Soul Catcher (14 page)

She looked away from him, still processing what just happened. Accacia hadn’t expected such affection, nor did she understand why it occurred. She was certain he held no attraction to her; he even said it. Accacia realized he was lying. She never thought Aleco had feelings for her other than friendship, if that. He seemed so angry towards her most of the time. Accacia was confused by his actions. When his lips touched hers, she just responded, knowing it was happening, but unable to do anything to stop it. She was just so relieved that Aleco was going to survive that in the heat of the moment, her emotions carried her away and she let him kiss her. Accacia didn’t understand what came over her. Accacia knew how frightened Aleco was, even if he didn’t show his distress. She pitied him because she knew he would be killed and she would live. “We’re going to get out of here, Aleco,” she whispered.

“No,” he countered. “
You
are going to get out of here.”

Accacia rose to her feet. Aleco fought against the pain of his bruised ribs and sat up, grabbing her by the hand. “Please don’t leave.  I apologize for kissing you, and I won’t do it again. I feel better when you are next to me.” Her gaze was still elsewhere, unable to look at him. Not only were the bruises and cuts on his face painful to see,
but she felt responsible for them. She had never heard him ask for any comfort and was surprised by the need in his voice. “Please?” he asked her. The desperation in his voice surprised even him. He had never been so raw with his emotions, or showed any, in fact.

Accacia watched his face for a moment and decided to honor his request. She lay down beside him, and he wrapped his arm around her waist. He was thankful she didn’t object to this gesture. Accacia stared into his broken face and noticed
the pink tint of his natural skin was replaced by a purple background. His bruises blended together to form a mask. “I’m so sorry, Aleco.”

“You did nothing wrong, Accacia,” he said. “I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

“You don’t mean that,” she said.

“I would do anything to protect you. You don’t deserve any kind of pain.”

She closed her eyes. “I’m still sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Voices of the guards echoed down the hallway and interrupted their moment. Accacia scrambled to her feet and Aleco sat up and leaned against the bars. The guildsmen were accompanied by the jailer who carried a ring of keys. The guard opened the metal door. “It’s your time to shine, Aleco,” the guard said.

Accacia’s heart burst from her chest at his words. They were going to kill him and she couldn’t stop it. It was her fault that he was there to begin with. Instead of sacrificing herself to protect him, she had gotten them both captured. Aleco would be executed and she would be returned to Drake. Aleco grabbed the bars and hoisted his broken body up, rising slowly to his feet. Accacia watched him in despair, wishing this wasn’t happening. She ran to him and wrapped her arms around him, wanting to comfort him in any way she could. He returned her embrace and kissed her on the forehead. Accacia was surprised by his gentle touch. He smiled as he held her, happy that she was in his arms. Aleco never before had feelings like the ones he sensed course through his body to his heart. He was glad he got to experience them once before he died. He let himself smell the scent of her hair and feel her body against his. He also enjoyed the sound of her tears; she was crying for him.

The guildsman was growing tired of the scene, waiting for the lovers to end their moment of goodbye. “Come on,” the guard said. “Let’s get this over with.”

Accacia cried into Aleco’s chest, and he squeezed her tightly, wanting to comfort her in her obvious despair. She looked up into his smiling face. “Don’t worry about me,” he said. He kissed her on the forehead again. Accacia noticed his smile never faltered, just as his mother’s never did in her last moments. She couldn’t believe how calm he was. He kissed her on the lips and his heart raced as he touched her mouth with his own. He
didn’t expect her to return the embrace, but he wanted to kiss her one last time. To his surprise, she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his affection, moving her lips against his own. As she pulled his face to her own, his heart enlarged and thawed from its iced block of pain. He wished he didn’t have to leave her. He finally had something to live for.

The guard was tired of the scene. “Enough of this,” he said. “Grab him!”

The men pulled Aleco away from Accacia’s grasp. She squeezed his hand until they yanked him out of the cell. Aleco kept his eyes glued to Accacia’s as they pulled him away, a slight smile on his lips. They turned the corner and he was gone.

Chamber of the Vast

18

Burning torches illuminated the dirt-paved road that led to the stone tower erected in the rear of the Vast. The tall structure was obscured in shadow except for the pinnacle, which was displayed in sunlight coming from holes in the ceiling. As they marched closer to the entrance, Aleco studied the structure. He had visited the edifice many times and been in the presence of the Chief, but never as an enemy—until now. Aleco’s arms were restricted by two men. They never eased their hold as they progressed forward. They were familiar with Aleco’s abilities.

They passed the wooden huts where guildsmen resided. The men who labored in the shops or served in the Chamber lived within the Vast, close to work. Other members lived in rooms within the tunnels inside the earth. The shop owners were never concerned that thieves would rob their stores or steal their gold because of one simple reason: thievery between Brothers was not tolerated.
Perpetrators were punished by Chasm Death, a ceremony where convicted criminals were pushed into the chasm, falling to their violent deaths in the hidden rocks below. Aleco estimated two hundred skeletons were scattered in the dark crevasse.

Men who survived the fall were stuck on the sharp stones with every bone in their body broken and shattered, unable to move. Even days after the ceremony, they could still be laying there helpless and weak, incapable of concentrating on anything but the excruciating pain. Aleco heard their faint screams as he walked across the bridge. If their necks weren’t broken or their skulls were intact, they would perish from the loss of blood or lack of water, food, and heat. If they were even less fortunate, the snakes of the chasm would squeeze their bodies until they suffocated, feeding on their carcasses. Either way, they passed from this life alone, without a single comfort, as they listened to the last thumps of their beating heart while choking on blood that
flooded their mouth. The guildsmen feared this aspect of the punishment more than the death itself.

Aleco identified the guildsmen who passed by him. When their glances met,
the men’s widened in surprise, and Aleco knew they recognized him. Aleco spotted one man in particular—Devry. As he exited the Weapons Shop, Devry gazed at a shiny battle axe in his hand and descended the creaking stairs with a smile on his face. He was playing with his new toy when he looked up and saw Aleco. He stopped in his tracks and watched the guildsmen advance Aleco, hands clasped behind his back and without his legendary sword, towards the Chamber, the residence of the Chief. Devry shook his head in disapproval.

They entered the stone doors of the Chamber. The stone beneath their boots was replaced by mahogany red marble, which blended with the orange reflection of the flames from the ignited torches.  It gave the impression that the tile below their feet was on fire. The clap of their heels resounded with every step.
The sound amplified against the tile floor and matching marble walls. The tower was silent with the exception of the occasional crack from the dancing flames of the torches and the sound of their falling feet. The silence of the building always put Aleco to sleep.

They strolled through the entryway and into the hallway. They passed dozens of honey-colored doors until they reached the end of the tunnel, where a single golden door faced them. One of the guards knocked on the heavy wood, the sound echoing through the hallway.

The Chief slid the edge of his dagger across his open palm, a habit he adopted when in thought. The point of the blade glided across his rough and calloused skin. The dancing flames from the hearth were reflected in the pristine metal, and the flames licked the dagger like a desiccated branch of firewood. He could see the fire pop in the mirrored metal. Pons informed the Chief of the recapture of Aleco the evening before, and the Chief had been pondering the situation endlessly. The Chief’s
mind was always clear when he held a weapon in his grasp.

Aleco had returned to the hideaway. The Chief instructed his guildsmen to return Aleco, but had never expected it to happen. He trained Aleco himself, and he knew how formidable he was. If that man didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be. So why did he let himself be taken?

The Chief sighed. Pons had explained the situation. Aleco was found in their woods with the woman they were contracted to find, but had no apparent intention of returning her. In fact, he defended her. His actions made no sense and the confusion was causing a headache to build behind his eyes. The Chief never extended mercy to any Brother who violated their oath, never blinked as his guildsmen were pushed over the cliff to their deaths, and never gave them comfort in their last moments—but Aleco was different. He had a personal investiture with this man. For the first time, he wanted to extend his nonexistent mercy and pardon Aleco of his crime—the desertion of his people, an unforgivable act.

But how could he? The dismissal of that crime alone was unacceptable, and now this? Aleco killed two of his men in the woods and stole the woman for his own personal gain. It was obvious Aleco was the enemy to their cause and the Chief couldn’t convince the guildsmen otherwise. The Chief sighed again—he had no choice.

Aleco had been irreplaceable within their organization. His fighting skills surpassed all others. His knowledge of horticulture was extremely useful, and his intellect was unparalleled by almost everyone. Aleco had fetched more gold, killed more men, and diverted more disasters than anyone in the guild. The Chief hated to see him go.

Pons watched the Chief slide the blade across his open palm while he was lost in thought. Silently, he stood by the door and waited for further instruction. He anticipated what those orders would be and waited for the Chief to announce Aleco’s execution. The final end to Aleco made him smile. With Aleco’s permanent annihilation, Pons would retain his rank in the guild
as the First Elite Ranger, directly under the Chief himself, a position Aleco previously held. But Pons wouldn’t stop there; one day he would get what he wanted. The tap on the door interrupted his fantasy. The Chief placed the dagger on his desk and nodded to Pons. He opened the door and let them enter.

The guards shoved Aleco through the entryway and marched him into the colossal room. “Release him,” Pons instructed the men. They dropped their grips and disappeared into the hallway. Pons beckoned Aleco to move deeper into the room. With his hands still bound behind his back, he entered the heart of the chamber and stopped before a chestnut-colored desk. Pons shoved him forward.

The room was identical to the rest of the tower. A massive fire stood to his right, rising skyward at his entrance as the air from the open doorway fed the hostility of the flames. It mirrored Aleco’s own mood. He wanted to finish this as quickly as possible. He stared at the Chief, who matched his gaze with equal intensity, but said nothing. Aleco could feel the disappointment in his heated look.

The Chief rose and walked to the front of his desk. He leaned against the wood with his arms crossed over his wide chest. Thick pricks of gray stubble covered his wrinkled mouth and long chin, matching the mature color of his fringe. His moustache was timeless and still produced the black hair he saw in his youth. Even with a hunched frame, his height surpassed Aleco’s height of six feet. Silently, he appraised Aleco with pitch black eyes, a very unusual color for any human. He was exactly the way Aleco remembered him, quiet and brooding with the ability to snap instantly. The Chief was known for his blank countenance, his mind could never be read with such a look of indifference. Aleco waited for him to speak. It was custom within their society to only speak to the Chief if he addressed you first and you could only refer to him by his title. A stupid tradition to Aleco. Most guildsmen had no knowledge of his true name.

“Cut his bonds,” the Chief directed Pons without looking at him. His eyes remained glued to Aleco’s. Pons hesitated for a moment before he cut the rope. “Go ahead,” he said, squeezing the hilt of his blade. “He’ll be dead before he can blink.”

Aleco’s released hands fell to his sides and he nodded in gratitude. Aleco had no intention of attacking the Chief, an opponent he knew he couldn’t overpower. The man’s voice struck Aleco with familiarity; the baritone sound resonated as a recognized song. It was the voice of an old friend. “You know why you are here, Aleco.” He withdrew the midnight blue blade from the scabbard. The stones shined in the hilt of the sword and reflected the light of the blazing fire. It was a hypnotic picture.

Aleco’s eyes glanced at the elegant blade, unique in its color.  “Yes, and let me shorten this visit. My punishment will be execution by the Death Chasm,” he said. “
This, I already know.”

The Chief stared at him and sheathed his blade. He realized intimidation was useless with this man. The Chief knew Aleco was injured under his cloak. He could tell by the droop of his shoulders and his haggard breathing. The Chief looked at Pons, knowing he was responsible for the beating.

“Now let me go,” Aleco said. He had only a few hours of life left and he didn’t want to spend them there.

“All men fear their inevitable deaths,” the Chief said as he circled him. The tap of his heavy boots echoed in the room. “You are no different, Aleco. I do admire your unflinching bravery, however, or at least this façade.”

Aleco waited to be dismissed. He had nothing more to say to this man, no defense and no arguments. He already accepted his fate. The loud crack of the flames disturbed the silence. The Chief continued to circle him. His body turned into a silhouette as he passed the hearth and the light of the blaze outlined him in shadow. The Chief walked in silence, waiting for Aleco to speak.

“I deserve to die,” Aleco said.

“Is this remorse for what you did to us?” the Chief asked with interest.

“Hardly,” he said. “It is remorse for what I did
for
you.”

The Chief recognized the acceptance in Aleco’s expression, a look of acknowledgment of his own inevitable death. That was a feeling the Chief could never fathom because he loved living far too much. The flinch of Aleco’s hands and the tension in his shoulders told the Chief what he was feeling—that he wanted this to end.

“Let’s cut to the point,” the Chief said. “Give me what I want, and I’ll give you what you want.”

Aleco eyed him suspiciously. “Which is?”

“I want answers.”

“To what?” he asked.

The Chief stopped directly before him. He rubbed his chin with his fingertips as he organized his thoughts. “You betrayed your oath to the guild—”

Aleco rolled his eyes. How many times was he going to hear this?

“A crime you knew would kill you eventually,” he said. “You abandoned your Brothers and chose a life of exile.”

Aleco sighed in annoyance. He left the guild years ago; it was time to move on.

“Tell me why, Aleco.” Aleco remained silent, and the Chief continued. “The guild sheltered you, protected you, and made you into the fearsome warrior you have become. After all I’ve done, you still turn your back in disrespect,” he said. “I want to know why.”

When Aleco asked the Chief to assist him in his mission to assassinate the duke, his formidable brother, and aid in his vengeance, the Chief denied his request but never explained why. The Chief, although arrogant, possessed a keen intelligence. Aleco knew he could answer his own questions; however, he wanted Aleco to admit it. “You know why,” he spat. “I told you what my sole purpose was.”

The Chief nodded. He knew of Aleco’s attempts to thwart his brother, including his last effort when he entered the keep and was almost killed with a mortal stab to the chest. The Chief had no idea how he escaped that one. “And how did that work out?” Aleco looked away, ashamed of his failure and the Chief’s knowledge of it. “A mission I knew was doomed to fail from the beginning.” He sighed. “I refused to aid your vendetta because I knew how futile it was. I never knew how personally you would take that rejection.”

Aleco felt the adrenaline course through his limbs. He wished he still possessed his three-bladed throwing dagger. He imagined the hilt protruding from the Chief’s throat, a thin slit in the skin that released a waterfall of blood. He had trusted this man enough to reveal his true identity and his ultimate goal. The Chief promised that Aleco had the entire support of both himself and the Guild at his disposal, and it was just a matter of finding the time to strike. Aleco waited for the day to come, but it never did.

“Aleco, you came to the guild with one purpose—to become a killer,” he said. “I knew this from the moment we met. Of every apprentice I’ve ever had, you were the most gifted because you wanted it, needed it, more than anyone else.” He grabbed Aleco by the shoulder and shook him slightly. “But, I knew when the moment came to stab him through the heart, your anger would falter, and you would lose the will.” He released his hold. “Face it. You’re soft, Aleco.”

Aleco said nothing. The words he wanted to say would warrant his execution on the spot. He wanted to see Accacia once more so he kept his mouth shut and forced back the explosion of threats. Aleco knew the real reason the Chief had refused his request was because the duke was a substantial reservoir of gold. Who knows how accommodating his successor would be to their cause? The duke relied on the guild for their aid in information, slavery transports, and even assassinations of others rulers of the Continent, making him a valuable client to the Chief. Instead of fulfilling his promise to Aleco, he chose to betray him and protect the duke from his vengeance. The Chief was no Brother to Aleco.