Chapter Nineteen #2
Instead of carrying forward on horseback, I dismount and, pulling my work mask on.
I move towards the body of a young man caught between a shift when he died.
My emotions get pushed away to the deepest part of me.
I need to know what killed them so I can bring the culprit to justice and help these supernaturals rest easy.
I can fall apart and grieve for them later.
“What are you doing?” Rival asks me, the only one who’s stayed behind.
“I’m checking the wounds to see if I can identify what kind of creature did this,” I explain.
“Good idea,” he replies, getting off his own horse and walking over to join me.
My nose wrinkles at the smell of the body.
He’s been here a while, at least three days.
Which either means he was one of the first to die, or we’re three days late to help.
I crouch down next to him, trying not to touch him.
Some supernaturals can leave traces behind that damage anyone who touches the body after it’s dead, and I’m not risking it.
Fortunately, his clothes are torn thanks to his partial shift, and it’s easy to see his wounds.
“Something strong enough to tear an arm off a shifter,” Rival mutters, his voice clinical, which is the only way to deal with this.
“Claw marks covering most of the torso,” I add, and lean closer, ignoring the stench as I study the wounds.
Something isn’t quite right about them, and I can’t put my finger on what. I move around the body to have a look at them from another angle and frown.
“What is it?” Rival asks.
“Well, normal wounds bleed a lot, and you get a level of bruising around them. All of the claw marks on his body don’t have that, which means they were inflicted after he died and weren’t the cause of death. The severing of the arm wasn’t either. Shifters can heal that with enough time.”
“So what killed him then?” Rival asks, frowning and bending closer to study the body.
“I have no idea. He might be too mangled for us to figure out exactly what it is. Let’s have a look at someone else and see if they’ve got similar wounds,” I suggest.
We only have to walk two metres until we get to the next body, this time, it’s a woman, and there’s no obvious sign to say what supernatural she is. She at least has all her limbs but once again is covered in claw marks.
“It’s just like the other guy, the claw marks were made after she died,” Rival mutters, studying her carefully.
“Look at this,” I say as I spot the wound directly over her heart.
It’s about two inches wide and has a thin slit, suggesting it’s been made by a sword, which would only kill a few supernaturals.
We’re notoriously complicated to kill. What has me intrigued though, is the dark blue veins spreading out from the wound.
“It’s a stab wound, and I’m guessing they used a poisoned blade,” Rival says, getting up and going back to the other body, he uses a stick to carefully move the scraps of fabric off the guy’s chest, and sure enough the same wound is there.
“Well, this wasn’t done by a Rogue. They use their gifts, never weapons, and their minds have deteriorated enough that they wouldn’t have the foresight to poison the blades first.”
“I’ll have a look in some of my books when I get back. Maybe that will give us a clue as to who’s behind this.”
“Good idea. Let’s check some of the other bodies and make sure this wasn’t an isolated incident.”
He nods grimly, and we walk through the nearest buildings and houses, checking bodies. They all have the same wounds that the previous bodies have.
“Did you find any survivors?” I ask the others as they all ride up to Rival and me.
Judging from their desolate faces, they didn’t.
“No,” Loki answers bluntly.
“What about you two?” Storm asks, watching us curiously.
“No survivors, but we don’t think that a Rogue caused this. Look,” I start, and all of them dismount and walk over to the latest body, Rival, and I are checking. “See, all of the claw marks were done after they died to cover up the real cause of death.”
“Which is this,” Rival takes over the explanation showing them the stab wounds in the heart and the blue lines coming out from it.
“So they were poisoned, murdered, and not by a Rogue,” Reaper sums up before crouching next to the body and bravely taking a large inhale. “I can’t smell the poison used, which is strange. Most things leave a trace of a scent behind even if they are supposed to be scentless.”
“I’ve seen something similar before, but it was dark magic, and the poison lines were dark purple,” Storm frowns as he talks.
“Well fuck. Dark magic users are as dangerous as the Rogues, if not more so, because their minds are still intact. They know perfectly well what they’re doing and can plan accordingly,” Loki curses.
“We can’t do anything else now. Let’s get back to the academy. Hopefully, Kill will be back, and we can fill him in,” Storm suggests.
We all get back on our horses and head off.
“I still don’t understand the motivation behind sending us here,” Reaper says a few miles into the ride.
“Distraction possibly?” I suggest.
“Or to shake us so that we’re not on our game for something else.”
“We’ll stick to the plan and keep a closer eye on the Headmaster when we get back,” Storm says decisively.
“If Poca decides to show back up, I can have him keep an eye on him for us. It’s less risky, and no one knows when Poca is around if he doesn’t want them to,” I suggest.
“Good idea. Until then, though, it’ll have to be Killian and I since we’re the only ones that can adequately mask ourselves.”
After that, we pick up the pace and soon, we reach the gates to the academy and a very pissed off Killian pacing outside, his tail whipping back and forth and his horns blazing with blue fire. As soon as he spots us, he folds his arms over his chest and waits.
“What happened to you?” Loki asks, “I thought you were going to be back sooner?”
“I was, but I got held up. What happened?” He asks, looking over us with concern.
“It was another set-up, but not like last time,” Storm starts, “come on, I’ll explain while we take the horses back.”
By the time we get to the stables, Killian is filled in and even madder than he was before, especially since he didn’t really manage to find out anything about the assassin that was sent after me as he got caught up in settling a couple of other disputes.
“Alright, I need a shower,” Loki says as we get back to the castle.
We have barely set foot in the academy when the Headmasters magically projected voice sounds through the hallway, and all the surrounding students become quiet as we listen.
“All students are to report to the main hall. An emergency assembly has been called.”
“What now?” Loki groans.
“Maybe we’ll finally get some answers about what’s been happening with the teachers and Zev’s vision,” Mayhem suggests.
We follow the flow of students into the hall and take our seats, staring up at the stage with the Headmaster front and centre, and all the teachers sat behind him, looking apprehensive.
“I’ll get straight to the point. The realm has started the Warrior Games. Every member here will be expected to compete, and classes will be geared towards the need to get you all prepared in time.”
The hall becomes a cacophony of noise, a mixture of excited chatter and outright terror.