“Here I am,” replied a voice from the ceiling.
“What’s this?”
When Danae looked up, Meg could sense the tension that filled his body. And she probably wasn’t the only one.
Meg and Danae were in a passageway that intersected a thirty-foot-wide corridor—and the girl saw a pair of figures up above looking down at them. One was a white-haired old man clearly dressed as a servant; the other wore a gray cape and had bandages wrapped around his hands and face. For an instant Meg thought the latter to be a patient, but his bloodshot eyes—the sole part of him exposed—gave off a supernatural aura so intense it almost blinded her. And apparently the eyes alone were enough for Danae to deduce his identity.
“Duke Dandorian?! Whatever has happened to you . . .” the astonished Danae groaned, and Meg was immediately dumbfounded.
This was the husband that vile duchess had jilted in her love for D? But he had such a force to him. She found it inconceivable that he was some dimwitted husband who’d been cuckolded.
“When did you return to the castle?” Danae inquired in a shrill tone. Given how terribly surprised he seemed, this was apparently someone who wasn’t to be taken lightly.
“He has come and gone a number of times, in secrecy,” Zangleson replied. He was the very picture of a loyal retainer, but that loyalty extended to only one person.
“You led him here?” Danae said, his voice and his eyes suddenly growing cruel.
“Correct, sir. Though his grace the duke had no intention of returning to the castle, I insisted on bringing him here after seeing him wandering the forest alone. He seemed so unfortunate . . .”
Nothing from Danae.
“You know none of it, do you, Lord Danae?” the bandaged figure said, his voice coming down in a gloomy tone that seemed like it would melt away in the rain. “Why was it we returned to life? Because my wife wished to see that man once more! However, when I was raised from the dead, I made a demand. I said there was no price I’d be unwilling to pay to gain power equal to that of the loathsome young man, so that I might have my vengeance on him.”
Danae said nothing, and beside him Meg was stunned.
Duke Dandorian touched his right hand to his face and continued, “And so I was given this body. Supernatural bacteria eat away at me beneath these bandages. By turns fever and chills pain my every second, so that even sleep is impossible. Ah, yes, the pain is like that of a burned body being splashed with acid multiplied ten thousandfold. Yet I rejoice, Lord Danae. It pleases me that the man who stole my wife will die by my hand.”
“What he stole was her grace’s heart,” Danae said with resolve. “Even now, that is unchanged. Duke Dandorian, though this resurrection has been a boon for most of us, for you and her grace—”
“Say no more. I must think no longer of Mizuki. I have only my hatred for the man who took what was mine!”
“Wait just a minute!” Meg interjected, driven by something that’d welled up inside her. “Is that what this is? All this started because your wife has a cheating habit even death couldn’t fix? You came back to this life for revenge over having your wife stolen? That’s the stupidest thing ever. Think for a second about all the trouble you’ve caused everybody else. Some of the folks from my village got changed in strange ways, or killed. In order to save me, the sheriff I came over with let me . . . well, he died. And then there’s the matter of me ending up like this . . . And it’s all because of your wife’s lousy playing around and your stupid jealousy . . . I could just die!”
The girl’s voice quaked, and there was a salty taste in her mouth. Tears.
“Oh, we can’t have you dying on us.”
Dandorian’s words hammered Meg.
III
Bloodshot eyes were gazing intently at her from between the bandages.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” the girl asked.
“You’re to be our bait for D. Let me be plain, it isn’t that I fear him. No, I wish to torment him.”
“That’s just too damn bad,” Meg spat venomously. “You think he’ll show any interest in a little country girl like me? It’s not sunburned skin that suits him, iwt’s a classy woman with skin like pearls. She wouldn’t wear a shell necklace like me, but gold accessories with jewels like you Nobles use, and she’d be real good at wearing ’em. And then, some night when the moon and stars are bright, they’d go out into a garden where beautiful flowers are in bloom, and she’d sing the songs of the night in a voice prettier than any flower.”
Having said all that, Meg took a deep breath. Without her realizing it, Dandorian had come right down in front of her, and now his left hand was wrapped around her right wrist. A pain not unlike a kind of chill spread through Meg’s body, and she couldn’t lift a finger.
“I am of the opinion that young man isn’t as coldblooded as he appears. I look forward to seeing his reaction when a female acquaintance is ripped to pieces before his very eyes.”
Every inch of the girl went cold at once. Quit it! she shouted, but the words never formed, and when Meg tried to wrench free of the duke’s grip she moved him no more than a breeze-borne feather might have.
When Duke Dandorian moved, Meg began to go with him as if she were floating along.
“Kindly wait a moment,” Danae said, standing before them.
“What do you want? There must be a pile of operations which need your attention!”
“I am abundantly aware of that. However, first, I owe a debt to that girl.”
“A debt?” asked the duke.
“Can you not wait until that debt has been repaid?”
“I know not what this debt may be, but the answer is no. The girl is mine.”
“Please reconsider.”
“Step aside.”
The duke’s right arm arced out toward Danae’s shoulder. It sliced through empty air. Danae had swayed back beautifully.
“Danae!”
The duke’s reaction was a second too slow. Twin beams of red pierced Dandorian’s shoulders and eyes at almost the same time. The beams’ hundred million degrees of temperature could stave off even the regenerative powers of a Noble’s indestructible cells for quite some time.
As the duke dropped dejectedly to his knees, Danae pulled Meg close and said, “I shall take my punishment later. I’m off to bring the girl to the confinement center for the test subjects.”
And with that he turned his back on the duke.
After walking about thirty feet, Danae halted. He turned around.
Flattened snakes were trailing along at his feet. They carpeted the corridor, and the instant he realized they were the same bandages that Duke Dandorian wore, Danae shoved Meg forward and prepared to make a leap.
The time he’d given Meg meant he was too late. The bandages wrapped around Danae’s ankles in midair and dragged him back down the corridor, where the other flattened snakes wrapped around him en masse and tightened. Flesh popped and bones creaked. A scream of pain and bloody foam erupted from Danae’s mouth.
“I shall tear you to bits, Lord Danae,” Duke Dandorian told him as he staggered to his feet, his words like a hex. “Take off your arms, your legs—even your head. And then I shall impale your torso on a pike.”
“How very . . . thoughtful . . .” Danae said, his body left looking like some horribly misshapen monstrosity from the bandages sinking into his flesh.
There was a dull snap. His ribs had broken.
Disgorging another gout of blood, Danae’s lips twisted into a grin.
The dazzling red beams swiped vertically, cutting all the bandages. The light then pointed upward. Not at the duke, but at the ceiling. It was unclear what sort of path the beams traced, but the duke was crushed beneath several tons of rock that fell a heartbeat later. As if from a nuclear explosion, a rumble and a dusty wind howled down the corridor.
“Are you okay?!” Meg asked, running over to Danae’s twisted form.
“You mustn’t come near me—these bandages are
poisoned!” the Noble exclaimed, shoving Meg away. “To reach the confinement center, go straight until you get to the vertical conveyor, take that to the surface, and head north. There are ten black buildings there. They are in the third from the eastern side. Go quickly.”
Meg hesitated.
“What about you?”
“As I expected, even Duke Dandorian has his limits,” Danae said. “Crushed so thoroughly, he won’t be too quick to heal. Go on ahead.”
“But you’ll be coming later?” Meg asked, suddenly feeling helpless. At the same time, she was also concerned for the Nobleman. At the very least, he had done his best to honor the promise he’d made to a human girl.
“I know not,” Danae replied, gazing at Meg. “Hurry and go. Make good your escape. I must warn you that once you reach the confinement center, my promise to you ends. When next we meet, you will be just one more of my prey.”
His eyes were blazing red, and a disturbing pair of fangs poked from the corners of his mouth.
Meg backed away. Not out of fear. Rather, it was to sever her emotional ties to Lord Danae.
“I’ll cross that sea when I get to it. So long. You’ve been a big help.”
Something glistened in Meg’s eyes.
Perhaps noticing it, Danae raised one hand and said, “Godspeed to you.”
His eyes were invested with a warm and peaceful glow, and his fangs couldn’t be seen.
Meg started running. Tears slid down her cheeks. And that was another way of bidding farewell.
“So, the brave girl has left?”
After Meg’s footfalls were no longer audible, Danae looked down at the far end of the corridor—and the stony heap of rubble. Would his own cells fill in his pulverized flesh quickly, or would Duke Dandorian recover from being crushed first? It was a race against the clock.
The pain was receding. The regenerative abilities of Lord Danae’s cells were beginning to have some effect.
“This may work,” he thought aloud, and then his Noble hearing caught a sound that should’ve struck terror in him. The sound of a small piece of stone hitting the floor.
Danae focused his eyes past his feet. There was a mountain of stone. Beneath it was the duke.
Hurry up and heal, damn you!
The mountain of stone shook distinctly.
Running all the way, it took the girl ten minutes to reach the confinement center. She couldn’t locate any doors in the building’s metallic surface. Though Meg kicked and punched at it, it had no effect at all. She was just considering going back to look for some sort of tool when she sensed a presence behind her that froze her body. It was a ghastly aura on a completely different level from any of the others she’d met, and it made Meg’s heart stop.
I’m dead. I’m going to die just like this.
Her consciousness drifted away.
Without warning, the presence vanished. Staggering, Meg fell to the ground, then propped herself up with one arm. Desperately craning her neck, she looked back.
“D?!”
It didn’t even occur to the girl that this might be some illusion the duchess had conjured.
“So, you’re okay?”
Though the girl knew D was merely confirming her condition, a shudder of emotion ran through her.
“Of course,” she spat back, just so he wouldn’t see through her.
“It would seem you haven’t concluded your business here yet,” D said, shooting a quick glance at the building before turning his back to Meg.
His treatment of her was so callous, Meg didn’t even think before shouting, “Hey—aren’t you being a little too cold? Gimme some help here!”
Not halting, D asked, “With what?”
Knowing that he wasn’t the kind to ask about other’s affairs, Meg felt her chest swell with hope.
“I wanna get into this building, but I can’t find an entrance. Can’t you do something?”
D didn’t stop.
“The folks from the village are in here! I’ve finally found them. All I have to do is get ’em out and put ’em in a boat. Please, get this place open.”
D turned around. Not even glancing at Meg, he walked toward the building.
Yes! Meg thought, pumping a fist in her heart of hearts.
Halting by the front of the building, D pulled something weird out of his coat.
“Is that—your left hand?”
Meg said nothing more, watching as D used his right hand to press the palm of the severed left hand against the wall before him. In the section around it, an area ten feet high and six feet wide changed color.
Though it was a metal wall, the Hunter tossed his chin at the part that’d turned pale blue and seemed to be breathing, saying, “The rest you should know—the way you are now.”
He looked at Meg.
Meg really wondered if her heart was going to stop. He knows. He knows I’ve been turned into a servant of the Nobility! And she had to wonder why, then, the Vampire Hunter had bothered to aid her.
“D—I . . . I’m . . .”
“See to it we don’t have to meet again.”
Meg’s pained confession was met with a tone that seemed to reduce it to fog, and then D started once again down the same road. Just before his broad back melded with the darkness, the girl managed to squeeze out a cry of “Thank you!” And then, in her heart of hearts, she murmured, I love you!
“Poor thing,” said the hoarse voice. “The girl wound up with the blood of the Nobility. You tried to tell her. Seems she’s in love with you. And yet—”
D struck the chest of his coat with his fist. There was a squeal, and then it grew quiet.
The Hunter’s walk, quiet but shrouded in an aura so ghastly people would want to cover their eyes, ended quickly. When he came to just about the center of a vast, square-like area, a figure surrounded by four cylinders flew down from the sky, halting about fifteen feet off the ground.
“Do you remember me? I’m Gildea,” the baron informed D, flames of enmity clinging to every inch of the Nobleman.
Dust to Dust
chapter 10
I
I won’t say that I was caught off-guard,” said Baron Gildea. “I was bested by your true power. Even now my throat burns like fire. How fortunate for me that I have an opportunity to avenge myself here. D, can you prevent my attacks when I am beyond the range of your blade or those needles you throw?”
There was no answer.
“Long ago, when you destroyed this island, I didn’t do battle with you or even know your name, as the flames engulfed me while I slumbered. Who would’ve thought the very day I was transferred to the island would be the day of its destruction? But now I’m overjoyed to have had the chance to battle you not once but twice. I know not whether you are bold or just dull witted, venturing defenseless into a Noble base as you have.”
“It was the same last time,” the Hunter replied.
His voice, like holy winter’s night, made Gildea’s expression stiffen.
“I see. And this time, too, you will see us all destroyed? Such confidence! However, I will remind you that last time, you didn’t fight me.”
“You said it yourself just now. I bested you.”
The baron’s body rose vertically.
One of the cylinders made a faint mechanical buzz. Abnormal conditions were broadcast into the space around D. The instant the Hunter kicked off the dirt, the ground in a six-foot-diameter area around where he’d been standing suddenly subsided. Or rather, it’d been compressed by an incredible increase in gravity. Not only could the four cylinders negate gravity, but they were also designed to be used as weapons, creating a force field that could compact things down to the atomic level. The ground that’d subsided had been reduced to ash to a depth of six miles.
The Hunter wouldn’t be able to dodge a second attack.
On landing, D drew his sword and hurled it at the airborne baron all in a single motion. Their duel was taking place across a thousand yards.
When Baron Gildea saw D’s right arm sweep around, a mocking sneer rose on his lips. He’d already risen another five hundred yards. It was a futile attempt.
Gildea’s mocking sneer became a look of pity. At the same time the gravity controller in front of him had shaken faintly, something cold and hard had sunk into his heart. The gravity controllers would probably have him at the edge of the atmosphere in no time, though its undead pilot had already been reduced to dust.
“Looks like I made it in time,” a hoarse voice said feebly from the chest of the Hunter’s black coat. “A millisecond more and you would’ve been crushed down to the size of an atom. But now that you’ve lost your weapon, you’re in a bit of a dilemma as to what to do next—huh?”
Even before the hoarse voice noticed, D had turned his face slightly toward the rear—the direction he’d encountered Meg.
“The girl’s fighting the good fight, eh? Well, nothing to worry about in her present position. On the other hand, what’ll you do if it comes down to that? Oh, I suppose you’d probably finish her off without raising an eyebrow.”
Before the voice had even finished speaking, D turned his face forward again and started off, the wind whipping in his wake.
The mechanism for opening and closing the door was immediately to the right of the section of wall that’d changed color. That Meg understood.
Slipping through it without meeting any resistance, she stepped into a vast room. Though there was no illumination, Meg’s eyes could make out a half-dozen figures lying on the ridiculously broad expanse of floor.
“Togill’s little boy . . . Shalkan’s wife, and Old Man Ong . . .”
Familiar faces were arrayed there. Anger ensnared Meg. Old folks and kids had been thrown in there without a single bed, left to sleep on the floor. That was no way for anyone to treat a human being.
Togill’s boy was the closest to her, but before Meg bent down over him she first checked her own teeth. They poked into her fingertip painfully. It seemed it would be best to talk as little as possible. A desolate wind blew through the girl’s heart.
Undead Island Page 16
