“You really are quite soft, aren’t you?” Lutheron’s voice came quiet with no small amount of amusement in the words.
Charm cracked an eye open regarding the man darkly. They were at a small camp in the middle of nowhere. All Charm could say for sure was that he was in Gaelyn. For the past week, he had been drug from village to village examining the dead. There had been no sign of Solace or Hawk, and as far as Charm could tell from the carnage the rangers were likely dead. “I can sleep like a baby in a gutter or on a tiled roof. I can live off rats for days and you won’t hear a word of complaint. I can drink ale in the foulest of bars and I can go days without sleep. I am not soft. I am city born, and there is a difference,” he replied, his tone sounding peevish even to himself.
One of the wolves lounging on the far side of their small camp fire gave a growling chuckle. Charm regarded the shifter and considered a wolf skin cloak. Lutheron gave a slight nod and tossed another piece of firewood into the flames. “I used to be city born,” he said quietly, not even glancing Charm’s way.
Charm regarded Lutheron with doubt. Over the course of the past week, he had come to believe Lutheron had slithered out of the shadows rather than something as mundane as being born in a city. The man seemed purely inhuman. Nothing fazed him. Nothing. They could find the body of a child, torn and bloody, and Lutheron would regard it as if it were a sample of meat in a butcher’s shop. His demeanor never changed from what Charm could tell. “Which city?” Charm asked. If nothing else, he would get conversation to distract him from the mosquitoes and rocks.
Leaning back on his arms, Lutheron regarded the bright starlit night. “It was beyond the Barrier, and it was a very long time ago.” His gaze seemed lost for a time, and the camp was silent as they waited to see if he would continue. Charm himself knew very little about Lutheron. He didn’t think many did know much about the man, except perhaps Caspian. “I was young when I was locked in here, maybe seventeen. I still remember what freedom tastes like though. I can remember living without a constant eye over my shoulder.”
“It’s what you make of it,” Charm replied. He didn’t meet Lutheron’s gaze, but he could feel the dark eyes upon him. The topic was a delicate one with most Immortals, and Charm usually avoided it. “If you consider it a prison, all of your thoughts will be toward escape. If you consider it home, all of your thoughts will be on improving it. We both know escape is impossible, so it’s better to accept it.” He shifted again and succeeded in dislodging a rock from beneath him. He gave a small sigh of contentment at the relief of the gouging and dared a glance at Lutheron. “Sure we have some neighbors that are pretty bad, but all in all, the Guardians could have done worse for us. At least they gave us the means to survive if we choose to. They could have locked us in a wasteland. They could have removed our magic entirely, but they didn’t.”
“I’m not sure they could have removed the magic entirely from some of us,” Lutheron objected, but his tone was mild as usual. He was showing no more emotion than he did examining dead children.
Charm gave a shrug. “They could have taken mine. I don’t have much in the way of magic. Most of what I do, anyone could do with the proper learning.”
“You are supposed to be the sneakiest individual in the prison,” Lutheron said as he prodded the fire sending sparks dancing into the air.
“That’s debatable, for there are quite a few rogues in this prison. My master used to say when the world ended it would be filled with cockroaches and thieves because both know well how to hide when light is shined their way.” He pulled a flask from his cloak and took a small sip. He offered the flask to Lutheron and was rewarded with a brief flash of amazement on the swordsman’s face as he tasted the contents.
“Water?” Lutheron asked in disbelief.
Charm gave a chuckle and shrugged. “I don’t partake of alcohol unless the situation demands it,” he explained.
Across the fire from them the youngest of the three Shifters sat up. His nose twitched as he scented the air and the hackles on his back slowly rose. His companion stirred from sleep his nose quivering, as well. “Blood,” growled the first, the word so guttural it was barely recognizable.
“Check our sentry, Charm, be quick and quiet,” Lutheron ordered as he handed back the flask. He stood and kicked dirt over the small fire dousing the flames.
Charm rose and faded into the shadows, musing again how everyone seemed to believe if you could hide well in one shadow you could hide well in all of them. It wasn’t the darkness that had been proving a problem for him the past week. He knew how to conceal himself well enough. It was the bloody terrain. In the city, one didn’t have branches that would break if you stepped wrong. Alleys might have trash, but they rarely concealed holes or root snags such as the wilderness did. Moving far more slowly than he would have in his own environment, Charm edged toward the area he had last known the sentry to be in. It was a rough guess at best. The wolves tended to roam as they guarded. With a bit of luck, he would find the Shifter dining on some helpless animal that wandered too near. Though he doubted the two Shifters by the fire would have bestirred themselves over the scent of rabbit’s blood, unless it was to go claim a portion of the kill.
It seemed hours before he found the boy’s body, though Charm knew it had likely just been minutes. Sneaking and moving slowly had a way of warping time, making every minute drag by. The Shifter had reverted to his human form in death, and Charm found himself gaping at the boy’s age. He didn’t look more than twelve at best. He scanned the area for any sign of what had killed the child, and looked back down at the body. The expression on the pale face was peaceful. He hadn’t even realized death was coming for him. It was a near impossible thing to surprise a Shifter, especially when they were on guard. Snarls arose from the camp behind him, the viscous growls of wolves in combat.
“Charm, return now. Forget stealth and run,” Lutheron’s voice cut through the growls like a commander on a battlefield.
“Abandon stealth?” Charm repeated in a hoarse whisper, completely bewildered. He wondered if Lutheron had listened to him at all when he spoke earlier. A good rogue survived because he knew when to scurry into the dark. Now seemed a very good time for scurrying. With a final glance at the boy’s body he turned and, despite all instincts, ran openly back to camp. Another of the Shifter’s was on the ground with blood gushing from several gashes across the neck and face. Charm could see their last scout tangling in the air as if ripping a limb from something, but there didn’t appear to be anything there.
“Come here, Charm,” Lutheron barked as if giving commands to a dog. Charm regarded him for the briefest of moments and then moved quickly to Lutheron’s side. If acting like a dog was what kept him alive, he would bark on command. Without actually being able to see whatever the Shifter fought, he found himself feeling uncomfortably helpless. It was a situation he wasn’t familiar with. A shrill cry came from the last Shifter as the creature’s body was nearly ripped in two. Charm watched its body fly as though hurled with great effort and land bouncing on the ground, yards from their camp.
“What in the hell is going on?” Charm gasped, hoping Lutheron had the answer because he most certainly didn’t. Shifters were hardy creatures and whatever was out there was killing them as if they were lambs to the slaughter.
“Try to stay beside me, it’s the only option you have for survival,” Lutheron said in his damnably calm voice. Charm watched in disbelief as the swordsman calmly planted his sword point down into the ground and removed his glove.
“Won’t you be needing that for fighting?” Charm asked, motioning at the sword frantically. Lutheron was a legend amongst sword masters. It was quite unsettling to see him setting aside his weapon when he obviously needed to be swinging it with vigor at whatever was slaughtering their comrades.
Lutheron ignored him and held his bare palm out flat as if signaling the attackers to stop. The camp fell completely silent, not even the dying shifter giving voice to its
pain. Magic began to ebb from Lutheron, and the hairs on the back of Charm’s neck rose in response. At first it was like being startled with simply the quickening of his pulse. It grew gradually from the barest of unease to gut wrenching terror. Charm felt his muscles tense and turned to bolt. A hand shot out and grabbed him by the back of the cloak. He let out a cry and struggled, trying desperately to flee whatever horrible magic Lutheron was using. The hold on him was like a vice, and his feet did nothing more than tear at the earth below him. He kicked and squirmed as his instincts screamed for him to flee. The hold on his cloak increased and he began to sob, a choked painful sound, more animal than human.
The magic coursed from Lutheron again and his knees buckled, his tears, sobs, and cries of despair were the only things in his world now. Nothing else outside his own terror and misery existed. He huddled there at Lutheron’s feet, bundled into his cloak too terrified to look up, waiting for his death, waiting for Lutheron to send him to whatever hell had spawned him. He heard a brief scream nearby and braced himself waiting to feel the sharp tearing claws as the poor Shifters had. Nothing happened.
Gradually he became aware he was no longer shaking and the sobs had stopped. The vice-like grip was gone from him, as well. Slowly, he unrolled from his cloak and dared to look up. Lutheron was crouched over something, and the night was still and clear around them. The smell of blood was thick in the air, but that was nothing new to Charm. He unfolded himself completely and wiped the tears from his face. The unnatural terror was gone now, and anger and shame warred for the void it had left.
“What the hell was that?” Charm demanded, his outrage filling the silence. Even when he had been a child, he had never felt so foolish. He had never been the sort to cower and sob.
Lutheron looked up at him with a raised eyebrow and slowly stood. He had the audacity to smile then, and Charm felt his anger boiling. “You’re welcome,” Lutheron replied with a smirk.
“What? You send me shivering to the ground like an infant and seem to believe I should thank you?”
“The fear was directed at the creatures, actually. You were not my intent. I did keep you from fleeing, though, and surely that deserves thanks. Would that I could have used it before our scouts died, but I could not have judged how they would react. Most flee when frightened, some cower and cry, and then those rare few will attack. I didn’t think we needed Shifters trying to maul us as well as these things.” Lutheron stood as he spoke and motioned down at the crumpled body at his feet.
Charm moved forward slowly to look at the thing. His anger was still up, but there didn’t seem to be much use in pursuing the matter. His stiffened posture loosened a bit as he studied the creature. His anger was slowly giving way to disbelief. It was small, perhaps a little over three feet. If it had been human, he would have guessed the age around six. It was most certainly not human though. The talons on the creature’s hands and feet were close to two inches long and caked with blood and fur from the Shifters. Charm prodded it gently with his foot, rolling the corpse over onto its back. The nerveless limbs flopped as the body rolled and the sightless blue eyes fixed on the night sky above. It had been a female, and if not for the talons and sharpened teeth it would have been an adorable child. She had blond hair so rich in color it resembled spun gold, and chubby cheeks that would have shown dimples when she smiled. “Demon blooded?” Charm asked hesitantly.
“Does she look like one of yours to you, Charm?” Lutheron asked mildly, his dark eyes fixed on Charm.
Charm shifted and frowned. No one in this prison knew him for what he was, with the exception of one man, and he sincerely doubted that person had ever had a conversation with Lutheron. “No, but demon blood shows itself in different ways,” he answered quietly.
Lutheron surveyed the surrounding trees and studied the direction they had been heading. He inhaled deeply and looked back to Charm. Wordlessly, he wiped his blade clean on the child’s body and put it away. “Get it out of your system before we move on. I won’t answer questions once we’ve left here,” he said at last, his gaze fixed on the night sky rather than Charm.
“How do you know what I am?” Charm asked without pause.
“Because I can read your fears. You are afraid of being known for the half-breed you are. It’s not as if anyone in this prison has a pedigree anymore but you are a special case. You are an abomination in your own eyes, so you fear discovery. You also fear being known as a Guardian.” Lutheron paused and chuckled lightly, and Charm felt all blood drain from his face. “Yes, I know what you are Charm, and I will keep your secret. If I told anyone you were a prison warden, they would kill you and bring you back from death just to kill you again.”
“How could you know that?” Charm demanded. He had been so careful and had avoided using magics just for this purpose. He had lived a simple life among them, never giving any of the prisoners’ reason to suspect he was anything but one of them. To have this man so casually toss his darkest secrets back into his face was something he couldn’t quite find the word for. There were so many words that could describe this situation, but the one he finally settled on was terrifying. Lutheron was right, if others discovered he was a Guardian a clean death would be the best he could hope for, and the least likely fate to be granted.
Lutheron gave him a smile and calmly held up his hand. Claw marks raked across the back of it, three deep furrows into the pale skin with blood dripping from the wound. It wasn’t red as it should be. It gleamed like metal in the moonlight, silver droplets running down Lutheron’s pale hand. He raised and lowered his eyebrows at Charm and gave him a predatory smile. “I see by your expression you understand,” Lutheron said.
“You’re a Divine,” Charm replied in a voice barely above a whisper. An Aspect was a god to the commons but not too impressive to an Immortal. Depending on the Aspect they represented, they could be quite powerful but still not too far above that of a powerful mage by the standards of the Houses. A Divine was another matter entirely. A Divine was a creature of legend even to Immortals. They did not simply represent an Aspect of life. They had complete and utter control over it and according to stories, there was nothing you could do on the matter. “You are the Divine of Fear?” Charm asked, his throat suddenly dry.
“And Nightmares,” Lutheron agreed with a nod as if they were discussing the weather. “And these creatures are remarkably hard to frighten. Much more, and I think I would have caused you serious harm. I am not sure how much more your heart could have handled, by the way your pulse was racing. These things, however, were different. It took that much just to get them to respond.”
“But how did you get trapped by us, by the Guardians, that is? We didn’t intend for any Divines to be here,” Charm asked, not willing to let the topic pass so easily.
“You managed to get three of us, actually, and one that is half divine,” Lutheron replied. He was kneeling again and prodding the sword wound on the creature’s body. With a frown, he raised his hand back to his nose and sniffed lightly at the blood. His frown deepened and he looked around the clearing with a thoughtful expression. “No scent to the blood at all. It’s the Shifters blood that is fouling the air. These things have no scent whatsoever. I know there was more than one, and I had planned on being able to scent the others by their wounds. Pity they killed our horses. We will need to move soon.”
Charm turned in surprise to where the horses had been tied. Both beasts lay sprawled on the ground, clearly quite dead. He hadn’t even noticed the loss yet. He looked back at Lutheron and around the camp. The Divine was correct; they would need to move soon. He had also said he wouldn’t answer any more questions once they had left this area, though. “Who are the other two Divines? And what half-blood?” he asked quickly before Lutheron had a chance to move.
Lutheron glanced up and smiled. “Like a dog with a bone, aren’t you,” he replied mildly. With a flick of his fingers, he stored the creature’s body in a gem and stood back up. He gave his hand a cursory glanc
e and watched the last signs of the claw wounds fading with his regeneration. Apparently pleased with the healing, he pulled his glove back on. “War of course. He followed willingly. All of his favorite toys were coming here. Death naturally, though I don’t think she truly intended to be trapped. I still believe she thought herself powerful enough simply to walk back out of the Barrier. Then me, of course, I was young, as I said, newly risen to Divine, and I simply didn’t know any better.” He began to gather his gear as he spoke quickly rolling the bedroll and gathering his pack. Charm took the hint and began gathering his own things quickly. He flicked a glance to the dead Shifters and wondered what Lutheron meant to do about their dead comrades.
“And the half-blood?” Charm asked.
“Oh I think you know her. She isn’t the best loved in here and has a tendency of creating little nuisances, although I think she has outdone herself this time. These creatures promise to be much worse than the Bendazzi or Serpents. I think the Genji goblins were more a joke than anything serious, but they were her children as well,” Lutheron answered. With a final look around, he began to walk south.
Charm looked back to the bodies and hurried after Lutheron. “Shouldn’t we bury them or something?” he asked.
Lutheron glanced over his shoulder and gave a slight shake of his head. “The longer we are out here in the open, the more of a chance you will die, Charm. They choose to live like wolves and no one buries a wolf,” Lutheron spoke with finality, and it was clear that he had no intention of changing his mind, so Charm let the matter rest. He wasn’t happy about leaving the scouts untended, but he wasn’t in the position to argue either.
“Where are we headed?” Charm asked after they had walked a short distance. To him, it seemed the best course of action would be to return to Fionahold and hand over the body as well as their report. Lutheron, however, appeared to have other plans.
The Elder Blood Chronicles Bk 1 In Shades of Grey Page 35
