Dusk Falling (Book 1) (51 page)

The Hunters eyes traveled to Genlo- or at least they appeared to, judging by the turn of his outlandish hat. “Nothing is more important than the Hunt. You know that. It is not for you to make the decision.
We do not do that
.”
He seemed a little surprised over his outburst of temper but quickly reined it in, smoothly down his tunic with a gloved hand. Jely giggled. “But alas, even this is not something for a Hunter to decide on. We have a mission.”

“Why here? How did you know we’d be here of all places?” Serrtin asked, buying some time for… for something. She needed to think fast. Up. Down. Both would make them running targets on the worst of footings.

“We paid visits to your contacts. Followed your path. You lost us for a little while but given the direction you were taken, we knew you would inevitably end up in Thabinthira- of all places. In Zarhethe there is only one safe entry into these hell-lands so we just waited.”

“Days! Weeks, maybe!” Jelantha piped up, her high voice pitched in sudden anger. “I hate this place. Don’t I, Owl? I hate it.”

“Yes indeed. Though it really isn’t any of my business, I find myself wondering why. Why Thabinthira? Did you think to escape your warrant by fleeing… into a land of tainted magics and demons?”

“We aren’t fleeing.” Aya said, voice sounding calm.

“That isn’t how it loo-”

“Enough talking! I’m tired of all this waiting!” Jely shouted, startling Owl and the mysterious other to take a step sideways. The small woman gained her feet, giving view to what she had been hugging. If her cohort possessed a light crossbow, the one she held was siege-grade. It looked to need a some sort of positioning stand but the Hunter expertly held the heavy weapon steady. With a whooping holler, she fired the missile, overbalanced and fell on her rear.

Owl sighed. Bowing his head and clutching the rim of his hat in preparation of what was to come. The team had no time to react but the bolt didn’t seem to be aimed at anyone in particular. Even a little low.

When the bolt hit the cliff wall, it set off an explosion that reverberated around the cliff-side and set to flight a flock of misshapen feathered creatures from within the closest marsh. The rock pathway blew apart under their feet, sending chunks soaring. The sound was deafening. One chunk hit Serrtin clean in the temple knocking the giant warrior into Genlo, potentially saving her life. Another chunk struck Aya in the lower leg, when she instinctively bent to clutch the injury, the path below her shifted. The crumbling precipice loomed.

The mage’s mind blanked as the dust-filled air closed in, as the view of… nothing… filled her eyes.

A sudden weight slammed into her, knocking her back to what was left of the path. She couldn’t catch her breath but she forced her eyes to focus on what had hit her. The rubble was clearing, falling. And down with it fell a gray figure, blurred with debris. “Agemeer!!!”

“There is nothing I can do for you here. If you live, I will seek you out.” Avarice said, frowning sharply as he pulled his engulfing cloak closer around him. His child’s face was coated in dirt.

The disorientation Serrtin felt after being hit by an errant stone was quickly replaced. Before he could blink out of existence, the Yarcka gave a shout. She grabbed non-responsive mage’s arm and Genlo by the front of his shirt. Shoving the trethen in front of her, the warrior latched on to the Godling. Abruptly, they were all gone.

“You,” Avarice said in a dark tone, glaring at them. “really should not have done that. You have just advertised your entire lives as well as all your families’ and ancestors’ to anyone who happens to be watching. For your sake, you best hope none takes an interest in your lifeline from now on.”

All around them, the astral winds blew wildly, changing direction instantaneously. The ‘sky’ was multi-colored and like the winds, it fluctuated. The sensations were maddening, nauseating.

“This is… the astral plane?” Genlo breathed, feeling a burgeoning headache come on as he looked about.

“It is. This is the space between realms, a conduit.” Avarice replied.

Aya had yet to rise to her feet. “Take us back. Take us back to where we were.” Her voice numbed.

Serrtin looked down at her friend with compassion and regret in her brown eyes. The loss of her friend hurt deep inside but right then, she had to be strong. Strong for her team. She wiped the stream of blood from her temple. “Are they still there?”

“They have not left.”

Shutting her eyes against the changing colors of the sky, the Yarcka sighed. “Then take us back. We’ll confront them. Now. Before we continue on.”

“That is not advisable.” The Godling replied.

“Unforeseen difficulties?” Genlo wheedled. “Something not going according to plan?” He didn’t wait for a reply before turning to the crumpled figure of the Bren mage. “When we return, do not interfere. Understand?”

Her expression still of one coming to grips with reality, she tipped up her pale face and met his steely gaze. She gave a short nod.

“Take us back, Godling.” Still meeting the shale gray eyes of the young Deity, the background around them altered. The broken cliff-side pathway, the residual dust, the smell of the tainted ground waters was suddenly there and Genlo was gone. It took only a moment for him to locate the three Hunters; he charged Owl with claws out.

Proof to his renowned skill, even dealing with an unexpected attack seemingly out of nowhere, Owl brandished his sword in time to keep from being impaled. Baanathso sang with each blocked attack.

But where the Hunter possessed skill borne of years of practice and experience the same as Genlo, the trethen was not just a fighter he was also a mage. And, while Owl fought with honor and integrity, Genlo did not. He wove shadow spheres into his attacks to force his opponent into providing openings.

Swiping upward with his claws, when Owl predictably block with his sword crossed in front of him, Genlo launched a sphere into the blade. It caused a small blast just enough to knock the Hunter back a step. Two swipes later, the Jrahda-trethen did the same, once more sending the Hunter back several steps in defense. Sliced several times on his chest and arms, once on the jaw, Owl was fairing better than Genlo assumed the swordsman would but not well enough. He slashed out toward the man’s jaw, fast but without conviction. Owl blocked and Genlo dropped low, delivering a sharp kick to the Hunters left knee cap. The hunter gasped, biting down on the pain without crying out.

Owl stumbled back, partially dropping Baanathso and Genlo had the opening he needed.

He was ready to ruthlessly drive his hand through the Hunters chest when he saw something coming for him out of the corner of his eye. He dove to the side, narrowly missing having his head caved in by a long-haft mace.

“Get away from him, you demon!” Jely roared. She pivoted, following through with the weapons heavy weight then let fly. Were Genlo not blessed with Elven grace, the tides would have been turned in that instant. The trethen leapt back and turned his defensive retreat into an offensive with an array of shadow spheres, chasing Jelantha away so he could turn his attention back to the injured swordsman.

“Aya,” Serrtin said softly. “He’s going to kill them.”

The mage did not respond. She stood woodenly, eyes masked by her dark hair.

Owl couldn’t stand, his knee was either badly sprained or busted entirely, but he was not about to give up while still conscious. The pain was dulling his abilities; he couldn’t keep his sword up. Genlo wasn’t toying with him any longer, he was going to end it.

“Aya…” Serrtin put a clawed hand on her friends shoulder, bending to see past the raven hair. “Are you listening to me? I don’t like Owl and his stupid hat- Jely either for that matter- but this isn’t right.”

When the mage replied, her voice was barely above a whisper. And as cold as Serrtin had ever heard it. “I don’t care. They killed Agemeer.”

The Yarcka swallowed, scaly brow furrowed.

Jelantha wasn’t off balance for long, she pulled a pair of dirks from under her cloak and launched herself at the back of her enemy. The small woman snarled and foamed, her eyes bright with madness. Genlo easily caught her wrist as she thrust out one of her dirks, tossing her like a sack into the sword of her cohort. She slammed into the flat and both Hunters went down. The white-haired Jrahda-trethen stood over them, expression ominous as dark energy began to writhe and swirl around his hands.

“We have to stop this. He can’t do this.” Serrtin took a step forward only to be stopped by Aya.

“He said not to interfere.”

“I don’t give a damn what he said.
You think Agemeer would want this
?” Serrtin barked. That got through. The mage’s eyes cleared, widened. As if she suddenly was awakened from a deep sleep, she looked beyond to where Genlo stood over the pair of Hunters. The his hands were glowing with a dangerous shadow, one steadily getting larger. He was fully intending to kill them both. “Aya, stop him.”

Genlo began to raise his hands. Owl was crumpled, clutching his knee. Jely had fallen directly on him, slicing her hands on his swords edge. The shadow magics swirled, pulling in the surrounding shadows then… was gone. The trethen gave a slight convulsion, backing up with a snarl but it wasn’t him nor Aya who was to speak next. It was the mysterious woman who had accompanied Owl and Jelantha. “Do not interfere!” She screeched.

Even the pair of injured Hunters gave pause. Iim’s dark hair stood out wildly, her arms no longer crossed over her but straight at her sides with fingers crooked. Her dark eyes blazed with a manic light. “He must die! Abomination! Murderer!”

“Who are you?” Genlo asked, grousing over the still-effective Seal spell. He kept a sharp eye on the two Hunters.

“You don’t even remember? You don’t remember!” The woman shouted, a frothy giggle bubbling up from her throat. “You killed them. My partners- my brother and his wife- their lives snuffed out like it was nothing and you don’t even remember. Disgusting vile creature, why should I even have expected better. They were right.”

“They who?”

Another throaty giggle. “These ones you remember. You’ll never forget. Nor will they.”

“Iim, what are you sayin’?” Jely asked, wrapping her hands in her cloak to halt the bleeding.

The woman named Iim smiled. “My partners were Hunters as well- killed by this vermin without remorse. I made a deal in order to see this monster put down. Once I give the signal, the-” She did not get to finish her threat. The summoned Astrala leapt at her in eerie hush. Its long arms snatched up her pale neck and with a flick of an almost graceful wrist, it silenced her forever. Iim’s body fell to the ground in a puff of dust. Soft hoots accompanied the being back into the shadows.

Eyes went to Avarice, who had remained secluded and unremarked through the entire scuffle from start to near-finish. The boy had pulled up the hood of his cloak hiding his expression. “We do not need further obstruction.” He said. “Our time is not infinite.”

Though his amber eyes were on Aya, he spoke to the two Hunters. “I don’t care who you are or what your mission is, you will leave. Now. And not attempt to find us again. This… does not concern you. If you follow us,” He turned to encompass them fully. “I will kill you.”

Jely pulled Owl to his feet, amazingly his bizarre pointed hat was still on his head. The man gritted his teeth, face bathed in sweat. “Serrtin. Aya.” The Hunter gasped out as his companion non-too-gently yanked his arm up over her slight shoulders. “I don’t understand any of this but… it must be worth it. Whatever it is. I wasn’t aware of Iim’s involvement. She was the one who led us here.” The pair began to make their way to the broken pathway, willing to hope the path was not beyond use. “And, for what it’s worth… I am sorry.”

The grief hit her like a fist to the heart. Aya searched for the body of her fallen friend, finding his gray furred form amongst the rubble and rock of the broken cliff-side. She moved to him, tears flowing freely. Reaching out her hand to the battered form, the mage knew the scholar was gone. The Wulf however was not. He whimpered softly, no longer feeling the pain from his mortal injuries but the pain of loss hit him nonetheless. His thoughts were scattered, he couldn’t focus enough for words but he could project his feelings. Through the contact of the loving hand atop his head, the Wulf told her what he had done.

He couldn’t bear the thought of putting the gentle scholar through death again so he released him before his body impacted on the ground. Agemeer was gone. He knew no more pain. The Wulf expressed his deepest sympathy and hope that the mage would understand why he had to deny her her parting words.

With agonizing slowness, the giant Wulf forced his legs up under him. His hind leg drug behind him as he limped with dignity toward to marshland. He would find a quiet place to make his final resting; he would die in solitude. The Wulf’s journey was finally over. He would now rest.

Aye sunk to her knees in the dirt and debris. “
‘Not everything ends the way we would like it to’
,” She said softly to herself, “‘
Aya dear…’
”

Chapter 36

“Avarice, bring him back. Bring back Agemeer.” Serrtin said, vision blurry as she watched the gray form disappear into the foliage of the small marsh.

“No. I cannot.”

“Why? You’re a God, are you not? It’s within your powers.”

“Do not seek to lecture me on what is within my powers to do. You would have me challenge the Death Bringer herself?” The boy’s voice was tinged with incredulity.

“Agemeer is gone.” Aya said, rising to her feet. “The Wulf let him go on first.” Serrtin enveloped the mage in an engulfing hug, held her while she sniffled and sobbed. The Yarcka wasn’t good with words so she just listened and nodded to what Aya told her. Several minutes past and Aya wiped her eyes and stepped away from her companion. Her dark red-rimmed eyes sought out Genlo. The trethen stood nearby but not close. There was a moment Serrtin was positive she might… but no.

~ ~ ~

Eventually they set off again, heading east as before. No words were spoken. They avoided the marshes. At one point they saw tracks in the reddish dirt, lone steps leading off into the hills. There was not much wildlife to be seen or at least not much that wished to be seen. The wild blew in surges, bringing with it the strange smells of a land of tainted magic.