The Broken Pieces (8 page)

T
hey camped two miles out from the Blood Tower, trusting the distance and the tall grass to hide their presence. They built no fires, and ate what little cold rations they’d brought. Daniel had told them all it was to keep their packs light and their travel fast, but Darius knew the truth. If they failed to take the tower, there was no reason to have any supplies for a flight. There wouldn’t be any.

As the stars slowly winked into existence, and Darius sat at the edge of the camp, occasionally praying, he saw Valessa’s approach from the west. As she walked, the tall grass passed through her legs instead of being pushed aside.

“Where have you been?” he asked her.

“About.”

She sat across from him, her arms against her chest, her body hunched over. It was odd, but she looked like she was cold.

“I’m sorry we have no fire to warm you,” he said.

“I wouldn’t feel it even if you did,” she said, and he was surprised by the casual bitterness of her words.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“Twice now you’ve apologized. Have you done something wrong?”

He shrugged.

“I guess not.”

“Then stop it.”

Darius looked away. He assumed she was nervous about the coming battle, but then again, Daniel had cautioned against such easy assumptions. Turning his attention back to her, he noticed she still wore a strange black veil over her face. It was thin and slender, and if made of a real material it’d easily tear.

“Why the veil?” he asked her on an impulse.

Valessa lowered her eyes to the ground.

“I’d rather no one look upon my face.”

Darius lifted an eyebrow.

“You’re a woman of a thousand faces. If you don’t want someone looking upon yours, then why not take the guise of another?”

She shook her head.

“You’re such a fool sometimes, Darius. I have no desire to be anyone else. I want to be myself. I want to be whoever I was when you killed me.”

“The way I remember it, you flung yourself upon my blade.”

“And who put the blade against my neck?” she countered.

The memory was still vivid, and Darius felt ashamed of it. He’d been ready to butcher Valessa, all because he’d seen her as a threat. Jerico had been furious at him for it, and rightly so.

“Fair enough,” he said. “I won’t ask any more about the veil.”

They sat quietly for a moment. Sighing, Valessa waved a hand over her face, banishing the veil. Her skin was pale, her eyes a vibrant blue, like gems dug from the deepest caves of Dezrel. She might have the ability to resemble anyone, but she wore her true face, and she was beautiful.

“Lilah can still kill me,” she said. If she was bothered by his staring, she did not show it. “I put my life in your hands. Don’t let me down. I cannot enter the Abyss as I am.”

“Easy enough solution,” Darius said. “Don’t go to the Abyss.”

She smirked at him.

“You would have me be a coward and a traitor, like you? Because I cannot live up to Karak’s standards, you’d have me abandon them completely for a god with none whatsoever?”

Darius shrugged.

“Just an idea.”

They both went silent as Brute joined them, a half-full mug of alcohol in hand.

“You two ready for the fun?” he asked, settling down in the grass.

“Not as ready as you are, apparently,” Darius said, grinning.

“Well that’s what this is for,” Brute said, handing the mug over as the nearby camp stirred with commotion. “Drink it up, but save me that cup. It’s my favorite. We’re marching out, so get your sword, and, milady, get your…well, whatever is you’ll be killing people with.”

The older man gave them a salute, then left to join the rest. Darius stared at the mug with a frown.

“What?” Valessa asked.

“I’m not sure if I’m supposed to drink this anymore. I’d need to ask Jerico.”

Valessa stood, and her blue eyes flared with something dangerous.

“I’d give everything in the world to taste that horrible shit burning down my throat,” she told him. “Drink it, now, or I’ll have you leave here without a tongue to taste anything again.”

“Well then,” Darius said. “Bottoms up.”

That crucial matter taken care of, they moved to the front of the army, crossing the two miles toward the Blood Tower under the cover of night. When they were several hundred yards out, just beyond any hint of light from the numerous torches, Daniel called for them to stop, then summoned Darius and Valessa.

“Now is the time,” Daniel said, addressing only Darius and not Valessa. “Are you sure she can open the gates for us?”

“I’m sure she can,” Valessa said, glaring. “So long as the lioness doesn’t eat me first.”

“A hundred and fifty men will weep for your passing,” Daniel said as Valessa ran toward the tower. “If it’s before the gates open,” he added.

Darius drew his sword, its light shining across the water of the river flowing beside them.

“What will it take for you to trust her?” he asked.

“What will it take?” Daniel pointed to the tower. “Let’s have that in my control. That’d be a start.”

“So be it then,” Darius said. He waited until the shadow in the distance that was Valessa reached the walls of the castle, then counted another minute before lifting his blade high, letting all there see its light. “To the gates,” he cried. “To the tower. Some pussycat thinks it’s hers, and it’s time we take it back!”

7

V
alessa ran without weapons toward the outer wall of the Blood Tower. For a moment she’d thought to bring her dagger when they left Willshire. Darius had locked it away in his tent, telling her it was for her own good. Truth be told, she didn’t want it. The thing glowed with a red power that strangely made her uncomfortable now. The thought of Karak’s presence shouldn’t do this to her, she knew. Her failure was growing, her betrayal all the more terrible. And now she fought at the side of a paladin of Ashhur.

Out of your mind, she told herself. Put it out of your mind.

She had a job to do, and it was all part of the plan. Killing Cyric would calm her mind, and killing Darius afterward would calm her faith. This was one step to that, and to do it, she didn’t need a dagger. Her hands were just as deadly, her very being shadow and frost. No armor or blade would stop her from taking their life. Just holy light and infernal claws. To her twisted amusement, she left one behind with Darius only to approach another with Lilah.

Valessa paused a moment when she reached the wall, trying to see if she could sense Lilah’s presence. The beast was unnaturally quiet, and her intelligence frightening. If Valessa walked right into the embrace of the lioness, there’d be no opening the gate for Daniel’s men, just a painful death and an even worse eternity. But try as she might, she couldn’t sense anything. Banishing her fear, she made herself incorporeal, and through the wall she went. When she stepped out the other side, she was only fifty yards from the gate leading into the inner complex. Dropping low, she glanced about, scanning for guards. Two were at the gate, standing at attention with far more discipline than she remembered from their kind. Lilah must have kept them permanently in fear after Cyric’s defeat. Valessa could almost smell it reeking from the very stones of the tower, if she’d still had the ability to smell.

Besides those two, she spotted another pair upon the wall above the gate. Staying low, her guise nothing more than shadow and her skin a softly shifting mass of black, she checked for Lilah. She saw more mercenaries guarding the wall, especially by the river. Tents dotted the spaces between the wall and the tower, along with a few dwindling fires, yet she could not find Lilah.

If I can’t see her, she can’t see me, Valessa thought as she turned her attention back to the gate. I hope.

She slunk along the wall. The torches atop it left heavy shadows below them, which wasn’t too surprising. After all, they guarded against the outside, not within. How many enemies could walk through walls? With each step she felt her anxiety grow. Once she exposed herself, it was only a matter of time before Lilah came running.

Shaking her head, Valessa chastised herself for her fear. This wasn’t her. She hadn’t been cowardly in life, and she would not start now in whatever her current existence counted as. No longer slinking, no longer shadow, she rushed the two guards. With her coming in from the side, only one had a reasonable chance to notice, and when he caught sight of her rushing from the corner of his eye it was far too late. Leaping at him, she made her hand become solid, and it chopped against his throat, crushing his windpipe and sealing away his startled cry. The motion of his slumping body alerted the other, who turned.

“You all right?” he asked, and before the last word had left his tongue Valessa lunged at him with her foot leading. It was a risk, she knew, but she tried it anyway. Her foot passed through his breastplate, but in the gap between it and his chest, she made herself real once more. The blow cracked ribs in that brief moment, for she could not keep it up long. The rest of her passed through the man, and by the convulsions of his body she knew it must have felt like his entire being was encased in ice. Spinning about, she grabbed his head, and with strength far beyond what she’d possessed in life, jerked it sharply to one side. The sound of his neck snapping was louder than she preferred.

The commotion was enough to alert the guards, but whatever noise they’d heard below was quickly forgotten when cries of battle from the north broke the silence. Valessa cursed silently. They’d needed to walk a fine line, waiting long enough for her to open the gates, but not long enough for those in the tower to notice and try to close it. In her opinion, Darius had acted far too soon, the impatient oaf.

Just beside the gate was a heavy wheel attached to the wall, connected to unseen gears and pulleys that would lift and shut the gate. As Valessa grabbed the handles, she heard what she’d most feared: Lilah’s roar. Not daring to turn around, she pulled. The wheel was designed to be used by two men, but Valessa could still move it with ease. Advantages of being undead, she told herself, laughing madly. As alarms sounded, pierced by another roar, it seemed the two soldiers up top noticed her meddling, or at least, heard the clattering rise of the gate. An arrow pierced her chest and thudded into the grass. Valessa smirked. Two more arrows flew, and she ignored them, only spinning the wheel as fast as her arms could go.

Realizing they couldn’t hurt her, at least not with arrows, the two rushed down the stone steps. One man latched onto the wheel, trying to stall its movements, while the other swung a sword at her neck. It passed through, nearly killing the other man in the process. Annoyed by the interference, Valessa shoved her hand through the chest of the first, her icy hand closing around his heart and crushing it. For a brief moment she felt the blood swirling about her fingers, then turned her attention to the other. Keeping her entire body solid, she kicked and punched him back, each blow denting his armor. He tried to block with his sword, but her movements were too deft, too blinding. A savage blow to his chin staggered him, and when he fell he lay there, vomiting.

The gate was only half open. Men could crawl under, but they’d be helpless against any sort of defense. Turning the wheel, she ignored the mercenaries approaching to guard the gate. They couldn’t hurt her. None of them could, not with their feeble mortal blades. She had no flesh to pierce. But when the lioness let out her cry, and its sound was terribly close, she knew she’d failed her task.

“You dare return here?” Lilah roared, and then something struck Valessa hard from behind. A terrible sensation of burning swarmed across her back, and she flew forward, through the wheel, through the wall, and exited rolling across the grass. Letting out a scream, Valessa fought against the pain. Glaring at the gate, she watched as the mercenaries quickly shut it. Looking north, she saw Darius leading a charge, his glowing blade held high. In moments they’d arrive to find no way inside.

“Is that it?” Valessa asked, even as she felt a form of madness overtake her. She approached the gate, where Lilah glared at her through the bars. She was just as large as she remembered, an enormous feline with molten fur and fire burning where her eyes should be. Only metal separated them, but it seemed the lioness still feared the forces arrayed against her, otherwise she’d have kept the gates open so she could attack. “Is that the best you can do to me?”

Valessa showed the flesh rent by the lioness’s claws, which wept shadow, and no matter what form she assumed, would not change to match it, instead remaining a wicked scar.

“Your body is a gift, one I can take away,” Lilah said, nose hovering just before the gate.

Valessa walked closer, closer, and she made her form change to match her lunacy. She wore silvery armor, a crown, and a purple cape around her shoulders that flowed down to her ankles. She stared into Lilah’s eyes. They were so vivid, yet somehow dark, as if they were windows into a deep place in the earth filled with fire and molten rock. She saw no mercy in them, no understanding, only fury and disgust. At her closeness, Lilah bared her teeth, and her very breath was burning heat across Valessa’s body.