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Eve of Redemption Omnibus: Volumes 1-3

Page 98

by Joe Jackson


  Kari smiled slightly when the distinctive ring of the succubus’ swords meeting Kari’s own cut through the air, and Kari turned slightly to her left. She remembered the aura she was able to project, and she extended Zalkar’s grace outwards. She got a very clear image of exactly where Turillia was and what she was doing. She could sense the succubus’ lifeforce, the fact that she was thoroughly evil, and one other important thing: she was extremely frustrated. In that moment, Kari recognized another difference between herself and Turillia: the succubus was not used to losing. Kari was a phenomenal fighter, but she had suffered her share of defeats – hundreds of them just while sparring against Tumureldi himself – and she knew how to keep her presence of mind when a fight turned against her. Turillia was growing ever more frustrated, and Kari wasn’t sure if it was because she couldn’t believe Kari was as good as she was, or because time was growing short and she wanted to get to Emma before anything else went wrong.

  Turillia apparently wasn’t aware that Kari could “see” her, and she tried to bait Kari with a wide, errant swing, to get the demonhunter to turn the wrong way. Kari did so, but she brought her guard up on her exposed left side and hopped in toward the succubus. Turillia had a brief moment of panic, and that was all Kari needed. She kicked Turillia’s knee hard enough that the succubus’ leg buckled. Kari followed that up without hesitation by driving her fist – still holding the pommel of her scimitar – squarely across the succubus’ jaw. Turillia very nearly lost consciousness, and Kari could feel it through her projected aura. Seizing the opportunity, Kari dropped one of her blades and twisted Turillia’s wrist to force her to drop hers, and then she spun the succubus to the mud with that same grip. Turillia flopped into the mud limply and lost her second blade, and Kari straddled the succubus, who was still trying to get her wits about her.

  Kari slammed her fist into Turillia’s jaw repeatedly, and her blows knocked free teeth and spattered her own fists and face with the succubus’ blood. Once satisfied that Turillia was far from coherent, Kari at last reached up and wiped her face. Turillia’s face was a mess of mud, blood, and rain, and her lips were shredded where Kari had crushed them between fist and fang. The succubus’ eyes were barely open, rolled back as she tried to regain her wits, and her mouth worked aimlessly, blowing blood bubbles as she fought to breathe. Kari turned the succubus over and then pulled her arms out behind her, and she used a technique Aeligos had taught her to dislocate both of the succubus’ shoulders.

  Turillia cried out in pain. “Stop, please stop,” she groaned in agony, barely audible over the rain. Her words were inarticulate because of her bloody mouth and newly-missing teeth, but Kari could make out what she was saying well enough. “Just kill me, and be done with it.”

  “Kill you?” Kari repeated. “No, you won’t get out of this so easily.”

  Eli had approached, and he drew up beside Kari, uncertainty on his features. “You’re not going to keep beating her, are you?” he asked.

  Kari flashed him a sour look, and pulled the manacles from her cloak’s inner pocket. She clasped them firmly on Turillia’s wrists, and through her projected aura, she could feel the canceling magic that emanated from them. They were still quite functional, and would keep the succubus bound and helpless. “Change in plans: I’m taking her back to DarkWind,” Kari said.

  The demonhunter picked up her scimitar and sheathed it, then dug around in the mud for a few long moments. She rose to her feet and held her hand out to Eli. He opened his hand curiously, and his eyes widened when Kari dropped the succubus’ fangs in his cupped hands. “Here, go make yourself a necklace,” she said, then she glanced eastward. “Any sign of Sharyn or that big black werewolf? And how is Emma?”

  “Emma’s hurt badly, but she seems to be stable. She didn’t even want Deirdre to touch her. No sign of Markus, Sharyn, or the werewolf, though,” Eli said as he scanned the square. He brushed his wet hair back from his face, and then turned toward Emma. “Well, if you’re going to use the manacles on Turillia, how are you going to capture Emma?”

  “Maybe we don’t have to,” Kari said. She began making her way over to Emma, but she collapsed her aura; she didn’t want to come across as hostile. Once she drew close, the mallasti girl’s eyes came up suddenly and she held a hand toward Kari with the fingers splayed. Emma was still bleeding, but she kept a hand clutched on the wound to try to stem the tide. Deirdre held her mace up, ready to bludgeon the mallasti should she unleash an arcane strike at Kari, but the demonhunter motioned for everyone to stay calm. “I’m not going to hurt you,” Kari said to the mallasti. “Let us help you; I need to ask you some questions.”

  “Stay back,” Emma gasped, her impassive demeanor replaced by panic. She was hurt badly, and Kari realized she was reacting almost like a trapped animal. “This one cannot allow herself to be captured. She does not wish to kill you, but she will if she must.”

  Eli swore loudly, and Kari whirled as she heard him slide across the mud. He’d been knocked away by the black werewolf, come back to make another attack on Turillia. Kari felt like she was moving in slow motion as she tried to get traction under her feet. The mud gave way and she slid to her knees, and Kari watched helplessly as the werewolf picked up the disabled succubus in one massive, clawed hand. “Don’t! She’s helpless; leave her be!” Kari yelled.

  The werewolf looked at Kari and snarled defiantly, and before the demonhunter could even get back to her feet, the beast tore out Turillia’s throat. “No! You stupid, stupid beast!” Kari yelled at the creature. She drew her scimitars and stood, a growl escaping her.

  The werewolf beheld Kari with bestial golden eyes and let out a savage growl of its own. Kari started to charge the creature, but she paused when lightning flashed: her attention was drawn to the three golden rings in the werewolf’s left ear. “Sharyn?” Kari asked simply.

  She received no response. The werewolf turned and ran to the wall, and then hopped onto and over it, out into the cold darkness.

  Chapter XXII – Frustration

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Eli said, rising to his feet. “I knew something was off about that girl, but I sure wasn’t expecting that.”

  “Damnit,” Kari spat. She kept her eyes on the wall where Sharyn had jumped over, and walked to Turillia’s body, which lay motionless in the rain and mud. Kari turned the succubus over, but it was immediately clear she was dead. Her head barely turned: most of her throat and neck had been torn away by the werewolf’s fangs. Kari lifted Turillia’s head, and her eyes were wide and glazed over, no spark of life in their beautiful, alien depths. Kari closed the succubus’ eyes and unlocked the manacles. She rose to her feet and said quietly to Eli, “Tend to Emma; see if you can sneak those manacles on her. Turillia won’t be needing them anymore.”

  “Where are you going?” Eli asked, but Kari didn’t answer. At that moment, she was nearly blinded by a single-minded desire to hunt Sharyn down and skin her. Kari was furious, her entire plan nearly ruined by the meddling of a werewolf, a creature that was lucky to not be a target of Kari’s work. All along, Kari was worried that it would be the succubus that infiltrated her circle of friends, but it turned out to be a werewolf that managed to do so. While Sharyn had helped them, killing Turillia when she was helpless and bound had robbed Kari of valuable information. At the very least, she would see to it that Sharyn knew what she’d done.

  It was dark out on the plains as Kari moved farther and farther from the torches at the stable square’s outer archway. Her eyes stayed sharp, and she was able to follow the fast-moving, black-furred form of Sharyn, though with the werewolf running on all fours, Kari lagged behind. Kari’s night vision was strong as a rir, but the enhancement bestowed upon her by the priest of Garra Ktarra was incredible. Out on the plains at night, with no star- or moonlight coming through the storm clouds, Kari wouldn’t have been much less blind than a human. With the priest’s blessing, though, she wondered if she was seeing as well as a brys: the landscape was shaded in greys
, but it was bright enough that she could easily see Sharyn speeding through the long grass. Sharyn was moving fast, and had the black fur to disappear into the night, but it mattered little with Kari’s enhanced vision.

  Kari wasn’t sure she’d even still be running if Zalkar’s power wasn’t flowing through her. She should have been exhausted after being shocked with a lightning bolt, engaging in a vicious, high-speed sword fight that left her with a split lower jaw, and then dealing with the after-effects of a constant adrenaline burn. Zalkar’s power seemed to have no such limit, and her strides were long and consistent as she sped across the grassy lands to the west of the city. The more she thought about it, the better she understood why Sharyn had been able to keep up with her so easily on their run from Temple Street to the cemetery two nights prior.

  It left Kari to wonder if Sharyn truly was a ranger, or if that was just a cover for her activities as a werewolf. While it was true that some werewolves and other lycanthropes served the Beast, Kari didn’t expect that meant they were necessarily friendly or welcome among the ranger networks of the Sandur Jungle or Ceritan Forest. Part of Kari was willing to give Sharyn the benefit of the doubt: she’d helped with the overall mission to stop Turillia. But that didn’t dispel Kari’s anger over the werewolf killing the succubus when Kari had her bound, a helpless prisoner. While Turillia wouldn’t likely have been talkative, Kari was sure the Order would have had ways of making her give them the information they needed regarding Emma and the Temple of Archons.

  All of that was wasted. Kari nearly stopped and turned back toward the city; Emma was now the only piece of the puzzle she still had access to. The demonhunter kept her head down and continued running. If anyone could convince Emma to come in willingly, or slip the manacles on her by sleight of hand, it was Eli. Emma would defend herself if Kari or Deirdre tried to capture her, and the mallasti had said so herself. Kari had a feeling Emma would be long gone when she returned to the city, and she had little doubt the mallasti would’ve found some way to escape even if Kari had stayed behind to apprehend her personally. Kari put her trust in Eli, but at the same time, she already knew not to hold him responsible if he failed.

  Kari focused her thoughts on Sharyn. The black werewolf sped toward a copse in the distance, one of the few pockets of trees between Barcon and the great forest to the west. With her enhanced night vision, Kari was able to see that there was firelight within the copse, and she slowed down a bit as she realized Sharyn was leading her right to the rest of the pack. Kari had no idea how many werewolves she might encounter there. She remembered there were eight at the cemetery, though one had been killed; that still left at least eight when she added Sharyn to their number. There was no telling how many others there might be.

  Kari slowed to a walk, but she continued on toward the copse undeterred. She wondered if the pack would attack her on sight, or at Sharyn’s direction. They’d had the opportunity to kill Kari in the cemetery, but it had been Sharyn who convinced them to leave Kari be and vacate the city. Sharyn had seemed to save Kari’s life, but now her gesture seemed less philanthropic, and more self-serving: she had kept Kari alive to get the succubus into the snare. The demonhunter had to wonder if that was a good thing or bad; she really didn’t know what to expect from the werewolves at this point, Sharyn least of all.

  Lightning flashed from the north, and a distant, rolling thunder followed several seconds after. The storm was moving away, and the rain began to let up as Kari made her final approach to the trees. She didn’t see anything moving within, but she’d seen Sharyn enter the copse. Just as her eyes had told her from a distance, there was a campfire burning at the center, though from the outer edge, it didn’t appear anyone was tending to it. The sound of the rain through the trees prevented Kari from hearing anything out of the ordinary, and so she paced side to side, looking for any sign of werewolves.

  After a minute, she supposed it was possible Sharyn had urged the pack to move farther west. If they were heading to the jungle, Kari had no intention of following them that far. She wanted to confront Sharyn, ask the woman why she’d killed Turillia when she was bound and helpless, and find out her intentions toward Sherman, but those were questions that were not worth any more risk than following Sharyn this far presented. To follow the werewolves as far as the southern jungle would put Kari’s life in far more danger than the answers were worth. As aggravated as Kari was that Sharyn had killed Turillia, the demonhunter was more concerned with the safety of her young paladin friend. Sherman had been kissing Sharyn when Kari found out about their relationship, and Kari suspected Sharyn may have potentially turned Sherman into a werewolf.

  Zalkar’s symbol was no longer glowing on her chest. Kari’s Blood Oath was fulfilled to the Unyielding’s satisfaction, but Kari realized that meant she hadn’t run here under Zalkar’s power. She wondered if she was still capable of calling upon that power after the Oath’s fulfillment, but she pushed the thoughts aside. The absence of a Blood Oath made confronting a pack of werewolves so much more dangerous, and Kari hesitated to approach the campfire. If there were eight or more werewolves and they meant her harm, there was virtually no chance of her returning home. She thought of Grakin and her son, but she also thought of her conversation with Devin, when he’d taught her to wield the Blood Oath and its power. For a moment, she felt trapped between her duty to her family and to the rest of the world.

  Kari sighed lightly through her nose, and set her feet on the slightly muddy path that led to the campfire. It was strange but not surprising to see sets of both human and wolf tracks in the mud, and Kari worked to keep her breathing steady, preparing to be pounced upon at any moment. She left her scimitars in their sheaths to try to give the impression to the beasts that she had come to talk, not fight. If they attacked her, she would defend herself, but with their size, strength, and numbers, she wasn’t sure it would make much difference.

  Then again, she thought, Turillia had claimed a hand from one and killed another when faced with more than one at a time.

  The thought of Turillia made Kari reach up to her wounded chin. The bleeding had stopped, but the cut was deep, and had nearly cloven her lower jaw completely. Even while she touched her wound, Kari was aware of movement among the trees. There were definitely a few werewolves skulking about, and the sound of the rain filtering down through the trees didn’t do enough to mask their movements. Kari’s ears twitched as she tried to hear over the sounds of the distant thunder, the light pattering of rain upon leaves, and the gentle crackle of the campfire ahead, trying to stay abreast of any sound of a charging werewolf. That sound never came, though, and Kari reached the campfire, aware of the presence of werewolves but satisfied that they were not moving to attack – yet.

  Kari glanced around the small clearing in which the campfire sat, and she squatted down briefly, drew one of her scimitars, and stoked the fire. It was gaining more of a foothold on the stacked logs now that the rain was tapering off, but it would be some time before it was of any real use. Kari replaced her blade and then warmed and dried her hands as best she could in front of the fire. She glanced to her left when she heard a rustle of movement, and she saw the brief reflection of firelight in a pair of golden eyes before the beast slid back out of sight. It dawned on Kari that the werewolves might be waiting for the signal from their pack-leader to attack.

  Sharyn approached from the darkness amongst the trees on the opposite side of the fire from Kari, and the demonhunter met the dark-eyed gaze of the ranger evenly. Sharyn was still half-naked, and she stepped into her leather trousers and came into the circle of firelight. It seemed she had shed her clothes when she took on her bestial form in Barcon, and one of her companions had recovered her things and brought them to this meeting place. What truly caught Kari’s eye was a massive scar that ran from the woman’s left shoulder across to her right hip. It looked like a sword wound, and it had been brutal and very, very deep – deep enough to make Kari question how anyone could’ve survive
d such a blow. Soon Sharyn had her leather armor on again, and she stood across the fire from Kari, neither woman blinking.

  Kari was surprised that Sharyn looked angry. The demonhunter was fairly certain she was the only one that had a right to be angry in this situation. Kari’s hands dropped down to the hilts of her scimitars, about as subtle a warning as she was ever likely to give. Sharyn had all but completely ruined her plans, but even beyond that, there was something else that nagged at Kari. It went back to what Turillia had said in the bell tower shortly before Sharyn attacked. Kari was fairly certain she had been betrayed by someone close to her; considering the fact that Sharyn had ruined her plans, Kari’s gut told her the werewolf may have had ulterior motives the entire time.

  “Stupid beast?” Sharyn said at last, a challenge.

  “You deserved that,” Kari said. She turned to her left as a brown werewolf started to approach on all fours, and in the blink of an eye, the demonhunter had a scimitar in hand, pointed at the creature. “I’m here to talk. If you want to fight, I’m sure my Order will gladly add werewolves to its list of targets. Back off.”

  Sharyn made a gesture, and the werewolf moved over toward her, where it squatted down on its haunches and growled lightly. Even squatting, the creature was nearly as tall as Sharyn was standing straight. Sharyn patted the side of its head but kept her eyes locked on Kari’s own. “I’d think you owe me some gratitude,” the ranger woman said.

 

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