Sepia Blue- Nightmare: A Sepia Blue Novel- Book 3

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  Sunlight strained to get through the tinted windows of her room and bathed the room in a warm orange glow.

  “Ugh, my whole body is killing me,” Jas said. “Even my hair.”

  She felt the top of her head and found it smooth.

  “What the hell?”

  “What hair?” a nurse said with a smile. She was a short woman with a pleasant smile. The muscles in her arms flexed as she pushed her cart into the room. The ease with which she moved belied a hidden strength. Her cinnamon complexion contrasted with the gray uniform she wore. “Hello, I’m Emelia, and it was necessary.”

  No one moves like that unless they’re trained, thought Jas.

  “Wait, you shaved my head?” Jas asked, panicked. “Do you know how long it took to grow my hair out?”

  “Were you considering that when you jumped in front of rift flames?” Emelia asked softly. “You almost killed yourself.”

  “No, I wasn’t thinking,” Jas said. “Sepia was going to get flamed. I just reacted.”

  The nurse nodded. “She must be important to you, this Sepia.”

  “She’s important, but not just to me,” Jas said. “Am I going to stay like this—bald?”

  “We shaved off your hair for the inking,” Emelia said. “No hair on you anywhere. It’s part of the process.”

  “Who did the inking? Did they see me?”

  The nurse sobered. “When you came in here, you were closer to death than life,” she said. “We did what was necessary to save you.”

  “Will it grow back?” Jas asked as she stretched out her arms and touched the fuzz on her head. “The ink feels warm.”

  Emelia gave a soft chuckle. “It’s supposed to feel warm and yes, it will grow back eventually—all of it,” she said. “Now lie down and let the ink do its work.”

  Jas looked down and examined her arms, which were covered with intricate designs. She looked back under the covers and saw that similar designs covered her legs. Emelia moved to the other side of the room as she pushed the cart. Jas could see it took her some effort to move it across the floor.

  “You need help?” Jas asked. “That thing looks heavy.”

  “From you?” Emelia asked and smiled. “No, this thing just has bad wheels so it takes a little more to move it, that’s all.”

  “These look like the designs Sepia has,” she said as she extended her arms. “Are these Hunter designs?”

  “I don’t have the answer to that,” Emelia said. “But I think he does.”

  She motioned over her shoulder to the large man entering the room.

  The man sat across from Jas. His overalls barely contained his bulk. He was also covered in ink although his designs were different.

  “Hello, Hep,” Jas said as she craned her head to look at him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Gan asked me to check on you—make sure you were okay.”

  Jas narrowed her eyes at him.

  “You’re a horrible liar,” she said. “What’s the real reason?”

  Hep looked at the nurse and cleared his throat.

  “Could you give us a moment?” Jas asked her.

  Emelia looked at Hep. “Don’t exhaust her, she still has healing to do,” she said. “You have ten minutes.”

  Hep nodded and smiled tightly as the nurse left the room and closed the door behind her. Jas sat up slowly in her bed, careful not to let her back touch the railings.

  “Should you be doing that?” Hep asked. “The nurse said you aren’t healed completely.”

  “Actually I’ve been healed for a few days now, but Gan won’t let them release me,” Jas said. “They have me under ‘observation’ for some reason.”

  “It’s a good reason, since when they brought you here you were barbecued and almost dead,” Hep said as he examined her back. “I can’t believe how quickly the skin healed. This ink work is incredible.”

  “I know, right?” Jas said, looking at her arms. “I’m just warm most of the time. Hey, do you know who did my ink? Every time I ask, I get the runaround. No one seems to know who did it.”

  “I’ll tell you, but on one condition,” Hep said.

  “What?”

  “After I tell you, I want your word that you will remain put for a few days before you try and escape—deal?”

  Jas remained silent and looked away into the distance. Her eyes were unfocused for a few seconds and then she snapped back.

  “You’re being tracked, Hep,” she said quietly. “Why is someone following you?”

  “Shit,” he said under his breath. “Listen, the woman who did your ink is named Izumi. She’s an Inkmaster and is currently in hiding.”

  “Huh?” Jas asked. “Never heard of her. Wait, why is she hiding?”

  Hep held up his hand to stop her from speaking.

  “Her father is the one you need—his name is Fuma,” Hep said. “If you find her, you can find him.”

  “Why do I need to find him?”

  “We placed a ward mask on Sepia,” Hep said. “I thought it was to stop the change, but now I’m not so sure. You have to help her and he’s the only one who can bypass the wards and remove that mask now.”

  “Mask?” Jas asked. “What are you talking about? Where’s Sepia?”

  “I don’t know, but I can tell you she’s in trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “Keep this to yourself,” Hep said. “Don’t tell anyone.”

  “What about Gan?”

  A shadow crossed Hep’s face for a moment as he shook his head. “Especially not him,” he said. “Find Izumi. She will have more answers for you.”

  “Where? Where do I find her?”

  “Where do you think an Inkmaster would be if she didn’t want to be found?”

  “I don’t know,” Jas whispered. “So many places she could go…No, not there. She went to the park?”

  “Go to the Keep, ask there,” he said. “I need to go. Remember, act normal, wait a few days, and then go find her. I think Sepia is in real danger.”

  Hep stood and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be in touch. Take care of yourself.”

  He left the room silently. A few minutes later, two men dressed in black combat gear walked into her room. They stood to either side of the door, holding it open.

  “Can I help you?” Jas asked, irritated. “I don’t recall asking for a matched set of doorstops.”

  A third man walked into the room, wearing the same black combat gear. He was taller than the two at the door. His body, while thin, was wiry with muscle. He wore his dusty-blond hair short and his piercing blue eyes took in the room.

  “These seem like adequate accommodations,” he said, looking around. “I hear you nearly died protecting your friend—Sepia, is it? Those rift flames can be brutal.”

  “And you are?” Jas asked, her voice trembling slightly.

  “Please, don’t be afraid,” he said and gave her a predatory smile. He turned to the two men at the door. “We must have just missed him. Search the floor and find him.”

  The two men left the room as he grabbed a chair from the side of the bed, turned it around, and sat astride it with his arms resting on the back.

  “My name is Velos,” he said. “Before I speak to your friend, I need to ask you a few questions.”

  FOUR

  Cade looked through his sight and cursed when he realized he didn’t have a shot.

  “Red, this is no good, I have no shot—I repeat, no shot,” he said into his com.

  “Then get a damn shot, Cade,” hissed Red Jen into her com. “I’m a little busy at the moment.”

  Cade got up and ran across the roof. He jumped the gap, landing in a roll on the adjacent building. His salt-and-pepper hair blew in the evening wind as he set up to take a shot.

  “Getting too damn old for this shit,” he muttered as he looked down his scope. “Get clear or I might mistake you for the Unholy you’re dancing with.”

  Red Jen parried a slash fro
m the claws of the creature in front of her. It rolled to the side and lunged. She managed to get her sword up in time to deflect the attack as it tried to disembowel her. It resembled a large cat, if a cat were the size of a compact car. Its black coat glistened in the night as it hissed at her.

  “This thing,” —she grunted as she held the Unholy in place—“is not a T3, Cade. Would you mind getting off your ass and putting some rounds in it?”

  Her red leathers creaked from the effort of holding the Unholy in place.

  “On three,” Cade said. “One…two…now.”

  Jen dropped her sword, pulling the Unholy down with her. She ducked under another swipe and rolled back as a hole appeared in the center of the creature’s face. The hole expanded and propelled the Unholy back as an explosion filled the night. Dust filled the air as the Unholy disintegrated and was blown away.

  “Cade, what the hell is going on?” she asked. “That was easily a T4 or higher.”

  “How’s the blade?” Cade answered as he slung his rifle over his shoulder. “Any damage?”

  “None that I can see,” she answered. “That’s the fourth high-level Unholy this week. Something is going on with those wards.”

  “Yeah, usually the strong ones are the ones that can’t get out,” he said. “We need to bring this info to the brass.”

  “They’re going to say what they always say,” she said as she sheathed her sword and waited for him in the middle of the street. “‘You’re a Hunter. Do what you were trained to do or leave the Order.’”

  He climbed down the metallic stairs of the fire escape and leaped the last few feet to the street, landing with a grunt. He adjusted the strap of his rifle as he approached her.

  “I wasn’t thinking about the Order,” he said. “We need to see Gan.”

  “May not be a good idea,” she said. “Word is he has his hands full these days with your ex-partner.”

  “Sepia?”

  Jen nodded. “Heard she jumped ship on the Sisters and went rogue.”

  “No way,” he answered. “Sepia may be a lot of things, but she would never go rogue. It would be a death sentence.”

  “If you think he’ll listen, let’s go visit,” she said. “I don’t think it will help, but at least I can have Hep take a look at my sword.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” Cade asked, concerned.

  “Nothing,” she said quickly. “Let’s go see Gan. You can ask him about your rogue friend.”

  “Sepia would never go rogue,” Cade whispered to himself as they headed to Gray headquarters.

  FIVE

  “You’re asking me to go rogue?” Sepia asked. “Why not paint a bullseye on my back?”

  “It’s already there,” Calisto answered.

  “Where’s the obelisk?”

  “That will be next,” Calisto replied. “First we have to speak to someone about your mask.”

  They appeared in the middle of an immense courtyard. A circular table of white marble dominated the center of the space. Pools of clear water, deep enough to appear black, sat to either side of the table like large mirrors, their surfaces reflecting everything. Calisto approached the table, where swirls and designs covered the surface. She motioned for Sepia to remain where she was.

  “I won’t go rogue.”

  “Go rogue?” Calisto said. “You were rogue the moment you left the Sisters. I thought they conveyed that message clearly.”

  “Wake didn’t hesitate to throw a dagger at me, true,” Sepia said. “So now the Sisters will be after me.”

  “Wait here,” Calisto said. “Whatever you do, make sure you don’t get closer or touch the table.”

  “Those are wards,” Sepia said, pointing at the table, “at least some of them are…The others”—she squinted slightly—“I’ve never seen those markings before.”

  Calisto nodded. “They are all wards,” she said. “Most of them predate anything you’ve ever seen.”

  The wards crisscrossed and overlapped each other, covering the surface of the table. Around the table sat twenty-one high-backed chairs. Twenty of them were made out of a dark mahogany but the last chair was different. The wood was lighter and resembled pine. Farther out, forming a larger circle, sat squat rectangles of pink marble surrounding the courtyard itself. Each stone rectangle corresponded to one of the chairs. A smaller version of the Keep sat isolated in a separate pool in the distance.

  Calisto placed a hand on its surface, and waited. Around the edge of the table, a red band of wards materialized. She stepped back and rejoined Sepia.

  “What is this place?” Sepia asked as she looked around. “Are we still in the park?”

  “Yes and no. This space can only be accessed with a gatekeeper.”

  “A gatekeeper?” Sepia said. “Ursa?”

  Calisto nodded. “Among other things,” she said. “As for what this place is…I think it’s better if I show you.”

  The wards on the edge of the table flared. Moments later a narrow footbridge surfaced in the pool, connecting the small Keep to the courtyard.

  “This is the Hall of Twenty—a special Keep and, if I’m right, the person we need will be here,” Calisto said as she stepped onto the footbridge followed by Sepia.

  “I counted twenty-one chairs around that table in the courtyard,” Sepia said.

  “The last chair is never filled. It’s there to help us remember.”

  “Remember what?”

  “The folly of hubris, but that’s not your concern right now,” Calisto answered. “You have more pressing matters to worry about.”

  “Have the Sisters classified me as rogue?” Sepia asked.

  “Not yet,” Calisto answered. “They will say you are too dangerous—alive. The threat you represent will be used to hunt you down.”

  “Gan would never—”

  Calisto turned and faced Sepia. Her expression was hard, but her eyes were sad.

  “The Order, the Gray, the Sisters, and the Unholy will seek your death,” Calisto said. “Gan will find it difficult to disobey if Regional—if Rafael—gets involved. They will force his hand. He will be forced to choose between you and the Order.”

  “They can’t do that,” Sepia said. “Who’s Rafael?”

  “They can and will,” Calisto said. “Regional will want the artifact and will use every method at their disposal to retrieve it—even if it means your death. I’ll explain who he is later. We must do this first.”

  “Is this because they think I’m Unholy?” Sepia whispered. “Or is it because of my sword? I can’t face them all alone.”

  “That glowing eye of yours has never put anyone at ease,” Calisto replied. “I think your heritage is not the topic here but rather the potential of your sword joined with the keystone—an Unholy artifact.”

  “So it’s because I wield a dark sword,” Sepia said, suddenly angry. “Because I’m different. They gave me this sword and designated me a Hunter.”

  “Not just your sword, which at this point would be reason enough, but because it’s bonded—you bonded—with the artifact,” Calisto replied. “The last person who touched a keystone became an abomination—a Nightmare Lord.”

  “Chimera,” Sepia whispered. “And I have to face them all—without any kind of help. Well, that shouldn’t surprise me.”

  “I seem to remember a young girl stepping in front of rift flames…for you,” Calisto said. “You’re not alone, never forget that. Gan would never forsake you, and neither will I.”

  They crossed the footbridge and stood on the island that held the Hall. Calisto looked down at the wards that surrounded the small keep and placed her hand on the ground at the edge of the protective barrier. A shockwave rumbled under them, causing the wards to flare for a split second.

  “Only the bearers of the named blades can enter this hall. I can only enter so far before even I must stop,” Calisto said.

  “What do the wards around it mean?” Sepia asked. “There aren’t any Unholy here to stop.�
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  “They are a method to determine who is entering the Hall at any given time,” Calisto said. “But they also broadcast your location to any creature strong enough to read the surge of power.”

  “That sounds like bad design,” Sepia said. “Why give away my position?”

  “You tell me.”

  Sepia remained silent for a moment as she looked past the still pool reflecting the Hall. Then a thought surfaced.

  They can’t be serious. A deterrent?

  “No way,” Sepia said. “It’s intentional?”

  “Once you step past these wards it will alert the strongest of the Unholy that a named blade has left the Hall of Twenty. Most of them will stay away,” Calisto whispered. “Or face death.”

  “Most, not all, especially when they find out it’s me,” Sepia said. “I can think of a few who’ll come running.”

  They entered the Hall and stood in the center of a large foyer. An ornate rug covered most of the floor. A large marble staircase led up to a second level. Against the walls, small benches were spaced out every few feet and large wooden doors could be seen on either side of the staircase.

  “Even if the unbinding of your sword is successful, I’ve never encountered a bonded artifact. Unless you can mask your presence, they’ll be able to track you. The Unholy will be the first, starting with the Dreadwolves.”

  “Fang,” Sepia said, and Calisto nodded. “I don’t want to kill him.”

  “He isn’t going to give you a choice—none of them will. You must prepare,” Calisto answered. “Or, you could hide here in the Hall and wait for the change to overcome you.”

  “And then what?”

  “I’ll end it before the change is complete,” Calisto said, her voice hard. “Those are your options.”

  “I don’t do ‘wait and die’ well,” Sepia said. “I’ll take my chances.”

  “Very well,” Calisto said, and they crossed the threshold of wards. “She should be inside.”