A Shadow's Tale (15 page)

I looked down at my hands, which were absent-mindedly shredding blades of grass. ‘I don't know, really. I don't think there are any specific changes. I'm going on Vrael, though. He still needs blood, but sunlight won't kill him, so I guess there are small changes that will happen. Shouldn't be too drastic though.'

He didn't reply, seemingly lost in thought. I continued to
shred the grass, trying to get my nose to focus on something other than the cloying smell of the Outlaw bodies starting to decompose. I could smell something, a scent that gradually grew stronger and stronger. The smell of vampire. And if my empathy wasn't deceiving me, which it rarely does, a very pissed off vampire. I chewed my lip nervously. Yes, the trick with the mouse had been a very low blow and incredibly dishonourable thing to do, taking advantage of his blood-lust. Not only that, but he was going to blow a fuse over the fact that I had jeopardised my safety by playing him. That, and the heart injury. I didn't know if vampires could have heart attacks, but he was certainly going to have kittens when he found out that I was hurt by a demon hunter on his watch.

True to my sense of smell, the silver-haired vampire strode across the grass with fury written all over his face, his bow and quiver slung across his back. I quickly dropped my gaze. Initiating a confrontation was not going to make this any easier.

‘Shadow Wolf Alexai Roth…' he started, but I interrupted him before he could continue.

‘I know, it was really dirty trick to play on you and I'm really sorry I did it. I just had to get away from the clan for a while.' Vrael's expression softened slightly, but it didn't last.

‘Why can I smell your blood?'

Oh goddess…‘We, uh, ran into a demon hunter…' Vrael was instantly next to me, his silver eyes boring into mine.

‘Are you hurt? Where?'

I pushed him away gently. ‘I took a sword through my primary heart, but I'm fine as long as I don't stress myself. Bart's the one with the real problems, not me.' Vrael turned to look at the Kraferr, who was starting to look a little unsettled under the vampire's unwavering, scrutinising silver gaze. Vrael sniffed the air.

‘By all the gods above and below, Shadow, please tell me you
did not…'

‘I wasn't thinking.' I muttered, looking down at my shoes. ‘He was so close to dying from blood loss…'

Vrael sighed, rubbing his temples as if he was starting to get a headache. ‘This breaches so many of the ancient protocols that it aches my mind to contemplate them.'

‘I know! I already said, I wasn't thinking about protocol…'

‘What is done is done. Although I cannot understand one more thing. With your heart so grievously injured and Bart's current conversion, who slew so many?'

‘We picked up a helper along the way,' Bart chipped in. All three of us turned to look at Sither, who was roosting up in a tree. He looked, given the circumstances, impeccable. If I hadn't known, I wouldn't have thought that he had just fought such a bloody battle. I wondered how he had done it. I had been so focused on the Outlaws, I hadn't even noticed how he fought. I don't think I was even aware that he was there. Bart scratched the back of his neck.

‘Well, we should probably be getting on with the quest before the Outlaws send another party to attack us.'

‘No, Bart,' Vrael snapped. ‘You require complete rest until your demonic conversion has had time to complete. Shadow and I must return home before word gets to the demon hunters that she is out and not heavily defended.'

‘Vrael,' I growled before Bart could respond. ‘I said I'd help him in this quest. You know as well as I do that I need something to occupy my mind, or else I'll go mad and surrender myself to Karthragan.'

For a moment, I thought the vampire was going to argue back, but he sighed and shook his head. Defeat radiated off him, defeat and worry. He knew well enough that once I had set my mind firmly to something, it was easier to move a mountain than it was to make me change my mind.

‘As you wish, Shadow, although I will insist that you at least
take the remainder of the night to rest yourselves before undertaking the next leg of your journey.'

I glanced at Bart. ‘Sounds like a fair enough compromise to me.' Bart nodded, lying back on the grass once more and staring at the stars. Vrael folded his long legs to sit down, pulling his longbow and quiver from his back. He took wooden shafts, arrow heads and black and red feathers from the quiver, setting about fletching his own arrows. I smiled faintly. Shaeman and Merlas both gave Vrael their moulted feathers for his fletching. It was a comforting thought, thinking about how well the clan worked together despite our demon sides. I gathered some wood, lighting a small fire to ward away the chill of the night. I curled up next to it, closing my eyes to rest, but sleep refused to come. I sighed irritably. My mind was too awake for anything more than waking nightmares as I imagined the horrors waiting for me in the darkness of the city streets and the future. I sat up, rubbing my eyes. I glanced at Bart, making sure he was okay, then at Vrael. The vampire smiled slightly at me, pulling something from his quiver and tossing it to me. I caught it with an ease born of building our house as a team. In my hand was a sharpening stone. I nodded gratefully at my half-brother, pulling out one sword and running the stone along the edges of the blade. Sharpening a sword, practising my moves, target practice with a bow, grooming Merlas, all repetitive actions that helped me calm myself.

‘Alexai, I do not believe that it is safe for us to remain here.' Vrael spoke in demonic.

I had to hold back a growl. Vrael knew perfectly well that I couldn't stand being called by that name, which meant that he used it to make sure that he had my full attention. Glaring openly at my brother, I snapped back at him in the same language: ‘Don't ever call me that!'

‘Alexai…'

I snarled, leaping to my feet. Vrael mirrored my actions. From
within my mind, the tendrils of the demon's influence grew and took hold as I struggled to keep on top of it. In front of me, Vrael's eyes had turned red, splitting into four. Demonic possession. Now it was a show of strength. My vision became tinted by crimson. The smell of blood and death became as pleasing a smell as that of fresh air and mountain wind had been. I released my iron control over my magic, allowing it to erupt into a flaming aura. Vrael copied, his red magic bursting forth in what could have been considered an impressive show of pyrotechnics. Here and now, all that mattered was showing how strong we were. It was a fight. Anger began to consume me. Until I heard Bart's voice calling my name.

My magic flickered. I stamped down on my demon side, trying to regain control, to force its influence down. I gasped aloud with the effort. Vrael seized the opportunity. He leapt at me, attempting to make the first strike. I kicked out, managing to force him to divert his course briefly. His strength bolstered by his magic, his fist struck my chest. I felt my ribs crack. I fell back with a shout of pain. Bart jumped towards Vrael.

‘What the hell do you think you're doing?' The Kraferr snarled. I gasped for breath. Vrael closed his eyes. I felt his anger ebb away as he calmed himself. I glanced over at the pair. Bart stood behind my brother, one arm round his neck, the other wielding its claws as if to gouge out Vrael's eyes. I sat up slowly, cradling my ribs with one arm. Bart released Vrael, still watching him warily out of the corner of his eye as he crouched next to me.

‘He missed my heart,' I assured him, sensing the concern radiating from him. ‘He must have broken a rib or two, that's all.'

‘Yeah, but it's still a broken rib. Come on,' he gently pulled my arms away, laying his hand lightly over my splintered bones. I threw my head back and snarled silently to the moon as they snapped back into place. Bart leant back on his heels. ‘You okay now?'

‘Yeah,' I replied. ‘Yeah, I'm all right now. Thanks.' I lay back,
rolling onto my side so that my back was facing Bart. A hint of confusion wafted from him, but he didn't ask. I was glad about that. I was so tired, so sore. All I wanted to do was sleep.

I didn't even notice that Vrael had gone. A wave of anger and confusion hit me like a herd of galloping pegusi. I bolted upright with a gasp. Vrael never felt emotions with such power, but they had undoubtedly come from him. Something was very, very wrong. I grabbed my swords, scrambling to my feet and running back towards the city, towards the epicentre of the emotions, trying to ignore the pain lancing through my chest with every breath I took. I arrived in a back alley on the outskirts of the city.

‘Vrael, take high ground!' I shouted. The vampire, bow in hand, swung himself up onto a fire escape. I drew both my swords, preparing to fight. I faced my opponent. Sither and another, cloaked, figure. I sniffed the air. Kraferr. A female Kraferr whose smell was somewhat close to Bart's. But now was not the time to ponder over the Kraferr's scent. The emotions I was sensing from Sither were not good.

‘Why were you really with us, Sither?' I growled, my eyes narrowed. I heard the subtle creaking of Vrael's bow as he drew back the string. I barely noticed the Kraferr female slip away. Sither grinned at me. I didn't like that. It didn't bode well at all. Only an enemy who knew how to win would smile like that. My chest throbbed painfully as it reminded me that I was living on borrowed time until my heart healed. I couldn't afford another injury!

My fears were confirmed when Sither morphed. I cursed under my breath. I had forgotten he was a shifter. Shapeshifter were an increasingly rare shifter race, and damned strong in their ‘true' forms. I had read scrolls about them back in Synairn. And Sither's form did nothing to inspire confidence within my mind. A two metre tall Praying Mantis was not what I wanted to see. I tightened my grip on my swords, highly conscious that the
hilts were starting to feel a little slippery. One of Vrael's arrows appeared out of the corner of my eye. It broke in half as if hit one of the interlocking pieces of armour that formed the Praying Mantis's exoskeleton. I brought both blades up to parry a blow from the giant bug's bladed arms. The impact shook my arms down to the very bone. Goddess, he was strong. I ducked under another attack, swinging my sword in a short arc. I barely scratched his exoskeleton. Growling in frustration, I reluctantly gave ground, concentrating on keeping all my limbs attached to my body. I couldn't see any weak points in his armour plating, nothing I could take advantage of. Another arrow narrowly missed me.

‘Watch where you're aiming!' I yelled without taking my eyes off Sither.

‘Shad?' called out Bart's voice. I half turned to tell him to get the hell out of here. One of Amarath's combat rules floated through my head: Never turn your back on an enemy. I jumped out of the way just too late. Sither's bladed arms ripped through my calf. I fell hard onto the unforgiving ground. Pain stabbed through my shoulder, blinding as the impact hit my chest. I could only lie in shock as the agony froze every thought in my mind. For a moment, I prayed for the fatal blow I knew was going to come. I prayed for it to kill me, to save me from the prophecy. But the blow never came. I glanced up. Bart stood over me, his arms crossed in front of him as he held off Sither's attack. I rolled out of the way. Sither screeched in agony. Blood rained down. I scrambled to my feet, almost falling again as my injured leg gave way beneath me. I grabbed onto a drain pipe. Bart was ripping at Sither's face with his claws as he hung down the Praying Mantis's back. Sither screamed once more, throwing Bart to the ground and fleeing. The Kraferr sprang back to his feet as Vrael swung down from the fire escape. He slung his bow over his back and pulled my arm around his shoulders so he could help support my weight. I leant against him, relief and
gratitude flooding through me.

‘It is unwise for us to linger here, we should…Bart?' We both turned to look for the Kraferr, who had lapsed into unnerving silence. He lay on the ground. His agony surged through my mind with such an unexpected force it almost blinded me. I pressed the heel of my palm against my eye as I knelt next to him, trying to relieve the pain building up in my head as I felt his pain combined with my own, blinding in its agony. Vrael was trying to pin the Kraferr to the ground to limit his thrashing. Violet fur swept over the brown. Not far off, the silver bracers lay in pieces.

‘Bart, come on, let go of your emotions,' I tried to urge him, but he was too far gone for us to bring him back with words. His claws lengthened, digging deep grooves into the concrete. His eyes, already red with his Kraferric transformation, split into four. A double row of bone spikes erupted from his back.

‘Vrael! The Salent!' Calmly but quickly, the vampire handed me a slim vial of silvery liquid. Pulling out the stopper with my teeth, I grimaced as the smell hit me. Salent was a particularly nasty concoction the part demons used in extreme cases to control their brethren. It removed all emotions from the mind for a few moments to a few hours, effectively trapping the demon, which used the emotions to free itself. I grabbed Bart's jaw, trying to ignore the fearsome fangs he now sported, tipping a couple of drops into his mouth. The effect was immediate. He stopped struggling, instead lying on the road much like a limp sock. Slowly, he began to change again. The spikes receded, his claws shortened, his fur turning brown once more. Vrael and I sat in almost identical positions, watching the Kraferr change back into himself. His red eyes, now only two, were still dull. I closed my eyes, focusing on his emotions, blocking out all else. I could feel the faint stirrings of something, but not enough for Bart to pull himself out of the stupor. Not yet.

Ten minutes passed with an agonising slowness. Vrael was on
edge, waiting for another attack. I was focused on Bart, praying that he would recover from this. Stronger flickers of emotion started to spark in the weremonkey's mind. Shadow breathed a sigh of relief as Bart slowly sat up, one hand on his head.