Dusk Falling (Book 1) (24 page)

The Elfkin did not respond, he simply watched the mage with an unreadable expression.

“Maybe,” Agemeer ventured. “Were we to stage an escape…”

“Mmm! They let you out of the sphere so what’s keeping you here?” Serrtin and Agemeer followed his nod toward the only doorway. A single man sat perched atop a stool. His arms and legs were crossed, his eyes closed. His expression was neutral under locks of iron gray hair. The sentry wore no armor but dark unremarkable clothing, a band around his forehead.

“Watch and you’ll see why I haven’t tried anything yet.” Genlo responded. “Wake the girl.” At the puzzled look from Serrtin, he snapped, “The Seal spell is still active in case you’ve forgotten. I’ll need the girl to release it, if you wish to see what’s keeping me here.”

Gently, Serrtin shook the mage, repeating the Bren’s name over and over. Lightly she tapped her cheek but to no avail. Aya did not stir. The wound above her breastplate wept blood and pale fluid, the angry red gashes having not healed over much despite time. Whatever poison Xiethes had used was keeping it open. “It’s no use. She won’t wake.”

“Well, then, that’s that.” Genlo said with a scratch under his collar. “I guess we’ll just wait and see if that spell holds after she expires.”

Serrtin was about to explode in angry protest, to rant and rave, but instead her legs gave out and she knelt beside her friend in sorrow. Agemeer paced close, head and tail down dejectedly. “This can’t be how it ends… Not like this. Gah!” The Yarcka stormed over to the cell door, rattling it fiercely. “You, by the door! Let us out of here!” She got no response, inciting a long tirade of acidic swears punctuated by the pounding of fists on metal bars.

“He’s deaf, you know.” Genlo spoke offhandedly. “Negators usually are.”

“Negator?” Agemeer asked.

“A type of mage.” Genlo said, amber eyes sliding over to the man by the doorwell. “They can monitor the energies of a being and know if a spell is going to be used. A negator can then blank out those energies to halt the spell. They’re usually deaf but sometimes they can be mute and blind as well. Fairly effective from what I’ve heard.”

“Who cares about that?!”

“I already know my fate. Want to know yours?” The youth said, growing weary of the saurian’s weakness.

To everyone’s surprise, Serrtin calmed. She leaned her back to the bars and stared half-lidded at the floor of the cell. “What if I know of a poison… could you tell me what to do with it…?”

“…I guess.” Genlo said, with misgivings.

“You’re sure it will work?”

“No. Worked on me. I would show the scar but it’s not very appropriate. Xiethes wasn’t to be underestimated even in our first battle.”

“But it worked on you…” Serrtin remarked thoughtfully. “What kind of poison was it you used?”

Genlo shrugged. “How the hell should I know? Came outta some Youkai.”

“Fine. That should work.”

“What should work? What are you talking about? My blood is not poisonous if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Serrtin sniped back. Rubbing her forehead below her skull helmet, she debated with herself before speaking. The Yarcka sighed. “There is a secret all Yarcka know that no Yarcka is supposed to ever admit. It’s an unspoken exception to our culture of never hiding anything. To discuss it with anyone is considered… punishable.”

Intrigued despite himself, Genlo stood and moved to stand beside the bars in between their jail cells. Agemeer waiting still and silent, all ears.

“I do not want to say it but if it will save Aya’s life then I will.” The Yarcka said, not liking that fact one bit. “It’s not written in any books nor known to many outside our race. It’s our one secret. Yarcka are poisonous, like snakes we are all born with specialized glands in the backs of our throats.

“The reason we don’t tell anyone of this and kill those who inadvertently find out is due predominantly to the fact that we are not completely immune to it ourselves. That knowledge could be bred to become our downfall.”

“Yarcka, poison glands- it’s all an impressive arcanum! Such a secret to be kept for so many years without fail. I feel honored and humbled both to hear of such a thing!”

“Agemeer…” Serrtin warned softly.

“And how can that be used as a downfall to a whole race?” Genlo asked.

“A shot to the neck.” She demonstrated with her fist. “Could cause the poison to seep out without the Yarcka’s control. Swallowing a mouthful could be deadly- disabling to be sure.”

“Interesting.” Genlo remarked with a solid stare to the saurian, who returned it as she reminded herself, should they ever get out of this, not to turn her back on that one.

~ ~ ~

It took time but no one except the negator was in the room. No one interrupted or came in to check on them. That could be taken as a good or an ill sign depending. The negator did not move to stop them but he was now watchful, having sensed the change in energies though it had nothing to do with spellwork.

Their hearts raced as Serrtin carefully dabbed the clearish-green secretion onto the wounds across Aya’s chest. It was luck the mage had armor on to begin with for many mage’s did not bother. She did only because of their line of work and only on the vital area of the chest.

It had taken several minutes for Serrtin to come up with enough to use. She kept her back to Genlo and even Agemeer as she coerced the vile liquid out into her less-than-clean hand. She apologized to the young Bren for that. It tasted as bad as she thought it would, the poison gland was mostly vestigial and something she never had to use in the past. The girl did not react to the application, for that Serrtin was grateful.

Half an hour passed by. A single woman came in bringing cups of water and four slices of oatbread. She spoke not a word as she sat down the plates and cups before leaving.

Genlo was calm enough to take a nap but Serrtin paced. The old scholar sat patiently, one eye on each of his dear friends.

Another half an hour saw Aya’s fever break and her breathing become regular. The girl opened her eyes. Slowly she sat up, feeling drained. She looked into Agemeer and Serrtin’s faces and knew without a doubt she’d been through some ordeal and come out on top. Much to their evident relief. She felt the wound on her chest with a wince. Pulling at the cloth she had around her belt, she ripped off the bottom and fashioned a makeshift bandage. The girl was entirely too calm then she suddenly jerked like coming out of a dream. “Where are we? What happened?”

“While you were taking a nap, your idiotic friends fell into the same trap you set for me.” Genlo stated, causing the mage to start.

“Genlo! You’re okay!”

“Glad you noticed.” He replied sarcastically.

“Trap? What trap?”

“You tell me. It was your plan to turn me in to ‘supposedly’ catch the ones who put out the bounty.” The Jrahda-trethen said, getting to his feet. “This is their hold.”

Aya’s mouth formed an ‘O’, her eyes searching the cells to rest on the negator. She nodded towards him.

“Genlo stated the individual is a negator.” Agemeer said.

Aya tested the theory for her own and found the truth in it. Her energies simply wouldn’t focus. It was an aggravating sense of feeling. It was not like having her powers sealed- she could feel them so close at hand- she simply couldn’t access them. “So, the Verca…”

“They aren’t.”

“What?” Cried the three.

“They’re not the Verca.”

“You’re sure? But how? And why? Then who?” Aya said, one thought right after the other.

“It’s really annoying when you do that.” The Elfkin said, putting his back to the bars and to the team.

“How do you know they aren’t the Verca? No one’s been in here since we got here.” Serrtin said.

“I
think
I would
know
.” He spat over his shoulder. When he turned his head back, he said, “For one, they would’ve set upon me the moment I got back- they’ve most likely worked up a good black rage over the time I’ve wasted them- yet all I’ve seen is that negator. They wouldn’t have put you in a cell beside me either. They would have suspected some sort of alliance at work between us so they would have simply slit your throats. This place doesn’t have the malignant stench of the Verca’s lair- the overpowering… depression that weighs down the shoulders…”

Aya gave up her scalded pout in light of his realism. If the ones who set the bounty were not the Verca, then who were they? The things the Larren at the Circuit Hold had said, the things Xiethes had said about not seeing the total picture, it came back to her.

“This is a fine bowl of Greobes.” Serrtin griped, plopping down on the floor. “Just tell us who-”

“Niredes Votalo.” Came a voice from the top of the stairs through the open door well. Footsteps preceded the man. “Of course we are not the Verca cas Nemun Uralsk. I am sorry if my men gave you the impression we were.”

In stepped a half-Elf. He was tall, a little over three meters in height. Obviously partly Elven, he looked more Larren than his latter parentage. His hair was sandy blonde, feathery and brushed back from a widow’s peak. One eyebrow was pierced with a small silver ring. The chest armor he wore was of sturdy unmarred leather over earthy shades of brown, green and tan. “Please forgive my tardiness. I was… withheld.”

“Are you… the one they called
Kassar
?” Serrtin asked, deigning to remain sitting.

“Kassar is but a title and, yes, that I am. My name is Crosshilt, I am the leader and co-founder of the Niredes Votalo.” The trethen said amicably. “I am sure you are most interested in hearing why you were brought here. But before that, two things. First, I would like to compliment the maker of the Seal spell- quite ingenious work. It has helped us considerably. I had been worried that Jrellin and his party wouldn’t be enough. Second, may I get you anything- food, drink?”

Genlo snorted, pushing away from the bars. “Why the hell not.” At the expressions he garnered, he exploded. “What? Every since your damn Asrai put this damn spell on me, I’ve been nothing but hungry!”

Crosshilt chuckled. “And do not worry. I’ve no intention of poisoning any of you. I’ll have some food brought to you then I will return.”

At the mention of poison, Serrtin’s stomach clenched. Her vision blurred momentarily and the vertigo made her glad she still sat.

~ ~ ~

Crosshilt made good on his word. Cold ale, tender meats, chunks of soft bread and a single bowl of stewed vegetables with potato bits was brought to the jail cells. The stew came with an apology that the single bowl was all that was left.

The girls who brought the foodstuffs were shy but interested nonetheless in the strangers. Mostly so in Genlo, who did not at all like the covert glances aimed at him. As soon as the two were gone however, he forgot his ill-temper in the bowl of tepid stew. The others were in no mood for eating so the Elfkin downed their portions as well. Aya did take a sip of the cold ale, her throat feeling immensely dry.

Crosshilt did not return for close to an hour- leaving the foursome to sit in relative silence after all the plates were cleaned. Agemeer filled Aya in telepathically on all he knew after she had gone unconscious, including the odd occurrence involving the water sprites, though he could only speculate on their current location.

The Kassar returned, expression preoccupied. He spoke to the negator in hushed tones- the deaf man reading his lips- before turning to the prisoners. “I’m worried that I do not have enough time to adequately assuage your concerns. We must be constantly in vigilance against the actions of Verca cas Nemun Uralsk. Their wiles know
no bounds. It seems they may have caught our scent. Jrellin’s scouts have brought reports of Verca soldiers within… the area.” Crosshilt declined to state his lairs exact whereabouts or how close the soldiers really were.

“That Xiethes,” Serrtin said. “He told them.”

“Xiethes?” Crosshilt inquired.

“A Youkai. Works for the Verca.”

“Aah.” The trethen said with a nod, mentally filing away the information to share with his captain. Jrellin had wanted to interrogate the prisoners, find out all they knew and had protested when Crosshilt said he would be the one to speak with them. Jrellin had fretted that his leader might reveal too much in his effort to prove he was correct. It was the Kassar’s prerogative- he did not like violence, condoning it only because in his heart he believed only they could stop the impending darkness. “Here, this is yours.” He took something from his pocket and tossed it to Serrtin. “I had to make sure it was not enchanted.”

It was Kcrienalpralopar’s flask. It was empty. Serrtin swallowed. “What happened to… the contents?”

“There wasn’t any.” He responded. “Was it of import?”

The saurian considered the matter carefully before shaking her head negative. A look passed between the team. Where was Kcrie? How long had she been gone?

If Crosshilt suspected something he did not let on. “I think I shall start by telling you about the Verca and Niredes Votalo’s relationship. You’ve all been caught in a web that has been weaved by two spiders intent on undoing each others woven portion. It was my dear friend May and I who are the founders of this organization. It was May who first learned of the plot the Verca were developing. We two infiltrated the sect early on to learn the plot we came across being beyond what we could ever have expected- an avatarism that would bring about the destruction of all of Lisaria. May and I could not gain the ear of Western Demaria to rally together an offensive, no one believed there was a significant threat. We tried to destroy it from the inside, seed mistrust and fear, even attempt the life of the one they built their faith on.” Crosshilt bowed his forehead to Genlo. “Alas, we failed in that but we steadily gained followers in our mission. Slowly, one at a time, people came to us and we built a sect to rival the Verca.

“We named ourselves Niredes Votalo, Eternal Light, as homage to the Light of Selnaria we hoped never to go out. May and I focused on a new plan, one we felt had to succeed. We sent out spies to keep track of their
movements. Eventually you made your move much to our unexpected surprise and we set our plan into motion. We hired bounty hunters from the renowned Circuit to run the
Yashvre
to hole.”