Enemies and Allies (Bound to the Abyss Book 3)

by James R. Vernon

  "Yes, you free monsters into our world. Dangerous monsters. I've seen what a Cruxlum can do first-hand, remember? What if one of your big friends gets angry and decides to take it out on the village?"

  "Cruxlum do not attack unless told," Lotrug said in his broken human. "No glory in attacking little humans. Like kicking imps. Pointless."

  "Lotrug," Ean said, barely able to keep a sigh of annoyance from escaping his mouth. "Why don't you go back to training. Bran isn’t a threat.”

  Without a word, the Crux nodded and left.

  "So, they follow your orders," Bran continued. "If I remember correctly, a lot of people in Rottwealth weren't exactly nice to you. What's to stop you from taking your revenge on–"

  ”You've known me for most of my life. Out of everyone in Rottwealth, you were one of the few to stick up for me. Do you honestly think I would do something like that?"

  "I didn't know about your connection to the Abyss until we started traveling together. What else don't I know?"

  "Bran, you and Jaslen--"

  "Don't say her name! You don't get to ever say her name!"

  The force of his words caught Ean off guard, and he instinctively tensed. Bran's face had gone beet red, and his fists were clenched in front of his body. Ean did his best not to tense up as well. They wouldn't accomplish anything if Bran and he came to blows.

  "Bran, did something happen to . . . her?"

  "I've lost her."

  Ean felt like the breath had been sucked out of his body. Jaslen was dead? How? Ean had long since gotten over his crush on the girl, but she had always been a friend. Even though they had parted on bad terms, he had hoped that both Bran and she had made it out of Rensen Forest.

  "I had no idea. How did she die?"

  "Die? She isn't dead. She's gone. Left me in Lurthalan. She changed after we fled from you. Probably something your magic did to her."

  "Bran, there is no way that is true." Well, it was true the energy of the Abyss could change things, including people, but Jaslen hadn't been changed by anything he had done. "I didn't let the energy of the Abyss touch her. I made sure of it.”

  “If it wasn’t your energy, it was just as sure your talk about the Abyss. Always a curious girl, she couldn’t get enough of it. Then, after she saw the dark magic working its way within you, it became her obsession. Things were great between us until we left Rottwealth together. I don’t know why I’m wasting my time telling you this. I ought to just send for the Seekers and let them clear you out of the mine. And, out of my life, for good.”

  Now that was going too far.

  "You would threaten me with the Seekers? You've seen what they are capable of, their ruthlessness. The one that almost captured us made it clear he would have just as happily killed you and Jaslen as he would me. You would be putting our village in just as much danger. Now who is the one being selfish?"

  "Don't you dare question my loyalty to Rottwealth. I'm the one that followed through with the mission. I killed the beast. What did you do? You came in and took over the mines after I saved the village."

  "It wasn't my choice. This was where I was brought back. You have no idea what I went through."

  "And to be honest, I don't care."

  And that was it. That summed up their whole relationship. Bran had been kind, one of the few in the village that ever showed him compassion and friendship. But it was all a show—for Jaslen, for the town, maybe even for the gods. In Ean’s eyes, Bran was just as bad as anyone else in the village. Which made things that much easier.

  "Then let's lay everything out, Bran. The creature that you killed, although horrible, was nothing compared to the strength and ferocity of one Crux. And at the moment, I have six of them living here. This mine is now my home. If the people of Rottwealth want to mine from it, it will be on my terms and mine alone."

  Bran’s face flushed and he looked on the verge of lunging towards Ean. All Ean felt was indifference. This one man couldn’t intimidate him. After a few moments, Bran’s scowl turned to uncertainty, as if he realized the situation he was in.

  "And what are your terms?"

  "Simple." Despite Bran's hostility, Ean decided to stick to the original plan. "Any villager that wants to work the mines is welcome here. As long as they stick to designated areas and do not wander about, we’ll get along splendidly. Anyone caught where they shouldn't be will be banned from the mine. No exceptions. Understand, this is for their safety more than any fear I have that they might steal something. You might want to also mention how dangerous it could be for curious folks to surprise one of the creatures that live here now."

  "Understood. What else?"

  "That's it, Bran. That's all I really wanted. I'm not charging any kind of tax or trying to take anything from the people of Rottwealth. The only thing I need from you is to trade the material I dig up and create as well. I don't exactly have anyone here that wouldn't frighten off a trader."

  "And I suppose you want to have some control over the Rottwealth as well?"

  "I know Cleff had ownership of the marsh, but he's gone . . . " That pain was still fresh in Ean's heart. The man had been his guardian, but even with his harsh upbringing, Ean had always respected him and looked to him as a father figure. The fact that Cleff had been killed by the beast while Ean was away still weighed heavily on him. "If Cleff had no will, then the marsh belongs to the village now. I expect to have just as much of a right to it as everyone else; no more, no less."

  "Yes, well, that all doesn't sound as bad as I expected."

  "I'm not here to take over anything, Bran. I'm just working with what fate has thrust upon me. Believe me, all I want is a peaceful life."

  "Yes, well, I guess we don't have much choice but to wait and see if that’s the truth. I'll take your terms back to my father. Expect to hear from us soon."

  Without even a nod, Bran turned and walked out of the room. Ean waited until he was gone before letting out a sigh of relief.

  "You handled that well," Zin said, moving to his side.

  "I agree," Azalea said from his other side. "Throughout your exchange, the whiskey taste of rage wafted off of him towards you . . . very tasty. Then it changed to bitter resignation slightly seasoned with curiosity. The whole exchange was delicious."

  "That's good, I suppose. It’s obvious he holds whatever happened between him and Jaslen against me, though. That could be a problem."

  "Oh yes," Azalea laughed. "Most of that rage spiked whenever she was mentioned. I was surprised he didn't at least try to hit you."

  "Wonderful. I'm sure he will sing my praises, then, when he explains things to his father, who will then twist things and make them even worse with the rest of the village."

  "We could always go with Jaan's plan and enslave everyone. That would simplify things."

  "I think you're missing the big picture," Zin chimed in. "Jaslen is single now, so you could always try to pursue that hopeless cause if this whole 'overlord of the mine' thing gets too difficult."

  Ean wanted to throttle them both.

  Chapter 2

  Despite his fears, the mayor agreed to his terms. He made Ean wait eleven days, of course, before he sent Bran back to deliver the news. The man even had the agreement written down on paper for Ean to sign. Ean had no problem with making everything as official as possible and had signed his name with a flourish in large letters. Bran took it without a word. The mayor’s son stalked out before Ean could say anything else to him.

  Four men and a woman had come with pick axes to work the mine the very next day. Ean was there at the entrance to greet them, a combination of curiosity and a desire just to take a step outside had made him want to be the official greeter. With Azalea being the only human-looking creature in his service and afraid of humans now, Ean had been the only real choice anyway. He wanted them to feel comfortable working here, and having a sarcastic imp or intimidating Cruxlum bring them in would not have been the best start. He had led them to where they could mine,
ignoring the looks they sent his way, and left a Crux named Creaves to make sure they didn't wander off. That had been this morning. After making sure the people were set, Ean had gone to the Cruxlum barracks to train. His body was now telling him that had been a mistake.

  Ean ducked under the right hook of Jaan's upper fist, then dodged to the left as the Crux sent an uppercut with his left arm. The Crux was fast for his size–all of his kind were–but Ean was holding his own. With the energy of the Abyss flowing through him, all of his senses were heightened. He had the strength to match that of the Crux. His reflexes and speed were beyond what a normal human was capable of. His body withstood blows and healed from wounds and broken bones at impossible rates. Not only that, but his bonds to his Hound and Azalea enhanced his physical abilities even further.

  None of that, though, made him a skilled fighter.

  “You’d do better if you didn’t get hit so much!” Zin offered “encouragement” from the sidelines. He and Azalea liked to sneak in after the sparring had started and watch him get the tar beaten out of him. Their casual conversation was rarely helpful.

  “What are you talking about, imp?” Azalea countered. “You’ve never been in a fight.”

  “I have so!” Zin said. “Ean, tell him about that one time I saved you from the Seeker.”

  “I’m busy at the moment.” Ean dodged out of the way of two wagon-wheel-sized fists. A third fist struck his shoulder and spun him around. Jaan grabbed the front of his shirt as he dodged to the left and lifted him into the air. Ean tried to wrestle himself free, but three more hands secured his arms. Even with his magic-fueled strength, Ean couldn't break free from the iron grip.

  "You are dead," Jaan said to him in Crux.

  "Not dead, just captured." The snarl that appeared on the Crux's face told Ean he had said the wrong thing.

  Before Ean could do anything, the Crux had an arm and leg in each hand. He stretched Ean out spread-eagle as easily as a child would with a straw doll. Then Jaan pulled even harder.

  Muscles burned. Joints popped. It was becoming hard for Ean to breath. He wanted to scream but couldn't suck in any air.

  Jaan relaxed his grip enough that the intense pain in all of Ean's appendages was reduced to a light burning sensation. Ean inhaled sharply, his lungs filling with air as if for the first time. His body went limp in the Crux's grip, and he hung there painfully as his body tried to recover from the ordeal.

  "In the Abyss, prisoners are only taken if they can be controlled," Jaan said, shaking his head. "You are not a person that could easily be controlled. I do not understand your magic, but I think you would make even the strongest in the Abyss nervous. Your enemies are more likely to put you down instead of trying to take you alive. You need to fight as if death was always the price of losing."

  "I understand," Ean managed to get out between ragged breaths.

  "Do you?" The Crux's grip began to tighten again.

  "Yes, yes. I must fight as if every battle was my last."

  The Crux stared at him for a moment then released him. "I suppose I believe you, human."

  Ean was barely able to keep his feet under him as he was dropped to the ground. His arms and legs felt like rubber, and by the strange way his right shoulder was sitting, it was probably dislocated.

  "Fix my shoulder, Jaan."

  It felt good to give the Crux orders right after being manhandled. Right after receiving a sound beating was one of the few times that Ean didn't feel uncomfortable giving orders to those that lived in the mines. Cleff had raised him to be a Healer, not a leader. And now, he not only had to lead what most would consider a pack of monsters, but he also had to be diplomatic with the people of Rottwealth. Especially with the mayor and Bran. At least that front had gone better than this sparring match.

  "Hold still." Not waiting for a reply, the Crux gripped him roughly with all four arms. There was a spine-tingling pop as Jaan forced Ean’s shoulder into place, immediately followed by another jolt of pain.

  "You could have been a bit more gentle," Ean complained while rubbing at his shoulder.

  "You could have fought better and not gotten caught in the first place."

  "It's not really fair, you know, with you having four arms."

  "Be sure to inform your next opponent of your wishes before combat. I am sure he will listen before he runs you through with his sword or rips you apart. Now stop acting like a baby and let us continue."

  "Fine."

  Training was the one time Jaan didn't treat Ean as his master, evident in his lack of remorse in almost tearing him limb from limb. If Ean's mind wasn't focused on training, the Crux would make him pay for it with bruises and broken bones. Then, while the energy flowing in Ean's body healed his wounds, Jaan would lay into him verbally about how pathetic a fighter he was and how he wouldn't survive a day in the Abyss. When the verbal beating was finished, Jaan would grow serious and they would discuss different aspects of leadership and strategy. The cycle of training would then start again as soon as Ean was well enough to continue. After three seasons of training like this every couple of days, Ean had come to appreciate all of the knowledge that the Crux imparted to him. Out of everyone, as far as Ean knew, Jaan had no ulterior motives other than to make him a better leader. It was because of this that he trusted Jaan and his observations without doubt.

  It was almost comical how the few people that had gained Ean's trust weren't human at all.

  They trained long enough for Ean to lose three more times before calling it a day. Those bouts ended either with Ean being knocked unconscious for a time or suffering a broken arm or wrist. By the time Ean had finished training for the day and was walking back to his room, his body felt as if it had been trampled by a herd of oxen. He still didn't understand how his tattoos and the energy from the Abyss could heal injuries as fast as they did but still left him with the pain. One would think the two went hand in hand.

  "Pain is a lesson."

  "Auz," he said aloud. "I would prefer if you did not read every thought that passes through my head."

  The first season of talking to a voice in his mind had been strange, but he was used to it now. That didn't mean he liked having Auz lurking about in his head, listening in on all of his thoughts. Ean never felt like he was alone or could keep things completely to himself.

  "How would Auz know what Ean was thinking if it did not listen?"

  "You wouldn't, that’s the point."

  "Auz must know. What does Ean want Auz not to know?"

  "Never mind. You were saying about pain being a lesson?"

  "Yes."

  Silenced followed. Sometimes Ean didn't know if the entity was truly naive or intentionally cryptic. Either way, it somehow managed to annoy him on a daily basis with its simple answers.

  "Ok. What did you mean when you said 'Pain is a lesson'?"

  "Pain reminds that immortality should not breed recklessness."

  "But if I'm immortal like you say"–which was certainly not something he had tested out–"why would being reckless matter? If anything happens, my body would heal itself."

  "Healing does not help if buried alive. Does not help if burned to ash. Does not help if Crux rips to pieces and scatters about. "

  A valid point.

  "Are one of those ways how your previous master died?"

  "No." The voice had dropped to a whisper.

  "How then?"

  "BETRAYED."

  Ean stumbled from the force Auz put behind that one word. His hand scraped along the rock wall as he barely kept himself from falling face first onto the gravel floor. Focusing on the burning sensations in his muscles from training, Ean crouched in the hallway until his mind stopped bouncing around the inside of his head. That was the first time Auz's voice had brought him to his knees. There was so much Ean still didn't know about what had been done to his body when he died and what his connection to Auz truly entailed. One day soon, he would need to search out those answers elsewhere since getting
answers from Auz tested of his patience. At least Auz should be able to answer one question for him.

  "Can you be more specific and tell me how he was betrayed? In a way that doesn't make my mind feel like it was stomped on?"

  "No."

  "No? What do you mean ‘no?’ No, you can't be more specific or no, you won't tell me at all?"

  "Yes."

  Ean hit the stone wall with his already sore hand. Is it too much to ask to just get a straight answer for once?

  "No."

  "Stop listening to my—"

  As he rounded a corner Ean almost ran smack into the miners from Rottwealth. They glanced at Ean, then back at the Crux, Creaves, escorting them, then back at Ean. The man closest glanced behind Ean for a moment before speaking.

  "Sorry . . . uh, sir. Were you talking to someone?"

  "No." Turning to Creaves, he spoke to him in Crux. "Keep them moving."

  The Crux nodded and herded the miners on. As they moved past Ean and further down the hall, Ean overheard a few whispered words.

  "Crazy I tell you, talks to thin air," a man mumbled.

  "Watch what you say in front of his monster," one of his companions replied.

  "I don't know why the Mayor lets him control the mine."

  " . . . not safe to let those beasts live so close . . . "

  " . . . Bran should take care of him like he did the previous monster . . . "

  Ean strode away before he could hear any more. Most of it he had expected. The villagers had only just been freed of the monster that had previously been in these mines. A monster that had killed and destroyed indiscriminately. It was natural for them to be nervous about the creatures living here now. If it kept them from wandering around and getting into trouble, all the better. Let them be afraid, it didn't matter to him . . .

  Visions of death and destruction raced through his mind. Memories of the nightmares that plagued his sleep since he had inscribed that first tattoo into his palm . . . the tattoos that now spread across his entire body. Nightmares about using his power to corrupt humans into grotesque monsters, razing towns and villages, torturing people for his own amusement. Sometimes he wore his own face, and he knew the people he transformed or killed. Other times, his head was masked behind a helmet made of bone, and he could not see the faces of his victims. Regardless of what face he wore, he always woke up in the morning in a cold sweat.