Crown of Steel (Chaos Awakens) (22 page)

Kassa stepped forward and placed a hand on Xan's shoulder, as she did so Haley watched the magical energies spin away from Xandrith, dissipating, returning from where he'd drawn them. Across the room Shidsane seemed to visibly relax, though on their side of the room the tension was still heavy.

"You may go." Shidsane said, gesturing for them to leave. "That hall to your right will take you to the upper exit. But Xandrith, this is your last chance. Your kin aren't incredibly patient. If you come face to face with the horde again, and you still stand in opposition, you and your friends will be destroyed."

"Whatever they're promising you, Shit-stain, they're not going to give it to you. They'll use you for what they want, and then you'll be cast away like the trash you are. You think you understand these creatures, but you have no concept of what they are or how they think. You've made a terrible mistake, and I can't wait for the day that you get to see that." Xan’s voice was as cold as Haley had ever heard it.

"We shall see." Shidsane answered, but he had a smile on his lips that said he didn't believe Xandrith for a moment. Haley wasn't sure whether or not the trolls would keep their bargain with the old mage, but she was positive that whatever they wanted him for couldn't be good. What did they need an old human mage for? It had to be something important if they were willing to at least pretend to be taking commands from him.

Xandrith led their retreat down the hall. The trolls watched them go with hungry eyes, but none of them moved as they walked past. Haley noticed that several of their horrible eyes weren't looking at Xan, but at her and her axe. They knew what she and what the axe were. That was unnerving. Was she like Xandrith? A rebel that they were waiting to chose a side?

Haley also finally had a chance to see just how much of a difference Xan's healing had made. Upon closer inspection she could see that his magic hadn't been perfect. Both of his thumbs were back, but the left thumb didn't seem to have all the proper texturing, and it looked a little stiff. The patches of skin on his face and head were ghostly pale and seemed to have an unnatural smoothness to them. His repaired eye was a neutral brown color, nothing like the startling and bright grey that it had been before. Over all he looked much better, but it was obvious he'd lacked some finesse in the rebuilding.

As they exited the building Kassa broke the silence that had settled over them. "Thank you for not doing anything drastic." She said to Xan.

The assassin shrugged. "I wanted to kill him this time."

"I know you did." She said and put a hand on his shoulder. "But you saved our lives by restraining yourself. I know that couldn't have been easy."

Xan grinned. "There's always next time."

PART 2

To Cities Silent and Landscapes Lost

Chapter 1

Annoying Little Crow

Xandrith wasn't sleeping. He needed the sleep perhaps more than the others in his small band of friends, but he couldn't make himself. He drew each deep breath into his lungs as though it might be his last and gazed up at the night sky with eyes that had never hoped to see that sparkling field of stars again. Freedom was a beautiful thing. His hand went to stroke his beard, but it fell away a second later as he remembered that he didn't have a beard anymore. It would grow back in time, but he loathed waiting. His newly healed eye was a little fuzzy and he guessed that he would never regain full use of that orb, but he felt lucky to have any vision in it at all. He was no healer, a fact clearly evident in the work he'd done on himself.

As with all magic, it was easy to use brute force and a heavy application of energy to get some kind of result, but healing magic responded better to a finesse that Xandrith really couldn't muster. His replaced thumbs were perhaps the clearest evidence of that. They looked a bit more like talons than proper digits, and the skin tone and texture wasn't even close to correct. Still, they worked, and that was very nice indeed. The prospect of living with only three fingers per hand hadn't been pleasant. His thumbs were especially useful, even if they weren't quite as articulate as his old ones had been. Wielding a knife probably wouldn't be negatively impacted, though that was hardly a concern anyway since his ability to do so was hampered by the separation of his old skills.

Xandrith could have, if given the right motivation, sat down and composed a long and tiresome novel on the techniques and principals of hand to hand and knife combat. The information was still with him, but the connection between that information and his body just didn't work anymore. He had all the knowledge, but the practical application of that knowledge and the practice necessary to perfect the skills was simply gone. His memories of his training were completely untouched, but the spark of talent was gone and likely would be forever. He'd given that to Kassa in hopes that she would be able to take over Haley's training. That brought his mind back to his two companions and he looked them over fondly.

Kassa was sleeping soundly just a few feet from him, her long hair hanging over the wolf features of her mask that were hiding the familiar lines of her face. To see her alive again, really alive, set his heart to racing and brought a welcome smile to the corners of his lips. He'd really managed to bring her back. He hadn't known for sure until the moment that she'd shown up in his cell. He'd wanted to scream for joy, to cry out in pleasure, but he hadn't even been certain it was real. She'd come back for him again.

Haley lay across the fire from him, huddled in a tight ball with her back to the glowing mass of flame. Xandrith was happy to see her as well, and to learn that her skills were growing quickly, but he sensed some sort of unease. There was a vague tension behind his interactions with the girl now. He feared the axe was growing more powerful. How long could she resist the damned piece of metal? It wasn't easy, not when it offered such savage rewards. If she couldn't give it up soon, Xan knew he might have to take it from her by force. That wouldn't be pretty. The bindings between the blade and its chosen were tightly woven. If he waited too long, he could unmake Haley in the process of freeing her. He didn't want that. She was like the little sister he'd been stripped of when the mages had cut his fingers the first time to make him an Eight. He wanted to do right by her, but she seemed so closed off now.

Of course Xan wasn't exactly the master of sharing things either. Sometimes it was easier to keep things to himself. Knowledge could be a terrible burden, and if one person could carry that burden for everyone, well that just eased the lives of others. Kassa had pressed him to tell her about what had happened to him with the mages, but Xan didn't think she really wanted to know. A part of him wanted to tell the story, but another part of him wanted to hide it all away and never tell anyone ever. The mages had stripped him of his humanity in their dungeon. They'd humiliated him, brought him to the very cusp of death, and driven him to worlds of pain he couldn't have imagined. Still, Xandrith hadn't told them anything. The worst part of it all wasn't any individual piece of torture. No, the worst part of it all was that as they'd pushed him further and further into darkness, Xandrith had begun to truly feel the strength of his troll side waking.

There had been a few times when they had driven his body beyond human limits that the pain had become something to savor. It had fueled his rage and driven his strength higher and higher. The black streaks beneath his skin had twisted through his blood, surging in pleasure at the suffering, and Xandrith had been caught up in that sick and evil power. "Just a little bit more." He'd caught himself whispering as the torturers cut pieces from his body and drove hot nails into the opened wounds. He'd welcomed the troll into him. He'd welcomed the darkness to come and take him. He'd given up on his humanity and succumbed to something vile and grotesque, and that was the worst part of all that had happened. Xandrith had given up.

No one wanted to hear that story. Xandrith couldn't tell anyone. He didn't want to relive the horror of his own weakness. The assassin had been backed into many corners over the years, but he wasn't one to give up. That had changed in the torture cells.

A sudden stillness brought Xan to full alert. The night was quieter than it should have been, the woods too still. His back stiffened and his senses heightened, reaching for some sign of what had broken the calm. He considered waking the others, but that thought quickly fled when a man of middling height stepped from the woods in front of him.

The man was dressed in ranger's clothing, an earth toned and heavy cloak with well fitted leathers beneath. He wore a scimitar at one hip and though he hadn't drawn the weapon, his hand rested easily upon the hilt. His stance was well balanced and relaxed, his eyes cool and confident as he considered Xandrith. In turn, Xan considered him. There was an air of menace about the man, though his eyes did not strike Xandrith as particularly hostile. Xandrith held his hands to his side to show that he wasn't carrying any weapons.

"Visitors who come in the night and don't announce themselves are difficult to trust." Xandrith said, not bothering to dull his voice. He was hoping the others would wake, but in his peripheral vision he couldn't see them moving. Were they really that exhausted?

"Assassins and their friends are also difficult to trust." The man spoke, and Xan realized that this man wasn't much more than a boy. Judging by his voice Xan guessed that he was in his mid to late teens. That he knew who Xandrith was, however, was unsettling enough to make up for it.

"Fair enough. And what brings you to our camp, Little Crow?" Xan asked with his normal, somewhat feral grin.

"Little Crow?" The ranger asked with a frown. When it was clear Xan wasn't going to reply, he shrugged. "Well, if you insist." Without another hesitation he drew the scimitar from its scabbard. The blade was blacker than the night and seemed to soak up the lesser dark of the evening as it passed through the air. "He brings me here." He gestured at the cursed blade he held in his hand. He was another bonesteel blade carrier.  Xan's senses heightened and he found himself already reaching out to the newcomer, grabbing at the young man's magic.

"If you've come here for trouble, I am certainly capable of providing it." Xanhad gathered enough of the boy’s life that he was ready to fill the air with molten fire at an instant's notice.

Little Crow shook his head and slid his weapon away. "No, I'm not here for trouble. I'm here to travel with you."

Xan gave a sharp, short laugh. "No, I don't think so. We've already got one cursed blade with us. I don't need a second set of prying eyes following me."

"It's not really optional." Crow smiled. "The sword says I must go with you, and so that's how it is. I could tell it no, and we would fight. In the end I'd end up doing as it wanted anyway, but it would make me regret it first. That's the way of it. Resistance only causes more trouble. You know that as well as I do. The sword told me who you are."

Xan took a step towards the boy. "I could break the hold that blade has on you. The curse is designed to come undone so that the weapon can move from owner to owner. I know the methods to free you from it." If Xandrith wanted to unsettle the boy, he couldn't have picked any better words. Little Crow took three quick steps back, both of his hands gripping the hilt of his weapon.

"No, no! I need to have the sword. It's a part of me. I would sooner be separated from my head." Crow's face had gone pale, which was particularly strange on his features since he was obviously from the far south-lands. His skin would normally hold a warm brown tone like the tawny hide of a young fawn.

"So you expect me to just let you travel with us even though you're obviously here to spy on me?" Xan asked, not entirely sure what to make of this situation.

"My talents could come in handy. Haven't you wondered why your friends aren't awake and coming to your aid?" He said, looking proud of himself as he pressed forward with his resolve to join Xan's company.

Xan didn't answer, though he was curious.

"I can create spots of isolation. I can only fit two or maybe three people inside one, but once inside the rest of the world can't hear us and they tend not to see us either. If they directly run into me or someone I've brought into one of the spots they'll see us, but usually it makes people uninterested." He explained, looking excited at his own abilities.

"What else can you do?" Xan pressed, knowing that the cursed weapons generally gave multiple abilities.

Crow laughed. "I'm not going to tell you that. I need to save some secrets for myself. You're a murderer, after all. I don't trust you."

Xandrith nodded. "So, what happens if I refuse to let you travel with us?" The assassin was fairly certain he could guess.

"I'll just follow you, and with my particular talents it won't be difficult to do." The answer was exactly what Xan had anticipated.

"What if I just kill you here?" Xan asked, and it wasn't a question offered in jest. For the safety of Kassa and Haley, Xan would kill the boy where he stood.

Crow seemed to be aware that the question wasn't posed mockingly. "You could try, but I'm not easy to kill. If you did manage to take me others would come for you, and they might not come on such friendly terms."

It was an ultimatum. Accept our spy willingly or next time we'll send killers. Xandrith didn't like being given ultimatums. Negotiating in general wasn't his favorite practice, and this was especially true when the other party thought they had the edge. It was clear that the trolls wanted someone with them that they had complete control of. Since Haley was still resisting the bond, she wasn't a reliable source of information. This Little Crow, however, would give them clear insight into exactly what he was doing. They wanted Xan on their side, but if he resisted and it became clear that he was a threat they would already have someone close to him to deal with the problem.

Xandrith wasn't exactly pleased with this turn of events, but he also couldn't see a better way to deal with the situation. Little Crow was dangerous. His ability made him the perfect spy. Any secrets he wanted to keep from Crow, he'd also have to keep from the others. The boy’s abilities would make it impossible to ever tell anyone anything without knowing for certain if he was listening in. Xan could guess along what lines Little Crow’s other abilities would run from the one he had shown him.