Chain of Shadows (Blood Skies, Book 6) (20 page)

Jaffe had explained their sad story to Cross, though it was hard to say how much of the tale was real and how much was conjecture or even outright falsehood born of idolatry.  They were unquestionably powerful, and might have even been related to the avatars of the White Mother in some oblique fashion.  Cross intended to find out.

The Masters hovered just above the ground, wounded angel-like beings incapable of moving on their own.  A host of gendarmes was with them, tall men dressed in black and red steel armor and armed with hexed double-bladed swords with leather central pommels.  They wore masks like the Masters – half-plate cowls with sharp jaws and grills to allow breathing – and their thick crimson capes fluttered in the hot desert wind.  The gendarmes maintained distance around the Masters, who seemed uncomfortable in the presence of the sun.

“
My Masters,” Jaffe spoke, allowing his spirit to translate the words for their guest’s benefit, “may I present Eric Cross and Ankharra, leader of this band from across the Black Sea.”

“
We have seen none from across the sea in many years,
” one of the Masters said, but it was impossible for Cross to tell which one.  “
Tell us how you came to be here.”

Cross looked at Ankharra.  He wasn’t about to speak for the group.

Hundreds of Raijin’s citizens stood amassed in crowds to either side of the open square or looked down from the rooftops.  It seemed their arrival was something of a spectacle, though none of the people dared approach, regarding the Southern Claw visitors like wild zoo creatures.

“
We were brought here,” Ankharra said, also speaking through her spirit to translate.  “We don’t know by whom, or for what purpose.  I’m sorry if our arrival has caused any…unrest,” she said uncertainly.  “We’re just trying to get home.”

“
And we will help you get there,
” another Master spoke.  The voice sounded slightly different, but once again Cross couldn’t determine of them spoke, and it occurred to him then how androgynous they were, that while one looked almost female it was difficult to tell due to all of the armor plating and iron-capped leather they wore.  Their wings remained stationary even as they hovered, and the slightest motion seemed to cause them terrible pain. 

Something about them, and that place, seemed familiar.

“
You shall be our guests in Raijin,
” another Master said.
 
“
We ask that you behave as such.
”

I know that voice
, Cross thought, but the recognition was vague, like something out of a dream.  The notion nagged at him, but he couldn’t for the life of him determine why he felt he’d met these creatures before.

Ankharra nodded from atop the camel.  The Masters floated backwards, their ironclad arms folded across their chests.  The masked gendarmes moved protectively with the angels as they floated over the steps, back towards the doors to the black temple.

“My men will show you to a place where you can rest,” Jaffe said. 

Cross nodded his thanks.  He and Ankharra exchanged looks, and he had a feeling she was thinking the same thing he was.

Did things just get better, or worse?

ELEVEN

STATION

The trek back across the desert took longer than expected.  Having one man unconscious and another held prisoner didn’t help.

After that shit in the forest, we’re lucky to be here at all
, Danica thought.

Creasy, Grail and Jade stood watch while Danica secured Laros’ hands behind a gnarled tree at the edge of the railway station, an oasis of modern industrialization in the middle of the desert.  The sky was flat and smelled of pitch, and the sun was setting fast.  Cold wind came at their backs and whipped up clouds of dust.

By their spirit’s estimations they were about a day behind the main group, heading south past the now abandoned railway station, where some sort of calamity had taken place.  Massive corpses smoked on the ground, and recently dug graves numbered nearly a dozen slain. 

The air grew colder by the minute.  Laros’ dirty blonde hair hung down over his face, and his once exquisite robes were stained with blood and iron-grey dust.  His eyes were locked on something that wasn’t there, the same place his mind had gone.  He’d barely uttered a word since they’d recovered him and Jade from the haunted forest, hadn’t even put up much resistance when they’d restrained him after he’d tried to kill Ronan. 

“Uncomfortable?” she asked him. 

She pulled his hands tight.  If they’d had some proper restraints, like the locking arcane gauntlets the Revengers used in Black Scar, she could have assured he wouldn’t be able to call on his spirit, but as things stood she and Creasy just had to keep a constant eye on him, and with a warlock of Laros’ skill that was a dangerous proposition.  Mages of the White Council were particularly adept at utilizing their spirits in very subtle fashion – chances were Laros could have been conjuring a blade of force right over Danica’s head and she wouldn’t even realize it till it was too late. 

Jade, for her part, was doing better, but she was still severely shaken by whatever had happened to them.  She’d told them that after the crash all of the survivors from the forward section had been ripped into the sky by some sort of black whirlwind.  Jade had fallen unconscious, but she remembered hearing men scream as they were torn apart by teeth in the storm. 

“
When I came to,” she’d said, “we were in the forest, in that clearing.  They already had us staked down.”             

“
Who did?” Danica asked.

“
Those bodies.  They were alive, but they
weren’t
.  There was something dead inside them.  They didn’t talk to us, didn’t communicate with us at all.  All they wanted to do was cause pain, so they tortured the soldiers one at a time.  They….burned them…tore them…”  She couldn’t go on, and neither Danica nor Creasy was about to ask her to.

Her description of the storm matched the bizarre weather formations they’d seen over the dead woods, and then again over the rail station just before they’d arrived, but thankfully that storm had cleared.  Traces of dark cloud still hung in the air, spiraling like ink in water.  Small and slow-moving whirlwinds took shape and spun a few miles away, utterly silent and dark, appearing just for a moment before they vanished again.

This place sucks.

Jade was close by, rubbing her arms for warmth and staring at Laros.  Her long dark hair was heavy with sweat and grime, and in the darkening light her green eyes seemed to glow.  Her loose pants and shirt had once been green but were now stained black and brown with desert grit, and she looked exhausted beyond all measure.

“Are you okay?” Danica asked.  It took Jade a moment to realize she’d been addressed, and she nodded.  She was sullen and exceedingly quiet, barely resembling the strong and authoritative Shard enforcer they’d dealt with in Blacksand.  Whatever had happened to her had shaken her to the core.

Jade hadn’t acted against them in any way but Danica was still suspicious of her, especially considering that the only other person they’d rescued from the clutches of those body-stealing ghosts had turned into something of a lunatic.  After stabbing Ronan and trying his absolute best to tear the man’s head from his shoulders, Laros had reverted to a near catatonic state, responsive to direction but otherwise immersed in his own personal dreamland. 

Ronan, on the other hand, was still unconscious and clinging to life after he’d been stabbed through the guts with his own blade.  Creasy’s spirit had repaired the damage as best she could, but even though the wounds had been sealed and the organs repaired Ronan remained in what seemed to be a full-blown coma. 

Creasy had done the lion’s share of the work hauling Ronan behind them on a makeshift sled they’d crafted from the remains of a long-collapsed cedar, and with three mages they were able to make the going a bit easier, even if Jade seemed reluctant and even a bit uncertain about using her magic. 

The witch’s spirit seemed…
off
, Danica thought, not as bad as Laros’, but not much better.  Both of the ghosts were distant and detached, circling the party without joining their host mages the way normal spirits did.  Danica didn’t sense any excessive signs of aggression or rage…she didn’t sense much of
anything
from them, and that was even worse.  Her and Creasy’s spirits, on the other hand, were buzzing around excitedly, upset by the presence of those who’d been tainted.  She couldn’t speak for Creasy, but hers was driving her nuts.

Ronan lay on the sled, unconscious, looking serene.  Danica watched him with a sense of remorse.

You’d better not die, you bastard
, she thought bitterly. 
I was just getting to know you.  And I really liked what I saw. 
The two of them had made the trek to find the Witch’s Eye together, and Ronan had helped her find her way back from the dark void that her mind had been lost in.  In the process he seemed to have come to terms with some of his own demons, including his gruesome upbringing at the hands of the Crimson Triangle. 
There’s no fixing people like us
, she thought. 
Sometimes I think that’s something Eric doesn’t understand.  Sometimes things just don’t get any better.

She quietly patted Ronan’s hand.  It was the most at peace she’d seen him in a long time. 

Danica was at a loss.  She was tempted to leave Laros and Jade at the rail station – they’d clearly been altered by their experiences in the forest, and not in a good way – and try to catch up with Cross and the others as fast as they could, but she wasn’t ready to do that.  Not yet. 

Grail stood a hundred yards away, halfway between what appeared to be the station office and the spot where Danica, Jade and Ronan rested by the dead tree.  A dismantled drill sat close by, apparently having been used to rip into the dark red soil, and a train was at the other end of the open yard.  While Grail kept watch with an arrow nocked in his bow Creasy entered the office with his sawed-off shotgun in hand.

The wind picked up.  Danica watched strange birds in the distance, smeared silhouettes in the failing light.  The sky was the color of blood, filled with a black and frozen wind that cut straight through her armor and chilled her to the bone.  She could have sworn she heard voices coming out of the wastelands behind them, the fading echoes of lost souls. 

After a couple of minutes Creasy re-emerged and signaled that the building was clear.  They brought Ronan and Jade inside, and Grail kept watch while Danica went to fetch Laros, with Creasy looking on.  The White Council warlock hadn’t struggled, hadn’t even moved.  His eyes stared straight ahead as she undid his bonds.  He didn’t seem to notice the small insect on his lips or the sand blasting the side of his face as the wind picked up.  She wasn’t even sure if he’d blinked.

Danica tied his hands behind his back once she’d pulled him away from the tree and led him towards the railway office.

“
They’re coming for you,” he said.

She grabbed his wrists hard and spun him around.  He seemed to look right through her.

“What did you say?” she snapped.  Their faces were inches apart.  Danica’s hair blew sideways in the wind.  When Laros didn’t respond she pushed him back.  “What did you say?!”

He didn’t respond.  He didn’t seem to have heard her.

She marched him to the building.  Fear flooded her veins.

They spent the night in the railway station.  Though it had been mostly picked clean they did find some dried rations and extra cloaks in the barren and dust-filled main room, which looked to have served as a combination storehouse and meeting hall.  Numerous maps were pinned to a bulletin board, and a few odd tools lay in the corner.  Large windows let in the dusk light, but even with a pair of lamps burning the office was still drenched in darkness.

Along with the supplies was a note written in Cross’s questionable penmanship: 

Locals are leading the survivors to the city of Raijin.  Follow the road running parallel to the railway.  See you soon.

Though there were a few closets and smaller offices likely meant to be used by ranking officers on the site, Danica and Creasy decided they should all stay together in the main room.  They tied Laros to a wooden support beam, his hands behind him so he could sit and spread his legs out on the floor.  Danica decided to lay Ronan in the corner, and she, Creasy and Grail would take turns sleeping when they weren’t on watch, which they decided would be best handled in pairs rather than alone – one person would sleep while the other two maintained vigil, and they’d cycle through to make sure everyone got rest, which would work out well since Lith generally needed very little sleep.

Jade didn’t offer to take part in the watch, and the request wasn’t made.  Aside from saying ‘thank you’ when offered some canned beans and helping to set up her own bedroll it was almost like she wasn’t even there.  She was the first to fall asleep, and she quietly wrapped herself up and turned away from the others.