by N M Thorn
“You… you… son of a bitch!” yelled Novak, striking Gunz across his face.
Gunz fell back, wiped his bleeding lips with the back of his hand and laughed mirthlessly. “You shouldn’t be touching a Fire Salamander with your bare hands, dumbass.”
Shouting curses, George Novak moved closer, ready to kick him, but Mrak Delar stepped between them, holding Novak away from Gunz.
“You can make minced meet out of him when he returns with the Apple, Novak. He’s your slave after all,” he said coldly, slightly choking on the word slave. “But right now, I need him in good shape. Am I clear, Mr. Novak?”
Mrak Delar kneeled next to Gunz, quickly healing his split lips.
“Gunz, Gunz, Gunz,” he said with a sigh filled with mockery. “It doesn’t matter how much your father and I teach you. Everything we say seems to go into one ear and come out the other. I guess, you’re just not that smart, boy. If you were listening to us back in Kendral, you would know that there is no way the gray stones magic could keep a Fire Salamander under control. If Kal was here, he would be out of these restraints in a matter of a few minutes.”
“What do you mean, Master?” asked Gunz, his heart thundering against his chest. He searched Mrak Delar’s face and found nothing but mockery and loathing in the Ancient Master of Power’s expression.
Mrak Delar laughed. Cold and evil, he gawked down at him and shook his head. “I mean that you’re probably the worst Fire Salamander I’ve ever met.” He scratched the back of his head and laughed again. “Well, in all fairness, I met only two in my whole life – you and your father, The Great Salamander. You’re nothing compared to him, boy. It’s like one friend of yours – who you would do well to remember – said, you’re just a little Fire Gecko.”
“I got it,” said Gunz, narrowing his eyes at Mrak Delar. “I’m nothing and you’re the big bad. You got me. I’ll do what you want. But now I want to go and have that good night’s rest that you promised, Master Mrak Delar.”
Mrak Delar laughed and shook his head no. “Well, that’s not up to me, is it? You have an owner. Beg him, boy.”
Gunz didn’t say anything to George Novak. Instead he approached the circle of God’s snare. He knew that Aidan couldn’t hear him, so he just nodded at him silently, hoping that by now Aidan knew him well enough to understand – he would never leave him in this desperate state. Aidan raised his bloodshot eyes at Gunz and returned his nod.
Gunz turned to Novak, pinning him with his igneous gaze. “Alucard and I are leaving now. We both need to get some sleep and get ready for this mission of yours,” he said dryly and touched Yaroslav’s shoulder. “Let’s go, Alucard.”
As he headed toward the exit door, he was expecting for Novak to say something, punish him somehow for his disrespectful behavior. But it was Mrak Delar who stopped him.
“And Gunz, one more thing,” said the Master of Power and Gunz felt the fire energy spike around him. He backed away, knowing what was coming, until his back hit the door.
“Fire Salamander, down,” commanded Mrak Delar, twisting his hand. The invisible wall crushed Gunz down, forcing him to his knees. He collapsed, breathing hard. “Remember when we talked last time, I told you that when I would see you the next time, I was going to twist you into a pretzel for what you did to Kal.”
Mrak Delar turned his fist, applying more pressure. Gunz moaned, endeavoring to fight his control, but it was useless. He lowered his forehead to the floor, clasping his hands behind his head. Mrak Delar pushed him slightly with the tip of his boot.
“That’s right, boy,” he hissed, so much hatred in his voice that Gunz shuddered inwardly. “Now you know how it feels to be torn inside out and be unable to do anything to help the situation.”
Gunz gathered all his remaining strength and lifted his head to see Mrak’s face. “But I already knew it, Master. You didn’t have to control me for that,” he whispered, pain and silent fury making his voice tremble. “You tore my heart right out of my chest and stepped on it with your boot.”
Mrak Delar flinched, stepping away from him and dropped his control. Gunz laughed bitterly, getting up to his feet.
“When you see Kal the next time, Master,” he said quietly. “Tell him I am truly sorry. I was hurt and grieving, and I didn’t think how that was affecting people who cared about me. Tell him he is my Father and I love him.”
“Something tells me Kal is not going to be happy to see me any time soon,” whispered Mrak Delar barely audible. A pained expression crossed his face and swiftly disappeared. “You may leave now. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Chapter 15
~ Zane Burns, a.k.a. Gunz ~
Gunz hardly slept the rest of the night. He gave it a try, but sleep was eluding him, and he gave up after an hour of tossing and turning. When the door opened up early in the morning, he was sitting on his bed, his back resting against the wall. Yaroslav was sleeping but he woke up from the first noise, sensitive to his surroundings like all vampires.
George Novak strolled into the room, throwing two sets of clothes on the table. “Rise and shine, boys,” he announced, his eyes gleaming with an unnatural excitement. “Change. I can’t let you into the outside world in these outfits.”
“A little privacy,” grumbled Gunz, taking the jeans and shirt off the table.
“You’ll survive,” replied Novak, folding his arms over his chest. “I doubt you have anything I haven’t seen before.”
“As you wish,” replied Gunz.
He waved his hand, manifesting a curtain of cold fire to shield himself and Yaroslav from the observers and quickly changed. After the medical scrubs he wore between the events and his cargo pants designed for the cage fighting, normal jeans and a shirt felt almost uncomfortable.
Once they were done, he waved his hand extinguishing the fire. Gunz threw a look filled with defiance at Novak and noticed Mrak Delar behind him. The Master was standing by the door, leaning against the doorframe. For some reason, he didn’t look as harsh and cocky as yesterday. He looked almost ill which wasn’t possible since Masters of Power couldn’t catch viruses. Despite that, his face was drained of life. Dark circles surrounded his obsidian eyes and his pale lips were slightly opened like he had shortness of breath.
For a moment, Novak stared at Gunz with interest. Then he approached him and tugged on his collar. “Before I let the Master of Power transport you to the Land of Dreams, there is something I wanted to show you.”
At his words, Mrak Delar got alarmed. “Novak,” he said warningly, taking a step forward, “I thought we discussed it and agreed that—”
“Yes, Master Mrak Delar,” replied the Head of California House, raking the Master of Power with an arrogant stare, “we discussed it and I decided that he needs to know. His life belongs to me and I can do with him whatever the hell I want.”
“George, please, don’t do it,” said Mrak Delar softly, but iron notes rang in his voice. “Yes, you own him, but it’ll be a giant mistake.”
“Master, if you disagree with my actions, you’re free to leave any time you wish,” stated George Novak coldly and turned back to Gunz. “Like I said, I just wanted to show you something and hopefully, it’ll serve as extra motivation for you to complete this mission and bring the Apple to me as soon as possible.”
“Show? What and how?” asked Gunz coldly.
“Open your mind,” ordered Novak, placing his hand on Gunz’s forehead. “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to control your mind, I’m just trying to project a vision. I have psychic abilities. I need you to relax and stop fighting me.”
Gunz frowned and glanced at Mrak Delar. The Master of Power looked ashen, every muscle in his body tense, his eyes widened. He shook his head no at Gunz, his gaze almost pleading with him.
“Don’t look at anyone else when your master is talking to you,” ordered Novak, seizing Gunz’s chin and forcing him to look straight at him. “Look into my eyes and open your mind. You’re going nowhere until I show y
ou the vision and Alucard’s clock is already ticking.”
Gunz met Novak’s eyes and shivered as if the temperature in the room had dropped a few degrees. His bright blue eyes were glowing with the energy of his magic, but it was his pupils that made chills run down Gunz’s spine – they kept changing size, growing bigger and then contracting back into tiny black dots.
“That’s right, my son,” mumbled Novak, carefully letting go of Gunz’s chin and placing his hand on his forehead. “Now, stop fighting me and let the vision in… It’s not going to hurt you or control you…”
Gunz felt Novak’s magic gently probing his mind, tugging at that invisible barrier he always raised when he was in Novak’s presence. Gunz held his breath and dropped the barrier, allowing Novak in. As soon as he did, darkness surrounded him. He felt like he was falling, and his endless fall reminded him of the time when he was pushed through the gates of the Dark Nav. He screamed, fear assailing him, and fought against the man who was holding him.
“Relax, Gunz,” he heard a distant voice somewhere on the outskirts of his mind. “I swear I am not going to hurt you.”
He felt another pair of hands supporting his shoulders and a different voice sounded in his head – the voice of a man who had once called himself his friend. “Gunz, you must relax. You let him in, now you have to let him show you the vision. You can’t stop in the middle.”
Gunz took in a deep breath and forced his panicked mind to relax and let go. The darkness slowly dissipated, and he saw Mount Karasova from a bird’s-eye view, like he was flying high in the sky above it.
This place is cursed by pain, suffering and dark magic. Why did you bring me here, Novak? Stop, please! I don’t want—
He started to fall. In a fast and uncontrollable downward spiral, he plummeted down to the mountain. Gunz screamed, realizing that if he continued falling, his body would be smashed on the hard rocks of Karasova and shattered into millions of bleeding pieces, each fragment a separate pool of anguish. He felt someone hold his head upright and he fought against their grip.
“Relax, Gunz! It’s just a vision. You can’t get hurt in a psychic vision.” Novak’s voice sounded in his mind again.
Gunz squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the pain of the fall, but it didn’t happen. When he opened his eyes again, he was inside the cave of Mount Karasova, standing next to the sacrificial stone. The stone slowly shifted from its place and the ground opened up. Inside the deep grave he saw a large wooden coffin wrapped tightly with cold iron chains.
I don’t want to be here… I shouldn’t be here… “Get me out!” yelled Gunz, thrashing violently in Novak’s arms.
“Look. Into. The Coffin!” He heard Novak’s icy voice, pronouncing one word at a time. “I’m not getting you out until you do what I say!”
Gunz felt Novak’s fingers dig into his face, realizing that unless he did what Novak ordered him to do, it would never be over. Slowly he lowered his eyes and looked at the coffin. The lid of the coffin became transparent and he saw a young beautiful woman lying inside.
She looked like she was sleeping. Her eyes were closed, but her face was tense, a pained expression clouding the familiar features he loved so much. A large serpent was twisting its ugly, scaly body around her. Squeezing her and letting go again, it looked like the snake was feeding on her life energy.
All of a sudden, Angelique opened her eyes. They were a sickening yellow color with the dark red vertical pupils of a serpent. But it wasn’t the look of her eyes that stunned Gunz, sending him into an abyss of despair. It was the endless agony that reflected on her face and the haunted expression of her unnatural gaze. For a moment, she stared straight at him and then her mouth opened in a silent scream.
“Angie, no!” Gunz screamed, his whole world exploding around him, hurtling him into a heart-wrenching turmoil. The fresh scars on his soul, that he had been struggling to heal for almost a year, opened up, bleeding and aching. And everything around him became dark again.
“Gunz! Gunz, open your eyes!”
Someone was shaking him. Gunz moaned and cracked his eyelids open. His vision wasn’t clear, mental images of the harrowing vision overlapping reality, but he was able to recognize that he was back in his room, sitting on the floor. It was Yaroslav who was shaking him, trying to get his attention, and in his arms, he felt like a limp powerless mass without bones and muscles.
Novak was standing with arms crossed, staring down at him with a contemptuous smirk on his face, and for the first time since he was sold to the Head of California House, Gunz was afraid of him. Mrak Delar looked paler than a ghost. His black eyes widened as he braced himself against the wall with his arm, slightly leaning forward.
A moment later, Gunz freed himself from Yaroslav’s hands and huddled into a corner between the bed and the wall, wrapping his arms around his head. In his mind he could still see Angelique’s face contorted by unimaginable pain. He could still hear her silent plea for help. His body shuddered in uncontrollable agonizing sobs and he howled in despair.
“I told you!” roared Mrak Delar, slamming his hand on the wall and the floor of the room trembled as his power ran away from his control. “I warned you that if you show him this vision, you’ll devastate him so deeply that he’ll be useless to us! Look at him, Novak!”
Mrak Delar kneeled before Gunz and gently forced his arms down. Gunz raised his eyes at him, but he couldn’t see anything. Silent tears of pure liquid fire were slipping from his eyes.
“What is that?” whispered Novak, pointing at his flaming tears.
Mrak Delar glanced at him over his shoulder and shuddered. “That’s his tears, Novak. That’s the way the Fire Salamander cries when he’s deeply hurt.” He switched his attention back to Gunz. “Gunz, look at me, my friend. Listen to my voice. It’s me, Mrak. I’m here. Everything is going to be okay.”
Gunz slowly focused his vision on Mrak Delar’s face. He saw his dark eyes gazing at him with his usual sympathy and understanding. It was his friend. He was back. And for a moment Gunz forgot where he was.
“Mrak, why?” he whispered, his voice torturously hoarse. “What the hell was that? Was it real?”
“I don’t know,” replied Mrak Delar honestly. “It was just a vision and it’s over now. Can you stand up?”
Gunz nodded and slowly got up, supported by Mrak Delar. His eyes stopped on Novak’s face and abruptly, with agonizing clarity he remembered everything. His eyes darted back to Mrak Delar and he jerked his arm out of his hands.
“Stay away from me, you evil bastard,” he hissed, anger drying out his fiery tears and igniting furious flames on the bottom of his eyes.
“He’s ba-a-ack,” sung Mrak Delar, chuckling. He raised his arms up and retreated back to the exit door. Gunz sat down on his bed, rubbing his face with his hands and then looked up at Novak.
“Was it true?” he demanded quietly. “Why did you show this vision to me?”
“Yes, the vision was real,” replied Novak coldly, “and here is why I showed it to you. A slightly modified version of the same elixir that I’m going to create for myself, may allow me to separate the essence of your witch from the essence of the Skiper-Zmey.”
“What?” hissed Gunz. “If you’re messing with me, I swear I’m going to rip you apart with my bare hands!”
“Why would I mess with you,” replied Novak arrogantly. “Yes, I believe I can make an elixir like that, but besides the Apple, I would need one more ingredient. In the Thirtieth Kingdom, there is a sacred garden. In this garden, the Apples of Youth are growing. Under the Apple Tree, you’ll find a well. I need you to bring me some water from this well. It’s the Water of Life. You get me the Apple and the Water of Life and I’ll make the elixir that may free your witch.”
“May?” asked Gunz.
“In a situation like this, I can’t guarantee the outcome,” explained George Novak dryly. “However, I can promise that I’ll do everything I can to bring your lover back to life. Now, let me a
sk you, Gunz. What would you do to have this elixir in your hands? What would you do to embrace the woman you love again?”
Gunz dropped his head but didn’t say anything. Instead he turned to Mrak Delar who was still standing by the door. “Master Mrak Delar,” he said evenly, “I believe we are ready. Can you teleport Alucard and me to the Land of Dreams?”
Mrak Delar nodded, gesturing for him to come closer, but before Gunz made a move, George Novak stopped him.
“I have something for you,” he said. He pulled a small Swiss army knife out of his pants pocket and offered it to Gunz. “Your previous owner gave it to Mr. Park when they signed the sale contract. I believe he said this toy was your weapon of choice.”
Gunz took the knife from Novak and put it in the pocket of his jeans. It felt good to have his trusty sword back. “Did he give you my bag, by any chance?”
“No,” replied Novak. “This knife was the only thing he gave me.”
“Low-life bastard,” muttered Gunz, shaking his head. He didn’t care about anything in this bag except for the watch that was Angelique’s last gift and the fire bracelet.
Novak cackled. “Maybe he’s a low-life bastard. Maybe not. He actually liked you in his own perverted way. Nonetheless, I made him an offer that no one in his position would refuse. I offered him his life in exchange for yours.”
“Whatever,” said Gunz with an indifferent shrug. “I’ll deal with him right after I’m done with you.”
“Are you trying to scare me?” Novak laughed. “That’s cute.”
“Why would I do that? I’m just stating a fact.” Gunz smirked and turned to Yaroslav. “Alucard, ready to go?”
Yaroslav nodded but halted in front of Novak on his way out. “I will need my katana, master,” he said with a light bow. Novak gestured to the guard who was standing outside the room. Before the guard walked inside, Mrak Delar intercepted him, taking the sword and sheath from his hand. He handed everything to the vampire and put his hands on Gunz’s and Yaroslav’s shoulders.
