Part Two: Anger
Bloody Goo
"…I think I just found our blackmail!" The shadow hissed, tightening his grip on Malon's wrist, making her gasp in pain as his fingers made a vice-like grip on her bones, threatening to break them. The other two shadow men sneered at her, upper lips lifting and revealing their wolfish fangs. Frantically searching her memory, a strange realization came to her mind.
These shadows' weren't the same as the ones she had met previously. These shadows were different, with monster-like teeth and fierce expressions. Each one of them carried several different weapons, swords strapped to their hips, knives in the sides of their weathered boots, and one of them even had a plate of iron attached to the knuckles of his gloves.
Rogues.
"Malon!" Jack's voice came again, from the top of the staircase. She jerked her head up, and looked desperately for her friend. He was standing in the doorway, scanning the pulsing crowd of men with concerned eyes.
"Jack!" She screamed, gritting her teeth against the pain and wrenching her wrist free from the shadow's grip at last. He snarled as she bolted, lunging again, but missing her by mere inches. In the dark of the bar, with a dimly lit chandelier as her only source of light, and half-drunken men blocking her path, her heart rate spiked, nearly jumping into her throat as she searched frantically for a few inches of space, enough to push through and escape.
Her breath became ragged as the shadows' came at her again, lunging. She whipped around in a last ditch attempt to defend herself, but wasn't prepared for the bruising strike that came pummeling down on her collarbone, leaving her breathless.
She crumpled to her knees, waves of icy hot pain shooting through her muscles like electricity, and could not muster the strength to fight or protest as one of the shadows' grabbed her under one arm and proceeded to sling her over his shoulder. Her mind was in a pain-induced daze, eyes coming in and out of focus.
"Malon!" Jack's voice called again, this time more desperately. But her mind was starting to backfire, and before she had a chance to alter her fate, she slipped into the inky blackness of unconsciousness…
Where was she?
She cracked her eyes open, eyelashes still within her sight as she opened her eyes only wide enough to catch a glimpse of her surroundings. At first, all she could see was darkness, a thick blackness that seemed to swirl and ebb with dark energy that made her skin crawl. But as she kept her eyes open just a crack, they adjusted to darkness.
She was in a large chamber, with stone floors and masonry walls. A few droplets of water dripped through somewhere in the ceiling, slowly pooling on the floor near her bare feet. Her heart skipped a beat when she noticed the male figure crouching about ten feet away.
He was tied, ropes tightly bound around his chest, keeping his arms firmly against his sides. His hair was a dark golden color, messy and unkempt, cut to hang just past his pointed ears. On his left ear, the bottom rim jutted inward toward the eardrum, before smoothing out into a normal shape again. His ear had been notched by the wicked blade of a knife.
Link.
Her heart jumped into her throat. He was alive. He was really alive. She was about to rush at him when a cold hand touched her shoulder, icy fingers lacing around the collar of her dress. She jolted aside, but a tall woman kept her grip firm. Her hair was shoulder length, with an obscure violet hue, and her eyes, which were disproportionately large for her angular face, were a startling yellow hue, with green flecked edges and pupils that flickered red.
She licked her thick red lips when Malon gave her a frightened look.
"What's the matter, girl?" the woman hissed, stalking around her, nearly pressing herself against her shoulder. "Do you recognize him?"
She looked at him again, but couldn't focus. The only sound in her ears was the gentle dripping of the water droplets.
Drip, drip, drip.
She stared into his eyes, they were lifeless, almost like those of a blind dog. An unsettling fog settled over her mind, worming into every inch, making rational thought impossible. When she made a soft noise, his head didn't even move, nor did his yes, staring vacantly out ahead.
Drip, drip, drip.
"Do you recognize him?"
She looked yet again at the man sitting, crouched before her. Had she known him? His eyes were so devoid of any life, milky white and unseeing. After a moment, she shook her head. A shrieking laugh erupted from the woman's throat. The woman slunk around her a few times, slowly, coiling around her like a snake.
Drip, drip, drip.
"Do you know who you are?"
She looked down at her hands, turning her palms upright, looking at the darkened calluses on her fingertips and the cresses across the ball of her hand.
She shook her head again.
The woman moved behind her, putting a hand on each of her shoulders, breath ghosting over her ear. It had no temperature, no heat. It was merely a movement of air.
"Do you hear my voice?"
Drip, drip, drip.
She nodded again, a strange weight filling her hands. She looked down, finding that her hands were grasped tightly around the hilt of a large scimitar, curved blade glinting dully in the darkness. Strangely, the sudden appearance of the sword didn't startle her. She couldn't focus on anything. And for some reason, she couldn't suppress a half-witted smile. She felt like she was floating on air.
"Good," the woman cooed, tightening her grip on her shoulders. "Then show me how to use that scimitar."
She suddenly felt herself being pulled forward by an unknown, unseen force, dragging her toward the man that was crouched before her. And without a moment's hesitation, she drove the scimitar's blade right into the man's heart…
Malon woke with a muffled scream, muscles contracting involuntarily, violent tremors shaking through her body. Her blue eyes snapped open. It was dark, but not as dark as in the nightmare that had just moments beforehand had wracked her body and mind.
A few feet away, a fire crackled, and over it, an empty pan hung. It was then that she realized that she was lying flat on her side, one arm going numb as she laid awkwardly on it, cutting off blood flow and resulting in a tingling feeling, like tiny needles were jabbing her from the inside. Craning her neck, she found that they were in a dense forest, with lumbering willow trees, foliage draped lazily from their mighty bows, and amidst the black velvet sky, a full moon loomed hauntingly overhead.
"Hey, Chesed, look," a sickening male voice barked from beside the fire. She looked up, and found one of the shadows' from before staring down at her, an ugly smirk on his face. "The broad's awake."
She jolted, struggling to drag herself upright without the use of her hands, when a pair of black leather boots came only inches from her face. Her hands were tied behind her back, making nearly impossible.
Wordlessly, the one called Chesed lunged forward, and grabbed her by the arm, hefting her up so that he could look at every inch of her face and neck. Through the foul-smelling material that was bound across her mouth, she spat a string of insults at him, but only succeeded in making him laugh. And when his stare fell upon her chest, she growled warningly, the low rumble intensifying when his tongue darted out, wetting his thin, pale lips.
She couldn't fight the feeling that he was looking at her like a piece of meat.
"Are you sure we have to use her as bait?" A third voice asked, coming from beyond a thick wall of underbrush, three huge, midnight-black coated beasts trailing behind him. They appeared to be enormous wolf-dog hybrids, with yellowing eyes, and thick tails that were kept low. At the end of each toe, a wicked claw protruded, digging softly into the ground.
"I could see so many other uses for her." The shadow sneered, looking on her with narrow red eyes, subconsciously licking his lips like a hungry wolf. She watched as the third shadow lifted his sword so that it was eye level, and, pulling a dirty handkerchief from his back pocket, began wiping crimson blood from the blade, quickly staining the off-white fabric red.
She hoped from the bottom of her heart that it wasn't Jack or McKenna's blood.
"Watch your mouth, Taruk," Chesed snapped, letting go of her arm, resulting in her falling pathetically to the ground. "It's the easiest way to lure the Deity into the southern mists, you daft idiot."
Deity? What deity? What were these three shadows talking about?
"Yeah, sure, but would it really matter if we had a little fun beforehand?" The second shadow questioned, tilting his head to one side, and leering at her with a crooked grin. Chesed whipped around, glaring back at him, blood-red eyes narrowing down to dangerous slits. In his eyes, a fiery warning glinted within the crimson pools of his irises.
"Yes, Zauz. It would make a great deal of a difference! If you did that sort of thing, you'd imprint your scent on her you fool! Then the whole plan would be ruined!"
"Ok, so you collect whatever the hell you need from her to make the damn thing, and then we can have some fun with her."
Chesed suddenly lunged, grabbing the collar of the other shadow's shirt. His face came only inches from the other, upper lip lifting in a fierce snarl.
"Are you forgetting what Lorelei said? She said that we are to lure out the deity. The easiest way to lure him is by using her," he jerked his head toward her, as she watched from the ground. "She also stated that I'm in charge. So back off!"
He shoved the other shadow back, making him stagger aside. After giving him a final, aggressive glare, the shadow did back off, giving in and instead stalking off toward the giant wolf-dogs, stopping aside one of them and furiously beginning to brush its black coat with a hand, smoothing it and ridding it of clinging burs that were knotted together in its fur.
As she watched this all take place, her mind couldn't be moved from what one of them had said.
Lorelei. Where did she know that name? An annoying, gnawing thought that she really should remember the name It was shoved quickly, however, from her mind when Chesed grabbed her about the arm again, hefting her up to her feet and gripping her so tightly she feared that he would shatter the bones in her wrist, as it was pulled forcefully from the tight wrapping of rope that had kept it restrained, skin aflame with pain as the rough twine left dull red burns. She winced as it tightened further, her joints being bent backwards as he mercilessly twisted her wrist with a violent flick of his own, and her eyes involuntarily squeezed shut, a few wayward tears slipping from underneath her eyelids and down her cheeks.
She felt herself being dragged closer to the fire, the heat radiating across her skin, tingling on her exposed wrist. When she forced her eyes open again, she found herself only inches from the flame, staring down into the empty pot with nervous curiosity.
The shadow named Taruk was holding a jar in his left hand, filled with thick white goo. With the opposite hand, he uncorked the bottle, tossing the cork flippantly aside and scooping two thick, dirty, sausage-like fingers into the goop and pulling out a large glob of it, slapping it into the pan. The goop sizzled and spat as it hit the boiling hot metal, melting into a thin covering within seconds.
Something about the way the goop melted, the way it moved, was slightly mesmerizing. She watched it as it moved, swirled, senses slowly dulling, melting like the goop. She failed to notice the scratching sound of a knife being removed from a scabbard. Or as the second shadow slowly approached her.
Chesed moved her wrist again, resulting in another wave of pain as the stretched tendons were forced to move. He forced her wrist to hover directly over the pot of bubbling white gloop, the heat of the fire dancing over her skin. But she barely even noticed the change, the bubbling goo still holding her full attention, firelight reflecting against her blue eyes, her eyelids slowly relaxing, drooping. For some odd reason, she felt completely content just to watch the goo.
She had no idea why, nor any interest in finding out.
As she stared lazily into the pot, the second shadow, Taruk, pressed the sharp, pointed tip to the ball of her palm. She snapped suddenly back to a painful reality when the blade of the knife jutted suddenly into her skin. She gasped as the blade dug deeper, cutting through skin and muscle. Reflexively, her muscles tightened, and every tendon in her arm flexed, trying to yank away from the source of her pain.
Chesed held firm to her wrist, smirking with devious pleasure as healthy, ruby-red blood quickly dribbled from the now open wound on her palm, soaking her skin and dribbling into the pot, droplets splashing against the bubbling white goo, slowly mixing together, turning the boiling substance crimson. The third shadow, Zauz, slowly moved over to them, watching as her blood slowly spilled into the pot, looking at her with hungry eyes, shoulders slumped forward, muscles in his neck drawn tight.
Finally, after a brutal twist, Taruk ripped the blade from her flesh, making her give a cry as the wicked metal nipped through muscle and tendon alike. Chesed released her wrist, and giving another cry, she fell backwards, landing painfully on her tailbone and clutching at her wounded hand, still dripping blood.
"We've got what we needed. Now can have some actual fun for once?" Zauz asked, eyes never wavering from her, his intent gaze making her stomach curl into knots. Chesed looked at him with a disgusted glance, before returning his attention the boiling pot. He heaved a great sigh before responding.
"Yeah, sure. Fine. If it'll shut you the hell up, than have at it." He said dismissively, waving him away like an annoying fly. Finally finding the strength, she managed to slip the cloth covering her mouth, and screamed as the shadow leapt at her like a starving lion, grabbing her by the injured wrist and dragging her once again to her feet. Within seconds, his face was only inches from her, putrid breath ghosting over her neck as he looked at her, apparently indecisive.
"Get away from me you filthy pig!" She barked, teeth clamping together with a snap. He merely smirked, chortling softly deep inside his thick throat.
"I like a girl with a bit of spice, makes things more…interesting." He growled, leaning a few inches closer and making her chest tighten involuntarily with fear of what he was planning.
A low, vicious growl came from a few feet away, and with a frustrated growl, Zauz looked up his intended pray, toward where the three giant wolf-dogs' were lying. All three had risen, paws set far apart, heads held low, hackles lifting up from the backs of their necks. They were staring just past the underbrush, another wave of snarls erupting from the throats, a few flecks of frothy saliva dripping from their massive maws.
"Nyx be damned!" Zauz snapped, letting go of her arm and unsheathing a curved dagger. "I thought we already lost this guy once!"
Taruk and Chesed bolted away from the boiling pot of bloody goop, coming to stand on either side of him, drawing their own knives.
Malon's heart jumped into her throat as she found her own footing, looking toward them, then toward the open expanse of forest on the opposite side. She could run, but she could never outrun one of those giant beasts.
A strange, rhythmic thumping sound met her ears, starting out softly, and then quickly growing louder, until it dominated the otherwise quiet landscape. The wolf-dogs barked savagely, suddenly turning tail and bolting out of the way as two massive horses leapt through the undergrowth, forcing the three shadows' to jump out of the way or otherwise be trampled.
The first horse was an elegantly featured stallion, with a long black mane and tail and a short, glossy, dun colored coat. The other was copper colored, with a brilliant white mane that shimmered in the firelight.
Epona and Cerus.
Jack leapt easily from Cerus' back, twin knives already drawn, and before he could react, he dug them both deep into Taruk's upper thigh, forcing a thick, throaty scream from the shadow, as he ripped the blades from his flesh and the shadow fell to the ground in a crumpled, immobilized heap. Meanwhile, McKenna, who was seated easily atop Epona, circled quickly around Zauz, confusing him. In her right hand, she brandished a cast iron frying pan, and with a sharp swing of her arm, she brought the heavy cooking tool careening into the back of the man's skull.
He too, crumpled to the ground, leaving only Chesed and the wolf-dogs as any sort of opponent.
Cerus tossed his head, turning toward the remaining shadow, and trotting with high-stepping strides to come up to stand protectively next to Jack, looming over him as a form of defense as Chesed looked between him and McKenna, the emotion in his eyes quickly turning from fierce anger, to that of a cornered animal, a mixture of fear and unknowing.
She immediately bolted toward Epona, making to the great mare before the shadow could stop her and taking comfort in the scent of the horse's mane. The scent of steamy warmth wafting off of her skin, mixed with the soft, fragrant smell of hay that made her worries melt away like shadows melted to the sun.
Raking her fingers through the mare's silky mane, fingertips just barely brushing against the short coat, she looked daringly toward Chesed, who, despite the underlying look of defeat in his eyes, still bore a proud stature, head tilting cockily to one side, one corner of his thin lips lifting slightly in a disgusted smirk. The wolf-dogs' moved toward him and the two collapsed shadows, making a protective barrier, hackles straight up and down and they glared warningly at the three humans.
"Who are you?" Jack demanded icily, purplish-black shadow blood still dripping from his knives. Chesed jerked his head toward him, snarls intensifying from the three beasts' beside him as they turned their angular heads toward him as well. Cerus bobbed his head, black mane shaking slightly as he gave a defiant snort.
But he yet remained silent, glaring daggers between Jack, McKenna and Malon.
"Answer." McKenna prompted, brandishing her frying pan again, but shying slightly when one of the beasts' snapped at her, forcing Epona to jump back a few paces.
Chesed removed his gaze from any of them, staring straight out into the forest in front of him, ignoring them.
Looking one last time at Chesed, Malon moved further toward Epona's haunches, and with an easy swing, mounted behind McKenna, sighing in satisfaction at the feeling of the mare's muscles beneath her, the ability to feel every of the mare's breaths.
"Thanks." She muttered gratefully in an undertone, smiling at the thought of escaping. McKenna nodded, looking past Chesed and nodding to Jack, who, seeing this, stepped back, and easily mounted Cerus.
And before the beasts' or Chesed could make move, both horses turned, bolting back the way they had come, leaving the shadow to stand between his two collapsed partners. The one that Jack had stabbed groggily, painfully, dragged himself to his feet, favoring the injured leg as he made his way to try and mount one of the giant beasts.
"Let them go." Chesed commanded, throwing out an arm to stop him.
"But sir-!"
"They'll simply get themselves lost in the mist. We got what we needed from her." He said, looking toward the bubbling pot of bloody goop…