Page 57 of Veinblood
The frustration that’s been building for days—my separation from Ellie, the knowledge that Sereven still lives, the constant knowledge that other people’s survival rests upon my shoulders—all of it falls away in the face of this immediate threat.
Here is something I can actually control. These soldiers represent everything that’s wrong with Meridian, everything that stands between me and finding Ellie.
I move forward alone, shadows pooling around me. The familiar rush of power flows through my veins as darkness responds to my call. For the first time in days, I’m not running or hiding, and not having to make choices between duty and desire.
I’mhunting.
The path winds between tall standing stones, natural pillars of granite that have stood here since before the Authority existed. They provide perfect concealment for someone who knows how to use it. I flow from shadow to shadow, the darkness bending around me until I’m invisible againstthe stone.
My raven circles overhead, feeding me constant information about the patrol’s position.
Eight soldiers, moving with the confidence of men who aren’t expecting trouble. Their formation is loose, their attention scattered and relaxed. Under different circumstances, facing normal Veinwardens, they might pose a real threat.
But I am far from normal.
The first soldier dies without even knowing I’m there. One moment he’s glancing around, the next shadows coalesce into a blade that opens his throat in one single, silent motion.
“Shal neth korvain.” Voidcraft swallows his dying gasp, then his body, leaving only blood cooling on the rocks.
The second notices his companion’s absence seconds too late. He turns, mouth opening to call out, but my shadowblade pierces his heart before sound can escape. His eyes widen in shock, then glaze over as I withdraw the blade. Another whispered word, and the void claims him as well.
The third soldier glimpses movement and spins toward me, sword clearing its sheath. He’s fast, well-trained, probably a veteran of numerous skirmishes against Veinwardens. His stance is solid, his grip sure.
But he’s fighting a man who’s spent years perfecting the art of killing with darkness.
Shadows explode outward from my position, coming down like a storm cloud to black out the light. In the sudden darkness, their coordination shatters. The third soldier’s sword cuts through empty air, while my blade opens his throat frombehind. He falls forward, clutching at the wound, but I’m already moving toward the next target.
“Attack!” The shout comes from somewhere in the darkness, strained with fear. “We’re under?—”
His words die as my blade takes his head. The sound of his body hitting the ground echoes strangely in the shadow-scape I’ve formed around us, muffled and distorted.
The remaining four cluster together, backs to each other, swords out and ready. They’re scared now, facing an enemy they can’t see, can’t predict, and can’t fight by conventional means. Their training has prepared them for battles against other soldiers, not for this kind of warfare.
Shadows lift me and I take the fifth from above, dropping on top of him. My weight drives him to the ground while my blade severs his spine. He convulses once and goes still.
“It’s the Shadowvein Lord,” one of them screams, the words carrying pure terror. “He’s here!”
The sixth tries to run, breaking formation in blind panic. Shadows catch him before he’s taken three steps, wrapping around his legs like chains. He falls hard, striking his head against stone. I end his suffering with a quick thrust to the heart.
Two left.
They’ve given up any pretense of formation now, standing back to back, weapons shaking in their hands. One of them is young, barely more than a boy. The other is older, grizzled, with scars that tell of long service.
“Please,” the older one whispers. “We have families.Children.”
The plea should give me pause. If Ellie were here, she would remind me that these are men with lives and loved ones, not monsters. But she isn’t, and his words only make me angrier. How many Veinblood children have died because of soldiers like these? How many families have been torn apart by the Authority’s persecution?
“So did we,” I say, and let the shadows take them both.
The void swallows their screams, their pleas, their final breaths. In less than a few minutes, the threat is eliminated, and the path to Whiterock cleared. But the violence has done nothing to ease the ache of separation from Ellie. If anything, it's made it worse.
Had she been here, would I have given them mercy?
I return to the others, shadows dissipating around me like smoke. Blood stains my clothes, my hands, probably my face, but no one comments on it. All but Nyassa have seen me kill before. They know what I'm capable of when unleashed.
“The path is clear now.”
Everyone resumes walking, except Nyassa. She stands on the path, staring at me.
