When Blood Runs Cold - Chapter 267

“Come out,” I order quietly, beckoning towards the blackness. “There is no one left here. Come out.”

For a moment there is silence as the bleakness of the night washes over the land, a silence so stark that one might presume there was nothing there to begin with. But then a small series of rustles make themselves apparent in the bushes below the terrace, followed by the glitter of nocturnal eyes.

“Welcome back friends,” I greet lowly, careful not to raise my voice for fear of who might be listening. As expected, my welcome is not received verbally as the two sets of eyes blink in unison, growing against the darkness. They never have been the most talkative of creatures. In fact, on most accounts they prefer not to talk at all, only doing so when deemed absolutely essential.

Warily, two large wolves pad out from the darkness, their red eyes sparkling against the faint light that catches in the windows of the tavern. Both of them are illuminated clearly now, the great, shaggy mess of their fur heaving under the weight of each lumbering breath.

It must have taken them a while to get here.

Silently, I vault over the banister to meet, landing in the stifled array of bushes below and a mass of thorny brambles. Delicately as tears, the two wolves trot their way around the bushes, furrowing through the undergrowth to attain the clearest path through the darkness. Kneeling down, I hold out my hands to them- these creatures of my own creation, summoning them to me.

The first, the larger of the two with a prominent scar on his left flank, buts his head into my palm with a grumbling sigh.

“What has been going on at Azrael’s palace of lies this week, hmm?” I ask grittily, running my fingers through the wolves fur in unison, letting their strange, not quite solid forms mould around my touch. It is nice to once again feel something so familiar. These hellhounds have been a part of me for as long as I can remember, through both blood and war, peace and tyranny, they have always served me  for centuries with an unquestionable loyalty.

Although they are extensions of my power- hell’s power, these two wolves share no part of my mind. They are the dogs from the depths of hell- hellhounds, summoned to perform my bidding. What information they have managed to acquire from it is entirely down to their own competence in the task I have divulged to them. But they have not failed me before.

“Our High Lady has made contact with the soul,” begins the scarred wolf, sitting before me now. The language of these creatures of hell is a twisted one: each word punctuated with a long, wavering growl that would seem to suggest that they have not yet quite managed the art of talking yet. It is a broken, gruff language that they speak, though not unpunctual, but the meaning is implied well enough nonetheless.

“We have led her to them, and the two have since formed some sort of temporary alliance. It would seem our lady had the same idea as you and would like us to relay messages between us,” the first wolf continues, blinking slowly at me through crystal ruby eyes. The other wolf bows its head in agreement, giving a soft whine.

Slowly, I nod, leaning up against the stump of a tree as I mull over these statements. Great minds think alike, it would seem.

“And Azrael?”

A small hesitation from the two of them is enough to make my flesh quiver with unease. Sharing a lasting look, they bow their heads.

“He stays hidden in the palace for most of the day, it is difficult to understand what he is thinking. But he knows not of our presence. Although the walls of the palace are heavily guarded by his mind slaves, we only appear to our Lady and the Death soul. Azrael has not yet detected our presence, or your involvement,” Says the other affirmatively. Relief washing over me, I nod my head.

Good, at least that is some type of leverage that I have over him.

“And of My Queen?”

There it is- that hesitation again. Uneasily, I crush a clump of flowers between my fingers. It is enough to make a pit of worry boil in my gut, which in and of itself is a rare occasion.

“Well?” I press, my distress seeping through as anger as I give the two of them harsh looks of discontent. The two wolves cower, bowing their heads in a manner that seems almost apologetically human.

“Forgive us, my lord,” speaks the first wolf through flashing fangs, stepping forward with a few lumbering steps. “While your Queen is safe for now, the activities of the Traitor Azrael have become a constant risk to her wellbeing. He has been attempting to feed off of her regularly, which she appears to oblige reluctantly to pacify him. In fact, she purposefully pulls down her wards to do so- likely not to attract suspicion.”

There is enough of a silence that resounds through the air to make me believe that is not the only thing Azrael has been doing to my wife. Gritting my teeth, I sink further down into the undergrowth as darkness claws its way out of my body, licking the air with tendrils of death and a coiling, impenetrable blackness. Across the grass from us, a few flowers wither under it’s influence.

You knew this was going to be the case,  I tell myself inwardly, attempting to rationalise. But it is no good, still that boiling rage, that  fury,  rocks my insides with no remorse. If I could get my hands on my brother…

If I am not careful, my rage will consume me, and this tavern behind me will be blown to bits. Then Azrael’s mindless lackeys will have no issue finding me whatsoever. I cannot afford to make such a grave mistake.

Taking a few deep breaths, I manage to get the coils of darkness to recede an inch back into my body, but not the whole way. Rage is never something I have been particularly adept at controlling. Nor emotions in general.

When I am at last more calm, I growl flatly:

“What has my brother been doing to her?”

The two hell hounds share a paranoid look.

“The traitor tried to rape her.”

A rumble shakes through the ground as a flare of anger riles through my body. Spitting flames of darkness exude from my body like hissing snakes, sweeping up the land until the trees, the fence, the woodland and all its animals are swept up into a void of chilling blackness. Placing my hands on my temples to keep myself from shaking with rage and a horrible, aching grief, I spit:

“And did he?”

“No my King, your wards and the soul helped protect her. She is safe for now, but the traitor is getting impatient. While for now he is distracted with the prospect of the soul, it is only a matter of time before that interest of this wears thin. He will come for her again.”

Clenching my fists into balls, I bite the inside of my cheek. Blood pours from the indent, sweet and tangy- a sufficient distraction for my rage, but it is a superficial one also. Once more, my body flares with darkness.

“You must protect her, you and the soul. If Azrael lays another finger on her…” my voice dies off as another rumble shakes the ground, shaking the leaves from the trees above our heads. Turning, I flick one disdainfully off my shoulder.

Then in the midst of my anger, all at once, I have an idea.

“I have a new mission for you,” I instruct, leaning backwards now to brace my arms against the bracken. A cold wind blows up around us, causing the two wolves to shiver, ruffling out their pelts to shake off the cold.

“Whatever you wish, my King,” they chime, bowing slightly. Running my finger across the dirt absently, I issue my command.

“Somewhere, locked in that palace, is a key. Serena or the soul might know where it is, so ask them first. But I want you to get a hold of it and bring it to her. After that she should be able to escape from that wretched place. But you must act now while Azrael is distracted, understand?”

With a little yip of affirmation the wolves bound to their feet. Then promptly remembering they are in the presence of their lord and master, they bow their heads apologetically, grumbling a low whine.

“We understand. Your plans are as ever masterful, My Lord,” The first wolf bows, a strange wolf like grin spreading across his face. His ruby eyes gleam under the half light of the stars and the little buzz of fireflies flitting around my head, panting with exhilaration. I hum my affirmation, feeling a small bit more relaxed now.

Perhaps this could not be so disastrous after all.