The Black Tower (2 page)

The Razorcats are playing with them. 

The predators jumped close and circled about.  They cut the Bloodspeaker off just before he reached his companion.  Claws raked at him and sent him to the ground.  Four of the creatures surrounded the woman, and their spined tails lashed at her body as they slowly closed in.  She fumbled for her battle stave but it was well out of reach.

Damn it.

Kruje let Kar-Kalled take him.  He breathed in deep and let the rage burn through the walls of his soul. 

Without another thought the Voss ran forward with a furious war cry.  The stone left his hands and struck the Razorcat closest to the woman, smashing its skull and dropping its body to the ground.  Kruje charged the three remaining beasts.  They turned as he approached and tore at him with impossible speed.  His fists shattered teeth as claws raked his arms and torso, the cuts so sharp he didn’t even feel them.

A blast of white ice tore out of the darkness and engulfed two of the Razorcats in a wave of numbing frost.  Their bodies turned brittle and sank, slowly cracking apart.  Kruje grabbed another Razorcat by its massive jaws as it tried to clamp its teeth down around his face.  Muscles tensed to the point of breaking and fingers throbbing with pain, he held the mouth wide and stared into a maw filled with dagger teeth and a lashing red tongue.  Claws tore into his stomach. 

He kept his focus, locked his shoulders tight.  The beast thrashed and tried to pull away, and just as the razor tail moved to wrap around his throat Kruje howled and ripped the jaws open.  Blood soaked him as ruined bone fell from his hands, and the beast sank to the ground.

More of them came from out of the darkness, a wave of moon-colored fangs and burning eyes. 

A blast of fire took the approaching beasts.  Kruje fell back and shielded his eyes.  The roars of the Razorcats turned to pitiful mewling as the air filled with the stink of burning skin. 

Kruje’s body was raw with cuts, and as Kar-Kalled faded the pain of the battle rushed in at him, along with an icy sense of fear.  Heat rolled over him like a burning cloak.  Kruje pulled his arms over his head as the flames drew close.

And then, just as suddenly as they’d come, the flames were gone.  Silence blanketed the city. 

Kruje opened his eyes and found himself blinded by thick clouds of body smoke and heat haze.  He slowly pulled himself to his feet, thankful his injuries were healing and that the blood had stopped draining from his wounds.  His fingers were brittle with pain.  He stood still there in the smoke, breathed deep and waited for something to happen.

The fumes slowly cleared, and he found himself face to face with the two Bloodspeakers.  They were both bruised and bloodied but still alive, and they regarded him with the same sense of fear and revulsion he was accustomed to receiving from humans.

“
You’re welcome
,” he said in a near growl, and to his great surprise the woman answered in his own tongue.

“
We would have said ‘Thank you’, given the chance,”
she snapped.
 
She regarded him with a wry, almost sarcastic expression.  “
It’s not every day you see a Voss, especially above ground.  I was surprised you came to our aid.  Your kind isn’t exactly renowned for your love of humans.”

Kruje smiled.  Her Voss was excellent, worlds better than Dane’s.  Her accent was thick but the cadence was nearly perfect, doubtlessly aided in some fashion by the Veil. 

“
You speak my language
,” he said.  “
That’s...rare.
”

“
I’m a student of history
,” she said.  “
What are you doing here?”

Kruje shrugged.  Amiable or not, he didn’t owe them any explanations, especially when he’d just risked his life for them.

“
It’s a long story,
” he said. 
“Helping a friend.  A friend I have to kill.” 

He shook his head.  He didn’t know that, not really, in spite of all of the signs.  He rubbed his eyes.  His body was repairing itself, but he was exhausted all over.  The sky darkened as dusk approached, and the clouds grew thick.  He’d have to take cover to avoid the sorcerous storms blowing in, which were famous for slaying all who fell in their shadow. 

“
We were separated,”
he said. 
“I have to find him.” 
He watched the Bloodspeakers carefully. 
“If you’re with Chairos and his red-robed idiots, you might as well just kill me now.  I’ll not enjoy his hospitality again.”

The woman smiled, and spoke to her companion in their native tongue.  A quiet argument ensued as they doubtlessly discussed Kruje’s fate.  He surprised them both by walking back to the ruined church and sitting down against the wall, his arms crossed as he looked around for something else he could use as a weapon.  They kept talking.  The air beyond the clearing remained quiet and still, and the night sky grew dark and chill.  Kruje rubbed his hands together.

After what felt like an eternity the male Bloodspeaker finally threw his arms up in exasperation and walked away.  The woman watched him go with a sour expression, then turned back to Kruje.

“
Do you need help?”
she asked.  Kruje marveled at her mastery of his language.  The more he thought about it the less he could imagine a Bloodspeaker, even a reckless one, expending so much of their precious life energy just to translate a conversation, which meant her command of the Vossian tongue was truly as astounding as it seemed. 

He watched her, hesitant.  He’d already gotten too deeply involved with one human, and now he owed that man his life in spite of what he feared he’d have to do to him.

The J’ann don’t bestow many opportunities
, he reminded himself. 
Best not to turn them down.

“Yes,”
he said.  “
My name is Kruje, former heir to the Third Iron Crown of Meledrakkar.”

“Impressive,”
the woman said with that same wry smile.  She was attractive, at least for a human, with pale skin and expressive green eyes.  Her shock of blonde hair was short and wild, and the leathers beneath her cloak had seen better days.  The knives on her belt seemed more suited to a hunter or a rogue than a mage.  “
I’m Thaenn Sharpe, heir to nothing, and my grumbling companion is called Methander Vacros.  He’s heir to even less.  Do you know of the Red Hand?” 
Kruje nodded.  Dane had mentioned them during their travels up the river, on those rare occasions when Kruje wasn’t hidden away and out of sight.  “
Good
,” she said.  “
Then you should know we’re no allies of the Phage...we’re not really allies with anyone, come to think about it...”

“Then maybe you’ll ally yourselves with me,”
Kruje said.  Thaenn smiled approvingly, even if her widening eyes betrayed her surprise. 

Methander called from the shadows, and after a moment Thaenn answered, then turned back to Kruje.

“
We need to get out of sight,”
she said.
  “Phage soldiers are heading this way.”

The three of them raced through the blasted streets, carefully circumventing wide open spaces like the city square.  They passed craters, crumbled stone walls and fallen statues, moved through shadows and thick clouds of red-black mist as the night continued to cool and the sky darkened.  The moon was huge and green, but even the pale glare seemed incapable of piercing the gloom. 

They eventually came to a low building missing one of its short walls; the black roof was partially caved in, and all of the windows and doors looked to have been blasted away.  Kruje’s body was layered in sweat, and he was more fatigued than he’d thought.  It had been hours since he’d stopped moving and running and doing everything he could to keep out of sight, and the amount of effort required to stay hidden had proved exhausting.  His limbs were stiff and his back was sore, and though he’d managed to find a large spear he still felt largely defenseless. 

The sounds of combat slowly bled back into the air.  Kruje, Thaenn and Methander spied more of Chairos’ red-cloaked Phage soldiers in the central city square, doing battle with the mercenaries who until recently had controlled the city. 

They hid in a shattered building.  The furniture inside had been blasted away and the mortared walls were falling apart.  Thick drifts of red dust piled high like bloody snow.  Skeletal remains jutted from the sand, and discarded weapons and fresh bodies were everywhere.

Thaenn led Kruje as deep into the building as he could get and then asked him to sit and rest.  He tried not to make it too obvious just how relieved he was to do so.  Every inch of his body hurt, and despite the adrenaline Kruje wanted to collapse and sleep for a month, but he knew he’d get no sleep just yet.  He coughed, and tried to keep his eyes open.  He still didn’t entirely trust his Red Hand companions, or any humans for that matter, all save one.

The one I’d planned to betray.  If only he weren’t the Dawnslayer.  I must have truly angered the J’ann in some prior incarnation for them to keep heaping these piles of shit on me like this. 

Methander stood watch near the opening, a shadow against the blood-black sky.  He seemed young even for a human, with his unshaven face and wild eyes, and he carried himself like a soldier.  One hand remained on the hilt of his shoulder-slung longsword while the other remained free so he could to draw on his Veil energies, and he watched Kruje with a wary eye.

Such is your right,
Kruje thought. 
My kind were responsible for all of this devastation.  All of these bones were left here by us, and we barely had to lift a finger. 
There were times when Kruje truly hated being a Voss.

Thaenn pulled her hood back and sat down opposite Kruje in the wide and vacant room, her features largely shaded from sight.

“So
,” she said, still speaking Voss, “
what did you mean earlier about forming an alliance with us?  Do you need help finding your friend?”

Methander barked something under his breath without looking at Thaenn.  Kruje’s command of the human tongue was horrible, but he’d picked up a few words, as it happened he understood the phrase “Don’t talk to that thing” perfectly well. 

Though his instincts told him he was being foolish, Kruje needed all the help he could get, so he told Thaenn his tale, starting with being sold to Maddox and ending with his and Dane’s capture at the hands of Mazrek Chairos.  He explained everything he knew of the Skullborn, those children of the Blood Queen destined to bring her back to life in an effort to destroy the Unmaker...that part came as something of a shock to the young woman, but she nodded for him to continue even though she was obviously skeptical. 

He left out his suspicions about who Dane was, and what Kruje would have to do if he was right.  That darkness he kept to himself.

In the end Kruje got the sense that she believed him, which was a relief.  She seemed to explain bits and pieces to Methander, and he gave Kruje a doubting look. 

“
Vlagoth’s power was too great to be harnessed by anyone,”
Kruje said.  “
I don’t believe the Skullborn have harmful intent, but if they figure out a way to tap into her magic they can do Malzaria incredible harm.  Worse, there are others who will be waiting to exploit them.”

“Then we have trouble,”
Thaenn said, looking suddenly shaken. “
A Dawn Knight and the Dream Witch fell into a rift, a
cutgate
Kala created.”

“Where?”
Kruje demanded.  The sharp pain in his heart already told him the answer.  “
And who in the name of the J’ann is Kala?”

“Kala Azaean,”
Thaenn said.  “
Imperial Princess of Jlantria.  We and the Red Hand came here seeking an alliance with her.”

“I take it that didn’t work out too well...”
Kruje said.

“Not exactly.”

Kruje thought for a moment.  Chairos had clearly known of the Janus Tree, the source of Chul Gaerog’s enduring power – it had been captured in a highly detailed mural on the floor of his desert stronghold.  There was no reason to believe this Kala was any different.

“
What was Kala doing here?”
he asked. 

Methander angrily said something to Thaenn.  The night was thick and dark and the moon was gone, blanketed behind beds of iron cloud.  The two Bloodspeakers argued for a minute, and Kruje did his best to close his eyes and rest, but worry gnawed at his insides.  He already knew the answers to his questions; even asking them was a sort of denial, a hope that he was wrong.

Thaenn finally made some semblance of peace with Methander. 

“
We’re not entirely sure,”
she answered.  “
But she knew we were coming, and she never intended to form any alliance.  She lured us here so she could sacrifice us to activate some relics...”

“What relics?”
Kruje said.  Fear poured through his veins.  “
Describe them.” 
Thaenn looked taken aback, and from the corner of his eye Kruje saw Methdander turn and rub his fingers, sparking the edge of Veil power.  “
Please,”
Kruje added after a moment.