Chapter 4

 

Darkness descended on them with the swiftness of a hawk on a field mouse. It closed around them with sharp talons, snuffing out all hopes of ever seeing the sun again. And as it was with death, it was rode hard by a numbing cold that ripped at skin.

The Chinyu warriors who had torn off their clothes to find relief from the heat, shivered in agony as every second became a frozen hell. They huddled together for warmth, but there was no protection from this new torment.

Magnus kept an eye on Reggie, occasionally nudging him awake to keep him from never waking up. Dante sat in a curled ball against Reggie’s side, as Magnus had instructed, feeding the other man his heat; it was another reason Magnus had brought the hound, but not the main reason.

“Keep him safe,” Magnus murmured, patting the hound’s head once before pushing to his feet and pacing back to the cave entrance.

The sands were a silver lake beneath the glowing sphere clinging like a fat diamond against black velvet. It was a beautiful and lethal sight Magnus had once enjoyed watching. Time had changed nothing and the absence of change closed around his chest like a cold fist. Memories eons old blazed as bright and crisp as fresh ones. They haunted him, mocking him for his weakness, and it was only because of Reggie that Magnus didn’t fall to his knees, clutching his skull, screaming the devils free.

To his left, a muffled shifting of body against sand reminded him of his companion. Nobu sat away from his men, awake, possibly alert. He hadn’t trusted the task of watch to Magnus and that was fine.

Magnus wouldn’t have either.

Two of the three warriors survived the night. Dawn rose over the frozen corpse of the third. He lay in a blue ball against the stone wall, knees pulled up close to his bare torso, curled fists tucked beneath his chin. His wide eyes stared unseeingly over curled lips exposing clenched teeth; the poor bastard had been pushed out of the huddle and left without heat the entire night.

The other two stared at their comrade with the same disappointment they had shown the one who hadn’t made it through the veil.

Already, the predawn sun was beginning to thaw the wasteland. The temperature was somewhere in the hundreds and climbing. Soon, it would reach a peak no man or beast could survive and they needed to be in the clear before that happened.

“Let’s go.” Magnus grabbed his bag. “We have five hours before the first heatwave.”

Already sweat drenched, Reggie squinted at him. “Heatwave? It gets hotter?”

Bag slung over his shoulder, Magnus turned to him. “Worse.”

Muttering a curse, Reggie followed him through the cave entrance. Dante loped after them.

Magnus needed no map to know where they needed to go. Every inch of that desert was as familiar to him as his bedroom. He knew it better than he knew the manor. He knew to avoid the north, keeping the sun at their backs as they headed to food, water, and shelter while maintaining their route.

He had left his canteen with Reggie. The other man had already finished it and that was fine, but Magnus knew they would both need more. Plus, they needed a place to wait out the heatwave.

“When … when did you live here?” Reggie panted, stumbling to keep up with Magnus’s strides.

“You wouldn’t have noticed,” Magnus replied evenly. “Time doesn’t work properly here. A year here is only a few months back home.”

Reggie squinted at him through the sweat and grit. “And how long were you here?”

His jaw tightened involuntarily. His gaze sharpened on the horizon, part of him unwilling to answer even that simple question.

“Two years.”

Reggie whistled, or tried to. “Why would anyone want to live here that long?”

He did refuse to answer that. The very thought of it made his stomach wrench.

“Stop talking,” he muttered. “Save your energy.”

Maybe he was too tired, too hot to argue, but Reggie obeyed. He fell silent.

Ahead of them, Dante threw himself head first into a sand dune. He came up in a spray of sand that glittered in the sun.

“How much longer, Maxwell?” Nobu complained from behind them.

Magnus didn’t turn back, but he could feel the cold, bitter eye boring into his shoulder blades. “I thought Chinyu warriors never got tired, or hungry, or cranky.” He did glance over his shoulder then to smirk at the other man. “Or did they send their weakest warriors for this mission?”

The two trailing after Nobu never so much as glanced up at the jab, either too tired to care or too ashamed. Nobu, however, bared his teeth in a silent snarl.

“How much longer?”

Magnus faced forward once more. “We make our first stop in another twenty minutes.”

Someone huffed, a sound of frustration.

“When will we reach the location?”

Magnus would have laughed if the thought didn’t depress him. “In another two day’s walk.”

“What?” this was from Reggie, whose head had jerked up at the answer. “Two more days?”

Magnus glanced at him. “It’s a week journey.”

Heart shattering realization shone in the other man’s brown eyes. But he didn’t argue.

Silence returned to the group as Magnus led them to the only patch of water for another thousand miles. The oasis glimmered like a gem, a beautiful, priceless gem in the distance. The roar of its waterfall beckoned them into its cool, loving arms. Palm trees swayed, rich, green shrubs rustled. It was paradise.

The others ran, shoving each other over to get there first. Even Dante tore off at the promise of water and possible food. But Reggie stayed at Magnus’s side.

“It’s all right,” Magnus told him. “It’s real.”

Reggie shook his head. “Not what I was worried about.” He wiped a hand across his mouth, leaving a trail of sand across his burnt cheek. “Is there anything in there that will eat me?”

Magnus snickered. “Only Dante.”

Nodding, Reggie quickened his pace. “I can live with that.”

While the others dove into the crystal, blue-green waters, Magnus kept a close eye on the sky. They had just barely made it. Already he could just make out the waves of heat boiling off the sands in the east. It moved in their direction like a rising storm no one could see until it was too late.

Resigned, Magnus tugged back the side pocket zipper and freed a short blade. He stalked to one side by a cluster of flat stones and knelt.

His reflection seemed pissed off to see him. It glowered up at him from the clear surface, face dusted with sand and raw from too much sun. The scars carving one side looked sore and tender, but he couldn’t feel it where the dead flesh was sewn together over bone.

It wasn’t a pretty sight. The forsaken’s claws had nearly taken his entire face. It had been reflexes or luck that had saved him. The results were a tattered maze of torn skin his mother had carefully healed together the best she could.

But seeing his own face wasn’t the reason for the blade in his hand.

He dumped off his duffle and eased into the water, careful to place his weight evenly on the smooth, wet stones. The cool water practically hissed as it rose up his legs, cooling the hot fabric of his clothes. He dove in, one quick dunk before resurfacing. His gaze darted to where Reggie was kicking water at an excited Dante, who was trying to snap at the droplets in midair. Satisfied that they were safe, he turned his attention on more important matters.

Fishing had never been his strong suit. He hated the feel of them, and it required a certain level of patience that he could never muster. But in a pinch, when his brother’s survival depended on it, he had all the focus in the world.

In fifteen minutes, he had five silver herrings laid out on the stones. He waded out and trudged over to his duffle. From inside, he unearthed a plastic bag and stuffed the fish inside. It was wrapped up tight, enclosed in a second plastic bag and stowed away in a separate compartment in his duffle.

“What are those for?” Reggie made his way over with Dante bouncing along at his heels.

Magnus tossed his duffle strap over his shoulder and squinted in the direction of the horizon.

They didn’t have long.

“I have a few packets of MRE’s, but not enough to last us both a week.” He adjusted the strap more comfortably in place. “We gather food when we can and use the dry stuff for when we can’t.”

“Wow.” Reggie slicked a hand back through his unruly mop, showering the dry air with droplets that sparkled in the harsh sun. “Look at you, GI Magnus.”

Magnus shot him a glower. “You’ll be thanking me when you’re not starving.” He eyed the hot waves working their way towards them. Every second thickened what remained of the oxygen and he knew their time was up. “Get behind the waterfall.”

He grabbed Reggie’s arm and shoved him towards the roaring tumble of water shattering over jagged stones. He whistled for Dante.

The dog whined at the shoreline, but he slipped into the lake and followed after them, all six legs kicking.

“Should we tell them?” Reggie shouted over the thundering crash of falling water.

Magnus spared a glance over his shoulder to where Nobu and his warriors were still splashing themselves. But no matter how hard they tried to get their clothes soaked, the approaching wave kept drying them off.

“You heard the man, they’re warriors. They’ve got this shit covered,” Magnus reasoned.

What he didn’t tell his infuriatingly trusting brother was that the sooner they got Nobu out of their lives, the easier Magnus could breathe again. Having the man lurking just behind them every step of the way was beginning to make the place between Magnus’s shoulders itch.

But Nobu seemed to realize something wasn’t right, because he nudged his warriors and motioned to where Magnus and Reggie were already halfway across the lake.

Magnus didn’t wait to see if they were smart enough to follow, though he knew they would. He heard their bodies hitting the water and their frantic race to get across.

The oasis rose in temperature, boiling the water around them to the point of pain. Magnus and Reggie threw themselves beneath the frothing waterfall just as the first warrior began to cry out. The force of the waterfall struck them hard, but they climbed into the nook just behind it and scooted to the very far corner, wedging themselves against the slick wall. Nobu and his men barely made it in when it hit.

The heatwave washed over the oasis with a vengeance that shrunk the water levels and slowed the roar of the falls. The spray became a hot gush of steam that forced them further into the alcove. Droplets rained down from the slick ceiling, each one the equivalent of acid.

“What the fuck is this?” Reggie hissed, rubbing at a spot on his arm where the skin had begun to blister.

“The heatwave,” Magnus muttered. “It’s like sandstorms, but purely heat.” He glanced at the others. “We have to move before the next one—”

“The next one?” one of the warriors blurted, face speckled with burns. “How many are there?”

“Three,” Magnus answered. “That is why we need to pick up our pace. The next safe place isn’t for another six hours.”

“And when is the next heatwave?” Reggie asked.

“In four.” Magnus squinted at the wall of water shielding them from the worst of it and estimated another ten minutes. “But we can make it if we walk fast.”

“Fun,” Reggie grumbled.

“That’s not all.” He dropped his bag to the ground at his feet and knelt next to it. He unzipped the top. “The road gets more dangerous from here. If you have weapons, keep them in your hands. You don’t want to be caught off guard after a heatwave. A lot of the things living here wait until it has passed before coming out to hunt.”

“Oh, I am so glad I volunteered to come,” Reggie said dryly.

Magnus ignored him. He drew out several blades, a sword, and a handful of throwing knives and ninja stars, and began tucking them into his pockets. The sword was strapped to his back. He passed the matching sword to Reggie, along with a sheath of throwing daggers that strapped to the thigh, a pair of knuckle blades, and a chakram. The latter two were a pair of Magnus’s favorites. The knuckle blades were brass rings that slipped over four fingers with spikes at each point and short, curved blades protruding from either end. The chakram was a disk with a cross in the middle and a fine razor-sharp edge.

Reggie inspected both before hooking the chakram to his belt and slipped the knuckle blades over the four fingers of his left hand. In his right, he gripped the sword.

Zipping up the bag, Magnus rose. “Keep your eyes open and keep up.”

They kept at the heel of the heatwave, far enough away not to be affected, but still close enough to avoid anything that might be stirring awake. It was a tactic that wouldn’t save them forever, but the more space they could put between them and the next wave, the better.

Their luck ran out when Dante skittered to a halt several feet ahead. A low growl rose from deep in his throat, one that lifted the hairs along his flank and extended his claws. They sunk like daggers into the sand.

Magnus put out a hand, stopping the others. His free hand curled around the sword at his back and he edged forward. He reached the hound’s side and knelt to peer over the next dune.

Far below, in a flat valley, short, potato-like creatures with stick limbs scurried like ants around a roaring bonfire. Their chittering was intelligible, but reminded Magnus of clicking pincers. Whatever was being said, it had the misshapen bulbs in a frenzy. They scuttled to and from the boiling pot suspended over the open flames. Things were tossed in, and each time it hit the water, a cheer rose through the crowd.

Magnus shrank back.

“Keese,” he ordered Dante, commanding the hound to heel.

His fangs remained exposed in a contained growl, but Dante followed Magnus back to the others.

“What?” Nobu demanded. “What did you see?”

“Sand mitts.” He peered over his shoulder. “We need to move.”

“What are sand mitts?” Reggie asked, following Magnus in a wide circle around the valley.

“They eat the flesh of living things the way termites eat wood,” he explained. “They’d pick our bones clean before we could even scream.”

They managed to take the long way around, adding an extra hour to their walk. Magnus quickened the pace to a near run, knowing they needed to make up that lost time fast.

The others didn’t argue. The clatter of weapons and labored breathing drummed around them. Somewhere behind them, the shriek of an animal rose into the blue sky. The sound sent a chill through the group, but no one looked back.

They sprinted through the open, over hills of sand in what seemed like an endless direction. The sun burned at their backs, a merciless force boiling the blood in their veins and soaked all the air from their lungs. Even Magnus was no longer unaffected. He could feel the dull drum of pain spiking at his temples, the burn of dry skin at his throat. The world blurred and focused, and still they were no closer to sanctuary.

“Magnus…”

The choked wheeze of his brother’s voice brought him tumbling back. Resolve surged up his spine in a defiant pulse that fueled him with rage. He grabbed Reggie and hooped one of his arms around his brother’s waist, keeping his sagging weight.

“Hang on,” he told him. “I’m going to get you out of this.”

Dante whined, anxious as he wound around their legs, sniffing the ground.

One of the warriors dropped to his knees. The other grabbed him and hauled him back up, and the march continued.

“Let me go,” Reggie panted when Magnus’s boot slipped going up an incline. “I’ll wait here. You can—”

“Stop talking!” Magnus bit out.

“You can’t carry me—”

Magnus jostled him, partially to balance out his weight, partially to shut him up. “I said, stop talking.”

“Holy Christ it’s fucking hot,” Reggie half sobbed, half groaned. “I’m so tired…”

“We’re almost there,” Magnus lied. “Just stay awake or I’ll drag your ass by the ankles.”

“I hate you,” Reggie continued to slur. “Why didn’t you knock my ass out and leave me at home?” He paused, then added, “My balls are chaffing.”

Magnus blanched. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“It’s so itchy.”

He ignored that.

“Think about Daphne,” he prompted instead. “You need to get back for her.”

That perked some life back into Reggie. His head lifted from its lulling position against his chest.

“Daphne,” he mumbled dreamily. “Sweet Daphne and her pretty hair.”

Magnus rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. Just think about that.”

“It’s the color of sunset,” Reggie went on. “All those amazing hues that take your breath away just trapped in those soft, silky strands. And her eyes…” He sighed deeply. “They remind me of home. Do you remember home?”

Magnus said nothing. He didn’t need to. Reggie was lost in his own mind.

“The green of the hills around our house when the sun was high and the sky was a brilliant blue that strained over the ocean. And her skin is so … soft, so … perfect, like the amaryllis flower, all the perfect blends of pink and white. And, God, her freckles and her nose, and her tiny hands.”

Magnus regretted ever bringing up the girl. He wasn’t sure how long his brother’s delusional ramblings would continue, but at least he wasn’t falling asleep.

“I love her,” Reggie murmured, softer. “I’d do anything for her.”

“You can tell her that when you see her,” Magnus muttered, trying to edge the man to walk faster. “Right now, you need to walk.”

“I have told her.” Reggie ignored or didn’t hear him. “A million times while she slept.”

Magnus frowned. “You watched her sleep?”

“From outside her window!” Reggie snapped. “I’m not a creeper.”

Magnus shook his head. “No, that’s not creepy at all.”

The burst of energy died and Reggie sagged against him once more. “She would have stayed if I’d told her. She would have waited.” He paused. “Do you think she’s happy where she is?”

Beginning to feel the weight and heat all over again, Magnus gritted his teeth. “I don’t know!”

Why the fuck had he brought Daphne up? He’d kick himself if he could.

“Do you think she’s found someone else?”

Magnus growled low in his throat. “You are centuries old, not a fucking teenager. Now move your ass!”

Reggie’s response was silenced by the joyous scream of one of the warriors. Magnus spun around the best he could just in time to see the one who had fallen jerk out of his companion’s arms and bolt in the direction of rising waves coming off scalding sand.

“Water!” he wailed, arms flung open wide as though racing towards a lost lover.

“No!” Magnus shouted after him. “Stop him! He’s hallucinating.”

Nobu and the other warrior shot after him. They tackled him, pinning him to the ground even as he kicked and screamed.

“Water!” the warrior screamed. “It’s right there!”

His desperation rang like the tolls of too many bells through the vast silence that strained around them. It vibrated across the sand and faded into the distance. Magnus cursed under his breath even as he scanned their surroundings.

“We need to move,” he told Reggie. “Don’t stop.”

He considered just leaving the three. They were not his responsibility. Plus, it was their man bringing death down upon their heads. But despite his feelings, there was a silent code amongst men who faced parlous danger together, an unspoken rule that you never left a man behind, no matter how tempting.

“Run!”

Hoisting Reggie higher, he dragged the other man over the bank and down the other side. Dante was already on the other side, frantically shifting from paw to paw as he sniffed the air and whined. Reggie found enough strength to hold his own weight as they hit the bottom. Magnus released him and they ran, not stopping once or glancing back to see if the others were behind them. Sand rolled beneath their heels, creating a slippery slope up the next incline. Reggie slid down four feet before Magnus grabbed him by the back of the coat and hauled him up.

“Why are we running?” Reggie gasped, scrambling his way to the top and over.

Magnus never got the chance to respond when a deafening shriek pierced the heavens. The chilling caw of a massive crow. Magnus tore out his sword from its sheath and gripped it in both hands as the cry came again. Dante snarled. He opened his maw to bark.

“Keese!”

Dante immediately shut his mouth with a snap and shrank back obediently.

Reggie spun on the spot, head tilted towards the empty sky. “Where is that coming from?”

Magnus wasn’t looking up. His gaze surveyed the desert floor, the dips and valleys surrounding them. The too many places the creature could hide.

There were no birds in the Isle of Cree. None that could fly, at least. There was nothing strong enough to withstand the heat. Everything that called that barren wasteland home were ground dwellers, burrowers that came up beneath a man’s feet.

“Watch your feet!” he snapped at his brother, who was still searching the horizon.

Reggie unclasped the chakram from his belt and gripped it firm by the center. In his other hand, his fingers tightened around the knuckle blades.

“We’re completely in the open,” Reggie stated, voice tense.

“And nearly out of time,” Magnus added. “The next heatwave will be on us in ten minutes.”

Reggie moistened his lips. “What’s the plan?”

He didn’t have one. They were still three full hours from the next safety zone and a half a day’s walk from their destination.

“We keep moving,” was the best he could come up with.

The caw erupted amid their conversation. The deafening sound died in the boom of an explosion that sent clumps of sand bursting just over the ridge they’d come from. It was followed by a shriek, a human wail of terror and pain. Dante whined and looked up at Magnus for instructions.

Magnus didn’t wait. He grabbed Reggie’s arm.

“Run!” He shoved his brother ahead of him away from the screams and clang of metal and the squeal of beast. “Dante!”

The hound sprinted after them.

“What about—?”

He pushed Reggie again when he stopped and turned back. “Not our problem!”

Reggie hesitated, his brown eyes fixed on the ridge concealing the men they were leaving behind.

“They would leave us in a heartbeat,” Magnus reminded him. “They are not our friends.”

“But we can’t just leave them,” Reggie protested.

“Yes, we can.” Magnus forcibly hauled him away. “My only concern is getting you home alive.”

“Magnus!” Reggie planted his feet firmly to the sand and turned on him. “We can’t leave our men behind.”

“They are not our men!” Magnus bit out. “They are Chinyu warriors, ruthless, murderous, and without a shred of moral compass. They would slit your throat in your sleep.”

“But we’re not,” Reggie said.

Had it been up to Magnus, he would have left the warriors and continued on without losing sleep. Maybe that made him a bastard. Maybe that made him as ruthless and murderous as their comrades. But that didn’t bother him. Magnus lacked the empathy his brothers seemed to have an abundance of. He lacked compassion. He was well aware of the fact and took great comfort in it. Compassion was for the weak. Love and mercy got a man killed. Plus, he’d done his part when he’d told them to run.

“We need to help them,” Reggie pressed on, taking Magnus’s silence for consideration.

“No, we don’t. Dante, hashton lum dor te.”

Reggie’s eyes went as round and wide as the jaw that unhinged. He stared at Magnus with horror and disbelief as Dante trotted over and planted himself in front of the man. The hound seemed uncertain by the command, but he obeyed all the same, keeping Reggie from going back.

“Start walking, or I’ll have him bite your leg off,” Magnus warned, partially meaning it.

Reggie took an awkward stumble back. Dante followed, keeping close.

“You wouldn’t,” he challenged, but glanced at the dog with uncertainty.

Magnus never so much as batted an eye. “Try me.”

Dante snapped at Reggie’s ankle, close enough to prove a point, close enough to make Reggie yelp and tumble onto his backside. He scrambled backwards. Magnus reached down and hauled him up.

With one hand closed firmly around Reggie’s elbow, he marched the man away from the slaughter behind them. The shrieks faded the further they went until there was nothing but the mocking whisper of the hot wind blowing at their sweat drenched faces.

Reggie never said a word. His angry silence was filled by the rapid panting from Dante, who loped alongside him like a massive, hairy guard. Magnus stayed on Reggie’s other side, blocking him in, pretending he didn’t notice the cold shoulder his brother was giving him. It really didn’t matter at that point, anyway. In a few minutes, they would be heaps of roasted flesh baked in the sand.

“We could have saved them,” Reggie said at last.

“We could have,” Magnus agreed. “But I’m not here for them and neither are you.” He glanced sideways at his brother. “We’re here for Gideon and that baby. There is nothing more important.”

Reggie shook his head, but he didn’t argue.

Magnus stopped walking. Reggie and Dante did the same. Both turned to him questioningly.

“What?”

Magnus raked five fingers through damp, tangled locks, shaking free half the desert from his scalp. He wiped the sleeve of his coat over his sweaty brow and sighed.

“We need to find shelter.”

The temperature had begun to climb. The heat was gradually becoming unbearable, a suffocating force wrapping like plastic over their faces.

Reggie spun on the heel of his boot. “There’s nothing but sand.”

But there had to be something. He refused to allow his brother to die in that godforsaken place. He would not let that place claim another part of him.

“Wait! Look!”

Reggie grabbed him with the hand still sheathed in the knuckle blades and wrenched Magnus around to follow the second hand he was using to point.

It was faint, but clear. For a moment Magnus feared the heatwave was descending upon them, but the plume of smoke was different. It wasn’t the invisible waves distorting the distance. It was thick and brown, a cloud of dust rising beneath a hurried pace. It could have been anything, any creature speeding to get away from the heatwave. It could have been a horse or a monster truck. Whatever it was, it was approaching at a velocity they couldn’t outrun and it was headed straight for them.

“Be ready.” Magnus warned his brother, his own weapon already gripped with both hands. “Dante, zita!”

The command to attack immediately transformed the hound into what he truly was, a creature of death and destruction. Fangs gleamed like the blades of a sharpened dagger. Claws extended to jagged points and curled into the sand. He swelled to three times his height and weight, coming nearly to Magnus’s chest. Red eyes glowed from a face etched with greedy hunger for blood. He moved to stand at Magnus’s side. The ground trembled beneath every paw.

Then there was nothing but silence and the impending cloud of dust.