The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir by Benjamin Agar (best novels ever txt) 📕

his jaw, attention falling to the floor before he looked back to Sammil from under a hooded brow. 'We only had his word at their destruction. A word we can't trust any more due to his...betrayal.'

 

Sammil frowned. 'It wasn't just Kalthasin who took part in that raid. Hunters Debyl, Keril, Somer and Vakti. They corroborated his account.'

 

'And all of them are dead,'Anargrin said.

 

Sammil stared at Anargrin, his jaw twitching. 'What are you implying? Some conspiracy? You're paranoid. You of all people know how dangerous this job is. Do not be so ridiculous.'

 

'I bet...I bet you that that test will come back positive. That young man had magical potential.'

 

'Even if he did. It doesn't prove anything.'

 

The Devanworth Cult was sired vampires obsessed with drinking the blood of those with magical potential. Believing that it would activate their magical potential, but they were outliers. Insane, sired vampires envious of the magical ability of their original cousins.

 

Anargrin sighed. 'Yes, there might not be a conspiracy, but that doesn't mean the Cult isn't still active. Or it could be another cult with a similar belief.'

 

'All of this is just conjecture. I-'

 

Sammil was interrupted by a knock on the door.

 

'The results are ready, sir!' called a voice on the other side.

 

'Yes, please do come in, Jalek,' said Sammil.

 

It opened, and a dwarf entered. He was short, like all dwarves but not stocky. He was almost slender to an elven degree and clean shaven. He approached the desk in small shuffling steps and handed Sammil a piece of paper.

 

'Hi, Anargrin,' said Jalek as he turned and to leave.

 

'Hi,' said Anargrin, more interested in the paper. He'd been at the base for a day, waiting for the test to go through. All the time champing at the bit, fearing there would be another victim.

 

'Thank you, Jalek,' said Sammil as he started to read. It only took a few seconds for him to frown, sigh and toss it onto his desk. Anargrin smiled.

 

'Yes. Alright. It was positive,' said the Head Hunter. 'But this doesn't confirm anything. It could be a coincidence.'

 

'A coincidence?' said Anargrin, raising his eyebrows. 'Perhaps, but I doubt it.'

 

'It would only be confirmed if you went and tested all of the victims. But they are too far gone. You know what this is? It reeks of desperation.'

 

Anargrin shrugged. 'Yes. I won't bother to deny it; it's desperation. This vampire is too good at covering its tracks. Too good for me, perhaps even too good for detective Arken. I've got to try something. I know you're sceptical. I am too, but I've got to do something.'

 

'So? What are you going to do?' said Sammil. 'Reveal your magical potential and draw it out? Use yourself as bait for once? You seem to like to do that to others.'

 

The elf frowned. 'No, they don't drink the blood of Hunters, thinking us as 'tainted.' Illogical, idiotic. We are closer to the original vampires.'

 

'Whoever said such a foolish belief would have any logic to it?' said Sammil. 'Just look at the Jaroaian religion.'

 

Anargrin smiled. 'Indeed.'

 

He started for the exit.

 

'Where are you off to?'

 

Anargrin paused. 'To do what I always do. Finding bait. Wish me luck.'

 

'You'll need more than luck, Anargrin.'

 

'I know, but I've got a lot of skill too.'

 

He left.

 

'Always so arrogant,' sighed Sammil.

 

 

Chapter 5

 

Anargrin suppressed his magical presence and, under cover of night, darted from roof top to roof top searching for a sign of someone, anyone with magical potential.

 

It was all in silence, all intuitive, having done this for nigh on seventy years now his mind couldn't help wander, wander back...

 

His view drifted from the grim rooftops of Valtagan to a small cave. Emilia was one second walking in front of him, the next she was flying off her feet and smashing against the cave wall. Then she hit the ground, lifeless and limp. The booming, echoing laughter hurt Anargrin's ears, and like a spectre, the troll emerged from the shadows. It was three metres tall, and its scaly hide was the same shades of brown and grey as the cave walls. Its elongated snout jutted another metre from its hunched shoulders. Its lipless mouth filled with rotting, razor-sharp teeth that stuck out in odd angles. Its large eyes bulged on the top of its head, angling to the sides. Its legs were short to a ridiculous degree- but its arms were almost as long as it was tall. How it'd managed to deceive Anargrin's sharp senses was beyond him.

 

In a flash of white light, Anargrin summoned his sword, and to its credit, the troll didn't bandy words as it summoned its goblins. A good two dozen of the hunched diminutive creatures appeared between Anargrin and the troll.

 

'Kill,' said the troll and, snarling and hooting, the goblins surged forwards.

 

Anargrin was snapped back to reality as he sensed it and he slid to a stop.

 

He'd found it, someone with magical potential.

 

'Lucky me,' he sneered and started south.

 

Anargrin crouched on the rooftop of a three-story habitat block, looking down at the small, dilapidated house across the street. It wasn't a dwarven structure as it made of wood, wood which was near to rotten, the once green paint cracked and damaged after years of disrepair.

 

In his search, he'd also gone south, far south, deep into the south-eastern slums — at least twenty kilometres from the vampire's initial feeding ground.

 

The aura wasn't much stronger than average, which indicated an early onset of magical potential. Usually, in children about seven to ten years old, this made Anargrin hesitant.

 

Anargrin sighed and blinked back his weariness. It was three in the morning, but he couldn't wait any longer. He tried to steel himself, he had to do this, or else others will die, but if the child died, he would never forgive himself. Sometimes the ends did justify the means. Could this be one of those times?

 

Anargrin wasn't sure. He exhaled, there was only one way to find out, and he leapt off the roof.

 

The knocking waked Solen; his eyelids felt like they'd been glued together and he didn't bother trying to open them.

 

'Honey,' said Falin, as she rolled in the bed. 'There's someone at the door.'

 

'Just ignore it, they'll go away,' said Solen. 'Who in their right mind would knock at this time?'

 

'No one,' said Falin. 'All the more reason to answer, they might need our help.'

 

'But what if it's someone who's going to barge in and murder us?'

 

'Then you'll stop them,' said Falin.

 

'How do you know that?'

 

'Because you'll have to. I have faith in you, Solen. Unlike that arsehole, Jaroai.'

 

Solen let out a groan, forced his eyes open and slipped out of bed.

 

He stepped out into the hallway and flinched in fright when he found Kelth, poking her head from her room. She stared at him, her beautiful, large eyes so much like her mothers were wide with fear.

 

'Kelthy,' said Solen. 'Did the knocking wake you up?'

 

The little elf girl pursed her lips and nodded.

 

'Go back to bed, Kelthy. Your daddy will take care of it.'

 

Kelth didn't seem convinced, which upset Solen more than it should've.

 

'Bed,' he snapped.

 

Kelth slipped into her room, tears in her eyes and slammed the door shut.

 

'I'm sorry, Kelthy. I mean to-'

 

The knocking interrupted Solen, and he moved on with a growl.

 

'I'm coming. I'm coming. Jaroai, damn it.'

 

Solen wanted to use worse words but held his tongue.

 

He burst into the kitchen, snatched up a knife and approached the door.

 

'Yes, yes! I'm here,' Solen yelled through the door. 'What the hell do you want?'

 

'I-I'm sorry,' said the voice. 'I'm sorry to have woken you so early, but I need to talk.'

 

'Why?' said Solen. 'You're fucking lucky I'm not human and need more sleep.'

 

'Sorry,' said the voice, and there was a metallic tap on the window beside the door. Solen's heart sank as he saw it was a sheathed sword. A sheathed sword with the sigil of the Hunters on it.

 

'Please stop apologising, sir,' said Falin as she took the kettle hanging from over the crackling fire.

 

'I'm sorry,' said the Hunter, sitting at the table. 'And please call me Anargrin.'

 

'All right, Anargrin,' said Solen. 'What brings a Hunter to our door?'

 

'Investigation,' said Anargrin. 'I am investigating into a vampire that has set up shop in the area.'

 

'Shit? Really?' said Solen. 'We-we haven't heard of any attacks yet.'

 

'It hasn't struck yet,' said the Hunter. 'We received an anonymous tip that it's a rather infamous one. One which, for some reason or another, exclusively targets elf children.'

 

A surge of fear hit Solen, and he shared a glance with Falin.

 

Anargrin sighed. 'And we have further evidence that it's going to target your-'

 

Anargrin straightened, his attention over Solen's shoulder and Solen turned to see Kelth in the kitchen entrance.

 

'Kelth,' said Solen. 'Go to bed.'

 

'A-a vampire?' said Kelth, ignoring Solen, her attention on Anargrin.

 

Both Solen and Falin turned to Anargrin, unsure on what to say to the terrified little girl and for a second Solen was shocked to see there were tears in the Hunter's eyes.

 

'Yes,' he said. 'I'm afraid so. I'm sorry. You weren't supposed to hear that you must be very scared.'

 

Kelth stepped out of the doorway, and to Solen's further shock, there wasn't a hint of fear on the little girl's face.

 

'I'm not scared. Are you a Hunter?'

 

'I am.'

 

'My name is Kelth, Mr Hunter. What's yours?'

 

'Anargrin...My name is Anargrin Kelth. It's good to meet you.'

 

'You are going to protect us.'

 

'I...I'm going to try.'

 

'No, you will. I can tell you will, Mr Hunter.'

 

'Please, just call me Anargrin, Kelth.'

 

''Kay, Mr Anargrin. I'm going to bed. I'm tired. Night.'

 

With that, she slipped back into the hall and out of sight.

 

'I...I need for you to stay here, at home for the next few days,' said Anargrin after a long pause. 'I will watch your house for its approach. And stop it.'

 

Falin nodded. 'Thank you, Anargrin. We appreciate this, thank you.'

 

Solen nodded too. Kelth had faith in this Anargrin. Ever since she was very young, she had a skill at reading people. She was so good that Solen had come to trust her instinct more than his own. But, something didn't sit well with Solen. The Hunter's intentions seemed good, but he couldn't help feeling there was something the Hunter wasn't telling them.

 

Falin finished making the Hunter's tea and placed it on the table in front of Anargrin.

 

'If you ever need anything, please ask,' said Falin.

 

'Thank you, ma'am,' said Anargrin as he took a sip of his tea. 'But I should be good.'

 

'I appreciate this, I do, Sir Hunter,' said Solen. 'But if we have to stay here, how can we earn a living or get food if we're stuck here? I'll lose my job at the quarry and Falin's...'

 

Falin and Solen shared a look.

 

'You must understand, Anargrin,' said Falin. 'We can't survive just on Solen's money. I have too...I need too...'

 

Anargrin nodded, his eyes watered with sympathy. It made anger well in Solen's guts.

 

How could this stranger begin to understand? Begin to know how Solen had to deal with Falin's work night after night? How Solen had to put up with the unwanted knowledge that his beautiful wife was so popular with the clientèle? This Anargrin shouldn't have had any idea, but somehow he did.

 

'I do,' he said. 'Don't worry, I will provide you with the supplies you need, for