The Heartstone Saga by Archibald Bradford (short novels in english .TXT) 📕

He did what he could to control her weapon arm, but still he flinched when her pistol went off with a resounding crack, tearing a hole in the top lip of one of the crates.

Joan tried to call out for help, but instead a strange gurgling noise came from her throat, Adrian’s pliers having found a new home.

Olena scowled at him, evidently she didn’t think she needed his help.

Truth be told, she probably didn’t.

Missing the Witch’s disapproval, Adrian guided the alcoholic medic to the ground and held his hand over her mouth to keep her silent while she bled out.

Olena meanwhile stepped closer and poked her toe at the ghastly wound he had opened in the woman’s neck.

“Blood of the guilty. Unpleasant, but it has its uses.” She declared with distaste before wiping her toe in the dirt next to the wooden boxes.

While she spoke, the woman at her feet finished dying and Adrian frantically checked from side to side to see if anyone had taken notice of the shot.

A few heads had perked up among the prisoners, but from where he and Olena were he couldn’t see Tristan and his men.

He had to work fast.

Cleaning his pliers as best he could on his pants, he looked to Olena with fear in his eyes.

“You know what will happen if any of these people see you?!” He hissed at the nonchalant monster girl; “Get out of here!”

She raised one eyebrow as she took out one of her needles and a little vial to collect Joan’s blood.

“Strange how you show your gratitude. Did you intend to die here?”

Her lips were twisted in a smirk as she spoke, but then she saw him hesitate at her suggestion.

“You did.” She mumbled, her smile disappearing when she realized the truth; “Even after everything that has been done, by so many, to keep you alive.”

“Look, Olena-” He stopped himself from making excuses as he took up the cell again, is hands shaking; “It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except me dealing with this pile of death before they can use it.”

Her eyes flashed with annoyance, and… pain.

“Months have passed since your loss, Adrian. Months in which I tried to help you as best as I was able. I am… disappointed my support was worth so little to you.”

Her words were flat and he stiffened as he heard them, her emotions unknowable to him.

Feeling more than a little guilty, he opened his mouth to speak, but she shook her head before he could.

“An apology now is worth only as much as the value you place on your life.” She said simply, still masking her pain; “Finish your task and get us out of here alive. Perhaps then I will give you the death you crave.”

__________

Despite the sharp crack of the weapon’s discharge the camp was slow to stir, many of the inhabitants simply too tired to care, and many more figuring that it was just Tristan once again proving who was in charge.

And the ones manning the gatling were distracted by something else: a familiar figure stumbling out of the trees towards them.

“Is that Darry? What the hell is he playing at?”

“I dunno, maybe he’s been drinking with Joan.”

The first man shuddered.

“Take a lot more drink than we got left to get me with her again!”

His partner snorted as the sentry stumbled towards them.

“Oi Darry! You’re supposed to be on watch for another hour yet!” He called out to him; “Tristan will kill you!”

But he got no reply, the sentry ambling right up to them as they watched in amusement and confusion.

The two of them still thought he was just drunk.

They’re amusement ended the moment the man leapt on top of the brush they’d used as a barricade, scrambling his way over the crude barrier.

“The hell you playing at?! There’s no room in this hole for-”

Whatever he intended to say next didn’t matter, because once Olena’s most recent paramour settled on top of them, his body bloated rapidly, and his victims shrieked at the grotesque turn.

His skin quickly split and his insides spilled out all over them, but instead of natural human viscera it was glowing green acid that covered them. It ate through their clothes and flesh, and likewise ate through the gatling on its mount.

The shot from earlier didn’t draw much notice, but after having seen what happened to the last man that screamed like that, the camp woke up all at once.

Chapter 9: Klael

“What did you do?!” Adrian demanded in almost a wail when he heard the screams coming from the gatling.

Olena shrugged and dismissed his concern with a wave.

“I dealt with a problem.” She said unhappily; “Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not changing the subject! No matter what, I need to finish this to keep Alcaia and the others from getting themselves killed!”

His fingers shook as he tampered with the power cell, desperately trying to finish his sabotage before someone in the camp caught sight of him and the Witch bickering and reacted accordingly.

So it certainly didn’t help when she smacked him in the back of the head, her ire seeming to grow by the moment as eldritch power seeped from her eyes.

“That is exactly my dilemma you short-sighted dolt!” Her frustration coming through in her voice; “Your blood is useless to me now. I can’t use the medium of someone seeking death to preserve life. I had intended on shielding Alcaia and the others, just as I did on the night we met. Now, because of your selfish desire to be a martyr, I can’t.”

Shouts of alarm rang out all around the camp and heavy footfalls sounded near them as someone came to check on the crates.

“Hey! What are you-”

Olena turned away from