A World Apart (23 page)

"Good evening, Jake."  Jonas said, a smile on his face.  Hailyn also smiled at Jake in the way of greeting, but did not say anything.  "I came by to check on how your first day of training went."

"Honestly, it was a long day.  I really want to eat, take a quick shower and go to bed."  Jake stated.

Jonas and Norlan looked at each other and shared a good-natured laugh.  "It seems that is everyone's first day experience."  Norlan said.  "I remember that when I started my apprenticeship, I did not think I would ever make it past the first week; I was so tired.  It will pass."

"I remember my soldier training and I know Dominic."  Jonas added.  "I'm satisfied that you have not suffered permanent harm and don't want to stand in your way of a meal and a shower, so Hailyn and I will go now."

"Are you sure you will not stay and eat?"  Norlan asked Jonas.  "We have plenty."

"Thank you, but no; some other time perhaps."  Jonas replied, heading towards the gate.  "Come along, Hailyn."  Hailyn gave Jake's hand a quick squeeze as she passed him, following Jonas out of the gate.

"Let's get you fed, Jake."  Norlan said good-naturedly, leading him into the house.

The meal went by in a fog, as Jake found himself drifting off as he finished his food.  He got up and attempted to assist in cleaning the table, but Madalin sent him out to clean up.  He went to his room, quickly undressed and went out to the shower area.  After his shower, he came back to his room and changed into a clean set of underwear, leaving his dirty clothes and equipment scattered around the room.

Exhausted from the day's efforts, Jake fell back onto the bed and was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

...

The ruddy light of the torches carried by the four half-men escorting him gave his white hair an orange cast as Martis moved slowly and cautiously into the clearing.  He felt very exposed as his guards were emphatically told to stay with the wagon.  He could hear the low laughter and taunts from the several dozen half-men lining the edge of the clearing, many carrying torches, lighting the area.  With this many half-men in one place not trying to kill each other could only mean that a demon was present.  Though he had been a spy for the demons for the last twenty years, he still hated having to deal directly with them.

It was several years ago that the demons that he served had ordered all their followers to immediately bring them word of any stranger that did not seem to be from this world.  Martis had no idea why they issued such an order, since he had never encountered anything like that in his travels, but he learned early on not to ask too many questions.  Over the years, he had almost forgotten about it.

So, it had been a complete shock to him when he had seen that boy, with his strange clothes and devices, sitting on the back of the warrior's horse three days ago.  Knowing the warrior's reputation, he had waited until they were out of sight before he ordered his guards to turn south and head into the Forest.  He had dispatched Frader and Nothes on their horses to seek out the groups of demon followers he knew were operating in the Forest while fat Ranech stayed with him at his camp.  Frader had returned late on the second night to let him know that he found a group.  They had made their way here, with Nothes catching up to them on the road.  Night had fallen when they reached this spot.  The half-men were clear in their instructions: Only Martis was allowed into the clearing.

The half-men voices suddenly faded as one called out - "A Master comes!"  A short, stocky figure stepped into the clearing, the half-men sinking to their knees.  Martis was shoved forward into the clearing where he immediately copied the half-men by dropping to both knees.

The figure, wrapped in a hooded robe, made its way over to Martis, slowly and deliberately.  The hair stood up on the back of Martis' neck and his body began to tremble as he could feel the evil and darkness radiating off the figure.  Martis attempted to stay motionless and kept his eyes locked on the ground as the figure stopped a few feet in front of him.

"You have information for me?"  A cold voice came from the cowl, chilling Martis further.  There was nothing human about the voice.

"Yes, Master."  Martis replied, desperately trying to suppress his body's overwhelming urge to leap up and run.  "I ran into a stranger like the one we were told to watch for.  A boy, dressed in strange clothing."

Martis involuntarily flinched as the figure suddenly moved right up to him.  "Look at me, worm."  The figure commanded.  Martis fearfully glanced up as two human-looking hands reached up to lower the cowl on the robe.  Human-looking, except for the brown scales in place of skin and the dark claws at the end of each fingertip, hooked and shaped into sharp points.  The figure was not much taller than Martis, even though he was on his knees.  This was a demon that foolish men called an Imp, because of its height.  As such, he was almost at eye level when the cowl fell back and he found himself face to face with the demon.

The demon's head was smooth and hairless, covered in the same brown scales as the rest of its body.  It has long pointed ears that lay back along its head.  It had a wide nose that was surmounted by two large eyes.  Those eyes were the darkest black, no iris or white visible, only pits of stygian night.  Below the nose was a wide mouth with thin lips, two rows of sharp, gleaming white teeth visible when the mouth opened.

"Where did you see this boy?"  The Imp hissed.

"At the crossroads north of the forest road, three days ago."  Martis replied.

"Why did you not seize him?  You know that he is important to us."  The Imp asked, voice cold and ominous.

"He was with a warrior..."  Martis started, cutting off as one of the Imp's hands lashed out and seized him by the throat, claws biting into his flesh.  Martis could feel the demon's strength as it tightened its grip.

"I was told that you have at least three fighting men in your employ.  Surely they could have overwhelmed this warrior."  The Imp's dark eyes were unreadable as they stared into Martis' terrified ones.  "Perhaps you are not as committed to us as you say."  The Imp slowly squeezed its hand, rivulets of blood trickling down Martis' neck as the claws pieced his skin.

"I am yours, Master!"  Martis said desperately, voice high pitched and trembling.  "I know the warrior.  He was tall and strong, with a scarred face.  It could only be Dominic, Master.  Even my men could not overcome him."

The Imp stared at Martis for several moments, examining him like one would a bug.  With a shove, the Imp released Martis, causing him to fall over onto his back.  Martis just laid as he fell, making no attempt to return to his knees.

"Dominic, you say?"  The Imp's hands curled into tight fists.  "He has been a thorn in our hand for years.  I found the remains of that fool Matus' party, so it now makes sense.  Soon, hopefully, we will deal with that one."  He glanced down at Martis.  "Where did they go?"

"Sanduas, I believe, Master.  At least, he asked about the capital and headed up the northern road."  Martis said quickly.

"Sanduas."  The Imp mulled it over for a few moments.  He looked back at Martis.  "You will go to the city to see if the boy is there.  Once you know he is there, send word.  If he is not there, you will track him down.  I will need time to gather some of my brothers and more followers, if I must assault the city."

The Imp reached down and grabbed Martis by the front of his shirt, easily lifting him up to his feet.  "You will find out everything you can about the boy, where he is staying, who he deals with, everything.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master."  Martis almost sobbed, grateful to be leaving alive.

The Imp stepped right up to Martis, looking up at his face.  "I want that boy.  Do not fail me.  You should know that I am not the forgiving type."

Martis bowed low, tears of relief falling to the ground.

C
HAPTER
F
IFTEEN

Jake smiled as he approached the picnic area, his family waiting for him, a feeling of joy of being home filling his body and mind.  He could see his parents, smiling and laughing as they prepared the food on the barbeque while his brother and sister playfully wrestled for the nearest hot dog.

As he got closer, Jake was surprised to see Sean and Matt were also there, chatting with someone Jake could not see.  The high sound of a girl laughing and a sudden movement by Sean revealed Tina, laughing at some remark by Matt, Jake was sure.  Impulsively, he yelled a greeting at them and picked up his pace, hurrying to join them.

Despite his increased speed, he could not seem to advance any closer.  He shouted for them, trying to get their attention, but there was no reaction by anyone to his presence.  He was now running as hard as he could, but he did not advance.

Suddenly, a wall of darkness sprang up in front of him.  Startled, he came to a halt, the picnic area now gone, smothered by the darkness, hiding away his family and friends.

It took him a moment to realize that the wall was moving towards him.  The movement was subtle at first; so subtle, he was not certain it was moving.  Frightened, he began to back away, but the darkness moved closer, picking up speed.  Jake turned and ran, desperate to get away.

Despite his efforts, the wall got closer.  He ran heedless through the now strangely formless area, his only thought to avoid the darkness.  He could feel its cold radiating against the heat of his back as it inched ever closer, the faint sound of multiple voices crying out for him growing as well.

Now terrified, he knew that if he was caught, he would be lost.  Breath heaving, his chest feeling like it would burst, he ran.  Ran until something caught his foot, sending him sprawling, crying out in fear.  Waiting for the darkness to take him, Jake lay with his eyes closed.  When nothing happened, he slowly opened his eyes.

He saw that he was lying on a stone floor.  Raising his head, he looked around carefully.  The stone floor extended in front of him for a great distance, bracketed on both sides by stone walls.  He stood, looking up to see a dark sky, roiling with black clouds, winds whistling amongst the stones.  Spinning around slowly, he realized that he was on one of the walls of Sanduas.  He became aware that he was wearing his armor and sword.

As he came to a stop, a sudden movement above caught his eye.  Disbelieving, he saw a dark figure separate and descend from the clouds above.  It landed silently on the wall, about twenty feet away, facing Jake.  It did not have any features other than a vaguely human-shaped form, seemingly made up only of the swirling black clouds.

The figure stood there, still as death.  Death was what Jake's mind told him was in front of him.  His terror rose, all of his instincts telling him to flee, but he seemed rooted to the spot.  His blood seemed to have gone cold and his body frozen.  Then the figure started to move towards him.  His fear rose up and overwhelmed all other thoughts.  Run, his mind screamed.

"Be not afraid, child."  A gentle voice unexpectedly sounded in his mind, warm and comforting.  The warmth of the voice seemed to melt the ice in his veins, freeing Jake from his stasis.

Suddenly, he found himself able to move, rapidly backing away as the figure got closer.  Desperate, he drew his sword, unable to tear his eyes from the figure, which was continuing its silent stalking.

Knowing escape was hopeless, he surprised himself by realizing his main emotion was not fear, but anger.  He stopped, deciding that he would not run, determining at the last to stand and fight.

"You do not fight alone."  The voice came again, smooth and soothing.

Suddenly, Jonas and Hailyn appeared to Jake's left, glowing brightly in the yellow fire of the clerics.  Dominic appeared on his right, sword in hand; solid, hard and indomitable.  Their presence comforted him and steeled his courage and resolve.

The dark figure halted, seemingly startled by his friends' appearance.  For a moment, everything was still, the only movement the roiling clouds overhead.  Without warning, large waves of darkness rolled out from the figure, sweeping over his friends, seeming to wash them out while leaving Jake alone to face the figure.  Two lines of power, like black ropes, sprang out towards Jake.

He moved to evade them and instinctively cut at them with his sword.  He was able to avoid them, but one brushed his arm as they were pulled back to the figure.  Jake knew at that touch that these lines were not to harm him, but to capture him.  The thought of being captured by this creature terrified Jake, his whole body suddenly shaking.  Despair rose up in his mind again.

The faint sounds of Dominic battling in the darkness to his right slipped past his fear into his mind.  That made him aware of faint flashes of yellow fire that pulsed from the darkness on his left.  His friends were still fighting and he needed to fight as well.

As he made that decision, he felt a sudden burning sensation springing from his chest.  He glanced down to see a bluish glow spread from the center of his chest out to cover his body in a glowing nimbus, bright against the darkness.

Sensing its advantage slipping, the figure launched multiple lines of darkness at Jake.  Surrounded by his power, Jake was able to deflect and cut the lines, the blue fire infusing his sword.  More sprang forth, coming with greater frequency, as the figure seemed to grow more desperate.  Jake continued to move and leap about, dodging and cutting, trying to stay clear of the darkness.  His muscles started to burn from his exertions as the lines came more rapidly, seemingly endless.  He could feel his frustration building, forced to constantly defend against the darkness, never having an opportunity to attack.

Suddenly, a line of the dark power slipped past Jake's guard, wrapping around him.  Jake cut at it, severing its hold, but that allowed more lines to wrap around him.  He twisted and turned, desperately cutting, the lines wrapping and tangling more around him, restricting his movements, covering him...

Jake started awake, sprawled across his bed, blankets twisted around his body.  He was sweaty and it felt as if he had been beaten in his sleep, as all of his muscles protested, stiff and sore, when he untangled himself from his covers.  He got to his feet, grimacing as he twisted and stretched, trying to work out the kinks and stiffness.  Clearly, he was not used to working as physically as he did the day before.