The Rift Walker

by Clay Griffith

  After making a second inspection of the reeking battlefield and the piles of burned vampire cadavers, Adele wandered toward the edge of the ravine. Thick pockets of clouds filled the great crevasse, moving swiftly like the water of a swollen river pushed along by fierce winds. She couldn't see across it, much less to the bottom. The winds battered her, and she forcefully steadied herself against its savage breath as though it were the enemy.

  He was gone.

  She had killed him.

  Tears burned down her chilled face, but no sob escaped her lips as she stared out across the darkening Mountains of the Moon. Shaking, she sat down to ease the sudden weakness in her legs. She knew that she might never find him, his body unrecognizable even to her.

  I'm so sorry, Gareth.

  She could hear him comment dryly that she had done what she had to do to save her people. He was always so damn selfless, caring more about her than about his own kind. He would never be angry with her for surviving. Still, none of that eased the howling pain in her heart.

  Booted feet appeared beside her and she looked up expectantly, but Colonel Anhalt's gaze held only concern and alarm. He probably thought she might step off the edge into eternity. All the grief in the world would not propel her from her duty, even though such resolve came at a high price.

  “Have no fear, Colonel. I will not do something foolish.” She brushed the wildly blowing strands of her hair away from her face.

  “Of course not, Your Highness. You are far stronger than that.”

  Fresh tears fell at the hollow compliment. “I don't feel strong.”

  “No one could do what you did today and be called weak.” Anhalt's hand rested on her shoulder. “If your Greyfriar were here, we would have found him. He is most likely safe down the mountain, worrying about you.”

  Adele couldn't tell him that was not so; that Greyfriar would never be found among the human dead, only among his own kind. Even if he had somehow survived the event she had caused, Msiri's men had dispatched all the surviving vampires with a swift sword. She couldn't suppress a shudder.

  “He was here, Colonel,” she spoke quietly, her voice thick.

  “I only offer you hope, Your Highness. It is all I have.” He draped his long greatcoat over her shoulders as Adele's hand fumbled for his.

  “Thank you.”

  “If you believe he was here, we will continue to search until we find him. Gain your strength and then join us when you are ready. Breathe in the cold air and find a moment's peace in the rugged beauty of this hellish place.”

  He left her alone and Adele listened to the rush of the airstreams as they careened around the rocky slopes. She closed her eyes and tried to center her thoughts as Mamoru had taught her. However, her stomach knotted at the thought of the grotesque duty that lay before her, and her grief returned again. Her resolve faltered, but then she drew in a deep breath, locked her shoulders, and arched her back stiffly. She would do this for Gareth. She would not leave his body here.

  A stone shifted to her right and bounced down the cliff wall.

  She whirled, her hand falling to the pistol at her belt. It could only be a vampire who clung to the rocks below. She stepped to the edge, prepared to put a bullet in its brain and send it to the bottom of the crevasse.

  Carried on the turbulent wind, a faint voice called, “Adele.”

  The pistol tumbled from nerveless fingers as she fell to her hands and knees. Below her, hanging on to mere scrabble and rock, was a tall figure. Adele dropped flat on the ground and took hold of his outstretched hand. It was scorched and bloodied.

  “Gareth!”

  GARETH'S GRIP WAS weak. His shirt was shredded and dark with dried blood. Adele shuddered to think of what his skin looked like beneath.

  Tightening her grip, she pulled with all her strength, determined not to let him fall. She screamed for help, but the wind ripped away her breath. Gareth's bare face tipped up at her. He was smiling weakly, almost drunkenly.

  “I found you,” he mouthed softly.

  Adele wasted no words as she tried to drag him up over the edge. Clothes and skin ripped against the sharp stones, and rocks crumbled beneath Gareth as he scrambled for footholds. He was slipping out of her grasp.

  “Damn it, no!” Adele shouted, only to have her words shoved back against her by the foul driving wind.

  “Don't let go,” he urged her.

  Gareth's fingers tightened about hers. Then he closed his eyes and abruptly he lightened. His body was immediately caught in the maelstrom of the ravine, and only Adele's desperate hold on him prevented him from being driven by the wind with deadly force onto the rocks.

  He flew up, and Adele scrambled to her knees, yanking him toward her. He slipped into her arms, his density changing as soon as he was over solid ground. They crashed together onto the scrubby slope. His body was limp as she rolled over, his strength long spent.

  “I thought I killed you!” Her head bent to his, tears of grief changing to those of joy.

  “You made a good try.”

  “The others are all dead. We killed every vampire here.”

  Gareth nodded, feeling no remorse for his Rwenzori brethren. He took solace in wrapping his arms around Adele. Her arms locked around him, and he couldn't help but wince.

  “You feel pain? How badly are you hurt?” She pulled back and started to examine him. “You've been shot.” Dried blood stained the upper right of his chest. Luckily the wound had stopped bleeding, but the angry hole was black and vivid. “You're lucky the soldiers aren't better shots.”

  “You shot me.” Gareth blinked at her dully and reached a hand to her face.

  “What?” That news rocked her back on her heels.

  “You didn't know it was me.” His hand brushed at the red line at her temples from the coarse caress of the leather goggle strap she had worn during the skirmish.

  “Damn stupid things,” Adele cursed. “I should have realized you'd be here.”

  “Then perhaps I shouldn't tell you that you stabbed me as well.”

  Her hands flew to her mouth, and she cursed in gutter Arabic, so fast that Gareth couldn't follow. Then she calmed and gave a halfhearted hiccupping laugh. “You have the nine lives of all your cats, you know that?”

  Gareth stared at her. “I have never seen a cat live more than one life.”

  Adele didn't waste time explaining the idiom to him, knowing they would soon be noticed by others. Anhalt wouldn't leave her out of his care for long, and Gareth could not be seen as he was. His face and head were lightly scorched, but much of his body was scarred by horrible, black burns. The red sash at her waist would serve as a suitable headdress. She kissed the cloth over his cracked lips and then helped him sit up so she could button Anhalt's coat around him to hide his blackened skin.

  Crunching footsteps rushed toward them, with Anhalt in the lead, shouting, “You found him! He was here.”

  Adele leaned in to whisper in Gareth's ear. “Keep your hands hidden. Keep your eyes closed. Pretend you're half-conscious.”

  “Pretend?”

  “He needs help,” Adele called to the approaching soldiers, who required no prompting. Strong arms gently helped the swathed Gareth to his feet. The troopers were enormously caring of the man who had reached Jaga's boma alone and survived who knew what hardships and horrors.

  “A bloody miracle,” was Anhalt's awed response.

  “Yes, it is,” Adele replied quietly.

  “I will fetch the surgeon.”

  “No! Take him to my tent, Colonel. I'll care for him myself. Just please get me some supplies if the surgeon can spare them. Suturing needles, bandages.”

  Gareth stumbled between two men toward a small tent set away from the slaughter. The Katangans eased him down on the pallet inside. Gareth could smell Adele here, and his anxiety eased. He turned away from them, the coat slipping slightly from his shoulders, revealing the jagged torn flesh from Jaga's claws. To his surprise, one of the soldiers patted him ge
ntly on the arm.

  “You fought bravely against the ndoki. You do us great honor. Live for the sake of your princess.”

  Then they left him alone and he closed his eyes, too weary to remain alert any longer. Soon Adele swept into the tent. She knelt beside him and brushed gentle fingers across his temple and released a long exhale of relief.

  “Apparently, you won't be rid of me so easily, Adele.”

  “Thank heaven for that.”

  Anhalt coughed lightly at the entrance to the tent, his arms full of supplies courtesy of the camp surgeon. “I can assist, Your Highness. I have some field experience. The surgeon also offered his services.”

  Adele sat back and nodded at her loyal commander. “Sadly, I've also had experience of late. But thank you, no, Colonel. I want to do this. I owe him that much.”

  “As you wish. I'll be outside if you need me.” Anhalt withdrew.

  She started taking stock of the supplies and putting them in the order as she would need them. Then she turned to Gareth and began removing his tattered, filthy clothing. She winced at the sound of cloth tearing away from patches of seared flesh. Gareth maintained a stoic halfstare at the flapping tent ceiling with only sharp snorts from his nostrils giving away the extent of his pain from the burns she'd inflicted on him.

  Finally, she tossed the rags into a corner and tried to objectively evaluate the terrible figure reposed before her. He had suffered the worst burns across his upper body, and his sinewy torso was badly ripped from what she recognized as the claw marks of another vampire. There were several bullet wounds and suppurating gashes from a Fahrenheit blade. He rolled his head slowly toward her with a slight, comforting smile.

  Adele swallowed her anxiety and said, “Alone at last.”

  “And I'm incapacitated again. The Greyfriar in that book always has time for romance. He has admirable stamina. This somehow seems like a cruel joke.”

  “When you don't have me to tell you what to do, bad things happen.” She didn't feel the glibness, but wanted to relax him. She opened an irrigation bottle to clear the searing chemical from the wounds inflicted by the Fahrenheit blade. He hissed as the liquid flooded the slash on his back. Adele paused. “I'm sorry.”

  “I can stand it,” he panted. “The wounds must be cleaned of those infernal chemicals. They may not kill, but they still burn as hot as any desert. It is a most effective weapon.”

  Her hand grew unsteady as she continued to wash his wounds, listening to his painful gasps. Doctoring him had been much easier when he felt no pain. It didn't tear at her heart so. “How did you live when so few others did?”

  “I ran.”

  “How did you know it was going to happen?”

  “I've been on the receiving end of your power before, though not nearly at this strength. I knew this would kill.”

  “I can't believe it happened. I killed a single vampire in Alexandria using this…ability, but this is on a scale I couldn't imagine.”

  “I saw the waves of heat coming off you. It was…terrifying. Your powers have definitely increased. The heat burned all the way through. I've never felt such agony. It hurts still.”

  “I'm sorry. I'd give anything if Mamoru was here to help me. I can't control it.” Adele finished flushing both his back and arm and began to sew up the red, inflamed flesh. Then she inspected the burns across his back and chest, and the blackened flash on the left side of his face from his jawline to his temple.

  “These injuries are so horrible, Gareth.”

  “Those cuts are nothing. The burns are worse, but even they will heal eventually. We can't let anyone see how bad they are or they will wonder why I'm perfectly fine in a few days.”

  Adele was heartened by his optimism that it would take only a few days to heal this devastation. She had her doubts. “I brought the Greyfriar with me.”

  “You carried him on the march to war?”

  “Of course. It was like having you at my side…well, in my trunk at least.”

  He laughed weakly; then his chest hitched as his scorched skin pulled. He barely suppressed an agonized gasp.

  “Damn it!” Adele shoved her medical supplies angrily. “I have nothing here for burns.”

  “Why would your colonel think you needed them, Adele? Only vampires were burned.”

  Trepidation rose in Adele. “Do you need to feed? Will that help speed the healing process?”

  “I've already fed well.” At the arch of her eyebrow, he explained, “Jaga was a most generous host.” Gareth explained the events of the last week. Though he was far too tired to relate the details, he hid nothing from her, even his attempt to kill Jaga's son and his failure due to hesitation. His tone turned bitter.

  Adele brushed his lips with hers. “Of course, you couldn't kill him.”

  “I'm a vampire.” It was an angry declaration.

  “You're a good man.”

  “Vampire.”

  “With a kind heart.”

  He sighed. “The boy has no fault of his own. If he survived the battle, I wonder if I should go find him.”

  “There were so few survivors.” Adele hesitated, then said with a haunted voice, “And there were children among the dead.”

  “What if he's still alive? Someone should help him.”

  “Who? You?” Adele placed a firm hand on his chest. “There's nothing you can do. You're barely alive. I understand your wishes, and I'd expect no less of you, but you can't go. And what if you found him? What would you do? Bring him back here? He'd be executed.”

  “I could be sure that he is with his people. What's left of them.”

  “And if Jaga's people get their hands on you, you won't survive it. It's impossible.” Adele smoothed his hair. “Gareth, you can't save everyone. You're just one man. I'm so sorry about the boy. Believe me. It might have been I who killed him. Do you think I want to kill children?”

  Gareth took her hand. “Don't blame yourself. Jaga slaughtered his herds before the army arrived, including many children.”

  She dropped her head. “My God. What kind of war will this be?”

  “The worst ever conceived,” Gareth replied.

  Adele took a deep breath. “Did you manage to kill Jaga?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “We haven't found his body yet.”

  “He's deep at the bottom of the ravine.”

  She continued to work on him as they talked. Gareth had settled now that the worst of his wounds were treated, and soon the horrible rips on his shoulders were sewn closed and bandaged. She again wrapped her sash around his lower face to conceal the most vivid burns, and swathed his hands. She covered him with the blanket, not for shock or cold, but to hide the evidence of his wounds. Unfortunately, most of his gear was across the ravine at the main camp, so she would have to wait to get him properly outfitted as the Greyfriar.

  Gareth's eyes closed at her bidding, content in the knowledge that she would watch over him. Slipping quietly from the tent, Adele saw a soldier nearby and ordered him to stand watch to make sure no one disturbed Greyfriar. He pledged that he would fetch her immediately if the swordsman needed anything. Adele made her way to the makeshift medical tent, where Colonel Anhalt found her rummaging through supplies.

  “How is he?” Anhalt asked with genuine concern. His relief at seeing the princess again in her right mind was obvious.

  “Sorely wounded, but he'll live.”

  “I'm very glad.”

  She smiled. “How goes the mop-up? When do you think we can leave?”

  “Soon. Msiri wants to see you.”

  “He's probably curious as hell about what happened. As are you, I imagine.”

  “It's nothing that can't wait. You are well. Greyfriar is safe. That's enough for now.”

  Together they walked to the great tent, where the king was holding court. She stumbled slightly as her adrenaline waned and exhaustion finally found her. Anhalt offered his arm to her, which she gratefully accepted. Katangans stared as sh
e passed. A few actually stepped away, though others shouted and raised their rifles in an exuberant salute.

  Anhalt explained, “They honor you for the victory.”

  “I scare them.” She regarded the sturdy Gurkha beside her. “And you?”

  “You are my princess. You do not frighten me.”

  “I frighten myself sometimes.”

  They walked past even more vampire cadavers that the men had dragged into a pile after systematically decapitating them. The dead that littered the plateau reeked. Adele averted her eyes and shuddered. Anhalt tightened his grip on her as they passed the charnel activity. She had no elation or pride at what she had wrought. She did feel relief that she had saved others; without her intervention, the Katangans and Equatorians would have been massacred.

  King Msiri lifted a hand in greeting as Adele approached his tent. General Ngongo and other men of his war council surrounded him. They all parted for her, and some took an extra step back. Adele felt very self-conscious until Msiri rose beaming and bowed to her, leading the others to follow suit.

  The king clasped her hands. “I am so very pleased you are well! What you did here will be the stuff of songs and legends for generations to come. Already the men are singing of you. My mother was right. You are a most remarkable woman!”

  Adele smiled weakly at the king's praise and glanced quickly at the others in the royal tent. To her relief, more of them looked awestruck than frightened. “Majesty, if you would, please don't spread any stories about what you think happened up here. I can't tell you myself what happened. I want no credit. This was a battle won by the brave men of the Katangan army and a handful of Equatorian allies.”

  “Very well. So it shall be. History is only what we say it is. If conflict comes between the ndoki and Equatoria, I know now who the victor will be. You. They teach remarkable things in Alexandria. Great illness requires strong medicine.” Msiri exclaimed loudly, “And your Greyfriar lives to fight through the pages of more books! It is a glorious day indeed!”