Blood Rain Page 8

  “Exactly, no soldier in his right mind would mess with you, Carmine, not after what you did to the last one. I’m surprised you didn’t know it was me right away just from that fact. You must be slipping up in your older age.”

  Carmine waved a dismissive hand. “Well, you’re here now. I guess that means you want information, as usual. Do you mind if I change into something more comfortable?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Thank the gods for small favors. I was starting to get a cramp.”

  Mercy stared in horrified fascination as Carmine slowly began to change before her eyes. His skin stretched awkwardly, like putty being pulled too thin, until it was almost transparent. The suit turned into thin black and gray fur that covered his torso. The only part of the clothing on his upper body that wasn’t an illusion was a solid silver medallion with marbled red and black stone in a ring around its center. She realized the image on the medallion was an eye with a perfectly round halo of red around it.

  Leathery skin ballooned out from his thin, elongated arms, which she could now see were wings. The pants were real, but his dress shoes were now forming into clawed feet with dark footpads. With a long yawn, his fangs stretched out across his lips. When he opened his eyes again they were a deep purple that produced a halo of reddish light around them, and his ears were huge and conical.

  Mercy stammered. “You’re the contact? But you seemed so human.”

  Carmine smiled cynically. “Sorry to disappoint you, Love.”

  Mercy said through gritted teeth, “Mercy.”

  “Where did you pick her up, Pyron? She’s absolutely charming. Not for sale is she? I could use another pretty serving wench.”

  Mercy grabbed the collar and snapped it off. “I’m not a slave.”

  Carmine raised an eyebrow and looked at Pyron.

  “She isn’t a slave. I found her collapsed in front of the lighthouse. Apparently, your people got a little crazy due to the unusual weather we’ve been having.”

  “Ah, I see. And, who is your other friend?”

  “I’m Beryl.”

  “Unusual to see one of your kind on the surface unless the rumors are true. So a Merman prince really did go missing. That’s a useful bit of information, don’t you think?”

  Beryl asked flatly, “What are you talking about?”

  Carmine rolled his eyes. “I can recognize another shape-shifter. I’m not grotesquely stupid. Did you think you could just not say anything and I wouldn’t notice?”

  Pryon snapped, “You are grotesquely stupid if you don’t close your mouth. Shut up, Carmine.”

  Pyron cast a significant glance at Mercy, but that just made Carmine’s grin wider.

  “Oh, she didn’t know. This is going to be an amusing evening. I can tell.”

  Mercy turned and looked at Beryl. Beryl sighed miserably and suddenly his skin began to change as well. It wasn’t as dramatic a change as Carmine’s, but amazing nonetheless. His “disguise” melted away, changing his skin from gray into the bluish tone she had seen the night that they found her. The bright orange hair became a strange teal color that seemed to glisten in a way that reflected the little bit of light in the room. His hair was spiky with thin fin-like protrusions coming from each strand and his skin was totally smooth. His eyes were the most disturbing change as they became black where the whites used to be. His deep teal irises were the same the color as his hair. He also had long, canted pupils like those of an octopus. But, overall, he looked mostly human.

  Mercy had only heard rumors of the Mermen, mostly from the people of the North. According to travelers, in the Cicatrix Mountains there was an ice fortress called “Corazen.” It was the largest city of the Northern Tribe. They said that the Mermen and the Water Women lived in harmony with the people there and sometimes wed with humans. Most of the people of the forest thought that was simply a rumor. They believed that no species of bestial men could actually be peaceful enough to live among normal humans, much less to actually intermarry.

  However, looking at Beryl, she found that she could believe it. Despite his strange hair and eyes and his flawlessly smooth skin, he looked almost human. Mercy felt her knees beginning to buckle at the sudden realization. Rather than to show her weakness, she pivoted and sat down on a barrel being careful not to fall.

  Pyron approached her. “Are you alright?”

  “Stay back. I’m not taking anything for granted anymore. You’re probably going to change into some sort of fire monster and burn me to death. That’s where they say the Ashen People came from, the goddess of fire and the god of earth…”

  Pyron smiled. “Nope, just me.”

  He pulled off the white wig and rubbed at his skin to show that he was indeed coated in soot. She relaxed a little. Despite how she felt about the Ashen People, she suddenly felt much more comfortable in his presence than Beryl’s.

  Beryl glanced away, embarrassed. “Well, now you know my secret.”

  Carmine grinned. “I always tend to bring people closer together. Call it a gift, if you’d like.”

  Mercy glared at him, but didn’t say anything.

  Pyron settled back into the chair across from Carmine. “Well, now that’s out of the way. We came here for information. What’s your price?”

  “As always, that depends on what you’re asking though I think I can guess. You’re probably here to talk about the weather.”

  Pyron nodded.

  “You might be out of luck. I don’t know any more about it than anyone else, and I don’t make people pay for conjecture.”

  “I don’t believe you. You told me last time that the bat race worshipped some sort of blood god. It makes me think that they’re behind this somehow.”

  “If someone is responsible for this weather, I can assure you that it isn’t my people.”

  Mercy scoffed. “I find that difficult to believe.”

  Pyron nodded. “I tend to agree with Mercy. It sounds like it stirred them up and they nearly ransacked her village that night. It also means there’s an excess supply of blood for them to enjoy. They won’t be going hungry for a very long time.”

  “Well, since you’re so well read on the motivations of the Blood Wings, I guess the fact that I am one is inconsequential.”

  Beryl held up a hand. “Please continue, Carmine.”

  “The reason I believe my race isn’t behind this is because we hate the frenzy. Every time we taste blood, we experience a sort of euphoria, but we generally can control ourselves. We only frenzy if we’ve been deprived of blood for too long or if there are massive amounts of it. In those cases, we lose control entirely. My people regard the blood frenzy as a curse; we wouldn’t do anything to cause it.”

  Mercy frowned. “But it makes you stronger, and it makes you able to ignore your injuries.”

  “The ability to ignore wounds is most certainly not a blessing. It makes our warriors fight until they bleed to death. As for making us stronger, that’s only a myth. Also, when we blood frenzy, we tend to be fighting blind and lose track of our prey.”

  “You seemed pretty well coordinated that night.”

  “Well, I guess you could say the taste of blood brings out the animal in us. It’s like a drug. Basically, blood does to my people what vigor ash root does to yours, only without the pain after the effects have worn off. It makes us feel stronger, faster, almost invincible, but it also makes us more instinctual.”

  “What do you mean more instinctual?”

  “My people probably only seemed coordinated because they were behaving more like a wolf pack than a raiding party by the time they reached your village. And, my guess is, since they had never attacked with that type of tactic, it probably took your tribe by surprise.”

  Pyron stood up and yelled, “How did you know that, Carmine?”

  Carmine rolled his eyes. “Please, I wasn’t there. Being there would’ve been bad for my health. However, not everyone in my colony wants to kill me. I do occasionally have one of my peop
le contact me. Cruor came to visit and asked what I knew. I told him the same thing I’m telling you now.”

  Beryl frowned with a perplexed look on his face. “So the others of the bat race don’t know the cause of it either?”

  “I think you and I both know the cause of it.”

  Mercy looked between Carmine and Beryl as their eyes locked. She felt a wide array of emotions from both of them that disturbed her. Both of them were worried, afraid, and at the same time behind it all there was a sort of unspoken calm neutrality. It was a forced mutual trust, like two people involved in a peace treaty.

  Pyron looked from one to the other. “And the cause of it is?”

  “I’d like to talk to Beryl alone for a moment if you please.”

  Pyron said in an angry whisper, “No. You said you would tell the information to all of us.”

  “Let him speak to me.” Beryl stood up and went with Carmine to the other side of the room.

  They were speaking in such hushed tones that Mercy couldn’t hear anything, but she could still feel their emotions. Both of them, for some reason, felt physically sick. They were in pain, but they continued to talk for nearly ten minutes.

  Throughout the conversation, Mercy felt the same emotions coming from them of fear and worry, but she also felt anger. It wasn’t anger at one another but mutual anger about something else entirely. She guessed the source of their fury was probably the subject of their conversation. Pyron was still standing next to her, but he was staring intently at their mouths. It made her wonder if he could read lips. He was also starting to feel apprehensive.

  Carmine turned to them and said, “Alright, listen well because I’m not going to repeat myself. That storm is…”

  Mercy felt Carmine’s sudden nausea and pain as though it was a knife cutting a deep gash into her skin. He made a high pitched squeal, and blood began to drip from his nose and mouth. She saw his eyes roll back slightly. Mercy instinctively reached for her dagger, and felt sick with fear as she realized it wasn’t there. Carmine’s eyes rolled back forward again. He quickly pulled a handkerchief from his pants pocket and wiped the blood away.

  Mercy asked, “Are you alright?”

  Carmine acted as though he hadn’t heard her and blurted, “The storm isn’t natural.”

  Pyron frowned. “Are you saying that the storm is magical?”

  “I’m just saying that blood raining from the sky isn’t something that happens in nature. As I said, I don’t make you pay for conjecture. However, that storm was engineered by someone.”

  “By whom?”

  Beryl interjected, “That’s the question that we were discussing. I believe Carmine. I don’t think the bat folk of his colony are behind this. But, we’re not sure who is.”

  Pyron turned to Carmine. “Could your blood gods create such a storm? They’re your priests, right?”

  “The blood gods are a lie. We don’t really worship our high priests or our leaders, and they can’t make water turn into blood or anything like that. That myth is mostly a bunch of hocus pocus to scare the Forest Tribes”

  Mercy glared at him.

  Carmine shrugged. “It worked didn’t it?”

  Pyron asked, “Then who does your tribe worship? And could that entity have created that storm?”

  “We worship the god of the Red Star, and we do say that he blesses us with blood and darkness. But, as far as I know, he doesn’t interact with us directly. Besides, what sort of question is that? Could a god have created the storm? I suppose so. All I know is my colony couldn’t have done this.”

  “Why not?”

  Carmine shivered in pain and shouted, “We just couldn’t!”

  As Mercy felt his pain subside, Carmine continued, “You’ll just have to trust me on this one. Besides, if they caused the storm, Cruor wouldn’t have come to me trying to find out why it happened. Currently, my people are in hiding. They’re terrified that what remains of the forest dwellers are going to hunt them down and kill them all.”

  Mercy felt the blood draining from her cheeks. “What do you mean what remains of them?”

  Carmine looked at the ground. “I assume if you were there that night, you had to know that it was going to be bad. If it makes you feel better your people took a lot of mine with them.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel better at all.”

  “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I know that my people wouldn’t have taken so many lives if they were able to control themselves. But, that doesn’t matter to the forest folk. They’ll hunt down every last one of my kind at this point. They probably won’t be able to kill all of us, but with the rage they’re feeling, the losses would be devastating.”

  Mercy looked at the wooden floor beneath her feet. “Maybe I can stop them.”

  Beryl frowned. “Why? I thought you hated the beast men.”

  “If my tribe has suffered that much, there’s no reason to fight anymore. That’ll just be a waste of more life. We need to concentrate on rebuilding.”

  Pyron nodded. “And if you killed off the entire tribe of beast men, you’d probably be playing into the hands of whoever created that storm.”

  Carmine steepled his hands on the table. “You need to figure out where it originated. That should give you a good idea of who is behind it. When did the Merman prince disappear?”

  Beryl sighed. “Seven days ago.”

  “So, he disappeared the same day that the storm occurred. And you found the net that contained his spear in front of the Ashen capital?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s far too coincidental that he would disappear on the same day that the blood rain happened.”

  “Well, it’s possible that sharks could’ve killed him.”

  Carmine chuckled. “No, there’s no way that the prince of the Merfolk would be killed by sharks. I assume he was talented enough to deal with that.”

  “Yes, of course, but…”

  “Then, the two things must be related somehow. Whoever is behind this wants to cause chaos, and so far they’ve succeeded. I know that my people aren’t responsible and I doubt that the Ashen People are. They’re probably being framed.”

  Mercy asked, “But who would do this, and why?”

  Pyron asked, “And how?”

  Carmine shrugged. “I’ve told you everything I know. As for the two events being related, that was only guesswork, but I don’t believe in coincidence.”

  Pyron said, “Well, we know one thing now; magic is the cause of the storm. I’ve got to report back to my superiors,” he turned to Mercy, “and you have to report to yours.”

  Carmine turned to her. “Mercy, is it?”

  “Yes?”

  “If you’re going to follow the trail back to what remains of your village, I suppose I should warn you that my son, Erebus, is on the way here to meet me. He’ll be very hungry by the time he gets here. You’ll need to be careful.”

  Mercy said, “I can handle one beast man.”

  Carmine frowned. “I was hoping if you met him that you wouldn’t handle him in that way as a personal favor. You just said yourself that there’s no reason to cause anymore unnecessary bloodshed, or did you just say that to make yourself look better?”

  “Of course not, but if someone attacks me, I’m going to defend myself.”

  Carmine pulled the silver medallion from around his neck and handed it to her. “You might not run across him at all, but if you do, this medallion should make him think twice about biting you.”

  “I don’t need charity from you.”

  “I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for him. It would also be in my colony’s best interest if you could find your people and convince them not to kill us. If you do cross paths with Erebus, you should try to make a blood pact with him to make sure he doesn’t harm you. He and I have differing opinions on humanity, but he’s very influential among others in the colony.”

  “A blood pact?”

  “Blood pacts are one of the few v
ows that are honored by all of my people. Trick him into one if you must.”

  “I sincerely hope that I don’t run across any of your kin.”

  Carmine grinned again. “Charming, as I said. Now, Pyron, before you go rushing off to your superiors with the information that I’ve so generously provided, there’s the subject of payment…”

  Pyron didn’t say anything but tossed him a bulging velvet pouch that was hanging from his belt. Carmine opened it and poured the contents on the table in front of him. Mercy had never seen so many pieces of silver and gold all at once, and many of them were even minted Ashen capital coins as opposed to the usual gold and silver bits. Metal was very rare in her tribe, and precious metals were accepted everywhere as currency. What Pyron was giving to Carmine was a small fortune, meaning whoever Pyron was working for was very influential. Mercy suddenly felt sick. She had trusted the very type of person that her father warned her to avoid, and now he knew that her tribe was isolated and vulnerable.

  Carmine looked up and said, “Dictator Crevane must be desperate. The extra payment is for keeping that information to myself, I take it?”

  Beryl nodded. “That, and the information about the missing Merman prince remaining only a rumor.”

  “If I was a greedy man, I’d say I could make almost as much off of those two confirmed rumors as I did by helping you.”

  Pyron’s eyes narrowed. The look that he gave Carmine was murderous.

  Carmine held up his hands as though surrendering. “I’m always happy to do a favor for the dictator, and for the Merfolk. It’s been a pleasure, but I should be getting back to my bar, and my wife will be jealous if I spend too much time alone with a pretty tribal slave.”

  Carmine’s appearance began to change again as he continued talking. It was a slow transformation starting with the hair on his body receding and the skin on his chest and stomach changing color, almost seeming to weave together into the pattern of a nice suit and an immaculately clean white shirt. His feet also transformed at the same time into dress shoes. His wings receded inward, while his ears and teeth became smaller and smaller until they were human-sized.