by Jeff Gunzel
“So you offered her in exchange for his service?” Liam questioned. “Another innocent sacrifice to buy you more time?”
“No!” Alaric protested, then paused to think. “It wasn’t like that at all. In fact, he is the one who inquired about her. He was already aware the girl was in captivity.”
“And how would he have known that?” Liam asked suspiciously. “He’s not from anywhere around these parts.”
“I don’t know! I don’t care!” Alaric blurted, fed up with what he felt were unimportant questions. “People talk in this city. He may have caught wind of a rumor or two. Does it matter? He works for us now, and that’s all that counts.”
Liam stepped forward, glaring down on Alaric. “You forced her to suffer for no reason. Why would you have given such immoral orders?”
Alaric sighed. “It was at the request of the hunter. Something about seeing how far it had progressed. I don’t even know what it is. Now please, Liam, put your things away and let’s have a long talk. Surely you don’t really mean to leave Redwater.”
“Old friend,” said Liam, managing a smile. “You have proven to be a spineless serpent of a man. I will not work for you another day. Without me here to assist in hiding your corrupt practices, the people will soon see you for the fraud you truly are. You will be striped of power, possibly even executed the way you have done to so many others. I care not what happens to you.”
Alaric bared his teeth, closed fists trembling with anger. “I am a noble leader,” he growled. “I am a great man!”
“No,” Liam whispered. “You are not. Your father was a noble leader. Your father was a great man. You...are a scheming, spineless drunkard. And a day is coming when you will pay for your countless atrocities.”
Alaric took a deep breath, fire blazing in his eyes. “I, Lord Alaric Bournfred, dismiss you from my service,” he hissed, each word soft and dangerous. “Now get out of my sight.” Liam dipped into a low, mocking bow before continuing on his way.
Chapter 4
Viola lifted her pale leg from the warm, soapy water, a cluster of suds still clinging to her ankle. It felt like ages since she’d had a proper bath, and the water felt good. Relaxing. Running her hand over her knee, down and across her inner thigh, she slowly lowered her leg back down beneath the surface. Tilting her head back, she dipped her white hair. It spread out wide like the bloom of a flower, water circling her face and covering her ears. She remained submerged for a long while, listening to the underwater echoes.
She was stalling, of course, her mind working feverishly on how she might escape her predicament. There were no windows in this room, and the only door was guarded from the other side. Mind drifting, she couldn’t help but think about what might have been. Ethan had been executed for harboring a criminal, yet the criminal herself had been spared for some reason. All in all, she felt lucky to even be alive, let alone sitting in a warm bath.
She didn’t care what happened to Ethan. She hated him, and was glad he was gone. The admission made her feel guilty, yet she couldn’t deny her true feelings. But now what? Was she truly better off now that he was gone? Had she only exchanged one set of problems for another? This...Demon Hunter...was going to take her away. To where? For what? Perhaps she was going to be a slave all over again. The only difference would be she’d have a different master. Her mind raced as she tried to take it all in.
There came a light knocking on the door. “Hurry up in there,” someone said from the hallway. “It’s time for you to go.” The door opened and one of the guards entered, holding a towel in one hand, folded clothes in the other. Embarrassed by the male intrusion, Viola sank into the water. Surrounded by bubbles, her face was the only thing still showing. With hardly a glance in her direction, the man placed the items on the stool next to the tub. “You have two minutes to get dressed,” he said. He left, closing the door behind him.
She could hear muffled voices just outside the door. “Did you get a good look?” asked one voice, snickering between each word.
“A good look at what? A corpse?” replied the other voice. She recognized it as the man who was just here. “From what I hear, dead bodies are more your type, Gilin.” Laughter followed the cruel exchange.
She winced at the hurtful remarks, suddenly feeling very foolish. Of course no man would look at her that way. Pulling herself up from the tub, she gazed into the steamed mirror on the far wall. Even through the blurred reflection, her ghostly white skin and dark red eyes were plain to see. She wiped away a tear before it rolled down her cheek. I won’t let them see me cry. Snatching the towel, she dried off quickly, then shook out the clothes they brought.
The tan shirt and black pants were rather dull, but perfectly comfortable. They gave her a gray, hooded travel cloak that buttoned at the collar. This could certainly be useful for hiding her appearance. Once dressed, she went out into the hall where several guards were waiting for her. Whatever private joke they had going on this time, their snickering ceased when they saw her.
“I’m ready,” she said, her red eyes locking onto each of them in turn. Each looked away, wilting under that eerie gaze. She liked seeing them fidget nervously, but in truth, it only served as a reminder of how different she was. How different she would always be.
*
“Our mounts are watered and ready to go,” said Owen, tossing two leather bags down at Xavier’s feet. “Take these down, and make sure they have the wagon ready. I don’t want to stay here any longer than necessary.” Without a word, Xavier slung a bag over each shoulder and left the room.
Owen had begun lacing up his black boots when he heard the door open again. “I’m not big on long, mushy goodbyes, mystic,” he grumbled without looking back. Giving the laces a final tug, he turned to face Liam. “That’s why you’re here, right? Already, you miss my pretty face,” he said with an open-mouthed cackle. Liam saw for the first time that the hunter was missing quite a few teeth.
“That title no longer applies to me,” Liam stated, his face hard as stone.
Owen stopped his cackling, but a mocking grin remained. “Oh, I see,” he said with a shrug. “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re in me room. Why don’t you go to the local tavern and see if they need a mystic? Perhaps you can entertain the local drunks for a few copper pieces.”
“Careful, hunter,” Liam warned, knuckles tensing against his white staff. “I did not come here to listen to you joke of my lost status.”
“Then why are you here?” he growled, no longer grinning. “I’ve no time for your games old man. If you’ve something to say, then say it so I can be on my way.”
“Tell me what you know of Viola,” Liam shot back. He watched Owen’s eyes carefully. Reading others was one of his greatest talents, and now was a good time to display that talent.
“So the thing has a name,” Owen replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Not much to tell, really. I heard a few rumors about a captured witch or demon, and I wanted to see it myself. I assure you she’s neither.” A knowing smile reappeared on his face. “Then again, you already knew that.”
“I did,” Liam admitted. “Yet, somehow you already knew she was in captivity before you reached our city.”
“I did,” Owen also admitted. A long silence followed, the two dangerous men sizing each other up. “I know a fool when I see one,” Owen continued. “Tricking Lord Alaric into believing she was simply diseased was easy. Soon after that, I bargained to take her with me in exchange for investigating the recent attack. A fair price, I’d say.”
“You deprived her of food and water for a full day,” Liam shot back, still angry at that fact.
“That had nothing to do with tricking Alaric,” he assured Liam. “That be a real test. I needed to see how her body would respond to a lack of sustenance. Tell me mystic, what better way to prove whether or not she be able to control her laberath blood?” Owen asked. And there it was. Liam’s eyes went wide, stunned that the Demon Hunter was even aware of what she
was. He had greatly underestimated this man. “Seeing as how you still be alive, even after sleeping next to her for several hours, I can safely assume it has not overtaken her human side.” Another long silence passed.
“It seems that you and I share a secret,” Liam admitted, finally breaking the silence. “You asked why I came to you. I no longer have a place to call home. Therefore, I wish to travel with you, your apprentice, and Viola.”
“And why would I agree to that?” the hunter sneered.
“Because whatever it is you’ve gotten yourself into, you are in over your head. I know you think you’re invincible, but sooner or later you will require my services,” Liam reasoned. “As you can imagine, I have a lot of questions about your true reason for being here. But for now, it’s clear to me you have an objective. I am aware of your reputation, but you should be aware of mine as well. If you and I are not on the same side, then it stands to reason that you are my enemy. And that would be bad for both of us.”
The hunter’s smirk reappeared. “Are yea done?” he asked, arms folded across his chest.
“No, I have another reason,” said Liam. “I promised Viola I would not abandon her. I never break my promises, and I never abandon my friends.”
The hunter’s arms fell to his side as he shook his head. He grabbed the last bag off the bed and headed towards the door, nudging Liam with his shoulder as he passed. Liam sighed, leaning heavily against his staff. Now what would he do?
“We leave in ten minutes,” came the call from the hallway. “I hope you’re already packed.”
*
A pair of guards at her front, two more at her back, Viola was marched towards the front doors. It was everything she could do not to make a break for it. Not yet. Just a little farther. If I seem overeager they’ll sense something’s wrong.
Her plan was a simple one: the moment they stepped outside, she would start running until she separated enough to transform into her blackbird form, then take the chase back to the rooftops. As far as she knew, there didn’t seem to be anyone who could keep pace with her step for step. None of them are as fast as me. I Just have to get outside.
The torturous march seemed to go on forever. Hands bound at her front, the ropes crackled as she nervously twisted her wrists back and forth. Around the next corner, the front doors came into view. Her muscles began twitching with anticipation. Almost there. Just a few more steps! Suddenly, hands flashed down across her face from behind, something clicking around her neck.
A staticky energy crackled through her, numbing her mind and body, dropping her to her knees. “Courtesy of Owen Dunwich,” said the guard behind her. “We are not in the mood to chase you around the city a second time.” Her trembling fingers clawed at the black collar around her neck. It was no use; it wasn’t coming off that easily. “The man traps demons for a living. Didn’t you think he might have a device for just such an occasion?”
She gasped for air, arms flailing uncontrollably as she rolled back and forth across the carpet. The wide-open door just a few feet away taunted her, laughed at her for thinking escape would be so easy. Pressure building in her head, it felt like it was going to split open. “The hunter said the more you fight it, the worse it gets,” said the second guard. “Just try to relax and the pain will subside.”
Her whole body was on fire, acid coursing through her veins, yet she continued to try to fight against it. She pushed back with her mind, trying to take back control of a convulsing body that seemed to no longer be her own. Her resistance was rewarded with the sensation of being struck by lightning over and over. Beaten, she gave in, letting the collar’s magic invade her body. The white-hot pain slowed; her skin, which had been on fire, was now dulled to a pins-and-needles prickle.
“That’s right,” the guard said, helping her back up to her feet. “Better, yes? Look, you might as well accept the fact that you’re not going to get away from him.”
“At least not yet,” she mumbled under her breath. Her knees were weak, but she managed to walk under her own power. The sun on her skin was like a taunting slap across the face. She was supposed to be free at this very moment.
They walked through the street, folk pointing and whispering as they passed. “Witch... black... sorcerer... dead girl,” they whispered. Before long, a slow-moving mob tailed them, the harsh insults growing louder and more assertive. It was the typical bravery associated with a mob, each person feeding off the others’ hate.
A spherical object tumbled over her shoulder and past her ear, causing her to flinch. She pulled her hood forward, shoulders slumped. A second one found its mark, hitting her square in the center of her back. She shrieked, pain radiating between her shoulder blades. “Enough!” yelled a guard, spinning back with a hand on his sword hilt. “All of you, go back to your—” A potato flashed right past his nose, narrowly missing Viola as it skimmed past her chin.
The angry mob was growing out of control. Small rocks, tomatoes, and other objects were being hurled at a regular pace, many of which were being pulled right off the carts of vendors. “Get moving,” urged another guard, giving Viola a shove. “Head for the stables. The sooner you’re out of sight, the sooner this ends.”
They hurried their pace, rocks and vegetables bouncing off the guards’ chainmail. Unprotected, Viola took the brunt of the punishment, feeling each hit across her back and shoulders. Although the pain was gone, the effects of the collar were obvious to her now. Normally she could have outpaced them all easily, but it was as if her legs just wouldn’t respond the same way. She felt as if she were trying to run through waist-high water. The hunter probably used this device when the contract called for the target to be taken in alive.
The stables were just ahead. “Get out of our city!” came another of several threatening shouts from behind. She could see Owen and his apprentice saddling their mounts, basically ignoring the thunderous uproar heading towards them.
“Silence that racket,” Owen said to Xavier, tying the last bag on his lavics. “We have no time for this.” Face shadowed as always, the apprentice silently nodded, then stepped from the stables and out into the street. Facing the advancing mob, he reached back underneath his white cloak, retrieving what looked like two short blades. Each had a leather grip right near its center with the bladed ends slightly curled.
He clanged them together, each suddenly sprouting an additional blade, making them look more like bladed wheels. He snapped his wrists, Viola and the four guards sliding past him just as he released. Spinning through the air, they whistled with a piercing hiss, soaring right over the tops of everyone’s heads. Hooking in mid-flight, they glided back to Xavier, who effortlessly snatched them from the air. The warning shot was obvious. He could have killed a dozen in one shot had he chosen to.
The mob stopped in its tracks, staring at the cloaked figure. Face shadowed, emotionless, he began stalking towards them, lightly tapping his bladed wheels together with each step. Outnumbering the stranger sixty-to-one, they still fumbled over each other, trying to back away.
“Stop this madness at once!” Liam boomed, sliding out from the back of a wagon. Viola gasped when she saw him appear, a mix of hope and relief swirling inside her. For the moment at least, it seemed as if he’d kept his promise to her.
Xavier stopped his slow advance, sliding his weapons back under his cloak. He turned and stalked back towards his horse as Liam raced out into the street.
“What is the matter with all of you?” Liam asked pleadingly. A few folk still holding rocks dropped them to the ground, eyes shying away. “I’ve known you all for most of your lives, yet I’ve never seen you display such hate. You called for the head of Hyndrid Coleth, a great man and friend to us all. Now you want to see a young girl die because she looks different than you? Where does it end?!”
Liam pointed to a wiry man with thinning brown hair. “Tendle, I knew you when you were only knee high,” he said, holding an open hand near his lower leg. “If your father had lived to see y
ou now, what would he say?” The man looked down, avoiding Liam’s accusing eyes.
“Miranda,” he continued, gesturing at a plump girl with short blonde hair and a flowery dress. “How many times did you come crying to me because the other children picked on you because of your limp? I comforted you, reassuring you there was nothing wrong with being different. And now you’ve joined up with this bloodthirsty mob, intent on hurting someone who has done nothing to you?” Beginning to weep, she, too, looked away.
Liam sighed, glancing back to the stable where the others were waiting. “I don’t recognize a one of you anymore,” he scolded, before heading towards his waiting party. “I don’t recognize this city anymore,” he whispered to himself.
Viola waited in the back of the hooded wagon, feet dangling over the edge. Futilely, she kept tugging at her collar, eyeing Liam as he approached. “It’s only for the time being,” he assured her, gently guiding her hands away from it.
“You came back for me,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. Even having no idea what was to become of her, his presence alone made her feel much better about the situation.
“Of course I did,” he replied with a wink. “I always keep my promises.”
He made his way to the front of the wagon and climbed up into the double seat. Giving the reins a snap, the horses began pulling the wagon. Slow at first, it wobbled from side to side with the uneven road. With Owen and Xavier taking the lead, they were on their way.
Viola watched the crowd, angry glares fixed on her, until she could no longer see their faces. Before she knew it, the city itself was nothing but a speck off in the distance. She didn’t know where they were going, or what would happen to her once they got there. Only one thing felt certain in her heart: She was never coming back to Redwater...
