White hot pain exploded from her ankle. She cried out. Rolled to the floor and clenched her jaw.
Cold steel kissed her neck. The man now straddled her, his knife at her throat.
She met dark brown eyes, didn't dare swallow as the knife pinched her skin.
TWENTY
Marceline
“Ludovic!—Ludovic, stop!”
Marceline's breath stuck in her throat as cruel eyes bore into her own. The man straddling her—Ludovic—bristled at the shrill call. Pressed the blade firmly to her throat.
“It's not them—we've got the wrong people! There was never any mention of a human, or a...thrall...”
“She's not a thrall.” Ludovic spat back, flinging the knife to the ground.
Silver clattered near Marceline's right ear. She flinched. Thought of taking the blade, stabbing Ludovic.
“I know her, Ludovic! Listen to the vampire—,”
“Yes—we didn't come here to fight!” Katell called from across the room, “Robin, let up.”
Marceline heard a grunt before a heavy body fell to the floor.
Ludovic's breath hissed through flared nostrils.
With her heart pounding in her ears, Marceline slapped her splayed hand to Ludovic's face and pushed—screaming, “Get off me!”
The floorboards creaked as Remy pushed herself from the ground and raced towards Ludovic and Marceline. Grabbing Ludovic by the shoulders, she pulled at his cloak. Attempted to lift him off of Marceline, only for him to turn and shoo her hands away.
With a grunt, he shoved himself to standing. Left Marceline alone.
She stood, fists clenched.
“You're lucky.” he told her matter-of-factly, his voice suddenly soft.
Biting the inside of her cheek, the knife flashed before her again. This time, it was just a vision. A ghost.
She had almost lost her life...again.
“Yeah.” she agreed, grumbling.
“Marceline...” Remy murmured, her calloused hand brushing Marceline's shoulder, “...it's nice to see you again under better...circumstances...”
Marceline pursed her lips. Nodded in the larger woman's direction.
From across the inn, Katell reverted back to her human self. She gripped Robin by the forearm as the larger of Remy's companions stared at Ludovic with obvious disdain.
“We ain't doing anything about these monsters?” the large man rumbled.
“They aren't our problem—Remy's right.” Ludovic said, shaking his head.
Robin narrowed his eyes, bucking against Katell's firm grip, “You're only saying that 'cause you know we'd kill you. Gut every one of you. Drink your blood and leave you for dead. How dare you attack us!”
“Watch it,” Katell murmured, pulling Robin back, “you know who patrols these woods...”
Marceline took a step forward, “So, you'll leave us alone, then?”
Ludovic slid his gaze over his shoulder. Met her eyes with a smirk, “No one hunts humans, girl. But hetaera...they'll always be hunted.” he hissed, snapping his gaze to Katell, “If you've got any wits about you, you'll be gone by the morning, demon.”
Robin growled—the sound low and guttural.
Beside Marceline, Remy jumped.
“Let them go, Robin.” Katell whispered, placating them, “We'll be gone. We don't want trouble.”
“Good to hear.” Ludovic replied, “Aldric!” he called before venturing up the stairs with Remy's large comrade at his back.
When doors slammed, Katell met Marceline's eyes before leading Robin up the stairs.
And they were alone, Remy and Marceline. Save for the innkeeper who shivered beneath the counter top of the bar.
Gripping the wide back of a chair, Remy yanked it out. Opened a hand towards the empty oval table near the hearth, “Seat?” she shrugged, still trembling from the earlier battle.
Marceline mimicked the gesture, her eyelids suddenly heavy. Gingerly, she took the seat opposite.
Fishing into the deep pockets of her bloodied breeches, Remy pulled out a deck of cards.
Marceline found herself stifling a chuckle, “You could be bleeding to death—and somehow, I knew this would be coming.”
Remy flashed a crooked smile. Tossed her flaming hair from her face, “So, you remember?” she giggled, “It's not true, then? That failed Bann recruits are forgotten? Erased from history by the Masters?”
Marceline bristled at the mention. Thumped an elbow to the table and rested her head in her hand, “No,” she sighed, “it's absolutely not.”
Remy and Kafka. Twins. Twin sisters. Twin fighters. Some time ago, when Marceline was just a simple orphan trying to find her purpose in life, the three had shared a tiny chamber at the Bann. All touting the title of, “recruit”. When a day was particularly hard, their daily exercises stifling as they worked in thick humidity of the bog that surrounded their training grounds; Remy, Kafka, and Marceline would stay up in their off time, despite being exhausted. Playing card games till the sun rose. Fata Morgana their game of choice.
They were twins in everything they did. From their fighting styles, to the way they wore their hair. When Kafka failed training, Remy followed suit. Both girls leaving the Bann under the dark cover of night.
They were her only friends at the time. The only other girls slogging their way through recruit training. When they left...
Desertion at the Bann wasn't unheard of, but leaving the fortress without the clearance of the Masters was.
“You remember how to play?”
Marceline cocked her head, watching the deck as Remy split it, “Played it with that vampire.”
Remy gasped lightly, “Why are you with them? If you don't mind me asking. Aren't you supposed to be taking care of the Savatiers? Where have they gone?”
Marceline's eyes flashed.
She had almost forgotten about the political importance of her charge. Almost forgot about how Remy worked with her charge's enemy. How the woman had tried to kidnap her. Question her. Fling her out of a window.
We aren't little girls anymore.
“Those days of us staying up till the sun rose...playing Fata Morgana, Remy,” Marceline leaned in, lowering her voice, “they're over. We aren't friends anymore.”
She contemplated lying.
“I know what you're thinking.” Remy finally said, snatching a card from the top of her deck and placing it face down, “That I'm against you—that I want to kill your charge—that day when Kafka and I tried to take you...we were trying to save you Marceline. The Bann is...”
Marceline flipped her top card. Slammed it to the table face and turned it over.
“Merde...” Remy hissed, turning over her card only to hand it over to Marceline, “...you always had the best luck at this...”
The Bann is what? Marceline wanted to ask, but decided to hold her tongue as she stole a glance at Remy's eyes.
The girl was concentrating, losing herself in the game.
Maybe Marceline should let herself get lost too.
Taking another card from the top of her deck, Remy flipped it. Cursed again as Marceline took that card as well.
“Figures you'd start with a major card! Death!” Remy grumbled, shaking her head, “Maybe you should get your own deck.”
They continued, cards flipping, both women losing cards and forking them over to the winner.
“Why are you here?” Marceline finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“We're Spears now, Spears of the Sun, me and Kafka. Though we aren't in the same field group.” licking her upper lip, Remy slammed another card to the table. She hissed a, “Yes!” before snatching Marceline's upturned card, “Safrana's eastern citadel is going hungry—literally starving because farmers aren't prepared for this chill. We've been in a perpetual summer for decades—and now, all of a sudden...”
Remy shrugged, handed over her card to Marceline, “...you know the stories. No more magic. No more summer. Had something to do with a contaminated crux or some
thing—but Safrana's largest vineyard has been reporting some problems and,”
Wood boards creaked as the innkeeper stood, still muttering. Trembling.
To their left, the hearthfire crackled.
“Well, we've come to check it out. The vineyard keeper reports that monsters are not only killing his workers, but destroying the vineyard—have you ever heard of that, Marce? He swore—the monsters weren't eating his stock, but simply destroying it. Setting it on fire. He also swore that there were just two.”
“Two?” Marceline asked, sliding her weaker card over to Remy, “How would he have known that?”
“Well that's a good question...the survivors of the attacks, what's left of his workers, said the same. Two. Humanoid. Pitching flame and killing people. If the attacks aren't stopped, the entire eastern citadel will starve once winter hits with full force. So we came out to help.”
“Ah,” Marceline murmured, her collection of Remy's weaker cards growing into a teetering stack, “good luck, then.”
“Well, see, that's the thing—would you...help us? Of course, if you aren't seriously busy. We could use the extra power. If it's truly non-humans doing this—we need all of the help we can get. You saw how those hetaera hit us—if that woman hadn't called for peace, we'd all be bloody corpses on the floor right now.”
Help them? Marceline eyed Remy carefully.
Merde...she needed something to do. Maybe this could be it, saving a vineyard from some brigands. Maybe this could be it.
She thought about it. Pursed her lips.
“Is what you're doing out here, for the Savatiers, important?”
“It's none of your damned business.” Marceline snapped.
Remy threw up her hands, “Okay, okay—I know when I've hit a wall, alright? No more questions—just a plea, will you help us?”
So deep in their card game and conversation, they hadn't noticed the innkeeper suiting up for battle. Pulling on a white cotton surcoat, the pint-sized woman placed a silver pot over her ruddy forehead. Brandishing a rolling pin in her right hand, she sighed heavily, muttered a quick prayer to the Fates and approached the women's table.
“You lot need to leave!” she sputtered, poking her rolling pin at both women, “All of you!” she screeched, “Now!”
Remy and Marceline eyed her evenly.
“Or—or I'll,” she swallowed audibly, trembling slightly, “—I'll set all your horses free! I'll call the Champions! I've seen the warrant for that man and—,”
Remy leapt from her seat, snatched the cards from the table and pocketed them, “Fine—fine. Just keep quiet—I'll pay you double what we're giving you if you just let us leave in the morning!”
Marceline stood as well, brow furrowed, “A warrant for who?”
Remy spoke over her, “Triple! I'll pay you triple!”
“No!” the innkeep screeched, the rotund little woman going red as a tomato, “Leave—now! Or I'm going out there and screaming for them!”
THEY READIED THEIR mounts under the cover of darkness, Remy chattering on nonstop. Explaining to Ludovic about the new addition to their party. Marceline kept pace with Katell and Robin, unsure of how to say goodbye to them. When Katell offered Marceline a hand up into the saddle, Marceline took it with hesitation.
Even the vampires opted to leave, frightened of the innkeeper sicking the Champions, fabled monster hunters of the Rose, on them. Robin muttered stories of how the Champions took down griffins and drakes. They prided themselves in their ability to hunt and skewer non-humans for the safety of all of humanity. Their prejudice made Robin sick.
Marceline stood at a crossroads. Leave to the Brandys with Katell and Robin—her saviors, the very people who brought her back from the brink. Or, leave with Remy and the Spears of the Sun. One of the men holding a sizable warrant on his head. Marceline could easily guess who.
The party moved away from the Djinn's Arms Inn together, venturing through the forest until the inn's stone smoke stack became one with the dark stygian trees.
Sliding from Katell's saddle, Marceline made her choice as the group came to a gradual stop.
Soft fingers fluttered through her hair, flicked at her cheek. Marceline looked up, “I never even got your name, little hellcat.” Katell murmured, smiling as Robin steered his sable horse around them. Cutting off Remy and the prying eyes of her group, “What may I call you?”
“Marceline.” she murmured softly, grasping Katell's outstretched hand. She clasped it firmly, shook it, “Thank you, Katell, for saving my life. You asked me how I would use my second chance, and this is it.” she said, letting Katell's hand go, “I'm going to use it to help others.”
“You're different—but I knew you were a good one,” taking the reigns of her horse in both hands, Katell softly kneed the animal into a slow trot. “See you soon, Marceline.” she called over her shoulder.
Robin gripped the reigns of his horse—but hesitated. Looking down, emerald eyes met Marceline's. He nodded curtly, snow white hair brushing over his slender shoulder.
And he left, following Katell.
Both broke into a breakneck sprint and vanished down the dark dirt path.
Marceline hoped they wouldn't get caught by the Champions. She hoped she truly would see them again.
A massive warhorse clopped to Marceline's side. Ludovic's hand reached for her, palm up.
Marceline took it without hesitation. Grasping it with a solid grip, she hefted herself into the saddle. She sat behind him, legs tight to the horse's sides.
Her mind was made up. She'd protect others again, with a duty to herself and her needs.
She was no longer an Agent of the Bann—no longer Reine's protector.
Lucius, Gerard, and all the others...maybe I'll see you again someday.
Maybe.
The horses trotted. Cantered. Broke into a wind whipping gallop.
TWENTY-ONE
Marceline
Before them, Aldric pointed. Fingers stark against the bruised sky, “Orange on the horizon, Ludovic.” he grasped the air with his fingers. Worked his thumb against his forefinger, “Fresh soot. Smell it?”
“Smoke.” Remy breathed, slapping a hand to her nose, “Fire—,” she coughed as the horses came to a jeering halt.
Marceline swallowed. Her throat suddenly dry and rough.
“Follow the flame, then.” Ludovic whispered, his voice booming in his chest, “It's what we came here for.”
STYGIAN TREES BROKE to reveal a massive vineyard, its twisting vines and branches covered by a blanket of night and growing fire. Orange tinted their leaves, fire crackling and hissing as scarlet flames crawled opposite of the forest. At the vineyard's very back.
They slid from their horses. Securing them to the trees behind them, they approached the vineyard, eying the far away flame as it stabbed at the night sky. Painting it alight with orange piercing through scarlet.
Entering one of the many rows of vines and trees, they skulked up the long pathway of dirt and brush, smoke scratching at their senses the closer they came to the flame.
Humanoid silhouettes danced against the fire, their forms tiny.
Ludovic halted the group with a hand.
“Remy,” he whispered, “bring out the bestiary.”
Unhooking a large tome from the back of her belt, Remy slapped a leather bound book to the ground, “What am I looking for?”
Her question was met with silence.
Marceline bit the inside of her cheek, were they here for these silhouettes? On the journey to the vineyard, the home of Remy and her cohorts' current employer, Remy had clued Marceline in on what they were doing at the Inn. Originally, the vineyard keep hadn't been able to supply them with rooms at his estate while they staked out the monsters sabotaging his crop. According to Ludovic, they had been unfortunate to run into Marceline and her hetaera friends, yet fortune enough to recruit an agent of the Bann onto their side.
Former agent.
Aldric huffed, his breat
h hissing through his nostrils as white steam.
“Blighter...sun wraith...and corpse eater.” Ludovic mused, eyes on the tiny silhouettes.
“Fire's coming from them.” Aldric remarked.
They can't be human, Marceline decided, her brow furrowing.
“Found 'em.”
“Which can control flame? Have their own will—some sort of intelligence?”
Remy licked her lips. Flipped back and forth through worn yellow pages, “Sun wraiths and corpse-eaters, though both require some sort of motive. Wraiths like their homes warm. Corpse eaters like to...well, eat...”
“And the blighters?”
“Immune to flame. Though they require no motive to attack.”
Ludovic nodded, “Right.” he turned, “Marceline, ready to put your skills to work?”
Now was no time to hesitate. To muse and think on things. What I know is enough...
For now.
Marceline cut her gaze from the silhouettes. Met Ludovic's eyes, “Yeah.”
Aldric stepped between the two, “I'll do it, boss. I'll go see what they are.”
“Scout ahead.” Ludovic commanded, still meeting Marceline's eyes. “If you're to be one of us.”
Aldric bristled, “Really? You're going to trust her with this? She could muss up the entire operation! Let me—,”
Ludovic's eyes were cold. His gaze pierced through Aldric's words, silencing him with a look.
Aldric rolled his eyes, “Fine.”
“I'll need a weapon.” Marceline snapped.
Sliding a dagger from her belt, Remy placed cold steel into Marceline's hands, “Use it well. Come back alive.”
Marceline met her eyes. Nodded.
“You know what you're looking for?”
Turning to Ludovic, Marceline slipped the dagger's sharp edge beneath her own belt, “Melted green skin for a blighter, sheet white body for a sun wraith.”
Ludovic nodded. Slipped a smile, “Good. Don't attack. Get a good look and report back. Tell us what they are.”
Marceline almost returned the smile—but stopped herself. This wasn't Lucius she was receiving orders from—a friend and mentor. No, this was a stranger. Someone whose merit rested on Remy's broad shoulders.
Blade and Soul Page 13
