Blood of Jackals

by Todd Marcelas Moreno

  “Then that will make us about even,” Volienna said.

  “Do you think your combined mental strength is any match for ours? Do you think you can hold the link far longer me?”

  “Maybe,” Volienna said, signaling with a raised finger, “maybe not.” Several of the local folk stepped forward from the line of people, all carrying military lasrifles. The witches’ eyes widened. “That’s why we have these,” Volienna said with a smile, pulling her own weapon from under her shawl and kissing the end of the barrel.

  - - -

  XIV

  Steuben could see the flash of lasguns and electric fire from a distance. Even from the air, he could tell that the local population had prohibited military-grade weapons and shields. But he was glad they did. Otherwise the Dark Witches would have already slaughtered them. Lifting his binoculars, Steuben saw three women in black flying overhead who still fought. A fourth was down, and likely dead. Bodies lay on the other side of the conflict as well.

  “Have all ships target the three women in black,” Steuben ordered, now taking note of another woman through his lenses who battled the witches without the benefit of a personal shield. Despite her headscarf, and a pipe held tightly in her teeth, the woman handled herself and her weapon like a professional.

  “Don’t we want to question them, Sir?” asked a junior officer.

  “Do it!” roared Steuben, still watching the woman take shots at the witches between moving for cover to avoid counter-fire. The officer came to attention and acknowledged the order. Below, the woman Steuben studied fired and rolled to evade a blast that surely would have killed her. Goddamn but that old broad has guts, the Colonel thought admiringly, wondering if she could cook as well.

  As the military ships drew near, the remaining witches raised their eyes to Steuben’s ship before turning to flee. Multiple blasts from the ships’ lascannons however overwhelmed the women’s shields, and reduced their bodies to ash.

  Steuben’s ship touched down near the gathered crowd. “Get these people out of here, Lieutenant,” Steuben ordered, “and get all units into position. These four weren’t alone.”

  “How do you know, Sir?”

  “Instinct,” replied Steuben, unwilling to name Lady Morays. It had to be her, and there had to be more Dark Sisters on her side. As the lieutenant went to carry out her orders, Steuben returned his attention to the group of locals, looking for the leader. Even with their illegal lasguns, the Colonel knew that the crowd would have been no match for the witches. That meant that someone there had psychic training, someone who knew how to draw on the power of the group. Steuben found his leader in an old woman several people were helping to walk, including the woman he had seen earlier with the lasrifle. He exited his shuttle.

  “Excuse me, Madam,” Steuben began, walking up to Volienna Delmon, “I wonder if I may have a word with you.”

  The people standing with her closed ranks around the old woman. Though clearly exhausted, she waved them off. “What is your name?” she asked.

  Steuben was about to give one of his false names, but caught the woman’s look. She would know if he lied. “Colonel Steuben, Ma’am, from HOPIS.”

  “Ask your question, Henrald,” Volienna replied, smiling at his surprise.

  Steuben paused before deciding to be direct. “Where is he?”

  “Why should I tell you?”

  “Because I can help him.”

  “And also kill him,” she retorted, opening her psychic awareness. Steuben sensed her tapping the power of the people around her, amazed that she still had the strength for it after battling the witches. All eyes turned toward him.

  “You know that’s not why I’m here,” Steuben said, ready to raise his mental shields in an instant. “Clearly I’m not on the side of the Dark Witches.”

  “Who says there are only two sides to this?” the woman asked.

  “Look, more of them are coming,” said Steuben. “They know what happened here, and will be prepared.”

  “I know about the others,” the woman breathed. “We were buying him time. It was all we could do. If it is all that we do now, so be it.”

  Steuben looked at her, puzzled. “Why?” he asked. “He’s nothing to you.”

  The old woman raised her brow.

  “You people live on your own out here,” he added, “outside government control. Why should you care about... him?”

  “Who says we do?” the old woman asked. “Those witches killed folk. That’s enough for us to want justice. Mucking their other plans is a bonus.”

  “So, if you don’t care about him, why not tell me where he is?”

  “Why put him in greater possible danger just for your benefit.”

  “What can I do to convince you that I’m here to save his life?”

  “Share with me. You know damn well that not everyone in your government wants him back alive.”

  “I cannot do that. There are security matters which must be”

  “You argue that against his life?”

  Steuben eyed the woman, but ultimately expelled his breath and encapsulated the memory of his meeting with Derrick in the HOPIS field office in Landsig. He had gone there to kill Agent Meres on the order of the former First Advisor. Steuben’s conversation with Derrick had changed that. Further, it had changed Steuben’s view on House Possór. Despite his prideful cynicism, it had even given him hope for change on Legan. He was there to fight for that hope.

  Having received Steuben’s projected memory, the old woman regarded him anew. After a moment, she did as Steuben had done for her, and sent out a projection of her thoughts, giving him Derrick’s exact location.

  - - -

  Steuben was close to Derrick’s hiding place when he heard an explosion and the sound of lasfire in the distance. The other witches had arrived. Guessing that the newcomers were aware of what happened to their Dark Sisters, Colonel Steuben knew that the battle would not be easy. He just hoped the conflict lasted long enough for him to get Derrick and leave.

  Steuben descended from the air with his hover-vehicle and jumped over the side before the craft even stopped. In one of his pockets was a viral injectable brought to fight the witches. There had been no need to use the biological weapon earlier, but as he bent down and entered the opening of a small natural cave, he was glad for his precaution. This was likely to get personal.

  “Stay where you are,” a voice commanded.

  “I am Colonel Henrald Steuben of HOPIS,” Steuben declared. “I am here to see to the safety of Lord Derrick.”

  “I don’t know you,” Meres replied. “You’ll have to give me more.”

  “I know you by your voice, Agent Jair Meres,” the Colonel rumbled. “Bringing Lord Derrick here was dangerous. Do you know what’s going on out there with your kith and kin?”

  “You mean, what went on, don’t you?”

  “That was but the first attack. More Dark Witches have arrived, and are fighting my forces and those of your country folk. We do not have much time.”

  “I don’t believe you. Dark Witches would have all come at once.”

  “I can’t speak for them, but one group has already failed to get him. Now there’s a new batch. So, where is—he is here!” Steuben could sense his presence, and the fact of it alarmed him. “Lord Derrick, can you speak?”

  “He’s not himself,” said Meres. “There is a psychic bar over his memory.”

  “I have someone who can help with that.”

  “No, I was told not to—”

  Steuben spun at the entry of someone else in the cave. Meres’ light hit Kamarin in the face, but her weapon remained steady. Steuben’s weapon was also out, but Meres still had his aimed at the Colonel. “What in the hell are you doing here, Taniell?” Steuben cursed.

  “Where’s Derrick?” she demanded, lifting a glowglobe from her pack and letting it hover over her. Derrick was standing less than three paces behind Meres. “Ah, there he is.”

  “Who are you?” Me
res asked, dropping his flashlight as another weapon flew into his hand from an automatic holster along his forearm.

  “I suggest you answer him, Taniell,” Steuben said pointedly, still angry that she had somehow followed him.

  “What is this about Derrick’s memory being blocked?” she asked, circling around Steuben while keeping her weapon leveled at Derrick.

  “He doesn’t know who he is,” Steuben hissed.

  Derrick stepped away from Meres.

  “No, my Lord!” Meres snapped, stepping in front of him again. Derrick looked at Meres strangely before turning back to Taniell.

  “Do I know you?” Derrick asked.

  “No, but you knew some of my friends,” she replied. “Well enough to have them killed.” Derrick shook his head.

  “He doesn’t know what you’re talking about, Taniell,” said Steuben.

  “But he’ll remember eventually, right?” Kamarin stepped closer. “If he lives, he’ll know what he got away with?”

  “Taniell—”

  An explosion sent all four of them tumbling as half the cave’s entryway was blown in. A dark form entered. Dazed, Steuben reached for his lasgun only to have it torn from his grip by an unseen force. Meres and Taniell experienced a similar display of the Dark Witch’s power. Steuben cursed as he realized that the fourth witch he saw had not been dead, and that she had tracked him.

  “Well, Little Lord,” said the Witch, closing in on Derrick, “you have been rather bothersome. It will be a pleasure to kill you when your usefulness is over.”

  “You can’t have him,” Taniell murmured, rising to her feet. “He’s mine.”

  As the Witch turned to Kamarin with amused surprise, Steuben edged his way closer to the rebel leader. “And you will stop me?” the Witch asked.

  “I will do what I must to avenge the blood on Derrick Possór's hands,” Kamarin said, bringing her own hands behind her back. Before she completed her action, Steuben’s arm flew out and buried a knife in her throat.

  Meres and Derrick lurched forward as Taniell reached for the blade. Her eyes bulged, and blood spilling from her wound, Taniell Kamarin dropped to her knees before falling forward. Still strapped behind her back was the object she had tried to free with her hands.

  Steuben’s action had been on instinct. He had acted without even thinking. Now seeing her lifeless body on the ground, he felt himself wanting to empty his stomach, despite his inurement to blood and violence, and the visual verification that he had made the right decision.

  “You knew her, and yet you killed her,” the Witch charged Steuben.

  “You know that she had a thermo-explosive,” Steuben replied, tearing his eyes from Taniell, but only slowly moving his head to face the Witch.

  “Yes, just as you know that I would not have let her use it.”

  “She would have gotten us all killed with her... stupidity.”

  “What makes you think I won’t kill you anyway?”

  “Any chance is better than none.”

  The Witch smiled. “You,” she said, psychically augmenting the power of her voice as she pointed at Derrick. “Come with me.”

  Derrick straightened, but did not step forward to obey.

  The Witch frowned at his show of strength. “Has the bar slipped that much?” she asked. The Witch held out her hand toward Derrick and let her eyelids close halfway. With one fluid motion, Meres grabbed the knife Steuben had used on Kamarin and rushed at the Witch.

  The Witch did not even move. Before Meres could touch her, he was lifted by an unseen force, circled over the Witch’s head and hurled against the stone wall. The distinctive crack of bone echoed in the cave. Derrick cried out as he ran to Meres’ side.

  The Witch glanced once at Steuben, frozen in his stance, before returning her attention to Derrick. “Come here, Derrick Possór,” the Witch intoned once more.

  Derrick stood slowly by his own volition. Even Steuben sensed the gathering of psychic energy as Derrick readied his attack. Steuben freed the injectable in his pocket, hoping her focus on Derrick would prevent her from sensing his intent. Dismissing the self-preserving colonel as a threat, the Witch laughed as she stepped forward, welcoming Derrick’s futile assault.

  “No, Derrick!” Steuben roared, rushing in front of Derrick as the witch closed the distance between them. At the last instant Steuben feigned a fall, with his left leg seeming to give way as he turned, spun around, and drove a hypo needle into the Witch’s exposed forearm.

  The Witch shrieked and summoned a bolt of energy that sent Steuben flying across the floor. Only as the Witch realized what Steuben had injected her with did Derrick make his psychic attack. With a high-pitched wail, the Witch was thrown back against the opposite wall. Diving for a lasgun, Derrick turned and was about to take aim when the gun was pulled from his hand to that of the Witch. Snarling, the Witch flew into the air toward Steuben as she fired the weapon at Derrick. Derrick went down as the Witch descended upon the Colonel.

  “Where is the antidote?” the Witch demanded, lifting the gasping Steuben from the floor as blackened blood pooled on the floor beneath her black dress.

  Steuben fought for breath as he fortified his mental shields. The Witch had her own dual battle as blood welled in her eyes and fell from her nose, mouth and ears. She lifted the lasgun to Steuben’s chin and hammered his mental shields.

  “Tell me!” the Witch demanded, the virus destroying her body despite her fight to psychically heal herself. Knowing that a lasfire from point-blank range would kill him even with the weapon set to stun, Steuben grabbed the woman’s arm and pushed the weapon aside. The weapon fired, but the woman’s physical strength, now unaided by her psychic power, was no match to his.

  Her eyes black, and her clothes soaked in her own diseased blood, the Witch abandoned the struggle over the lasgun and held on to Steuben as she fell.

  Steuben pushed and kicked her away. Turning from the quivering mess of disintegrating flesh, Steuben looked for Derrick, seeing him on the floor some distance away. Closing his eyes, he sent out a mental projection. Derrick was still alive. The lasgun must have been on a low setting. “Wake up,” Steuben called with his thoughts. Derrick stirred. “You have to leave.”

  Derrick lifted himself up and turned to look at Steuben, and then to what remained of the Witch. “What did you do?” he asked weakly.

  “I took a gamble and won,” Steuben replied. “You’re lucky she didn’t touch you,” he continued, “but you have to get out of here. You can still be infected.”

  Derrick rose. “And you?”

  “I’m inoculated,” Steuben replied, “but temporarily contagious. The virus was carefully crafted. Soon it will die out. But we should leave.”

  “Jair—”

  “Leave him,” Steuben ordered, still keeping his distance from Derrick.

  Derrick slowly made his way out of the cave as Steuben followed.

  “Now,” Steuben began once they were outside, “here’s what we’ll do.”

  “We will not do anything,” Derrick corrected, coming to a decision. “I don’t know who you are, or what you want, but I want you to stay away from me.”

  Steuben narrowed his brow. “Hey, I just saved your life back there.”

  “To what purpose? I saw what you did to your friend. How easy it was—”

  “She was not my friend.”

  “But Jair was my friend, and you knew him too. You had that virus of yours the whole time, and could have killed her sooner. Instead, you let him die.”

  “I had to get close to her to use the virus. Closing on her sooner would have risked both you and Meres getting infected, and I only had one spare antidote. He still would have died.”

  “I still do not want you near me,” Derrick said, walking to the hover-vehicles. “Jair has the starter code in his pocket for the vehicle we used. Since I cannot go back in the cave...”

  Steuben nodded coldly. “A duplicate code is under my front passenger seat.”


  Derrick got in the Steuben’s vehicle and found it. “Thank you,” he said.

  “Where do you intend to go? You know you can’t trust anyone.”

  “That is now clear to me. Wherever I go though, it is none of your concern.”

  Steuben set his teeth as Derrick started the vehicle, looked back once, and left. “Idiot kid,” he muttered as he returned to the cave. Leaving Meres for now, the Colonel searched Kamarin’s body. He would let his people clean up the mess, but he had to be sure that nothing she carried would compromise his position. After pocketing a few things, Steuben retrieved his knife and saw a broken gold chain around her neck. The attached locket was open and, seeing the picture inside, he pulled back his hand as if it had been burned. In his mind, he again heard the name that had stopped him from eliminating Taniell before: Rachel.

  It was the name of his lost love, and the name of a now orphaned child.

  Damn you, Taniell, Steuben thought, trying a ward off an obligation which demanded satisfaction. Survival may have required Kamarin’s death, but even as he plunged the blade into her throat, he knew that need only partially guided him. In truth, the Dark Witch was right to take perverse satisfaction in his murderous nature. And Derrick was right to fear it. It had been easy for him to kill Taniell. If faced with a similar choice again, he would do the same thing.

  For Henrald Steuben was a killer, one that was no different than those he swore to fight. No different than those who took the life of his own Rachel.

  Damn you, Taniell.

  - - -

  In the halls of Crucidel, Lilth Morays let her bolt of psychic energy flare and die, having shot upright from her chair and burned the room’s floor and walls along her direct line of sight. “Hestori,” she whispered, no longer screaming.

  Lilth’s pet snake poked its head out from behind its play companion, having quickly hid behind the boy in the face of its mistress’ fit of destruction.

  Lilth absently retook her seat before looking up at her brother through a com-screen. “I want that whole countryside reduced to ash,” she said.