Fate's Hand (3 page)

“This,” Jerib took the vial in his hand with extreme care. "This is not just water. This is something very special and rare. I acquired three of these years ago and this is my last one. Invisibility elixir: very potent and amazing but it doesn’t last very long." Jerib held the vial out before him. "I figure you need it more than this old man."

Jerib looked onto Val with a warm smile and then a serious look set in. "Orcs are not to be taken lightly, boy. I don’t know how good you are with a sword, but even a master swordsman would have trouble with five orcs at once. Drink this potion when they are asleep, unchain your sister, and run. Run as fast and as far as you can. If Daria is too weak, then hide. Orcs are stupid and will eventually give up and move on. But do not fight them. Something I’ve learned in my years in this land: A wise retreat is always better than a brave death." Val took the words in, thoughts of death heavy on his mind.

"Thank you for everything, Jerib." He stood and took the man’s hand.

"I’m only sorry I can’t do more for you, Val. After you save that sister of yours, please return here and let me have the pleasure of your company when the situation is better."

Val had his fresh gear and the items Jerib had given him and set out an hour later. It was dark outside, but he needed to get back on the road before the orcs set out. It seemed they were sleeping during the day and traveling at night. With the amount of ground he could cover as they slept he would catch them eventually. Before he left, Jerib had told him many orcs had taken hostages to the Grey Hills as slaves.

Something was going on in the Grey Hills, but every search party sent out by the King either went missing or found nothing. Jerib said they would keep her alive, but Val had to catch up to them before they sold her. He walked for several hours under the moonlight, seeing shadows moving in the trees at distances and hearing animals stirring in the woods. He wanted to light a torch but was more afraid of the attention the light would bring to him. Val wrapped his cloak around himself as he continued on.

Drask was looking over the scroll he found that would help him take a human's hand.
W
hen Drask first received the parchment, part of it was destroyed and Drask could find no other mate to the scroll. Regardless, most of the damage was to the section with the writer’s notes, warnings, and scribbles. He was not worried. Drask had been setting up for this day for a long time; nothing would stop him now. He had one of his underlings bring a newly-acquired soul, one from the same land Yusar came from, to be brought to his chamber as part of the requirements. The spell required a dead human; Drask would use its memories to channel a human on the surface. He knew Yusar had collected the book so he told his imp to be ready to contact him as soon as Drask was finished with the ritual. He checked pack of papers and few magical weapons. He ran his fingers over his prized staff and double checked the Cerberus blood vial was in his pocket. Everything was prepared. He looked at the beaten man chained to the wall.

"You had better not mess this up."

The man, only half coherent, looked on in dread. Drask sat himself between his summoning table and the man. He started reading the scroll.

“
Kerlish mar erish ra tempos pur…”

The candles in the room burned low, his voice vibrating and growing louder.
Tension began to mount and the air crackled with energy. Drask’s servants shuffled foot to foot, fearing the unexpected. The devil prince's voice was loud enough now to rattle the walls, forcing some of the lesser demons to grab their heads in pain. At the crescendo of his spell, Drask slammed his fist into the summoning table. The stone cracked, releasing purple smoke and swirling dust into the air. The smoke formed runes in the air. These ghost-like words formed a glove of lines, rolling around Drask’s right hand. Drask’s hand was a glowing ball of spinning energy and power that he could hardly contain. He used his free hand to grab the man by his hair, jerking his head back. Drask drove his right hand deep into the man's skull.

The room shook with power as a bright light poured out of the man’s head. Drask shielded his eyes while trying to pull his hand away from the light, but could not. His arm pulsed and pain shot down his spine until his legs went weak. He slumped, hanging by the hand lodged in the man’s skull. All at once, the light died out and the vibrations ceased. Drask realized he had been screaming the entire time. His vision was blurred white from the extreme light as he stumbled a few steps back. The man was gone. Confused, Drask tried to sit at his desk, knees still weak. As he grabbed his chair, he realized something was wrong
―—he had no feeling in his hand. He yelled out for his servant.

"I am here, Master."

Drask rubbed his eyes as he commanded. "Tell the wizard I am ready now!"

"Yes, Master!"

As his vision started to clear, he stared at his hand. His human hand. It was small and pale compared to his own. He could not contain his smile as he felt a tingle in his head—the voice of Yusar, calling his name.

The pain behind his eyes was intense. Trying to squint through the pain and morning light, he lifted his upper half to rest on his elbows. As he blinked and tried to look around at his surroundings, he realized he couldn’t quite see. Blurry images and sounds of the forest surrounded him.

I don’t remember falling asleep
, Val thought. He flexed his fingers and crunched the dry leaves under them. His right hand felt like it was asleep. He waited for the tingle sensation to run its course, but it never came. He looked down at his hand and almost fell over in shock. Even through his blurry image he could see his hand covered in pale red blood. He held his hand out before him, blinking wildly to clear his eyes. He reached over with his other hand and touched his fingers and palm. It wasn’t wet with blood and it didn’t hurt in any way. In fact, it didn’t feel any way at all. A sharp pain raced from his wrist up into his shoulder. He fell back onto his back once again. Through gritted teeth he whispered, "Now, that I can feel." He lay back in pain and confusion as tears formed at the edge of his eyes. His headache returned again tenfold.

"What is wrong with me?" was his last thought before losing consciousness.

Val woke up again and lay very still as his mind became aware. The sun was directly above him. He sat up again with his eyes squinted, waiting on the pain to return to his head and arm. He could hear his heart beating in his ears. He flexed his fingers on his right hand and took note he had no feeling in it. His heart beat slightly faster. Val finally raised his hand and took in the sight. With his eyes clear, he looked on and realized this was not his hand.

The fingers ran longer and thicker than his own. They ended in charcoal grey fingernails, long but well-manicured. He turned the hand over to reveal a scar
—a circular pattern—on his palm. Val stood, still scrutinizing the alien object now attached to him.

Attached?
he thought.
But how?
He frantically pulled his sleeve up to his elbow. The skin around his wrist was twisted and scarred. The skin and color of his arm ended at his wrist, fading into the scars to come out as an ashen red color on the other side.
What happened to my hand?
he thought just as a movement in the forest beyond his fingers caught his eye.

He locked eyes with a goblin.

Standing five paces away, brandishing a crudely fashioned spear, the goblin eyed Val curiously. Val started edging away, a look of horror on his face. The goblin grinned stupidly and made a guttural noise, calling two more of the creatures from behind nearby trees. Val found his back pressed against a large trunk. The first goblin advanced a few steps, then took a hop and threw the spear at Val. With the weapon flying through the air, Val felt his death was upon him. He tensed his body and threw his hands before him in fear, eyes closed. At the last second, his right hand shot out and grabbed the spear just behind the head. Using the momentum of the weapon, the hand spun the spear around sending it back to its source. Val felt his arm move on its own, but kept his eyes closed, unsure of what happened.

The goblin's smile turned to an open-mouth face of terror as the spear thudded straight into its chest and laid him out on the forest floor. Val opened his eyes and saw the goblin sprawled out in the leaves.

Val had never killed another humanoid before. Even though the goblin would have taken pleasure in his death, Val still couldn’t hold back his revulsion. The remaining two goblins looked upon their dead companion, then back to the human with fear spread on their faces. They waded in closer trying to take measure of this apparently dangerous foe. Val tried to roll around the side of the trunk and flee, but found one more goblin looking past him at its dead friend on the ground. With his back exposed, one of the other two goblins rushed Val. Val’s arm shot back and jerked him sideways. The goblin aimed to plunge its knife into an exposed rib, only to find a red fist slamming into its long—and now broken—nose.

Val, hardly conscious of the action, adjusted his body and looked at the goblin before him. As the creature took a step toward him, he took one back. As he did, his hand reached back and grabbed the staggering goblin with the broken nose around the neck. The goblin dropped the knife and clawed at the hand clasped tightly around its throat. Val backpedaled, scared that he couldn’t control his hand and death was only a few steps away. Val could hear the other goblin behind him moving around to his left side. The goblin he held kicked feverishly and grabbed at his arm, coughing and gasping for air. Val looked back at his hand and saw the panic on the goblin's face. He tried to release the creature and just run, but the hand would not respond. In that moment, he felt his hand tighten and crush the goblin's windpipe. It stopped struggling and went limp in his hand. Val tried to drop the dead monster, but still his hand ignored his commands.

Seeing the opening they were waiting for, the last two goblins charged him at once. Val’s entire arm exploded with motion and flung the corpse at the charging goblin to his left. The other attacker struck out with a short sword. Val’s hand quickly came back to grab the clawed hand, stopping the creature in its tracks. With its other hand, it tried to free itself. Val’s hand squeezed all the harder, cracking the goblin's knuckles around the sword’s grip. The goblin shrieked and tried desperately to free his hand. Val's hand reversed the blade and steadily began to press the point toward the goblin. Then, unmoved by the efforts of the creature, the sword tip began to ascend to the underside of the goblin's chin. The creature, seeing its doom, began to struggle like a trapped animal. The other goblin had crawled out from underneath its companion’s body and was trying to recover its weapon. Val grabbed onto his wrist with his free hand, trying to stop the weapon's ascension. He grunted and pulled with all his strength, but the hand continued to rise.

The tip of the sword pierced the bottom of the goblin's chin slowly and steadily. His screams became a gargle, flecks of blood spitting all over Val's face. Yelling at the top of his lungs with blood and tears streaming down his face, Val turned to lock eyes with the last goblin. The creature was in mid-swing, but the intense look in Val's eyes stopped him. He dropped his spiked club and sprinted away from the clearing.

Val stopped screaming as his hand released the sword and both he and the dead goblin fell to the ground. Val sobbed, his heart still beating loudly in his ears. His shoulders slumped and head dropped. He looked at his trembling hands, both covered in blood.