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Authors: Steve McHugh

Tags: #C429, #Extratorrents, #Kat

Born of Hatred (30 page)

BOOK: Born of Hatred
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Captain Waltham crashed into the hard ground and was immediately surrounded by husks, eager to be fed once more. Tala landed awkwardly, rolling toward the centre of the courtyard. But at least she was free of Waltham's grip, as the barren began to tear into him. The sounds of torn flesh and crunching bone accompanied his screams as they filled the night. 

"Two minutes," I said to Sky, as I climbed onto the sill. "You make sure that entrance to the underground room is open in two minutes."

Sky glanced behind her, as glass smashed downstairs. "Looks like I have a few barren of my own to deal with," she said. "You'd better make it ten." 

I dropped from the window to the ground outside, using air magic to knock a nearby barren from his feet. I sprinted toward Tala who was being surrounded by barren. She’d grabbed a cavalry sabre and was waving it toward her advancing attackers. Captain Waltham's screams had gone silent, but the barren around him were still deep in feeding. It hadn't been a good death, but I couldn't bring myself to feel sorrow for his fate. He'd brought it on himself.

Tala kicked out at a nearby barren, driving it back slightly, but they'd smelled a fresh meal and wouldn't be so easily dissuaded. A blast of air magic caused three barren to tumble away, arms and legs flailing; it would have been comical if they weren't covered in the blood of their previous victims. 

I knelt beside Tala. "Can you get to that door over there?" She followed my hand as I pointed toward the main entrance to the safe room, fifty yards away.

Tala shook her head. "I hurt my foot."

I didn't have time to examine her injuries and deal with the quickly encircling barren. "Ten minutes might be a problem," I said mostly to myself. 

"I don't want to die here," Tala said softly.

"Me neither," I assured her. "Tala I need you to crouch down and close your eyes until I tell you otherwise. Can you do that?"

Tala nodded and quickly assumed the position, her hands tightly over her eyes. 

I drew a throwing knife from its home on my belt, and waited until one of the barren had gotten just close enough. I sliced through one of my palms, slapped my hands together and then slammed them into the dirty ground. The effect was immediate. The earth cracked open slightly and fire exploded upwards until it had made a complete circle all around Tala and me. 

"You can open your eyes now," I said, my hands pressed firmly into the ground. "Try not to touch the fire."

Tala opened her eyes wide, a mixture of wonder and fear flickering through them. "How?" she whispered.

"Magic." The orange fire glyphs and the black glyphs of blood magic swirled around one another. "But it takes a lot to use this much."

Dozens of barren waited just outside the fire's reach, but something inside them needed to get to us, and no danger was too great. They began walking into the fire one at a time, only to become completely incinerated before they'd taken more than a step. The circle of flame was a yard thick in places, ensuring that nothing could get through unscathed. But every time a barren died in the fire, it took more power from me to maintain the integrity of our only means of surviving until that door was opened. 

"Are you okay?" Tala asked, after what felt like a lifetime of pouring a huge amount of magic out of me.

I nodded slowly, but daren't speak lest my concentration wavered for even a second. Which is all it would take for Tala and me to be overrun. I knew I couldn't keep it up; using such a strong magic for any longer than a few minutes, four or five at the most, took a tremendous toll on a sorcerer. I doubted more than three minutes had passed, and I was already forcing myself not to give up, despite how my body was aching for me to stop. A fifth and sixth barren hurled themselves at the fire, and I a felt a cold bead of sweat run down my neck.

"You need me,"
a voice said from deep inside.

"No," I whispered. "I don't."

"You need to let me free. You need to give yourself over to me. Otherwise you and the girl will die." 

I hated that it spoke the truth. "I will not give myself over to you."

The voice almost seemed to sigh.
"I wonder if all sorcerers are as stupid as you. I am the living embodiment of the magic inside you, and I need you to continue to exist. I wish you no harm. Do we really need to have this conversation again?"
 

It had a point. My whole life, I'd been told that giving into the magic would turn a sorcerer into a nightmare, a being of unparalleled power and evil, in equal measure. When I used too much magic for too long, the voice came to me, begging for me to embrace it, to allow us to become one.

"I know what you're thinking, but I can't merge fully with you. Those marks on your chest make it impossible."

"You'll make sure that Tala gets to safety."

"Of course, I'm not a monster. No matter what you may think."

"Deal then." I braced myself, and expelled as much magic into the wall of fire as I could manage, until I felt myself slipping, until I could no longer stop myself and it became second nature to allow the magic to flow freely for as long as it wanted. Until I began to feel like I was a passenger in my own body. Until the nightmare inside of me had taken control. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 26

 

 

 

I looked out through eyes that were my own, but no longer in my use. It was my turn to be a silent partner as the nightmare took control. 

Tala sat next to me, making a noise akin to a whimper. The nightmare stared down at her and I felt it wondering why it should help her survive. Why it should use precious resources to help her flee. And then it remembers that I told it to. That it was part of our bargain.

"Child," the nightmare said after a few seconds. The voice was my own, but different—the speech was all wrong, as if the words weren't used to being spoken out loud. 

Tala glanced up at me, and recoiled slightly when she saw my eyes. I knew what they must look like—blackness spilling out from them, covering my face from my forehead to my mouth, with little patches of pink showing through, the only evidence of my waning influence. 

"Child," the nightmare repeated to her. "When I say go, you will run to that door and hammer on it for all you're worth. Tell them Nathan sent you."

"I can't run."

"Then you will die," the nightmare explained. The nightmare placed one of my hands on Tala's leg, and the orange glyphs on that arm turned to turn to black as my blood magic did its work. "I have healed your foot as much as possible under the circumstances. You can run for now. I suggest that when I tell you to go, you use that ability."

Tala nodded.

The nightmare placed my hand onto the ground once more, and the glyphs returned to orange. It inhaled deeply and the glyphs ignited with a pure brilliance.  And then the fire wall exploded outward.

Anything beside the billowing flame died instantly. The force of the explosion was so great, that even those who weren't close enough to feel its full force were still taken from their feet and thrown onto the ground a few yards back. 

The nightmare stood and stared down at Tala. "Run."

Tala wasted no time, sprinted like her life depended on it, racing to the door and hammering on it while screaming my name. Eventually it was opened and a nervous Sergeant Roberts emerged, dragging the girl inside. He glanced over at the nightmare, and paused before he darted back inside, closing the door behind him. 

There was a heartbeat of silence. Nothing moved. The barrens that were still on their feet appeared to be disorientated by the fact that they were no longer faced with an obstacle to their food.

Nightmares were an extension of the sorcerer's true ability. They showed what you were capable of. It was why inviting them into your psyche was so inviting. The one inside me wielded my own magic with an ease and power that was breath-taking. It moved with speed and grace, flinging wind and fire magic at anything that moved. It cleaved barrens as if they were the stalks of flowers. Bodies fell all around it in piles, but no matter what it did, the barrens kept coming, driven by something far more dangerous than a desire to survive—it was the need to feed, to tear into living flesh. It overrode any sense of self-preservation. And the nightmare was more than happy to help them on their way. 

The nightmare darted into the stables. Two barrens were already on the floor, their heads pounded to mush as the horses kicked and fought against their would-be attackers. A young boy, pitchfork in hand, stood in front of Valour's stall, holding off the three remaining barrens. 

None of them saw the nightmare until it was too late. It slammed my open palm into the back of the nearest one and unleashed a blast of air which blew out the entire front of its torso. Body parts landed on the straw-covered ground with a splat, but the nightmare had already moved on to the second barren, which was decapitated by a blade of hardened air. The last barren, intent on getting to the stable boy, hadn't even paid attention to what was happening until that same blade punctured through its back and moved upward, exiting through its neck. 

The boy, now covered in black, barren blood, stared at his saviour. 

"Take care of the horse," the nightmare said. "You should wash before that blood starts to infect anything."

The boy nodded, as the nightmare stepped back out onto the courtyard. A gust of magically enhanced wind picked up one barren and drove it into the fort's wooden entrance. The barren and gate disintegrated upon impact, blood and pieces of wood smeared across the ground and walls. 

The nightmare took a step toward the exit and stopped. A noise sounded from out of the darkness beyond the ruined gate. As one, the remaining barrens stopped fighting, and ran through the shattered gate, into the darkness. 

In their place stepped a large man. He wore a long, flowing duster that covered everything except for his cowboy boots and hat. His eyes burned red. 

This was the monster that had nearly killed Sam. 

"Do you know what I am?" the newcomer asked.

"Lich," the nightmare said. "Evil."

The lich laughed, and I was almost certain that if I'd been in control of my body, I would have shivered. "Says the thing everyone is terrified of becoming."

The nightmare remained silent.

"Do you plan on fighting me?" the lich asked.

"No," it said. "I plan on killing you." A torrent of fire and air shot from the palms of the nightmare and engulfed the lich, who didn't even try to defend itself. The outline of the lich was lost somewhere inside the maelstrom of fire and wind, but once it was over and the magic subsided, the lich was still standing where he'd been. The only evidence that anything had happened was that his clothes were burnt, and his hat gone, showing a bald head.

"Interesting," the lich said. "Your host has a great deal of power."

"Yes, he does," the nightmare responded. "Allow me to show you more of it." My body went from stationary to sprinting in a heartbeat. It slammed a fire wrapped fist into the jaw of the lich which moved slightly. The lich laughed, and I felt cold horror dawn over the nightmare. "
I can't win this."

It was the last thing the nightmare thought before the lich punched it in the stomach, lifting it off the ground by several feet, and then grabbed it by the throat before it could fall. "You stupid little sorcerer," the lich said. "You can't defeat me with magic." It brought my body close to it, and then head-butted me on the nose, before releasing me and following up with a punch which broke my jaw. 

The nightmare tried to get off the ground, but the lich was relentless, raining blows that would have killed a human. Every time the nightmare tried to fight back, the lich was faster and stronger. It smashed the nightmare head first into the nearest building, and then dragged it back out of the destroyed brick work by my ankle, only to begin kicking my body in the side. Every blow did damage, and I knew that it could kill me anytime it chose.

"So," the lich said, holding my head up by the hair. "That's a broken nose, jaw, orbital bone, clavicle and several ribs."

The nightmare tried to see through the damaged eye, which was bloody and swollen, but gave up and settled for just one working eye as sunlight began to stream over the tops of the mountains in the distance.

The lich glanced over at the same mountains. "It appears I have to leave," he said with much disappointment. "We'll have to continue this another time."

The nightmare gurgled something unintelligible and received a punch to the solar plexus, which made me cough up blood and then I was dropped to the ground as the lich left the fort. 

In fifteen minutes, my body, and the nightmare's use of it, had been utterly destroyed by something that couldn't even be hurt, much less killed. For the first time in a long time, I feared for my life. My final feeling as the nightmare retreated back inside me, and I slipped back into my own body, was of wracking pain. But before I passed out, the nightmare had one last thing to say. 

"I'm so sorry."

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 27

 

 

 

The nightmare's words sprang to the forefront of my mind as I woke.
I'm so sorry
. Nightmares were meant to be evil, to tempt you into allowing the magic to run free. Sometimes it was hard to remember that.

The thought was quickly replaced by the sight of the tip of a blade close to my throat. "What are you?" Sky asked from the less dangerous end of the dagger.

"You're going to have to be little more specific," I said. "I still feel somewhat groggy."

"I saw that nightmare take over your body. And I saw it vanish after the lich attacked it. Once a nightmare takes control, it doesn't just stop and allow the host back in." She moved the dagger down to my chest, the tip hovering over my heart. "And I saw the marks on your body. Blood magic curse."

BOOK: Born of Hatred
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