Tal’s life was balanced on the edge of a sword. He searched the woman’s emerald eyes, hoping for a shred of compassion. The only thing he found was cold triumph, that and wariness. She was waiting for him to try something. Not that he was that foolish.
He kept his hands in plain view, knowing she’d need little excuse. Nor was she unwise to be so vigilant. Tal only needed a few heartbeats to finish a spellweb, which she was well aware of. Those few heartbeats may has well have been an eternity. They were more than enough time for her to make good on her threat regarding his manhood.
Vampyr regeneration did not allow one to regrow limbs. He could heal a cut, or perhaps even a broken bone. But one’s manhood? That was something not even a vampyr could recover from, and he was rather attached to his.
“You cannot possibly intend to release me. What game are you playing at?” he asked, wishing in vain for another mug of scut.
“Quite the contrary. I’ll release you if you ask it. Of course, I’ll also reveal your true nature to these good people,” the woman replied with a throaty laugh. Her grin was predatory. Tal absolutely loathed her.
“And the alternative?” he asked. There had to be one. Otherwise he’d already be dead.
“I’ve been ordered to return you to Eben’s Spur. If you fight me every step of the way the journey will take months,” the woman explained. She casually replaced the slender dagger in her boot. “My nation is about to go to war. I need to get home quickly and that requires your cooperation.”
“What will keep me from running off?” he asked. It was a risky question, but the answer was important. He had to know what sort of hold she believed she had over him.
“You won’t,” she replied with a malicious grin. She withdrew a silver bracelet set with three acorn sized emeralds from a leather pouch on her belt. “You’ll be wearing this.”
“And what exactly is that?” Tal asked. He had a sinking feeling he already knew. He’d never seen that particular eldimagus, but was well versed in the arcane. He knew what such items could do.
“I wear it’s companion. If you stray more than a hundred paces from me you will die in agony,” the woman replied in a neutral tone, as if telling him the ingredients to the stew they’d eaten. “When we reach Eben’s Spur I will remove it. You’ll face the judgement of the council and if they find you innocent you’ll be released.”
“We both know they will never find me innocent. My very nature makes me guilty,” Tal growled, struggling to stifle his frustration. He tensed, preparing a spellweb. “I have no incentive to cooperate. I’m better off taking my chances here.”
“Don’t be so hasty. Your situation isn’t as dire as you describe,” the woman replied, raising a hand to forestall him. She reached over and took a healthy swallow of scut before continuing. “As you pointed out you helped Eben’s Spur. If not for you Grond and his companions would be dead, and our people would never have been rescued. We’d be facing an army of shamblers, backed by the might of a dreadlord. You’ll be given a chance to speak in your defense and you’ll have the entire trip to prepare for the trial.”
“Or,” she continued, gaze seizing his. He found murder there. “You can die right here. Right now. A simple enough choice I’d wager.”
A deafening peal of thunder rolled over the inn and the wind rose to a howl. It was the sort of moment one would expect in a story, the type that created dramatic tension. Only this wasn’t a story. Or if it was, it was a poor one.
“I have no choice and you know it,” Tal answered through clenched teeth. Beautiful the woman might be, but he already hated that smug smile. “I’ll wear your bloody bracelet.”
“Wonderful,” the woman replied. She flipped the catch on the bracelet and it swung open. Quick as a cat she snapped it over his right wrist. The metal was warm to the touch, but otherwise indestinguishable from any other piece of jewelry. “As we’ll be travelling together I suppose you need my name. I am Elora LaRille. Now that we’re aquainted I’m going to retire. Tracking you down was exhausting and we need to be on our way at first light. Don’t drink too much or you’ll regret it come morning.”
She clapped him on the shoulder and headed down the bar towards the innkeeper. The pair spoke for a moment, after which the innkeeper pulled an iron key from a box under the bar and handed it over. Elora headed down a narrow hall to the area Tal presumed was meant for guests. Good riddance.
“Innkeeper, ” Tal called, pounding his mug on the bar. “Could I trouble you for another bottle of that scut?”
The woman hurried over, snatching another dusty bottle from the row behind the bar as she approached. She pulled a second mug from under the bar and filled it after she’d poured him a generous splash of the amber liquid.
“I don’t know how you got mixed up with the likes of that woman, but you’ve got my sympathy. She looks like she chews rocks for fun,” the innkeeper said. She walked around the bar and sat on the stool next to Tal. “It’s been a long day and tomorrow will be longer. I could use a sit down and a mug or two of scut. Share the bottle with me. It’s on the house.”
“You have my sincere gratitude,” Tal replied, raising his mug in a salute before taking a healthy swallow. He was starting to like the woman, despite knowing her demeanor was result of his spellweb. “I am Talius. You have the right of things with that woman. She is not someone to be trifled with.”
“Name’s Marya,” the woman replied. She peered around to make sure no one was listening, then leaned in close to deliver a scut laden whisper. “The story you gave stinks worse than horse shit, but I don’t need to know what trouble you’re really in. Don’t much care to get involved. The thing is, you strike me as a fellow who can disappear when he wants to. Why not slip out now? You’ll be miles away by the time that harlot wakes.”
Tal was still mulling his answer when the common room door crashed open. Marya gave a start and turned to face the figure in the doorway. Rain sprayed through the opening in icy sheets, and the door banged against the wall as the wind flung it about.
“Come in or get out, but close that bloody door before you drench the lot of us,” the innkeeper barked.
She rose from her stool and approached the figure, a slight woman no taller than Tal’s shoulder. She had waist length brown hair plastered to her face by the rain. The girl wore nothing but a cotton shift, soaked to transparency by the rain. It was soiled with mud around the hem and torn in at least three places. The girl looked like she’d been rolling around in the mud.
“Anika? I hardly recognized you. What’s the matter lass?” Marya asked as she approached. She plucked a worn brown cloak from the row along the wall and threw it around the girl’s shoulders. “You’ve better sense than to be in out this. What’s come over you? Last I heard you’d taken a fever. Has it broken? Where’s Wilhem? He should be looking after you.”
There was something wrong about the girl. Her shoulders were thrust too far forward, and she stood on the balls of her feet. Like a predator. Sudden realization washed over him. Tal was just beginning to rise when chaos erupted.
The girl lashed out, seizing Marya’s arm and biting down with an audible crunch. Marya gave an agonized shriek, and every chair in the room scraped the floor at once. People leapt up, some fleeing through the doorway while others shrank back against walls.
One of the largest sailors, a beefy man in a blue tunic that barely constrained his shoulders, wrenched a leg from a table. The table crashed to the floor, sending stew and scut everwhere. He lurched across the room where Anika was still chewing on the innkeeper’s meaty arm. The man gave a roar and brought the leg down on Anika’s head with both hands.
A sharp crack echoed through the room, yet the blow had no visible effect on the girl. She released Marya and spun to face her assailant, mouth awash in the innkeeper’s blood. Her eyes were vacant and lifeless, but she moved with incredible speed.
She lunged forward wrapping spindly arms around the man’s legs and sinking her teeth into his left thigh. He gave a roar of pain and toppled backwards, smashing a chair under his bulk. Anika scuttled atop him like a beetle latching onto his chest and chewing noisily.
Tal finally reacted. He rose from the stool and slid Kira from her scabbard. He wasn’t a master swordsman by any stretch, but he was skilled enough to stab a target that wasn’t aware of his presence. He crept forward, moving slowly and deliberately towards Anika.
She heard him anyway. The thing rose from her victim, face covered in gore. Her shift was soaked through, but no longer with water. Now it was stained scarlet all down the front. Anika turned her lifeless gaze directly on Tal. Then she leapt.
