Read The Elder Origins Online

Authors: Bre Faucheux

The Elder Origins (9 page)

8

Madison felt no need to follow him. She only wanted to see Jamison. She
quickly ran to camp with the same speed and urgency she had moments ago, searching each leathery tent. Jayden had built flaps for them and each was held by strong branches that had been stripped of all bark. The work was impressively sturdy. And when she found Jamison’s tent, she was glad to see him resting. His breathing was shallow at best, but he wasn’t in further pain, merely weak. He laid one hand upon his chest as if expecting more vicious coughs to come at any time. She went forth and felt atop his forehead. He was feverish.

“How long do you think before he recovers?” she
asked Jayden, knowing he was behind her without hearing or looking for him. This new sense of emotions was expanding to knowing her surroundings. Jayden’s emotions radiated from him. He was always a powerful presence, but now he was staggering.

“A day, maybe two. I don’t know for certain,” he said solemnly.

“It makes no sense. You and I recovered faster than he has. He is so much stronger than me.”

“I don’t think size or stamina has anything to do with it. It’s a willingness to give into the thirst. He has only
been drinking small sips of the blood I have provided. You and I drank large amounts very quickly.”

“How much did you feed me?” she asked.

“As much as you were willing to take. You only awoke for a few seconds and you were clearly unaware of what was happening. You drank everything I brought you. Jamison hasn’t been so willing.”

She looked back at
him, taking a piece of cloth from the bedding Jamison had created for him. She wiped the sweat from his upper lip and forehead, patting him gently as she went down his neck and across his hair line.

“Against his moral principles I suppose, drinking from the living.”

“Then bring it from the dead. Tell him it is of our lost crewmen,” she said with urgency.

Jayden shook his head. “Do not ever drink the blood of a dead body. I promise you, it is revolting. There must still be life in it.”

“Then I can understand his unwillingness,” she responded.

“Can you? You drank from the living quite willingly.”

“But I don’t remember it. I didn’t know what I was doing. Even when I apparently attacked that native man and the crewman, I wasn’t aware of what I was doing. I was-”

“Obeying another power?” he interrupted her.

Jayden’s arms were crossed as he leaned into the log holding the foundation of the newly built tent. His face was almost arrogant now.

“You see now? You gave into it. You obeyed it.”

She stood up, refusing to look at him. “Perhaps he will drink it if I bring it to him. If he knows the next time he wakes that I am well and living, he might be persuaded to drink it,” she said.

“Perhaps,” he said.

“Have others recovered as you and I have?”

“No, just you and myself. They will need more blood. You consumed the entirety of a native man’s blood and then some. Your brother and the two others will need to do the same.”

“I consumed an entire man?”

“Slowly, yes. I fed his blood to you,” he said staring at her.

Madison looked at Jamison. If they had been guided here as Jamison had said, then perhaps he was meant to drink the blood he seemed to resist. She knew she would have to make the decision for him, as he clearly didn’t know what was at stake. He looked as though he were still dying from the illness as he lay before her.

“You really want to stand there and decide whether or not those natives who wanted to watch us all die
are worth killing?” said Jayden, his voice growing louder and angrier yet again. “Let me ask you this, dear Madison. Are their lives worth your brother’s? Do you think he would hesitate to make that choice for you?”

“I hope he never has to make such a choice,” she said spitefully.

“No, the choice is in your hands. I am going to their settlement again tonight. I will bring more back here for us to feed on so the other men can grow stronger. And I
will
continue to offer Jamison his life back.”

“I can’t see how it ma
tters to you.” She walked over to face him. Her malice for what he had done reaped through her aura and penetrated his senses.

“It doesn’t matter to me. I only offer because I know it matters to you. The choice is yours. I will have fresh bodies here by dawn.” With that he lifted the flap behind him and left the tent.

How could anything that mattered to me be any concern of his?

Then she felt it. A crushing sense of dish
eartenment, and again, it wasn’t her emotions. He knew that this was inhuman. But he also thought it necessary. He knew the natives had led to their downfall, and yet Jayden was not completely at ease with taking their lives. Then it was quickly overtaken by a sense of righteousness. The guilt was completely overshadowed. He felt that they did not deserve to live for what they had done.

She wasn’t certain if she didn’
t agree with him.

Jayden’s emotions were fleeting. As soon as they came, they left. He was numb again.

She watched as he went by horse to the woods and slowly disappeared in the distance. Once he was gone, it started again. She wanted more. Her thirst was growing. Slower than before, but it was there. Jayden had left a jug of blood on the ground to the entrance of the tent. She quickly took it in her hands and drank from it. Her insides churned and growled for what was left inside the jug. But she resisted with everything she had.

  She knew Jamison needed it more than she did, although it already tasted old.

Madison found it ironic, that after so many years of Jamison having cared for her, she was now charged with his well-being. And in his hour of need, she had decided that her only duty was to make sure that he survived. He had forced her survival through times they were not meant to challenge or perhaps even live through, yet they both persevered. And it was only due to Jamison’s determination. So she resolved to do the same for him. She would sit with him until he had consumed all he needed to.

As if he had sensed wh
at she was thinking, she saw Jamison’s mouth form into a smile. She hoped that he understood what he would needed to do, and that he would be willing to drink from the jug in her hands once it was brought to her. And above all, she hoped that with all that had befallen them, that he would value his own life above those whom Jayden had been hunting. If the natives were so eager to watch them die, then perhaps it was only right that they would sustain their own outcome.

Jamison didn’
t stir until night fell. And when he did, it was with violent force. He jutted awake and sat up far too quickly. His head became disoriented and he fell back to the bedding. She caught his head from beneath to slow his descent and placed him softly on the makeshift pillow.

He looked up at her and whispered her name.
“Madison?”

“Yes, I’m here.” She took his hand so he would kn
ow it wasn’t a dream. She applied gentle pressure and held his hand without hers.

“You will
be alright,” she said.

“You have
recovered?”

“Yes, completely,” she replied.

“How?”

“Jayden took care of me. He fed me when I was barely awake.
You need to drink more. You must to gain your strength.”

“He has cared for me as well, and the others. But I know not what he is giving us. I don’t recognize it.”

“No matter, it is food. It will restore you,” she said. She was relieved that he wasn’t rejecting the blood from opposition to what Jayden was doing. He was far too weak to know what was going on in the tent, let alone what was happening outside.

“He will return with more by dawn,” she stated.

“Why is he hunting at night? The natives could be nearby,” he said.

Madison knew it was better to lie. She could atone for it later. His well-being was more important that the truth, she decided, regardless of how high he ranked morality above all else.

“Jayden thinks this mixture he has created will help us to heal faster. Lyndon and the remaining crewman are still too weak to consume meat,” she said.

Jamison
was in the same state she didn’t remember being in. The weakness was the only thing his body catered to, and his eyes moved about rapidly, trying to find her. He closed them slowly, allowing her to pat away the sweat that was still dripping down his forehead. He was asleep within seconds. She sat on the other end of the tent for most of the night. She wondered how the other men were doing. She even considered going to their tents and seeing how they fared. But she remained close to Jamison. Her duty was to him right now. And when the time came, she would force him to drink the blood he required to survive. Better he not know until later.

He would do the same for me.
He would place my survival above all else. He already has, several times.

Jayden was true to his word and came forth
in a matter of hours. He had clearly stolen new horses from the natives as he rode one and led two others with three bodies strayed across their backs. She hoped that they would stay alive long enough to feed her brother. And yet, as soon as the thought entered her mind, she regretted it. She couldn’t rejoice in what Jayden was doing.

He carted each over his shoulder and tossed them not so gently to the ground. Taking an arrow that no doubt belonged to one of the men, he slit the wrist of one and dripped his blood into the jug that lay near the fire. He then continued with the other until the man was near death. Madison watched from outside the tent as Jayden took each man’s wrist, sliced it, and then squeezed it tight to drain what he could. Only a week
prior the scene before her would have made her ill. The very sight of blood forced memories of the French having attacked her village. The brutality of what Jayden did before her struck her now not with disgust, but awe. She wanted to feel for the men who lay there dying, but having lost her own to what Jayden suspected they had done, she could no longer allow herself to feel pity for them.

Jayden
went to Jamison’s tent first, and handed the bottle directly to Madison. His presence consumed her senses once he was within feet of her. He wasn’t proud of his accomplishment as she imagined he would be. Nor did he feel guilt or remorse any longer. It was simply a direct reflection of what he felt needed to be done. Determination to live; that was the only emotion she could identify. He was determined to give her brother his life back.

He took the other jug from around
his shoulder and walked toward the next tent. She could only assume it was Lyndon’s, as he was their leader. Although she wondered if Jayden would insist upon having that position himself. Having sustained all their lives, she would heartily accept that he had earned it.

Madison walked i
nside the tent and knelt down to her brother. Surprisingly, he awoke almost instantly. His eyes jutted open and gazed at her with intensity.

“What is that smell?” he said.

“It’s a drink that Jayden has made for us. It will revive you,” she said, continuing her lie from before. She only wanted him to know that there was hope to live, not that this life came from death. She took the jug and leaned it downward to his mouth, and he drank it eagerly, swallowing in large quantities.  She wanted to ask him how it tasted. If anything, just to assure him that it was good for him. But he continued taking from the jug. He barely breathed and his coughing didn’t resurface, not even after he had consumed the entire jug.

She took t
he empty bottle and placed it on the ground. Blood dripped from his chin down his neck and she reached to wipe it off. Before her hand touched his skin, he took it. She grinned noting the he was able to move better.

“What was that, Madison?”

“Something Jayden made. It helped me to recover,” she answered.

“From what did he make it?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know for certain.”

“I’ve tasted it before,” he said.

“Jayden has been trying to feed it to you for days. He said you were too weak to take much.”

“No, before I got sick. I tasted it. It tastes like…” he stopped and his eyes penetrated hers.

“What?” She dreaded his answer. But she would insist on his continued taking of the substance regardless of whether he approved.

“It tastes of life. Of every desire or impulse I have ever had.”

She was silent, fearing that he would recognize it. “Perhaps that means it is helping you.”

“I have had it before… before all of this. I know I did.”

She stared at him, not knowing how that was possible.

His eyes shuttered at the realization.
“What did you do?” he demanded.

“I did nothing. Jayden prepared it for us.”

“Jayden? How long has he been killing them?” he said, his voice growing louder. She couldn’t respond. She only looked at him, watching as his eyes began to take on a brighter shade of violet, growing slightly stronger as his suspicion surmounted. “He is, isn’t he? He is killing them,” he said. She thought it would be better to try and revitalize his memory.

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