Tainted Blood Anthology

by Jeff Gunzel

  Chapter 16

  Having to shoulder their way through, Lindsey and Xavier pushed their way towards the source of commotion. At the center of it all was an old woman, sitting in the middle of the road with her face buried in her hands. “They’re coming! They’re coming!” she moaned, rocking back and forth. It was unclear whether or not she was speaking to anyone in particular, or if she had even noticed the bustling crowd that had formed around her.

  Xavier dropped down to one knee in front of her. “What are you talking about?” he asked. “Who is coming?” She shivered when he put his hand on her shoulder, turning abruptly to meet his gaze. She looked terrified. Xavier looked around questioningly, trying to get some indication from the others gathered around as to who he was dealing with here. Was she the town crazy? Was he just wasting his time in trying to comfort her? But they looked just as perplexed as he did. Either they didn’t know her or had never seen her act like this before.

  “White men,” she whispered, resuming her mindless rocking while holding herself, shivering. Xavier’s head snapped back around to face her directly. “Hairless, white men. Pink eyes. They’re coming. They’re coming.” Crazy or not, her detailed description couldn’t possibly be just a random guess. Somewhere, somehow, she had definitely seen the ghatins, and if they were indeed coming...

  Xavier rose to his feet, head darting around as the townsfolk looked on in confusion. “What is she talking about?” Lindsey asked, an obvious tremor in her voice. Seeing some woman acting crazy was one thing, but seeing fear in Xavier’s eyes was something else entirely. She didn’t even think he was capable of feeling fear.

  “Get everyone indoors,” he said. He was not only speaking to Lindsey, but to everyone in the immediate area as well. “Did you not hear me?” he shouted when no one moved. “We are under attack! Get back to your homes and barricade the doors.”

  “Xavier!” Lindsay shouted as townsfolk suddenly scattered, jostling her all around as she fought not to get swept in the flow. “You’re scaring me. What are you talking—”

  He rushed up and placed a hand over her mouth. “There is no time to explain. I just need you to trust me on this.” She shook her head, her eyes filled with fear. “Now go, and take her with you.” He helped the shocked woman up to her feet, passing her hand off to Lindsey. “No more questions, just go.”

  Although she still had no idea what was going on, she trusted Xavier. Without another word, she hurried off, leading the woman away. Whatever had frightened this woman so badly seemed to have left her mind feeble and scarred. Following along, she mumbled about nothing, babbling to herself the whole time. At one point she even stopped and looked around, as if wondering where she was all of a sudden. “Let’s go,” Lindsey said softly, gently tugging on her wrist until she began moving again. Yes, her mind was definitely broken beyond repair.

  Word spread quickly, cries of fear mixed with hushed murmurs as folk ran to shelter, grabbing any still standing around in the street who looked confused. Doors slammed and curtains drew shut. Within minutes the place had gone from a lively little village to a ghost town. It was as if all the townsfolk had just disappeared into the sky, all except one. Xavier sat in the middle of the street, legs crossed, eyes closed. And just like that he was all alone.

  Hands resting on his knees, he began to breathe deeply, his mind drifting as his breaths came in long, slow draws. Even with his eyes closed he was perfectly aware of his surroundings. The deathly silence, the lingering fear and panic still hanging in the air like a thick fog, it all merged together into a dark atmosphere he could almost touch. And through it all, he could still sense the silent enemy’s approach. It was an uneasy feeling, akin to being observed from a distance for a long period of time. His body could simply feel the wrongness, the lingering taint in the air.

  Despite his impending doom, Xavier somehow managed to stay calm and focused. His death was approaching, but it was a familiar sensation. An old friend he knew all too well. He would die a warrior’s death, just as he was born to do. There was honor in that. At least his last memories would not be of his failure to protect the one he loved. He would get one last chance at redemption, an opportunity to die protecting those in need. It was an end he would embrace, one he had already made peace with many years ago.

  If Owen could see his fallen student now, he might actually have been proud.

  The gentle winds began to pick up, sending small bits of paper and debris tumbling through the streets. Xavier’s hair flapped in the breeze, his clothes rippling.

  I know you’re here.

  The winds died down as fast as they came, and Xavier slowly opened his eyes to the sight he was already expecting. Before him stood a wall of white, the ghatins’ bodies swaying musically like seaweed on an ocean floor. Elegant, hypnotic, the graceful movements seemed too beautiful for such vile creatures. He noticed that there was no ash anywhere in sight. Silent, like ghosts in the night, they had just appeared out of thin air.

  “What do you want?” Xavier asked. He stood and crossed his arms, his body language nonthreatening yet tensed and alert.

  One of the ghatins smiled, his wide mouth doubling in size as it nearly split his hairless head in half. “You know what we want,” he hissed, his airy voice lingering on the wind like a thousand echoes repeating each other.

  “Yes, of course I do,” Xavier replied, his own grin catching the ghatin off guard. That wasn’t how humans were supposed to react. They were supposed to scream and cry, to drop to their knees and beg for their lives. They hadn’t actually accounted for a human who had already come to terms with his own demise. The threat of death was supposed to drive humans to the brink of madness, not amuse them.

  “You’ve come to purge the humans from this town, and eventually, the entire realm.” The ghatin said nothing, still wondering why this lone human had not yet fled in terror. “But if your objective is to destroy all the humans, it all starts with killing one.” Xavier flexed his fingers, his eyes flashing. “I ask that you allow me the honor!”

  Snapping his hands with a whipping motion, a bloom of steel spiraled through the air. Twisting like a giant tornado, the silver spiral ripped through the ghatins’ front line. White bodies vaporized on contact, instantly turning them to dust. Normal weapons would have passed straight through them, but Xavier’s special alloy-dipped blades had at least some effect. He was able to break them down for short periods of time, but they always came back. Because they were immortal by nearly any standard, Xavier’s only plan was to fight until they overwhelmed him.

  It was to be his last stand. A soldier’s death. An honorable death he would welcome with open arms, embracing it like a long-lost lover.

  Charging through the fray with reckless abandon, Xavier leaped over the first piles of dust to rush the back line. They would reform soon enough and he would have to deal with them again. But for now, it was all about taking out the immediate threats. Daggers spinning around him, obeying the puppet master’s every command, he sent them out wide to strike down the ghatins flanking from both sides. His survival instinct screaming in the back of his mind, it urged him to utilize at least some sort of tactic before he succumbed to his fate. Don’t make it this easy for them. Don’t embrace death so quickly, for it will come soon enough.

  But a wild fury had already taken over his body. No longer fearing death, he was committed to throwing everything behind his reckless attack. Having caught them completely off guard, it seemed to be working so far.

  Xavier ducked and spun as slashing flesh blades whistled past his body, each one seeming to miss its mark by mere inches. Not bothering to block or parry, Xavier kept pushing his offensive onslaught to take out as many as possible. They would get him sooner or later, so why even bother defending? His flashing daggers streaked and slashed, nearly all of them finding a home in white flesh before the beings burst into dust. With each blade appearing to attack independently, it was like having ten trained soldiers fighting at his side.


  Spinning and striking, ducking and rolling beneath flesh blades, Xavier’s confidence began to soar. In showing no fear in his wild assault, he had become a juggernaut of sorts. The ghatins were the most dangerous foe he had ever faced, an immortal race that just kept coming no matter what. But they were largely unskilled, amateurs when it came to battle tactics or working as a team. Xavier’s skill and pinpoint precision were starting to wear them down. Sure, their powdered bodies were reassembling, but not as fast as he was cutting them down.

  Perhaps lady luck would smile on him this day. If his endurance could hold, he just might force them back. They might give up and go in search of easier prey. He could...

  White-hot pain exploded through the back of his leg. Stunned by the blow, his leg buckled under his own weight. A second blast of pain rattled up his thigh when the blade ripped free, sending his head spinning with nausea. The hit was clean and his leg was ruined. With two gaping slashes from where the flesh blade had gone straight through the meat of his thigh, he couldn’t possibly put any weight on it.

  Hopping on one leg, his heart sank like a stone. But this had always been the plan. This was the only way this battle could have ended, wasn’t it? It had only been a matter of time before they gained the upper hand. He had lasted longer than anyone could have expected. So why did it bother him so?

  Somewhere during his furious assault lined with moderate success, his heart had played the cruelest joke imaginable. It gave him hope. He was ready to die, willing to die. But that too was a lie, one he had convinced himself of only to ease the inevitable. He was going to die at the hands of the ghatins, but he didn’t want to. It shamed him to face his true feelings, the feelings of a coward, especially since it wouldn’t change the outcome anyway.

  Xavier roared, a desperate, primal release of emotion. Almost completely immobilized, all he could do was unleash everything he had left. Fingers flicking in mini spasms, his blades whirled about with blinding speed. No longer was he trying to take out individual enemies with pinpoint eye shots. Instead, his blades had become a living dome, a savage blur of whistling steel meant to shred anything that got too close. It was a last-ditch effort to survive this encounter as long as he could.

  Ghatins closed in all around, surrounding the vibrating dome. Already knowing that he couldn’t kill them, at least not permanently, a few rushed fearlessly into the whirling blades. And although their bodies ripped into dust, the force was enough to disrupt the dome for a second or two. Xavier tensed, feeling the pressure radiate down into his twitching fingers. It took enough concentration just to keep the blades in motion without the added strain.

  Flesh blades pierced the dome, each one shattering like glass against the whirling steel. More white bodies threw themselves against it, and those that had already turned to dust were starting to reassemble. It was a never-ending cycle driven by a tireless enemy. How much longer could he cheat death? Sweat pouring down his face, his leg throbbing in agony, his quickly numbing fingers began to falter.

  Xavier caught a white flash from the corner of his eye. For all he knew he was probably losing consciousness and his mind was playing tricks. Two more flashes zipped by, each one leaving behind a white, ghostly trail. One ghatin fell away from the dome, his body convulsing violently with a white dagger protruding from his chest. It shrieked, an earsplitting screech that could have shattered glass. The glowing white dagger faded away like smoke, but the wound kept expanding. The charred black ring spread across its chest as parts of its body bubbled like hot tar. Moments later, the ghatin had melted into a steaming pile of black and white pulp.

  Whatever it was that had hit it was far more effective than Xavier’s weapons. In fact, unless it were to reshape as the others had, it was almost certainly dead. Yes, it was dead! Something was killing them.

  As numbness rode all the way up into his shoulders, Xavier simply couldn’t maintain the bladed dome any longer. The whirling daggers slowed. What was once a quivering shield of transparent silver now looked more like a series of individual daggers zipping around. They were still moving plenty fast, but you could actually see them now. More importantly, they now moved slow enough to be avoided.

  Two more white bolts zipped past, each striking a separate ghatin with the same result. Shrieking in pain, they fell back as the energy daggers seemed to dissolve them from the inside out like acid. Unable to maintain the daggers’ momentum, Xavier’s weary arms fell to his side. Exhausted, he dropped to his knees. Unable to do any more, he glanced back to the source of those energy bolts. But what he saw was impossible. Assirra? There stood the tall tarrin with white daggers drifting in a circle above her head. Ghostly faces appeared and disappeared all around her, their different expressions varying wildly before vanishing into thin air. What was she doing? Why was she here?

  Another blast of pain exploded through the back of his shoulder. He looked down to the white tip protruding from the front of his shoulder. Trying to move that arm only sent waves of agony rippling through his body. Already on one leg, now reduced to one arm, his body had become useless. He couldn’t slay a rabbit in this condition, let alone any more of these creatures. With a weakened grip, he clutched the protruding point with his good hand and made a feeble effort to remove it. But he didn’t have the strength, or the ability to withstand the pain.

  His heart racing, he could feel his pulse pounding in his temples. He didn’t want to die here, not now, not like this. This couldn’t be his destiny. These demons were loose on the world, and he needed to find a way to stop them. How could he have been so selfish? Die with honor? No, that was a coward’s way out. A way to justify the end to his depression and suffering. With renewed strength and effort, he gripped the point again and slammed it back through the other side of the wound. His heard beat like a hammer on stone. Odd that he could be so aware of such a thing at a time like this. It was almost distracting. He rose up on his feet, his leg able to support his weight somehow.

  His heart was a hammer! Was he dying? He could feel each pounding thump in his temples, his neck. But he couldn’t think straight. Everything spun around him as his world spiraled away in a sea of white. Once coherent thoughts were morphing into something chaotic and reckless. They became urges more than thoughts, shapeless primal needs, desires. Anger... Hate... Aggression...

  With his once ruined arm he punched the ground, his tentacle-like hand drilling through the hard ground as easily as a blade cuts air. Erupting from the ground several feet away, the viney brown strands wrapped a nearby ghatin, squeezing his body until it burst into a cloud of white dust. Howling like a wolf, Xavier ripped his withered, shapeless arm from the ground in a spray of rocks and dirt. Driven by an insatiable bloodlust, the beast charged straight into the white wall. Ignoring the flesh blades piercing his body, the animal ripped and tore, his withered brown whips slicing two or three at a time with each pass.

  “Xavier,” Assirra whispered to herself, trying not to lose her concentration as she watched the change happen right before her eyes. It was difficult given the situation, but she had to stay focused. What just happened to Xavier? What had he become? But she couldn’t afford to be distracted by it. If the link to her power were to break, she might not get it back in time. And with enemies all around, losing her power now would prove disastrous at the very least. It was time to put her new abilities to the test.

  All around her, ghostly faces flashed into existence before folding in on themselves. Like a drop of milk dripped into black tea, they rolled and distorted before disappearing altogether. Assirra pulled in their energy, voraciously absorbing it. Her trained body was not a fragile vase for holding water, but an iron cauldron durable enough to hold molten lava. Filled to the point of bursting, she pulled in even more as the ghatins advanced, their flesh blades snapping into form in preparation for dealing with this most annoying tarrin.

  Hands held high, her hair danced about in the breezeless air. White spheres formed above her head, circling around as if hu
ng up on strings. They split in half, forming new ones of equal size before they too split. Doubling and doubling again, the shiny white orbs spun in a wide circle, each one picking up speed as even more were being formed. Two hundred, four hundred, Assirra’s body trembled from the effort and extreme concentration.

  The ghatins stopped their advance and watched uneasily. They had already gotten a taste of what this creature could do, and this time she was commanding many more of these energy objects. Sweat running down her face, body quivering, she whirled around and snapped her hands in a whipping motion. Like a school of startled fish, the spheres darted away towards the white men. Elongating in midair, they stretched out to form glowing daggers. In a streaking wave of sparkling white, they washed over the ghatins, many getting run through by ten or more. But even those who got struck by just one met the same fate.

  Many of the blades ripped clean through their bodies, even striking others standing behind them. But the clean wounds reacted immediately in the form of smoldering black skin. Whether they were hit between the eyes or a non-vital body part, the dead’s energy proved to be utterly toxic to the ghatins. Neither was from this world, and in essence they cancelled each other out.

  Of the handful who didn’t get hit, they decided quickly that they wanted no part of this shadow mage. Until now, except against the lerwicks, they believed they were immortal against all other races. They were wrong. The few that remained slipped away, silently disappearing into the night.

  Exhaustion hitting like a boulder, Assirra dropped to her hands and knees. Her vision was blurred and she couldn’t catch her breath. Clothes damp with sweat, she began to crawl towards Xavier, who was also lying on the ground a short ways away. She stopped crawling long enough to throw up right there in the street. After a third round, she began to wonder if the sickness would ever stop. Her body was so taxed that it took some serious effort not to pass out.