Winds of Chaos (Tainted Blood Book 3)

by Jeff Gunzel

  “Is this story of yours as far-fetched as a queen being exiled from her own city, sent into the wilderness to die, then rescued by beings no one has ever seen or heard of, all within a few days?” Bella asked. Rishima snickered at the obvious sarcasm. “As far as I can tell, the world around me is nothing like I was led to believe. I’m not sure I am in a place to be questioning anything anymore.”

  “I see your point,” Rishima replied, trying to force down her grin. This really was no laughing matter. “There has been a recent capture in your city, one that has created quite a stir, I understand.”

  “I know nothing of this.”

  “I don’t imagine you would,” Rishima confirmed. “It happened at the exchange the day you were released. They are calling her ‘the dead girl,’ but I assure you she is much more than that. I’m not entirely sure how, but she is somehow connected to these ash men.”

  “I don’t understand.” Bella remembered now. There was indeed a girl there when she was released. “You say she was captured on the day of my exile? Even now all I can remember was being released from that sack. I crawled blindly towards the only person I still trusted in this world. I crawled on my hands and knees towards—” The betrayal still so fresh in her memory, she couldn’t find the strength to say his name. “Are you saying this girl is working with them, or one of them somehow?”

  “No. I mean, I don’t know,” Rishima fumbled, trying her best to explain something she really didn’t understand herself. “I told you before that the spirits see all, and in turn we are blessed with their knowledge. But even the spirits do not know the answer this time. There is a blind spot in the pattern.”

  “So the spirits can’t even tell you what she is?”

  “No,” Rishima admitted. “Not unlike the being who betrayed your trust, her origin is a complete mystery even to the sprits. But perhaps more importantly, they can tell us what she is not. She is no friend of the ghatins! Of this we are certain. In fact, they seem to fear her nearly as much as we fear them. There has been a pattern forming for some time now. Yes, they have been attacking villages, killing off entire squads of fighting men in order to send a message. But these attacks are not as random as we once thought. They have been searching for her, but you and I already know where she is. That is our advantage.”

  “And what will they do to her once they find her?” Bella asked, intrigued by all this.

  “We don’t know. But what does it matter anyway? So far, all attempts made by the humans to defend their borders have failed spectacularly. The only thing that has saved the human cities so far is the limiting factor of this ash itself. If they did not need it for mobility, they could surely crush the humans with ease. We fear that the girl might be somehow tied into all that. Needless to say, if they want her that badly, then we must do everything in our power to stop that from happening.”

  Bella took a moment to let it all sink in. It was all happening so fast. She could now see why Rishima had been reluctant to tell her everything at first. For years she had known that Jarlen was a unique species. There were no others like him to anyone’s knowledge. Now this female version had been discovered. This...Viola. Blinded by his charm, his confidence, and power, Bella had never stopped to wonder why no other such species had ever been discovered. Could it be true? Could this strange female somehow be connected to the ghatins?

  “If she is so important, then what have you done so far to ensure her safety?” Bella asked.

  “The spiritists have eyes and ears all over Shadowfen, as well as other large cities. Although I continue to receive steady reports, our hands are tied. For now, they are keeping her under close watch. I suppose that makes her safe enough for the time being.” Rishima cupped the back of Bella’s head, then gently lowered her back down against the pillow. “I think I’ve given you plenty to think about. Too much, in fact. Try to put it from your mind and get some rest. I promise we shall talk later.” Even with her thoughts heavy from all she had learned, Bella knew that sleep would come easy. She was exhausted. Rishima brushed the hair away from Bella’s forehead, then got up and left her guest to sleep.

  * * *

  Bella woke to the sound of footsteps out in the hall. Whoever was out there wasn’t being particularly loud, but the sound still seemed to funnel its way right into the room. The steps grew lighter, fading until it was silent once more. How long had she been asleep? Through the dark-green stained glass window high on the wall, she could see it was plenty dark out. She must have slept the day away. Feeling much better, she sat up in the bed wondering what time it was. A gurgle from her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten in some time.

  Leaning back against the headboard, she mulled over the day’s events. And what a day it had been. Ghatrie had been right about one thing at least: She was indeed lucky to be alive. Until now, it hadn’t really sunk in. Kicking back the blanket, she looked down at the ink on her ankle and wondered what might have been, what could still be.

  She thought about the Moon Mistress’s offer. What if she did decide to stay here and help lead the spiritists? In a sense, she would regain her power and status, if only in a different region. But did she really want that? She had climbed that ladder to prominence once before because she was hungry, determined, and would not stop until she had achieved greatness. Young and vigorous she was, but those days seemed so long ago. She no longer felt that hunger, that drive to push herself back into a role of leadership. That left an even bigger question looming over her head. If she wasn’t to stay here with the spiritists, then where would she go?

  The curtain drew back with a slow hiss and Rishima peeked her head in. “Are you awake?”

  “Do you sleep sitting up with your eyes open?” Bella replied with a grin.

  “I see your sense of humor has returned,” Rishima said, returning her smile as she stepped inside. “I take it you’re feeling better, then?”

  “Indeed. Look, I know what you’ve come to ask me. I regret that I must—”

  “I came to see if you need anything,” said Rishima, raising a hand to silence her guest. “If you are hungry, I can have something sent in. If your desires are of a more...physical…nature, I can also have someone sent in to entertain your needs.”

  “Oh no, that is quite all right,” Bella answered quickly, hoping she hadn’t sounded as uncomfortable as she felt. “Perhaps a bite to eat, nothing else.”

  “Very well, then. Lie back down and I shall bring you something myself.” Rishima turned and left the room. When the curtain zipped shut, Bella blew out a breath and sank back into the pillow. As queen, she had learned long ago how to be tolerant when it came to foreign customs. All societies were different, and showing acceptance was part of her job. But to speak of such things so casually had caught her off guard. Pleasures of the flesh were not a thing to be discussed so freely, and certainly not a thing to be offered like a service.

  Rishima returned a short time later pushing a wheeled cart with a covered tray. Sitting on the bed beside Bella with her back against the headboard, she slid the tray from the cart across her lap and set it down between them. “I think I have just the thing for you here,” she said, lifting away the lid. Bella’s mouth watered at the spiced aroma wafting up from the tray. Stewed apple slices smothered in a thick cinnamon sauce lay in carefully positioned rows. As a sort of colorful garnish, half the tray was covered with green grapes, the other half with black grapes. “I hope you don’t mind sharing,” she said, handing Bella a spoon while keeping one for herself. “I have not eaten yet this evening, either. I was too worried about you to be bothered.”

  Accepting the spoon, Bella sunk its edge down into a soft apple slice. With the first bite, warm cinnamon burst in her mouth. The dish was more suited as a dessert to be sure, but she wasn’t about to complain. She jerked back with a start as something cold pressed the side of her lips. Pinching a black grape between two fingers, Rishima touched her with it a second time, hinting that she should open up. Both laug
hing, she opened her mouth to accept the offering. It was good, just like the warm apples. Everything was good. For the first time in a long time Bella felt happy and safe.

  “We’re not so different, you and I,” said Rishima, popping a grape into her own mouth. “Physically, I mean.”

  Scooping up another apple slice, Bella raised a curious eyebrow.

  “Our anatomy is quite similar to a human’s. You declined my earlier offer to have a man sent in. I can’t help but wonder why. Do you not find our race attractive?” Holding Bella’s gaze, she traced a finger down between her breasts. “It’s not unusual for the humans to court our kind. Are you certain you don’t want me to send—”

  “No!” Bella replied, again taken aback by how freely Rishima spoke of such things. With a hurt look, Rishima drew in on herself, her hand fumbling with the top of her dress to cover her cleavage. With a sigh, Bella slid closer to her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.” She touched the golden scales on Rishima’s neck. Surprisingly, they were soft to the touch, much as if they were just ink painted over skin.

  “I think the spiritists are beautiful,” said Bella. She touched Rishima’s cheek with the back of her fingers. “I think you are beautiful. But there is something you have to understand. I have just been betrayed by the man I loved. I lost everything because I was blind to his deceit. The last thing I want, or need, is another man sharing my bed. At least for a time, anyway. I hope you understand.”

  “I see,” said Rishima, just the hint of a sheepish grin turning up the corner of her mouth. Slowly raising a finger, she swiped a bit of apple from the corner of Bella’s lips. “I too understand having no need of a man to please me.” Sucking the apple off the tip of her finger, she leaned in closer. “But my offer was not as specific as you seem to think,” she whispered in Bella’s ear. “Until you say otherwise, the queen’s influence remains intact. You can have whatever you desire with no fear of guilt, blame, or accountability.” Bella stiffened as Rishima’s lips brushed lightly against her ear. “No one here, or anyplace else, can ever judge you or tell you what you should want.”

  Feeling those lips brush her ear once more, Bella closed her eyes. “Until now I have had no equal among my ranks,” Rishima said softly. Bella felt a hand smooth up her front. When it stopped, lightly cupping her breast, a tiny gasp escaped her lips, but she did nothing to resist. She shivered at the moist warmth of Rishima’s tongue lightly probing the inside of her ear. “Your authority is absolute and without question. If you want me to stop, then I shall.”

  “No.” The word came out like a puff of air, barely audible but with the full weight of a queen’s command. “No, I do not wish you to stop.”

  Bella fell back against the mattress, Rishima collapsing on top of her. As early as this morning, Bella had believed she never wanted to be touched by anyone ever again. Truthfully, the thought of a man’s touch sickened her. But this was different somehow. It didn’t seem real, yet she couldn’t help but give in completely. Before, she had been eager to please, would tolerate the unbridled aggression of a man in bed because it was her job to do so. But Rishima was Jarlen’s opposite in every way. Opposite to any man, really. So gentle, so precise, her soft fingers moved like feathers around Bella’s body. Subtle, tender, her movements were living poetry, too seamless to be real.

  With no memory of ever removing her clothes, Bella found herself completely naked. Like a dream, everything was happening so naturally, effortlessly. Lost in a blaze of passion, their bodies merged as one. Her hands clutched the back of Rishima’s neck, their eyes remained locked on one another. Those perfect dark eyes sprinkled with flecks of gold, they held her soul as strong as any spell. In an instant, she had gone from never wanting to be held, to never wanting to let go. If I am dreaming, may I never wake.

  * * *

  Sitting up with his back pressed against a thick oak, Jarlen waited in the forest just off the main path. Alone with his thoughts, he listened to the birds chirping in the treetops. A nearby squirrel chittered angrily, possibly suspicious that the stranger was here to steal his stores of food. All around him, the forest teemed with life, yet he had never felt so alone. He couldn’t help but snicker at the irony. This “freedom” was what he had craved more than anything, even leading him to betray his own flesh and blood to attain it. And now that he was a free man in this wide-open world, the loneliness of it was becoming crushing reality. With no goals, no purpose, or reason to push towards, what would he do now?

  He could still see Viola’s face in his mind, those accusing eyes burning into his soul the moment she knew he had betrayed her. The hurt, hatred, and anger she must have felt. A part of him knew he would never escape those eyes. They would follow him for the rest of his days, that final image of her, burned into his mind as a constant reminder of what he had done. Who could ever forgive such a vile act?

  “I do not seek your forgiveness,” he growled to no one, sweaty fists balling up the fabric of his pants. He glared at a nearby tree as if somehow it were to blame. “You did this to yourself. The strong will always find a way to survive while the weak fade into dust. That is the way of things. That has always been the way. Your trusting nature was your downfall, not me. I am a survivor. I do not apologize for that.” He though that saying the words out loud might help convince him they were true.

  Rubbing his temples, he tried to suppress the painful memories beginning to surface. Searing pain unleashed by the collar whenever his captors chose. Night after night of torture they happily referred to as training. And now his own sister had been pulled into that world. He knew what they would do to her, and it sent chills down his spine. It was a world he would wish on no one, yet he sent her there willingly. “I’m a survivor,” he muttered once more, a final attempt to stave off the guilt and justify his actions.

  He turned at the sound of rustling bushes. Assirra popped through the brush, her hair a tangled mess and her clothes covered with burrs. Her heavy breathing made Jarlen bolt up straight, suspecting she might be being chased. But her glare was more that of an angry woman whose patience was running thin than that of someone being pursued by danger. “Your time is up!” she growled, tossing a sack at his feet. Two pieces of fruit rolled out, one tapping the side of his heel.

  “I thought we agreed I had one more day,” he grumbled, slouching back against the tree.

  “What would you do with an extra day anyway? Lean against that damn tree all day waiting for something to happen? No, we’re past that now, and I need you to make a choice. Do you still not realize what you’ve done? Do you know what is happening to Viola right now?” He flinched and looked away. “Do you?!”

  “All too well,” he growled under his breath.

  “This is your fault, and once again I find myself having to clean up your mess.” She took a deep breath to compose herself. “I will be leaving for Shadowfen in the morning.” She paused a moment as if thinking about her next words. “I need you to come with me.”

  “What? Never!” he bellowed, leaping to his feet. “I lost years of my life to that forsaken city. I was treated like an animal. Worse than an animal! I’m never going back there.”

  “I do not doubt your words,” she said calmly. “I know what they did to you.”

  “You know nothing!”

  “But I do,” she continued. “And not a day went by that you weren’t in my thoughts. I know they treated you like an animal, forced you to fight like some rabid dog whose life meant nothing. But you did it anyway. Day after day you found a reason to push on, to survive just one more day, one more week. Jarlen, no matter how hard they tried to break you, they couldn’t. You have an inner strength that is far beyond any mortal’s. Well, I ask you, where is he now? Where is the man they couldn’t break? Where is the man whose strength has no bounds? Because I need him now more than ever.”

  He rolled his eyes up to meet her pained expression. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “This man you speak of. He died in the pit years
ago. Best you come to terms with that.”

  With a blink, her glistening eyes released, sending tears rolling down her cheeks. “Very well,” she said as her voice cracked. “Then I will go alone. Be gone by daybreak and don’t ever return. I never want to see you again.” She spun away, dashing back into the brush.

  “Assirra, wait.” But a swaying branch was the only remaining evidence that she had just been there.

  * * *

  Still plenty dark, the room began taking on an orangish hue as early morning light crept through the window. With eyes wide open just as they had been all night, Assirra quietly rolled from her bed. Moving past the small table in the corner, she reached out and tapped the sealed envelope containing her written letter. She could plainly see it hadn’t been moved, but felt the urge to touch it anyway as a sort of symbolic gesture. Her instructions to the tarrins in her absence were clear enough and in no way unreasonable. Day-to-day dealings would be carried out as usual. She was not to be followed under any circumstances. She would return as soon as she could. It was Odao’s will that she be left alone to partake in this personal task.

  Adding that last bothered her a great deal. In truth, it had been some time since she had felt his presence. She had no idea how Odao felt about the task she had taken upon herself. It was as if the gods themselves were simply going to let the mortals fend for themselves during this dark time.

  After snatching the stuffed pack in the corner, she tiptoed her way through the temple and down the winding stairs. It would be best if no one saw her leave. She wasn’t in the mood to answer any questions.

  The sleeping village of Eldham was so quiet that she flinched at every crunch of dry grass under her feet. Now and then came the call of a screeching bird, threatening to draw attention to her. It wasn’t long before she was just beyond the village borders and out on the main trail. Ducking off the trail when she recognized her marked spot, she found her saddled horse tied and waiting for her. A sturdy beast, she’d handpicked this one from the stable the night before. Although certainly not the fastest, he could handle the wear and tear of a long trip while being weighted down. After attaching her bags, she trotted off.