Spark City

by Robert J Power

  Erroh didn’t know what to do with himself as the day passed on. It felt strange to do nothing except watch and wait for the sky to clear. The last time he had such a stillness had been by the rock. She on the other hand was at ease walking around as if it was their own little village and her wanderings brought her to the tilled patches on the outskirts of the town where she discovered a new interest, digging her soft fingers through the water logged fields tending to crops. Aye, her predecessors had done the mule’s work but as she dug, pulled, and examined the fresh vegetables a wonderful sense of peace overcame her. Thoughts of a possible future living this way returned to her mind and she allowed the illusion to warm her. There were worse things than a farm with a mate and cubs.

  They practised with their weapons in the centre of the little town. She fought with renewed vigour and took fewer hits than ever before. Erroh held nothing back and she relished the fresh challenge. She matched his terrific speed in certain moments. They were like ominous apparitions, their bodies moving as blurs. They attacked as if frenzied and while she had improved her skill, she still couldn’t match his mind for battle. Thinking like a beast bred for war would only come in time but she knew herself capable. They clashed with each other for hours, ignoring the thunderous downpour that drenched them through to their bones, lost in the forgiving beauty of passion. When they called a truce both Alphas collapsed in the mud and panted until words could be spoken.

  “A good fight,” she said between breaths.

  “One of the finest,” he agreed spitting some blood from his lip.

  She didn’t know why she desperately wanted to savour these moments but every breath she took with him that day she tried to burn into her memory.

  He never believed in gut feelings or omens yet still, there was something in the air. It felt as though absent gods whispered terrible warnings in his mind, and every time he saw a hoof print in the ground, he felt it more.

  The following morning they shared some toasted honey bread. She wore a little smile on her face and he thought it suited her wonderfully. They also shared banal conversation of unimportant matters and it felt good. Overall, it was a fine morning preparing for the road. Lea triple checked the meats and vegetables until she was satisfied with the supplies. As the first of the early afternoon drizzle began to fall, they climbed onto their massive beasts and with a little regret departed the desolate town. He did not bother taking a final look at the warning. The sinister words were already committed to memory. The town of Cathbar had been good to them when they needed it most.

  Heather and Skyroad

  They followed the tracks south for a few more weeks fighting rainfall almost every day. Making rough cover and stripping twigs of damp bark took up most of their evenings. They made slow progress but they loved every rain sodden moment. Each night they would recline on opposite sides of the fire and discuss their separate worlds. She explained the politics of the city and its prejudicial rule. He admitted to suffering pressure from growing up in the household of Magnus and Elise. He offered his views on great battles from the Faction Wars while she challenged him with the history she had learned. She spoke of her life before Samara. He spoke of the road. They shared all that they knew and once more, they began to cherish each other’s company. When the shattered moon had moved a little further across the clear sky, they would answer the call of weariness and lay down to sleep comfortably apart. Their sparring became more intense. Erroh put it down to desire to do many beautiful and sordid things to her body. She added her own brand of intensity herself. Maybe she was feeling it too. Each session lasted longer and longer until one of them would eventually yield, purely from exhaustion. Countless dreary mornings Erroh would find Lea’s beautiful body wrapped around his own. Some nights his low whimpers drew her to him, other nights, she just wanted his warmth and a respite from the raging winds and raindrops on her face. She never said anything as she stretched and climbed out from under his blankets and neither did he. He was true to his word and behaved like a perfect little Alpha and he was made to work hard for her forgiveness. Her trust would eventually return but he never chased it. They had all the time in the world and there were worse ways to waste a life away.

  That is, until they found the slaughtered remains of the inhabitants of Cathbar.

  The dreary sky must have known of the massacres below for no sun could pierce the veneer of cloud blanketing the sky. There was no sunlight to offer levity and they stood on top of a heather covered hill in silence. The all-consuming wildflower had left the landscape a wild purple and grey. Lea let a clump fall silently from her hand without notice but the smell was still prevalent in her nose. It had always reminded her of her childhood but all she could see were the dead now. The heather would bring new memories.

  There was no Rider to be seen for miles but they had been here. Erroh roused himself from the shock first. He steered his horse down the slope towards the ruined convoy. She hesitated and he didn’t blame her. After a few moments, she followed down through the ocean of colour. Her mind grasped the images and stored them for a lifetime of nightmares ahead, however long that might be.

  They never had a chance. The amount of dried and hardened bloodstains in the trampled grass told them as much. If there had been losses suffered by the mysterious riders, the fallen were taken with them while the victims remained behind, forgotten, and spread out across the land.

  There was no smell of decay. There was only heather. Erroh felt the nauseous turn of his stomach and he fought the urge to throw up. He would do that later. Beside him the miserable spectre that was Lea walked by aimlessly. She let go of the reins and allowed her horse to wander and graze oblivious to the horrors in the grass it fed on. The attack had occurred some time ago; they still lay where they been felled, like broken logs ruined by the harsh elements.

  “Go tend to the horses Lea,” he said gently. He could deal with this. More than that, he would make her believe that he could deal with this.

  “You’re not going through this alone again,” she replied, her voice breaking.

  He didn’t argue. He wanted to but he had no words.

  The massacre had been quick, savage, and efficient. The weak that had taken flight had not escaped the flames after all. They had merely prolonged the chase. Uden the Woodin Man had claimed his next victims.

  Who the fuk was this demon?

  What powers did he have that traversal across the world took him so little time?

  Erroh ran his quivering fingers through his black hair and tried to stop his head from falling off. The six carts were untouched save for a few boxes gracelessly removed to locate any hidden stowaways and there was a large scorch mark in the ground where the brutes had completed their barbaric ritual.

  “There’s little we can learn here,” Erroh said forcefully as if strength in tone was something to build upon. He found a spot and cursed the absent gods for allowing this misery. It was as good as any place out here and he searched deep within him for the will to begin the wretched task. It was his only repayment for their hospitality. They’d slept in their beds, eaten their food, drank their liquor while every one of their absent hosts lay out here rotting. “We’ll honour them,” he said and her pale face nodded in agreement.

  It was much the same as before and he attacked the grisly task with the same grim efficiency. The elements had begun the process already but the earth would do the rest. She dug with him. The grave was no more than twenty feet each way and a few feet deep. Admittedly, it was an easier task with his mate at his side though he’d wish no such horrors on any person. For the rest of the day they dug in silence until the grave was big enough to hold all the lost souls. The real horrors began as night fell around them. Dragging a corpse apiece into the grave with the stench of sweet heather in their noses was a torment that stole their voices and their breaths. Searching for each body with a torch in their hand became a miserable game of hunt-and-hide.

  It was the body of the young girl which b
roke Lea finally. The little one had not come of age nor would she ever. This was what had saved her from the fiery grave. Her body lay further away from the rest of the carts. Fear must have given her wings and she had run far. The little one had taken a bolt in the back of the head and died before she dropped. Her hair had been red, her shirt had been pink, and Lea fell to her knees and wailed openly. Erroh watched on in silence wary of adding to the lament. After a time, he went to her and placed his grubby had across her shoulder. There was a grave to finish. She took his hand and squeezed it.

  “It’s a good oath,” she whispered coldly.

  The gods granted them a beautiful dawn and a clear sky above. Sleep called but neither wanted to rest. She looked back at the mound, at the scorch marks in the earth and the world felt all too real. She felt helpless and small. She looked at her strong mate beside her as he led his horse away from the desolation and she understood his pain. It was now her oath too.

  Miles beyond the blood soaked basin the two Alphas made camp. Off the beaten track, they took shelter among some fruit laden trees, though neither had the taste for food. Erroh lay down under his cloak and closed his weary eyes. Just a few hours’ sleep and off again to ride further from the memories.

  “Please don’t say anything,” she whispered, sliding in beside him. “I can’t take any jest or wit to ease the tension,” she said and closed her eyes.

  “As you wish, beo,” he whispered back.

  For a few days after they buried the bodies, Lea struggled with their mindless trek. The going was easier but she was laboured in everything she said and did. The only time she came alive was in the fighting. Like a rabid beast, she attacked with little regard for her own welfare. She was amazing and pushed him further than anyone had before, apart from Magnus. Eventually she locked the thoughts away and began to find her beautiful smile once again, which was a good thing because the trail went completely cold at the foot of one of the great structures of the ancients.

  The skyroad was more than a simple stone road. It was ugly, enormous and a terribly unnerving thing to gaze upon. As if by the hand of the absent gods, it rose steeply into the air almost as high as Samara’s walls and probably older. He felt dizzy looking upon it. It was manmade but not of this time. They followed the steep sloping path into the sky. With monstrous supports every thousand feet or so, it was no surprise the beast remained sturdy under the relentless assault of the wind. From there they could see the land spread out for miles. Only patches of open waterlogged glades broke the constant view of green and it was humbling. The skyroad led south, beyond the horizon.

  “I’ve heard of such things,” she called above the growing roar in their ears.

  “It’s a road across the sky,” he replied wrapping his cloak tighter around him to fight the chill.

  “We’ll make good time,” she called again, tapping the quiver at her waist absently. Her hunting eyes little more than thin slits.

  The trail disappeared altogether atop the skyroad. Even the most skilled tracker would struggle to track on stone. Every ten miles or so a side-road led back down to the ground and disappeared into nothing out in the wastes. More than that, where the vibrant green met ancient grey there were numerous clefts and footprints spoiling any tracking. Still they tried, but after countless journeys up and down and numerous hours lost in the process, their hopes faded and after a dozen failures; they gave up completely.

  “It’s nobody’s fault,” she muttered, pulling her mount’s reins harshly as they returned to the peak. The beast snorted in reply.

  “Maybe if we choose a likely path and gamble,” he suggested weakly but they both knew the cause was lost. Lea took his free hand and kissed it gently.

  “I want to kill them all too. And when we find them we will,” she said coldly before releasing him and climbing atop her mount. In that crushing moment, she knew she could never be a typical female, eager to spawn little cubs and rear them well. She was no Mea, content with her life on a farm. She believed she’d wanted it all her misguided life. She had even tasted such a thing in Cathbar, briefly, but finding the dead had finally woken her from her stupor and now a terrifying truth had landed upon her like an executioner’s axe. No longer did she wonder why Erroh was the only man for her. She could sense his rage and it matched her own. She was drawn to him like no one before and there was love, it grew every day but there would be no happily ever after. They were not destined for a long life. They would die by steel but before she stepped into the darkness, there would be blood on her hands as well. And whenever they took to hunting these brutes, she would be by his side. She would follow him to the end of the world. Even against his wishes.

  They’d long since passed the unreliable map’s boundaries and travelled countless miles over many days along the skyroad before the signs of age began to appear on the monstrosity. Stone chunks missing from the waist high parapet on each side of the road became frequent and soon enough terrifying holes appeared on the path revealing dense woodland far below them. The road came to an abrupt end where one of the supports had collapsed, leaving a gap over a deep river. In the distance, the construct stood segmented and fractured as if this one break had begun its great downfall like a keystone in a bridge. It was no longer impressive. Instead, it was the same as every other ancient structure burned in the fires throughout the world. A worn road lay at this last exit, which they took. It followed the river south, so with heavy hearts they kicked their mounts forward and returned to their inglorious mission as messengers for the Primary.

  She needed levity and surprisingly, in the river, she found some. In the darkness and with a little trepidation she dropped into the water and floated over towards him allowing the gentle current to tug slightly at her and bring her closer. He didn’t seem to notice as he scrubbed at his clothing with the soap. He cared about bathing a little too much. He’d said it was about hunting but she suspected it was something else. He would tell her when he needed to, she supposed.

  “I won’t pull you under,” he jested guiltily without looking up. She bobbed in the water opposite him, watching his hands as they attacked the garment. There was something oddly relaxing about it. Something in the back of her mind, like little electric sparks.

  “I trust you,” she cooed.

  He threw his shirt ashore and then a realisation struck him and he pointed to the riverbank where all his clothing lay in the damp grass, in dire need of the campfire warmth.

  “We usually bathe in private. You caught me unawares,” he mumbled.

  She started to laugh.

  “I finally caught you off guard,” she mocked, splashing some water in his face and finding this terrifically amusing.

  The moment was contagious.

  “I am beaten,” he replied laughing. The release couldn’t be held and their joint laughter echoed far into the green. Such a wonderful sound after so many bitter days chasing ghosts was uplifting.

  “May I recover my clothing Mydame?” he asked finally when he’d caught his breath. He eyed a low hanging branch drooping over the water and formed a plan involving reaching up and snapping it free to cover his dignity. The danger was in the leap from the water.

  Her face darkened but the smile never left her beautiful eyes. “Mydame?” she mocked swimming to the bank where his clothes lay and pulling herself up onto its grassy edge.

  “So I’m an ignorant old wench then?” she mocked, and he didn’t like that tone. Not one little bit.

  “You’re amazing and incredible. The finest of all females in the world,” he cried in mock panic though still watching warily as she reached for his defenceless clothing.

  “Finer than Lillium?” she sniffed and grinned dangerously.

  “She has a fine chest but yeah, probably,” he laughed knowing his folly.

  She tossed them into the air. It was a good throw. She must have checked the wind and everything because they landed a great distance away in a shrub.

  “Whoops.”

 
He suddenly became aware just how very cold the water was. He needed to explain just how cold the water had become.

  She dropped back into the river and swam in an arc away from the bank to give him a clear route to recover his garments. Her eyes were mocking and suggestive. He was her amusement for the evening and after everything he’d done, she was fully entitled to a little retribution.

  “It’s very cold,” he said quietly and despite everything, he was enjoying the teasing. It was a fine distraction from serious things. It was a reminder how newly mated couples should behave and play while walking the road. He climbed out revealing only his rear for her enjoyment. He thought it a fine ploy on his part but he hadn’t taken a step before her sudden scream of terror shattered the serenity of the night. It was primal and his urge to save her overpowered him. His instincts took hold and his thoughts raced. A sudden strong current? Bandits? In terror, he spun around and was halfway into the water before he caught her smile and realised her ploy. Well played my beo. You nasty witch.

  “I’m okay now,” she informed him without meeting his eyes because her attention was elsewhere and he felt like he was in the Cull all over again.

  “Thank you very much,” she said, still not looking up at him.

  “I deserved this didn’t I?” he said before picking up his damp clothing and covering some of his pride.

  To her delight, the fresh night air was not cold at all.

  “You may take your petty revenge. All you have to do is ask,” she joked tugging gently at her shirt. She felt that wonderful desire overcome her somewhat. They had travelled so far and he was hers to command. A few stolen glances on both their part was perfectly acceptable. Nothing wrong with a little bit of play.