Matt Forbeck - Marked for Death

Esprл stared at Te’oma, taking her all in. “How do you figure that?”

Te’oma stood up and dragged Esprл to her feet. “I want you alive, which is more than I can say for Tan Du. If he had his way, we’d just tote your body along with us.”

“I may still have that chance,” Tan Du said as he materialized from the darkness, his face still glowing with light.

Esprл screamed in shock and fear.

The vampire strode forward blind and smacked the girl across the face. She fell to the ground, bleeding from her cheek. He licked his fangs as he stood over her, his eyes shut tight against the light still flowing from his face.

“Get her up and on your horse, changeling,” Tan Du said. “If she utters another word, I’ll tear out her throat-and yours, too.” He turned to mist again and hovered near the horse to wait.

Te’oma scooped Esprл from the ground, placed her on the front of her saddle, then slipped in behind the girl and spurred the gelding forward. “Don’t worry,” she whispered into the girl’s ear as they took off at a gallop. “I’ll keep you safe.” She surprised herself with how much she meant it.

The scream pierced the night like a banshee’s cry, freezing Kandler’s heart. For a moment, he wasn’t sure the noise hadn’t come from one of those fearsome spirits, then he recognized the voice.

“Esprл!” he said. “Burch, we have to try!”

The shifter nodded. “I’m on it,” he said. As he spoke, his voice turned from its regular low rasp to a bestial growl.

Burch flexed his wiry frame about as he howled at the moonless sky. His wide, yellow eyes seemed to glow in the silvery light of the knights’ swords. Levritt drew back as the shifter snarled at them and bared his pointed teeth. Burch’s head snapped around from left to right, and he trotted off in the direction in which the vampire had vanished.

“This way,” he said.

Kandler stopped long enough to gather their waterskins and food, but he left their other gear behind. The justicar grabbed the reins of Burch’s lupallo, mounted his own horse, and opened his mouth to shout at the knights to hurry. But he kept quiet when he heard Deothen saying a solemn prayer over Brendis and placing his hands on the young man’s neck. As the elder knight pulled his hands away, Kandler saw that the fang marks there had disappeared, although the spilled blood stayed behind.

“My thanks, sir,” said Brendis, and offered a small bow.

“My honor, young knight,” replied Deothen. “Now hurry and mount up. Every moment is precious.”

Sallah and Levritt helped their fellow knight into his saddle, where he swayed a moment before pushing his mount forward. Kandler led the way out of the camp after Burch. The other knights followed.

Burch sprinted along for half a minute and then ground to a halt. When the others trotted up with their flaming swords, he turned to Deothen.

“Can you do that again?” the shifter asked. “Make a light for me?” He held his sword up to the knight.

Deothen nodded and said a quick prayer to the Silver Flame, then reached out and laid his hands along Burch’s blade. It began to glow as if fresh from the forge, brighter than any torch.

Burch nodded his thanks to the knight then leaped into his horse’s saddle and gave it a quick kick. He held his sword aloft before him as the animal broke into a slow gallop. Kandler snapped his reins, and his mount gave chase.

“Can he follow the trail like this?” Deothen asked as he spurred his horse to match the gait of Kandler’s stallion.

“We have to try,” Kandler said. He heard his frustration creep into his voice, and he tried to stamp it out. “This may be our only chance.”

Burch ran his horse straight up the rise on the side of the valley. He veered neither left nor right as he forced the lupallo to pull itself upward on its short, powerful legs. Soon, the hunters found themselves at the valley’s crest.

As Burch’s horse topped the ridge, he whipped his head left and right, then steered his horse into a tight circle. A lump rose in Kandler’s throat as he worried that the shifter might have lost the trail. As Burch completed the round, though, he snarled, turned his horse to the north, and started off again.

The others followed.

Forty yards farther on, Burch reined his horse to a halt and held his glowing sword out high. “Here,” he said. “Four or five people. One horse. Most of the tracks stop here.”

The shifter jumped down, his nose almost to the ground. “One track in or out. The horse.” He scanned the matted grass for a moment more. “It was lighter coming in, heavier going out.”

“Better than the other way around,” Kandler said. He allowed hope to swell in his chest. “Which way did they go?”

Burch hauled himself back into his saddle and pointed his glowing sword to the north.

The shifter led the others off along the edge of the ridge. He held his sword-light before him as he scanned the ground, looking for signs of the horse’s trail. Every so often, he signaled for a halt and rode out in a wide circle around the others. Each time he did, he led them again to the north.

The hunters rode hard for hours, slowing only to spare their horses. The sky became less dark in the east.

“The vampire cannot stand the light of day,” Sallah said. “He must stop and find shelter soon.”

Kandler shook his head. As much as he’d like to believe that, he couldn’t. “Not in the Mournland,” he said. “Pure sunlight here is rarer than diamonds.”

“So they could continue on forever?” Sallah asked.

“The vampire may not tire,” Deothen said, “but the mount we follow will tire soon.”

Sallah reached down to pat her own horse’s neck. “How much longer can it hold out? Our own mounts are close to breaking.”

“Keep riding or get left behind,” Burch called back.

Sallah’s eyes burned holes in the shifter’s back, but Kandler appreciated the shifter’s sentiment. This was no time to talk about slowing down.

Sallah eased her horse back a bit to check on the wounded knight.

“How’s Brendis?” Deothen asked.

Kandler looked back. Even in this light Brendis’ skin was sallow, and dark circles had formed under his eyes.

“I’m all right,” Brendis said gamely. “We’re not going to lose two of us in one day.”

“It’s nearly the next day,” Sallah said.

“Good. I think I can make it that far.”

The young man summoned up a grin both wan and determined. He looked up ahead of them as if he could see the end of a long journey stampeding toward them, then he narrowed his eyes in concentration.

“My wounds must be catching up with me,” Brendis said as he gripped the rim of his saddle with both hands.

“What do you mean?” Sallah asked. She reached out a hand toward him, ready to catch him should he start to topple from his mount.

Brendis pulled one of his hands free from its grip on his saddle and stabbed a finger toward the sky. “Look,” he said. “Can the sky here be clear?”

As one, the other hunters lifted their heads. All of them had been either following the trail or watching Burch’s progress. None of them had seen the circle of blue sky forming in the heavens before them as they rode up a gentle rise in the land.

Kandler’s jaw dropped. He felt like a dragonfly could knock him out of his saddle. “That can’t be!” he said. “This is the Mournland. The sun never shines here.” He stopped himself. “Not until now.”

“The world changes,” said Deothen. “Better to see the changes than ignore them.”

As the senior knight spoke, the hunters crested the hill, and a wide vista came into view. Another valley opened below them. The wall of mist that bordered the cursed land still hung like a curtain across the river and miles off to the west. To the north and east, the half-dead grassland sprawled wide and open.