Elemental Betrayal Read online

  So far, they had stayed away from any settlements. This was the first time that they had gotten so close to a city. Thala Yll was large, spread over a wide area with outlying homesteads all around the city. To hunt there would be easy for the Vampyres. He growled and picked up the pace. He wished he could use his shadow travel, but he was afraid he would lose their scent, or they would change direction.

  As it started to get dark, he emerged from the forest into the more open plain to the west of Grildor-Bron Forest. The area was still home to small woodlands and freestanding trees, but most of it was prime grazing land for the animals the people of Thala Yll bred. This made it easier for him to follow the trail of the three Vampyres that had so far managed to outrun him. He increased his speed, savouring the freedom to run unchecked and only paused once, briefly, to sniff at a dead heifer. Its blood had been drained in a hurry, but no meat had been taken. They were hungry; he knew they had not fed for five days. The blood would keep them going until they found something more substantial to eat. He followed their trail all night. They were weaving across the grazing land, killing as they ran, always just drinking the blood. They were closing in on Thala Yll carefully, not taking any chances, but Blaid assumed that their ultimate goal was to attack there.

  He had spent the last six Moons tracking Vampyres. No-one knew for sure how many of them had escaped the war, but from what he had learned, at least a thousand had left the battle before it had finished and had joined up with smaller forces stationed all over Grildor. He had so far exterminated three of such groups; a total number of fifty-seven Vampyres. They were clever and hard to kill and he had hardly had any rest since the war. These three he was following now, were his biggest challenge yet; they were of the other kind of Vampyre. If he remembered correctly, Lord Longshadow had called them Generals. The common Vampyres were about as tall as an Elf, were thin and wiry, with skin stretched tight over their angular bones. Their mouths seemed to protrude somewhat, making their fangs more noticeable. The Generals on the other hand were taller, more muscular, and less grotesque. He assumed that on Naylera, these would probably be described as handsome. They were also a lot more intelligent.

  He faltered in his stride for just a moment at the thought of Maia’s father. Anger surged through his veins and he then lengthened his stride even more. The Vampyres needed to be killed; that was his job, which is what he needed to concentrate on. They were the threat and it needed to be eliminated.

  By morning, the city came into view. During the night, he had lost the spoor for a while; they had gone into a river and it had taken him over an hour of running up and down the banks before he picked up their spoor again. By the time he had caught up with them, they had entered the waters of a lake on the outskirts of the city. He now sat at the place where they had entered the water. Vampyres could breathe, but they did not need to very often. The air on their volcanic planet was such, that it could be toxic in large quantities. Their bodies were designed to live without breathing for a very long time. He believed this to be at least two or three days, before they actually had to take a breath. Here on Elveron, with the air quality such as it was, he had learned that they could go five or six days without breathing, if they had to.

  The lake was not very large; he could see the opposite shore; but it was wedged between some hills and was surrounded by trees. It was possible that the Vampyres could exit the lake unseen. He sat watching the lake for another short while, then decided that it might be wiser to circle the lake and wait on the opposite shore, closer to the city.

  By noon, he had found himself a shady oak to lie beneath. The cattle that grazed on the fields here had gotten used to him by now and were contently grazing on the new spring grass. He was using the cattle, as much as his own senses, to look out for the Vampyres. Should he miss them, then the cattle would sound the alarm when the Vampyres got too near. Moreover, he desperately needed the rest; they had been on the run for days, never sleeping. Sleeping seemed to be another thing Vampyres very seldom did. He loathed them more and more each day.

  Suddenly he looked up, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. The herd carried on grazing; nothing had disturbed them. Nevertheless, something had alerted him and he scanned the surrounding countryside. After a while, he rose and started pacing along the water’s edge. The feeling that something was wrong was getting stronger, but he could find no physical evidence of the Vampyres having left the lake.

  He was getting agitated, anger building within his chest, when he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks; something was making him tense with anticipation. He smelled the air, but could barely pick up the scent. He looked towards the city, but could not see anything. His body started to tremble. She was here! He could sense it deep within his being. Excitement and panic warred within him. He so desperately wanted to see her, feel her, smell her. But if he let those Vampyres slip through his clutches, then that could endanger not just the people of Thala Yll, but Maia as well.

  He growled his indecision at the lake. The thick, black fur around his neck bristled and the cattle around him startled, running away from him. Frustrated, he let out a short howl and then turned towards the city. He stayed in his wolf form, staying away from the roads and the Herd Keepers, and always scanning the ground and surroundings for any signs of the Vampyres.

  It was dusk when he reached the city. Now that he was so close, he could pick up her scent along the road. It was faint, but it made his blood turn to lava in his veins. He slunk around the houses, keeping to the shadows; he could not afford to be seen.

  He had traced her scent first down the main road of the city to their Grand Hall. From there she had been taken to a guesthouse. There had been some comings and goings during the early evening, but Blaid did not know any of them. At one point, a man of the Guard he recognised from the battlefield emerged from the house and had a brief word with a man dressed in the colours of the Regiment. For reasons he could not fathom, the Guard made him feel like he wanted to rip his throat out. He shook his head again in frustration; the wolf was taking over, he would really have to spend more time in his own body.

  As the evening progressed, the lights within Thala House were dimmed and the streets emptied. He noticed a small light through one of the windows on the ground floor of the guesthouse and, making sure that no-one was in sight, made the change to his own body. He stood there for a moment, shivering in his nakedness, until he got used to standing on two legs. Then he went over to the window to peer inside.

  His heart nearly stopped. She was sitting at a small table, the light from the candle playing with the colours of her hair. She was dressed all in black; travelling clothes, he presumed; the leather hugging her figure to perfection, showing off her perfect form. She was beautiful.

  He gritted his teeth as he watched the Guard he had seen earlier pour her another glass of wine. Maia! He thought, trying to push the mental call to her. He watched her blush at the Guard’s words.

  Suddenly his senses picked up a strange sound. He narrowed his eyes and listened. Then his Elemental senses took over and within moments, he was back in wolf form, tracking the scent of the Vampyres as they stalked through the city. The information he gathered from their scent was that they had only just arrived and had not killed yet.

  He hurried to catch up with them, but they had now realised he was after them. He was darting between houses when they split up; two went left and one went right. He hesitated only for a moment and followed the two that had gone left, down a narrow passage between two inter-connected houses. Their scent was strong in his nose and his blood was boiling. Snarling, saliva drooling from his canines, he eventually cornered them in an enclosed yard. The Vampyres turned on him, hissing, exposing their fangs, and drawing their weapons. The blades glinted dully in the light of the moons, but Blaid knew they were sharp and the Generals wielded them with deadly proficiency.

  He stood before them, blocking their way out, his fur bristling along his back and neck. For a moment, th
ey stood like that, facing each other, then they attacked. Blades whistled past his ears as he ducked the initial onslaught; then it was his turn. With violent savagery, he bit into the neck of the Vampyre closest to him. He tore his entire throat out before he had the chance to scream. Another bite and the head flew off, spraying blood in all directions. He felt the air move close to his back as the sword of the other Vampyre passed close to his fur. Furiously he turned, took one leap, and then severed the Vampyres head with one bite. He was Death.

  Panting, he stood for a moment, the rancid taste of their blood in his mouth. Seeing Maia with the Guard had upset him. The Vampyres had paid the price for it. He would have to get rid of these bodies before they were found, but he still had one more to kill. He left the courtyard and retraced his steps. Soon he came upon the place where they had separated. He followed the other trail. It wound between some houses, over fences and finally through a small fountain; probably to diffuse the trail. He was careful now, expecting an ambush. Padding softly over the cobblestones he moved off into a section of the city that did not have as many houses. There were some shops, warehouses, and barns. The smell of wares, such as tea, fruit, vegetables, cured meat, as well as some small livestock and horses was strong here. The Vampyre probably hoped to throw him off his scent. He narrowed his eyes and blocked out all other smells, concentrating on his prey. He was so close now; he could feel it.

  “Princess Maia likes to see to her own horse. Did you see him? He is a magnificent animal.”

  Blaid turned at the woman’s voice. She was standing in front of the doors of what looked like stables. She had startling red hair and was speaking to an Elf dressed in Horse Master uniform.

  “Yes, he sure is,” the man answered. “How long do you think her Ladyship will be?”

  Blaid did not wait for the answer. If Maia was indeed inside the stables, then the Vampyre had to die now. He could not risk her leaving the stable with the Vampyre still left alive. He put his nose to the ground and resumed the hunt. He was not treading softly anymore or trying not to be seen. It did not matter any more. Maia! He thought frantically and raced past yet another barn. With a screech that set his nerves on edge the Vampyre jumped off the roof and landed on his back. He let out a howl and then snarled and growled while trying to dislodge the vile being from his back. The creature hung on; one hand holding on to the hairs on his left shoulder, its fangs sunk deep into the thick fur by his neck, but unable to penetrate to the skin and its right hand reaching for its blade. Blaid turned wildly, rolling, slamming into the walls of the buildings, but all to no avail; the Vampyre hung on. Then he heard the rasp of the blade coming out of its sheath. He felt the Vampyre raise his arm to deal the blow. Out of options, Blaid quickly transformed, effectively dislodging the Vampyre from his back. He turned and in one swift motion reached for the Vampyre’s sword and used it to slice his throat. He was Death.

  Changing back into his wolf form, he traced his steps back to the stables. As he trotted around the last corner, he saw the woman and the Horse Master walking towards him, no doubt having heard the commotion. Quickly he turned, but it was too late.

  “There! Did you see? I told you I heard a wolf. Do they often come into the city?”

  “We do get them sometimes. They raid the chicken coops.”

  Blaid heard no more. He was out of sight within moments and left to finish his night’s work.

  “That one is Jaggertooth,” Evan said, his sky-blue eyes sparkling with pride. “He was born ten summers ago and will start his training this year. He is one of Silverwing’s hatchlings.”

  Silverwing, Maia knew, was Evandeor’s personal dragon, the one he had ridden during the war. Silverwing had received an injury when he was a hatchling, severely damaging his left wing. Evan had nursed him back to health, even though most had given up on the little dragon. However, none of the flight muscles had been injured so, with love and patience, Evan had made him whole again. The wound had healed and had left a silver scar that contrasted starkly with the mud-brown colour of the dragon’s hide.

  The dragons of Thala Yll were Plains Dragons or Dragono Captivaris in the old language. They were stocky and hardy creatures, built for strength and stamina, rather than speed. They were intelligent, brave, and loyal to the death. Even though they were hardly anything to look at compared to the beauty of Midnight, she thought they were beautiful. There was just something about dragons that excited her and she could spend hours in their company.

  The roosts were kept a few miles from the city, on a section of mountain that poked out of the edge of Grildor-Bron Forest. It was a strange rock formation; tall, spiky turrets, gullies, ledges, and holes. Evan said that once a river must have run through there to create the formation, but it was so long ago that it was not even mentioned in their histories. The dragons perched all over these formations; sleeping, preening, eating. They were not tethered and were free to come and go as they pleased, but they were fed every day, as they were forbidden to hunt in the fields.

  Maia had been introduced to some of the Dragon Handlers when they arrived that morning and had then been taken to see the roosts. The dragons had clamoured to get closer; hopping from one perch to another, shoving each other, biting; sensing her nearness and knowing who she was. The cacophony of clacking and screeching was almost overwhelming. The Handlers had tried very hard to restore order, but it was Maia who had to step in at the end.

  Knowing that Midnight was close, she had sent him a mental plea and almost immediately, the dragons settled down. She was unsure exactly how Midnight communicated with the other dragons, but they were calmer and quiet. They still shoved each other from time to time, clamouring for her attention and she made sure that she went to touch every one of them.

  “You really do have a touch for dragons,” Evan had said, brushing his light brown hair back from his face.

  After they had seen the roosts, Evan had taken her to where they were now; the hatchling paddocks. They were further into the forest, away from the adults. Strange structures had been erected between trees and rocks and hatchlings were climbing all over them, honing their skills and strength and testing their wing muscles.

  “We still fly patrols every night, watching over the herds,” Evan said to them.

  Riker stood close to Maia, leaning on a railing, watching the hatchlings. Rothea, two other members of the Regiment and a Scout had also accompanied them, but it was only Rothea and Lagoras, the Scout, who were with them at the hatchling paddocks, as the others were about half a mile down the road, holding the horses.

  “Vampyre activity in the area has been minimal until fairly recently. Two Moons ago one of the Herders was found dead. The ravens had been at him, so it was difficult to tell how he died. Since then we had three other attacks, all with casualties.”

  Evan was silent for a moment. Maia sensed his grief and she laid a hand on his.

  “Last night, and the night before, some of our livestock were killed. They were classic Vampyre kills, bite marks and no blood. They did not take the meat. No-one knows where the Vampyres went. They might still be in the vicinity. Also, the Herders say that a wolf came to investigate the kills, but did not touch the meat. He probably ran off when he saw the Vampyres.”

  “We saw a wolf in the city last night,” Rothea added to the conversation.

  “In the city?” Evan asked.

  “Yes. Lady Maia wanted to see to her stallion, so we went to the stables. While her Ladyship was inside, we heard a howl, growling and what sounded like a scuffle. When we went to investigate, we almost ran into the beast. When he saw us, he fled. We looked around for him, but he was gone. Elgar, the Horse Master on duty last night, reported it to the Guard this morning.”

  “These are strange happenings indeed. Night Watch has been doubled since you arrived, Lady Maia, and yet these things occur right under our noses. Some of my best men were flying patrols these past few nights and they reported no sightings. These are dangerous times we live in.�
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  Maia bit her lip. She had to hold on to the railing in front of her to stop her hands from shaking. Just when she thought things might be going better, the guilt hit her with renewed force. Why had she not been able to read her dreams, teamed up with Blaid sooner, stopped the war before it began? She just could not shake the feeling that it could have been prevented, but for her ineptitude. And now she also felt that her presence here had brought more danger to these people.

  “My Lady,” Riker whispered in her ear and laid his arm across her shoulder.

  She briefly looked up at him, his dark eyes full of concern, and then, without thinking, she turned within his arms and clung to his chest, seeking the safety of his embrace.

  Evan and Rothea stopped talking and after a short moment turned away from them, slowly walking away.

  Somewhere deep in the forest Midnight felt her emotions and reached out with his mind. Quickly he assessed the situation and then sent her images of calm, blue waters, as well as his strong approval. Maia wondered at first why Midnight would have chosen such images to calm her, or why he would approve. But as she relaxed into Riker’s strong embrace, calm settled over her and she realised that the images meant. Calm-Blue-Waters is Riker, she sent the thought to Midnight. She felt his mental nod.

  She stood with Riker for a moment longer, unwilling to let go of the feeling of safety. What Midnight had shown her was all too possible and too easy to accomplish. The thought frightened her. Could she just walk away from her experiences with Blaid and into the arms of another? Was she even sure she would never see him again? She trusted her dragon and if Midnight thought that highly of Riker, then maybe it was time Maia took a closer look at him. She took one last, deep breath, savouring his smell, before she let go of him. He let her go only reluctantly and held onto her hand for a moment longer. The depth of feeling she saw in his eyes startled her. She did not have to open herself to his Eläm to know what he was feeling.