The duelist 7, p.27
The Duelist 7, page 27
“Eeeeeeyaaaaah!”
I snapped my head over my shoulder expecting to see Ozzy, and I received a shock when a vaguely familiar indigo blur dashed past me and vaulted itself at the spiny-beast.
Then the Lakuna-woman from my dreams stabbed two rock daggers that were way cooler than mine into two of the beast’s eyes.
“Hssssssss!” it hissed, and it was momentarily distracted from me as it attempted to buck and fling the furious siren-girl off its face.
This allowed me to stagger to my feet so I could head in Rylan’s direction, and I saw he’d crashed down to his knees with two hands clutching his chest.
“Rylan!” I called.
“Eeeeeeyaaaaah!” the navy-haired woman cried out, but this only seemed to piss the noise-sensitive creature off even more, and it threw her off like a raging bull.
Rylan coughed a deep chesty cough that sounded wet and tight at the same time. It rattled out of him like the sound of a congested engine idling and on its last legs.
The sound was just as grating to the beast as the siren-woman’s ear-piercing cry, and it set its sights on him.
“Nooooooo!” Ozzy bellowed loudly enough to startle the beast so I could get a head start, and I sprinted straight for Rylan just as the kid pitched forward onto his face.
“Ry.” I skidded next to him and turned him on his back.
“I…” He hacked again, and flecks of blood dotted his bluish lips.
“You are so grounded, so don’t even think of dying,” I said as I hauled him back up into my arms and looked around for an exit.
“S-Sorry,” he croaked, and then his head lolled back as his eyes fluttered shut.
“Hsssssss!” The spiny-beast was now coming at me slowly but surely with its snapping pincered forearms, and I backed up, but my booted heel caught on something, and I landed hard on my ass with Ry still unconscious in my arms.
Suddenly, the Lakuna-woman was there helping me up to my feet again with her surprisingly strong hands around one of my biceps. It wasn’t the most graceful maneuver, and I nearly dropped Rylan in the process.
The motion ended up jarring something loose from my son’s trouser pocket, and with a crystal ding, the small serving bell Rylan had been holding on to for me bounced off the ground with another sharp ring before it came to a rest.
“Eeeeeek!” The spiny-beast recoiled from the bell like a circus elephant from a harmless mouse.
My eyebrows arched, and I exchanged a glance with the woman, who had a stunned look on her jade-colored face that probably matched mine.
Without taking too much time to dwell on it, the woman scooped up the bell Vela had insisted I carry and rang it once by the handle.
Ding.
“Eeeee…” the spider wailed a little softer, like it was being mortally wounded by the innocent bell with the high pitch.
“Auuuu…” The siren-woman matched the bell’s pitch in her clear piercing soprano, and that was enough to make the beast actually turn tail and run away.
I almost couldn’t believe my eyes, and I stared at the clouds of dust the creature kicked up in its haste to get away.
Then Rylan moaned and snapped me out of my daze.
“Boooooy?” Ozzy asked as he lumbered over, and he was in the midst of picking off the rest of the sticky strings from the web-wad.
“I don’t--” Rylan gasped and coughed up some more foamy blood.
“Ry,” I said and quickly set him back down on his side in case he was going to vomit.
“Small One…” The woman came closer, but I shot her a fierce glare that made her stop in her tracks.
“What did you do to him?” I demanded.
She blinked her maroon-colored eyes in confusion, and a frown creased her delicate eyebrows.
“What… do?” she asked and knelt down a few feet away.
“The curse,” I spat as Rylan huffed and wheezed while I rubbed his back. More sputum came out of his mouth as he coughed weakly. “It’s why you brought us. To help you. So, here we are, dammit. Now, please, tell me what I need to do to repay my debt.”
“Muuu…” the woman vocalized sadly and shuffled closer on her knees. “Ry-lan.”
“Yeah,” I croaked as I watched some of the icy exterior melt from her frigid frame, and she slowly approached us with her hand outstretched, and her maroon eyes shimmering with tears.
Seeing her obvious remorse was the only reason I let her stroke her fingers through Rylan’s hair.
“Not… mean to happen,” she said and met my eyes. Hers were dark with sorrow, and her tears flowed freely down her shiny cheeks. “Not mean to hurt.”
“Then help him,” I demanded through gritted teeth.
She nodded and snatched her hand back so she could wipe away the moisture from her face.
“Come,” she said and leaped to her feet. She gestured with her hands that we should follow her, and I pulled Rylan back up and hurried after her as fast as I could with Ozzy at my side.
The rest of the way out of the forest was spent in anxious silence, and the thumping of my son’s head against my chest reminded me of how limp and weak he felt, almost as if he’d lost ten pounds overnight.
Even Crackers was worryingly quiet and docile as he glided overhead, and when we finally broke through the tree line, I couldn’t even appreciate the vast lilac plains of this new world.
I was a little preoccupied with the armload of trouble I currently didn’t know how exactly to handle on top of-- oh, yeah. Everything else under the sun.
A structure became visible as we made it over a low rise, and a manor in dire need of repairs came into view. The roof was in a sorry state of pitch and missing shingles, and when we got closer, I could see how the entire building was situated on the edge of a large lake that looked like it used to be a crater. Several large and weathered beams were haphazardly anchored into the lake-shore below in order to prop up and support the manor, so I guessed over time as the cliff eroded, the foundation under the structure became unstable, and instead of rebuilding somewhere else, more and more beams kept being added.
“That’s where you live?” I couldn’t help but blurt out as she led us to a path that clearly led to the sorry cesspool.
“Come,” she said like nothing was out of the ordinary, but she stopped briefly so she could pick a sharp pebble from the sole of her bare foot.
It was then I noticed not only was the house in a sorry state, but so was this woman who claimed to live here. Unlike her goddess-like appearance when I first saw her in the Dark Realm, in the real world, the Lakuna-child’s indigo hair was disheveled, and she wore tattered rags that were no more than a scrap of brown cloth wrapped around her upper half like a tube top and a loincloth made of the same worn material. She wore no shoes, and when the wind moved her hair off her neck, I could see several knobs of her vertebrae through her skin.
She… really did need help.
Had needed help for quite a while, it seemed.
“I’llll waaaaait.” Ozzy gestured to the area right next to the rickety wooden stairs leading up to the crooked house’s entrance.
“Probably a good idea, Bubba,” I said as I hefted Rylan higher up in my arms. I was afraid if we even looked at the stairs wrong they might collapse.
“Inside!” the woman said down at me from where she was already halfway up to the house, and I hurried to follow her as best as I could while holding a lanky teenager.
When I managed to get us both into the cramped and cluttered house, I followed her to the small galley, where she gestured to a small pallet bed set up next to the hearth.
It was clear this was where she spent most if not all of her time, like some poor scullery maid.
“Thank you,” I grunted when she helped me tuck probably her only blanket around my son. “For letting us stay.”
“He come, and you come,” she said as searched through the small kitchen space, and then she came back with a clean cloth she dampened and placed on the kid’s brow.
I dragged a small stool closer to the small cot and flipped the cloth when it was warmed up by his skin.
He was as still and as silent as a grave, and I put my head in my hands as I listened to his labored gasps.
“Small One…” the woman hummed and then shook out a pretty green blanket she was obviously trying to keep in one piece, so the gesture of her extending it to Rylan wasn’t lost on me.
“Why do you call him Small One?” I asked as she tucked the edges under the pale teen’s shivering form.
“We three,” she began and held up three fingers to demonstrate. “Ry-lan, Mozz, Nova. All.”
“You know Mozz as well?” I asked and then cleared my throat. “And your name is Nova?”
“Nova,” she confirmed and pointed at herself. Then she pointed at me. “Al-ex Bri’ood.”
“Close,” I said with a weary smile. “Brightwood.
I looked deep into her eyes for a moment before she ducked and pulled a sheaf of papers out from under the cot.
“Ry-lan,” she said again and handed me the papers.
“What are these?” I asked as I skimmed the ones on top, and my face fell when I read about Rylan and his father, Kavo.
There were also some brief sketches of Rylan in his canterfly form, but before I could read more, Nova put more papers on top that briefly talked about Mozz and her in relation to Krev Alda, Kavo’s brother.
“You and Mozz are related as half-sisters?” I asked as I continued to skim the pages. Eventually, there was some talk about all three of these Dark Realm children and their unique gifts, but the papers kept coming as Nova kept pulling them out from under her bed.
The new stack had a lot of back and forth with Krev and a guy who kept calling himself Yates, but it wasn’t until I saw an official seal with the title of Overseer next to Yates that I knew what the man’s role was.
Nova then pointed at a letter from Yates and then jabbed that same finger down at a letter from Krev.
“Yes, they were talking,” I said with a little frustration. “So?”
Nova shook her head with an equal amount of agitation.
“Yates, Krev,” she said.
“Yates and Krev…” I repeated.
“No,” she tried again. “Yates, Krev.”
“She is trying to tell you Yates is Krev,” a cold voice said from the doorway to the scullery and caused both Nova and I to jump to our feet.
The man standing there was balding and mild-mannered looking on the outside, but something about his muddy-brown eyes lacked any signs of warmth or light. His skin rippled slightly, almost like a snake skin would undulate from time to time as it digested a large meal.
That was an apt description of the man standing in front of me now with the same seal of the Overseer pinned to his cloak. The way his skin sagged around the cheeks when he attempted a flat smile looked as if someone was just wearing the man as a body suit.
“That’s impossible,” I said to the stranger. “Krev Alda is dead.”
“Are you absolutely sure about that?” he said as he slowly walked closer.
Then it clicked.
Krev Alda was a known shape-shifter.
A shape-shifter who apparently faked his death and was now masquerading as the Overseer.
“You’re Krev, and you’ve been stealing Duelist identities for Mercedes’ only knows how long,” I surmised.
“Oh, good for you.” The man with Yates’ face smiled a twisted smile that made his stolen face wrinkle and bunch. Then, like a rubber band snapping back into place, his smile dropped, and he pulled out what looked like a double-barrel crossbow. “Now, leave the brat on the bed, and we can all finish this little chat outside.”
Chapter 23
Yates-Krev forced Nova and me out of the house with the point of his deadly crossbow until we were walking back down the path where we’d left Ozzy.
The poor guy was bound and gagged with some rope, and I wondered just how in the world this man who was actually shorter than me by a couple of inches managed to sneak up on the sloth-man and tie him down.
We were forced to pass him by, and I sent him what I hoped was received as an apology with my eyes.
“That’s far enough,” Yates-Krev said when he marched us down to the lake shore almost directly under the rickety structure above us. “You know, little Nova, I must thank you for delivering my brother’s whelp to me. It’s a little sooner than I had planned, but Rylan will make a good addition, especially after I get rid of you, you onerous pest.”
“You… brought Rylan into a trap?” I asked the siren-woman.
“No!” she gasped and wrung her pale-green hands. “Never for trap! Only for bring out… weapon.”
“Aw, you thought you could use Rylan to what? Conjure you a blade to slit my throat in my sleep?” Yates-Krev spat. “Or maybe a poison you could sprinkle onto my morning meal, yes? You always did think you were so clever.”
Now, Nova was actively sobbing as she sank down to her knees in a low keening wail that seemed to pierce me right in my heart.
“Nooo,” she sobbed as her plan for freedom seemed to deteriorate before her very eyes.
“It’s not the first time my own daughter has tried to kill me, you know,” Yates-Krev looped me into the conversation as if we were two dads at a barbecue talking about their unruly children. “It’s truly disappointing, as I’m sure you know. It was noble of you to take in my brother’s maligned offspring, but you can stop pretending it’s such an easy cross to bear. We both know how disgustingly needy children can be. In fact, if you leave me Rylan without a fight, then I will let you go this time.”
“This time?” I sneered. “Generous of you.”
“It is, trust me,” Yates-Krev suddenly snapped, and his overly familiar and nonchalant tone from before vanished as he pulled a chain out from under his tunic. On the end of it were four to five blackened Duelist Stones amid the one currently shining its soft light. “Do you think I got all of these by asking? No. I saw what I wanted, and I took it by absorbing their essences until there was nothing left. And that is what I will do to you.”
Absorbing essences? That was what this Traveler could do? That was fucking terrifying, but I made sure to tamp down my unease and pulled out my cocky Asher arrogance routine that seemed to serve me well in these situations.
“You aren’t going to challenge me to a Duel?” I asked.
“Didn’t you just hear?” the man snarled. “I don’t need to do that to drain your essence.”
“Essence, schmessence,” I said, complete with a flippant hand gesture. “Who cares about that when you can actually gain a status for real?”
“Why would I need that?” Yates-Krev scoffed, but I saw him shift on his feet, and it must have been an Alda family tell, because I knew I’d seen that same move from Rylan.
“For one, you would have a true Asher status that doesn’t have all that bad karma associated with you sucking the essences out, or whatever,” I said with a shrug. “Aventoll has a way of exacting her debt, as I’m sure you’ve come to realize over the years.”
Yates-Krev’s jaw twitched, and the sallow skin on his face moved grotesquely. “I could drop Yates.”
He said this last part aloud, but I didn’t draw attention to the fact.
If his “crazy” really was starting to spring a leak, I needed to help encourage it along.
“Last I heard, even Kavo was gunning for a proper Duelist Stone,” I said and glanced down at my nails.
“You lie,” he accused.
Which, yeah, no shit, but he didn’t need to know that, so I merely shrugged.
“You Duel me, and you don’t have to force anyone to give you anything.
His eye drifted upward to where my son was still sleeping in the cot inside the house, and even though I didn’t know what he was planning with Rylan, if I could just get him to take the bait, then I wouldn’t need to know until later.
After he was dead.
“And that would be one up on my bastard of a brother.” Krev’s toothy smile stretched across his sagging face, and I tried not to grin back when it was clear he was falling for the bait. “Alex Brightwood, I challenge you to a Duel.”
He spoke the words with conviction, and by doing this, he unwittingly bound himself into the Rite of the Duel.
Come hell or high water.
It had been a while back when I was first finding my Duelist legs, but I remembered something about dire curse consequences if he didn’t go through with his promise after invoking the Rite.
Although, now that the man was warmed up to the idea, that didn’t look like it would be a problem.
“Okay,” I said, and we began to circle one another as battle foes.
“Now, pick the weapon of choice for this Duel, Brightwood,” the man sneered. “If you have any.”
I was up shit creek without a blade, but I’d also recently stumbled across a really cool trick.
“I’m afraid all I can really fight you with is what I have brought along in my pockets,” I said. “So, we will fight with whatever we both have on us.”
“Very well,” Yates-Krev said, and he flicked the safety off his crossbow at the same time as I brought out the little handbell from my pocket. “Prepare to die.”
He placed the stock of the crossbow into the crook of his shoulder and aimed his sight down the barrel, and I plunged down deep into that inner well where my time power was stored.
After the most recent debacle in the forest, I was kind of scraping the bottom of the barrel on what reserves I had left, but that was okay because I only needed to hold the trance for a second…
Tick.
My opponent’s finger moved over the trigger at the same time as the world began to slow down.
Tick.
The bolt flew from his crossbow like it was traveling through thick ballistics jelly, and before the trance had a chance to settle, I pushed a little harder until I could feel the tenuous tremor of that “soap bubble.”
The bolt slowed even more until it barely looked like it was moving at all, and I could feel the edge where it almost became a time-stop like it did before in the forest. Then I tried my hardest to replicate what occurred with the spiny-beasts by visualizing a funnel of sound that a certain pitch could be condensed down to.
