All Things Impossible: Heartstealer, page 28
Then again, she hadn't been alone in Darkreign.
She stopped and leaned against a frieze. After she found her breath again, she looked up at the picture. It portrayed a victim having his stomach removed by a masked man, and then being forced to eat it. She felt the vomit creeping up from her stomach.
Alone. She felt absolutely enormous at the same time she felt insignificantly tiny. She failed to describe it any other way. Did Tom feel this all the time?
In the empty space, her acute breathing cut through the air like a saw. She glanced down at her sword and surprised herself to see a few specks of blood on it. But, the blade had missed him entirely. Her eyes dragged upward to her arm. Oh, it was her own.
The only sound was her uneven breath and the pounding of her heart. She tore off the other sleeve of her shirt to tie up her sword arm. Mentally, she cursed. Closing her eyes, she pushed her back against the wall. A moment's rest, she told herself.
She needed to find her friends? Alright, how? Where were they? She had to avoid Tom, and didn't even know what condition he was in. Therefore, she told herself, assume the worst.
What if Tom found her friends first?
She sagged against the wall. If that happened, there was nothing she could do. She swallowed the thought, where it settled uneasily in her stomach.
Then, they would need to find the way out. Where did Mora find the tablet in the other monastery? Would another tablet be in an equivalent location? This building didn't seem the same.
Her throat felt like it would crack from dryness. She tried to ignore the longing for water. Next, inventory. What tools did she carry? Her pendant, sword, dagger, swordbelt, shirt, trousers, boots, belt for her trousers and socks. Not much that would be of use. She also carried a belt pouch that contained a few gold coins, some elvish firestarters, a whetstone for her dagger and a thin but strong cord. Now, how to add all that up into an escape?
Der went for her sword before her next thought fully registered. Something was wrong. Maybe it was a change in temperature or texture of the shadows; she didn't know. All she could think was that something was different.
She pushed herself away from the wall, but left it at her back. The skin along her arms tingled. The Pallens sword came on guard before her, and the light that reflected from the blade was of a much purer shade than the orange fire.
She turned around, expecting to see Tom standing right behind her.
No one was there.
Moving around another corner, she flinched away from the walls. Life sized impressions of the tormented souls desperately clawed the insides of the walls.
Der held her stomach with one hand, checked behind her shoulder one last time and stepped forward. She brushed the flaking paint from a frozen image of a woman being torn apart by giant, spindly legged insects. Pale pieces of paint came off against her fingers. She began to feel guilty for sins she'd never committed.
She lowered her weapon. Everything was wrong here. Closing her eyes, she let out the breath she'd been holding. She leaned against the wall and listened to her heartbeat audibly dwindle. It was just panic. She hoped.
Find her friends. She must find her friends before Tom. Then again, for all she knew, he was collapsed dead in the chamber with the stone heart. Would she have to finish him if he wasn't slain? She knew to stab vampires through the heart with wood, silver, or a powerful enough magic object. Would her sword even puncture a stone heart?
She owed it to him to find out. Pushing herself from the wall, she turned to face down the way she had come.
Her footfalls were sharp against the graveyard silence. She tried to think about where to go, and decided back to the chamber with the heart. At least she could see if Tom was there, and since it was near the abbot's quarters, Jakkobb would probably be trying to go there too. She started to walk faster as she spun around the corner.
Tom was there.
It took her a second to believe it.
He said nothing. He hardly looked like himself. His eyes glowed cherry red. All of his perfect details were gone. His hair was ragged and his face was sunken in on itself. He wore only half of his tailored shirt and it was bloody, the other half had been torn completely off. The white skin over his heart, however, was whole.
She pointed at his ears. "I knew it!" They rose upward and tapered like an elf's, but never came to a complete point, just like Thalon's. "You are a half elf!"
He tilted his head, and stared as if he'd never seen her before. His hands were at his side, but away from himself in a very casual ready stance.
She took a half step back and glanced down at her Pallens sword. The sapphire twinkled strangely in the orange light. She swallowed a lump the size of her tongue. "Um, Tom? Tom, please."
He moved so fast she didn't even see a blur, and tackled her. The sword slipped from her shocked fingers. Her shoulder blades erupted in fiery pain as her back slammed against the unrelenting stone floor. She struggled for a second, but Tom had her completely pinned. Her right hand flexed, suddenly aware of the missing Pallens sword.
She swallowed again and forced herself to look upward. His face floated inches above hers. She pushed uselessly against him. "Tom, the heart's controlling you! Please listen! I don't think you lied to me about not wanting to keep the heart, but-"
He kissed her, hard. Der felt her lower lip split wide on his fangs, and she tasted blood in her mouth. He pulled back and licked his red lips and stared at her with hunger burning brightly. She licked her own lips, and tried her best to fight the explosive fear. She forced herself to stare directly at him. "Please!"
"Never alone again."
She blinked at his sudden voice; and she could feel the stale wind of his words. She shook her head wildly. "No! You're not alone! Chloe, think about Chloe!"
His face bunched up tightly in confusion for a second. Then, the red began to leak into the whites of his eyes. Der bucked and kicked uselessly against him. He kissed her again, and kissed down her chin and onto her neck. She never even felt his fangs.
Her body surrendered of its own accord, and she erupted into mindless euphoria.
* * *
More men rolled into the cabin. Their weight alone easily pushed Thalon back. He fought two men with a long knife in each hand. His blades sparked as they clashed with the swords over his head.
With a scream, he hurled both knives at his attackers. Then, he dove sideways, scooping up a fallen shortsword. The boy yelped explosively as three more men squeezed into the cottage. He lost count of how many enemies had entered, what Erastus was doing and Chloe.
Peyna stood there amidst it all. No weapons touched him. Several swords tried and rebounded off a heavy layer of invisible energy. The elf's eyes remained shut.
Thalon's shortsword clashed against a raider's. He easily parried and dodged the man's attempts to crack his little skull open. He stretched his arms out as far as he could, but he just couldn't match the reach of the grown men. He retreated against the weight and force of the swords striking at him. The multiple swords trained at him forced him back another step. Behind him, he heard Chloe scream from her bed.
"No!" He backpedaled toward her. The swords seemed to evaporate as he outran them.
Over the girl, one of the attackers cut a chuckle on his remaining teeth. The girl stared mesmerized by the blade that the man held in front of him. She had the knife out, but couldn't do anything more than stare. The man grinned. "Yer coming with us-"
At that moment, Thalon dived for the man's leg - his sword on target and his aim perfect. But, he was too far. He screamed and tried to push his hand out farther. Almost there...
And then, the raider shrieked and spasmed. He sliced the blade wildly through the straw pallet. Hay sprayed everywhere. Chloe screamed.
Thalon whipped his head around to see Peyna with his arm flung in Chloe's direction. Slowly, the elf squeezed his fist closed. The man grabbed his chest above his heart, and collapsed in a heap, dead. Peyna withdrew his arm; he never opened his eyes.
"Chloe!" Thalon skidded to the edge of her bed.
She gripped the knife in a white hand. "There's too many! There's too many!"
He clambered onto the pallet and drove the sword home in a new assailant's thigh. He squealed, but the boy had already moved on to another fighter. Then, in the midst of the cacophony, Thalon heard a silence. Thistle charged forward in a muted rush, his sword already biting into its target. The noise died around this black sword.
"Dad!" Thalon yelled cheerfully.
The chemman didn't acknowledge his son, but instead turned his weapon to a new opponent. The raiders scrambled away from him and the unnatural silence. They tried to escape through the door, but Thistle was there and didn't shrink away from the desperate rush of the remaining three. He fended off their weapons easily and killed each of them in turn.
"Dad!" The boy hopped off the bed. "What took you so long?"
Thistle placed his hand on his son's head and nodded.
"Thalon!" Chloe squeaked, pulling her blanket up to her chin. "He has weird eyes too!"
Thalon waved his sword. "No, no! He's a friend, he's my dad!"
"Oh..." She slowly lowered the knife. She seemed to fully trust Thalon, and waved shyly at Thistle.
The chemman balked, but in his own subtle way, and only his eyes widened for a fraction of a moment. Erastus carefully pushed himself away from his rough hewn table. He looked green, and turned greener still when he stared at the bodies and blood. His hands quivered against the wood.
Peyna still waited motionlessly, and the air surrounding him was almost as hard as stone.
"It's over?" the girl asked hopefully.
Thistle shook his head, nodding to the unmoving physician. He slid in front of the children.
A bird of prey screeched overhead. Then, a sudden wind exploded into the cottage. The gust swept around the physician, whose eyes finally snapped open. Outside the door, a man in black and brown robes flourished a black staff. He looked to be perhaps forty years with a strands of gray hair, but he moved with youth in his strides. Peyna met his wrathful gaze evenly.
The wizard pointed his staff. "Give me the girl." An osprey flew down from the cabin's roof and alighted on his shoulder.
"What girl?" the physician asked back. "'Tis only myself and an old man here."
The old magician cocked his head. "I had not expected a sylvan heir here. You must want to claim the girl too." The bird flew from his shoulder and began to circle the cabin.
The elf frowned. "Or perhaps we wanted to keep her away from your paws. She is safe beyond our hidden borders."
"You must have attempted to cure her illness - and not even the elves would know how to treat her condition because this power doesn't appear in people."
"We have much longer memories than you." Peyna ground his teeth. "I recognize the dark power in you. Sennha's folk all stink the same."
The wizard bowed again. "You know my lord." He straightened. "I see you have already dispatched my men, and with only two of you, and one of you an old man. Do not play me for a fool. I know the girl is in there and still ill and I know there are more of you. Now, surrender or I will make you surrender."
The physician glanced over to see Thistle obscuring any view of the children. He doubted the wizard could even see him in his line of sight. Erastus trembled behind the table still. "I shall prefer not to duel you at all, I am a healer."
"Then, I will be excited to have an elf in my hospitality."
Peyna smiled ruthlessly, and his voice was as musical as always, but now filled with barbs that no human could match. "I have gathered power for spells for just such an event though, and I know you will not surrender and you are too arrogant to realize that any elf is above your power. Your power - I must correct myself, the power you sold your soul to borrow, is weak. I do not envy your pain after your mortal death." He took a calculated step toward the door. "Sennha has only minimal power in the world, and for what he's given you, you are no true wizard!"
The magician thrust the butt of his staff into the ground, and small sparks of lightning shot up from it. "Do not insult my lord, for he is a god, and above all elves!" He pointed threateningly at the physician. "Soon the continent of Solquin shall kneel before his altar! The same as Pallens!"
"Pallens never knelt, she was beheaded." He took another step. "And the Blackhound is dead and has been for centuries, curse his bones."
"Do not tarnish his name!"
"Or what? His spirit will haunt me? Age claimed your luckiest warrior in the summer's passing for an elf. You are nothing." He stepped through the door. "As I will now prove to you."
Thalon tugged on the back of his father's shirt. "Corran - the spy - said Urael had a wizard!"
Thistle quieted him with a discreet hand signal.
His son still leaned back smugly and winked to Chloe. "I figured it out! Ha! Sennha wants this war to happen. There can't be too many wizards in this area, it has to be the same one." His father stamped his heel against the floorboards; the noise was soft and staccato, but Thalon pushed his hand against his mouth.
Peyna's mouth twisted and he thrust forward his hand. The wizard staggered back and grabbed his chest. He doubled forward, wheezing and gasping, but he did not fall. Then, he started to laugh. "Did you think that you could make my heart explode?"
The elf didn't wait for him to finish boasting, and attacked again. The human reeled and tottered drunkenly, but pulled himself back upright. He swung the staff toward the cottage, and a fire exploded all around them, and licked and began to devour the cottage.
Thalon grabbed Chloe and together they rolled off the bed onto the floor. He squeaked when he saw the blanket they had pulled with them was on fire. Chloe yanked the blanket from his hands and threw it away from them.
Her grandfather grabbed his chest. The powerful heat pushed him down to his knees. The walls of the cottage groaned under the weight of the flames.
Peyna turned his palm down and very deliberately closed his fist. The flames wavered and vanished.
The smoke seemed to sizzle as it rose from the dead fire.
The elf smiled through clenched teeth. "Did you think you'd find an elf lacking in magic and wits? Your tricks are worthless." He raised his hand and snapped his fingers.
Immediately, the magician howled and grabbed his back. He twirled around and threw himself to the ground, and his staff flew away from him. His next sound was of an old man in agony.
Peyna advanced out of the cottage. "How do you feel now that your lower spine is twisted like the snake god you so praise?" A vicious scowl chiseled his face. "Oh, you can defend against straight magic, but you have not had enough time to properly learn its intricacies. Now, yield to me and I will ease your pain."
Thistle walked smoothly past the physician, his sword raised for the killing strike. "He will not submit."
Peyna watched dispassionately for a long moment. "So be it."
The wizard writhed in the grass like a serpent. He began to cast a rapid new spell beneath his breath.
The black blade came down to the wizard's head. Its aim was true, but it only sliced the soil. The man had disappeared. The air suddenly stunk terribly, and the stench made both men slap their hands over their noses and stagger away.
* * *
The beast cleared Kelin's head and its claws spread apart as they neared Mora. Kelin's sword and Jakkobb's axe buried themselves in the muscle bound flesh before it was halfway through its arc. Slices of meat fell away from the savagely barking guardian, and it took the weapons along for the rest of its jump.
The captain moved faster; he let the axe go and yanked Mora to the side. The axe clattered to the ground on the other side of the beast.
It screamed. It was high pitched and bass at the same time. Jakkobb's ears felt as if they'd been stabbed with a rusty knife.
"Stay back, Mora!" Kelin yelled.
The magician started to mutter beneath her breath and cleared her hands free of her heavy sleeves. Kelin stepped beside her with blood running off his sword. He also limped from a fresh cut on his calf. The monster's tongue lolled out of its muzzle and its horns glinted ferociously in the orange, flickering light beneath the crystal dome. It scrambled quickly back onto its four legs. Jakkobb laughed openly at it and grinned, holding his weaponless hand in front of him. The blood from its two cuts was already slowing.
Jakkobb marched forward while the guardian pawed the floor and roared. The knight didn't even hesitate and rammed his metal clad fist into its nose. The beast yelped aloud, more in surprise than pain, and its claws scarred the stone floor.
The captain didn't hesitate to do it again. Metal crunched when it collided with the guardian's teeth.
Kelin slipped around to the side, and whipped his sword into its flank. But, it rebounded with barely a scratch. The guardian screamed and spun around. The beast's attention stolen, Jakkobb dove to fetch his axe.
Meanwhile, Mora's eyes burned and a small fire danced between her hands. She launched it past the two fighters directly at the guardian beast. It raised its head to meet the fiery attack, and the flames suddenly sputtered and dissipated between the horns.
"No magic attacks!" Jakkobb cleaved his axe into its side again. "It's made of magic!"
"What do I do?" Her tattooed hands still glowed in front of her.
"Get back!" He no sooner shouted those words than the guardian lowered its glowing horns at him. "Oh no..."
Fire streamed from each point. The knight rolled to the side, barely avoiding the searing bursts.
Mora still hovered near the edge of combat. "What do I do?"
"Stay back!" Kelin fought as near to her as he dared, constantly dodging the beast's claws and teeth. He got one stroke in on the soft pads of its feet, and now it limped when its front left paw came down.
