Scorched Fury: A SkinWalker Novel #5 (DarkWorld: SkinWalker) (24 page)

BOOK: Scorched Fury: A SkinWalker Novel #5 (DarkWorld: SkinWalker)
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Logan had not lied when he said that the mountains were black. They looked like they were made of smoky crystal, which glistened pink in the sunshine. Despite the strange beauty, it was so sharp that I kept grazing my hands when I looked for handholds or tried to steady myself.

The ledge narrowed further, now only two feet wide. Below me, another shallow outcropping beckoned, this one wide enough to stand on. I sighed, accepting that I had little choice but to use my panther from here on out.

Thankfully my rucksack was special. Made in such a way that I could carry it on my back while in panther form. After placing my satchel inside the rucksack, I removed my clothes, wondering when a fabric would be invented that would mould to the skin of a walker in human form, and adjust naturally to the body of the panther after shifting into the animal.

I shook my head, annoyed and amused at myself. Right now, I had to work with what I had available to me. Unbuttoning my jeans, I slid them down my legs, and tried not to be amused at the sight of my pale thighs.

A clear bandage still covered the wound there, but thankfully it had healed enough that I barely felt a twinge, even in this cool mountain air.

Everything went into the rucksack, which had two more additional straps that I buckled as tightly as possible around my waist. All the straps were elasticated, and held so tightly that I would have been afraid of stopping my circulation if I was going to remain in human form. But the straps were made to be comfortable on a panther.

As the wind blew in, icy and cold, and as the red sun began to sink lower on the horizon, I shifted from human form into a panther. Ears lifted, lengthened, fur covered the skin. The bones in my face shifted, mouth forward, jaw narrowing, eyes growing deeper and wider, teeth becoming sharper and more dangerous. My limbs filled with fire and my muscles felt like liquid, forming again into the slim and elegant legs of the Cat.

In feline form, I shook myself, allowing the muscles, sinew, and bones to settle around me. The rucksack straps loosened, and were now much more comfortable. I moved to the edge, aimed at the ledge below, and sprang. Landing softly, I scanned the outcropping. Below me to the left was another ledge wide enough to support my panther. And I jumped.

On and on I went, until I reached the bottom of the canyon, a few yards from the Blood River.

The map had said to follow the river, which snaked out in the opposite direction of the sunrise. Here, in Dracys, the sun set in the East, which felt odd until I got my bearings.

Judging from the distances on the map, I knew the trip to the city would take at least four hours in panther form.

The river continued east, staying at the base of the rocky mountain range, and narrowed at one point where it sank underground leaving me with no choice but to climb the mountainside again.

The wind began to let up, the cold no longer biting, and at least there was no snow. Hours later the height of the mountain range began to decline, and at last I stood on a rocky outcropping, studying a flat plain that reached out for almost five miles before it ended at the walls of the great city.

Even from this distance the walls and the guardian statues were imposingly tall.

I'd walked all night, and lost track of time. Also, because I suspected that the sun rose earlier in this part of the universe than it did back home. The sun was behind me now, still the same red threatening and ominous, but this time it was much higher in the sky.

And where last night the sky was a blend of grays and red, this morning it was every shade of red imaginable. Blood red streaked the sky, blending with the pale pink and a dusky rose. If I stopped to enjoy it, I would have to admit that it was an incredible sight. So far this land was impressing me greatly with its beauty.

I couldn't go any further in panther form in case I was seen from the battlements or from the palace that sat high on the mountain. I transformed, and changed, then set out at a brisk pace.

The road, which ran beside the river, was compacted dirt more than anything. Wheel-tracks marked the soil in deep gouges. And little puddles of red gleamed.

Red water, red rain. Of course.

I'd seen the statues from afar and they only looked more imposing up close. They guarded the entrance of the city, a pair of sentinels that were both frightening and majestic.

They towered above me, wing-tips reaching at least three hundred feet into the air. They'd carved the form of a woman, slim waist, impressive bust. From the back of her shoulders, a pair of wings grew, spreading above her in height equal to her own. Her face was regal, nose patrician, lips full. She looked human, except for the scaly skin.

The twin to this gigantic statue stood on the other side of the entrance, two female dragons warning travelers to beware. It was enough to frighten the most sturdy-hearted man, the artist having captured a terrifying expression in the faces of the pair.

Guarding the city were walls at least a hundred feet high, and ten feet wide, with battlements on the outer edge to guard the city. Though the creation of such a majestic wall would be easy enough for a battalion of flying creatures, it was still an amazing sight.

Back home the Great Wall of China could not compare.

The gates to the city of Dyr was guarded by a pair of soldiers, they wore armor that resembled the scales of a dragon, their bodies moulded in a skin-tight sheath, as red as the bloody sun. Swords at their waists, and daggers at their thighs, they looked like any human soldier, but I had no doubt that they were capable of unfurling great and powerful wings.

Their faces were hidden by masks that were made in the form of a dragon's head. Narrow slits in the eyes allowed the soldiers to watch me. The taller of the two took a step forward, a movement designed to be threatening.
 

I wasn't intimidated.

I've been up against worse. Although, if he did decide to go all scales and teeth on me, I would probably turn and run.

"What business do you have in the city," he asked, his voice loud and ringing in my ears.

Talk about border control.

"I am an emissary for the Elders of the Supreme High Council, and I come in peace." I spoke loudly too. Letting him know I'm not quivering in my boots.

It wasn't as if we had an audience, as behind me the road was empty. But I also had to remind myself to be nice to the man. He could easily not allow me entry into the city.

I handed him the sheet of paper that Horner had given me, and prayed that it would be enough. The soldier stared at the writing, his dark eyes hidden by the shadows of his mask.

CHAPTER 34

F
ROM
THE
EXPRESSION
THAT
I
COULD
make out through the slit in his helmet, the soldier looked undecided. He pointed at his partner and said, "Take the emissary to the guardhouse. I'll notify the general."

The second guard nodded and waved me over. As I followed, I watched the first guard stare up at the top of the wall, and wave, making an oddly familiar circular motion.

A loud rumble echoed within the wall, and the gigantic doors began to open. It was obvious that heavy machinery would be required to move them.

I followed the second guard to a small building just inside the wall. I remained polite and didn't make a fuss. The guard did not inspect my bags, nor did he examine me for weapons. So the emissary of the Elders did enjoy a diplomatic immunity of sorts.
 

Once inside the office, he waved me to a seat by the window and returned to his post. He didn't seem worried about security either, leaving me without a guard.
 

I could be a Trojan horse assassin for all they knew.

Not much good being Trojan or otherwise when you could end up barbecued alive.

The room was spartan, stone walls and floor, and not much else except for my roughly-hewn chair. I was beginning to get bored when the first guard returned, filling the doorway and blocking the light.

I grabbed my bags and got to my feet, then faced him, wondering if he would have the decency to remove his helmet. As I stared, waiting for the general's answer, he fidgeted as if disliking the scrutiny.

Instead of removing the helmet, he said, "The general will receive you in his quarters. His page will take you to him." He glanced at a figure, standing outside the door just beyond my line of vision.

Outside I came face-to-face with a portly young man. With his flushed cheeks, he looked like a cherub.

He gave a small bow and said, "If you will come with me please the general will see you now." Then, unsmiling, he turned and began to waddle off without a backward glance.

I hurried after him, taking in the details of the city as I went. Slate-paved roads, walls made of gleaming obsidian stone. None of the streets here were parallel, or even straight. Everything curved, snaking this way and that. A slight incline lay ahead and when I looked up, the castle commanded my attention.

The page stopped so suddenly that I almost walked right into him. Thankfully, I sidestepped at the last minute. He waved at a small building; a house made of black obsidian instead of simple stone.

Double doors guarded the interior, and the page knocked before entering. Inside, the room was spartan again, everything from shelves to tables to chairs merely serving its purpose, as opposed to providing any sort of decorative purpose. Only a single set of armor stood in the corner, black as night.

A large table occupied most of the left side of the room, and seated behind it was an old man, so thin and feeble that it looked like his armor was about to swallow him whole.

I was surprised the new queen hadn't seen fit to appoint a man who would instill fear in his men, rather than one who broadcasted his weakness the first time a person set eyes on him. Maybe I was wrong, and maybe he was a strong man, hiding behind a sheepish facade. For the sake of the city, I hoped the latter was true.

The general rubbed his chin, and stared at the piece of paper on his desk. The official verification letter from the Elders seemed to trouble him.

"Is there a problem?" I asked, ensuring that I kept any impatience out of my voice. Seems I had the hidden talent of a diplomat.

He gave a small shake of his head then looked up at me. His eyes shifted left and right, and I wondered if he had a problem meeting my gaze. It occurred to me in that moment that perhaps the Dragons were an old-fashioned race, one that subjugated their woman. From the way he avoided looking at me, I assumed he felt I had no right to gain the position of the emissary of the Elite.

I straightened my spine and ignored the look, focusing on the job at hand. When he still didn't answer, I said, "I would like to see the Queen. If I may. The Elders wish me to convey their good wishes, and there is a lot to be discussed. Is there any reason why you wish to delay me?"

The general shook his head. "I fear you are mistaken. I do not wish you to be delayed. I have sent word to Her Majesty, and I am awaiting her response."

Just as he exhaled, another page rushed into the room with a small envelope. The general ripped it open and got to his feet. He gave me a short bow. "Please come with me."

I hitched my bags back onto my shoulders and followed him. He led me outside and up the hill, and I noticed the weather had warmed a little. Twenty minutes later, most of which comprised of walking up a slight incline along serpentine roads that led up the side of the mountain, we arrived at the palace gates.

The view from here was breathtaking. One could see across the planes, all the way to the nearest end of the Black Mountains. The rustling of the guard's armor brought my attention back to the iron gates, constructed with metal shaped into scales and layered to look like dragonskin, and to the palace beyond. Up close the building was incredible. Midnight towers rose above us, black obsidian glass and obsidian moulded together to create something out of a fairytale, complete with towers and turrets and parapets.

At every corner, I was further impressed at the beauty of this realm. It was such a pity that so few people knew it existed, and even fewer people had the opportunity to visit here.

Travel across the planes was not common.

But if we were able to police the travelers, perhaps visiting other planes would become commonplace. It would certainly boost the economies of many planes. It worked in the Earth World, and I didn't see why it couldn't do the same for worlds across the Veil.

The great doors opened with a similar mechanical creaking as the doors to the city, and the general waved me into a large entry hall. The black and white marble tiles shimmered in the yellow light cast by dozens of torches dotting the walls.

The hall was straight out of an old English castle, complete with rich wall-hangings and tapestries, hand-carved furniture that looked like it belonged in an antique shop, all heavy hardwood legs.

The general strode up the stairs without a word, leaving me to pace. Not that pacing in such a room could be deemed a mediocre task.

BOOK: Scorched Fury: A SkinWalker Novel #5 (DarkWorld: SkinWalker)
2.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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