The Vitalis Chronicles: White Shores (15 page)

He squeezed her tight, the blood on her arms and chest sticking to his thick leather armor. His mind went blank as guilt beat down the doors to his soul; he forced his eyes shut as if to push it back but was rewarded only with a deeper sense of loss. Tears pushed through his eyelids as she began to disintegrate, sparkling silver and blue dust drifting towards the sky. Soon she was gone, leaving his arms empty, the bloody knife on the ground.

The Shadow King tried to yell but it stuck in his throat. He had failed, again. He would never be able to forgive himself.

Time passed unmarked as he sat in the clearing attempting to regain his composure. He could avenge his honor. He could avenge his people. He could avenge his love.

He would. And the Black City would feel every ounce of his wrath.

T
HE CREATURES RUSHED
forward, they were unlike anything Alisia had ever seen. She braced herself, planting her right foot behind her as she squared her shoulders and put her hands out in front. Blasts of white flame shot out of her left and then right palm, alternating as she defended herself. The stench of seared hair began to fill the cave until she thought she would choke.

The monsters looked ferocious, but were easily scared away by a few burns. Soon they were unwilling to approach her for fear of the fire, but they didn't give up either.

It was as if she could read it in their dull black eyes. They were going to figure her out; they would have her one way or another. Alisia was tiring, and while she hoped they had no way of knowing that, she couldn't fend them off forever. The thought of rolling back through the slit she'd just crawled through crossed her mind, but there were other enemies that weren't so frightened of her fire back that way.

A scratching noise came to her through the low gurgling, somewhere behind her. She turned around in time to catch the full weight of the black figure in the chest. It sent her sprawling as it bounced off her and into the crowd of its peers. They took advantage of the moment and rushed forward, snarling and ripping at her with their claws.

She rolled to avoid them but couldn't go far and soon they were on her, pinning her down and tearing at her clothes. She writhed and tried to escape, screaming as their claws began to dig into her legs and arms. Then something clanked and rolled into the cavern.

The beasts stopped and looked around for the source of the intrusion. A loud puff followed by the hissing of something releasing pressure pierced the din. The creatures were off of her in an instant and began backing into the darkness. Thick black smoke was pouring out of a small canister not ten feet from where she had entered. It smelled worse than the burning hair that had threatened to choke her a moment before.

Alisia got up quickly, covering her mouth with her arm and trying to form some sort of bubble to keep the smoke away. It was no use; she was exhausted. She could hear the monsters scurrying away into the darkness, hiding from this new threat. She began to cough, and soon she was vomiting. She tried to climb a rock to escape but it was no use. Her eyes swelled and filled with tears so she couldn't see anything. The coughing racked her body, forcing her to drop to her knees as she dry heaved.

She heard footsteps in the smoke, but couldn't bring herself to look around. Suddenly she was aware of dark boots standing next to her. One of them kicked her, catching her shoulder and sending her flying backwards.

Three Hunters approached her slowly, each wearing a mask covered with valves designed to filter out the gas. One of them held a rod in his hand. It had a glass and metal cage at on the end, containing a crystal like some ridiculous magic wand. He flicked a switch on its shaft with his thumb, causing the crystal to glow, amplifying the
MARD
it contained and repelling the Atmosphere from the room.

Alisia could feel it leave like the introduction of a vacuum. She collapsed to the floor, limp. Her body relied on the Atmosphere for strength, without it, she was almost completely helpless. Her light left her, the tactical lights mounted on the soldiers' shoulders providing the only illumination in the room.

One of them made a comment to his comrade and laughed. She couldn't make it out through the thick mask. The other didn't seem to find it funny, ignoring the first as he walked around next to her head. She could hardly see him through the tears. He waited a moment, cocking his head, and then pulled his knee up standing on one leg. He brought his foot down hard on her face, and the world went dark.

What could have been days later was more likely hours. Alisia awoke, sitting on the ground tied to a tree. A lazy breeze passed through the forest as sunlight danced all around her. A
MARD
stick was planted firmly in the ground a few feet in front of her, awkwardly jutting out from between her feet. That was about all she could see, her chin resting on her chest where it would stay as long as the
MARD
was active.

Her head felt afire. The burning sensation on her face was in direct competition for her attention with the intense itching across the bridge of her nose. She tasted blood as she slowly pulled her tongue back through her lips and into her mouth. She couldn't move her hands, but in a way she was glad for that. Of all the things her nose could use right now, scratching was probably near the bottom of the list.

Alisia could hear voices coming from behind her tree, perhaps ten yards off. They were muffled, but she wasn't sure if that was on their account or due to her raging headache.

“Well then why the hell are we still here?” came a gruff voice.

“New orders. We've gotta find a place to stash the girl.”

“I say we kill her now and tell them we got the orders too late,” came a third, far less comforting voice. “Easier to ask forgiveness and all that.”

“We can't, she may be the key to catching the old boot heel and ending all of this.”

“She's just a whelp,” the gruff voice spoke up again. “What could any of the brass want with her?”

“She's a whelp that killed four of us; you'd do well to remember that.”

“True enough,” the gruff voice conceded the point. “But you know what I mean, Sam. She's not an Elder like the Witch, not much use for experimentation 'n whatnot.”

“Are you not listening?” Sam sounded agitated, “She's bait. Silvers, or whatever that thing is wants her. They recovered a picture of her from his office in the South Tower. They confirmed it with a few survivors from his battalion; she's the reason they burned the whole village.”

Burned the whole village?
Her headache faded momentarily as the thought burst to the forefront of her mind,
Levanton?

“So we tie her to a chair in some bunker,” continued Sam. “Load the place with explosives, and when he shows up blow the both of 'em to hell.”

“Stupid hillbillies should have just given her up when the heel asked for her,” said the third voice, cold and sly. His voice had a serpentine quality, intelligent and calculating.

“I doubt it would have helped much. Silvers was out for blood” said Sam. “Either way, they're dead now. All for this girl.”

“Which brings me back to why she's so damned important?” said the gruff voice.

“Who knows, but he wants her. Bad.”

Alisia's mind was racing. The whole village burned because of her? How could they have even known she was there? She felt the ropes holding her to the tree cut loose, her arms sliding lazily to her sides as she sat motionless. Boots appeared by her legs as rough hands grabbed and hoisted her in the air.

“Don't suppose we want you walking around on your own, do we?” came the gruff voice as he threw her over his broad shoulder, Alisia's arms dangled over her head as her face scraped on the loops in his tactical vest. She groaned weakly.

“Sounds like she doesn't like you much, Wilks,” Sam said from somewhere ahead as they made their way through the forest.

“I don't doubt it for a minute, Sam.”

They took their time walking through the woods. The Hunters were in no hurry, with their prey captured, there wasn't anything to press them. The men laughed as they joked dryly amongst themselves. Alisia's stomach defied gravity as it sank. She could feel freedom distance itself with every jostling step her captor took.

“I say we take her to Core. The old bunker there should do the trick, eh Sam?” Wilks said as he shifted her on his shoulder.

“It's too easily defended.”

“Too easily... well isn't that the point?”

“No,” she could hear Sam's voice more clearly as he came closer. “He'll know it's a trap. If he's gonna walk into it willingly it has to be enticing enough to be worth it.”

“At our own heightened risk,” the sly voice came from her left. “What you mean to say is we're letting our pants down where he can catch us good.”

“Basically, but Anders will meet us there. When we've got the whole squad back together, Anders'll be able to handle him.”

“Where, pray tell?” the sly voice remained unsatisfied.

“Southridge.”

“Oh sweet God in heaven,” Wilks stopped short, causing Alisia's nose to bang into his back again. “That's about as difficult to defend as they come.”

“We can hold our own–”

“It's a God-forsaken cliff! Some jackass built a bunker in the edge of a cliff covered in pathways and caves and you think this is the solution to our grand problem?”

“The goal isn't to defend it, Wilks.” Sam turned around as the group came to a halt. “The idea is to let him in and blow him up.”

“Correct me if I'm wrong, but how on earth does this pass in your mind as a plan?”

“There's nothing to correct there,” the sly voice pointed out.

“You know what I mean,” Wilks was fired up. “We're asking some damned creature that slaughtered half a battalion on his own, lest we forget, to visit us on a cliff with multiple approaches in hopes that he walks right on in without hunting down and killing each and every one of us first?”

“Yes.”

“And then, if he does walk in, we expect him to go deep enough and stay long enough without realizing what's going on that we can blow him sky high and hope to God that it's enough of a surprise to catch him off guard unlike the last unsuccessful attempt that took place only a matter of days ago?”

“Yes.”

“And you really think this will work?”

“Yes.”

“How the hell do you figure that?”

“Because if he doesn't get in there quickly enough, we'll blow her to hell and he won't have her either way.”

“What?!”

“Well then why don't we just kill her now if you don't give a shit?” came a different voice than Alisia had yet heard.

“Oh God, not now.”

“Lucius.”

“I'll slit her throat right here.”

“Where did you come from?”

“Anders sent me to make sure you were all still kickin'. I guess the answer is no.”

“We're fine, thanks Lucius.”

“Doesn't look like it to me. Who's this little princess here then? She's the one worth all this trouble? I don't think so. Let's just do her here and now.”

Alisia felt her gut wrench as he touched her hair gently. If she had the strength she might have thrown up. Everything started to spin, even more so as the big brute carrying her swung her around his shoulder and placed her on the ground to the side of the trail.

“We don't need to get the ol' boot heel, no matter what they say back home.”

“Right, like we can go back to Elandir without his head on a spit.”

“Sam, you always think too big for your own good. The little witch is dead either way, why risk our lives for her? Huh? And why not have some fun while we're at it?”

“Not on your life, Lucius! Not while I'm around!”

“The captain's pet, eh? Always the captain's pet. Well Keaton isn't here, is he? Dear old Anders can't see you now, so why are you acting all brave and gallant? Huh?!”

Everything was starting to blur. She was losing consciousness.

“I swear if you touch her I'll kill you, Lucius. Wilks, pick her up.”

The world spun again as she felt her body being hoisted once more but then she was dropped, almost thrown to the ground. Bright flashes of light entered her vision as the men began to shout, one of them screamed bloody murder as more flashes and loud cracks rattled her eardrums. Something big hit her hard and rested heavily on her chest.

She felt overwhelmed for a minute as the spinning weight of the world oppressed her blurred vision. She couldn't breathe, and everything faded into tortured oblivion.

A
RDIN VITALIS WANDERED
. That was about all he could remember; it had been the better part of a week and he wasn't really sure where he was. His headache had only just begun to subside and all he could think about was a girl he'd never seen with his own eyes. He was certain she was the one his brother had been infatuated with. She fit his description perfectly. And it would have certainly taken a beauty like that to cause John to lose his head like he had.

The days were spent stumbling through the woods; west, always into the west. He didn't know why, but he sensed that the girl was off beyond the setting sun. And so he wandered. There was no better word for his distracted weaving through the forests.

His nights were tormented with nightmares of the inferno that was Levanton. He watched as his family was shoved into their house and burned alive, his father shot like an animal as he attempted to defend his family. The heat was there, always the blistering heat of the fires.

The thought of losing his father tore at him. Where would he ever find such a source of caring wisdom again? He had admired his father, he still did. He would kill for a guiding word, a strong embrace. Anything.

Then his guilt-ridden failure to save his brother would wash over him like freezing water. And the girl, he had never seen her but she appeared so regularly in his dreams that he felt he knew her intimately.