Void Born

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Void Born Page 24

by R. J. Metcalf


  Marius looked at each of them, concern growing in his face. Raine waved a hand and started signing once Marius made eye contact with her.

  Finn stroked his beard, eyes stormy with thoughts raging inside. “I think that’s our best plan. Geist, run to the Phoenix. Warn them. Tell them to be on guard, and bring a few more fighters here.” His gaze flicked up to the plateau. “We can’t let them leave this area with that stone.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Christopher

  Hatred pulsed through Christopher as he watched Andrew’s blood slow to a trickle. Not once had Victor or Lucio mentioned it would take one of them to die for this. Not even a hint. How very Elph-like of Lucio, treating humans as nothing more than fodder. He’d hoped that Victor would have been different, at least saying something to warn them of this. Or maybe Lucio hadn’t told Victor this was his plan all along. No wonder Lucio had such a fascination with Void Born.

  The stone’s glow had dimmed, no longer casting shadows on Lucio’s face as he hovered over the ritual, his concentration focused.

  Deidre nudged Christopher, and he shot her a sharp look before a small pang hit his heart at her glassy eyes and trembling hands. She nodded to the sky. He glanced up. The stars had faded under the lightening rays of the morning sun. Christopher’s pulse quickened, but this time for a different reason than anger.

  The missing patrol would be noticed soon, if it hadn’t already. As well as never saying what it would take to renew the bloodstone, Lucio had never said how long it would take. Would it be another hour? A day?

  Christopher squatted, cautious to not touch the circular stone or anything close to it. The bloodstone’s flecks looked brighter than before, and the black glossier. His eyes slowly widened. For how much Andrew bled, the fist-sized stone should have been below a sea of blood. But he could see the rock. He leaned closer and almost fell against the sacrificial altar in surprise. The bloodstone was absorbing the blood. He recoiled. How much blood had that thing already taken in, if this ritual was to merely restore it?

  The last traces of blood vanished into the bloodstone, and Lucio blinked out of the trance-like state of concentration. He knelt, examining the bloodstone without touching it. “Good. Your comrade was undoubtedly a Void Born. This wouldn’t have worked otherwise.”

  Deidre’s voice sounded strangled, and higher pitched than usual. “You killed him without even knowing if it would work?”

  Lucio glanced up. “Well, I knew it would work if he was really a Void Born like Victor said he was.” He plucked the clean stone from what Christopher could now see was a well stained with ancient blood. “But it’s possible to lie, you know.”

  Christopher clenched his hands, forcing himself to take deep breaths. Phase one was complete. Albeit through a different way than he’d anticipated, but it was done. Please let it be done right.

  Lucio held up the stone, examining it in the morning’s beginning glow. A slow smile spread across his face as he pocketed the rock. “Let’s get the other one and go.” He tilted his face up to the morning light with a frown. “They probably know we’re up here by now. We should be prepared for some poorly contrived ambush or attack on our way down.” He hummed a jaunty tune. “Next stop, Madrilla Island. And the barrier.”

  Christopher met Deidre’s blazing eyes. And then we can kill Lucio.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Ben

  Geist bounced his weight from foot to foot beside Ben, his eyes glued to the packed dirt path. Ben scooted a few inches back to avoid being jostled again by Geist’s sheath. Brandon stood on the other side of Ben, stock still, clenching his sword hilt, the morning light giving away the madness dancing in his eyes.

  Ben looked back at the path and shivered. Just his luck that he got to be sandwiched by the adrenaline junkie and the ex-berserker. He glanced over his left shoulder. Raine raised an eyebrow at him, and Ben hid his grin. Then again, I’m good where I am.

  A crunch of gravel behind them announced company. Finn sidled up next to Raine, the shadow of the building they were hiding by adding depth to Finn’s worry lines.

  “You three are ready?” Finn asked lowly.

  Ben nodded, his voice just as quiet. “Kerlee, Roska, and Ezekial are on the other side.” He pointed across the open road to the next closest building. “Where are you going to be?” Ben craned his neck to look past Finn. “And did everyone evacuate?”

  “It took some convincing, but Marius agreed to move his people into the woods. I wanted him to be closer to the Phoenix so we could better protect them.” Finn shrugged. “They’re close enough. I’ll take what I can get.”

  “Where will you be, Papa?” Raine rested her hand on Finn’s arm, her eyes serious. “Don’t overdo it.”

  Finn patted her fingers, and a smile momentarily brightened his eyes. “I’ll do my best.” He hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll be front and center, hopefully drawing Lucio’s attention. Roska and Kerlee will be nearby. I’ll be fine.” He brushed a kiss against Raine’s forehead. “Be safe.”

  Raine clenched her jaw as Finn retreated to take his place. She danced her fingers up and down her sword hilt, a line forming between her eyes.

  Ben reached out, brushing the back of her hand. “Hey, we got this.”

  She shot him a smile that looked more like a grimace, then snapped her head toward the path as a pebble rolled down.

  Geist stiffened. He looked up, his eyes distant while he focused. “They’re coming.”

  Ben drew his sword as quietly as he could, then leaned over to Raine. “Just how ugly is this going to get with all the magic users here?”

  Raine’s eyebrows shot up. “We have one hothead sage and Papa, and they have a sage who somehow survived erecting the barrier.” Her lips pursed. “Anything can happen. Stay out of the sage’s way as much as possible.”

  Great.

  Ben’s knuckles cracked as he tightened his grip on his sword. He consciously relaxed, breathing out through his mouth, focused on the bend in the path.

  The clop of hooves on dry ground preceded the head of the chestnut horse, and a moment later the muscular rider was visible, too.

  Brandon shot forward with a soul-trembling yell. Geist scrambled after him with a blistering oath.

  The rider reared his horse back. “Ambush!”

  A woman on horseback came flying around the corner, and she swung her sword down at Brandon. He jumped back, barely dodging in time. She nudged her horse to go faster with a squeeze of her knees and raced toward the center of the village. Brandon’s face contorted in a snarl, and he gave chase.

  Ezekial ran forward and lobbed a fireball at the mounted brunet man. Roska and Kerlee followed just behind the Perennian sage. The man swung his sword at the ball of flame, and it exploded in a rain of fiery embers and sparks. Dry grass next to him flared. His horse spooked and galloped straight at Raine and Ben.

  Ben wrenched himself to the side, hitting the wood slatted wall of the neighboring home with his shoulder. His entire arm tingled from the impact. The horse loosed a ghastly shriek that raised the hairs on the back of Ben’s neck, and he pushed away from the building, his pulse thundering in his ears.

  Raine braced her back against the building they’d originally waited by, blood dripping off her sword. The horse hobbled just beyond, its armless rider smacking its rump as it limped around the building, aiming for the center of the village.

  Geist and Kerlee skidded up to Ben and Raine. “We’ll go after him.” Geist used the tip of his sword to point up the hill. “Keep an eye out for Lucio and Victor. We haven’t seen either of them yet.”

  Raine nodded, her eyes narrowed. Black smoke billowed on the morning air as the building closest to the brush caught fire. She coughed and darted forward, angling for the pathway.

  Loose rocks and gravel slid under Ben’s boots as he ran after her, his eyes burning from the smoke. Sweat dribbled down his back as the fire washed away all the cool morning air.

 
Finn joined him. “He can’t still be up there,” Finn gasped out. “Where is he?”

  Heart thumping a rhythm of determination in his veins, Ben could only nod. They would surely have the bloodstone now. They had to find Victor and Lucio.

  Screams cut through Ben’s nerves, and he spun on his heel to face the trees. People ran out from the cover of the thicket, their faces painted in terror as some helped drag bloodied and limping friends. What the—

  Dragons poured out of the woods.

  Plodders with plates running down their backs stomped after terrorized families. Huge, furred dragons with bony crests roared and head-butted whatever they could reach, and yet more people loosed their own shrieks as something invisible tore into them. Ben’s blood ran cold. Stalkers.

  “Whales of the Void,” Raine swore.

  Alarms rang from the Phoenix, which rested on the edge of the forest, and crew members boiled out, rushing to meet the new threat head on. A teenaged boy sprinted toward them, the jagged teeth of a stalker snapping just behind him. Ben charged back down the hill, raising his sword.

  Hopefully he’d had enough practice sparring with Raine to be useful in a fight against dragons. His lungs protested the lack of oxygen in the air, and his throat burned, but he pushed himself to run faster. He couldn’t be too late. Wouldn’t be too late.

  Ben ran toward the dragon. Gigantic claws slashed at the youth, and Ben yelled. The creature’s attention shifted. Foul breath washed over Ben as the creature snapped at him. Ben slashed up with his blade. Blood sprayed on Ben’s face. He staggered and swiped the warm stickiness from his eyes. Raine slid in front of him, her blade slicing the opposite direction on the stalker’s chest. It gave a rasping gurgle, lurching, biting at the air before it collapsed.

  Raine turned to give Ben a once-over before calling out, “Papa, what now?”

  People ran every which way, some stumbling through the vegetable fields and tripping on plants before plodders ran through, stepping on the villagers. Stalkers flickered in and out of view, snatching at people, leaving a trail of fallen, bloodied bodies. Light warped as phantoms ran loose. Ben’s heart seized in his chest. Help the innocent lives here and risk Lucio and Victor escaping with the bloodstone? Or leave these people to die and hunt down the two men?

  Finn’s face was a study of conflict and grief. A child’s cry cut short, and Finn’s eyes closed, tears running down his cheeks, disappearing into his beard. He looked up the path, but no one came down.

  “Papa?”

  Finn’s eyes snapped open, and he held his hand out at the burning buildings. Fire warped from the building as if it was a rope, weaving through the air to Finn’s hand, where it roiled, an angry ball of deadly heat. Finn snapped his wrist and hurled the flames at a seeker stalking a woman. “Keep an eye out for Lucio,” he yelled as he skidded down the hill, dust billowing up behind him. “We can’t let him escape.”

  Ben followed Finn into the throes of chaos in the field surrounding the village. Barely visible through the hazy smoke, Ben could just make out Brandon’s distinctive red sword raised against another blade. Brandon’s opponent was too sturdy to be Victor. Ben glanced back, noting the bodies of the woman and man that they’d seen first. Maybe Lucio hadn’t gotten away after all.

  But where was Victor?

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Christopher

  “I don’t know what to recommend, sir,” Christopher ground out, staring down the hill as his horse nickered and sidestepped nervously. “There’s no way out but the way we came up.”

  “We’ll go out that way,” Lucio replied, his voice calm and smug. “Just wait for the opportune moment. Now, I need to concentrate.” He patted his horse and closed his eyes. “Lead us out.”

  Christopher shook his head. The opportune moment for what? Getting caught and killed? Deirdre and Derrick wouldn’t last long by themselves. It was over for them, unless Lucio could somehow provide a miracle.

  Flames licked the sky from just around the bend, and thick, choking smoke rolled up the path. Lucio didn’t stir, his hand reaching out toward the wood, his fingers clawed. Unearthly shouts and screams resounded from the trees, and Christopher’s eyes widened as people stumbled out, several of them bleeding. Dragons spilled out of the woods.

  Opportune moment, indeed.

  The sound of battle right below faded, moving out to meet the new threat. Christopher grabbed the reins for Lucio’s horse and led them down the path.

  He edged as close to the burning building as he dared, heat licking at their faces. He blinked rapidly to keep his eyes moist enough to see. A walkway between vegetable fields caught his attention, and he angled toward it, steeling his heart against the not-quite screams of the panicked villagers. It didn’t matter what his superiors back home said. No matter how horrible and selfish the people of southern Terrene were, human or not, deaf or not, these villagers deserved better than this.

  Unlike Void Born like himself, these people had souls.

  A mother held her child, running toward a bearded swordsman and a black-haired woman. The guttural cry of a man to his left sliced through Christopher’s thin emotional armor. He looked away, his stomach roiling. He leaned over his horse’s neck, begging the horse to go faster.

  For the greater good. This is for the greater good. This is what I was trained for.

  A fresh breeze cleared the smoke away, revealing the path fully for Christopher. One of the men fighting the dragons turned at that moment, catching sight of Christopher and Lucio. Christopher gritted his teeth. Lucio’s eyes were still closed, focused on keeping the dragons under his control.

  The man yelled, charging at Christopher. His eyes widened. It was the blond from the citadel in Doldra, the bandit prince. Christopher’s palms itched with the desire to battle. For being a soldier, he’d barely had the opportunity to really fight. He’d had too many losses today, and it was time to let out some steam.

  And for a chance to kill the rightful prince of Doldra? Nothing would be sweeter.

  He slid off his horse and smacked the rump of Lucio’s horse. The animal shot forward, Christopher’s mare following a moment later.

  Then Brandon was there, his crimson sword cleaving through the air at Christopher’s face. Christopher parried the blow, pushing back. Brandon swung again, his eyes wild. Christopher slapped the blade to the side, dancing back just enough to be missed.

  “Where are you from?” Brandon snarled.

  Christopher stepped back again, smirking. “Tastow.”

  Confusion brought Brandon’s brows together, and Christopher used that distraction to kick out at Brandon’s knee. He staggered back.

  A shrill cry pierced the haze of battle, drawing both their attention. Christopher’s breath froze in his lungs. A child who couldn’t be more than three cried, running on stubby legs away from a plodder.

  Brandon broke from Christopher. “Whales, no!” He rushed out.

  Christopher narrowed his eyes at the man’s back and followed. No human ruler would risk their life for an Elph child. If the prince thought false pity would mean he could escape this battle, he was in for a surprise.

  Brandon skidded alongside the child, pushing the kid behind him. The little one fell on his rear in the churned mud and the prince hacked at the neck of the beast, heedless of the spray of blood.

  Christopher raised his blade, running to the blond bandit. Brandon’s eyes widened, and he turned his back, shielding the child even as he raised his crimson blade to protect the two of them.

  Confusion halted Christopher’s momentum. He lowered his sword, staring.

  This man would give his life for a child he didn’t know? This human prince would sacrifice for an Elph child?

  No Elph back home would even consider such a ludicrous idea as to sacrifice themselves for a human. Elph life was much more valuable. And humans only protected Elph life because of the blood-bond forcing them to.

  But this prince, he wasn’t blood-bonded. He had none
of the tattoos. Brandon stood slowly, his hand still touching the child behind him, his sword held defensively between them and Christopher.

  He didn’t know what to think. But the tide of the battle was shifting. Soon he’d run the risk of being caught. He had to catch up to Lucio. It was time to go.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Ben

  Ben swayed in place as he watched the dragons turn tail and flee into the forest. Magic. It had to be. Whatever had pulled them out of the woods and against the people had let go of the creatures, and now they were leaving.

  “Help me get the wounded to Papa!” Raine called out to Ben. She dropped to her knees, scrubbed her blade against the grass, sheathed it, then hooked her hands under a prone woman.

  Ben followed Raine’s lead on sword care and hurried to her side. Blood oozed from a stump halfway down the woman’s thigh. Ben unwrapped the torn, ornamental scarf from around her neck as quickly as he could, fashioning a bandage around her leg. She groaned, her legs twitching as he tightened the fabric.

  “It won’t help for long, but if it keeps any of her blood in, it’s worth it,” Ben muttered to Raine as he worked.

  She touched his back. “Good thinking.” She scanned the field around them, and her voice shook. “So many. There’s just so many.”

  Ben’s fingers slipped on the knot, and he fumbled with the thin material. “We’ve done what we can.” He glanced to where he’d last seen Brandon. “I think Lucio escaped.”

  “I know.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “He knew we would defend the defenseless, and he exploited it.”

  “We’ll find him again,” Ben assured her, even as doubt curdled in his stomach. How long had it taken for them to find Victor and Lucio this time? And when they did find him, it was too late? That would be a worry for later. For now, their priority had to be the victims. “She’s ready to move.”

 

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