The Veil: Corruption (HASEA CHRONICLES BOOK 2)

by Stuart Meczes

  I sensed a threat and dived forward into a roll. The hammer smashed down right into the spot where the man had been, spraying up tiles and the concrete below. The Bloodling screamed in fury as he heaved the hammer back up. I took the narrow opportunity to jump to my feet and sprint over towards the piano. I dived onto the stage, but my mangled fingers fumbled the grab for the dagger, and I tumbled into the curtain at the back. I scrambled free and saw that the leader was bowling towards me. Thinking quickly, I used the only weapon I had available.

  Jumping up into the air, I flung myself backwards and drove both feet into the piano. The keys made a hideous mashed sound straight out of a horror film as it raced across the stage and slammed into the Bloodling. He gave a surprised grunt and stumbled off the stage, decimating another table. The piano ricocheted back towards me, one leg buckled and several keys strewn over the stage like broken teeth.

  I barely had time to catch my breath before the Bloodling was on me again. He bought the hammer down with every ounce of strength he had – which was a lot. At the same time, I heaved the piano up. It took the brunt of the blow, shattering in dozens of places as the hammer tore a hole through it and hit the stage with a thud. There were loud pings as wires snapped and spears of broken wood stuck up at all angles.

  Oak wood.

  I looked up and gave the Vampire a taunting smile. As I hoped, he lunged for me, and I made my move. As the hammer came down once again, I rolled to the right side of the piano and drove my shoulder upwards into the broken lid. It wrenched open and connected with something soft. Exhausted, I collapsed backwards onto the stage and stared.

  The commander appeared frozen in time. The war hammer was still raised in the air, his hands wrapped around the base. The lid was up, and about ten pieces of oak wood had pierced the cloth of his SOS robe. One long section had driven through the soft part of his chin all the way up into the top of his skull. Dark blood seeped out of the wound, pooling on the white keys of the piano. I looked away as he was engulfed in flames, knowing that soon there would be nothing but ash. A second later I heard the hammer crash down onto the stage.

  “Enough!” someone screamed.

  I darted my head around to see the blonde Pixie with a gun pressed against the forehead of a waitress. The Luminar had a handful of the woman’s blonde hair twisted in her fist and had dragged her up onto a large table. The waitress was openly weeping, and blue streaks of mascara ran down her face.

  “I have had enough!” she screeched. “If one more of you goddamned Guardians attacks us, I am going to put a bullet right through this bitch’s skull. I’m not kidding!” To emphasise her point, she pressed the muzzle deeper into the woman’s forehead, making the skin around it turn white.

  “Do it and you’re dead,” hissed Grey, but he stepped away from the Skinshifter he was fighting nonetheless.

  “I don’t care!” she screamed. “I am so sick of the Alliance. You righteous sons of bitches. I hate you!” Her voice was so high it was almost subsonic. She was spitting as she spoke. I had never seen so much hatred and venom in one person’s voice. Whatever the SOS leaders were preaching these days; it was having a profound effect.

  She will kill that woman, no question.

  “Take off your belts and all your weapons,” she ordered.

  I had to buy for time.

  “Guardians, do as she asks,” I wheezed. An echo of clicks filled the strained silence. They all dropped their Kapre belts and weapons. There were a few gasps from the petrified humans as they saw them all for the first time, and then silence.

  The Pixie let out a triumphant laugh. “How stupid can you be?” she cackled. As she glared down at the woman, I saw bloodlust in her eyes.

  “Don’t!”

  The Pixie didn’t have time to pull the trigger. I watched in stunned awe as her gun was ripped from her hand. Then she shrieked as her arm wrenched into an unnatural angle. Bone snapped through the pale flesh below the elbow. She grunted and jerked as if being stuck multiple times. And then finally, her head snapped violently to the side and the room filled with the sharp crack of her neck breaking. She spiralled off the table and onto the floor. The area behind the dead Pixie shimmered. The form altered and became Aran. She used the gun to dispatch a nearby Incubus before anyone had time to react.

  “It would be prudent to resume combat now,” she said in a flat tone.

  I blinked and then took her advice.

  *

  Soon afterwards, the rest of the SOS surrendered. Barton, Grey, Aran, and I gathered the survivors into a huddle, where they waited on knees, heads bowed, trying not to show their fear. Grey had a gun aimed at an Incubus. He looked at me and cleared his throat. “You said only leave a few alive right?”

  I had my Blood Brother pressed against the throat of an Elf. She was openly weeping. I could feel the hatred coursing through my body. I was furious that we had lost four innocents. Plus everything that was happening with Alex. Playing living piñata to the Bloodling Commander had pushed me over the edge. I grit my teeth together.

  “Huntmaster?” he insisted.

  “Arrest them,” I blurted. “They surrendered. We’re Guardians, not murderers. They can take their chances in Pandemonia.”

  Grey flexed his hand against the gun. Then he nodded and together with Aran and Barton, started to secure the Rogues with apatrope binds.

  I checked my hand. The booster had started its work. I’d set my dislocated fingers back into place and the swelling was already going down. I could breathe again normally. Double clicking the coms bracelet, I contacted Crow’s Nest and organised a logistics team for clean up. Signing off, I turned and faced the quaking humans, addressing them in my charm voice.

  “Everyone, I want you to give me your complete attention. I know you’re scared, and you have every right to be. But I promise you that you are completely safe now. We are here to protect you. More of us will be along shortly to help you recover and to answer any questions you might have.”

  The last part was a lie. Each person was going to have their memory of the experience erased and replaced with much nicer memories. But it would take a lot more charm power than I could achieve by myself to do that to every single person. Unless I had Alex here... I shook the thought free and carried on speaking. It was working; I could see them all becoming calm. I smiled despite the situation. At least they wouldn’t suffer any more. “After this, you will be safely transported to wherever you—”

  A horrific scream stopped me short. Fear seized me and the sense of calm was shattered.

  The scream had come from the bathroom.

  I sprinted up the stairs and barged through the door. I had to climb over the broken body of the Imp. The floor was soaking wet, and I needed to hold onto the walls to keep myself upright. Delagio was unconscious, his head laying in the shattered remnants of a sink. Water was spraying from an exposed faucet. Scarlett was crumpled in the corner, near the furthest cubicle. She was making agonised wailing sounds. As I stepped closer, a sick feeling rose in my chest. My heart thundered in my chest.

  There were smears of blood on the cubicle door.

  Ash had mixed with water to make a light grey swirl, like muddy sand. A stake round lay in the middle of it, charred at the side where it had been fired. I swallowed and looked up.

  And stifled a scream.

  Mikey was slumped on the toilet seat. His head was pressed against the cubicle wall and his arm hung limply at his side, hand still clutching the gun. He was soaked with blood. And he was pale...so pale.

  No. No. No. This can’t be happening. I couldn’t think. The walls were closing in on me. This couldn’t be real.

  “Is he...dead?” I managed to croak after what seemed like an eternity.

  Scarlett said nothing for the longest moment. Then she let out a sobbed breath and answered.

  “Worse. He’s been bitten.”

  9

  Alex

  For over an hour, Sage Faru and I clambered our way throu
gh the dense jungle. The air was stifling and carried a humidity so dense it felt like a damp cloth had been wrapped around my lungs. A rudimentary path had been cut through the foliage, and we passed several bushes that’d had their leaves sliced clean in half. Whatever had come through had access to some sharp blades – or claws. I couldn’t tell if it had been the Guardians, or something else. The thought set me on edge.

  Sage Faru led the way, stopping to recover occasionally. His movements were sluggish, and he looked tired. I figured he must have quite a few of the Golems active in his absence. He used a percentage of his own life force to power the clay guards, and each creation left him more and more frail.

  We pressed forward; I listened to the strange clicks and whistles of immeasurable numbers of wild creatures hidden just out of sight. Then I saw something flash past a tree.

  Something green.

  I jerked to a halt at the same time Sage Faru did.

  “Alexander, I believe we have company,” he said.

  Instinctively I reached behind my back to unsheathe the Crimson Twin. Except it wasn’t there. It was in my bag on the Jeep, which was probably pulling up to Torre. About ten miles away.

  Damn it!

  Regardless, I moved in front of my leader and ushered him back gently with my arm. “Stay behind me, sir.”

  The flash of green darted past again, to my one o’ clock. I whirled around to face it.

  Nothing.

  Another to my left.

  Dead ahead.

  Three o’clock.

  Behind.

  I spun in dizzying circles, but never saw anything substantial. The unknown creatures were always one step ahead. A blur of green too fast to see for more than a split second. The creepiest thing of all was that they made no sound at all. No rustle of leaves or snap of twigs. They were deadly silent. I felt my heartbeat speed up. I pulled the flute from my pocket and clutched it tightly in my fist. It felt so insubstantial. I prayed that it was enough to get us through.

  The leaves directly ahead and above began to part, as if invisible hands were pulling them away from one another. They exposed a creature perched on top a thick tree branch, clawed hand outstretched. I knew then what we were dealing with.

  A Satyr.

  Standing, the Fera would have easily reached over seven foot. It hunched down on cloven hooves, with a lower half covered in dense fur that resembled moss. Its torso and arms were smooth and home to twisting knots of sinewy muscle – but still as green as a spring leaf. It had a long goat-like head coated with the same moss-like fur. Four pale green horns protruded from its skull – two at the top and a smaller set below the elongated chin, angled like scythes. A ragged loincloth was looped around its waist, which secured an array of rudimentary weapons. Around his neck and wrists he wore a number of precious stones, bound together by worn vines. He was clearly important.

  Verdes. Greens. This is what the guards meant…it’s a nickname. I’d heard about Satyrs a few times, but never seen one face to face. Barely anyone had. They were elusive. Rare.

  Dangerous.

  He stared at us with unblinking white eyes that rivalled Sage Faru’s in their brilliance. He bared his teeth, which were the colour of brick dust, and made a deep clicking noise with his tongue. More Satyrs appeared from all directions – up in the trees, perched on rocks, or at ground level – until we were surrounded by a tight circle of the deadly creatures. I noticed that they were all different sizes. Some could barely have been adults and were about my height with only a fine layer of green fuzz for a pelt. Others were old: a blend of whiskers, greying fur, and dull skin. Most had patterns of black bumps around their eyes and down their fingers, which I could only assume were some kind of tribal markings.

  The one ahead of us was clearly the chief. He pulled a blade from the worn material at his waist. The act was copied with eerie symmetry by the rest of the tribe. I tensed, squeezing my hands into knuckles. I was doubtful this was a fight we could win, especially with Sage Faru in his current state. The Satyr leader stared at us in turn, sizing us up. His lips curled back into a snarl, and I could tell we were seconds away from an attack.

  “Wait,” bellowed Faru, his voice taking on the megaphone effect that only he could produce. Its power took the Satyrs by surprise. The chief flinched, almost imperceptibly.

  “Let me see if I can connect with him.” The Sage stepped forward and bowed his head whilst slowly stretching his hands towards the Satyr. There was silence for a few seconds. Then the chief shuddered. Unspoken words floated into my brain.

  We come in peace. The boy has been summoned by Lafelei the Elemental.

  The creature’s bared teeth faltered. It dropped down from the twisted tree trunk and padded towards us, muzzle raised in the air. I was stunned when a purring, throaty voice entered my mind.

  Do you bring proof?

  Faru swept a hand towards me. I knew what he wanted. Gingerly, so not to create alarm, I unclenched my fist and held out the flute in front of me. The Satyr stepped towards me until he was so close I could smell the earthy scent of his fur. He sniffed my hand. Then he drew backwards and snorted.

  Yes. This is proof.

  He made a barking sound and the other Satyrs sheathed their weapons. I breathed a silent sigh of relief.

  Name Tiran. Follow me. Lead you to entrance.

  Thank you, Tiran, Faru answered silently.

  We left the others, who instantaneously slipped into the undergrowth without a sound.

  The going was difficult. It would have been borderline impossible if attempted by a regular human. We had to vault over collapsed trees with trunks so vast they were like hulking natural walls. Sticky vines seemed to grab at my legs and arms every step we took. At one point we had to take to the trees - hopping from branch to branch – because the dense jungle floor allowed no access. Tiran moved with the fluidity of water, never faltering for a second as he performed death-defying leaps without so much as a sound. He had to keep waiting for us to catch up, an expression remarkably close to a smirk on his face. As we moved, various insects of unnatural size darted past. A bloated hornet buzzed in my ear, and I flinched, thinking it was a Venenum.

  After an age, we reached our destination. Tiran jumped over a twist of bramble and flicked his head towards the area just in front. I followed his gaze. It was an odd sight. A wall of colossal trees stretched into the horizon in both directions. They reached as high up as the eye could see. Vines draped down from their hidden canopies. In the middle of the wall, the trees bowed outwards from their centres as if a giant ball had been bowled through. At the top of the mammoth entrance, the vines were cut short, making the opening look like a titan’s yawning mouth.

  As we neared, I noticed a worn wooden sign had been jabbed into the ground. Weeds had crawled their way up its surface, staining it green and rotting the wood. Curious, I cleared some of the weeds away and read the message. Only two words had been written on it, in fading red paint.

  Certe Morte.

  Certain Death.

  I felt a shiver roll down my spine. The simplicity of the signpost made it creepier than any of the others plastered back where we’d come from. By the time people read this, it’s already too late.

  Tiran slowed to a stop just short of the hulking mouth. He looked wary, almost as if he were fearful of it. He seemed to be waiting to say something, so Sage Faru closed his eyes and lowered his head once more. Tiran’s purring words entered my mind again. I not enter. You go alone now.

  Thank you for your help, Tiran.

  The Satyr gave a slow nod and let out an odd sound that was a mix of a snort and purr. I figured it was some kind of farewell. Then without disturbing even a blade of grass, he vaulted into the trees and disappeared from sight.

  We kept walking.

  *

  The atmosphere was so cloying it felt like I was breathing water. I could hear a concerning rattle in my chest with every lungful I took. My hair began to itch. I imagined miniscule inse
cts crawling their way across my scalp. A few trails of sweat wormed down my neck. I swiped them away.

  Visually, nothing appeared that different on this side of the trees except that the hidden canopy made everything darker. Still, the sunlight managed to find holes to poke through and shards of light littered the area like torch beams. Exposed dust motes swirled around inside of them. The buzz and clicks of a living, breathing ecosystem were ubiquitous.

  On the surface, it all appeared normal. But it wasn’t how it appeared that was the issue – it was how it felt. The influence of Pandemonia was here. No question. It was like the moment before passing through the spell barrier at the Sanctuary. You could feel that you were on the cusp of something that was alien to Earth. The source of a collective supernatural presence.

  This was like the Sanctuary times a thousand.

  My body tingled, every sense on automatic high alert. I almost jumped when Sage Faru spoke out loud. We had been essentially silent for the last hour.

  “We are very close Alexander, I can feel it.” He grabbed my arm with unexpected force. “Whatever you do, you must not lose sight of that flute. I believe it is the only way either of us will make it any further alive.”

  The expression on his face made it clear that he wasn’t exaggerating. Whatever presence I could feel, he could obviously feel it on a far larger scale. Guess it makes sense. After all, Pandemonia is his homeworld.

  We edged forward, my senses working overtime. I could hear the sounds of thousands of insects playing their pulsing music as if they had the world’s most sensitive microphones attached to them. Their racket deafened my ears. I had to try and calm myself down so that my aural senses could switch back to normal.