Riftkeepers: Pursuit

by Carrie Whitethorne

  “I'm sorry,” she murmured against her cold, pale skin.

  Zander, I have to get to Zander.

  There was no time, she rose, turned and stormed into the adjoining tunnel.

  Callan fell into step behind her, lighting the way with an orb of fire, keeping his distance.

  Looking over her shoulder, she gave him a small smile. His pointed teeth glinted as he smiled back.

  Too late, Charlotte noticed a shifting in the shadows to her left. Before she could react, a long, sharp talon slid between her tunic and her neck. White, hot pain seared shoulder as she felt the sharp point pierce her skin, connecting with bone. The demon was surprisingly heavy, she noticed, considering it was constructed of nothing but shadow and dust. Stifling a cry, she felt every minute sensation as the bone splintered and shattered as the deformed limb slid down, tearing through muscle. She sagged beneath the thing, her muscles screaming with the effort of keeping her upright.

  Don't let him hear. Don't give him the satisfaction. You've lived through worse.

  With all her strength, she turned, bringing her dagger up into its chest space and it burst over her, the black powder that had given it substance covering her face.

  Sinking to the floor, she grasped at the wound along her collar bone, writhing.

  Callan was with her instantly, tearing the tunic open to examine her.

  “Shit, Charlotte, heal it,” he said through clenched teeth.

  She hissed, tears streaming down her cheeks, “I can't.”

  “You can. Quickly. Zander.”

  It took all the strength she had not to submit to the pain, to concentrate on closing the wound, on knitting the muscle and flesh. She left the bone broken, the bleeding had stopped and that was enough to get Zander home.

  Alayna can fix it later. I must get up, get to Zander. Keep going.

  “Help,” she whimpered through gritted teeth.

  Callan picked her up, setting her gently on her feet. “Can you walk? There's a small room down here, they're in there and they'll know we're coming.”

  Whatever happens, I need him out of here alive. No more of my family die today.

  Callan kept an arm around her waist as she tested her shoulder for movement.

  The pain was easing slightly but it was still agony, “I'll manage.”

  “Mummy?”

  Her head snapped up at the sound of his voice. Pain forgotten, she shrugged Callan's arm away and walked forward, fastening the tunic as far as she could. He fell into step at her side, scanning for more Daeva.

  Shh, it's okay. I'm coming. Try to get more wards down.

  “Can you handle her?” Callan murmured.

  “Yeah,” she said, gathering speed as the entrance to the small room came into view. “Watch the door. I can't handle one of those things.”

  I can handle her. I'm going to kill her.

  As she drew level with the doorway, she took a deep breath and gripped her dagger.

  An orb of Callan's fire followed her. Her eyes flicked around the room. Water trickled down the calcified walls, making the small chamber icy cold and damp. It was so cold she could see her breath, pluming with each heavy breath.

  Zander, huddled on a dirty mattress pulled away from the wall at the back of the room gasped when he saw her. Still wearing his school uniform, he looked terrified but seemed unhurt. Meg stepped in front of him, head cocked to one side, grinning. Zander flinched back.

  “Hello Charlotte.”

  Power thrummed in her veins. Her pulse quickened, her heart beating a tattoo in her ears as she fought to contain her rage.

  I'm taking you home. Stay quiet. The wards, are they down?

  Zander nodded.

  Callan, he's got them.

  “Meg,” she said, coolly. “I've dealt with Robert, and his Daeva. I'm taking my son home now.” She tipped her head to the right, an instruction to move away.

  “No. He doesn't leave here alive. Taran took my children. I'll have one of his before I'm defeated,” she spat.

  “Robert took your children. I saw what he did. I buried them myself,” Charlotte said, her voice grave.

  A look of pain and grief passed over the witch's face.

  Charlotte recognised that pain. A mother's grief, and softened. “You don't want to harm him. If you had, you wouldn't have waited. Let him go. Please.” She held out a hand and took a step forwards. Meg took two steps back, reaching for Zander.

  Grab her. Move her away.

  “No!” Too late, Charlotte yelled at Meg to stop.

  With a shrill cry, Meg swung her dagger at Zander's head. As she made contact, Zander screamed, curling into a sobbing ball on the mattress. Blood poured from the cut on his scalp, covering his fingers.

  Losing all control, Charlotte had her shadow grip the woman's free arm and slammed her into the soaked wall behind Zander. The dagger clattered to the ground.

  Flicking her eyes briefly to Zander, she noted that he was conscious and the blood loss was minimal.

  You're okay, baby. Aunty Alayna will fix you. Please, stay down.

  With her teeth clenched, Charlotte boiled with a new rage. Primal, instinctive, a mother protecting her child. With a brief lift of her chin, Meg rose from the ground, pinned to the wall. “Mistake,” she growled, violet flame engulfing her whole body.

  Megs eyes widened at the sight.

  She heard boots on the hard-stone floor outside and extinguished her flame as Lukas appeared beside Zander. She nodded to him as he scooped the boy up and disappeared.

  “The mistake was keeping him alive,” Meg spat.

  “You hate filled bitch! You're as sick and twisted as he is. You were well matched,” Charlotte hissed.

  Meg's face twisted in revulsion.

  “No?” Charlotte tightened her shadowy grip on her wrists and swung Meg into the center of the room. Suspended, Meg kicked her legs, desperately trying to free herself. “Wasn't it what you expected, Meg?”

  Lower.

  Her feet touching the floor, Meg shrieked as Charlotte stalked forwards, her dagger angled.

  “Please, I can help you…” Meg pleaded, a puddle forming at her feet.

  She wants to be burned alive. She's twisted!

  “What could you possibly do for me that I can't do for myself?” Her eyes burned into Megs as she tore into her captive's mind.

  Images rushed her. A boat, climbing the mountain, zander laid sobbing into the mattress on the floor, Carlie pinned down by Daeva, the glint of a knife as it opened her wrist, the life draining from her, the summoning of more demons. Image after image threatening to overwhelm her.

  Jesus.

  “No, please!” Meg shrieked, blood dripping from her nose.

  Don't kill her. Not like this. You're better than this.

  Charlotte withdrew her power and leaned in to her, “No fun being a defenseless mortal, is it, Meg? I see he's treated you wonderfully.”

  “Please…”

  “Lift your head and look at me. Coward!” Charlotte screamed in her face.

  A figure entered the room and a calm came over her. She grinned as Meg forced her head up and looked her in the eye. Leaning in close, she said in a low, soft voice, “You deserve far worse than I've given you.”

  The blade cut cleanly through the pale skin of her neck, blood spraying Charlottes face as it burst from the severed artery. Hot and sticky, it coated her face as she watched the light leave her wide, pleading eyes. She didn't flinch as the viscous liquid coated her neck and chest. Shoulders squared, she maintained a calm, steady gaze as it spilled down Meg's front, adding to the pool at her feet. Callan wiped his blade on her arm and turned away.

  The body landed with a thud, as Charlotte released her hold, head cracking open on the uneven floor.

  Stepping over the lifeless body, she wiped the blood from her face with her forearm and said, “His turn.”

  Callan's eyes shone in the orange glow of his orb as he grinned at her. She pursed her lips, smiled, and
set off to deal with her father.

  Dagda and Carlie were gone. The only evidence of her fate, of her presence there a sticky pool of blood. Dane, Klara and Konrad watched over the warlock, pinned down by Dane's shadow. Konrad turned as they approached, flipping a small knife in his hand and glared at Charlotte's blood smeared face.

  “Is he being good?” she asked, noting the blood still dripping from his jaw. She fingered the point of her blade as she looked at him.

  Dane looked her way, raised his brows and smirked, “Very, however, his language leaves a lot to be desired.”

  “Shame Enya isn't here to wash is mouth out,” she muttered.

  Callan laughed and leaned on the wall beside him, “Well, Dad, what shall we do with you?”

  “Fuck you,” Robert rasped.

  Play the part.

  “That's enough of that,” she said in a honeyed voice. “Take him to his witch please, Dane.”

  Dane gave him a wicked grin and set off down the tunnel. He whistled once, as if calling a dog, and Robert was hauled over the rough floor after him.

  “Are you okay?” Klara murmured as they followed.

  “Let's get this done. I want to go home,” she replied, stiffly.

  Klara didn't respond, scanning for more Daeva as they approached the small room.

  “Where's Anton?” she quickly asked Konrad.

  “With Lukas, they have Zander outside.”

  “Can you go to them? We can handle him. Zander was hurt. She cut him.”

  He instantly bowed, shifted into his falcon form and flew from view.

  Callan took her hand and squeezed gently. She squeezed back and let go.

  Hold it together, Charlotte. Not much longer now. Keep the act up, you can fall apart later. End this first. It's your mess.

  Stepping into the small room, Callan and Dane on either side of her, she smiled. Klara watched the door, still wary of lurking Daeva. Robert stood unbound at the back of the room, Meg's body at his feet, clearly moved by Dane to give them room.

  The more she looked at him, the more she hated him, fueling the power that leapt in her veins, pressing to be freed.

  I might even enjoy killing him.

  “Well, this is nice. How would you like to die?” she asked in a silvery voice.

  Dane gave her an approving look, a smirk spreading across his face.

  “You can't kill me,” he growled.

  “Tsk, defiant to the end.” She stepped forward, sweeping her hand to the left. Meg's body slid away and she turned the hand to Robert, “I could crush you in here?”

  His eyes widened as she pressed her open palm to his forehead. “Wait for it…”

  Her shadow scraped over the barrier to his mind and he responded. Shadow-fire, more choking black smoke than shadow, more mauve than violet, heavy and dirty, hit her square in the chest, knocking her back. Throwing her arms up to cover her face, her shadow burst forth, forming a protective shield around her. The armor had taken the full force, cracking and turning brittle with the heat. Callan reacted first, a thrown dagger sinking into Robert's shoulder, embedding in the rock behind. He sagged against the soaked wall, groaning, the shadow-fire sputtering and dying out.

  Callan looked her over, satisfied that she was unhurt and snarled.

  “Is that it? Is that all you've got?” Charlotte mocked, raising her hand as she closed the space between them. “Try again.”

  He didn't answer, eyes rolling back as he moaned in pain. He lifted his free arm, making for the dagger.

  Coward. I'm standing here with a broken collar bone. Prick!

  “Ah, noo,” she sang in a condescending tone. “That stays there. What's wrong? Can't handle a little bit of pain?”

  Her hand reached his chest and she pressed down firmly. “That's nothing, try what I've lived through…”

  Icy rage was building, faster and faster, filling her up. She thought of her mum, her cousin, the women he'd left charred and naked in a field. She thought of what he'd done to her and to Zander and her power roiled.

  His eyes widened, head thrashing from side to side as he realised what she planned to do. Before he could protest, she sent a short burst of shadow-fire through his chest. Enough to sate the hunger her power had developed, its need to do harm, enough to tamp the rage within her. His body tensed, rigid against the wall, fighting to hold in the scream that built in his throat.

  Withdrawing, she smiled, her shadow gathering at her back, blocking his view of the room, fire dancing at her fingertips. She held them an inch from his face and whispered, “I'm not like you. You killed my mum, killed those girls, killed Carlie because you're twisted. You're evil. I'm neither. I'll leave you here to rot under this mountain. You can think about what you've done while you wait for death to claim you.”

  The shadows faded, her flames died and she calmly turned to Callan and asked, sweetly, “Can I have that dagger?”

  Removing it from its strap at his thigh, he silently handed it over, a wicked smile twitching his mouth. With a swift, backward thrust, she drove it through his other shoulder, into the rock behind. Glancing back, she confirmed he was secured to the wall and walked from the room.

  Klara left her watch of the door as they passed, her Sai spinning in her palms, joining Dane. A chilling shriek pierced her ears as she rounded the corner of the doorway. She wasn't interested in what was happening to him.

  I've done what I came here to do. I hope they carve him up.

  Chapter 31

  Clear of the room, Callan gripped her arm and brought her to the cave entrance and her legs buckled. The moon had lowered in the sky and the ledge was cloaked in darkness. Summoning a fire, he dropped to his knees, lowering her sagging frame. “Are you okay?”

  Free of the cave, away from him, away from danger, the adrenalin she'd been running on ran out and she began to tremble. “No. No, I'm not,” she whispered.

  “Any other injuries? he asked.

  She shook her head. “I could have killed him, Callan. I wanted to.”

  I came so close.

  Dane cleared his throat behind her. “Well, you're fucking scary. What happens how?”

  Callan huffed a laugh through his nose.

  Closing her eyes, she said, “Get Zander to the foot of this mountain and tell him to tear it down. Level it.”

  When no-one moved, she twisted and looked at him. “Please. I need this done. I want to go home.”

  “I'll go,” Callan said, “Dane.”

  Dane nodded and sat beside her on the ground. “That was scary, Lottie. I didn't know you had that in you. It was like a switch was flipped.”

  She hung her head, too ashamed to speak. Out here, away from all of that, it seemed barbaric.

  No better than him. You're a monster, too, Charlotte.

  Hey! Don't. He won't stop and you know that. This was your call, all of it. It's all been done your way. Clean, none of us got hurt. You were brilliant.

  Carlie…

  Carlie was caught and killed before you had any idea where they were. You couldn't have saved her.

  Meg.

  Slashed Zanders head open with a dagger. If Callan hadn't, I would have.

  I'm letting Zander do my dirty work.

  He's only burying him. Klara dealt with him. He'll have bled to death before Zander's done.

  Sighing, she stood up and brushed herself down. The now crisp leather of her tunic flaked and fell away under her hand, “Shit.”

  “Yeah, it's nasty. Not even a wyvern can survive that shit for long,” he said. “We should go down. Zander's waiting.”

  Zander. His head!

  At the mention of his name, the emotion she'd kept contained finally broke free.

  Dane held her as she silently sobbed, her body shaking with the force.

  What I did. How? How could I do that to someone?

  Stop, Lottie. It's done. I can help if it's too much.

  Help? The way you stopped the bad dreams after the cottage?

&nbs
p; Yeah. I can take it away, if you want me to.

  No. I can't keep running, Dane. This shit's real. Hiding from it nearly got me killed last time.

  Okay, just… just hold it together until we get you home. Zander needs his mum.

  “I need to get to him,” she whispered through her tears. “I let them take him after she did that to him. He needed me and I sent him away.”

  “You need a minute,” he said firmly. “He wasn't safe there and you, well you were busy.”

  Too busy killing people to go to him.

  “She'd have killed him. Or you. Callan wouldn't have been able to stop her from where he was. He showed me. Please, stop.” His voice was strained, raw.

  With a shaky breath, she stood up and composed herself. “Okay. Last bit, then I can go home.”

  Dane gently squeezed her hand and took her down.

  “Zander,” she breathed.

  He turned, his bloody, tear streaked face lit with a beaming smile. “Mummy, you saved me.”

  Cradling him, her shoulder screaming, she closed her eyes and buried her face in his neck. “I'm sorry, baby.”

  Callan stood silently beside them, waiting.

  “Alright, Zander,” Dane clapped his hands. “Fancy knocking down a mountain before we go home?”

  “Can I do that?” he asked, looking over Charlotte's shoulder.

  “It'll be easy. And fun,” Dane laughed.

  “Where's the bad man? What happened to Miss Brown?”

  “They're gone, mate. If you knock the mountain down, nobody will be able to hide in there again. Think you can?”

  He nodded and Charlotte lowered him to the floor.

  “Just like practice, but bigger,” Callan said at his side.

  They all walked to the cover of some trees, where the ground began to slope gently upward. Callan leading Zander by the hand, Charlotte and Dane behind.

  “Here's fine, when you're ready,” Callan said, encouraging.

  As Zander readied himself, Charlotte stepped a few paces further forward and looked up at the peak.