A Rising Storm (Tainted Blood Book 4)

by Jeff Gunzel

  Xavier fell back in his chair. Lerwick. There was that word again. Narkural, leader of the nezzerians, had also voiced such an accusation. He had even gone so far as to claim that she shouldn’t even exist. Now this pattern was becoming hard to ignore. How much longer could he keep turning a blind eye before—

  “But you knew that as well,” she said, appraising his expression. The old woman was a hard one to read, but she was clearly surprised by that bit of information.

  “So there really is such a thing,” he whispered. Wincing when she saw the pain in his eyes, she nodded.

  Xavier seemed to deflate as he sank down deeper into his chair. “I told you everything I knew about my situation,” he said softly. “Now I need you to return the favor. Your eyes have watched this world change for five thousand years. I need to know what I’m up against if I’m to do my duty. The ghatins. Lerwicks.” He seemed to spit that word as if it were sour on his tongue. “You must share your wisdom with me.”

  “You are tired, Xavier. I don’t think this is the time to—”

  “Now, before we go any further!” Both fists slammed on the table, his eyes smoldering hot coals. He had been kept in the dark long enough.

  Taking a deep breath, Xylia slowly rose from her chair. “I’ll make some more tea,” was all she said, taking the tray before she made her way back to the kitchen. Xavier sat at the table, staring down at the rotting bones in the bowl. Flies crawled all over them, their tongues stabbing away at the rancid feast. Waving a hand at them, they scattered, circling above for a moment before a few began settling back down on the bones.

  She was gone for some time, giving Xavier time to think. So Viola really was a lerwick. He had gone to painstaking lengths to assure her that Narkural was just crazy, and that he had no idea what he was talking about. Even when Xavier saw proof that she had no life’s thread, he was somehow able to convince himself it was just a mistake. That it didn’t really mean anything. How could such a kind, beautiful girl be some kind of mistake? He felt so foolish now. Not wanting something to be true had little do with whether or not it actually was. He of all people knew that better than anyone. So what if it was true? Was that actually such a bad thing? He figured he was about to find out.

  Xylia returned with another tray, this time with the whole pot as well as two cups. She set it down on the only clear spot on the table and hobbled back over to her seat.

  “Xylia?” Xavier said. “I’m sorry I got angry. Nothing that has happened to me is your fault, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on—”

  “I’ve seen many centuries, far too many for me to still consider myself a part of life’s natural circle,” she said, waving off his apology. “Babies are born and the old die. Such has always been the pattern. But here I sit outside that pattern, Xavier. A spectator, a witness as the circle goes round and round without me. I’m tired, Xavier. So very, very tired. I have watched the world constantly change, seen things I wish I hadn’t. But if the knowledge I’ve gained can help one such as you, one who is still part of the pattern, then perhaps I can still leave my mark on this world in some small way.

  “I was around when the ghatins roamed this world. Not trapped as they are now, but free to torment, terrorize, and slaughter whatever and whoever they wished.”

  Xavier sat up straight, suddenly hanging on her every word.

  “Terrible creatures they were. Some beasts kill for food, others because of their hate and distrust towards every other creature in the world. I had always thought the latter to be the worst. I was wrong. I am aware of your profession, but I don’t believe anything in your training could prepare you for the horrors of a race that kills only for pleasure. These ghatins would skin a man and take days doing it, just because his screams were music to their ears. Human suffering brings them joy. It is beyond me why the creator would ever allow such vile beings to exist in the first place.

  “Their reign of terror swept across our world for nearly three centuries. Like a shadow that chokes off the light, all of Ayrith had been swallowed up by this black plague. No one was safe. There was nowhere to hide. Surviving during this time of blackness only meant they had not gotten around to you yet. They would eventually. Practically immortal, they had no natural enemies and nothing but time.”

  “How could...” Xavier gasped, barely able to assemble a sentence. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. “But no such events have ever been documented,” he managed to spit out. “Sure, bits and pieces here and there that historians have managed to piece together over time. But nothing like what you describe!”

  “History is written by the winning side, young Xavier,” reminded the old woman. “By far the dominant species, they engaged in torture as casually as you or I might get dressed in the morning. Imagine being the poor human caught documenting real-time events as they took place. Such a person would be punished in ways you or I can hardly comprehend. Few would ever risk it, and even fewer would succeed anyway.”

  Xylia’s eyes seemed to go distant as her mind drifted to the past. “But a race can only be pushed so far before they begin pushing back,” she whispered, her gaze looking right through Xavier. Her expression was trancelike, eyes slightly crossed, focused on ghostly memories from a time long forgotten. “The humans organized themselves, held secret meetings wherever they could. Underground, hidden deep within forests, anywhere they could hide from the ghatins while they prepared. A terrible war followed. The humans struck back with everything they had.”

  “But you said yourself that the ghatins were practically immortal,” Xavier said, sitting on the edge of his seat.

  “Never underestimate an enemy that has nothing to lose,” Xylia replied. “Human casualties were immense, easily ranging into the hundreds of thousands. Warriors came from lands near and far, united in a singular goal. And that goal was only to die.”

  “To die?” Xavier mouthed, his words barely audible.

  “A distraction. Human lives sacrificed by the thousands for no other purpose than to draw attention away from the real battle taking place behind closed doors. A silent battle that was just as important. It was a race against time. Hidden underground like rats, mystics and mages worked day and night. Brilliant minds from all over the world had come together to do something that had never been done before. Their job was to succeed where the gods themselves had failed. They worked feverishly to understand what the ghatins truly were at their most basic, biological level. And once they did that, they were able to create the ghatins’ exact opposite.

  “Artificial, unnatural beings that were never meant to exist in the first place...”

  “Lerwicks,” Xavier whispered to himself.

  “Yes,” Xylia confirmed. “A secret weapon built from the ground up. You see, the mystics determined that the ghatins’ physical forms were somehow immune to most of the materials found in our world. Our wood, steel, and even our own flesh seemed to pass right through their bodies. No weapon could hurt them. It was as if they were ghosts. But that is exactly what makes the lerwicks different from us. They are not a pure, individual race like ourselves or any other, but a mesh of many races. In short, their blood is tainted.

  “These ‘creations,’ if you will, had many unique abilities, but one in particular: their very flesh is toxic to the ghatins. They alone can kill them.” Xylia shook her head. “Humans were actually able to create life, a natural enemy to the ghatins. Yet even our most ingenious creation was still built exclusively for violence. That does seem to be our lone talent, does it not?”

  “You say there were a natural enemy to the ghatins,” Xavier said. “So they were willing to help the humans?”

  “I guess that’s one way to look at it,” Xylia said, barking out a dry laugh that sounded more like a cough. “No different than a shovel willingly helps a farmer, I suppose. Xavier, they were man’s creation. Tools, for lack of a better word. Lerwicks had no rights. They couldn’t own anything or make their own choices. They were created for a single
purpose, then forced to serve that purpose.”

  “That’s horrible!”

  “That’s survival,” she hissed. “And that is the only reason we are still here today. Believe me when I say, horrible or not, there was enough sacrifice to go around. Lerwicks, humans, all life suffered. But eventually, after many years and thousands of spent lives, the ghatins were driven back. Once they retreated into that volcano, the mystics sealed them in with their ancient magics. A curse of sorts, but one that is not without its flaws. It seems the ghatins have found a way around the seal. We’ve both seen the damage they can do even though they are so limited in their movement. If they find your friend, they will have the means to break the seal permanently.”

  “Which is why I need to get to her first!” Xavier said. “These spiritists don’t know what they’re dealing with. I have to protect her.”

  “And I plan to help you with that. Although the existence of my village resides outside of the pattern, it is still in our best interests to make sure the ghatins stay locked away. I believe you to be quite capable in that regard. Darkwell has been around for thousands of years, but its secrets remain intact. I, and many others here, are well versed in the ancient magics long forgotten by the rest of the realm. I alone can give you a gift that no other can. A gift that will increase your capabilities and strike fear into the hearts of your enemies...our enemies. If you trust me, I will open up a world to you that no living person has touched in over a thousand years.”

  She raised a silencing hand as Xavier tried to respond. “Before you answer,” she said. “I must warn you. If I do this, there is no going back. You will be changed forever. But... You will also know power like no other from your world. The choice is yours.”

  “There is no choice,” Xavier answered without giving any real thought to her cryptic proposal. “I will defend her or die trying. If you say you can offer me an advantage, then the price paid is of no concern to me. What do you need me to do?”

  “Very well, then,” she hissed. Grinning, her leathery wrinkles folded like dark caverns across her face. “Tell me, young Xavier, are you still so certain that you do not believe in fate?”

  Chapter 4

  Rishima watched as the girls dove into their plates of food. Strips of smoked chicken with sides of green beans and rice were disappearing as fast as they could be brought. She nudged Bella sitting next to her, drawing her attention to the girls as they gorged. Soon after their trying ordeal, Viola and Salina needed sleep more than they needed food. But after a good night’s rest, their stomachs were quick to remind them that all they had eaten for weeks was cold porridge. Although the food was nothing particularly spectacular, to these two, it was more than fit for a king.

  Although Rishima was smiling, Bella’s forehead creased at the sight. She sighed, unable to mask her sadness. To her, their extreme hunger was not funny in the least. Not so long ago, she herself had experienced similar hardship. She knew what is was like to go from a life of comfort to being so hungry she couldn’t even think straight. It was an experience she would never forget, and one she would never wish on anyone. Bella rose from her seat and rounded the table to remove their empty plates.

  “Bella,” Rishima whispered in a harsh rasp. Ignoring her, she slid two more full plates in front of Viola and Salina. Yes, they had others whose job it was to do this sort of thing. Yes, serving food was hardly a task for a queen. She didn’t care.

  “Here you are,” Bella said, her voice cracking with a brief swell of emotion. “You two have as much as you like. There is plenty more where that came from. You’ve more than earned it.”

  “Thank you,” they whispered as one, heads down as they drove their forks into the fresh plates. Both clearly uncomfortable with the praise, Viola and Salina were strangely in a similar situation here. Of course this was all new to Viola. She was in a strange place far away from her friends, who she assumed had all but forgotten her by now. She accepted that. What else could she do but deal with this new reality? But Salina was also well outside of her normal comfort level. Although these were her people, and she had lived in the tower all her life, she had never been asked to dine with the Moon Mistress before. She was but a soldier whose only purpose was to serve the tower in any way that she could. In a way, this special treatment had her even more uncomfortable than Viola.

  Rishima gave Bella a level look as she retook the seat next to her. That was not the sort of behavior befitting a queen. Acting on emotion was never a good idea, but as long as it was only done in private, she could let it slide. Besides, she knew what Bella had gone through and understood where she was coming from.

  “I think we’re finished,” Viola said, pushing back a half-finished plate. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been so full. It was wonderful, if a bit uncomfortable at the moment. Teeth clamped down on a piece of chicken, Salina flashed her a look. Perhaps saying they were finished was a bit premature.

  “As you say,” Rishima said, sitting up in her seat. “As agreed, I shall answer any questions you may have. Please, speak freely. The spiritists are here to assist you in any way we can.”

  “Well,” Viola began. “I must admit I was a little hasty in my demands when you first brought me here. I am much more comfortable now.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Rishima said. “Establishing trust between us will take time, but I think we’re off to a good start.”

  “I guess that brings me to my first question. How long do I need to stay here? I left my friends behind. I left everything. They have no idea where I am or whether or not I’m even alive.”

  Rishima and Bella both glanced at one another.

  “The duration of your stay is impossible to determine,” Bella spoke first. “Your safety is our top priority. And as long as the ghatins remain a threat, we cannot allow you to leave. It is out of the question. I know it must feel as if you are our prisoner, but I assure you that is not the case. I will personally do everything in my power to make your stay a pleasant one. That said, I cannot guarantee how long your stay will be.”

  “So you’re saying I cannot leave until the ghatins are defeated?” Viola sunk back in her seat. “In other words, I can never leave.”

  Rishima tried to respond right way, but hesitated. That hesitation told Viola all she needed to know. “A permanent stay...is a very real possibility...I’m afraid,” Rishima said with a sigh, deciding it was best to just be honest with Viola rather than offer any kind of false hope. “If we cannot find a way to defeat them, then sheltering you from danger becomes our only remaining option. I am sorry to be so blunt, but I will not lie to you, either. The fate of the realm is not a thing I plan to take lightly. If it means anything to you, every spiritist here is sworn to sacrifice him or herself in your defense if need be. I hope you find some small measure of comfort in our commitment.”

  “I recognize your sacrifice and I thank the spiritists,” Viola replied. She paused a moment, thinking about how to ask her next question without sounding like an entitled brat. “I miss my friends so much already,” she said, deciding it best to just speak her mind. After all, fear of judgment was the least of her worries these days. “It’s only been a short time, but I feel like it’s been years. They were loyal to a fault, yet I abandoned them again without a second thought. Will I ever see them again? Is there anything you can…” Her voice trailed off.

  Rishima shook her head. So far she had not been able to offer Viola much in the way of encouraging news. In this, she would have to disappoint her once more. “Viola,” she said softly. “I cannot spare any of my men to go searching for your friends. I’m sorry. Perhaps a day will come when the threat to you is not so great. Some day we may even find a way to defeat the ghatins. But until that day comes...”

  “I understand,” Viola said, unable to keep the deep disappointment from her voice. She knew her request was greedy, but felt compelled to ask anyway. Maybe they would come to her?! Maybe they would— The foolish thought embarrassed
her, even if they couldn’t read her mind. Here she was clear up in the mountains with nothing around. How were they going to find her here? They weren’t. She would never see them again. And in all likelihood, they had probably given up on her already. Liam was too busy with his studies. Thatra would find another student to train. Owen would take the next available contract and go on hunting beasts as he had always done.

  Xavier...

  Xavier would certainly find comfort in the arms of another. He would find a wife, have children, a family to call his own. She would love him, care for him, and raise his children in their loving home. In this, Viola played no part. She never had. I’m so stupid. He deserves the love of another human, not some mixed-blood creature. He’s better off now.

  “Viola?” said Rishima, snapping her from her thoughts. “Are you all right?” Viola suddenly realized that everyone was staring at her. Teary-eyed, she stood up feeling humiliated and ashamed.

  “I have no further questions,” Viola said in a rush before turning to hurry away.

  “Viola!” Salina called, having to rush after her to catch up. She put a hand on Viola’s shoulder and spun her back gently. “Viola, I know this is hard for you. I can’t even imagine being in your position. But I just need you to know that I’m here for you just like before. You and I survived the pit together, remember?” Teary-eyed, Viola managed to smile at her friend.

  “If we can get through that, then we can get through anything. Come on, there are still a few areas of the tower you haven’t seen yet,” Salina said.

  Feeling a little better in the company of her friend, the two of them went off to do some more exploring.

  * * *

  The sounds of laughter and song filled the air. Lerwicks danced on tables while others played flutes and violins to the beats of clapping hands and stomping feet. Had a lonely cave up in the mountains ever become so festive? After so many years of isolation, to find out that they were not alone in this world was such an unimaginable joy that the lerwicks found themselves needing to celebrate. To think, they had finally found a place to call home. Away from threat and ridicule, here they could live out their days in peace.