FictionPress.com - let the words flow| FictionPress.com - let the words flow |
| Home Just In Communities Forums Beta Readers Dictionary Search | Login Register Extras |
Author: Sparkle Itamashii
Working Title: Korvhan
AN: Please do not take, distribute, or archive without my permission. Nano2008. 50k, 30 days.
Chapter One
He landed in a rush of stirred air, dust and age swirling up about him as he beat his wings to a stop. The stone of the castle bulwark was freezing, colder than even the morning mist. In the distance the haunting echo of life wailed once and then was silent; it was closer than he wanted to hear, but far enough that it was no danger to him. With as much care as he could, he did what he’d come to do and flipped the switch of the machine grumbling quietly on the edge of the stone. The incessant hum in his mind quieted, his muscles relaxing as the tension left them.
The driving need to find the device had finally vanished.
Troublesome, he thought crankily as he folded leathery wings to his sides. The one who had turned on the machine, the one who had called him here, was not even suffering the cold to wait and meet him. Granted it had been nearly a week since the call had gone out, but she was nowhere even close. Not even watching.
Stone grated beneath his paws as he hopped atop the edge of the parapet, peering down in the sodden valley around the castle. Nothing stirred and he was not surprised. It had been years since anything living had naturally graced the planet’s surface so far south. Only the faint bleat of draeden inside the stables told that anything at all was alive in the castle or for miles around it.
“Barnett!” he shouted, deep, throaty voice getting caught in the mist.
She was always here; she had to be here. There were precious few places that were safe in the world anymore… she would not have left Witham Bowl. Where-ever she was within it, she was probably not close enough to hear him. He called again to be sure and then dropped into the courtyard, stirring the well-tended grass and hedges into a symphony of rustles.
It was as deserted inside of the walls as it was outside of them. The tapestries, once bright, had been damaged from years of exposure to the elements; the windows had not been cut into the stone for protection. In his search, he poked his head into halls he knew no one had walked in years and not even the dust stirred to greet him. The walls perspired, water streaking slowly down them, turning the floors slimy and unpleasant as he padded along the empty corridor. His claws clicked on the stone, the noise echoing up and down the halls, eerie in the otherwise dead silence.
After a time he became aware of one other sound, the subtle gurgle and splash of water against more water. Fountain? He wondered, changing direction to follow. The fountains had not worked in ages and there were none inside the castle walls; none that would be responsible for such a noise anyway. A hundred possibilities ran through his mind; shower, bath, tank… all of them he dismissed. This was not the wing where the humans resided; this was the cold, dark wing with wide open rooms. This was where once, a very long time ago, people had danced and eaten and socialized.
This was the wing where music had once flowed.
“Barnett?” he called, peering down another dark hallway. A light glittered on the black stone, illuminating the hall just enough to cast shadows that did not belong. Curious, he moved closer, tucking his wings in tight to his bulk; the corridor was smaller than the rest, not made for his kind.
The room, had it been empty, would have been large enough for him to spread his wings and stand on his haunches without touching the ceiling. Once, years ago, it had been used as a research station; indeed some of the equipment still rested desolately in one of the corners. The rest of the room was filled with cages. The remains of cages, he thought grimly as he glanced around the room. The cage doors were open and they were rusting slowly; two of the larger ones had been overturned and never restored.
What drew his attention, however, was not the cages but the water tank pressed tightly to the right side wall. This he had never seen before and it didn’t make sense to him; several years ago he had helped to dig the pond in the courtyard, fed from the fresh water of the lake on the east side of Witham Bowl. In the tank, muddy water bubbled up from below the surface, murky and tumultuous, keeping the tank aerated. Before he turned his gaze, a flash of silver caught his eye and his curiosity got the better of him.
Picking his way through the cramped clutter of the room, he reached the tanks edge and took a closer look, blocky snout practically touching the surface. Silver flashed and disappeared all over the surface as he observed, trying to catch a single glimpse for long enough to identify what it was. Metal in the water? Why would she keep a tank of mud and metal bubbling in a deserted room?
“[Glitters],” said a voice behind him and his heart took a leap in his chest at the sudden noise. Barnett stood behind him, emerald eyes watching him as she leaned in the open doorway. “You remember them, don’t you? Talia brought them a month ago, from her coastal sweeps with Nez’and. You should have seen their paws, sliced to ribbons from catching the dizzy little fish.”
“Lucky,” Korvhan murmured stiffly. “They could have lost their paws in [glitter] waters. Where are they now?”
The moment of hesitation sunk Korvhan’s heart. “They flew east a month ago,” she said, voice hollow. “They haven’t been back.”
“Zah’ra?” he asked, not wanting to sound too hopeful.
“She’s here still,” Barnett told him, though she didn’t sound very happy about it. “A week ago, she spent two days on the north parapet, calling.” She didn’t have to tell him what that meant; Talia and Nez’and had not been back because they weren’t coming back.
Though his heart ached for the child they had left behind, there was nothing he could do. “That’s why you called for me,” he said, half a question he knew she wasn’t going to answer. “I can’t take her with me.”
“Your valley is safe, Korvhan,” Barnett said reasonably, almost a plea. “Without Talia here…”
“She would be a threat,” he said firmly. “She’s young, but she’s not young enough. Raise her in Talia’s footsteps. Keep her here; it’s safe here too. I cannot stay to protect both of you; if that’s why I am here I will take my leave.”
Though she sighed, she shook her head wearily. “It’s not to only reason. There’s someone… here to see you.”
Korvhan’s scales hackled; there was only one person who knew coming to Barnett would draw him away from his valley, and he was the last person on the planet Korvhan had any interest in humoring. “You called me here for him? You know better. I have no desire to-“
“Korah!” she said sharply and despite their vast size difference the tone commanded him to silence. “Go and talk to him. You know I would not call you senselessly. This is important.”
He sneered, baring sharp teeth at the idea that anything that man could have to say would be important in the least. But Barnett spoke the truth; she would not ask anything of him if it did not bear asking. Whatever the scientist wanted was important enough that Barnett did not seem to think he should be killed on sight. “Fine,” he growled and she moved out of his way as he stomped toward the doorway.
“He’s waiting in your old room,” she called after him, though there wasn’t any need; there was only one place Davis would consider waiting. “And Korvhan.” He paused as she leaned out the doorway to watch him leave. “Try not to make a mess upstairs? I just cleaned the bell towers.”
***
The walk to the western bell tower from inside would have taken much longer than the route he chose. Getting to the top from the inner courtyard was a simple wing-flip and jump and so it was that moments after parting ways with Barnett, Korvhan found himself perched on the bridge between the eastern and western towers. Like the rest of the building it was made of old grey stone, mossed over from the exposure to the outside air. His claws scrabbled uselessly on the edges of the stone when he tried to grab hold of it; he was forced to land directly atop of the bridge instead, thumping down without quite as much grace as he’d intended.
His arrival seemed to go unnoticed- the doorway to the west bell tower remained devoid of life. Korvhan waited, tucking in his wings and watching warily but when no movement stirred he settled onto all fours and padded softly toward his old quarters, careful to keep his claws off the stones so as to be as quiet as possible. Davis would hear him, regardless, but if he were quiet perhaps the insufferable man would be calm as well.
As it was, Davis did not hear him at all. Korvhan peeked around the edge of the doorway and found him with his nose in a book, oblivious to everything around him. Korvhan took in the rest of the room as well. The man had not moved anything aside from the book in his hands, but he had touched everything. His scent, the curious, blank smell of the man clung to every surface, evidence of the way his silvery fingers had ghosted over the artifacts of Korvhan’s past. The knowledge provoked a savage instinct in Korvhan, a reaction which he forced himself to tamp down on tightly.
Once more he turned his attention to the man, observing the slight lift in his stance that came from standing on the balls of his feet. Unlike Barnett’s golden-brown skin, Davis’ was dusted with silver on the underneath, as if his blood ran a different color than others… and it did, Korvhan knew. Despite the way he dressed, in worn human clothes, his black felt hat, the thin glasses perched delicately atop his pointed nose… despite even the mimicry of form, Korvhan knew that Davis was no human.
There had never been someone less human, he thought sourly.
“Davis,” he growled, and the man turned, giving him a bright look that made Korvhan’s skin crawl.
“Korvhan!” Davis greeted happily, though his smile faltered slightly. Davis had never been good at smiles. “You came! How are you? It’s been… well, years, hasn’t it then?”
“What do you want,” Korvhan said flatly, rising up onto his haunches as the man approached. He hoped that the less like an animal he appeared, the less Davis would feel it was acceptable to hug or pat him. Towering several feet over the man’s head seemed to have the desired effect and Davis fell to a stop just short of touching distance.
“Straight to the point,” Davis sighed wistfully, setting the book down onto the nearest table. “No ‘good how are you’s or ‘what have you been doing’s I suppose.”
Korvhan gave him a look that clearly spoke of how insane he thought the man was. “If I cared, I’d ask,” he said viciously. “I’m not here for a social visit, Davis.” A breeze ruffled the space between his wings and his ridged back and he pulled tighter to himself, scowling. “I said; what do you want?”
“Your company,” Davis replied and Korvhan’s lips drew away from his teeth in a snarl. “Or rather, your help.” The amendment, in fact, did not improve Korvhan’s mood.
“Help you?” Korvhan said, disbelief thick in his tone. “Of all people everywhere, you’re absolute last on that list.”
“I regret what happened but-“
“Regret?” Korvhan barked angrily, hackling. “Don’t you dare use that word, Rachlenger. You have no right to it.” His inclination to remain in the room was waning rapidly.
For a moment Davis simply stood there, silently regarding Korvhan as though he were lost for anything appropriate to say. Finally he shifted awkwardly and sighed, dropping his gaze to the floor. “You’re right. I wish that I could change the past for you, but I can’t,” he said gently, though the tone did not placate Korvhan. “Right now, I have to worry about the present, and so do you.” He looked up then and splayed his hands in front of him as though to say he was helpless. “And at present, I need your help.”
“No,” Korvhan said, relishing the hurt that flickered in the man’s eyes before he backed out of the doorway onto the bridge. “For you, it’s always no.”
“Don’t walk away from me, Korvhan,” Davis shouted after him, a note of irritation in his calm voice. “People are going to die.”
“That’s never bothered you before,” he called back, turning about on the bridge and heading for the opposing bell tower. Davis trailed after him, one hand on the top of his hat to keep it from slipping off in the breeze.
“But it has you,” Davis replied, and Korvhan froze on the other side of the bridge. “They’re your people, Korvhan. Their deaths won’t be on my conscience if you turn away from me now.”
Snarling, Korvhan all but threw himself through the entrance of the east bell tower, slamming shut the hollow metal door. How dare Davis pull that garbage, after everything that had happened, after everything he had done… Korvhan’s vision reddened as the fury built inside of him and he closed his eyes, counting slowly, methodically to calm himself. Far too often now he could feel madness on the edge of his thoughts, scraping away at what sanity was left.
The quiet thump of Davis’ head against the metal door came a moment later, shivering along the pads of Korvhan’s paws. He slid the bolt home, knowing there was no way Davis had not heard it. Bowing his head, he ignored the soft question that came next, ignored the pleas that reached him more as vibrations than as sound. Very badly did he want to forget the man entirely, cease his existence through mere will.
“It’s the First.”
The words trickled down Korvhan’s spine like ice, wrapping around his heart, constricting.
“He’s free, Korvhan,” Davis said, the tinny sound filtering through the metal of the door. His voice trembled only a little more than Korvhan did. “He is coming for you, just like last time, and he won’t stop. I know you’ve felt it.”
“And what do you propose to do about it?” he said tiredly, opening his eyes and lifting his head. “You can’t stop him alone, and we can’t stop him together.”
A fist slammed into the door, startling Korvhan. “Dammit, Korvhan! He’s going to kill your kin, all of them. Don’t you care enough to try?”
“My kin are already dying!” Korvhan snarled back, a sick feeling leaping to his throat at the words. “What’s the difference between four years of suffering and four blinks of an eye?” Korvhan slammed his paws into the metal as he shouted, causing a resounding clang which caused Davis to back away from the door. “You tell me that, Davis! Ask me for my help when you know that answer. Ask me when you’ve undone the grief you’ve caused my people. Ask me when you’ve found the hope we’ve lost!”
“Your people are in danger,” Davis needled, and Korvhan’s teeth bared. “Mascovi won’t rest till every last Chas’kra heart stops beating. Will you not raise a claw for them, for your own people?”
Korvhan snapped.
Nearly tearing the bolt from its casing, Korvhan ripped open the door, claws of one paw buried in the hollow metal. Davis stumbled backwards, his form shimmering as it began to change, but Korvhan was faster. Like a striking snake he lashed out, catching the man in the chest with a fist full of hooked talons. They bit into flesh like butter, just deep enough to force the man to retain his human form or risk permanent damage. To his credit, Davis’ mouth remained clamped shut, his voice stuck in his closed throat.
“Give me a reason,” Korvhan hissed icily, blocky snout inches from the man’s face. “One more word and it will be my pleasure to decorate these towers with your gizzard. I would trade His wrath for that satisfaction in a heartbeat.”
“They need you,” Davis managed to strangle out through clenched teeth. He could hardly breathe through being crushed to the stone railing of the bridge and the pain of the claws in his chest was wholly intolerable. “They need me, too.”
“They have always needed you, and you have always let them down,” Korvhan said, clenching his hold a little tighter and eliciting a whine of pain from the pinned man. “Why should today be any different?”
Davis choked thickly and silvery-blue liquid seeped around Korvhan’s claws to the beat of his heart. Disgusted, Korvhan released his hold, dropping the man to the floor like a discarded rag doll. Doubling over, Davis gasped for breath, the gaping wounds in his chest slowly webbing closed, leaving only rents in his clothing to suggest there had been any sort of attack. With a snort Korvhan finally turned away, facing the west tower once more.
“I’m leaving in the morning,” he said coldly, tail lashing. “The next time you decide it’s a good idea to show your face to me, you will find yourself without a face to show. Am I clear?”
Davis didn’t answer, and Korvhan didn’t care. He disappeared into the western bell tower without another word, leaving Davis alone with his thoughts on the cold stone bridge.
***
Korvhan stirred to the sound of soft voices, barely audible over the shift and bleat of the draeden pent up around him. With effort he dragged his consciousness from a warm, sleepy haze and focused on the voices; there were only two people in the entire castle and one of them shouldn’t have been nearly close enough for Korvhan to hear. Unless Barnett was upholding both ends of the conversation, Korvhan wanted to hear what had drawn Davis to disregard his warning.
“-leave without him,” Korvhan caught as he crawled closer to the edge of the [sheep’s] sleeping pen. “One of them has to, Lilley. Him, or Mascovi, and you know where Mascovi’s heart lies. Korvhan-“
“Korvhan would just as soon kill you as look at you,” Barnett chided softly, voice echoing around the courtyard. They had gone outside, unaware that Korvhan had chosen to sleep in the stables instead of his bell tower. “You’d have better luck finding Mascova after all these years. It’d be just as much of a miracle.”
A sigh, deep and pained. “If I could, I would. She could solve this so easily… But if she doesn’t want to be found, she won’t. Like it or not, Korvhan is the best hope for his people. And he’s the only shot for finding Mascovi before he takes care of the problem.”
Barnett’s turn to make a noise, one Korvhan hated, one that meant she was helpless but to agree with Davis. “Have you tried just talking to Nicholas? He was always rather intelligent. Perhaps-“
“He’d just as soon kill me as well. He blames me for all this just as much as the other two. And he’s not going to stop fighting because I think it’s a bad idea. Mascovi could descend upon his outpost and Nick wouldn’t back down without a fight to the death; you know him. There’s never been a more stubborn creature.”
“Except you,” Barnett replied, amusement at the edges of her voice. “And Korvhan.” There was a silence between them and Korvhan could only imagine the looks which passed between them. Finally she sighed and he heard the shift and rustle of straw beneath her feet. “I’ll talk to him in the morning. Get some sleep, Davis. You need it more than anyone.”
Korvhan listened to her walk away from him, knowing that she did not embrace him as she might others. No one touched Davis if they didn’t have to; the humans didn’t like to and the Chas’kra refused to get close enough. For a while Korvhan continued to listen for the sound of Davis moving away as well, but sleep clouded his mind as he nestled back down into the soft wool of the draeden around him. As he drifted off he remembered that he could have listened all night for Davis to leave and it wouldn’t have mattered; he wouldn’t have heard it.
***
Morning dawned earlier than Korvhan would have liked and he dragged himself away from the warmth of the stables, out into the cold mist. The valley was always misty, and it had saved the castle more than once. Most Chas’kra would not fly through it, disliking the way it clung to their skin, weighted them down so that they could not fly out again. Korvhan had not yet lost his inner wing membranes, despite that he should have years ago, and so the mist did not bother him. In fact he enjoyed the way it gathered, trickling in rivulets over his hide as he moved through it, the cool sensation spider-webbing over all his skin.
It reminded him of being young, when his wings had let him truly touch the sky.
He slunk out into the central courtyard and stretched before moving for the pond on the northern edge. It was deep and black and the water was clean to taste. Several years ago Korvhan and a few others had dug it out, hollowed out a route beneath the castle’s northern wall, followed the trench all the way to the lake that had sunk into the north eastern part of the valley. He remembered racing the water back to the castle, shouting and hollering at the crash and crackle. The water had won, and Korvhan had been soaked to the bone.
After a deep drink, he launched himself into the air, beating rapidly to rise over the tall, forbidding castle wall. He had time before anyone expected him back at the valley; he’d left on the word that he would return when he could, left them all with crystal instructions on how to take care of themselves, should something happen to him along the way. They were protected as long as they did not disobey, so long as none of them was so selfish as to disregard the safety others by staying too long.
“Korvhan!”
Jolted from his thoughts, Korvhan grabbed hold of the northern wall, claws sinking into the stone as he looked over his shoulder. Barnett was trotting out into the courtyard, clothes fluttering with the wind of his passing as she came closer. The air settled and she peered up at him, shading her eyes with one hand.
“And just where do you think you’re going without saying goodbye?” she called up to him, and guilt needled at his insides. He didn’t want to hear her defend Davis. He might never come back to her if she did. “Did you even get your breakfast?”
He sighed and turned around fully, perching on the edge of the inner parapet. “I heard you last night,” he rumbled and saw her shoulders fall a little. “Save your breath, Barnett. I’m not going with him. I won’t put myself in that position again.”
“Do you remember Nicholas?” she shouted up to him, and there was a peculiar note in her voice, one that spoke of something eerily dangerous. “Nicholas Sharidon, he was one of the technicians at-“
“Yes, yes I remember him,” Korvhan interrupted, stomach sinking. They’d said the name last night, though he’d dismissed it. Nicholas had been one of the young researchers under Davis; nice enough, but distant. Cunning. He had stolen two years worth of data from the lab and disappeared without a trace. Had he stayed, he might not have taken what he did; the experiments had ended too poorly to bear continuation or repetition. “Still around, I assume?”
“Not just around, Korah. He’s been taking your people,” she said gravely, pursing her lips.
“They all do. Death is nothing new to the Chas’kra,” he called, hunkering down against the breeze. “We are born knowing we are hunted, and we die knowing it can’t be helped.”
“He’s not killing them,” she called, and his skin crawled at the way she said it. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten Rouchelle already, Korah- I won’t believe you. What Davis did to Rouchelle… Nicholas is doing to dozens of others. Come down off that wall, and hear him out at least. If you had half a brain you’d listen and go with him after all.”
Korvhan frowned as much as was possible and opened his wings reluctantly. More grief, more pain; it as all Davis was good for, even years after all of his willing subjects had left him and his research labs. “I’ll hear him, but I don’t have to go with him to clean up his messes,” he conceded, spreading his wings and hopping lightly from the wall.
His shadow passed over the top of her as he glided for the inner castle entrance, and she turned to silently follow him back to Davis’ side.
