by F J Blair
Temperance stopped reading. Her eyes wandered down the page to several illustrations. The first looked almost a perfect match to the rune she had seen on Astor’s forehead.
The one with a bloody gash running right through the middle of it.
A single line can not only disrupt a spell, but reverse its effect altogether. Her grandfather’s lessons echoed in Temperance’s ears. I imagine that would have quite the impact on something as important as a binding rune.
So, in all likelihood, her grandfather sealed something away years ago inside a poor, ordinary horse, and it just happened to be the one she befriended after the destruction of Cold Valley. Far as coincidences went, this one had a rather cruel vein to it.
None of this told her what the creature lurking underneath Astor’s skin was, but it gave her a clue as to repairing the damage. All she needed to do was restore the original rune, and the spell should start working again.
Simple, except for the minor problem of how she was supposed to do that. Not like she could redraw the lines with chalk, or erase the gash along Astor’s head. At the very least, she would need to wait for the original wound to heal or risk doing more damage to the key binding.
One problem at a time, like Da always used to say, she reminded herself. Just got to focus on getting through tomorrow, then the next day, then the next.
Perhaps she would take William up on his offer. There were bound to be reagent shops in Messanai City. One of them was certain to have more information that could be of help.
Feeling much better now that she had something of a plan together, Temperance rolled over to get some shut eye before the sun reared its fiery head again. Yes, traveling to Messanai was sounding like a better and better idea. It would be a simple matter of following the coastline to reach the southern metropolis. She glanced over at her new companion.
A strange man stood in the middle of the ruin.
The sight caught Temperance so off-guard, all she could do was stare in confused shock at the figure hovering over William. Her hand twitched towards her guns, only for her to remember that she had no ammo for them, magickal or otherwise. The stranger took no notice of her.
He wore what looked like a traveling suit, but of a cut and style that she wasn’t familiar with. His head was unadorned, with long, colorless hair that matched the pale skin underneath. In the daylight he would have been what folks liked to call “lanky”, but under the blue-green glow of midnight the stranger looked more like a hungry spirit, freshly risen from the grave.
His hips carried neither belt nor holster, but Temperance didn’t doubt for a moment that the man was armed. Not out here, in the middle of this dangerous wilderness.
A bandit, perhaps? One of the Gunpowder Gang’s men? Perhaps this ruin was their hideout. She glanced about for signs of any others. Her hand drifted down and drew out her hunting knife.
The knife was whisper-quiet, but somehow the stranger still heard it. He turned and looked down at her.
Bringing a finger to his lips, he gave her a smile full of teeth that were the purest white, even under the hue of the twin moons. There was something . . . off about them.
Then she realized what it was: they were all filed to points, like the mouth of a hungry wolf.
The sight froze Temperance all over again. Her muscles gave a little shiver, seizing up so tight it felt like she was a coiled spring. She almost collapsed from relief when the stranger looked away.
Bending down, he traced a finger along William’s cheek, a gesture that would have looked tender under better circumstances. The boy’s eyes sprang open, and he stared in raw terror at the pale figure.
“Komst stet, meins Willabeatha,” the stranger murmured. His words carried the same strange accent as William’s. The boy appeared to understand their meaning, for he began to quake beneath his blanket hard enough to shake it free.
The sight brought Temperance back to herself. She launched to her feet, knife raised to a defensive stance. “Keep your hands to yourself, you filthy—”
Her words cut off as the stranger’s hand clamped down on her throat. She stared at him as he lifted her aloft. How did he cross the room so quick? she wondered, her mind gone all feather-headed. It must be at least ten, twelve feet!
There was no time for further thought. The stranger hurled her against the wall with an almost casual strength. Temperance bounced off it, the wind knocked out of her. By the time she landed, he was already back on the other side of the ruin.
That might have gone better for me. What should I do now? Temperance gave a shake of her head, trying to clear the swirl of colors smeared across her eyes.
Across the clearing, William scrabbled free of his blanket and stood pressed against a wall. He clutched a hammer between shaking fingers—where that came from Temperance couldn’t even begin to guess—and swung it awkwardly as the stranger approached.
“Galeikan! I will not go back, I will not!” He took another swing. The stranger caught the hammer by the haft and pulled it from Wiliam’s grasp, tossing it aside with a dull thud.
Temperance glanced about and saw the knife lying next to her. She hadn’t noticed before, but the strange runes etched into the blade were glowing again. They seemed to appear whenever the sun was down, but never that bright before.
She reached towards the hilt, then paused. That stranger, whatever he was, moved unnaturally fast. She needed a distraction if she wanted to land a solid hit, end this fight before things turned worse for them. He appeared distracted for the moment, talking to William in that language of theirs, but doubtful that would last for long.
Gripping the knife with one hand, Temperance reached into her coat pocket and drew out her three remaining hex spheres. She glanced at the runes. Fire striker. Not the best idea in close quarters. Bees are out, too. That just leaves . . . .
With a quick swing, she hurled the flare sphere at the stranger’s feet. He glanced back as Temperance let out a cry of, “Lumentaranta!”
Even with her head turned and her eyes squeezed shut, the light that filled the crumbling ruin was bright enough to leave halos across her vision. Temperance only hoped that the stranger would be in even worse condition, at least long enough for her to cross the distance and put a hole or two in him.
She never got the chance. A daemonic howl split the air, and as Temperance’s eyes recovered from the flare spell, she saw that it was not afterimages in her eyes at all. The stranger flailed about the clearing, clothes and skin bathed in a white fire that licked hungrily across his body.
Did I throw the fire sphere by mistake? Temperance wondered. No, must have been another faulty spell. Damn that dog-licking merchant and his shoddy merchandise! At least this time it worked in my favor.
The man beat at the flames in a panicked frenzy, his screams growing high-pitched, then dove through one of the openings in the wall. Temperance was after him in a heartbeat, knife held at the ready. She arrived in time to see a scorched and smoking figure pitch over the edge of the cliff. He fell into the blackness of the canyon and was gone.
Back in the ruin, William sat slumped down against the wall, knees pulled up tight to his chest. He quivered a few times, but otherwise appeared unhurt. Temperance considered the boy for a moment, then fetched his blanket. He gave a little nod as she draped it about him, but didn’t look up.
“So.” Temperance paused, then started again. “You want to tell me what that was all about?”
Chapter Six
Now that the fighting was over, the night’s chill began to sink into Temperance’s bones again. She pulled her jacket tight and glanced at William. He still hadn’t looked her in the eyes.
“Who was that man? What was he, for that matter?”
William gave a little shake of his head. “You would not believe me.”
“Oh really? You already saw what I was running from. After that, there isn’t much that surprises me anymore.”
“I . . . .” The boy glanced up at her, drew in a
breath, then looked away again. Silence began to stretch between them, with only the occasional chirp of a cricket to break it.
Temperance sighed and dropped down so that the two of them were eye-level. “Fine. I’ll make you a deal: you share your story, and I promise I’ll see you to Messanai City. I get the feeling you’ll need the extra hand getting there.”
“You will?” William’s face brightened. “After all of this?”
“That’s right. Helping folks like you is what I do.”
The boy blinked at her. “What you ‘do’?”
“I’m a hunter, of sorts. Daemons, monsters, that sort of thing.”
“You are Lubjaleisei?” Temperance gave a blank stare, and William added, “A moment, I remember the word for this. Pistol . . . Warlock?”
Temperance couldn’t help but grin. “Something like that. Nevermind about me, though. You want to tell me about your friend back there, and if we should be expecting any more like him?”
The air still carried the smell of burning flesh. William glanced towards the cliff, seeming to consider his next words. Somewhere in the distance a nightlark trilled. Morning wouldn’t be too far behind it.
At last the boy spoke. “I do not think we will see any others. Even seeing Lucius here was a surprise. For him to come himself, he must be desperate to return with me.”
“Lucius, that was the fellow who took the express line over the cliff? What was he? Didn’t have the look of a daemon about him, least none I’ve ever seen.”
For a moment, the memory of those razor-sharp teeth flashed through Temperance’s mind, and how the sight of them had left her frozen in place.
“Not a daemon. Upyr.”
Temperance waited for the boy to translate again. When he didn’t, she cleared her throat. “You care to chew that one a little finer? What’s an upyr?”
“Dangerous.” William’s whole body shook. “They feed upon men, or turn them into slaves with their power.”
“They eat humans?”
“Not eat, not exactly. Upyr drink blood to survive. They can also inject a toxin through their bites that places the victim under their control. We call it becoming anwida–enthralled.”
When Temperance didn’t respond, William glanced up at her. “You do not believe me.”
“Oh, I believe you, just trying to put the pieces together, is all. Can’t say I’ve ever heard of these ‘upyr’ before. It’s going to take some time for all this to rattle together in my skull.” Temperance thought back over everything she had learned from her grandfather and Martin. She knew about dozens of strange creatures said to haunt the dark corners of Korvana and had personally run into more of them than she cared for. Jack-cats, lurkers, wikilou, false mountains—all of them were the stuff of nightmares.
There were also tales from Galinor. Myths like the kreshk—disembodied beings summoned by dark magick, who offered forbidden knowledge for a price. Or there were the whispered tales of bonehounds, said to hunt anyone caught out alone on moonless nights. Skin-walkers, shadow knights, the Caele, the list went on and on.
Yes, there were more than enough horrifying monstrosities stalking the night to keep any sane person awake in sweat-drenched terror. Anyone with two beans in their skull was smart to stay home and hope that nothing too nasty ever came a-calling.
But a creature that wore the guise of a man and lived upon their blood? That could control its victims—enthrall them, as it were—with a single bite? Well, that was a new one.
“Enthralled. Is that what you thought I was when we first met in the canyon?”
The boy nodded. “At least right until your, ah, horse appeared.”
“So what does this Lucius fellow want? Him following you all the way across the ocean seems a bit much just for a meal. Was he trying to make you into a . . . .”
She fumbled for the right word. William came to her aid.
“A thrall? No, our relationship is . . . more complicated than that.”
He lapsed into silence again, refusing to meet her eye. There was clearly more going on with this situation, but it appeared Temperance would have to poke it out of the boy with a stick.
“Alright, you better start just at the beginning.”
“The beginning?” William tapped his cheek. “I will do my best. According to our oral histories, the first upyr appeared—”
Temperance held up a hand. “That might be a bit too much of a beginning. Do me a favor and cut to the part about you getting hung out to dry.”
“I . . . what?” The boy looked confused. Temperance winced.
“Nevermind. Why isn’t Lucius making you into a thrall?”
“As I said, it is complicated.” William paused, as if choosing his next words. “Among the clans, there is a rule, meant to maintain the balance of power and prevent a shortage of food. The upyr cannot increase their numbers beyond a certain measure, only adding to their ranks when one of them dies.”
Temperance let out a snort. “How do they enforce something like that? From what I’ve seen, people find ways to have children, no matter the consequences afterwards.”
“The upyr cannot have children. Instead, they take a human, drain them of blood, and at the moment before death force their victim to drink some of their own. The person is reborn as an upyr, forever doomed to bring the same pain and misery upon their kin that they themselves once suffered.”
Aw, hell. Temperance cursed to herself as the boy lapsed into silence again. Every time I think a situation can’t get any worse, the Three have to go and pull the saddle out from under me. Give me a good old-fashioned daemon any day of the week over something like this.
She had a good idea where the story was heading now, but waited for the boy to say his piece. Might be that sharing this with another person would help him work through the ache that she could see in his eyes.
“Several months ago, Lucius’s grandmother, Matriarch of our clan, passed into the Endless Dark. My home of Reinstaht was in a state of mourning for weeks. Dignitaries from the other clans poured in, and many of the servants were called up as offerings, my youngest cousin included. When it was over, Lucius earned the right to choose the next member of the clan. He chose me.”
Silence reigned between them. The boy stared at nothing in particular, while Temperance watched him, chewing over this new information.
“So what happened after that? Clearly Lucius didn’t turn you.”
William shook his head. “He could not. Clan law forbids turning someone before their sixteenth birthday.”
“And you’re not sixteen yet?” Temperance gave the boy a more appraising look. There wasn’t much build to him, that was for true. No broad shoulders, no muscles worth spitting at. She had assumed he was just a late bloomer.
“Not for nine more days.”
“Hmm.” She tapped her chin, then shrugged. “What about these thralls you mentioned? You think some of them might come after you next?”
William nodded. “When Lucius returns, he will almost certainly bring reinforcements. He will not risk himself so openly next time.”
“Next time?” Temperance felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She leapt to her feet, knife already in hand. “He’s still alive? Why didn’t you tell me that before?”
“I . . . I am sorry, I thought you knew.”
“Well I didn’t. Maybe start the conversation with an important detail like that next time.” Temperance’s eyes darted about, scanning every shadowy corner, ears listening for the sound of an approach. Nothing moved, but that didn’t tell her much. Lucius had gotten the drop on her once before, no doubt he could do it again if he wanted. Her hands itched to pull ammo from bandoliers that were no longer there.
Of all the times to lose everything, this has got to be one of the worst. Now I’ve got not one, but two monsters after me, and I can count all my advantages on a single hand. Won’t even need all my fingers to do it.
If this upyr returned, their best chance—perhaps o
nly chance—would be to keep herself between him and William. If she got lucky and hit him with her fire sphere, it might finish him off, or at least knock him down long enough for them to get away.
Or it might not. Temperance ground her teeth in frustration. Nothing worse than facing an enemy you didn’t understand. She had experienced more than enough of that for one lifetime.
There was a touch to her arm, and Temperance near jumped out of her skin. William stood next to her, concern spreading across his boyish features. “Please, relax. He will not return tonight. The wounds you inflicted will take several days to heal.”
Temperance blew out a breath of air and dropped back to the dirt. That solves one problem, I reckon. Also tells me these monsters can be hurt. A small weight lifted from her chest. She looked at William as he settled down across from her.
“In that case, tell me what else I should know about these upyr. What are their weaknesses, and more importantly, how do I go about killing one for good?”
“Kill?” William frowned. “I . . . I do not think such a thing can be done. To even speak of it was a death sentence in Isterial.”
“Still, you must have some ideas. Fire clearly hurts them, I saw that much.”
The boy looked thoughtful. “Yes, that was most unexpected.” His expression brightened. “If you can do that again, it might be enough to immobilize him until morning.”
“Morning? What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Upyr detest sunlight. The mere touch of it can burn their skin away in moments. It may be that with enough time, it can kill one as well.” He glanced away. “Admittedly, I do not know for certain, but there is little else that will be of help. Weapons cannot harm them for long, and they are immune to poison and disease.”
Something turned over in Temperance’s skull. So the sphere wasn’t faulty after all. Must be whatever light it created was similar enough to the sun to do the trick.