A Sea of Broken Glass

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A Sea of Broken Glass Page 13

by Sonya M Black


  Michel dragged me away from the fray. “Come on.”

  With no time to think, I followed him, the song, and the taint ignored.

  Down the track we ran. Away from the train. Away from the ghouls that feasted on the remains of the train’s crew. Aeron darted into the boulders and headed deeper into the hills. The barks and screams of demons and ghouls dogged our every step.

  “Where are we going?” I panted.

  “Camp Restin is probably closest to our location,” Aeron answered, “but it’s not safe to stop there.”

  “It might be safer than being out in the open with a bunch of demons trailing after us,” I replied. “How far is it?”

  Aeron scanned the hills as we ran. “Not sure. Ten, maybe twenty miles?”

  The distance seemed too far with demons at our backs. “Can we make it?”

  “We have to,” Michel said.

  I nodded and focused on running. One step. Another. I didn’t know if I could keep pace with them for twenty miles, but I intended to give it my best shot. Maybe if we got enough distance between us and the demons, we could set a trap. It seemed like a long shot, but I clung to the hope.

  Hope was all I had.

  12

  Michel attempted to get his bearings. It had been almost an hour since the initial attack on the train. How far had they come? After leaving the tracks to keep from being easily spotted, Aeron had led them southwest. The Copper Hills weren’t the lush, rolling hills of the Gwyaard Province. The barren land sported the occasional tree and scrub bush, but mostly it was covered in loose rock that made running treacherous and hiding from demons difficult.

  He peered around the boulder he crouched behind. Three creatures on the left, two on the right, noses lifted to the air. Sweat trickled down his back from the afternoon sun. Light, how many of the Void-cursed creatures were there?

  The hisses and barks the demons used to communicate meant nothing to him. One pointed a freakishly long finger toward his hiding place and hissed. It was a fair bet they knew where he was.

  Michel jumped from behind the boulder and charged across the distance. The demon turned too slowly, and his rapier, coated in blue paladin’s fire, slid into its side. It shrieked as the flames consumed it from the inside out. Michel pivoted and blocked the downward strike from another demon before riposting and slipping past the creature’s defenses. His blade pierced its heart. It screamed and disintegrated with a wet pop.

  “To your right,” Aeron called as he grappled with a ghoul.

  Michel spun to meet the attack, but his feet slid on the loose stone underfoot, causing him to tumble onto his side. He rolled out of the way as poisoned filled claws swiped where his head would have been. The ghoul leaped, pinning Michel on his back. He held the creature in check, its claws inches from his face.

  Fetid breath flooded his senses as the creature attempted to bite him. His arms and shoulders burned as it pushed forward, its shark-like teeth gnashing. He needed an open palm to call his paladin flames, but that meant letting go of the ghoul.

  A loud crack of pistol fire and the ghoul’s head jerked, its body going limp. Black blood and brain matter coated Michel. Ris stood to the side, already aiming at another ghoul.

  Light bless her, she was handy with a gun.

  Michel heaved the dead creature off, jumped to his feet, and looked around for his next opponent, but there was nothing more than steaming piles of ash and ghoul bodies scattered over the scree-covered hillside.

  Void take it, he hated this part of the country. Ugly, barren, and filled with dust. Thin, muddy streams barely wide enough to step across ran between the squat hills. And everything looked the same.

  Michel glanced at Aeron. “Do you know where we are?”

  “We’re northeast of anywhere that might provide shelter,” Aeron shaded his eyes and stared up at the sky, “but I’m not sure how far.”

  “At this rate, we’ll never make it,” Michel grumbled under his breath.

  “We can’t go back the way we came,” Ris said. “Is there a mining settlement nearby?”

  Aeron scratched his head. “If there is, it’s probably been overrun. This place is crawling with demons and ghouls.”

  Ris stood with her hands on her hips and stared out at the hills. “What are our chances of survival?”

  Michel snorted. Out in the open, they were as good as dead. “We might make it, but only if we keep moving.”

  Aeron clambered up the closest slope, staying low to keep from standing out against the bright blue sky. He paused at the top for a few moments before waving them up.

  Up and over. Quick as they could. Michel caught himself as he slid partway, a trail of dust rising behind him.

  Ris slipped, barely catching herself before she fell. Light, but she was a tough woman. Not a single complaint from her. He admired her stamina and resolve.

  At each hill, they paused to track where they needed to go as well as make sure nothing followed them. Time passed slowly in the endless repetition of up, pause, down. The sun inched sluggishly across the sky, baking the land under its harsh glare. Even the gnarled, half-desiccated trees that appeared now and then looked defeated by the sun’s intensity and offered little in the way of shade.

  The clack of rocks sliding together mixed with their panting breaths. Gradually, another sound intruded on the near silence. It grew louder the further they went into the hills.

  Caw-caw. Caw-caw.

  The raucous noise ate at his nerves. He wanted to scream at the crows to be silent. Up and over the next hill, and he paused halfway down.

  Hundreds of birds packed the space between the hills. A living carpet of black wings.

  Caw-caw. Caw-caw.

  The scent of carrion rose from beneath them, filled Michel’s nose, and choked him.

  Ris covered her face with her coat collar. “What are they eating?”

  “Nothing good, imp.” Aeron approached the birds cautiously, trying to wave them away from their feast, but they refused to move more than a few inches. “Looks like it might have been a ghoul. But I can’t be sure.”

  “There’s got to be more than one,” Ris said quietly.

  Michel drew his sword and swung it at the feasting birds. Reluctantly, they flew off, not far, but far enough that he could see the remains that had once been ghouls or demons. “This is not good.”

  Aeron’s jaw tightened. “How many demons do you think are out here?”

  “Too many.” Michel sheathed his rapier. “Let’s keep moving.”

  The moment he backed away, the crows descended to finish their meal. It hadn’t been a paladin attack that killed the creatures. There were no piles of ash. No scent of burning rot. No leftover traces of magic.

  Ghouls would eat anything, even their own kind. Put enough of them together, and it was bound to turn into a free-for-all. But, why were there so many out in the middle of nowhere?

  Michel shared a look with Aeron. It didn’t matter what direction they went, they would be hunted.

  More hills. More up and down. More bloody remains, an endless swath of it. His thighs and calves burned from the constant motion. He kept a watch over Ris, worried that she would overdo it. It had only been a few days since she’d recovered from near burnout.

  Sweat slid down his back and pooled in the waistband of his trousers. Up and down, and the only signs of demons was the incessant caw-caw of the crows as they feasted.

  “I don’t like this,” he muttered as they crossed between two hills. “We’ve been attacked every time we’ve been in the open, and now, we’re not finding anything but dead demons.”

  “We’re getting close to Camp Restin.” Aeron shifted the pack on his back. “Close enough that the demons might be staying away.”

  “But, why?” Michel rubbed his chin.

  Aeron grimaced. “I’ll scout ahead. See if I can find a way through and some answers.”

  “Is it a goo
d idea to split up?” Ris asked.

  Michel had a sinking feeling that she was right to be worried, but what other choice did they have? “Probably not, but we don’t want to walk into an army of demons, either.”

  The air around Aeron shimmered, his form growing hazy as it rearranged itself. Orange fur sprouted along his face while his nose and mouth elongated into a muzzle. With a flash, Aeron disappeared, and a fox stood in his place.

  Ris knelt next to Aeron and stroked his head. “Be careful, fox-face.”

  Aeron licked her hand before bounding off.

  “Do you think he’ll be okay?” Ris sat on a boulder, drawing her knees up to her chest.

  “It’s us I’m worried about.” Michel offered her a tired smile. “Let’s see if we can find somewhere more hidden to wait.”

  She followed as he searched for a place to rest that would be defensible. There weren’t many options. A few large boulders, some scraggly trees.

  “Over here,” she called.

  Two boulders butted against the hillside to provide a narrow bit of shelter. It wasn’t much, but if they wedged themselves into the cramped space, they shouldn’t be visible.

  Hopefully.

  Ris seemed to be a magnet for attracting the dark creatures. Michel still hadn’t figured out how the demons had tracked them on the train from Greendale. Ruin couldn’t have known the details of the plan to rescue Ris. The thought that there were enough demons to watch every stop, every train was more than a little frightening.

  Michel didn’t want to consider the fact that one of Ris’s protectors might be compromised. That was a dangerous road to walk. Accusing one of them before he had proof could cause friction during a time when they needed vigilance, not infighting. But, the worry of it nagged at him. How far had the Darkness spread?

  “Do you think Camp Restin has been attacked?” Ris settled the packs at the back of the small crevice and squeezed herself in as far as possible.

  “It’s a distinct possibility.” Michel wiggled into the tiny space, settling next to her, their shoulders pressed together.

  The heat of the day quickly overwhelmed the cramped crevice. Sweat slid down his face. He didn’t fully understand her desire to find the Heart. It seemed reckless, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that Ris was being influenced by the Darkness.

  He shifted, wrapping an arm around Ris’s shoulders in an attempt to give them both more space. She smiled up at him, and then adjusted so that her head rested against his chest. Light, the amused glint in her eyes made his heart speed up. What was wrong with him?

  Michel pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. Twelve past four. He shoved the watch back into his pocket and closed his eyes.

  The silence felt oppressive in the stale heat. With nothing to look at but rocks, restless energy buzzed through him. He opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it. He didn’t know what to talk about.

  Seconds passed. Minutes. The shadows of the hills slid slowly across the ground. The need to do something, anything, had him reaching for his pocket watch again.

  The crunch of rocks alerted them to the presence of someone, or something. Michel reached for a pistol and drew it slowly, trying hard not to make any sound.

  “She’s here somewhere,” a smooth baritone voice said. “I can feel it.”

  Michel extended his magical senses. Nothing. No signs of taint. He started to move forward, but Ris gripped his arm.

  “Don’t,” she hissed. “There’s something wrong.”

  “What?” Michel whispered.

  “I… don’t know.”

  Michel stretched his senses again, searching for any signs of demons. Once again, nothing. Strange.

  “Fan out and look,” a raspy male voice called.

  “What are we going to do?” Ris whispered, her eyes wide and her face pale.

  “Stay still and maybe they will move on.” Michel slowly shifted so that it would be easier to jump out if they were discovered.

  “Can you pinpoint her?” A blond man stepped into view, his eyes scanning the space around their hiding spot.

  Michel tensed when his eyes slid over the boulders and paused for a second.

  “She’s close.” A second man joined the first.

  Sunlight glinted off the silver pins on the collars of their standard issue grey coats. Paladins.

  “Michel—” Ris’s fingers dug into his arm. A flurry of notes built around her, brassy trumpets that threatened to reveal their location.

  His magic flared in response to hers. He threw a quickly cobbled together barrier around her. He wasn’t a Shield or a Cloak, but maybe he could dampen her magic enough to keep them hidden. The deep groans of cellos muffled her flames, muting them until they became whispers. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her lips pressed together.

  “Hold on,” he whispered. “Just a little longer.”

  “Found her!” The triumphant shout echoed against the stone covered hills. The pair of paladins strode purposefully toward their hiding spot.

  “They aren’t demons,” Ris whispered, “but they are tainted.”

  Michel didn’t know how she knew. Didn’t really care. He trusted her, which surprised him. The bark of his pistol was deafening in the confined space, but his aim was true.

  The blond man let out a strangled cry and collapsed, blood gushing from a hole in his thigh. Michel leaped out of the hiding place and drew his rapier. The other paladin intercepted him. Metal clashed against metal as their blades danced in a familiar pattern.

  He focused on the steps. Parry. Riposte. Side-step. Lunge. He waltzed in time to the sweeping notes of his magic and blue flames swirled along his blade. It slid past the paladin’s defenses and into his chest. The man’s mouth opened and closed, surprise etched on his face as he crumpled to the ground. Michel pulled his rapier free and froze.

  A half-dozen paladins surrounded him, rifles aimed at his heart. Anger rolled from them in a palpable force that sent a chill through him.

  “Gilbert, inform the Commander we’ve found them.” One of the paladins stepped forward and pushed the barrel of his rifle into Michel’s chest.

  A scrawny young man darted off, disappearing around the hill.

  “Come on out, sweetie,” the paladin hit Michel in the stomach with the butt of the rifle, “or I’ll give the order to shoot.”

  Michel avoided looking at the place where Ris hid. It surprised him that she hadn’t come out on her own. In the short time that he’d known her, she’d never backed away from a fight.

  A buzz hummed through the bond they shared. Music built into a frenzied crescendo that made Michel’s skin crawl. There was something wild in the magic. Something inexplicable. The paladins shifted restlessly as the music surrounded them in a flurry of sharp notes.

  “What are you doing?” The paladin on Michel’s right dropped his rifle and fell to his knees. “Stop it!”

  Michel shook his head. It wasn’t him. The music was familiar with its honey-rich tones, but at the same time, there was a frantic edge to it. An uncontrolled bite that threatened to light the world on fire if it was released.

  Ris stepped from her hiding spot, holy flames licking over her body. A vengeful goddess wreathed in blue and orange fire. The dangerous song whirled around her with notes that sliced and cut.

  “Light help us,” Michel whispered.

  13

  Years have passed, and the world has changed. Has turned away from me. The seeds the Darkness sowed so long ago have borne fruit that is corrupt. It spreads his lies. His taint touches everything. But, in spite of that, she hears me, and soon she will release me from my prison.

  ~Excerpt from “The Lady and the Darkness” as translated by Sir Gwilam Cavanaugh

  Magic burned in the air. A noxious song with sharp notes that warped and twisted around me. I shook my head to clear it. The scent of rotten meat and cold death filled my nose. It reminded me of Tolbert.
>
  Everything about the paladins that surrounded Michel was wrong. Corruption wove through their souls, a spider web of Darkness that trapped them. There were no demons in them. These men weren’t possessed, but they had willingly given themselves to the Darkness.

  Their taint called to me. Demanded action.

  Memories flooded me. Pain. Fear. Violation. It wrapped around me and commanded me to take vengeance for every wrong, every injustice that had been visited on my flesh. My body shook as I tried to ignore the flashback of torture and cruelty at the hands of the Inquisitor.

  The need for retribution mixed with the call of the taint and sang a half-remembered song that begged me to unleash my fury. I could have my revenge. I could make them pay for what they’d done.

  Michel pushed his rapier into his opponent’s chest, and the man folded to the ground.

  Too late.

  More paladins had come.

  The melody crescendoed in response. Violent notes to slice the corruption from their veins.

  Ecstasy filled me.

  More. I needed their deaths to fill the void inside of me.

  I shook with need as music swept away my restraint in strains of exultation. Flames licked across my skin in silken caresses. Magic built to the point of pain, but I drew more. Held it until I thought I would burst with the joy of it. The notes coated my tongue in honey wine and left a pool of warmth in my belly.

  More. I desired their blood.

  Their screams.

  I needed their destruction.

  Light filled my vision with flames of orange and blue. Everything disappeared, and I became the song. I stepped from the cave, ready to deal my vengeance. Ready to burn and raze the taint from the world.

  “Please. Stop.”

  I ignored the paladin’s plea, ignored the bittersweet pain that threatened to rip me apart. I only had eyes for the men who wanted to torture me. To taste my blood and fear as Tolbert had done.

 

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