The Shadow Warrior

by J. E. Klimov

  “Foti of Ogonia, you are free from One and her pawns! Come, fill your streets and help me bury your leader.”

  Doors creaked open. Eyes blinked curiously. The Foti approached the square, holding their pups close and weapons closer. One with a gray snout rushed past everyone and stood by Hakan’s body. The blacksmith.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said.

  “I’m afraid I was too late.”

  The Foti held his paw up. “This is not the time for words. I’ll carry Hakan to our burial grounds. Then, I shall take a look at that mangled ankle of yours.”

  CHAPTER

  34

  Bence arched his back as he bit into a rag. His stifled cries fell on deaf ears. He blinked out tears each time they hit his ankle. A paw pushed him back down. The Fotian blacksmith faded in and out of his vision.

  “No alcohol for you. You still have a long mission ahead with little down time. We’re almost done.”

  Someone yanked and twisted his foot until it snapped. Bence’s eyes bulged, screaming himself hoarse.

  “The bones feel like they are aligned again,” said a female Foti. “I didn’t detect any breaks in the bone itself. However, bite marks suggest some tear in his tendons. I’ve got just the herbs for that. I’ll be right back.”

  When the door slammed shut, Bence spit the rag out. Strands of hair clung to his face. “What the hell was she doing to my foot?”

  The Fotian blacksmith leaned over him, covering the lantern that hung from the ceiling. “Tell me the truth.”

  “What?” He rubbed the sweat from his eyes.

  “Those bite marks aren’t human. The one on your hand, yes. Hakan attacked you, and now he’s dead.”

  Sitting up, Bence felt the room spin. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

  “You also killed One and her entire army. I need to know exactly what happened.”

  Bence stared at his swollen foot to center himself. His skin was red and shiny. When he tried to wiggle his toes, only this big toe twitched. Once. “One locked Hakan in a closet. When I opened it, he attacked me as soon as he saw One’s dead body, like he was possessed. All the while, I wanted to give him this. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the claw. The Foti examined it with his eyes and nose.

  “Once I got a hold of this, I turned around. Hakan jumped on me and… Well…” Bence dropped his head in shame. “His last word was ‘father.’”

  “I see. Hakan was a Foti of the Bridge, unlike most of us. I’m from the Volkwood. I know this tradition,” the Foti replied. He plucked the claw from Bence’s hands and caressed it. “You’ve made quite the journey, traveler.”

  Bence massaged his shoulder. “You could say that.”

  A peaceful silence extended between them. Moments later, the door swung open, and a Foti in crisp white slacks and just as equally bright white sash pushed a wheelbarrow in.

  “You look much happier now,” she said with a giggle.

  Before Bence could respond, she plucked various flowers and greens. After tossing them into a mortar and pestle, she ground everything into a pulp. He caught a whiff of mint. She also pulled out an oblong shell. After ripping it apart, she let the gooey inner content plop into the mixture.

  Bence retched. “Ugh, what is that?”

  “It’s going to save your foot.” She resumed mixing. “These shellfish colonize near our shores during the fall and winter. They’re a Fotian delicacy.”

  When she slathered the goo over his skin, Bence shuddered at the tingling sensation. It reminded him of the Kacterous jelly. “Have you heard of Kacterous?”

  The two Foti shook their heads.

  “Now, I’m going to drain the pus. You may want to distract yourself.”

  Once he spotted a thick needle, Bence swung his head toward the Fotian blacksmith. “What’s your name, anyway?”

  “Kasar.”

  “That’s a nice n-na-name!” Bence ended with a shout as the needle pierced his skin. After a forced breath, he continued, “Are you able to tell me what the hell has happened in Deran?”

  Kasar pulled up a stool, swishing his tail aside. “We’ve been pretty isolated from the rest of the country since One’s arrival. But what I can tell you is that a string of mysterious murders plagued the land for the last month or two. It happened around a strange time. Dante had returned─”

  Staring at the ceiling to avoid watching pus ooze from the puncture, he said, “That can’t be right.”

  “It was a shock to us all, but he is alive.”

  Acid surged up his throat. Bence couldn’t tell if it was from the news or the odor permeating in the room.

  “He also hired an advisor, Raiden. He came out of nowhere, too,” Kasar continued.

  Lief’s final words popped into Bence’s mind.

  “When the attacks started happening, Raiden had sent someone to protect us, which was One in our case, until the perpetrator has been found. One kept telling us it was an Aeonian’s doing.”

  Bence’s hand flew to his scar.

  “Don’t bother. I already saw it.”

  Dropping his arm, Bence blurted, “It wasn’t me. I fled the country, and as you can see, I’ve returned to atone for my sins.”

  “Are any of your brethren alive?”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s just me. Although, I don’t have proof.” Forced to admit the truth to a citizen of Deran, he feared the worst. If One or Two hadn’t killed him, maybe Kasar would. Deep down, Bence knew he deserved it.

  “I don’t believe it was you,” Kasar said.

  “That’s a relief.”

  “Not because of what you’ve revealed to me. But Raiden and his underlings smelled like trouble from the start. Ever since One’s arrival, Hakan hasn’t been the same. And instituting martial law wasn’t something Isabel would do. Something’s fishy. Something way more complex than a blood thirsty, thick-minded Aeonian.”

  Bence’s elbow slipped. “Hey!” He glowered at Kasar, clenching his fists until his nails broke his skin.

  “Live with it.” Kasar stood and stomped toward the door.

  “Wait!” Reeling in his temper, he shook his head. “I deserved that. Listen, I’ve already been to Buryan. So, am I to assume there are ones in Zeyland and Pekas? The weirdoes named after numbers?”

  Kasar’s mane bobbed as he nodded. When he rested his paw against the wall, he extended his claws. A skin-crawling screech stung Bence’s ears as Kasar scratched. “They are Healers. To be honest,” he trailed off, turning around to face Bence once more. “My best guess is that Raiden is already aware of your little invasion. While all the other Foti were forced in their homes, I was tasked to forge weapons for Raiden’s soldiers, and I heard many things. Hours before you arrived, there were whispers Raiden is sending word to recall his pawns to defend Deran Castle.”

  “The Healers I took down so far were pathetic. Maybe I should go straight for the head of the serpent.”

  “You could. But with two Healers running to his aid, you still could be easily disadvantaged.”

  As he calculated a plan in his mind, Bence noticed the other Foti completed her work on his foot. It shrunk almost back to normal size, completely bandaged with a short, thick plank of wood tied to it.

  “Try to keep that on as long as possible. I’m aware of the quest you’re pursuing, but don’t take it off until you absolutely have to.”

  Bence nodded. It was a long ride to Deran castle; he couldn’t waste any more time. He needed to reach Isabel. After thanking her, he stood and shook Kasar’s paw.

  “I’ll see you out.”

  Raising his hand, Bence said, “I’m fine, thanks.”

  “Suit yourself. Then, take this.” Kasar reached into the wheelbarrow and unwound a cloth.

  A glistening bow radiated under the light. Bence was tempted to hop up and down like an excited child. When Kasar placed it in his hands, it weighed heavily. “Woah. Is this…?”

  “Pure gold. But I’m sure a man your size can affo
rd the extra weight.”

  Caressing the intricate engravings, Bence nodded. “This is extraordinary craftsmanship.”

  “Damn right,” Kasar said. He handed over a quiver of arrows. Each arrowhead was also made of solid gold. “I also had your cloak washed clean. Finally, here is your sword. I sharpened it a little, and gave it a little personality. I have to say, it’s well made, as if it was forged by a Foti!”

  Bence grinned. “It was.”

  He equipped his weapons and said his good-byes. As he trekked through the city, Foti would stop and stare. Some waggled their tails and smiled. Bence tucked his hood forward to hide his own. A pup bounded up to him with an apple in her mouth. She wanted him to have it. After she dropped it into his hands, he patted her head in appreciation.

  Walking up the grand stairwell posed a challenge, but after some patience, he reached the city exit. He took a bite into the ruby red apple and let the juices coat his mouth. By the time he reached his horse, it was half gone. Bence offered the remains to his companion, who finished it in one bite.

  Once he mounted his horse, he positioned his injured leg as comfortably as he could. A snowflake kissed his nose. Then another hit his cheek. A flurry started. Bence flicked the reins and bolted southeast at top speed.

  CHAPTER

  35

  The hill Bence stood upon seemed oddly familiar. A smattering of naked trees surrounded him, but Deran castle was in plain sight. It was just a speck in the distance, but that was as close as he could get. A solid wall of people surrounded the circumference of the castle. Drumming his fingers against his thigh, Bence was in no mood to solve puzzles. He wanted to satisfy his bloodlust and end it all. Once Isabel was safe, then he would be free from his cage of guilt. That’s how it worked.

  He smacked his palm against his forehead. This is where I led the Aeonian army at the start of the invasion.

  “Fate is the most ironic creature in existence.” Resting his elbows on his legs, he imagined the interior of the castle. Bence didn’t remember much, coming to the conclusion sneaking in via shadow wouldn’t be successful. As the sun tilted westward, his eyes fell to the soldiers’ shadows that stretched obediently. His eyebrows rose.

  Bence hadn’t utilized his powers in a while. As he flexed his hand, the black pearl flirted back. The light hit the spherical talisman in perfect ways. He wondered why Isabel wasn’t able to dig herself out of this situation. She was no pushover, at least not by the end of their previous adventure, and her control over four elements made her a formidable foe.

  After unwrapping his ankle brace, he stood and wrapped his cloak tightly around him. A soft lump pressed against his chest. Digging into his pockets, questions floated in his mind. He had already delivered the claw. A flattened bleeding heart drooped in his grasp. Ami.

  Instead of casting the dead flower away, he tucked it back in his pocket. He was certain he’d never see Ami again, so the wilted flower would have to be his reminder of her. Leaving his horse behind, Bence strolled at a steady pace toward Deran castle as his heart sank in invisible quicksand.

  With each step, he dared someone to notice. Chills ran rampant throughout his body. Any thought that inched into his mind, he shoved away. He required a clean slate, an empty conscience for what he was about to do. He needed to become an Aeonian one more time.

  The hill leveled onto a grassy plain. Still no one noticed. Bence purposefully hopped onto the main path, kicking up as must snow and dirt as he could. The soldiers swayed in the breeze like straw dolls. Bence clenched his jaw and arched his shoulders.

  A singular metallic shing was music to his ears. Men and women unsheathed their weapons in succession like a cascading waterfall. As soon as the first pawn took his first step, Bence stilled. He scanned the length of the so-called army.

  Bence outreached his arms in front of him, palms facing up. He waggled his index fingers, beckoning them to hurry up. Steps transforming into trampling. Summoning energy from every corner of his body, he focused on his black pearl while keeping his eyes ahead. When he inched his arms higher, his muscles set ablaze as if he carried the weight of the two moons. Sweat tickled his skin as it dripped down his cheek, but he kept lifting.

  A subtle rumble slithered through the earth, toward the charging wall of flesh. The higher his arms rose, the greater the resistance. Bence’s veins bulged as his heels dug into the dirt. His fingertips were close to grazing the sky. Sucking in a sharp breath through his nose, he released a baritone cry as he fought against the invisible force. The black pearl burned his skin, radiating as brightly as the sun.

  When his hands flicked its final inches heavenward, Bence crashed onto his knees. The crushing force swept past him in an audible swoosh, and barreled forward. Snapping his head up, he smiled as each person’s shadow erupted from the ground and crashed into their counterparts.

  Every move a soldier made, his or her shadow mirrored the action. Double-edged axes sliced through air. Bodies jostled against each other as some retreated. Their shadows stalked them with weapons cocked.

  Even though Bence wished to rest and watch his creations take action, he knew he had no time. Using his sword to stand, he searched for an opening in the melee. He took off with a limp, but he fought harder until he corrected himself into a sprint.

  Wind whistled past his ears, blocking blood curdling screams. He side-stepped through a narrow opening, barely missing a rogue arrow that grazed his shoulder. A body crashed against his back, sending him forward. He braced for impact against of his shadow creations, but nothing happened. Bence slammed against the dirt while the shadow warrior stood unfazed. It swiveled and grappled Bence’s assailant.

  Scrambling to his feet, he continued toward the main gate. Bence splashed through puddles of blood, passing by a mound of rubble and bodies strung by their necks. This is a nightmare.

  When he reached the castle, Bence noticed it was completely consumed in shadow with nowhere for him to jump toward. He took rattled breaths as he leapt up the main stairs, two at a time. He was out of breath when he reached the massive doors.

  “I would knock first if I were you.” A young voice, sharp as day, sliced through death’s musical orchestra.

  When Bence swung around, he found a man with amber eyes. “There could only be two people in this whole country who would dare stop me when I’m just a hair away from my goal.”

  Running his hair through his dark chocolate locks, the man said, “Want to guess? Let’s have some fun with it.”

  Bence brandished his sword. “Four?”

  He cracked a smile. “Well done.”

  Four vanished and re-appeared inches from Bence’s face and landed a fist against his left cheek. Before Bence hit the ground, a foot kicked the sword from his hand. Bence ran but his feet gave out underneath him. His gums swelled as he tasted something metallic. When Bence spit, two teeth flew out, painted red with blood.

  Bence winced as an iron-clad grip around both his ankles twisted. The sheer momentum flipped him over, and the back of his head slammed against the edge of a step.

  “What’s the matter, old man?”

  The cocky tone rattled Bence’s bones. He lunged and grabbed a handful of Four’s hair. “Oh, yeah pretty boy? With age comes wisdom.” He slammed his face against his knee. Four released his grip, and Bence skid down a few steps. He dove for his sword.

  As his fingertips grazed the handle, Bence choked on the clasp of his cloak. Dread swooped in on him like a hawk, tearing at his neck with its talons.

  “Fool!” Four barked. He yanked Bence backward.

  Bence jammed his heel against a step, used the momentum, and jumped. The world swirled around as he flipped over Four. He swiped a dagger from his opponent’s back pocket and sawed the fabric attached to the clasp. As soon as he freed himself, he leapt on Four, trapping him beneath the wool. He flailed blindly, but Bence jabbed the dagger into his body repeatedly.

  Four lost balance and the two tumbled down the stairs. Eyes razor
focused, Bence snatched his sword on the way down and braced for impact. He crashed onto his back, with Four landing to his left. Rolling on top of him, Bence pressed the sword horizontally against his neck. “How about that?”

  Four pressed against the blade and blood flowed in a steady stream, pooling at the base of his head. “You can’t kill me. I’ll keep on coming back.”

  The bloodstone.

  Bence faltered. A rock collided into his forehead. Rubbing against the throbbing welt, he spotted a man with a sling and a twisted smile. Frost nipped even deeper into his skin as he realized the man’s shadow was gone. He was engulfed in the castle’s, and Bence couldn’t figure out what happened. Bence dropped the thought when the soldier snatched another rock and twirled the sling above his head.

  He ducked. The stone hit bone with a sickening crunch. Peeking up, Bence grinned at the soldier’s stupidity. Four had stood and took the hit to the back of the head. His amusement was short-lived as he scanned Four’s body for the bloodstone. Nothing but flesh, blood, and gray towered over him.

  Sweeping his foot, Bence sent him crashing into the ground once more. He took out his bow and sent an arrow between the lone soldier’s eyes without skipping a beat. He stepped over Four, who writhed in place, and picked up his sword. It weighed heavier than usual. When he realized his shadow warriors dissipated one by one, it dawned on Bence that his power was dwindling.

  When Four’s eyes opened, his irises glowed a reddish-amber. His pupils dilated until only a thin ring of color remained. Prowling after Bence, he said, “What’s the matter? Can’t seem to figure it out?” He traced his finger across his neck, following his wound line.

  With each step Four took, the larger the crowd formed behind him. When Bence’s back bumped against the door, he sheathed his sword. Holding his hands up, he sneered. “I give up.”

  “Likely story, Aeonian–serial killer who has been the scourge of this country.”