The Fire Salamander Chronicles Series: Books 1 - 3: The Fire Salamander Chronicles Series Boxset Book 1

by N M Thorn

  Gunz nodded, biting his lip and headed to the circle of fire that was still burning around the two dark mages. As soon as he approached them, the flames went up higher, burning brighter, fueled by his anguish and anger.

  He walked through the fire into the circle and halted. Both mages cowered away from him, their fear almost palpable. Gunz stared at Valeria Demidova and his whole body went up in flames. In complete silence, he raised his hand and his sword manifested in it. He was ready to strike her down when he saw Countess Demidova standing outside the circle. No one noticed when the old lady came to the place of battle.

  “Allow me,” she said quietly to Gunz, her dark eyes glowing with pain and anger.

  Gunz nodded and lowered his sword, extinguishing his fire. The Countess approached her daughter, staring down at her.

  “Mama…” whimpered Valeria, reaching for her mother, but the Countess stepped away from her, disgust reflected on her face.

  “I curse the day you were born,” said the old lady coldly, looking down at her daughter. “I brought you into this world and I plagued it with your presence. It’s only right that I should be the one to free the world from your darkness.”

  She channeled her magic and seized her daughter, sending her flying into the lake. Valeria screamed as the double bottom of the lake gave in and sucked her down. A few seconds later, Valeria Demidova was no more. The Countess stared at the lake, a look of relief on her face. Then she turned around and headed to Gwyn ap Nudd.

  “Now, I’m ready to go with you, my lord,” she said with a bow.

  Gwyn ap Nudd drew a rectangle of light in the air, turning it into a door and walked through it, taking Countess Demidova with him.

  Gunz turned to the second mage, his igneous eyes burning with wrath. She froze, terror flashed in her eyes. Before anyone could stop him, he swung his sword, instantly decapitating her. “Ignius,” he whispered, setting her remains on fire and then added in a low growl, “Thou shalt not suffer an evil bitch to live.”

  He approached the stone monolith and caressed its rough surface with his fingers. His eyes fell on Karma, who looked just as lifeless as he felt. He turned to Mrak Delar.

  “Mrak, can you do me a favor?” he asked evenly. Mrak Delar nodded. “Please take Karma anywhere in this world, or any other world… Take her anywhere she wants to go, my friend.”

  “I’ll do that,” promised Mrak Delar.

  Gunz turned to Kal, feeling dead inside and out.

  “You were right, Father,” he said, hardly moving his lips. “There is nothing left for me here.”

  He opened the fire-curtain of his portal and walked through it.

  Chapter 39

  ~ Zane Burns, a.k.a. Gunz ~

  Gunz walked out of his portal and crossed his back yard toward the door of his house. He pushed it, in the back of his mind realizing that the door was unlocked, but at the moment he wasn’t capable of wondering why. He stepped inside the house and looked around. It was empty. Completely empty. He got used to the solitude of his place and he used to love it, but right now this habitual silence felt deadly.

  Gunz headed to the living room. Not really thinking about what he was doing, he took a bottle of vodka and came back to the kitchen. He sat down at the table, his fingers mechanically twisting the cap off the bottle. He put the cap on the table, staring at the clear liquid inside. The sharp smell of the alcohol invaded his nostrils, and he took a huge gulp of the fire-filled liquid straight from the bottle. As the heat spread through his body, he folded his arms on the table and rested his forehead atop his folded arms.

  The last moment of the fight with Skiper-Zmey flashed in his mind—Angelique’s eyes, gazing at him with love, ordering him to let her die. And he did. He stepped away. He abandoned her. He let them kill her. No, it wasn’t them—he killed her. Gunz lifted his head and screamed, a terrible howl infused with more anguish than any one man could tolerate. His eyes flooded with flames and drops of liquid fire fell on the table.

  With shock, he touched his flaming tears and just then noticed a small white box sitting in the middle of the table. He pulled the box closer and everything inside him died, drowning in the next wave of pain as he recognized Angelique’s handwriting on the box.

  “To Gunz.”

  He stared at the box, his hands shaking. To Gunz? Angelique never used his nickname. It was always Zane or his true name—Vladislav. She always told him that his nickname was given to him by his closest friends, those few men who went through war, fighting by his side. She didn’t think that it was right for her to use this name. Gunz? He tried to open the box, but his fingers didn’t obey—numb, unbending. He put the box down and took another swig of vodka before giving it another try.

  Finally, he was able to open it. Inside, there was another box with a new wristwatch in it. It wasn’t a standard FBI watch. It was a Russian watch, a military edition—“Vostok Komandirskie”. He took the watch out of the box and checked it out closely. An outline of a wyvern was clearly visible on the dark-blue face of the watch. Mishka was there. Why? He noticed that the watch had an extra button on the side—undoubtedly a panic button, installed by Jim. And if Jim installed the panic button, of course, he installed a GPS tracker.

  “Mishka,” called Gunz, surprised to hear how lifeless and hollow his voice was.

  The wyvern materialized in front of him. “Finally, boss, you freed—,” he started to say but fell silent as Gunz slammed his fist on the table. The bottle swayed, and the cap rolled over the table, dropping on the floor with a hollow jingle.

  “I asked you to take care of her!” he yelled. “Why didn’t you? You had one job…” his voice trailed off. He shook his head and covered his face with his hands.

  “I’m sorry, boss,” said the wyvern, touching him with his wing, “she locked me in this watch as soon as I got there. I don’t know what kind of spell she used, but I couldn’t break free until you called me.”

  Gunz lowered his hands and glanced at his wyvern. His golden-red glow disappeared, and he looked grief-stricken.

  “Mishka, I’m sorry, I don’t blame you,” he managed to say. “Don’t take it personally, but I need you to leave. Just for a short while, my friend. I need to be alone…”

  “As you wish, boss,” mumbled Mishka and silently vanished.

  Slowly, Gunz flipped the watch over. There was an engraving on the back. “Take care of my perfect world.”

  “Nooo…” he moaned, grief shredding his insides.

  Gunz dropped the watch on the table and reached for the bottle, knocking the box off the table. He didn’t put the bottle down until it was empty. Then he got up and went to get another bottle. As he returned to the kitchen, he saw the box on the floor. He squatted to pick it up and noticed that under the watch packaging there was something else. He pulled the box out and stared at a yellow notepad page, folded neatly at the bottom of the white box.

  His body felt leaden as he lowered himself down on the floor and pulled the page out of the box, unfolding it. It was covered in Angelique’s even handwriting. The world spun around him and he couldn’t read a word, liquid fire dripping down on the page in his trembling hands. But the page wasn’t bursting in flames. She accounted for everything, making the paper fireproof.

  Gunz opened the new bottle of vodka and took a huge gulp. He wiped his face with his hands and picked up the page again. His vision cleared, more or less, and he could read now.

  Gunz,

  My strong, handsome boy. I love you. I loved you from the first moment I saw you, when you walked into Jim’s office accompanied by Mrak Delar. He practically dragged you in. You were so withdrawn and miserable. You hardly said one word to me. But I could see your beautiful soul hiding behind the wall you built around yourself. And from that moment, I knew that you were the only one for me.

  I am sorry it took me so long to tell you that, but there was always something between us—our lifestyles, magic, people and monsters, or your constant runs between two w
orlds. I’m glad I told you at the end and we had our time together, as short as it was. You’re my love, my life, my perfect world.

  I am sorry, I lied to you. I knew that the reason I couldn’t see the future was because I didn’t have one. I don’t even know why I mentioned it at all to you that night. I guess I was scared, and I wanted to hear you telling me that everything was going to be okay.

  Once I learned who your adversary was, I knew that without Perun, none of you had what it took to win this fight. Only a witch with psychic abilities like myself could control the Lord of Chaos by fusing her own essence with his and taking over his body. I just hope that I’m a powerful enough psychic-witch to pull it off and give you all a chance to lock Skiper-Zmey back into his grave and place the curse…

  My love, I beg you not to hate Uri for bringing me to Mount Karasova. Knowing you, you probably can’t even look at him right now. It wasn’t his fault. I never told him why I needed to be there. I manipulated him a little, making sure that he would bring me and Tessa to the place of the final battle. And he was too preoccupied with everything that was going on in the city to look past my words.

  Tessa is a daughter of Perun. After our first reading, it took me a long time and a lot of research to get to this conclusion. And today, when she showed up with Uri at my doorstep, begging him to take her to Aidan, my theory got confirmed. Please tell her that she needs to find her father. It’s important for her and for this world. But before she can take on such a difficult task, she must learn more, practice her magic and power. In other words, she must remain with the Guardians for as long as possible. And tell her that she can’t do it alone. To find Perun and bring him back, she’ll need you and Aidan at her side.

  I know what you think, Gunz. You think I’m alive… somewhere. Don’t. I’m dead. There is no me anymore. Do not spend your eternity looking for a way to bring me back. It’s impossible. Let me repeat it again so it sticks in your stubborn head.

  I AM DEAD.

  Don’t beg Angel to bring me back either. He can’t.

  I AM GONE.

  Forever. And I want you to move on. I want you to be happy. So, please, don’t look for me or for a way to separate my essence from Zmey’s. You can’t. No one can. I know that you love me, and you would move mountains for me. But Mount Karasova is one mountain you should never attempt to move.

  I love you, Gunz, my strong, beautiful boy. I always have, and I always will. Even death can’t change that. You gave me something, no one else could—that perfect world within the circle of your arms.

  With love,

  Angelique.

  Gunz put the page on the floor next to him. He stared into space, unable to hear, see or feel anything but the pain that was ripping him from the inside. He picked the bottle up and kept drinking until the world around him started to spin and he felt too drunk and too numb to move.

  Through the fog in his mind, he registered a fire portal opening in his kitchen. Kal and Mrak Delar walked through the portal and halted before him. Kal squatted down in front of him and put his hand on his shoulder, giving him a light shake.

  “Gunz,” called Kal, frowning.

  “Father,” mumbled Gunz and laughed drunkenly. “You controlled me… You swore not to…” He laughed again and took another gulp of vodka. “The only time when it truly mattered that you didn’t… You made me kill her…”

  Kal got up and threw a bewildered look at Mrak Delar. “He’s drunk,” explained Mrak Delar with a sigh.

  “I can clear his mind,” said Kal making a move toward Gunz, but Mrak Delar seized his elbow stopping him.

  “Don’t,” he said shaking his head. “He’s grieving. It’s his way of dealing with his pain, Kal. Let him be.”

  Gunz listened to their conversation, for some reason finding it ridiculously funny. He laughed again, but the tears of liquid fire filled his eyes, running down his face.

  “Look at his tears, Mrak. He’s losing his humanity,” whispered Kal, but Gunz registered his every word. “If we don’t help him, he’ll become more fire than man.”

  “Mrak,” said Gunz raising his hand up, but had no strength to hold it and his hand fell on the floor with a dull thud. “Mrak, nothing helps… can you take away this… gut-wrenching feeling…” He laughed bitterly. “Yeah… you called it pain... but it’s so much worse… Can you make me… forget. Just for a few minutes. I’m begging you.”

  “Oh, boy,” said Mrak Delar. He bent down and lifted Gunz off the floor. Gunz didn’t object, feeling too weak and numb for any kind of protests. He couldn’t even hold his head up. Holding him in his arms, Mrak Delar took him upstairs and lowered him down on his bed.

  “What are you going to do, Mrak?” asked Kal.

  “There isn’t much I can do,” replied Mrak Delar with a sigh and turned to Gunz. “I can’t make you forget. And trust me, you want to remember. But I can give you a few hours of peace. When you wake up, you’ll remember everything, and grief still will be tearing your soul apart. There are no shortcuts around it, not even magical ones.”

  “I don’t care… Make it stop, even if it’s only for a few hours.” Gunz moaned, covering his face with his hands.

  Mrak Delar glanced at Kal and the Great Salamander nodded. The Master of Power touched Gunz’s forehead with two fingers, whispering a spell, putting him in a deep enchanted sleep.

  “Thank you…” whispered Gunz and closed his eyes, falling into peaceful oblivion.

  It was the middle of the day when Gunz woke up and sunlight was flooding his room. Just like Mrak Delar said, he remembered everything. He sat up on the bed, lowering his feet to the floor and rubbed his face, feeling the roughness of the stubble on his cheeks.

  “Good afternoon.”

  Gunz turned around and just now noticed Aidan sitting in the armchair by the closet. He was still dressed in the same torn shirt and dirty pants he had on last night. His face was covered in dust and he looked drained.

  “How long have you been sitting here?” asked Gunz.

  “Since last night, when Mrak Delar showed up at my penthouse and dropped me off here,” replied Aidan with a shrug, crossing his legs at his knees. “Coffee?”

  “Yeah, fine,” said Gunz, ready to go down to the kitchen. Aidan waved his hand, conjuring two cups of Starbucks coffee, and offered one to Gunz. “Must be nice to be a god.” Gunz chuckled humorlessly, taking a sip of the hot coffee.

  “Not always,” replied Aidan, serious. “Care to know what happened after you left yesterday.”

  “Not really,” replied Gunz, and he meant it. “But I know, you’re going to tell me anyway. So, go on.”

  “After you left, Semargl summoned Stribog and his sons,” said Aidan quietly, carefully tasting his coffee. “You probably know of him. He’s another elemental Slavic deity. The god of Air and Wind. Anyway, he came with his sons and they recreated Mount Karasova. Just like the first time, Stribog’s sons brought the sands from the four ends of the Yav and they created the mountain over the grave of the Skiper-Zmey. And then Veles placed his enchantment, cursing the Lord of Chaos for eternity. It’s all over now.”

  “I figured,” whispered Gunz, squeezing the hot cup in his hand. They put a mountain over Angelique… and placed a curse. He bit his lip, feeling empty inside.

  “I’m sorry, Gunz,” said Aidan quietly.

  Gunz nodded. “You don’t need to be on a suicide watch, Aidan,” he said dryly, turning away from his friend. “I don’t even know how to conjure the Black Fire. Even if I wanted.”

  “I am not worried about that,” replied Aidan, pulling his phone out. “I am here for a few reasons. First of all, do you mind if I make sure that my friend is okay, and he is not alone when he is in pain?”

  Gunz nodded. “Thank you, but I’m fine. As fine as I can be in this situation, I guess.”

  Aidan’s phone rang. He looked at the screen and smiled. “And here is the second reason I am here.” He answered the phone, putting it on speaker.

&n
bsp; “Aidan, hello.” Gunz heard the familiar voice of his friend Sasha and lifted his head.

  “Hi, Sasha, you’re on speakerphone and Gunz is here, with me,” replied Aidan, offering the phone to Gunz.

  “Sasha, hi,” said Gunz, staring into the screen of the phone unblinking. As nice as it was to hear his friend’s voice, he wasn’t sure that it was safe for Sasha to be in touch with him.

  “Gunz, I know what happened,” said Sasha, his voice laced with worry. “Do you want me to come over? Tell me and I’ll hop on the first plane to Miami.”

  Gunz felt the blood draining off his face. “No,” he said, a little too sharp. He took a deep breath and repeated, “Thank you, but no, Sasha. You stay where you are. As far away from me as possible.”

  “Why? Gunz, what’s going on? You don’t sound like yourself.”

  “Because people get hurt around me,” he replied quietly. “And those who dare to love me end up dead… Thank you, Sasha, but please stay where you are.” He gave the phone back to Aidan.

  “I’m still in one piece and alive,” noted Aidan, taking the phone from Gunz’s hand.

  “You’re a god,” replied Gunz dryly.

  “Gunz, that’s bullshit, man. I don’t believe in all this magic and curses nonsense. If you need me, tell me and I’ll be with you no matter what,” said Sasha. “Aidan, please call me if he changes his mind.”

  “I will,” promised Aidan and hung up the phone. He folded his arms over his chest and turned to Gunz. “I need to see your tears. That’s the other reason I’m here.”

  “You want to make me cry? You don’t think I had enough of it in the last few days,” snapped Gunz.

  “I didn’t say that I want you to cry,” replied Aidan calmly. “Mrak Delar said that I need to see your tears before I leave.”

  “Oh, that,” mumbled Gunz. He took his Swiss Army knife and made a small shallow incision on his arm. A few drops of blood appeared on his skin. He showed it to Aidan. “Bleeding red. I guess, I’m still human.”