Khollo screamed in agony as pain shot through him. He felt the creature’s claws carve furrows through his flesh, felt hot blood running across his skin. His ribs buckled and he found that he could hardly breathe. A clawed hand entered his field of vision, then the vertag lifted him by the neck.
Khollo kicked and struggled, though it caused him still more pain. He heard his name being shouted by multiple voices. He heard noises in the corridor below, the sound of many people in the stairwell. But what commanded his attention was the leering monster in front of him, fangs bared, hand squeezing Khollo’s neck until his vison blurred and swam.
I’m going to die, Khollo thought, suddenly frightened. This is the end. He closed his eyes, wishing the beast would get on with it. His hand loosened around the Sen-teel –
The Sen-teel!
A furious strength welled up within him, somewhere from within the bloody ruin that was his chest. Khollo stabbed up and out, burying the blade in the vertag’s breast. The hand loosened around his throat and Khollo withdrew his blade and stabbed again. He heard nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing, just stabbed and stabbed until he found himself kneeling over the monster, his blade coated with black blood. With a final effort, Khollo raised the Sen-teel overhead and stabbed downwards, into the place where the creature’s heart ought to be. The vertag stiffened, shuddered, then relaxed, dead.
Khollo had only a moment to realize his victory. A sudden numbness swept over him, starting in his chest and spreading to every corner of his being. Bereft of strength, he sagged back, and would have hit the stone roof if strong arms had not caught him. Then a voice was murmuring in his ears, though he barely understood the words.
“No! Stay with me Khollo! You’re not allowed to die now. Medic! Get a medic, blast you!”
Janis, Khollo thought dully through the numbness. His uncle’s face swam into view. He wore a stricken expression, flecks of black blood on one cheek. Another face appeared beside Janis’. The owner was cradling his left arm awkwardly, tears in his eyes.
“I should have been faster, I should have been there to save him!” The voice was Sermas’, grief stricken, nearly breaking multiple times. The cadet was crying now, tears flowing down his cheeks. “Hold on, Khollo. The medics are on their way. They’ll fix this!”
Khollo made no reply. He wanted to reassure them, to stop their fussing. He was fine, just tired. Exhausted really. He wanted nothing better than to sleep right now. He felt unconsciousness begin to envelop him like a warm blanket. Funny, the pain wasn’t so bad now.
“No! Janis! Khollo, don’t do this!” Rough hands were shaking him.
I’m only tired, Khollo thought irritably. Why won’t they let me rest?
“Finally!” Janis’ voice, half relieved, half desperate. “Hurry, he may not have much time.”
New hands took over, lowering Khollo to the stone roof. He heard muttered exclamations, felt cold fingers probing his wounds. Khollo wanted them to go away, to let him rest.
You must not.
Khollo frowned. This voice was new, foreign. Strong, yet gentle. Forceful, but not unkind.
Do not rest yet. Soon, the voice promised.
But I’m exhausted, Khollo thought. Just an hour or two.
Do not rest. You must stay awake. You must heal.
“This will be painful,” another voice muttered. “But that wound has to be cleaned.” A burning fluid coursed over Khollo. He screamed and screamed until his throat was raw. Amazingly, he could still scream, even though the vertag had crushed his throat. Cruel hands were poking and prodding him, sharp pains in his chest marching in a line from his collarbone down to his right side, at the base of his rib cage.
Nearly there, stay with me, young one, the voice said persuasively. Not much longer, then you may sleep. You must live. I need you.
Live? Of course I’ll live, Khollo thought peevishly. I’m just tired. And cold. So cold. He shivered, and gentle hands held him down. His chest was numb all over now. He didn’t know what that meant, but his vision was clearing slowly. He blinked, tried to look around, to identify the source of the voice.
Lay still, the voice said quickly. You are out of danger now. I will let you rest. But you must remember when you wake. Remember me, young one. I need you. I am trapped.
Who is that? Khollo wondered.
I am trapped and in the dark, the voice replied. You must find me. Free me.
But I don’t even-
Free me, the voice said again, this time a mere whisper. But now . . . rest. Recover. Grow strong and healthy once more.
“He’s out of danger for now, my lord.”
A low moan came from behind Khollo. “Thank you,” Janis murmured. “Thank you.”
Khollo tried to turn, to see his uncle, but strong hands pushed him flat. Hands he had not the strength to resist. “Not yet, lieutenant,” a quavering voice said. “Lie still. Try and rest.”
“If the voice will let me,” Khollo muttered.
“What voice?”
“The trapped one,” Khollo muttered, slipping closer and closer to unconsciousness. “Which of you said that?”
“He’s rambling,” Khollo heard Sermas say worriedly. “Is he fevered do you think?”
“Rest, Khollo,” Janis said soothingly, his tears splashing on Khollo’s bare chest. “Just rest.”
Khollo nodded slightly and lay back. Darkness claimed him, a deep, dreamless sleep. Just before he lost consciousness, he heard the voice again.
Do not forget. Free me.
Chapter 16
Khollo woke in absolute darkness. He was aware that he was lying in a bed, a bed with soft sheets
