Bonds That Break (The Havoc Chronicles Book 3) (2 page)

As I looked closer, it bore a strong resemblance to Gamera from the old Godzilla movies I used to watch with my dad. Too strong to be a coincidence. Yes, Margil was feline rather than reptilian, but I couldn't help but wonder if the creator of Gamera had somehow seen Margil when he had been unbound.

Shing, Rhys, and I lined up facing the Havoc. We had to be careful. If we were too aggressive, Margil would run away. We had to engage him without frightening him off. Havocs were especially likely to run if they knew the Berserker and Binder that could trap them to the location were both there.

It just so happened that I was both.

Until I came into my powers, Berserkers had always been boys and Binders had always been girls. By virtue of the fact that my mom had been a Binder and my dad a Berserker, I had somehow inherited a mutant version of the powers and was both the Berserker and Binder for the Havoc Pravicus.

That was bad enough, but it turns out that every time a Berserker or Binder died, instead of a new one developing powers somewhere in the world, I somehow got the powers. I was now the Berserker and Binder for not only Pravicus, but Thuanar and Margil too. And after Mallika sacrificed herself when she couldn't arrive in time to help bind Osadyn, I also became the Binder for Osadyn.

I wasn't exaggerating about people dying around me.

Margil reared back on two legs and roared a challenge at us. Shing took him up on it and rushed forward, hitting the exposed underside of Margil and flipping him onto his back.

Margil thrashed around trying to right himself. He really did look like a turtle that had been upended. Surely it couldn't be that easy.

And of course it wasn't.

Margil managed to flip himself over and turn back to face us, more angry than ever. His long fangs dripped with a really gross-looking juice that I was sure wasn't something I wanted to touch – ever.

Rhys and I both rushed forward to attack Margil from either side, but he leapt over both of us and ran down the stairs.

Fortunately, Shing had already anticipated this, and after hitting Margil had swung around and doubled back behind us, cutting off Margil's escape.

Margil hesitated for just a moment as he tried to move his massive bulk in a different direction to go around Shing. That hesitation was all I needed. I leaped from the stairs and landed on Margil's shell, doing my very best to avoid impaling myself on one of the spikes. We were hard to kill, but not immortal.

The Havoc thrashed about as it felt my weight land on it, trying to throw me off. But I wasn't going to allow that to happen. I reached around his neck and grabbed a handful of fur and pulled back with all my strength.

Without warning, everything around me changed. It was like falling into a waking dream that completely blotted out the world around me. Jagged images and bits of scenes flashed around me. This was not the first time I had experienced something like this when dealing with a Havoc.

Once again I saw the muscular man with long hair obscuring half his face and the single eye that seemed to pierce through me. I also saw two men. One was big and strong, with biceps the size of my thighs and a metal glove on his hand. I had also seen him before. This time he was pacing back and forth before what appeared to be a cave entrance. The other man was new to me. His hair was dark and he was as thin as the other was muscular. He had a clever-looking face, with wide eyes that at first appeared innocent, but when I looked deeper seemed to be dancing with mischief. He stood by the cave entrance watching the gloved man with a look of calculating appraisal. 

And with that I was out of the dream, or vision, or whatever it was. I wasn't sure how long it had lasted, but it couldn't have been long since I was still on Margil's back, holding my varé and a handful of the creature's fur.

But not for long. The vision had dazed me, and I loosened my grip on his fur just enough to have it slip through my fingers as he bucked and tossed me into the air.

I managed to find my bearings and rotate just perfectly so I landed on my feet, facing Margil. Without thinking, I dropped my varé, extended my hands, and cast a snare. Black cables flew from the tips of my fingers and wrapped themselves around Margil's massive shell, constricting and securing him tightly.

A snare is a special power that only Binders have. Most Binders can only make thin threads and have to weave them into something stronger. It's a tedious process and takes hours, or even days, depending upon the size and strength of the snare. For whatever reason, my snare was supercharged and thick enough that I didn't need to weave it.

Margil thrashed against the snare, desperate to free himself. Fortunately, tonight was a full moon. During the full moon the powers of a Binder are magnified and so my already enhanced Binder powers were even stronger than normal.

I held tight, pulling with all my strength. Gradually he began sliding down the stairs. Rhys and Shing circled back behind him and began pushing, making my job of pulling much easier.

At the bottom of the stairs was a large plaza filled with three concentric stone circles ringed by elaborately decorated walls about three feet high.

The perfect place to weave a web to hold a Havoc.

Margil must have figured out what we were doing and he began to thrash even harder, growing stronger in his desperation. But three Berserkers are a force to be reckoned with, and after several minutes of struggling we were able to drag the massive Havoc into the center of the circle.

I flung out cables in all directions, weaving them through the ornamental stone wall. I sure hoped I wasn't desecrating some sort of holy site or shrine. That would be just my luck. But it was too late to worry about it now. I pulled the cables tight, trapping Margil in the center of the stone circle.

Even with the full moon and my enhanced powers, weaving a snare like this wasn't easy. My strength was quickly draining. I felt each of Margil's thrashes against my snare and knew that I couldn't hold on much longer.

"We have to bind him here," I said. "I can't hold the snare much longer."

Not that there was anything Rhys or Shing could really do at this point. Normally binding a Havoc is a two person job, but since I was both Binder and Berserker for Margil, that meant that I had to do both jobs simultaneously. And I had one chance to get it right.

I secured the lines of the snare as tightly as I could and walked toward the Havoc. It opened its huge maw and roared at me, a force so powerful it staggered me back several steps. But I kept going.

Once I was a few feet away from Margil, I realized I had dropped my varé and had nothing to cut myself with. Before I could say anything Rhys was by my side, holding out my varé. I took it from him and flicked it open. I held out my left arm and drew the edge of the blade along the skin. A wide gash opened, blood spilling out onto the ground before me.

But it didn't behave like normal blood. Instead of falling in a pattern of random drops, the blood flowed from my arm, much faster than it should have. Even as it fell, I could feel the power in it. The blood moved and swirled on the ground, never staying still, and giving off a bright red light that normal blood never could.

Margil thrashed even harder. The strain of draining my own blood and holding the snare was almost too much for me, and I dropped to one knee no longer able to stand.

And once again Rhys was there – an immovable object in a world where everything else seemed to be shifting. He put his arm around me and helped me back to my feet. Even with his assistance, it took all my will to force my body up. But I did it.

Margil growled at me, a look of burning hatred dominating his feline face. His eyes radiated malice. I could feel waves of emotion emanating from him.

I knew what had to be done. Concentrating on the swirling blood in front of me, I forced it into a circle, just as I had done before. Just as the Binder power within me knew was right.

I reached down and placed my right hand in the center of the circle and pressed down as hard as I could. The blood was cool and felt tacky to the touch. My hand sunk down into the congealed blood, leaving a handprint.

Immediately, bright beams of energy burst out of the seal, spiraling hundreds of feet into the air and lighting the area around us.

When I pulled my hand away from the seal, it left a perfect handprint in the blood, no smearing, no running – flawless. It was as if it had been carved there with perfect precision.

I held up my hand and turned to face Margil. What I saw shocked me.

Instead of the fierce hatred that I had seen only moments before, Margil's eyes were wide and filled with fear. He trembled violently, struggling to escape.

That look of fear was enough to make me hesitate just slightly. I still remembered when I had bound Osadyn and had seen myself through his eyes – a fierce, unstoppable jailer. A figure of horror and terror. That had been beyond disturbing. I still dreamed about it from time to time. Where had that feeling come from? I had seen the evil that the Havocs had done. I had lost friends and family because of them.

Was I just scared? Was I fooling myself into seeing something that wasn't there? No one else ever saw visions or communicated with the Havocs. Of course, no one had ever been a Binder and Berserker before, either.

"Madison?" Rhys asked, his voice cutting through my thoughts, calming my fears. "What's wrong?"

I took a deep breath and let it out. "Nothing," I said. "I just needed a second to think."

I reached out to place my hand on Margil's head, ignoring the look of fear in his eyes. I wasn't killing the creature. I was simply binding it. Removing its ability to kill innocent humans.

I caught the movement just a fraction of a second before it happened. There's a reason why Berserkers needed to have super speed and strength. Margil's jaws clamped down where my hand had been only an instant before. It had been so close that I actually felt the brush of his lips against my fingertips as I yanked my hand out of harm's way.

Now that just made me mad. Here I was feeling all sorry for him, while he pretended to cower in fear to catch me off guard.

With my left hand – I didn't want to smear the blood on my right – I punched Margil between the eyes. Hard. Sure it was left-handed, but I was still a Berserker and even left-handed I could shatter a boulder no problem. I wasn't sure what would happen if the blood on my hand got smeared, but I sure wasn't going to find out.

Margil blinked hard, his eyes rolling back in his head for a moment before recovering. I probably could have bound him right then, but out of the corner of my eye I saw Rhys drop to one knee, and then fully collapse to the ground.

I've always considered myself to be a focused person. If I'm concentrating on something, I don't get distracted easily. There were few things that could have broken my concentration that held the snare.

Seeing Rhys collapse was one of them.

I watched as the black cables of my snare disappeared into a puff of black mist – instantly gone.

Margil immediately knew what had happened, and wasted no time taking advantage of it. He lunged forward, jaws gaping wide and ready bite me in half.

There's nothing like the fear of imminent death to bring your concentration back to where it belongs. Even as I wanted to check Rhys and make sure he was all right, my Berserker survival instincts took over and I leaped up and backwards, just avoiding Margil's snapping jaws for a second time in under twenty seconds.

Margil's jaws closed with a loud gnashing of teeth right where I had been standing. Fortunately, I was several feet in the air above that location. On my way down, I reached out with my right hand and placed it on Margil's head, right between his two enormous eyes.

As my palm connected with Margil's head, my vision blurred. Just as when I had bound Osadyn, bits of images flashed through my mind, almost faster than I could register them. I saw myself through Margil's eyes – a hunter come to bind him forever. I could actually feel his fear of me.

But after my experience binding Osadyn, I had expected this one last attempt to confuse me and cloud my judgment. I wasn't sure what kind of game the Havocs were playing, but I had seen them at work. I had personally witnessed firsthand the kind of destruction they left wherever they went.

The Havocs needed to be bound. I could feel that truth deep inside me.

With my hand firmly pressed against Margil's head, I created the mental connection between the seal of blood, and Margil.

Margil howled as the color drained out of him and he began to fade, becoming insubstantial. His essence flowed out of his physical body and into the seal, slowly turning it from blood red, to bright gold.

When the last of Margil's essence had left his body, the seal sent up a bright flash of light, too bright to look at directly, so I had to close my eyes and turn my head for a moment.

When I opened my eyes, the seal had been changed. It no longer resembled a pool of blood. It was now a shiny golden circle on the ground with a bright red hand print in the middle and strange markings running around the outside edge.

Margil thrashed and howled, but he had faded to a ghostly outline – no solidity or color. He was now a silent ghost, bound to this spot for eternity – or until someone sacrificed me on the seal.

The immediate threat of Margil taken care of, I rushed to Rhys' side where he lay collapsed on the ground. Shing was already there, attempting to revive him.

"What happened?" I asked. "I saw him fall, but I didn't see what Margil did."

Shing paused in his attempts at reviving Rhys. "I saw nothing done that would cause this."

I sat down beside Rhys and pulled him into my arms, willing him to wake up and open his eyes. He would wake up. I refused to allow anything else.

I was vaguely aware of Margil circling around us, roaring silently and making threatening movements, but I completely ignored him and focused on Rhys.

Who was looking at me.

Relief flooded through me. I leaned over and kissed him hard, thankful he was ok.