Hunter Hunted (The Eternals Book 2)

by Richard M. Ankers

  Aurora looked on puzzled as I strode over to him and unhooked the blood bag's supports from the back of the throne.

  “Do you remember when you allowed the monks to be massacred in your courtyard, tovarisch?”

  Vladivar's eyes flicked between his guests. “Sssss,” the thing hissed.

  “So do I,” I snarled, as I ripped the tubing from his arm and threw the rig against the far wall.

  Aurora looked shocked at my outburst before inclining her elegant head. She stooped to collect the best of the blood bags from the floor, and then glided away. I followed.

  * * *

  I didn't look back. I'd seen quite enough of the thing who'd once been my mortal enemy. I was glad he would die as he deserved: badly.

  Chapter Fifteen

  -

  Bloodshot

  “Did he deserve that?” Aurora asked as we walked out into the carmine light.

  “And more.”

  “I see,” she pondered.

  “No, Aurora, you cannot.”

  “I sometimes think those most deserving are worth the least effort.”

  “I do not,” I replied.

  “Do you feel better now this Vladivar is dead?”

  I stopped, inhaled of the morning, and gazed at the ruby orb. The solar object rose into a bloodshot sky in a bittersweet parody of the blue it should've swum amongst. “No, I do not,” I said after some thought.

  “Then, killing him has achieved nothing.”

  “Au contraire, my dear girl, it has achieved much.”

  “Please explain,” Aurora insisted.

  I was about to launch into a tirade regarding her contrary attitude, but one glance at her puzzled features revealed she meant nothing other than to understand my actions. I calmed myself and made it a point not to make such harsh judgements of her. Yet a look to the sky and the smouldering wrongness of the sun somehow inflamed my passions still further.

  “He represented all that was, is, and ever has been flawed with our kind. His actions caused the deaths of some of the best men I ever knew. No, the best,” I corrected. “What Chantelle did to him was dramatic, I'll agree to that, even sick, but it was less than he deserved.”

  “And, now?”

  “Still less, but if nothing else, I feel as though I've laid the Sunyins' memory to rest.”

  “Then, I apologise for my questioning you.” Aurora inclined her head, a waterfall of milk-white satin cascading through the space between us.

  “There is no need. I am a man of dubious morals, some would say hypocritical in my reaction, but I am trying to do the right thing. It is difficult, Aurora, but I strive to be a better man. Ending that monster's life was part of a process I intend to complete.”

  “If that is so, then I am proud to be a part of it.”

  “Really,” I laughed. “Am I your new role-model, Aurora? I have never been one before, so you shall have to let me know how I do.”

  “I shall,” she stated.

  “How do I rate so far?” I asked pouncing onto the flying platform. Aurora followed and watched with amusement at my prodding of the red button; there was no response from it or the craft.

  “It is hard to say, you vary.”

  “Oh, do I now.”

  “Yes.”

  “How, may I ask?”

  Aurora stood there, tapping the craft's perimeter rail, her pale skin transfused to red, her blue eyes twin pools lost in a blood-shot ocean, considering, just considering. Twice her lips parted about to say something before she rethought her position.

  “Ah, I see you are unsure as to whether saving me from those Arctic depths was wise, or not.”

  She smiled at that.

  “That is it, that is exactly how I feel.”

  “What do you mean, that's exactly how you feel? I was being sarcastic.”

  “I think saving your life was the best thing I have ever done, yet the worst for others. Nevertheless, I should gladly do so again if required.”

  “Very reassuring,” I said. “But I can assure you, I have no intentions of ever becoming resubmerged.”

  “My brothers shall certainly think twice before casting you in.”

  “I'm sure they will.”

  “They will never forgive you for their humiliation, never forget the sleight to their statuses.”

  “I'm sure they won't.”

  “You do not seem concerned.”

  “Should I be?”

  Aurora stood and thought again before replying. “Not whilst I stand with you, Jean. I believe it would make them very foolish indeed.”

  “That is a rather certain assumption.”

  “As I told you, I am always right.”

  I said nothing, but the mischievous glint in her eye only made her porcelain beauty all the more endearing.

  * * *

  Giving the flying platform a final kick of frustration, we left Vladivar to his personal tomb and set off down the mountainside on foot. I had removed my cloak, piled as many blood bags into it as it could hold, and lofted the thing over my shoulder like a makeshift sack. Aurora had offered her assistance, but I had declined her help stating the task unbefitting of her royal status. Content in each other's company, we began our descent in a silence that did not last.

  “I dislike these steps, Jean.”

  “I thought you of all people would be used to steps.”

  “It is the drop they abut,” she said backing away from what even I considered a frightening plunge.

  “Try looking straight ahead,” I suggested. “Keep your eyes on the horizon.”

  “I have been, but I still see the valley. The Marquis' ship draws my eye.”

  “Turn away.”

  “I have tried.”

  “Does it bother you so?”

  “Yes,” came an iced reply.

  “Is it vertigo?”

  “What is vertigo?”

  “A fear of heights.”

  “This is the first time I have ever been this elevated, so I cannot be sure.”

  “You seemed all right on the flying platform.”

  “That was beyond my control, this is not.”

  Aurora huddled as close to the rock side of the stairway as possible trembling with fear. The poor girl looked petrified. So, I did the only thing I could to comfort her and offered Aurora my hand. She looked at it, then me with wide-eyed fear.

  “Take it,” I insisted. “I promise I shall not let you fall.”

  “You promise.”

  “You have my word,” I said and took her alabaster digits in my own.

  I led her away down one step at a time, all the while making quite sure to stay on her outside. That seemed to appease the princess, but not completely, so I tried another tact.

  “Tell me more of your home.”

  “I thought you hated it.”

  “I was hasty.”

  “You were not,” she replied attempting a smile.

  “Then, tell me what you like about it.”

  “I like the peace found on the ice. I like to watch the ocean and the sun burning upon its surface.”

  “Why, Aurora, why exactly?”

  “The colours, Jean, I love the colours.”

  “More so than the blues of the city walls.”

  “I hate blue. Blue is a lesser stage of black. I much prefer the ruby of the sun, how it transfuses my soul, warms me. Hvit is so stark, cold and uninviting. I would spend every waking minute in the light if mother did not forbid it.”

  “I thought you already did.”

  “Shush,” she whispered offering a finger to her lips. “That is our little secret.”

  “And, did I hear you right? Did you just say you felt its warmth?”

  “I don't really feel it, silly,” she giggled. “I imagine it.”

  “I wish I could.”

  “One day, you shall.”

  “I doubt it,” I argued.

  “You never know, it's nice to dream. In dreams, our hearts soar and minds travel
without boundary or demand.”

  “I envy you as my dreams are…disturbing. Until recently I did not dream, but now I am less certain. I do not remember them, nor can I prove I've even had them, as I thought an Eternal couldn't, but on waking, the residual terror remains. I can explain it no other way. Not so long ago, I almost perished. During the madness that ensued, I thought I dreamt of the sun, or perhaps witnessed a vision, something almost tangible, but not of this sun, a golden one. That is all I have ever wanted, Aurora, to walk in the golden light of day and feel its warmth suffuse this pallid skin. Do you know what it did?”

  “No,” Aurora said transfixed.

  “It burned.”

  “I am sorry.”

  “No need to be. If I do tread the dust between stars, those silvered pathways in the darkness, then we've just cleared one of them. My journey can only ever run smoother now Vladivar's evil is extinguished.”

  “Good,” she stated.

  “What would you dream of, Aurora? What is it that you want more than anything else?” I asked, whilst she still seemed inclined to smile rather than frown.

  “I thought you knew.”

  “I do not believe so.”

  “Why, this of course.”

  “What?”

  “Freedom. You have made my wildest dreams come true.”

  I stopped at that and looked deep into those ice-blue eyes of hers. There was no hint of jest, no sarcasm, Aurora meant every word. Rendered speechless, I continued in my escorting her down the staircase.

  “Jean,” she said as we wound around a rocky outcrop, the valley floor opening out before us like a savage wolf's maw, revealing a vicious yet blessed end to our descent.

  “Yes, Aurora.”

  “Do you trust my family?”

  “No.” I answered without a second thought.

  “Then, why would you leave your beloved with them?”

  “I had no choice.”

  “One always has a choice.”

  “Did you not have the choice to leave Hvit?” I returned like a testy child.

  “I had nowhere to go. I had never been more than a swim away from its entrance and always accompanied.”

  “I apologise, my reply was rash.”

  “You do not need to,” she smiled.

  “I have been the subject of blackmail, as you know; they wished me to murder your mother.”

  “You would not be able,” her cool riposte.

  “Able, or not, that's what my manipulators requested.”

  “I do not see why. My mother never leaves Hvit other than to hunt.”

  “Perhaps, they seek to exterminate all the Hierarchy, all those who might oppose them? Maybe they want me dead and thought I should end up so if I did as they commanded? I cared not of those things, but their threat was against Linka, so I chose to desert her in the hope those who play me will reveal themselves.”

  “Do you have any idea who they are?”

  “I didn't, although now I believe it tied to my parents' murder. Someone seeks to wipe their perceived venom from this world and me along with it.”

  “Does Walter have any idea?”

  “I have never discussed it with him. I have had no reason to.”

  “You should,” replied Aurora, releasing my hand and running her fingers through her hair. “He has much knowledge.”

  “He knows far more than he lets on, always has. I made the mistake of believing Merryweather an idiot, as he regularly acts it, but the truth is, he is far from one. I even regret having almost killed him. Such misunderstandings colour future judgements.”

  “You tried to kill him?” Aurora looked shocked. “I presumed you spoke metaphorically.”

  “He deceived me, dear girl, still is, I believe.”

  “How?”

  “I left him strung up ready to be turned to ash by the sun, but as you can guess it did not work out that way.”

  “My mother claimed only we Nordics held the truth about the sun. I always thought she exaggerated.”

  “She did not. I wasted far too many years of my life blissfully unaware of that salient detail. I cowered in the dark when I could have lived in the light.”

  “That is a shame, Jean,” she said, as we made the bottom of the staircase and stepped onto the dusty valley floor.

  “More than you could ever imagine,” I replied.

  “Should we examine the Marquis' ship?” Aurora asked pointing to the grottier than normal mobile blood bank.

  The craft was almost unrecognisable covered in the loose dusts of the valley floor its metallic sheen dampened to a dull grey. It looked less magnificent when not reflecting the cosmos.

  “He would be long gone if he saw me descending the mountain. I think it best we move on.”

  “Does he fear you so?” Aurora asked.

  “I'm glad to say he does, and he has every right to. I shall kill him, Aurora, you do realise that don't you? I shall kill them all.”

  “Yes,” her succinct answer.

  “Good, I'm glad we understand each other. Anyway, less doom and gloom, and back to business. Now we've got you down safe and sound, I think it best we hurry. I cannot be certain how far ahead our adversaries are, but judging by the tracks in the ground I would surmise they are on horseback. We are not.”

  “Indeed,” Aurora replied in all seriousness.

  “And it looks like Walter was telling the truth. Look, in the dirt, cart tracks.” I pointed to the unmistakable ridges left by at least one heavy, wheeled object.

  “Will they all be on horseback, do you think?”

  “The Marquis will that's for sure. He wouldn't make it out of the valley otherwise.”

  “Are there no horses for us?”

  “I have no idea where to look if there are. Vladivar once attacked me in a craft the size of a palace. If he could conceal that behemoth without my seeing it, I don't suppose horses would be a problem.”

  “Technology can amaze if you understand it.”

  “Do you understand it?” I asked.

  “No,” she laughed, the valley echoing to her tinkling tones.

  “I suspect that for all the Marquis' technological trickery, he depends on Sunyin sniffing out his kin. I believe the old monk is essential to locating his sons, but that he can only do so if in close contact to where they've passed. He senses their presence, their thoughts if you will. The Sunyins are interlinked, in many ways a single entity. I have borne witness to it on numerous occasions. The old monk would sooner die than seek them intentionally, but in his current enfeebled state, he wouldn't even realise he was doing it.”

  “You admire him greatly, don't you.”

  “If it comes to it, Aurora, I admire him enough to die for him.”

  “But what of Linka if that was to happen?”

  “Let us hope it doesn't,” I replied in upbeat fashion. “I have no intention of succumbing to the Marquis, less so to Chantelle, and even less than that to Raphael Santini bastard that he is. Excuse my language.”

  “Then, might I make a suggestion?” Aurora said without batting an eye.

  “Of course.”

  “We should run. If they believe what you say about the sun, they will not have got too far ahead. The sun is up therefore they must be sleeping.”

  “I like your thinking.”

  “Thank you,” she said, looking very pleased with herself.

  Bu by then, I was already twenty yards ahead.

  * * *

  We sped across the valley floor, I with the bags of blood bashing off my back, Aurora keeping pace with annoying elegance and ease. We ran without words, both lost to our thoughts. In a strange way, I enjoyed those hours. The company I kept was perfect; Aurora was honest, and quiet, two of my favourite qualities. I couldn't have asked for a better person to be with even if it not for a reason of my choosing.

  The sun had long past its zenith, no more than a winking eye atop the western peaks, when I realised the light to have lessened. The shimmering spectre
of Aurora's passage grew brighter and more awe inspiring with each incremental fading of ruby to black. Every glance to her became a bedazzling mixture of grace and terror for the set of her eyes was one of intensity. If ever she tired, she did not show it. If she sought to complain, she did not voice it. Aurora was a hunter on the hunt, a predator par excellence and born to it.

  “Does it feel good to stretch your legs, dear girl?” I asked the ghost at my side.

  “Unbelievably.”

  “Then why so quiet?”

  “I'm savouring the moment.”

  “Which one?” I quipped as a grin swept over the far side of my face.

  “Every one.”

  “Touché, my dear.”

  “But, I would appreciate a pause if we could.”

  “Of course, you only needed to say.” I slowed to a steadying halt, placed my cloak on the floor, passed a bag of blood to Aurora, then took one for myself. “Are you tiring?”

  “No.”

  “Thirsty?”

  “Not really.”

  “Then, why stop?”

  “I wondered what it would be like to see that smile span both sides of your face.”

  It took a moment to realise what she alluded to, but when I did, I could do nothing except break into the beam she desired.

  “Is that not better?” she winked.

  “You shouldn't do that, you know.”

  “Do what?”

  “Wink at old men.”

  “We're about the same age, and I don't believe I did.”

  “You certainly did, young lady.”

  “You shouldn't do that, you know.”

  “Do what?”

  “Joke flirtatiously with young women, especially princesses.”

  “I wasn't, it's my natural charm.”

  “Does it work?”

  “When required.”

  “Is that often?”

  “Not any more, I've retired it on all but Linka, and even then, I only use it to antagonise her.”

  “Is that what love does to people?” Aurora asked, cocking her head to one side inquisitively.

  “It affects everybody differently.”

  “I wouldn't know.”

  “I shouldn't let it disturb you. Love is overrated. So many people think themselves to be party to it when in fact they lust over minor infatuations.”

  “You understand such things?”