Vitiosi Dei (Heritage of the Blood Book 2) (43 page)

              He caught sight of movement ahead and managed to catch the tail end of a short human—who he thought must be Stewart Cantel—fighting a Dracairei. This Dracairei and the one he had seen earlier this morning in Verge looked different from the ones he had seen in his vision from the Mage Tyrdra. They were much less reptilian looking and would be more difficult to tell what they were if you just caught a glimpse of them.

              The Dracairei had managed to stick his dagger in the human’s side, but he opened himself up to attack as he did so. Cantel managed to pull one of his short swords with his left hand and rammed it into the assassin's back. After a few moments, he looked around quickly and headed towards a stand of closely grouped trees and put his back to them, pulling out his other sword.

              The man didn’t look like he was doing too well. There were a dozen places all across his body where the clothing was cut and stained crimson. Although the boy knew that some of that blood wasn’t the man’s, enough of it was that it had taken its toll on his body. Not only that, but the man seemed to be having trouble breathing, because he winced slightly every time he took in a breath.

              Moving with more caution than he ever had before, the boy crept along the uppermost tree branches to try to get a view of the fight that Cantel seemed to know was coming. After a dozen long heartbeats, two forms slid out of the bushes and began to stalk towards the lone human.

              “Come on then, which of you wants to join me in death first?” Stewart Cantel asked, his face a mask of determination.

              “Be honored, High Commander—I have never heard of a man killing so many of our kind by himself. Your efforts will be remembered,” one of the Dracairei said with a note of respect in his voice.

              “Yeah, well that implies one of you is going to live to tell the tale,” Cantel replied with a grin.

              The two Dracairei snarled, each holding a pair of daggers as they rushed forward to meet the High Commander of the Protectorate. As they moved forward, each step they took seemed to make them move slower until the point where they were still several steps away from the man and they seemed to be crawling through the air. Looking down, he noticed that the man’s movements were also barely perceptible.

              Suddenly, the action rushed back into full speed and the Dracairei leapt at Stewart Cantel in a flurry of strikes. Cantel held them off well for several seconds, but it was clear who was going to win. The High Commander struck at one, taking him in the thigh, but the other moved in and slit his throat. With a look of surprise, Stewart Cantel slid to the ground in defeat.

             
Remove one of the manacles and we can save him.

              An intense vertigo struck the boy as what he had just seen dissolved in front of him to be replaced by the Dracairei rushing in once again to attack the High Commander. This time the fight lasted a while longer as Stewart Cantel took a more defensive position and used the space to his advantage. He managed to divert one of the assassin's strikes wide and took a shot in the arm from the other Dracairei before impaling the one who had struck him with his short sword. A moment later, the other Dracairei hopped on his back and slit his throat. Once again, the High Commander slid to the ground in defeat.

             
You know what needs to be done.

              Different scenarios played out before his eyes again and again, and in each one the High Commander died; no matter what Stewart Cantel tried, he ended up cold on the ground. In one of the images, he was able to get a killing blow on both of the Dracairei, but in doing so he had taken two daggers and died with them. In only one of the flashes did the High Commander manage to escape the fight alive, and it was the one that scared the boy the most.

              After witnessing the fight a dozen times, the boy blinked and saw the assassins once again moving slowly towards the High Commander. Reaching down he pulled with all of his might and the manacle on his left wrist broke into two parts.
Do it!

              He felt the creature’s excitement as it began to pull in the energy it needed. His perception shifted as his mind connected with the tree he was standing on, and then with the tree next to it, and finally to the third tree in the stand. The first blows of the fight were about to begin when suddenly several tree branches shot forth and impaled the assassins, dragging their bodies towards the trunks of the two outer trees. The trunks of the trees opened wide like a horrible wooden maw and then closed on the bodies of the assassins as the branches placed them inside.

              “What in the nine hells?” Stewart Cantel said as he watched the trees eat his opponents. The High Commander looked all around himself for a moment before finally looking up. Recognition dawned on his face, followed by several other emotions that finally settled back onto determination.

              “Well, shit,” Cantel said as he stared up at the boy. “I should have known you’d show up at the strangest time.” He pointed to the trees that were now oozing with the blood of the Dracairei. “What the hell was that?”

              The boy was surprised to find that the creature released its hold on his mind with a contented sigh after the two assassins were dealt with, and it took him a few moments to form his thoughts into words.

              “That…” the boy said, “…was me saving your life.”

              “Yeah, well thanks, but sorry to disappoint you, but unless you know how to repair a punctured lung and stop that crap they have on their weapons that is making my feet and side all tingly, I think you’ve only prolonged my death for a short while.” The High Commander put his back against the trunk of the tree that hadn’t eaten an assassin and slid down to have a seat.

              Dropping to the ground, the boy picked up the two halves of his manacle and wrapped it back around his arm. A thin light appeared for a moment, and when it died out a line of silver ran from one end of the manacle to the other. He sighed in relief.

              “You mean I went to all that trouble to find you and you are just going to die on me anyway?” the boy asked. “What’s the point of that? Why did Cypheria even tell me to go after you then?”

              Stewart Cantel’s eyes went wide when the boy mentioned Cypheria, but a moment later realization dawned on him. “That clever bitch.”

              “What?”

              “Well, there is a way I might be able to continue helping you even after I’m dead…” Stewart Cantel said as he reached for his pack.

Serenity Valley

              A steady flow of well-dressed students made their way towards one of the larger buildings on campus. He knew that it was usually used as one of the cafeterias on campus. It was close to the girl’s dorms, so that was who used it most, but it could also be used by any of the students who had classes on the eastern end of the campus. This term he hadn’t had any classes near enough to the building to take any of his meals there, and therefore he had yet to be inside.

              “Do they use this building for any classes?” Shawnrik asked as they turned onto the walkway that led to the large double doors at the front of the building.

              “There are some dance classes,” Olivia said. “Ballet, ballroom dancing, that sort of thing.”

              “It is also used for gymnastics,” Syranna said from behind.

              Shawnrik had tried to get the quiet Elf to move up beside Olivia, but she had quietly fallen back behind shortly thereafter.

              “Gymnastics are physical conditioning courses; they require a great amount of strength and agility to be able to perform,” Verrian supplied. He was getting pretty good at knowing when Shawnrik was about to ask what something was.

              “Really?” Shawnrik said. “That sounds interesting.”

              “You should see Syranna do some of her routines, it is pretty impressive,” Rebecca said.

              Syranna made a sound that almost made him think she was strangling for a second, and when he turned around she was bright red.

              “I’d like to see that,” Shawnrik said.

              “There’s an exhibition at the end of each term you could go to,” Vivianne said. Shawnrik couldn’t see her face, but her tone was the same one she used when she found something funny.

              “Stop it, all of you,” Olivia said, gripping Shawnrik’s arm a little tighter. “Didn’t you guys decide that Verrian, Rebecca, and Vivianne should enter first?”

              “Oh, right,” Shawnrik said as he followed Olivia to the side of the trail as they neared the doors.

              “Thanks,” Verrian said, a bead of sweat running down his forehead. Shawnrik knew that his roommate was in good enough condition to not be sweating from the walk across campus, so he knew Verrian was nervous.

              “Don’t worry about it,” Shawnrik said. “We’ll be right behind you.”

              Verrian nodded.

              “Do you want to go in with them Syr?” Olivia asked Syranna.

              “No, I’ll just slip in behind you guys, if that’s ok.”

              “That’s fine,” Olivia said, giving her friend a small smile that seemed almost sad to Shawnrik.

              They entered the building several steps behind Verrian and the girls. Shawnrik had never seen a building like this one. It was kind of like the building that they ate their meals in everyday, but several times larger. Not only that, but instead of a stone floor the flooring looked to be wood that had been waxed to a sheen. There were thousands of students in the massive hall, but it didn’t feel crowded and there was plenty of room to move about still. The stone walls on the inside of the building had been painted with various murals of sprawling vistas that he thought he would like to look at without all of the people in the room.

              When Verrian entered, heads began to turn in his direction as people began to nudge their neighbors. Normal conversation died out, replaced by a dull roar of whispered conversations. Shawnrik was proud of his roommate, who kept his head up and walked into the room like he owned the place. Rebecca and Vivianne moved a little closer to Verrian and smiled brightly as the heads began to turn in their direction.

              Olivia had stopped Shawnrik before the doorway, allowing Verrian and his dates to draw the attention of the room fully before she gave his arm a squeeze and started walking. Her bearing was regal as she began to move forward, and Shawnrik straightened his back and tried be a match to her as much as possible. There was no doubt in his mind that he failed to look anywhere near as magnificent as she did, but he felt he owed her the attempt.

              The whispers that had followed Verrian into the room died out as Shawnrik and Olivia entered. The hateful looks that the men in the room had been throwing the Half-Elf were replaced by wide eyed stares. From the looks on many of their faces Shawnrik, wished he could see their entrance from the perspective of the rest of the students.

              As they moved deeper into the room, a voice broke the silence.

              “Oh look, Aerick’s son has graced us with his presence.”

              Shawnrik knew the voice immediately and turned his head to face the Stroml’dier.

              “I’ve given you a dozen opportunities to talk to me over the last month, and this is where you decide you want to do this?” Shawnrik sighed and moved his body so that he was in between Rigael and Olivia.

              “You come into this school and act all high and mighty,” Rigael said. “Even the Headmistress makes a big deal about it on the first day…”

              “I had no idea she was going to do that.” Shawnrik tried to maintain a calm composure.

              “You aren’t special.” Rigael poked his finger into Shawnrik’s chest as he stepped forward. “Your father wasn’t special either, even if he and the rest of the world thought so.”

              Shawnrik noticed several bulky forms making their way through the crowd behind Rigael as he replied. “I don’t expect anyone to treat me any differently from anyone else. However, I do expect a certain amount of respect.” His fists clenched. “If you want to talk about the differences our fathers had you know where to find me, but we're not talking about it here and now.”