Vainglory 3.35 - Sacrifice

I hope you enjoy the chapter :)

Thanks for reading and for the feedback; I appreciate it all.

-Plum

35 – Sacrifice

Ward skulked in an alley across the street from the gates leading to Fitz’s estate. It was already after sundown, but he had a feeling he might be waiting a while if he hoped to catch Haley doing…something. He wasn’t sure what, but he had a hunch—a feeling that said she’d slip out in the night—and he was eager to put his suspicions to rest. If Rose were right, Haley had been out the night before, and Ward’s logical mind said she’d need to rest tonight, but his gut told him he was wrong; she’d go out again.

Of course, Fitz was planning a nice dinner, so she wouldn’t miss that, which meant Ward would likely be lurking around for a couple more hours. He summoned his good wool coat from his magical bag and stuffed his arms into the sleeves, then he pulled out his wide-brimmed felted wool hat, tucking it down so he could shield the glow of his eyes beneath the brim. As he stuffed his hands into his pockets, leaning against the bricks of a candlemaker’s shop, Grace appeared.

“You really think you can follow her without getting caught?”

Ward shrugged. “Maybe. I’ll try to let the wolf off his leash a little; he should be all rested up by now.”

Grace nodded, her face pensive, her gaze fixated on Fitz’s gates across the street. After a minute or two, she asked, “What do you think she’s doing?”

“You mean when she’s out? I don’t know. I can’t imagine her doing anything shady. You know Haley. There’s definitely something off about her, though.”

“If you say so, but I still don’t see it…”

“C’mon. You heard Rose. She sensed Haley out and about last night. How does that work, by the way? She sure seemed to see an awful lot for a blind woman.”

“You think she’s blind?”

“Well, she wore a cloth over her eyes…”

“Maybe she sees too much.” Grace didn’t offer any further explanation, but her words gave Ward something to contemplate. There was certainly a lot more to Master Rose than met the eye. He wondered if that went hand in hand with the higher mastery of Gopah or if she was special in some other way before even learning the art. Haley was special, too, and it made him wonder if reaching the higher ranks of Gopah had that effect on a person. It was a chicken-or-the-egg sort of question.

He could see the difference in Haley since she’d started mastering the “white” rank, or however you were supposed to classify it. She’d pretty much outshone him and the others in the Garden Gates. If it hadn’t been for his lycan bloodline, he doubted he could have kept up with her.

“What comes after white?” he asked.

Grace was quick-witted, but she looked at him with narrowed eyes. “What?”

“In Gopah?”

“Oh. Haley said it goes white, gray, black, then, um, sky and soul.”

“And before white?”

“Yellow, brown, green, blue, and red.”

“So, she’s more than halfway there.”

Grace nodded. “Judging by her excited chatter about her time with Master Rose, she’s basically already gray. So, yes.”

Ward sighed heavily. “She’s so damn talented. God, I hope this isn’t any big deal. I can’t stand the idea of Haley suffering more.”

“You and me both.” Grace folded her arms, scooting behind Ward as a pair of women walked by, bundled in colorful high-necked coats. She whispered, “You look like a vagabond, lurking here.”

“Yeah, but it’s too dark for most people to notice me.” To Ward, the night was easier to see by than daylight—there wasn’t any need to squint against harsh glares, and the surfaces veritably glowed with the luminescent light of the stars and moon. Distant street lamps threw amber blooms on the sides of buildings, and he could see, hear, and smell far better than when the place was flooded with sunlight and the sounds and scents of busy traffic.

“It is dark. Do you think you’ll have trouble seeing her?”

Ward snorted. “I was just thinking about that. All my senses work better in the dark. I can see over there as plain as day.”

“Why can’t I?” Grace pouted. “I should be able to access your senses!”

Ward shrugged. “Maybe you’re doing something wrong.”

She gave him a frustrated shove. “I don’t do anything!”

“Well, don’t look at me. I sure as hell don’t.”

They bantered back and forth for a while, nothing much coming of it, but it helped to pass the time. After an hour or so, Ward thought about trying to talk to Pallishae, but he didn’t want to have the spirit in the amulet expend his mana to come forth only to have their conversation interrupted when Ward caught sight of Haley. So, he bided his time, memorizing the scents in the air, studying the gate and high wall surrounding Fitz’s estate, until, nearly another full hour later, he saw movement and caught a very familiar scent.

“There she is,” he hissed, watching a darkly cloaked form gracefully ascend the wall beside the gate and drift to the ground, as light on her feet as a cat. She darted across the street and then turned, moving rapidly away from Ward. He gave chase, the leather, soft-soled shoes he’d purchased making soft scuffs on the cobbled sidewalk. He’d known his usual boots weren’t an option. When he ran in them, he sounded like a galloping horse.

He kept his distance, trusting that his nose would lead him back to Haley if he lost sight of her. She was quick and lithe, and scaled more than one wall at the end of an alley, but one thing was a constant: she continually moved south. Ward did lose sight of her numerous times, but as he’d hoped, his nose never lost the trail. Sometimes, he’d let her take an alley while he sprinted ahead to the next street, using his other senses to keep track of her while he made up ground.

He frequently saw members of the city watch, but their bright lanterns and predictable movements made them easy to avoid. Ward assumed Haley felt the same way. As the broad, cobbled roads narrowed and the tall, stately buildings grew increasingly plain and crowded together, the peacekeepers became less common, and more people lingered in the alleys. Those night-people were no obstacle for Haley or Ward, though; they staggered back, making superstitious signs with their fingers as they ran past.

Eventually, Haley entered what had to be the “slums” of Ordo Caelus. The streets had a steep slope to them, and the sewer gases created a haze in the air near the prominent grates. People lingered on corners, drinking, laughing, and, in some instances, brawling. Haley never slowed, darting from shadowy alley to shadowy alley, avoiding lamp posts and bypassing the larger crowds. Ward followed her, leaving a good hundred yards between them at all times.

Because of that wide gap, he was almost startled to find her at the end of a dark, narrow, refuse-strewn alley, hunched over the insensate form of a rough-looking man. His eyes were purpling with swollen bruises, and his nose streamed blood. Haley, crouched beside him, her cloak obscuring her figure, as a silvery mist drifted out of the man’s chest and toward her cowled face.

There was no exit from the alley, save the way they’d come, not unless they wanted to scale a tall building or break through a closed door. Ward moved out of the shadows, into the gap between the two brick walls, and cleared his throat. “Haley.”

Haley jerked her cowled face toward him, exhaling a gout of the silvery mist as her bright, pale eyes narrowed and she hissed, “Leave!”

“What are you doing?” he asked, holding out his hands, trying to show he wasn’t a threat. “Did that guy hurt you?”

Haley growled, a scratchy feral sound, and turned back to the man, once again, inhaling that silvery mist. Grace appeared between Ward and the strange scene, shaking her head. “I think that’s anima! Haley! What are you doing?”

Haley hissed again, leaped to her feet, spun, and swiped a lightning-fast punch at Grace. Amazingly, it didn’t pass through her; it smashed into her chest and sent her sprawling. Grace cried out as she fell to the alley floor, and Ward hurried forward. “Haley!”

He was surprised by her violence and more surprised by her ability to strike Grace, but what really threw him off in that moment was the way she looked at him—like he was a stranger. Worse, she licked her lips, grinned, and nodded. “You’ll do, then.” Then, she was on him with a flurry of strikes and kicks that he couldn’t possibly track. Even so, he got his arms up in front of his face, deflecting the worst of the impacts.

Her fists were hard, and if he didn’t know better, he’d swear her kicks were coming from a damn mule. Nevertheless, Ward was a big, sturdy man, and his lycan blood made him incredibly resilient. He shrugged off her attacks, allowing her to drive him back further into the alley, mostly because he wanted to get her away from her previous victim. As she continued to batter him, Ward came to believe she was using her body’s muscle memory, but she wasn’t actively using Gopah. Her hands weren’t hot, and she didn’t do any of the fancy flourishes and combinations he'd seen her perform so many times as she practiced.

After a few more seconds of the battery, he growled, grinning savagely as he said, “You’re not Haley.”

“Oh? Am I not?” she crooned, her voice suddenly high and playful, snapping a kick at Ward’s jaw. He wove back, narrowly avoiding the blow.

“It’s not her, Ward!” Grace confirmed, clambering to her feet.

“Hush, you bitch!” Haley snarled, whirling to face her. Ward didn’t hesitate. He surged forward and grabbed her in a bear hug. Haley screamed and kicked, and Ward had a good feeling she would have thrown him if he hadn’t lifted her feet off the ground, and if he didn’t have a hundred pounds on her. He held her tight, pressing his chin against her neck to keep her from smashing her head back and into his face.

“Stop fighting,” he growled, squeezing harder.

“Just let me feed!” she whined, suddenly plaintive.

“Hold her!” Grace said, approaching, tentatively stretching a hand out toward Haley. She kicked and jerked, viciously driving her heels into Ward’s shins, but, thankfully, she was wearing soft, leather slippers, not unlike moccasins, and his body was tough. Grace, perhaps finding her courage, reached out and snatched Haley’s wrist, gasping as she grabbed onto it. “I can touch her!”

“Release me, vile thing!” Haley snarled, spitting in her vehemence.

“Grace, I gotta…” Ward grunted, his words failing him as he struggled against Haley’s mad thrashing. She might have been a lot smaller than he, but she was strong.

“Just a minute,” Grace said, and then the fires in her eyes flared. Haley let out such a wail—a tortured scream that became a mewling sob after just a few seconds. Grace lost her grip on Haley’s wrist, and she suddenly went limp in Ward’s arms. Ward turned her, trying to hold her up as he looked at her face. She was utterly unconscious, though her breathing seemed steady.

“What did you do?”

“I, well, nothing much, really! I just tried to speak to her as I would one of my own kind. I think it drove whatever it is into a corner.” She reached for Haley’s hand, but her fingers passed through it. “I can’t touch her anymore.”

The man Haley had been “feeding” on grunted and groaned, and Ward hoisted Haley to his shoulder. “Let’s get the hell out of here. Somebody had to have noticed all that screaming.” He didn’t wait for Grace to respond, turning and bounding toward the alley mouth.

“Your hat!” Grace cried.

“Forget it!” he growled, loping forward. As he approached the alley mouth, he saw a pair of men in heavy dark overcoats peering into the darkness. One was bleary-eyed, clearly drunk, but the other looked shrewd as his dark eyes narrowed at Ward. “Get out of my way,” he growled, bowling into him, sending him stumbling back.

“Fakin’ churl!” the man blurted, stumbling onto the cobbled street, turning his ankle in the gutter, and falling onto his butt. Ward charged across the street, Haley bouncing on his shoulder, and then he was in another alley, sprinting into the darkness.

“Grace,” he called between ragged breaths.

Suddenly, she was jogging backwards in front of him, perfectly at ease with the pace. “What?”

“Guide me to Rose’s. I got a little turned around.”

“Okay. Just follow me and make sure you look at the street signs as we come to them.”

Ward nodded, falling into step behind her as Grace turned and ran, guiding him past one street, down another, into an alley, then to a short wall. All the while, Haley bounced on his shoulder, her arms flapping against his leg. He hoped he wasn’t doing any harm to her, but he wasn’t too worried; Haley was fit and used to physical punishment. She could handle some bruised ribs and abdominal muscles.

When Grace led him to that first short wall, he used a discarded barrel as a step, then hauled himself over, jumping down with Haley still over his shoulder. He imagined trying to do that back when he was a cop in Seattle and snorted at the idea; he’d have busted a knee for sure. Before they started running again, he switched Haley to his other shoulder, then nodded, and Grace took off.

They avoided a few patrolling members of the watch, and Ward made good time despite the general uphill slope of the streets. By the time they came to Rose’s neighborhood, he was soaked with sweat, but he wasn’t all that tired. He felt like he could have made the run again, and he hadn’t even let his wolf out.

As he had the thought, it occurred to him that he didn’t have to. He was more and more entwined with the wolf. He had its senses. He had a lot of its strength and speed. Sure, he could get more vicious and powerful if he gave his alter ego full rein, but even as a man, Ward was pretty much half wolf.

“Look out!” Grace hissed, and Ward ducked behind the corner of an estate’s vine-covered wall. A watchman was approaching, his lamp bright before him.

Ward, breathing deep and slow through his nose to catch his wind, backed up, crouching down into the shadows, waiting for the man to pass.

“You’re right out in the open!” Grace whispered.

“I’m in the dark,” he hissed, “and he’s blinding himself with that damn lamp.” Sure enough, the watchman strolled past, the pool of his light falling about ten feet shy of Ward’s position. As his footfalls receded, Ward stood, grunting as he readjusted his burden. He approached the corner, checked to be sure the watchman wasn’t looking back toward them, and then broke into a run, following Grace around two more turns before he saw Rose’s place ahead.

When he opened her gate, stepping into her manicured front garden, a light flared to life near her front door, and Ward looked up to see the Gopah master, blindfolded as usual, staring at him from the stoop. “Come! I felt your approach.”

Ward hurried along the path, and she came down the steps to meet him, reaching out to grasp the sides of Haley’s head, probing with her fingers. “She’s unconscious, and so is her passenger.” She turned her blindfold toward Ward. “When I felt her corruption, I didn’t know it would mature into this.”

Ward, still breathing heavily and pouring sweat, shook his head, reaching up with his coat sleeve to wipe at his forehead. “I wish I’d had a clue.”

“What was she doing when you confronted her?”

“I think she was trying to steal a man’s anima. She…wasn’t herself.”

“Come. Bring her.” Rose turned and opened her door, holding it for Ward. As the heavy brass door clanged shut, Rose stepped forward and put a hand on Ward’s shoulder. It was a light touch, but it felt as though she had reached into his soul. Her fingertips were charged with something like electricity, and it danced along his flesh and gave him a fuzzy, numb sensation all the way into his heart. He gasped, startled, and took a step forward, pulling away from her grasp. “Your passenger is quite different. Forgive my intrusion, but I had to be sure.”

“You, um, knew?”

“Not exactly—hence my intrusive touch. She’s a fiery spirit, isn’t she? Still, as sharp as her nature, it’s not malevolent. Moreover, I felt her connection to Haley; they’re close.”

“We are!” Grace said, suddenly there, eyes wide and worried as she futilely tried to touch Haley.

Rose nodded. “Hello, little spirit. What will I call you?”

“Her name’s Grace,” Ward said, shifting Haley so he cradled her in his arms. “She’s the one who—”

“Subdued the spirit within Haley.” Rose nodded. “Ward, I fear Haley’s passenger is of a very different nature from yours. I believe it’s a part of her—a sliver of her spirit, corrupted by her passage through the veil. It lay dormant as it grew, restrained by the fire of Gopah, but left to fester. Now, it rears its head and demands its share of Haley’s vessel, using it to hunt for anima, something our dear Haley lacks.”

“What will it do with the anima?” Grace asked.

Rose folded her arms in such a way that it looked to Ward like she was hugging herself. “I’m not certain, but it stands to reason that it will use it to force dominion over Haley, seeking mastery of her vessel.” She gestured toward the wooden floor where she and Ward had sat before. “Place her there.”

Ward walked onto the wood, feeling like he was committing some sort of sacrilege by not removing his shoes first. As he gently laid Haley down, he asked, “Do you have any idea how we can help her?”

“I have a very good idea,” Rose replied, and as Ward looked at her, he saw her gaze shift from him to Grace. “It all depends on how much you two are willing to sacrifice.”