by E. A. Copen
Ash dismissed his doubt with a shrug. “Stranger things have happened. We all know how unstable rifts can be, and we are moving toward a large one, the largest one in the area. We must be on alert at all times, expecting trouble from every direction.” He glanced quickly at me and then away.
I shivered under his gaze.
“We’ll double the guard,” Zia offered. “And you guild people will have to help with patrols.”
“Aye, we’ll patrol our side and you yours. Deal?” Foggy spat on the ground.
Zia shifted into a more aggressive stance. “Did I miss something? I thought we were all here for the same reason. There’s a dragon that needs slaying and riches to be had for all, but only for those of you who can follow orders. Now, give me ten minutes to wake up and I’ll be putting together a modified patrol schedule at the command tent. I expect both Ike and Dex to be in attendance. Ember, you too. Might as well put that sword to use.” She combed her fingers through her wet hair and stormed back to her tent, mumbling about the weather.
Dex pressed in closer, but kept a friendly distance. “Ember, a word if you have a minute? That is, if it’s okay with you, Ash.”
Ash’s smile was friendly, but venom pooled beneath the surface. “She’s still a free woman last time I checked. Just remember what we talked about, Ember. The offer remains open. Your choice.” He nodded to Dex, folded his hands behind his back and walked away.
Some choice, I thought.
“Are you okay, Ember? Really?”
I felt like flies were buzzing in my stomach. I would’ve traded a year’s wages for a stiff drink and a long sleep, but I wasn’t going to get either of those. And if I told Dex the truth, he’d want to confront Ash. That would just get him killed. Somehow, I had to make it through all of this, at least long enough to find time to slip away unnoticed. That meant distancing myself as much as possible from everyone, not just Ash.
I shook rain from my shoulders, though it was a pointless endeavor. The rain was still coming down full force. “I’m fine. Never better.”
Dex wasn’t convinced. He pointed to his chin. “What happened here?”
I touched my chin and pulled my fingers away, watching the rain rinse watery blood from my fingers. “I… fell. Slippery when the rain started, and dark. Couldn’t see a thing.”
“Right,” he said, drawing out the vowel. “Well, if you’re going to go anywhere near vampires, maybe you should get that cleaned up. I have some stuff over at our camp if you want. And a shelter from the rain.”
“That’s fine. I can…” I trailed off, realizing I had dropped my pack in the mud. Any bandages I had in there would be no good. I’d tracked mud through my tent too in my hurry to get out of camp. Half my stuff would be ruined. I sighed and let my shoulders slump. “Okay, yeah.”
I followed Dex back to his camp with my head low except for when I glanced over my shoulder to see if Ash was watching. I didn’t spot him, but I swore I could feel his eyes scraping against the back of my neck like steel wool.
I should’ve fought harder. Should’ve seen it sooner. A knot formed in my chest where my heart should’ve been. How could I have ever let him lay a hand on me? If it had been anyone else, they’d be in a body bag by now. But this was Ash, and Ash had caught me off guard. My memory of him had made me weak when I couldn’t afford weakness. I couldn’t let Dex, Ike, and Foggy pay for my mistake.
Dex led me to a small lean-to shelter open on two sides. A folding table had been set up along with two simple stools. He cleared a game of cards from the table and gestured for me to sit.
“I wanted to thank you for earlier,” he said, bringing out a metal toolbox and placing it on the table. Dex removed his hat and put on the back of his chair.
“Me? For what?”
“For staying.” He opened the toolbox. A tray spread out containing all the ingredients of a basic first aid kit. “At Kenny’s funeral? You didn’t know him and he was kind of an ass to you. I think, if you two had gotten to know each other, maybe you’d have liked him. You have a lot in common. Had. Shit, I’ll never get used to that.”
“I know what you mean. It’s hard to think of people we cared about in the past tense.” I touched my chin to see if it was still bleeding.
“Quit messing with it. Your fingers are caked in mud. Here.” Dex pulled a rag down from where it hung on a string and held it out in the rain for a minute. When it was properly soaked, he sat down across from me and held out a hand.
I stared at it, not sure what he wanted.
“Your hands so I can clean them.”
“Oh. I could do that myself,” I said and gave him my right hand anyway.
“You could,” he said, gently drawing the rag over my fingertips. “But you know, just because you can do everything yourself, you don’t have to. Humans aren’t solitary mammals. We’re meant to be together.”
“We are?” I raised an eyebrow.
He cleared his throat. “I mean people. In general. We’re stronger together. That’s why, even in the face of the end of the world, we fight it in groups. Might be a losing battle, killing all these monsters, but we try.”
“Maybe not now that Ash is here. Imagine if we could close all the rifts.”
“Yeah, imagine. Now, can I take a look at that chin?”
I lifted my chin for him to see better. “That’s what I came here for.”
“I know that, but it’s still polite to ask a lady before you touch her.”
“Says the half-elven son of a whore.”
He smirked and dabbed at my chin with some gauze. “Is that really so bad? All my aunties taught me something men like Ash will never understand.”
“Really? And what’s that?”
“The sexiest thing a woman can ever say is yes.”
“Just don’t try to pay me when we’re done, okay? Ow!” I winced and pulled away.
He frowned. “What’d you say happened?”
“Ran into a tree branch. In the dark.”
“Must’ve been one hell of a tree branch to leave a bruise like a fist and split open your chin like that.”
I stood. “You know what? On second thought, maybe it’ll heal on its own.”
“I saw my fair share of bad stuff at the brothel too,” Dex said as I moved away. “Assholes who wanted to get rough with the girls. I know what that looks like when I see it, Ember.”
I hesitated under the cover. The rain had picked up. “Look, I appreciate your concern, but I can handle it.”
“I don’t doubt that you can. You’re a hell of a woman. Strong as hell. You punched me, remember? But you should know that you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here. That’s all I’m saying.”
I turned back around, my throat tight. My cheeks felt like they were on fire. Was it shame that made my skin burn or the oppressive humidity, the stifling, rebreathed air under the lean-to?
Dex put his hat back on and tugged it down slightly. “You let me know when and how I can help. When you’re ready. Until then…” He kicked out the stool across from him. “We can talk about pink fluffy bunnies or whatever you want, just so long as you let me put a little disinfectant on that wound.”
“Pink fluffy bunnies?”
He shrugged. “Makeup? Swords? I don’t know. Just don’t ask me to braid your hair because I’m all thumbs with hair.”
“I figured you’d say you were good with your hands.”
“Oh, I am. It’s the hair that’s the problem. Never could do a thing with it.” He grinned ear to pointy ear.
I laughed and went to sit back down. It felt good to laugh after everything that had just happened. Maybe there was something to what Dex was saying about humans not being solitary creatures. I’d been on my own so long, spent so much time dreaming about Ash coming back that I jumped headfirst into this hunt. I was tired of fighting alone, of being alone. Part of me had always hoped we’d get the chance to go back to the way things were. For a minute, when I saw he could seal the rifts, I
thought maybe that could happen.
But Ash was right about one thing. The man I thought I knew was dead and gone.
At least there’s the dragon’s heart, I thought as Dex carefully bandaged my chin. If I can get it instead of Ash, maybe I won’t have to die alone. I curled my fingers on the table. That’s what I’ll do then. I’ll take the dragon’s heart for myself.
“There,” he said, leaning back to admire his handiwork. “Damn, is there anything I can’t do?”
“Maybe humility.”
“What are you talking about? I’m the humblest half-elf you’ve ever met.”
“You’re the only half elf.”
The temperature seemed to drop. I shivered and pulled the cloak closer until I remembered it belonged to Ash. I wanted to throw it off in disgust, but it was the only thing keeping me from freezing in the cold mountain rain.
“Do you still love him?”
I looked up from the cloak. All the smiles had faded from Dex’s face, all the joy. He was more serious than I’d ever seen him. “Who? Ash?”
“You said before you thought you were in love with him once.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know how I feel about anything anymore. I just want to kill this stupid dragon and move on with my life, forget all this ever happened.”
“I don’t want to forget you,” Dex said solemnly. “And I don’t want you to forget me.”
I shifted in my seat without looking at him, the air suddenly heavier. Silence stretched out, thinning into a dozen strands between us.
“Shit.” Dex drew a hand over his face and slapped a palm on the table. “I’ve had too much to drink. I’m just spitting out everything, aren’t I? I’m surprised my hands were steady enough to get the bandage on straight.”
“Well, you’d better sober up. Zia said to meet her at the command tent in ten minutes. We’re probably already late.” I stood up.
“Yeah, probably.” Dex stood with me and let out a relieved sigh. “I’ll, uh, meet you there. All that beer, straight to the bladder. Stall for me, will you?”
I nodded and trudged off. Even though the rain was cold, and the night colder, I took off Ash’s cloak and let it fall into the mud.
Chapter Nineteen
Ash placed a guard outside my tent to make sure I didn’t leave. He didn’t tell me that’s what he was doing, but I noted the guard’s presence all the same when I returned from the command tent. Much to my disappointment, I had drawn the short straw and pulled the sunrise shift, which meant I’d get a whopping three hours of sleep. Considering the limited time I had to enjoy said sleep, I decided it was best not to argue with the guard leisurely patrolling out in front of my tent.
I fell asleep to the sound of rain on the tent walls.
My dreams took me back to the ancient forest with its mossy floor and misty air, but the shadow warrior was not there. I turned a full circle in the chilling silence. My breath came out in small white clouds, almost indistinguishable in the fog.
“Where are you?”
The only answer was my echo, shouting back at me.
“I know you’re here. You brought me here for a reason, creature, so speak!”
Silence.
I clenched my fists. “Tell me what you want from me!”
“What I want does not matter.” The voice that answered was a whisper and a scream at the same time, filling the air like thunder.
I turned, scanning the dark forest for any sign of movement, but all was still. “Then what does matter to you? What am I to you, creature?”
“A means to an end,” it replied. “What end, I cannot say. That is for you to decide.”
“Why me? What makes me so special?” I heard a sound behind me, so I turned again, but the air was empty except for more trees, more mist.
“Nothing. Everything. Like all life, you are a product of circumstance, the bastard child of chance and fate.”
The voice seemed to be shifting, moving somewhere in the tree line, just beyond where I could see. I kept turning, trying to follow it, to pinpoint its location, but it was always a few steps ahead of me. “Anyone could have picked up that sword at the blacksmith shop.”
“And yet you did. It was chance that you were even in Atlanta that day, chance that you damaged your weapon battling the troll, chance that the postal wagon convoy leader did not listen when you advised against that route. A thousand things had to happen, all of them beyond your control, to bring us together. And here we are, partners in this endeavor.”
I gave up searching for the source of the voice. “Doesn’t seem like a partnership. I have gotten nothing out of it, and I still don’t know what you want. So far, it’s all nightmares and weird voices in my head.”
“Ash!” My voice echoed through the forest, though I had said nothing. Green specters materialized in the fog, outlines of Ash and I standing in the rift's light. I reached for him as he disappeared into it. “Ash, don’t leave me!”
To my right, more green silhouettes appeared. I watched as Ash’s outline struck my face.
I turned away from the scene. “Why are you showing me this?”
“You hear. I see,” replied the shadow warrior. “Through your eyes, I know the world.”
“Is that what you want? To control my body?”
“No.” Fog swirled, materializing into a misty version of the creature’s body. “I am without form by choice. Form is limiting. Being is limitless.”
“Seems pretty limiting to me. You can’t touch or be touched, can’t interact with the real world. Without me, you’re just a dead spirit in a forgotten sword.” I folded my arms. “I don’t have time for this. If you don’t start making some sense, I’m going to wake up right now.”
The shadow warrior dropped to all fours and let out a roar that shook the leaves from the trees. “You would not be so trite with me, girl, if you knew what was coming. I have seen the Black City at the broken edge of reality, and peered at what lies beyond it. I have seen the corruption its whispers bring, and there is no waking from that nightmare.”
I unfolded my arms. “I don’t understand. That’s the third time I’ve heard about this Black City. What is it?”
“It is the home of the Ashen Throne. Once, it was the seat of the god Hastur, lord of shepherds. Now, the throne is empty. When heaven is empty of gods, the foolish seek to become them. But there are older things than elves, beings from before time. They feed.”
I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. “On what?”
“Greed. Suffering. Nightmares. The Old Ones hunger for many unpleasant things. With their claws and their carapaces, they reach through holes in the Black City and into new worlds, new feeding grounds. They whisper without detection, patient cultivators, and grow misery like fields of dead corn stalks for their feasting. One by one, they make the worlds go dark.”
The shadow warrior lifted a long claw and pointed skyward. The fog cleared, revealing a shadowy throne, sparkling like black ice in the moonlight. “We heard the whispers too late, and in our pride, sought a way into the Black City to slam closed the breaches that let their voices through. Yet the whispers corrupted even that. Those who looked upon the Ashen Throne wanted it for themselves. We fought. And when the wars nearly destroyed our people, desperation drove us.”
“I know the elves opened the rifts,” I said. “Your people destroyed my world.”
The shadow warrior shook his head, antlers rattling. “It is not the flight of the Elves of which I speak. I speak of the last stand of my people. When it looked as if all was lost, the Felmor gathered. It was decided that one warrior from each clan would enter the Black City, not as a living creature, but as a formless monster. A weapon, capable of tearing down the throne of the gods and silencing the Old Ones forever. We believed those without form were immune to the whispers of the Old Ones.”
I stared at the black throne, almost transfixed by the way it drank in the light. “You’re one of those warriors?”
“I was sent
forth at a great cost. Every man, woman, and child shed their blood to fuel the magic that would transform me. That is the cost of assaulting the Ashen Throne. Yet even at that price, we could not succeed.” The shadow warrior curled his claws around the moon and pulled it down, plunging the whole forest into darkness. “The Black City shut its gates to us. My people died for nothing!”
I spun around in the pitch black, searching in a panic for any source of light and finding none. “That’s not my fault!”
“Fool,” it spat. “Listen, as I have. Do you hear the whispers as I do? I know they are lies, and the very sound of their voices makes me hate them. The whispers have come to your world now, girl, and your people are too fractured to even fight them.”
Slowly, light returned to the sky, but it was a sickly yellow light hanging just below the tree line. The shadow warrior knelt in the grass before me. It raised its head slightly to look at me with red eyes. “You ask me what I am. I am a weapon that has grown dull. Sharpen me. Hone me. Use me. Whether you an instrument of the gods I once sought to subvert, or a champion against them, I care not. Both are better than the dull silence I have known these last years. Either way, it is an end.” The shadow creature lowered his head. “I am yours to command.”
I sat up in my tent, gasping for air. It was too hot, and everything smelled like mud and sweat. I started to move my hand, only to realize that I had drawn my sword in my sleep. Looking down at my palm, I noticed a strange green tendril growing out of the pommel. When I moved my hand, the other end of the tendril detached itself from the center of my palm and curled back into the sword like a dying root.
Shocked and disgusted, I recoiled and threw the sword away from me. What the hell was that? I lifted my palm. There was a bleeding hole in the center of it where the root had detached. Was that thing feeding on me? I shuddered at the thought. Maybe I shouldn’t take information obtained in dreams at face value. For all I knew, the thing that had been speaking to me was one of those Old Ones whispering in my head. But then, why would it tell me about itself? Maybe because it wanted me to use the sword…
