Chained Soul by Eva Chase
4
August
The portals out of the Mists always point to the most peaceful parts of the human world. I’ve led my assorted group of fae warriors out onto the shore of a small, gleaming lake, this section sheltered from the rest of the shoreline by a thick stand of trees. The sounds—and smells—of occasional nearby traffic carry on the cool breeze, and with just a couple of steps, I can see the buildings along the city streets a short walk away.
Dawn light is only just creeping across the sky, the shadows still long and the sunlight dim around us. We timed this venture as well as we could in the hopes of finding more Murk activity while most humans are still sleeping—and reducing the chances that any humans might be caught in the fray if we get the opportunity to attack.
As we pause to confirm that our concealing spells have held solid during the trip through the portal, Kesral comes up beside me. Sylas asked the winter arch-lords to contribute some of their people to this mission so that we’d have a full range of skills to draw on. If this goes well, we might find ourselves tangling with more rats than we ever have before, and closer to their home turf than our own.
The Unseelie warrior peers at the glass disc I’m holding. “That little thing is going to find the Murk for us when nothing else did?”
I can’t blame him for being skeptical. I gave Whitt an odd look of my own when he started explaining his new tool to me.
“I’ve seen it in action,” I tell him. “Only on a much smaller scale than this, though. And we’ll need to keep all our senses on the alert the whole time for any other sign of the rats. Our goal is to see if we can locate any sort of colony here, and if we have the upper hand in numbers, we’ll take as many rats back for questioning as we can. It’ll be easier if we notice them before they notice us.”
Kesral nods, and I study the smudge of Talia’s blood that marks the disc. We have every reason to believe there should be some Murk presence in this city. The rat shifter who helped Talia escape let her out onto these streets from their main colony, the one she said they call the King’s Refuge. Even if the Refuge itself isn’t here, because of the magical tricks they use to warp the paths between it and the world above ground, this is a location that’s tied to it at least some of the time. We’ve caught hints of the Murk here and there during our past expeditions.
If we can find even one who could take us to the Refuge itself, we’ll be within reach of a much bigger victory.
The urge grips me to tear straight through the city, savaging any of the vermin I stumble on—the horrible creatures that stole my mate away and tormented her. To protect both her and the child growing in her in the most immediate and thorough way I can. Just the thought of the pain they caused her brings up a fresh flare of defensive anger into my chest, alongside a twinge of affection even headier than any I’ve felt before.
We haven’t spoken about it, and I don’t see any need to, but it’s most likely the child is mine. The one benefit to having much less fae in my blood than my true-blooded and nearly true-blooded brothers and Unseelie counterpart is that I won’t suffer as much trouble having children as they will. My seed would have taken root more easily than any of theirs.
As happy as the knowledge makes me, Talia’s current state makes her more vulnerable. I will not let her meet the same fate as so many humans caught up in fae passions. She deserves much better. And right now, the Murk are by far the greatest threat to her safety and happiness.
But as much as my fangs tingle in my gums, I know Talia is right about holding back our violence. I might not trust one hair on a rat’s ass, but they’re planning something bigger than what a single rampage of wolves could prevent. We need to find out more to be fully prepared, to hit them where it’ll really hurt.
And that means keeping the bastards alive long enough to drag some information out of them.
My entire squadron knows the drill. As I set off toward the city streets, they fall into a loose formation behind me. The smear of blood offers an increasingly definite point to the south.
I keep my attention focused on it, knowing my companions will be scanning for any other signs of Murk presence while I can’t. Every minute or two, I stop and give the smear a chance to shift. When the angle changes slightly, I head down a different street and then cross a broad courtyard.
A few human early-risers meander down the streets past us obliviously, our spells nudging them to avoid us without them even realizing they’re being influenced. The smell of fresh bread with a rich nuttiness tickles into my nose from a nearby bakery just getting started for the day, and my mouth waters. If we weren’t on such an urgent mission, I’d stop to steal a little for sampling. Instead, I walk on.
At my next stop, the pointed part of the blood doesn’t adjust at all. The Murk must be close ahead.
One of my pack-kin sniffs the air and grins sharply. “I catch a whiff of rat. We’re almost on them.”
“Proceed slowly, watching for any hint of their presence,” I remind the others. “We don’t want them to know we’re coming until we’re ready to strike.”
We murmur our concealing spells thicker around us and tread onward, eyes sharpening and ears pricking. I shift more of my concentration to our surroundings, already knowing where Talia’s blood is directing us.
Up ahead lies a narrow street lined with buildings three and four stories tall. With the sun so low, the shadows they cast cover the entire road. The windows are dark, all the inhabitants no doubt still in bed.
At the far end of the street, I can make out a larger structure that has a grand look to it—maybe a government building or a museum of some sort? Have the Murk managed to take over some part of that as their own?
My hackles rise. We’re protecting not just ourselves and my mate but all the humans the rats would play their vicious tricks on too. Both worlds will be a better place if we can clear out the worst of the vermin.
Talia says they’re not all horrible, but the sweetness in her that always sees the best in people is part of the reason I fell in love with her. I’ve never encountered a rat worth spitting on if it were on fire. But I guess once we’ve captured a few to talk with, we’ll find out whether any will prove themselves worthy of her compassion.
My warriors spread out across the streets in a wider formation, checking doorways and the few tight alleys between the buildings. Talia’s blood still points straight ahead. I don’t think we’re close enough to discover the rats yet, but I don’t see how it’ll hurt anything to make a quick inspection here regardless. We don’t have to be fully braced for battle until we’re nearly on top of them. How could they know we’d be tracking them so easily now?
But maybe I should have considered all I know about the Murk and their tricks a little more.
We’re nearly at the end of the street when I glance down at the glass disc again and jerk to a halt, frowning at it. The most obvious point is aimed forward like before, but… has the entire smear gotten larger?
My squadron stops around me, waiting for my instructions. I stare at the disc and then press my thumb against the other side, framing the splotch of blood. At least, framing it at first. Now that I have another shape for comparison, I can see how the ruddy mark is expanding, creeping ever so slowly to match the width of my thumb. And the original point is starting to contract—
Understanding hits me with a chilling smack, a moment too late. “Back-to-back!” I shout. “They’re surrounding us!”
But even as the words burst from my lips, a flurry of bodies spring at us from the thickest shadows along the edge of the buildings, all around us. The Murk tackle several of the warriors closest to them to the ground, blades flashing in their hands, needle-sharp claws glinting.
My own claws erupt along with my fangs. I lunge at the nearest flailing bodies, snatching my sword from its hilt as I go.
The Murk attackers managed to surround us—so quickly and discreetly we didn’t pick up any trace of them even in our search. As I wrench a rat shifter away from one of my comrades and ram my sword into his gut before he can stab his knife at my throat, the pieces click together somewhere in the back of my mind.
We thought we knew what we were up against. We thought we’d prepared for the Murk to be stronger and slyer than we’d ever have anticipated before. But we underestimated them all the same.
They must have had a scout watching the portal where we came through who ran ahead to warn the others nearby. Either that one observed my new tool, or they’ve been able to spy on us so closely in our own world that they found out about our new use for Talia’s blood ahead of time. They grouped together so that we’d be drawn on a clear course, and then surrounded us at just the right pace so that the movement didn’t show up clearly on the disc. And they concealed themselves even more cleverly than I thought they could manage with us right here next to them.
The Murk aren’t just the worst of the current threats we’re facing. They might now be the worst threat we’ve ever faced.
It’s not just their stealth and cunning that’s allowed them to momentarily overwhelm us either. As well as the slash of blades and claws, the fae who’ve launched themselves at us are snapping out words of magic. One opens a deep cut in a Seelie warrior’s arm without even touching her. Another makes an Unseelie fighter’s feet fly out from under him so she can leap onto him and stab him in the back.
As I slam and slice through one rat shifter and then another, I register that there are more of us than them. The Murk probably didn’t expect to completely overpower us, only to take down as many of us as they could before they were cut down themselves. My warriors are rallying, but the surprise of the attack got the better of some. Several of my comrades are sprawled in the street between the fallen rat shifters, a few struggling with their wounds, others gone limp, possibly dead.
I don’t have the chance to help any of them right now. Yet another Murk dives at me from an unexpected angle, and his claws dig deep into my shoulder before I manage to drive my sword through his heart. As he crumples, a pained grunt catches in my ears. I spin to see two of the rat shifters lunging at Kesral from both sides.
The Unseelie warrior who’s joined Talia and me on past trips to the human world is no slouch. He batters one of the desperate attackers away with the flat of his sword and then plunges the blade into the Murk woman’s chest. But the smack of his other arm isn’t enough to deflect the second attacker. The Murk man rams his knife right into the side of Kesral’s neck.
I’m already dashing toward him. As he crumples, a roar of rage rips from my lungs. My wolf surges free automatically, my furred frame crashing into the vermin. My fangs sink into his own neck to tear open his throat.
The sickly metallic flavor of the Murk man’s blood floods my mouth. There’s nothing appetizing about it. I shove his slackening body away, sputtering, and shift back into the form of a man.
When I drop at Kesral’s side, his eyes are already staring blankly at the sky. The blood spurting from the severed artery is slowing into a fainter pulse as the last shreds of his life drain out of him. There’s nothing I can do for him.
Looking up at the scene around me, anguish squeezes my heart. The fighting is over. The last of the Murk are dead. But too many of my own people lie slumped between them. A few of the warriors who have particular skill at healing are leaning over those who haven’t succumbed to their wounds yet, but I can tell at least a couple of them are fading.
Kesral is gone. I have to help those there’s still hope for.
With a lump in my throat, I leave him and hurry to an Unseelie man who’s intoning panicked words over one of my pack-kin who has a gash across her stomach. I join him, adding my own true names to the chorus.
We manage to bind her flesh to seal her wound, but the blood she’s already lost drenches her clothes. Her eyes flutter shut, and her head lolls. I can’t tell whether she’ll survive the trauma she’s been through.
None of the Murk have. I should be able to take some grim satisfaction from their dead bodies. But as I rush to the next injured warrior, the knowledge drags on my spirits instead.
The Murk have already discovered our new strategy against them and used it against us. We’ve lost several of our people in a horrible way. And we didn’t even manage to take one of the blasted vermin captive for questioning like we’d planned. In every way, this mission was a failure.
When I’ve done what I can for those who are gravely injured, I straighten up and catch the eyes of my comrades who are still relatively unharmed. I will the roughness of grief and frustration out of my voice, but only barely.
“Carry the dead and those who can’t walk with whatever magic you can most easily use. We’ll bring them home.”
And then I’ll face the judgment I deserve.
