Thorne Grey and the City of Darkness

by Farrell Keeling

  ‘Where?’ Thorne frowned.

  ‘Home,’ the Hunter sighed.

  *

  The Hunter trudged on ahead through the marsh, humming an odd song under his breath, Zaine’s body stirring on his shoulder.

  ‘We’re nearly home my friend,’ Dez whispered, giving him a soft pat on the back before resuming his strange humming.

  Thorne trudged along behind, jumping, and skipping over the various puddles and deeper mud pits that threatened to swallow him up. The stench was also so terrible that he had to hold his nose, the air so strongly pungent, it made him feel light–headed just breathing it in.

  ‘You alright there?’ the Hunter shouted back.

  ‘Yes,’ Thorne lied, ‘when will we actually get there?’

  ‘Soon,’ Dez chuckled, continuing his humming.

  ‘What is that?’ Thorne frowned at the man.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Your singing.’

  The Hunter chuckled, ‘I’m allowing us to pass through the wards safely, so they don’t rip us to shreds as we go through.’

  Thorne paled. Wards? Out here in these marshes?

  ‘Wards?’ Thorne said.

  ‘Oh yes,’ the man replied, ‘by the way, they take only a few seconds to reactivate, so perhaps you might want to keep that in mind.’

  Thorne looked up from his feet, gasping when he realized the distance separating the two of them, and he sprinted ahead to meet the Hunter. His boots thick with mud by the time he did.

  The man laughed. ‘Well, you can be quick, can’t you?’ he said, grinning.

  ‘Wards?’ Thorne demanded, ‘what wards?’

  ‘Of course,’ the man replied, ‘how else would we remain where we are without being discovered?’

  ‘But–’

  ‘They were made by Warlocks several centuries ago. Surely you must have heard of this?’

  Thorne shook his head, frowning deeply. Warlocks and Hunters? How had the Masters neglected to tell him? Or anyone else for that matter?

  ‘Did we do anything else?’ Thorne inquired.

  ‘Yes, I believe your kind played a part in forging the Fountain, now that you mention it,’ the Hunter replied.

  ‘The Fountain?’

  Dez glanced behind him, ‘Not one for history lessons your people, eh?’

  The man’s hand then whipped out and stopped Thorne before he could take another step.

  ‘Wait,’ he whispered urgently.

  Ahead of the three men the marsh ended leading into an empty plain. It was eerily similar to the one in which Zaine and Thorne had found themselves, after leaving the Silent Forests. The man became silent, then began a faster, up-tempo song which heavily emphasized the vowels in his odd words. He placed his hands around his neck and took off a thin chain, at the bottom of which hung a bright green pendant, and threw it out in front of him. The pendant hovered in front of the man’s face in mid–air and then began to glow brightly, making Thorne shield his eyes. Thorne recognised the pendant, he’d seen it before... Of course, he had! Back in the Silent Forests! But his pendant was a lot darker and cracked through the middle. When the pendant’s glow diminished, Thorne stared ahead in disbelief.

  ‘Welcome to our home, Warlock, Dez said, seizing his hovering pendant and, with his free hand, making a sweeping gesture.

  Thorne was standing beneath a large stone archway. The sole entrance to the Hunter’s camp, as a two-metre-high wall spread seemingly for kilometres, from the archway to the left and right of the camp. Before them, hundreds of huts were spread out into the distance, seemingly arranged in concentric circles from some distant central point. Many of the huts illuminated by fires flickering outside.

  ‘By Ozin...’ Thorne muttered.

  Seeing he was beginning to fall behind again, Thorne shook himself vigorously and ran to the Hunter, who was deep in conversation with another man at the arch.

  ‘–I can’t,’ Thorne heard him say.

  ‘He’s dying, for all the Gods’ sakes, Amar let us through,’ Dez growled.

  ‘You know the rules, Dezavin,’ the guard hissed, ‘letting in a banished one means death for you, and as far as Zolft is concerned, anyone associated with you.’

  ‘That’s if he finds out and surely you wouldn’t be stupid enough to tell him?’ Dez glared at him.

  The man’s jaw clenched. He glanced anxiously behind him before whispering back urgently ‘I don’t like the situation we find ourselves in as much as the next Hunter, but–’

  ‘But what? He didn’t just coincidently come here for no reason, he’s here to challenge him!’

  ‘Not in this state.’

  ‘And this is the only place with the appropriate cures to help him! Every minute we waste debating here brings Zaine closer to his last breath.’

  The man blew out of his nose in annoyance, sighed and then stood out of the way. ‘Go on in,’ he said, ‘if you’re fortunate enough, you might make it to Charmer’s without being seen.’

  ‘My thanks, my friend.’

  But before Thorne could take another step forward he was halted by the tip of the man’s spear.

  ‘You brought a Warlock child, as well?’

  Thorne frowned. ‘I’m not a child,’ he grumbled under his breath.

  Dez looked back and sighed, ‘Amar.’

  The man rolled his eyes and lowered his spear, ‘fine, I guess if we’re letting in a banished one, we can let in this mighty Warlock too, eh?’

  Thorne smiled in thanks and then caught up with the blonde Hunter.

  ‘What was that all about?’ Thorne asked.

  ‘Zaine can tell you later,’ Dez replied, shifting the man’s body slightly on his shoulder.

  ‘Will he make it?’

  ‘He will – he’s a tough one,’ the man replied, but even he sounded unsure.

  They went past a number of huts, fortunately no–one challenged them. Thorne’s head swivelled around nervously as they passed by each hut, expecting danger at every corner. However hard he tried, he couldn’t drown out the thoughts that plagued his mind. Who was this Zolft that everyone seemed to hold in such contempt?

  ‘We’re here,’ Dez whispered, relief heavy in his voice.

  His thoughts quickly dissipating, Thorne followed the man’s gaze to a hut, light leaking through small cracks in the door. He was also sure he could hear hushed voices from inside but couldn’t make out what was being said.

  ‘Open the door, will you?’ Dez grunted, ‘quickly now.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Thorne asked. ‘there are some people in here.’

  ‘Its fine, trust me,’ the man hissed, ‘just open the damn door.’

  Thorne bit his lip and reluctantly grasped the notched handle of the door and pulled.

  ‘–too risky, we could do it only if we had–’

  The room fell silent and the pair of men inside turned to face the door. Frowns etched upon their faces. However, before Thorne could say anything, Dez barged past into the room.

  ‘Talk of the devil,’ one man laughed, tall, bald and burly, with a clean–shaven face and an earring that made a circle in his earlobe. ‘Wait… what the hell?’

  ‘My gods, the banishing!’ another man gasped, slightly shorter than the other, darker skinned with a strip of hair running down the middle of his head. Though, what was more distinctive about him, Thorne observed, was the fact that he was missing the middle finger of both his hands.

  ‘Be quiet!’ Dez hissed, ‘do you all want the entire guard on us? No? Then shut the hell up.’

  Thorne followed in behind, closing the door quietly behind him. The room was fairly small, although this would have been emphasised less without the presence of so many Hunters. The room had a stone floor and several wicker chairs. The walls were lined with cloth and, back by the wood burning stove, there was a stone plinth on which lay a large bow and a long sword, similar to that of Zaine’s.

  To the right side of the room, Dez had laid Zaine down on a straw bed.
r />   ‘Will he be alright?’ Thorne asked.

  ‘He’ll be right as rain,’ the bald man growled, he then glanced down at Thorne, and jumped, ‘Chimera’s eye, Dez! Who’s this little child?’

  ‘I’m not a child… and I’m not that little,’ Thorne grumbled, under his breath.

  Dez winked at the bald man and placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘This young Warlock is Thorne. Friend and brave defender of Zaine, Boulder.’

  Thorne blushed.

  The man raised an eyebrow at Dez, shrugged and then proffered his hand to Thorne. Thorne took it, feeling as though his hand was being crushed as the man shook it vigorously.

  ‘Well met, Thorne, the name’s Boulder,’ the bald man introduced himself. ‘He’s Charmer,’ pointing at the dark-skinned man by the stove, who nodded politely at Thorne and gave him a reassuring smile. The door creaked open and simultaneously the Hunters’ hands flicked to the pommels of their swords. A woman stood in the doorway, with an expression of complete shock on her face.

  ‘Ah, here she is!’ Boulder said, as the Hunters relaxed. ‘This is Illumina, our very own honorary Regal Hunter.’

  Despite the rush of warmth to his cheeks, Thorne couldn’t help but look at her. She had long, blonde hair that fell down her back and appeared to shine in the firelight. Slim, but curved. She was clearly not a Hunter; her face was sharp and her cheekbones prominent, her eyes white except for her sea-blue irises and her lips blood red against her pale skin.

  ‘I’m Thorne,’ the Warlock stuttered offering a shaking hand.

  Illumina ignored it and instead stared at him. And somehow Thorne held her gaze. ‘I don’t believe it,’ she whispered.

  The woman broke off into tears leaving Thorne utterly dumbstruck. What had he done? He glanced up at Boulder, who shrugged in return.

  ‘Lumi?’ Boulder murmured reaching out for her shoulder.

  ‘Don’t!’ she snapped, slapping away his hand.

  She paused suddenly, her eyes catching Zaine’s convulsing body, a look of horror displayed on her face. She mouthed an apology to the bald man, closed the door quietly behind her and ran up to the Hunter, kneeling beside his body.

  ‘Zaine,’ she whispered stroking his forehead.

  He stirred, muttering something jumbled but did not open his eyes.

  ‘The Banishing,’ she muttered.

  ‘Yes,’ Dez said, ‘it’s reaching its final stage, if he doesn’t get a new pendant soon…. Well, he won’t last much longer.’

  ‘Charmer,’ the Regal said.

  The man known as Charmer inclined his head, and then left the hut, pulling the door closed behind him. The Regal got up, ignoring Thorne, and walked over to the stove, reaching behind where a stack of bowls were piled. Dez followed and crouched down beside her, whispering something discretely. She replied angrily, pouring water from one bowl to another while sprinkling something into each.

  Thorne could only make out a few words from their conversation: ‘…I should have known… he really is dead…’

  Her eyes met Thorne, but this time her expression wasn’t accusatory, just rather sad. So clearly so that Thorne felt uncomfortable just looking at her. Illumina returned to the bowls. Thorne was certain he could see tears running down her cheeks.

  Dez sighed and returned to Zaine’s side giving him a soft pat on the chest. ‘Hold on, Zaine… hold on.’

  The door opened. All eyes turned to Charmer who held a metallic chain tightly in his hand. Swinging softly at the bottom was a sparkling new pendant. Or rather the two halves of one, attached on a hinge together, revealing hollow innards.

  ‘Gentlemen… lady,’ he purred, ‘I assume this will do.’

  ‘Yes,’ Illumina replied, ‘Give it to me.’

  He lowered it into her outstretched palm. Illumina nodded her thanks and set about soaking the pendant in the solution she had prepared, then vigorously drying it with a cloth.

  She passed Thorne, glancing at him for a second; it was enough to make his heart fly to his mouth, rendering speech redundant.

  The Regal then stopped by Zaine’s side and turned to Dez.

  ‘Go ahead,’ he nodded at her.

  ‘Not yet…’ Illumina muttered, ‘it would probably help if his pores could breathe.’

  ‘Agreed.’

  Thorne looked up. They were going to remove Zaine’s bandages? He was going to see his face?

  He tried to look around Dez and Illumina but then suddenly Charmer and Boulder were there as well. They almost completely blocked his sight of Zaine. All he could see were his boots.

  Thorne heard the sound of a knife being unsheathed, and a satisfying ripping noise, assumedly the bandage.

  ‘That’s quite a scar,’ Thorne heard Charmer gasp.

  ‘That sounded hopeful,’ Boulder laughed, ‘finally thinking you can stake a claim to the second most attractive man in camp?’

  ‘Not looking too bad, considering,’ Dez muttered, ‘maybe could do with a shave.’

  ‘Quiet!’ Illumina hissed.

  Thorne heard the woman mutter a few words and then silence. The anticipation was killing him, when was he going to see? A cough, and then Thorne heard someone violently vomit on the floor.

  ‘Give him space!’ Illumina said sharply.

  The men edged backwards but Thorne could still not see.

  ‘Zaine?’ Illumina whispered.

  Silence, then another cough. ‘What? Where am I? Who… Boulder? Charmer? Dez? Illumina? What–’

  ‘Easy, Zaine,’ Boulder said, ‘you’re home.’

  ‘Thorne… Where’s Thorne?’ Zaine demanded.

  The Hunters parted allowing Thorne to pass through. He muttered his thanks, and walked through, coming to a stop by the straw bed where Illumina sat with him rubbing his shoulders.

  The floor was red with blood and something darker. Did he throw up whatever was under his skin?

  He looked up at Zaine. His new pendant now pulsed green with life. The man had his head in his hands and Thorne could only see the stream of raven black hair that ran down the sides of his hands.

  The stranger lifted up his head and grinned at the sight of Thorne.

  Chapter 22

  Thorne was relieved to see that colour had returned to Zaine’s skin, and the marks that had occupied the upper portion of his body had disappeared.

  Now that the bandages were off, however, Thorne almost felt like he was speaking to a different man. Indeed, he had never imagined that this was what the Hunter would look like. The scar that ran diagonally from his brow to the bottom of his lip was more representative of what he envisioned. But the man was young, with a handsome heart-shaped face, and a stubbled jaw.

  Before Thorne could even begin to say anything, the creaking open of the door behind them attracted the group’s attention.

  ‘So, the banished one has returned!’ a voice sneered, ‘so much for the rules.’

  The man was Thorne’s height, much shorter than all the other Hunters in the room who regarded him loathsomely. He wore a buttoned leather jacket, a bright red scarf, and dark trousers. In place of a sword by his waist were two shimmering daggers. The man grinned and stepped forward, hands held behind his back, his eyes dancing up and down Illumina’s body, his lip curling.

  ‘A Regal! Ooh, I must say this is quite a surprise!’ the man clapped his hands in delight, and then frowned, ‘you’re not as pointy eared as everyone makes your kind out to be are you?’

  ‘Aespora toray!’ she spat at him, inviting a bellow of laughter from Boulder.

  The man shrugged and then his eyes flickered to Thorne.

  ‘Ahhh a Warlock! Goodness me, you know, I was just wondering what this rag tag group of clowns was missing!’

  ‘If you’ve got nothing important to say, I’d suggest you leave, Bardolf,’ Dez gestured towards the open door.

  Bardolf raised an eyebrow, his lip curling into a mocking smile, ‘my, my, my, a little sensitive aren’t we all today?’

  Zaine p
ushed himself off the bed, stumbling at his first attempt to walk but pushed away Dez’s offer of support. ‘I’ve had enough of a rough day, and to be completely honest, I’m starting to lose my patience.’

  Boulder chuckled, cracking his knuckles.

  ‘Violence, violence, people,’ the man wagged a finger disapprovingly, ‘it will get you nowhere you know. But I’m here only as an introduction.’

  ‘What introduction would that be?’ Charmer asked.

  ‘Not what, but whom,’ Bardolf replied, wagging his finger at the dark-skinned man.

  ‘Then whom?’ Illumina demanded.

  ‘I,’ said another.

  A man passed into the room, as quietly as Bardolf before him. He was huge, even bigger than Boulder, who only came up to his hooked nose. It was a wonder how nobody had heard him enter.

  The bottom half of the man’s face was covered with a red bandana that placed emphasis on his horribly scarred bald head, the scars forming a maze of patterns on his skin. His eyes were sharp and domineering; Thorne found he could only look into them for a few seconds before being unconsciously forced to look away. The man wore an ornate fur cloak, with a beige tunic, and trousers tucked into boots. His footsteps were almost inaudible, despite the sheer size of the man. Thorne knew this man, or rather, had seen him once before.

  ‘Zolft. We should have guessed you’d send your pet in first,’ Zaine snarled.

  ‘Zaine,’ the man replied with equal distaste, ‘it’s been a few years since I’ve had to lay eyes on you, I seem to remember banishing you.’

  ‘And I brought him here,’ Dez interjected, pushing past to face the man.

  ‘Oh? And why?’

  ‘The banishing was killing him,’ Charmer said, ‘Amric would never have allowed a practice as barbaric.’

  ‘Amric was weak,’ Zolft’s voice boomed, ‘I have brought the Hunters into a new age.’

  ‘You have tarnished your own people’s reputation, Zolft. That is your only legacy!’ Illumina retorted.

  The Hunter Lord chuckled gutturally, the noise comparable to that made by a broken coal burner struggling for life. ‘You were amusing at first Regal, but you begin to tire me. Bardolf.’