Chapter Thirty

Bring Me A War

Alyssa woke to find herself in the Healer’s Quarter, with Nyla in the corner, busying herself with foreign vials and containers.

‘Agh,’ Alyssa groaned, sat up in bed, and was hit with an immediate regret, her hands shooting up to cover her head. ‘Do you possess anything for the removal of pain? My head feels like it has been in a metal breastplate and clanged over and over.’

Nyla turned around and, as usual, she wore a kind smile. She picked up one of the vials on the desk and approached her. Inside was the pink liquid she’d given Savannah weeks prior. She handed this to Alyssa, who drank it in one.

‘That is good,’ Alyssa said, closing her eyes and enjoying the taste. The pressure and pain in her head eased, before disappearing two minutes later.

Alyssa grimaced and sunk back onto the pillow. Dressed in a thin top and shorts, her legs and arms were visible. She examined these, taking particular interest in the fresh scars coating them, intersecting the ones that were already there. More trophies of war.

She racked her brains for the memory but came up empty. ‘W-what happened?’

Nyla sat on the edge of Alyssa’s bed, careful to avoid her legs and feet. ‘Manuel brought you here. He... did not provide me with anything near a complete account. He told me that you saved many lives, and something about an execution. Are you experiencing memory loss? How severe is it?’

‘Give me a second, it will return.’

‘If it does, it is likely an effect of the sedative I had to use. You were… not gravely, but seriously wounded. Walk me through the events, as and when they come back to your memory. It can help counter the effects, putting your brain to work in that fashion.’

Alyssa knotted her brow. ‘Erm… well… Manuel and I had a contract… Sanhiel gave us it? Yes, yes, that is correct, because we went to see my family… something about vampires… but I did not wish to kill them and they were sentenced for execution, so… I think I persuaded Manuel to help me save them… we did… we fought with some soldiers, then managed to get away… Nhelqas was there…’

Alyssa gasped and clutched her face. ‘Oh, gods, Nhelqas was there. The crowd of people, his people, they were in the way of him and the soldiers. So he massacred them. Holy Nuntra…

I could not let that stand… so I sent the vampires and Manuel away and jumped back into the fray. The soldiers were no match, but there were so many… I remember some of their blades landing and leaving wounds… and then I reached Nhelqas and overpowered him. I… executed him… then it all goes fuzzy… the last thing I remember is somebody picking me up… then everything is black.’

Nyla was crying. This reaction was no surprise to Alyssa, nor was it the first time she’d witnessed it. Nyla hated these despicable acts. ‘That was Manuel. He brought you back here, and I healed you.’

‘He came back for me?’ Alyssa mumbled, her mouth ajar.

‘That he did. Even if the odds were a million to one, he would never have left you there.’

‘And the vampires?’ Alyssa said, desperate to move the conversation along in order to ignore the appreciative, swelling sensation in her heart.

‘Safe. We treated the older one quickly - the wound inflicted upon her was much worse than any of yours, but, strangely, the blood had stopped flowing from it and it didn’t seem to affect her. The others appeared fine. Manuel took them home when the old vampire was back to full health, I believe.’

‘That will be because she had fed, but that is a memory I do not wish to relive,’ Alyssa shuddered. ‘Where is Manuel? Can I see him?’

‘I do not believe so. He is not here. They are still awaiting his return from escorting the vampires home, I believe. They must have ended up in trouble, or maybe he has elected to stay with them for a time. Or the journey is arduous.’

‘How long ago did he leave?’ Alyssa sat up again, urgency crowding her voice.

‘Er – two weeks ago, roughly.’

‘Shit,’ Alyssa swung her legs out of bed and stood despite Nyla’s protests.

Alyssa swayed, the room swimming. She took a tentative step, then another, taking each with caution until her vision cleared. When she was certain she was no longer in danger of passing out, she turned to Nyla again.

‘Give me something for the fatigue and dizziness. How long does the pink liquid last?’

Nyla wrung her hands. ‘Alyssa, you cannot leave in this state. Excessive physical acti-’

‘Just answer the question!’

Nyla looked down, hurt. ‘Normally, twenty hours, but that applies when the patient is bed-bound. With activity, depending on how strenuous, I’d estimate six.’

‘And something for the fatigue?’

Nyla walked over to the bench and returned with a vial containing a pretty, glittering, thick blue liquid. ‘This should suffice for the same amount of time. Possibly longer.’

Alyssa took the vial and drank it in one, too. She could feel it spread through her bloodstream, bringing vigour to her aching muscles. She felt like she could run several marathons. ‘Thank you. And my clothing and weapons?’

‘Returned to your rooms when we changed you. Cleaned, by now, of course.’

‘Beautiful.’ Alyssa made her way out but stopped when she reached the door, delayed by a sudden surge of guilt. She turned back to Nyla, who’d returned to her workstation. Her form was slumped and her movements unenergetic. All Nyla had done was help her, and Alyssa had bitten her head off quicker than a snake would swallow a mouse.

‘Nyla, I apologise. I did not mean to snap. That was not fair of me. Thank you for tending to me, I will not forget it.’

Nyla didn’t turn around, but Alyssa saw her head nod. Taking that as acceptance and dismissal, Alyssa ran from the room, straight into the Assassin’s Quarter. Elianna tried to halt her about something so insignificant it didn’t register, but Alyssa shook her off and charged up the stairs, stopping for nothing and no one until she reached her room. She nearly took the door off the hinges when she barrelled into it.

A minute later, Alyssa was in her full Assassin’s armour – red, gold, and black; both lightweight and sturdy, making it good for defence and offence; though, she hoped she’d need neither on this occasion. Strapped to her back were her weapons of choice: two lengthy, blacksteel swords with curved red hilts. In every holster – two on her belt, one on each of her upper arms, and another pair just above her ankles – were long-bladed daggers.

It never hurt to be prepared. Not when the potential adversary was the Baobhan Sith.

She knew that better than anyone.

*

Alyssa appeared within the ring of flowers outside the cabin sheltering the Baobhan Sith’s fortress, in the full knowledge that had she not done so, and crossed the line by foot without permission, her body would seize up and for hours movement would be impossible. Additionally, it would have alerted the Baobhans to her presence. While this would happen regardless, it was a nonsensical alternative at this moment.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Alyssa rushed into the cabin and wrenched open the trapdoor. Determined not to lose any time, she swung herself onto the ladder and yanked the trapdoor shut over her in one movement, plunging herself into absolute darkness. She gripped the sides of the ladder, pulled her legs off the rung so they dangled, then slid down. This trip was a mile long and doing it this way was reckless if you’d never accomplished it before. Fortunately, she had.

Alyssa reached the bottom in record time. Taking no time to stand on ceremony, she ran for it, covering the distance of the tunnel faster than the torches could light. When she reached the blast doors, she was shrouded in darkness, although this would fail to shield her from the visibility of the Baobhan guards.

As if to prove her point, the red-headed one called out, ‘I never expected to bear witness to your return to this facility, Alyssa.’

‘Who is it?’ the other guard, a lanky brunette, asked.

Alyssa caught the redhead’s grin. ‘She used to have a fair amount of power within our little group.’

‘What, she’s one of us?’

Alyssa laughed. ‘Of course not. I cannot imagine many things worse than that, and I have seen significantly more horrors than you will in your lifetime.’

The redhead maintained her wicked grin. The torches on either side now lit up, bathing her angular features in flickering shadows. ‘To what do we owe the honour? I take it it’s a business trip, given your… attire.’ She ran her eyes up and down Alyssa’s form, admiring her armour with her head tilted.

‘Open the doors and move out of my way.’

The brunette took a step back, while the redhead laughed. ‘We’re not going to do that without good reason. I ask aga-’

As fast as lighting, Alyssa whipped a sword from her back and pressed it to the redhead’s throat. ‘Let me in, or I will kill you. I do not want to, but all I need is a reason. Do not give me that reason.’

The redhead froze. She gulped. The brunette didn’t give her a chance to respond. She went over to the door mechanism and it heaved open, creaking and clunking all the way.

There went the element of surprise.

Alyssa made no movement. Nor did the redhead. Then, the redhead raised her hands and backed away, her features flushed, freckles popping. Alyssa pulled the sword back and looked away.

She slammed the hilt into the redhead’s chin. She slumped to the ground, unconscious. Alyssa turned to the brunette, who backed away further.

‘Move from this spot, you get the same treatment. Close these doors before I depart, you get the same treatment. Got it?’

The brunette nodded multiple times in rapid succession. Alyssa moved into the facility.

She passed the tapestries, which for such a long time had held a reverence in her mind. To the young Alyssa, these were depictions of a once proud and courageous race. Something she could aspire to emulate. When the truth of their savagery had been exposed to her, this opinion changed, leading her to doubt all the historical prestige she’d come to believe the Baobhans had possessed.

She should have come to this conclusion quicker, in retrospect, she thought as she passed the experimentation rooms. She didn’t linger long, taking a short moment of introspection no longer than two seconds as she passed each room. She persevered to the end of the corridor, passing Baobhans everywhere along the way. Not one stopped her. All stared, but none made a move. She attributed this to her expression – one of murderous determination.

Alyssa took the stairs two at a time, bypassing the second floor to avoid the Sithe. Carrying on down the steps, she heard a voice call out behind her, and stopped dead.

‘Alyssa? What in the sanctity of the Rever-Kaer are you doing here?’

Alyssa turned and headed back up the steps. She stopped at the end of the corridor, where Rhea and Novalea, in their sweeping black robes, were approaching her with caution. Rhea’s hair was tied back and intricately held by shining beads; Novalea’s cascaded down her pale cheeks, supported by a delicate, simple, golden crown.

‘I ask again, what are you doing here?’ Rhea asked, scanning Alyssa’s full form, just like the redheaded guard. She was warier than her compatriot, keeping her distance.

‘Where is Manuel?’

Rhea’s brow grew a discrete crease, but Novalea’s reaction was more telling. She blanched and came forward. ‘He didn’t return?’

Alyssa shook her head. ‘I thought you would know more. The last report was he escorted you, the twins, and the Matron home. He has not been heard from since.’

‘That bitch,’ Rhea spat. She stalked past Alyssa and charged down the stairs, wearing an expression similar to Alyssa’s. Novalea and Alyssa followed, the latter’s fury replaced somewhat by curiosity.

They reached the second set of guarded blast doors. ‘Her highness is not to be disturbed, Rhea,’ the first said.

‘Open those doors. Now.’

The guards quailed and did as they were bid. As the doors opened, the trio barged through.

Novalea gasped. Alyssa faltered. Rhea was unfazed by the sight before her.

Manuel was nailed to a wooden cross, blood pouring from his hands. It did the same from his feet, gathering in a small pool beneath them. His only clothing was his underwear, and those rippling, tanned muscles were a mass of crisscrossing cuts intersecting the scars that had been there for centuries.

‘What is the meaning of this interruption?!’ the Matron shrieked like a vulture, turning, her nostrils flaring and fangs bared (the latter were stained red at the points). In her right hand, she gripped a curved dagger that dripped with blood. The sleeves of her robes were rolled up and her lower arms were streaked with the same. Her sharp cheeks and nose were splattered with red dewdrops.

Alyssa moved in front of Rhea, while Novalea sprinted over to Manuel. She pulled the nails from his hands and feet, muttering words Alyssa couldn’t catch.

Alyssa retrieved both swords from their sheaths on her back. Her gaze never left the Matron. ‘Hello, grandmother.’

The Matron’s insanity retreated, replaced by a blank look. A wall would have been more expressive. ‘I did not expect to see you again. Much less did I expect you to save my life. I thank you for that.’

Alyssa was thrown by this blasé comment. ‘I-It very much appears that was a waste of my time. What is the meaning of this?’

Alyssa gestured at Manuel, whom Novalea led from the room. Novalea took most of his weight – his eyelids were drooping, he moved like a doddery old man who’d misplaced his cane, and he clutched at her for support. She guided him one baby step at a time, her eyes brimming.

‘Oh,’ the Matron twiddled the knife in her hands. ‘Just a... spot of torture. Nothing too violent. I merely wanted information.’

Alyssa grimaced. ‘You were torturing my friend! You are fortunate that I failed to kill you the last time I left here! I assure you,’ her voice turned ice cold. ‘I won’t be making that mistake this time, grandmother.’

Alyssa turned to Rhea. ‘Rhea, you are now the Matron of this clan. The responsibility for the welfare of the Baobhan Sith is yours, to protect and defend for the rest of your days. Do you accept?’

Rhea didn’t look at Alyssa. Rather, she glared at the Matron. ‘I do.’

‘Leave, now. Inform the others.’

Rhea took one last hateful glance at the Matron, then left the room. The doors slammed shut behind her.

The Matron leaned back against the table, fidgeting with her knife. ‘So. This is how my life ends, is it? At the hands of one of my kin?’

Alyssa stepped forward. ‘So it would seem. You have no one to blame but yourself.’

‘Perhaps. But, you kill me, and you will never know the truth of your birth.’

Alyssa’s rage reignited; having witnessed her grandmother use these diversionary tactics before, she knew how this went. The Matron hooked her attacker in with a baseless statement, then went in for the kill herself.

‘I should have let Nhelqas kill you.’

The Matron sighed. When she looked at Alyssa again, there was a glint in her eye and a grin on her face. ‘Your error. Not mine.’

The knife flew at her. Alyssa dodged to the left, parrying with her left sword. The two blades came together with a clang. The Matron followed the blade, charging at Alyssa. Fangs bared, her hands gripped Alyssa’s shoulder. She lunged for Alyssa’s jugular.

Alyssa slammed a knee into the Matron’s groin. Her eyes widened and she gasped. Alyssa followed this with a headbutt. The Matron reeled back while stars flashed in Alyssa’s vision.

The Matron hurled herself at Alyssa, those fangs desperate to tear into her flesh. Alyssa rolled out of reach of the fangs, but the claw-like fingernails raked her cheek, leaving deep gashes. As Alyssa came out of the roll, she dragged her right sword up with her, claiming the Matron’s left hand. The Matron squawked, and Alyssa repeated the movement with her left sword, severing the Matron’s right hand. The Matron stumbled. Alyssa’s blades rose again.

The Matron’s head fell to the ground with a squelch. Her eyes rolled back into her skull and closed. The rest of her body followed her head down. It thudded on the floor. Blood leaked out onto the stone from the stump at her neck.

Alyssa took several moments to regain her breath. When she had done so, she observed the form of her grandmother, now lying in a pool of its own blood.

The Matron’s words echoed in her mind. You’ll never know the truth of your birth. What if that hadn’t been just a diversion? What if there was something she was unaware of?

Alyssa shook her head. She knew all she needed to know about her life. The rest was irrelevant, whether her grandmother had lied or not.

She strode from the room, leaving the gaping vampires to witness the mess they would have to clean up.