Tainted Blood Anthology

by Jeff Gunzel

  Liam put his hand on Xavier’s shoulder, about to offer words of comfort, before he pulled away and went sprinting towards the horses nearby. “Xavier!” Liam called. He watched helplessly as Xavier mounted a horse and galloped away, giving chase to the ravens, who were almost completely out of sight by this time.

  “Don’t waste your breath, Liam,” said Owen, limping up from behind. His wounds were superficial, but there were many of them. “You saw that look in the boy’s eyes. The gods themselves won’t be able to stop him.”

  Liam sighed as he watched the coil of rising dust trailing behind Xavier’s horse. “May the gods smile upon you, lad,” he whispered. “Falling in love can be a blessing or a curse. I dare not venture a guess as to which this shall prove to be.”

  *

  “Over here!” Owen called out to the others as he carried Thatra in his arms. He laid her down on the soft grass, her side wet with blood. “Assirra, she needs you,” he grunted, pointing down at the fallen girl. “Hurry!” Looking unsure, Assirra knelt down and laid her hands on Thatra’s chest. She mumbled a few words, opening and closing her eyes as if checking for something. Finally, she pulled her hands away and shook her head.

  “I-I don’t feel him,” she said. “I can’t feel his presence anymore!”

  “Step aside,” Liam said, kneeling down to take her spot. He had the ability to heal, but could not bring back the dead. Luckily, she was still breathing, if just barely. After a few mumblings of his own, her raspy breaths began to smooth and deepen. When her eyes cracked open, Liam quickly assured her she was all right and just needed to rest for now. He rubbed her shoulder and looked up, but Assirra was gone.

  Walking down the hill, Assirra carefully stepped over body after body. The aftermath of this battle was horrible, yet she was somehow numb to all the death surrounding her. She stopped and looked at her hands, her useless hands. All this death around her yet she could not bring back a single person this day. Or probably any other day. “Why, Odao?” she whispered, staring down at those ordinary hands that had performed so many miracles in the past. “Why have you abandoned me?”

  Bodies all around, she dropped to her knees and sobbed.

  Epilogue

  Viola’s hair whipped in the wind as she rode, both hands wrapped tightly around Salina. More than once she had made the mistake of looking down, only to regret it immediately. “Where are we going?” Viola shouted over the rushing wind.

  Salina glanced back, still wearing a relieved smile even after all they had been through. Even though her face was different now, her eyes still seemed familiar somehow. The change in her appearance no longer seemed so drastic. If one’s eyes were truly a window into their soul, then there could be no doubt: This was the same motherly figure who had been by Viola’s side this whole time.

  “You asked me once if I trusted you,” Salina said. “Well, now I’m asking you the same thing.”

  “I do,” Viola answered without hesitation.

  Salina turned to face forward again. The sun was setting and the sky was turning dark orange. From up here, the scene was breathtaking. “Where are we going?” she repeated, brushing her flapping hair from her eyes. “To a place where both you and I can find some answers.”

  *

  “Just a little further. I’m certain of it.”

  “But what if you’re wrong? What if they were lying? What if it’s not true and we came all this way for nothing? What if—”

  “Stop that! It has to be true!” The woman shook the map in her hand. “It has to be,” she repeated softly.

  The two women inched along a narrow ledge, backs flat up against the mountain. “It’s just over there,” said the taller woman, pointing across to another ledge. High up as they were, the wind howled, weighing against their bodies, threatening to push them off the edge. They each looked down, seeing the scattered boulders hundreds of feet below. No one could survive a fall such as this.

  “I’ll go first,” said the shorter woman, measuring her jump. The second ledge was at least fifteen feet away. She rubbed her hands together and jumped. Within the first few feet she was already beginning to fall. Her body twisted in midair, erupting into a funnel of liquid black. Birds began to caw, spinning and flapping as the funnel gently set down on the other side. Seconds later, a similar black funnel settled next to her, then reshaped itself back into her friend. “All right, let’s go this way.”

  A short walk around to the other side of the ledge led them to an open cave, seemingly carved into the mountainside. “That’s it!” said the taller woman, shaking the crumpled map in one hand. They could see the opening was guarded by two figures. Both cloaked, it was impossible to see their faces. The women approached cautiously, ready to run away if necessary. Humans had proved to be less than tolerant of their kind.

  When they came into view, the first cloaked figure drew back his hood. A pale face with black lips smiled back at them. They were so relieved they wanted to cry. “Welcome,” he said, motioning for them to come closer. The other man drew back his hood, revealing similar features on another smiling face. “I know you must be tired and hungry after your journey, but there is someone you must speak with first. Follow me.”

  He led them through the cave. There were mismatched pieces of furniture, old tables and chairs that didn’t belong together. Everywhere they looked, pale faces with red eyes smiled back at them. There had to be at least fifty just in this area alone. “I suppose you two thought you were alone in this world,” he said. Both women sobbed with happiness, unable to answer.

  “That’s what we all thought before we found each other, before he found us. This great man has brought us together, but you must stand before him and be judged before you can stay.”

  They entered a large chamber, the walls decorated with paintings. A large man sat on a chair near the back, his hands folded on his lap. He looked up with a grin, rising from his seat when he saw them. “Two more?” he asked cheerfully, opening his arms invitingly.

  “Welcome,” said Orm’rak. “I do believe you two have found a place to call home.”

  Winds

  of

  Chaos

  By

  Jeff Gunzel

  Copyright 2015 Jeff Gunzel

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Books by Jeff Gunzel

  The Legend of the Gate Keeper Series

  The Shadow

  Land of Shadows

  Siege of Night

  Lost Empire

  Reborn

  The Trials of Ashbarn

  End of Days

  Tainted Blood Series

  A Rip in Time

  Of Blood and Blade

  Winds of Chaos

  A Rising Storm

  Blood of the Fallen

  Legacy

  Prologue

  Stepping out through the temple doors, a light breeze caught Assirra’s face, cooling the sweat on her forehead and neck. Early as it was, colorful birds in the treetops still sang their songs, determined to wake every tarrin in the village of Eldham. Already, the forest was coming alive. But many were already up and working on the morning meal. After a long stretch, she brought her hand down to her mouth, stifling a yawn. Rest had not come easy as of late, and she was feeling the effects this morning.

  Heavy eyelids betrayed her attempt to hide her fatigue as she forced a smile, waving at her brothers and sisters down below. Descending the steps around the boxa tree, her legs felt heavy, each labored step making her feel aged beyond her years. Distracted, her mind whirled with pressing matters beyond her control—an exercise in futility, to be sure, but she couldn’t help herself
. So much had changed as of late.

  After reaching the bottom, she made her way towards the rows of tables pushed together. As usual, they would all enjoy a morning breakfast before starting their day. Face muscles straining to maintain her smile, Assirra rounded the first table, touching shoulders in silent acknowledgment while making her way to its head. As usual, sliced fruit and pitchers of juice were laid out in an array of color. To the eyes of a human, it may well have appeared too beautiful to disturb. But these orderly, artistic meals were nothing new to the tarrins.

  “Brothers, sisters,” she said, raising a glass in toast. “Once again we give thanks to Odao and all his blessings on this fine morning. Once again I awaken, even though this day was never promised to me, and I may look upon your smiling faces knowing each breath is a blessing.” Glasses were raised to whispers of “Odao,” a few stronger voices rising up above the others. “And let us not forget our human friends as they embark on their journey. Keep them in your prayers and close to your hearts, for I know that Odao will watch over them as well.” Far less enthusiastic grumbles resonated around the tables, a few outright scoffing at the unpopular premise of this morning’s prayer.

  Assirra’s lips tightened at the cool response, her eyes skillfully singling out the most vocal among them. “Odao’s patience has no limits,” she said, her eyes squarely focused on one individual. “So I shall do my best to lead by his example. Sister Rhendal, please speak your mind so we may all be enlightened by your wisdom.”

  With pasty white eyes so perfectly round that they looked more like a doll’s, the lean tarrin slowly rose to her feet. “I meant no disrespect, Assirra,” she said with a slight nod.

  “And yet disrespect is exactly what you’ve shown me,” Assirra replied, her tone calm and even. “So why don’t you share your thoughts with us so we might understand why you felt the need to interrupt our morning prayer?”

  The wide-eyed tarrin’s green skin appeared to turn crimson as she cleared her throat. “High Cleric, it’s just that not all of us share your views regarding these...humans.” A slap on the table here and there, followed by more than a few nods, seemed to support her claim. “Never have we meddled in the affairs of humans, yet they came into our world bringing with them the trouble and violence they are renowned for. Brothers and sisters have died for them, and still you sing their praises as if they were one of us. I wish to remind you that they are not of our world.”

  Rhendal lowered her head, as if unsure of how much explanation would be too much. “Although blood has been spilled, it is over now, and I don’t wish to live in the past. But why must we continue to be reminded daily of the ruin they left behind? They are gone now and that’s fine with us.” More grumbles of agreement resonated around the tables. “Why can’t we just move on with our lives and forget about those nasty creatures?”

  Assirra smiled at her, holding Rhendal’s gaze an uncomfortably long time until she had to look away. Even then, at least another minute passed before she spoke. “Indeed, we can move on with our lives,” she said at length. “For you see, with each passing day that those nasty creatures manage to keep Viola alive, they provide you all with yet another day in which to eat,” she flicked a grape from the bowl in front of her, sending it rolling across the table, “sleep, pray, breathe, and even criticize those who have done nothing but help you.” Tarrins shifted in their seats, eyes dropping.

  “Of course, helping the tarrins was never the humans’ goal,” Assirra continued. “And still, the entire realm benefits from their tireless efforts. They did not come here to inconvenience us; they came for our help when there was nowhere left to turn. And help them we did,” she said in a softer tone. “For that, I couldn’t be more proud. I am not asking any of you to sacrifice any more than you already have. My request is a simple one: Keep them in your hearts and wish them well on their journey, for the price we’ve paid is but a fraction of what lies before them.” She dipped her head, arms rising from her sides. “That is all I ask, nothing more.”

  Without another word she retook her seat and all began to eat in an uncomfortable silence. But for Assirra, the silence was welcome, for her mind was elsewhere. She was not in the mood for conversation or any other distractions this morning. Even the scolding speech she was forced to give barely registered anymore. Already if felt like an old memory, something that had happened months ago.

  Once the meal had concluded, Assirra rose from her seat and headed towards the trail leading into the forest. A few questioning glances were flashed in her direction, but no one said anything as she disappeared into the greenery. The High Cleric had been acting strangely as of late, wandering off whenever she felt like without any explanation. For the most part, they decided to just let her strange behavior run its course. She, like the rest of them, had gone through a trying time. Sooner or later she would be her old self again.

  After a time, Assirra stopped and glanced around to make sure she hadn’t been followed. She gazed back down the trail, searching for even the slightest hint of movement. Once certain, she stepped off the trail, slipping her way between two bushes. Wincing, she pressed through slowly, feeling their spiny thorns drag across her skin. Low-hanging branches rustled about at her feet, no doubt a family of surprised rabbits scurrying off. Scratched and further irritated, she nearly fell when stumbling out through the other side of the bushes. “Where are you?” she whispered, glancing left and right.

  Slinking out from the other side of the small clearing came Jarlen, creeping along on his backside like some crab on a beach. She cast out her hand, sending an apple tumbling towards his feet. He snatched it and bit it in a single motion. A moment later he was assaulted by several more tossed fruits. Juice dripping from his chin as he gorged, he glanced up. “Is this all you brought me?” he asked boldly. Assirra quickly covered the distance between them, then blasted his cheek with a backhand. He turned back to meet her glare, flashing an open-mouthed grin with a mouthful of apple.

  “I should have just let you starve,” she hissed. “But even that wouldn’t make up for the things you’ve done!”

  He rolled his eyes, spitting out what little bit he still had in his mouth. “We’ve already been through this!” he protested. “How many times must I explain myself? I didn’t have a choice. It was either her or me.”

  “Then it should have been you!” she roared, kicking leaves and dirt across his legs. Jarlen flinched and looked away. Raising a yellow fruit to his lips, he changed his mind and tossed it aside. Starving a minute ago, he had suddenly lost his appetite.

  “I know,” he admitted softly, mostly to himself. “But how was I to know? I’ve been locked up like an animal for the better part of a decade. I suppose I have you to thank for that.” This time Assirra dropped her eyes. “It’s not like her importance to the ghatins was common knowledge, even less to a slave forbidden to see the light of day. If I had known—”

  “If you had known, nothing would have changed!” Assirra cut him off. “Because that’s the kind of man you are: greedy, violent, and small. You would have sold your sister for a mug of ale!” She continued speaking right over his attempted protest. “Two days... Two days and I want you gone from here. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

  “Where will I go?” he said with a dejected sigh.

  “What do I care?! Go live in the forest like some kind of animal. Go jump in a river and see where the current takes you. But whatever you do, you must do it soon. Two days!” she repeated, turning to leave. She wiped a tear from her cheek, thankful he hadn’t seen it. “I can’t believe I ever loved you,” she whispered to herself.

  Chapter 1

  Laughter radiated throughout the smoke-filled room. Frosty mugs clanked together, ale splashing up and over their sides. Topless barmaids held trays of mugs above their heads, inching their way across the crowded tavern. The energy was wild tonight, far beyond anything that had been seen in years.

  Liam turned at the sound of shattered glass. Ign
oring the broken mug at his feet, the man at the corner table spun a passing girl down onto his lap. His fingers raked down the front of her dress, spraying buttons across the floor. She squealed as her breasts popped free, though made only a halfhearted effort to cover herself. Patrons around them whistled and shouted, urging the man on as he groped away. She leaned back into his chest, allowing him to suckle her nipple.

  All but ignoring the man latched to her breast, she leaned back across the table and began kissing another man. Seeing her engaged with two men, more moving in to get in on the action, Liam sighed and looked away. This was obviously going to get worse before it got better. It was clear that the local patrons wouldn’t be easily contained this night.

  And it wasn’t just this particular tavern having some sort of private celebration. The whole city had come alive with the news. Yet another creature, just like the one they had watched for years, had recently been discovered. A female no less. What did this mean? Was she a killer just like the other one was? The king had made no secret of his discovery, so it could only be assumed she would be used in the same way. The city of Shadowfen buzzed like a living entity, its energy reaching new heights that bordered on chaos.

  Lethargic, beaten, standing out among the wild energy of the tavern, the group sat in silence at their lone table. How had this happened? What was she thinking? What had they done to lose her trust and make her run off like that? Had a third party whispered in her ear, casting doubts about their otherwise honest intentions? If so, who would have done such a thing? These, among a slew of other questions, blazed through their minds. But one burning question rose up above all others: What could be done about it now?

  Sleepy-eyed, Xavier fumbled around to get a grasp of his half-full mug. Easily within reach, he groped at its cool, damp side before his fingers finally grasped the handle. Tipping it back too quickly, the frosty ale splashed against his lips while only a modest amount managed to get inside his mouth. Most of the beverage ran down his neck. With a heavy swallow, he raised it a second time before ever putting it down. Oddly, it seemed to drift back down onto the table of its own accord. His sleepy eyes glared at two fingers pressing down in his wrist.