Ravinor Read online

  Lerius made his way downstairs to the common room. Everyone in the town knew of what had taken place early this morning, just as everyone knew the boy and the healer were now at Hossen’s inn. The normally raucous common room was half empty and unnaturally subdued. No music was being played, and the conversations at the few occupied tables were spoken in low tones. No one seemed to want to break the tension in the room, and that was fine by Lerius. He was not in a talkative mood either. The weight of what he would have to do was hanging over his head. He knew that the next time he went up those stairs, the boy’s life would be over. Lerius desperately wanted a drink; he settled for asking one of the servers for a glass of water.

  The inn’s proprietor, Hossen, brought the beverage over to where Lerius was sitting at the end of the bar. The innkeeper sat down next to him; neither man spoke. In this case, the lack of conversation was as informative as words would have been. After a few moments, Hossen got up and gave Lerius a pat on the back as he left to make the rounds of his more stalwart patrons. Lerius managed a polite nod and took a long drink of water. He swirled the contents of his glass, entranced by the liquid sloshing back and forth. He had given a dozen people the gift of mercy from the ravinor infection by this point in his early career. But not one of his patients had been under the age of twenty. Until Marelle. I guess I should be thankful it hadn’t happened before now.

  A candle had passed as he continued to swirl the water in the glass; his thoughts remained far away from the common room. With a quick gulp, Lerius finished his water and steeled himself to go back upstairs. It would happen any moment now. He could feel it. A chill passed through his body that made him involuntarily shudder. Just as he shuddered, he heard a shout and a loud crash from above the common room.

  Lerius swore and sprang from his seat. He snatched up a poker from beside the hearth as he dashed by and raced up the stairs. He could hear Hossen clambering up the stairs at his heels. The healer swung the door inward, keeping the poker between him and the bed. He froze when he saw Mikel’s limp body on the floor, blood pooling from the wound on his neck. He had just enough time to notice the untied ropes strewn about the empty bed before something crashed into him with shocking force.

  Red eyes hovered over his face as he struggled to fight off the creature that had once been Marelle. The ravinor had his father’s blood about his face and mouth as it snapped at him. Luckily, the poker had been forced between them, or Lerius would already be dead—or at the least, bitten. Lerius felt the ravinor’s weight come off of him as Hossen struggled to pull the former ten-year-old boy away.

  If this were a mature ravinor, Lerius would have scratches up and down his arms, but the ravinor’s nails had not yet had time to grow out and harden. Lerius thanked the Giver for his second stroke of luck. He didn’t know how much longer he could resist. Even with Hossen pulling the ravinor’s legs, it was all Lerius could do to keep those gnashing teeth away from his flesh. He noticed that one lone remaining section of rope still bound the young ravinor’s left arm to the bedpost, and he had a new appreciation for his precautionary ritual. Without it, the ravinor would have been able to fully extend its arm, and Lerius and Hossen were having enough trouble with the frenzied creature as it was.

  A third stroke of luck.

  But one that would do him little good if he could not evade this newly turned ravinor. His arms were shaking with the effort of keeping the poker in place, and his strength began to flag. The ravinor’s grip was as firm as ever despite its legs still being held up off the ground by the innkeeper. Lerius’s grip, however, was loosening. The sweat on his palms, and the force required to hold the ravinor at bay, was making the poker increasingly difficult to grasp.

  Lerius yelled out a warning to Hossen as the poker was finally torn from his desperate grip. Hossen must have heard because he shifted between pulling the ravinor’s legs with all his strength to trying with all his might to keep the ravinor, who was now focused on him, unbalanced. The healer, now free from a direct assault, lurched to his feet. The ravinor had discarded the poker as it tried to close with Hossen. Lerius scooped it up with both hands and swung the iron poker at the back of the ravinor’s head. There was no honor in fighting fair with ravinors, for they certainly would not fight fair with you. The ravinor went down in a heap. Dead, or at the least, unconscious.

  Both men were panting in the eerily calm aftermath of the struggle. Lerius was leaning over with his hands on his knees and gulping for air like a fish out of water. Hossen still had a grip on the ravinor’s legs even as he collapsed onto the floor from utter exhaustion.

  Through gulps of air, Lerius asked, “Are… You… All right?”

  Hossen waved at him to indicate that he was fine, not wanting to waste the precious air telling him so. The innkeeper finally let go of his attacker’s limp legs. They dropped with a thump.

  By this time, a crowd was gathering outside the room, but no one dared to enter. One of Hossen’s servers peeked in, surveyed the scene, gave a small shriek, and promptly turned back around and fled the room. The crowd quickly dispersed after that, stampeding down the stairs and out of the inn. Lerius could hear shouts for the Watch and knew that people would be coming to their aid, though it was too late for Mikel and Marelle—the father and son were clearly beyond hope.

  “I will take a stronger drink now, Hossen,” Lerius said, an exhausted half-grin on his face. The thrill of survival never failed to unhinge a man’s composure.

  Hossen shared the grin and said, “Drinks are on the house.”

  Lerius was about to respond when he saw the color drain from Hossen’s face as the innkeeper stared in shock over Lerius’s shoulder.

  “Shit!” That was all Lerius managed to cry out as he heard a muttered apology, then something heavy struck his head and the world snapped away.

  ***

  Lerius knew he was dreaming. He also knew that something terrible had happened, but he could not remember exactly what. All he knew was that he should not be asleep right now.

  Wake up! he shouted to himself again and again.

  Nothing.

  In his dream, no landscape had taken shape. He was floating through blackness, a void of nothingness. He yelled, and there was no response, no echo. Lerius still felt aware of his body, so he pinched himself, hoping for any semblance of sensation. He was comforted by the slight pain it caused; it was preferable to feeling nothing.

  Finally, after what seemed like ages, Lerius suddenly found himself in a field. The grass was high, nearly to his shoulders, and swayed in the breeze. The light wind felt nice after so long feeling nothing. The sun felt good too, enough to feel the warmth but not enough to burn. In the back of his mind, he still knew that he needed to wake up, but he could not remember why. He walked through the field with his arm outstretched in front of him to keep the high grass away from his face, but even so, he could not see more than a few paces ahead.

  The landscape remained unchanged as he continued onward. The sun had not moved and still hung high overhead even though he had been walking for several candles. His legs ached, and he felt blisters begin to form on the heels of his booted feet as he trudged doggedly ahead through the never-ending field of grass.

  It was sunny and bright, and then in a flash, he found himself in a hallway. The carpeted floor was a deep scarlet, as were the walls and ceiling. Closed doors on the left and right extended an impossible distance for as far as his eyes could see; each door was ten strides from the next. He had never seen a building that could house such a hallway. Candles guttered from within iron sconces as they partially illuminated the hallway. Lerius studied each door as he progressed down the corridor, but there were no markings on any door that distinguished it from any other door he had already passed.

  Filling a chill, Lerius turned around instinctively—panic took hold. A figure stood motionless behind him, perhaps a dozen doors down. He could not make out any details in the flickering light, but he could sense that this figure mean
t him harm. It was as if this thought spurred them both to action. He turned and bolted down the hall. Doors and candle-lit sconces flashed by as he raced as fast as he could. He turned and the figure was larger in his vision. He, or she—or it—was gaining on him.

  The healer continued to sprint, but when he turned once more, the figure was now massive, his head nearly reached the high ceiling which was nearly double Lerius’s height. But it was not the height alone that scared Lerius. The figure was swathed in shadow as black as the deepest onyx. It was as if the being chasing him was made up of smoke and ink, yet was strangely solid. Terror welled up inside him as Lerius noticed the light seemingly being devoured by his pursuer; the hallway behind the figure appeared to no longer exist. Hate, hunger, and pure evil pulsed from the creature in waves of tangible emotion.

  Lerius ended his examination of whatever it was that was after him; he turned back and sprinted on. Not risking another look behind him, he cast off his cloak that felt like it was weighing him down—a small part of his mind mulled over the fact that he had not had a cloak on when he was in the field. But Lerius did not dwell on this detail. The full focus of his being was centered on the knowledge that he could not let this thing catch him. He knew it in every fiber of his being that he mustn’t be caught. Nothing in his life had ever terrified him so much as whatever was pursuing him. He was shortly proven wrong.

  Lerius saw an open door, up ahead and to the right—just a dozen doors down. He ran faster than he had ever thought possible. Lunging through the doorway, he turned to slam it shut and threw the latch on the handle. Breathing heavily, Lerius leaned against the door, adding his own weight to it to keep it closed. He did not trust the lock alone to keep whatever was pursuing him from smashing through the door. He waited for the inevitable arrival, but it never came. No footsteps. No body crashing against the door. Nothing but an empty silence pregnant with menace.

  He was certain someone or something was behind him. Something had been chasing him. There was no way he had imagined that. The healer considered opening the door but cast the thought aside. That was probably just what it was waiting for. Lerius slowly eased his weight off the door as smoothly as possible so the door wouldn’t squeak or rattle in its jamb. His body tensed, but he heard nothing from the hallway. Certainly not the tell-tale sound of floorboards creaking that hinted at someone sneaking closer. Slowly backing away from the door, he turned to study the room that had saved him. Lerius nearly jumped out of his skin.

  A woman sat in a richly upholstered scarlet armchair. Her form was covered by a thin, black silk robe that did little to hide the curves of her full breasts and her shapely legs. Lerius was overcome with lust for this mysterious woman. He had seen plenty of attractive women and was no stranger to the fairer sex, and as a healer he had no foolish vows of celibacy. If anything, his knowledge of preventing an unwanted pregnancy made him a convenient lover to some of the women along his circuit. The only rule he had was to have no dalliances with patients. And this woman certainly looked to be in fine health. Her skin was pale alabaster white; it had the appearance of softness, but her body was lean and firm. His eyes drank in the sight of her though the woman’s face was still obscured by the diaphanous veil that constantly shifted in the wind. How could there be wind in this room? There is no window. This question quickly vanished into the ether when the woman, who had yet to utter a single word, shifted her position in the chair, crossing her legs, which caused the robe to fall open.

  Lerius could scarcely take a breath now. A small swath of jet black hair between the woman’s legs beckoned to him. His skin was on fire, and he was starting to sweat. This woman was the embodiment of all things wanton and rapturous. The promise of pleasure whispered from every curve of her body; the hint of certain satiation shone upon her skin. In the back of his mind, Lerius knew something was amiss, but his body’s reaction to this woman was like nothing he had ever experienced, and he had been running for his life chased by a shadowy figure not moments before, and now…this.

  The woman raised her arm and beckoned for him to join her. Her gesture made the silk robe fall in a pool around her waist. Her bare nipples were dark and hard; a stark contrast to the white of her skin that surrounding them. Lerius gasped, and he could not help but to take a step closer; then another.

  “Lerius.” The woman’s smoky voice caressed his name.

  He was so enamored now that he didn’t question how she knew his name. All he wanted was her, and he wanted her now. Speech seemed beyond him at the moment, so he simply moved closer. The veil now was see-through, and he could tell her face was as comely as her body. Her hands were visible now as well. Her nails were painted bright red and were nearly the length of each finger they grew from. This detail failed to take root in his mind. Lust had overcome his senses; it was a base need that was far more primal than anything he had ever felt before, and he knew he would never feel it again as long as he would live.

  The woman stood. Her robe slid to the floor. Lerius felt the blood rushing through his veins, and he could scarcely hear over the pounding of it. His arousal had reached an apex of soaring desire. The woman’s gossamer veil fell to the floor. Her eyes were pulsing, alternating between red and black and red and black. She took a step closer, and now Lerius could no longer move at all. His body was rigid and immobile, but he could not spare it a thought. She was all that he could focus on. Closer still she came, and he could smell her, an earthy aroma that was redolent of carnal desire and debauchery.

  “Lerius,” she said again, teasing his name over her full lips. Lerius felt he would soon faint away if he could not go to her and touch her. Another step closer, bringing her within arm’s length, yet still he could not move to claim this prize before him.

  He held his breath as her arm moved toward him. Then she touched him.

  He blinked, and he was no longer in the room. Lerius found himself standing on a raised platform. A hard, yet smooth, rock that reminded him of styricite, but with black veins coursing in random patterns just beneath the surface. He had never seen the like. The platform jutted upward in an unnaturally precise cube that stood three spans higher than the ground below.

  The woman was still near him—still touching him.

  The lust quickly receded as he saw what surrounded the platform.

  A sea of ravinors. A mass of the creatures stood in all directions as far as the eye could see. Not one made a noise. He heard none of their usual grunting and snarling. They simply stared in silence. The hunger in their eyes was plain, but there was something holding them back. Lerius knew that it was the woman beside him. He could feel it now, and he knew what she was. She was their queen. Their mother. But did they give birth to her, or she to they? The crowd of ravinors stood in awe of her, as did Lerius. Even knowing, at least partially, of what she was, he was still finding it difficult to take his eyes off of her and assess his circumstances in a logical manner.

  All other thoughts vanished as her hand ran down his chest and grasped his manhood. She pressed herself close, and he could not suppress a shudder of ecstasy as she began to stroke him with one hand; her other hand was now drawing his own over her bare buttocks. Her eyes seemed to be fluctuating faster now between black and red. His eyes were locked onto hers, he could feel her breasts press against him as she continued to attend to him; her breath quickened along with his own as he became more and more excited.

  From the deep recesses of his mind, he could almost hear his less primal side screaming warnings to his other self. This unclad ravinor goddess was bringing him to fulfillment in front of thousands of ravinors. This was not real—it could not be…

  Wake up!

  As if she could feel her hold on him weakening, she planted a warm, wet kiss on his lips, her tongue seeking out his. But still he knew that this was the last thing he needed, and if this went on much longer he would be doomed. His mind struggled against accepting this reality before him. She countered by guiding his hand to the hot wetness between
her legs. She gasped in pleasure, matching his own exhalation of breath.

  “Don’t fight it, Lerius,” she whispered huskily into his ear. “You are one of us now. Let go and live.” She kissed his neck, and then her lips moved back up to his ear. “You and I, Lerius… I as your queen, and you as my consort.”

  If it were just Lerius and the queen alone on that strange platform, there would have been no possible way for him to deny her. But they were not alone. The multitude of ravinors looking up at them had begun to sway back and forth and moan in unison. Lerius jerked back from her as his intellect finally rejected the scene before him.

  Wake up!!! he screamed in his mind—and aloud, yet still the impossible scene before him remained. Just as he was going to give in, as he could not bear to resist for another moment, he heard his name whispered from the heavens.

  “Lerius…”

  The quiet voice must have been from an angel above, sent from the Giver to deliver him from this evil. Whatever it was, and wherever the voice had come from, it forced him back to his senses. He would reject this Taker-spawned siren, regardless of the cost.

  The queen was upset now, though she kept an icy smile on her face. She could read his newfound defiance on his face as plain as day. Her eyes no longer changed color, they were black as coal. Lerius didn’t think red would be much better for his nerves.

  “No one leaves here, Lerius, except as one of my own,” she said as she tied the robe back up around her. Lerius could not help but to feel disappointed; he could tell that what the queen offered would not be offered to him again. And despite everything, he was tempted, but he knew that this vixen before him was no more than a figment of his imagination, as were the thousands of ravinors before him.

  “Oh, it is quite real, young man, and you aren’t the only one to come here. But most never have to be persuaded beyond the room with me. And you will not be the last.”