Sleepless (Curse of the Blood Fox Trilogy, Book #1) (14 page)

“Anything can
come with time,” I said, making lazy circles on my pants legs with my thumbs.
“I have not always been so calm... just as you, I presume.”

“What hurt
you?” he asked, and I blinked. His words reminded me of the head monk I had
trained under at the Restful monastery. A plump, jolly old man, that one, and
every morning for the thirty years I was his student his gentle voice, getting
feebler and softer with time, would wake me from the Dream:
Have you found
the pain yet? Have you mastered it?

“Many
things,” I said, shifting away. I was finding it hard to be direct with him; he
knew so little compared to the life I had led. I didn't want my existence to be
exposed and then pitied by someone I barely knew.

“You are not
so good at answering questions,” he said, a playful glimmer in his eyes.  I
heard him move, and suddenly his large hand was on my shoulder. “That's
alright, they are difficult. Something tells me those answers are important,
though. It's the strangest thing, because I don't know who you are or where you're
heading, but I feel like I could follow you anywhere. I feel like you might
need me to. Could you see us becoming partners like that, Fox?”

I was quiet,
savoring the warm air and the weight of his hand on my shoulder as I mused.
Where
was
I going? To meet Traken's strange lord, but more than that...
to find answers. Ro did not hold the answers I needed, but he was kind and
warm, and it was more likely than not that his help could make the difference
in the ending of my journey. There was an ominous black cloud with teeth in my
future, and though I wasn't so afraid of death, I was afraid of dying without
knowing.

Traken kept
appearing in my thoughts. He was not kind or predictable, and he didn't
particularly care for others, but he
understood
things. He knew what I
meant when I spoke, even if he didn't agree. Our moral compasses were
distinctly opposite from one another, but that didn't take us off the same
coin. He was a different species compared to Ro, though, and one thing was for
certain: they would not go together. I had to put stock in either one or the
other.

“You are
quiet,” Ro commented, the gentle rumble of his voice entering my thoughts.
“Have I disturbed you?”

“No,” I said,
letting a smile touch me. “Anyone would be lucky to have a partner such as you
at their side, Ro... but I don't think you need me. Under other circumstances I
may have accepted such a crazy offer just to see what it led to, but I already
know where my path is going, as good as anyone can, and I have chosen it
myself. You need to make your own, not get dragged into mine.”

“It would not
be dragging,” he said. “Everyone needs someone on their side.”

“I am not
alone,” I assured him. “I already have something like that.”

“Him?” Ro
asked, nodding his head forward. I had been about to say my swords, but I
looked where Ro was staring to see Traken bearing towards us over the dusty
cobblestones with a thrilling intensity in his golden-brown eyes. His amulets
gleamed in the bright sun, and his hair stood on-end with the power he had concentrated
around himself like a suit of armor. It was not fear or excitement that swelled
my chest at the sight of him, but a strange sort of peace. The stress that held
my shoulders tight disappeared, and fixed my decision solidly in place.

“Is he your
partner?” Ro repeated as Traken got within hearing range, beautiful waves of
energy crackling off him in his ferocity and tickling at my senses. I wanted to
imagine that Traken had only heard the last part of the conversation, but he
had probably been listening to Ro's mind all along.

“Some
relationships are difficult to describe,” I said noncommittally, standing and
brushing off the back of my robe. I sent Ro a polite bow as he stood as well.
“Thank you for your kind words, though. They mean a lot.”

“I am disappointed,”
Ro admitted, his arms folded across his chest. “I had almost thought my whole
life was about to change with this one chance meeting.” Deep green eyes shone
under long lashes. “Will you not reconsider? I would expect nothing from you at
all.”

“This
conversation ends now,” Traken said, arriving at my shoulder. I held my hand up
in front of him, glaring through a slitted corner of my eye.

“Stop,
Traken,” I barked, and the energy around him immediately vanished. I was
disconcerted by the sudden compliance, but covered it up quickly by turning
back to Ro. "I'm sorry. It was a good offer, but I have made my decision.”

His chin
fell, but he nodded and sent me a bow in return. His dark eyes found Traken
before he turned to leave, eying him as if he might be something distasteful.

“I hope you
deserve such praise,” Ro told him. “There is something in your eyes that does
not seem wholesome.” Then the large man turned and made his escape as if he
couldn't stand the thought of being there any longer. The sight of his
retreating back pained me, but only because I had hurt him after all and I knew
that wasn't an easy pain to heal.

As I turned,
I was faced with the dark, furious eyes of the sorcerer who I had chosen. I
felt myself laugh then, inside and out, at the ludicrousness of such a
decision.

“You know how
to make a terribly impressive entrance,” I told him, grinning. “What was all
that about?”

“You left,”
he said through gritted teeth, following me as I began to walk. “I came back to
find a ridiculously large basket of flowers at the door and no one in sight.”

“I would have
waited for you... somewhere,” I said. “You have to admit you were taking an
incredibly long time.”

“I was given
a message that I had to pay my master a visit immediately. Another source must
have given him deeper insight into the attack from the Falcons and the Le Fam.
Apparently he did not like the fact that I had let it get so far.”

“Oh, did you
get in trouble?” I couldn't imagine Traken being chastised like a little child.

“Smile if you
will, but his punishments are unpleasant, to say the least,” he said with a
grimace. I remembered the swirling scars on his body and sobered. “It is good
we are about to head into territory the Le Fam won't follow. As if it all
weren't annoying enough, I had to listen to that man's mind again to find you.”

“I
apologize,” I said, though I couldn't understand how Ro's mind could truly be
all that terrible. “You did not have to try to chase him away with a spell,
though. He wasn't dangerous.”

“His obsessiveness
could have endangered my mission. And have I told you before that it is not
natural to be able to feel magic the way you do?”

“Many times
over many years,” I said. Traken was not having it.

“You are
oddly congenial at the moment. Has that ape's words gotten to your head?”

“What an
accusation,” I said, fanning one hand at him in a “shoo” motion. “Are you
worried that I will try to run away with him?”

“If you did,
I would have to chase you both down and kill him,” Traken said. I cuffed his
shoulder roughly.

“You would
have to do no such thing. You dislike him, most likely unfairly.”

“Unfairly? I
heard what was in his mind. He considers me an unsavory influence and a
degenerate. As if he has the right to think anything of me at all.”

“Let’s be
honest, though,” I said, tapping my chin, “he isn't exactly wrong.” My
sorcerer’s lips fell into a deeper scowl, and I chuckled. “Will you hear a
story from me, Traken? It may help ease your mind.”

“I am always
willing to hear a story,” he said, and I knew he was. He needed to know things;
it was his air. He hoarded it like I hoarded my fantasies of revenge, and that
worked out well because I had things I needed to tell. Now that I had decided
to trust someone, it felt like so many words were straining to break through.

“You do not
know much about me before I studied under the monks. We met at the end of my
years there, and I imagine I have been much the same ever since. Before that
though... well, I told you earlier, things were different.”

“Yes, you
slept on leaves instead of a bed,” Traken said, an avid grin crossing his face.
“Is this a story about you eating cockroaches for dinner?”

“Maybe
another time. This story is after the fact, two years after the war broke out.
I was coming to my senses, or perhaps just tired of being alone, and a man
named Valin took me in and reintroduced me into civilization. I did not know
much about him, save that he was gentle and patient even though I was
half-crazed. He gave me clothing, shelter, and food, and I grew a puppy-like devotion
to him.”

“This is not
going where I had expected,” Traken said, voice going low. “You are telling me
a love story.”

“Yes,” I
said, “but there is a point to it. I grew more than infatuated with this man.
He treated me like a patient, at first, and then more. For almost an entire
year I stayed with him in a cabin, playing his pet and meeting his friends as
he helped me regain my strength and sanity.” Traken's eyes were digging into
the side of my face, but I avoided his gaze so I wouldn't lose the nerve to
continue. “Everything wasn't how I thought it was, though. The war was raging,
reaching a peak, and Valin and his 'friends' had an investment in it, though I
am still not sure what. They were all mind-mages, creatures I knew very little
about at the time. I was not the Blood Fox then, and had been wild for so long
that I didn’t recognize hidden motives, or contemplate why total strangers
would help me. While I lived blissfully unaware under the same roof, they spent
that year practicing control on my mind. Everything I thought or did during
that time is still under question; I can't even say if what I felt for Valin
was implanted in my mind or not. All I know is that one day I woke up from the
Dream and I was in the middle of a battlefield instead of the bed I had spent
the last year in. People were screaming and dying all around me, and I couldn't
stop killing them. I had no control.”

“Full mind
penetration,” Traken said, his voice a low whisper of awe. I nodded, then
gathered my resolve and looked him straight in the eye.

“I know you
won't like learning this of me, Traken. I believe you are almost proud that I
have killed so many, but I have never honestly wanted to. Even in my worst,
rage-filled years, I have only ever hunted those who do harm, and only fought
those who fought me. Oh, I scared people. I terrorized many, and worked under
lords I shouldn't have just so I could get better and stronger. I had already
spilled a lot of blood, but what happened that day traumatized me. My body
would not act as my own.”

“But you were
not hurt,” Traken said, ringed fingers rubbing against his neck. I bowed my
head a little.

“There was
pain in every breath. I had the blood and tears of hundreds on me, and the
thoughtcraft would not let me stop until I couldn't move my swords anymore.
Then I fell to the ground and stayed there for three days, still unable to
move, slipping in and out of the Dream, dying over and over while surrounded by
the rotting corpses of the people I had slain. Those mind-mages awakened every
feeling in me that I had buried, taunted them out onto the surface with their
spells, and then desecrated them. If not for Valentina and Phernado pumping
vengeance through me, I would have chosen to die during that time. The Restful
Monks found me there as they were searching the battlefield for survivors, and
they are the only reason I am alive now.”

“And Valin?”
Traken asked. “Did you skewer his sorry carcass?”

My lips
twitched. “I did not. I never found him. I believe he and the others probably
left the country as soon as they set me loose. Only the gods know what their
purpose was.”

“Shame,” he
said, brow furrowed. There was an opaqueness to his eyes. “Why did you tell me
this?”

“To let you
know that I am wiser for it. I pick carefully who I allow close, and I do not
run off with little boys on a whim. Was it a disappointing story?”

“Disappointing
is not the word.”

“What is?”

“Enraging.”
His eyes flashed. “You should have hunted them down.”

“By the time
the monks were done with me, I had no way of finding him. I'm not even sure if
Valin was his real name.” The Marlduk Inn was now far behind us, and we were
nearing the edge of the rousing town. “I am surprised at you, though. I
supposed that your reaction would be something between condescension or
disinterest.” I nudged him playfully. “Could it be you're getting a soft spot
for me?”

Traken raised
his eyebrows. “That would be dangerous.”

“For whom?” I
asked just as slyly. We reached the grand arch that marked the entrance of the
town and stopped. Traken's lips quirked.

“If you have
all this excess energy to provoke me, you must be ready to ride.”

He was
pointing at his pair of monstrosities which were waiting, untethered, by the
gate. I scowled.

“I take it
all back, you're a demon.”

Traken
clicked his tongue amiably, and I mounted the treacherous silver-haired thing
with a dramatic display of unwillingness; the soreness in my thighs returned
the moment my rear hit the saddle. I glanced back just once more at the town we
were leaving behind as he spurred the horses forward. It was a sleeping beast
at the moment, Gronmid; pretty and silent under the sun, but I didn't doubt
that by tonight the town would be alive again with music and sound, with a tiny
girl who thought herself a tailor and a swordsman dancing among drums with a
heavy heart.