Dusk Falling (Book 1) (25 page)

The term the Verca used in replace of a name made Genlo’s stomach turn and his face reflected his displeasure.

“You said ‘spies’.” Agemeer said, rising and pacing forward so the Niredes Votalo leader knew it was he who spoke. “We have reason to think the Verca are aware of your spies within their ranks.”

“How’s this?” Crosshilt asked, very serious, giving them a glimmer into the real leader of the sect.

“Something Xiethes had said about ‘already knowing about him’.”

“Twice you have given me something to think about. I thank you. Rest assured I will inform Jrellin. We cannot afford any more loss of life.” Crosshilt did not mention the lives lost by the Gevra-Deln patrolmen but they got the feeling he was including them in his statement.

“So the men in the dark gray cloaks…?” Aya asked.

“Verca.” Was the reply.

Genlo was coming to the end of his patience. He did not care about any of it- Verca, Votalo, none of it. If they lost men- too bad. “Let’s just get to the real reason why I am here- what do you plan on doing with me? I have no intention of playing part as their sacrificial host. I don’t want to. I’d rather die and take them all with me.”

“A good thing that is,” Crosshilt said, eyes on the bars. “for we do not want that either. It is unfortunate but in order to assure such never comes about, I fear we must destroy you…”

Silence prevailed.

The Kassar did not look happy with the decision, in fact, he looked quite the opposite. In his heart, he knew it was not the boy’s fault and that killing him for something that was not his fault was wrong and merely a ‘quick fix’ to a bad situation. Jrellin, his trusted captain, had helped make the final call. “It is regrettable…”

“…Regrettable…” Genlo repeated, still off-balance. Not for long however. “Regrettable?!” He shouted. “You’re no better than they are! Thinking you know what’s best when in fact you know nothing. Would killing me put you all at ease, let you sleep at night? Would the world be a better place? Well, would it?!”

“I am truly sorry. What else is there? Stopping the Verca from enacting Dusk Falling is tantamount to everything else.”

“The many over the one…” Aya said softly, drawing all eyes to her. “By removing the object the Verca need to realize their dreams of the abolition of all life in Lisaria, the world could rest at peace. The Verca could be dealt with after.”

Genlo blank. What was this feeling suddenly stirring his insides? He felt… what was the word… betrayed? Was that right? Despite his unpleasant attitude toward her, he had not expected her to be swayed so easily so quickly. “You can try it.” He snarled. “Even with your negator, I won’t be put down like a lamed animal.”

“We’ve gone through our options. Many many times.” The trethen said. “There is just no other way.”

Serrtin was still staring at Aya, puzzled at the change in the girl’s stoic stance on the matter concerning Genlo. The saurian had been sure the Bren would tempt their own fates in order to protect the Elfkin. Crosshilt’s plan sounded right to her ears. No loopholes. Just one murder. Yet she suddenly felt the need to take up the abandoned position and argue for saving the little bastards worthless life. “What if…” She waved a taloned hand, scanning the ceiling. “He remained here?”

“What? I am not-”

“No good.” Crosshilt interrupted. “It’s only a matter of time before the Verca find our location. They’ll come for him. They are single-mindedly determined and will not stop till he is theirs again. Even if he remained of his own violation, the risk is still too great.”

“And what of us?” The mage questioned, her voice monotone.

“You will be released as long as you agree to never return nor aid our enemies. Jrellin’s men will take you a safe distance and leave you to your own ends. I cannot vouch for your future safety though, the Verca may view you as a threat thereon simply for knowing what you know.”

“And that’s it?” The saurian said.

“Though I will admit you have caused us some trouble,” The Kassar said with a smile. “We are in your debt in the end.”

“Blue Hells! We should get a reward!” Serrtin exclaimed, clapping Aya on the shoulder plate, almost dislodging the girl from the cot. Her wounds stung but had incited no reaction. “Huh, Aya?”

The Bren quietly stared into her lap, arms stiff and hands white knuckled. Her eyes were not visible.

“Aya dear? Are you alright?” Agemeer asked, concerned.

She gave a short nod but did not unstiffen her posture. They were talking again- Serrtin and the Wulf and Crosshilt but Genlo blocked out their drabble. He paced silently over to the intersecting bars, reaching out to take them in his hands. The metal was cold and harsh, felt even through the leather of his gloves. He watched the Bren girl for a moment as she sat on the wooden cot. Then he saw it.

A single tear fell down into her lap to fall upon the back of one of her hands. Surreptitiously, she wiped it away. Only Genlo had witnessed it.

Chapter 20

The Jrahda-trethen had been mulling over the idea- death at the hands of the sect opposing the Verca. He came to the conclusion that someone like him could be given worse. He deserved worse. It wouldn’t be… so bad.

Then something changed and the whole idea of just giving up made him want to retch.

Genlo watched the girl wipe her tear upon her dark-colored pants. From his vantage, he could see her eyes. It was then he knew the things she had said were faked- she had not meant a word of it. Her expression said she had been trying to make herself believe.

“Maybe there still is a chance to see your plan through to the end after all.” He thought to himself. Then, “How do you plan on doing it?” Genlo asked. “Killing me, that is.”

“It will be quick and painless, I promise.” Crosshilt said. “A knife through the heart or if you would prefer- a venom draught. You’ll fall asleep and not awaken.”

“Sounds pleasant enough.” Genlo replied. “What if I decide not to cooperate? Would you shoot me through the bars like a rabid beast while your negator makes sure my claws don’t extend beyond my reach?”

“I would hope it wouldn’t come to that.” The Kassar said, expression solemn. He was truthful.

“Far be it from me to make my death more palatable to my killers.” Genlo rejoined.

“That wouldn’t be like you at all…” Aya said in a hushed tone, laughing a little under the fall of raven black hair that covered her face from sight. The team shared a small smile, one even Genlo indulged faintly in.

Crosshilt had heard from Jrellin the occurrence in the Circuit Hold and of how the Hunters had met up with them yet again outside Mag’har- which meant the Hunters had miraculously passed by way of the Portal. They had not given up. But why? The answer was coming around. Crosshilt could see the burgeoning camaraderie even in the ill-fated Youkai. They must have gone through much to come to a place where they saw nearly eye-to-eye.

Truthfully, Crosshilt had expected worse. The Kassar had expected a foul-tempered, malignant spot of darkness- that was what May and he had seen of the Verca’s work. Foul-tempered, maybe, but that was to be forgiven under the circumstances but malignant? Crosshilt thought not. It had been several years since he had first got wind of the Jrahda-trethen’s escape. Apparently, a lot can happen in two years.

It would make his job all the more heartbreaking but Crosshilt knew he had to see it to the bitter end. He must.

For May.

“I will give you time to come to terms with what must be done.” Crosshilt said, turning away. “I will return in the morn. Please do not make me decide how to end this. Dishonoring your death is not… something May would have wanted.”

Crosshilt left. Tapping the negator on the shoulder while passing, the Larren gave a nod without moving from his chair.

“I fear the May he speaks of so fondly is no longer amongst the living.” Agemeer said, watching the blonde-haired half-Elf climb the steps and disappear from sight.

“I got that feeling too.” Serrtin said, rubbing her eyes. She wasn’t about to admit she was seeing two of everyone. “And the Verca were behind it, bet you a silver on that.”

“How do you know
I
didn’t kill her?” Genlo commented, sitting down with his back turned to the others.

“You didn’t. Crosshilt seemed genuinely unhappy with the decision to…” Aya’s words drifted off and she stopped, prompting the Elfkin to twist around to regard her, one gloved hand in the dust on the floor. She took a breath and let it out slowly, somewhat shakily. Then she blurted out an apology. “I’m sorry!”

“You’re what…?”

“I am sorry.” She said louder, meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry for all this. Sorry for my stupid plan, sorry for not finding you quicker, sorry for not being able to help my team when maybe I could have made the difference. Sorry for putting you right in the spot you didn’t want to be in- sure, it’s not the Verca but its still death that awaits you. No matter how much Crosshilt abhors the idea, his faction was designed for one thing- killing you. It might as well be all my fault…”

None of them knew how to respond so they all just stared wide-eyed at the girl. Even Genlo was hard pressed to come up with a sneer or an ill-inspired barb. He dropped her gaze first. “I should… thank you for… trying… I guess…” The Elfkin mumbled to the ground as if the niceties weren’t really supposed to be heard.

Heard it was though.

“My, my, that was unexpected.” Serrtin said, ribbing the normally taciturn trethen. How far they did come when barking became friendly badgering. “Could it be under all that sarcasm and general snotty-attitude beats an actual flesh and blood heart?”

Genlo turned back to the side. “Don’t count on it. I said thanks for trying. You still are the main cause I’m here to begin with.”

The mage weakly rose to her feet and approached the bars that separated them. “The things I said earlier to Crosshilt…”

“I know.”

Aya opened her mouth to say more then closed it. She licked her lips and tried again. “If there is a way, I’ll find it. Don’t give up just yet.” Despite her words, when she put her back to the bars, leaning, her expression did not hold much hope. The girl had not recovered entirely from Xiethes’ ruthless attack, her energy and spirits were low. “What time do you suppose it is now?”

Serrtin shrugged. “I’d be guessing fifth hour of the afternoon.”

“That doesn’t give us much time to come up with something, does it?” She slid down to the ground, turning her face away from the negator and whispered. “What if we try a simultaneous magic attack?”

“In the time it takes to begin the spell, the negator could blink it out. That’s what they do. Unless we had an army of mages in here with us, we aren’t getting out that way.”

“So, no matter the size of the spell, a negator can block it?”

“Basically.”

Aya cursed softly in her own tongue, a little surprised when she heard Genlo chuckle. She was about to remark on it when Serrtin spoke.

“Well, if magic doesn’t work then I guess it is up to me. I’ll take ’em all on even without a sword.” The saurian flexed her arm muscles.

“They aren’t likely to give you that chance.”

Serrtin dropped her arms.

~ ~ ~

Anger coursed through his veins like liquid fire. His wounds were healing over on the outside, forming ugly red scabs to protect the deeper injury. Xiethes knew even after the skin healed, he would still be sore.

The Youkai stumbled and fell hard to his knees. Breathing harsh, Xiethes remained there until he caught his breath and felt steady enough to continue.

Thoughts of revenge were foremost in his mind but he knew he had to report before he could indulge in his own pleasures. He had to reach the Gevra-Deln border, north of that accursed lake. There, he would use the communication Focus and inform Serethar of the movements of Niredes Votalo. If Serethar acted swiftly, they could eliminate two problems in one clean swoop- retrieving their wayward Yashvre as well as cutting off the head of their rivals so they could never challenge the Verca’s might again.

Serethar may even reward him.

It wouldn’t be the Yashvre he would get as his play toy but perhaps that giant saurian bitch. Yarcka were amazingly resilient. He could cut her legs off to see how long she would live before finally succumbing to blood loss. The Wulf would make a fine pelt. Xiethes did not know what he would do with the mage for such a frail creature wouldn’t last long enough to be much fun. But for several minutes, he would dearly enjoy to hear her scream.

~ ~ ~

Gartus grimly inspected the three Hunters who stood in front of him. “As sanctioned by the Bounty Circuit, dead or alive.”

The three pivoted, pacing out of the Hold. Two held eager smiles, the other wore an expression of trepidation.

“Baanathso has been waiting for this a long time.”

“And I agree with it. This is gonna be fun. Right, Iim?”

Iim, their newest addition to the team, chewed her lip. She did not know about fun. She only knew death- death of her partners at the hands of the very Chase the Hunters (now turned rogue) Aya and Serrtin had been contracted to bring in. She had never met the prodigal pair but heard glorious tales. For them to abandon their cause…
over a low-life murderer
…

Iim swallowed, trailing Owl and Jely at a slight distance. The latter was mixing a fast-footed dance in her walk, whistling like the three were merely going for a picnic on the countryside.

Evening came and went. Two girls entered with platters of warm food. A cold-faced man accompanied them with a pitcher of frothy liquid and ceramic mugs. He sat down the pitcher nearby and beat a hasty exit afterwards, not without a hard gaze to Genlo.

The girls, so similar they must have been sisters, placed their bowls and plates through the bars without speaking. Still, the shy furtive glances were beginning to grate.

The food was of a quality one might get at an inn- chops, herbed potatoes and greens. It was a little suspicious. The girls hung back, not yet leaving.

Biting down a nasty curse involving children who stare, Genlo took up a mug. He took a sip. Looking into the cup, he said. “Tell Jrellin thanks.”