Those Who Fear the Darkness (BloodRunes: Book 2) (29 page)

All at once, a shadow loomed above them and
Katya looked up just in time to see a gigantic shape swoop down at
them before a huge roiling ball of fire engulfed the deck where she
had been standing moments before. She hurled herself into Gryffon,
and they both tumbled out of harm’s way, though they collided
roughly with the other side of the boat.

“What in the gods’ names was that?” Gryffon
asked, so surprised by the attack that he didn’t even seem to
notice the large bloody welt that had appeared on the side of his
face.

“It IS a god!” shouted one of the sailors
before throwing himself screaming off the side of the ship. Several
others followed suit, and people scrambled away from the growing
flames.

Katya and Gryffon locked eyes and said in
unison, “Layna!” Katya pulled herself off of where she had landed
on him and held out her hand to pull him up. Together they raced
below deck, dodging the flames, and threw open the door to the room
that Layna was being kept.

The ship was suddenly jerked again, as though
something very heavy had sideswiped it, and they grabbed the wall
for support. Layna’s limp form was being rocked into a very
uncomfortable looking position, but so far she was still on the bed
and not looking too worse for wear.

When the boat stopped moving long enough for
letting go of the wall to be possible, Katya raced forward to grab
their packs while Gryffon slung Layna over his shoulder as
carefully as he could. They rushed back onto the deck where Katya
almost ran straight into Gryffon who had stopped to gape at the
scene before them.

Half of the ship was completely gone, smashed
apart by the beast’s attack, and water was quickly filling the gap.
The pieces that were still intact were aflame, and the sailors had
all but abandoned the sinking vessel. The most surprising part,
however, was what had attacked them. Apparently having just
finished its last pass at them, a dragon was winging its way
upwards, obviously preparing to swoop down on them again. Katya was
just as stunned as Gryffon.

Dragons weren’t supposed to really exist!

Katya’s feet slid forward a few inches as the
ship creaked and tilted and she shoved Gryffon to remind him of the
need to hurry. He got the hint and hastily glanced around, looking
for something to use as a raft. Katya beat him to it, kicking over
a barrel of fish to empty it before pounding the cover back into
place giving them a make-shift floatation for Layna.

They eased the barrel with Layna on it down
into the water and dived in themselves moments before the dragon
came back around once more. The heat from the flames that burst
forth from its mouth was almost unbearable, made worse by the wind
from its wing-beats fanning it towards them. Katya threw up every
shield she knew how to cast around the three of them, but it was no
good. She clamped her eyes closed against the burning pain and
opened her mouth to scream, only to have her breath stolen as fire
rushed down her throat, searing her on the inside. She could
actually feel bits of her face charring and even the water that so
far had protected the rest of her body was heating uncomfortably
hot around her.

Suddenly the beast’s mouth snapped shut,
causing the flames to abruptly extinguish, and its head swung
around so that one beady eye was towards them. Katya met the
dragon’s eye momentarily and felt a shock of a strange emotion.

It felt familiar.

She didn’t have time to think about it though
as it became all too apparent that its fire was not the only thing
to fear from the beast’s head. It opened its massive jaws to reveal
a terrifying set of dagger-sharp teeth and it roared thunderously
at them. The sound alone was almost enough to cause Katya’s heart
to stop beating of its own volition and she dove underneath the
water to muffle the sound. Gryffon followed suit and together they
dragged the barrel farther away from the dragon, praying to the
Three that it wouldn’t pounce upon it.

As they surfaced, Katya heard Gryffon
whispering and saw as a golden glow was forming around Layna. She
added her own strength to his shield, though she couldn’t help
feeling it was a bit hopeless against such a creature, and spared a
glance back at the beast. It was busy tearing the remainder of the
ship apart. Half-perched on the still-floating pieces, and taking
to the air as each sunk. It reminded her of a crow picking at the
remains of a rabbit, and Katya suddenly had a lot more respect for
what a rabbit must feel.

They reached the edge of the water and
clambered out, trying to blend into the under-brush. Once hidden,
they turned and watched as the dragon ignited the last remnants of
the boat and took to the air, letting out a final ear-piercing
shriek before flying out of sight.

Katya let out a breath she hadn’t realized
she’d been holding and looked at Gryffon. The cut on his face was
flowing freely now, and his skin looked as burned as hers felt.

She raised her hand to him and reached for
the power to heal, but stopped as she felt his hand on hers.

“Wait,” he whispered, “that thing nearly
hummed with radiant magic, no doubt it can sense its use. We don’t
want to draw its attention again while it’s still in its bloodlust
and no longer distracted by the ship.”

“You don’t think it really left?” she asked,
withdrawing her hand.

Gryffon gave her a pointed look. “I just
don’t want to underestimate it. In case you didn’t realize, that-”
he nodded towards the sky where the tiniest speck could still be
seen, “was a
dragon
.”

Katya was silent.
Indeed it was
.
Instead of answering, she ripped a piece of cloth off her shirt and
pressed it against his wound. He winced at the contact, but raised
his hand to take charge of applying the pressure and Katya turned
her own attention to Layna whose limp form was strewn rather
haphazardly across the ground.

She had sustained several cuts, and bruises
were already visibly starting to form along her body - at least
they were where they could be made out underneath the burns. Katya
moaned.

“She’s in bad shape,” she whispered, as
though the volume of her voice would help diminish the seriousness
of Layna’s condition.

“So aren’t we all,” Gryffon noted, looking
from his own blackened skin to across the river where the surviving
sailors were pulling themselves out of the water, looking to be in
even worse shape than herself and Gryffon in many cases, and all
high-tailing it out of the vicinity.

“I guess we’ll be walking from here,” Katya
commented dryly, then coughed as the words scratched against her
burned throat.

“I would say so. It’s probably better anyway
to keep out of sight from the sky, just in case it returns.
Traveling through the woods will be much safer than trying to
fashion any sort of water vessel. Not to mention that traveling
upriver in the kind of boat we could make would be extremely
difficult…”

“I don’t suppose there’re any towns we could
stop at and get horses?” she asked hopefully, though she felt as if
she already knew the answer since they had not passed a single port
in some time.

Gryffon’s face told her what she needed to
know.

“Too bad,” she sighed, resigning herself to
the difficult trek she knew must be ahead of them. “At least we can
just follow the river.”

Gryffon’s look was not optimistic. “Well,” he
started thoughtfully and she cringed, sensing bad news. “We could,
but it would take us a lot longer since we’re not actually
traveling by water anymore. I believe that if we head straight
north from here it should be basically a short-cut to the source as
the river goes through a rather sharp curve here.” He paused and
she sensed the bad part coming, “But,” he went on, confirming her
fear, “that is only according to maps that haven’t been verified in
some time, so we could be way off.”

“What do you think?” she asked him.

He pondered for a moment, debating the pros
and cons before answering. “I think we should take our chances
heading north. If the maps are correct - and though there’s no
proof that they are, the rest of what they portray is correct so
there’s no real reason to doubt them - it could potentially cut out
a significant portion of our travel time.”

“Alright,” Katya said, “Let’s get
moving.”

*

Nathair bellowed his rage into the heavens.
He had almost
killed
them! He had had no idea how strong the
feral instincts would be with this new form. He had become so
caught up in the attack that he had nearly obliterated his girls.
That wouldn’t do. Obviously he could not trust himself near them
until he had conquered this new development. Even now he felt the
urge to return and finish them off, to stop them from continuing on
their journey.
But at least it will take them that much longer
to reach their goal.

Nathair wasn’t sure why he had that
particular thought and he put a bit more effort into thrusting his
wings towards home. He was growing weary of the strange thoughts
popping into his head, mindful of the alien presence that could
still be lurking there. Though it had remained mostly silent to
him, Nathair was rather perturbed that it could be trying to
infiltrate its own thoughts and shove its way into his
consciousness. Until he could sort it out, he would concentrate his
efforts on starting a war.

He landed in the courtyard and changed back
to human form on his second step. It was easier to sort out his own
thoughts in his rightful form. He felt a passing emotion of disgust
and ignored it, recognizing it as his intruder’s. He had decided
that this alien presence was responsible for the apparition of his
mother as well, and he wanted nothing more than to see it banished
from his thoughts. Though he had scoured each of his precious
books, starting with the one he had found as a boy and hid away in
his secret cave, he had yet to find any mention of how to eradicate
an unwanted essence from your mind.

The thought of his childhood cave gave him a
happy reprieve from his current frustrating situation, however, and
as he strode through the halls back to his suite, he allowed
himself to entertain the thought of it.

When he was a boy, shortly after his mother
had started his ‘teachings’ he had stumbled upon a passageway that
wound down into the earth, its entrance covered only by a thin
layer of vines. It had been a miracle that no one had found it
before then. He remembered walking through the woods that day,
having narrowly escaped a beating from his mother by slouching down
at the table in the tavern enough so that when she took a swing at
him, thinking his head to be inches higher, she accidentally
smacked the next patron over, spilling the man’s beer.

The man had initially only made a rude
comment to his mother, insinuating that if she were a man he would
have made her regret her slip, but as she was only a woman he would
let it go if she bought him another round. Nathair knew better than
the man what her response to that would be, and he had high-tailed
it out of the tavern whilst his mother was busy teaching the man a
lesson.

They had had to move quickly on from the town
that evening.

During his walk in the woods, in a rare
moment of safety, he had felt a sudden urge to go off the beaten
path - as if something was calling to him - and here he had
stumbled upon a huge boulder, covered in vines. On a whim, he had
removed these, revealing the entrance below.

Inside, he had found the first of many
ancient texts that he would acquire over the years. The feeling he
had when he first laid his hand over the book was indescribable.
Even then, he had recognized the power that it held. By careful
manipulation, he had learned how to read it from his mother, though
he would never have told her of its existence. It had become his
obsession, every free moment that he wasn’t being trained, he spent
deciphering its secrets. By its tutelage, he had grown in strength
rapidly, and he was convinced that the knowledge he had gained from
it was the only reason he had survived what she put him through.
The day she had ripped the secret of it from his mind was the day
that he had -

Nathair suddenly lost interest in the memory
and he swung open the door to his suites. The time for war was upon
them. Though the country was not completely healed from the
disasters from the barrier’s fall, he had noted during his flight
that Treymayne was no better off, and more importantly, the taste
of talent in the air, while significantly more prevalent than in
Gelendan, did not have many even moderately high in strength.

Not only that, but there wasn’t even the
slightest hint of blood-magic. Nathair smiled. If his enemies
wanted to weaken themselves by denying the use of real power, he
was prepared to take full advantage of this fact.

There was also the matter of Jezebel. He had
ignored her for some time now, and given her sense of
self-importance she was bound to have taken it personally. It would
be exasperating to speak with her, and he didn’t feel like putting
up with her at the moment. Instead, he mind-called to Devon,
ordering the man’s will to find a mirror to speak with him in
private.

Nathair sat in front of his own mirror and
waited. Moments later, the surface shimmered and Devon’s face
appeared. He looked harried. As Nathair commanded him to report, he
found out why. The poor man had been locked up with Jezebel after
being arrested by the Treymayne council. No wonder he was such a
mess.

“So,” Nathair reiterated when Devon was
through, “their council is aware of my new status and already
assumes that I will attack.” He gave Devon a toothy grin, “I guess
I can’t disappoint them can I then?”

“It’s true then?” Devon asked, an
uncharacteristic look of fright written plainly on his face.