Blood of the Lost: The Darkness Within Saga: Book 2

by JD Franx

  Niko spun towards the fourth assassin in time to see him or her vault over the balcony’s railing into the arena. The two guards who had been holding Alec Terraine on the arena floor earlier moved to intercept the killer. Both died seconds later, no match for the Broken Blade assassin. The armoured figure disappeared through the open door to the fighter pits. With the immediate threat gone, Kyro released the balcony door’s lock-bar, allowing the emperor’s real knights to enter.

  Niko crouched down to help the senator to his feet. “Shit,” she muttered, touching his neck. Looking up at Kyro she shook her head. “He’s dead. I’m sorry, Emperor. The fourth assassin must have gotten to him in the commotion.”

  Easing his bulk back into the throne, the emperor cursed as he held his face together with both hands. “May the blessed Fae guide him to Paradise,” he mumbled, his speech garbled from the ghastly wound. “We’re lucky, it could be all of us lying dead. Damn assassins. Why in the Nine Hells of Perdition would someone try to kill us? Who was the primary target? Kyro?”

  “There’s no reason to target Niko or myself that I’m aware of. My father assured me our plans travel well away from any factions who would do this. The contract has to be you, Emperor, or Senator Illius. He was the only one killed.”

  “Kyro?” Niko asked, as she bent over, looking closely at the senator’s neck. “We have a big problem.” Sliding her blade into the wound, she hooked the wooden blade and pried it free from the man’s body. “That’s a wooden blade!” she gasped.

  Kyro grabbed his throat absent-mindedly as he remembered his vision.

  “You’re right,” he said. “Wait, didn’t one of them drop their blade?” Niko joined him in a quick search, but they found no dagger and no further evidence from the Broken Blades’ Guild. “The one who fled through the arena must have taken their blades.”

  “No surprise there,” Niko huffed.

  “Well, that’s a comforting thought, isn’t it?” Emperor Mero asked. “I suppose it was only a matter of time before they decided getting rid of me would be the easiest way to set up a presence here in Ellorya. Captain?” he said turning to the tallest of his knights. “Triple the personal guard for myself and all our senators. And send for a healer to fix my damn face.” The tall man bowed and left the Gods Balcony as Emperor Mero stared across the table. “I thank you, Yorcali-younger. Your warning saved our lives. I can’t give you the five thousand gladiators, not for any price or information. If I did, my own people would be cheering these killers on. I will, however, give you one thousand men. Your choice, all blooded, and the ships to take them home with you. For a city the size of Dasal, a thousand men will guarantee your defences. Even Cethos only has a standing army of two thousand men. You owe me no gold—I’ll settle for the information you offered, if it is as valuable as you claim.”

  Kyro nodded, smiling at the sudden change of respect towards him. “Make it two thousand and we have a deal.”

  “If your information is as good as you claim, then perhaps fifteen hundred men, but no more. But you will be unable to choose any of the ludi’s champions.”

  “I accept, Emperor.” Sighing into his chair, he wondered if Mero really was the assassin’s target. “What a day,” he added. Shaking his head, he plunged his borrowed bloody dagger into the wine table. Niko frowned as she pulled the blade from the table and started cleaning it with a cloth.

  A young wizard with long blonde hair entered the balcony to examine the emperor’s face. Healing the wound with magic as much as possible, the wizard still had to stitch the bone-deep wound closed. Two knights carried the senator’s body from the balcony, leaving three battle-hardened knights for protection as the wizard worked.

  Gingerly prodding at his face, Emperor Mero winced. “And I thought healing magic was getting better.” Clearing his throat, he glared at Kyro. “It seems you owe me some information, Yorcali-younger. Tell me and you can hand pick your new gladiators.”

  “You mentioned that healing magic was getting better?” Kyro asked. The emperor nodded, but said nothing.

  “Not better,” the wizard mumbled.

  “Speak up,” Mero growled between clenched teeth as the wizard used a needle and thread layered in sparkling magic to stitch the emperor’s face.

  “Yes, Emperor,” the wizard replied. “Not better. Magic seems to be getting stronger. The same spells heal more efficiently, and there’s less strain on our connection to the earth power. If it keeps up, we’ll soon be able to heal cuts like this without permanent scarring by using just magic, instead of enchanted needles and thread. Maybe even heal internal bleeding or diseases.”

  “Are you sure?” Niko asked, shocked, as she watched the wizard’s stitching closely.

  Laughing, the wizard shook his head. “Probably not, but as a healer, I can hope. Can we all not?” He winked, a deft smile curling his lips replaced the laugh.

  “That... That makes sense. A lot actually,” Kyro muttered.

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “Absolutely, Emperor. The information we have to trade for your gladiators explains it. If the myths of old are to be taken as fact.”

  “How so?”

  “Rumours have been running rampant in the Blood Kingdoms that the Fae have returned. Magical healing is greatly heightened, as your wizard said, and Niko and I have personally spoken with two people who witnessed what sounded an awful lot like realm-jump magic. If you can find these Fae, your people—”

  “Will have a living embodiment of our gods.” Emperor Mero gently pushed the wizard from his side, the needle and enchanted thread dropped, hanging from the last stitch before sticking to the sweat beaded on his neck. “It would mean everything to my people. Citizens from all over Talohna would pilgrimage here to worship. It would—”

  “Make Ellorya the most powerful country in existence.” Kyro finished for him. “Is that information sufficient for our trade, Emperor?”

  “Yes, Yorcali-younger. More than sufficient, and so I will be fair. Two thousand gladiators.”

  CAULDRON’S TEETH, WILDLANDS

  The Sartaq feast lasted for an hour. Corleya, Lycori, and Alia suffered horribly as they tried their hardest not to watch the cannibalistic meal of Chano Kordanu. As the feast wrapped up, Vexa returned to the where the new slaves and Chief Karlag remained under guard. She carried a bowl and a tall glass made from horn that steamed lightly in the cool evening air; Lycori could smell the blood from the horn cup, it was Human and fresh. Kasna and two other priestesses followed Vexa, carrying several bowls as well.

  Vexa sat down cross-legged in front of Corleya and offered her a bowl of the gruel-like grain mush the tribes ate during their morning meal.

  “Eat. There is no meat within.” Corleya took the bowl, and Kasna handed out the bowls she carried to the others.

  Offering one to Chief Karlag and his scout, Kasna tried to give one to Damien, but he was still incoherent from the poison she had given him earlier in the day. Sitting the bowl of gruel aside, she pulled a short, but extremely thin bamboo tube and a glass vial from the pouch at her waist. Removing the ball of cotton from the razor sharp point, she dipped the bamboo needle in the vial and titled Damien’s head to the side. He offered no resistance as she eased the point into his neck behind the artery. Rolling the bamboo between her fingers for several seconds, she stopped and removed it from Damien’s neck. She put everything away as Corleya, Alia, and Lycori stared in horrid fascination. Kasna smiled at them and turned back to the pirate, slapping him hard on the cheek. He blinked quickly, as if something were burning his poached-egg eyeballs. Seconds later, he opened his eyes and looked around, once again somewhat coherent.

  “W... Where? W... What the h-hell is going on?” he asked as Kasna pushed the bowl of grain mush into his hands.

  Lycori shook her head. “Eat and be quiet Damien, or they’ll just put you back out.” He nodded. As if half-starved, he shovelled his food into his mouth.

  Vexa stared at her. “You are a blood-fee
der?” she asked.

  Lycori nodded. “Yes.”

  “You are ageing. You have not feed in weeks, a month...” Vexa reached for Lycori, making her flinch. “You suffer,” Vexa added, as her hand gently caressed Lycori’s cheek. “Silver?”

  “Yes.”

  “Closer,” Vexa said, motioning with her crooked, bony hand. She offered Lycori the steaming cup. “My priestesses give it willing. Drink.” Unable to control herself, Lycori snatched the cup and tipped it back, drinking the fresh blood as quickly as she could. Her stomach rebelled instantly. She swallowed repeatedly to avoid throwing it all back up. As her stomach settled and strength surged back into her body, Lycori breathed easy for a few seconds before her blood-flow and metabolism increased. Wrinkles and grey hair slowly receded, and the agony of burning silver in her blood returned. Sweat broke out on her brow and she grunted with the effort of controlling the pain.

  “Here,” Vexa said, sliding closer, until her knees touched Lycori’s. “Let me remove the toxin from your blood. It will hurt, but you can recover afterwards.”

  “I don’t think you want a full strength vampyr in your camp, do you?”

  Vexa scoffed. “We both know you are more than that, silver kills the vampyr, but not a vampire. Matters not. You will be watched and darted if needed. Instead, if you open your eyes and look around, you will see no desire to flee in the eyes of Sartaq slaves.” Lycori had already noticed the slaves had no desire at all to do anything other than what they were told, certainly not escape. More Sartaq spirit magic.

  “That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Lycori said.

  Vexa smiled. “We have given you food to your preference and offer to heal your suffering. The treatment you have received at the hands of the other tribes will not be repeated here. I promise you.”

  “All right,” Lycori said, knowing she had little choice. She was still not sure if Vexa would let her refuse anyway. “What do I do?”

  Vexa drew a long thin blade from within the folds of her clothes as two more priestesses joined them. “Sit cross-legged. Try not move,” she said, offering Lycori a crooked smile as she did what the witch doctor asked. “This will hurt.”

  As Kasna stood by and watched, the first priestess took one of Lycori’s arms and lay it on top of her own, from wrist to elbow. With long lengths of cured leather, the priestess wrapped their arms together repeatedly until secured. Once finished she sat cross-legged beside her and rested their bound arms on her knees. The second priestess immediately did the same and Vexa handed her blade to Kasna.

  “Points of power, Kasna,” Vexa said as a second blade appeared in her hands. The hooked, sacrificial knife made the hairs on Lycori’s neck stand on end.

  “Lycori?” Corleya asked, breaking her silence as concern overwhelmed common sense. Kasna quickly stepped past Lycori and slapped Corleya to the dirt. Alia jumped to her defence and caught a backhand from Kasna that spun her into the dirt beside Corleya.

  “Silence,” Vexa hissed, holding up the hooked dagger. The threat was clear. “Do not open your mouths after I begin, or you will beg for death.”

  “Do as they ask, Corleya,” Lycori said. “Both of you. If they wanted us dead, we would be already. Just sit and watch.”

  “Wise choice of words,” Vexa said, her smirk returning. “Kasna. Begin please.”

  Kasna eased between Vexa and the priestess tied to Lycori’s left. Grasping Lycori’s secured arm, she pushed the blade into her elbow. She felt the point hit the bone of her elbow joint as she ground her teeth together, but her fangs dropped, slicing her cheek and gums. Blood dripped from her mouth.

  Kasna never hesitated and spun the blade several times. The point dug into the bone before the priestess stopped and tilted the dagger to the left and right and then up and down, cutting a cross into Lycori’s arm without removing the point from the bone. The priestesses tied to Lycori held her still as she trembled from the pain. Kasna stepped to the other side and repeated the process to the top of Lycori’s right elbow.

  “Here, my dear,” Vexa said, offering her a smooth piece of wood. Lycori nodded as sweat dripped from her nose, and Vexa slid the wood between her teeth, making room for the six fangs that had dropped. Wiping the blood from Lycori’s chin, Vexa nodded. “Only seven more and we can begin.”

  The next ten minutes passed in a blur of agony as Lycori shook and bled. Kasna quickly moved to her knees after finishing at her right elbow, boring a hole and cutting a cross into each. As Kasna’s blade eased into Lycori’s throat, she struggled not to move, realizing the priestess was coring a hole through the nerve core in the front of her neck. With the fourth hole in her neck completed, Lycori understood for the first time how Kael must have felt wearing the Gyhurra Torque for so many months. With a hole cored into all four nerve centres, every tremble and twitch of her body was amplified by intense nerve pain shooting in every direction possible.

  “One more, dear.” Vexa smiled. Using the hooked dagger, she cut Lycori’s ragged shirt until it fell away exposing her chest. Kasna stepped over Vexa and sat gently in Lycori’s lap as the priestesses carefully made room. Kasna pushed the thin dagger into her breastbone, dead centre of Lycori’s chest. It stopped against the bone and one last time Kasna spun the dagger to embed the tip in bone and then cut the cross, withdrawing the blade as Lycori bled slowly from all nine wounds.

  “We are ready to begin. No one must speak from this moment. Do not even open your mouth,” Vexa said and turned to Lycori. “The real agony begins now blood-feeder, prepare yourself.” Taking the hooked dagger, Vexa cut deep into the flesh on the back of her left wrist. Using her finger, she used her own blood to transcribe a strange script-lettered writing over the bleeding points of power across Lycori’s body.

  Closing her eyes, Vexa chanted. “K’Veoja Nattura Audoefi. K’Veoja Nattura Audoefi.” The ground shook and the torches placed earlier by the young teens fluttered crazily as a gust of wind blew through the Sartaq camp. Three ethereal spirits appeared behind Lycori and immediately jostled and fought each other. Several seconds passed before a single spirit broke from the confusion and rushed into Lycori’s mouth partially opened mouth, invading her body. Corleya and Alia gasped as Lycori went rigid and her head jerked back. Staring up into the sky, her eyes clouded and the spirit took full control of her mind and body.

  “What the...” Damien muttered.

  One of the two remaining spirits rushed into his mouth, and Vexa quickly barked, “Flytja Foss.” The remaining spirit vanished as her banishment spell completed. Vexa pointed as the spirit inside Damien forced him to his feet as it tried to run. Several hunters darted it with sleep arrows and Damien’s body crashed back to the dirt unconscious. Corleya instinctively pressed her hand to her mouth as Alia closed her own and bit her lower lip.

  The spirit possessing Lycori dropped its head and glanced around for a single second before it tried to run as well, but tied to the priestesses and with their knees locked under Lycori’s, it could not even unlock her crossed legs. The priestesses held the spirit firm and it quickly stopped struggling.

  “Free us, witch,” the spirit demanded. Its voice sounded nothing like Lycori’s. It had a deep rasp, heavy with strange reverberations.

  Vexa nodded. “I will do you this favour. If you help me first.”

  “One granted, one received. It is the way of the spirit world. Ask your boon.”

  “The body you possess,” Vexa said, cocking her head. “Force the metal inside her out through the points of power marked on her body. And I will free you from your captivity.”

  “Agreed. Give me the words.”

  Vexa nodded. “Foss silrf Innan.”

  Lycori’s body remained rigid, and every muscle in every limb stretched to the breaking point as the spirit forced the silver running through her blood and organs to come together. Blood veins stretched and bulged as the spirit rushed to expel the burning metal. A crazy silver road map emerged under Lycori’s flesh, just like the moment
she’d been stabbed by Arabella months before, only this time the liquid silver had somewhere to go. It wept from the holes at her elbows and knees and dripped from the wounds in her neck. More silver trickled down her stomach from the point of power over her breastbone. The priestesses wiped the silver with soft cloths as it burned into Lycori’s flesh after exiting her body.

  The spirit grinned, turning Lycori’s mouth into a twisted mockery of her true smile. “It is done. Your turn. Free me.”

  “As you wish, spirit.” Vexa closed her eyes, casting the spell to excise the spirit from Lycori’s body. “Flytja Nattura.” The spirit’s ghostly essence spilled from Lycori’s mouth, forming into a humanoid shape between them as Lycori slumped forward.

  Vexa was not finished. Her right hand shot out. “Halda!” The single word spell immobilized the spirit as if held by magical strings attached to Vexa’s hand. More words quickly followed the first. “Husl Svala.” Vexa jerked her right hand back to her shoulder and the spirit hit her body, disappearing into her.

  The spirit struggled to take over Vexa’s body, but weak from the massive amount of energy required to clear the silver from Lycori, it quickly lost its fight.

  Vexa smiled as she wiped the blood dripping from her nose and eyes. “Lock them up. It’s time to wake the vile goddess.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “This man we hunt—I have seen the world he comes from. Alchemy is a powerful force in Talohna, but in the dimension called Earth, men mastered the art of mixing chemicals long ago. Taking into account that magic and alchemy from other dimensions feeds off the energy of this world, then Eamon O’Leary will some day be capable of destroying Talohna. Some day soon.”