The Unicorn: Chapter 5, Part 2

!~~~~~~~~~~!

         The old clock on the wall chimed three times, but it had to be later then that. Then again, It might not even be a clock for all he knew. It chimed again, and again, and again. The sound was deafening. Chime, chime, chime it went, stopping just long enough to torment his mind. The setting sun cast thick shadows into the room, the fireplace doing it’s best to combat the dark.

The door had no conventional lock, not that he recognized, but there were a few empty beds, and he had dragged two of them to barricade the door with. These people may have meant well, but that didn’t excuse the fact that, because of them, his sister was lying in a bed unconscious.

His conscience played horrible tricks. Voices began to pop into his head, chastising him for not taking more action, for not getting his sister out of here sooner. But what could he have done? They’d woken up on a ship in the middle of an ocean. And now they had woken up here, in the middle of an island with no way to get home The voice went quiet, giving him a reprise from it’s harsh words.

Maybe he was losing his mind. It was possible. But that was the least of his worries. Just about any case of long term unconsciousness he’d ever heard of had turned out bad. Brain damage was the worst case scenario, but none of the other scenarios were much better. Even if, somehow miraculously, Lucy came out of this perfectly fine, they would still suffer some losses. The ease with which he could move his mouth to speak was gone. Every word came out slurred by the left side of his lips unwillingness to move.

With each step he took it was clear that something was wrong, and he’d taken quite a few steps as he paced back and forth in the room. Maybe it was his right leg moving fast, or his left leg just moving too slow, but he’d had to concentrate early on to keep from pacing in circles.

The roof of the room was about two men high with large wooden rafters, supported by equally large and wooden beams. Besides the beds and the clock, the only other furniture was a large, worn down and broken, bookcase. On it’s shelves were thirty or so books, all old and worn, most of their titles rubbed away. Those without bindings he passed over without a second look, until he found a particularly interesting one tucked away in the bottom corner.

. The title, like most of the others, was practically illegible, the binding was all but gone, and each page had taken on a yellow-brown color. The pages felt so brittle when he touched them that he was almost afraid to turn the pages. Somehow he overcame his fear, and read aloud the first line of the first page. “The third cycle of the four thousandth year”, it read in large almost cursive like writing. Just below it was a name he was sure he couldn’t pronounce, and under that a title which read: The Day Civilization ends.

Just beneath all this was a small scrap of paper, somehow glued onto the page itself. The letters were Large and bold, but weren’t in the cursive that the writer had used. These, instead, were in large, blocky letters that would be impossible to misread. From top to bottom he read it silently to himself, then out loud once more.. “A state of Military Law has been enforced,” was printed across the top. “No citizen may leave their house, lodging or other form of residence after dark. Furthermore, the right to attendance or affiliation of any sort with Those Who Wait, or any other religious establishment is hereby revoked, effective immediately. In this time of turmoil we ask that you give the military, and their respective engagia, your full support.

The page went empty for a few lines before continuing. “Any resistance can, and will, be met with corporal punishment. If you are aware of, witness, or hear of any suspicious behavior, you are required to report it immediately to any acting military officer. Failure to comply with said rules will result in corporal punishment. For a full list of restrictions, curfew times and other laws, please contact your local towns head or any acting military officer.”

Lucy stirred behind him, tossing the bed covers off her legs and twisting them into a knot at the foot of the bed. She’d been moving like that for a few hours now, and he had soon learned not to read too much into it. More likely then not her body was simply moving according to needs. When it had first happened, he’d almost let himself hope she was waking up.

Lucy stirred once more, then fall back into her motionless sleep. She would wake up, he was sure of it. More sure then he’d been about anything in his life. If she didn’t wake up... Michael wasn’t sure what he would do. He could never return home without her. Going home with her in this condition was almost as bad, What would he say to his parents? No, he couldn’t think like this. There was nothing he could do at the moment but wait. Wait and hope. He had to get his mind off of it.

The book had spiked his curiosity with it’s eye catching opening line, but that didn’t mean he still didn’t feel bored. If there had been anything else to do but read, he probably wouldn’t have given the book a second glance. Nevertheless, he read on in an attempt to fill the time.

The second page was equally as old and brittle as the first, but there was no writing at all. Instead, there were the same snippets of paper somehow pasted into the book as on the first page. The same blocky letters, the same ink, it may have even been the same paper. The titles were a little different, though.

“War is Declared,”read the first, and “Those Who Wait Condemn the Military”. They meant nothing to him, but anything about what had happened and why they had been brought here was interesting. It had been explained to him before, once on the ship by that old man, but none of it had made much sense. Something about a war, and a rebellion? No, that couldn’t be right. This book was ancient, probably hundreds of years old. There was no way the war could still be going on. They’d been dragged here for some other reason. He continued on, ignoring the notes that started to appear more frequently the farther into the book he got.

Somewhere near the middle of the book the words suddenly stopped. Maybe some pages had been ripped out, but no that didn’t make sense. There was still plenty of pages left. For some reason the writer had just stopped. He flipped on through the rest of the empty pages, just to be sure that he hadn’t missed anything. Satisfied that there was nothing he had missed, he flipped back through the book to the last page with writing on it.

The writing was sloppy, as if jotted down as rapidly as possible, which didn’t make sense. The writing on the page before it was a very detailed, neatly written account of troop movement, resource transportation and current chain of command. This page was nearly illegible, and he could only make out a few words here and there:

“ The northern plains have suffered devastating losses........ The brigade holding the western mountain has been destroyed........ No effort has been made to retake lost land....... All forces urged to retreat towards the Great Library.” For almost the next half of the page was unreadable. Down near the bottom, with barely any space left, it picked up.”

“The great lord offers safe departure from the city for all civilians. All civilians urged to leave. Several military officers desert their posts. -The great lord has declared any who supported the Imperial Military to be enemies. -All citizens that left the city have been burned alive or otherwise executed. -The great lord declares all Military soldiers, engagia and any professed allies of the military traitors to the gods. All will be executed. -The wall has fallen, the enemy swarms in massive numbers. The Military has failed. We will protect the Library with ever man we have.”

The writing continued on another sentence or two, but none of it was readable. It didn’t have to be. They had told him that most people had fled the islands, but that could not be true. If this book was correct, and it was the first thing he felt he could believe so far, then the people didn’t flee. They had all been killed. Even the civilians that had surrendered had been killed. Now the person who had done all of that was after him and his sister. “This is bad.”

!~~~~~~~~~~!

         The attacks came so fast Eric couldn’t think. Fire burst up from the ground, forcing Eric to back peddle again, and again, and again. Rocks appeared out of nowhere, vaulting themselves from the creatures body and slamming into the ground around him as he tried to get away. Those attacks were nothing compared to what was coming, he knew. Next would be the physical attacks. They always went with the physical attacks when they got frustrated.

Sure enough, as the last rock hit the ground next to him, the molten man flung himself at Eric, fists and legs flailing around as Eric desperately tried to avoid them. Faced with a dilemma, he had only two options : Block the attacks, and possibly lose an arm or two, or run. There was little place to run left, the rocks that had been flung at him earlier littered the ground, making it hard to simply move without smacking a foot into one. But, since he felt a close attachment to all of his limbs, he ran, dodging rocks and stones even as he desperately tried to avoid fist and foot.

They ran around for a few minutes, a deadly game of Cat and mouse that could only end badly. Luckily enough, he had unconsciously started his way towards the weaker of the “fence posts”; the molten creature which had once stood there being forced to chase his victim, thus leaving the spot open, and freedom now lay but twenty yards away. There were no rocks here, just clear open ground. But the same rocks that had slowed his process had done the same to his pursuer, both of them having to pick their way through the maze of rubble.

Finally he cleared the last of the rocks; the spires, and freedom, just twelve yards away now. A twelve yard sprint while being chased by a creature that, for all reasons, didn’t really even need to walk. Stay and fight, perhaps delaying the inevitable, or run and force the inevitable quicker. No... there was no fighting, not now. If he couldn’t block him it meant he couldn’t touch him, and if he couldn’t touch him he couldn’t hit him. Besides, the heat the creature radiated had sapped all the moisture out of the air. It was hard to draw a breath of the warm, muggy air.

The footsteps from behind him got closer. The smaller of the rocks were flung at him as the gap between them closed. Summoning all the energy left in his body, ignoring the dizziness in his head and the spots in his vision, Eric took off, rushing as fast as he could across the clearing, pushing his aching legs to the limit and beyond.

The footsteps behind him picked up pace, a pace far faster then his own. But try as he might to will his muscles into speed, he simply could not force his legs to go any faster. Something cracked in his foot, a bone maybe?, but he pushed on, ignoring the obvious signs of his physical limit. Another crack, this time near his ankle. Eric stumbled, almost fell, righted himself, and pushed on. Blood was seeping out from under his pant leg, but he pushed on anyway. There was no use in stopping. His leg would be the worst of his problem if he didn’t get away.

Still they ran, until the spires were agonizingly close. Unfortunately, that was when he was caught. But even when that first strike came across his back from his ever fast pursuer, he pushed on, desperately trying to get away.. A second hit came shortly after, this time across his left shoulder. Something popped, his arm hung slackly, he pushed on. A third hit, across his spine. Thank god nothing popped, but the pain was enough to make him stumble once, twice, but still he pushed on. The fourth and final hit was across the back of his head, and this time he didn’t just stumble, he fell. Blood rushed across his neck and onto his face. Heads always bled a lot, he might still live.

Something , or somebody rather, stood over him, chuckled and said something, laughing again at it’s own jeer. Who was it? Eric couldn’t remember...., recent memory refused to come to his mind, but it had been chasing him, right? The spots in his vision grew larger, his hearing dimmed and he began to fade in and out. Something had hit his head... his left arm felt like it was out of socket, he couldn’t move his right leg or foot at all. This was bad. Very bad. Not being able to walk away alive bad. He should know what had happened, it had only been a few seconds ago, but he couldn’t make sense of anything. The person above him said something else, disappeared for a few seconds, and reappeared with a large rock the size of his head hoisted up high.

One more jeer at Eric’s expense, and the rock came down with all the force the person could muster. Eric clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, bracing for his own death. But it never came. The air rang with a low, un-human howl. Eric was lifted off the ground, put on something fluffy, and off he went, rushing quickly past the spires and into the thick woods. He turned his head, trying to get a look at who had saved him. A pair of large grey eyes... A furry snout? What the.... Consciousness overtook him and the world went dark.

!~~~~~~~~~~!

         Books upon books were piled up against the wall, some he’d read, some he had passed over. The sun had set a while ago, and he’d been forced to take his ever growing pile of books closer to the fireplace. There’d been a small incident an hour ago were one of the books had caught a spark from the logs, but so far the night had been boring enough. After reading that first book he had scoured the shelves, hoping to learn as much as he could about what they’d been dragged into. No such luck. Besides that first log book there were no other books that told him much, and the few that had any significant information all ended the same way: Mass Genocide.

Whoever these people were, whatever they had done, they had made a very dangerous enemy. The news clips he had found in the first book turned out to be quite a rarity; he couldn’t find any other form of History book at all. There were logs of troop movements, religious books, novels, poems, he had even found a herbology book. None of them dated back more then twenty years. Even the log book he had discovered was newer then he had first thought. The pages were yellowed and old, but not with age. Scratched into the hard wood spine was a date that, at his best guess, was only seven years ago. For all appearances, nobody knew much of anything past twenty years ago, as if nothing had happened at all.

That couldn’t be right though. Sure, there were records of mass killings, but not everybody could have died. There had to have been a few left alive after the war, and even then there should still be books about it. Another book on farming techniques. Michael slammed the book down on top of a pile in frustration, sending all of them tumbling to the floor.

It didn’t make sense Sure, he could buy the fact that them being brought here had been a mistake, and yeah maybe he could believe that the entity that existed in the book was still alive today, had survived hundreds of years, and was trying to kill them. But, then why were they sitting here? Lucy still hadn’t woken up, his left eye had begun to move slower then usual, he might never walk normal again, and still they waited. By now they should be thinking of leaving, shouldn’t they? Michael wasn’t too tickled at the thought of moving his sister while she was in the condition she was, but at least she was alive.

As long as she was alive there was always a hope she could be saved. But if they stayed here, and were somehow found out by whoever was trying to kill them, their chances of survival would drop drastically. That doctor didn’t really seem the fighting type, he hadn’t heard from Eric since they’d met on the ship, and with his newly bum leg and useless arm he wouldn’t be able to protect Lucy let alone himself. If they got moving maybe they could find the person who was hunting them. And if they could find him, maybe they could kill him.

It was a long shot, a desperate thought. But if they could somehow kill him, or even escape him until he wasn’t trying to kill them anymore, maybe they could figure a way out. As friendly as these people might want to seem, he couldn’t trust them. Even if they were on his side, they were still responsible for what had happened to Lucy. They were responsible for both of their lives, and so far they had failed miserably at protecting them.

Just as Michael was about to launch into another self pity, people hating rant, his thoughts were interrupted. A loud crash rippled through the building, the wall to his right started to bend and finally caved in. A flash of white light exploded into the room, something hit him in the head, then nothing. The light died down. But then again, once he lost Consciousness, everything went dark.

!~~~~~~~~~~!

         The hallway was filled with a thick cloud of smoke. Edward should know better, he was a doctor after all, but smoking was a habit he’d never tried to break. When times got rough, everybody needed a release valve. So what if his was a disgusting habit that would just as likely kill him as give him comfort? Every man was allowed vices, and his just happened to be smoking. And drinking, but he’d long ago run out of booze.
Michael, who’s name he’d only learned after hours of cajoling, had barricaded the door what must have been hours ago. It was a dangerous decision, not allowing his sisters doctor to give her treatment, but in all fairness there wasn’t much more he could have done. Fresh water had been delivered to the room, with instructions to keep her cool if she developed a fever, and after that he’d been locked out completely.

His knocks on the door went unanswered, his pleas to give them checkups ignored. If Eric were here he’d no doubt have something witty to say, perhaps chastising Edward for smoking, or goading him into helping break down the barricade. But Eric wasn’t here, was he? Neither was Casside, who had disappeared to her own devices about the same time he’d begun to smoke.

Edward usually preferred to be alone, but not like this. Not tonight. Every little sound, every creak of the house or chirp of a bird had him on edge. He was not a fighter, had never been a fighter and never would be a fighter. Yet, here he was, the only one left of the group who apparently gave a damn. If it hadn’t been for his pipe he may have gone mad. If he wasn’t already.

“You know,” he yelled deftly at the door. “ I never really even signed up for this. Most people would think you’d get a choice. Nuh-uh, not me. They said they needed a doctor to take care of the wounded when they attempted some mission. There aren’t that many doctors left you see, not nowadays. So, naturally they chose me. Well, a week later I’m stuck in the harbor because the morons took off without me. I would have left if I didn’t think Eric would have tracked me down and skinned my-“

The house shuddered violently, so violently that pictures fell to the floor with the impact. Even his pipe was knocked from his hand as the terrible sound of ripping wood broke the night’s air. Edward staggered to his feet, took a few steps to the door before he was struck blind by a terrific light that penetrated the hall from beneath the door. When the light died down, all he could see were large yellow spots in his vision.

The door couldn’t have been that far away, probably only a few steps. He had almost been there when the light had flashed. Hand on wall, he stumbled along until, at long last, his hand gripped the doorknob. “Michael, what the hell’s happening in there?”. No answer. “Michael, if something is wrong you need to let me in ” Still no answer. The silence was terrifying, he’d always gotten at least a grunt from the kid. “Fine, have it your way ”

There were worse things then being blind, but he couldn’t think of any that would make breaking down a door harder. Backing up, he ran at the door, his right shoulder impacting the wall just next to it. It felt as if every nerve in his arm had been lit on fire simultaneously. He backed up again, adjusting his position by feel, and turning to the other side. Again he ran towards the door. Again he missed, slamming his shoulder hard into the door jam. His arm hung slack and bleeding at his side. He bit his tongue to hold back the scream. There would be time enough to scream after the door was broken down.

Turning back to his right shoulder, he adjusted his position once more, praying to any god who’s name he knew that he wouldn’t miss again. He backed up and, with only a few hesitant thoughts, flung himself against the door. This time he hit it, gave a cry of triumph, backed up and hit it again. The wood splintered, shattered but didn’t give way. His left shoulder had gone numb, a relief from the blinding pain, but a bad sign. The muscles in his right shoulder were screaming at him, begging him to stop and take a rest. Delaying the pain would only make it worse.

He mustered his bravery, ignored his bodies cry for him to stop, and flung his shoulder against the door. It finally gave way, and he was in the room. Ignoring the odd fact that the barricade was nowhere in sight, he at once rushed to the side of the very slack body of Michael, fearing that the medicine had stopped working. Slapping the boys face, screaming his name, he was oblivious to the fact that there was another entity in the room.

“He won’t be waking up for a while. I’d be more worried about yourself at the moment.”The voice hissed from behind him.

The presence of somebody behind him caught him entirely off guard. Had there been somebody else in the room when he had barged in? Edward couldn’t remember. Maybe... his eyes had been immediately drawn to the humans that he hadn’t even stopped to consider that somebody else may be lying in wait. With a fear of dying fresh in his mind, he turned to confront his attacker. It was the wrong move to make.

Something pierced deep into his stomach and out his back. Blood pounded in his ears. The world threatened to go dark.

!~~~~~~~~~~!

         Something rubbed against his arm, sending shockwaves of pain rippling through his body. Where was he? He couldn’t remember. Dried blood caked the left side of his face and neck, where it had come from he didn’t know. The muscles in his back spasmed painfully when he tried to turn his head, and after a few minutes of trying to force the pain into submission, he gave up. Whatever he was riding on wasn’t worth the pain to get a look at.

His vision was steady, the fact that he could move his neck mean there was no spinal injury, maybe. Except for his left arm, which refused to move, he seemed fine. The pain in his head was the biggest worry. It could have been the movement of his neck, or it could be the injury that had caused all this blood, he didn’t know. If it didn’t stop soon, however, he was likely to pass out again.

“Don’t try to move,” the furry thing carrying him said. “You took a nasty blow to the head before I could get to you. I don’t know how badly you’re injured.”

The voice seemed familiar. He was sure he had heard it before. Yes... if only the pain in his head would go away he could recognize it....
“Mikal..?”

“Yes, it is me.”

“But... I thought....,” Eric paused, trying to stop the stammer in his voice. “ What are you doing here? I told all of you to go ahead...”

“Forgive me, I had to disobey.” They were traveling through the woods at a pretty good pace, but slower then possible. The jarring would be much worse if they were going as fast as they could. Mikal apparently wanted Eric to stay awake. “ I smelled his scent on the wind, and I had to come back.”

Eric uttered a guttural groan that caused Mikals ears to prick up. They all had bones to pick, the people in his small tattered group. They all had reasons for revenge, and Mikal was no exception. It was a miracle that he hadn’t stepped in before and got banged up like Eric was.

“Did you...,” Eric braced himself as they went over a fallen log. “Did you track Cole when he left?”

“A little. I thought it best not to leave you for too long.” Mikal cocked his head to listen to Eric’s breathing. With all the blows he’d taken, a punctured lung or broken rib wasn’t too far a stretch. “Don’t worry, I made sure he wasn’t headed towards the others before I came back.”

“What about the...”

“Do not worry. We are not being followed.”

That was a relief. Mikal may have saved his life, but he could not hold his own against that creature. They would not have the element of surprise again, and without it they were helpless.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Mikal growled, interrupting Eric’s thoughts. “That animal back there, he was an engagia, was he not?”

“Yes.”

“But.... how is that possible? I thought they were killed off at the end of the war.”

“Does any of this seem possible to you?”

Mikal didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. There had to have been survivors after the war. Eric wasn’t naive enough to think that they all could have been killed. But there were very few beings that could have stayed alive that long. In fact, until today, there had been only one he knew of.

“Eric.”

Eric finally allowed himself to let out a pent up sigh. If Mikal kept interrupting his thoughts like this, Eric was doomed to never make sense of it all. “Yes, Mikal?” he asked slightly irritated.

“I’m sorry to pipe in again, but you need to know there is a disturbing presence ahead. The small village where the others stopped is very near... and I smell blood.”

Eric’s face fell. He’d expected to get a break sometime. Just a small one, something to ease the burden. Whatever sick entity, call it fate, call it god, that controlled their destiny was cruel. If he had to fight again, he’d die. If the humans were dead, he might as well die.

“If that is the case, I suggest you cease holding back your speed.” Mikal turned his head slightly, giving Eric a quizzical look. Well, as quizzical a look as he could. “If I pass out again, revive me when we get there.”

!~~~~~~~~~~!

         There was a nasty ringing in Michael’s ears when he finally came to. The sudden breaking of the wall, couple with that horrible flash of light, had caused him to stumble backwards. Skull met with the wood of the book case and, well the results were less then ideal. By some stroke of luck the skin had not broken, but there was a nasty welt growing there. It would hurt like the dickens for the next couple days, but he was more worried about his sister.

Rolling onto his back, he took a moment to catch his breath and gather his thoughts. He had hit his head so hard and fast that he hoped he had escaped the glaring light. No such luck. His vision was blurry at best, he was still nearly blind at worst. Somehow he managed to end the ringing in his ears after a few minutes, but it didn’t really matter. He couldn’t navigate with hearing alone, and even if he could manage to get up and moving, he could feel enough rubble around him to make moving hazardous even if he wasn’t blind. There was nothing to do but wait for his vision to come back.

Something wet touched his hand, and he pulled back with surprise. What could that be? It hadn’t been raining, and he’d used up all but a tiny amount of the water that he’d been given. Besides, that water jug had to be at the other end of the room by the door. No, this liquid moved a lot slower and was much too thick to be water. He swirled his fingers around in the strange liquid for a few minutes, just trying to tell what it could be, when he heard the voices.

Michael couldn’t figure how he had missed them before. They were low, almost whispers, but they were consistent and had apparently been talking for a while now. It must be that doctor and the angry woman. Without another thought he dismissed them. Something strange had happened, but if those two were there it probably wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t that he trusted them, but they apparently needed him a lot, and he doubted they’d let anything bad happen. It was perhaps a flawed logic, but it was all he had at this point.

The strange liquid continued to spread slowly, covering his forearm and working it’s way towards the rest of his body. It smelled odd... not like any liquid he’d smelled before. It was warm to the touch, and for some odd reason instinct said he taste it. It was stupid, and he knew that. This liquid could be poisonous for all he knew. But his flawed logic dictated that, if the fluid was poisonous, somebody would stop him from tasting it, right? So down his finger went, dabbing lightly into the fluid and carrying it upwards to his waiting lips. With one last hesitant thought, his tongue darted out, licked his finger and darted back in.

It was a very weird sensation. The taste was familiar, and he was fairly certain it wouldn’t kill him. It took him a few moments, as it would anybody with a normal pallette, but the taste finally came to him. Anybody who’d ever bitten their tongue, or cheek, would recognize the coppery taste. It could only be blood.

!~~~~~~~~~~!

         The darkness never came. If it had been Edwards choice he would have welcomed the brief break from the pain, but it was just his luck that he stayed awake. Luck seemed to failed him once more when his vision came back, and he was able to see just what kind of shape he was in. It wasn’t good. Michael lay to his left, awake and unaware of what was happening. Edward wanted to scream at him to get up, yell at him to grab his sister and run, but words deserted him. Every syllable that somehow managed to pass his lips just came out with a sickening gurgle.

Blood seeped out the side of his mouth, dripping down his chin and mingling with the blood from his stomach. Laying on his back, propped up on his elbows, he had a good view of what had happened. He’d walked in, heard a voice behind him and turned just in time to have the metal rod pierce through his stomach and out his back. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but it could have been worse. If he hadn’t turned, and been hit in the back, possibly in the spine, he’d be dead already. Not that getting hit in the stomach would mean his survival. He was pretty much dead either way. But, at least this way he got a good view of the person who’d killed him. It was a pale victory in the face of his death.

“I should have seen this coming. Sinking the boat wasn’t enough for you? I thought you weren’t his lackey anymore.”

The person just smiled, pulled the pole out just a tiny bit, and laughed as Edward screamed. “He has nothing to do with this. When the ship went down, I was puzzled as to why you weren’t among the dead. I was thinking you had somehow escaped, but ‘lo and behold you didn’t even make it onto the ship. And now I find you here, with the humans. What’s gotten into you?”

“Who the hell knows...” Edward muttered, wincing as Isaac shifted the pipe in his hands.

“I’m sorry about the pipe,” he whispered. “But I need to make sure you wouldn’t interfere until you had heard what I had to say.”

“I’m not alone, you know. There will be others coming, even if you do kill me.”

“My silly, naive doctor. I have no quarrel with the humans. It’s you I’m here for. Only you. Now quiet down, or I’ll have to kill you faster.”

Edward settled down, content on living as long as he could. Whatever he had to say, it probably wasn’t worth hearing. There was still a small chance that somebody would come, however. Chances were he wouldn’t live even if somebody did come, but at the very least his death might be avenged.

“Now, that’s better. Don’t worry, I made sure to drive the pipe in such a way that you should be able to live for a while. But to the bigger issue.” Isaac reached into his robe and withdrew a small vial of blue liquid. “It is in my best interest, and the interest of my assistant, that the girl lives. This medicine will see to that.”

“Why... why are you giving this tom me?” Edward caught the vial when it was tossed to him, despite common sense telling him to simply throw it away. He’d examine it later, if he lived. Who knows, Isaac may be telling the truth, and the medicine might not be poisoned. “What do you mean assistant?”

“No... no questions my sad little doctor.”

“How do I know this medicine will work?”

“Now that sounds like a question.” Isaac gripped the end of the pipe firmly, pulling it out at an agonizingly slow pace. “ Like I said, it’s in my best interest for the girl to live. If you cannot believe that, then believe that if I wanted to kill the humans, they’d be dead by now.”

The pipe finally slid out with a sickening plop, and Edward fell to the floor in agony. Blood began to pour out of his chest, and if there had been any doubt that he would die, it had evaporated. “Get up and give her the medicine. Like you said, the others will have heard that noise. We can’t afford to dawdle.”

“We?”

“Of course, doctor. Your coming with me.”

!~~~~~~~~~~!

         “What the hell happened here? ”

The sight they rode up to was enough to make Eric want to groan at his own misfortune. The entire Inn was gone. The small little fishing village, gone. The only living things left in sight were Casside and the kids, all covered in blood and ash, all looking miserable as they sat next to the ruins of the Inn.

“We had a mishap.” Casside said, rummaging through the charred wood for anything useful.

“Mishap ?” Eric was incredulous as he struggled onto his own feet. “Mishap ? The Inn is gone Do you know how much trouble we could be in? It’s bad enough that you were still here when we arrived, but you’ve endangered innocent lives by staying here as long as you did What if you had been found? I can’t be here all the time, you have to make intelligent decisions on your own Where the hell is Edward? How could he let this happen?!”

“Edward is gone.”

Eric stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose in a feeble attempt to thwart the oncoming headache. “Well, where the hell did he go?”

Casside stood up straight, looking around for a few seconds. “Don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?

“It’s as simple as that,” she said. “He disappeared about the time the Inn caught fire. If I hadn’t come back from the woods when I had, the humans would be dead.”

Eric paused before he spoke, considering things a minute. Edward wasn’t a person who would simply leave for no reason. His absence was troubling, and another thing that had gone wrong in a string of bad luck. “What...,” He paused again, bending down to help rummage through the rubble.”What were you doing in the woods?”

Casside stopped, gave him a nasty look and walked away. “I was hunting.”

“Fine, whatever. Lie to me if you want, it doesn’t matter.” Eric hadn’t met Casside until a few weeks ago, but he knew enough about her to know that working together would be hard, and being able to control her practically impossible. If anything else went wrong, it was probably going to be coming from her. “We need to get moving. If the humans haven’t woken up yet, load them onto mikal and let’s get going.”

“Can you walk in that condition?”

“Don’t worry about me,” he grimaced. “I can take care of myself.”

“Fine. But shouldn’t we wait for Edward?”

“If he was coming back, he’d have returned when the fire started. We can’t afford to waste anymore time. If he’s still alive, he’ll catch up to us later.”

“Where are we headed?”

“What the hell does it matter!?” Eric snapped at her. He knew it was unwarranted, and knew it would only exasperate the issues, but damn it felt good. “We’ll head to the mountains.”

“He’s up there?”

“Yes.”

“What if we can’t kill him?”

“Then we’ll continue as originally planned.”

“Do you have the stomach for it.”

Eric closed his eyes and reopened them when he couldn’t banish his nightmares from his mind. “Maybe not..,” he whispered in a very small voice. “But that’s what you’re here for.”

!~~~~~~~~~~!