Chaosmage (30 page)

Zannah picked up a loose stone and flicked it across the water. It hit a small patch of ice, cracking it, and immediately sank into the water. The hard exterior was thinner and more fragile than it looked.

“Because you were running away from what needed to be done. From what people wanted you to be.”

“That's part of it,” admitted Alyssa. “They needed someone to be strong for them. To show them the way. I thought they wanted my advice, but really they wanted the illusion of order. I have no power, no authority, but asking permission gave them comfort and I was shying away from that. I was selfish and I nearly died before I realised that.”

Zannah looked at her askance. “You do more than that for them.”

“I don't understand.”

The Morrin was quiet for a while and Alyssa could see she was trying to find the right words. This was probably the most she'd spoken in weeks. They used to talk a lot more when it was just the two of them guarding the wall late into the night.

“For your people, hope used to be a good thing, like their faith. It brought them comfort and a promise that tomorrow would be better. They went through the war and the camps, and then they were left alone in a dying city. This place strips away all the fat and gristle, leaving behind only skin and bone. It eats away your dreams, your future and finally your hope. Many of your people were just waiting to die.”

“And now?”

Zannah's laugh was both unexpected and slightly terrifying. In all their time together Alyssa had never heard her laugh in such a way. “Do you really not know? Do you not see?”

Alyssa shook her head. “Know what?”

“You give them hope for the future.”

“It's not just me,” said Alyssa, gripping one of Zannah's hands with both of hers. “We light torches every night, but you're the one who drives back the darkness. You've saved countless lives and you helped them find their courage.”

“They hate me.”

“They need you and would be dead without you.”

“I bring death. That's my only gift.”

“Now who's being blind?” Zannah tried to pull her hand away but Alyssa held on more tightly. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Name it.” Zannah didn't hesitate, not even for a second, which only made Alyssa love her more.

“I need you to stop taking risks.” Zannah tried to move away but Alyssa persisted and squeezed her hand. “I won't let you go. Not without a fight.”

Alyssa knew that Zannah thought her fate was to die fighting to protect people who hated her. Everything she'd done since the war was part of her penance, but in her mind redemption was for other people.

“My people will never forgive the Morrin for what they did during the war. I don't think they know how,” said Alyssa. “But I forgive you. I forgive you, Zannah.”

At first she didn't think the Morrin had heard her, as she didn't react. After a long silence she withdrew her hand and this time Alyssa let go.

Then Zannah started to shake, hugging herself with both arms, and began to cry. Loud wracking sobs erupted from her throat, making her whole body tremble.

Alyssa held Zannah to her chest, as tears ran down both their faces, and she waited for the storm to pass.

F
or the last two days Tammy had been methodically searching the Dureen district of the city for signs of the Forsaken. She had used logic and common sense in an attempt to find some clues as to where they hid during the day. Given their numbers there had to be some physical signs of their passage, but so far her efforts had produced nothing. She'd previously started with the largest buildings as the most obvious hiding places. Once those had been cleared she moved to a systematic sweep, street by street, and still there was nothing. Not one body or drop of blood. Nothing.

Now, with seven nervous mercenaries walking behind her, Tammy was leading them through the area, relying only on her instincts.

Right now they were screaming at her to turn around and run in the opposite direction. There was something else. Judging from how closely they were watching the streets she knew the mercenaries could feel it too. A tingle along the spine as if they were being watched. But there were no faces observing them from empty windows. No scuttling sounds or the patter of footsteps on stone. Not even a flicker of movement
half
-
seen
from eye corners, because there was nothing to see or hear.

The city echoed with a silence as deep and profound as the grave. Maybe that's what the chill was. The absence of life and the flutter of restless spirits on the edges of her perception. Maybe hordes of the dead watched them even now. The streets could be choked with people, but they were the only ones who were still alive.

“Do you know where we're going?” asked Kovac.

Tammy didn't realise she'd stopped at a crossroads until he spoke. The others were looking at her expectantly while keeping one eye on the surrounding buildings. Instead of answering she picked a direction at random and set off.

She'd been delaying the inevitable. Hoping that somehow she'd find the Forsaken by chance, despite their previous lack of success. Probing her reasoning more deeply Tammy realised she was afraid of what might happen.

“Kovac.” She gestured for him to follow her into the nearest building. The others spread out and took up positions without being asked, watching all directions. As she stepped into the front room Tammy saw it had once been a clothing shop. Racks of shirts, dresses and brightly coloured scarves were crowded on racks and shelves. None of them were covered in cobwebs and not one had been chewed through by moths. If not for the fine layer of dust it might seem as if the owner had just stepped out the back door.

“They're hiding in here?” asked Kovac, raising an eyebrow at the small building.

“I'm going to try something to find the Forsaken. It might be dangerous,” said Tammy.

“How dangerous?”

“Do you remember what happened during the fight with Grennig?” she asked and Kovac nodded. “I lost control. I can blame whatever has infested this city for some of it, but part of that darkness came from inside me. There are things in my past I've tried to forget and make up for. This place dredges it all to the surface.”

“We all have regrets.” Kovac looked into the distance and she saw something familiar touch his weathered features. Sorrow and remorse. Tammy couldn't help asking about it. The Guardian in her just wanted to know.

“What did you do?”

Kovac's laugh was bitter. “Trusted the wrong man, and here I am, living as a king, drowning in riches.” He gestured at their barren surroundings and then dropped his hands.

The more time she spent with him the more she realised he wasn't a typical mercenary. Now wasn't the time to ask for more details but she knew he was carrying a heavy burden of guilt. There was a lot more to him than his rugged appearance.

“Balfruss had an idea about how to find the Forsaken.” Kovac looked uncomfortable when she mentioned the Sorcerer's name. She'd seen how all of the mercenaries glanced at him when he wasn't looking. Mercenaries weren't known for being polite and
good
-
mannered
, but not one of them had said so much as a harsh word to anyone in the camp since their arrival. Tammy wondered how much of it was due to the Sorcerer's presence rather than Alyssa's promise of repercussions.

“You can do magic?” said Kovac.

“No, it's difficult to explain. I need you to do something for me.”

“What is it?”

“If I start to lose control, I want you to stop me before I hurt anyone.” Tammy knew she was being vague, but explaining it would just cause another delay and her nerve was already wavering. Kovac might try to talk her out of it and then she would have an excuse not to try.

To her surprise Kovac didn't ask for more details.

“I'll try,” was all he said.

“Promise me.”

“I can't,” said Kovac. “You're damn strong and I've seen you fight with that,” he said, gesturing at her sword. “I'd be lying if I said I could beat you by myself.”

“Then just try your best,” she said. “Give me a minute and I'll be out.”

Closing her eyes Tammy focused on her breathing and tried to empty her mind. Years of training in the Watch and then the Guardians had taught her how to control her emotions, but since coming to Voechenka it had proven difficult. Now, instead of holding them at bay, she began to let all of her strongest emotions come to the surface.

Tammy turned her thoughts back in time, focusing on her bloody days as an enforcer and fighter. Once again she heard the cracking of bones, the popping of joints and the screams as she twisted flesh beneath her hands. The wet smacking of fists on flesh. The baying of the crowd as it screamed for blood and the addictive rush of adrenaline as her opponent fell to the ground. Reaching down into herself she tried to peel back her
self
-
control
and shrug off the chains of morality and ethics.

Buried, deep inside, was her primal self. As strong urges started to fill her mind Tammy tried to hold on to them and not let them control her. Normally such a struggle wouldn't be necessary, but she could feel something in the air calling to her to just let go. To draw her sword and kill the first person she saw. To bathe in their blood. To run wild through the streets howling at the sky. The urge was so strong she had partly drawn her sword before she realised and quickly shoved it back.

Stumbling out the door Tammy felt as if she were teetering on a tightrope. She felt drunk and hungry, horny and angry, as the urge to kill swelled in her chest.

Someone slapped her across the face and she turned, snarling at the man dressed in grey furs. Tammy could see he was talking but the words just didn't make any sense. She could smell his fear and see the concern on his face, but his name evaded her. There were others close by, staring at her, and all of them were armed for a fight. The odds did not look good but she would make them bleed.

“Tammy!” screamed the man. The word, her name, penetrated the fog in her mind. She felt his hand on her chin and started to pull away, but then another stronger urge started to overwhelm her at his touch. Tammy pulled him tight against her, forcing him onto his toes so that she could kiss him. A growl started deep in her throat as she tasted him and felt his body start to respond. When she grabbed his crotch the man stumbled back,
wide
-
eyed
and confused. He wanted to play. Well, she could play.

“The Forsaken,” he jabbered and something shifted at the back of her mind. She was supposed to be doing something. “Where are the Forsaken?” he said.

Tammy felt the darkness recede for a second and she managed to regain control, but it was tenuous. She felt as if she were barely holding on.

Balfruss had been right. Something in the city rejoiced at everything that she'd done and she knew it wanted more. It wanted her.

Turning slowly in a circle she tried to concentrate on the city rather than the emotions within. The streets echoed with violence and the whisper of spirits, but there was a strong and familiar pulse from something still alive. It called to her with a siren song, telling her to walk blindly into the dark and embrace the primitive version of herself.

“This way,” she said, moving at a jog. She hoped the others would follow and that she could stop it overwhelming her again. The closer she came to the source the stronger the urges became. Tammy had to fight her own body not to draw her sword and kill everyone. Another part of her mind told her to tear off Kovac's clothes, shove him to the ground and mount him. The images of sex and violence were so powerful her breathing became loud and ragged. With every step she had to fight her own nature and repress the animal inside.

Stumbling along, forced to pause from time to time to centre herself, Tammy led the mercenaries across the city. It felt as if the struggle had been going on for hours by the time she found the church. It wasn't large but even a cursory glance showed it was considerably older than the surrounding buildings. The doors had been ripped off, allowing her to stagger inside and collapse on all fours.

Kovac started to move towards her but she waved him back, sitting on her haunches. She couldn't bear for anyone to get too close in case of what she might do to them. There was a fire raging inside. It surged along her veins and beat in time with her heart. The echo of that madness and thirst for violence had drawn her to this place.

Closing her eyes Tammy tried to repress everything she'd dug up inside, but images of the past flashed before her mind's eye. Instead she looked around the church for a distraction. The pews had been taken away and probably burned, along with any tables or chairs. All that remained was a huge stone table at the far end of the room, a heavy metal bench and a pile of mouldy cushions stacked in a corner. The stone floor was built from a mosaic of tiny red and white tiles, but kneeling so close to them she couldn't see a pattern.

Weak winter sunlight poured in through the windows and Tammy felt faint warmth on her face. Turning towards the light she stared up at the
stained
-
glass
windows which somehow remained intact. This was an old church of the Maker. One window showed him labouring beside the First Men in the fields, planting a row of tall crops. The First Men were supposed to be massive beings, but still He towered over them as if they were young children. The expression on His face was one of benevolence and yet she thought it was tinged with sorrow, as if He could foresee the many horrors the tribes would commit against each other in the future. He had created and raised them, teaching them about love and compassion, and yet they had still killed their neighbours. Out of greed, out of jealousy, out of fear.

In the next window a man stood with a flaming torch, bold and defiant against the dark while the Maker looked on with pride. Each window showed a miracle where He had given the people a gift to help them live and grow.

Tammy didn't believe in the Maker or the Blessed Mother. Everything she'd ever accomplished had been because of her own perseverance and determination. She owed her success to no one and equally there was no one to blame for her failures. She was responsible for it all and was not about to give up now.

Digging deep within herself again she faced everything she'd done head on. All of the lives she'd taken. All of the families she'd ruined. All of the pain and heartache she'd caused. But not all of it had been bad. With the unpleasant memories came others. Lives she'd saved as a Guardian. Families reunited and justice meted out. The scales might not be balanced yet but she was moving in the right direction. Whatever controlled the Forsaken, it had nothing new to show her that she'd not thought about by herself. It did not control her. She knew her own worth.

Tammy stood up and looked around at the church with fresh eyes. The mercenaries were still wary, Kovac most of all, but she tried to appease him with a smile.

“It's all right. I'm in control again.”

He didn't look convinced but slowly edged into the church. Three stayed outside to watch the street, while the others helped her search the room.

“What are we looking for?” asked the tall mercenary, the one they called the Prince.

“I don't know but the Forsaken were definitely here.” Tammy was certain. She could still feel a faint echo of their presence as if someone were running a finger across her scalp.

A search of the main hall revealed nothing so they moved to the back. A few rooms had been used for storage and living quarters for the priests. Two rooms had metal doors and the rest were missing, which Tammy assumed meant they had been made of wood and carried away. Both of the remaining doors were locked and the dents and scratches showed people had unsuccessfully tried to break them down several times.

“Give me a minute,” said one of the sisters. Kovac had told her their names, Teela and Teeva, but Tammy couldn't tell them apart. One knelt by the lock and took out a set of picks while the other held her sister's sword. “Someone's made a mess of this,” she tutted, probing the lock with several long metal pins. After another minute there was a loud click that seemed to echo very loudly in the short corridor.