Son of hell: Blood of wolves

by Michaela Burdová

  "Perhaps the sword I give you will do."

  "It would be an honour."

  Chapter 9

  Trust between Monsters

  To connect with the Thirteenth was much more difficult than Aragen had thought. She had found out that the Thirteenth was at large, but something was wrong. He had fled from the Twelfth and was in hiding in Breetia. With each track it was always the same story. Once Aragen had managed to find out something, she found out she was one step behind. Her wolves were no longer dying from birth defects and other diseases, as the Twelfth had promised, but he was dissatisfied with her work.

  She could not understand why it was so difficult to establish contact with the Thirteenth. Unless ...

  Unless the Thirteenth was no longer a demon.

  In the afternoon, Aragen took a walk with Drel. They found a small flower-covered meadow where they could be alone, with the exception of two Predators who stood guard. They were bodyguards for the leader, even though Aragen knew that she did not need any protection. Drel was picking daisies and for a moment Aragen felt like an ordinary girl. When Drel began to weave the daisies together, Aragen had to smile.

  "Tell me, Drel, has a man selected you yet?"

  Drel shook her head in sorrow. "No, nobody."

  It was not customary for girls of Drel’s age to have remained without a mate. Drel was thirty-five years old, which for werewolves was still a very young age, but she was no longer among the youngest. Every other female in the pack had become somebody’s wife. Among the Young there were only two girls and two boys. The children were increasingly stillborn and childbirth often took the life of the mother too. Since joining with the demon things had improved.Diseases had disappeared and the number of births had increased, but the threat still persisted that the darkwolves would be born ever dumber and weaker.

  "I think no man is interested in me," Drel complained bitterly. With her, Aragen always felt like it was old times. These were the times when the fate of the whole pack did not rest on her shoulders, when she did not have to deal with all the important and difficult issues at hand.

  “I understand that Gorin, Zanel, and Nurad still have no wives. Then there´s ...” Aragen paused and did not finish the sentence.

  "Kar," Drel continued for her, looking bitter.

  "I know that he´s not worthy of you," Aragen replied immediately. Drel was never likely to forget the night when he had tried to rape her.

  "He just doesn’t care for a wife. He prefers sleeping with other men’s wives. By the way, you forgot Wenir, ma'am."

  Aragen smiled. "Wenir is mine, Drel, although neither with his body nor soul, but he still belongs to me and he knows it. After the death of my sister he would not devote himself to another woman and I would not allow it anyway."

  "Would you like to possess Neran just like you possess Wenir?" Drel asked with curiosity. She finished weaving the daisies into a wreath and put it on her shaggy head. She grinned like a child. Aragen couldn´t help but do the same.

  "Eventually, Neran will be mine, Drel. He and Wenir are the only two men I’ve surrendered to. Both of them betrayed me. However, ... Neran’s betrayal was expected, so I'm not angry with him."

  Drel sighed until her narrow shoulders shook. "I’ve never felt anything like that. I would do anything to know such desire. I would even sacrifice the souls of those I care for."

  "One day, you’ll know it too. I believe that each of us is destined for it. Humans call it love, but it's really an obsession, Drel, an obsession that doesn´t let you sleep."

  "Maybe it's because I'm not pretty," Drel sighed again. "That's why nobody has chosen me."

  "Don´t say that. You're beautiful, trust me. Every woman is. We are all different in many ways, but what we have in common is a light that shines within us. Sometimes that light shines so bright and so strong that it intimidates men. The men simply live in fear of rejection by such women."

  Drel stared at her keenly, but seemed not to understand. Aragen clarified it for her. "You have such a light. Men don’t dare to choose you."

  "You really think so?"

  "I know so," said Aragen, taking Drel in her embrace. "I'm beginning to have a suspicion, Drel. I am unable to establish contact with the Thirteenth Demon, and that’s weird. I'll have to check it out. Honestly, I don’t understand it. How could a demon not be a demon?"

  * * *

  They escorted Neran through perhaps half of the entire wooden tunnel before they stopped and showed him his room. They brought him new clothes, food, and a pitcher of water. Neran sat down on a narrow bed lined with large green leaves and began to eat. It was roasted meat in herb sauce with a few pieces of winter fruit that only the elves knew how to grow.

  When his stomach was satisfied, he looked at the pile of clothes that they had left on his bed. On closer inspection he knew immediately that he would only use the black linen shirt. Everything else seemed too ... elven.

  That decision made, he now wanted to take a bath. He was covered in blood, dirt, and sweat. So, he left his cabin and headed down one of the long corridors to find someone whom he could ask for a tub of water. It was remarkable how the tunnel retained the heat.It was only made of wood and it was freezing outside ... Maybe it was magic.

  “Élia!” he shouted when he saw the elven walk out through one of the holes. He popped his head through the curtain of beads into the freezing weather outside.“Élia!”

  The elven came back to him. "What do you need, Neran?"

  "Well," Neran pointed to his chest. "I would like to wash away the remains of Karnelos’ men."

  The elven smiled slightly. "Come with me."

  She escorted him through the trees towards some adjacent cabins and beyond, passing other elves along the way. As they approached the outskirts of the village the air filled with dense steam that rose from a scattering a small pools.

  "These are forest hot springs," Élia explained. "This is where we come to bathe and rest." Neran looked through the steam and noticed a few blue-haired heads just above the waterline. Élia led him to a smaller pool close by which was empty.

  "The springs are not only curative, but also remove dirt without the need to use soap. I'll ask somebody to bring you a towel and your new clothes."

  "Thanks Élia."

  "Take a rest. After all you´ve been through, you need it."She left him with a smile and disappeared. It seemed to Neran that she had a knack for disappearing just before he could say or ask anything.

  He looked around and when he saw nothing but trees and snow, he took off his trousers and jumped into the pool. The water was quite hot and the cold he had felt immediately left him. The pool was shallow so he could sit on the bottom with his shoulders above water. He leaned his back against the edge of the pool, resting his arms along the top rim. The snow around the pool had melted allowing short grass to grow there.

  Neran closed his eyes and tried to expel all thoughts from his head. He would rest, just as Élia had advised him.

  He found it extremely difficult because he could not help but think that somewhere out there one of the Thirteen might be walking freely...

  Someone unexpectedly touched his shoulder with their soft hands. He opened his eyes in shock and turned to see who it was. Liadel was kneeling behind him, her slender fingers gently massaging the muscles of his shoulders and neck. He stared at her in amazement.

  "What-what are you doing here?" he mumbled, feeling uneasy. Liadel smiled her usual cold smile. Her coldness and mystique perfectly matching the country and the landscape around them.

  "I came to see how you were doing," she replied, as she continued to gently knead his muscles. Her touch became increasingly more pleasant and Neran had the feeling that the weight of the world was being lifted off his shoulders.

  "Do you like it?" she asked with a mysterious grin. Neran suppressed a pleasurable purr and instead gave her an angry look.

  "What do you want?"

  "You're all muscle, is your body al
l natural?"

  "What?"

  Liadel laughed, pulled her hands away, and sat down on the edge of the pool, her thigh almost touching Neran’s outstretched arm. He quickly pulled his hand into the water.

  "Listen," he said sternly. "I don’t know what you want from me, but right now is not a good time ..."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I'm naked!"

  "C’mon," the elven waved her hand. "I've seen lots of naked men, so don’t think you're something special."

  Neran turned red with shame and anger. "I thought you were locked up in Karnelos’ castle."

  "It wasn´t that long. What is a couple of years next to a dry old man in comparison to the rowdy centuries before that in the company of mature men and elves?"

  Neran swallowed sheepishly. He looked her over and found that he could easily imagine the seductively twisting Liadel in the company of lovesick men.

  He felt himself blush and quickly looked away, focusing on the pool´s surface. He began to sweat.

  "It's time to have a talk," Liadel started seriously.

  "Alright. My first question: Why haven´t you turned this village into dust yet?"

  Liadel tightened her lips. "Why would I do that?"

  "Because you are the Thirteenth Demon."

  There was silence. He turned to look at her. Neran suddenly realized that there was far more humanity in her eyes than in bygone years.

  "Where do I know you from?" Liadel asked.

  "Well, it's a very nice story. We met, we fell in love, and with all your love you nearly tortured me to death."

  Liadel frowned. "Be serious."

  "It´s true about the torture. I hate to think about it, but you must know that cutting flesh, breaking bones ... is not enjoyable. You turned me into an animal. Two months later I ran away. I can remember very little else. I was just a ... freak."

  Liadel looked searchingly into his face as if willing herself to remember. She showed no sign of remorse or guilt. Neran had not even expected it. "Why would I do that?"

  "You wanted to devour my heart."

  Suddenly the memory hit her. He saw it in her eyes. The understanding, insight, everything falling into place. "Yes," she whispered. "Twenty-three years ago ... just before I received my soul as a gift."

  "You received what?"

  "I needed strength and more power. I had consumed most of it to break the curse of bondage. I killed elves, my own people, and ate their hearts to regain my energy in order to free my brothers. It wasn´t enough... It was still too little..." she spoke as if in a dream, as if she could not stop. Neran could see that she was imagining it all before her very eyes. He too had flashbacks about the past, although he did not desire them.

  "Then I ran into you. A lone weer worf. I tortured you so that you would sacrifice yourself. It was the only way. By eating your heart I would gain your strength."

  "I was a hard nut to crack."

  "You resisted me ... for a very long time."

  "You were persistent too. Your torture practices were, let’s say ... creative."

  Liadel looked straight at him. "No words can atone for my cruelty. Nor a plea for forgiveness ..."

  "Exactly, so don’t even bother. Well, I wouldn’t believe you anyway."

  "I'm different now. I was given a soul, I swear."

  "So what?"

  My darkness is chained and trapped inside me. I'm an elven again, and mortal. I can no longer do wicked things."

  Neran moved a little closer to her face and whispered: "I'll never believe that."

  "If you didn´t believe it, or at least partly, you would never talk to me so rudely."

  "Why? Out of fear? Do you think I'm afraid of you? Believe me, fear is not what I feel. After months of torture, I’ve developed different feelings for you. Repulsion, contempt, hatred, aversion... Should I continue?"

  "So you want to kill me? You can. I’m no match for your strength or power. It would be easy."

  "If I could, I would have done it as soon as I got out of jail. Unfortunately, I need you."

  "You need me? You have no assurance that I’ll help you."

  "I have only one tiny chance, and if what you’ve told me is true, it will work."

  Liadel looked sceptical.

  "What is it?"

  "First, I want to see how you respond to my proposal."

  "So, do you believe that my soul came back?"

  "I don’t and I’ll never believe anything you say. But ... in return for your freedom and for the torture I endured, I need to know where to find the Tears of Étarlina."

  She raised her eyebrows. "The Tears of Étarlina? You're one of the few who believe that they exist."

  "I need them. So, where can I find them?"

  "Do you realize that if I were still a demon, I would never help you, because none of your arguments would apply to me?"

  "Even when I say Nakä.”

  Liadel’s eyes widened.

  "How do you know that word?" she whispered.

  "I know a few things about the elves. I know a little about your mythology as well. So it works, doesn’t it?"

  Liadel angrily tightened her lips. "You have no right..."

  "I have. According to the legend you must repay your debt. When a human gives an elf their freedom and utters the magic word Nakä, the elf must repay the debt to the human. It´s true isn´t it?"

  "But you're not human."

  "I'm half human. You can feel it in your bones that you must comply."

  "You shouldn´t have done it."

  "Even if you're a demon, you still have something of the elf inside you, right? It occurred to me during our first meeting when you changed from darkness into the form of an elven. Why did you choose an elven specifically?"

  "You don’t know this part of our history? Then again, the elves don’t boast about it too much.After all, they brought it a bit upon themselves."

  "So, what happened?"

  "Maybe one day you’ll hear about it."

  "Agreed. Now please repay your debt."

  "I would have repaid it even without the use of magic. With your apprehension, you’ve insulted my honour."

  "What do I care?" Neran snapped scornfully. "You don’t have any anyway."

  She was as swift as a snake. She grabbed his Adam's apple with her slender fingers and squeezed hard. Neran wheezed as his breath was caught in his throat.

  "Don´tyou ever insult me again," Liadel hissed into his face. He grabbed her wrist in retaliation, raising himself out of the water to get an advantage, and squeezed. She cried out and let go. Both knew that he could crush her bones in an instant.

  He half expected a counterattack, the onset of some power, which he knew, which he had witnessed, and the fear of which he had overcome. He braced himself, ready for the fight.

  Nothing happened.

  Liadel knelt before him, her face contorted with pain. He released her. She might after all be telling the truth...

  He then realized that he was standing in front of her completely naked. He quickly plunged into the water, his ears burning. Liadel turned away from him, clutching her bruised wrist.

  "Now you can see that I'm mortal."

  "Maybe it's a trick. Maybe you want to play me for a fool."

  "Why would I do that?"

  "A demon will always find a reason," he shrugged. "So where do I find the Tears of Étarlina?"

  "You can find them in the Teardrop Forest, in the land of the Yviel Kingdom."

  Neran pondered for a moment. He had never heard of the Teardrop Forest. "If you´re lying to me ..."

  "I cannot lie. You've used our ancient magic on me, remember?

  Neran slipped a little deeper into the pool. "I'll ask the chief for a map."

  "Please do," Liadel snapped. "Nothing binds us together any more. I hope that happiness and peace accompanyyou on your life's journey."She got up and began to leave, but Neran called after her:

  "The Northern Elves don’t know that you are
the Thirteenth, do they?"

  "No, but perhaps I don’t need to remind you that they will never believe you. For twenty-one years I was the Lady of Breetia and a secret ally of the Northern Elves. I won and had their respect. They would not believe the word of a Son of Hell."

  With that, she left. Neran was angry. Whether she had a soul or not, she deserved some form of punishment! He was probably not the right one to judge her, but revenge would be sweet! And now that he finally knew where to look for the Tears of Étarlina, there was nothing to prevent him from killing her. After all, if she had been telling the truth, she was mortal. The idea thrilled him completely. He suddenly felt the urge to bite through her throat! Yes, tonight...

  The map of the Northern Elves looked old, but to the touch it was as smooth as planed polished wood. It was made of a special green paper on which distinctive black symbols had been drawn. Neran stood outside the cabin with the map stretched out in front of him. He had been examining it for quite a while, but could not find what he was looking for.

  "The bitch lied to me," he muttered to himself. The chief overheard him.

  "Young man, what exactly are you looking for?"

  Neran strongly despised being addressed as "young man," but refrained from protesting."The Teardrop Forest," he replied hesitantly."Have you ever heard of it?"

  "Well, well," was the elf’s only response. Neran looked at him with curiosity, but the chief remained silent, looking beyond the snow-covered tree tops into nothingness. "The legends about the forest are ancient."

  "And what do they say?"

  “They talk about the Teardrop Forest as a place of magic ruled by Dryad Oteyla.”

  "Nothing more?"

  "It is impossible to find."

  "What?"

  "They say that the Teardrop Forest is invisible. No one knows where to look for it, but even if one knew they would not be able to see it."

  Neran wanted to tear the map up into tiny pieces. "Damn."

  "Why are you interested in the forest, young man?"

  Neran gritted his teeth in irritation at the address. "They say the Tears of Étarlina can be found there."

  Chief Kei-Sai raised his eyebrows. "Really?"