in the locked cell, grabbed the bars, and raised himself up. “Leave them alone! Pick on somebody your own size.”

  Zymse never acknowledged the feeble challenge, “I have waited for this day for so long, and with almost everybody here, I have no idea on where to start.” He looked over to the shrine, “Zack, say hello to your old friends.”

  Everybody’s gaze turned to the stuffed wolf head mounted on the wall, surrounded by all of the elf belt buckles.

  “RYAN, DO SOMETHING!” pleaded Lauren

  They could all see the perspiration on his brow as he tried to break free, but the rage that once scared so many was no more.

  *******

  When a portal opened in Gayne’s living room, John, absent of any cloaks that contained magic, stepped through. He saw Eric and Logan sitting at the table, “Where’s everybody?”

  Before either could reply, there was a bangingat the patio door, and they turned to see Mirtza. “RUN, JOHN, IT IS A TRAP—” His abrupt warning ending when several crossbow bolts slammed into his frail body, making him convulse in pain, and turning his white nightshirt red.

  Logan and Eric rushed John, knocking him over, and everything went black.

  *******

  After the door had opened, a guard pushed John into the room, and as he stumbled to gain his footing, scanned the horrors that filled his eyes. At the far end, he saw Lauren strapped to a board, her shirt missing, and grotesque brands crisscrossing her exposed chest and abdomen. Beside her, Ryan, his body covered in brands, hung limp from another board, being held in place by strange creatures. A brazier containing hot coals with branding irons was in front of them. Crumpled in a ball to his right was Steve, whose face and body were a monstrous collection of bruises, brands, and cuts. In a locked cell, Eric was leaning unconscious against the bars. Then he saw the elf belt buckles, the wolf skin rug, and the stuffed wolf head. As well, fresh blood dripped from two odd pieces of material hanging beneath it: one with a red feather tattoo, the other being a blue feather. On the far side, the once impressive dwarf armor stood, and the sword named Tranquil Fury, both with acid dripping on them.

  John, his mind imploding with images of pain and death, ran over to Ryan, slapped his face, “DO SOMETHING! STOP THIS!”

  He forced his eyes open. [Disengage Sleep Mode.] “John, they have you too?” [Implement Hail Marry Plan. Extend Power Transfer units. Relocate reserves.]

  John tried to force the two odd beings off of Ryan, and as he did, never realized that Ryan’s body morphed, never felt the small mechanical appendages connect to his metal belt. Whiile he may have called it titanium, dwarves called it mithril, and it was the metal that attracted magic.

  “Ryan, you can do this, Lauren is hurting. WHERE’S THE RAGE?”

  “Waist him for me.” [Message delivered. Transfer complete. Offline…]

  Suddenly, John felt himself hurled across the room, slamming into the far wall, and he felt the chains wrap around his shoulders, chest, and hips, suspending him off of the ground. Giving his head a shake, blinking his eyes to clear his vision, when he looked up, Zymse Darpac was standing in the middle of the room. He reache
d up to wipe away his painful tears, “Why’re you doing this?”

  “BECAUSE YOU TOOK SOMETHING FROM ME, AND I WANT IT BACK!”

  John’s head was still spinning, “What did we take?”

  “I DO NOT KNOW, BUT IT HAS TO BE YOU FIVE THAT DID IT!” Zymes forced himself to calm down, “I was standing on the docks in Darkpaye, watching soldier’s board ships, and then suddenly they disembarked. I remember that we had peace, but something felt wrong. I walked back to my castle, which was a route that I knew like the back of my hand, but when I arrived, it was not there, and I looked at an immense forest. I retraced my steps to the dock, worked my way back, and looked at the forest again. I knew that I was not lost, but I also had no idea of where I was. It was like somebody had ripped out part of me, and slowly a pain began to form in my heart, but I was unable to understand why. I returned to my childhood home, which was still there, and tried to figure out what had happened. Every day that I woke, I was always expecting to hear or see something else, but I never found it. Returning to the port city that I thought I knew, I checked the tax registry, finding several properties that I owned. When I saw them, I recognized them, but I did not. I had slaves that called me by name, and they even questioned my absence. I knew them, but I did not. My mind was always in a fog, and the pain in my heart was growing. I was unable to sleep, and even torture, well, it no longer brought me the enjoyment I wanted, and I thought I was going mad. The only recent event was the invasion ending, so I sailed to this dreaded land to see if I could determine what had happened. Over time and after watching that boring play with those damn amateurish dwarves so many times, I figured out that it must have been you six. WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME? WHAT DID YOU SIX DO TO CAUSE ME THIS MUCH PAIN?”

  “It was Darkpaye who attacked Calicon, and we just defended it,” stated Lauren.

  “I care nothing about the damned invasion. YOU TOOK SOMETHING FROM ME, AND I WANT IT BACK!”

  “YOU TOOK MY DAUGHTERS!” screamed Lauren.

  “I thought it was only fitting that I should cause you the same amount of pain that you caused me. You should have seen the look on your face when they entered into the portal.” Zymse turned to John. “And you, Poorly Chosen, you will show me how to use that machine.”

  “NEVER!”

  “I will make the time for you,” advised Zymse. “You will soon learn that I am a patient man—when it suits me. I studied the events for years, tracked that poor excuse of a teacher back here. It only took me a matter of months to locate your machine, but when I powered it, I never expected it to show me the Earth Wench and with young ones. I was hoping it would show me the rest of you, yet it did not. Before I left it that night, I smashed it so the Earth Bitch would never reunite with her offspring. However, I guess somebody has fixed it, and you will eventually show me how to use it. You will bend to my desires—everyone always does.”

  There was a knock at the door, and a tall lady with flowing black hair, wearing a long black dress entered, “Father, my sisters never survived the birthing of your heirs.”

  “Come here,” ordered Zymse.

  When she was standing in front of him, he unleashed a brutal slap to her face, leaving a large red imprint of his hand. “I told you to call me king. You are the Queen of Calicon so act like it, bitch!”

  “My King, I am sorry, and it will never happen again.”

  Lauren was trying to hold back her tears, “Samantha?”

  The new queen, who was visibly older than Lauren, pointed, “Is that the one? Would you like me to kill her for you, my King?”

  Lauren’s eyes screamed with outrage at Zymse, “YOU ARE A MONSTER!”

  He smiled under his black veil, “Maybe later, as I am not done with her yet. Go look after my heirs.”

  “Yes, my King,” and then she left.

  Zymse turned to Lauren, “You should know that I told them about you and gave them new names. Every year when they should have celebrated their day of birth, I told them you would arrive: bring gifts and hug them. I would buy them pretty dresses, telling them they could only wear them once you arrived. They would get up so early, waiting all day for you to show up, and look at those dresses the entire day. At the end of it, because you never did arrive, I would make them watch when I burned them. Year after year, I built up their hopes and then crushed them. I renamed that one Crimson. They had all seen me beat the slaves for poor performance, but the day after one of their birth celebrations, a slave took her a cold meal. When I asked her how it should be punished, I smiled when she said to whip them. Of course, I had planned the event, but since she was so angry with you, it all came out of her that day. Noticing the power of Mother in them, I began to understand how strong it was. So I started to groom them, which they accepted. I guess they were with me about eighteen years, guessing from their maturing figures, and you had failed to show up for another celebration. I asked them how they felt, really felt, and they cursed you like no other. I kept them cursing for a month, telling them it was the only way they could cleanse themselves. They never realized they cursed that damned Mother of yours, and then she went quiet. One of the best days of my life, well, until today. Of all the wedding gifts that I desired, your arrival was unexpected. Maybe we should hold another ceremony, letting you watch when she takes me for her king and husband, and when it is done, she can slit your throat.” When his comments failed to get a response from Lauren, he continued. “You should know that I do care about her, and that is the reason I always took her last once I had my dark magic. Since I only needed one to deliver my future, it made no sense to spoil all three. With Mother soon bowing to my wishes, it made sense to keep one around to guide my new servant.”

  Hearing Eric moan, Zymse walked over to the sword, removed it from the pedestals, and slammed it against the floor, breaking it into two pieces. “Damn, that was hard steel. Over thirty years of dripping acid on it so that I could do that.” He walked the half-sword over to the cell and dropped it. “If you want, you can use it to cut your own throat with it.” Zymse turned to the group. “NOW TELL ME WHAT YOU TOOK FROM ME, TO CAUSE THIS PAIN!” Then he calmed down, “If you show me how to fix this, your suffering will be short.”

  Lifting his head, Ryan stared at John, and in barely audible words, said, “Waist—him,” which was heard by the magic translation ointment that amplified the silent whisper.

  Realizing that Ryan was staring at his belt, John slowly brought his hands to it, feeling the raw power; magic that sought purpose. His mind raced, trying to create a winning simulation, but first, he needed to know what the variables were. “What did we take from you?”

  Zymse response was anger filled, “I DO NOT KNOW BECAUSE IT IS NOT THERE! JUST THE PAIN CAUSED BY WHAT YOU TOOK!”

  John thought back to Tranquil’s angry outburst, ‘I do not know because it is no longer here.’ He remembered when she said, ‘As soon as you spoke the words I cannot recall, in that brief second, I saw what was going to happen, and then like your words, the image was gone.’ He thought back to all of the times they had talked, and how they were unable to remember certain events in their entirety. Lauren must have altered the past but never updated history! She removed something, leaving a void. That happened forty years ago. How do I fix this? Then he recalled the equation to measure the length of time that star light had traveled. If you understood an equation, you could manipulate the variables, and rearrange them to calculate a result for a particular moment in time gone. I need more magic, but where do I get it?

  Looking over, Ryan saw John’s hands on the belt, smiled just briefly, and then tilted his head back as he stared straight up, motionless.

  John looked up to the ceiling and beyond. The night sky, the thermosphere, where the magic orbits this planet. It would be incredibly powerful since none of it will have burnt off, like it does when it enters the atmosphere. He called the magic to him, feeling its presence, and tasked it. Creating a small vortex, he sent it up through the building into the cold skies, fifty mil
es above to find more.

  Zymse scanned the room, “Where to start?” He walked over to Lauren holding a hot brand, but as he dragged it across her side, she barely flinched. When he stuck it into Ryan, he never reacted. Zymse looked at Eric, “You are no challenge,” and then walked over to Steve, kicking him awake. “You are no better either. Seriously, I was expecting so much more from everyone. I figure you owe me five hundred hours—one for each hour that I had to suffer when I watched that damn dwarf saga.” Then he pointed to the wolf head, “Now, Zack, he was incredible. I beat the crap out of him for weeks straight, and he never gave up. The fights were just spectacular! And his drive. Even when I would tie him up, he would chew through his own legs to get at me. His anger was inspiring. Even after three years, his hatred of me was still growing. Then one day, not thinking, I cut off his head. The biggest mistake I ever made. Oh well, might as well start with the fresh meat,” and he turned towards the far end of the room.

  John could feel new magic flowing down, powerful magic, tasking it to increase both the size and speed of the vortex. Then he saw Zymse staring at him, “I CAN FIX THIS. I NEED MORE TIME.” He scanned the room, “Eric, do something. Steve, anybody!”

  Hearing the pleas for help, while uncertain of what John could do, Eric reached for the half-sword. The same one that Aaro said was sharp enough to slice through time, which John had pleaded for. Even though his leg may have been broken, being a legend, he knew they should not pass quietly into history locked in a cell. With the half-sword in hand, he raised himself onto his good leg, lifting the once great weapon above his head. Aiming for the large gap between the cell door and wall, he slammed what remained of the sharp edge into the chains that held his prison door closed. While slicing through time may have been an exaggeration, the poorly forged chain was no match for the superior steel born in the dwarven forge. When the chain broke into pieces, he pushed the door open

  Zymse smiled behind his black veil, “You? Oh…this is precious.” Then he watched Eric, whose face told a story of anguished pain, shuffle out of the cell.