Page 57 of Veil of Vasara (Fate of the Five #1)

CHAPTER 57- NEMINA

B efore us was a man, straddling across the back of a bird. An Erebask so magnificent its wingspan could have enfolded a group ten times our size. Its feathers were dark inky blue, but in the light of the moon, they appeared silver.

I’d heard of these birds.

The man was clad in an outfit that seemed to be a direct copy of his Erebask’s colouring. He pressed down, and the creature soared towards us, its talons outstretched and open. Even from here I could tell one slash of its claws would rip clean through an abdomen.

Ullna, Yaseer, and Aeesha began moving, trying to fly away from the clutches of all the riders. One cut across from the left striking at Yaseer, but he avoided it easily, his senses heightened.

Another went for Aeesha, she used her powers to teleport in various places across the sky, evading capture.

A third rider appeared and headed straight towards Ullna and I. She gripped the back of my cloak tighter with her left hand, then with her other, reached forwards, and tore part of the cliff edge from itself. She flung the debris in the rider’s direction, who yelled out and pivoted.

She’s a Telekinetic. Darean. Class Two.

The first man flew towards us.

On the back of his Erebask, was Aeesha’s unconscious body.

He lifted something from his clothing, a dark blade, and flung it in our direction. Ullna twisted and the blade swung past us.

I needed to levitate. I needed to do it now.

I reached above me and grabbed Ullna by the wrist. She looked down at me distressed as she realised what I was doing. I pushed her wrist off mine.

“NEMINA!” Baz screamed.

I tumbled down through the sky. The weightlessness of the air was stark, the speed at which I fell even starker. I closed my eyes. I tried to focus. I had mastered the other basic skills, and so this one should be possible, under this stress, here and now, to acquire.

But I was still falling, faster and faster. I spun around so I was facing the ground but couldn’t hold my position, and flipped over in the air.

Someone grabbed my arm and yanked me up.

His tied-up hair had come loose, flowing past his shoulders, onto his lilac shirt.

Baz. Baz had actually levitated.

“What are you doing?!” he exclaimed, gripping my wrist so tightly it felt as if it would bruise.

Another rider came towards us. There were more now. Seven of them.

Baz threw me into the air.

I rose above him and floated, staring at him confused. I wasn’t moving.

Ullna was next to me, her hand outstretched in my direction.

Telekinetics could move people as well as objects?

Baz frowned, seemingly concentrating ferociously. In the next instant, one rider began to fly into the other. The two Erebasks yelled fretfully, clawing at one another, and tumbled down to the ground.

Baz was doing it. He was using his abilities as a Telepath.

Another rider approached us from behind. Yaseer appeared and outstretched his hand, taking the rider’s sight.

But the man atop the Erebask only laughed. “You think blinding me will work?” He laughed again and flung his dagger towards Ullna. She turned around and stopped the blade in its tracks, inches before her face. I began falling again, before Yaseer grabbed me.

This wasn’t enough. I had to do something. I was currently being flung around like dead weight.

The rider pressed forwards towards Ullna. He had just been about to throw another blade, when I struck Yaseer’s wrist using strength enhancement, and using speed enhancement, leapt across the sky a short distance.

I landed on top of the Erebask’s back.

The bird shrieked and the rider turned around. He lunged with a blade at my chest, but I stopped him, grabbing his wrist and breaking it within a second.

“Fuckkkk!” he wailed, sounding terrified.

I grabbed him by the neck. He tried to remove my hands, but before he could place any real effort into the attempt, I threw him off the Erebask.

The bird screeched, clearly attached to its owner, and plunged down towards him.

“No!” I yelled at the Erebask, knowing it was futile.

In seconds, Ullna was by my side, reaching her hand out towards me.

I readied myself to jump, when at the corner of my eye, a dark blade pierced through the sky, heading towards Ulna's skull.

I made the jump, but instead of grabbing Ullna’s hand, I shoved her forwards.

The blade plunged into the side of my left thigh. I yelled out. The pain was intense, ravaging at my flesh instantly. Ullna tumbled, confused as I fell.

Understanding what had happened, she flew towards me, but was stopped by another rider.

The pain from the blade was infinitely worse than last time. The force had been stronger, the speed of the blade immeasurable, and the wielder of the weapon clearly trained in a way the Captain had not been.

The man who had thrown it, his eyes were glazed over too. He couldn’t even see. But it didn’t matter to these men, these people. No matter what senses Yaseer took, it seemed they could work without them, that they could kill without them.

The rider who had thrown the blade, flew towards me. In the next second, the talons of his Erebask circled my torso, curling around my back. He was laughing, crazed, directing his Erebask as far away from the others as possible.

The blade was still in my leg.

I pulled it out, unable to avoid screaming as I did. The man looked down, the laugh from his face wiped away instantly. Evidently, he was still able to hear.

I stabbed the bird with all the strength I had left in its underbelly.

Its cries were so loud and so piercing, that I covered my ears as it dropped me, the other Erebasks around us cried out in a similar manner, a symphony of suffering playing through the stars.

The rider was thrown from the Erebask. Both he and I were falling adjacent to one another, tumbling towards the ground.

Above me, I could see the vague silhouettes of Yaseer and Ullna, both occupied in combat, and Baz, under Yaseer’s arm, who looked unconscious. Baz was probably unused to exercising as much power as he had. After all, the vision the Captain had created, the first one I’d experienced and triggered, had completely disorientated me.

I had just been about to accept my fate, when the man falling beside me grabbed my arm, and yanked me towards him.

He spun in the air, and drew another blade from his belt, submerging it into the stone we were falling beside. It slowed our fall, not much, but enough.

Enough for us to somehow both be breathing when we landed on the ground, strewn with sand and stone, surrounded on all sides by towering buttes. The moonlight had weaved around them at just the right angle. There was a small pond, a basin, in the centre, reflecting its glow.

I had fallen on one side of the pond, the man on the other.

I could hear the sound of several of my bones breaking as I landed.

And the man, laughing again, manically.

There was no way he too hadn’t suffered grievous injuries.

To the tune of his delirious laughter, I lay there on the ground, grunting and wheezing, in searing pain.

It had only been hours since I had been in agony, and here I was, writhing in it once more.

I was beginning to understand why the man was laughing.

But I could not understand why he had bothered to try and capture me. He would have had a better chance of survival had he tried to slow his fall alone.

We should never have come here, no matter the desperation, no matter the situation. Vasara’s trackers were the largest unit hunting down our kind, but Audra’s warriors were trained like no other, this even I knew.

And I would not, under any circumstances, return to those draining centres.

I turned onto my back, there it was again, that night sky.

Not even that could maintain its beauty now. Now this sky would forever be a reminder of this night, those screams.

I reached down to my left thigh. It was bleeding profusely, barely slowing from my healing capabilities.

I moaned from pain as I touched it.

If only the Healer could show up now. Where was he, I found myself wondering? Lounging in a lavish castle, dining in a great banquet hall, dressed in the finest silks.

As I lay here, broken and bleeding on the ground.

I turned back onto my front, with great effort, and intense pain. I dragged myself forwards, on my elbows towards the water. I sniffed it, it seemed fine. I placed a small amount on my finger, then licked it. It tasted normal. I waited a few minutes and felt nothing so, assuming I would be here for a while, and that I would die without water with this much blood loss, drank some, cupping it in my palm.

One drip had tasted adequate, but the cup tasted stale.

I raised my head to look at the man lying across from me. His hair was long and dark, now covered in dirt, and strewn across his cheeks. His features were sharp and angular. One half of his face was covered in blood, and his eye was completely swollen over, forming a purple against his brown skin. His shoulder looked as if it had dislocated, and one of his legs was clearly broken.

He slowly turned his head towards me, noticing my presence. He looked down at my hands which were cupping some water.

If he expected me to satiate his thirst, then he was even more insane than I had thought.

“Kkk, crrr…” He made some gurgling noises and began coughing up blood.

I returned to drinking the water, ignoring him.

At some point I passed out.

Hours later I regained consciousness. The sky was becoming brighter, but it was still dark, so I figured, I couldn’t have been unconscious for long.

I reached down to my thigh again. The bleeding had stopped but not completely. The places where my bones had ached and broken, were still throbbing, but less forcefully.

I got up on my elbows and managed to get into a seated position.

My vision turned blue immediately as I did, the blood loss must have been greater than I had thought.

I forced myself to drink some more of the disgusting water again and pressed some of it into my wound.

“Aggggghhhhhhh, FUCK!” I screamed as I did. What was it in Noxstone that could cause such intense and prolonged torment? I’d have to ask that arrogant Prince about it the next time I saw him.

I lifted up the brown bodice of my clothing and tore off a piece of the dark undershirt. I tied it around my thigh, half sobbing as I did.

I turned towards the man, who wasn’t moving.

I should let him die there.

But not before asking him some questions.

I dragged myself backwards, half upright, my legs in front of me, until I was sitting beside the man.

Up close, his condition looked even worse.

I reached forwards and placed my fingers on his neck. He still had a pulse. I double checked to be sure since I was wearing leather gloves. The fact he was still alive was miraculous.

I leant back, against the dark stone his body was lying by, taking deep breaths, exhausted from having dragged myself here.

I opened my eyes slowly to find his unswollen one, small and dark, looking at me.

“Haven’t"—he choked in between his words — “killed me yet?”

I looked at the state of him. “What would be the point? You’re dead soon anyway.”

“Hahahaha.” He choked on more blood again. “You sound … crrrr…like someone I know.”

“You’re going to answer” — I took a breath, needing a break between talking — “some questions.”

“Some... caaa... kkrccc” —he continued to cough up blood, which dribbled down his chin — “you really do…sound like… him.”

I stretched out my uninjured leg, and pushed my foot down on his broken one, hard.

He screamed. It was deep and throaty and drew up more blood from his lungs.

“Why did you take me here? Your fall would have broken far easier if you hadn’t,” I questioned him.

The man laughed again, in the same crazed way as before. “I’m sorry…. but…torture isn’t…going to…crrr ksfsss… work…. on me.”

“Oh really?” I spoke.

I did the only thing I could think to do.

I pulled off my glove, reached forwards, and touched his skin.

I could hear the faint sound of his deep howl of pain as I was plunged into a vision with him.

A room. Large. A seat. A throne. A man on it, tanned skin, golden eyes, an unkind grin plastered across his face.

“You really think so?” the man on the throne says to the other.

It is him. The man at the bottom of the steps. The same as the half dead man on the ground. Only now he is clean, dressed in a dark robe. His hair is tied back in a long, tight ponytail.

“There’s no other explanation Your Majesty, it grieves me to say so,” he says.

The man’s grin remains unchanged. “Do not lie to me, Silus.”

“Your Majesty, I would not dare,” Silus bows his head slightly.

“He has never disobeyed me before,” the man on the throne says.

“I do not understand it myself, Your Majesty,”

“You will complete the task in his stead.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I don’t want a trace of that family left alive.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,”

The ‘Majesty’ stands up. "Since when did he develop such morals?” He clicks his tongue. “When did he grow so insolent?”

Silus does not reply.

“Watch him, every second of every hour.”

“He will know, Your Majesty,”

“It doesn’t matter. As long as he is reminded of who he serves.”

“And if he disobeys again, Your Majesty?”

“You know what to do.”

The vision before me blurred, like the water of a lake, the images merging together, until I was thrown into another.

Silus is on a roof, a hood over his head. He is crouching, looking down at the scene below.

Kalnasa.

A large training ground, surrounded by short buildings, and trees dotted with pale flowers. Their scent suffuses with the night breeze. The roofs of the buildings are curved and mint green. People are training, a few left in the late hours of the night. The last one places his spear down and retreats inside the building.

Silus does not wait. He moves, silently across the roof. He curves between and around the edges of the balconies and upper walls, tiptoeing across them as if he walks on air.

He throws himself through a window and lands soundlessly on the ground.

Inside, a large office. A cool blue carpet below his feet. The walls are sage in colour and there are straw mats placed in front of a pale wooden desk. Behind the desk is a stack of shelves, occupied by various books and scrolls.

Silus looks around briefly, then tucks himself into a corner, behind one of those bookshelves, blending in with the shadows.

A woman walks in. She turns around and strolls towards the desk. A bright pink robe floats behind her. She’s placing a hand on her outstretched belly as she sits down.

A man follows her shortly afterwards. He leans forwards and kisses her on the forehead. He is wrapped in a navy robe, his hair in a top knot. He smiles as he looks at her.

“My love, you should be sleeping.”

She groans in response and bats his hand away. “I can’t sleep, the baby kicks too much.”

He pats her hair. “Let me make something for you, to calm you a little.”

She looks up at him and smiles. “If it will make you feel better.”

“It makes me feel better to make you feel better.” He kisses her forehead again.

The navy clad man disappears to a back room. The woman leans on her desk, reading something before her.

But the man from the shadows emerges. She opens her mouth to scream.

But silence.

Silus slits her throat.

She falls back onto the floor, gasping, her eyes wide, looking up at him. She clutches at her neck as she reaches up and knocks over a bookshelf behind her. A loud crash. Silus stands there and waits.

The man from the back room runs out and takes in the sight. He draws a spear from an adjacent wall. Silus throws a dagger at him, but the man in blue avoids it and leaps over the table plunging for him. Silus darts to the side but not fast enough to avoid a strike of the spear. The two men stand facing each other. The resolve in the dark blue eyes of the navy clad man is strong, but it fades as he sees his dead beloved on the ground, slumped against the wall.

He charges towards Silus. They fight, like two dancers against the darkness. They dodge one another’s blows, their feet light, at one with their legs and their arms. Silus trips the man in blue, who stumbles, but twists his spear to strike Silus’ back. He does. The impact is forceful and demanding. The man in blue regains his composure.

“Who are you? Who sent you?” the man in blue asks.

Silus does not respond.

The man in blue looks him up and down. “You’re one of his, aren’t you?”

Silus attacks. The man in blue evades.

“He knows, doesn’t he?”

Silus ignores him and fires another dagger through the air. The man in blue somersaults over it and lands on the ground.

Somehow, apart from the bookshelf the woman pulled over, not a single thing in the room has been touched, or disturbed.

The man turns and sprints into an adjacent room. Silus follows him, but too late. A bell, a large bell in the room, which the man in blue rings.

All around, the hallways and corridors come to life.

But the man in blue cannot do both, he cannot ring the bell and defend himself from the dagger that flies through the air. He knows this. It lands in his chest.

Silus waits for the man in blue to fall, waits until he is sure he will die. He makes for the exit, the window, but pauses.

He pauses in front of the woman, slumped on the ground. He looks at her. He knows he has no time. He knows that any second now, the other Kalnasan warriors will come, will enter the rooms of their leader, their mentor, and find him, and his beloved dead. He can take on one, three, eight, perhaps ten, but more than that, he isn’t sure.

No trace left behind he had said.

He doesn’t know if she’s far enough along. He doesn’t know.

He closes his eyes and looks away, swallowing and wincing, as he flings a dagger at her stomach.

He was meant to kill the others too. He knows that he has failed.

But he has no time. He has done what the other man could not, he has completed the main task.

It will have to be enough.

He jumps out of the window and into the dark.

The images blurred again, merging like the ocean with a cloudy sky, drifting further away like a thick dark fog, until they were gone.

My hand drew away from his skin. I was sweating. The man on the ground was staring up in front of him, confused, not truly alert.

It would be pointless to use this method of torture, if it not only caused me anguish, but rendered the person I was questioning unable to speak.

“How…crrr… my… skscrr… memories,” the man spat out. He had come around much faster than I had anticipated.

His memories? I had thought divination was only about predicting the future, not witnessing the past.

Had I seen the Captain’s past or future then?

I placed the question to the side.

“I’m sure you have many more you’d prefer not to relive,” I said, coldly.

He didn’t know it was painful for me to watch them too, that it disorientated me, and made me feel even weaker. Let him think I would be unaffected. Let him think I had something of an upper hand.

He choked. “Those…. are… nothing.”

“We can always dig around” — I took a breath— “until we find something.”

He turned towards me. “Please…crrrr…. help…yourself.”

This wasn’t working and I was too exhausted to reattempt a method with a low chance of success.

Physical torture was ineffective. Emotional torture was ineffective.

There was therefore, only one thing I could offer him, in return for answers.

“Answer me, and I’ll save your life.”

He chuckled. “And how do you…crr…. cuggrr… plan on saving me?”

Blood was still coming out of his mouth. He had little time left.

“I know a Healer.”

He stilled. His non swollen eye widened.

“And if that isn’t enough, I know your name, I heard it there, in your head, and if you die, I’ll make sure everyone knows it. I’ll tell them all you caved at the first instance, that you gave up every ounce of information you could possibly offer. You’ll be gone, but those you care for will not.”

I took a deep breath. I was taking a risk. Who was to say a man like this cared for anyone? But still, I persisted, “What will His Majesty do about that?”

He remained quiet, his one eye looking at me with dread.

The risk paid off. He does care. For one person at least.

To prove my point, I leant forwards and whispered, directly in his ear.

“Silus.”