“We never had this problem before.”
“Because we didn’t need more space before. What’s your plan?”
Luke rolls onto his side and lets his companion sprawl, her body impossible to budge now that it is comfortable. “This kind of goes against what I said long ago, but the situation has changed. I can change into the griffin and fly really high over the Yagervan Plains to find Delvin. Lucy’s eyesight is a lot better than mine and a wild griffin won’t earn too much suspicion. The rest of you can find a way to follow Stephen and we’ll meet near wherever he’s hiding to attack as a group. We won’t be at full strength and I have no idea how to make Queen Ionia believe I’m still here. Maybe this plan isn’t very good now that I say it out loud. My point is that all of us need to converge on Stephen at the same time.”
“I can handle everyone thinking you’re still here if I only have the one illusion to work with,” Sari explains, pausing at the sound of nearby shouting. She does her best to coat the two of them with an invisibility spell that settles an instant before the Caster Queen swiftly passes overhead. “The rest of us will find a way to meet with up with you. They were discussing a plan while we snuck out, so maybe they have something. Timoran is nearly healed and Dariana will recover quickly. I wouldn’t be surprised if Fizzle is fine in a day or two. I’m the only one in trouble, but we were told that Stephen went north. If he goes in the right direction then I might have an entire ocean or giant icebergs to wield.”
“There’s a high chance of Delvin and I getting there first,” the warrior points out while slipping off the clovers. Luke sits on the edge and holds out his arm for a dove to land on, the bird walking up to his shoulder. “He’ll use the shield to get to Nyx and we don’t know how fast that thing will move. All of you will have to leave as soon as possible. This plan seems to hinge on a lot of luck and perfect timing without us staying in contact with each other. Can you think of anything else?”
“No, but you’re forgetting that Dariana can send messages to you.”
“Then I guess I should get going.”
“Wait a second.”
Sari awkwardly hops off the soft cushion and limps over to the warrior. She puts her arms around his neck and pulls herself up to give him a small kiss on the cheek. Unsure of what to do, the two champions stare at each other and wait to see who makes the first move. With a smirk, Sari gives him a peck on the other cheek and steps away.
“I didn’t want the other one to get jealous,” she teases, leaning against a palm. She rubs her neck, noticing her pulse is racing. “I think we just made some progress. My heart is going wild, but two innocent kisses and I moved away. Now turn into Lucy and take to the sky before our host finds us. I’ll have the invisibility cloak travel with you as far as the city border, but you need to move fast.”
“Thanks. Good luck and we’ll all be together again in no time.”
Brown feathers sprout from Luke’s neck and warm fur covers his body as he transforms into the griffin. Only his chocolate brown eyes with golden rings remain by the time the half-elf finishes turning into the elegant beast. The female creature stretches her wings and cringes as her tight stomach muscles struggle to relax. Sitting on her haunches, she pecks at the stitches that are stuck in her repaired flesh. It takes a minute for her to remove the uncomfortable cord, which she swallows to avoid leaving evidence of her departure. After a gentle nudge to Sari, the beast launches into the air and disappears among the clouds.
Knowing that she is exposed, Sari chants a powerful illusion spell that creates a fake Luke on the bed. He is barely dressed with the missing clothes strewn about the courtyard. The gypsy experimentally has her creation touch his nose and stretch his legs, the figure showing a slight delay to her mental commands. Taking a shuddering breath, she rips the front of her shirt and hikes her skirts up to her waist before crawling onto the clovers. Sari pretends to be asleep next to the fake warrior and uses her powers to cover herself in sweat. Thinking about her injury, she slips her good leg under the illusion’s body. Realizing that the fake has no weight, she mutters another spell to make the decoy more solid in case somebody tries to touch it. She hears the nearby yells of Queen Ionia and the guards as she closes her eyes and focuses on maintaining the illusion. Her hope is that it appears as if she snuck off with Luke for a wild moment of passion in the hedge maze.
“I’m really going to hate this part of the plan,” Sari whispers, her heart racing at the touch of the illusion. The gypsy falls asleep as she hears the rustling leaves of the opening doorway and booted feet heading for the clovers.
*****
“We have a problem, boss!” Weber shouts as he runs through the tall grass. He trips over a tree stump, which is a moldy reminder of the time a line of oaks stood between the plains and Pynofita Forest. “It’s too dangerous on the plains and in the conifer forest. We need to go back to Serab and travel somewhere else.”
Stephen gives his servant a cold stare before turning his back on the man and facing the channelers standing in front of him. “I suddenly have a new respect for your people, Queen Trinity. They may be expendable pawns that are worth less than the filth found in an ogre’s nose, but it is rare that they panic like this. You better have a good reason for forgetting that you have a spine, worm. If not then I’ll remove it and make sure you never get confused again.”
“I . . . Well . . . new world vampires,” Weber stutters, sweat pouring down his face from fear and sprinting in the midday heat. The robed man relaxes when his master breaks out in laughter and has to grab the two women by their shoulders to stay standing. “I take it they are not going to be a problem for you. Vampires are nothing to laugh at, but if you are doing so then I feel much safer being in their territory.”
“Don’t be because I’d feed you to a Dawn Fang solely for entertainment,” the chuckling immortal admits with a sneer. He wipes a tear off his cheek and gently smears it on Nyx’s lips, his hand knocked away by a burst of energy. “Damn whatever that barrier is! I don’t know how you’re doing that with me controlling your aura. Enjoy the protection while it lasts because I’ll tear it down and have my way with you eventually.”
Feeling a wave of anger and hate rise into her chest, Nyx punches Stephen in the face and curses when her fingers shatter. Her captor grins until a delayed impact hits his chin and sends him rolling into the tall grass. The nobleman reappears in front of the half-elf and is about to strike her when he sees the confusion on her face. Stephen smacks her hand to repair the damage and turns to Trinity, who is casually enjoying her first time seeing the Yagervan Plains. She rocks on her bare heels and whistles, turning only to give her longtime tormentor a playful kiss on the nose. He stares at her curiously until a fireball goes off in his brain and comes close to melting the organ faster than he can revive it.
“How are you doing this, Trinity?” Stephen asks while wiping pink and gray ooze from his nose. “I control your auras, so I should sense that your spells are coming. Tell me of your own free will or I will torture it out of you.”
“Don’t blame me for this,” the chaos elf states while fixing her ebony hair. She grins at the ecstatic feeling that courses through her veins, the sensation making her feel giddy. “Maybe you’ve been connected to us for too long and you don’t perceive our attacks as a threat. You energy has an instant of confusion before the spell, which explains the pause. Then our magic strikes after you let your guard down. Still doesn’t explain what happened with me because I was only trying to confuse you with a public display of affection. I know how much you despise those. Not that I feel anything, but spitting in your eye is something you’d enjoy.”
“I was only going to punch him with my bare fist,” Nyx states before trying to kick her enemy in the back.
Stephen appears next to the channeler and drives her into the ground with an elbow to the spine, the shock of her barrier knocking him back a few steps. “I need privacy and I have a feeling I won’t find it here. Now tell me why I
should be concerned with the Dawn Fangs since they’re everywhere these days. Nothing special about their presence and they rarely cause any trouble. Their rulers make sure of that. Do you know that every mortal has interacted with at least one Dawn Fang in their lifetime? You wouldn’t know it because they are so good at hiding their presence and blending into mortal society. It’s truly surprising and pathetic that such creatures never made an attempt to rule Windemere. They would have beaten my father to the throne a long time ago.” The immortal pauses and nudges the unconscious channeler with his foot, a blast taking off part of his leg that immediately returns. “Take the champion to the tent and make sure she doesn’t die, Trinity. It appears you will be my entertainment again when we stop to make camp for the night.”
“Lucky me,” the cobalt-skinned woman drones in disgust. She puts Nyx over her shoulder and turns so that her groaning rival’s feet hit Stephen in the face. “Guess the barrier doesn’t work if she’s used as a blunt object. Means I can’t try to bludgeon you to death with her. Tiny thing wouldn’t last more than a few solid whacks to your dense skull anyway.”
Not in the mood for the chaos elf’s insults, Stephen waves his hand to teleport the channelers into the tent and seals the flaps. He takes a sniff of the wind and sticks out his tongue to get a sense of the area’s corruption. With his eyes turning black in ecstasy, the immortal is thrown into a blissful trance by the death seeping from every direction. No matter where the breeze comes from, he finds the taste of anguish, suffering, and spilt blood. It reminds him of his younger days on the battlefield and the times he reveled in his newfound powers, the massacres being some of his fondest memories. He strains his time magic to place some of the blood from those ancient battles on his lips and licks the sweet liquid off.
“Didn’t I tell you to talk,” Stephen says as he comes out of his trance. “What are the Dawn Fangs up to that has you wetting yourself?”
“I’ve only caught bits of information at a nearby bazaar,” Weber replies, pointing his staff at the distant tents. The rumble of thunder makes the mercenary jump, his attention finally turning to the storm to the northwest. “One of the tribes has been taken over by Dawn Fangs calling themselves Children of Clyde. They are attacking the other tribes and changing many to create an army. My experience tells me that the aggressive tribe is planning to wage a war and they might even attack Serab. This is why I think we should leave. It would be a waste of your time and energy to get swept up into such minor events.”
“Children of Clyde, huh?” Stephen whispers, scratching at the scar across his throat. A few cuts and bruises appear on his face, one of his ears vanishing before the injuries abruptly heal. “I doubt he’s back, but you’re right that it isn’t worth my time and energy to look into this. Still, I find myself curious. How big a disruption would you say this is? Do you believe it would ruin any treaties that the Dawn Fangs have with the mortal kingdoms?”
“Of course, boss. Though I’ve never heard of such things.”
The immortal warrior glances at his shadow before wiping it away and breathing a sigh of relief. “I don’t suppose a lowly mercenary would. Very few know that the Dawn Fangs have a central government that operates out of Canst’s Fields. It’s only to keep their numbers under control and settle all problems internally. At least until their progenitor returns or so their stories go. It might be best that we travel to the Crysvale Tundra. The tribes don’t travel that far and it will hold the privacy I want.”
“I thought you weren’t afraid of the Dawn Fangs,” Weber mentions before he can stop himself. He yelps as he is lifted off the ground by his upper jaw, his master’s grip preventing him from apologizing or asking any questions.
“I’m not afraid of those cowardly bloodsuckers,” Stephen growls, tossing the mercenary over his shoulder. He hears the man’s neck snap and begrudgingly heals him, deciding that he still needs a servant or sacrificial fool. “Most of them want nothing more than to exist and thrive in peace. Those that cause trouble are closer to spoiled children who are reaching beyond their limits. Unfortunately, those brats tend to bring in an old . . . I have no idea what to call her since our time together was brief.”
“An old flame or conquest?”
With a look of dread and fear, the immortal hurries over to Weber and covers the man’s mouth. “Not in any way and never make that assumption. I refuse to go into the details because they are not worth mentioning. All I will say is that she is a creature I do not wish to reunite with. Even worse if the progenitor is with her, but I haven’t heard from him in quite a few centuries. Best not to test our luck since a brewing war is just the type of thing to bring the real monsters out of the shadows. That reminds me.”
Stephen reaches down to yank Weber’s shadow off the ground and prepares to swallow it whole. He pauses with the darkness barely touching his lips before pulling on his servant’s beard and jamming the black orb into the man’s mouth. The shadow tastes of dirt and filth, which makes the mercenary gag as he obediently swallows the ephemeral snack. Weber takes a deep breath and stares at the ground, his lack of a shadow making him feel uncomfortable.
“Best not to give the Dark Mistress an opening,” Stephen says with a smirk. He hurries to the tent and lifts it off the ground, the women inside cursing as he jostles them. “Let’s move until nighttime. Please let me know if you feel anything strange. Not nausea or indigestion, but as if a cold-hearted woman has appeared in your gut and is tearing her way through your innards with razor sharp claws. Now hurry up!”
11
Delvin and his companions hide on the crest of the hill even though they are unsure if it will do them any good. At the edge Pynofita Forest, a large encampment has been made with several tents surrounding a wooden tower. Fresh stumps can be seen going into the distance, the sappy conifers downed to make the central structure. The building is no more than seven stories, but it seems much larger due to the tiny shelters of the other tribe members. Two fenced off areas flank the makeshift town with one holding a herd of dammahs for the mortals and the other containing prisoners for the vampires. Unlike the active animals, the humans and calicos remain motionless and quietly wait to be chosen as a meal. The strangest sights are the lines of people heading for the encampment as if coming to the end of a long pilgrimage. Each newcomer exchanges bows with the guards and disappears among the maze of tents, only a few of them being stopped and searched. Only once do the hiding warriors see a soldier turn someone away, the rejected man weeping and collapsing just outside of the encampment. Crouching in the tall grass, the mercenaries wonder if it is only a matter of time before a group marches over them and drives them into the Osprey Tribe’s domain.
“Can you tell us anything about the people going in?” Delvin asks before turning around to see that the girl is nowhere to be seen. He is about to stand and look for her when Gerdo and Pelo grip his shoulders. “Damn it. I was hoping she would stay until we decided on a plan, but I guess her courage gave out. So I’m thinking of going in there to find my parents and get an idea of the situation. We’ll start by blending in and raise our visibility depending on the danger. What do you guys think?”
“That you’re an idiot,” Tavris states as he crawls forward to get a better look. He squints to see through the sun haze, the summer heat feeling heavy on his body. “Too bad you’re the idiot we follow. I picked up some cloaks that will help us blend in a little. At the very least, we won’t be walking around with shining armor. I’m guessing the people are prisoners or newly made Dawn Fangs.”
“None of them appear to be vampires, so your first guess is probably right,” Gerdo says, risking a quick check behind them. He ducks back out of sight when he sees a group of travelers walking nearly two hundred yards away. “I can tell by the way people move, so the Dawn Fangs are either hiding in the encampment or out on the plains. Most of these travelers have been entranced and sent here for whatever their new masters have planned. The others are here of their own free will, so
they might just be terrified and wanting to join the winning side. We can slip in there like you want, boss, but caution will be necessary. If we’re lucky then they’re looking for warriors and we can get inside without question.”
Pelo nudges Scorpion and points at his face until the chaos elf gives him a mask. “Put this on, boss. I know you were eight when you disappeared, but we don’t want to risk anyone even considering that you’re familiar. Do you think your parents will know who you are if you come across them?”
“I have my mother’s eyes, so I won’t need the whole thing,” Delvin replies, taking the mask and tearing a strip that he can use as a blindfold. A small cough brings his attention to his black-clothed friend who he is sure is glaring at him. “Sorry about that, Scorpion, but you have to agree that two men in masks would be suspicious. I’m going to use my sword as a walking stick and pretend to be blind. I can still see through the fabric, but I’ll act like you guys are helping me find my way. In fact, I want Pelo to be the one to guide me. Just walk alongside and whisper obstacles in my ear or move me through crowds. We did this once before in Rodillen, so it’ll all come back to you.”
“I remember, but it was a bandit camp outside of Darkmill, boss.”
“Oh yeah. Don’t announce that I’m blind this time.”
“I wouldn’t have had to if that orc wasn’t deaf.”
Scorpion chuckles and puts out his fist, lifting his mask to reveal the smile on his face. “This is more dangerous than anything we have ever faced. If it is to be my final battle, I’m happy that it is with the friends who know me for what I really am. Thank you for everything, Frozen Blades.”
“A little morbid and fate-tempting, but I’m in,” Pelo states, putting his fist against his friend’s knuckles. He grabs Delvin’s hand to make him join in the salute and grins at the warrior’s scowl. “You’re blind, boss. How else would you know what to do?”
The Mercenary Prince (Legends of Windemere Book 9) Page 24