by H. D. Gordon
It was almost a relief.
CHAPTER 44
Samson came to a stop when he reached the water. He lowered his head and lapped at it with his dry tongue, watching all around him, scanning the ground, the trees. She was near, he could feel her, could smell her, and this was where the trail ended. After taking some water he lifted his head and scanned the surroundings again, spotting a waterfall some twenty yards upstream. Behind a wall of water, Drake had said. Samson’s gut told him that she was there. He made his way back to the trees and began his cautious approach.
Now that he was here, he knew he would need to move silently, carefully. It was no wonder that the Beasts had steered clear of this area. The dark energy in the air grew thicker as he approached the waterfall. He could almost taste the Sorcerer in the air, the one who had hurt and captured his beloved Surah, and his killer instinct was set ablaze by the scent. But Black Heart had the Black Stone, so Samson would need to wait for the perfect moment to strike, and if the foul energy exuding from the hidden cavern that was behind the waterfall was any indication, that moment was near.
He held his body low to the ground, creeping closer and closer. Now he could hear voices from inside the cave, made indistinguishable by the sound of the rushing water. His ears swiveled and perked, trying to make out what was being said. He needed to get closer.
He reached the waterfall and hopped over onto the rocks that were on its edge, his paws landing silently and lithely. He listened again before moving forward, but the voices had stopped. They were no longer talking. Samson moved forward, the waterfall concealing him, and peeked his head into the dimly lit space. What he saw made a red hot fury burn through his chest.
Surah hung on the wall like some macabre portrait, her limbs limp and eyes closed, pretty face a disturbing blue color. Charlie hung on the opposite wall, his face twisted with silent agony as his eyes stared widely at Surah. Black Heart stood in front of the princess, his back to Samson, his attention focused on killing her and making his brother watch. Samson decided right then that he did not want to kill this man, he had to. If it was the last thing he ever did, he had to.
He leaped forward into the air, his ascent soundless, his huge claws extended and large teeth bared. Black Heart’s head turned just in time to see the tiger’s terrifying face flying at him before Samson landed on his back and sent him crashing to the ground. Black Heart tried to move his throat away, but Samson snagged the necklace holding the Black Stone around his neck between his teeth and snapped the chain, ripping it free. His head whipped to the side and the necklace flew over to the wall, the Black Stone making a sound like rock crashing into rock when it hit the wall. Then it clunked to the ground.
Charlie and Surah fell to the ground in the same moment.
Black Heart still had Surah’s piece of White Stone, and he used it to teleport out from underneath the tiger. He removed the sword from beneath his cloak, aiming it at Samson, who was standing over the Black Stone, his head low, amber eyes glowing, teeth bared.
Black Heart moved cautiously forward, his hair standing out around his head, his jade eyes angrier than ever. He held his sword up and spoke between clenched teeth. “I will kill you for that, you stupid beast.”
Samson growled, the sound rebounding off the close walls of the cave, like caged thunder. Black Heart teleported to the spot above Samson’s back, planning to send his blade through the neck of the tiger, but Samson anticipated this move, and he leapt to the side, swiping at the Black Stone and sending it skidding over near Charlie, who was just finding his feet.
And Surah was finding hers.
She felt like lying down, like closing her eyes and letting sleep take her. Her throat burned and throbbed, her wrists were on fire, and the whole left side of her body was a network of pain. But there could be no resting, not now, and the warrior in her refused to let her do so.
She rushed forward with her sais. Black Heart turned just in time to block her strike with his sword, the weapons clinking together with the sound of metal on metal. Samson sprang forward, and Black Heart spun around, slicing the air with his blade and sending the tiger skidding back out of the way.
Surah struck again. Black Heart evaded. He was faster than she would have thought, which was not at all a good thing. Samson kept trying to get at him, but Black Heart teleported out of the way again and again, doing a disappearing and reappearing dance all around them.
Meanwhile, Charlie Redmine was bending down to pick up the Black Stone. He took a deep breath as his fingers wound around it. He held it tight and said one word.
“Stop.”
All three of them, Samson, Surah and Black Heart halted in their movements, their bodies freezing in place. Charlie suppressed a gag as the dark power ran through him, making his head go light and his vision swirl. He was overwhelmed with a feeling of blackness, a feeling that sucked the light out of the world along with all the laughter. It was no wonder his brother had gone insane. The power was potent, noxious.
“Let me go, Charlie Boy,” Black Heart said, watching his brother the way a lion will watch a pack of hyenas.
“Kill him, Charlie,” Surah said.
Samson just stared.
Charlie kept his fingers firmly locked around the Black Stone, his mind racing with options. He went over to where his brother was frozen in place and put a hand on his shoulder, looking into his eyes. “I’m sorry, Mikey,” he said.
Then he moved over to Surah and Samson, taking her by the hand and placing his other on Samson’s large back. Black Heart’s voice was an angry growl. “She’s right, Charlie Boy. If you do this, you’re better off just killing me now.”
Charlie stared at Michael, knowing that his words were no bluff. If he did this, the line would be drawn, the decision irreversible. If he didn’t, that same line would still be crossed, only he would be on the other side. He was stuck firmly between a rock and a hard place.
Surah’s eyes flicked to Charlie, her hand warm in his, her fate heavy on his shoulders. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, perhaps it was a combination of things, but she trusted Charlie Redmine, and though she wouldn’t admit it, not even to herself, she more than trusted him. She owed him. Though his face was that smooth, unreadable mask that seemed to be his default expression, she could tell by the look in his jade-colored eyes that this decision was not easy for him, that his heart was split clean down the middle, and he was faced with choosing which side to try and salvage.
She honestly did not know what his answer would be, though looking back she supposed it should have been clear. They all stood in silence, the only sound that of the rushing water and the thumping of their hearts, and Charlie made up his mind. For better or worse, and everything that would follow, he made up his mind.
He looked at his brother with too many emotions roiling inside of him to make sense of any of them. He supposed there would be time for that later. He had no idea how right he was.
“I can’t,” Charlie said. “I can’t kill you, Mikey. But I can’t let you kill her, either.”
And then he closed his eyes and teleported himself and the princess and her tiger out of there, the Black Magic from the Stone engulfing them and tossing them across space and time. The last thing he heard before leaving the jungle was Black Heart’s howl of anger.
It sounded oddly like a nail being pounded into a coffin.
CHAPTER 45
They landed in Surah’s bedroom in her father’s castle, stumbling over their feet and falling to the ground in a heap. Charlie was not so great at teleporting yet, and controlling the Magic using the Black Stone was quite a task. They laid sprawled out on the ground for several moments, trying to catch their breaths and slow their racing hearts. All of them were either injured or exhausted or both. Samson had travelled much further today than his body was built for, and his stomach heaved as he lay on his side panting, his long tongue lolling out of his mouth.
Surah was hurting all over. It would be easier to count
the places on her body that were not in pain rather than the other way around. Her wrists were bleeding, her face was swollen, her head pounded and the left side of her body was screaming sorely. Charlie was very close to heaving up the meager contents of his stomach, so nauseated he was from the trip. He couldn’t seemed to catch his breath.
So they all just laid there. Surah climbed to her feet first, moving over to Charlie. Her lavender hair was a wavy mess around her face, which was pinched with worry. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Charlie waved a hand, not even trying to make a move to stand. “Be fine,” he said. “I should ask you the same.”
Surah shrugged. “I’ll live.”
Charlie gave that small smile of his, still staring up at the ornate ceiling. “That’s good.”
Well, I’m fine, too, love. Thanks for asking, Samson said in her head.
She moved over to him and crouched down, running her hands through his thick fur. Samson closed his amber eyes and chuffed a little at her touch. “Thank you, Sam,” she told him silently. “You saved my life.”
Samson gave her a toothy smile, his eyes still closed. What else is new?
All of a sudden she remembered her father, who was dying from demon poison as they sat here taking stock of each other’s injuries. She prayed to the Gods that it was not too late, that the poison could still be reversed. She glanced at the grandfather clock that stood in the corner of the large room, a family heirloom that had been passed down to her from her mother. The hour read six-thirty, and Surah looked over at the arched windows to see the sunlight had nearly bled completely out of the sky.
Charlie had an arm draped over his face, but he lifted it and looked at her. As if he had read her thoughts, he held the Black Stone out for her. “Here,” he said. “Take it. Go save your father.”
She didn’t hesitate, just stepped forward and wrapped her fingers around the cold Stone, her hand brushing against Charlie’s warm skin. “Thank you,” she said. “I am in your debt, Mr. Redmine.”
Charlie draped his arm back over his face and waved his hand again. “Don’t worry about it, Princess,” he said. “Just go save the king.”
Surah nodded. “What are you going to do?”
Charlie peeked out at her beneath his arm. “Lie here for a second, if that’s alright.”
I second that, Samson said.
“Okay,” she said, “but be quiet. If anyone finds you here…it won’t be good.”
Both Samson and Charlie gave small grunts.
Surah turned toward the door, moving quickly, but when she got there, she turned back. “And Charlie?”
Charlie lifted his head, his eyebrows raised over deep jade eyes. Surah smiled at him. Not her princess smile, but her real one, and it felt right being there. Charlie returned it, thinking of how beautiful she was when she truly smiled. “Yes, Princess?”
Surah opened the door, peering out into the long hallway to find it empty. Thank the Gods. She looked back at him once more. “Call me Surah,” she said.
Then she shut the door to the room and raced down the hall in the direction of her father’s chambers, hoping beyond hope that she wasn’t too late. She was in such a hurry that she did not see Theodine Gray as she rushed by the doorway he was standing in. His eyes narrowed as she ran past.
Theo stepped out into the hallway after she was gone, his eyes locked on the wood of her chamber doors, wondering what surprises waited behind it. He was sure it would be something. He’d heard her talking to someone, telling someone to call her by her first name, an invitation she had never offered him in all the years he’d known her.
He strode over to the doors and pulled his sword free of his cloak, clutching it in his right hand. Then he flicked his wrist and the double doors to her bedroom swung open.
Theo heard the voice before he saw the man, but he knew just by the slow drawl of the words who it was. His fingers tightened around his sword and a nasty smile appeared on his face.
“You forget something'?” Charlie asked. He removed his arm from his face and lifted his head to see the tip of the Head Hunter’s sword only inches from his nose. Cold gray eyes stared down at him.
Samson was on his feet in less than a heartbeat. A low growl rumbled in his throat. Theo’s head twisted to look at the tiger, surprise evident on his face. “Stand down, Beast,” Theo told him. “This matter is none of your concern.”
Samson made no move to do as he was told. He stood staring at the Head Hunter, his head lowered between his large shoulders and his muscles bunched and ready. Charlie was touched when he realized the tiger was defending him, but Samson had done enough, and killing Theo would do no good for any of them.
At least, that’s what he thought. In hindsight, he supposed it may have worked out better if Samson had just ripped out the Head Hunter’s throat right then and there. Maybe some of the things that followed could have been avoided. Maybe.
But Charlie Redmine, despite what the kingdom thought of him, was not his brother. He did not murder people. He was just a simple country man, and thus far in his life he’d made tremendous effort to do things the right way, to follow a moral code that the best of Gods could approve of.
Charlie pulled himself to a sitting position, holding his hands up and moving slowly, watching the blade of the Head Hunter’s sword that was still trained on him. He gave a small nod to Samson, and to both men’s surprise the tiger relaxed his stance and moved over to the arched window, plopping down to the floor. He set his huge head on his paws and watched them, his amber eyes closing and his breathing going back to normal. He was seriously beyond exhausted, and if the fool didn’t want any help, the fool wasn’t going to get any. His Surah was safe, and that was really all that mattered.
Theo’s smile was wide and white, his gray eyes full of triumph. “I would kill you now,” Theo said, “but I’m afraid there is a whole kingdom who would like to watch you die, and I am not selfish enough to deny them the pleasure.”
Charlie, his hands still held up in surrender, pulled himself to his feet. He said nothing at all to this.
Theo gestured to the door with the tip of his sword, his grin wide and eyes shining. “Get walking, dead man. You’ve got yourself a date with the devil, and I’m going to make sure you keep it.”
Charlie allowed himself to be led out, cursing himself for resting on Surah’s floor when he would have been better off climbing out the window and trying to scale down the tower which held her bedroom. At least then he would have a chance at escape, and if he fell and died, at least his death would be quick.
It was clear just by the Head Hunter’s face that he could expect no such mercy from him. If Charlie was a betting man, he would have bet all his marbles that Theo was going to enjoy this. He rubbed his hand down his jaw and thought, Well, damn.
CHAPTER 46
“Why isn’t it working?”
Bassil lifted his hand and placed his palm on her father’s forehead. “It is working, Princess,” he said. “His fever is already breaking. You just have to be patient. The demon poison has been in his system for too long. It could take several weeks for him to fully recover.”
Surah’s mouth fell open, and she snapped it shut and clenched her teeth, fighting back tears. It was hard to look at her father this way. She had never seen him look so bad before. His skin was a startling ashy white, like old chalk, and his usually perfectly combed hair sat in thin tangles atop his head. She could see his chest rising and falling with thin, inadequate breaths, his eyes closed as if they would remain that way forever. He looked like a dying man.
All the emotions she had been bottling came rushing over her in a harsh wave, and her knees buckled. Bassil grabbed her elbows gently, supporting some of her weight, his dark face drawn with concern.
“Perhaps you should be resting, Princess,” he said. “You don’t look well.”
Surah shook her head and locked her knees, smoothing her cloak out with shaking hands. “I’ll be fine,” she said.
Bassil gave her a dubious look but offered no protest.
Surah moved a chair over by her father’s bed and took a seat, staring at the Black Stone sitting atop her father’s chest. She could see the Black Magic at work inside the Stone, which seemed to slither and writhe, sucking out the poison that was running rampant in her father’s body.
“I just want to stay with him for a while,” she said. “I will rest as soon as I am able.”
Bassil quirked an eyebrow. “You mean when you can no longer stand on your own two feet?”
Surah gave no answer, just sat watching her father, wishing he would open his eyes and smile at her. She knew Bassil was right. She was in more pain than she cared to admit at the moment, and the thought of crawling under her covers and falling into a deep sleep sounded like pure heaven. But she would do no such thing. She would just sleep in this chair if she had to. She wanted to be there when her father woke up. She had to, because despite what Bassil said, some panicked part of her feared that Syrian might not wake up at all. After all the events of the past two days, the thought of leaving him was just beyond her.
Bassil released a slow sigh. Then he bent at the waist and placed a small kiss on her forehead. “All right, Princess,” he said. “Do as you please. I will be back in soon to check on you. I’ll bring you some soup. I bet you don’t even remember the last time you ate.” His nose wrinkled. “And you may want to consider taking a shower. You don’t smell good.”
Surah gave a short laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Anything else, Shaman? I suppose you also want to tell me that I’m having a bad hair day?”
Bassil smiled. “As a matter of fact…”
Surah rolled her eyes. “Oh, just be gone with you,” she said.
Bassil chuckled as he stepped out into the hall and shut the door behind him. He turned around to find himself face to face with Theodine Gray. The Head Hunter gave him an annoyed look. “Get out of my way, Shaman,” he said.
