Shades of Grey
Chapter 64: The Civilian Soldiers

RUE DU VIE— JANUARY 1844

Forma and I began travelling down the Rue du Vie, which should have led directly to Romania by that same afternoon, but after several days of solemn walking we came to accept that we were lost: a fact which up until then we had both fervently denied.

“Grey, we might unintentionally return to Jzasach if we continue in this manner or if we’re not careful, we’ll end up back at the Academy ruins. Do you know where we’re going?” Forma asked after we stopped for a brief rest.

“You could just as easily navigate, you know. I don’t have to do everything,” I snapped, checking my navigational instruments. I felt Forma roll her eyes as she shifted back into herself. She had been decidedly more irritable lately and I’d ignored it until now but I could only take so much.

“You know how poorly I read maps. I’m not intelligent when it comes to that sort of thing,” she replied flatly as she grabbed an apple off a tree and began to eat.

“But you’re intelligent enough to know when I’m making a navigational mistake?” I quipped.

“Of course,” Forma said adroitly with her mouth full. “I’m not a complete idiot.”

I scoffed when suddenly a sinister crackling of grass nearby caused us both to stiffen in alertness.

I turned and held out my Flamesword, listening for breathing and any movement from our distant observers. Forma froze in mid-chew and focused her hearing.

“What is it?” she whispered. “It’s not Wood Nymphs, is it? I hate Wood Nymphs…”

“No, it’s too loud for any sort of Creature – it’s got to be human…”

“Why would humans want to attack us?” she wondered.

“I’ve no idea. Let’s ask them.”

Not a second later, six very fat men leapt out of the grass with surprising agility and came at me with Longswords, jabbing recklessly without any sign that they had ever been trained in combat.

I stole a glance at Forma, who grinned in amusement. She then leapt forward and shifted into a lion, growling and roaring at the men with intimidating ferocity. They did not drop their swords, which I credited them for. Instead they held their ground and tried to appear intimidating, though I saw visible anxiety in their eyes.

“Who are you and what do you want?” I asked, pointedly.

A man on the very end of the line with knotted red hair and a heavily freckled face answered me in an insecure, uncertain voice.

“We are citizens of Tournesol, under the rule of his majesty King Darius and aided by the Royal Wizard and Chief Advisor to the King; the Magus Imperiosum, Verrilius.” Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The man then allotted for a beat of dramatic silence where I assumed I was supposed to recognise this name and gasp in horrified awe. The man next to the red headed man scoffed when I did not.

“LaSalle, is that all you plan to say?”

“No! I was getting to it!” replied LaSalle. The other man rolled his eyes, turned to me and shifted his weight, standing with a greater strength than before. Forma growled at him and it was difficult to miss the shattering of his ego, visible in his round face.

“You are a Creature Hunter, are you not?” asked the man next to LaSalle.

“Why?” I asked unblinkingly. He nodded, my statement confirming his question.

“Then consider this your caveat,” he began as he ruffled through his pockets for what I assumed to be an edict of some sort.

“Caveat to what?” I asked. He ignored me and read from the paper he uncovered in his bag.

“By order of the Magus Imperiosum under section one of the new Unification Law, you are in violation of the Anti-Hunter Decree and you are to be arrested and hand delivered to the Magus himself.”

I nearly dropped my Flamesword in shock, recalling the same terrible scenario from my escapade into my subconscious. The image of the faceless crowd in the ballroom began to return to me: the hysterical Queen Grey, the cruel and silent King Lanek, my mother in the prison cell…my horrific monster child…

“What?!” I cried.

“That’s right,” said a squat man with thick brown hair on the opposite end of the line. “So if you’ll kindly remain silent and come with us…”

Forma gave a great roar, nearly propelling the men backwards with its sheer volume.

She reared back on her hind legs and lunged for the men, but they were quick and each raised their swords in readiness. Forma just barely managed to change into a falcon to avoid their blades. I drew my own blade and attacked, skilfully swinging my Flamesword around their weak weapons. Despite their being nearly three times my size, I easily manoeuvred around them. After what seemed like only minutes, the men were all on the ground, groaning at the wounds Forma and I had just dealt them.

Forma stood tall just behind them, applauding at my single-handed defeat of the portly men.

“That was nicely done! Lord Daryn would be proud,” she remarked.

“Thank you!” I grinned, sheathing my weapon and turning to face her. As soon as I had done so, however, a thick brown smoke rose from the ground behind Forma and took the loose form of a large man. I only barely had time to point towards the offending plume before two large smokey arms wrapped themselves around her. Her eyes widened in a panic as she tried fruitlessly to break the grip of the mist.

“NO!” I exclaimed, pulling out my Flesh Pistol and firing several stunning shots at the growing brown mist, each only passing through it and causing the mist to grow larger and thicker. I gaped at it in horror as two red eyes formed right above a black, hollow mouth. The smokey monster gave me a leery, evil sneer just before it pulled a protesting Forma into the earth, leaving me alone on the dirt path with the six men, all of whom had now recovered their strengths and were slowly standing.

“NOOOO!” I protested, re-sheathing my Flesh Pistol and proceeding to dig furiously in spite of its clear futility.

I looked up at the men, wrath in my eyes.

“Where is she?”

“We are forbidden by law to tell you,” replied a dark haired squat man.

I pulled out both my dirks from their compartments along my ribcage and in one fluid motion I brought the blades across his face, leaving two long scars behind. He touched the blood and his eyes widened for a moment in surprise. He quickly recovered his equanimity, daring to twist his sword in his hand challengingly.

“We are not afraid of you, Hunter,” he spat with distaste.

“I can easily change that,” I threatened, withdrawing my pistol and loading Ice Pellets into it. I immediately shot at the feet of each man, the pellets freezing their boots to the ground upon each strike. They protested, fighting against the ice shackles. I held my pistol toward their faces, speaking darkly.

“Just tell me where she is.”

“Never!” spat the red headed man.

I withdrew my Flamesword, lighting it with the strongest possible flame.

“TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!”

The men remained annoyingly silent. I sighed, firing normal bullets at each icy restraint I had made, releasing them. I then played with my Flamesword loosely in my hands and cracked my neck.

“I might just enjoy this,” I said with a maniacal smile.

I raised my sword as the men all raised their own weapons when a sudden wall of tall flames shot out from the forest to our left, creating a barrier between myself and the men, forcing us to halt our attacks.

“Call for reinforcements!” I heard LaSalle call to the others. “This Hunter has skills we are not prepared for!”

“Notify Verrilius!” agreed another.

I listened as the voices disappeared down the road, running far away from the strange fire in fear. I frowned in bewilderment and slight disappointment, waiting patiently for the fire to dissappear.

“I had them! I could’ve taken them…” I protested when it finally died, turning to face the unseen arsonist. “Who are you to—?”

“Quiet.”

I froze as the sudden male voice came from behind me. I tried to turn to look for the owner, but a pair of impossibly strong arms then clamped tightly around me, preventing any opportunities for struggling or protestation. I fought under the man’s grip, but he tightened his hold and whispered directly into my ear.

“If you want to recover your Maisling, it is important that you remain quiet and cooperative. Understand?”

Reluctantly, I nodded. He then released his hold on me and pushed me forward. Before I could turn to look at his face, however, I felt the point of a sword on the back of my neck.

“Walk.”

I did not trust this stranger and I had no intention of obeying him. In the quickest movement I could possibly make, I reached for both my Flamesword and my Longsword. I swung them around, eager to slice into the chest of my unknown captor, but instead he leaned agilely backwards and avoided my attacks. He then drew his own sword and brought it down towards me. I crossed both my weapons above my head and blocked his attack. This allowed me a full look at my opponent for the first time.

A frighteningly grotesque mask with large eyes and a wide, eerie smile obscured his face, and a thick black cloak was draped over his muscular form bearing the royal colours and seal of the city of Tournesol. I frowned in irritation: I still knew nothing about him, but if he was for Tournesol then I could not let him delay me any longer.

I took all but a second to observe these details. Unfortunately for me, my attacker was a skilled fighter and he utilised this second to knock both weapons out of my hands, wrap my arms around to my back and hold the edge of the blade to my neck. I choked briefly, taken aback by the speed of his retaliation.

“Walk, and do not try anything else,” he commanded simply before releasing me and moving the sword from my neck to my back. I obeyed grudgingly.

By sword point, the man directed me into the forest, stopping at an opening in a cliff face at a small clearing several yards into the thick of the wood.

“Stay very still and very quiet,” he said softly, dropping the sword and allowing me to turn and face him.

The man knocked rhythmically on the cliff and after a few moments, a rhythmic response followed. He stepped backwards and we waited as the cliff opening moved ever so slightly to the right. The man slipped inside and I quickly followed into what looked like a small cave pocket. As the cliff closed itself again, the man removed his mask and my mouth fell agape in shock at the sight of a face I hadn’t seen since Commencement.

Liam Clayton.

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