Bloodwalk - James P. Davis [77]
Her voice trailed away into nonsense, mere mumblings as the pain of mortal wounds slid like burning ice through her body.
Morgynn knelt closer, shaking with baleful animosity, to reach her mother's ear. "No. You didn't kill her." She kept her voice soft, soothing.
Kaeless squinted, trying to make out the dark blur against the lightening sky, trying to identify that familiar voice. She held her breath, waiting for that woman to speak again, to absolve her soul of wrongdoing.
"She isn't dead." Morgynn reached out to stroke her mother's matted hair, leaning in and whispering, "She is damned."
Morgynn's hand clamped over Kaeless's nose and mouth, foregoing magic or dagger so she could feel the life ebb between her fingers. In moments, her mother's eyes glazed over, her trembling stopped, and the battle was over.
A chant arose among the Gargauthans in the blasted field, a prayer to their devil-god. Morgynn heard them, but did not listen. She sat and stared at the hands she had felt melting away in a grave of ooze as demons had bargained over her soul. A gust of the north wind blew across the small hill, and she marveled at the gooseflesh that arose along arms covered in scars and blood.
* * * * *
Panting, Morgynn awoke. Recognizing her surroundings, she rubbed her forehead and her eyes, trying to clear the fog. The plains and the Sedras camp were gone, replaced by her chamber atop the tower of Jhareat. The dreams had ended.
Morgynn sat on the edge of the divan, bent at the waist, rubbing her temples and shutting out the phantom noises of her awakening. Khaemil was nearby; she felt the vial of his blood at her belt stir and churn. He could wait. She sat still for a long time, trembling as her emotions ran amok. No matter how much she slept, she always awoke exhausted.
* * * * *
Morgynn descended the stairs carefully, weary from dreaming too long. Near the bottom, she heard voices outside. Talmen's was one-his voice and emotions were known to her through the connection she'd forged on his forearm. Khaemil was the other. She stopped to listen before revealing herself. Tracing a finger lightly on the wall and whispering a spell, the stone became as clear as glass so she could watch them, though they could not see her.
"She sleeps still?" Talmen asked.
"No, she has awakened. Her screams stopped only moments ago."
"Ah, then she has rested. Good. Matters are grim enough without having to worry about her judgment."
Khaemil turned away from Talmen, facing the wall, smiling and shaking his head.
"Did you honestly think you would come to this point and not have your precious life threatened by some enemy? Or would you prefer that we choose a more fitting location for your Order, some place uninhabited and far away, perhaps?"
"I am no coward, shapechanger. My only fear is that our ambitions may exceed our ability. We have traveled across half of Faerыn, growing in numbers but dwindling in prospects. Any reservations I have concerning this one are well founded, I assure you."
Khaemil smirked and looked sidelong at Talmen.
"Your doubts will mark you, human. Leave them behind when we march or they will pierce your flesh and put your body in the grave where your mind already rests." He looked back to the tower's entrance as Morgynn appeared. "This, I assure you."
Morgynn stood with her fingertips pressed to her temples. Her eyes were closed as she walked, but her form was straight and her step was sure. Despite the lingering distress of her nightmare, she was confident in her bearing.
Talmen and Khaemil parted as she neared and passed between them. Her hands slowly left her aching head. Stretching her neck in a spasm that helped to separate physical action and wild emotion, she opened her eyes and beheld the monstrous troops that lay waiting on the field of stone. Although few in number compared to the garrison she hoped to command one day, the nature of the minions would be both horrific and daunting to any enemy.
"I commend you,