“Oh. Uhm. I was asking if you’re well.”
“I am well enough, thank you,” she said.
“Is there anything I can do to help you?”
“Do you know where the Vushaari embassy is?”
Gavin couldn’t keep from chuckling. “I don’t even know where I am. I woke up in an alley not too far from here, but I don’t remember anything about myself or this place.”
Before the young woman could respond, the sound of footfalls filled the cul-de-sac. The woman’s eyes darted to look past Gavin, and she paled. Gavin turned to look as well.
Three men stood at the entrance to the cul-de-sac. Their leather garb was worn in places, but Gavin focused on the metal rod the man on his right was holding. Even from his distance, Gavin could see its grip on one end, with a ring of metal around a wavy line on the opposite end.
Gavin’s eyes narrowed on the rod for a moment, before he turned back to look at the woman’s left shoulder. The mark she bore was a solid circle enclosing a horizontal, wavy line-like an elongated ‘S’ turned on its side; a bar crossed the line diagonally from right to left through one of the troughs of the line.
Gavin shifted his eyes from the mark to the woman’s eyes, saying, “Slavers?”
“Yes,” the woman said, jerking her head in a brief nod. Her voice was little more than a whimper.
Chapter 3
Gavin stood and took a few steps toward the men, placing himself between the woman and them. The idea that these men would capture, brutalize, and hunt the woman behind him made Gavin seethe, and he was not prepared at all for the side effect of his anger. The moment Gavin started getting angry, the tingling sensation that had been with him since he awoke flared into a burning sensation that seemed fit to consume his very soul…and it was growing stronger.
The three men smiled in satisfaction, and the center man spoke.
“Well, look here, boys. We have a two-for-one, and the fresh meat looks like he still has some fight in him! Roderick, be a good man, and add him to our collection.”
The man holding the rod started approaching Gavin at a measured pace. Gavin was confused, though; the brand wasn’t red-hot, so how did those guys think they could brand him?
“Don’t let him touch you!” the woman said, her voice a terrified whisper.
But Gavin didn’t think he had a choice. The burning sensation within him wanted to reach out to the rod in the man’s hand, straining to grasp and consume it. The man didn’t seem to feel any of it, however, maintaining his measured pace toward Gavin; as he neared, the man even lifted the rod and held it out from him like a short sword, ready to jab the brand against Gavin.
When the man was as close to Gavin as he wanted to be, a feral grin crossed his expression as he thrust the brand toward Gavin. Gavin lifted his right hand to grasp the incoming brand, taking the wavy line right on the palm of his hand and wrapping his fingers around the metal ring.
For the briefest of moments, a physical heat built against Gavin’s palm and in his left shoulder, but that sensation didn’t last for more than a heartbeat. The burning sensation Gavin had been feeling within himself erupted into an unchecked conflagration. It was so intense that Gavin broke into a sweat. The inferno raced down his right arm and slammed into the brand he held. For the briefest of moments, the inferno bashed against some form of resistance, but that resistance shattered almost as quickly as Gavin sensed it.
It was at that moment the feral grin on the slaver’s face vanished. He paled as his eyes widened. “No…no…please…”
But it was too late. Gavin didn’t understand what was happening as he felt the inferno within race down his arm, through the rod, and into the slaver. Without warning, the slaver threw his head back and screamed in terrible agony. Eldritch fire, the flames shifting colors like a kaleidoscope, erupted from the man’s mouth and eyes.
After what seemed like an eternity, the screaming stopped all at once. The eldritch fire puffed out, and the body fell backward to lay eyes and mouth wide open, the face twisted in agony. A strange mark was now burned into the corpse’s forehead, and the remaining slavers seemed to recognize it…at least their pale complexions and the new puddle at the center man’s feet suggested they recognized the mark. The first part looked like two sickles with one inverted over the other and their points merging to create a solid line. To the right of that was a greater-than symbol with a dot inside it.
Gavin, though, no longer paid the slavers much attention. Whatever had killed the slaver left Gavin feeling weak as a child and unable to stand. He dropped the rod-now a blackened, twisted thing-and staggered toward the wall of the cul-de-sac.
Gavin slumped against the alley wall, trying to regain his strength. The woman sat in terrified tension, staring at the remaining slavers, and those slavers stood in wide-eyed terror of Gavin, no longer seeming to realize the woman existed.
The tableau was broken at last by the arrival of another group of slavers, three more in total.
“What in Lornithar’s Abyss in going on here?” the lead woman of the new arrivals asked.
The center man pointed down the cul-de-sac, saying, “H-he killed Roderick! Look!”
The woman walked over to look at the slaver’s corpse and gasped at the sight of the mark on the man’s forehead. She cast a skeptical glance at Gavin before returning to her people.
“Well, you have swords, don’t you? Get in there, and use them. Kill them both.”
“But-”
The woman walked over and pushed the center man toward Gavin, giving him a kick on the rump once he was moving.
“Get in there, and do it, or I’ll kill you myself,” she said, gesturing at the remaining slaver from the first group. “You, too; go help him.”
Gavin watched the men approach, and even though their swords danced in their shaking hands, he knew they could still kill him and the woman.
I will not be slaughtered like an animal, Gavin thought as he pressed the palm of his hand against his knee and made himself stand. It took all of his effort to keep from wobbling-both while rising and once he was on his feet-but Gavin was not about to show anymore weakness in front of these slavers.
“I will not allow you to harm myself or the woman,” Gavin said, forcing his voice to be strong and commanding. “If you leave of your own accord and do not pursue us, I will consider the matter closed.”
“You think we’re just going to leave our property?” the slaver woman asked, stepping up to join her fellows closer to Gavin.
The slavers were backing Gavin into a corner…in both the figurative and literal senses. With the slavers unwilling to see reason and not knowing any other way to end the confrontation, Gavin focused his mind on the word that had been burned into him not so long ago. He closed his eyes and began taking slow, deep breaths.
When Gavin opened his eyes once more, he saw a slaver was almost close enough to use his sword, and Gavin drew in his breath to speak.
“He’s gonna cast! Move!” one of the slavers in the rear shouted, and the three slavers closest to Gavin darted aside. Gavin heard a TWANG! at the same time something slammed into his right shoulder. The force of the impact partially spun him around, and Gavin collapsed to one knee, his eyes clamped tight as he grimaced. His shoulder had sprouted a crossbow quarrel.
I can’t let them hurt her. I must stop the slavers… That was the last thought in his mind as he lifted his head to face the slavers and spoke the Word, “Thraxys.”
The tingling sensation once more erupted into an inferno, raging throughout Gavin and searing every part of his soul. Eldritch fire licked out around the crossbow quarrel and consumed the blood running down his chest. But the slavers never noticed, for they fell to the ground dead the moment Gavin invoked the Word.