A Soul Divided (The Blood Fire Trilogy Book 1) (2 page)

The king paused for moment, and then began to laugh softly. “Guardsman Ashbell, if we thought for even a second that you actually possessed the powers of the Mystics we would never have made you a Palace Guard. We were already quite sure of your humanity when you first enlisted in the military. And whatever lingering doubts we may have held about your lack of powers before; your rather short performance in last night’s battle removed those doubts from our minds.”

Vahn stared in surprise. It was like the king had shifted into a new personality. How long had he been fighting back the urge to laugh?

“I’m sorry your majesty.” Vahn said.

“Don’t apologize.” The king said. “Look, I hate all of this formality; it’s really just a show that we put on for visitors, so I’m just going to get straight to the point of all of this. There are only two full blooded Fortunatus known to be alive today. One of them is the King of the Mystics. Since we’re at war with him, I would imagine he would be less than helpful. But the second choice is slightly more promising since he’s your younger brother.”

Suddenly Vahn’s presence in this meeting made a lot more sense. Why had he ever thought this was about him? Despite his military skill, he hadn’t gotten here because of his own merits.

“Drake is my half brother.” Vahn replied, “And he’s also a wanted criminal. I’m not sure he would be easily convinced to help you.”

“Leave the convincing to us.” Ryker said, some of the seriousness returning to his voice. “For the good of the Human Empire, and for the sake of my only daughter, I’m asking you to help us. Now Guardsman Ashbell, you are free to refuse this task if you feel that you aren’t capable of performing it. But if you are the caliber of man I expect a member of my Palace Guard to be, then the decision to stop a man who killed hundreds of your comrades, and then took a member of the family that you swore an oath to protect with your life, is not something you will not take lightly.”

Vahn sat in silence for a moment, looking down at the table. The king was right. Hundreds of people lay dead, and the heir to the Empire had been taken. Vahn could play a key role in avenging the fallen men and saving the stolen princess. Of course, credit would go to Drake and not to Vahn.

“Always remember my son. Honor is greater than glory.” The last words his father had spoken to him sprang unbidden to his mind.

Vahn felt guilty for even considering turning down the king’s request. He lifted his head and met the king’s gaze.

“I haven’t seen him in years.” Vahn replied. “But I think I could find him.”

“Then I’m promoting you to the rank of Captain.” Ryker said. “I will also assign a special task force under your command. You’ll need to report to all council meetings until this Anti-Luck is stopped, and my daughter is brought safely home. Your input is welcome on any subject that we discuss, but your priority is finding Drake Ashbell.”

Chapter 3: Drake

Shattered glass flew through the air behind Drake as he fell to the ground from the castle window he'd just leapt through.

I did not think this through
, he thought as he plummeted toward the ground. He hit with a slight thud on the grass that was just soft enough to keep him from breaking any bones upon impact.

"Wow," he said to himself, "I can't believe that actually worked."

He looked up as the shards of brightly colored glass rained down around him.

The colors are kind of pretty falling through air
, he thought.
Much prettier than that horrid stained glass portrait of King Dathan that was there before I smashed through it.

The shards of glass were followed by several arrows fired from the soldiers up above him.

Those are a little less pretty!
Drake thought as he narrowly dodged them.

"Hey! What's with all the hostility!? I thought we were getting along!" He yelled up to them as he lifted himself off of the ground.

"You’re a thief!" a soldier yelled back from the broken window frame, "And that window you just destroyed was priceless art!" The soldier punctuated his sentence by firing another arrow only narrowly missing Drake.

"Well, if you would've just let me use the door like I wanted to, then I wouldn't have had to jump through it!" Drake yelled back at him as he pulled out his revolver and fired at the soldiers. Drake grinned at the soldier standing in the window frame and watched as the little ball of light that came from the barrel of his gun transformed itself into a massive fireball and hit the soldier in the chest.

"Bull’s-eye!" Drake said as he turned to run away from the soldiers that had come pouring out of the main gate. He turned and immediately shot another fireball into the crowd of soldiers. They all scrambled to get out of the way. Drake laughed at the soldiers that fell over trying to avoid the blast.

"He's using Vhy’ Rai," one of them yelled, "Fire back!"

Drake let out a slight yelp as the soldiers lifted their hands and sent a conglomeration of fireballs, icicles, and even small bolts of lightning flying through the air toward him. Drake felt the cool dirt hit against his face as it was flung up from the soldiers’ attacks hitting the ground around him. Miraculously, none of the attacks hit him.

“I guess they didn’t teach you how to aim in your military training!” Drake yelled as he shot another fireball from his revolver and turned to run as fast as he could, going down the first of the switchbacks that lead down to the bottom of the mountain.

Knune’s fire! Why did I have to rob a place so high up!?
He thought as he rounded the corner to descend to the next switchback road, narrowly dodging a flying shard of ice, and a few crossbow bolts as he went.

It’ll take way too long to get down this.

He stopped at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the winding road leading down the mountain and into the nearby town.

It's too high.
He thought,
even with something soft to break my fall at the bottom, I'd definitely break something.

He turned to check what progress the soldiers had made in chasing him. They all wore bulky suits of armor, making them much slower than Drake, so he expected to have a moment to think before they caught up with him, but he turned to find a squad close on his heels. Drake’s eyes widened as he saw that the squad of soldiers had caught up with him and were already sending balls of fire flying through the air straight at him.

They sure are more motivated than usual
, he thought as he moved to dodge the attack.
They must have really loved that window.

His foot caught on a rock as he moved to sidestep an oncoming fireball.

This is not going to feel good,
he thought as he toppled over the edge falling fast toward a passing carriage.

I hope it's carrying something soft.

*******************************

               Angela was on the verge of tears as she sat, chained, in the Mystic’s slave transport; contemplating the fate that awaited her. Just a week earlier she’d been happy in her home with her family where her biggest concern had been making sure she looked cute enough to impress the boy that always smiled at her when she and her step-father had taken the produce from their farm to the market. She had always disliked her step-father. She’d spent many days fighting against the rules that he set and making it clear to him that he wasn’t her real father. Her domestic worries all seemed trivial now that her home had been conquered by the Mystics and she and her younger sister had been shipped off to this planet. She would give anything to find out if her mother and step-father were even alive. But she couldn’t do that because she had nothing left to give; the Mystics had taken it all. Now she was destined to spend the rest of her days as a slave; and not just any slave, she was too pretty to be sold as a normal worker; she would serve “other purposes.”

She shuddered to think of what those might be.

The slave carriage shook as it hit a bump in the road. Angela looked over to her sister, Nora, who sat next to her, and then over at the other girls in the carriage. They all had their wrists and ankles chained to the benches. Some of them had tears in their eyes. Others seemed so exhausted and overwhelmed with the situation that they couldn’t even muster up the energy to cry. Angela had heard horror stories of what happened to the humans who were captured by the Mystics. They would use their strange power to give them a mark. Once they had that, they could never disobey an order from their master without experiencing excruciating pain. There would be no escape for them once they made it to the slave market unless their master set them free.

Suddenly, Angela heard someone screaming outside the carriage. Although she couldn’t see the source, it sounded almost like it was coming from above them. There was a loud rip and a thud as something came crashing through the roof and onto the bed of the slave transport. She would have jumped right out of her seat if she wasn’t chained to it. She looked down at the object that had fallen through the roof and to her surprise; it wasn’t an object at all, it was a young man who looked to be in his early twenties.

“Not my best landing.” the boy groaned as he slowly began to pick himself up off of the ground.

Where in the world did he come from?
Angela thought. Then, she noticed the sword on his waist, and the revolver in his hand. It was the strangest looking gun she had ever seen. The metal had an almost supernatural reddish tint to it, the whole thing had bands of runes from a foreign language burned into it. But despite its strange appearance, it was unmistakably a gun and a Mystic would never use one of those. But if the boy wasn’t with the Mystics, what was he doing here? It didn’t make sense for the Human Empire to send anybody to save a bunch of farm girls from one of the border planets, but what else could this boy be here to do?

“Are you here to save us!?” Angela blurted out. The boy turned toward her with a slight look of confusion in his eyes. The confusion disappeared as his eyes met hers.

“Wow, you are gorgeous.” He said. “Have you been marked yet?”

The boy got straight to the point.

“What?” she said. The boy moved forward and grabbed her right hand. “What are you doing!?” She yelled out, pulling her hand back as best as the chains would allow.

“I’m checking for a slave mark,” he said, “I can’t save you if you have one.”

“Oh, right. No, we, um… We haven’t been marked yet.” she said, fumbling over her words as she spoke.

I feel like an idiot
, she thought as he let go of her hand.

“Are you always this eloquent?” he asked, “Or are my good looks leaving you speechless?”

        “Your looks?” Angela asked, regaining control over her words, “It’s the smell that’s leaving me speechless. When is the last time you bathed?”

She had to admit, with his light brown hair, blue eyes, and muscular build, this boy would probably be good looking if it wasn’t for the fact that he was covered in ash and dirt. Not to mention that he did have a bit of a sweaty odor emanating from him; not that any of the slaves in the cart smelled any better.

“I bathed this mor….” The boy began; but paused mid-sentence after inhaling through his nose. “I’ve been running a lot…. and they were shooting stuff at me... you would be sweaty too…” the boy trailed off.

“Are you always this eloquent?” Angela asked, the sarcasm obvious in her voice. “Or are my good looks leaving you speechless?”

“Wow.” The boy responded, “Hearing you say it, that line sounds cocky and conceited. You should have said it the same way I did; you know, with a nicer more sincere tone, then it would’ve been a little better.”

“Who exactly are you?” Angela asked, hoping she hadn’t offended the boy with her quick responses.

“Drake Ashbell.” He replied. “And you are?”

“Angela Fisher.” She said. “But my name isn’t going to matter much to you if you don’t help us out right now. So are you going to save us or not?”

“I might if you say please.” Drake said.

“Please.” Angela said flatly.

“I hope your ‘thank you’ is more sincere than your ‘please’ was.” Drake said as he walked back to the place where he had fallen, holstered his gun, and jumped up grabbing onto the poorly constructed wooden frame that held up the canvas roof, and pulled himself out through the hole he had made.

I don’t understand what just happened
, Angela thought to herself,
but I sure hope this guy knows what he’s doing.

********************************

       
I have no idea what I’m doing
, Drake thought to himself as he tried to crawl his way across the canvas roof of the slave cart.

There’s no room for them on the ship
, he thought,
what am I going to do with them after I get them out of this cart?

He paused for a moment, looking down at the city that they were fast approaching. The cities of the Mystics’ planets were so interesting to see. Most of the buildings were constructed from bricks and mud, and some of them even still had straw roofs. In stark contrast to the poorly constructed hovels that surrounded it, were the giant metal towers and concrete landing pads that made up the spaceport in the center of the city. It wasn’t quite as magnificent as the spaceports on the human worlds, since it was made entirely of old stolen parts from the Human Empire’s outdated technology, but it was still quite an impressive sight. His vision trailed from the spaceport to the slums at the edge of the town where most of the population lived.

I know where I can put them!
He suddenly realized. He shifted his weight on the shaky wooden frame so he could reach into his pocket and pull out his Line Transceiver. On the Mystic planets, technology like that was strictly forbidden; however, most of his criminal contacts here ignored the prohibition. He dialed a number and waited.

“Drake!” a voice answered all too loudly through the receiver, “Are you calling to finally settle your debt with me?”

Eijhur take me!
Drake thought,
I forgot. I owe him money.

“Of course I am!” Drake said, “Listen, I’ve got some people that need to stay in your smuggling house for a few days. When I come to pick them up, I’ll pay you what I owe plus a little extra for your troubles.”

“Fine,” the voice on the other end said, “But I’m not feeding them while they’re here.  So you’d better show up fast.”

“Deal,” Drake said, “They’ll be in a slave cart with a hole in the top at the east entrance of the spaceport, in about ten minutes. Make sure you pick them up!”

“What!?” the outraged voice exclaimed, “That’s not going to be easy if there’s anyone chasing them and since it’s you making the call, I’m assuming there’s a chase happening.”

“I trust you to get it done,” Drake said.

“I’d better get my money,” the voice threatened.

“See you in ten minutes!” Drake yelled as he hung up the phone and stuffed it back in his pocket.

Now it’s time to free those girls.
He thought as he began his awkward crawl over the worn out canvas again.

The things I do for a pretty face.
He thought as he reached the edge and saw the giant man driving the cart with another monster of a man sitting next to him with the keys to the girls’ chains hanging on his waist.

Here goes nothing
, he thought as he jumped down, leg extended, hitting the driver in the head and knocking him off the side of the carriage. He turned in time for the other man’s fist to make contact with his stomach. He doubled over in pain. Those girls had better appreciate this. He looked up to find the large man moving to deliver a kick to his chest. Moving much faster than the big man had expected, Drake dove under his raised leg, stood up behind the confused man, gave a solid push to his back, and knocked him over the edge of the carriage. The man reached out his arms as he fell; grasping at anything to stop his impending fall. He barely grabbed onto the end of the carriage before hitting the ground.

“Help me!” he yelled, “I don’t want to die!” Drake walked over to the edge and looked down at the screaming man. To the man’s surprise, Drake grabbed his hand.