Post Mortem Chapter 10

My body was weak and I was starving.  I heard the rapid heartbeat and shuddering breathing of a panicking human next to me.  I smelled the fear as it rolled off her in waves.  Ignoring the screams of fear and the ineffectual blows from her fists and feet I dragged myself to her, unable to rise from my hands and knees.  I bit and drank and her vitae was absorbed by my body as the land absorbs rain after a drought.

When I could process thought beyond hunger I took stock of my situation.  I seemed to be in a small cell with a barred steel door, the dry corpse of a woman I thankfully didn’t recognize and nothing else.  I was still wearing Cor’s flak jacket and the much abused pair of scrub pants.  The room was completely dark and I didn’t hear the hum of the generator.  I wasn’t sure if I was even still in the same building.

I reached for my Gift and found it to still be fractious, but otherwise unaffected.  I stiffly walked toward the door, idly noting the scrapes on the floor and trails of blood along the edges next to the latch.  It had been a very long time since I had been disturbed by the thing I had become, but seeing the bloody scratches and broken pieces of fingernails stuck in the metal door frame made my skin crawl.

Although I had killed many people before, the vast majority had brought ruin down upon themselves.  This woman had sat for hours in the darkness next to something that she knew was a blood drinking demon from her nightmares.  She had torn her fingers apart trying to open the door and died in agony.  Had she screamed?  I shuddered.  I couldn’t remember.

“Are you calm now?”  A vaguely familiar voice came through the steel of the door.  I could also see other marks on the door.  I put my fist into a dent and found that my knuckles fit perfectly.

“Yes.”  I said, “But I won’t be for long.  Who are you and where am I?”

The latch outside creaked and the door opened.  The man standing on the other side was wearing nondescript civilian clothes, his faded jeans and threadbare t-shirt seeming strange and out of place in the dark hallway.  His eyes glowed a faint purple though, and that fact seemed to fit the scene perfectly.

“You let us go before.” He rasped, his voice sounding like a file running over iron, “Now you led us to our best meal in … our best meal ever.”

“I’m sorry; you will have to excuse me for being a little out of sorts.  I demand you bring me to the remaining survivors at once.”  I said, “I need proper clothing, a decent weapon and… you wouldn’t happen to have a cigarette would you?”

He gave me a surprised look, “What?”

“One of my … friends was in the room where you found me.  Strapped to an operating table?  Burns on her torso?  How the hell long have I been here?   What’s going on out there?”  I stepped out of the door my face intent, “Are we even still in the same building?”

“Uh, I don’t think that girl is still alive.  She was burned almost beyond recognition… she’s probably still there.”  He said, “We’re in the basement of the building in the holding cells where the rest of the humans were.”

I pushed past him at a run, “Where are the stairs?  How many floors down are we?  Damn it take me to her right NOW!”

“Wait, it’s daylight out there!”  He shouted.

I paused with my hand on the door.  “It can’t be daylight everywhere.”

“We… might have destroyed most of the building when we took it.”  He said, “I’m sorry, but… there’s just no way one of your kind would still be alive out there.”

“She isn’t one of my kind.” I said, “If she’s out there still and there’s even a chance of her being alive I have to get to her.”

“Stay here.” He said, “I will have some of my followers go and get her, even if it’s her corpse I’ll have her brought to you.”

I looked at my hand still on the doorknob, and then back at him.  “What’s your name?”

His eyes grew distant for a moment, “Donchivo.”

I cracked the door and flinched involuntarily at the sunlight that streamed in even though it wasn’t close to touching me.  “Well Donchivo, is there a place other than the cell you locked me in last night where I can wait for you?”

“There’s some kind of research lab down the hallway.”  Donchivo said, “I guess you could wait for us there.  The rest of the complex is unstable or else exposed to the sun.  As I said, we were not gentle to this place when we took it.  We took the strength from those we devoured and turned it on the others.”

I narrowed my eyes, “If you have been even a little untruthful, I will destroy you.  I’m a bit short on trust.”  Hell, I really should kill him anyway, but I didn’t need to tell him that.

“What reason would I have to lie?”  He asked, seeming truly offended.

“What reason would I have to trust you without question?” I shot back.

“The fact that you awoke in a room with blood and not in a sunbeam should be plenty.”  He said.

“Prove you aren’t just playing some game and I might let you live.” I said, my anger flaring.

He shrugged, “I don’t care.”

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”  I ran my fingers through my hair, “I’m not in the goddamn mood for this shit!  Give me a straight answer or I’ll fucking kill you now and to HELL with the consequences.”

“We’re going to die off.” He shrugged, “There are so few of the Hunters left, and our Fallen brothers and sisters … well all they can eat is humans, and humans aren’t enough.  Human flesh will never be enough, not for us.”

“Oh.”  What else could I say?  I remembered Hex and how he had fed upon the Hunters we had met, tearing their beating hearts from their chest with his bare hands.  Devouring them and stealing their powers for a short time in the process.  I don’t know if it was that I wanted to believe him or that he really convinced me.

“I’ll go get your friend personally.”  He said, “I’ll try and find some smokes for you too, and then we can discuss payment for my kindness.”

Donchivo walked out, and I was unable to follow into the sunlit world beyond.  All I could do was wait.

It only took perhaps a quarter hour for my host to return, he carried a limp form in his arms and had a pair of other Broken behind him, one with a heavy army rucksack and one with a variety of firearms.  He gingerly set the body in my lap and stepped back.

“Sorry.” He said, and offered me a fresh pack of cigarettes.  When I ignored him he set them on a nearby table and left me to my inspection of Svenka.

She had no pulse and her body was stiffening from what I could only assume was rigor mortis.  I forced myself to be calm and exerted my Gift slightly to ensure I was seeing what was really here.  The chance that I was being fooled once again by a Glamor was fairly remote, but I didn’t want to risk it.  I couldn’t afford to be fooled again and it would be nearly impossible for that trick to work if I focused my Power properly.  It was her without a shadow of a doubt.

I bit my wrist as I had the night before to whoever the imposter had been and allowed a trickle of my blood to run into her mouth.  There was no way to tell if she had truly died or if I might still be able to rouse her blood to my call but I had to try.  She didn’t stir, and I felt something inside of me change.  The part of me that still cared for others turned its face to the wall.

To my surprise and bemused relief, I realized that I did not feel as though I should end my existence because she was gone forever.  Instead, I felt liberated as I hadn’t felt in a very long time.  I was hungry for power and revenge.  Far from wanting to enter Final Death, I discovered that I instead wanted to bend the world to my will more than I ever had in the past.

“Donchivo, how many of you are there?” I asked, snatching the pack of cigarettes off the table.  I lit one and stalked away from the body on the floor, allowing any emotional attachment I might have felt at one point to stay there dead on the floor with it.  “I have some things I’d like to accomplish.  I believe I might have a use for you and your fallen people.  Who knows, maybe I’ll even find some more Hunters for you to eat.”

“I have thirty survivors and perhaps a thousand Fallen.”  He said, “We are always hungry, even right after we eat.  Even as we eat.”

“You control them.”  I said, blowing a cloud of smoke.  “How?”

“They listen when we speak.”  He said with a shrug.  “Why do you ask?”

“How far away can you call them from?”  I asked, opening the haversack and selecting a clean set of clothes from the variety of sizes inside.

“They all listen if we speak loud enough.” Said Donchivo, watching intently as I took off Cor’s torn jacket.

I ignored his scrutiny and pulled a shirt over my naked torso.  “Then shout.” I said grimly.  This struggle had gone on long enough.  It was time to end it.

“It will likely take them some time to get here, perhaps as much as a day.”  He closed his eyes, and then frowned.  “There… don’t seem to be as many as there were.”

I shrugged, “Yeah.”  I took off the shredded scrubs and tossed them on the floor, sorting through the clothes until I found a pair of cargo pants that looked like they’d fit and pulled them on.

“What’s your plan?”  He asked, still staring at me as I found a pair of socks and boots.”

“We will lure the ones who need to die here and then I will destroy them.”  I said, my expression hard.

“What of us?”  He looked at me with dead eyes.

“Those of you who survive can do as you please.” I said, turning a baleful eye on him.  “I will stop slaughtering you pathetic, weak, worthless pieces of shit and will let you leave.”

Donchivo stared at me for a moment, his eyes still flat and unemotional but his left eyebrow twitched with the effort of keeping himself still.  “Why?”

“Because I just don’t give a shit anymore.”  I said, “You can kill every Hunter in existence, your fallen kin can eat everything in sight or you can all burn.”

He stumbled backward, tripping over Svenka’s body and falling on his back.  I realized I had been advancing on him, my fingernails extending into six inch razor sharp talons while my teeth had extended far enough that my jaw had unhinged to accommodate them.  I stopped and composed myself with effort.

“Gather your brethren.  I want them here by midnight.”

The Callindra Chronicles Chapter 9

Callindra was dazzled by the array of weaponry laid out on the table where she had expected to find breakfast.  She had slept hard and awakened feeling tired but not nearly as exhausted as she was afraid she would be.  The sounds of metal on metal had brought her out of sleep and she had assumed Glarian was setting out bowls of porridge.

Instead of tin spoons and wooden bowls of oatmeal she saw a dozen or so polished steel swords.  They ranged from a straight and slender toothpick with a basket hilt to a wide double edged blade with sturdy crosstrees.

“Where did you get all these?”  She asked.

“I’ve kept them for a long time.” Glarian said, “These are all blades I tried before I found the style that fit me.  Today you will do the same.  How are your hands feeling?”

Callindra had forgotten about her injuries in spite of the wrapping on her palms.  She carefully took the linen bandages off and was shocked to see the skin underneath was unbroken.  Wordlessly, she showed him her palms.

“Good, I’m glad to see the Brightstar balm works as well even after all these years.  Jordah hasn’t forsaken me yet.”  He said with a smile, “Now then, why don’t you choose a blade and try it out.”

She looked at the swords, hefted one or two and finally picked one up that was just over a pace long, had a straight, narrow blade with slightly curved crosstrees and a hilt long enough for her to hold with both hands.  She tested the balance and nodded in satisfaction.

“I like this one.  It’s light enough for me to swing but feels like it has a good backbone.”  She flicked the blade and it rang, a bright cheerful sound.  “He has a good voice too.”

Glarian nodded, “Very well, bring it outside and let us begin our morning meditation.”

“Where is the sheath?”  Callindra asked, “I don’t see sheaths for any of these swords.”

“I don’t have sheaths for them.  You’ll just have to carry it for now.”  He said, “It will give you the chance to get used to the balance.”

She followed him into the courtyard and sat to perform the first Korumn with him.  As she breathed, the sword began to tremble on her lap, singing with the Power that coursed through her during the exercise.  When she finished and opened her eyes, Glarian was looking at her with furrowed brow.

“I’m not certain that sword will be able to survive the second Korumn; look how it is reacting already.”

The sword was trembling violently, the tip moving nearly a hand span.  Callindra stood up and whipped the blade as she had read a sword fighter might do to shake an opponent’s blood off the end.  When her arm and sword were fully extended the vibration ceased completely and the sword silenced itself.

“I think it will be just fine Master, he’s flexible enough to handle it for a little while.  If I’m careful I think it will be OK.”

Before he could stop her, she began the second Korumn.  The blade quivered and sang but just as she had hoped, it held together.  When Callindra finished, the whisper of wind that calmly dispersed from the tip of the sword seemed anticlimactic.  She didn’t feel like a cored apple this time though, in fact she felt absolutely energized even though her left leg throbbed from the effort.

“Wow, that was amazing!  Is that how it always is?”  Glarian was watching her carefully, a mixture of pride and apprehension on his face.

“Yes, these exercises are intended to make you ready for the day and that includes a feeling of exuberance.  Shall we begin the day’s training?”

He led her a short distance to a small meadow.  There was a large pile of wood sitting next to a flat stone.

“I want you to split this wood; however you must not hit the stone.  Hitting the stone would damage the blade.  Allow me to demonstrate, pay close attention.”  He lifted a section of tree trunk onto the stone, took a step back and drew his sword.

She watched him lift the six foot blade over his head and bring it down with a savage motion, stopping just above the wood, which shuddered and split in half with a sharp crack.

“What just happened?”  She asked, “Could you show me again?”

Without saying anything he put one of the halves back on the stone.  She intuitively schooled her mind and started to see the other world he had exposed her to.  The weave gathered in an orderly and precise fashion around his body, in through his nose and trickled down the blade of his sword from his fingertips.  When he stopped the sword over the wood, this time she saw the magic continue to move, slicing it in half.

“Wind!  It’s wind!  Of course, I should have guessed, ‘Master of the North Wind’ isn’t just a Title is it?”  Her voice was tinged with awe, “You really are the master of the winds aren’t you?”

Glarian nodded in satisfaction, “Split it all.  You’ll need to continue to perfect your control if you don’t want to keep shattering swords.”  He set a water skin and small basket on the ground and turned back towards the house leaving her to complete the task.

Her first try accomplished nothing.  On her second try she managed to slam the sword far enough into the wood that getting it out was a ten minute endeavor.  She sighed and blew her hair out of her face.  This was going to be harder than she thought.

Glarian watched his apprentice from a hilltop.  The task he had set her to was nearly impossible without proper training but he had to push her harder than normal.  Maybe she could find a way to cut some corners and teach herself.  He had to rely on her innate creativity to tame and shape the incredible power that swirled just beneath her skin.

With her first few swings she appeared to have forgotten what her task was and merely waved her sword at the wood or got it stuck in it.  After a moment she stopped and stood quietly in the Ready Stance.  Her shoulders relaxed and Glarian could see the Weave begin to circle around her.  When she raised her sword over her head even at this distance he could feel wind rush past his face towards her.

She was using too much, but if he interrupted her now it might be worse.  Callindra brought the sword down slowly, as though making sure of her target and tapped the firewood.  An explosion of wind in a perfectly straight line cut a razor sharp fissure through the center of the meadow, flowers, blades of grass, stones and anything else that got in its way was sliced neatly into two pieces.  The firewood, however, was still in one piece.

The string of curses she let loose must have come from her time in the keep, or else maybe from one of the new books he’d just brought home.  Either way they were colorful enough to make him raise an eyebrow.  Interesting vocabulary for a slip of a girl; he wondered how old she really was.  When he’d asked before she claimed to be sixteen but if she was over twelve when he pulled her out of the woods he’d be surprised.

“Strange choice for an apprentice Glarian.”  He whirled, Sakar half out of her sheath and found himself staring up at a massive hammer.  “Hand off the hilt or else I will smash your head like a grape.”

Glarian followed the hammer down to the hand that was holding it which was connected to an arm the size of a modest tree trunk.  “Thaeran, they let you out?  I thought Lord Edlras locked you up and threw away the key.”

“I have you to thank for that, The Order sprung me when you started stirring up trouble again.”  The huge man smiled, “They even let me test for Master again.  You’re speaking to Hammermaster Thaeran.”

“Congratulations, surely they didn’t spring you for nothing though?”  Thaeran had betrayed a mission, assassinated a crown prince he was supposed to have been protecting and been caught red handed.

“Of course there’s a catch, I have to keep an eye on you.  My hammer is the only weapon in existence that you can’t break.  We know all about your aversion to killing, so they figured I was the best bet for keeping you in line.”

There was also the fact that Thaeran was an Earth mage and his powers were physically stronger than any other member of The Order and that Earth opposed Wind diametrically but Glarian didn’t mention those.

“So what are their terms?”  He asked, knowing he wouldn’t like the answer.

“You are to stop training this girl immediately, surrender your Title to the next challenger and turn yourself in for breaking your oath.”  Thaeran said with a satisfied smile.  Glarian had been the leader of the internal investigation that had revealed his treachery and sent him to prison for his crimes.

“Do you know what will happen to her if she stops learning?”  Glarian asked gliding closer, “She will destroy herself and likely take anyone or anything that’s in the area with her.  You look at her and see a girl trying to learn to wield magic, but I see a girl fighting for survival.”

Thaeran laughed, “I don’t much care Glarian, it’s your fault she started learning so her death will be on your head.”  He shifted his grip on the hammer that he still had poised overhead and in that moment Glarian sprang forward, slamming his shoulder into the other man’s chest.

Thaeran stumbled back, but before he could recover, Glarian had swept Sakar from her sheath and called the Weave to his aid.  The blunted tip of the sword whistled through the air, first to the four points of the compass and then to tap Thaeran gently between the eyes.  “You will report back that you believe I am breaking Oath but that you cannot prove it yet.  You will feed them useless scraps of information to string them along and keep them from sending backup.  You will tell me the moment they send another to replace you.  You will not do violence unto myself or my apprentice.”

The spell was completed with the fourth command and Glarian held his blade at the ready, just in case the big man somehow managed to withstand his magic.  Thaeran shook his head as though trying to clear it, then shouldered his hammer and trudged off in a seemingly random direction.

“If they’d sent someone a little more adept I would have been on the losing end of that encounter.  It’s a good thing I have made a little bit of a name for myself shattering weapons; they’re hesitant to send their most capable and instead release criminals to do their dirty work.”  He muttered to himself.

Looking back at the meadow where he had left Callindra, Glarian frowned.  “I’ve been pushing her but I need to push harder, we’re running out of time.  I didn’t expect them to react so quickly but I guess breaking all those weapons made them angry.”

A black butterfly floated down and landed on the tip of Sakar with a distinct clink of metal touching metal.  Glarian felt a tremor of Power rush through his blade and Belach’s voice came from the steel insect.

“I’m bringing her sword in two weeks.  Had to burn some time in the forge but after speaking with her yesterday I decided it needed to be done sooner rather than later.  I’d bring it today but the damn thing’s taking an ungodly long time to cool and that’s the only part I can’t rush.  Have a care, they let Thaeran out to come get your title.  He brought that monster Darangar in to make sure it was ready to smash whatever stood in his way and of course I had no choice but to inspect him.”

The butterfly flexed metal wings and soared on unseen thermals, spiraling high into the air.  Glarian sat on a large, flat stone and leaned Sakar against his shoulder.  So he had Named his hammer.  Darangar, was that ‘Soul Crusher’ in Dwarven?  He thought so.

Glarian looked back at his disciple, she had a stack of kindling piled in a neat row on the left side of the stump.  He blinked and looked again.  Callindra was more than halfway done with the wood he’d left her and working quickly through what remained.  She had actually managed to gain control over the Weave, even though she was using an old sword he’d only kept for sentimental reasons.  He grinned, this was going to be a lot of fun.  The Order was in for a big surprise.

“We just might make it.  It’s a slim chance but I’m betting on your skills Belach.  By the icy gales of Njordi, if there’s any chance of this working the sword you send her must be absolutely perfect.”

The Callindra Chronicles Chapter 8

Callindra sighed and buckled her sword on.  The walk back to the trees was short and she was soon cutting through another log.  To her surprise it was much easier to make the precise final cut without scoring the tree trunk underneath.  Even so, the sun was falling behind the hills before she had finished.

Her triumph over the task gave her a burst of energy and she ran back to the house to tell Glarian.  When she approached, she found him hanging something in the lean-to.

“Master!” She called and he whirled, his sword seeming to appear in his hand.  Without thinking she had drawn her sword and moved to parry a blow but he stopped before their blades could touch.  She could see he was hanging a pair of whip handles next to an array of sword hilts none of which had more than six inches of blade left on them.

“Sorry Callindra, it has been an interesting day.”  His voice sounded tired.  He sheathed his sword, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the broken weapons.

“It’s you!  You’re the great mage he was looking for?”  She still held her sword in her clenched fist.  “He came to take your Title but you killed him instead.”

“You’re partially right Apprentice.  I am the Titled mage he sought and he came to take that Title from me.  As you can see though, I do not take the lives those who come to challenge me.  I instead kill their weapons and send them on their way.”

“Why did you keep this from me?”  Callindra backed away and a gust of wind cut between them, actually scoring the ground.  Her eyes widened in fear and dust began to whirl about her.  The wind tugged at her hair, moved the scabbard over her shoulder and ruffled her shirt.  “What are you doing this for?”

“Ssshhhh, quiet now.”  Glarian’s voice was low and the winds calmed themselves.  She could see him through the dust now; he was sitting cross legged on the ground.  “Callindra, control yourself.  What you’re doing is dangerous, the winds are my domain but as with everything else in my life you seem to turn it on its head.”

She still held her sword, but Callindra managed to get her breathing under control using the exercise he had taught her.  As with Daleus, she had to believe that if he was going to harm her he would have done it long before.  She sat a few feet away from him and laid her sword across her knees, mirroring him.

“What is your Title then Master?”  She asked, hoping it would help her to better understand.

“I am The Master of the North Wind.”  He replied, and Callindra gasped.  She had read about him.  Nobody knew his real name; he was a master of Masters, had fought in countless battles and defeated a multitude of opponents.  Then one day he had simply vanished, taking his Title with him and leaving the balance of the Compass of the Winds off kilter.

“What are you doing out here?  Why did you leave The Order?  What is someone like you doing teaching someone like me?”  She was trying to make sense of it all but the idea that he might not be telling the truth never crossed her mind.

“I have been exiled.  I had a … disagreement … with the other Masters about how and when our power should be used so they attempted to strip me of my Title.  When that failed, they did the only other thing they could.”

“When that failed?  What does that mean?”

Glarian sighed sadly, pressing his palms flat onto the hilt and flat of his sword.  “I had to kill a few of them.  They left me no choice; when they attacked one after another I couldn’t defend myself without taking lives.  Killing their weapons would have tired me to the point of defeat.  When they realized they couldn’t defeat me in single combat, they surrounded me and forced me to take oaths never to practice or teach magic again.

“From the moment we met, some part of me knew you would bring me to break those oaths Callindra.  They were taken against my will and therefore I do not regret breaking them, although doing so will likely cost me my life.  You are my most worthy student and the one who shall inherit my style and my Title.”  He let that sink in and she gradually realized what he was trying to say.

“What do you mean?  I’m no mage, I don’t like magic Master, I just want to learn The Sword.”  She started to feel the fear encroaching on her calm again, a breeze tousled her hair and she nearly jumped to her feet.

“You are an awakening mage Callindra, nothing can stop that.  Your unfortunate contact with Daleus seems to have accelerated your body’s ability to channel the Weave.  Even as we speak the winds have been reflecting your mood.  If I hadn’t gotten you to calm down you very well might have summoned a tornado right here in the courtyard.”

“WHAT?”  She was trying hard not to panic but this was too much.  Winds tore through the clearing and with each gust they grew more violent.  Glarian didn’t bat an eye; he sat like a boulder in the middle of a stream.  The winds seemed to slow as they neared him.

“Remember your training Callindra.  The first Korumn is of the breath.”  He began the breathing exercise and she joined by reflex.  To her amazement, she could see tiny shining threads flowing into his nose as he breathed in and then arc gracefully out of his mouth when he exhaled.

He opened his eyes with a smile “So you can see it?  Being able to see the Weave is the beginning.  I will now teach you the second Korumn.  It is of release.”

Glarian led Callindra through the Stances slowly, one at a time.  He was much more strict than normal, correcting even what appeared to be inconsequential mistakes; the position of her foot a few inches to the left or the angle of her arm down slightly.

The last rays of sun had gone and the practice yard was now illuminated by the full moon.  Callindra felt an uncomfortable tightness in her entire body, as though she was swelling from within.  She looked at a hand that shook from exhaustion.

“I know you’re tired Apprentice, but now you must perform the entire second Korumn from start to finish without making a single mistake.  You have built up too much power within yourself and since it’s rooted in fear it is the most dangerous of all.  This Korumn will allow you to safely let go of the Weave you have gathered without injuring yourself or others.”

Callindra nodded slowly, noting the myriad of glowing threads that seemed to be swirling around and through her for the first time.  All those times she had wondered at the wind gusting around her… had been this?  An involuntary shiver coursed down her spine as she moved her body to assume the Ready Stance.  To her surprise, Glarian moved to stand next to her.

“Let us do this as one Callindra.”  Together they moved through the intricate motions of the Korumn of Release.  She could feel the pressure building even further as they linked each of the Stances together; it burned inside her like a forest fire.  Her steps began to falter, her weak leg shook with the effort of holding her upright and sweat poured down her body.

“You must complete the Korumn Callindra, all the way to the end.”  The tension in Glarian’s voice spurred her on and she pushed through the pain and fatigue; if she couldn’t do this she might die.  She might take him with her.  The final Stance was the most difficult, but also her favorite.  A leaping spinning motion that ended with a powerful downward strike, the blade stopping inches from the ground.  Her left leg crumpled underneath her as she completed the landing of the last Stance, driving Callindra to one knee.

Instead of the gentle feeling of relaxation she had been experiencing thus far when performing it, a violent torrent of wind exploded from the tip of her sword, striking an ancient elm tree that shaded the house.  The elm exploded into splinters, no piece of the tree remained that was larger than her palm.  What remained of the trunk looked hacked off at a hundred angles as though slashed with a myriad of impossibly hard and unbelievably sharp blades.  The blade of her sword ended in a jagged break a mere hand span from the hilt.

“Absent Gods.”  She collapsed, completely drained.  “What was that?”

Glarian helped her stand, a look of pride warring with concern on his face.  “Confirmation that I was right to begin your training now, with that much power built up inside of yourself you could have leveled the house in your sleep.”

He didn’t say that she likely would have killed them both, or mention what could have happened if she had released that torrent in a direction other than the tree.

“Now you realize the importance of using the correct positioning when performing a Korumn.”  He said as he helped her back to the house.

“My sword is gone.  How will I train now?”  She felt tears begin to sting the corners of her eyes.  That blade had been her companion for months.

“I was hoping that one would last a little longer but we’ll try again tomorrow.”  Glarian’s voice had a strangely gentle timbre.  “Fear not my apprentice; nothing will keep me from completing your training.” She scrubbed an exhausted hand across her eyes and followed him.  Was that resignation or something else in his voice?

Once in the house, she attempted to go straight to bed, but Glarian forestalled her.  He made her sit before the fire and while he filled the tub from the cistern he ordered her to stay awake.

“I don’t want to bandage your hands while you sleep; it’s much easier to get them tight when you’re awake.”  He explained, “You can set that hilt down on the table too.  We can start a wall of failed steel for you tomorrow.”

Callindra sat numbly and looked at her hands.  To her surprise, the right was still clenching her sword hilt.  The left was raw and bleeding, each of the lines on her palm that a fortune teller might use to tell her future was bleeding as though cut with a razor.  She set the sword hilt on her lap and saw her right hand was the same.

“That is what happens when you lose control of your power Apprentice.”  Glarian was carrying an earthenware pot of some lightly fragrant substance and some clean linen bandages.  “This salve is made from the pollen of Brightstar flowers; it’s a healing balm that will help your hands.”

He took her hands and carefully dabbed the salve into her abused palms.  It did sting as she feared, but it faded quickly from the feeling of being jabbed by needles to something akin to the sun shining on her skin.

Glarian had finished bandaging her hands and was holding a cup of warm tea out to her.  “Drink this while you are in your bath.  Don’t worry about scrubbing, this is to soak the soreness out of your muscles.  It’s important not to get your hands wet while they are healing.”

He gave her privacy to strip and clamber awkwardly into the bath, he had put some herbs in the water too.  Presently she smelled burning tac and knew he was on the front stoop smoking.  She sat in the tub with the water all the way to her neck, holding her hands on the sides to keep the bandages dry and let the tension soak out of her muscles.  Her mind was completely blank but something tickled on the outside of her awareness.

“Belach.  How comes the work?”  Glarian’s voice echoed hollowly.

“It is heating for the one thousand sixteenth and final fold.”  A rough voice rumbled like thunder.  “I am using metal from a fallen star and it is reluctant to melt even under the fires of Majiera.  Every time it takes longer and if the temper is to be properly completed perhaps another month.”

“I will make do for a month.  You have my thanks.”

“You can’t come pick it up yourself you stubborn bastard.”

Callindra seemed to fly away from her body, feeling winds rushing past her face.  She spun faster and higher, crossing unknown lands with vast forests, a tree reaching past the heavens themselves, over rivers so wide they seemed to be lakes, across an unending sheet of ice to a mountain with cinders and ash issuing from its summit.

She plunged down the cone and there stood an impossibly large creature.  It stood taller than a keep in the center of a pool of molten rock, with horns twice as long as a man protruding from its head and wings that were larger than the sails of a ship, even when folded against its back.  The creature’s skin was black but cracked all over and in the seam of these cracks the light of magma gleamed forth.  Enormous black chains, each bigger around than a wagon ran from a thick spiked collar around its neck to the four points of the compass, their ends looping around pillars of sheer ice.

Standing at a forge that was on a shelf of rock level with the creature’s head was a man with arms like tree trunks.  The ground beneath his feet was covered with half-finished and broken weapons, each one appeared to her eyes to be a flawless masterpiece and yet he trod on them as though they were trash.  Above his head, a myriad of delicate shapes fluttered and flitted in the heat from the forge.  Callindra realized these were butterflies made from razor thin sheets of metal, each one blackened by the smoke of the fire that burned beneath them, suspended solely by the heat coming from below.

The smith spoke, “You can’t come pick it up because The fucking Order watches this place.  You know they have been waiting for the day that you would break your oath.  I will bring it to you my friend.”  He paused and looked right at her, “You don’t need to check up on my work you crazy bitch, you can see he is making himself ready for your hand.”  He gestured toward the forge and she saw a slender arc of metal heating in the fire.  It called to her, seeming to pulse as though it had a heartbeat.

“This is a dangerous thing you’re doing.  I see you’ve come further along than he anticipated though, I’d better hurry.  Take her the hell home.”

One of the metal butterflies from the air above the forge left the company of its fellows and fluttered around her head.  One after another followed until she was surrounded by a cloud of them that obscured her vision.  She felt a strange falling sensation in her gut and opened her eyes, sitting in the bath before the fire.  Perched on the edge of the copper tub was a perfect black steel butterfly.

The door opened and the butterfly started into the air, circling once around her head before flitting out the window.  Glarian entered and gave her a stern look.

“You’re still in the bath?  Time to get to bed apprentice, tomorrow is going to be a very busy day.”  He held a towel for her and she climbed out, too tired to be shy.  Her leg buckled under her again and Glarian picked her up as though she weighed nothing and deposited her gently into her bed.

“Master?”  He paused at the door, “Thank you.”  She was asleep before she could hear his response.

Post Mortem Chapter 9

The doors in the hallway behind me burst open and armed men poured out, firing as they tried to box me in.  I ran toward them, my speed to allowing me to run from the floor and along the wall.  They tried to follow me with the barrels of their guns, but I was moving fast enough that I was among them before they could adjust their aim.  By that point it was too late.

I tore them apart with brutal efficiency and leaped sideways into an open door, dragging the last of them with me with my teeth in his throat.  I only just managed to get out of the hallway before the Hunter who blazed like the rising sun stepped into it.  My only option was to use my Gift.

“I have your filthy little Bloodslave.”  A dread voice echoed down the hallway, “I’ll let you talk to her again.”

“Ren, you have to run.  Get out of he-“ Svenka’s voice echoed in my head for just a moment.  It was all I could do not to run to her.

“This was a gift from a dear friend of yours.  Call him Mec, The Machinist, or James… I called him Mentor.  He gave us many tools and although my ability to use a Glamor is much less than his was, I can at least use it to interfere with your blood magic.”

I wasn’t about to run and we all knew it but I couldn’t just lash out blindly.  Thankfully I had been killing plenty of humans and as a result wasn’t in the least bit hungry.

“Cor.” I tried to reach him through the Mindlink but it was dead again.  Whatever this Hunter was doing to disrupt my power was disappointingly effective.  A crackle of static nearby grabbed my attention.  I plucked the radio from the body of the man I’d dragged into the room with me.

“Cor, if you can hear me come back.” I said, hoping the Hunter was too cocky to have his radio on, “I need you to get out of here and bring in the reinforcements.  There’s a Hunter out there who somehow makes sunlight and can intercept the Mindlink. So watch your ass.”

“Copy.” He said, and the radio broke out with a flurry of commands from others listening in.  I ignored them, I only had one thing to focus on.  I reached out to Svenka over the visual portion of our Mindlink, completely disregarding the audio aspect.  It was much shorter range and a lot more difficult but under the circumstances I knew she would be trying anything in her power to reach me.

A clouded version of the hallway overlay my vision without warning.  I closed my eyes and saw a dozen human guards approaching the door to the room I was in.  Directly in front of what I could see was a person shaped outline of pure light and as I looked down I could see her burned flesh and an arm circling around her neck.  She looked to the left and I could see down the stairs.

She was being held behind by someone other than my horrid sunlight producing Hunter, and I knew exactly where she was.  Soldiers ran into the room, sending hot lead my way as they came but it didn’t matter.  My wings of light unfurled and I unleashed Destruction on any who dared oppose me.

First were the half dozen armor clad Hunters who ran into the room on supernaturally fast legs.  I let my Gift claim them from the waist up, the aftereffects singing the ceiling above my head.  Then I closed my eyes and allowed Svenka’s vision to guide me.  The hallway outside groaned in protest as I annihilated the Hunter with sunlight skin, not allowing even the floor he stood on or the roof over his head to survive.

I rolled out of the room, pistol aiming towards where I knew my lover’s captor held her.  He was still attempting to recover from the shock of the Hunter who had been standing in front of him vanishing in a flash of light.  I put one round through each of his eyes.

Behind them a dozen men exited the stairway, weapons held at the ready.  With a caress of Destruction I made them go away, the Power flaring outside of my control for just a moment and destroying the stairwell and half the wall behind it. Pain gripped me and I knew I was nearly exhausted but the thrill of victory ran through my veins.  They had tried to kill me and the ones I loved and I had thwarted them.

“Baby.” Svenka’s voice was beautiful. “You came for me.”

“Of course.”  I whispered, “I couldn’t stay away.”

“Are you hurt?” She asked, looking at me with concern on her face.

“No.” I smiled so hard my face hurt. “But you are.”  I took her in my arms, horrified at the burns that covered her.

“I have never felt better my love.” She said.

“Take some strength from me.” I bit my wrist and allowed some of my vitae to drip into her eager, open mouth.  “You will need it; we’re far from out of this.”  The pain nearly undid me.  The euphoria nearly overpowered me.

“Oh Renyovalia, I’ve missed you so.” She said, gently licking at the wound on my wrist.  I watched in satisfaction as the burns on her body knitted together, the worst of the damage healing.  It wasn’t perfect, but there were some distinct advantages to being an active Bloodslave.  She needed to drink my vitae or she would go into terrible withdrawals after

“I love you Svenka, but right now I need the Mork Varg.”

She smiled a truly horrifying smile.  “I was hoping you weren’t going to demand we leave because I didn’t want to start off by starting trouble.”

“What do you mean?”  I asked, too relieved to be holding her in my arms to think about much else.

“I’m not leaving without them.”  Her eyes narrowed although the smile remained and grew more fierce, “All of them.”

“How many are we talking about here?”  I asked, frowning.  I had no way of taking care of myself let alone a bunch of other people.

“Maybe two hundred.”  She said, “I haven’t seen everyone all at once, but they took all the girls-”

“What?”  That was enough to snap me out of my reverie, “Are you serious?  What the FUCK am I gonna do with a few hundred girls?  In this fucking wasteland?  You’ve gotta be kidding me.  I love you forever, but you’re crazy.  Where would I put them?  How would I feed them?”

“I have a plan baby.”  She said, “You can trust me right?  Let’s deal with these pieces of human waste first.”

At least on that we could agree, “I came here thinking I’d have to kill them all to get to you.  Turns out I found you and now we get to do it together.”  I kissed her and was lost for just a moment in the embrace.  I heard a door scrape quietly open and fired Cor’s .45 without looking or breaking the kiss.

“Fucking hell.”  Svenka said, looking up from my lips to survey my handiwork.  A guard was slumping out of the doorway with a hole in his head, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Ok, so lead me to these assholes.”  I shot a second guard who was attempting to sneak back up the stairwell, catching him in the leg and then in the head as he fell, “I don’t have your knives, and the ones I brought with me are in a store room along with the rest of my clothes… I’m sorry.”

“Why did you get naked in a storage closet?”  She asked, smiling at the thought and raising an eyebrow.

“Long story.” I said, watching her approach the hole I’d made in the floor and inspect it with curiosity.

“I’ll make do somehow.”  She said, “You’ve already done away with most of them anyway.  I think we can get to the proper floor through here.”

I came up to her side and looked down.  Apparently I had let a touch more Power loose when I took the Hunter down than I had thought; it went down several floors.  From below, I could see what appeared to be tendrils of smoke lazily making their way up.  The whole building was suspiciously quiet.

“So, which floor do we need?”  I asked, keeping my voice low.  I hadn’t attempted to use the Mindlink because apparently our enemies could intercept our thoughts.

“We need to go up two floors.” She said, pointing.  I grinned and picked her up.  “Hey!” She protested with a smile on her face.

I crouched slightly at the edge of the hole and leaped upward at an angle, barely breaking momentum before pushing myself back the other direction to land lightly at the edge two floors higher than we had started.  Setting Svenka down gently I spun, taking stock of the hallway we were in.  It was still eerily quiet.

“So where to from here?” I asked, frowning.

“The door is right there.” She indicated an innocent looking door.  Like all the others in the building it was made of steel and had a deadbolt.  “Are you all right?”

“Never better.”  I said, “Why?”

“Because this is going to be … difficult.”  She folded her arms and I was startled to see tears glistening in her eyes, “There are a half dozen armed guards in there and I know they’ll start killing hostages as soon as we get in the door.”

“So we have to move quickly.  That shouldn’t be a problem.”  I said. “We might lose a few hostages but I’m sure I can keep most of them alive.  Why is it so quiet though?  That’s what is bothering me the most.”  I focused on my hearing, straining to hear anything.

Svenka’s breathing was controlled but her heartbeat was elevated.  There was nothing coming from behind the door.  I could hear a mouse crawling through the duct work overhead, and the far off rumble of the generator but nothing else.  There weren’t even footsteps of guards on lower floors.  I relaxed my focus on hearing, very loud noises could stun me if I wasn’t careful.

“They have some kind of Archo-Scientific machine in there, you can’t hear anyone who is more than a few feet away from you.” She said,  “It blocks the Mindlink too…”

“What the hell is really going on here?” I asked, “The group of Hunters I overheard earlier were saying this was a trap for me… like they expected me to come here.  They sounded like they expected to defeat me easily too.”

The radio I had absently clipped to my belt crackled, “Renyovalia, do you copy?”  It was Cor.

“I read you Cor, what’s up?”  I said, moving slightly away from the door and trying to look everywhere at once.

“You need to get out fast.  The Broken are converging on your location.  Thousands of them.  You might not even be able to blast your way out.”  He said, “That’s not the worst of it either.  They are being led there… the ones who seemed smarter and less uh, well, dead are actually leading them.”

“Shit!”  I looked at Svenka, “You heard, there’s no possible way we’d be able to escape from here with a couple hundred women.”

Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes, but she folded her arms resolutely.  I knew that look; I’d seen it quite a few times.  I was in trouble.

“Svenka, babe, it just isn’t possible.”

“They’re experimenting on them.”  She said, “Trying different formulae on them to see what happens.  I guess a lot of Mec’s work was poorly documented and these few surviving Hunters are trying to figure out how to make more of their kind.”

I set my jaw, “What good is it to save them from that only to turn them over to be eaten?  The best I can offer right now is a quick death.”

“Don’t you dare.”  She said, eyes flashing, “There are girls in there… girls and a few pregnant women, how can you even think that?”

“Fine, what’s your plan then?”  I demanded, not breaking eye contact.

“First we kill the Hunters, then we hole up in here until the Broken go away.” She gestured at the door, “This place is pretty well fortified, I think we can hold out for awhile.”

I hesitated, on the one hand I really didn’t think I’d be able to persuade her to leave and the likelihood of us getting out was pretty slim if Cor was to be believed.  On the other hand, I worried about the maybe dozen Hunters inside this room.  Even one or two of them would be trouble if I couldn’t use my Gift.

“OK, here’s my compromise.” I said in a tone that let her know I was serious, “We try and kill the Hunters, but if I get in there and it looks too bad we bail.  I’m willing to try, but I’m not going to get us killed for a bunch of people we don’t know.”

“I know them.” She said softly, “And if you leave, I’m staying.”

Well fuck.  I took stock of my weapons.  A single .45 with a half spent magazine and my hands.  I could run back to the corpses of the dead to scavenge more, but by the time I got back I would have wasted more time than we had to spare.

“I’m not leaving you, so I guess that puts me in a tough spot.”  I handed her the pistol and let my fingernails harden into claws again.  It was a testament to how worried she was that she took the gun.  She hated guns.

“I’m going in hard and fast.” I said, feeling the floor with my toes.  “Once I get inside, I need you to keep as many of them off my back as possible while I attempt to destroy the machine.”

“Who cares about the machine?”  She asked, “I just want to kill those fuckers.”

“If they’re using it to disrupt some of my Gift, I don’t want it to be around anymore.”  I said, “Besides, if it can mess with one aspect, who’s to say it won’t influence other things too.”

I didn’t wait for her to say she was ready, I just ran at the door and slammed my foot into the deadbolt with all the force my body could muster.  Although it was heavily reinforced, it didn’t stand a chance.  My foot shattered the lock and the door slammed against the wall, leaning drunkenly on warped hinges.  I ran inside, looking for the nearest target and skidded to a halt.  The room was empty except for a man in a wheelchair, an operating table with a limp form strapped to it and a huge machine emitting a rhythmic humming sound.

A reinforced steel shutter slammed shut behind me and the figure on the table moaned and twitched slightly.  I froze in disbelief.  It was Svenka.

“It works so flawlessly!”  The man in the wheelchair said, laughing with maniacal glee, “You never suspected, not even for a second that my doppelganger wasn’t your precious Bloodslave!”

I blinked, feeling as though I’d been sucker punched.  How had I not even known?  I couldn’t focus, all I could think of was how I’d seen Mec use his Glamor to make people believe horrible things.  I’d seen men tearing at their own skin with their fingernails, certain that there were insects crawling in their flesh.

That machine had to be destroyed.  I attempted to gather my Gift, but when I tried I found the well of my Power had gone dry.  “What is…”  I stumbled and fell against the wall.

“Drink deep my precious.”  The man purred, touching the machine lovingly, “Take what is hers and give it to me.”

Post Mortem Chapter 8

With judicious use of the radio and my natural ability to be a sneaky little bastard, I managed to scout much of the building without being seen. Now, however, I was cornered in a small room that apparently had a goddamn board meeting going on outside.
“Jake hasn’t reported in, does anyone have a 20 on him?”

“No sir, he was last assigned to check the generator wasn’t he?”

“Does anyone know what Smith is up to? I thought he was holding off a potential threat across the avenue.”

“I haven’t been able to reach him by radio sir; however he often turns it off when he’s facing off against someone who requires his full attention.”

“Cut the chatter.” This voice held authority, something I was accustomed to hearing in my own voice. Hearing someone else use it to the same amount of advantage… put my hackles up for lack of a better term. Here was someone else who was a pack leader, and the animal part of me cried out to put him in his place.

“Jake hasn’t reported in. I believe he is dead, and I imagine Smith has shared his fate.” The voice snapped, cutting across the other voices and even seeming to make the ventilation system stop running. “She is here you idiots! Our target is here and we don’t have the slightest goddamn clue as to where to start looking. You know what she can do if we don’t stop her.”

“Boss, you can’t mean that. If she was really here wouldn’t she have given herself away in at least some small way? We have the entire complex under surveillance.”

“Yeah, if she was here, we’d know.”

“You fucking MORONS just don’t get it do you?” The ‘boss’ was losing his cool now, “This isn’t some fucking amateur this is the goddamn Angel of Destruction we’re talking about. She doesn’t take prisoners you dipshits, she strikes without warning and leaves no trace of her targets. We brought these bitches here to make sure we could catch her, she has a thing for not hurting innocent women, but if we don’t lock it down right NOW the mission fails.”

I froze, knowing that it was pure luck that I was waiting within earshot. I forced myself to relax, allowing my breathing and heartbeat to completely stop. This was a trick Hex had inspired me to try. After all, if someone was looking for anything other than a corpse this would throw them completely off my trail.

“Boss, are you sure we should be allowin this? I mean, I hate beaners as much as the next guy but hell… I seen what them things are doin out there. It aint’ right.”

“None of that matters. If we get the Wolf, her keeper will come and we can exact our revenge.” His voice became feverish,

“She must pay, surely the Master is not gone for good. If we enact his vengeance he will come to save us!”

“Yeah, you know the Master wanted to cleanse the humans. He wanted to eliminate the ones who couldn’t evolve to a higher form. That’s why he used himself as the first test subject, to prove he was worthy.”

I wasn’t sure whether to come out guns blazing, try and sneak away or keep listening. Curiosity won out in the end and I snuck closer to the door in order to try and get a look at the group. Besides, I still didn’t know where Svenka was. With any luck these assholes would let slip where their captives were being held. There was a clink and a hiss.

“I smell something.” The Boss’s voice had a euphoric quality to it. He must have shot himself up with that glowing sludge. “She’s here.”

“Renyovalia, where the hell are you?” Cor’s voice broke into my mind, forcefully enough to make me flinch. “Never mind, I can feel you now. You need to get out of there!”

“Come get me. Fast. They’re on to me.”

The shadows next to me elongated and twisted, reaching out to grab my leg. I admit to making a most undignified squeak of alarm as I was unceremoniously yanked through nothing.

“What the hell was that?” I demanded, glaring at Cor. “Where were you, why didn’t you respond? I thought you were dead.”

He coughed and took off his jacket, holding it out to me. I realized I was totally naked. I took the jacket and put it on, holding out my hand expectantly. When he looked at me with slightly panicked look on his face I grinned.

“I want your sidearm, not your pants.” I accepted his .45 and looked around the room. “Where the fuck are we and why did you ditch my gear? I’m sure it wasn’t just for an eyeful.” His jacket barely covered my hips. I resisted the urge to tug it down.

“I can’t bring other things with unless I am able to focus on them individually.” He said, “My clothes and my weapons are all familiar to me… but in a moment of stress all I had time for was you.”

“Huh. Well that’s interesting.” I said, checking the action on his pistol. “They’re bound to wonder what a plié of clothes is doing in that room. Never mind that, where did you bring me?”

“We’re in a storage room on the second floor.” He said, “This was as far as I could get without raising an alarm. Do you know where the… where your… where she is?”

“I don’t yet. They set this as a trap for me Cor, this isn’t going to end well for anyone.” I tore open a cardboard box and found medical scrubs in tidy plastic wrapped packages. A short search turned up pants that fit. I didn’t return Cor’s jacket.

“Why don’t you just start breaking things?” He asked, “Then when they show up you can just… destroy them.”

“Because I don’t know where Svenka is.” I said, “I can’t just go around blowing shit up without knowing where they have her.” I ached for a cigarette, but of course they were back in my flak vest. Not that smoking would be a great idea anyway; it’d give us away.

A crash sounded loud enough to quiet us completely.

“Was that a door being kicked in?” I asked over the Mindlink.

“Yeah, I think so.” He responded, moving to stand on one side of the door. I ran to the door and jumped above it, holding myself up by wedging fingers and toes into cracks and corners.

I held my position for a few minutes, and heard boots approaching.

“Go.” A quiet voice said, and the door was slammed open. Three men leaped into the room, scanning with flashlights mounted beneath the grips of sub machineguns. Even as they saw Cor, I shot each of them point blank in the head. His .45 was not silenced and the sound was truly shattering in such a small space.

I barely saw a pair of small projectiles fly through the door and I dropped from my perch, left hand batting the first of the grenades out the door and right foot hitting the other with a crunch that would have made me flinch if I had been focusing on it. The second one clipped the door frame and barely bounced back into the hallway before they both exploded.

The force of the blast sent me spinning into a pile of boxes, although I managed to escape most of the damage. The men in the hallway weren’t as lucky.

“Come on Cor, it’s on. We just have to kill our way to the hostages. Looks like we’re using your break shit plan after all!” I ran from the room and threw myself on the one remaining guard who was apparently shaking off the effects of the shockwave from the explosions. Judging by his scent I identified him as human. He died with my fangs in his throat.

I barely paused to grab his gun on the way by, my hunting instinct was up and I was out for blood. My initial feeling of wrath toward those who dared touch my family had died down to glowing embers, but now I fanned it to a bonfire’s flame again. It was time for these impotent little bastards to pay. They weren’t going to get away with messing with The Angel of Destruction. My reputation was earned with blood and fire. It was time for them to learn exactly how I had forged that reputation.

“Find her!” I shouted through the Mindlink, “Steal their gear, take one of their places and for fuck’s sake keep me apprised of where they are!”

“How am I supposed to do all that?” He demanded, obviously still shaken by the sudden turn of events, or perhaps the violence, or maybe just the explosion.

“Get a radio. Sweet Christ, do I have to tell you how to do everything?” I ran down the hallway, surprising a group of guards coming down the stairs.

My nails were sharp as daggers, shredding through Kevlar and flesh with equal ease. Blood and worse splattered the stairwell and I ran down, bare feet leaving a trail of carnage that even a child could follow. The only difference was a child would know not to follow it.

“She’s gone down the North stairwell.” The voice crackled over the Mindlink, Cor had simply turned his confiscated radio on loud enough to transmit loud enough for me to hear.

“Roger, follow at a discreet distance. Do not engage target until la Sonraisa arrives.”

My knowledge of Spanish wasn’t complete, but I recognized that bit. The sunrise. My skin shivered in the memory of pain.

Was this the bastard they’d sent to kill me? Was he the reason my Svenka had been taken from me? I was ready now. More than ready.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I kicked the door completely off its hinges, watching in satisfaction as it shattered the arm of the man who had been reaching to open it. A flick of the wrist removed his head from his shoulders, silencing his screams of pain. I absently licked his vitae from my fingers as I strode confidently through the spray of aortal blood.

“Wait!” The warm rain spurting from the remains of the man’s neck painted my face but I hesitated at that voice. Miranda stood at the base of the stairs, looking at me with wide, innocent eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I demanded, “I told you to wait outside of town where it was safe!”

“Please.” She looked imploringly at me, “Just wait.”

I hesitated, and that was almost my undoing. For just a moment, her face flickered and I dove back through the door. A blast of brilliant yellow light seared the exposed flesh of my left leg as I rolled free. It took much of my blood reserve to repair the damage… this was what had created the artificial sun that had nearly killed me before.

“Ren get out of there!” Cor’s voice screamed over the Mindlink and at the same time I heard the voice through his radio.

“Move in! Corner her, she can’t be allowed to escape!”

The Callindra Chronicles Chapter 7

Glarian led the way downstream to a grove of oak trees that stood evenly spaced about a meadow. The trees were huge, their limbs spreading to cover several spans. Callindra could hear the stream still, but knew it was a little way off. She set the cloth wrapped bundle that contained her lunch and water skin in the shade next to one of the trees.

“So what is the training today?” She asked, hoping for more sparring. Glarian had been testing her skills lately with what he called the direct method. Even though she had bruises and cuts covering her arms and legs from the last couple of days, it was exhilarating.

“I have completed my assessment of your strengths and weaknesses and have designed this training course for you. It will strengthen your arms and shoulders while at the same time improving your blade control.” He gestured to logs lashed to the tree trunks, many with wedges of wood behind them, holding them at odd angles.

“You must cut through these logs using this axe.” He handed her an axe with a strangely shaped handle, “Your methods are your own but with one stipulation. The bark of the tree underneath must be untouched. Come find me when you have finished.”

He walked back upstream, leaving Callindra to survey the work ahead of her. The sun was barely above the horizon but it was already hot. She stripped to her chest wrap and attacked the first log with vigor.

Cutting through the first part of the log was no problem, despite the shock of the axe impacting the solidness of the wood. She ran into trouble when the log was nearly cut through. It was so difficult to ensure the last cut did not carry through into the trunk of the tree that it took more time to sever the last inch than it had the first ten.

The sun was high in the sky by the time she had finished just the first two of the eight logs she was assigned to cut. Callindra took her lunch and headed for the welcoming chatter of the stream. Her body was soaked with sweat; it would feel wonderful to cool off in the water before eating.

She was in luck; there was a large pool of water with a wide flat rock stretching out into it. After carefully sinking the axe into a large log of driftwood and hanging her sword high and dry from it she shed the remains of her clothes and leaped into the water with a gleeful yell.

The water was cold, but it felt wonderful after sweating under the sun all morning. She dove under and held onto a large rock; looking back up towards the sky through the clear water. A strange flash and swirl of light caused her to quickly surface and when she did she saw a young man standing at the edge of the stream.

“Good morrow lass, I apologize for interrupting your swim.” He was a good enough looking man, dressed all in rather garish red leather armor with a pair of steel tipped whips at his belt.

“Not at all.” Callindra replied, doing her best to walk unabashedly from the water. In books she’d read, men and women often bathed together when they were soldiers, she didn’t want to appear prudish.

“Perhaps you could help me out. I’m looking for a powerful mage who lives in the area.” He said, not seeming at all interested in her nudity.

Callindra walked to where her clothes were sitting and tugged on her underbreeches, trying not to look hurried. While she wrapped her chest, she answered him. “I’m Callindra. I don’t know of any mages around here at all, let alone powerful ones. I’ve only been in the area for a year and a half though. Why don’t you join me for a midday meal and tell me about yourself and what brings you here.”

“Gladly, I have been walking for six hours now.” He sat on the rock and watched Callindra set out bread, apples, cheese and cuts of cold venison. “My name is Daleus, and I have been teaching myself to use a blend of weapons and magic now for five years.”

Callindra glanced involuntarily toward the place she had stashed her sword. “Magic? Why would you try to learn to use magic?”

“Magic is power and I need to become stronger in order to accomplish my goals.” He said, not noticing the fear and mistrust in her voice, “Now that I have mastered the whip I seek to challenge a Titled mage. If I can just find him I know I can take that Title from him but instead of claiming it as my own I will turn it in to The Order in exchange for admittance to their school. Then there will be nothing that can stop me.”

She forced herself to be calm and cut a slice of cheese with her belt knife. “Why would you need to go to a school if you have mastered your weapon of choice? If you have the skill to defeat a mage with a Title what more do you have to learn?”

Daleus laughed, “This Titled mage is old, it won’t be a completely fair fight but the fool has recently put up his Challenge talismans. What I might lack in skill I can make up for with youth and endurance.” He jumped up, forgetting the food set out before him.

“I’ll show you how much I have learned on my own, imagine what I could do if I had Masters to learn from!” He unlimbered his whips and began moving through the steps of what she realized was a Korumn. Halfway through, she could see something happen to his weapons. She looked closer, there were tiny glowing threads wrapping around the braided leather, all the way down to the steel tips. When the threads reached the ends, bursts of flame exploded from them every time they cracked. By the end of the Korumn Daleus was surrounded by a roaring wall of fire.

Callindra was terrified, but fascinated at the same time. To calm herself, she used the breathing exercises Glarian had taught her. Something about him seemed so familiar, but she was positive they had never met before. Her back bumped up against the driftwood that her sword rested behind, she realized she had retreated to the protection of her weapon by instinct.

Daleus turned towards her, stepping over the guttering flames with a smile on his face. “Little rabbit, I apologize. It was not my intention to frighten you. To be honest I am a bit nervous about facing a Master and I wanted to at least show someone what I was capable of before the moment of truth. I mean no harm to a young girl who has offered me a meal, what threat could a woodcutter’s daughter be?”

In spite of her fear, his dismissiveness tweaked Callindra’s pride. “I may not be a threat but that is only because I choose not to be.” She reached behind the tree trunk and retrieved her baldric, “But I am also no woodcutter’s daughter.”

He gave her an appraising look, and his eyes widened slightly. “No wonder I walked straight to this place. I can tell you don’t know it yet but you have an affinity with the Weave Callindra.” Daleus said, coiling his whips and sitting next to the meal she had laid out.

She approached cautiously, “Me? You must be joking, I’m a sword fighter, not a magician.”

“You may be both. After all, I can only command the power through my whips. Without them I’m as mundane as anyone, but I can still feel it. I can still see it.” He helped himself to bread, cheese and venison, “It sparks all around you Callindra. You positively glow with it.”

“I’ll take your word for it Daleus.” She edged up to the rock and sat across from him, setting her scabbarded sword next to her. If he had wanted to harm her he would probably have done it but magic was dangerous and unpredictable, he might kill her by accident.

“You’ve got grit Callindra, I’ll give you that.” He said with a grin, “Most girls would have run at the sight of a strange man, never mind my little flame show.”

She grunted around a mouthful of food and swallowed before answering, “I’m obviously not like most girls.”

While they ate, she asked him about the rest of the world. He spoke of a king she had only read about, lords who she did not know and his travels across the realm. Although he seemed young it was clear he had seen many strange and fantastic things in his travels. Callindra nibbled on an apple core, not wanting him to stop talking but she knew there were many more logs to cut before the day was out.

Daleus seemed to have a similar realization, because he stood and brushed the crumbs off his armor. “I had best be on my way Callindra. I thank you for the meal and the conversation. Perhaps we will meet again someday. Train hard.”

“Good luck finding your mage Daleus. Thanks for talking with me; I’ve spent over a year with only that damn old man for company.” She said and grasped his forearm in a swordsman’s handshake. He returned her clasp and left without a backward glance.

Post Mortem Chapter 7

“Hey.”  A gentle, familiar hand touched my shoulder.  “Sun’s down, it’s time to go.”

“Thanks Miranda.”  I said, rolling out from under the truck where I’d been sleeping the daylight away.  It was a touch morbid to rest inside a body bag but they were proof against ultraviolet radiation and honestly I was a walking corpse anyway.  I had forgotten how great it was to have someone who could look out for me that I could trust, I slept soundly knowing Miranda would be watching out for me.  “We ought to be there at around midnight.”

“Are you sure you want me to stay here?”  She asked, a touch of concern in her voice that I wouldn’t have been able to discern had I not been able to feel her emotions as easily as my own.

“Yes, you would only slow us down out there.  Besides, I don’t want to risk you; this is likely to get nasty pretty fast.”  I looked at her and found myself wondering how I had been able to survive without what she gave me.

“Ok, but you need to get back to me as soon as you can.”  I could feel her allowing me to feel fear, compassion and sorrow without emotion taking me over.  “I don’t want to lose you to the bitterness again.”

I touched her hand and smiled a genuine smile, “Yeah.”  For just a moment I felt something else, but then it was gone.  “I’ll be back before sunrise.”

“Take care.”  She said, smiling at me like I imagine my mother would have.

“You as well.”  I replied, smiling at her as though I imagine I would have had she been my mother.  “I don’t expect trouble but…”

“Oh please.”  She said with a laugh, “You always expect trouble.”

“Fine.”  I said, mildly annoyed.  “I expect trouble and that’s why I want you to stay back here.  If anything big happens you should be far enough away that you’ll be able to-“

“Get away?’”  She interrupted, “Escape and go where?”

“No, not escape.  I can tell you haven’t done anything like this before.”  I said with a grin, “I’m leaving you and most of the muscle out here so you can come in and bail me out if I get into shit I can’t get out of.”

Her eyes widened in mild surprise, “Really?  I thought you were being all over-protective… isn’t the rear guard the most dangerous position?”

“Only when you’re running away.”  I said, wondering what movie she’d seen that gave her that bit of insight.  “Right now it’s a lot safer than walking straight into the lion’s den like we plan on doing.”

We were on a mild rise above the city, and it was an unsettling sight.  Broken shambled about aimlessly, making me wonder just how long they could continue to be mobile until something gave out.  Burnham had designed this disease quite well it seemed.  What could burn below was doing so, bright orange flames belching black curls of smoke that blended into the darkness of the night.  Those flames were the only lights visible.

“Why hasn’t the government stepped in to do something here?”  Miranda asked, her voice reflecting the disbelief I could feel from her when she surveyed the scene.

“I don’t know.  My first guess would be they tried and failed.  I said, grimly cataloging the number of vehicles that had been destroyed.  “I’m honestly surprised they haven’t called in an airstrike.”

A burst of automatic gunfire drew my attention and I squinted, trying to focus in on the spot it had come from.  As one, the entire group of Broken turned and moved toward the sound.  It was frightening to think about that many of them moving all at once.  Of course I could use my Power on them, but that would destroy any innocent survivors there might be too and would leave me ravenous and exhausted.

I wasn’t completely unwilling to sacrifice survivors, but it was a last resort that would leave me vulnerable and in the hands of humans who would most likely be unfriendly at best.  In this particular time and place I was walking a razors edge.  I had to be careful.

Besides, I didn’t necessarily need to use my Gift for this exercise.  I had enough weapons to arm a small police force and a highly trained group of mercenaries waiting to pull me out if things went south.  I began to buckle on my gear, black flak vest over long sleeved black spandex shirt, twin silenced 9mm pistols in shoulder holsters, thin black leggings made of Kevlar webbing, throwing knives in a thigh sheath on the left and a collapsible night stick on the right.

My only truly unconventional pieces of attire were my shoes; black Vibram soled toe shoes.  I liked to be able to feel the terrain and I could move with almost absolute silence wearing them.  It wasn’t as though I had to worry about bruising my feet on rocks.  I wiggled my toes, making sure they were settled and suppressed a chuckle.  They did look sort of silly.

“Holy shit…” Cor said, watching as the Broken began to run toward the center of the city.  “What exactly is your plan?  You do have a plan right?”

“We’re going to have to play this close Cor.”  I said, switching my attention to him.  “I hope you know how to run because I don’t plan on moving slowly.”

“What?”  He tore his gaze from the burning city and its throngs of undead.

“Keep up.  I don’t want to leave you behind.”  I said, crouching and giving Miranda a languid wink before leaping from the hillside in a bound that covered nearly a half mile.  He landed about a hundred yards behind me, aggravation carrying over the Mindlink.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He asked, exasperated.  “This isn’t a fucking game, you can’t just run in headlong without a plan-“

“I do have a plan.  To run in headlong.” I snapped, “There’s no guarantee I’ll have another chance to get by all those damn Broken so if you have a better idea tell me right FUCKING now!”  Not wanting to lose momentum, I was already leaping again heading for a rooftop this time.

“Well.  No.  But that doesn’t make this any less insane.”  He said, following my leap with one to match.

“Then shut the hell up and watch my back.” I said, “And help me keep a lookout for something that doesn’t look like it’s been overrun with Broken.”

“What?  Why?  Just exactly what do you think you’re going to do?  Just kick in the door and demand their surrender?”

“I was just going to kill them all.”  I said, “Why ask for surrender?”

Cor hesitated while we landed and jumped again, “Was that a joke or are you serious?”

“They have fucked with the wrong whelp, and this bitch is out for revenge.”  I said, “Wait, look left.”  I landed on a rooftop and Cor was only a few seconds behind me.

“You think this is their stronghold?”  He asked, and I gave him an ironic smile.  The building in question was a high chain link fence topped with a triple row of barbed wire surrounding a warehouse that took up half of a city block.

“I don’t see any Broken inside the walls, do you?”  Although he was on the opposite edge of the roof, the Mindlink made him sound as though he were standing next to me.  “Besides, there’s one other thing that sets this building apart.”

He looked for a minute and then sighed in understanding, “Lights.  There are electric lights inside.”

I listened carefully and could hear the low thrum of a diesel engine underneath the cacophony of other sounds that fractured the quiet of the night.  I circled the warehouse, easily leaping from rooftop to rooftop, trying to pinpoint the location of the generator by feeling the vibrations it made.

“Renyovalia, we only have a few hours before sunrise.  We should move quickly if you want to escape.”  I could feel the tension in his sending; he was afraid.  I didn’t know if it was fear of the sun, fear of the unknown or fear of fighting but I didn’t care.

“Shut up Cor, we have four hours until sunrise.  It’s time for you to be useful.”  He had been with me for days now and I’d never seen him use his Gift even once.  “Their generator is on the first floor of that parking ramp.  From here I can’t see it but I’d bet there’s a fuel tank right next to it.  I want you to Shadowstep over there and shut it down.  Once they come to investigate we can evaluate whether to kill them and retrace their steps or move in on another entrance.”

I shifted slightly, positioning myself to get a better view and almost didn’t notice a rush of air passing my face.  Behind me a chip of a brick chimney broke off and the whine of ricochet made me drop to my stomach.  Several more silent bullets whined as they hit the edge of the rooftop, mere inches from my face but there still wasn’t any sound of a gunshot.  It was pure luck that I’d avoided being shot the first time, but now I was relying on skills gained from a lifetime of survival.  This was my game.

“Cor?”  I reached out through the Mindlink and found it dead.  Shit.  Either he had been shot or someone out there was using something to block me.  Whoever these Breakers were, they knew something about my kind.  That was enough of a red flag for me to tread far more lightly than I had initially intended.

Since they were shooting from a distance with a silenced rifle I imagined they were likely using night vision.  Well.  I could do something about night vision.  Even though my Gift was becoming more and more unstable, I still refused to shy away from it completely.  It was a part of me and I needed to be able to trust it even if it was becoming a wild, untamed thing.

I took a small flashlight from a pocket on my vest, turned it on and rolled it across the rooftop.  It bobbed for a moment and when I heard the snap of a bullet hitting the brickwork I lashed out with a thread of Power.  Instead of only destroying the flashlight, I took a pumpkin sized section of roof with it.  The dazzling light of my Gift would have certainly blinded anyone looking through an augmented scope.  Even as I tamped down the wild rage of Destruction I knew I’d only managed to bypass the first challenge.

Before my adversaries had time to recover, I ran with blinding speed, leaping off the second story rooftop, sailing easily over the chain link fence and tucking to roll to my feet a mere hundred yards from the warehouse.  I kept my pace, barely breaking stride and covered the distance to the parking garage in seconds.  An easy leap took me to the second level and I was weaving between concrete pillars, slowing my pace gradually.

The generator was right where I thought it would be.  In moments I had located the kill switch but I hesitated.  Was I really going to try and do this alone?  Had they actually killed or disabled Cor, not just shut down the Mindlink?  Up until this point, I hadn’t considered what had happened on the rooftop.

I had only been reactive; if someone really had blocked the Mindlink that meant there were other immortals here, and that meant trouble.  If they were actually using bullets that could kill one of us that quickly and silently, that could be even worse.  A door opened, spilling a beam of electric light into the parking garage and I ducked behind the generator.

Heavy footfalls tromped over to the other side of the machine, the glare of a headlamp illuminating the instrument panel on the side.  “Still got half a tank of fuel.”  A man’s rough voice said in clear, unaccented English.  The click and hiss of a radio letting me know he was reporting this to someone inside.

“Any sign of intruders?”  A voice came over the radio, audible to my enhanced ears.

“Nah.  Whoever it was across the street either Smith got ‘em or they took the hint and fucked off.”

“Good.  So no sign of the target?”

There was a hesitation, “I don’t think so.  Smith says they dropped a flashbang and messed his optics.  You don’t think that’s her do ya?  One way or another she’d have reduced this place to rubble right?  She aint known for being subtle.  There was a brief blip of chatter but-”

“Do a perimeter sweep.  A serious, full perimeter sweep.  Use the serum to make sure she’s not hiding somewhere and then report back to me.”

The man sighed and clipped his radio back onto his tactical vest.  I narrowed my eyes and gave his outfit a closer inspection, there were no sigils or insignia on it anywhere.  When he pulled a vial of faintly glowing green liquid and placed it into an injection gun I froze.  This wasn’t just a highly trained mercenary, nor was he some operative from a government agency.  He was a Hunter.

Specifically designed to destroy my kin, Hunters were a genetic experiment taken to the extreme.  The architect behind their creation was a man actually codenamed The Architect by The Tribunal and he had been slain some weeks ago by Hex.  Well with a little help from a few others, myself and Svenka included, but without Hex, we wouldn’t have stood a chance.

Now some things fell into place.  This place wasn’t an accident.  The Mexican military not being involved wasn’t an accident, the sheer number of Broken in the city wasn’t an accident.  This was an elaborate trap and I, being the blind idiot I sometimes am, had walked straight into it.  Of course, they didn’t realize I was here yet and with luck they wouldn’t until it was too late.

I whipped one of the throwing blades from my thigh sheath and threw it underhand, taking the Hunter in the throat.  He grunted and pulled it free, the wound seeming to be more of an annoyance than anything else.  Before he had time to do much more than turn to look my way another knife was in the air and I had a pistol in the other hand.

He brushed the knife flying toward his face aside as one might a gnat, but I was already firing.  My target wasn’t him, but the injector gun in his left hand.  He realized my ploy too late, growling in anger as it shattered in his hand.  The Hunter flung my knife back at me and brought up his sub machinegun.  Taking advantage of the wall behind me, I kicked off the cement and kicked him in the chest so hard that I heard his sternum shatter.

His body flew backwards and smashed into a concrete pillar.  He slumped to the floor of the parking garage, his gun clattering from limp fingers.  I ran to his side, grabbing the tactical bowie knife from its sheath on his hip and savagely hacking his head from his shoulders.  There was no way I was taking chances with a Hunter.  His blood was a slow, sluggish trickle of glowing emerald ichor.

I hefted the knife with approval.  It had good balance.  I stripped the sheath off his belt and added it to mine, carefully cleaning the blade before sliding it home.  I also grabbed his radio and crushed the other vials of serum that were in a pocket on his chest.  No reason to leave that shit for anyone else to use.  After a short search, I also turned up a single key.  Hopefully it would open any door I needed to bypass quietly.

After a quick scan of the area, I decided I was still in the clear.  The door opened with the key I had appropriated from the fallen Hunter and I slipped into the hallway, squinting against the light.  My vision adapted rapidly and I moved down the hallway, looking for a staircase down.  Instinct told me what I was looking for would be hidden and hidden usually meant down.

Post Mortem Chapter 6

After realizing I was serious about Ciudad Obregón, or perhaps after seeing me destroy half a town and then drink human blood, most of the survivors decided they were going to stay behind.  It was a much better option; I had killed the majority of the Broken and Cor had sent his men out during the day to finish the job.  Individually or in small groups, the Broken were far less dangerous and attracting them was as easy as making a bit of noise.

The only thing that nagged at the back of my mind was that they found no trace of the self-aware Infected.  I wasn’t sure if I hoped I had Destroyed them all or if I hoped they had somehow survived and escaped.  I needed to know more about them, that much was certain and if there had been a dozen here there were likely to be more elsewhere.

“We’re leaving tonight?”  Miranda asked me for the tenth time in as many minutes.  She had attached herself to me ever since I’d bitten her wrist the night before.  I had originally intended to leave immediately, but the sheer amount of work it took to organize the group of survivors had taken up so much time that I had eventually given up.

“Yes.  As soon as the sun goes down I plan on moving.”  I had found, with a bit of work, a couple of old Land Rovers from the early 1980’s with no computer bits.  The headlights were shattered, but I didn’t need them to be able to see anyway.  The only real problem was they had to be push started, but that didn’t bother me much.  I had plenty of people to put to work when it was time to go.

“So you really can’t go out in the sun?”  She asked.

“Not for long.”  I said, not wanting to reveal the entirety of my weakness.  This was foolish of course; everyone knew about vampires and sunlight unless they read those stupid sparkly books.

“You don’t seem so bad really.  I mean I guess I thought you’d be more like…” She trailed off, averting her eyes and looking out at the shadows the setting sun was throwing across the section of the city that I’d destroyed the night before.  I wasn’t sure if she was thinking about the Broken or how I’d obliterated upwards of a dozen city blocks or something else entirely.

“Well, I might not now, but you haven’t seen me when I’m truly hungry.  Or angry.”  I took the last cigarette out of the pack and lit it, wishing the sun would set faster.  “Why the hell are you following me anyway?”

She blinked, as if startled I was asking such a strange question before shrugging.  “I thought we were tied together or something now.  I mean, you fed off me right?”

I gave her a level look.  “If every human I drank from was following me around like an abandoned puppy I would repopulate this town ten times over.”  I blew a perfect smoke ring, refraining from telling her that it was when she tasted my blood that the bond would begin.  I didn’t trust any of these people to know that much… many of my own kind didn’t know that secret.

“Why can I sense where you are then?”  She asked me.

“It’s your imagination.”  I said, taking another drag, “Lots of people think there should be some sort of connection or bond between us and those we bite, but time and experience have shown me it’s purely psychological.  None of the people I’ve bitten without them knowing have expressed any sort of attachment.”

Miranda met my gaze for just a moment before looking down.  “I was I guess just hoping…  I’ve lost so much… I wanted a new beginning you know?”

“This isn’t the beginning you want.”  I said, exhaling a narrow stream of smoke, “This isn’t the beginning anyone in their right mind actually seeks out.”

“You don’t know what it’s like.” She put her face in her hands and tears leaked between her fingers.

“I don’t know what exactly?”  I grabbed her chin and forced her to look into my eyes.  “I have seen generations of people I cared about die.  I have killed children to live.  I don’t even remember what it was like to feel the sun on my skin without it blistering me.  I’ve destroyed the lives of more people than you’ve ever met.”

“My babies.”  She sobbed, “I let them take my babies.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the solar plexus.  I had never been able to have children.  “Sorry.  Living forever won’t make the pain less.”

“I don’t want to make the pain less.”  She said, looking at me through her tears.  “I don’t think one lifetime of suffering is enough to atone for my sins.”

I considered her for a long moment, wondering why I was even thinking about this.  She wasn’t anything special, didn’t have any fighting ability like Svenka or really anything else that made her stand apart.  Something else was resonating between us.  I decided I needed to know what it was.

“Sin is an illusion created to keep the masses afraid.  I will not give you the Last Kiss Miranda, but I can give you something else.”  I said, “Svenka might kill you though.”

“Is that who you are after?  Is she … who is she?”

“She is my lover and my anchor.  Only one other has ever made me feel the way she has and he died to save me.  Died to save us… to save everything.”  I said, finishing my cigarette and flicking the butt into the street.  “Miranda, you don’t understand what you are getting into so I’ll let you have a taste.”

“A taste of what?”  She asked, tears still leaking from the corners of her eyes.

“A taste of the horror that is immortality.  Most can’t handle it.  I have the feeling that you won’t last long, but that’s your concern, not mine.”  I gestured toward the building, “Come on, do a shot of Mezcal with me; I promise it’ll make you feel better.”

She followed me into what was left of the building I’d destroyed the night before.  I walked into the room that had once been a bar and snagged the last bottle of Del Maguey Arroqueno off the shelf.  With a flick of my thumb I broke the top off the bottle, making sure to allow the jagged edge to cut me enough that I would bleed.  The two shots I poured had a slight reddish color as my blood mingled with the alcohol.

“To misguided trust and unfortunate circumstances.” I said, raising my shot glass.

“To Miguel and Angelina.”  She said, raising hers in return, “My they forgive me.”

“I hope you can feel the same for me.”  I said, pouring myself another shot and waiting for what I knew was coming.  Miranda sat down hard, falling backward to land slumped against the wall.  She looked at me, her eyes becoming unfocused like she’d just shot heroin.

“What.  Was.  That….” She trailed off, only able to stare into my eyes.  After over a minute without blinking, she finally shuddered and closed her eyes.  “I can feel you.  Really feel you.”

I could, of course, feel her also.  I had plenty of practice and though I buffered myself against her emotions I felt the tears waiting to claim me.  How could she resist this emotion?

“How can you stand the pain?” Miranda asked, looking at me with tears streaming down her face, “How can you … why aren’t you crying?

“What?”  I was surprised, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh gods… the sorrow.” Miranda closed her eyes, but tears continued to stream down her cheeks, “I never imagined… I never thought…”

She was losing her mind and I knew the only way to help her was to take on some of the burden she was experiencing.  Even though I didn’t want to, I opened myself to her.  Her pain became my pain, I allowed it to course through my mind.  It was almost more than I could take.

“I never had children.”  I said, my voice flat.

“How are you not crying?  Right now?”  She repeated, looking into my eyes.  “I’m bawling my eyes out and you’re there like this pillar of ice.”

“You don’t have any idea.”  I said, “You have the sorrow of one generation in your veins.  I have the pain of several.”

“How…”  Miranda turned her tear stained face to mine.

“Time to go.” I said, “The sun’s down.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, stumbling to her feet.

“I warned you.”  I gave her a feral grin, “Most can’t handle what I have to offer.  You have lost your children and your husband.  I have lost lifetimes of friends and family.”

“You never had children.”  Miranda said, looking at me and smiling through her tears.  “I may feel pain but you will never know the joy.  I am sorry.”

Her emotions washed over me and I realized I was a fool for thinking I knew all there was to know.  I cried for what my mother must have felt for me before she died.   I wept for the things I’d never known.  The things I would never know.

“Your babies.”  I said through the tears I couldn’t stop from coming, “I wish I could have met them.”

“What?”  The surprise in her voice was palpable, “I thought-“

“I know.  You thought wrong and so did I.” I said, “There’s so much more.”  This was what I needed from her.  I needed to balance my destruction with her love of life and creation.  Oh, Svenka wasn’t going to be pleased… or maybe she would get some perspective from it as well.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath I reached into one of the pockets on the tactical vest I’d appropriated from Cor’s extra clothing stash and removed a fresh pack of cigarettes from it.  Miranda was stumbling after me, dazed and unsure of herself.

“Don’t worry too much.  It’ll get better.”  I said, lighting the cigarette and moving toward where Cor’s mercenaries were loading one of the trucks.  “Maybe try and sleep it off… although I’d recommend getting up at around midnight.  If you’re traveling with me you’ll need to keep my hours.”

“Ren.  We’re ready to move out.” Cor said, giving my companion a dismissive glance.  “We have a lot of ground to cover before sunrise.”

“Let’s go then.”  I climbed in the first truck, pulling Miranda into the passenger’s seat and Cor got into the second.  We each had a half dozen people, a mix of mercenaries and civilians.  It was going to be a long drive.  I grinned, feeling hopeful for the first time since Svenka and I were separated.  I was going to find her and then I was going to make the ones who hurt her pay.

Post Mortem Chapter 5

There were forty people in the building still alive.  Cor’s men were barricading the doors so we could have some time with the survivors without being interrupted by the occasional Infected.  When none of the people in the room seemed as though they were going to step forward and take the lead, I chose one at random.

“What were you all doing in this place with those Infected?”  I asked a man with a shocked, beaten expression on his face.  With intense concentration, I found learning Spanish hadn’t been nearly as difficult as I thought it was going to be.

“They were… keeping us.”  He said hesitantly, looking at me and then at the soldiers.

“I’m not blessed with an overabundance of patience in the best circumstances.”  I said with an intentionally toothy smile.  “Answer the fucking question.”

“They eated some and keeped the others safe from the broken ones.”  A regarded me with too-serious eyes.  He couldn’t have been older than ten.  “That what mommy said.  How many are you going to eat to keep us safe now?”

I looked at the man I had originally been speaking to.  He didn’t meet my eyes.  Whatever the cost had been, they’d paid it to survive.  How had things gotten so out of hand for them so quickly?  Why hadn’t anyone been fighting back?  What could possibly possess anyone to make such a deal?  I certainly couldn’t sit around here and babysit, I had things to do.

“I’m looking for someone.”  I said, forcing myself not to look at the kid and instead focus on the man.  “She has an athletic build, white blonde hair in a braid that hangs to her waist, lots of silver knives, might have been here a day or so ago.”

“She’s gone, with the rest of them.”  He said in a dull voice.  “The same guys who took the others.  They all had guns… what could we do?”

I looked around at the room and realized there was one major discrepancy.  The only women here were under ten or over forty.  “Was she OK?  Look, I know her there’s no way a bunch of thugs with guns would be able to just drag her off.”

“No.  She didn’t go quietly.” He said, his face finally showing something other than despair.  “She killed seven of them.”

“Only seven?”  I asked, “She must have been really hurt.”

“Yeah.  There was burns an stuff.”  The boy said, “Just standing cracked her skin and made her bleed but she fighted anyway.  She was amazing.”

“Burns?”  I knew where she had gotten those from.  Protecting me from the heat of the sun, putting out the fires that were blossoming on my skin had cost my lover dearly.  In spite of knowing I had hurt her terribly, I wanted to sing.  She was alive.

“It was the strangest thing I ever saw.”  The older man said, “She had such terrible burns… but only on the front of her body… almost looked like it was in the shape of a smaller body.”

“That’s exactly what it was.” I said, “Where the hell is she?  Where have they taken her?  If I can’t get there in time she’ll have died saving me instead of just being burned.”

“They’ve got a place in Ciudad Obregón.  It’s mostly gone to the things… the Broken.”  He said, “There’s only two powers there, the Broken and the Breakers.”

“Damn.  I guess I have to go there then.”

“But… you can’t.”  The boy said, “You taked our protection.  We will all get eated if you go away and you will get eated if you go to Ciudad Obregón.  You will get eated if you leave here at all!”

A crash against the door echoed his comments.  How many of the damn Broken were out there anyway?  “I’m going to go check it out.”  I said, turning to climb the stairs.

When I got to the second floor and found a window to look out of I was honestly astonished.  There must have been nearly a thousand shambling forms outside, drawn by the scent, light and noise coming from the building.  Did I dare use my Power?  I didn’t know how far reaching The Tribunal’s influence was.  Even if I chose someone at random they might have something worse in their veins than their last little ‘present’ David had.

Of course the alternative wasn’t stellar either.  I didn’t have anywhere near the firepower I’d need to shoot my way out of here and if I left these people without protection they would certainly die.  Things had gotten more out of hand than I’d ever anticipated they could have been but now that I was in the thick of things I could hardly turn my back and walk away.

I went back downstairs and sought out Cor.  I wanted his true, unvarnished opinion and for that I didn’t want to use the mindlink.  I wanted him to tell me what he thought on his own.  Cor was supervising the reinforcement of the most vulnerable portals against the tide of Broken.  When he saw me approaching he came over.

“What’s it look like out there?”  He asked a slight frown on his face.

“Bad.  Upwards of a thousand of them from what I could see.”  I said, “We don’t have enough rounds even if we take every one down with a single bullet.”

“So what’s the plan then?”  His slight frown deepening was the only sign of his increasing concern.

“I was hoping you might have an idea.”  I said, “I can’t use my Gift… I don’t know if I can trust the blood of any of these.”

“Yeah, it’s tough with the Broken all around.  You never know who might have some of that contamination in their vitae.”  He shook his head, “Damn.  Well… I might be able to scrounge up something…”

“Like what?” I asked, curious as to what was going through is head.  Before he could answer, we were interrupted by the back door shattering under the pressure of the Infected battering away at it from the outside.

I only hesitated for an instant; but even that was too much.  The nearest person to the door was grabbed by horribly strong fingers and pulled into the ravening horde beyond.  I never even knew the little boy’s name.  It was too much.

I crossed the room in the blink of an eye the pistol appearing in my right hand and the machete in the left.  The first three Broken fell with bullets through the forehead, and then I was among them with blade forming a wall of sharpened steel that struck with the strength the Dark Gift granted us all behind it.  Skulls split like pumpkins, but they kept coming.  In less than a minute there were so many corpses in the doorway that the other Broken had to climb over them.

I gathered myself to use my Gift, to remove them from existence and I felt the Power flare inside me.  It was just like when I’d used it and nearly killed Svenka.  I pushed it away in terror; I couldn’t risk losing control again.  I fought desperately, dropping the pistol and switching the machete to my right hand.

“DOWN!” Cor’s voice broke through the red mist of combat and I dropped like I’d been poleaxed.  A burst of gunfire swept across the Broken, all but sealing the entrance and I backed away, shaking.

“We have to leave.  We have to go, right now.”  I knew I was panicking but I couldn’t stop, “I can’t use it Cor, I don’t trust myself… nothing that big… I can’t… without her it’s too dangerous, I get close to the precipice and there’s nothing holding me back.  If I fall from it I’ll take everything with me.”

“Relax.  We have time to evacuate.”  He said, staring at the corpses blocking the doorway with a look of mild surprise, “I can’t believe that actually worked.”

“There is another building across the alley that I think we could use.”  A woman in her late forties approached us, trying not to look at the bodies.  “If we’re quiet they might not notice us.”

Was I really going to run away from this?  These things were what I’d come to destroy, was I going to let them intimidate me?  If I left now, what would become of Hex’s sacrifice?  I needed to overcome whatever was standing in my way and this should be a small obstacle.

“No.  I will remove them.”  I said, squaring my shoulders.  “The rest of you should get ready to run.  I will deal with the Broken.”

A flash of Destruction removed the front of the building.  I was vaguely aware of the people behind me, but was too focused on what I was doing to pay much attention.  The raging flood of anger and fear boiling within me lashed out in a column of pure white annihilation and I could feel it breaking free of my control.  I fought desperately to rein it in, but all that happened was it burned hotter.

An arm linked with mine and I saw the woman who had tried to convince me to run just moments before.  Someone else did the same on the other side and I could feel the rest of the Survivors forming ranks behind me.  Their trust was more than I could bear and at the same time pushed me beyond my limits.  I dominated the need to destroy by trusting that it would obey.  This was my Gift, no matter who had altered it and made it more powerful… it was still a part of me.

I opened my eyes and saw a wide expanse of perfectly clear sky.  The buildings ahead were all gone; their foundations gaping like empty graves in the light of the waxing moon.  The restless dead were also absent, nothing was moving within my line of sight.  I was hungry, but not as ravenous as I feared I would be.

“What… are you?”  I expected incredulity from the humans, but this question came from Cor.

“She’s our savior.”  The man on my right said, “That’s enough for me.”

“You don’t know what I am.”  I said, my voice low and hollow.  “You wouldn’t be so accepting if you knew the truth.  Not that it matters; I will take what I need when I need it.”

He tried to remove his arm from mine and after a moment I let him.  There was fear in his eyes, but after all he’d seen and agreed to what more could I possibly do to him?  Certainly I could end his life, but I hadn’t so far and in fact had protected him.

“I’m leaving.  Right now.  If you want to come with me, you will have to accept that I can’t always keep you safe and the likelihood of you dying will grow with each passing day.  I will require you to give me your blood, but not your lives, in exchange for this protection even as unpredictable as it is.”  I turned to look at them, knowing my eyes would be shining silver in the moonlight.  “If any of you moves to betray me in any way you will die.  I have no time for scheming, power struggles or games.”

“You need our … blood?”  The woman on my left quavered.

I smiled a feral, toothy smile at her, “Yes.  I am a filthy, bedamned bloodsucking monster in spite of whatever misconceptions you might have had based upon my briefly winged appearance and the fact that I saved your lives.  I’ll do whatever it takes to do what needs doing and if you stand against me nothing will save you, no matter which of your impotent gods you pray to.”

“Then take mine first.”  She said, meeting my eyes with a fearful but determined gaze.

In spite of it all, humans never ceased to amaze me with their strength… and their cowardice.  I knew she was overcoming a terrible fear but also that she was giving up at the same time.  It had been a long time since I had overcome such an obstacle.  All too often I’d been content with giving up lately.  That was going to change.  Without ceremony, I grabbed her hand, turned the wrist so the inside faced me and bit.  And drank.

The Callindra Chronicles Chapter 6

Callindra woke with sore muscles but not as bad as she had feared.  The herbs Glarian had put in the bath must have helped, although her healed leg was shaky and sent a thrill of pain up her spine when she put weight on it.  She stretched and felt a strange wind blow against her skin.  It was almost as though air was moving from all sides of her room towards her at the same time.  She shivered, and not because she had slept naked.  The dust whirled around her in the predawn glow.  Something was changing, and it did not feel like a natural or welcome change.

Her hair was tangled and she remembered how it had gotten in her way the day before.  On a whim she drew the sword Glarian had given her and gathered her hair in a bundle at the nape of her neck.  The edge was good enough that she was easily able to hack the majority of it off in a ragged line.  She didn’t really care if it was straight or not as long as it didn’t interfere with her baldric.  How was Glarian able to properly wield his sword with that huge braid?

She wrapped her chest, tying it off just behind her left arm, and then donned the rest of her clothes.  Wide, loose breeches, a shirt with short sleeves and a wide neck for ease of movement, light wool socks that would pad her feet properly inside her thin leather shoes but still allow her to feel the ground.

Glarian was already out in the main room drinking tea and stirring porridge.  “You’re up on time.  Good, I have a busy day planned for you.  How are your muscles feeling this morning?”

“Not as bad as I feared, but not perfect.  That bath certainly helped.”  She said, helping herself to some tea.  Feeling his eyes on her, she flushed slightly. “My leg hurts but I can handle it.”

“This morning we will start with something slightly different.  We must meditate and stretch before training each day from now on.”  He served some porridge for them, adding a generous spoon of honey.

“I understand the stretching, but why meditation?  Isn’t that for priests and the like?”  She asked, confused.

“Do not question the methods of your Master.  It will benefit us both I think.”  He said.

After breakfast, Glarian instructed her to follow him outside and sit in the center of the small courtyard she had practiced in yesterday, sword across her knees, hands touching hilt and flat of the blade.

“The first Korumn is breath.  You must learn to control your breathing as this is the source of your power.  For others breath gives life, but for us it also takes life away.  Be aware of your breath flowing into your body through your nose.  Be aware of it leaving your mouth.  Feel its power and pull that power to the center of your abdomen.”

She closed her eyes and tried to do as he instructed.  As she relaxed something began building inside, almost as though when she breathed out the air was staying inside.

“Do not hold the power; let it flow through you like the wind through the trees.  Although it surrounds and fills you, allow it to calm and focus you instead of being a distraction.”  His voice droned on, and Callindra lost herself in the ebb and flow of her breathing.  When he touched her shoulder to let her know it was time to begin the day’s training she was startled to see the sun well above the horizon.

“Now we will begin with the strikes I taught you yesterday.”  Glarian said, “Then I will show you something new.”

“Something new already?  But I haven’t mastered the first two strikes you taught me yet!”

“Mastered?”  Glarian laughed heartily, “Girl I have been a disciple of the Sword for longer than you’ve been alive and I don’t consider myself to have mastered any of it.  There is always room for improvement.  Remember, no matter how often you practice or how experienced you are, there is always more to learn.  To cease learning is to die.”

Where had she heard that before?  She was sure she had heard someone say something like that before.  Or maybe she had read it.  Before she had the chance to ponder it further, Glarian started the day of training.  The thought was soon lost in physical exertion.

It had been a month now and Glarian was pushing much harder than he would have with any other student.  Callindra was developing far faster than he had been afraid she would but not as fast as he needed her to.  He didn’t like being a harsh task master, and forcing her to the very edge of her limits had put a strain on their relationship.  More often than not he had to rely on her anger to get her through and he knew he had to change tactics before she built up bad habits.

He had to make sure she was strong enough though.  She was on the verge of collapse, nearly at her limit but there was something there still.  One problem was that leg; he wasn’t sure it would withstand what it needed to.  She had to be tested.

“Only the strong survive girl.  You’re useless to me if you can’t even stand on your own two feet.  Didn’t you say you wanted to be stronger?  If this is all the resolve you have you wouldn’t last one day under a true Master.”  She looked up at him through tear stained eyes.  “I said get up.”

Staggering to her feet, she barely managed to rise completely before the leg that had been shattered buckled and she had to catch herself by grounding the tip of her practice sword.  Glarian shook his head seemingly in disgust.  “Go back to bed.  You aren’t fit to walk on that leg, much less learn even the most rudimentary stances.  Females have no tolerance for pain and limited ability to learn.”

“NO!”  Callindra assumed the first Stance, her left leg shaking from the effort, her face white from agony as sweat began to drip down her forehead.  “I told you I’d do your damn training in two seasons and if you can’t stand to see a girl in pain maybe you should get a nursemaid to help you through your dotage.”  Glarian’s eyes narrowed slightly, smoothing out wrinkles on his weathered cheeks.

“Fine, I don’t want to hear you blubbering all night long again though.  I’m a light sleeper.  After you run the first six Stances ten more times there’s wood to be split and water to be hauled.  You’d better haul double if you want a warm bath.”  He turned and walked back to his small stone house without looking back, his long steel-gray braid swinging like an agitated cat’s tail.

Wiping the sweat and tears from her face Callindra ground her teeth against the pain and began moving slowly through the Stances.   “I’ll show him, if I don’t have talent I’ll just have to practice harder.  Just because I’m weak doesn’t mean I have to stay that way.  I will prove to him I’m worthy of being his disciple.  I have to.”  Unaware of the eyes watching her intently from the darkened window of the house, she moved through all ten of the Stances Glarian had taught her instead of just the first six.

“Damn.  If I push her hard enough she just might survive the testing.  If she manages to survive, perhaps she can carry my fighting style on.  Maybe it won’t have to die with me.  She’ll need something unique though; she’s just not strong enough to use the sword it calls for.  In order to unlock her true potential and to protect the blade itself from her wielding it I’m going to have to bend the rules a little.”

Sitting on the hearth he drew his blade, after meditating for a few minutes with the bared blade across his knees he passed his hand over the mirror polished surface; calling arcane letters to the surface with a whisper of wind.  “Belach.  I’m calling in that favor.  I need a Blade.”

Forming an image of Callindra in his mind and her potential, he raised the blade he blew the spell off the end, completing the Sending.  With a sigh, he sat back next to the fire and packed his pipe with tac, waiting for a response from the smith.

The reply to his Sending came after a shorter period of time than he’d anticipated.

“Glarian, you cocky fuck.  Do you really think you’ll get away with it?  Whatever, I’ll make her a sword; after all it’s a challenge and I owe you regardless.  I’m warning you though, it won’t last.  That girl… she’ll destroy it.  She’s got too much power for that frame and she’ll take it out on whatever sword you give her.  Either that or it’ll kill her and you along with her.  If she was here for me to measure her potential myself I might be able to pull it off, but that little whelp is fucking dangerous, you’re nuts if you try to train her.

“In other words, I know you’re training her you stupid bastard.  Watch your ass and I’ll get the sword to you in a year.  Stay alive until then, and keep her alive.  I don’t want all this fucking work to go to waste.”

So it was bad then, worse than he had feared.  Glarian took a deep breath and blew it out, nearly extinguishing the fire in the process.  It was years since he had exhibited lack of self-control like this.  He was committed now though; there was no turning back.

He walked outside, unsheathing Sakar as he went.  This was going to be a difficult journey.  He had better be in condition to handle whatever came; it was beginning to worry him that no one had come to challenge him in spite of the talismans being active for a month.  It was only a matter of time; they were probably watching him already.

Callindra was too angry to feel the pain and exhaustion as she went to the wood shed and began splitting kindling for the evening fire.  Thankfully the axe handle touched different places on her palms than the sword hilt and she made quick work of it.  She was too weak and she knew it.

Next she grabbed the yoke and buckets for water.  She hated the yoke because it was hard to fit over her shoulders when she had the baldric on and because she had difficulty taking it off without getting help or spilling all the water.  Her arms weren’t up to the task of carrying the buckets on their own though.  Not yet.

The path down to the stream was well-worn.  She and Glarian weren’t the only animals who walked it, they shared it mainly with deer but she had seen signs of bears and even wolves as well so she always made her way carefully.  After all, Glarian had killed that puma not far from here.

A flock of birds took to wing on her left, she tried to turn quickly to track where they had come from but the yoke and buckets hampered her.  With a growl of frustration she hurried to the stream, filled the buckets and walked back to the house as fast as she could, trying to look in every direction at once.

She entered the clearing and saw Glarian.  He was practicing the Seventh Korumn, she had seen it before although she was in no way ready to try it.  With every swing he jumped in the air, each time getting higher and higher until he hardly seemed to touch the ground at all.  When the Korumn was finished, he balanced lightly on the balls of his feet, a blast of air from the impact of his landing seeming to move Callindra’s hair, even at this distance.

Seeing his skill and the beauty of the Korumn wiped the thoughts of anger from her mind.  “Master, you are amazing!”

She knelt next to the cistern, ducking out from underneath the yoke.  Her leg screamed at her, but she ignored it.  Pain was fleeting; unless she managed to push past it there was no way she could ever get stronger.

“It has been too long since I have completed all seven Korumn in a row.  I’m actually quite rusty.”  He was stripped to the waist, sweat beading on his forehead.  The muscles on his shoulders rippled as he sheathed his sword.  Callindra was reminded of how far she had to go, even just in basic strength.  She marveled at his perfectly muscled frame, wondering if she would ever be able to measure up to his expectations.

“That should be enough water for you Master; I’ll go get water for my bath now.”  She said, shouldering the buckets again in spite of the sharp protest her muscles made.  She would become stronger.  She would rise to the challenge he had presented.  She didn’t have a choice.  When she turned to go, she missed the approving look on his face.

His apprentice was finally showing some grit, Glarian smiled as she left to get more water.  That limp had him worried though, he had to make sure she didn’t push herself too hard.

“I think she shows promise, although it won’t matter in a few minutes.”  A voice seemed to come out of nowhere.

Glarian turned calmly, hands at his sides.  “It was clever of you to wait until after I’d practiced.  A good strategy, but I have plenty of stamina.  I’m not your typical old man.”  A man slipped from the shadows, drawing a wicked looking scimitar from his belt.

“You’re right.  You are a dead man.”  The attack was so fast Glarian barely had the chance to draw his sword.

He rapidly retreated, whirling Sakar in a defensive arc and deflecting multiple blows that would have sliced him in half.  In spite of the frantic appearance of his blocks, he made sure to bring the thicker back edge of his blade in contact with the exact same part of his opponent’s scimitar.  When the onslaught was over, he took two more steps back and shook his head.

“It is customary to issue a challenge before attacking.  I like to know who I am fighting and why.”

“I am Sain and you are The Master of the North Wind.”  He spun his scimitar in an ornate pattern, the tassel that hung from the pommel whirling in counterpart to the blade.  “This is Kha’darn and today we shall take that title from you.”

“The challenge is accepted, until one of us is dead, whether it be man or weapon.  Sakar severs the life of man or blade with equal contempt.”

Sain hesitated for a moment as if the idea of risking his sword had not occurred to him.  In that moment, Glarian lashed out with all the force he could muster, striking his opponent’s sword at the precise spot he had already weakened.  The scimitar Kha’darn exploded into fragments of steel.

Without so much as admitting defeat, Sain fled into the trees.  Glarian picked up the discarded sword hilt and brought it inside the house with him.  Entering through the lean-to he hung it next to the first clay token of challenge.  The first trophy of many.

He opened the spigot over the bath, gravity filling the large copper tub that sat next to the fire.  The fire was low, but Callindra had split enough wood to get it going again.  In a few minutes the water was hot and he was soaking comfortably in it when he heard Callindra return.  It looked as though she had bathed in the cold water of the stream instead of waiting for a hot bath.

She paused in the doorway to her bedroom, “Master, I’m sorry.  I know I’m weak but I will get stronger.  I will become worthy of your training.”

“I know you will Disciple.  I won’t allow you to fail.” He said, unable to keep the approval from his voice.  He saw the smile on her face as she turned and knew she understood.  He would not allow her to fail.