Chapter 20 – On the Hunt
The pursuit of Zaphyr and Zull’s kidnapper dragged on through one day, then a second, then a third. The whole time, Sir Kyr remained entirely focused on his single-minded hunt, speaking of little else. Whenever they weren’t actively riding, he retreated off by himself to quietly brood. The knight had to be coaxed into eating or drinking anything, and both nights of their journey Vard had awoken several times to find Sir Kyr pacing around their camp anxiously. Now, as it drew near noon and he rode alongside the taciturn knight once more, Vard reached out, desperate to help his friend if he could.
“You shouldn’t worry so much, Sir Kyr,” Vard said reassuringly. “We’ve ridden as fast as we possibly could. We’re doing everything in our power. We will catch up with the twins, we’ll defeat Alys, and we will save them both.”
“And what if we’re too late?” Sir Kyr snapped back. “What if we arrive, only to find a pair of corpses?”
Vard blanched at the thought, but pressing on, said, “Sir Kyr, you’re worrying yourself over nothing. So long as we have the trail of blood to follow, then they must still be alive.”
“No,” Sir Kyr said gruffly. “All it means is that they were alive when they left the last marking we’ve seen.” Regardless, he seemed somewhat mollified by the assurance, and relaxed his posture somewhat, though not entirely, in his riding saddle.
Finding the blood trail on the first evening of their pursuit had been the biggest boon that they had received during their hunt. When Sir Kyr had first caught the scent of Zaphyr and Zull’s blood in the air, he had broken into a gallop, terrified that they were already too late to save the twins’ lives. They had initially been confused to find only a single small, arrow-shaped stain of blood on a rock beside the trail, until Vard, in a moment of insight, realized that the twins were using their hemomancy to aid their pursuers.
After that, the trail had become much easier to follow, as Sir Kyr’s keen senses, allowing him to pick out the scents of Zull and Zaphyr’s blood even amidst the rest of the forest, led them from marker to marker, each of which then pointed them in the proper direction to the next. Even Argus Vyle had admitted that, if it hadn’t been for the twins’ markers, as winding as the kidnapper’s trail had proven, they may well have lost them.
In the present, Argus Vyle rode up alongside Vard and Sir Kyr. The bandit lord was almost as entirely focused on their task as Sir Kyr had been, though he rode back occasionally to encourage his men and make sure that they were doing well. The warlord adjusted his helm, then said, “Sir Kyr, how close are we?”
“We’re gaining on Alys, slowly but steadily,” Sir Kyr said curtly. “It should be in the next couple of hours, by sunset at the very latest.”
“Understood,” Argus Vyle said, guiding his horse in a circle to face backwards. “I’ll ride back and tell the men to ready themselves. What should we expect?”
“I’ve only smelled Alys’ scent so far, but I doubt that they will be alone, unarmed, or unprepared. If I had to guess, we are facing at least one hemomancer, and quite possibly…other foes as well.”
Vard wanted to press Sir Kyr for more information, but Argus Vyle accepted all of this with a nod of his head and rode back to the rest of his men following a short distance behind. Once he was out of earshot, Vard shot an accusing glance at Sir Kyr, before saying, “You know something.”
“I know quite a few things,” Sir Kyr said flatly.
Vard sighed with exasperation. “You know what I meant, Kyr. You know something about this ‘Alys,’ something that you aren’t telling the rest of us.”
Sir Kyr’s ears fell flat against the side of his head, and he bared his teeth in a grimace. “I don’t know anything for certain, Vard. I merely…suspect a great deal.”
“Well?” Vard pressed. “If you have suspicions, don’t hold them from the rest of us. If we’re going to save the twins, then the rest of us need to know exactly what we will be facing.”
With a defeated sigh, Sir Kyr said, “From the moment I spotted her, something seemed…familiar about Alys. Her face was unknown to me, and I had only heard the person I think she may be talk on a handful of occasions, but she stunk of blood and twisted, malformed flesh. Hardly what you would expect a humble cook to smell of.”
“Hmm,” Vard said, considering what Sir Kyr was saying. “Then, who was she, do you think?”
“Sangue Phlegm,” Sir Kyr said, and even uttering the name aloud seemed to pain him.
“The…daughter of the hemomancer who tortured you?” Vard said incredulously. “What makes you think that?”
“I know from experience that she is quite skilled at brewing sleeping potions,” Sir Kyr said bitterly. “But more than that, this entire scheme…joining Argus Vyle’s forces, tampering with the camp’s food, all to steal the twins…it feels like the kind of plot that twisted fiend and her father would have concocted.”
Vard’s eyebrows drew together as he thought. “Wait. I thought you said that the children were kidnapped by minions of the Master.”
“I never said such a thing, though we both suspected as much.”
Vard’s eyes widened as he realized the implications of what Sir Kyr was saying. “But that would mean that Aldus Phlegm and his daughter are working for the Master…”
“Or, quite possibly, that Aldus Phlegm himself is the Master,” Sir Kyr said.
“But that’s insane,” Vard said, clutching his hands to the side of his head. “The odds against the very hemomancers who tortured you being the ones who kidnapped Zaphyr and Zull are tremendous!”
“Fate has a strange way of weaving together lives on repeated occasions,” Sir Kyr said. “Friends and foes are often destined to meet again, when neither suspects it.”
Vard whistled in amazement. “And you’re sure of this?”
“No,” Sir Kyr admitted. “But I feel quite strongly that this is the truth of the challenge we face.”
“Which means we will have to be very careful,” Vard said, thinking aloud. “Phlegm and his daughter, from what you’ve told me, are some of the most skilled and capable hemomancers alive today.”
“Indeed, they are both skilled and experienced, and could perform hemomantic rituals far beyond anything the twins are capable of,” Sir Kyr said. “Which is why we need to-”
Vard twisted in his saddle to look at Sir Kyr, who had fallen silent as he stared at one specific tree which he had reigned his horse in alongside. “What is it?” Vard asked, arching an eyebrow in curiosity.
Sir Kyr pointed wordlessly at a narrow, so small as to be almost unnoticeable, splotch of blood on the tree’s bark, roughly shaped like an arrow, pointing in the direction they had been riding in already.
“So?” Vard said. “We’ve been seeing their arrows for the past few days. It proves they are still alive, and that we are heading in the right direction. What makes this marking so fascinating to you in particular?”
Sir Kyr reached out and brushed a claw along the trunk, leaving a scratch mark in the bark. “It’s fresher,” he said.
Vard blinked. “What?”
Sir Kyr brought his claw up to his muzzle, smelling it carefully. “The blood smells fresher. It hasn’t had as long to dry. We’re closer than I thought. We might reach them within the hour.” He glanced back, then shouted, “Lord Vyle!”
The bandit lord galloped up alongside them, then, puffing slightly, said, “What is it?”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“We’ll reach the twins soon,” Sir Kyr said simply.
“Hah! We’ll show this Alys what happens to those who would humiliate me in my own forest,” Vyle said triumphantly. He raised a fist in the air, and the rest of his men clustered around them as he informed them of what Sir Kyr had discovered. The thieves cheered heartily, eager for the fight to come.
“What should we expect, Sir Kyr?” Argus Vyle asked the knight.
Sir Kyr looked around at the group as he thought. “With a group this size, we can’t expect to sneak up on the kidnappers. Rather, we should make our presence as known as possible. With a group this size, they may well be intimidated into simply returning the twins.”
“And if not, that’s where I come in,” Vyle said, grinning fiendishly as he did so.
“We may well be riding into a trap,” Sir Kyr cautioned.
“Oh, but that’s what makes it all the more fun,” Vyle retorted. “Come, let’s not keep the twins waiting.”
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Zull and Zaphyr had been experiencing pure misery for close to three days. Sangue drove them constantly, pushing them to ride further and faster, haranguing them all the while. Though she had appeared silent at Vyle’s camp, she had now proven quite talkative, constantly belittling and taunting the gagged twins. Despite this, or perhaps because of her focus on tormenting them, she did not notice the small markers that both had been leaving behind, in the hopes of helping the pursuers they desperately wished were real. They had stopped to sleep several times, but even then Sangue would only allow them to sleep one at a time, holding the other hostage with her terrifying strength in turn. Despite her own lack of sleep, Sangue seemed as relaxed and energetic as ever, which the twins chalked down to whatever modifications had been done to her body.
At last, around noon on the third day, they arrived at their destination, a seemingly abandoned-looking cabin. They were at the very base of the twin fangs, and the cabin was situated in the valley between the two great mountains, the walls of granite on either side leaning inwards, as if threatening to fall and crush the cabin beneath their collective weight at any moment. A part of Zull wished that they would, and end all of them at that very moment. They rode into the valley, devoid of trees or seemingly any life beyond a pale lichen which grew along the cliff walls, the floor a loose shale which their horses stepped over, whinnying anxiously. Stopping before the cabin’s door, Sangue dismounted and knocked twice sharply. The door opened, revealing an elderly man with a stooped back and large pince-nez glasses perched on the tip of his nose. To the twins, he almost looked like a twisted reflection of their former mentor, Gerok.
“You’re back,” was all the old man said, his voice thin and reedy. He glanced past Sangue, seeing the twins, still sitting atop their horses, gags stuffed in the mouths of both. “Ah. I see you successfully acquired our prizes.”
Sangue smiled. “Enter,” she commanded the twins, who hastily dismounted and followed her into the cabin. Inside, the cabin was a one room affair, the only light coming through the open door behind them. A large, empty fireplace sitting in one corner, the ashes of a previous fire still evident. Aside from that, however, the cabin was as unlike a homely dwelling as could be imagined. There were a pair of beds pressed against one wall, across from which there was an improvised table for performing surgeries. Zull couldn’t help but note the white sheet and ropes that were undoubtedly used for tying down the victim in place while the operations were being performed. Besides this table there was a small wooden stand, atop which lay an empty candle stand and a collection of sharp tools, the purposes for which the twins could only guess at, which glistened in the afternoon light. The stench of blood and rotting flesh filled the air to the extent that Zaphyr and Zull both gagged, clutching at their stomachs. Several chunks of an unrecognizable meat were hung from hooks in the ceiling, festering and surrounded by clouds of swarming, buzzing flies. There were blood stains across the floors, walls, and practically everything in the cabin, including Aldus Phlegm’s own clothes. The only exception to this rule were Aldus’ tools, which he kept perfectly clean.
“Remove their gags,” Aldus Phlegm commanded his daughter.
Sangue did as ordered, and both twins breathed deeply, then nearly retched. “What is this place?” Zull asked, squeezing each word between choked gasps.
“My laboratory,” Aldus said proudly. “After Sir Kyr drove us out of Wyllshire, my daughter and I sought a new, isolated location. Somewhere we could perform our experiments without disruption. The Ar Goll Forest has proven perfect for this task.”
“You did all of this so you could make more abominations?” Zaphyr asked.
“Only someone uneducated in the true art of hemomancy would refer to them as ‘abominations,’” Aldus said, clearly offended. “What I am doing is perfecting humanity. Improving our strength, stamina, endurance. Taking from the animals what should have been ours by right.”
Zull’s eyes swept across the cabin’s horrific contents. “And so, you work for the Master simply to pay for this grand research?”
“Of course. I have no interest in the politics of Waed, or which arrogant fool sits on the throne,” Aldus said dismissively. “But with his funds I could create thousands of hybrids. And with each successful hybrid, I draw closer to a true breakthrough. To the new man. Even better, with two new assistants, my work will be able to progress at a far faster pace.”
Zull appeared quite skeptical. “You don’t think the Master will be suspicious when you have claimed to kill the two of us without evidence?”
“Oh, I will provide all the evidence he wishes,” Aldus said, grinning like a child explaining how they intended to torture a squirrel they had captured. “I’ve made quite the advancement in the study of warping and disguising human flesh in the past few months. Or did it not occur to you to ask how my daughter was able to work amidst Argus Vyle’s men, men who knew Sir Kyr quite well, without growing suspicious of who she really was? Did it not surprise you that Sir Kyr himself did not recognize Sangue?”
Zaphyr and Zull both studied Sangue more closely then. At last, it dawned upon Zull why her face appeared so unnatural to him. “You took her face…”
“And altered it. Perfected it,” Aldus confirmed. “It took several attempts, and several blood bindings to stabilize, but while I was rebuilding the rest of her body, I made sure her appearance was completely redone, to better help us hide our actions. Her facial structure is entirely different, even her vocal chords have been altered somewhat.”
Zull stared in fascinated horror at Sangue. “Surely all those adjustments…as unnatural as they are…must be agonizing. I can’t imagine going through that, every day, for the rest of my life.”
Sangue smiled once more, but there was a brittleness to the expression, and her eyes showed the fevered light of a rabid animal. “The pain is a small price to pay for the perfection and power I have received in return.”
Zaphyr finally lost her battle with the contents of her stomach and retched across the floor of the cabin, while their captors watched her, disinterested.
“I will have to clean that up at some point. Unsanitary,” Aldus said. He pulled out a pair of leather gloves and quickly donned them, gesturing for his daughter to do the same. “Did you dispose of that idiot Vyle and his followers?”
“No, merely incapacitated them,” Sangue said.
Aldus glared at his daughter. “Idiot! I gave specific instructions. How could you be so moronic?”
“Adjustments had to be made in the moment. The Master was not lying to us. The twins were guarded by Sir Kyr,” Sangue said. Aldus adjusted his pince-nez, watching his daughter closely as she continued. “I knew I didn’t have the physical strength to restrain him and bring him with me and the twins, but if I left him alive, his moronic sense of honor would compel him to track us down. So, he will arrive here, within the day I should imagine. He will bring himself, along with plenty of those bandits he considers his companions, right to our laboratory for you to experiment on.”
“Impressive,” Aldus admitted. “Two apprentices, and my lost masterwork all within my grasps? Quite the catch, for a single day.”
“We aren’t your apprentices, and we will never do what you say,” Zaphyr said, still kneeling, weak from her sickness. “And if you think that you can defeat Sir Kyr, you’re greatly mistaken.”
“Oh, sweet, foolish child,” Aldus said, grabbing Zaphyr roughly by the shoulder and forcing her to stand up. “What you want or don’t want doesn’t matter. With my hemomancy and knowledge of the human body, I can make you do whatever I please. You and your brother are my tools, nothing more. And if you try to resist, I will submit you to pain beyond what you can even imagine.”
Zaphyr struggled trying to break free, but Aldus’ iron grip pinned her in place.
“Leave her alone,” Zull demanded as he stepped forward to stop him, but Sangue struck him with the back of her hand, the blow strong enough to send him flying against the far wall of the cabin, which he struck before sinking to the ground, stunned, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth where he had been struck.
“I warned you, Zull. I told you my appearance wasn’t the only thing my father enhanced,” Sangue said smugly. “I’m a new woman. A better woman.”
“She’s a work in progress, but aren’t we all?” Aldus said, finally releasing Zaphyr’s shoulder, making her wince in pain. “Do what I say willingly and without complaint, and I may one day make you both as perfect as she is. Resist, and, well…,” he pointed to the chunks of flesh hanging from the ceiling. “I can always use you for my other experiments.”
“You’re a sick, vile, monster,” Zull said, wiping away the blood smearing his face with his own hand. “You’re a rabid animal, who needs to be put down before the disease spreads.”
Aldus smirked. “So you say, but so are all visionaries accused of being. When my new men rule the world, and the Master, the Empress, and wayward Sir Kyr are all nothing more but the footnotes in the annals of history, I will be remembered by all as the progenitor of the new age.”
Zull made eye contact with Zaphyr, and a silent understanding passed between them. They were the captives of a madman, and their only hopes lay in the timely arrival of Sir Kyr.
As if in answer to their thoughts, Sangue turned to look out the cabin door, eyes narrowing, her enhanced senses detecting something beyond the notice of the others.
“What is it?” Aldus demanded of his daughter.
“Riders,” she said. “Quite a few, in fact. They’re approaching the cabin.”
Aldus considered this, tapping the side of his pince-nez as he did so. “Fascinating. Sir Kyr has moved with far greater speed and precision than I had expected. To arrive here so quickly almost implies he knew where you were heading.” His gaze flicked to Zull and Zaphyr, but he said nothing further.
Sangue laughed, the sound like a bird getting its neck wrung. “It won’t change the outcome.”
“Correct,” Aldus said, turning his attention back to the twins. “Pay attention, my new apprentices. We are all about to take part in a new experiment, one which should prove quite enlightening for all of us.”