Of Bone and Ruin

by T. A. White

  Tate gulped. That was so creepy. Ai at least pretended to be semi human.

  “Ai?” the boy’s eyes became vague as if he was shifting through his memories.

  Christopher shouted a word and flung a golden web in the boy’s direction. The boy held up one palm, halting the web before sending it crashing back on Christopher. The man screamed as his creation wrapped around him, biting into his flesh and raising nasty welts where the golden threads touched. It even burned through some of his clothes.

  “You caught me once through your tricks, mage. Do not think you will be successful a second time,” the boy sneered. He had a lot more emotion in his voice than Ai. He seemed almost human.

  “Saviors rescue me,” Roslyn chanted.

  “Those traitors cannot help you here.” The boy turned to glare at her.

  “Look, just let us go. I can make sure that Brown Eyes never bothers you again,” Tate said, holding up her hands. Brute force wasn’t going to work. They needed to try reason.

  “I can do that myself.”

  Tate’s eyes went to Christopher, moaning on the ground. Even as she watched, his moan changed to giggles that Tate knew were going to haunt her dreams for years. That man was more than a little insane.

  “Point taken.” She needed something else.

  “What if we promise never to come here again?” Roslyn burst out.

  “And will you promise to keep all your other meat sacks from traipsing through my territory as well?” He cocked his head as his lips gave a derisive twist.

  “We can’t do that,” Tate said over Roslyn’s ‘yes.’ She’d learned from Ai that lying was not a good idea when dealing with one of the minor gods. They could tell. “We don’t have the power to make promises like that.”

  The duke crept up from behind, his blue whip held loosely in his hand. Tate shook her head at him. The last thing she needed was for him to make the boy angry. She was almost certain that his whip was useless against him.

  “Not even him?” The boy’s smile was sly as he turned his head toward the duke.

  “Not even him.” Thankfully the duke didn’t try to protest out of false ego. “He represents just one of the factions interested in this place. He can’t speak for the others.”

  “That’s a pity.” The boy gestured with one hand and Roslyn and the duke fell, as if puppets who’d just had their strings cut. Tate stared in horror. He’d been playing with them the whole time.

  The boy stepped forward, lifting one slim hand and pressing a finger against Tate’s forehead.

  There was a brief falling sensation and then Tate stopped abruptly, darkness crowding around.

  “Hello,” she called. Fear was already starting to encroach.

  “You fear the dark,” the boy said. He didn’t sound like a boy anymore. He sounded like a man. Young and untried. He stepped around her. His appearance had changed. He'd grown, his flesh filling out and losing some of the paleness.

  “A little, yes.” Tate looked around. What she had thought was complete black before now had pinpricks of light all around them. It was beautiful.

  “I’ve moved our consciousness to a place where we could speak undisturbed.”

  Tate fought to keep her thoughts off her face. They’d been pretty undisturbed after he cut the other two’s strings.

  “You’ve met one like me before.” It wasn’t a question. The boy’s eyes gleamed with avarice.

  Tate gulped. How did he know that?

  “Yes.”

  “Name.”

  Tate hesitated.

  “Or did you not bother to get that.”

  Tate had a feeling not knowing the name would be seen as an insult worthy of death. “Ai. Her name was Ai.”

  She really hoped this being, whatever he was, god, ghost or some form of person, didn’t use this information to hurt Ai.

  The boy paced away from her. Tate watched, unable to get over how he seemed to have grown what looked like five years in mere moments.

  “She must have had a reason to help you. She wouldn’t have done that for just anyone.” He spun to face Tate. “Who are you to her?”

  She didn’t have the answer to that.

  He was suddenly in front of her, the little boy again. “Who?” he shouted in an inhuman voice that roiled through the vastness around them.

  “I don’t know. She said she’d been waiting for me.”

  The youth was there again, his face thoughtful. “Curious. She must be playing some game.” He tapped his mouth thoughtfully. “Should we help or hinder? Destroy her plans?”

  Tate watched as he paced back and forth, his form shimmering in and out between boy, youth and man. It was mind bending.

  The bracelet tattoo that Tate had picked up the last time she was in this room seeped out of her skin. It stretched out, spreading itself impossibly thin as it rose to eye level.

  The boy paused in his pacing and stepped closer to the metal. His hand hovered next to it, as if he wanted to touch but didn’t dare. Tate couldn’t decipher the expression on his face. Something between rage, yearning, and sadness.

  Ilith pressed close, watching the boy with something approaching the fascination a lion might have for a gazelle.

  Edible?

  No, I don’t think so. Tate didn’t want the boy guessing at what she was thinking.

  We could try, was the hopeful response.

  I thought it was too dangerous to attempt a change, Tate thought back.

  Tate got the impression of a thoughtful cant to Ilith’s head as if she was thinking. Not here. We’re between. Should be safe.

  Let’s wait and see. If the boy seemed like he was an immediate threat, then they’d try. She didn’t want to act aggressively and perhaps destroy her chance of getting out of here alive. The biggest reason was she didn’t even know where they were. She wasn’t sure she could get them back to the real world.

  “We’ve decided.” The youth dropped his hand and looked at Tate. “We will let you go.”

  Oh good. Her decision not to let Ilith out was repaid.

  “In return you will carry a message for us.”

  “A message?” Tate asked.

  “To Ai.”

  Damn, she’d been afraid of that.

  “That might be a problem.” For starters Tate wasn’t sure how to find her without venturing deep into the catacombs and into the territory of the Tsuchigon, beasts with the body of a spider and the head of a human. Worst the creatures had a taste for human flesh.

  “Your other option is remaining here to die.”

  “I’ll do it.” That wasn’t an option she was willing to take. “What’s the message?”

  “Tell her – the sleepers awaken. Owl hunts again.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yes.” He blinked at her. “Is that not enough?”

  “Nope, it’s perfect. Short and easy to remember.”

  “There’s one more piece.” He touched her forehead and the world spun around her, a kaleidoscope of lights, spinning and spinning until it stopped.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Someone was shaking her arm. Tate groaned and rolled over, shrugging them off. She just needed a few more minutes.

  Something shifted in her shoulder. Fire arced from it.

  Tate gasped and sat up. She touched the knife still embedded in her shoulder, it was tender to the touch. “Yup, that’s still there.” It was pretty impressive really given all that had happened since it had landed in her flesh.

  “You’re alive.” Roslyn seemed relieved. She’d been the one shaking her. “We woke up and you weren’t moving. I couldn’t feel your pulse and you weren’t breathing. I was sure you were dead.”

  “Nope, not dead.”

  Tate looked around. The duke was watching them from over Roslyn’s shoulder, his blue whip of light out and seemed to be acting as a threat against bad behavior from Christopher.

  Christopher sat, legs folded and crossed in front of him and his hands tied behind his
back. Burn marks from the webbing decorated his face and torso. He gave Tate a sinister smile when he noticed her looking at him.

  “Back from the dead. You really are the perfect experiment subject. You’re practically indestructible.”

  “Unlike you who had his ass kicked after his plan backfired.”

  “And yet I learned so much.” His smile was beatific in his peace. As if he’d stared at eternity and unlocked the secrets of the universe.

  “Probably the last thing you ever learn.”

  Elijah was still unconscious next to him.

  “How do we get out of here?” Roslyn asked.

  Tate glanced around. They were back in the chamber under the mosaic room.

  “What about the ladder leading to the room above this?” she asked.

  “The door is locked at the top. I think the altar is over it, making it impossible to lift the trap door.”

  Tate was out of ideas. She was tired with a headache from the sonic berserker. Her shoulder had turned into one massive throbbing pain, and she was bleeding again. She didn’t have the energy right now to think let alone find a way to get them back to the surface.

  Night prowled into the room. Tate blinked at him, sure he was a mirage.

  You’re a hard woman to track down. He stopped, sat and licked a paw.

  Jost rounded the corner, stopping and staring at them with startled eyes before shouting over his shoulder, “They’re in here.”

  “Look at that; you brought reinforcements,” Tate said, giving Night a goofy smile.

  Of course I did, you crazy woman. I remember the last time you got into trouble in one of these death traps. No way was I carrying your bloody person out of here. He gave his paw one last look. I have my coat to think of. Can’t have your blood mucking up my fur.

  “You’re all heart,” she said.

  “Tate.” A flash of boy and Tate found herself surrounded by a pair of arms. “I’m sorry I ran.”

  “Dewdrop,” Tate cried. She grabbed hold of him and let go of him just as quickly, her shoulder screaming in pain. “I thought you were dead.”

  “I’m so sorry I left you.” His eyes were wet and face red as if he’d been crying.

  “No, you did the absolute best thing. You saved yourself and then went and got help. If you’d stayed he probably would have killed you.”

  Try not to run off by yourself next time. Night’s voice was gruff in her head. The shrimp was beside himself, wailing and carrying on. Crying about how he’d left Tate to die.

  Dewdrop drew back from Tate to glare at Night. “I did no such thing. I expressed myself in a forceful manner to draw attention to the problem at hand.”

  Night chuffed and shook his head, his pelt sliding and then settling back into place.

  Tate leaned back on a hand. “I didn’t exactly run off by myself, you know.”

  Because kidnapping sounds so much better. This is what, the third time?

  It was Tate’s turn to scoff.

  “Well, look at that, the dragon seems to be fine. Just as we said she would be,” Seigal said, Ward at his back.

  Night’s ears went flat against his head and Dewdrop’s gaze was unfriendly.

  “They’re the reason we didn’t get here earlier,” Dewdrop said quietly. “They tried to get the rescue canceled. It was only when Ryu said we’d go without them and that they would be reported to their superiors that they gave in to help us search.”

  “Why ask them to help in the first place?” Tate asked. Ward and his friend sauntered into the chamber. They looked at Christopher on the ground, Elijah next to him and didn’t lift an eyebrow.

  “We didn’t have a choice. They showed up before Night and I arrived to report your abduction to Jost. Technically, this fell under their jurisdiction.”

  Tate found herself less and less impressed with the Black Order if the likes of these two called the place home. It wasn’t just that they were incompetent. They were stupid about it.

  Ward stopped in front of them, using his height to look down on the three of them. “I could have you three brought up on charges for inciting a rescue that was unnecessary and cost the empire valuable time and resources for what turns out to be something that was blown out of proportion.”

  Tate just stared at the man. Was he blind? Maybe his mother had dropped him on the head as a child, irrevocably damaging his ability to understand things or make good decisions. If that was the case, it was Tate’s duty to be understanding. It was the only thing she could think of to explain the absurd words coming out of his mouth.

  She couldn’t even bring her thoughts together to formulate a response.

  Night let out a rumbling growl.

  The man’s gaze switched to him. “I hear your application to recognize your species as one entitled to the rights and privileges under the sentient species act is under review. It will be my pleasure to testify as to how close you are to your base animal self.”

  Night’s head dropped and his lips pulled back in a snarl.

  “Night. Don’t play into his hands,” Tate warned.

  “Did I hear right? That you were threatening a recently kidnapped woman, who from the looks of it has been tortured, as well as the individuals instrumental in finding and saving her?” Jost inquired, his voice unnaturally calm. He gave Ward an expectant look.

  It was a trap. Tate had seen Jost use this method before. Ask a rhetorical question and then wait for the unsuspecting victim to try to dig their way out. She felt no sympathy for what was about to happen to these two. Jost’s way was technically more civilized and more legal, but no less brutal than what Tate was thinking about doing to the two.

  As a mediator for the empire, Jost commanded a certain level of respect. Judging by the way the Black Order’s men looked, like someone had just left a pile of steaming shit in their Order’s hall, they knew it too.

  “My lord, we were just remarking on how the dragon seems to have come out of this escapade with little damage while a noted academic and his colleague seem to have been assaulted.”

  Jost did not look impressed with the explanation. “I don’t know about you, but I’d consider a knife sticking out of a shoulder ample evidence of things afoot that might need more explaining.”

  Ward’s eyes went to Tate’s shoulder. The knife was still there and her shirt had blood down the front. She didn’t have to try to look pitiful and exhausted. She simply was.

  His jaw firmed and he looked back at Jost.

  Jost’s smile was unamused. “Perhaps next time instead of leaping to baseless conclusions you should take the time to assess the situation and find out what’s really going on.”

  “Of course, my lord.” Ward didn’t look chastened, merely like he was swallowing words he feared would get him into further trouble.

  “Why don’t you secure the two prisoners over there? That is what you are here for.”

  Ward gave him a stilted nod then he and his friend walked over to where the duke guarded Christopher and Elijah.

  Jost waited until they were out of hearing range before turning to Tate, his face grave. “What exactly did happen?”

  Tate explained the events leading up to Christopher kidnapping her. How he said he’d killed Dewdrop, his ultimate plan in the chamber and how he thought he could imprison a minor god. She tried to sum up as much as she could. He could ask her more later. When she wasn’t covered in blood and exhausted.

  She left out the pieces Christopher had told her about her past. They weren’t relevant to the situation, and she wasn’t sure she believed his explanation, nor did she want others privy to that knowledge before she decided how much stock to put into it. She also left out the boy’s message for Ai.

  Ward and Seigal hauled Christopher to his feet, shoving him in front of them. They conscripted some of the men Jost had brought with him to help carry Elijah, who was still unconscious.

  “Wait, what about the Duke? Aren’t you going to arrest him too?” Tate asked, stepping forwa
rd.

  “Tate,” Jost said.

  Ward gave Tate an insulted look. “He’s committed no crime.”

  “He helped them,” Tate said, aghast. He might not have kidnapped her or forced her into that circle but he was definitely complicit. Not to mention he’d helped Elijah with the smuggling operation.

  “Enough.” Jost grabbed her by the arm and jerked her back.

  “Jost.”

  “No, quiet. There are things you don’t understand. If you continue further, you’ll just make enemies who will not rest until you and those close to you are destroyed.” Jost shot a meaningful glance at Night and Dewdrop, both of whom looked angry about the turn of events.

  “I think it’s too late for that. He declared himself an enemy when he helped them stick me into a circle with a crazy guardian. I almost died. His daughter almost died. To say nothing of the harm he would have brought to this world if they had succeeded.”

  “I don’t care. Drop this. I will not ask again.”

  Tate’s jaw locked at his tone, her eyes holding his as temper ran through her. He didn’t budge, his gaze flinty. With a long exhale, she relaxed and stepped back to let the men from the Black Order take the two prisoners they held.

  “This is wrong,” Tate said in a soft voice.

  “Many things in this world are wrong.”

  Roslyn looked from her father to Tate, her expression indecisive. Tate avoided her gaze. She knew in her head that Roslyn hadn’t been responsible for what happened, but right now it was hard not to blame the woman for the part her father had played in events.

  Roslyn’s face fell when Tate looked the other way. She nodded once, her lips firming before she strode to her father.

  “I rescind my claim to the Spiritly bloodline,” Roslyn said in a clear, ringing voice.

  “Saviors’ curse it,” Jost exclaimed, following that up with a couple of choice words that Tate hadn’t heard since her time on the ship.

  She didn’t understand what had him so upset. Roslyn’s words were personal, more the type of thing said in a family squabble, but unimportant with all that was going on.

  The duke stared at his daughter with something approaching shock. His face lost all expression as he pulled on a mask and he gave her a cold look.