Playing With Fire (25 page)

“I’m
so sorry,” was all I could say. Alastair smiled anyway.

“It’s
alright,” he said. “It’s not like it was your fault.”

“What
is your power?” I questioned to change the subject. Alastair smirked, as if he
liked that question.

“This,”
he began as he pulled his hand away from mine, rising from the bed. He cracked
his knuckles and told me to watch carefully. Then, something happened that
amazed me so much I literally jumped back. With the sound of ripping fabric, a
blade sprouted out of Alastair’s tan skin. Cold metal blades jutted out from
his wrists as well as his elbows and shoulders. Curved metal swords slit through
his shirt like a rib cage. Alastair grinned at me with a goofy look on his
face, as if nearly giving me a heart attack amused him.

“Scared
you?” he asked as he walked closer. No blood came from where the blade and skin
met.

“A
little bit,” I admitted, trying to calm my racing heart.

“Want
a hug?” he joked, attempting to embrace me.

“I’m
good, thanks,” I laughed, pushing him back by his forehead. He chuckled as the
blades receded back into his skin with a sound that resembled swords being slid
into sheaths. The only evidence left behind of their existence was a torn
shirt. He sat back down on the bed next to me and eyed the book.

“Do
you want me to read to you now?” he offered.

“I
thought you’d read to me before I went to sleep,” I replied. “It’s still morning…
I think.”

“There’s
more than one story in that book,” Alastair said. “I can read one to you now,
and then another one before you go to sleep.”

“Okay,”
I said while handing him the book. He took it from me and scooted closer to me.
I leaned closer as he opened the book, and he shifted uneasily.

“Do
you want me to move?” I asked.

“No,
you’re fine right where you are,” He said while trying to hide his face. I
shrugged and rested my head on his shoulder to look at the yellowing pages of
the book, just like I always did with Seth. Alastair cleared his throat as he
flipped through the book, looking for a story to read. Finally finding one, he
stopped and began to read.

“Once,
long ago in a small port town of the Castellian Cape, there was a young stow away,”
Alastair’s voice mesmerized me as the scene began to fold out. “He was from a
distant land, and he had accidentally boarded the ship while trying to hide
from his abusive father. The boy was not discovered until the ship had reached
the port, and he was driven away by the ship’s captain. Desperate to get food,
the boy stole from a baker, but was caught and lashed. Chased away by the town
people, the boy ran into the tropical forest that surrounded the town, and wept
for days. His wounds refused to close and left traces of blood wherever he
went. The boy blamed his father for everything, and began to hate him with his
entire soul.

One
night while the boy was crying, a man found him. The boy was going to attack
him, but something stopped him. The man was extremely handsome, and he looked
at the boy in compassion.

‘You
have been wronged by many, have you not?’ The man’s voice sounded sweet, and
the boy was soothed by its sound.

‘Yes
sir, I have and I want my justice on them,’ the boy surprised even himself as
he said this, because for once he realized it to be true. The man smiled at him,
and the boy felt joy from the man’s beauty.

‘If
vengeance is what you desire, then I will give you the power to pass judgment,’
the man drew a large book from his cloak, and tossed it to the boy. ‘All this
book requires is your blood, and you will have the power to pass judgment.’

The
boy took the book eagerly and flipped through its pages, only to find every one
of them to be blank. He turned back to the man, only to find he had
disappeared. The boy jumped in back surprise and his bloody hand brushed on of
the blank pages. The white pages soaked it up eagerly, but the stains disappeared
quickly. The boy stared at the book, and had the urge to throw it away, or burn
it or just be rid of it, but curiosity held him there. Suddenly, crimson words
appeared on the page.

‘Who
shall I pass judgment on?’ they read, and before the boy could think twice he
thought of someone.
‘My father,’
the boy thought, and the words on the
page changed again.

‘Very
well. We will bring you his head.’ The book began to shake. The boy dropped it
in fear and gaped as a monster was born. A head began to rip through the pages,
followed by a mouth, a torso and legs. The creature had inky black skin soaking
with blood. It turned its head to the boy, and the boy screamed. It had empty
sockets where its eyes should have been, and two small holes where its nose was
supposed to be. It had no lips to hide its long pointed razor like blood
stained teeth. The abomination turned away from him and ran off into the night,
and the boy took the tattered remains of the book and threw it into the trees.
He thought the horror was over, but was proved wrong when morning came.

The
boy awoke to whites of dead eyes, and he shrieked in fear. The creature from the
night before was clutching a dismembered head, still dripping fresh blood. The
boy screamed again as he realized the head was his father’s.

‘Get
out of here!’ the boy cried. ‘I don’t want your service anymore!’ The creature
sucked in raspy breaths before it spoke.

‘Very
well,’ the beast gasped as if someone had pierced its windpipe. ‘I require
payment.’ Before the boy could turn to run, the beast sank its teeth into his
throat and ripped out a chunk. The boy was unable to scream as he bled to
death, and was forced to watch the beast feast on his flesh. And so the boy was
eaten alive by the creature he had brought into this world. It is said that the
book still lures in hate filled hearts, and devours them.”

Alastair
put down the book slowly and was silent. I didn’t move either, even though I
was still leaning on his shoulder. The book was more brutal than I thought it
would be, and yet I hungered for more of its stories.

“Are
you sure you want me to read another to you before you go to bed?” Alastair
asked breaking the silence. I nodded, still in shock of the story.

“What
was that one called?” I questioned. Alastair flipped back to the beginning of
the story and checked its title.

 “
The
Demon Book,
” he answered, and I laughed.

“Pretty
straight forward,” I said. Alastair smiled.

“Yes,
it sure is,” he replied, while getting up from the bed. “You haven’t eaten in a
while, do you want breakfast?” Before I could respond my stomach released a
growl that could have been easily mistaken for a rabid dog. Alastair chuckled
and held out a hand.

“Come
on, I’ll take you to the kitchen and help you make something.” I took his hand
and rose from the bed. I no longer felt his cold attitude, but instead felt
warmth. It was as if his heart thawed out after a blizzard, revealing a hidden
tenderness. Possibly, with this one ray of sunshine that was born from
Alastair, I could survive the castle and Velkire. Maybe he would be my own
little happiness in this dark and dreary storm that seemed not only to plague
the sky, but also infect the castle. Maybe, just maybe, I could stand it as
long as he was enduring it with me.

~

Although
the sun hung in the cloudless blue sky above them, the party was exhausted by
the time Gidian was at the reins. Even Kyra was passed out in the cart. Her
knuckles were still raw. She had beaten the living day lights out of a drunkard
who tried to make a move on her while she was looking for information. Kyra was
kicked out after that, not that it mattered. All the inns were booked, and no
one was willing to take them, especially after a child was found murdered in
his bed around the same time they arrived. Gidian and Kyra both wanted to
investigate it, but the parents had literally screamed at them to get away from
the town and leave them be. With no other options, the party left, but no one
rested.

Gidian
could hear yawns from his comrades, and even he couldn’t help but yawn a little
and rub his eyes. The road they were on cut through a tiny wood. It was a
rather drab and boring sight, which didn’t help Gidian’s drowsiness. Slowly,
his lids began to get heavier, and his shoulders relaxed.

‘
Maybe
,’
he thought, ‘
if I could only close my eyes for a few seconds, just to rest
them.
’

Before
he knew it Gidian was slumped over in the seat with the reins slack in his
hands, dead asleep. Annoyed by Gidian’s sudden snoring, Siren gritted her teeth
and yanked his head back by his long hair. Gidian’s snores turned to shrieks of
pain as Siren tossed him back into the cart and took the reins herself.

“If
you’re going to fall asleep on a job, don’t do a job that’s important, Gidian,”
Siren hissed. Gidian groaned, rubbing the back of his head. There was always a
disadvantage to having long hair, but Gidian could never bear to cut it. He
liked his hair long.

Beside
him, Al was trying to suppress his laughter. Unfortunately, he wasn’t doing a
great job of it. Gidian shot a death glare and Al ceased, but stole a couple of
small smiles when his master was not looking. Al thought it was funny how his
master could be bested by someone who was barely four feet tall. It probably
wouldn’t be as funny to him if he had slept recently, but Al was giddy from his
lack of sleep. He just couldn’t help it.

Across
from him, Vaze grinned and shook his head. Unlike the others, he was bustling
with energy, despite the fact he had about as much sleep as everyone else. The
difference was he spent more than three days resting from his injuries that
were now nothing more than pink scars across his torso and arm. Out of all the
abnormalities his powers had given him, he liked quick healing the most. Well
actually, it was a close tie with flying, which he was itching to do. He could
keep his wings as nothing more than marks on his back, but he still felt as if
they were sore from not moving for so long. He wanted desperately to stretch
his wings, but he knew that if anyone passed by they might be frightened or
worse, be a spy of Velkire’s.

They
neared a fork in the road, and something caught everyone’s eyes, nearly making
Gidian’s heart sing. A nice, homey looking little inn nestled right between the
two paths, and smoke came out of its little chimney hinted with the smell of
cooking. Without question they stopped, but the minute they did Vaze began to
feel uneasy. Before Vaze could place why, the door of the inn opened and a
beautiful woman with big sparkling black eyes and rosy red lips walked out. She
flashed a dazzling smile as she approached them, and her blonde curly hair
bounced as she walked. She was tall and thin, but still had a figure that would
steal any foolish man’s heart. All Al could think was she was gorgeous.

“Welcome,”
she greeted. Her voice sounded that of an angel’s. “Are you travelers looking
for lodging, or a meal? You all look so weary.” Gidian was the first to
respond.

“If
it isn’t too much trouble for you,” he replied while hoping out of the cart, as
if the thought of a bed gave him a sudden burst of energy. “We don’t have much
money, but we’ll take whatever you’ll give us.” The woman smiled and shook her
head.

“I
won’t charge you a thing as long as you get rested.” Al couldn’t take his eyes
off of her. “Please, come in. My help will take care of your horse and cart
shortly, so you can leave it here.”

“That
would be delightful!” Gidian’s face lit up at the mention of anything being
free. “You are very kind.”

“Please,
I’m only doing a kindness that should be done out of the goodness of one’s
heart.” The woman beckoned them inside and the party followed, leaving Gidian
to carry the still sleeping Kyra. Vaze entered last. He smiled at the woman as
he passed her and she smiled back, but something about the way she looked at
him sent shivers down his spine. Everything about her was warm and inviting,
but Vaze couldn’t shake the feeling that they were all mice walking right to a
hungry cat. Then he noticed that even though it was spring and a beautiful day,
everything had gone silent. Before he could observe more, the woman pushed him
inside and closed the door.

The
inn was very room and cozy, but they seemed to be the only ones there. There
was a check-in desk beside a set of stairs and a quaint wooden door. An entry
way led out to a dining room where a large table with plates and other dining
utensils were already set.

“You
can all have separate rooms upstairs, and there a change of clothes that each
of you can change into if you wish,” the woman went on to say as she got out
her check-in book. She took out a long quill pen and a vial of black ink.
“Names, please?” They each gave her their names and she scratched them onto the
page hastily. Vaze poked his head over casually and snuck a peek at the book.
All the names of past residents were crossed out in red ink, and he assumed
that they had checked out not too long ago judging by the dates. The woman
snapped the book closed, and Vaze thought he saw a flash of anger on her face,
but she was smiling warmly a second later.

“You
can take Miss Kyra up to her room. It will be the last door on the right at the
end of the hall,” she said kindly. “I will bring her some supper when she
awakens, but for now I want you all to freshen up before you eat. If you need
me, just call for Matilda, alright?” After that they all went to their rooms.
Gidian put Kyra into her bed without changing her into night clothes, leaving
Kyra in her tough leather gear. It made him nervous to be around women who were
close to his age, so he couldn’t bear changing one.