Read City of Steel (Chaos Awakens Book 3) Online
Authors: Heath Pfaff
Time passed slowly, and the water began to get colder and colder as Xandrith drifted to some unknown corner of the Forge. The air began to grow increasingly chilly as well. Eventually Xandrith came aground on a street corner, the water depositing him there alongside debris from Forge's fall, and the blackened remains of unidentifiable bodies. Xandrith clawed his way onto dry land and then struggled up onto his good leg. He scavenged the debris for a bit and eventually located a scrap of metal that came to nearly his shoulder. He could lean on it to help himself walk without putting weight on his broken leg. His shoulder he wedged into a door frame and popped back into socket. The pain was awful, but he regained use of the limb almost immediately, which was the best he could hope for.
Other than his leg and his hastily repaired shoulder, he had a dozen bruised ribs, several deep cuts and gouges, and he was feeling light headed and weak. This was probably due to the large amount of blood he'd been losing for some time. He did some hasty patching work, but he didn't have a source of fire to sear the wounds, and he didn't have a needle or sinew to sew the wounds closed.
"Doesn't matter, I'm good at bleeding." He noted to himself. He looked around for a moment, expecting his younger self to reply. Only the sound of water moving and metal groaning in protest echoed through the empty Forge. Xandrith sighed in resignation and began walking. He wasn't sure where he was within the Forge, but he knew the direction he'd been traveling in the water and continuing in that direction had to bring him to a wall at some point. If he found a wall, he might be able to find an exit.
Xandrith was already several blocks away when something large, blackened, and terrible crawled out of the water not far from where he'd emerged. Its skin was cracked and oozing thick, black blood in hundreds of places. It was alive though, and healing quickly. It raised its nose to the air and took a deep breath. The scent of human blood was mixed with the nearly overpowering smell of burnt flesh that rose from its own body. It didn't take the troll long to find Xandrith's trail.
Chapter 5
Loft Heights, Lofty Goals
Crow set up with a groan of agony, clutching at his stomach and looking incredibly pale and weak. Haley was with him in a second, placing her hand on his shoulder to gently urge him back to the bed, an expression of deep concern on her face.
“It’s not time to get up yet, Merrick.” She said softly. “I know being in bed is getting to you, but you’re still recovering from your wounds. If you force yourself up and around too quickly you’ll just undo all the healing you’ve managed to this point.”
The young swordsman looked as though he might protest, but the words faltered on his lips as he looked at Haley. “I’ve already been here too long. I’m feeling fine.”
“You don’t look or sound fine, and Tilda says you should rest for another day before you get up.” Haley told him, placing her hand on his forehead. His flesh was warm to the touch, and he flinched away slightly at the press of Haley’s fingers. A slight blush rose to his cheeks, and Haley couldn’t help but smile at him. “You’re still running a slight fever, but I think you’re going to be alright if you can just manage to stay off your feet for another day or so.”
Crow shrugged and frowned. “I don’t want to stay here anymore. We should get going.” He looked across the room at where his sword sat against the wall. Haley had broken the binding on the weapon. It still allowed him to channel his magic, but he no longer felt any tie to the blade. There was no compulsion to have it close to him. Without that draw, Merrick felt somewhat empty. It was the first time he’d felt truly alone in a long time.
Haley’s smile fled her face and her expression darkened. “Where would we go, Merrick? Xan is ... he’s missing.” Tears threatened to sting her eyes and she blinked them away. “There isn’t much time left for any of us. We don’t have anywhere to go. All of our plans are destroyed.”
“We don’t have to give up, Haley.” Crow said. He reached a hand out and took one of Haley’s in his. His touch was warm on her skin, and she found herself blushing as he had moments before. “We could go someplace together and start a home. Now that the weapons aren’t cursed we could find some place where the trolls can’t get to us and just try and live out our lives.”
“A home?” Haley asked, not sure what Crow meant by that exactly. Was he implying that he wanted to marry her, or was he just talking in the general sense of the word? Haley found herself blushing again and wished she had her mask on to hide the expression, though the mask would have reflected it to some degree anyway.
Crow looked a little surprised at himself. He cleared his throat. “We could share a place, together. If you wanted. I mean, you could have your own place if you don’t want to live with me.”
Tilda laughed as she entered the room. “That was one of the more awkward conversations I’ve ever had the privilege of breaking up.”
Crow released Haley’s hand and she took a step back from the bed, her fingers moving to cover the burned side of her face without meaning to. What was she even thinking? Crow was a good looking young man who could have any girl he wanted. He couldn’t really be interested in her. She was just a burnt, damaged girl, and only one person had ever not thought of her that way. Xandrith.
“We’re just trying to decide what we do next.” Haley said quietly, looking for where she’d left her mask. She saw it sitting on a table a few feet away and she recovered it, sliding it quickly over her face. Beneath the magic wood façade she felt safe. She felt like no one was judging her.
“You are welcome to stay here as long as you need to.” Tilda said with a shrug. “I don’t think this place will be safe much longer, though. The mechanna creatures were dangerous, but I’d learned how to avoid them. There’s something else out there in those woods now though. Trolls, if I’m guessing correctly. Trolls are mean bastards, and they’ll come looking for us if they find any sign that we’re around.”
“Won’t the mechanna things take care of the trolls?” Crow asked.
Tilda nodded. “Sure, they would, if they were still out there. I haven’t seen one of them since the day you two arrived on my stoop. I don’t know where they went, but it doesn’t bode well that they’re gone and the trolls are moving in.”
Haley tried not to let her voice hold as much desperation as she felt. “What do we do then? If even this place isn’t safe, where do we go?” Xandrith would have known what to do. No matter how bad things had gotten, the assassin always knew what he was going to do next. Haley wished that some of his decisive nature had been passed on to her. She desperately wanted to know what she should do next. A part of her wanted nothing more than to head out and search for the assassin again. She couldn’t make herself believe that he was gone. She wouldn’t believe that he was dead. She’d fought with him. They’d parted on terrible terms, and it couldn’t end like that. Xandrith couldn’t be gone thinking that she hated him.
The guilt of that thought burned through her like a terrible fire and she felt a wave of nausea rise up strongly for a second. The damned cursed weapon had ruined her last moments with the assassin. No, she forced herself to stop thinking like that. He couldn’t be dead.
Tilda sighed. “I know a place that we could probably go. I’ve never been there myself, but I have friends, contacts, who reside in a fortress far to the north of here. They’ve told me time and again that if the entire world fell, that fortress would keep standing. If I’m to leave this place, then that’s where I would go next.” She looked sadly at her hut. It was clear that the place was as much a part of her as any place could be a part of someone. “I know it’s not much, but I am not eager to leave this place behind.”
“Do you think if Xandrith got out of the Gray Ways, maybe he found the fortress?” Haley asked, wanting something to hope for.
It was Crow who spoke though, and it surprised Haley. “Xandrith is dead, Haley.” He said, his voice firm, not mean, but spoken strongly. “We can’t keep making our plans in hopes that we’re going to find him again. You need to think past that.”
Haley’s face tightened beneath her mask, a wave of anger flooding through her. “He’s not dead, Crow! Just because he didn’t come out of the Gray Ways before we had to leave doesn’t mean he’s dead. We can’t just forget about him!” Her words were hot and angry, far fiercer than she’d meant them to be.
Crow flinched as if struck. “Haley, I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“Just shut up, Crow.” Haley snapped, and she walked from the bedroom out into the main room, leaving the young swordsman and Tilda in her wake. What right did he have to say that Xan was dead? What did he expect to accomplish by saying things like that? What did he even want from her? He pretended to be so nice all the time, and that had to mean he wanted something.
A hand touched her shoulder, and Haley rounded on the hand’s owner ready to lay into them with a burning fury, but it was Tilda and not Crow, as she should have known. Crow couldn’t really leave the bed. Haley’s mouth worked soundlessly a few times, and then she just shook her head.
“Child, I know you’re sad. I know you cared deeply for Xandrith, but you can’t keep living every day like he will walk back into your life at any moment. You need to live and be happy. Wouldn’t he have wanted that for you? That’s what your friend in there wants for you.” She pointed towards the room where Crow lay.
Haley wanted to snap back in anger, but the anger was being consumed and washed away by a deep, overwhelming sadness. “I loved him.” She said softly.
Tilda put a hand on the side of her face. “It’s okay to love someone, even if they’re gone, but don’t let the ghost of a love lost haunt you to the point that you too become a phantom. Why don’t you and Crow join me at Forge Haven? It’s a long trip, but that place should prove safer than this one. If nothing else, it might give you some more time to think.”
A tear streaked down Haley’s mask, but she refused to acknowledge that it was there. “Yeah, let’s go to Forge Haven.”
The silence of the forsaken city was intimidating. It was difficult for Xan to believe that it was the same place he’d left not long ago. All signs of civilization had been burned away, leaving an impressive metal skeleton of what had once been a marvelous city and a testament to the ingenuity of the mechanna. Xandrith wanted nothing more than to find his way out. His surroundings were depressing enough without the growing concern of the time that was slipping away from him.
Xandrith stopped suddenly in his tracks, his churning internal dialogue put on hold by an alarm from his ever keen senses. He turned his head to the side and listened carefully. The quiet of the Forge was punctuated only by the sounds from the broken reservoir. Xandrith kept listening. He’d heard something else. A steady clicking sound. It came again, growing slightly louder with the passing of the seconds. It was the sound of claws on metal. Something in the city was moving besides the assassin, and it was coming in his direction.
Xandrith scanned his surroundings quickly, looking for a place to tuck himself away. He was far too injured to run, and confronting whatever was behind him didn’t seem like a better alternative. If he could find a place to hide and let his pursuer slip by him, he might have a chance. Xan ducked into the burnt remains of a home, passing through the open door without touching it so as not to make a sound. His motion was slowed by his broken leg and his reliance on his makeshift cane, but he still moved with practiced silence.
The inside of the home was just as burnt as the outside. Whatever explosion had consumed the Forge, it had been thorough. Xandrith was beginning to suspect that it had indeed been the mechanna who had burned their own city as a final blow against the trolls. The totality of the damage spoke of a planned maneuver, not the result of a hastily thought up action. Xan couldn’t help but wonder and hope about the damage they might have inflicted with their massive sacrifice.
The assassin made his way deep into the home and then tucked himself under the remains of a kitchen table. It was far from an ideal hiding place, but it would have to suffice with his current level of limited mobility. With any luck he wouldn’t need to hide there for long. He forced himself to relax and listen. The clicking sound was more difficult to hear from inside, but Xandrith quickly picked it up again. It had drawn closer yet and was accompanied by the dull thud of something heavy walking down the metal road. It was a troll, and a large one by the sound of the steps.
Xandrith wasn’t sure how the creature had survived the explosion. All the other trolls he’d seen had been nothing but ash and bone floating in the flood waters. He supposed it would have been too much good fortune for them all to be dead. His day hadn’t been going particularly well to that point, and it made sense that it wasn’t going to get better.
“That’s some negative thinking.” Young Xan spoke up. He was sitting atop the table Xandrith was hiding under.
Xandrith placed a finger across his lips and swatted at a leg that wasn’t really dangling in front of him.
Young Xan lowered his voice. “Does this make you feel better?” He asked with a grin. “I don’t think it’s going to hear me anyway.”
The assassin glared from his spot beneath the table. Imaginary Xan hopped down from the table and crouched down so he could make eye contact with the real him. “We’re in trouble again.”
Xan nodded.
Young Xan’s face grew serious. “No, I mean we’re in real trouble, Xandrith. You’re hiding under this table thinking that big guy is going to just walk right on by but he’s not going to do that. Trolls have a keener sense of smell than we do, and you’re bleeding all over the place. He’s coming for you, and you aren’t going to be able to hide.”
Xandrith opened his mouth to reply, and then closed it again. Of course younger-him was right. That was why this troll seemed to be following the exact same path he’d taken. It was following the scent of his blood.