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Revenant Winds (The Tainted Cabal Book 1)

Page 26

by Mitchell Hogan


  Aldric ground his teeth. “You’re not serious.”

  “I am.” Niklaus leaned forward, resting one arm on the table. “There are more things in this world than anyone will ever know. From the Dead-eyes to the wraithes, to the gigantic metal cube the wanderers live in out in the wastes. Hells, man, even here the ruins are unknown, unexplored. There are things inside that would make your skin crawl and maybe even cause your god to flinch. One man can’t know everything. I’ve been alive long enough to at least realize that.”

  His tone made Aldric pause; it was dark and melancholy. Perhaps it was a front Niklaus put on. Although so far, Niklaus hadn’t been the type to put on airs or even to deceive him. In fact, he’d been brutally honest.

  “What kills them?” he asked, testing the mercenary.

  “Steel. Nothing else that I know of. They’re stronger than Dead-eyes, but not as quick.”

  Aldric remembered how the creature had overwhelmed him. He was naturally fit and trained to keep himself in shape, but he’d been like a child against it—until Soki had injured the thing. He rubbed his eye and thought about how easily Soki could have been killed.

  “We need to get started as soon as we can,” he said. “The quicker we leave, the quicker we’ll be back.”

  Niklaus grunted. “I agree. This Stray Dog is coming along?”

  “Yes.”

  “Strange name. Melodramatic sort, is he?”

  Aldric shrugged. “Hiding from his past maybe. But I judge him to be a trustworthy fellow. And he’ll be good in a fight.”

  Niklaus chuckled. “You also judge your Church to be trustworthy, yet here you are. Here we are.”

  Aldric wouldn’t have this mercenary questioning his Church. No matter how skilled with a blade he was, Niklaus couldn’t understand the concept of devotion to something greater than himself. But all he said was, “My instincts are good. We leave at dawn, as planned. What about this priestess of yours?”

  “She’s not mine. And she’s a high priestess. She’s coming with us.”

  A high priestess. Aldric couldn’t believe it. What was she doing joining their mission? Nothing good, he warranted.

  “Is she going to be a problem?”

  Niklaus hesitated. He toyed with the bottle of spirits, rocking it gently back and forth on the table. “No. She’s foisted herself on me—on us—for her own reasons. I don’t know what they are, but I’ll find out. Then there’ll be a reckoning.”

  What a mess.

  “Just be ready in a few hours,” Aldric said. “And I’d stop drinking if I were you.”

  Niklaus chuckled. “If you were me, you’d never stop. I’ll be ready. I’ll catch an hour’s sleep in one of the rooms upstairs. Worry about yourself—you look like you’ll have trouble resting. Oh, and we’ll pick up Bryn on the way. He has an … engagement at dawn.”

  Aldric frowned. “Isn’t he working for us now that you’ve paid him?”

  “He’s just keeping his skills sharp. It won’t take long.”

  “Just make sure he’s ready,” Aldric said, and made his way outside.

  His face was hot as he fumed at the debacle this mission was turning into. His own Church keeping him in the dark. Niklaus’s Church using both the mercenary and a high priestess to try to get what they wanted.

  He looked into the sky. Dark clouds were sweeping in from the east, and even the light of Chandra and Jagonath together wasn’t bright enough to penetrate them. Rain was on the way. He sighed. Not the best weather to set off in, but he couldn’t worry about that.

  Right now, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep, a visit to Etia was in order. He’d put off returning after his fruitless discussion with Hannus. But now, before he left Caronath, he felt he had to at least inform her that he was leaving. And perhaps seek her guidance.

  ~ ~ ~

  He trudged up the last few yards of the hill on which Rafic-ur-Djasir stood. The rough obsidian seemed darker than black, as if it ignored the light of the stars and the moons.

  He drew in a sharp breath when he realized no finches perched on the temple. He cast his gaze about, trying to spot some of the red birds, but to no avail.

  Offerings still littered the ground around the pyramid’s base: a jumble of foodstuffs and bowls of liquids, along with the ghoulish mummified animals.

  There was no sign of the little girl either, but he hadn’t expected to see her this early in the morning.

  He made his way through the shadows around the base of the pyramid to the section where the door had opened before. “Etia!” he called, then again when there was no response.

  Silence was the only reply.

  He waited a while in the chill early morning air. Eventually, he placed a hand on the stone. It was warm to the touch. Hopefully, Etia still lived. She would need assistance if she was to arrest her decline and remain protected from the Tainted Cabal. But there was nothing he could do if she refused him entry, or to speak with him.

  Aldric made his way back down the hill with the uneasy sense he was missing something important. He wondered if it would cost him his life.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Uncertainties

  WOODEN SHUTTERS BANGED IN the wind, and the flimsy curtains billowed. Moonlight shone across the polished wooden floor. Niklaus didn’t remember opening the windows. In fact, he’d made sure the latches were tightly locked in case someone who wanted him dead climbed through. He squinted in the semidarkness, hand reaching for his sword hanging in its scabbard over the bedpost. He stopped, eyes widening.

  A silhouette stood just inside the window opening, lit from behind by the cold white sliver of Chandra shining through a break in the storm clouds. His eyes traced the outline of her sensuous curves, lingering on the feathered wings that loomed over her head. She was here. Sylva had come to reward him. It was only the fifth time he’d seen her.

  Niklaus drew his hand away from her sword, breath catching in his throat. Heat rose to his face and swirled down to his groin. A brush of air caressed his bare chest, carrying with it a strong scent of leather overlaid with musk and spices.

  She stood there for long moments, unmoving, yet enticing. Then, with silent steps, she padded toward him. Her dress was nearly transparent, revealing as much as it concealed, offering him tantalizing glimpses of her curves. Her not quite nakedness sent a delicious shiver through him.

  Sylva Kalisia climbed onto the bed and sat astride him, her movements as graceful as a panther, her weight pressing his hips deeper into the mattress, the tops of her feet resting lightly on his thighs. Her delicate dress rippled in the breeze, molding to her sensual body. Stretching to either side, her wings blotted out the moonlight, covering him in her shadow.

  Niklaus scarce trusted himself to breathe. His heart hammered in his chest, and his mouth was dry. He dared not move, but the temptation to grab her, to roll her over, and press himself against her was almost overwhelming.

  Her slanted violet eyes traveled over his face and body with a feral shamelessness that stopped his breath. She leaned over, and the tips of her midnight hair brushed across his face. She gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh, and dragged her silken hair over his tingling skin. Both hands pressed him down, and he railed against the constraint even as he reveled in feeling her full weight on him, longing for the touch of her sex against his.

  A sound like a snap of cloth as her wings flapped once, sending cooling air redolent with her scent across his skin. There was something animal about her—heat and smell and closeness—that spoke to his soul. He couldn’t think straight. Where their flesh touched, he burned with an intensity that both aroused and frightened him. He groaned wordlessly. The pressure in his groin intensified to the point it was almost painful. He ached for her. How could his heart hammer so hard?

  Her long silken hair dragged across his chest as she moved across and down his body. The coolness of her palms trailed across his sweaty chest. He reached for her, and his calloused hands pressed against
firm breasts, her dark nipples hard. He wanted to take her, thrust deep into her fiery core. He would make her beg for mercy!

  She dissolved into nothingness, like evaporating mist. His hands closed around empty air. Her tinkling laugh sounded in his ears, close yet far away, filled with delight and promises and lust. Without seeming to move, she was now beside his bed. Her silken hair brushed across his naked torso again. Her breath blew hotly into his ear. Her burning lips brushed his skin.

  “There are forces arrayed against us,” she purred. “The world hangs in balance. Beware the ruin. The Tainted Cabal seek to bring forth a final cataclysm.”

  A rush of cold air as she backed away.

  “Don’t go!” he pleaded.

  She floated backward to the window, a mischievous smile playing across her deep red lips. Fabric snapped as a strong gust of wind blew through the opening. The curtains billowed, draping her. Niklaus blinked. When the wind subsided and the curtains dropped, Sylva Kalisia was gone.

  Niklaus woke, gasping for air. The window was still closed and latched. Sweat soaked his body and dripped down his sides onto the bedsheets. He cursed, struggling to sit up. His manhood throbbed painfully, as hard as rock. His limbs trembled, cold with sweat.

  The goddess had touched him, promising unearthly delights and power. She watched over him with her divine love.

  He lay back down and covered his aching loins with the blanket, but sleep never came. His skin prickled, alive to the promise of her touch. His member remained hard. His ears tuned to the darkness. Hoping for her return.

  ~ ~ ~

  Zarina was staring at Kurio from across the room while engaged in a heated argument with Mellish. The barrel-chested man must have come in a hurry, as sweat darkened the armpits and collar of his linen shirt.

  When Mellish paused, Zarina scowled and rubbed the back of her neck. She beckoned to Kurio, who hurried to obey. The woman was cold, ruthless, and cunning—and, if Kurio trusted her instincts, desperate.

  The memory of the pain still lingered, making her scared and timid. But underneath, in her very core, was a kernel of hatred that gave her strength.

  “What haven’t you told us?” Zarina demanded. “Speak, woman! This is no game. If the demons triumph, we’ll all be corpses. Or worse.”

  “N-nothing,” Kurio stuttered. What was worse than being a corpse?

  “Do you want more pain?” Zarina threatened.

  Kurio felt her bowels loosen and clenched her muscles tight. She licked her dry lips, thinking furiously.

  “Maybe … I just remembered … there’s one thing. After Gannon told me his research had been destroyed, he said there was a ruin that had recently been found. A passing comment, as if of no importance. Something about the Churches investigating it. That’s all I know. I swear.”

  “That matches what I’ve—”

  “Shush, Mellish,” Zarina said softly. She stared at Kurio for a few long moments, then shook her head. “We have no choice.”

  “That’s what I’ve been saying,” Mellish agreed. “If both the Cabal and the Churches are interested. And with what we know …”

  Zarina nodded. “We cannot pass up this opportunity. I’d have liked to wait until we could summon more of our people, but even the closest are too far away. You’re all we have, Mellish. I can’t join you, not with the Cabal’s activity in Caronath to keep an eye on.” Zarina’s voice sounded almost anguished. “We have to make sure the artifact is in our possession. And if we can give the Cabal and the Churches a black eye while we go about it, all the better.”

  Although Kurio had no idea what they were talking about, it didn’t take a savant to guess they wanted to gather royals and power for themselves. After all, that was what everyone wanted, wasn’t it? Kurio did, except now she also wanted to be free of this abominable sorcerous band around her neck, and for Zarina and Mellish to die bloody deaths. People like them, who would do anything to achieve their goals, were as bad as the evil they claimed to oppose.

  “I’ll prepare my gear, then,” Mellish said. “Our purpose is true. Anything is justified.”

  “Some betrayals are … hard,” Zarina whispered.

  Kurio couldn’t keep the sneer from her face. She ducked her head, hoping they hadn’t seen her expression. They justified betrayal and murder and torture.

  “The thief has to come,” Mellish said.

  Kurio jerked her head up. “What? No.”

  Zarina laughed in the way of someone who thinks a child has said something foolish. “Why do you think Gannon was interested in you? Why do you think we’ve kept you alive rather than slitting your throat and dumping you into a canal?”

  Kurio considered replying it was because they were good people, but she knew this wasn’t true. “I … I have skills?”

  A snort from Zarina. “Do you think it was chance you were employed to steal the cube? You’ve been a puppet all along. That artifact was created by the demons and their depraved followers long ago. It was kept secure so no human could touch it. Only a demon can handle it safely, or someone with demon blood.”

  “But … I touched it. So did Willas.”

  “Yes. And Willas is dead. His skin blackened and erupted with pustules. In the end, he begged for death. It was a relief.”

  Bloody hells. Kurio frantically examined the backs of her hands, her arms. Her heart pounded in her chest. “Am I dying? Is there a cure?”

  “You’re not going to die, silly woman. Haven’t you figured it out by now? You have demon blood in you. That’s why you were manipulated into stealing the cube. That’s why Gannon is interested in you. That’s why we have to control you. That’s why you’re going with Mellish.”

  No, it isn’t possible.

  She recalled her glimpse of wrinkled yellow-skinned limbs, blood-covered hands, fangs, finger-length horns protruding from heads and backs. That wasn’t her. She wasn’t a demon.

  “That’s … My family aren’t demons. Not my mother, nor my father. And neither am I.”

  Zarina’s voice grew even harsher. “When Nysrog was in this world, he brought other demons through the veil. Vile creatures that cared nothing for the sanctity of human life. They gorged themselves on the flesh of men, women, and children. They raped and defiled, performed unspeakable acts. They sowed their black seed and took mankind’s into themselves. Demons gave birth, as did a very few human women, and brought forth atrocities. Our organization has hunted their descendants, those of contaminated blood, for centuries. We aim to cast the demon spawn from this world.” She paused, then added, “Your mother gave in to her base desires. She fucked someone with demon blood, someone other than your father. Its seed spilled into her, and she gave birth to an abomination. You.”

  “No …”

  “Did your brothers and sisters treat you differently? Did your uncles and aunts scorn you?”

  They beat me. They abused me. Hated me.

  “It’s not true!” Kurio screamed. But it could be. It explained so much. Her eyes grew hot, and tears flowed. She couldn’t stop them.

  “They didn’t know about the demon blood,” said Mellish. “Much lore has been lost over the millennia.”

  “Shut up!” screamed Kurio. She clutched her stomach and curled into a ball on the cold floor.

  “Your eyes are a giveaway,” Zarina said. “Demon blood manifests in many different ways, but a common one is different-colored eyes. You tried to conceal it because you were hiding from your family. Another thief found out, and he had a loose tongue. So you killed him.”

  Kurio sucked in deep breaths between sobs. Her nose ran with snot. The hard floor pressed into her side. Bastard. Tainted. Killer. Abomination. Demon. She couldn’t quiet her churning thoughts.

  Something prodded her back. A boot. She felt Zarina’s menacing presence looming over her.

  “We need you for a small task, one you’re uniquely suited to. There aren’t many abominations left these days. Unfortunately for you, you won’t survive it.”

/>   We’ll see about that, Kurio thought. She would see Zarina and Mellish dead, and their plans for her could go to the hells. She would survive, and in the end, they would be the ones who died. A vision came to her: Zarina’s blond hair tangled in her fingers, her throat slit, blood on Kurio’s knife. Mellish lying next to the woman in a pool of crimson. It brought a brief smile to her lips, and her sobs lessened in intensity.

  Other thoughts pushed themselves to the front of her mind. What effect had her nature had on the choices she’d made through her life? And what about her attraction to Gannon? Was that the demon blood inside her talking?

  Chapter Twenty

  Leaving

  ALDRIC RETURNED TO LOCUST Street and set about readying the horses he had acquired. They weren’t particularly good quality, but wouldn’t let them down. Luckily the storm he’d seen approaching had been short and sharp, leaving the streets and air a little cleaner.

  He’d just about saddled all the horses when Razmus appeared, shortly followed by Priska, their breath steaming in the cold air. Before long the rest of the group arrived, mostly bleary-eyed and sleep-addled. By contrast, Niklaus was bright and enthusiastic, bustling around and checking the cinches Aldric had tightened.

  Stray Dog came out bearing a tray of steaming mugs and handed them around. Aldric took a sip of the cream-colored liquid. It was hot, with a bitterness masked by honey. It reminded him of a morning drink popular in the south, but this one was rougher. After a few swallows he felt more energetic.

  Neb eyed his mug suspiciously, while Priska’s hands wrapped around hers for the warmth. The priestess Niklaus had allowed to join them stood to one side, her face lost within her hood.

  “Niklaus,” Aldric said, “you’ll have to lead us to Bryn.”

  He hoped the side trip wouldn’t take up too much time. It wasn’t long until full-dark, and they needed to make good speed to reach the settlement. An hour saved on the road was another hour they could spend preparing the settlers for the next Dead-eye incursion.

 

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