by Gwynn White
“Did they frighten you?” he asked, amused. “They will only harm you if I allow it.” The klashtons reached down to their feet, scooping up what appeared to be liquid portions of the floor. It soon became obvious that those skins they just slipped out of adjusted to their surroundings, rendering them invisible at all times. They must have been standing there the whole time. Holding the crumpled body suits under their arms, they looked as if they had holes in their sides. They turned and thumped away.
“What is your name, runner?” Orm’rak asked, talking softly and slowly, as if speaking to a child.
“Kane,” the man replied, eyes to the floor.
“Kane,” he repeated, clicking his tongue as if he liked the way that name sounded. “Come with me, Kane. I will show you something I rarely show to the other humans. I hope you can appreciate that.”
“I-I do, Orm’rak,” the man said, following the laberath from the large chamber. The halls were exceptionally tall, most likely to accommodate the two klashtons he apparently had in service. It was hard to believe such brutish creatures could be tamed enough to be used as personal bodyguards.
Kane felt reasonably safe in the presence of Orm’rak. Unlike the others, he wasn’t driven by emotion or a slave to an insatiable hunger. Kane was a runner, whose status was viewed at least on par with a servant’s, but with more freedom involved. He was permitted to journey near the surface world to meet with their contacts in order to gather information. Runners were useful, and were rarely harmed without reason.
Runners and servants alike passed them in that hall, heads low as they scurried past. Any human who had been forced to live here long enough understood that staying invisible was always the key.
Kane tugged at the thin iron collar around his neck. Even after his years of being a runner, he still wasn’t sure if he was relieved to wear the mark, or if he viewed it as a sign of hopelessness. The collar proved his status as a runner, ensuring he could never be mistaken for anything else. But at the same time, it guaranteed he could never escape to the surface world. Too many eyes and ears working for the laberaths were aware of what that collar represented. He would be identified, then brought back as a deserter. Those who were branded as such could only pray for a swift death, a desire that was rarely granted. He shuddered at the thought, realizing his life here could certainly be much worse.
They approached a large iron door, bordered with a series of gold serpents intertwined with one another like twisting snakes. When Orm’rak placed his ice-cold hands on the door, the serpents began to writhe, seeming to come to life as they squirmed and twisted around the door’s edge. Light broke around the door as it sank in, then slid directly into the side wall.
The room seemed bright in comparison to the dark hallway, forcing Kane to blink incessantly. Once inside, his eyes quickly adapted to the light. He gazed around briefly, then violently vomited on the floor. Instantly, he regretted ever opening his eyes in the first place.
As far as he could see, naked men, women, and even children hung in the air from metal racks, their feet crossed and arms spread wide. Clear masks covered their faces, each connected to long tubes flowing with dark liquid. Air bubbles crept through the tubes, giving a visional indication of how slowly the fluid was pumping between bodies.
Fixed beneath the hanging bodies were long wooden troughs used to catch their falling waste. It was only upon seeing this that a further horror invaded Kane’s mind. They’re still alive, suspended in some sort of living death! His empty stomach had nothing left to offer, yet made a valiant effort anyhow. Mouth wide open, he gagged and belched, stomach contracting with nothing but bile and air.
Orm’rak patted the feeble human on the back like a friend attempting to provide comfort. He drifted over to one of the racks and pulled a lever near its side. There was a hissing sound, and what looked to be steam dispersing all around. The strong scent of sulfur filled the air as the rack containing a male body slowly lowered to ground level.
Orm’rak gripped the clear mask on his face, wrenching it back and forth. As it wiggled free, it became clear it was not the mask itself resisting, but the tube running down the man’s throat. Given its length, it clearly ran all the way down to his stomach. At last the end popped free with a wet splash of dark fluid. The man’s eyes began to flutter, followed by a violent fit of coughing.
“You see, the fluid contains a sleep inducer, as well as a nourishing agent,” said Orm’rak, attempting to educate the runner. His scientific calmness on the vile subject was chilling. “As you can see, the moment the tube is removed, the subject wakes up rather quickly.” Indeed, the man had already regained consciousness. Suspended helplessly, panic flooded his eyes as he gazed at the laberath before him.
From a peg on the side, Orm’rak grabbed a large needle with a flexible tube attached, then jammed it deep in the man’s inner thigh. “Ah! No!” he cried out, confused panic quickly becoming outright terror. “Don’t! Please don’t!”
The laberath lifted the end of the tube to his lips, blood beginning to creep through the tube. The man continued to scream, thrashing as much as the restraints would allow. Orm’rak stopped a moment, and turned back to the runner, who was down on his knees, hands over his ears to muffle the blood-curdling cries.
“Do you know why I prefer to feed while they’re still alive?” Orm’rak asked. “Because I can taste the adrenalin as it builds. It sweetens the blood, making the feed just that much more enjoyable.” Kane’s head went straight to the floor, face down in his own vomit, hands still covering his ears.
“I’ll tell you something else,” Orm’rak continued casually. “Before his blood is completely drained, his face will go white like mine. His lips will even darken in color. Don’t you find that ironic? Before this human expires, he will strongly resemble a laberath.”
He tossed the tube aside and strolled back to the trembling runner. “I want you to remember what I shared with you today. Tell the other runners what will happen if any of you ever decides to try to betray my trust in any way. If even one of you tries to escape, I will put three of you up on these racks. Do you understand?”
“Yes! Yes, Orm’rak,” the runner whimpered, refusing to lift his head. “I swear I would never betray you!”
Orm’rak placed his cold hand on the man’s head. “I believe you, Kane,” he said, his voice returning to its calm, musical tone once again. “Now before I let you go, I believe you had something to report to me. Correct?”
Shaken to his core at what he’d just witnessed, the man could hardly pull himself together. He had completely forgotten all about the report. It seemed so unimportant now. “Y-Yes sir,” he stammered, now just eager to get far away from here. Each scream from the poor man on the rack made his shoulders twitch. “The hunter. He has retrieved the girl, and they are on the move as we speak.”
Orm’rak’s lips curled back in a fiendish smile, revealing bloodstained teeth. “Good,” he whispered. “So the human came through after all. I’ll assemble a team to meet with him immediately.” He glanced down at the runner, as if he’d forgotten he was even there. “You may go now,” he said, gesturing towards the open doorway.
Nearly crippled with fright a minute ago, the runner suddenly found his legs easily enough. He bolted away, the slowly dying man’s screams echoing behind him.
Chapter Five
The sun dipped down below the horizon, the last of its orange glow lingering just above the western mountain range. Glancing up to the sky, Viola could see the stars breaking through the sparse cloud cover. Gusts of wind lifted her white hair, wrapping it around her face. The tickling sensation made her giggle. Smiling, she brushed it back until the next gust did the same.
Never before had she been outdoors for so long, an entire day spent riding in the back of a wagon. After spending so many years hidden from the world, the freedom felt exhilarating. Having Liam along made her feel safe. It seemed so very foolish to trust someone she had only known for such a short amoun
t of time, but there was a kindness in his eyes that made her feel at ease.
The creaking wheels began to slow, the rocking wagon now veering off to the side of the road. “We’re stopping for tonight, Viola,” said Liam, dropping the reins and shaking out his hands.
“Where are we going, anyway?” she asked.
He twisted back in his seat, peeking under the canopy. “An excellent question, young lady,” he said, flashing her a smile. “One I intend to have answered shortly.”
Owen and Xavier each tied their mounts to separate trees. Other than a few grunts and snorts, the hunter’s lavics seemed remarkably disciplined. Such was not the reputation of such a wild beast. Clearly, it was well trained.
Xavier began setting up camp, Owen doing little more than watching. Seated, his back to a tree, the hunter barked out a few final instructions before closing his eyes. Within minutes, bedrolls were laid out across a flattened space. The hunter’s assistant made a quick sweep of the area, collecting armfuls of wood to make a fire. Kneeling down before the pile, Xavier pulled out his flint and steel.
“Allow me,” said Liam, moving up near the pile. Eyes closed, he muttered a word or two before placing the end of his staff into the wood pile. The white-gemmed eyes of the goat skull glowed briefly, then smoke began to curl up from the wood. Seconds later a small fire was produced, sharing its warmth and light with the group. With no acknowledgment or thanks, Xavier stood and walked back to his master near the tree.
Viola had found herself a spot under another tree across the way. Leaving the fire, Liam went to where she was seated. “Are you all right, dear?” he asked, kneeling down before her. “Why don’t you come sit by the fire? I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable than sitting way over here.”
“I don’t get cold,” she replied, her vacant gaze fixed on nothing. “Don’t worry about me. I’m just fine over here.” She tucked a finger underneath her collar, tugging at it without even thinking. It had been a full day, and she was still not used to it. It was going to take some time.
“Very well,” said Liam, rising up off his knee. “I think it’s time I had a little chat with our friend.” He glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the others. “It’s time we got some answers.” He marched over to the other two, both sitting with their backs against the same tree. “Ahem,” he cleared his throat and waited. “Ahem,” he repeated, just a tad louder.
The hunter opened one eye. “It appears my attempt to ignore you is failing,” he grumbled, annoyed. “Any chance I can listen to your complaining in the morning?”
“None,” Liam replied, sitting down before him. “I told you I would have questions, and it’s time I got some answers.”
“One,” Owen replied.
“One what?”
“I will answer ye one question per day, dependent on how much longer we travel together.”
“That’s not good enough,” Liam retorted, clearly irritated by the hunter’s arrogance. “You cannot keep Viola and I in the dark like this. We need to know what your intentions are moving forward.”
“Oh, do you?” Owen said, an amused eyebrow raised. “Because the way I understand it, you no longer have a place to call home. You practically begged me to come along, not only so you could keep an eye on your little pet,” his eyes quickly flashed to the other tree, “but also because you have nowhere to go. You have no home, no true objective, and no purpose...old man. If I turn you away tonight, what will you do? Where will ye go?” Liam twitched, knowing the hunter’s logic was sound. He was in no position to bargain.
“Make no mistake, old man. For now, I’m keeping you around because you just might prove to be useful sooner or later,” he continued. “But until that time comes, you will follow my rules. Given your circumstances, I would say that my offer is rather generous. Agree?” Admitting defeat, Liam nodded. “Good. Now what is your question so I can finally get some rest?”
Liam’s expression hardened, his mind swirling with so many questions. He decided to stick with the one bothering both he and Viola. “Where are you taking us?” he asked plainly.
After a pause, Owen let out a booming laugh. He rocked back and forth, slapping his knee as he cackled. Liam was not so nearly amused. “Xavier, go entertain the girl,” Owen said, once he was able to catch his breath. Hood low, it was impossible to see the apprentice’s expression, but he turned to face them with a jerk, clearly caught off guard. “Go on now. Speak to her. Do what you can to amuse her simple little mind while the mystic and I have a chat.” The assistant rose to his feet, then went over to his horse and began tugging at a leather cord.
“I’m glad you find my question so amusing,” Liam growled.
“Oh, it’s not the question I find amusing,” Owen responded, still visibly trying to hold back more laughter. “It’s more than fair. But I’m afraid ye might have wasted today’s allowed question.” He paused. “I don’t know where we’re going,” he answered, then burst into another fit of laughter.
Liam surged to his feet. “What do you mean you don’t know where we’re going?” he boomed, livid. His obvious outrage only made Owen laugh even harder. “Surely you have some sort of plan! Are we to just roam the realm aimlessly?”
“Oh, I didn’t say I didn’t have a plan,” the hunter said, rubbing a tear from the corner of his eye. “It’s just not as specific as you might like. Now a deal is a deal, and I still intend to investigate what these reported attacks are all about. Think what you want of me, but I be a man of my word. A straight deal I made. The girl in exchange for me service. I haven’t built my reputation on swindling folks out of their coin. I’ve honored all my contracts.”
Liam paused, considering the hunter’s words. Indeed, his claims of being business savvy as well as a mercenary were most likely true. He could have never gained so many contracts had he been known as a swindler. “So if you don’t know where we’re going, how can you possibly have a plan?” Liam asked.
“I am in search of a few ‘business associates’ of mine, and at this time I be unaware of their exact location,” Owen answered, deciding Liam’s second question was just a continuation of his first, therefore he could provide some semblance of an answer. “But they always seem to find me, all right. So you see, we just have to keep moving until our paths cross.”
“And what of Viola?” Liam asked, gesturing towards her. “You know her secret as well as I. Have you figured that into your plans?”
Owen raised a silencing hand. “You’ve asked your question and I’ve answered as best as I can. Ask me nothing else.”
Beaten and frustrated, Liam flopped down beside the hunter and watched Xavier make his way over to Viola, a bag in hand.
She looked up quickly, startled. Placing the bag near her feet, Xavier drew back his hood. She gasped, seeing his face for the first time. He was so young. Shaggy blond bangs hung down over the top portion of his face. He gave his head a shake, revealing his light blue eyes. “Would you like to see something?” he asked, his soft voice sounding even younger than his boyish looks would indicate. Viola’s heart skipped a beat when he smiled at her. Voice caught in her throat, all she could do was nod.
He stripped off his riding gloves, revealing silver rings on each finger. Unlatching the leather bag, he retrieved what looked like some sort of wooden doll. The doll had large eyes with black hair. It wore a tiny set of armor, and its long nose was hooked down over its mouth. It looked like a little knight.
“This is Brom,” he said, laying the doll near her feet. In a rapid series of motion, he tapped all his rings on different parts of the elaborate toy, then drew his hands away. Visible only when catching the light just right, she could see what looked like tiny strands running from his fingers to the doll. As thin as spider webbing they were. “Say hello, Brom.”
His fingers twitched ever so slightly as the doll opened and closed its eyes. Little hands rose up to rub them as it came awake, rising up to its feet. It stretched, arms quivering in the air while its mouth ope
ned in a wide yawn. Viola clapped her hands, an ear-to-ear grin splitting her face. To her eyes, seeing the doll come to life was absolutely magical. Brom winked, dipping down into a low bow.
The hunter shook his head as he watched his apprentice mesmerize the girl with his puppet tricks. “She has the mind of a simple child,” he grumbled.
“Not true,” Liam corrected, rather enjoying the show himself. “I find her to be quite intelligent. Although I admit she is socially underdeveloped, that is not the same as being simple.”
“You don’t say,” Owen groaned. “Please enlighten me, homeless mystic.”
“She’s been isolated from people her entire life,” Liam continued, ignoring the hunter’s sarcasm. “Children playing with others is crucial for their growth. Years of social development have been stolen from her. It’s like trying to grow a tree in a pot. It will start out fine, but at some point it will become woefully stunted. What she needs is time with other—” He stopped in mid-sentence.
“Laberaths?” Owen questioned, his sarcastic tone returning. “Human children, perhaps?” Liam fell silent. “There is a reason she’s been isolated her whole life, mystic. In truth...she shouldn’t even exist.” After a moment of silence he whistled to Xavier, who was busy making the puppet do a jig of sorts, Viola clapping in time to the unheard song. “Enough with that...toy! Time to get some rest.” He turned back to Liam. “And I suggest you do the same.”
“That apprentice of yours is quite talented,” Liam said, rising to his feet.
“I suppose that’s true,” Owen admitted, stripping off his flexible armor. “That toy of his seems to fetch quite a bit of coin when we visit the local taverns. Now you and Viola can go ahead and sleep in the wagon.”
“Then goodnight it is,” said Liam, heading away. He paused, then turned back briefly. “I’ll have another question for you in the morning,” he warned, before heading towards Viola.
“I’ve no doubt,” Owen groaned to himself, crawling on hands and knees towards his bedroll.
