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Authors: Timothy L. Cerepaka

Tags: #sciencefiction fantasy, #sciencefantasy, #sciencefiction sciencefantasy, #sciencefiction fiction, #sciencefiction blended with fantasy in an appealing and pleasing way, #sciencefiction new release 2015

Alliance (27 page)

BOOK: Alliance
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Three minutes 'twas hardly enough time for
me to come up with a way out of this, but it was more than I
thought she would give me, so I intended to make every second of
that time count.

I looked around the room in which I stood,
looking for anything that could help me discover a third way out of
this predicament. Sadly, all I saw was the Smugglers surrounding me
on every side, looking eager to kill me, even though I knew not one
of them personally. Still, the Smugglers were a rotten bunch and
took any sort of betrayal as a personal slight against them, even
if the traitor in question was not intending for it to be
personal.

If only there was something I could do …
anything … but nay. It appeared as though I was indeed caught in a
tangle, unable to escape with mine life. The Founder of
Reunification would be terribly angry if I were to die, but what
else was I to do? Let these beasts kill mine brother? Nay, 'twas an
unthinkable idea.

Seeing as I could not think of any way out
of this situation alive, I pressed the tab on mine skyras sword
again, making its energy blade retract into it. I placed the weapon
at mine feet and kicked it toward Orelia in order to show the
Smugglers that I truly had no plans to fight back.


Very well,” I said,
looking at Orelia with as much hate as I could muster, for it was
all I could do now. “Ye can have me. Just spare mine
brother.”


The Red Ring Smugglers
always keep their word, Apakerec,” said Orelia as mine skyras sword
stopped at her feet. She snapped her fingers again. “Men, why don't
you give Apakerec a concrete display of the Smugglers' 'no
quitting' policy?”

Her fellow Smugglers did not even wait for
her to finish speaking before they began to advance on me. I would
have picked up mine sword and fought them all off if I had had my
sword, but I did not. All I could do was stand there and hope that
I would die under the first blow, as I did not wish to remain aware
of the sheer pain I was likely to experience when they took mine
life.

The Smugglers carried chains, knives, even
swords, and more than a few had brass knuckles that turned their
fists into the deadliest of weapons. Though all of them were
different species, 'twas obvious how each one was looking forward
to giving me the beating they believed I deserved for my crimes
against them.

I lowered mine head and closed mine eyes.
Still I could hear them approaching, smell the stink of super speed
wafting off their bodies and breath, listen as they grunted in
pleasure at the thought of killing me. I prayed a quick prayer to
the Old Gods to grant me protection from the Smugglers, though I
knew better than to expect it.

At that moment, however, the floor shook
under mine feet. 'Twas a subtle movement, one I barely felt, but
there was no mistaking it. However, I continued to think that it
might have simply been the combined weight and movement of the
Smugglers somehow making the floor shake when I remembered that the
floors of this mansion were extremely stable and could handle far
more weight than this before they would so much as stir.

Then the floor shook again and I opened
mine eyes and raised mine head. I was still surrounded on all sides
by the Smugglers, yet they had all stopped now and were looking
around the dimly lit room in confusion. Even Orelia was looked as
if she was not certain what was happening, which told me that this
was no trick of the Smugglers.


What was that?” said
Orelia, the tips of her ears twitching, a sign that she was losing
her cool. “An earthquake?”


Nay,” I said, shaking
my head. “Northern Se-Dela has not suffered an earthquake in well
over three centuries. I know not what this is.”

The floor shook once more, this time so
violently that I was nearly thrown off my feet. Some of the
Smugglers lost their footing and fell on their behinds, while
Orelia staggered over to the nearest desk and leaned against it for
support. Sura, meanwhile, moved not an inch in his chair, even
though a shake as violent as that should most certainly have
toppled his seat.


Must be a trick,” said
another Smuggler, the one in front of me. He pointed at me
accusingly. “He grew up here, didn't he? I bet he's doing something
to make the mansion shake so he can scare us.”


Foul villain, I am just
as ignorant of the true nature of this development as ye are,” I
said in annoyance. “Ye give me more credit than I would ever even
give to mine self.”


He's lying,” said the
Smuggler. He raised his knife at me, an evil smile spreading across
his lips. “And I know the best way to make this stop: Kill
him!”

The Smuggler leaped toward me with
frightening speed, his knife coming directly for mine throat. He
leaped too fast for me to react, but even if I could, I would not
have been able to stop his assault, for I was unarmed and
helpless.

But as it turned out, I did not need to
defend myself, for a large shadowy hand launched down from the
ceiling and snatched the Smuggler before he could harm me. The
Smuggler had only a moment to cry out in alarm before the hand
pulled him back up into the ceiling, where he vanished into the
shadows.

'Twas such an unexpected action that the
rest of the Smugglers stood back, fear covering each of their
faces. One of the Smugglers even turned and ran for the door, but
another shadowy hand shot out from the threshold, grabbed him, and
dragged him into the shadows kicking and screaming. His screaming
was cut off the minute he vanished in the darkness and we saw no
more of him.


What the hell is this
wizardry?” said Orelia. Her cool facade had dropped away completely
now; her eyes were wide, her ears twitching so fast that they were
almost a blur. She had drawn her own weapon now, an elven blade,
but she still resembled a frightened kitten more than a fearsome
criminal. “What is this? I don't—”

Another shadow hand extended from the
ceiling and grabbed at her, but Orelia slashed at it with her
sword. Unfortunately for her, however, her gesture was quite
meaningless, for her sword cut through the hand harmlessly,
allowing the shadow hand to grab her blade and yank it out of her
hands. The shadow hand immediately retracted back into the ceiling,
taking her shining elven sword with it.

That did seem to be the last straw for
many of her fellow Smugglers, for they dropped their weapons and
ran to the walls screaming in horror. They did beat their fists and
feet against the walls and door, making such racket that I could
barely hear myself think. One Smuggler, a dwarf, even tried to hide
under the sofa, although he was too fat and succeeded only in
hiding his head under it; 'twas a useless gesture, for another
shadow hand shot down from the ceiling and yanked him into the
darkness before he could utter even one more word.

Orelia dashed up to me and grabbed the
collar of my cloak. She brought my face up to hers, allowing me to
see her pale face and smell the stink of super speed on her breath.
Her eyes were slightly bloodshot, a common symptom of overuse of
super speed.


What's going on here?”
Orelia demanded. “Is this some kind of trick? What are you
doing?”


She-elf, in all of the
days I have lived here, I have never known my mansion could do
anything like this,” I said.

Another shadow hand shot down from the
ceiling and grabbed one of the Smugglers by the leg. The Smuggler
screamed so loudly that mine ears hurt before he was dragged
upwards into the ceiling, where his scream was cut off as abruptly
as that of the last screaming Smuggler who had been dragged into
the darkness.

Orelia let go of my collar and pushed me
back. She stepped back, fear crossing her elvish features, as she
said, “Your brother must know what's going on here.”

She turned and dashed over to my brother
before I could say another word. Sura was still unconscious and
still, but now it seemed more terrifying than sad, for I did not
understand how he could remain thus in the midst of all of this
chaos.

Orelia stopped in front of my brother and
raised his head with one hand. She then slapped him so viciously
that blood shot from his face onto the floor, which made me feel
quite ill indeed.


Wake up,” Orelia
demanded, her tone becoming increasingly hysterical. “Wake up, you
bastard. What's going on here? Tell me!”

Over Orelia's shoulder, I saw Sura's
non-swollen eye flicker open. He blinked it several times, but
rather than look around this place in fear and confusion, he
smiled.


Ye ask me what is going
on here, heretic?” said Sura. Even I did not find his smile very
calming. “The judgment of the Old Gods, of course.”


What does that even
mean?” said Orelia. She raised her hand to slap him again. “I'm not
even going to ask. You're clearly behind it, so I'm going to
kill—”

Yet another shadow hand shot down from the
ceiling and grabbed her by her raised hand. Orelia looked at it in
shock, but before she could say anything, the shadow hand yanked
her up toward the ceiling, where she vanished as silently as a
dying wind.

She was not the only one to disappear.
More and more shadow hands appeared, grabbing the remaining
Smugglers and dragging them into the darkness. Most of the
remaining Smugglers struggled against the shadow hands; indeed, I
would have said that their struggles were almost noble or perhaps
tragic if I did not utterly loathe all of them with my very being.
Good riddance, I say.

Within a few minutes, all of the Smugglers
were gone. The only hints that these villains had been here at all
were the dropped weapons and the strong stink of super speed,
although as all of the Smugglers were no longer here, even that
stink was not quite as terrible as it once was.

I stood there for a full minute, expecting
the hands to return and take me, even though I now knew that Sura
was indeed behind them. Yet the hands did not return and the
darkness appeared as normal as ever.

Lowering my hands, I dashed over to Sura,
whose head had flopped onto his chest again. I stopped briefly to
pick up my skyras sword, then resumed running over to him. Pressing
the tab on my sword's handle to extend the energy blade, I quickly
and easily cut the ropes tying him down, which stood not a chance
against the heat of my blade.

Once all of the ropes were undone, they
fell to the floor. Sura also leaned forward and likely would have
fallen with his ropes had I not caught him in time, holding one
hand on his chest. I felt his heart beating, though not as heartily
as before, and felt his lungs breathing, though again, 'twas much
weaker than it normally was.

I pushed Sura back up to a sitting
position. Deactivating mine skyras sword, I placed the hilt back in
my robe pocket and gently lifted up Sura's face. His one good eye
opened again, focusing on my face with sheer incomprehension. I saw
black lines retreating from his face down his neck and under his
shirt, but I understood not what those meant. His skin, too,
appeared pale, like he was sickly, though whether that was due to
the injuries he had sustained from the Smugglers or whether it was
due to those mysterious shadow hands, I knew not.


Brother,” I said. “Do
ye recognize me? It is I, Rii, your younger brother.”


Rii?” said Sura, his
voice weak. Another smile crossed his lips. “Oh, Rii, how long has
it been since I last saw your face? Ye remind me of our father.
'Twas so long ago that he died. So long ago.”


I know,” I said. “Let
me help ye. I know not exactly what those monsters did to ye, but I
will do what I can to heal ye. Do ye want me to call the villager
healer?”


N-Nay,” said Sura,
shaking his head slightly. “I … ye can heal me yourself. 'Tis a
healing kit in the—”


In the kitchen,” I
finished. “Yea, brother, I remember. I will go get it as soon as I
get ye to your bed. Ye need rest.”


Th-Thank ye, brother,”
said Sura. He sounded close to fainting. “But before ye do that, I
have one last thing to share with ye.”


What is that, Sura?” I
asked.

Sura coughed out some blood, which alarmed
me greatly, before saying, “Those Smugglers will never bother us
again.”

He said that like it was a great joke, for
he smiled and chuckled after those words left his mouth.

Then his eye closed and the last of the
black lines on his neck vanished. I could tell he had lost
consciousness again, which meant I would need to get him back to
his bed with haste.

Picking him up in my arms, I walked toward
the door as quickly as I could, trying not to think about the
horrific screams of the Smugglers as they were dragged in the
darkness. I also tried to ignore the lingering stink of super
speed, although I did not succeed very well in that endeavor.

-

Allegiance
is now available in
ebook and trade paperback wherever books are sold. You can find buy
links on its page right
HERE
(http://www.timothylcerepaka.com/books/allegiance/)!

***

 

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BOOK: Alliance
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