The Destroyer Book 3

by Michael-Scott Earle

  I let out a long breath and cradled his body before it hit the stone floor. He wasn't the first of my kin I had been forced to kill. But the others had been in self-defense, or at least, I justified my actions because my capture meant death. But this was murder and I could not fool myself into thinking otherwise. Regret filled my heart like a sick tidal wave. I had agonized over this decision for many days but I knew this outcome was still wrong. Unfortunately, I didn't have the imagination to think of a better way to free her. Was Iolarathe's life worth more than one of my people?

  I had already proven to myself that it was, since Shlara was dead.

  I cradled Fenzan's limp body in my right arm and grabbed the set of keys with my left. A few paces behind the table was another wood door that led to the cells. I found the key quickly and opened the door. The hinges on this one creaked, but I had expected as much.

  The dungeon had a simple layout. Three floors of about a hundred yards on each level. At the end of each hallway, a set of stairs led down to the next floor. Only a quarter of the torches lit the walls, Fenzan explained to me that the prisoners were given food and water in the morning. If this was true, I had about five hours before anyone would notice something was amiss.

  I passed a few cells housing sleeping prisoners. Even carrying the weight of Fenzan’s body, I moved silently, and had no fear of waking them. My cloak covered my face, so if one of the captives saw me, they would not be able to make out my features.

  The stench of shit, piss, vomit, and death filled my nose as I dug deeper into the dungeon. The bottom floor held their Elven prisoners, who were given little attention and often left to starve as a punishment. There were about ten of them locked in cramped cells. The first time I had been down here I acted like I expected a young stable boy to behave, forcing myself to gasp and gag. The smell was horrible, but I had experienced much worse after a battle. I lay Fenzan's corpse at the end of the hallway and began trying the assortment of keys on the massive steel door of Iolarathe's cell.

  The third key I tried worked and the gray steel door moved open with a gentle push. The torches on the wall behind me did little to illuminate the inside of the cell, but my eyes could see in almost complete darkness. Crouched in the corner opposite the door was a figure clothed in a dirty sheet with one arm shackled to the wall.

  "Do not speak." I pulled on her shoulder to turn her toward me. Her face was covered with dirt and mud but her eyes shone with animal intensity. Her unchained arm lashed out at my face but I grabbed it with my other hand. The blow should have been strong enough to knock me over, but her strength was little more than that of a normal human.

  "Look at me. Look at me. Look at me," I said until her eyes seemed to register my face. She stopped struggling and gasped. Her silver eyes grew in size and her mouth opened in complete shock.

  "Do not speak," I whispered again and she nodded.

  Then I moved to her shackle and tried the keys, there were twenty on the ring but none of them worked. I guessed that would be the case, so I pulled out my lock picks, inserted the tension tool, and scraped the curved pick across the teeth of the lock. My advanced sense made the task easy since I could feel and hear the pins' tiny movements. In half a minute, the lock was defeated and I had released the shackle on Iolarathe's wrist. I should have picked the lock to start.

  I helped her stand and her hand ran over my shoulder, finally squeezing along my bicep. The contact was electrifying and I resisted the urge to take her in my arms and kiss her. I needed to stay focused on the next few parts of my mission or all could be lost. As soon as we exited her cell I picked up Fenzan's body and moved it into her place, even clasping his dead wrist into the shackle. Then I locked the door behind us and led her across the dungeon floor and up the flights of stairs.

  I hung up the key ring by the table and pulled out the extra cloak and the jug of spiced wine from my pack. I gave Iolarathe the cloak and she donned it carefully. Then I uncorked the strong smelling wine and poured it over the small bloodstain on the stone tiles, over the chair, and over the table. I left the bottle tipped over on the table, dripping slightly onto the stone. If my luck continued to hold, the guard relieving Fenzan in the morning would think that he got drunk and abandoned his shift.

  Iolarathe inhaled deeply once we stepped outside of the dungeon. I pointed toward the back wall, away from the front gate, and she followed me in that direction. To reach the top of the wall, the wardens climbed straight stairs that attached to the stone barrier on the right, but were open to the courtyard on the left. The stairway we took was the least exposed, but we could still be seen from two of the warden’s posts should they choose to look into the courtyard. The steps led right up to another station, and I heard guards chatting at the top about a dice game.

  I motioned for Iolarathe to stay at the foot of the stairs and I pulled out two darts from the pouch attached to my belt. The tips were doused with a strong paralyzing poison that would knock out any human quickly. I had another half dozen with a different type of drug for O'Baarni, but a human exposed to the toxin would die in a few seconds.

  "So she sits back in her chair all coy like, fluttering her eyelashes at me," one of the guards said from above me.

  "Then what?" another voice asked.

  "I took a swig of drink and then rolled."

  "And?"

  "Snake eyes!" he shouted. His voice echoed across the courtyard and I pulled myself down the stairs to avoid anyone looking in this direction. My heart jumped in my chest and I forced myself to calm. The night was dark, and the fires on top of the wall did not bring enough light to reveal my presence on the shadowed stairs, even for an O'Baarni.

  "No shit! Did she let you fuck her?"

  "That was the deal wasn't it? I bent her right over the dice table."

  "Damn. Lucky roll."

  "I used loaded dice. Wasn't that much luck involved." The two men howled and I moved up the steps a bit, glancing across the courtyard to the other posts on the wall that could see me. The other guards were not looking, so I crept up the stairs and peered over the edge of the stone rail. My two targets warmed their hands around the fire and faced out toward the city with their backs to me.

  If I was alone I could have sprung over the wall and disappeared over the other ledge with no sound or detectable movement. I imagined Iolarathe would have been able to do the same if she was fit, but I didn't want to risk such a maneuver with her now. She had leaned on me during most of our walk up the dungeon stairs, and if she were seen, the entire force of the city would be looking for us.

  I tossed the darts out with one practiced throw. Both of them sunk into the target's butt cheeks and the humans slumped to the floor almost instantly. I didn't actually think that the poison would work so quickly and I realized that I may have put too much of the liquid on the tips of the darts. I moved to their bodies, yanked out the darts, and then leaned them up against one of the stone blocks on the barricade so that they sat out of view. Then I looked down the stairs and motioned for Iolarathe.

  She crept up on all fours, stopping fifteen feet from the top and then jumped up the remainder of the length of the vertical wall so she remained out of the light of the fire. I moved over to meet her and motioned for her to wait a few seconds. After they passed, and I hadn't heard a guard raise an alarm, I started to believe that we would actually escape.

  It was an eighty-foot drop to the street below, it was a fall I could make with no damage, but I doubted an Elven could, especially one who had been weakened by malnutrition and whatever other horrors she had endured in the dungeons. I gestured for Iolarathe to wrap her arms around my shoulders and she did without question. Then my hands searched for the first holds on the edge of the wall before I lowered us down the edge quietly.

  I listened again once we reached the bottom. Still no call of alert from the walls so we walked through the city streets toward the inn. We walked slowly, like normal people would stroll through the street on their way home from a
party. I even shared the avenue with a warden patrol that moved in the opposite direction, nodding my cloaked head at them while they bid us good evening. The leisurely pace did little to relax my mind. The whole ordeal seemed too easy. Granted, I had been lucky to wake up tonight, walk around the barrack wall, and overhear the plans for Iolarathe tomorrow morning. But I was beginning to think that my generals really had not drawn a correlation between Shlara's death, the Elven woman at my side, and my escape. Perhaps time had healed their imagined betrayal and the previous group of hunters would actually be the last to attempt to capture me.

  We made it to the street that contained the inn and I looped the large building, listening for any sound out of the ordinary from inside the building. I sensed nothing out of place, so we ducked through the doorway and into the warm common room. A fire had been lit in the back kitchen and I smelled the robust scent of a beef roast simmering in a broth of onions, carrots, and parsnips. This was one of the more expensive inns of Shlara's Rest, but the food was delicious, the beds were clean, and the owner didn't ask many questions. Iolarathe waited in the shadows as I walked around the kitchen counter and filled two bowls with the stew, placing them on the serving tray the owner's wife would use to deliver an ordered breakfast. Then I placed four loaves of yesterday's bread and a pitcher of water on the tray before motioning for her to follow me and moving up the stairs.

  Each time in our journey from the dungeon that I had been forced to let go of her had been physically painful. After the years we had spent apart, I wanted nothing more than to hold her, feel her skin and hair, and experience the incredible sensation that came when we touched. I never wanted to let her go again. I never would. Being so near her like this and unable to touch her took all of my concentration and discipline.

  I paused outside my room and used my ears and nose to sense anything unusual. Still nothing. I unlocked my door. The room was as I had left it; I closed the door, locked it, and then let out a sigh of relief. The first part of the escape was completed.

  The next part would be more difficult. Now we would have to wait two days before making it to the Sea Dog. Between now and then, the guards could put the city on lock down and begin searching for us. They couldn't scent track us through the street since there would be too many people walking around come the morning, but they would look at the inns first, and then the abandoned buildings. I needed a backup plan to get to the ship now that we had a few days of pressure.

  I set the tray down and motioned to her not to talk by putting my finger to my lips and shaking my head. If there were another O’Baarni in the building, he or she could hear any of our words, even those most softly whispered. She nodded in understanding and I drew her body to mine and buried my head in her hair. She was covered in dirt and dried blood from her stay in the dungeon, but I didn’t care. It was still her and I held her close to me and ran my hands over her body. She felt the same, though thinner, and the pleasure of feeling her again pulsed through me in waves. She pushed herself as close to me as she could, forcing us even closer than my tight hold. She inhaled deeply, eyes closed. We stayed like that for some time, finally the sharp angles of her bones reminded me she was probably starving and I broke our embrace and pointed to the tray of food. She nodded and sat down in front of the food.

  I had a book of clean paper, a vial of ink, and quill I used to make notes of the escape. I had burned my notes every night after I committed the musings to memory. While Iolarathe tore into the bread and stew, I wrote down my plan for our escape on the parchment. When she had finished eating both bowls, the bread, and water I passed her the writings and motioned that I would bring her more. She nodded and smiled gratefully as I opened the door to leave. I did not want to leave her, but she needed to eat, and she was safer in my room than out in the inn where she could be seen. Even dirty and covered in a cloak, she was striking, obviously an Elven and remarkably beautiful. Her bright hair was dulled with grime but still longer and a more interesting color than any of the humans roaming the city. If seen she would be remembered. I almost couldn't believe that she was finally here in front of me. I wanted to hear her voice more than anything, but I knew it would be a risk. I didn't want to take any risks at this point.

  The innkeeper bustled in the kitchen and I did my best to make enough noise walking down the stairs so that I didn't startle him.

  "Good evening, lad. Couldn't sleep?" His name was Tuirp and he had a thick head of graying hair and a neatly trimmed beard to match. He looked like he could have been a soldier in my army, but I saw no power about him when he moved and his belly betrayed a love for his wife’s baking.

  "No sir. Put in a lot of work yesterday and I've found myself extremely hungry. Can I trouble you for some more of that meat and perhaps some more bread?" I forced a smile to my lips. I wanted to be back in the room with Iolarathe but the expression on her face when she ate confirmed my fear that they may not have given her much sustenance in the last few weeks.

  "Sure thing, Wesn. Where did you say you were working?" His question was polite and I realized his memory wasn't that great. I had introduced myself to him as Neas. Wesn was another tenant of the inn. But I was glad he did not remember me.

  "One of the smiths down the road. His apprentice is moving to journeyman status. Which reminds me, I'll only need the room for two more days, and then I'll be staying with him. I think I am paid up till that time?"

  He nodded while he spooned me more of the stew, threw on a couple of rolls of bread, butter, a few un-cracked eggs, and another pitcher of water. I had the name of a smithy down the road incase Tuirp asked about the master's identity, but the innkeeper didn't seem particularly curious this night.

  "I'll be sad to see ya go, lad. You are a nice boy, paid up front and kept your room clean."

  "It was a pleasure; I'll see you tomorrow for breakfast. I'll take it downstairs again." He nodded and I hurried up the stairs back to the room.

  By the time I returned to Iolarathe she had finished reading my plan and sat with her eyes closed in the room's only chair. I handed her a roll of bread and she nibbled on it while she read the words again. She seemed upset but I did not understand why. I stroked the graceful curve of her neck while she was looking down at the page. I remembered that touching her had felt wonderful, but my memories had not done the experience justice. I was almost overwhelmed with the feeling of her skin beneath my fingers. Just this slight touch sent waves of pleasure through my body and I wanted to make love to her more than I had wanted anything in my life. I feared making too much noise, or hurting her in her weakened state. I knew if I even kissed her now I would not be able to restrain myself, so I resisted more than the gentlest touch. She reached up and held my hand to her cheek and closed her eyes, inhaling softly. Finally, she looked at me, gave me a ghost of a smile, and began to write on the blank pages of the book.

  "We cannot leave in two days," she wrote and then turned the paper so I might see. I gave her a puzzled look and she continued to write, "Malek has an artifact I need. It is being kept in one of his vaults in his estate."

  I moved my hand from her neck and took the quill from her and wrote: "The Ovule?"

  She looked surprised and nodded. Then she replied: "You know they power our Radicles?"

  I nodded and went to take the quill, but she continued: "For Elvens. For our kind. O'Baarni don't need them if they are powerful enough."

  She handed me the feather and I scribbled: "The Elven elder at that temple explained it. He said you were with someone?" She nodded and I wrote: "Who?"

  She took back the book and looked at what I had written for a few seconds longer than it should have taken her to read it. Our eyes met and hers were bright, glowing like quicksilver even in the dim light filtering into the room from the street lamp below. Icy panic shot through my spine and I had to hold onto the bed post nearby to steady myself. I no longer knew what I wanted the truth to be. I did not know if I feared finding out we did indeed have a daughter, or that we
did not.

  She frowned and then wrote slowly, as if each word was painful. I wondered suddenly if they had injured her hand while torturing her.

  Finally, she showed me the words and I understood why she had written with such difficulty.

  "Our daughter. If we do not get an Ovule, she will die."

  Chapter 20-Kaiyer

  My head hurt. It was the familiar headache that seemed to occur after one of my blackouts. I struggled to open my eyes and when I finally separated the lids, the light from the midday sun almost blinded me. Then I realized that it wasn't just my skull that ached, my entire body felt as if Thayer had beaten me unconscious.

  "Fuck!" I spat the word out. The scent of my blood filled my nostrils and my mouth tasted of the coppery liquid mixed with mud. I looked around and my movement scattered twenty crows that had been feasting on the pile of corpses fifty feet from me. I struggled to my feet and collapsed back onto my knees. My head spun like a tornado and I felt as if I would vomit. I made myself relax and pulled the Earth into me. Its warm presence forced the aches and nausea to flee like the crows.

  Where the fuck was I?

  Where was Iolarathe?

  We had a daughter. The Elven elder was correct. Thousands of questions filled my mind and I tried to remember if I had ever gotten any answers from Iolarathe. But my memory was failing me again and I didn't even know if I had ever met our child. Did she look like me? The elder said she had my eyes. Did she have Iolarathe's hair? For a while I sat on my knees and thought about what had been; what could have been, and what I had probably never known.

  A crow landed on my shoulder and startled me from my memories. How long had I been sitting here? I looked around and noticed that the sun had set and the sky was in the later stages of a dark purple dusk. More of the black birds had gathered on the bodies. Rocks and logs circled a fire pit with a lidded pot placed on the ashes. I breathed deeply and mixed the scent of death with the ashes of the fire and the algae from the pond nearby. I shivered and pulled more Earth into me.