Unnerved by the unwavering gaze, the warrior relaxed his posture slightly. He was wound as tightly as a clock spring, aching for a fight, needing something to hit, but he instinctively knew he’d lose in a fight with the Mage. Plowing his hand through his hair, he backed off, putting distance between them. “What is it you think I can do?” he queried.
“You can become One with the Blood,” Jabali declared.
The right side of the warrior’s mouth lifted in a tired grin. “Is that all?” he asked.
“There is a man,” the Mage said, “who lives on an island off the coast of Chale. He can help you.”
“By doing what? Taking my life?”
“Changing your life,” Jabali corrected. “Cainer Cree is a Reaper.”
A deep frown formed on the warrior’s handsome face. “A Reaper. What is that?”
“A Reaper is a being who must partake of blood to thrive. During certain times of the year, he Transitions and when he does, he becomes part wolf.”
Evann-Sin arched an eyebrow. “A wolf?” he asked in a droll tone.
Jabali smiled. “Cainer was the second of his kind, having been changed by the treachery of a very vindictive woman long ago.”
“I gather she didn’t like him.”
“On the contrary, she was deeply in love with him. She was obsessed with him. By all accounts, he was the most handsome man to ever walk the face of his world. He was a warrior among warriors, a powerful leader.”
“How is it that I have never heard of this mighty warrior?”
The Mage spread his hands. “Because Cainer Cree is not of our world. He came from a world far from our own, from a time thousands of years in our future. He came from beyond the stars.”
Evann-Sin sighed. “Well, of course, he did.” When the Mage would have chastised him, he held up a hand. “So how do you know what happened in that time yet to come?”
Jabali sighed. “Much of it I learned from Cainer himself.”
“Did it occur to you he might be deranged or possibly lying?”
Shaking his head, Jabali sighed again, louder. “No, milord. Such a thought never crossed my mind and besides, he has several scholarly journals from that time and place though they are all but crumbling into dust now.”
“That’s convenient,” the warrior scoffed.
“Please put aside your flippancy, milord,” Jabali snapped. “If you want your lady back, it must be through Cainer Cree. I can not help you otherwise!”
Evann-Sin lowered his eyes. “I apologize, Master. Please go on.”
“Though it is our future from which he came, it was into the distant past for him. He journeyed through a portal he called a wormhole, striving to escape a woman intent upon killing him.”
“He ran from a woman,” Evann-Sin snorted. “And he did so crawling down a wormhole. How big is this warrior?”
Jabali waved a dismissive hand. “Stop thinking with your ego and listen to what I am trying to tell you!”
Evann-Sin looked hurt. “It was a legitimate question, Master. If he is small enough to…” He stopped. “How big was this wormhole?”
“Large enough that a fleet of ships could pass through side-by-side, he told me.”
Shock registered on the warrior’s face. “How big was the damned worm that made it?”
Sighing as though he were being sorely tested, the Mage covered his cheeks with his hands and shook his head.
“Never mind the worm, then. What of this woman? Am I to understand she was dangerous?”
“A very determined as well as dangerous woman. Her name was Zenia, the wife of a minor official in Cainer’s government. From the first moment she saw the warrior she was obsessed with him. Wherever Cainer went, she was there waiting. Whatever he did, she was there to watch. She sent him missive after missive, asking to meet with him. She surreptitiously acquired certain belongings of his. He could go nowhere that she did not follow, even to distant worlds beyond his own. When at last she found him alone one evening, she threw herself at him, but he wanted no part of what she had to offer. He was in love with another and fully intended to take that lady to wife as soon as his Tribunal sanctioned his courtship of her.”
“I bet that went over big with Zenia,” Evann-Sin chuckled.
“She thought she would eventually wear him down, but she underestimated both Cainer and his ability to ignore her. Despite using every trick such women have in their seductive repertoires, Cainer did not—would not—succumb to her advances. At the end of his rope, embarrassed by her persistency, tired of her constant attempts to seduce him, he threatened to have her arrested if she did not leave him alone. By all rights, he should have killed her—or had her slain—but such was not his way.”
“I can understand that. Although I entertained thoughts of killing the women who attacked me, I never would have.”
Jabali did not remind the warrior that in essence he had killed those women, for they had been among the Undead that had attacked the palace walls.
“What did this Zenia do when he threatened to imprison her?”
“There is an old saying that there is nothing more lethal than a woman scorned. Enraged, she looked for a devastating way to get back at him. She tried to hire an assassin, but not even the lowest scum would dare an attempt on the life of a man such as Cainer Cree. Such was his reputation that all men feared him.”
“He told you this?”
“Aye.”
“He’s rather full of himself, isn’t he?” Evann-Sin chuckled.
The Mage ignored the comment. “In desperation, Zenia decided if the deed were to be done, she would have to be the one to accomplish it. Knowing she could never take him in any conventional way, she began scouring medical tomes in search of a poison so potent, so devastating he would die in unbelievable agony. If she could not have him, she was determined no woman ever would, and as he lay writhing in anguish she would make sure he knew who had taken his life.”
“Nasty bitch.”
“A very determined one,” Jabali stated.
“Did she find such a poison?”
“She came across a text written by an obscure Healer that spoke of a plant that grew deep in the rainforests of Resuello, a remote region on another world. It stated that this plant, a fern called lycant, had growing upon its fronds a very deadly fungus. Upon this fungus were highly toxic spores. Inhalation of the spores caused hideous consequences to any creature that became infected with its virulent spores. The afflicted creature would convulse in torment, its bones cracking, its flesh turning to leathery consistency, its body splitting apart even as it breathed. So deadly, so dangerous was this fern, it was strongly advised that the fern be located and completely eradicated. A footnote stated that no action had been taken on the Healer’s recommendation for fear anyone sent to destroy it might become contaminated with its spores.”
“She somehow harvested some of the spores, though,” Evann-Sin said.
Jabali nodded. “Aye, that she did.”
Evann-Sin cocked his head to one side. “You said he is the second of his kind. Was she the first?”
Again, Jabali nodded. “Such was her crazed commitment to avenge his spurning of her, she journeyed to this place alone. Wearing what Cainer explained to me was a special suit of armor she thought would protect her from the spores, she ventured into the rainforest and gathered the fungus that grew on the underside of the plant. As she was scraping the fronds, some of the black spores escaped and began floating around her, sticking to her armor. She was shocked to look down and see the spores crawling about upon her armor, seemingly trying to find a way inside its protection. Terrified, she threw down the vial into which she had been scraping the spores and started to flee. But she slipped on the decaying foliage beneath her boots and lost her balance, falling into a sharp thorn bush. One of the thick thorns punctured the suit of armor to the right of her spine, near the base, and stuck into her flesh.”
“Oops,” Evann-Sin observed.
; “As you can imagine, the spores got inside the suit of armor and when she pulled free of the thorn found their way into her bleeding wound.”
“And contaminated her.”
“At first, nothing happened. She was both relieved and angered. Traveling back to her home world—I believe Cainer called it Ghaoithe—she began to feel poorly. Her body temperature soared and she reported she felt as though she were encased in a giant oven. Her back hurt terribly along the wound yet when she tried to lie down, she felt as though something was lodged against her spine. She could not get comfortable for the pain kept getting worse. Within an hour of her journey home, she realized there was something alive wiggling around inside her lower back.”
Evann-Sin winced. “The spores were growing?”
“Something was growing,” Jabali replied. “Soon, she could feel whatever it was shifting, bunching up along her spine then a horrible pain lanced through her back and she fell to the floor of her airship, screaming in agony.”
Evann-Sin noted the strange way the Mage labeled the woman’s ship but let it pass. He was more concerned with the implication of what Jabali had said. “What was inside her?” the warrior asked, his eyes wide.
“A minute parasite that lived on the spores of the lycant plant. Cainer later learned that once the parasite enters a host body, it punctures a small artery and travels through the bloodstream until it reaches the kidneys. It is there that it feeds on the blood until it is large enough to attach itself to the host’s kidney. What Zenia had felt in that terrible moment of pain was the parasite breaking free of the artery and biting into her kidney. As it grew, it produced offspring that formed a hive. Cainer likened it to a queen bee with her larvae. Once seated within the host’s body, it will remain for the entirety of the host’s lifespan.”
The warrior looked as though he might throw up. He shifted his shoulders, squirming against the image the Mage’s words conjured. “There was no way for her to rid herself of it?”
“Not once the parasite is firmly attached to the kidney. To kill the parasite is to seriously wound—if not destroy—the host. If I understood Cainer correctly, though, the chances of eliminating the entire nest are virtually impossible.”
“That’s a reassuring thought.” Evann-Sin shuddered. “She changed to the wolf thing.”
Jabali nodded. “Her skin expanded and her bones lengthened, fur sprouted all over her body, her face elongated into the snout of a wolf-creature.” He held up his hands. “Her hands and feet changed into those of a beast with thick, black leathery skin. All this was accompanied by cracking, popping sounds that made her think she was about to burst apart. She snarled like a beast and salivated like one as she changed, arching her back and writhing on the floor. She found she could not speak—only growls came from behind her sharp fangs. When it was all over, the Transition complete, she stood hunkered there on all fours, amazed that she was still living. Padding over to a mirror, she rose up on her hind legs and looked into the glass, startled to see a pelt of thick white fur covering her from head to toe.”
“That had to have been a horrible sight.”
“Cainer said she told him she was elated to see what she had become. She grinned at herself in the mirror, threw her head back and howled! She thought she had found the way to slay Cainer and any others who might anger her. Somehow—inside that animalistic brain—she knew she would change back.”
“Her main thought was still one of getting even with him.”
“Aye and when the blood lust, the hunger overtook her, she thrilled to think of herself sinking her fangs into his throat, ripping him apart and draining him dry.”
“Obviously that didn’t happen.”
“Not in the way she planned, no.” Jabali noticed the warrior frowning. “What concerns you, milord?”
“If Zenia was the first of her kind…”
“The first human of her kind,” Jabali corrected.
“All right, I understand that, but who discovered that evil in the first place and how did he know what it would do?”
“One day a healer was walking with his beloved pet dog in the rainforest at Reseullo. The dog was sniffing around the plant and apparently inhaled some of the spores. Once inside the animal, the spores migrated rapidly to its bloodstream and before the night was over, that once gentle, very tame dog had changed into a ravaging beast. It attacked a littermate and tore it to shreds, lapping up the blood like milk. The Healer—fearing for the safety of his wife and children—shot the animal with something Cainer called a laser weapon, yet the animal still lived.”
Evann-Sin blinked. “The Healer must have been a fairly bad shot.”
“The Healer shot the animal seven times at close range but he could not kill the beast. Each time, the wound would heal within a matter of moments. Stunned, the Healer finally doused the animal with fuel of some sort and set it afire. That did the trick but as the animal smoldered, something crawled out of its body and lay there slithering on the floor.”
“The parasite.”
“The parasite,” Jabali concurred. “Now the Healer was a very intelligent man and knew there had to be a correlation between the spores his pet had inhaled and what had caused the transformation. He poured more oil on the writhing thing and burned it to a crisp. Later, he entered information about the plant in his journal, warning others not to go near it for if it did that to a dog, what might it do to a human?”
“I take it Zenia did not understand the warning.”
“Or paid no heed to it in her desire to have revenge on Cainer Cree.”
“Not only a vindictive woman but a stupid one.”
“By the time she docked her airship at Ghaoithe, she was nearly insane with bloodlust. She realized that she would need to consume blood in order to feed the thing inside her for it was draining her own at an enormous rate. She was weak and her body aching for the taste of what Cainer referred to as Sustenance.”
“A delightful thought,” Evann-Sin observed, his face wrinkled with distaste.
“Once on shore, she stalked her first kill and devoured the hapless one, literally tearing the body apart in her frenzy. She found she liked the powers she now possessed—strength beyond anything she could have ever imagined and an ability to intercept the thoughts of others. She then set out to capture Cainer Cree and make him pay for spurning her.”
“He must have got wind of her plans then if he ran from her.”
“Aye, well, she sent word to him that she was coming after him. At first, he laughed it off, but when the mutilated remains of her victims began appearing on his very doorstep, he stopped laughing. She left mangled bodies in her wake. He would have gone after her but learned she was stalking the woman Cainer intended for his own. Knowing he had to do something, he took his own airship and fled, knowing she would follow.”
“I’m beginning to like this man,” Evann-Sin stated.
“He led her far out into the heavens for he wanted her well away from anyone she could harm. But a violent storm came up, and he was blown off course and into the strangeness he called the wormhole.”
“And she was right behind him.”
Jabali nodded. “This wormhole he likened to a mighty vortex that swallowed his ship and sucked hers in as well. It spat him out not only in the distant past but also in an entirely different heaven.”
Evann-Sin sighed deeply. “Much of this is beyond my understanding, Master. It would be best if you just told me what happened next.”
“His airship was fast running out of fuel, and he knew he would never be able to return home. Ahead, he saw another world and it was to this strange place he aimed his craft for he had resigned himself to die, but he had also made a sacred vow that he would take Zenia with him.”
The warrior was fascinated with the tale and though he was numb inside from the loss of his lady, he had to know the rest of it. He unconsciously moved to a chair and slowly sat down.
Jabali cleared his throat and finished the tale.
Evann-Sin closed his eyes briefly. “I can well understand how he felt.”
“As soon as she left her ship he fired upon her, cold, murderous intent guiding his aim, but he knew nothing of Zenia’s new abilities. She did not go down under the assault though it staggered her. Several more times—as she calmly walked toward him, a vengeful smile on her face—he tried to put her down but it was not to be. He emptied his weapon yet still she came on.”
“That had to have amazed him.”
“He thought he was dealing with a demoness and—truth be told—he was. Zenia was evil incarnate. He realized he could no longer take his own life, and had no desire to allow her to put her hands upon him so he ran. She began stalking him across the green hills and valleys of Chale.
“Long into the night she toyed with him, easily keeping pace with him for her strength was much greater than his own. When at last he was winded, tired, heartsick, he came to an ancient ruin and standing at the door to that ruin was an old woman so ancient, her flesh so thin, he imagined he could see through her. She was holding up a lantern and beckoning him inside the ruin.”
“She was one of the Chalean holy women?” Evann-Sin asked breathlessly.
“The most Holy of their Holies,” Jabali responded.
“Who?” the warrior whispered.
“Morrigunia,” Jabali told him. “The Goddess of War, Life and Death.”
Evann-Sin drew in a breath. “I have heard of her!” he exclaimed. “She comes to a warrior when his life is in danger.”
“Aye,” the Mage agreed. “It is said she appears to a hero on the day he is to die. The old crone image is only one of her personas. She has many forms and can change her shape at will. Most often, she comes in the form of a raven. Legend has it that in the form of that crow she will perch on a battlefield and watch men destroying men, saving those she deems worthy.”
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