by Lisa Daniels
“Well. If they can make it out of the Fractured City, surely they can all climb the mountain as well?”
Erlandur shook his head. “There’s other ways to cross the mountain. We just took the fastest one.”
Faith hissed in pain as he dabbed at her thigh. “What’s with this cave? Why does it have things in it that look like someone was living here?”
“Because someone was. There are human and werewolf nomads right by and in the Fractured City itself. I encountered some of them on my first venture. There are some plentiful sections of land here, if you can be bothered to risk living in the heartland of the Shadows.”
“Huh. Was that what you were so tight lipped about? Because I knew you were holding something back.”
Erlandur finished his ministrations upon Faith, and placed her clothes back on as she shivered uncontrollably. Part of her felt oddly disappointed he had not looked at her in the way she expected men to do so – with lust, with longing.
She pointed at the misshaped armor. “Here, let me help you with yours. The armor is bent into you. That will restrict breathing.”
“I’m fine,” he dismissed, waving off her efforts, before wincing, not convincing her in the slightest.
“Don’t be a baby. This needs to happen. That armor and those robes need to come off, so I can do the same thing you just did to me.”
He wrestled with the idea for a moment, but Faith didn’t give him the chance to turn her down. She helped unclasp his armor, pushing it off his body and dropping it gently to the ground. He protested more, but she silenced him with a deadly glare.
She took off his clothes one by one, until his bare skin showed.
Faith paused for a moment, seeing the crisscross of black veins, the discolored patches of skin. Erlandur didn’t look into her face as she inspected him, noting how the veins extended all the way across his arms and chest. Beautiful muscles protruded from his skin, and she tried not to gape or start openly drooling as she grabbed a cloth, wet it, and daubed it over his bruised skin.
“So this is the secret you wanted to hide,” she said, shaking her head. “The same thing Yarrow has. No wonder you could give her useful advice.”
Erlandur said nothing. He stared at the ceiling of their cave, his face stormy in the light of his affliction being revealed.
“Do you hear the voices?” Faith’s voice fell soft, as she dabbed at his skin, let her hands touch the strong muscles that constantly supported that heavy armor she had freed him from.
After a long while, Erlandur focused his gaze upon her dark eyes, and said, “Yes. I have learned to deal with them though. Yarrow is still in the process of managing.”
Yeah. Except I’ve seen you suffering at night, whispering to the voices that ring in your head.
She finished with his body, though he didn’t bother getting dressed afterwards. When she asked him what the plan was, he merely smiled. “We’ll find a way out of here. If there’s a cave, then there’s a way out. But first, we need to rest. You’re not going anywhere until you’ve slept properly.”
“But what about the others?”
“I’ll look for them.”
“No.” Faith’s hand reached out for his. She clasped at his warm palms. “Don’t leave me alone. With… these.” She glanced towards the two crushed wolves.
Erlandur sighed. “Bother,” he said. “Perhaps you’re right. I shouldn’t split us up now.”
His thumb pushed into her hand, soothing her for a moment, quelling the escalating fear in her heart and mind.
“Is it just me, or do we have something here?” He asked then, not taking his gaze away from her. He lightly inhaled the aroma from her hands, sending a strange thrill inside Faith.
How long had it been since she desired someone? Wanted to be desired?
“There might be something,” she conceded, flicking him a sultry smirk. “I suppose it depends on what you see in me.”
“Or what you see in me,” he whispered back softly.
“You first.”
He sighed. “In you, I see a person. She’s strong, she’s brave, and she’s alone.”
Faith swallowed, eyes expanding, an unwelcome lump of emotion wedged in her throat.
“She watches those around her, confident she can never be touched, knowing that people hate her for it. You’re used to being on a level above everyone else, but that still doesn’t mean you like it. People see Faith the warrior, Faith the slayer. They don’t see you.” He raised up his bare arms then, showcasing the blackened veins, the dark contusions on his skin. “People don’t see me anymore, either. The taint has made me strong. My knowledge gives me insight that others barely struggle to touch. But it also means I can’t associate with anyone, anymore. Not even my little sister. All I have are my nightmares, and a certainty that I can’t fail. Because if I fail, then everything fails.”
Sadness welled into her blood. Ah. The lonely warrior. The lonely God. She brushed his cheek with one palm, taking a deep breath. “I see these things in you too, Erlandur Malgrave. There’s something heavy on your shoulders, something heavy in your heart. I don’t need intuition to grasp that.” She smiled, her heart beating a little faster, mice wriggling in her stomach. “Let me thaw whatever it is that holds your heart prisoner, then. Even if it’s only for a short while. These veins don’t bother me. They are what make you strong.”
Erlandur said nothing for a moment. Then, he advanced closer to Faith, pushing her onto the bed, and capturing her lips in a deep, greedy kiss.
Heat flared in Faith’s core. Oh. Oh.
She grasped at his arms, at his clothes, pulling him closer to her.
Their breaths hissed raggedly against one another, as they gave into whatever emotion lay stuck in their hearts, never seeing the light of day. Emotions drowning in darkness. His aroma overpowered her senses, his muscles rippled. The moves flared in Faith’s mind, how to block each of his motions, how to flip him over and take charge, like she always did – but she suppressed everything.
She didn’t want to take charge.
She didn’t want to keep everything locked away, never seeking release. Her mouth pressed into his with hunger, her fingers grasped at him, and her legs splayed to let him wedge between her thighs, his heat igniting every place he touched.
Their clothes peeled off in the tussle, in the attack of each other’s bodies, minds and souls, and her core ached, longing for him, longing for the thing she had never had.
The cold seemed to evaporate from the room, and they bathed in one another’s heat, in the press of bare skin, of sighs and rustling movements as their bodies tangled together. His hardness, now exposed, jabbed against her stomach, and when he finally slid inside her, she rolled her eyes back in pleasure, giving herself into the moment, allowing them both to be transported to a faraway place, where all their walls had come down, leaving them open to one another’s pain.
Maybe it wasn’t quite love, but her heart swelled, expanding into the empty spaces, making her feel more full and complete than before.
The seed of an idea formed in her mind, the notion that maybe another future existed, past the cold and the constant fighting, until exhaustion caused her body to thump on the ground, and consume her soul.
She saw a future by Erlandur’s side, fighting the darkness with him. Lonely together.
She came with a soft cry, as he buried his face into her neck, lips lightly caressing, treasuring her for who she was.
When he came a few moments after her, they lay side by side for a long time afterwards, saying nothing, just holding.
Nothing needed to be said.
Chapter Four
When Faith woke up, she first found herself greeted by an empty bed, and not Erlandur’s slumbering form as she had hopefully anticipated. Her body ached, both in a good and bad way, and she forced herself upright in the sheets. She saw the undead wolves, who looked a lot better for wear now. The one she landed on no longer dragged its feet upon the ground.
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They’re regenerating?
It certainly looked like it. Where in curses was Erlandur, though? Puzzled, she went to relieve herself, then pulled on her clothes, teeth chattering as she did so. The black knight obviously had a lot on his mind, but part of Faith wished he might have at least stuck around for her to wake up, and to give himself the rest he clearly needed.
The river’s trickling magnified in sound through the cavern, sounding like a constant gurgle and babble, soothing and disconcerting at the same time.
Where in blasted skies was he? She rubbed her eyes, annoyed. What did she expect from Erlandur, exactly? People like Faith didn’t grow attached in that way. Didn’t love. Not without dire consequences. People died all the time in the Lunar Wastes. Only through constant vigilance did anyone survive, through hours of training and patrols, of never giving a chance for the Shadows to win. Yet, despite herself, she had grown fond of Erlandur Malgrave.
Something in the way he stood as he surveyed others, lonely but powerful at the same time. It was as if a personal blizzard whorled around him, obscuring him from the sight of everyone else. The wolves were his barrier, circling on the edges, and he shared nothing, not even with the sister he grew up with, loved, and left.
Something about that loneliness called to Faith. She sat on a pedestal as well, not quite as condemned as Erlandur, with the marked veins, the Shadow blood coursing through, but she did stand somewhere no one else could reach.
Even with her former passion to annihilate Shadows, she felt empty as she did it. Battle wasn’t fun, just a mechanic she did well. Sure, sometimes she got herself in the mood, but the Shadows kept coming. They never stopped.
Now this man offered an answer to their plight, but played his cards close to his chest. He had seen things in that city. Something that convinced him to keep going.
But whatever made him leave home in the first place?
I like him more than I’m willing to admit. But like? Affection? That won’t stop either of us dying. It didn’t stop us suffocating in the death zone. Tumbling through space from the avalanche, by the Shadow that shouldn’t have been there.
Almost as if they were prepared. Expecting the scouts to come, to make it through the mountain.
No way can we send our whole army through that.
Fully dressed and armed, she hovered by the entrance to the cave. No sense disappearing, in case he made it back and found her absent. Still, she itched to move. To do something other than wait around for events to occur.
Acting was so much better than merely reacting.
To calm her fraying nerves, she did some stretches, limbering up her muscles, focusing on her breathing and making sure she drowned out the sound of the trickling water behind.
“What is this?” The voice carried across the dimly lit cavern.
Faith started in fright when she turned, and stared directly into the cold black eyes of a Shadow. One that wore a female form.
How in the world had she not sensed that foul creature? Instantly she unsheathed her blades, taking a battle-ready stance.
The Shadow’s lips curled in a dry, sardonic smile. “We knew the caves under the mountain would be used at some point. But to see someone like you? Ah…” the Shadow stepped closer, before hesitating. “You seem… familiar, somehow.”
Not wanting to give the Shadow anymore time to prepare, Faith lunged.
The Supreme, to her surprise, unsheathed a blade as well, and sidestepped the attack. The blade spun at her size, and Faith perfectly avoided it, in-stepping forward for the uppercut she knew the Shadow wouldn’t avoid in time.
Except, it did.
What?
Their swords clashed together in a frightening blur of movement, each duellist avoiding blows, slamming attacks into one another.
The Shadow seemed just as surprised as Faith as they both danced, both mirroring each other’s moves, neither able to get the upper hand.
The opening should be here! Three successive hits, but then she felt in her intuition, the Shadow planning to exploit her momentum, she stopped, then anticipated the attack, then anticipated the change of tactic –
Her mind overloaded with confusion – the Shadow kept changing, as if they were both playing a mental game where they saw each other’s moves, thousands of steps ahead.
Impossible.
The blade snaked past Faith’s defenses for the first time in her life, the same moment she struck the Shadow. Both opponents leapt back, the Shadow hissing in shock, Faith trembling from the fresh crimson wound near her clavicle.
She’d never been hit. Never.
Realization struck her like a thunderbolt. “You’re a combat Shadow.”
The Shadow hesitated. “I have never seen another combat witch before. So many moves… so far ahead. So hard to see…”
Both fighters had momentarily stopped, stunned by the revelation.
“There is only one bloodline that has the power. You must be of the same blood as my body.” The Shadow leered, and something about the jawline made Faith pause. It looked eerily like her father’s jawline.
“Who are you?” Wrong. “Who were you?”
They both began circling again, unwilling to take eyes off one another. The scent of danger intoxicated them, made their bodies tremble.
“I see the memories,” the Shadow murmured. “The memories of this body, so long ago… why, she was gone before your time, but you must be her flesh, her blood. Your necklace. I recognize it. That used to be mine – hers.”
No.
“My grandmother.” Faith gaped, her hands shaking, nerveless.
“Perhaps. It took hundreds of us to wear her down. And I have never been beaten since. It’s a good body. A strong one.” The Shadow smiled brilliantly, a manic gleam in its dead eyes. “Will you be the one to beat me? Will you? Will you?” With a frenzied roar, the Shadow dashed forward.
Faith barely avoided the blow, the mental game panning out again in her brain. Strike after strike. Dodge after dodge. Neither could outmatch the other.
For the first time, along with the fresh cut, Faith realized she was fighting for her life.
The terror flooded her, along with a deep surge of adrenaline. Her eyes hardened in resolve. The trembles in her arms stopped as she set her jaw grimly.
They continued their elaborate dance, hacking at one another, neither willing to stop, to slip up enough in the mental game so that one of them crashed out forever.
It disturbed Faith, dimly, on a level, to see that the Supremes were all Shadows that had hosted themselves in powerful witch bodies. They wore the faces of those long dead and stole the magic, warping it to their twisted desires.
Candles scattered about as Faith jumped and ran over a table, avoiding a scything blow, tumbling towards the Supreme and hacking at their heels.
Anticipate. It knows everything I’m doing, and I know everything it’s doing.
She stopped suddenly and leapt backwards, just in time to avoid a crackling bolt of lightning. Her attention turned on another Supreme – the same bastard that had caused the avalanche on the mountains. It sneered.
“I notice you’re having trouble with the human. I thought you were supposed to be the best,” the newcomer hissed. “Always insisting you should be head of the council.”
“Watch out,” the Shadow using her grandmother’s body snapped, “she’s the same as me!”
The newcomer zapped out more black lightning, and Faith swerved, just moving enough to avoid the licking tendrils of her demise, hurtling towards the Supreme which could not predict her movements in the same way.
She halted and ducked, rolling clear of the combat Supreme’s assault. Of course, the Supreme knew she intended to take out the weak link…
One movement possibility ignited her brain. Her heart pounded faster as she considered in a split second, before letting a scream rip out her throat.
She dived forwards, blocking everything the combat Supreme delivered her way.
“Run!” The combat Supreme flung the warning at its companion. “Don’t be stupid, you can’t take this one.”
“How dare you tell me what to do…”
Faith allowed the combat Supreme to stab her through the side. She winced but in one fell swoop, swept the lightning Supreme’s blocking hands aside and decapitated it. In the same movement, she levelled a slash towards the combat Supreme, who was forced to let go before she eliminated it from the world.
Footsteps could be heard resounding in the narrow chasm outside the cave. The Supreme chuckled as Faith continued her advance, lumbering because of the injury.
“I look forward to fighting you again. You might be the one to kill me. You might…” a strange, almost fond smile stretched its lips, before it backed away, beginning to dissolve into the walls, out of the sphere of influence of Faith’s living body.
Faith gasped, swords clattering from her hands. The pain surged through the adrenaline haze. It shouldn’t be a fatal wound, she deliberately plotted that out – but the blood loss and pain rapidly spiraled her system into shock.
Erlandur burst into the cavern, gaping at the dead Supreme, followed by others – others Faith didn’t recognize.
“Faith!” Erlandur flung himself beside her, eyes darting frantically from her face to her wound. “No! What happened?”
“By the moon,” one of Erlandur’s companions whispered. “She killed a Supreme.”
Borderline worship slid across his face – his black veined face. Faith stared at him through her blossoming fever. What was this?
Who were these people?
“Ssh. It’s okay.” Erlandur seemed truly panicked, hand twitching as he grasped the blade. “Should I?”
“No,” one of the companions said, her voice low, almost a growl. “Take her to our care unit. That blade is serrated. It may cause more damage coming out of her than going in. She’ll have more chance with our med unit.”
“What’s going on?” Faith’s voice rasped, as she clutched at Erlandur’s armor. “Who…?”