Shadows of the Keeper (27 page)

Dragged in, the prisoner was
mercilessly dumped like a heap of refuse.  So still he remained, she
wondered if this was their next form of torture: a rotting corpse.

Emily assumed wrong.

Guards kicked him several times and
beat him with their clubs.  Failing to elicit a reaction, they hauled him
deeper into her cell.  She remained as immobile as possible.  Maybe,
if she didn’t even blink, they’d forget her existence.  Shoulder-hoisting
their captive, they slammed him against the rocky wall.  Emily winced, her
own back heavily bruised from the same treatment four days earlier. 
Had
it been four days?  He grunted, the first sound Emily heard emitted from
him.  Keeping him propped up, two Lumynaries stretched his arms out on
either side, tethering his wrists to the wall.  They stood back, laughing when
he sagged.  Despondent, the only thing alive about him seemed to be his
moon-bright hair. 

Hissing erupted above; hissing
sounding much like what had delivered her to this horrific nightmare.  The
door opened wider.  A shadow spilled across the threshold.

The priestess.  Breathtaking. 
White hair billowed, its length spilling to her waist and pulled off her face
by way of a macabre crown of silver thorns.  But Emily had learned the
hard way, beyond the façade of the bitch’s beauty, a terror not even the
scariest movie could depict sapped Emily’s inner light. 

The whip cracked.  Emily
flinched.  Then tensed, waiting for the blaze of agony.  Nothing. 
Her new cellmate, however, was not so fortunate.  His head reared, knocking
against jagged rock.  Emily winced, knowing firsthand the wallop he’d just
given himself.  Repeatedly, the whip uncoiled.  Triple whips.  Ricocheting. 
Blood soaked.  Prisoner’s chest, flayed.  

I’m next
.

Snatching a torch, a squat guard
garbled in a guttural language too awful to exist.  Thrusting flame closer
to the face of the abused, he laughed while repeatedly slapping the prisoner.

Eyes blazing red, the captive spit blood
at the jailor.

Emily screamed and launched from
her shadowed haven.  “Don’t touch him!”  She clawed a bared arm,
grappling a fistful of luminous hair, doing her best to yank the creature away
from the prisoner.

Ferocious growling erupted.

Razors sliced across her back.

Emily arched, agony siphoning air
from her lungs in a loud single whoosh.

She couldn’t even scream.  A
second searing succeeded in ripping her back apart everywhere at once. 
She clung to the captive, her backside taking his whipping.  Coherent only
of loud buzzing in her ears, she looked up into the face of her new cellmate.

He glared down at here, fangs
bared.  His fury pulsated. 

Dezenial. 

Her relief evaporated.

She was grabbed and slammed to the
dirt.  Emily exploded into flailing limbs, her fists landing hard against
flesh, her teeth sinking into whatever had the misfortune to come within
reach.  Inhumane bellows from her dream phantom vibrated against cold
stone walls. 

Coherency left her for a long time.

*   *   *   *   *

“It would seem you are once again
in need of my rescuing.”

“A bang up job you’re doing,” Emily
quipped, keeping very still.

Weak laughter morphed into
coughing.

“Maybe you should save your
strength for our great escape.”

He barely mustered a slight shake
of his head.

“Dezenial?”

“Mmmm?”

“I really hate spiders.”

Hissing erupted from an
unfathomable darkness high above.  Bevy of yellow eyes peered down at
them.  “Land-dwellers,
we
are not fond of,” the multi-appendage
beasts said in unison.

Emily quaked.  Pain and fear
twice caused her to scream uncontrollably.  How long each episode lasted,
she’d never be able to discern.  Each time, Dezenial’s chants had brought
her back to the shore of reality. 

“Dez?”

Another grunt.

“I think I detest being naked even
more.”

His head lifted, grinning. “I
assure you . . . I am not insulted.”

“Wretch.”  She shifted.  And
hollered.  Searing pain let her know movement was not an option. 

“Clothe you, Highness . . . in the
. . . finest silks.”

“That you force our brethren to
spin for you!”  The arachnids hissed.  “Keep them in glass cages!”

“I’d settle for a potato
sack.  Can you make them shut up?”

Dezenial gave another shake of his
head.  “Your brethren should never have begged favors from Drakar.”

Emily tried visually sifting
through the moving shadows above while awaiting their argument.  None
came.  Were they contemplating his statement?  Or plotting when to
make him their next meal?  Spinners.  Emily shuddered, and not from
the cold, hard packed dirt she huddled upon.  Half Lumynari for their
torso, two legs and a head, but where humans and Lumynaries had two arms, they
had three on each side.  It was the freakiest thing she’d ever
seen—endless screaming, when they’d first captured her, confirmed this. 
They could walk upright, or squat down and scuttle, crab-like.  Fangs
protruded from their mouths, black hair twisted into dreadlocks.  Blade
had whizzed past her, swinging, cutting, maiming, until they’d ensnared him in
their thick webbing.  Something had stung her; blessedly, she’d succumbed
to darkness.

She’d not seen Blade since.

“When the sentry returns for you,”
Dezenial started, coughing a few times.  “You will be taken to
Drakar.  They think you are . . . finally broken.”  More
coughing.  “They will now begin starving you . . . making you
desperate.”  He jerked his head.

“What can I do?”  Emily
whispered. “There’s no way you can keep standing there, shackled, bleeding . .
.”  She’d been foolish enough to run across the slimy cold cell, throwing
her body in front of him. 
What the hell had I been thinking
? 
Statuesque-stillness was the only way to prevent her shredded back from pulling
and tearing more.  Even breathing became a chore, ever-so-careful not to
inhale too deeply. 

“You’re lucky to be alive.” 

She could hear his ragged breathing
worsening.

“You are . . . special
captive.  Brave their cruelty . . . I will find you.”  He sagged.

“Dezenial!”  Emily stood,
crying out.  Flesh across her spine pulled, ripped, blood coursing down
her back.  She gagged.  Shamed by her nudity, hating even more her
modesty, she ambled over and seized his dark head.  His long white hair
was blood soaked.  “Dez?”  Lightly, she smacked his hollow
cheek.  His face swam both from her tears and dizziness. 
“Dezenial?  Come on.  Please don’t leave me.”  She looked over
her shoulder, but their guard wasn’t the least bit interested from his side of
the thick door.  Hissing erupted.  Emily flinched, whipping her gaze
upward.  Were the spider-thingies about to descend and make a meal of
them?  She imagined the smell of blood from both their open wounds had the
beasts salivating.  Again, a wave of dizziness.  Movement on his
forearm caught her attention.

“They shackled you with snakes?”

“Careful . . . Keer’dra.”

“Dezenial!”  Hot tears
flowed.  She touched his hair, his arms, careful to avoid his wounds. 
She caressed his beautiful face.

“Keer’dra.”  He smiled,
lifting his head from her hands.

Her forehead fell against his
bloodied chest.  “Dezenial,” she sniffed.  “I swear, I’m not going to
cry.  I’m . . . not.”  Tilting her face upward, she offered a weak
smile, garnering comfort from his nearness.

“My blood is now . . . smeared on
your . . . face.”

“War paint.”

His lips captured hers, gentle yet
commanding.  She didn’t question. There wasn’t enough in her to care about
anything but this moment.  For long seconds, their kiss took them away
from the torment their battered bodies suffered.  Her emotions whirled,
her knees trembling.  His tongue tasted ever so slight, teasing for
entrance she willingly granted.  The taste of him sent spirals of ecstasy
through her.  He pulled away.  Both gasped for air.  He nuzzled
her hair, ragged breathing tiptoeing between them.  Her head against his
chest, she studied his arms and wondered how he could possibly be shackled by
mere snakes.  He looked far more powerful than the glistening reptiles
currently coiled ‘round each wrist.

“Keer’dra, one bite and you are
dead within seconds.”

“You aren’t.”

“I am . . . different.  I slip
into unconsciousness.  Can’t . . . leave you.  Careful, or they will
bite you as well.  Even now, they trembled with anticipation.”

“They’re that intelligent?”

In answer, one zipped towards
her.  Screeching, she jumped back.  “You little son of bitch!” 
Her hand shot up, swirling.  The snake thrust again, fierce fangs rearing
to puncture—blue flames erupted from Emily’s palm.  Sizzling serpent
scorched their nostrils.

“Keer’dra?”

Emily spun about.  Sure as
shit, its bastard twin was springing out for her.  Ducking, she scorched
the creature.  The fanged beast would slither nevermore.

“Your temper needs taming.”

“My temper is how I like it. 
I don’t appreciate being snapped at by something better suited as a pair of
boots.”

Sizzling snakes turned the air even
more foul than it had already been.

“How long have you known . . . your
power with flame?”

Emily blew the tip of her
forefinger as if it were a smoking gun.  “An accidental boon.”

Hissing erupted from above. 
Dezenial slipped to his knees, and began rotating his shoulders.  He
pulled Emily down, her nakedness this close to him making his heightened senses
crackle. 

His hands against her bare flesh
caused chills, and an odd sensation at a time like this.  She couldn’t
help staring at his torso. 
Bet my back looks similar
.  Thank
God for torchlight being nearly moot.  She’d be sick if she could see his
wounds any more clearly. 

Hissing frenzied.

“What’s happening?” 
Subconsciously, she huddled closer, absorbing his radiating heat.

“They watch.”

“No kidding.  Can you do
better?”

“How far into your training are
you?”

She dared drop down her gaze to level
with Dezenial’s.  “Urkani seems to think I’m ‘passing fancy’ on knife
throwing, that I suck with bow and arrow, and it will require ‘several
centuries for me to learn even the proper way to handle a sword’.  He
claims I’m better suited for butter knives, then says a bunch of gibberish I’ve
come to suspect is Elvish cursing.”

“I meant, magicks.”

“Oh, magicks and woo-hoo stuff fell
into the category of: Best Keep This From Emily.”

“Fools.”

“Agreed.”

“Is a temper tantrum the only way
you can conjure your magicks?”

“Watch it, or I’ll show you a
tantrum that will make those whips seem like child’s play.”  Fed up, she
rose quickly and howled.  Her torn back ripped more.  She
weaved.  He grasped her calf, steading her. 

“You were a fool to step in front
of a Lumynari’s whip.”

She kept her teeth clenched against
the pain.  “Lecture me later.  How do we get outa here?”

Keys jangled.

Dezenial shot up and shoved Emily
behind him.  She howled, her back slamming against the rocky wall. 
“Keer’dra!”  He had hurt her.  No time for apologies.

Heavy door crashed open. 
Bright orange torchlight flooded their cave-like cell.  Emily squinted,
light bruising her eyes. 

The creature wasn’t tall and
stunning like Lumynaries she’d seen thus far.  He was squat, bulging, and
rumbling threats.  Dezenial remained mute.  He stalked, dwarfing the
ghastly guard.  Gouges on the creature’s face, deep and left to fester,
oozed black gunk.  Emily turned her head, rapidly swallowing back the need
to gag.  She could taste his curdling stench.  From black jerkin, the
rotting beast whipped out a menacing serrated blade.  Making slicing
motions, he crouched, moving along the perimeter of their cell.  Emily was
no fool.  The monster was edging closer and closer towards her! 
Still weak from numerous snakebites, Dezenial jumped back each time their
attacker lunged and swiped.  Gurgling wicked laughter bubbled from the
jailor. 

Emily’s eyes adjusted.  Then
enlarged.  It was none other than the little maggot who had kicked her in
the stomach, rendering her immobile.  Taking advantage of her clawing for
air, he’d dropped down, digging his knee even deeper into her stomach while
another tore and sliced her clothing from her body.  He’d thrown her
prized hiking boots over his shoulder like trophies.

Those were handmade Elvish
boots, you maggot-ass!

Again, he sliced at Dezenial.

Naked, the vile beast had groped
her
.

Dezenial worked his way around,
enticing the guard away from Emily.

He had touched her intimately,
threatening in broken English all sorts of details of what he had planned for
her. He’d beaten her until snatched away by the whip mistress.

He thrashed his blade at Dezenial’s
abdomen.  Her dark hero yelled out and dropped to his knees.  Fury
and fear, a dangerous combination, consumed her.  Dezenial threw her an
odd look, holding his midsection with one hand, warding off his attacker with a
well-aimed fist.  The beast shook his head, thrusting his weapon
downward.  His aim was for Dezenial’s skull.  But the skilled
Lumynari, weak with venom poisoning, torqued backwards on his knees, barely
avoiding the deathblow. 

“You will touch him no
longer.”  Emily’s voice reverberated.

Battling foes forgot each other.
 She’d spoken in their language.

“Keer’dra?” 
Impossible
! 
Enslaved land-dwellers residing down here for decades still spoke the language
so terribly chopped, that many owners forbade them to speak at all. 
Emily’s fluency and cadence was spoken like the child born to it she had once
been.  Dezenial dared a glance down at his torso.  Blood flowed too
quickly.  The last of his strength would be used in healing magicks, or to
save the woman one last time.  If he saved her, he would no doubt fall
unconscious.  She would be unprotected for the duration of his being
incoherent—not that he was currently having any effect in thoroughly protecting
her.  Applying his type of magic could not transpire in front of
her.  She could never know his true identity.  None of them
could.  Irrevocable shock would chase her forever away from him. 
Never mind what his enemies would attempt.  His attention reverted to
her.  Surprise contorted his features.