Winds of Chaos (Tainted Blood Book 3)

by Jeff Gunzel

  Three more white men popped up on the side of the road, their flesh blades lashing out, humans falling by the dozens. With a flick of Xavier’s wrist, one spinning disk flashed through all three, their bodies disintegrating into puffs of white powder. But the hanging mist began to reshape. The dry powdery clouds were reassembling right before his eyes. His alloy-dipped weapons were more effective than Thatra’s normal blade, but it still wasn’t enough to kill them. It only seemed to disrupt their physical forms for a short time.

  Xavier spun his weapons left and right, slashing white forms wherever he saw them. The situation was getting desperate. They seemed to be reforming just as fast as he could strike them down. The death toll was rising and the dirt road was turning red with blood.

  Still standing on his mount, he raised his hands to summon the return of his weapons. When the blades snapped back into his palms, he threw them to either side, striking two more ghatins, turning them into smoke on impact. He threw back his cloak, revealing the rows of half-moon blades strapped across his chest. His ringed fingers danced across them, touching each one before he threw his hands in the air.

  The blades levitated, floating above him in a most eerie display where physics no longer seemed to apply. He leaped off the back of his horse, flipping through the air as his levitating steel burst into motion. Two more ghatins turned to dust before he completed his back flip, then another three when he landed.

  Dropping to one knee, his fingers twitched again, sending individual blades streaking outward at multiple angles. But even as new ghatins went up in smoke, those he had already struck down were already reshaping themselves. Soon, they would be ready to strike again. But a small victory had been won. Being seen as the only real threat, he had drawn the ghatins’ attention to himself and away from those trying to get to the city. Better one die than hundreds.

  Xavier growled, his blades dancing in circles as the ghatins closed in. No longer did he hold out any hope of surviving. The plan had changed. If he could survive long enough to keep the ghatins focused on him, perhaps a few more humans might escape. Every second counted. He roared, his blades flashing out in a bloom of steel.

  He would fight like a savage to gain them one more second. That was what he signed on for. He always knew it would end like this.

  * * *

  Pushing his horse to its absolute limit, Owen charged on to get ahead of the fleeing mob. Diving off while his mount was still on the move, he hit the ground then rolled twice to soften the landing. Springing to his feet, he drew his blades as white men converged. Not unlike his student, they could sense he was a far bigger threat than any of these peasants, one that needed to be eliminated quickly.

  Sheets of white washed over him like ocean waves, those bright pink eyes glaring down, threatening to swallow him whole. Steel flashed, causing the descending walls of white to vaporize before ever touching him.

  Charging through the white, powdery cloud, Owen rushed another on the other side of the road. Looming over a fallen man, his lifeless eyes staring up at the sky, the ghatin noticed the hunter at the last second. Its flesh blades fired out. Owen deflected the first with a hard a crack, then rolled under the second. Rising before the ghatin, he made short work of the creature with a single thrust. Dust scattered, those pink eyes seeming to hang in the air like a ghostly afterglow. They judged Owen, hated him. Finally, the eerie eyes faded away.

  Sensing danger, the hunter ducked under the blade rushing in from behind, dropping to his knees as he released his swords. Hands crossing his chest, he slapped each shoulder and pulled two clear rings simultaneously. A spray of bladed darts fired from each shoulder, turning three more ghatins to dust. Orfi’s most recent upgrades to Owen’s battle suit were already coming in handy.

  Screaming people rushed past him while ghatins kept springing up from the ground, hacking and slashing, their flesh blades covering great distances to kill four or five at a time. Although it seemed he could win the one-on-one battles as they came, it would take all day to do so. They were everywhere! He needed to use his entire arsenal just to slow them down.

  Owen rolled his shoulders, his hidden crossbows tearing free from their cloth compartments as they rode up the tracks on his arms, then auto-locked to his wrists. Despite the chaos all around him, his booming voice still carried on the wind. “Everybody down!” he ordered. Without any real thought to challenge the authority of this powerful figure, bodies dropped. Men and women lay flat on the ground and covered their heads.

  The hunter roared, his arms sweeping back and forth as blinding light consumed the area in a flickering light show. Rotors clacking away, waves of orange projectiles tore through the ghatins, turning them to dust. The air grew thick with smoke, both from the crossbows as well as the creatures turning to powder. Seconds later it was over. So much violence released in such a short period of time. Yet their bodies were already beginning to reform. Owen knew all he had managed to do was buy a little more time.

  * * *

  Drifting sheets of white circled Xavier, their numbers seeming to grow by the second. His blades whirled, dancing on the ends of invisible threads. The surrounding ghatins converged at once, seeking to overwhelm this nuisance of a human. At the last second the puppet master threw his hands in the air, his dancing blades spinning straight up as if caught in a tornado. Slamming his fists to the ground, they plummeted, the whirling steel spiking through ten ghatins at once, their bodies bursting into white powder.

  Having cleared some space around him, Xavier reached beneath his cloak to retrieve a handful of small disks. Like tossing playing cards from the top of a deck, his wrist snapped with rapid speed, dishing them out in all directions. Upon hitting the ground, colored cones sprouted up like trees. Most missed their targets, the glowing cones of blue and red sitting like empty shells. But others sprung up right beneath the ghatins, capturing them fast. The ones who were held seemed to be frozen in time, featureless faces contorted in rage. Those caught in Xavier’s demon traps were not dead, but effectively out of the fight indefinitely while trapped in these energy cones.

  But for each one trapped, there seemed to be ten to take its place. Time. I just need to buy them time, Xavier thought, reaching beneath his cloak for another fistful of disks. Realizing he would never see Viola again, he tried to force down the dark thought so he could concentrate on the task at hand. It was hard. It hurt. Too late now, fool. Just do your job and buy the people a little more time!

  * * *

  Jarlen, Liam, and Assirra stood back to back as white lumps circled them, sliding across the white-powdered ground like speeding turtles. They could hear the sounds of battle raging from beyond, and only hoped that the other three were not as outnumbered as they were. But these white men were everywhere, and it was likely they were dealing with a similar situation. Liam began to mumble to himself, his harmonious words reminiscent of a song. “Now!” he grunted, hammering the butt end of his staff into the ground.

  The other two dropped down just as the ground erupted in waves of white. Warped, thin and waving like the sails of a boat, ghatins blasted up all around them. Liam whirled about, the curled horns of his goat’s head staff unfurling. The staff’s eyes flashed red, its skeletal mouth opening wide. Liquid fire spewed forth, a perfectly straight projectile of blue and red flame. The hot spray coated the surrounding ghatins, causing them to shriek before their bodies crumbled. But the fallen ash already began reassembling, blobs of white paste inching towards each other like caterpillars.

  Down on her knees, Assirra covered the back of her head, her face pressed against the dirt. She was largely helpless in a situation like this. Having only the ability to heal and resurrect, she could do nothing to help them in battle.

  Another rushed Jarlen from the opposite side. With a reflexive twitch, Jarlen’s arm fired out, piercing it right through the chest with a bladed hand. It shrieked like a whistle, its pink eyes bulging with agony and horror. Black smoke coiled up from its chest, the edges of
the wound charring while crumbling away. Its impossibly wide mouth snapped open like a toothless puppet’s, releasing a bloodcurdling screech. The blackening flesh spread, consuming its whole body. Suddenly, it ignited in a flash of blue fire. The flame roared for only an instant, then winked out, leaving behind nothing but a charred husk. The husk crumbled into nothing as black ash blew away on the wind.

  Jarlen turned to see Liam staring, the old man’s mouth hanging wide open in awe. “You can hurt them,” Liam said quietly, as if not quite believing his own words. “You can kill them!” he repeated, louder. Jarlen said nothing, gazing down at his own hands. He didn’t understand it any more than Liam did, but it did appear to be true.

  Liam’s mind raced. So many questions, so many possibilities to contemplate, but now was certainly not the time for any of that.

  Liam glanced down into the pit where Viola waited, those same three humans standing by her side. “You must go to her, Jarlen!” Liam ordered, guiding his staff left and right, preparing to repel the next wave. Jarlen appeared hesitant. “It is too late for regrets,” Liam said, watching Jarlen closely. “A man’s eyes never lie. I’ve known for some time that you had betrayed your sister, and now you fear she will never forgive you.”

  Jarlen winced at the perceptive human’s words. How did he know? “She doesn’t want my help,” he said, looking away in shame.

  “And yet she needs it nonetheless,” Liam confirmed, raising an eyebrow. “There is nothing one can do to change the past, but the future is still an open book. You made a promise to Xavier. He is counting on you, as am I.” He glanced back down at her. “This is not a time for foolish pride to take hold, neither yours or hers.” Liam stepped back, gripping his staff while looming over Assirra protectively. “I’ll stay with Assirra, but you need to go! Don’t let the past define the present. Go!”

  * * *

  “We have to get out of here,” Kalmton said, watching the white lumps speed around the sandy floor, circling the area like sharks. The winds had increased, causing him to shout over the sound of rushing air.

  “That way,” Viola shouted, pointing towards one of the half-open gates. Kalmton and Nald raced to it, then rolled beneath the sharp pointed bars near the bottom. They expected Viola to be right behind them. But before they even got back their feet, they heard the clacking of the gate coming down. After kicking it closed, Viola struck the latch with her flesh blade, mangling it so the gate could not be opened again.

  Nald rushed to the closed gate, his fingers gripping the grated bars. “What are you doing?” he gasped, shaking the bars as if to try and break free. “Viola!”

  Kalmton moved up on his right, a deep sadness in his eyes. “We’re going to get out of here together, remember?” he whispered.

  “I’m sorry, Kalmton,” she said, placing both hands against the gate. She clasped their fingers through the bars, Kalmton’s in her right hand, Nald’s in her left. It was the closest thing they could have to a farewell hug. “I must break my promise. It is me they are after, not you. And I will not put either of you in harm’s way.” Her fingers slipped from theirs as she turned. “Go back to the barracks and hide until it’s over,” she called over her shoulder, ignoring their pleas for her to come with them. “I shall never forget either of you.”

  She stopped in her tracks, finding herself face to face with Salina. The woman had a strange look in her eyes. There was danger all around, yet somehow she seemed completely focused on Viola instead. “Go to the south gate,” Viola ordered, pointing. “I will seal you in. Hurry, there’s no time!”

  “I will not.” Her voice was cool, emotionless.

  “You will, if I have to drag you there myself!”

  “You will do no such thing...lerwick.” Viola froze. It had been a long time since she heard that word, and certainly not since she had arrived here. “Yes, you heard me. I know what you are. But it was only once the spirits began whispering in my ear that I discovered the truth. I suppose it’s only fair that I reveal my true form to you as well.”

  Salina spread her hands and looked up to the sky. Her skin seemed to flake away, riding off on the wind like feathers while leaving behind a drastically changed appearance. Golden scales climbed up her neck, reminiscent of a lizard or snake. Her eyes were also gold, and her flowing hair turned dark black. Her age seemed to reverse, years dropping away as her skin tightened, revealing a young, beautiful face.

  “What are you?” Viola gasped. “You’ve been lying to me all this time?”

  “Lies. Deceit. All of it essential in order to get this close to you.”

  “So you are my enemy,” Viola accused, her arms stretching, slowly morphing into blades.

  “I am anything but your enemy! I have given up everything to be here with you. I was sent by the spiritists of the north with only one objective: To protect you at all costs.”

  “You will change your appearance to blend in with humans, and offer yourself into their tournament. Once there, do not let the girl out of your sight. Until we uncover what her relationship is with the ghatins, and why they so desperately seek her, you will watch her every move and guard her with your life. If anything happens to her, do not come back! Failure is not an option!”

  Salina looked up from her kneeling position, eyes hard and determined. “Yes, Moon Mistress,” she said. “On my life, I shall not fail you.”

  “I have already sent word to my people,” Salina continued. Her appearance was so different now, yet her voice was exactly the same. “They ride to our aid even as we speak. We just need to hold out a little longer.”

  “And why should I trust anything you say?” Viola hissed, her arms still molded into razor-sharp blades.

  Salina smiled. A different face, yet that same grin Viola had seen so many times before. “I don’t see that you have any choice.”

  A wall of white sprung up from behind. This wave of ghatins seemed to be connected somehow, save for their individual sets of pink eyes. Viola whirled back, her bladed arms slashing straight across the white sheet. The gashed creatures let out a series of harrowing screams, the long slice blackening, continuing to burn even further though the damage had already been done. The wall burst into blue flame as contorted faces twisted and howled. Moments later only ash remained, then it too blew away as if it were lighter than air.

  Viola spun back. Salina’s golden eyes were wide open, staring, unable to comprehend what she had just seen. Viola could hurt them?

  “You have to get out of here!” Viola said, her head whipping around, leery of where the next strike might be coming from. “It’s not safe. It’s me they’re after, not you. Whoever you are, don’t get caught up in this.”

  “Oh my dear, sweet Viola,” Salina said, holding up the palm of her hand. “ As ever, you put others before yourself. But I already told, I will not leave your side. I swore to protect and watch over you, and that is exactly what I intend to do. Besides—” A frosty white sphere materialized in her hand. Ghostly in appearance, there looked to be small white beings swimming around inside. They resembled tadpoles with large heads and long tails. “We spiritists are not as helpless as you think.”

  She threw the sphere, smashing it against the ground. Twirling white steam rose from the spot. Faster and faster it spun, growing higher and wider like a dust devil spinning out of control. Pale faces with hollowed black eyes swirled within, each bearing mouths full of pointed teeth. The tornado of spirits moved of its own mind, spinning towards any ghatins who sprung up from the ground. The funnel spinning with ghostly apparitions knifed right through them, ripping and tearing, turning them all to dust. But as always, the dust began to reassemble itself almost immediately.

  Viola turned and streaked towards the center of the pit, waves of white drifting beneath her feet. It was like running across the ocean with waves rising and falling all around. “The humans have done nothing to you!” she shrieked, her hissing voice filling every corner of the pit. “If it is me you have come for, then so
be it! But I promise you this—” Her arm flashed out, her bladed hand taking another ghatin right beneath his jaw. With no time to react or scream, its head burst into blue flame. “For every human fallen this day, I will kill ten of you! You want me? Come and get me!”

  Four more splashed up from the ground, their ghostly flesh blades stabbing wildly. But when Viola crossed her own, intercepting three at once, they burst into blue flames as if her very touch were somehow poisonous. But the fourth got through, stabbing her right through the shoulder. Viola cried out, swiping it away with a quick slash. It shattered on impact, chips of flaming blue scattering across the sand. Apparently a direct hit could indeed hurt her. She hadn’t known that until now.

  Viola dropped to one knee, clutching the wound as blood seeped between her fingers. Her shoulder throbbed, but she could not afford to let it be a distraction. Growing bolder, smelling blood like rabid wolves, more began to pop up all around her. Releasing her shoulder, she swept out her arm, slashing three more across their bellies. They drifted back like kites, their bodies instantly consumed by blue flames.

  Sensing danger, she dove into a forward roll as white blades passed over her head. Ignoring her blazing shoulder, she turned and slashed. Two more ghatins squealed like dying pigs, their necks erupting in flame. She tried to roll again but her feet held fast, ensnared by pale hands reaching up from the sand. They were closing in from all sides now, trying to take her down while she was at her most vulnerable.