Rebellion (31 page)

“Ready?” I whispered, feeling my heart accelerate in my chest.

“Yes.” At the sight of Nathan raising his left hand, I plunged my way toward Bartholomew. A bright glare of light beamed through the storm.

The blood-drinkers covered their eyes as the strong light touched their skin. Bartholomew cupped his hands over his face and ducked his head.

My arms raised the sword in my hand as I approached my enemy. With all the strength I could muster, I lashed my sword against him, wounding his right leg. The moment my blade lifted, I felt his hand grasp the nape of my neck, thrusting my body to the ground.

As I was dragged against the mud, I used my hands to propel my body upward while flapping my wings. I tilted my face and caught sight of Nathan throwing himself against Bartholomew.

While he was still in the air, the blood-drinker with the dark curls collided with him, hurling his body against the wounded white dragon. His sword fell from his grasp. The beast wailed as Nathan’s body thudded against its rib cage. The blood-drinker with dark curls rushed his way to Nathan, and two others of his kind followed. They pinned his body against the ground.

Bartholomew chuckled. A death stare stamped on his face, his left knee supported his body weight.

“I thought you and your companions had abandoned us all,” he said in a spiteful voice. “By now, you should know that a wound inflicted by your blade against my body will heal in seconds.”

“I was still the one that wounded you.” I wiped the mud from my face. “I was also the one who killed one of your kind.”

The hooded blood-drinker that guarded the prison clumped my way with his head held high. He removed the cloak, unveiling his face. A long, thin scar cut across his forehead. Dark circles surrounded his midnight eyes. His beard hid his cheeks.

“Why did you return, huh?” he inquired, biting the corner of his bottom lip. “You could have run off into the wilderness with your companions.” His eyes narrowed to slits.

“Now, Dionisius, maybe Isaac missed us.” Creases appeared on Bartholomew’s forehead. “Or maybe…he misses his friends.”

My eyebrows rose.

“Did you really believe those boys had the tenacity to escape this village on their own?” My eyes widened in fear. “I had someone follow all of you while you ran through the forest in a failed attempt to save your friends.”

I lowered my sword, my face shrouded with disbelief.

Dionisius clapped his hands in mockery. “It was a beautiful sight to behold.” He let out a cynical laugh. “The moment you heard your companion’s screams,” he lifted his right eyebrow, “you flapped your wings and flew toward him with such grace. You almost looked like a real hero.”

“You bastard.” The tip of my sword was aimed at him.

Bartholomew marched in my direction.

“We know the Nephilins have the Book of Letters within their grasp.” A crooked smile curved on his face. “And we know exactly how to lure them back and make them fall into our trap.”

“Where are they?” Anger had taken ahold of me.

“They are locked up in the prison with all the others. I am afraid you will not get to see them.” dragon-like wings sprung from his back, stretching to full length.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Nathan straining against the blood-drinkers’ strong grasps. The blood-drinker with dark curls had his right knee pressed on Nathan’s lower back. The other two had ahold of his arms.

Where is Arundel?
I thought, darting a quick stare in the direction of the prison. Had Sathees also deserted us? The people continued to shout and scream for help, banging against the strong wooden door.

Was Bartholomew speaking the truth? Had they captured Xylia and Demetre? How did they know about the two boys?

I lifted my eyes to the sky as two blood-drinkers hovered over us. They flew down like eagles ready to snatch up helpless prey. I had not forgotten Dahmian’s flaming red hair and Ashtar’s thin, pale face. Dahmian wore a laced gray shirt with a scarlet coat that fell above his knees. Fresh blood stained his boots. Ashtar wore a beige doublet with intricate golden patterns. A brown belt was wrapped around his waist.

“I see you had time to find yourselves some new clothes.” Bartholomew scowled, his eyes trailing across their bodies.

They looked at me. Their noses wrinkled as their eyebrows pulled down.

“And I see that you had the time to find yourself a new toy to play with,” Dahmian said in a spiteful tone.

Ashtar was quiet; his black eyes fixed on me.

“The service you requested from us has been completed,” Dahmian informed Bartholomew.

“Good,” he whispered. “It won’t be long until the Nephilins and that Fallen Ruler come looking for her.”

Confusion stirred within me. Could it be that they had also captured Nephele? Was she the one they spoke of?

My thoughts were interrupted by the white dragon’s roars. The creature wobbled its thick neck, rising from the ground. It stood on its four legs.

“Why is the dragon able to stand?” Bartholomew shouted at the top of his lungs. He darted an angry stare at the three blood-drinkers that held Nathan against the ground. “Bhor, did you feed it human flesh?”

“Yes, Bartholomew,” replied the blood-drinker with the dark hair and vest. His eyes were the color of fresh blood. “We fed it fresh meat. We gutted those two kids that were with the red-headed girl and the other boy.”

I did not want to believe that they had captured them, but after hearing Bhor’s accounts, I knew that they had Xylia and Demetre.

The white dragon unfurled its strong wings to their massive width.

“Tame this beast.” Bartholomew was desperate. The blood-drinkers did not move from their place. They stood at bay, watching the dragon regain its full strength.

While they had their eyes set on the beast, I glanced at the prison. I was relieved to see Arundel standing at its wooden doors. The patterns on his skin glistened while he lifted the thick log that sealed both doors.

I squinted my eyes as a sudden bright flash of light radiated. Once the light receded, I noticed that Nathan had broken free from the grasp of those that held him. I glanced around, attempting to find him, but he was nowhere in sight.

“Where is the Underwarrior?” Dahmian’s eyes searched the sky. “Where is he?”

Bohr and the other two blood-drinkers stared in a daze.

“Did you see where he went, Daine?” Bohr asked the blood-drinker that stood next to him. Like Ashtar, he had no hair on his head. A tattered red beard hid most of his jaw and cheeks. His eyes had a lively green hue.

“I was standing next to you the whole time. Of course I do not know where the Underwarrior went,” he replied with an angry stare. He set his eyes on his other companion.

“Do not look at me, Daine.” The other blood-drinker paced away from his companions. “I am as confused as all of you.” He had his tangled black hair behind his ears. His eyes were the color of the midday sky. He wore a rugged, brown coat with a thick leather belt. His boots were smothered in mud and blood.

I squinted my eyes, recognizing his familiar face. He was the blood-drinker that I had seen drinking the blood that poured out of Sela’s body.

“Anwill, enough babbling.” Bartholomew pointed his finger at the white dragon. “We must tame this creature.”

No one responded to Bartholomew’s order. They feared the consuming flames the dragon could release upon them.

The white dragon’s roars loudened. The ground trembled as the beast sank its claws into the damp soil. I was alarmed when I caught sight of its quivering jaw. It glowered at the blood-drinkers; smoke billowed from its nostrils. The beast flapped its wings, raising its body from the ground. Without warning, it revealed its razor-sharp teeth. It recoiled its head backwards and, in great fury, released fire over the blood-drinkers.

Bohr, Daine, and Anwill dodged the flames, casting their bodies in the opposite direction. In an instant, wings appeared on their backs. Bartholomew, Dahmian, Ashtar, and Dionisius left the ground, soaring into the sky. The dragon was agitated, setting ablaze all that stood in its path.

Without hesitating, I glided to where Arundel stood. I knew it was only a matter of time until one of them saw us.

Before I could reach the prison, Dahmian descended in my direction and, with the sole of his right foot, plunged my body to the ground. My chest thudded against the broken pieces of burnt wood that lay scattered.

“Open the doors, Arundel!” I managed to shout across the sounds of battle as I tried to recover my breath. An uncomfortable pain filled my lungs.

With sweat trickling down his brow, Arundel opened the prison doors. The people raced their way out of the building, screaming as they caught sight of the battle that unfolded around them. My heart accelerated in my chest while my eyes searched for Xylia and Demetre.

Ashtar and Dionisius wheeled in the air and dove their way to the people, attacking them with flashes of light that caused massive explosions. Bodies flew across the village; limbs scattered around us as the blood-drinkers struck them.

I dashed toward the fearful crowd.

“Xylia!” I pushed many out of my path as I looked for them. “Demetre!”

I heard a loud whooshing sound coming from above me. I shot up an alarmed stare, catching sight of the white dragon hovering above the burning village. The buildings that still remained standing were now enveloped in bright, blue flames. An ashen smoke covered the air.

“Xylia!” I shouted once again. “Demetre!”

Two blood-drinkers came into sight through the smoke cloud. As fast as the eye could see, they leaped atop the desperate crowd. They grabbed those that were within their reach and sank their fangs into the people’s skins. Like mountain lions feasting on their prey, they ripped off the arms and legs of those that were around them, drinking from the flowing blood.

With heavy breaths, Arundel rushed to my side, dodging the scattered debris that fell like rain. Flashes of lightning lit up the clouds, brightening the darkness caused by the storm.

“Where are the others?” I was desperate. “Have you seen Nathan, Xylia, and Demetre?”

“No, I did not see them,” he said between short breaths.

“They were taken.” I coughed due to the lingering smoke. “Xylia and Demetre were captured. We must find them.”

Arundel scowled, raising his head.

“Look over there,” he whispered, pointing to something behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw Bartholomew entering one of the abandoned houses. With watchful eyes, he surveyed his surroundings, ensuring that none followed him.

“Whatever he is looking for must be of extreme importance,” I said. “They might be inside that house.”

We started toward the house. Agony struck my heart with each scream I heard. I wondered if these people would turn into Shadows. Alistar must have shared with them some truth about the Creator. I struggled to ignore the children being murdered around us by the bloodthirsty creatures that attacked them. A mixture of blood, mud, and rain covered the earth beneath our feet.

“Get down,” I said, lowering my body as we approached the house.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Nathan amidst the trees. His gaze was set on us but he made no attempt to come our way.

“Nathan,” I whispered. “Are you alright?”

He gave me a quick nod. “Look in there.” He mouthed the words to me, cocking his head toward the house.

I lifted my eyes to look through the clouded glass of the broken window. A cold chill shot down my spine as my eyes absorbed the unthinkable.

“What is it?” Arundel whispered, shaking me by the shoulder.

I was at a loss for words. Inside the house were Demetre, Xylia, and the most unthinkable prisoner of all—Nephele. They had pierced her right leg with a rusted sword, leaving the blade inside. Blood seeped from her wounds, staining her dark garments. She was in a stupor.

Demetre and Xylia had their hands tied behind their backs. Their faces were covered with scratches and bruises.

“Well, well, well.” Bartholomew spread out his arms as he shrugged his wings. “To think that I have in the same room Isaac’s most loyal companions and his worst enemy.”

He bent down, grasping Xylia by the cheeks, standing inches away from her chapped lips.

“I wonder how you taste, girl.” He trailed his tongue across his lips, his long pair of fangs coming into view.

She recoiled her head, furrowed her brow, and spit on his lips.

“How does that taste, monster?” She shrugged her shoulders.

Bartholomew’s lips curved into a menacing smile. He leaned in closer to her.

“Leave her alone!” Demetre shouted, trying to break free from the ropes that tied him.

He trailed his lips across Xylia’s ears and neck. She trembled at his touch. My hands turned into fists.

“I will kill you, girl,” he said, standing back on his feet. “But not today. I still need you.”

Arundel raised his head, glancing inside the house. He gasped, lowering his head in shock.

I darted Nathan a desperate stare.

“We have to help them,” I mumbled, feeling my heart race inside my chest.

The thundering roars of the white dragon echoed as the battle raged. The screams of the people were ceasing—a sign that many of them had been killed by the blood-drinkers.