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Authors: A. R. Ivanovich

Haven (War of the Princes) (41 page)

BOOK: Haven (War of the Princes)
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As he fastened the other end of the rope to Dylan's wrists, I heard him say, "Did you really think I'd let you keep it for yourself? Listen for her screams. When they stop, I'll be coming for you. Maybe I'll even let you put her out of her misery."

           
Stakes stood and hit the back of his warhorse's rump. The shadow beast squealed and leapt to a run, dragging Dylan with it into the darkness.

           
"I hope you don't mind my impatience," Stakes said to me, conversationally.

           
It was so
personal
. It was just my murderer and me in a loose copse of trees, with a storm rolling in and a flare burning out beside us. I wanted to retch. I wanted him to die. This monster of a man was the purest manifestation of evil that I could have ever imagined.

           
"I'm actually rather excited. Draining a Lodestone... the possibilities are limitless. I'll outweigh the Margrave for certain. I could become as strong as our Prince, or very nearly! I can settle for that... for the time being. Oh,
tisk
, why so angry little one?" he asked me, stepping ever closer.

           
"I
hate
you," I said through my gritted teeth.

           
"Come now, I hate you too, but that’s no reason to be negative," he chided me.

           
The closer he came to me, the greater height my panic reached. I couldn't move. It was maddening. I couldn't run or fight. His horrific face taunted me. I really
was
going to die. It was an impossible concept to come to terms with.

           
I thought of my lifeless body, lying here in the foreign hills, disappearing into the ground until only my skeleton remained, half buried by weeds and soil. I'd never see my father again. I'd never get to tell him how much I loved him, how sorry I was for never appreciating his trust. I'd never see my little brother Kevin grow up. Ruby and Kyle would think I'd just run away for good. None of them would even know I was dead, alone, murdered beside a tree that was as lifeless as I would be.

           
"I stopped you," I said, grasping for the only thing that could renew my pride and remind me why I’d chosen this fate. "I stopped you from reaching the rest of us."

           
"You are certainly not stopping me, with your cliché, dramatic sense of martyrdom. You may be delaying me. I'll admit that much. But there is a chance that you've actually
helped
me find them," he said, standing directly in front of me. The nearness made me shudder but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't pull away.

           
"There's a rumor, a myth even, that to personally drain a Lodestone allows one to inherit said Lodestone's Abilities. What is a legend if not a fragmented historical fact unexplored by science? If there's any truth to it, I'll be the first to know," Stakes gloated.

           
Despair slammed into me like a rockslide, battering what small light I had kindled in my shrinking heart. I really had ruined everything. I couldn't even die without sabotaging my entire world. So shaken by fear and sorrow, I couldn't focus enough to bring out The Spark. It was like my Ability evaporated. I wondered if he was somehow blocking it, similar to the way he'd brought it out of me before. It was hopeless.

           
"You're bluffing," I said, refusing to cry. He wouldn't get the satisfaction.

           
He laughed at me. "And why would I be bluffing?"

           
"You," I breathed raggedly. I may have been hyperventilating and not noticed. "You like to torture people."

           
"You're right about that much, but I'm not bluffing, I assure you," he said. "Look at me. Not over there, look at
me
. Do you have any family? Mommy perhaps? I've already killed mine. What do girls your age love? Boys? No, I nearly forgot, I've already taken care of him. Friends? Have any of those for me? A pretty little face I can crush? What does she look like? What would she think when she saw me? Would she even know how afraid she should be?"

           
"No," I seethed, wishing that the hatred pouring from my eyes could have a physical effect. I could see Ruby in my mind, completely innocent prey for this twisted monster. I couldn't let it happen. I couldn't let him get them. "
No
."

           
"
Yes
," he corrected me. "They're all as good as mine you know. It’s a good cause. When I get to them I'll drain them and kill them. I'd probably be merciful to most. Do you know what would happen if I delivered them to the Prince? No, I suppose you wouldn't. You'd all be slaves and batteries, fuel for his war machine. You'd be drained, slowly. It would take at least a year to kill you, but it would also consume all of the liquid in your body. In tests with regular subjects, the eyes are the first to dry up. I always wondered why the eyes would go first. You should really be thanking me."

           
"Never," I told him, overwhelmed by the horror of his description.

           
"Oh well... Can't win them all," he said casually and planted the thick, square copper device in the center of my chest. I cried out in pain as its teeth sunk easily into my flesh. He used a clawed hand to turn a dial on the side of the draining tool and it hummed in response. The device was active.

           
"This is when you beg," he suggested.

           
My refusal was silent. I was afraid that if I opened my mouth I'd cry from the pain or break down and plead for my release.

           
It’s strange how in the most deadly of instances, time slows nearly to a halt. I could feel the draining device warming up, its humming ready to reach a culmination that would begin to steal my life away.

           
A drop of rain touched my arm. Black clouds roiled above us, and the plants and trees rippled, cowering in response. The dead tree stood solemnly by, its broken, leafless branches no longer bending to the whims of the living. I couldn't see
Florian
but I knew he was there, nearby somewhere, too well trained to abandon his master.

           
I remembered the sickening thump I'd heard when this very same machine drained
Fallux
. It was coming and each pulse would tear away my life force.

           
It’s true what they say; at least it was for me. You do see a bit of your life flashing before your eyes before you die. I saw myself as a little girl, playing with my mother and father, before they separated. So blissfully sheltered, I was truly happy. Then came the memories of my mom leaving, and all the mischief I caused in
Rivermarch
. I was always trying to get away somehow. Escape. I’d never realized I was acting like her, my mother. In a way, I was always leaving too. I hadn’t made the connection before because I justified my actions by knowing I'd always come back. That was what had made us different, in my mind. I was an idiot. I wondered how much hurt I really caused my father. He'd lost his wife and his daughter couldn't be far enough away from him. I'd spent my life playing these games. Now all that I wanted in the world was to be home.

           
Thump.

           
Everything stopped.

           
The reverberation slammed through me, dull, heavy and impossibly strong. It pushed outward pouring through my bones to my muscles, and when it reached my skin I thought it would break free, tearing trillions of tiny cuts to make an elaborate jigsaw of my flesh. Something whispered to me that my skin wasn't broken, that what was happening was completely internal, but I couldn't believe that. And then, just like the shore of the ocean I'd so recently been introduced to, the pulse began to suck back, drawn to the power of the machine lodged in my chest. Words fail to describe the flaying I felt, raking, searing and burning its way through me. So acute was the pain, I felt that the world would crumble with age before I was free of its torment.

           
By the time it did subside, I was gasping for air with raw lungs. I knew from memory and from my gut instinct that one more pulse would drain me of color and take away my sentience.

           
My heart was left fluttering, doing its best to keep me alive. It was a futile struggle. I wouldn't be myself after Stakes completely drained me. I’d just be a shell, feebly clinging to life for a short day. He'd probably kill me after he had what he wanted. Would he force Dylan to be my executioner?

           
It was too much, all of it. Stakes killed Rune. His command killed Leila March. If he had his way, he'd steal my life and use my own energy to find and slaughter the peaceful people of Haven. When would the ravages of his wickedness stop?

           
In those few moments after the machine's first assault upon me, my thoughts and fears cried out in such unison that their message took less than a minute to convey.

           
No one stood in his way to protect the many innocent lives that would lay crumpled in his wake. No one was coming to my rescue.

           
Before I knew it, I was staring up at Stakes' jagged face. My vision, or at least my comprehension of my surroundings had returned. The flare light was flickering, and rain poured off of his chin. I was soaking wet. When had that happened?

           
Aside from the rain, we remained in the very same position, facing one another. There was an eerie glint of joy in Stakes’ eyes as he studied mine. He didn't blink. It was like he didn't want to miss a second of my torture. The sick bastard was enjoying killing me.

           
A flash of lightning lit up the dead tree near us.

           
I could feel the humming of the draining machine, warming up again. This time, I wouldn't come back to think or see.

           
A second flash and I saw something else: a white tree. Its full lacework of branches were bare of leaves but not dead. It almost glowed, lighting the torrent of wind and water that crashed around it. Violently undulating swells turned to waves and struck the rocks that the white tree clung to with its pale roots. Wind howled, churning the inky black clouds overhead and tried with all its elemental might to rip the tree free from its hold. But the tree did not move. It stood, glowing brighter than ever, unmoved by all of the world's destruction. The tree would not break.

           
And neither would I.

           
There was a buzzing in my ears.

           
The strongest emotion I'd ever felt charged into me. It was like the feral roar of every predator in the heat of its greatest hunt, and like the unwavering zeal of every prey, fleeing for their lives. Hunting to live or running to live, it was all the same.

           
You will not stop me. I will not lose. You will not catch me, not ever.

           
I will not fall.

           
The buzzing was growing louder.

           
I stared Stakes, my greatest fear, straight in the face, and even he could see the change in me.
 

           
It was defiance that I felt, and it burned through me like the flames of the sun.

           
His eyes grew wide in comprehension. Words did not threaten him. He was a creature who understood instinct and action. He tensed, visibly and glared at me, suddenly afraid.

           
His reaction didn't matter. His reflexes were slow. I broke his command of me like a lantern cuts the darkness. Pinpricks washed my skin as though my limbs had fallen asleep beneath some weight that was not my own. Pitching forward a step and clenching my teeth, I grabbed his arms.

           
"I will see you dead!" he screamed at me, spitting in his rage. His words hardly reached me over the boom of the buzzing sound in my ears.

           
I felt the pitch of the draining device reaching the crescendo that would send me into oblivion.

           
"No," I told him.

           
Then, gripping his gnarled forearms with all of my strength, I let the buzzing out.

           
Everything turned white.

Chapter 34: A Certain Picture

 

 

 

 

 

           
Wind ripped at my hair and scarf. The light was so strong I knew it would blind me if I'd opened my eyes. My determination did not falter, even though I felt myself burning.

 

 

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BOOK: Haven (War of the Princes)
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