BOOK 9: CHAPTER 30: GUILTY BY ASSOCIATION

“Can you help him?”

Ron knelt beside Nerthus, who lay on Elijah’s bed inside the treehouse. The spryggent still hadn’t fully recovered, though for the life of him, Elijah couldn’t figure out why. He’d spent the past day-and-a-half healing his friend, and though he’d improved, he still hadn’t regained consciousness. Ron had arrived only a few minutes before, but his presence was an encouraging turn of events.

“I don’t know. Give me a moment,” the Healer said, laying his hand on Nerthus’ chest. Outwardly, the spryggent didn’t even look injured. His wooden flesh had long since mended, leaving Elijah dumbfounded as to how he was meant to help. After a few moments, Ron opened his eyes and said, “It’s an affliction. Probably caused by an alchemical concoction. What happened here?”

Emotionlessly, Elijah explained everything he knew about the invasion. His anger still roiled in one facet of his mind, but he maintained enough control that he didn’t let it affect him. Not yet, at least. The time for that would come later, when Nerthus was safe.

“Can you heal him?” asked Elijah.

“I can. It’s going to take a while, though. Maybe a few days. I assume the people who attacked him had toxins on their blades, and they were specifically designed to affect his species,” Ron stated. “Technically, I’m not even curing it. I’m just keeping him alive long enough for the effects to wear off.”

“Will my help make it faster?” Elijah asked.

“No. I can handle it myself. Elijah, what are you going to do?”

Elijah sat on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing. “How did you know to come here?”

“Hope. She and that little gnome girl came to get me,” Ron answered. “I’d just gotten back from Philadelphia.”

“I see. I’ll need to thank her, then. And thank you, as well,” Elijah said. “Feel free to take whatever you need while you’re here. The kitchen is stocked.”

Ron reached out to grab Elijah’s arm. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Do you really want to hear this?”

“I think I’m entitled.”

“And if I don’t tell you, you’ll refuse to help him?”

“Fuck you, Elijah,” Ron spat. “You know me better than that. I won’t leave his side until he’s fully healed.”

Elijah sighed, pushing his fury away. It was on the verge of spilling over into another facet of his mind. If it did, he wasn’t certain he could keep himself under control. After everything that had happened, he needed to release it. He needed to do something.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just…I’m going to find out where these people came from,” Elijah said. “And I’m going to deal with it.”

“Elijah…”

“What if the kids would have been on that beach?” he asked. “That’s what I keep thinking about, you know. What they did was bad enough. They killed a guardian. They murdered my crabs. They were going to kill Biggle, too. They’d have swept across this island, pillaging and murdering. But what if I hadn’t gotten the kids to safety? They wouldn’t have let that stop them. You know that. It could have been Hope. Or Rosabella. Or any of the others. I can’t let that stand. If I don’t come down on them, right here and now, with every ounce of fury I can muster, I’m just inviting more of the same.”

He clenched his fists. That was part of it. A big part, he kept telling himself. But more than he wanted to admit, he knew he just wanted to kill the people responsible. He wanted them to pay. He needed them to know the price of invading his grove, and on an instinctual level that he could not deny.

“It’s not your fault.”

“What?” asked Elijah.

“It’s not your fault. This…it happens. People are –”

“Of course it’s my fault. Thank you for helping Nerthus. I will make it up to you, one way or another.”

With that, Elijah strode from the treehouse, and as soon as he was outside, he took on the Shape of the Sky and launched himself into the air. A second later, he was flying across the strait. His first stop was in Ironshore, and he landed outside the government building.

Fortunately, Ramik rushed outside before Elijah had to go searching for him.

“What happened?” the goblin asked. “We heard explosions, and there are reports of a ship nearby? We’re ready to help.”

“You mean that?”

“Of course.”

“Good. I need you to round up everyone in this city who’s been to my grove,” Elijah said. “Leave the kids out of it.”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it, Ramik. You’ll understand when I’m done here.”

The mayor definitely didn’t seem comfortable with it, but he seemed to trust Elijah enough to do what he’d been asked. Soon enough, the city guard fanned out across the city. While they went off in search of the people in question, Elijah sat on the building’s steps. For once, he barely noticed the architecture. Instead, he focused entirely on his grove, cataloguing the number of dead. Seventy-four animals. One guardian. More than a hundred plants.

And one very injured spryggent.

But it went deeper than mere numbers. The sanctity of the grove had been violated.

After about fifteen minutes, the first few people arrived. Over the next half hour, the others joined them. Most of them were the refugees he’d rescued from Chimera Island, but there were a few Builders there as well. It took Elijah a few moments to recognize that they were the ones who’d constructed his dock.

Even Sue Anne was there.

“This is everyone,” Ramik said after talking to one of the guards.

By that point, the gathering had drawn a few spectators. Elijah pushed himself to his feet, then slammed the butt of his scythe into the stone step. “My grove has been violated,” he said. “The intruders knew the island. They had directions to my most valuable treasures. They nearly killed my friend, and they murdered dozens of animals. I killed them all and sank their ships, but they did not act alone. I intend to make all involved parties pay.

“To that end, I need to know which of you told the invaders what you saw in my grove. Lie to me, and I will kill you and your families. If I have to, I will raze all of Ironshore. I don’t want to do that. If you want to save your people, tell me what I need to know. Perhaps I will spare your life,” he said, his voice even. He didn’t let an ounce of emotion into his voice. He wasn’t making threats. He was stating facts. “Go ahead. Tell me.”

As he spoke, he let his senses envelop the people before him. Most were justifiably terrified, but it wasn’t difficult to find the guilty parties. Not only were their hearts beating out of control, but they couldn’t control their ethera, either.

“You have ten seconds. Then, I’ll find the culprits myself.”

As it turned out, that was precisely what he was forced to do. The three people had no chance of evading him, and he’d soon dragged them onto the steps. Once there, he began his interrogation.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

It didn’t take long to get the full story. All three had been rescued from Chimera Island and had found work as caravan guards, and they’d been telling anyone who would listen about everything they’d seen in Elijah’s grove. That included descriptions of Nerthus, which was probably why the invaders had known to coat their weapons in a toxin specific to his species.

It was disgusting.

Elijah beheaded all three before anyone could react. He hadn’t even heard their pleas for mercy. None of it mattered. If he didn’t do what was necessary now, he would need to go much, much further in the future.

Turning to a stunned Ramik, he said, “I expect you to gather these corpses and take them to the island. Leave them on the dock. I have plans for them.”

Without waiting for a reply, Elijah initiated a transformation into the Shape of the Sky, then took off to the south. His next stop was nearly a thousand miles away, which meant he had a few hours of flight ahead of him.

As he flew, he went over everything that had happened. He didn’t consider the morality of it. He refused. Moreover, he let his anger fully take hold, and it spurred him further on his quest for justice.

* * *

It was a normal day.

The sun was shining, and the seas were calm. Rusty took a swig from his canteen, letting the lukewarm water soothe his parched throat. When he pulled the container away from his lips, he wiped his mouth and let out an appreciative sigh.

“Wish it was whiskey,” he muttered to himself.

Rusty did not have a drinking problem. Or at least that was what he kept telling himself. Night after night, he ended up in the tavern drinking himself into a stupor, though. Part of that was just a rational response to a world gone mad. Sure, years had passed since the world had gone to hell, but Rusty had never fully adjusted to it.

Few people had.

Instead, he’d wandered around, eventually stopping in a settlement whose name he couldn’t even remember. Things had been even worse there. Constant battle with rival settlements meant that every able-bodied man was expected to fight. Rusty had never been that sort of guy, preferring instead to sit in his mom’s basement and play video games with his friends.

By necessity, he’d changed.

His mom was dead. Her house was gone. And his friends – well, he hadn’t heard from any of them since everything had gone to shit. He was alive, though. Much to his surprise. That other settlement had eventually been overrun by the enemy, and he’d spent almost a year as a slave, only escaping when he’d managed to lull his master into a false sense of security.

He’d bashed that old woman’s head in with a rock.

For a while after that, he’d wandered the wilderness until, at last, finding his way to Bloodrock Bay. There, he’d found work as a bouncer, which in turn, had gotten him a position as a bully boy – the nominal guards of the pirate enclave. And rightly so. The pudginess that had come from his old life was gone, replaced by a Warrior’s muscle. He wasn’t the highest level around, but he was stronger than most.

And he was dependable, and in a pirate settlement, that set him apart from everyone else.

It wasn’t the worst way to spend the apocalypse. He was afforded a decent salary, he got to beat people up, and he had plenty of free time to peruse the city’s wares. He glanced back, gazing longingly at Red Level – the section of the cliff-side city dedicated to all the best brothels.

He let out another sigh. Only six more hours until his shift was up.

To distract himself, he leaned forward in his seat and looked through the scope attached to his turret. The ethera cannon, like the dozen others dotting the docks, had come from some weapon’s dealer in Seattle. Rusty had seen first-hand just how much of a punch it could pack, and he often amused himself by imagining some uppity ship coming into the bay hellbent on conquest.

It would get quite an unwelcome surprise.

He squinted at the horizon.

There was something out there. It looked like a rogue wave, except that it was only about fifty feet across. He looked closer, and as it drew to the bay’s narrow opening, Rusty caught sight of something leathery.

“Blue alert! Monster sighting!” he shouted into his communicator. It was just a shortwave radio, though it ran off ethera.

The speaker crackled.

“Say again? You seeing things again, Rus?”

“You tell me, Carl. Look at the bay’s opening. You see it, right?”

“What? That’s just a wave…oh, shit. That thing’s fucking big! Blue alert! Cannon two, prepared to fire!”

Rusty said the same about his own cannon, and ten others followed suit. The thing kept coming closer and closer until, at last, it was within range. The cannons fired in unison, sending huge balls of ethera arcing across the bay to slam into the water. The sea hissed in response, sending a geyser of steam and surf high into the air.

“Shit! Miss! That thing’s moving fast!”

“Adjusting aim! Fire!”

The next volley was on target, but by that point, the thing was only a few hundred feet away. And for all their power, the cannons couldn’t stop the oncoming monster. Behind him, the alarm bells had already begun to ring – good, he’d forgotten about that – but Rusty wasn’t worried about warning anyone else.

Because the monster was coming right at him. Or rather, at the dock where he was stationed. He leaped free, diving into the salty water only a second before it crashed into the dock, which crumpled under the impact, sending splintered wood flying.

That’s when Rusty caught sight of the creature. It was an enormous turtle, though unlike any he’d ever seen. Great ridges of bone stood above its eyes, and its beak reminded him of a snapping turtle. The shell was mostly smooth, though with a line of bony spikes running along its length and onto its crocodilian tail.

The thing was a monster, and it seemed entirely focused on destroying everything in its path.

Even as Rusty frantically swam away – aiming for the rock cliff that extended out into the sea – the creature ripped the docks to shreds. The ships, too. Even the ones made of metal and fiberglass couldn’t stand against its might. The cannons were useless against the thing, and even when the pirates managed to mount a response, their attacks fell harmlessly on its protective shell.

And when they did manage to do damage, the wounds healed after only a few moments.

By that point, Rusty had hauled himself onto an escarpment, giving himself a good view of the battle. Sure, he should have joined the fight. It was his job. But he was no idiot. Bloodrock Bay was doomed. Even if they managed to fight the thing off – unlikely, it seemed – almost everyone who fought would die.

Hiding was just good sense, even if some would have considered it cowardice or a dereliction of duty.

He didn’t let those kinds of thoughts affect him, though.

In the space of only a few minutes, the entire dock – which was big enough to accommodate more than a hundred ships – had been reduced to driftwood. But then, just when Rusty thought the monster would be mollified by so much destruction, the unthinkable happened.

It transformed.

He almost didn’t believe his eyes, but he couldn’t deny that, where a giant, primordial sea turtle had once stood, there was now a man wreathed in green fire. A second later, that man was replaced by a completely different monster, though not one Rusty felt qualified to identify. It was reptilian in nature, but from a distance, it almost looked like it was part plant as well.

One thing was certain though – it was ruthless.

Rusty watched as the creature ripped people in half, either with its own two hands or the vines growing out of its shoulders and encircling its arms. Even its tail whipped around, impaling anyone who came near.

It didn’t take people long to decide that fighting was destined to be a losing battle. They fled, climbing the ramps and ladders in their haste to escape. That’s when the monster transformed again, taking on a low-slung, quadrupedal shape that seemed like someone had mixed a crocodile, a panther, and a snake. Sinuous and incredibly fast, it chased down anyone who tried to retreat. One bite was all it took – even a glancing blow was enough – and those people fell, seizing on the ground.

Rusty lost track of how long he stared at the massacre. One by one, everyone there died. Even those who leaped into the bay and tried to swim away were hunted down and killed.

Finally, once it was done, the monster once again transformed, taking on the shape of a man. There was no fire, though. In fact, he looked almost ordinary – at least from a distance – save for the fact that he was wearing all white and carried a wicked-looking scythe.

Then, he jerked his head in Rusty’s direction.

“Shit,” he muttered, clambering backward as his head jumped into his throat. He was just considering his chances of escape when something thumped onto the ground behind him.

Rusty turned to find the man standing there.

He wore a white suit, with green embroidery decorating only one sleeve. Blood covered so much of the fabric that it had taken on a mottled appearance. Otherwise, the man looked normal, save for the glint of something green around his neck.

“I…I don’t know who you are, but –”

“Stop,” the man interrupted in a cold, emotionless voice. “I’m not going to kill you.”

“What? Why? I mean, really?”

“Really. But I want you to do two things for me. One of them is going to be difficult. The other, not so much.”

“I’ll do anything.”

“Well, the easy one is that I want you to spread the word,” the man stated. “I want you to tell everyone what it means to anger Elijah Hart.”

“Is that…you?”

Rusty had heard the name. He’d seen it atop the leaderboard before the Trial of Primacy. Before him stood the most powerful man in the world, and after what he’d just seen, he had no trouble believing the veracity of that label.

“It is. The second one is going to be harder. I want you to gather the bodies for me. Every last one. Pile them over there,” he said, pointing toward the only intact portion of the dock. “I’ll be back for them.”

“What about…the loot?”

“I don’t want it.”

Then, Hart once again transformed – it looked both physical and magical – taking on the form of a winged creature that bore a striking resemblance to a dragon, though one with multi-colored scales. Without further conversation, the creature launched itself into the air and flew away.

For a moment, Rusty just sat there, unsure of what he was supposed to do. His first instinct was to run. Two things stopped him. First, much of the city remained intact, and that meant there was a lot of wealth to plunder. Second, he feared what would happen if he didn’t do as Elijah Hart had ordered.

So, he rose on shaky legs and dove into the water, intent on gathering the corpses of his fellow residents of Bloodrock Bay. He pointedly did not think about what Hart might do with them.

That was the thing about living in the apocalypse. Asking questions like that got a man killed. And Rusty, for all of his other faults, was a survivor.