by R J Murray
He glanced at his sister, an unspoken question in his gaze and she shrugged, reaching into the bulging leather satchel that hung from a strap across her torso. She pulled out a handful of small items and began to speak.
The words were alien to Kristdor, sounding like something he should know but their meaning escaping his grasp. It was always the same when hearing a spell cast and was disconcerting, to say the least.
She made a number of small gestures, fingers dancing as though pulling at invisible strings and then she spoke a final word before narrowing her eyes and staring down at the white-robed figure. It was but a moment before she let out a gasp.
“There’s a large amount of power down there! Whoever it is, they are no novice priest.”
Kristdor lifted the small tin whistle he carried on a string around his neck up to his lips and blew hard. The shrill sound carried clearly across the rooftops and with a gesture, his men ran for the wooden stairs that ran up the side of the building.
Both he and the constables pulled out their truncheons and drew their short swords. By the time they ran out onto the cobbled street, they were as ready as they would ever be to apprehend the killer.
Vala, running behind them, lifting her crimson robes so as not to trip and fall, ran through all the spells she could bring to mind, wondering which would be best to capture the killer that carried more power than she’d expected.
“Halt!” Kristdor screamed and the few people on the street, long-time residents of the city did exactly the opposite and ran.
The white-robed person, however, stopped and turned to face them. Kristdor and his six constables spread out across the street blocking off escape past them and knowing that more of their own people would be soon entering the other end of the street from where they had been stationed.
“Who are you? Show your face!”
In reply, the white-robed figure bent their right arm at the elbow revealing a slim, pink, hand. The men stared at the figure in confusion as they waited for an order from their captain, who watched it carefully.
“Vala, is it casting a spell?”
“None that I can sense,” she said, breath coming in short gasps as she pulled items from her satchel. “What do you want to do?”
“Contain them,” he snapped. “I want whoever that is, alive!”
Words spilt from her in a rapid litany as she moved her hands and fingers. Dust fell from her hand as she spoke the last word and bright lines of energy sprung up around the figure. It tilted its head, face hidden by the shadows beneath the hood, and stared at those lines.
They coiled around the figure, leaving a foot-wide gap between it and the person as they spun and twisted into a loose cage. Just one touch of any of the lines would feel like grasping lightning in your hand.
“Spread out,” Kristdor commanded and his men did as they were ordered.
All along the streets, doors were opening as men and women came out to see what was happening, the faces of other family members pressed against the window panes. Kristdor waved them back as he approached the figure.
“Reveal yourself to us!”
The robed figures head turned tilting first one way and then another as it watched him as though trying to decide what to do with him. It left little doubt in Kristdor’s mind that it was indeed the killer they had been searching for. He raised his sword before him.
“Kris…” Vala called, unease stirring within her.
There was something wrong with the figure, with the way it held itself and the power she could feel emanating from it. She clutched at the stone that hung from her neck, an azure glow shining from it and reached into her satchel.
Kristdor took a step towards the glowing cage, licking dry lips and raising his blade before him. “Last chance. Show yourself!”
The robed figure hadn’t moved more than its head for several long seconds, just standing there with one hand part raised. A low hiss escaped it and before the astonished eyes of those watching, a black line ran down the skin of its wrist from beneath the sleeve of its robe.
Moving like water, it ran across the back of the robed figures hand and split, to travel down each of the fingers. It didn’t stop when it reached the end, just kept going until it formed claws almost two inches in length.
The watch captain took a step back, unable to take his eyes off of the figure and all the while, more of the darkness ran down its arm, thickening the lines and raising sharp ridges along the back of the hand.
“Kris…” Vala called once more as she raised her hands, speaking a word of power, and flame burst forth, straight towards the robed figure.
Kristdor jumped out of the way at the warning he heard in his sister’s voice and watched as the fire struck the cage and then went on to engulf the robed figure. What could only be laughter came from it as it lashed out with the claws it had grown and severed the lines of the cage with one blow.
It stepped forward as the cage fell apart, the glowing lines fading back to whence they came. Much of the robe was burned away revealing a slim figure whose skin was covered in the same impenetrable darkness that had formed the claws. Where it’s face should be was a blank mask that turned towards Kristdor.
“Kill it!” he screamed, scrambling to his feet and raising his sword.
A constable rushed in swinging his short sword towards the creature’s neck. It swayed easily to one side, hand flashing out and severing the arm of the constable without even turning its head towards him.
As the man fell screaming, Kristdor joined two more constables as they engaged it, slashing furiously. The creature parried every blow, the steel blades rebounding from the darkness as though it were the finest plate armour.
Its foot lashed out, clawed toes tearing through the steel breastplate of a constable and disembowelling him in one smooth motion as its left hand shot out, gripping tight to the second constables head and pulling back. He died screaming as the creature dropped what was left of his face to the cobbled ground.
Kristdor struck fast with short sword and truncheon but nothing seemed to faze the creature. It turned its blank face towards him and he fell back, sure that he was about to die.
A spear of ice hit it square in the chest, throwing it back a dozen feet to land on the road, limbs splayed and crimson mixing with the darkness, leaking from the puckered wound in its chest.
“Hah! Take that, beastie!” Vala called, punching the air with one fist.
Her smiled faded as the creature rose, the darkness smoothing over the wound and its blank face turning towards her. She gulped and reached for her satchel, hand grasping the first thing that came to hand, a small pebble.
With quick movements of her fingers and a few short sentences in the language of magic, she thrust her arms into the air, dust falling from her clenched hand and great spikes of stone bursting from the ground at the creature’s feet.
It screamed, pain filling the sound as bone broke and the darkness shattered. With slim hands it grasped the stone and closed its fingers, crushing it. Then, with a look at the mage, it leapt straight up into the air, landing on the wooden tiled roof of the house beside them.
“Follow it!” Kristdor yelled as more of his men finally came running into the street. They stared at the creature open-mouthed but leapt to obey as it set off across the rooftops.
He picked himself up as his sister reached him, ignoring the look of concern she wore and gesturing to the rubble that had been the stone she summoned.
“What?”
“It left something behind. Perhaps you can find out what it is.”
Vala looked at where he pointed, eyebrows rising as she saw splashes of black that looked to be the same as that worn by the creature. She bent down, peering at it and raised one finger to poke it.
“Is that a good idea?”
“Probably not,” she agreed.
Once more she reached into her bag, coming out with an empty vial that she unstoppered. Carefully, she scraped a quantity of the black s
ubstance into the vial and plugged it once again with the cork stopper.
“I’m going after the creature,” Kristdor said. “You coming?”
“My magic is spent,” she said waving him away. “I’ll wait here with these poor souls.”
“I’ll be back.”
She nodded wearily, hoping that he was telling the truth as she watched him run off after his men. As soon as he turned the corner, she raised the vial up to stare in at the strange substance. It was like nothing she’d ever seen before. A living darkness that was as hard as steel.
Vala shook her head, knowing whatever it was, it was far beyond anything she had heard of and that could only be bad for her and her city.
****
Kristdor turned a corner and skidded to a stop. Four more of his men were down on the ground and a fifth was held in the hands of the creature. It bent over him, face inches from the constables and the darkness shifted, splitting into four mandibles that stretched out past the terrified constables face before stabbing down.
They entered his skin without so much as a spatter of blood and before his aghast gaze, the mandibles pulsed as though something was moving up through them from the constable. He neither screamed nor struggled, just hung limp, his eyes rolling up as the creature fed on him.
With a scream of rage, Kristdor ran straight at the creature, his blade flashing out, severing one of the mandibles with a loud crack. The creature roared its fury as blood sprayed from the broken mandible.
It lashed out with one hand and he jumped back, four long marks scarring his breastplate. He parried the next blow with his truncheon and thrust once more with the sword. It skittered off of the black armour and he cursed as he leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding a killing swipe of its claws.
The creature dropped the man it held and faced him square on. Feet apart and legs braced, it was hunched over with hands outstretched before it. The mandibles sank back into the blank darkness of its face and Kristdor swallowed hard.
Without warning, it leapt towards him and he fell back against the door of a house, his shoulders thumping the wood moments before it hit him, and everything went dark.
Chapter 8
The inside of the flying ship was surprisingly well lit. Small globes the size of Mia’s hand were held in copper sconces on the wall and gave off a persistent glow that was almost warm and welcoming. A great deal different to the oil lanterns that had been used back at the inn.
Copper lines ran down from those sconces, moving along beams and down the ribs of the great wooden beast Mia was standing inside of, heading towards the front of the ship. There, set before the glass window was a console.
It seemed to her, to be all shiny brass and clear glass with levers and switches that were no doubt used in controlling the craft. There was a leather upholstered seat before it and Jochum settled into that as he reached for the controls.
“Take a seat where you can,” the warrior ordered brusquely. “We’ll be lifting off as soon as we can.”
The gnomish woman, Til, disappeared through a door set into the back wall that led further into the ship. Mia couldn’t help but notice more of the copper strips leading back beyond that wall. She shook her head, sure that she could ask questions later, but just then she needed somewhere to sit.
Wynn and Elva had seated themselves on a wooden bench that ran along the rear wall, letting them see out of the glass window, albeit poorly with the great shoulders of the warrior providing a solid barrier before it.
Syn tapped a burlap sack beside the one he had seated himself on, nestled between the wood burning stove and the wall. She hurried over and sank down beside him on the lumpy sack of what she suspected were potatoes.
“First time on an airship?” he asked with a grin that said he knew that to be the case. She nodded anyway, and he winked at her. “Me too.”
She gripped his offered hand and was surprised that he squeezed hers as much as she did his, betraying his nervousness that, for some reason, made her feel better. No doubt because it was just pleasant not to be the only one terrified for once.
Birds were meant for the air, not people. It was unnatural to think that the wooden craft would be able to move, let alone fly! She squeezed her eyes shut as a thin hum sounded throughout the ship and the hull began to vibrate softly.
“Be careful not to touch the copper wires,” Syn said, voice a hoarse whisper.
“Why not?” She was pleased for any distraction and clung to his words like a woman drowning would a reaching hand. “Is it dangerous?”
“The glass runes on the hull, you saw them, yes?” She nodded, lips clenched tight as the vibrations increased. “They contain the spells of levitation. The copper lets the power move from the engines to the runes.”
“W-why?” She reached over and clutched his upper arm with her free hand, pulling herself closer to him. He didn’t object as he clung to the stove.
“The spells are simple but complex, girl,” Wynn called. “The more power you feed them, the better they work and the more they lift this wreck.”
“Those propellers at the rear…”
“Propellers? You mean the windmill arms?”
“Yes.” Syn’s lips twitched at that. “They move us through the air and the sails that rise from the main mast and those smaller ones, port and starboard, they help control direction when we need to turn.”
“Y-you know a lot about it.”
She gave a little jump as the craft shifted in some indefinable way. A quick look towards the window and she let out a squeak of fear as the trees outside were moving. Or more accurately, they were standing still, and the airship was moving, upwards. She tightened her hold on Syn so much so that she feared she would break him.
“Can learn a lot hanging around the docks,” Wynn sneered.
“That would be where you would know more than me,” Syn responded without rancour. “I have no need to pay or be paid for my trysts. I doubt you can say the same.”
“Insolent cur.”
“Fat Pig.”
Mia stared at the two of them casually hurling insults at each other, wondering just who she had found herself running for her life with.
“Pay them no mind,” Elva said, seeing her look. “When things are tense they bicker using words that most would draw a blade over.”
“Pah, no words of that ciudat will affect me enough to draw a blade,” Wynn scoffed.
“W-what does that mean?” Mia asked Syn who shook his head and pressed it back against the hull.
“An unimaginative insult in the language of the Priyso people. His homeland before they kicked him out for eating all the pigs!”
The fat mages laughter filled the small room and Mia managed a smile, forgetting for a moment that they were rising into the air. Then she glanced at the window and saw just empty sky and felt her stomach churn.
“The girls going to be sick!” Wynn cackled. “Get a bucket. I’ve no mind to be inhaling that stench for the gods alone know how long.”
“I-I’ll be f-fine,” she stammered, swallowing the saliva that was filling her mouth. “Oh, gods!”
The airship shuddered, and she pressed a hand to her mouth but not before she messily lost the contents of her stomach all down the front of her dress. She closed her eyes, shaking her head and clamping her mouth together as she concentrated on not losing more control of her stomach.
She ignored the grousing of the mage and realised that despite the stench and the mess, Syn had kept a firm grip on her hand. She risked opening her eyes, cheeks flaming and found his smiling face watching her.
He reached over and wiped at her mouth with a white handkerchief pulled from some hidden pocket and she smiled shy thanks as she took the cloth from him.
The door opened, and the gnomish woman stepped inside, nose wrinkling at the odour. “Gonna be a long flight.” She stepped back out and slammed the door shut behind her.
Syn burst into laughter and a moment later, Mia followed suit. Elva sm
iled and turned her head to stare out the window while the mage crossed his arms over his substantial belly and sulked.
They settled down after a moment and waited in silence, each lost in their own thoughts as the ship moved through the air. It was a strange feeling for Mia and one that she wasn’t entirely sure she liked.
“Til!” Jochum called and was answered a moment later when the door opened once more.
“What?”
“Take the controls and I’ll settle out guests.”
“Great! Leave me in the room that stinks. Just fine!”
The small woman grumped as she crossed the cabin, but she did as he asked and when he vacated the leather seat, she climbed up onto it and leant forward over the controls. The warrior nodded his thanks and turned back to the rest of his companions.
“You can rise. We’re several hundred feet above the ground and safe from those villagers.”
Mia slowly released her hold on the thief and hesitated as though fearing she would fall. When nothing happened, she rose to her feet, conscious of her soiled clothing.
“We’ve no change of clothes for you but there’s barrels of water further back in the hold. You can wash them as best you can.”
“Thank you.”
“Tis no favour for you, girl,” Wynn snapped. “It’s to save us from the stench.”
“Enough,” Jochum said wearily. “We’ll arrive at the town of Olsis sometime just after nightfall. Once there we can get you some travelling gear.”
“Why Olsis?” Elva asked.
“Closest place with stocks of Ethereum.” He scratched at his chin, eyes distant. “From there we can head north-east and across the tail end of the windshields before entering the wilds proper. Will allow us to avoid the citadels and their patrols. I’ll need to stop in Rial on the way.”
The others exchanged glances and Mia wondered what that could mean but before she could ask, Wynn spoke.
“Will do no good to confront her before we fix what’s broken, lad.”
To Mia’s surprise, the big warrior’s cheeks reddened slightly as he shook his head.
“No. I have a cargo to deliver and if I don’t, I won’t be paid and will owe for the cargo besides. I’ll need that coin to pay for the Ethereum and supplies.”