--The Fourth Realm--

A fanfic taking place in the Realms of the Blood, created by

Anne Bishop whom I worship and pay tribute to every day.

Just kidding. Or so you think.

(Written by the Great and Powerful Keski,

spell checked by Microsoft Works Word Processor)

---

Chapter XII

Dangerous Creatures, Part II

---

"Your disappearance doesn't seem to have fazed your companions."

"Not surprising. One of them hates me and the rest don't know me." Alnevar ground his teeth as he constantly struggled to escape the bonds about his wrists.

"Ah. Well then, shall we be a little more persistent? I'm sure we'll get their attention sooner or later." The silver-haired man smiled and approached Alnevar, who growled instinctively but couldn't do anything. "Now… I think I'll break your arm first. It's the least crucial part. After that, we'll see."

"What!"

"Oh, come on, Alnevar. I'm not exactly your friend, you know, so why is this so surprising? Now just hold still for a moment."

The man walked around behind Alnevar and took hold of his arm, and before Alnevar could try to wrench out of his grasp, (which would have been impossible anyway, bound as he was), he snapped Alnevar's right upper arm. Alnevar's scream lasted a good three seconds before he was able to cut it off by biting down sharply on his tongue.

"That is some of my best work yet! The skin didn't even break. And the screaming--wonderful, my friend, just wonderful. They won't be able to miss it."

Breathing hard, Alnevar could only respond with, "I thought… I wasn't… your friend?"

"Oh, no, no, no, no. I said I was not your friend."

Alnevar didn't respond. The man was clearly insane. He simply had to hope against hope that maybe that mortal enemy of his and those strangers might, just might, see him as being worth rescuing.

---

Anna rubbed her eyes. Sooner or later, she'd need some sleep. She couldn't keep this up. But, as before, she was aware, and she was coherent, so she let it go. But she still had a distinct sensation of cobwebs being draped over her mind, just a bit of a sleepy mist she was seeing everything through, as if she had only just awoken. But she had nothing, really, to do, except to wait, and Akarui had said it would be a few hours if they got here at all. She turned to look at him. "Would it be possible for me to get a bit of sleep before they arrive?"

(Certainly.) There was a brief pause. (There is a bedroom through that door,) and at that precise moment a door to Anna's left swung open soundlessly, (that should have all the amenities you desire or require.)

Anna nodded graciously and departed the room.

---

"I'm sick of waiting," Versiver muttered. "Akarui and Oebr and Menteur, damn him, are interfering. It's taking too long. What are they doing?"

"They are in Akarui's castle. They had to make something of a detour."

"My son is going to rule Askavi the minute he returns with the Black Widow, and he had to make a detour? Are you mad?"

Kennesra's eyes narrowed.

"I--didn't mean it that way," Versiver snapped.

"He didn't have a choice. Oebr has enlisted the aid of the Hell's Angels, Yachesa and--"

"I know their names. Couldn't your brother have helped, like last time?"

"Kennesval is--busy."

"Too busy to help his sister?"

"Yes. Leave it, Versiver."

Versiver narrowed his eyes. "Then why hasn't Skaviar had any success?"

"You only sent him out half a day ago. Even Skaviar, your precious 'perfect tool', won't get results that quickly."

"I simply have a bad feeling about this."

"What part of it?"

"Skaviar." Versiver pursed his lips and stood up, strode about the chamber. "Skaviar. I don't think he'll do as I told him."

"You know what Skaviar is like. He will finish his task through any means necessary. If you didn't detail exactly what you wanted him to do…"

"I told him to find Luseik, the Black Widow, Satiyen, and Keskes, and bring them back to Hayll alive."

"Alive?"

"Alive."

"If there is a problem, that will be where it lies. 'Alive' can mean a great deal of things."

"I specifically forbade him to kill them."

"But did you forbid him to incapacitate them?"

There was a thick silence.

"I did not."

"We can attempt to contact him, but by now, he will be inside Akarui's castle, and you know as well as I that the castle is spelled against psychic threads from outside."

"Then the only way we could contact him… But you said your brother was busy."

"I could… try to pull him away from his work."

Versiver narrowed his eyes. "I think there is something you and Kennesval are not telling me."

"There is nothing," Kennesra snapped. She got up and strode out of the room.

Versiver stared at the door and slowly shook his head. "And now I know there is something you are not telling me."

---

Althemen froze as the scream echoed through the corridor.

Satiyen came up beside him. "That was Alnevar," he breathed.

"I know his voice," Althemen muttered. "And whomever is holding him, they have a lot to learn about remaining in secret. I know exactly where that scream came from… And we're going to get him."

"Wait, I thought you hated him. Why save him? Not that I don't want to, but you…"

"As I told Luseik, I want Alnevar dead. But I will be the one to send him back to the Darkness. Not Luseik. Not Akarui. And not anyone else."

---

"You're very lucky."

Alnevar scoffed, grimacing as pain shot through his arm when he shifted to look at the man.

"How do you figure that?"

"Your friends decided your scream was worth investigating. Which means, of course, that unless they lose interest, I won't have to break anything else. This room is rather confined for my tastes, but I think I could adapt my fighting style quite nicely to work in here."

"Fighting?"

"Dear Alnevar, you didn't think I was luring them in here to have tea with them, did you? No, no! I have to bring them to Lord Versiver."

"Versiv--That's the guy we're going to see!"

"Somehow, from the way you headed straight here after you exited the Gate rather than making your way to Hayll, Lord Versiver doubts that."

"No, Versiver's got it wrong. A dragon named Oebr told us to come here. When he told us why, we could hardly refuse. And besides, by now we can't leave, because Oebr's brother has Anna."

The man's right eyebrow slowly crept toward the top of his head. "Oh? I was… not informed of this."

"Maybe Versiver's information wasn't exactly accurate."

"Perhaps such is the case."

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"What are you going to do now?"

"Oh, my plans have changed significantly. But bringing your friends here is still a priority."

Alnevar growled. "Can't you let me get up, at the very least?"

"Ah, remove the bonds. Yes, I suppose that is acceptable."

A lazy gesture, and the ropes that held Alnevar vanished. He massaged his wrists and stood up. He started to stretch his wings, but froze when he noticed the man staring at them with something very like regret.

When there was no response, he raised an eyebrow. "Hello?"

"What?" The man seemed to come out of a trance. "I'm sorry. Your wings, I just…"

"What's your name?" Alnevar said suddenly.

There was a slight pause. "Skaviar."

"Ah." That was all Alnevar said, but his thoughts kept speaking internally. Skaviar is an Eyrien name. But this man has no wings. Which explains the depressed look in his eyes. He snapped his wings shut and kept them behind him, out of Skaviar's line of sight.

"You do realize your arm is still broken, do you not?"

Alnevar narrowed his eyes. "I don't know if everyone does or if I'm just lucky, but I always seem to go numb to the pain of a broken bone after a while."

"And how many times have you broken bones?"

"Too many to count. Of my own, I'd say about four," Alnevar said without a trace of a smile.

Skaviar grinned. "I suppose I could say the same, although I've never broken one of my own bones."

Alnevar's eyes narrowed again a split second before he dashed forward, catching Skaviar by surprise. He slipped under the man's startled punch and grabbed Skaviar's outstretched arm, taking only a split second to get the leverage he needed to throw the man using only his good arm. Skaviar landed flat on his back and yelped as the breath was effectively knocked out of him, but immediately began attempting to rise. Alnevar didn't waste the moment. He slipped forward with Eyrien skill and by the time Skaviar was on his knees, Alnevar caught him in the stomach with his knee, and yanked him to his feet. He planted his good hand in Skaviar's back and slammed him face first into the wall. Skaviar collapsed. Alnevar backed away. When Skaviar didn't seem about to get up, Alnevar made for the door.

He was at the door and had laid his hand on it when something brushed the back of his head. He spun around. Skaviar still lay where Alnevar had left him. The half-Eyrien peered at the unconscious man and took a few steps toward him.

Alnevar was perhaps three yards away from Skaviar when Skaviar's head shot up, and his arm extended a ridiculous distance to catch Alnevar's ankle and yank, pulling the startled half-Eyrien to the floor. Before Alnevar could rise, Skaviar was above him, and had a knife at his throat.

"You dropped me! You actually dropped me! I have got to congratulate you on that one, half-breed. You're the first to drop me ever since I became this wonderful creature. Because you see, as you have no doubt figured out, I was once an Eyrien."

"Losing your wings doesn't change your species," Alnevar said quietly. "The loss of your wings doesn't change the fact that you're still an Eyrien."

Skaviar burst out laughing. "Oh, may the Darkness be merciful, you actually--"

"What?" Alnevar demanded. "What the hell are you laughing about?"

Skaviar immediately stopped laughing and pressed the knife to Alnevar's throat, his expression hard. Alnevar suddenly realized he couldn't move a single muscle in his body, though why, he couldn't tell. He was also frustrated and confused when he realized he was still breathing. Even that stopped when he saw a pair of huge black membranous wings unfold behind Skaviar. The man smiled slowly, revealing several rows of pointed fangs.

"You ought to learn not to interrupt people. As I was saying. I. Was. Once. Eyrien. No more, though. No, I told you that you were the first to drop me since I became…" He raised his free hand in front of Alnevar's eyes so that the half-Eyrien could watch as it molded itself from a hand, to a twisted claw, to an almost comical hook attached at the wrist, and finally, back to a hand, "this. And don't think it's only my hands that can change. I can change my appearance as much as I want, with only the most obscure limitations. And shifting my appearance, Alnevar, is not the only benefit of what I am." He moved the knife slightly so that Alnevar could see it was attached at the wrist. It shifted back to a hand which immediately pressed up against Alnevar's throat. "You are becoming a nuisance, Alnevar. I released you from your bonds because you made me believe I could trust you to stay where you were. You betrayed that trust, and so," he lifted Alnevar solely by his neck, and dragged the still-paralyzed half-Eyrien to a chair, where he dropped him lazily and let Alnevar slump over sideways.

"You are a very interesting character, Alnevar," Skaviar muttered as he knelt before Alnevar to stare into his eyes. Alnevar started to slip sideways, out of the chair, and Skaviar caught him by the shoulder. "Sorry. I forgot." He reached forward and tapped the side of Alnevar's neck, and Alnevar found himself free.

"What the hell did you do?" Alnevar demanded.

"I told you not to interrupt," Skaviar said, shrugging. Before Alnevar could think to get up, Skaviar made yet another lazy gesture and Alnevar found himself under some other strange magic. He was free to move in any way he pleased, but every time he attempted to rise, his legs would not respond. He also discovered that when he inevitably tried to strike Skaviar, his arm hung lifelessly.

"How are you doing this?"

"Alnevar," Skaviar said, once again settling into a kneeling position in front of the sitting half-Eyrien. "Your companions are likely to be here soon." He leaned forward so that he was face to face with Alnevar. His eyes, pale grey circles interrupted only in the center by gleaming spots of darkness, were two inches at most from Alnevar's own. His breath, a strange but not unpleasant scent of something like cloves, permeated Alnevar's nostrils. "When they get here… We're friends. Is that clear?"

Alnevar didn't respond.

"I'll take that as a yes," Skaviar said. He smiled as he leaned back and then stood up. He walked past Alnevar and patted his arm in a friendly manner.

Alnevar threw his head back and choked down the scream as bone scraped bone.

Skaviar just laughed. "I am so sorry. I completely forgot about your arm. Did you know that when you're like me, you can instantly heal any injury? Watch."

Before Alnevar's eyes, Skaviar gripped his own arm and twisted, smiling widely as the room was filled with a horrible crack and the bone protruded from his arm. Alnevar closed his eyes, but when he opened them, Skaviar was running his hand up and down the arm that, moments ago, looked as though it would be scarred forever, but now bore only a thin white line that vanished as Alnevar stared.

"It's so wonderful. And I discovered something else, you know. Once I came into being as I am, I discovered that really, no long, tedious procedure is necessary to create more creatures like me." Alnevar knew what he was getting at. He shook his head.

"No. I don't want you to."

Skaviar approached Alnevar, who still could not move to defend himself. He once again knelt by Alnevar and smiled coldly.

"All"--Skaviar gently slid one hand behind Alnevar's head--"I have"--He laid the other hand on Alnevar's shoulder, never once taking his hard grey eyes off of Alnevar's--"to do"--He kept his eyes level with the top of Alnevar's head and leaned forward so that his nose gently brushed against Alnevar's eyelashes--"is… this."