Broken Bonds (Mortal Intervention Book 1)

by Loftis, Nick

  “Quiet. I need to show you something.”

  He turned away from her rubbing his brow, trying to calm his thoughts. “Is there something I can call you other than Silver Daughter? It’s kind of a mouthful.”

  “The highest of my church call me Liv when I have unofficial business with them,” she said offhandedly with a small shrug. “It should do. Come on. We should get going. You have to be someplace else soon and I'm getting tired of babysitting you.”

  She motioned for him to follow her. Wil stared in bewilderment at her before trying to catch up to her. He wondered what the hell was wrong with her while he followed.

  “This was as close as I could get us. He keeps some sort of barrier around himself, nullifying the effect of ethereal magic.” She explained quietly and quickly.

  “What keeps a barrier around what?” Wil inquired. “Where are we exactly?” he had never seen anything like where they were. She had teleported them from a busy street market to someplace that had to be underground. Veins of pulsing opalescent light covered the rock around them, and the ceiling- if there was one- was lost in the darkness above them. It was breathtaking. He had traveled all over this world- had even been to others- but had never seen anything like it.

  “We’re near the center of Vaude. Like I said before: there’s something I need to show you,” her voice dropped to a barely audible whisper as they moved. “It’s what you agreed to stop.”

  The hairs on Wil’s neck began to stand up. A growing sense of foreboding swept over him. He gripped his revolver, but it didn’t keep his feet from faltering as he followed closely.

  “You can feel it now?” Liv whispered. “Almost there; just to that ridge there,” she pointed. “No more talking.”

  Wil just nodded. He didn't think he could say anything anyway. He was almost choking on the knot of fear in his throat. He couldn’t describe it; it felt unworldly somehow. The fear wasn’t just instinctual, but suggestive, compulsive. Whatever was down here did not want to be found, it was yelling at you to be afraid of it and he was happy to oblige.

  Of course he didn't and they dropped to their stomachs when they reached the edge of a hole the size of a barn. There was no sign of the earth that had been moved, but there was something vaguely humanoid in the center of the hole. It appeared to be sleeping.

  Wil pulled a beat up pair of silver goggles with a leather strap and tinted lenses out of his jacket and put them on so he could see better. The goggles telescoped out and he could see the thing clearly, curled up in the fetal position. It looked to be around seven or eight feet tall. Claws, the size of baby arms, tipped its oversized hands and feet. The thing was intensely malnourished, with every bone visible under the sickly gray skin. There weren’t any lips covering its rotting teeth and instead of a nose it had three slits arranged in a small triangle.

  Liv tugged on the end of Wil’s coat and tossed her head in the direction they had come from. Wil pushed himself up and slipped on a chunk of loose dirt. His chest slammed back down on the ground and a piece of earth tumbled down the side of the hole. Wil shimmied backwards quickly and stood up once he had passed Liv. She was terrified.

  The silence was broken by an unnerving mewling from the hole. Whatever was sleeping down there had woken up.

  Neither one hesitated before running to the spot they had teleported to. The mewling teetered off with a guttural growl, and was quickly followed by tumbling earth as the creature clambered up the steep wall.

  The monstrosity had topped the edge of the hole and its massive black eyes zeroed in on the two running away. It sped after them on all fours, dragging a distended belly across the ground.

  "Can it block my magic?" Wil asked breathily, looking over his shoulder repeatedly. He had to try something. He wasn’t ready to die just yet. Especially by the hands of a beast he didn’t know anything about.

  "If you're going to try something just do it; don't wait on me," she snapped. She wasn't even breaking a sweat, though her face was pale and her eyes were wide from terror.

  Wil grabbed her wrist with his mechanical hand and spun them around to face the creature while focusing on a rune etched over his wrist. A blue glow enveloped his hand and then suddenly the two of them were invisible.

  The creature teetered to a stop. It stood up and looked around, sniffing audibly. At this distance Wil could get a good look at it. The features on its face were humanoid, similar to the gods, something about its features were too symmetrical, too perfect. It didn’t look natural. The being took another step forward, closing the gap from mere feet to inches, it’s belly still scratching the dirt.

  "If its working we should be okay," Wil said quietly. “I’ve stuck us in a pocket universe; he shouldn’t be able to see or hear us.” At least he hoped so. He had no idea what the creature was, but he already knew he was in way over his head if a goddess was afraid of it.

  Liv stayed quiet and unmoving until the creature turned around and meandered back to it's hole on two legs, yawning and stretching it’s malformed arms. She didn’t teleport them out until she was sure that it had gone back to sleep.

  Wil was slightly jarred by the sudden appearance of stone buildings on both sides of him. It took him a few seconds longer than it should have to ask, "What the hell was that thing?" His entire body shook from the unspent adrenaline of being so close to death.

  "The Creator, The Devourer, World Destroyer," Liv answered softly. "My grandfather-of sorts- if you prefer. He created the Gods and this world." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She spoke normally now, seemingly unmoved by their experience. "Vaude has matured enough for Him to devour it; gods and all. My father and I want you to stop the cycle."

  He snorted. He couldn’t help himself. "Isn't that a problem for the Pantheon to deal with? He definitely seemed way out of my league. And there’s no way I’m stronger than any one god in the Pantheon." Wil looked up and down the alley they were in. He could see lights at both end, but no stars above. Where the hell were they?

  "We're in Duthane Pass," Liv answered his thought. "The Pantheon as a whole is divided on if he even exists. My father has been adamant about the threat the Creator poses for centuries, but no one wants to listen. Besides, our magic won't work against Him. He created it so he's shielded from it.

  "I have contacts here that may be willing to help here. They run the Winter's Breath Tavern on the third floor. Go introduce yourself and decide where to start; I'll be back around in a day or two to assist you if necessary."

  Before Wil could demand more information she teleported, leaving him in the dark. He kicked the wall in front of him and headed out of the alley to his left after recomposing himself. He hadn’t been in Duthane Pass since before Crell abducted him. It had been a dingy little collection of wooden huts at the bottom of the world's biggest canyon the last time he had been here. Now, it was a massive city carved into the sides of a narrow canyon without any care for ease of navigation. As he walked out of the alley, he saw there were several stories to it now, with bridges built across the pass in a haphazard fashion. There had obviously been no concern for city planning. All kinds of people bustled around him, keeping the single road at the bottom from ever being silent.

  "Excuse me," he asked a dwarf walking past him, "do you know where the Winter's Breath Tavern is? The lady who suggested it did a piss poor job of telling me how to get there." He smiled at the dwarf like an idiot. They weren’t known for their kindness to strangers.

  The dwarf eyed him skeptically from under bushy blonde eyebrows, but stopped momentarily to give him directions. "Keep going the way you're headed. Take the staircase at the end of the street on the left up two floors. It'll be the building covered with ice." He had been annoyed, but he answered nicely enough.

  "Thank you, Sir," Wil said brightly, still smiling at the dwarf. He continued on without glancing back at the dwarf. It was carved into the stone wall, turning on itself half way up to lead to the second floor of the pass. It repeated the pat
tern up to the third floor, where it ended despite there being a fourth, fifth, and sixth floor as far as he could tell.

  It was the first building in front of Wil when he reached the third floor. The walls did indeed look like ice. The painting had been done so excellently that the street lamps glinted off of them convincingly. He touched it. The wall was cold to the touch and slippery. He was astounded, it wasn't a painting. How the hell did they manage to keep the wall frozen? The massive wooden doors were open, betraying the laughter of the patrons and the aroma of the food they were serving tonight.

  Wil walked in with his head down and made a beeline for an empty stool at the middle of the bar. He’d have to remember to ask about the wall. He hadn’t seen magic like that in centuries.

  "What can I-" the barkeep dropped the bottle he had when he turned to his new customer. "Wil?" the man's voice was toneless and familiar.

  Wil turned his attention from the group of gnomes he was watching at the end of the bar and almost fell off his stool when he recognized the man. His slicked back silver hair was immaculate; not a single strand stood out of place. He had startling blue eyes, the same color as deep ice, set deep into a thin, wrinkle free face. Despite working behind the bar, he wore a three-piece suit that matched his eyes with a black shirt.

  "I hadn't even- Winter- It's good to- how old- shit," Wil babbled. He forgot about everything he had been through today upon seeing his old friend. He leaned over the bar to look at the mess and waved his hand at it, a rune on his pinky lighting up a bright pink, and the broken glass flew into a trash can and the liquid evaporated in a puff of steam. He grinned up at Winter. "How old are you?" The Silver Daughter couldn't have brought him forward through time, could she? He didn’t look like he changed at all.

  "Thank you," Winter said standing up. He took two shot glasses from underneath the bar and a flask from inside the jacket he wore. "Six-hundred, seventy-nine. This," he poured both of them a couple fingers worth of amber liquid from the flask, emptying it, "is six-hundred, forty-eight." He pushed one of the glasses into Wil's hand, smiling. "To nearly seven centuries of friendship, even if it has been a while."

  “I never thought I’d see you again,” Wil added in bewilderment.

  They clinked glasses and drank the old spirit.

  Wil grimaced and coughed. "No matter how long that sits, it's never going to be good," he said shaking his glass at Winter. His smile faltered. "I have to ask before anything else: how long ago did Crell take me?"

  Winter raised his eyebrows. "I was nineteen when we met and battled Death, so about six hundred and sixty years ago. You don’t remember?" He looked concerned.

  Wil shook his head, processing the number. It didn't feel that long to him. "No. Crell ordered Brax to never tell me when or where we were." Of course it could be longer or shorter than that, depending on how Crell decided to move them around. He didn't share that nightmarish thought.

  "Where is Brax then?" Winter asked, looking up at the door, expecting to see him walk through it. "Crell wouldn't have let you go anywhere without him, would he?"

  "Winter, I'm sure that man has something interesting to say, but you have other customers waiting to get their drinks," a woman shouted, cutting off Wil's most recent story. "I swear, you would run this business into the ground with how much you like to talk."

  Wil turned around to see who was berating his friend.

  The woman screamed and threw the tray of dishes she was carrying at Wil before he could get a good look at her. It took him by surprise and knocked him out of his seat before he could get a shield up. As he fell, he pulled out his revolver, before landing with a painful jolt on his shoulder.

  She glared down the stock of a small, automatic crossbow at him. Four of her fingers on her trigger hand were mechanical; the metal matching his arm.

  The temperature in the room dropped drastically, causing every surface to frost over. "Everyone out. We're closed," a commanding voice rumbled from behind the bar. Wil could feel the Compulsion in it, tempted to leave by it, but was able to feel the massive difference between it and what he had felt earlier.

  Everyone left quickly and quietly, scooting their chairs in and making sure nothing was a bigger mess than necessary. Money was also left on the tables to pay for the meals.

  Winter walked out from behind the door and shut the doors. "Put your weapons away. Both of you," he ordered quietly. There wasn't any Compulsion behind it. That made Wil want to leave even more. He wasn't sure what was going to happen next.

  Wil stood up and holstered his gun. He wasn't about to disobey a dragon.

  The woman on the other hand followed Wil with her crossbow.

  "I said to put it away, Gwen," Winter said sternly. He walked toward her from the doors, each step pronounced.

  Wil's eyes almost bugged out of his skull. "No; she can't be. Gwen was human and you said its been almost seven hundred years." He turned around to stare at Winter in bewilderment. “How is that even possible?”

  "Who are you?" she demanded, ignoring them both.

  "Wil," he grunted automatically, walking up to her until the crossbow was jammed into his chest. "Except for the hairstyle and puffier face, you look exactly like her."

  She really did look like his old friend. She was just as tall, the top of her head just making it to his chin. Her brown hair, which used to almost hang to her waist in a braid, was now cut short around her round face. Her cheeks had filled out a little bit from the starved face he had remembered, giving her the look of an overgrown pixie. She was dressed in subtle combat leathers that could be mistaken for street clothes if you didn't know what you were looking at.

  "It's her," Winter stated again. "The magic is older than us combined, but something about the bond between a dragon and its Hatcher keep each alive as long as the other. At least that’s all I could find out from a few decades of research when I had the time.”

  "Wil died," Gwen stated flatly, having a hard time accepting Wil's return. Her voice wasn't exactly the same either. It wasn't exactly deeper, but it was more mature. "Death killed him and Crell took his body." Her hazelnut eyes were getting glossy. She kept looking between the two with an expression of growing betrayal.

  "Crell didn't let me die. He kept me alive to work for him. I've been doing his dirty work since then and recently- I mean less than a week recently- he let me come back with Brax. Since then, Brax and I have been investigating this cult of the True God, waiting for Crell's next order."

  "Where's Brax then?" she inquired bluntly, keeping the crossbow pressed to his chest. Her fingers clinked quietly as she grasped it tighter.

  Wil swallowed audibly before answering, "We had a philosophical difference when a goddess he deemed 'evil' revealed herself to us." His good mood had soured a little.

  "The Silver Daughter?" Winter asked while clearing a small table. He didn't seem too surprised. "She's been in here a couple of times, trying to recruit us for something. Let's sit. Are you hungry?"

  "Now that you mention it I am." Wil took off his jacket and threw it onto the bar before sitting down at the table Winter just cleared. "I think I might be trying to recruit you for the same thing," he admitted rolling up his sleeves. “She’s the reason I’m here now.”

  "Put the crossbow away, Gwen," Winter told her again walking to the kitchen. "And give the poor man a beer; its been quite some time since we've seen him."

  Gwen lowered the crossbow but continued to scrutinize Wil. "It's really you?" she asked quietly, squinting at his mechanical arm.

  Without saying anything, he unbuttoned his vest so she could see the shadow of the metal plate, that covered his left side all the way down to his hip, through his shirt. "Know anyone else who has Crellian metal bolted to their side?"

  Gwen couldn't hold back anymore. She gave a quick sob and hugged Wil tightly around the neck and dropped the crossbow behind him. "I thought…"

  Wil hugged her back tightly, glad to see her again. Their friendship had been sho
rt before the battle with Death, but it had been a close one. Driven by the threat of dying at the hands of an ancient god had pushed them to work together in a way Wil had never done with someone before, making him think of her more than once the last few centuries.

  Winter gave a small cough. He was standing at the table with a platter of ham, potatoes, and bread. "I can always come back if you'd like," he offered. “The bar is closed, so you won't have any interruptions.”

  Gwen stiffened and pulled away from Wil in embarrassment, before walking to a tapped barrel behind the bar. Her cheeks were flushed pink as her voice shook a little. "Sit down Winter. I'll pour us some drinks. There’s a lot for us all to catch each other up on."

  Wil nodded and took a slice of ham and shoved the entire thing into his mouth while Winter grinned knowingly at him. "So," he began after he had swallowed most of it. "What has Liv been asking you to do?" he swallowed the last of the ham and grabbed another piece. “The Silver Daughter,” he amended after seeing their quizzical faces.

  "She refuses to share it with us before we agree to help her," Winter answered, taking a mug from Gwen before she sat down. "But she's the only god who's approached us since you left. Crell must have made sure the Pantheon wouldn’t bother us anymore after taking you."

  Wil took a long sip from his mug after his second piece of ham, nodding in acknowledgment. It made sense. They were with him when he had killed Death, making them powerful tools in the eyes of the gods. "Have either of you ever heard of the Creator or the Devourer? It's the same entity, just different names for him."

  Winter and Gwen both shook their heads.

  "It was something my dad mentioned once; a myth for the gods to ponder. I didn't consider its existence a possibility because he had mentioned it after his fight with the Mad King. He wasn't exactly lucid after that.” Wil stopped to stare at his mug. He couldn't remember the last time he'd thought of either of his parents. “Anyway,” he continued, “I should have taken him more seriously because he was right about its existence; I saw it today and it isn’t pretty.