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Quinn stopped in her tracks, listening carefully for the slightest rustle in the grass. It was a deathly, unnerving silence until… a twig snapped. She threw her knife in that direction and the immediate squeal and squelch gratified her ears. Moving quickly she examined her kill with a grin. A pig! It was a real pig. She hadn’t seen a pig in months. She got to work quickly, skinning and cutting off slabs of meat before building a small fire and mounting the meat on a stick. Using more sticks she created two small tepees and rested the stick of raw meat over them, moaning in delight as the scent of cooking pork filled her nose. Over the next couple of hours she cooked the rest of the meat as she made a small sack out of the grass, singeing it to make it sturdier. Filling the sack with her cooked wares she looked up to see the sky dimming and the moon rising high. The forests were dangerous at night. At one time, clans would only move under the cover of darkness but the Union soon wised up to their actions and sent Mech mutts and soldiers to roam between the trees hoping to secure anyone who dared to segregate themselves from the glory of the Free World. Not only that but she had stopped for too long. The promise of cooked meat had made her forget herself and as she came to the realisation she became increasingly anxious. The scent of the cooked meat would attract animals at least and at night, that was never good. Grabbing her grass-made sack and sliding her knife into her belt she headed towards the treeline but something stopped her in her tracks. That same feeling she’d had when Amira was taken. Something wasn’t right… she could feel it. Standing as still as she possibly could, she closed her eyes, listening intently. The wind blew gently cutting through the humid air in soft waves and shaking crimson leaves from the towering trees. The grass whispered against each other and the soft pads of small animals flitting through the brush met her ears. She was about ready to call herself paranoid when a low metallic hum filled the air followed by a deathly growl. She didn’t even have time to reach her blade before it leapt out from the treeline, its large metal paws pinning her arms down to the ground. She shrieked in panic, her fingers desperately clasping for her knife not that it would have done her much good with her arms firmly pressed into the dirt. The Mech mutt snarled and snapped its long metal jaws, artificial saliva dropping from its gleaming fangs. It was a capture and detain Mutt she realised, otherwise it would have ripped her throat out already. That meant it had an immortal partner not far behind. Forgetting about her knife she concentrated on the gifts that lived within her, baiting them to come to the surface and enforce her will. Starting from her hands, a fiery tendril crept from her skin crawling over her body, slowly engulfing her in blue and yellow flames. The Mutt didn’t notice, it just kept snapping and snarling, its settings modified to capture its prey at all costs. Even as the beast’s solid metal paws began to melt and its mechanical body began fizzing and malfunctioning, it didn’t stop. Not until it was a silver, molten mass of glowing metal did its jaws finally stop snapping. She pushed it off of her and clambered to her feet, fire still covering her body. She tried to push the power away, back inside, but it wouldn’t go. The last time she had used this much of her abilities she had ended up covered in fire for two days until exhaustion had forced her out of her anguish. That had been the night she was told about her Father. She had almost burnt the forest down. Looking down she realised the simple shirt she had been wearing had effectively fizzled away and her pants weren’t long behind it. In a minute she would be as naked as a babe, covered in flames and stranded in the middle of another very flammable forest. Shit. She heard a rustle of leaves and looked up, through the orange tint of her fire to see a pair of peculiar amber eyes set in a scarred face staring back at her with mouth agape. She just stared back at him for a moment, her mind refusing to register his appearance. He didn’t appear to be a threat and he had an odd gleaming shadow floating behind his shoulder that seemed to be staring as well. That’s crazy, she thought mildly, a shadow couldn’t stare… could it? She cocked her head to the left a little, still not really present in the moment, trying to understand the shadow she was seeing. Without warning the scarred man pulled a silver pistol from his belt and with a twitch of his finger he fired directly at her, she yelped and fell to the floor, her ears ringing as her gifts rose up to protect her, somewhat belatedly. She snarled low in her throat as her fires leapt towards him, an animalistic fury rising through her as her flames enveloped him. Then… nothing. No screams of agony, no yells of outrage… just nothing. Her confusion was enough to break through her anger as the man walked forward with a gruff frown in her direction. Her flames seemed to be lapping around him, as though an invisible sphere was protecting his body. If she hadn’t been so confused she might have been afraid as he came closer and closer but as it was she couldn’t think past ‘what the hells?’
He was about a foot away when her heart began beating erratically. She scrambled backwards, sharp grass and twigs stabbing into her flesh but he barely spared her a sideways glance as he walked on by. Stopping still, she followed him with her eyes and watched as he walked to the edge of the treeline and bent down. For the first time she noticed the body lying before him. The Union insignia emblazoned on the arm of his jacket as thick crimson blood pooled on his chest. The Mutts handler. Whoever this scarred guy was, it seemed as though he had saved her life, she thought, as she eyed the silver crossbow on the ground just inches from the soldier’s hands. Shaking herself free of thoughts of what might have been, she climbed to her feet and reached for the blade in her belt. If her gifts couldn’t reach him, she was certain cold hard silver would. Unfortunately, there was nothing in her belt. Or more accurately, there was no belt. She looked down and to her chagrin, the only thing offering her any modesty was her long red hair and the flames that licked around her skin. She eyed her broken belt and her knives, still intact, a couple of feet away on the ground. The orange glow emanating from her glinting off of the metal under the pale glow of the moonlight. She couldn’t remember it rising but there it was, high in the sky.
She stayed silent as she edged closer to her blades, keeping one eye on the man as he searched his kill. She had almost made it, her blades almost within her reach when he turned suddenly and aimed his gun at her.
“Don’t touch them,” he murmured, his voice so low and gravelly she felt it vibrate through her.
“What are you?” she asked and he smirked a little, rolling his eyes. She figured it wasn’t the first time he had heard that question. Hells, she could relate to that.
“Tired and hungry. What are you?”
“Naked,” she muttered, despite herself. She normally wouldn’t have given a crap that she was baring all to the world. It wasn’t the first time she had used more of her gifts than she intended to and found herself showing everything to unsuspecting clan members. Still, something about this scarred man made her feel on edge. He made her feel vulnerable. Her comment though seemed to amuse him.
He released a snort of laughter before nodding, looking at her body appreciatively with a grin, “yeah, I noticed that.”
“Ahem,” a soft, somewhat scolding voice called from behind her and she whirled round, expecting to see a woman standing there. Instead there was just the unusual pale glow she had noticed before. It floated towards her and as it got closer she was able to make out features, eyes, large and surrounded by thick lashes, a small pert nose and thick lips. She was young, younger than even Amira. She could even tell that from the way she looked, most Immortals hadn’t aged visibly past their mid-twenties but this girl had the youthful appearance of a teenager and a certain innocence in her eyes that even the swirling mist that embodied her couldn’t hide. Her silver hair floated around her face, giving her the image of an angel permanently beneath the water. She, unlike Quinn, was fully clothed though there was no colour to her clothing, or anything else for that matter. She was just a silvery, opalescent visage. There but not there. Like a ghost. “Hi,” she murmured shyly, biting on her lip.
“Er- hi,” Quinn replied stupidl
y.
“She needs clothes, Dad,” the girl said, offering a scathing look at the scarred man over Quinn’s shoulder.
“Aye, I’d say she does. But they won’t do her much good if she can’t get those flames under control, Squidge,” the man replied defensively. It would have been comical if she wasn’t so damn flabbergasted.
“What the hell is going on here? Who are you people?” she muttered, stepping back despite herself.
“Calm down, woman. My name is Slade and you are my bounty. Quiet that fire so you can get dressed,” Slade muttered, turning around to dig something out of a backpack she hadn’t realised he was carrying.
“Bounty? For whom?”
“The rebellion,” he replied dismissively.
“Screw the rebellion. I’m going to Union City,” she spat angrily. How dare they? She should have killed that asshole when she had the chance. Slade turned towards her with a small, cruel smile.
“What’s in Union City?” he asked nonchalantly, though there was a fierce glint in his eyes. “Going to be one of Jackson’s concubines, are you?”
“What? Hey, screw you asshole,” she sneered, turning on her heel, naked or not and stalking towards the treeline.
“Well done, Dad. Good work,” she heard the girl mutter sarcastically as she went but she didn’t get far. Before she made it to the trees a thick pair of arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her backwards. The moment his skin touched hers, she felt it. Truly felt it. Her flames reacted immediately and fell inside her, leaving them in near darkness with only the pale moonlight to light their way.
“What the… what the hell are you?” she gasped, truly afraid for the first time but also… something else.
“Someone who needs your help. And you are going to help us, whether you like it or not.” He grumbled, dragging her over to a tree and releasing her, taking the odd sensation with him. It was there and gone so quickly, she thought she must have imagined it. He pulled his gun from his belt and then picked up a loose shirt he had discarded on the floor. Throwing it to her, he motioned for her to put it on, whilst he gathered his bag and her grass sack of cooked meat. He also picked up her belt and blades and tucked them in his bag. She pulled the shirt over her head and relished the modesty it provided. Feeling somewhat less exposed in every sense she started looking for a way out. She wasn’t about to let this guy and his ghostly sidekick take her anywhere. Not now and not ever.
“Please don’t run,” the ghost murmured, startling her. She hadn’t realised it had floated so close.
“Why the hell not,” she growled, edging towards the tree line.
“Because I really need your help.” The girl whispered. Quinn couldn’t help but look back at her. There was something within her heartbroken voice that stopped her momentum.
“Help with what?” she asked though she kept telling herself she didn’t care.
“I-.”
“That’s enough, Shay. I told you she isn’t our friend,” Slade, appeared behind her, what the hell was it with this family…? Took out a pair of silver cuffs and snapped one onto Quinn’s wrists. She yelped and began fighting against him with gusto but he was bigger and she wasn’t armed. He quickly managed to subdue her, though he seemed to take care not to hurt her or even touch her fully, and clipped the other cuff on, securing her wrists in front of her. He took a step back, seemingly taking a breath of relief as he surveyed his handiwork. She scowled at him petulantly as he frowned.
“You can’t walk like that,” he murmured to himself and went to retrieve the boots from the fallen soldier. He brought them back and kneeled in front of her. Though he was kneeling at her feet, she still felt overpowered. Her fear was mounting and she knew it was just a matter of when her gifts exploded and not if. She felt them, even now, clawing at her insides, desperately trying to get free. He held one boot in front of her bare foot, nudging it when she didn’t move.
“Please,” she murmured, angry at how feeble she sounded, “Please let me go. My sister’s life depends on it,” she added.
“I- I’m sorry. My daughter’s life depends on you too,” he whispered, looking up through those odd amber eyes with pain and sorrow. As soon as she saw it though it was gone, replaced with the cold, hard look of a seasoned hunter. And she was the prey.
Chapter 5
Once she had the boots, which were easily three sizes too big, on as firmly as the laces would allow, Slade attached a chain to her cuffs and with a grunt, he guided her through the forest. They walked for well over an hour, with Shay floating a little ahead. Her silver glow lighting their way as much as the moon.
“What happened to her?” Quinn eventually asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. Slade didn’t speak for a long time, her question seemingly sending him into his own thoughts.
“Your king happened to her.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, affronted.
“She was gifted. Had the gift of electricity. She could light up any room… literally. Well, he wanted it. When he heard of her abilities he sent his men to our village and they took her. Killed my wife, gave me this scar and stole my baby girl from me. That was six years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered and she was. She, better than most, could understand what it was like to lose everything. Especially now.
“Yeah, well… she has hope. You,” he murmured after a pause.
“I don’t understand.”
“Let’s stop here for the night,” he muttered, effectively changing the subject without so much as a glance in her direction.
Less than an hour later he had made a small fire and gathered enough heather and leaves from the forest to make two beds and successfully foiled three escape attempts. He sat in front of the fire and gestured her to sit down as well as he pulled some of the meat she had cooked earlier from the little grass sack and handed her a hunk. She took it hesitantly and waited until he bit into his own before indulging. The cooked pork melted in her mouth. It was heavenly. Even better than it had been before, though it definitely wasn’t the company that made it so. Slade finished his meal, took a swig of something from a silver hip flask and leaned back against a tree. After a moment he looked over at her and offered her the flask. She took it, her mouth dry as a desert, but immediately she regretted it. The liquid was harsh and hot, burning her throat as it went down. She coughed and spluttered, handing it back to him like it was a snake threatening to bite her.
“What the hell is that?” she asked, her voice croaking.
“Moonshine. Good for you,” he muttered with a smirk.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, changing the subject suddenly. She had expected him to lead her back the way she had come, towards Monkshood, but they had continued deeper into the forest. She was certain of it.
“You’ll find out tomorrow. Get some sleep. We’ve got a long walk.” With that, he lay down on his heathery bed and rolled over, his back to the fire and to her. She stared at him for a while, her irritation mounting. Eventually, she heard a soft snore coming from his still form and got to work on her bindings. The cuffs weren’t coming off without doing some serious damage to her wrists so she moved on to the chain. Slade had tied it around the trunk of the tree closest to her. Taking care to be as quiet as possible she began sidling closer to the tree.
“He’s not asleep, you know?” Shay murmured, making Quinn jump in surprise.
“Gods… we need to put a freaking bell on you,” she muttered, as the young girls words finally registered. “He’s not?”
“Nope… he doesn’t sleep. I haven’t seen him sleep in weeks.”
“Hmm, I suppose he is just waiting for me to try and escape again, isn’t he?”
“Something like that, I’m sure. He’s determined to prove himself right about you,” she said with a grim smile.
“Right about what?” Quinn asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
“He is sure that you won’t help us, help me, of your own free will but I th
ink he’s wrong. I think you would help if we told you all about it,” she explained, her eyes full and wide.
“I… why do you think I’ll help you? Why does it have to be me?”
“Why does the rebellion want you? I’m sure the reason is the same,” Shay said and waited expectantly. Quinn just shrugged her shoulders and looked back at her blankly.
“You don’t know, do you? Wow. I thought I had issues but you must have been living under a rock or something,” she muttered with a giggle.
“Uh-huh, what don’t I know?” Quinn replied tersely, her patience wearing thin.
“You’re the one. The red-haired immortal with gifts from the light and from the dark. You’re a rarity.”
“I still don’t understand,” Quinn said after a few moments. She knew her gifts were… different… but the ‘one’ what?
All of a sudden, Shay got serious. As serious as a ghostly apparition could get anyway. She floated lower until she was eye to eye with Quinn and lay a ghostly hand on her shoulder. Quinn shuddered at the cold, somewhat damp contact and her reaction seemed to please the girl watching her intently.
“She, with the crimson hair, who feels what is not there, she with the gifts of dark and light, can restore balance between wrong and right, she, whose loyalty is untested, she who has never been bested. She, who cannot be tamed, will sacrifice that which cannot be named, she will restore faith and more, in those who follow her into war.” Shay’s voice had taken on a melodic quality, low and soothing and the words she spoke felt weighted.
“I… What is that?” Quinn whispered, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.
“It is a prophecy. Perhaps I should start from the beginning?”
“Yeah, maybe…” Quinn whispered, unable to raise her voice.
“My Father told you I had the gift of electricity? It manifested early. I was the youngest in my village, the youngest in the county. Children are rare these days, you know?” Quinn nodded, she did know that. Amira was the youngest in her clan despite there being many couples ready and willing to start a family. “We lived off the coast to the south, within the King’s regions. My Mother was a clothier, ungifted. My Father was a hunter and he believed he had no gifts at the time as well. When I was only six, I accidentally set fire to the farmhouse with my gifts. I remember being afraid that they would abandon me, I was so different to them, but they didn’t.” Shay’s glassy silver eyes took on a faraway look as she spoke and Quinn found herself abandoning her quest for release, at least for now. “When my father found me, lightning lancing from my fingertips, he rushed towards me. I screamed because I thought I would hurt him but it just seemed to flow around him. You’ve seen it… that’s his gift, you know. He’s like some sort of magnet, except he repels the gifts of others. He told me it’s like an electric magnetic pulse that prevents the gifts from working near him. He thinks that everybody’s gifts come from the electric impulses we all have inside of us, just pronounced. Each gift is generated from those but it manifests depending on our personalities and true selves, or some such. I didn’t quite understand it, to be honest. Anyway, using his gifts he taught me to control mine and we lived in peace for a while but… news travels… eventually the King found out about a child with the ability to control electricity and he came for us. He came for me. His soldiers rushed our village. They burnt it all… so many lives lost… because of me,” Shay stopped, a silvery tear falling from the corner of her eye.
Dancing with Shadows Page 4