My eyes focused on the wounds of the man. Deep lacerations. Some stab wounds. Knives? No. Claws. He had lost a lot of blood, but Cindy’s magic was hastily knitting his flesh back together. He would live. Probably.
The wounds were not the unusual part of the scene, however. Rather, it was the striking resemblance the wounded man held to Guy. Same nose, bone structure, and even the same mop of short black hair. And, above all that, a same underlying essence behind the eyes. While Guy may have looked desperate, and the man pained, they both looked as if they had seen the same things. Good and bad.
Brett spotted me and his relief was palpable. He glanced towards Guy and the wounded man and, before he had to make a decision to come to me or stay by his friend’s side, I cleared the floor.
“Cindy! What can I do to help?” I asked.
Cindy looked up at me, a bit surprised. She must be focusing hard to not have heard me enter.
“He’s lost a lot of blood. But I’m focusing on repairing the damage. Can you incant a litany of vitality?”
I nodded. It wasn’t one of the spells that I could incant instinctively through my connection with Treth, but I had memorised and practiced using it through the local weyline.
I placed my forefinger and thumb over the man’s heart, examining his face closer. It was wracked with pain, but I could still see it clearly. He was definitely related to Guy in some way.
While I had a host of healing spells at my disposal through my spiritual connection, this was more reliable. While I had to rely on feeling and instinct for the others, normal wizardry was about precision and memorisation. I had memorised this basic healing spell and its words of healing light like most of the Crusaders.
I began incanting, the words rising up from my lips like honey. Golden runes seemed to circle around my head and, with each crescendo of my litany, snaked their way down my arm and through my fingers, towards the man’s heart.
With every pulse of healing energy emanating from Cindy and me, the man’s writhing slowed and then ceased, and his eyes began to calm.
Finally, Cindy stopped. I continued incanting, until she touched my arm, lightly. I ceased, letting the unfinished spell words fall limp in the air.
“Good spell-work,” Cindy whispered, pulling me back lightly to give Guy and the man some room.
The man, still groggy, began to lift himself up, just as Guy embraced him. I felt both Treth and Brett’s shock at the open display of affection from our usually reserved comrade.
Guy and the man held each other, for just a bit, until the man’s face changed from relief, to fear.
“We have to go!” he said, then spoke a string of Xhosa words, punctuated by clicks.
Guy responded in Xhosa, leaving most of us in the lurch as to what was going on.
Before the man could continue speaking, Cindy interjected.
“You aren’t going anywhere. We’ve stopped you from dying, but your newly knitted flesh is still tender. It could rip like a paper stitch.”
“But…”
“No buts!”
The man didn’t seem to be adept at handling Cindy, as he was about to open his mouth to argue.
“Before we do anything,” I interjected, to prevent Cindy from dropping Guy’s relative into a coma (with the use of a blunt object, rather than a spell). “Who are you? What happened?”
“My name is Themba,” he answered, his eyes flickering recognition. He, of course, knew who I was. “Themba Mgebe?”
“Guy’s brother?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Cousin.”
“But brother is close enough,” Guy added. He was almost back to his impassivity, but I noted a hint of gratitude behind his eyes.
Themba looked back at his cousin. “Guy, we have to leave. They know we’re here. All of them. We can’t afford to rest.”
Guy took a step back, involuntarily, as I interjected again.
“Who knows you’re here?”
Themba spun his head. His gaze drilled its way into my head. It spoke of one overwhelming feeling, barely held back. Fear.
“The Blood! They know we’re in Hope City. They’ve killed most of us. And they’re coming to finally finish us off!”
Guy didn’t just stumble this time. He fell, caught only by Cindy, who directed him to a chair. Seeing the almost invulnerable Guy Mgebe collapse like that…it made my skin go ice cold.
“Who are the Blood?” Brett finally asked. It seemed that even he didn’t know about this part of Guy’s past.
“The Izingane Zegazi,” Guy answered, coldly. “The Children of Blood. The ruling vampire clan of the Zulu Empire’s western frontier. The monsters who took everything from us.”
“Why now? How?” I asked. I had pieced together enough info of Guy’s past to know he had fled vampires in his homeland. But that had been years ago.
“A vampire never forgets. And if you kill a vampire of a bloodline, their final moments are sent to all their kindred. Not just images, but scents, sounds. Even the very essence of a human,” Guy explained, dispassionately. As if giving a lecture.
I knew that much from Miriam LeBlanc’s books and lectures. I was also intimately familiar with how far a vampire would go to avenge their kin.
Which raised the question: who had Guy killed?
Guy was silent, contemplating the floor. Cindy placed her hand on his back. There was a voiceless message there. That Guy didn’t have to explain any more. But, with the touch, he looked up with renewed strength.
“I have been hiding in Hope City for many years now. Themba and I…we were members of a rebel group, attempting to get independence for our homeland. But I was more than that. I was a Blood Hunter. A specialised vampire hunter. I dedicated my life to wiping out the Izingane Zegazi. For my sins, I fled my homeland. I knew I could never wipe out the Blood. So, I attempted to hide from them. But…it’s too late.”
Guy looked up at Cindy with a sense of profound resignation.
“Themba’s right. We have to go. Now! Before we put everyone else in danger.”
Spurred on by his cousin, Themba was already trying to pull himself off the table. I winced as he threatened to reopen his wounds.
Brett was frozen as Guy began to stand, about to leave forever. I wondered how much of this he knew about. Did he know that his best friend was on the verge of fleeing at any second?
I turned to Cindy and saw a different expression entirely. Anger.
“Themba Mgebe! Lie down, this instant. If you dare rip out my handiwork, so help me Titan, I will rip a hole so large in your chest that you’ll wish the Blood had found you first!”
Themba’s eyes widened as he froze. Cindy spun on Guy before he could even stand.
“And you! Did you think you could just leave? After everything you’ve done here. After everything we’ve done! You aren’t leaving. At least, not leaving without me.”
“I can’t endanger any more people,” Guy argued, defeated. “Least of all you.”
By my side, Brett silently seethed. A cross between betrayal and sadness. I wasn’t sure what feeling was more dominant. Rage at the vampires who had caused this, or resentment at his friend who would so readily flee.
Themba began to argue, entering the back and forth of Cindy and Guy arguing about if they should leave and when. Brett’s knuckles went white and he covered his face. The volume in the room rose and there was no end in sight.
I stepped forward.
“Guy Mgebe, you are not leaving Hope City. Do you hear me? That’s an order from your commander!” I bellowed, shocking everyone into silence.
“Kat,” he pleaded, for the first time in his life. “We can’t handle the Blood. The only thing I can do is make sure they don’t hurt you.”
“We can’t delay, Guy,” Themba hissed, wincing as he aggravated his wounds.
“You are forgetting that I kill vampires for a living. And, so do you! Standing in this room are two of the best vampire hunters I know. And that’s excluding Cindy, who ca
n melt a vampire with her spark. And me! Don’t forget that I banished a vampiric god. And that’s before I even got my coat.”
“The Blood aren’t like the other vampires,” Guy insisted. “They’re organised. Powerful. Ruthless. I only live now because a close friend sacrificed his life to save me from one of their lords. If they know we’re here, then it’s just a matter of time before they come put us all down.”
“Do they know you’re here?” I asked, pointedly. I turned to Themba. “What happened? What caused your wounds?”
“Ghoul attack. I saw the vamp but managed to get away. But she was Blood, I know it!”
“And where was this?”
“Plett…”
“How did you travel from Plett to Hope City in this state?” I asked, aghast.
“Healing scrolls,” he said. Cindy chewed her lip almost to ribbons. If Themba was this wounded after using healing scrolls, then he must have been extremely careless about his wounds. How terrifying were these Izingane Zegazi?
I knew that the western frontier of the Empire was run by vampires, but I pictured them as basically being legitimate versions of our local vampire gangsters. But, the way Themba and Guy seemed to treat them, it was as if they were demigods.
“Plett is all the way near the Three Point Line,” I said. “Which means they know you’re on this side of the border. Not necessarily in Hope City.”
“Where else would we go?” Themba said.
“Hope City is a big place. And there is a lot of ground to cover and CDF to avoid between here and the Three Point Line. If these Izingane Zegazi enter the city, we’d hear about it. It will take time before they track you down again. Ages.”
“Which means that we have time to run…” Guy replied, as Brett and Cindy stared daggers at him.
“No…” I said, letting the word hang in the air before continuing. “No more running. Crusaders don’t run. We’ve gone through too much and destroyed too much evil just to flee when some damn bloodsuckers come over the border. No. You aren’t going to run this time. It’s time to make a stand. When the Blood finally find us, we’ll be ready. And we’ll wipe them out so conclusively that they’ll never think of setting foot in Hope City ever again!”
My companions were stunned by my announcement. All except for Guy.
“It’s impossible,” he said. “We can’t do it.”
“Doing the impossible is what I do best.”
He looked on the verge of replying, as tears welled up in his eyes. They were sad, burdened tears. The kind that had been pent up for far too long. But, in them, there was also a sense of relief.
No more running.
When the vamps arrived, we’d kill them all.
Cindy ushered Brett and me out, with the pretence of moving Themba to the sick room. I suspected she wanted to talk to Guy in private. I felt simultaneously pitying and glad for his situation. Having someone that loves you give you a lecture was one of life’s pleasant backhands.
I closed the mosh pit’s doors behind me and turned to face Brett. He was still pale but was no longer seething.
“If Guy wasn’t so smitten with Cindy,” he said. “I’d think he’d fall in love with you after that.”
He said it as a joke, but he didn’t sound amused. I knew that his resentful tone wasn’t jealousy, however. I moved in to hug him.
“You mustn’t hold it against him. He had his reasons.”
“We’ve been friends for…it seems forever now. Ever since that night in the Karoo. And he never told me that he was just hiding here. That he could disappear at any moment. Didn’t think to ask me for help.”
“He was probably trying to keep you safe,” I replied, meaning to console him, but my mind was now elsewhere. Brett noticed, and looked me in the eyes, inquiringly.
“What’s up? Did something else happen?”
“Yes,” I answered, simply. “My aunt’s alive. And I need to go to New Zealand.”
Chapter 9.
Plans
Plane travel was still one of the primary methods of transportation on Earth, even after the Cataclysm. But it did now have its own magical dangers. Drakes and dragons sometimes mistook planes for tasty treats and, if a rift-surge hit while a plane was in the air, then its power would be taken down and it would make a nice and hasty retreat towards the surface.
But, even with these newfound dangers, there was no quicker way around the planet.
Despite all that was going on, I had to go. Now. Phillip was stern on that point. Anzac wouldn’t wait until we’d finished off the Blood – if that was even possible.
So, the plan was to fly to New Zealand. Rift-surges were semi-seasonal, and the Vortex fluxes were less pronounced over the Indian Ocean this time of year. And dragons and drakes wouldn’t be hanging out over the ocean. Well, most of them at least.
In the day that followed, Themba was moved into Guy and Cindy’s guestroom. He didn’t like remaining idle, but it seemed my reputation was enough to convince him and Guy to stay. That, or Cindy’s tongue-lashing.
I let the Crusaders know about my trip at a briefing that morning. I left out the details but made it clear that it was urgent. Trudie and Pranish, of course, insisted on coming. Heather and Hammond also wanted to come, but I declined. Cindy and Guy needed to prepare for the Blood. Which meant they needed as many older generation Crusaders present as possible. I was already feeling guilty for leaving. And Brett’s non-negotiable coming with me was already taking one of the best vamp hunters away from the crew.
I didn’t know what I was going to face in New Sintar. And which hunters I could spare from the secret preparations against the Blood. But the Crusaders made it easy for me.
“Where the alpha goes, I go,” Senegal insisted. Couldn’t argue with that, as Trudie gave her consent. And she was his boss. Not me. They were lucky I wasn’t an insecure werewolf alpha.
Surprisingly, another candidate stepped up.
“New Zealand is a warzone,” Kyong Man explained. “And I have the best experience when it comes to humanoid combatants.”
He used to be a bounty hunter before taking up monster hunting, so he had a point. But it was for another reason that I wanted him to accompany me.
He could punch away bullets.
Cindy and Guy both committed themselves to running the Crusader’s in my stead, but I knew that with her purifier work and Guy’s less than stellar experience with administration, they would need help.
“Do I really have to?!” Conrad whined, as I gave him the keys to the HQ.
“You have the most experience with leading a monster hunting agency. Cindy and Guy need to focus on preparations for…our uninvited guests.”
“What does retired even mean to you?!” he grunted, but accepted the keys all the same.
I doubted that he would need to do much, anyway. Jane would probably seize complete control after a single day.
In a way, preparations had been too easy. Phillip processed our travel papers in a day. Usually, getting permission to travel to warzones took at least three. But, if my time in Hope City had taught me anything, it was that the Council could be decisive if it wanted to be.
I had expected more trouble getting my affairs in order, but everyone came to the party pretty easily. The Crusaders were already packed, and the hunt could effectively run on autopilot. I trusted that Cindy and Guy could handle any crises that erupted. Probably better than I could.
Despite all this, I didn’t feel at ease. I was leaving my city. I had never left the State of Good Hope. Avathor didn’t count. And travel wasn’t something people did lightly in a world where you had to negotiate with dragons for airspace. And Hope City’s neighbours weren’t too friendly.
I thought that the first time I left Hope City would be in crossing the Badlands to see Goldfield. Brett told me it was overrated, but there were some historical sights worth seeing.
But, it seems that New Zealand was going to be my first destination. And after that…New Sintar. A
nation run by elves. Elves that had captured my aunt…
On the final night before we left, I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t even try. I waited for Brett to fall asleep. He slept soundly, most nights. Nightmares or not. Feeling confined by hot blankets and the feeling that I was missing something, I escaped to the balcony, and let the cold night air wash over me. It was not as refreshing as I had hoped.
“This time tomorrow,” I whispered, feeling Treth’s presence. “We’ll be flying.”
Treth had expressed some excitement about that. Sometimes, I forgot that he was from a medieval world. He had gotten used to many aspects of modern civilisation, but there was still so much he didn’t know about. Well, rich coming from me. I hadn’t been on a plane either.
But I didn’t feel excitement from Treth now. He manifested next to me and leant up against the balcony railing, looking wistfully at the night sky.
“And the day after that?” he asked.
I bit my lip while rubbing my arms to warm them up. I’d left my coat inside. While Ismail’s discovery didn’t exactly unnerve me, the idea that my coat was sentient did pose some difficult questions. Okay, maybe it did unnerve me.
I pondered Treth’s question. And the truth of the matter was…
“I don’t know.”
“This agent says that we must help the humans fight the elves,” Treth replied. “But…is it really our war?”
“It became our war when they took my aunt,” I hissed.
Treth nodded, slowly.
“Perhaps. But, I have reservations all the same. The crusade was always about fighting monsters. But elves…they aren’t monsters.”
Unbidden, an image of Darius popped into my head. I banished the thought of his evil, grinning face.
He was a monster. But Treth was right. Not all elves were. Like not all humans were good.
I sighed, just as the door to the balcony opened.
Brett exited the HQ, shirtless and armed with a cigarette and lighter.
“Even vampires feel the cold, Callahan. Put a shirt on,” I jabbed, but my voice betrayed my lack of enthusiasm.
The Silver Star (Kat Drummond Book 11) Page 8
