97 (Rise of the Battle Bred) (4 page)

Zarastrid’s Log Day 95

Year of Our Loch 107

I asked Agnes how she was feeling. She sat with her back to me in the spacious cell. I stood, waiting for her to invite me to sit. We were used to our little ceremonies, pretending perhaps, that she was in a castle solar, and I a noble knight come to worship her beauty. She made no such invitation.

“It wasn’t painful, I trust?”  I managed to ask.

Her shoulders shook almost imperceptibly.

“Zainel didn’t abuse you…” my voice had an unexpected hard edge to it. I, of all of us, knew what our plans entailed. Knew what had to occur in order for the Battle spawn to be created. Surely it wasn’t as unpleasant…certainly much less unpleasant than the dark interviews often conducted against a woman’s will in the back of dingy taverns or bales of hay.

I didn’t know if I should approach her. Her head shook slightly. Appeased, I took a step closer.

“I couldn’t tell you. I knew you wouldn’t agree to it,” I said. Nothing but the truth would do for Agnes.

She turned slowly, looking over her shoulder at me. Her auburn hair shone from the squares of light in the cell’s ceiling. I was struck with her beauty…a sensation I thought I would never feel again after the Coven changed me those centuries ago. Could my heart be growing back?

“It’s true that it didn’t hurt, nor did Zainel abuse me. It was a vial…”  She said in an even tone with a shrug. I felt a ‘but’ coming on.

“You betrayed me, and I will thank you to leave my cell,” She finally finished. She turned back to stare at the naked stone wall.

I felt uncomfortable. Angry. I shouldn’t care.

“You’re the best of them,” Was all I said to her. Then I left. What else could I have done?

Xex

Xex sniffed the air around him with distaste. The scent of human detritus filled his nostrils in the small fenced-in collection of trash bins he hid beside. His massive bulk was difficult to hide behind the puny plastic cans he found in every neighborhood, so he had to use his cloaking ability which exhausted him, or find someplace like this. His prey nearly spied him as it was.

The cagey Warriors he’d trailed since the Midwestern part of the country had settled in a small town. Such surroundings would be more difficult to disguise himself in because of the absence of tall old buildings. With luck and skill, he’d not be here that long.

Xex unfurled his long tendril-like tongue and licked lips and nose like a dog. He smelled his prey, and the female companion with him, even though they had moved on.

He showed primordial teeth in a gruesome grin.

Their last conflict in the middle of the country left him with the taste for blood.

Masters ordered him with the crack of whips and chains. Hunt for the Ones Who Fought Back, use the death spell and return for a new chant. The buzzing noise of their commands always originated behind his left ear.

Every command had been followed unquestioningly, until the battle at Toe-Lee-
Doh.  Xex’ companion had fought viciously, but had fallen. It had been her last life. Something cracked inside Xex.

Masters always forbade the taste of human flesh, instead feeding them some unrecognizable offal, but only after returning from each hunting trip.

When Xer fell for the last time, Xex felt the spark of something feral spiral upward inside himself. It was powerful, whatever the feeling was, and he unleashed it without remorse or thought for the Masters’ retribution.

Humans snapped like twigs beneath his powerful stone-like talons. And they tasted sweet.

Xex felt a rush of memory flood his mind, and his maw watered, leaving a puddle of desire on the cement slab below him.

The Masters had sent him to kill the Ones Who Fought Back, but they had not fallen. They’d risen again and fled. Xex sensed that if he returned to the Masters to report
Xer’s death and his own failure, he would be the next Lochspawn’s offal.

He decided to hunt on his own.

He wanted revenge for Xer. He wanted to consume more human flesh. He wanted to return to the Masters and snap their necks for years of cruelty.

Hunting without a new death spell would be more dangerous, but he was not afraid. He was a hunter, bred to smell out the Warriors and kill them, with or without a spell.

He refused to return to the Masters until he’d grown in strength. The incessant buzzing in his ear had been growing worse. He continually flicked at his head with a preternaturally long talon.

When he returned, it would be to exact an excruciating death on those who demanded fealty by inflicting pain and fear.

Zarastrid’s Log Day 113

She grabbed the bars and screamed at me.

“What have you done?  What have you done?  What did you let him do to us?”   She screamed it over and over again, not bothering to wait until I had opened the gate with my iron key.

Warily, I entered.

She bolted to me, punching me in the chest, tearing at her beautiful hair, screaming then sobbing.

I put her away from me, holding her biceps with my strong hands. The change wrought in me those centuries ago rendered me strong as Atlas.

Eventually she calmed herself.

“How do you feel?”   I asked her. I had to know myself if Zainel’s reports were true.

“I’m a lunatic! I’m happy, then sad, sick then well. Up is down and in is out. Who am I?  Who are you?”  Her voice rose again, flirting with hysteria.

I pulled her to me, holding her tightly as tremors shuddered throughout her body. I shushed her and allowed my hand to do what it had longed to do…stroke her strong back in long languid caresses.

She calmed.

“I believe it is normal,” I said, finally.

“WHAT?”  She shouted at me again. I pulled her head to my chest, jealously holding her head to where my heart once beat lively within. It startled me to learn that I wanted it back now. But it was far far too late.

“Did not any woman of your acquaintance bear a child?  Did not any woman suffer the hysterics associated with carrying a child?”   I asked her softly.

Agnes froze in my arms. I stopped the caressing of her back, unsure of what was to come.

“You knew all of this,” She said quietly.

I waited for her to look up at me before nodding slowly.

“You knew what
Zainel was going to do, and you knew why he did it,” She accused me.

“Of course,” I said simply. Again, honesty was the only way to talk with Agnes. It would always be. “What did you think
Zainel was doing?”   I grimaced when I asked her.

“He dabbles in potions. He said he was studying the ways of the woman. He charted our courses during the isolation,” Agnes said, her voice thick with some emotion.

She upset my balance again. Complex Agnes. Experienced in the ways of men and women, naïve to pregnancy, willing to submit to the Physik, willing to submit to my persistent inquisitions, challenging me to the chesse.

She pulled away finally.

She put her hands to her belly. Her face lit up. “I am to have a child?”

I nodded.

“Then all will be well,” She said quietly. Suddenly, her face turned green. “The…the pail…”  She twisted her mouth, and I frantically searched the cell, finally seeing the wooden pail under the table. I almost got it to her before she let loose her breakfast all over my slippers.

The strange phenomenon one street over had William on edge, and I was second guessing the whole thing. Had I truly felt that tremor of fear run through my body?   Replaying my memory, I couldn’t confirm that what I had seen was indeed an animal: cat, dog or otherwise. It had seemed much larger than a raccoon, perhaps even as large as a bear, but certainly more agile than the bears that occasionally made their way into neighborhoods.

I guess my problem was that what I had seen did not fit what I knew to be possible in my part of the country. Something as big as a bear should move as slowly as a bear. It would be much louder, as well. Yet I had only spied something for a very brief moment, thus making me doubt I’d seen anything at all. But then what could explain my irrational fear?   Dinkle’s dog often stunk like last week’s potato salad, but he wasn’t frightening by any stretch of the imagination. Nor was he quite
that
big.

I kept glancing at William, hoping he might remark on it, or give me some kind of clue as to what level of danger we might have been in. But I didn’t really know him that well yet, and he had retreated to some  silent space he seemed to occupy, suggesting that maybe he didn’t want to talk about it.

I chewed on my lip. I could go either way here. If I acknowledged it happened, then I was introducing some freaky element into my ordered life that I didn’t think I wanted. If I pretended it didn’t happen, then I was also pretending to be a dumb, oblivious girl who didn’t notice peril when it was about to bite me in the butt. I decided I could live with that.

“What about your car?”   I asked him.

He shrugged. Ahh, so we were both going to beat around the bush. I could live with that, too.

“Well, thanks for the walk home. I’ll see you around,” I said.

He didn’t walk away though; rather he followed me to my door. Once I turned my key in the knob and it opened, he stepped off the stoop and left. Whether I liked it or not, I was thinking that a freaky element had indeed entered my life, and it had everything to do with Mr. William, whose buns I did not look at once when he walked off.

I texted Crady to let her know I was home with a “fever” and then found my mom in the home office. “Hey, Mom,” I said.

She took off her headphones. “Hey pumpkin. Aren’t you home early?”

“Yeah, the school nurse said I have a fever,” I knew what was coming next.

“Oh no!” She jumped up and put her hand to my forehead. “Hm. You do feel a little warm. Get to bed. I’ll make some soup and get you some ibuprofen.”

I had to smile. “Mom, for real. I’m completely fine. It was a fluke. I’ll take you up on the soup, though!” I went to my room and dropped my book bag on the floor. Crady returned my text, so I lay back on my bed and got comfortable. She was in study hall now, and would probably text me a book.

WTH?  Fever?

I wrote back, I know, right?

Wait. How did u get home?

Walked.

I’m sorry!

Don’t be. TDH walked me.

WTHWTH?  R u kidding me?

Lol, no.

Spill. The. Beans.

He was cool. He doesn’t smile much tho.

Ikr?

He showed me his exercise routine.

WHAT

At the park. He did these kiks n stuf.

My fingers paused over the letters on my phone. I considered telling her about the strange ‘blur’, but decided it wasn’t worth mentioning.

No friggin way

It was pretty dang awsum

Everything happens to u

I might be crushing

Oh u r so crushin’

Lol gtg

K bye

I smiled thinking about Crady wigging out while sitting in her desk. Her turquoise butterfly was probably flitting to beat the band. Oooh, another good one. I should start writing these down…I fumbled around my room looking for my notepad and pen.

My mom’s voice sounded from the kitchen. Since I told her I didn’t really have a fever, she wasn’t bringing my soup to me. Bummer. I jotted down the phrases of the day, and then padded into the kitchen. Snoopy, our beagle, snorted from under the kitchen table and licked my socks when I sat down.

“Hey Snoopy Whoopy!” I said in the ridiculous tone that humans use to babies and pets. I didn’t care that I sounded this way. Anything to get my Snoopy to wag his tail for me. He was quite old, and sadly, I knew he didn’t have that much time left with me. I bent down and scratched his forehead and cooed some more at him.

My mom put a bowl and spoon in front of me and set the pot on a trivet with her other hand. We didn’t stand on ceremony here these days. We both had other stuff to worry about.

“How’s work?”  I asked her.

“Oh it’s dandy. Got a new client, and I’m almost finished with two projects.”

“Sexy underwear ads?”  I asked her slyly. She raised the Eyebrow at me. I smiled at her and bowed my head.

“I’ll have you know, young lady, that I have my standards.”

“Too bad,” I ate my soup and we smiled at each other. Inside jokes were the best.

“How was school?”  She asked.

“Well,” I couldn’t help it; the blush started at my toes this time, and raced upward like a bicycle chain in tenth gear. And my mom noticed.

She raised the Eyebrow again and set her spoon down. “Do tell.”

“This guy moved in. He’s on our street,” I choked out the words and then slurped soup to disguise my voice.

“Yes, I thought I saw the truck when I poked my head out this morning. So…” she raised her voice in question.

“He’s pretty good looking,” I said, hedging a bit. He was danged CUT and so attractive that it embarrassed me. Heck, even Mrs. Dietrich wasn’t unaffected. She’d given him her previously favorite student’s seat, after all.

“Does he seem nice?  Smart?”  She asked. Mom wasn’t really impressed with looks. She always maintained that my father was the best-looking guy she ever met, and look where that got her.

“He walked me home this afternoon. Even though he has a car,” I thought that might make a good impression. And I had to ask myself, why did I care what kind of impression this boy made on my mom?

“Why didn’t he just drive you?”  She asked.

“Well, I didn’t feel right accepting his offer. Technically he wasn’t supposed to leave school yet, you know, last period,” Dang, I shouldn’t have told her about him skipping.

“Oh. Well that was nice of him. He must have scared away the bogeyman so you could make it home safe!” she said cheerily. She went back to her soup, looking at me over her spoon with twinkles in her eyes.

All of a sudden, I got the chills up and down my spine. I thought about the speedy blur, the animal or whatever, that had drawn our attention just a street over. My soup lost its appeal. But then I remembered his amazing Misrillet, and got caught up in a daydream of his shirt riding up the tiniest bit and revealing abs that rivaled any underwear ad I’d ever seen. Yep, that memory lifted my spirits quite a bit, and I was able to finish my meal with no problems.

After dinner, Mom and I went to do our separate things. She had her work, and I had some weekend homework.

Crady texted me after she got home to let me know about the math assignment. We made plans to get together later too. For some odd reason, she wanted to come to my house this time. Could it be because of a super-hot guy that moved to a house on my street?