"We could set a few houses on fire."
"WHAT?"
"That might actually work," Azalea chimed in. "That one near the base of the path and then a few houses leading away from it. The guards would leave their posts to handle a bunch of house fires."
"Wait a minute, we can't just go around lighting buildings on fire. People could get hurt or killed." Azalea looked at him blankly again, and Ean could feel Zin's gaze. "Listen, there has to be another way. Maybe we should come back to that. Zin, how much time do you think we will need to really explore your master's old lair?"
"I don't know," Zin replied. "It's been a long time since I've been in there. I think I know the general layout, but I'm not certain. A lot can change in however many years it's been."
"That's not exactly helpful," Ean grunted.
"Once we're inside, things will be easier. There is a way to find what we are looking for."
"And what way is that?"
"I'll let you know when we get there. It's hard to explain."
"Do you even know what we should be looking for?"
"I know the names of some rooms where we might find something interesting or helpful." The imp sighed as the blur shifted again. "Listen, much of this will be easier for you to find, as opposed to having me try to explain it poorly. Let's just get inside and see what we can find."
"Fine, then that leads us back to how we are actually going to get inside."
"I still like the fire idea," Azalea chimed back in.
"You could just summon a fire spirit and see what happens," Zin agreed.
"Yes, yes! A fire spirit!" Azalea clapped. "They are so cute and small in the Abyss, but with so much here for one to feed on, it would grow quickly. I would love to see one fully grown."
"No fires!" That earned Ean a stuck-out tongue from Azalea, which he ignored. "If we start destroying the village, obviously the first people they are going to blame are the outsiders. It's enough that we are putting ourselves in serious danger here, but I don't want to drag the entire caravan with us."
The other two grew silent. Ean hoped it was because they agreed with him but knew it was probably the opposite. There had to be some way to get all of the guards away from the mine long enough for them to get in. But how?
A yell broke his chain of thought, and he swung his head about trying to determine where it came from. A moment later, a few men went running past, followed by a few more. Then another yell. Glancing at Azalea for a moment, Ean climbed to his feet and took off after the men. As he rounded the side of one wagon, he saw the majority of people moving in the direction of the warehouse. Ean followed the rest of the workers with Azalea close behind him.
TWO SEPARATE CROWDS HAD gathered. The one closer to Ean was composed of all the workers and other members of the caravan. They seemed to be highly agitated about something. The second crowd stood near the warehouse and were a sharp contrast to the first. Under the red light of the fading sun, their dark blue skin took on the hue of a mottled purplish bruise. They all wore clothes of similar design and condition to the man Ean had seen early with the clipboard.
These were the Living Dead of the village, no longer in hiding. It was hard to see much else of them from his spot behind the crowd of workers, but not a single person looked like a decaying rotted corpse. They looked normal, if you could overlook the old clothes and their skin color. They stood completely still, watching something that was happening between the two groups.
Wanting to get a better look and hear what was going on, Ean began to weave his way through the crowd. This was where being thin and lanky had its benefits as he made his way towards the front. He got a few grumbles and even more elbows as he maneuvered through, but he soon found himself at the front.
In the open space between the two crowds, four men and two guards in red armor stood around a lone man who was down on his knees. Meganan was arguing with the man with the clipboard, one of his guards standing right behind him. The strange man with the clipboard wore a stoic expression as he listened to Meganan's words. The man down on his knees was Fredren.
"...doesn't have to be this way," Meganan growled, pointing down at the cowering Fredren. "He's just a stupid boy."
"It is the law," Clipboard man said. His voice was flat, emotionless, and had a small scratchiness to it. He still had the scarf around his face. "He was caught up by the mine. The punishment is death."
Fredren let out a little whimper. Bruises were starting to appear on his face, and there was a small cut above his right eye. He was as pale as a ghost.
"Now, wait a minute, Ulften," Meganan said, addressing the man with the clipboard. "I've been making this run for close to fifteen years now. Not once in the dozens of trips I've made all those years has a person broken your laws. Don't you think you can be a little lenient for this one boy?"
"No."
"Ulften, I--"
"It begins with a little leniency," Ulften cut in. "Then I have to start being lenient with my people. From that point, the rules of the village start breaking down. This village falls to chaos and then it spreads to the other villages. The chaos reaches all the way to the Eternal King. And who will he blame? Humans from the south? No, he will blame lenient Ulften. There will be no leniency while I am in charge here."
"Take his life now!" shouted someone in the opposite crowd.
"Spare him, you monsters!" said another man somewhere over Ean's left shoulder.
Both sides took to yelling, the combined voices like a rumble of thunder. Fredren was openly weeping now, his face in his hands and his body shaking. Ulften was staring at him, like a man staring at a rabid dog that needed to be put down. At the same time, Meganan was motioning for the men on either side to quiet down, although his efforts were having no effect on the Living Dead or the humans.
Ulften looked up to scan the bystanders with his cold eyes, singling out the most vocal with a gaze like sharp daggers. A hush fell over the crowd, until only the heart-wrenching sobs of Fredren remained.
"The laws for humans were made before the first caravan came here by the Eternal King. You agreed to those laws, did you not?"
"Yes," Meganan sighed in defeat.
Fredren lifted his head. A wild look, like an animal cornered in a cage, shined in his eyes. "I'm just making maps. Maps! I didn't mean any harm. Oh, someone help me. Deities save me!"
Ean cringed when Fredren's eyes settled directly on him. Not wanting any attention, he tried to melt back into the crowd. Unfortunately, they had tightened into an impenetrable wall, forcing him to remain up front.
"Ean!" The boy pointed right at him. "Tell them, Ean! I just make maps!"
Every eye, it seemed, shifted from Fredren onto Ean. He made one last vain attempt to push his way back into the crowd and then gave up with a sigh. With nothing else to do, he met Fredren's eyes. He at least owed the boy that.
"Ean, please..." Young Fredren's pleas ripped at his heart.
"Hey, wait a second, I know that one," one of the guards by Fredren said, pointing with a gauntleted finger. "I saw that one near the path to the mines, as well."
Ulften let out a sigh and gestured towards Ean. The guard that had pointed him out drew his sword and started to walk over. Cursing Fredren under his breath, Ean took a step towards the guard... and suddenly found a few of the wagon drivers standing in front of him.
"You're not taking another one of ours, rot face," one of the men growled. "You like to threaten little boys, let's see how you fair against a man."
As much as Ean hated being called a boy, he was more surprised by this sudden show of support by a complete stranger. Whether the man was standing up for him on principle or simply hated the Living Dead, at this point Ean didn't care.
"Boyd! Traiz!" Meganan yelled. "Do not interfere!"
Both men stood their ground for a moment, then with a glance back at Ean, stepped aside.
Taking a quick glance to the horizon, Ean saw the bottom of the sun just starting to touch the pea
ks to the west. If Ulften even suspected Ean, he would have no chance of ever reaching the mine.
The guard sheathed his sword as he approached, then grabbed Ean by the arm. Immediately Ean felt the power inside of him surge. He felt like a pitcher of water, full to the brim, being carried around by a drunk. It was all he could do to contain the energy inside of him, to the point where as soon as the guard started pulling him along, Ean tripped and almost fell.
"You've already made me regret letting you go," the guard growled quietly. "Stay on your feet and stop trying to make me look like a fool."
But Ean couldn't get his limbs to work properly. His power was reacting to something, and he had no idea what it was. Just like the Plague had been trying to bore into him, now his power was straining to burst out. Gathering all of his will power, Ean attempted to steady himself. He gripped the guard's hand tightly...
...and the runes on his arm burst into a blazing light.
His glove and half of his shirt were gone, leaving his right arm, shoulder, and side completely exposed. The tattoos that he thoght had only extended to his shoulder had made their way down his torso. They now covered his entire right side and even stretched out to part of his chest and stomach. But Ean had no time to examine the radical change.
The guard screamed as the power rushed out of Ean and into him, the light of it flowing into every hole of his armor. Ean closed his eyes tightly as he felt the power stretch forth from his own body like a million little hands. Mystical fingers of power took hold of the guard's body, covered him like a blanket, and seeped into his pores until it fused with mortal flesh. At first, Ean had no idea what the energy was doing. It was a force of nature, unstoppable. The more it surrounded and infused the terrified guard, though, the more familiar it seemed...
He knew when the power had felt like this before. Back in an old forgotten temple. Back when he had been in the presence of a goddess. Back when he had pulled the energies of the Abyss right out of the ghost of the old priest. Ean's eyes shot open at the realization of what was happening.
The unbridled energy of the Abyss latched onto the plague-infected energy in the guard. The latter energy resisted the former, but it was like a trickle of water trying to hold back a raging river. The pure energy that was flowing through him overwhelmed the corruption, burning it clean. All that was left behind in the guard was the same pure energy that flowed through Ean.
And then all of that energy, both Ean's and the guard's, flowed back into him.
The guard let out a blood-curdling scream. Ean watched in horror as the guard's scream quickly turned to a gurgle, and then a gasp as the guard's body went limp and collapsed to the ground. At least, it looked like he collapsed, until the armor rattled on the ground and each section came apart. The guard's entire body was simply gone. All that was left was the dark red armor, with piles of what looked like sand and dust pouring out of the edges.
Complete silence fell over the Deadlands.
Slowly glancing around, he saw everyone staring at him. Mouths hung open. Some people were huddled together, frozen in place. Others were still covering their ears as if the guard's screams were still echoing down the street. However, all eyes, including Fredren's, were dead-centered on Ean. Their expressions ranged from horror, to bewilderment, to anger--as if they were gazing at a murderous demon that had just crawled up from the depths of the Abyss. And the worst part was wondering if maybe they were right.
"I didn't mean to--"
The village erupted into chaos.
"GET UP!"
A woman was yelling at him. When Ean opened his eyes, he was on his back staring up into a hazy mist. How did he get on his back?
"Get up, you idiot!"
Hands grasped what was left of his shirt. The right half was completely gone. That seemed strange. The crisscrossing runes on his right side were glowing faintly, casting light around him.
When the hands forced him to sit up, a flash of pain went through his head, scattering his thoughts. He brought his hand to his temple and felt wetness. Was it raining? When he lowered his hand, it came back red. Was rain in the Deadlands a dark red? His head felt all muddled.
So many questions...Ean tried to grasp for at least one but was rattled more as he was lifted up onto his feet.
"If I have to carry you, I swear by the Abyss, I will never let you live it down."
That voice. Azalea. She was helping him up. That was nice of her. There were other sounds too. People yelling. Should he be worried? His muscles tightened as fear gripped him. There were blurs of things moving all around. Actually, a particularly red blur was coming straight at him.
"Wonderful."
Ean was about to ask what was wonderful when he suddenly found himself face down on the ground. Turning to his side, all he could see were a pair of red-plated boots and the brown sandals that Azalea always wore. The four feet were dancing around each other, sometimes close together, other times far apart. Then the red boots were gone for a moment, and all he saw were Azalea's feet.
The man in red armor hit the ground next to him with a clatter, his helmet flying off. The man's head was face up and yet the rest of his body was face down. His neck didn't look right either. Or his face for that matter, which was completely missing its lower jaw. But by far the thing that struck Ean the most peculiarly was when the man started to push himself back up off the ground. His head flopped about on a neck that no longer provided any support. The sight was horrific.
Again he was grabbed and hoisted over someone's shoulder. The horror of the previous scene had cleared his mind, and going by the plain brown robe and how they smelled of lilies, Ean guessed it was Azalea.
"Hold on, Ean," she yelled. "I'll get you out of this yet."
Azalea had no trouble running with him draped over her shoulder. All Ean could do was hold on as the ground passed in a blur beneath him. Every now and then he would see an arm or a leg lying motionless on the ground, some having the pale purple skin of the Living Dead, other times the fleshy tone of a human. And all the while, the sounds of yelling and fighting surrounded him.
"So much for sneaking around," Azalea yelled as she leapt over a body. "If we're lucky, all the guards will be done in the melee, and we will have easy access to the mine."
She barked a laugh. "If we make it there alive."
With his wits slowly returning, Ean lifted his head to try and get his bearings. The dusk light mixed with the shallow glow coming off his tattoos cast shadows everywhere. They were moving around different buildings, currently in a spot free of the fighting. The pulse coming off the mine mirrored the pulse in his body. It seemed to be coming from ahead and to the left, which meant they had somehow gotten to the north side of the village and were making their way south.
"You can put me down now," Ean managed to get out as he was being bounced around. "I can walk."
"Not yet, little one. We're still being followed, I think." She reached up and patted his backside. "You just be a good little lantern up there and let me handle things for now."
Ean gave her a scowl as a reply, which felt all the more stupid since she couldn't see it. So he contented himself with holding on while she ran toward the sunset. They skirted around houses, Azalea sometimes getting closer to the shadowy mountains and other times heading back towards the main road. She doubled back on herself a few times, all the while Ean kept a look out for any pursuers. By the time night had settled in, Ean's tattoos were providing more light then the three moons. Huffing only slightly, after a journey that would have killed lesser creatures, Azaelea finally stopped. She carefully set Ean down on his feet, keeping a tight hold on his shoulders.
"You ok? Test out your legs. Do you feel comfortable standing on your own?"
Standing on one leg and then the other, Ean nodded. "Yeah, I feel much better. What happened back there?"
"Someone, not sure from which side, threw a rock at your head."
"And then the people from the caravan came to my aid?"
She shook her head. "No, I think most of those humans were scared of you at that point, which is why I don't know who threw the rock. I did see a few stones get thrown into the crowd of Living Dead though, and I heard some not-so-nice words aimed at them as well. I think some of the men hate the Living Dead and just used this as an opportunity to start something. And start something, they did."
Just that moment, the sounds of shouting reached them, quickly followed by the clash of weapons.
"What about Fredren? Did you see him get away?"
"I didn't see him dead. So anything is possible."
"How about Zin?"
"I'm sure the imp is fine. I bet he is already waiting for us at the entrance to the mines. Speaking of which..."
She gestured behind her at a path that led up into the mountains. The ground was crushed flat and looked old and heavily trodden, following a nearly straight and steep line up into the mountain.
"Let's get going," Azalea said, giving him a gentle push towards the path. "I think I lost the mob, but we certainly don't want to just stand out here in the open waiting for them to find us."
"Good point. Hopefully the guards Zin saw earlier came down to help with the riot."
"Probably. Well, Ean, you wanted a distraction and you certainly got one."
"True," was Ean's only reply as he started up the path with a sigh. Azalea stayed back a bit and kept watch behind them.
A distraction. Ean had seen enough bodies on the ground as Azalea had carried him to know what his distraction had cost. The sounds of yelling and fighting coming from the village told him that the price was still climbing. It might have been Fredren's curiosity that started the ball rolling for the events tonight, but Ean certainly felt just as responsible for those that wouldn't make it back to Ven Khilada.
Trying to push thoughts of death and dying out of his head, Ean forged on. The path rose to a steep incline, higher and higher, zig zagging into the mountain as it cut a deep path into its side. Ean wondered if the armies of Zin's former master had cut the path or if the citizens that lived down in the village had made it.
Descent Into Darkness (Book 2) Page 23
