Dusk Falling (Book 1) (8 page)

“Noch te vru!” One of them exclaimed.

“Nan set esten?” Came a question that prompted them to glance at one another. Aya recognized the Western Demarian dialect though she couldn’t translate the words.

“Vrasin! Vu shi mrat gaana!” With that, one of the hooded men hefted his blade and threw it like a javelin. The sword sailed through the air with a high-pitched whistle to ‘thump’ into the tree scant inches from the white-clothed Elfkin’s leg.

He never flinched. Slowly, deliberately, he moved his foot to rest on the haft of the sword, stopping its wavering movement. Leaning forward over it, he rested his arm on his leg. A lock of cloud-white hair fell over one of his strikingly-colored eyes.

It all ended quickly, abruptly. One moment, the remaining four charged, giving voice to their move. Then those voices were suddenly silenced. The next moment, he had leapt off the branch and in the time it took for his feet to hit the ground, he had already gathered the energy to launch an offensive. In his hands boiled a darkness, a sphere that seemed to draw in all the light that trickled through the canopy. The second he touched the dirt of the forest floor, he threw the sphere forward.

The black sphere shot out and then split into four, each seeking out one of the cloaked men. They flew like they had a mind of their own and when they located their targets they became like ballista arrowheads shooting through the four men’s bodies as if nothing but air was blocking their passage. In a spray of crimson, the black
spheres burst from their backs before disappearing into the forest. Small explosions signaled the magic ended its time at the expense of neighboring trees.

As he straightened, the four cloaked attackers- now the attacked- tumbled unceremoniously to the ground without so much as a sound, gaping bloody holes in their chests.

In the eerie silence that followed, the Circuit Hunters studied the Chase, the man they were now positive was the one they were sent to find.

His hair was long and a perfect white color, it dripped into his eyes carelessly and danced in the wild as if possessed by spirits. He paid it no heed as it hindered his vision (if it truly did so) and even through a veil of snow, the stark brilliant color of his eyes glowed. The skin near his eyes was tinted a blue-gray color not from lack of sleep but due to heritage, that much was obvious. The upturned ends to the outer corners of his eyelids and the long slender ears bespoke Elven blood.

The clothes he wore were peculiar for someone listed as a Triple Sign by the Circuit. White was not a color chosen often by those considered by nature ‘bad’. He wore a simple loose cotton shirt, unbelted, and pants. The sleeves hung long, covering all but the tips of his gloved hands and around his biceps were two thin straps. He did not wear boots but simple leather shoes instead, the kind worn by many of Aya’s people on the Island of Bren, much like the style and cut of the collar of his shirt, the eye-and-loop buttons that ran down his chest. Too much alike that is could be no coincidence. It
was
Bren. But why?

Crimson speckles dotting her face, sword arm slick with blood, Serrtin faced him with a stiff stance. Her brown eyes glittered; this was the moment, the crux that balanced what the Hunter had done and what will do next. It was all dependent on her words and the Chase’s reaction. “Under the bylaws written by the Circuit, we have taken contract to bring the Warranted in. You will surrender quietly and without struggle. You will then be taken in to the nearest Circuit Hold where you will await the Contracted party’s decision on your fate. Resistance will only bring duress and your surrender is unconditional. Do you understand?”

The amber-eyed youth’s half-cocked grin faded into something akin to a disgusted snarl. He glared at the Yarcka challengingly under lowered brows. He did not respond verbally.

Aya could not help but stare at the carnage around her, the cooling bodies that had moments ago been living. One of the cloaked mens’ hoods had fallen back, revealing the black wrap around the lower half of his face. He was, had been, Larren. His eyes were wide and unseeing and even through the cloth of his headwrap, Aya could
see his mouth was open from shock. “Such power,” Her mind registered. “I could barely sense the draw of energy and even then there was no way I could have hoped to have countered that attack. But why did they go after him? And why did he react so violently so suddenly? What correlation exists between these cloaked brigands and he? They recognized him… so does that mean we were fighting the wrong enemy?”

The nameless Elfkin took a step forward and planted his feet firmly. He looked about to say something and then stopped. An odd expression flickered over his features and he quickly lost interest in the new challenge, orange eyes darting into the shadows as if expecting someone- or something- to appear.

Suddenly, he was up in the boughs of the trees and moving from one to the next as easily as jumping rocks in a stream. Then he was gone from sight, vanishing into the foliage like a wraith.

“After him! We can’t let him get away now!” Serrtin shouted, hoisting her flamberge onto her shoulder. Despite her injuries and flagging strength, the saurian gave chase.

“What about-”

“Leave the mare! We’ll find it after we’ve subdued that… that whatever he is! Come on!” Serrtin shouted.

The mage darted after, following the crashing footfalls until she caught up enough to follow with her eyes instead of her ears. Aya had no trouble with the terrain; Serrtin was clearing a path even a far-sighted Trogan could follow.

~ ~ ~

“There!” Serrtin called back, her eyes marking his passage between branches. A flash of white as quick as a bird’s wing, his movement uncannily skilled. Crashing through the underbrush and saplings alike like a fiend, Serrtin cared not for grace or subtlety at the moment. There was only one thing she cared about so close to a target as she was.

The figure halted his passage through the treetops without warning and crouched down, one hand on the branch for balance. His eyes darted around, head cocked as if listening. Slowly, as if just noticing their existence, the Elfkin looked down at them.

His visage was filled with light as a bolt of blue flashed from the small dark-haired girl, marking her as mage-born. He did not utter a sound as the branch on which he crouched splintered and cracked inches from his feet where the bolt hit. The branch then broke and came crashing down in a cacophony of sound and green.

From the height he had fallen from, he should have been hurt or at least disoriented but the amber-eyed youth landed so softly that magic was suspect. He gave them his utmost attention finally. His expression was hard, posture rigid.

The Yarcka was no threat to him. Physical attacks did not worry him even from one so impressive. He felt confident he could take out the saurian as readily as the cloaked men the pair had- for some reason- been fighting. No, quicker. There was only one of her.

The girl with the long black hair and dark eyes was watching his every move, judging. She did not appear as confident as her companion but capable still, she had already proved that much. Obviously a defensive spell was on her lips ready for the moment she believed he would make his move. But no matter how fast she thought she was, he would be the faster.

“Bounty Hunters from the Circuit.” He spoke at last, “You have my full attention now, if that’s what you hoped to gain.” His voice was soft and low, tone even, but it traveled as well as if he had shouted.

“Confident, aren’t you?” Serrtin thought to herself. She asked, “Will you come quietly and face your charges or do you choose to waive your well-being here and now? This is the last time I will ask this.”

“Hmmm,” He responded with a sly smile. He brought his hands away from his side almost like a gesture of surrender. Dark smoke began to pour from the bottom of his sleeves like mist. It thickened and took shape. In a span of three breaths, it hardened into its final form. Reminiscent of the claws of hard-shelled sea creatures, both were a shiny smooth ebony that split into two long ‘prongs’ that ended in sharp serrated edges. To Serrtin, who hated magical weapons above all else, he reminded her of a feral cat baring its claws in anger.

Out of the dense foliage behind the fallen branch, Agemeer made his move. Hoping to catch the Chase with his back turned, he sprinted forward with a growl. And as he did, he played right into the youths trap for the Chase had known the Wulf had been there, watching from the shadows.

Just as Agemeer, moving too fast for any Larren to avoid, pushed off his feet, putting full force into the blow, the Chase made a leap of his own (straight up into the air a full ten feet). Gathering his dark energies into his
hands, he literally remained suspended floating in midair, as he made to use the same magic that he had used to kill the four cloaked men scant minutes earlier.

Aya did not think. She reacted.

She saw Agemeer run out of his cover and, by the tightening of his eyes, she knew the Chase saw it as well. He looked at her and Aya knew instantly what his plans were.

It went past her mind that she wasn’t fast enough as she ran toward her friend. Agemeer, missing his target, dropped down hard in a shuffle of loose leaves and soil. His eyes tracked the Elfkin’s leap above him, mouth coming open in a very Larren expression of surprise.

The black sphere reflected its darkness eerily onto his face seconds before the Chase launched it.

Aya threw herself forward, one arm around the Wulf’s neck, the other she held up to ward away the blow as if she could. A shield spell came instantaneously, she put her desperation and need to protect behind it. Without a thought to the outcome, she swung out her arm and batted away the black sphere like an impending rock.

Somehow, miraculously, the barrier took the blow. It did not absorb it but caused it instead to ricochet madly. The amber-eyed youth could only stare in shock as his attack was deflected straight back at him.

The sphere hit him square in the left shoulder, just missing by a handspread from a lethal blast, and was punctuated by an expulsion of breath. The impact almost spun him completely around in the air. He lost control of his levitation spell and fell but caught it again before hitting the ground. Stumbling to one knee, he held his bloodied shoulder with his right hand. A flood of white hair fell over his visage, masking his expression.

Serrtin had never seen anything like what she had witnessed, nothing so spectacular and nothing like that from her Bren comrade. A matter of mere seconds it had lasted… Blinking quickly, she sought to shove aside her thoughts and worries. Now was a prime apprehension possibility and she could not lose it. Trying not to look at Aya and Agemeer, she hardened her features and moved forward. “Do you yield?”

The Chase’s breathing was labored as blood flowed down his arm, soaking his sleeve. “Not… on… your life…”

Despite the pain he felt, he got to his feet. And attacked head on.

The saurian got her blade up to deflect his first savage blow as well as his second. The ebony claws racked at the swords metal, ringing soundly as if made of some sort of metal itself. She did not remain off-guard for long and began to block him easier no matter the savage speed that would have been unbelievable had Serrtin not been
the one to witness it first hand, injured as he was. But she could not get an attack in edgewise. He was simply too fleet.

However, the Chase could not keep up the frantic pace for long with one arm streaming blood and began to tire, his blows falling softer, and Serrtin saw her chance to go on the offensive.

As he drew his uninjured arm back across his chest, going into a backhanded slash, Serrtin pivoted and brought her weight forward onto her blade. The Elfkin registered the weakness in his defense, bringing up his other claw.

The subsequent hit knocked him away like he was a mere child. This time he did not catch himself so gracefully. Slowly rising to his feet, he knew in his current condition he would lose. Moving purely out of will, energies depleted, he made one final bid for freedom. Though he despised running, he knew in this case he must. The black sphere’s came to him less willingly than before and it took a lot more concentration to split them into four.

His vision fuzzy, the Chase tossed the spheres haphazardly, not aiming. He heard the girl-
that mage
- cry out and the explosions as the spheres hit the forest floor. In the dust, he was lost to their sight and again took to the trees.

“Aya! Agemeer! Are you alright?!” Serrtin yelled, eyes tearing from the dust in the air.

Coughing, the mage called out, “Yes, we’re okay! Where is he?”

“He escaped.” Serrtin growled, swishing her hand in front of her as the dirt settled once again.

“Let’s…” Aya coughed, “go after him.”

“I think,” Agemeer said with a concerned tone. “he is heading toward Barda.”

Chapter 6

Serrtin tied off without wincing the gash on her thigh utilizing some shredded cloth as Agemeer tended to his own in typical canine fashion. They were losing precious time and it grated but they would need to be prepared. The Chase was sorely wounded and it would make him easy to locate but, like a cornered and injured animal, he would not hesitate to strike out to kill. Not that he had been hesitating before getting hit by his own attack.

Traversing the forestlands, the team tracked him by the spots of blood on the ground and on the verdant leaves. He was not trying to mask his passage. Agemeer only needed his Wulf’s nose to follow the trail.

Aya, Agemeer and Serrtin kept close to each other, the saurian in the lead. Although their guards were up, it took them several moments to realize the gradual darkening of the air had nothing to do with the foliage around them. It was unnatural for middle of the day and it was only getting darker. Silently, they glanced at each other and continued on, Agemeer slinking forward to pace Serrtin. His night vision coming unexpectedly handy.

Footfalls padding softly, eyes straining in the deepening darkness, the trio could only think of themselves walking into another ambush- this time knowingly. Aya bespelled her eyes to enhance her vision. Tensely, they continued to where the trees had begun to thicken, impeding their path.