Dusk Falling (Book 1) (10 page)

“I’m not sure why…” Aya conceded. “I guess if he set the spell before the Binding, using outside energies instead of his own… It is so… odd.”

Just then the darkness began to break up. Light began to stream through in shafts. The frigid air warmed and in moments the dark mass was gone, evaporating into nothingness and leaving a clear bright sky in its wake.

The destruction of Barda was even more evident in the Spherelight. The frightened few who remained ventured out of hiding. Some emerged from the woods. Two children peeked out from under an oiled canvas that had been stretched over an old skiff at the dock. All wore the same expression, skin pale under tanned faces as they huddled with their loved ones. Their eyes flittered about as if expecting the demons to reappear. The damage done to their village had not even sunk in yet, none were weeping.

Dusty and dirty, a woman and her child approached out of what was once a street. The woman’s auburn hair was disheveled and the bits of plant matter in it told that she had taken her daughter out of the city and hid when the trouble began. The child’s dirty face was streaked by dried tears, her dress ripped in several places. A tall wide-set man carrying a pitchfork trailed them and when they halted, he came to stand protectively beside his family. His visage was pinched- in pain from the gash on one arm and in worry for his wife and child- but when he laid eyes on the bowed and tied figure of the Elfkin, his pain was momentarily forgotten.

“That’s him! He is the one who set those creatures after us!” The man shouted, taking large strides forward, pitchfork ready. “That bastard, we did nothing to him!”

“Hold!” Serrtin said sharply, interceding her immense frame in the angry mans path.

“Wh-what is this?! Are you in league with this vile man? Why else would you protect him? I demand justice!”

“No, you demand vengeance.” Serrtin replied, her voice husky.

“Sir?” Came Aya’s softer voice.

“My name is Beltho and this is my wife Tipa and daughter Delep.”

“Beltho,” Aya said, bowing a gracious greeting. “My name is Aya Mythren and this is my companion Serrtin. We are Hunters. We work for the Circuit. It is our job to track down and capture wanted individuals and bring them in to face punishment for their crimes.”

“I have heard of the Circuit.” He responded, still wary. He dug the butt of his pitchfork into the ground. A few more Barda townsfolk found their way to stand nearby. Some looked more than ready to take out their aggression on the so-thought cause to their misery while he was still vulnerable.

“We have been assigned to bring in-” Aya almost stumbled over her words, realizing once again they had no idea what the Chase’s true name was. She though quickly, “- this man. I assure you, justice will be carried out. The destruction of Barda will not go unpunished.” Aya had said such before, to other towns where they had brought to bay a warranted individual. Always the townspeople were quick to strike back to the one who had wronged them. If the ending of the Chase’s freedom began in a populated area, there were always questions, always onlookers. As the best speaker of the team, it was appointed Aya’s part of the mission to soothe fears and explain what was going on. Usually the people would be receptive to what Aya told them- for the Circuit was a widely recognized organization- and expected the Hunters as the authority of the situation. Sometimes, depending on the area of
capture, the oftentimes victims would want to carry out justice of their own terms. That often led to problems. Sometimes it was difficult to protect the one who caused the surrounding people to become the victims in the first place. It was easy to see their point of view- more difficult to help them see the Hunters’.

Chapter 7

Night fell without further incident. Surprisingly so. The Elfkin- a prisoner now- was being much more cooperative than expected, so much so he was becoming suspicious.

Serrtin had looped the excess rope around the Chase’s body, securing his arms as well as his legs, making him look like a trussed Agatoth ready for slaughter. Despite the saurian’s drastic tying, he admirably managed to keep his balance sitting on his heels. He would not speak and bulked when asked to move (being made to do so only under threat of being dragged). Slowly, the shocked expression he wore faded to something else all together: disgusted resentment. Still he remained silent.

“So, I don’t get it- why the necklace?” Serrtin asked, sitting cross-legged on the ground. She leaned forward on one knee with her elbow.

“Kcrie told me she would need an item in which to Bind the spell, something personal to me. She said with a spell of this magnitude, she could not safely attach its anchor to herself. With her fluctuations in power levels, Kcrie felt it was better to make the necklace my Grandmother gave me the anchor for the Binding.”

His back to her, Aya did not see the elkin’s head rise slightly at the admission.

“Creative.” Serrtin remarked. “I am just glad this part is over.” She glared over at the bent figure of the prisoner, whose eyes were veiled by a waterfall of snowy hair.

Aya agreed with a nod. Her eyes were worried though. Just because they had the one they sought in their possession did not necessarily mean the rest of the mission would fall into line without adversity. Usually quite the opposite in fact. Now, trouble was right at their doorstop.

The fact she could not explain how the sorcerous Elfkin had cast such a spell as the darkness over Barda and managed to keep the spell alive even after sealing his powers was a bit grating. The sheer magnitude should have been like a beacon pointing back to him but what she had sensed from him during that time was on a smaller level. It was not adding up.

Looking over at him, Aya wondered what secrets were hidden behind those strange amber eyes. Why would such a talented mage do something so bad as to end up on a Circuit Bounty list? It never made much sense to someone like Aya, who believed talent should be used to better the world, not hinder it. She found herself wondering again what the pale-haired youth had done but then had to stop herself; it was not her job to know. And it was always for the best that she didn’t.

“Aya. Aya, stop daydreaming.”

“Oh! Wha? Sorry.”

“Agemeer said he is going to need help with dinner.” The Yarcka said with a stretch, reaching her hands high above her head.

The Wulf gave a bark of a laugh and shook his furry head. He had been pulling out their supplies and had mumbled something about help but he certainly hadn’t specified which of his companions he wanted assistance from.

~ ~ ~

He could not believe it had ended the way it had. Hunters. He had taken out Hunters before. So why not these? A girl, a lizard and their dog? Oh, and that Asrai.

He would get that damned water Fae… then he’d take out her foolish friends. Until the right time presented itself, he needed to be patient. They were persistent and with his powers- somehow- sealed, he would not get far.

And there was not just this rabble to worry about. There were other things far worse just waiting to get their claws on him. Without his magic to protect him, he was like a lame griite to a hungry wolf…

Thinking of wolves, he eyed the one nearby without turning his head. Unless he was mistaken, the wolf was helping prepare dinner. A strange group indeed. He’d need to be careful when it came time to kill them.

~ ~ ~

“Agemeer, who’s been a Hunter longer you or me? Okay then, that’s what I thought so why don’t you let me take care of this sorta stuff.”

“I just think, he should be-”

“The Chase- our prisoner- will not be allowed to eat, nor will he be untied. Perhaps if he actually asks for some scraps then maybe…” Serrtin said with a feral smile.

“Serrtin, that’s cruel,” Agemeer admonished.

“True but you don’t get to be as great a Hunter as me by bein’ ‘nice’.” Serrtin replied, baring her teeth. She snagged a slice of jerked beef and tossed it into her mouth. “Especially to the dregs of Demarian life such as that.”

Looking at him bound and (must be) feeling helpless, Aya didn’t think he much looked like dregs.

That night, after Kcrie woke to set the Boundary, the Bren did see a reaction from their captive. He picked up his head to glare at the Asrai with a hateful stare, ropes straining.

Agemeer opted to lay clear of the group to put his keen ears to better use and slept facing the Elfkin. Serrtin kept her flamberge handy as always.

The young Bren mage woke once in the earliest hours of morn and through the moonlight, she watched him. He sat awkwardly, bound as he was, but managed to relieve his weight from his lower legs by bringing his ankles to the side. He was awake, Aya could see the light gleaming off his eyes. He had a strange expression upon his face and blank in a way she could only describe as trying hard not to fall asleep. In the end, sleep won out and he curled up on the ground as comfortably as the tight bonds would allow.

What that was about Aya could not even speculate.

~ ~ ~

In the morning, Aya was only slightly surprised to see the Elfkin still sleeping. Serrtin unceremoniously hefted his form up from the ground by the rope around his back. “Wake up, Yierhna.”

He awoke and was instantly surly. “I am not Yierhna.”

“Oh really? So you do speak after all- I was wondering if I had just dreamed it all. Alright then if you aren’t a Yierhna, what are you?”

The youth did not respond, his face reddening from being hung in the air like a trophy. “Fine, don’t answer.” Sitting him back on the ground, Serrtin said, “And we’ll have no more of your antics.”

“He attempted the ropes last night.” Agemeer informed Aya, who had slept through the whole thing.

“If you behave yourself, you can have something to eat, that sound reasonable Elf?”

“Don’t call me that.” The prisoner snarled.

“That really raises your hackles, doesn’t it? Too bad. And you with no magic or monsters to summon. I ain’t loosening your ropes, so if you are going to eat…” The Yarcka dangled a strip of river quail bought in Barda.

“… monsters…” He said out loud softly, not meaning to be overheard.

“Right. Those damn-blasted things you destroyed Barda with. Did you forget about what you did already?!” The Chase did not respond but looked reflective instead. Sickened, Serrtin snarled, “I guess it’s not for us to decide what happens to your sorry hide once we haul your carcass back to the Client. I hope they nail you to a wall, kid.” The Yarcka gestured to Aya to take over giving the undeserving fiend the bite of sustenance. She paced away fuming. Slapping a defenseless captive (though appealing at the moment) was not something she was willing to let herself do.

Aya knelt a safe distance away. She thought she saw something in his expression before he turned harsh eyes in her direction. Apparently, the final destination was nothing like forced marriage or fines but something much worse. And with his magic sealed, it was false bravado that masked his eyes. Aya could almost feel sorry for him, as young as he looked. Almost. Only a madman would have done such to a peaceful village like Barda.

With that thought firm in her mind, Aya held out the river quail meat pinched between two fingers. She kept her own expression schooled and met those fierce eyes square.

He made no move to eat the proffered meat. Aya moved closer and he raised his nose, drawing back.

“Aya, if the little fool does not want to eat, let him starve. On the way back to the Hold, if he doesn’t have the energy to walk, I’ll take the pleasure of dragging him through every bramble bush and mud puddle out there.”

When it came time to leave camp, Serrtin undid the ties around the Elfkin’s legs. His fight was short-lived when it came to being tethered to the horse. The mare did not much like it much either. Agemeer bounded ahead, eager to get the arduous trip back over with, while the saurian warrior trailed behind to keep an eye on the captive.

The mage rode atop her mare with the rope connected to a specially made loophole in the cantle of the saddle. The loophole went through the frame of the saddle to keep even the most insistent from escaping because not many could out pull a full-grown horse. The rope lay across her left thigh. She could feel him trip before hearing it.

Picking himself up from the ground once again, the Elfkin cursed to himself. Noting the new grass stain on his once pristine white pants did nothing to improve his temper.

It was completely humiliating! He was a Master Mage, a gifted fighter and now-
now
- he was reduced to a common thief drug behind a horse by a no-talent woman. Normally he would have seen some sort of perverse humor to the situation if it were happening to someone else. But he was not finding anything amusing at the moment. He tested the ropes once more to no avail. Even if he could get them loose, then what? He was still without his magic and that could be just as bad. And that Yarcka… he eyed her over his shoulder surreptitiously.

~ ~ ~

By their noontime rest stop, the captive decided that there was no way the spell was going to fade away with the passage of time. There was also no way that blasted Asrai or the Yarcka was going to give him the opportunity he so needed. The wolf, the Elfkin got the feeling, was much more sentient than the average wolf but it apparently had no leverage in the Binding spell. That left the girl.

She was a mage- not a novice to be sure but held a certain weakness all young magic users had. He could see it in her eyes. A weakness to be exploited. But how could he when that hulking lizard never let him out of her sight?

There would be opportunities, he had to believe in that, otherwise he was simply walking toward his own demise. The Elfkin would need to make those opportunities come about. With a slight grin, he knew he could wear them down. Or at least one of them.

He was not what they thought. He was no ordinary creature. They suspected his Elven heritage but when they found out his latter heritage, they would begin to think twice about treating him like just another routine captive in their pathetic line of work.

Chapter 8