CHARLIE
Iwould have strategized. Assessed our enemies.
Come up with a plan. But Parthar bounded ahead like a dog after a squirrel, and it was all I could do to keep up with him.
As we broke into the clearing, he spread his wings and lifted off the ground, veering toward a knot of three chatting Lacunae and blasting a plume of fire from his mouth.
Two of the knights were roasted where they stood.
They screamed and fell to the ground, clawing at their scalding armor.
The third lunged aside, his cloak in flames, but before he could get his sword free of its sheath, Parthar’s wing clotheslined him, knocking him off his feet.
Not a bad opening attack…
The chained-up kids gave a cheer that was nearly comical, but my focus was down the sight of my pistol.
The largest of the Gray Brothers stood staring at Parthar in startlement.
My shot took him in the chest and dropped him.
The instant he fell, the other mages scattered, each running in a different direction, and my next three shots flew harmlessly into the woods as they fled.
But they were still the biggest danger. Gray Brothers varied widely in their powers, I knew.
Some were no more than dour monks who spent their days scrubbing floors or serving higher-ups.
But others were powerful and deadly magic users.
There was no telling what sort I was dealing with here, and I figured I’d better shoot them before I found out. But the bastards were elusive.
I chased one behind a tree and shot him in the gut. Another leaped out at me from behind a boulder bearing a short sword. I parried his thrust with my saber, slashed him across the face, then shot him in the chest, dropping him.
At the sound of hoofbeats, I wheeled just in time to see a Lacuna galloping toward me on horseback, armed with a chain flail.
The spiked ball whistled toward me. I tried to sidestep it, but it struck me a glancing blow as the knight passed.
My gun fell from my hand as pain flashed through my shoulder.
I dropped to my knees, holding my arm and snarling in pain.
Another Lacuna was on me in an instant, his great sword whooshing wide arcs as I rolled backward onto my feet and brought my own blade up to defend myself.
The first blow almost knocked the sword out of my hand, but I managed to hang on and countered with a strike that thumped off the knight’s breastplate, knocking him back a step.
I was pleased with myself momentarily—but the blow didn’t hurt him at all, and in the next moment he was charging me again, thrusting his longsword at me like a lance.
I turned it aside with my own blade, but the huge man’s momentum carried him forward.
Our blades slid upward against one another, and the knight’s body smashed into mine, sending both of us crashing to the ground.
I took the worst of it—two hundred pounds of man and sixty pounds of armor falling on me with crushing force.
When the stars cleared from my vision, he had his blade sideways across my throat and was pushing it down with his steel gauntlets.
My own blade was holding it back, but barely.
Inch by inch, the bigger man’s weight forced his blade downward like a guillotine until I felt its cold steel pressing against my throat.
A hiss of triumph came from behind the knight’s visor as I felt his blade biting my skin.
Then a red tentacle whipped around his neck and he was jerked backward, off me.
Parthar dragged him backwards with his tail, then leaped on him like a barn cat onto a mouse.
The knight brought his sword up, but Parthar caught the arm in his jaws.
There was a loud crunch of metal and bone, and the sword dropped from the knight’s grip.
He cried out, but Parthar took a deep breath and blasted the visor of his helmet with fire.
I saw the flames slither through the eye slits, and knight’s cry went shrill, then died out.
My shoulder protested with pain as I rolled, found my pistol, and got to my feet.
The battlefield was a ruin of smoldering grass and slain enemies. I glanced to Parthar, who stood licking the blood off of one of his claws, looking pleased with himself. The sight of the blood sent a shiver of hunger through me, and I realized my teeth had grown long. My desire rose, hot as magma.
But I had a task to do. Unchain these kids.
Set them free—before the Gray Brothers who fled came back.
I took a step toward the prisoners, then froze.
Something was wrong. I suddenly felt terribly dizzy.
Sick. My pulse sped up until it felt as if my heart would beat out of my chest. I took one wobbly step, then stumbled and fell.
I looked around, the world spinning so much that I could barely see. And then I spotted her, some forty yards away at the top of a low rise. The young witch.
Her hand was outstretched as she worked her terrible magick on me, and as I met her stare, her pale eyes seemed to expand until nothing else in the world existed. I felt her gaze boring into my soul.
Her voice rang out in my mind, its volume deafening, like the voice of God.
Those children are mine. Run, foreigner. RUN!
I found myself rising to my feet like a marionette jerked up by its strings.
I heard a low growl, and my eyes snapped to Parthar. Tendrils of what looked like black smoke were wrapped around his legs and seemed to be pinning him in place.
RUN! The young witch’s command came again, terrible in my mind.
And I would have obeyed—I would have had no choice.
Except I caught sight of something, a scrape on her knee, below the hem of her skirt, which she must’ve gotten as she’d fled our initial attack.
And though I could feel her magick repelling me, my blood hunger was stronger.
I found myself sprinting toward her at preternatural speed.
She fell backward with a cry as I reached her, the power she’d wielded over me disappearing like a puff of smoke.
I grabbed her leg and ran my tongue up the scrape on her knee—disgusted with myself as I did it, but also enraptured by the taste of the blood.
Metallic. Slightly salty. And something else.
Something no human could ever detect or appreciate.
It was heaven. The nectar of life itself.
It exploded through my mind and my body, awakening every cell of me with rapture, ecstasy, and even greater hunger.
Hunger that stretched its roots to the core of me, a bottomless need that I knew could never be filled, though it would be glorious to try.
I’d taken a trip through the universe, my eyes rolled back in my head. When I came back to myself, my tongue was still on the girl’s knee.
“No! Stop!” the witch commanded, but her words had no power over me now.
I grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back, revealing her tender, pale neck, her pulsing jugular. My teeth were so long now they ached, and I bared them ready to bite. To drink. To feed.
I heard Parthar roar behind me, but I was beyond caring. The blood hunger sizzled through me like a torrent of water through a burst dam, like a sea raging in a storm.
The little witch was muttering, an incantation in some inhuman language, but her words were broken by her trembling.
I brought my teeth to her neck, shaking with desire and anticipation.
Then, I stopped. It took every fiber of my will, but I held the girl out at arm’s length, making myself look at her.
She was terribly powerful. Evil, too—hell, I’d seen her abusing those kids.
But for a second, I forced myself to see her with clear eyes.
She was still just a girl. I was suddenly ashamed, disgusted with myself.
With a snarl, I shoved her so hard she skidded backward a half dozen yards across the leafy ground.
“You run!” I roared.
I didn’t have to tell her twice. She clambered to her feet and sprinted away into the forest.
I shut my eyes, panting to regain my breath, and cursed myself.
I should have killed her, child or no. A powerful young mage like that—she would probably grow up to be a terror, a powerful enemy.
She already was a powerful enemy. But what would I be if I snatched up a thirteen-year-old girl and drank her to a husk?
I’d be worse than what she was. I’d be a monster.
But goddammit, I was still so hungry for blood. Hungrier than ever.
With a trembling hand, I wiped the cold sweat from my brow.
My eyes were shut, but I heard Parthar coming toward me with tentative steps.
“The children. Break their chains and scatter them,” I said, my voice low and gravelly.
The little dragon gave a hoom of displeasure. I knew without simnal exactly what he was thinking. That we should feed these children. Nurture them. Protect them. Take them somewhere safe.
That was just the thing…
“They’re not safe around me!” I shouted at Parthar.
I was already aware of every spot of blood on those children. The ones whose shackles had cut their wrists. The ones with skinned knees. The bare, cut-up feet.
I was only now understanding the reality of my curse. Maybe no one was safe around me after what I’d become… these kids sure as hell were not. Not right now.
Parthar glanced at the children, who all watched us with big, worried eyes, then he looked back to me.
He hesitated only a moment longer, then turned, his tail dragging sullenly on the ground, and went to the children.
With a few bites of his powerful jaws, the chains that had held the little captives fell away.
But the kids didn’t run. They stood looking toward me. Expectant. Hopeful.
I remembered my maps of Maethalia and pointed.
“There’s a village that way. Start running now, you’ll be there by lunchtime. Go.”
Still, they stood watching me. Guilt twisted in my chest. I was supposed to be the Silver Wraith, supposed to be a hero to kids, not a menace. But here I was. And damned if I’d let these kids stick around with me and get hurt.
What would they face out there alone? Golenae? Wolves? Something worse? I didn’t know. But whatever it was, their odds were better than if they stayed here with me.
“GO!” I bellowed.
They must’ve seen my vampyre teeth then, because they did run—like they’d truly seen a monster.