Bleh, I’m not sure I like this chapter, it feels rushed. *shrugs* Oh well. And no, I didn’t proof read it very well... *grins* Feel free to nitpixel, all you invisible readers… Prrt.
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Seven
Bea headed down Medcentre when she heard Hak had been attacked, fearing the worst… Drek had wanted to go with her, worried for his huge pack-mate, but Council had made its usual demands and he’d reluctantly gone there instead.
Hak was in the main ward, looking tired and old. He watched the elderly mudokon pad over, his eyes dull, glazed; one arm lay lightly bandaged across his massive chest. A young mudokon nurse was just heading out for more bandages.
She offered up a wan smile. “How are you feeling?”
Hak shrugged with one shoulder, made a ‘so-so’ gesture with his good hand.
“May I see…?” she asked, gently.
He nodded, turned his head to one side and tilted his muzzle sideways, wincing slightly.
Bea frowned sadly – the burns were stark and black against his oddly-pale, waxy skin. She recognised the symptoms – every single corpse had had similar ones, usually on the temples and less noticeable, but they’d been there all the same. They’d heal, of course, like any other burn, given time, but the very nature of the burn meant it was unlikely he’d get his voice or the use of his arm back… So her suspicions were right; someone was practising a very old, very dark art…
She lay a gentle hand on his good arm. “I’m sorry, Hak… for not getting things worked out a bit quicker…”
He summoned the tiniest smile imaginable up from somewhere buried deep inside him, and gently touched his massive snout to hers, as if to say he didn’t blame her, understood she’d done what she could. Then gestured behind her, pointing.
Bea turned; Jai’ana was huddled up in a little blanket-covered bundle on the bunk in the far corner, talking in a hushed voice with Skan. She looked like she’d been crying for a long time, judging by her puffy eyes. Bea glanced back to Hak, nodded. “I’ll go talk to her.
He nodded back, once, wincing tightly and rubbing his dead shoulder.
Bea padded over to where his daughter sat, sniffling. Skan glanced up at her approach, stood up to go, but Bea just smiled, sadly, and motioned for him to stay if he wanted. “And how are you feeling…?” she asked, gently, perching on the side of Jay’s bunk.
The godling sniffled, softly. “Cold,” she replied, petulantly. “An’… an’ Da’s hurt…”
“I know,” Bea replied, softly. “But…” she sighed, and spread her hands, helplessly. “Until I figure things out there’s not a lot any of us can do… I don’t suppose you remember anything, do you?”
Jay wiped at her eyes with her hand. “A bit…” she sniffed. “It made my teeth hurt.”
“There was magic at work…?”
Jay nodded, hugged her blanket tighter round her bony shoulders. “I didn’ understand it…!” she whimpered, and shivered. “I didn’ understand it, an’ it scared me…!”
Bea nodded. “I guessed there must have been… for no-one to see anything until it was too late to do anything…”
Jay looked up at her. “Can we get rid of it, d’yer think…?” she asked, faintly; the spark of hope in her amber eyes had nearly gone out.
Bea gazed at her cupped paws. “Yes,” she said, measuredly. “Yes, I think we can – I can. But… it’s not going to be easy.”
It was getting late. Bea had visited council once on her way home; Drek had met her, looking haggard and vastly older than his already-pretty-ancient seventeen years. Council had been bickering as usual, and he’d been trying to referee, but without Hak’s forbidding presence at his back he’d been struggling to make himself heard. A little disappointed he wouldn’t be able to get home for a long time, she’d gone on her way, alone. She’d excused herself from her duties, on the pretence of feeling unwell, but really she just needed time alone to think, time to think and try to get her head round what she thought was going on…
She was home now, sitting cross-legged out on the broad platform in front of her home, and sighed. The town was so quiet it might well have been a ghost-town; usually there would have been people sitting round the base of the ornamental fruit-tree in the centre of the square, talking amongst themselves, people hurrying about and getting provisions… Entire phalanxes of children of both species would have been charging round, being generally noisy and causing mayhem…
Now there was none of that. The children were all safely hidden away indoors, too scared to go outside, and the adults were keeping indoors as much as was physically possible. Only the Patrols were a regular feature – Team Fourteen passed under her tree roughly every half an hour or so.
She cupped her hands round a squat mug of tea, and shivered. A brisk wind had whipped up outside, and was chasing leaves across the stone-paved square below. Drek would still be at council for a long time, yet, probably…
She felt dreadful, keeping all this information from everyone, but she couldn’t risk it getting out… it had taken more courage than she’d realised it would to even trust old Drek, and she’d ordinarily trust him with her life… but… She stared down into her mug and sighed, watched the steam curl up off the surface of the scalding fluid it contained.
And poor Hak…! How the mighty had fallen. Just went to prove that everyone was in the same danger as everyone else, at the moment…
The malevolence sat across the square, in the shadow of a building, and watched her brooding, with a thin, unpleasant smile on his face. Soon, lady, he promised her, silently. Soon.
Night had drawn in very rapidly, and Bea had retired for the night. She’d thought of putting candles out, but then guessed it would have been pretty academic – if He’d decided to attack her He’d have just done it, as she was alone, candles or no candles. But then… if her suspicions were right, he’d be steering well clear of her…
She curled the blanket round herself, and shivered. It was a long while since she’d felt this way, a long time, years certainly, probably getting closer to decades…
There was the murmur of voices from outside, and the muted clatter of slig pants – That would Be Fourteen and Drek, then. She listened as he called out after the Patrol team – there was a nervous laugh from two of the Night-guards – and then the clatter faded off into the distance. Drek left his own pants at the base of the tree, in a small padlocked safe-box – they weren’t particularly conducive to tree-climbing at the best of times, and certainly not at his age…
There was the soft slap of long hands on wood, then she felt the mattress shift, slightly, and a soft grumble of effort. She smiled, involuntarily – she was vastly older than Drek, and yet he was suffering his age more; mildly diabetic and having trouble with his joints.
“Y’shouldn’ be here alone, Bea…” he admonished, gently.
“Hello to you, too…” she replied, with a smile that quickly faded.
He sighed, tiredly, and rubbed at his eyes, stretched his arms and tried to work some of the soreness out of his right shoulder. She was very quiet, he noticed – usually she’d want to know what Council had discussed, but she was silent, and curled up facing the wall. He gently lay his chin on her shoulder, put a hand on her arm. “Bea…?”
She turned her head slightly to one side so she could see those concerned amber eyes. “What’s the matter…?”
“Yer upset, lady.”
She chuckled. “Oh, don’t you worry about me. I’m just feeling my age a bit.”
He didn’t smile back. “That’s a lie,” he said, sadly. “There’s more on yer mind than that…”
The smile slid away. “Yes,” she sighed, let her gaze drop back to the spot of moonlight on the wall. “Yes, there is. I’m worried, Drek.”
“What about? Whether we’ll catch ‘im?”
“Oh, no, I know we’ll find him, and I’m guessing it will be soon… no, I just…” she shook her head. “I’m worried I won’t be strong enough.”
“To do what…? Bea, c’mon, we can help yer, can’t we…?”
She patted his hand. “I wish you could. But… no, this is something I have to do alone.”
He didn’t reply, at first, just kept his chin on her shoulder; it was somehow an oddly reassuring gesture. She could feel the soft thud… thud…thud… of his heartbeat against her shoulderblade.
“It’s more’n jus’ that, too, ain’t it?” he said, at length. “Bea, I ain’t seen yer so worried since… since…” she felt him shake his head. “Well, ever. Bea… frack, I’m worried ‘bout yer…! An… well, don’ yer even trust me enough t’tell me why yer so upset…?”
She watched the silhouette of tree-branches play across the moonlight-spot on the wall. “I’m sorry, Drek, I just… I’m just…” she sighed, rolled onto her back, dislodging him from her shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve got long left for this world.”
He was silent.
“Perhaps if I’d been strong enough… perhaps if I’d done what I should have done back then… maybe all this wouldn’t be happening now,” she went on, gazing at the ceiling. “But I wasn’t brave enough. I was stupid; young and foolish, I thought I could do it a different way, but now… an old mistake, back to haunt me…” she sniffed, wiped at a tear, angrily. “Why was I so stupid, Drek…? I’m supposed to be the one anyone can turn to with a question, when they need help, and yet… I can make such a stupid, terrible mistake…”
“Yer was young, lady…” he said, curling into her side and tucking his head under her chin. “Anyone makes mistakes when they’re little… frack, I made more than me own fair share of them…!”
She put her arms round him, sighed. “I know. But how many of yours have come back to haunt you, to kill the people you care about…?”
He didn’t answer, at first; couldn’t think of a suitable reply. “I…” he sighed. “Sorry, Bea, I guess… I guess this whole counselling lark ain’t somethin’ we’re made for…”
She laughed, softly, but there was no humour in it. It was a painful sound – almost closer to crying than laughing. “Almost second nature when you’re old as I am,” she replied, softly. “You best get some sleep. I think we’re going to find a lot out about our dark little friend, and very soon, too…”
It was morning, and the sun was just below the horizon. It would be starting its daily voyage into the heavens, soon, but at the moment it was still just far enough below the treeline to throw deep, velvety shadows under the trees, around the buildings.
He was hungry, as ever. Last night He’d been lazy, hardly bothering to get that pathetic little slig’s lifeglow to burn brighter, just sucked it dry of all the light it contained… He’d left it for all to see in the centre of the Main Square, its ugly little face a mask of terror, lips drawn back from its teeth in a rictus of agony… and now He was hungry again. He was strong, stronger than He’d ever been, but He was slothful, and greedy.
He grinned, darkly – and went off on the hunt.
Aura was dozing fitfully by the fire. Rek and Aalu had already left for Medcentre, when the Early Morning Patrol went past, as the busy little hospital needed all the staff it could get at the moment – the little killer seemed to have taken a dislike to medics, and had killed five of them… It had been a tough decision to make, leaving their children alone at home while it was still dark, but guessing they’d be pretty much safe if they stayed together and kept the fire lit… Aura had a blanket draped round her dark shoulders, and her eyes, with their odd copper aurorae, were closed. Dren sat opposite, watching the flames dance.
“Aura…?”
She opened one eye a fraction. “Wha-…?” She asked, half-asleep.
“I heard somethin’,” he replied, discarding his blanket and going to the doorway.
“Heard somethin’?” she was immediately awake. “What like…?!”
“I dunno…” he had his back to her, staring out into the lifting gloom. “I can’t see nothin’ out here… mebbe it was my imagination.”
She huddled her blanket closer. “Hope so…”
“Mebbe I better go out and check, just in case…?” he suggested, turning his head and scrutinising her with eyes like round black marbles.
“No…no, Dren, you’re not!” she told him, shivering. “You ain’t goin’ out there.”
He scowled at her. “Jus’ cause yer five minutes older don’ mean yer can push me round, y’know,” he said, belligerently. “An’ I wanna go see what made that noise…!”
“There wasn’ a noise, yer doin’ it ter scare me,” she whined. “So cut it out!”
“Huh. Yer was asleep, what would you know about noises?”
“Please, Dren, please don’ go out there… don’ leave me alone, here…!”
He padded back to the fire, head held low. “I guess I better stay…” he replied, faintly, and looked up through the flames at her.
She looked back, and shivered.
Rek was busy. He was getting frequent demands for medications, and half the time wasn’t getting time to finish making up preparations before the next demand came in… He had been furiously pounding a mucky grey-green root to a pulp in a pestle and mortar a few seconds beforehand, and had just picked up a bottle of distilled water when-.
A high, strident, glass-etching scream rang out across the still-mostly-asleep town.
Rek jerked his head up. “Oh no…” he moaned. “Oh no… Aura!” And literally dropped what he was doing; the bottle of water shattered on the tiled floor. He ignored it; broke into a gallop, as fast as his legs would carry him, and fled homewards…
Hunter Ch’ekk was there already, arms protectively round Aura, knife held lightly in his long hand. She had her arms tight round his chest, head buried under his chin, shaking and sobbing.
“You!” Rek choked out. “What the frack…? It was you…?!”
Ch’ekk just wrinkled his nose in an expression of distaste. “Don’t be stupid, industrial – would she permit me to remain if I had attacked her?” he snapped, showing his teeth. “I found her like this. You should be out hunting the one that did it…”
They whisked her straight down to Medcentre to get her checked over, while the patrol teams split up to look for their culprit. He couldn’t have got far, after all…
“I think,” the mudokon on morning surgery duty said, calmly. “That her scream must have scared her attacker away. I don’t think he had time to do anything to her.”
Aalu sat on the bunk next to her daughter, arms protectively round her, trembling. “You only think…?”
The mud nodded. “Yes, but I’m pretty sure. There’s no burns on her skin, and she’s not complaining of any numbness anywhere, so I think we’re in the clear. She was just very lucky.”
Rek leaned his head in his hands and didn’t comment; Bea put a hand on his shoulder – she wasn’t entirely surprised when his arms went round her. He was exhausted, and emotionally totally drained. Bea gently returned the gesture, and watched Aura, hoping for some clue at last to who was doing all the killing…
Aalu gently cradled her daughter in her arms. “Aura… Aura, can you hear me…?” she asked, softly, fighting against the tears.
Aura managed a weak nod. “I c’n h… hear you…” she whispered.
“Aura, who did this…?” Aalu rocked her gently back and forth, as though her child was a hatchling again. “Please, sweetheart, just tell me… who did this…?”
Aura managed to get one word out before slipping away in a dead faint;
“Dren.”
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*would be interested to know if anyone (if anyone except Drag reads this) had guessed who it’d be before now, and whether she left any/enough/too many clues, as she’s usually pretty pants at mystery-type stories*
*would also like to know if anyone (except Drag, who knows what’s going to happen) has any ideas what comes next…*
*just… wonders*
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