Voidhawk - the White Lady Page 7

  Logan huffed and turned to Bailynn. He bit at the ropes around her and let her catch herself on him as they gave way. She sank down beside him and wrapped her arms and her face in his hair. “This is the Logan I’ve longed for,” she whispered. She sat back on her legs and held a hand tightly to her belly. “You’ve given me everything I have. Take this lesson from me before it’s too late. This is part of you. You’re more than just a man. You’re here, with me, and you’re still trying to protect me.”

  Logan turned away to face the swamp dwellers. He growled and started towards them.

  “Logan, this is bad.”

  He turned back. Bekka was there, holding Bailynn. “She needs your help, Logan. I can’t fix this.”

  Logan snarled. Bekka was a healer, why couldn’t she help? He’d tasted blood and he wanted more! He growled again as something shifted inside of him. He howled as he felt himself being denied. His body betrayed him, pulling him back and swallowing him up as it contorted and folded upon itself.

  Logan lay gasping on the ground. He coughed, spitting out blood and something fleshy. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the clear night sky. The moon shone down upon him, reminding him of what had happened and of who he was. He’d never remembered so much from a complete change before, nor had he stayed awake through the transition.

  “Logan?”

  The priest looked up, prodded by the sorceress’ voice. He nodded and pulled himself over to her, then pulled Bailynn’s hands away from the hole in her stomach.

  “I’m scared, Logan,” Bailynn whispered. “But I’m so proud of you, too.”

  Logan smiled at her, then put a bloody finger to her mouth. Whether it was her blood or someone else’s he wasn’t sure. He refocused on injury and tried to summon up the energies within him.

  It was there in an instant. He gasped, losing control for a moment. He’d never felt it so pure and available. His mind and body felt fully refreshed, giving him the opportunity he needed to pour the beneficent energies into Bailynn. She gasped, tears running from her eyes as the blood welled up from the hole in her belly. After the blink of an eye had passed, Logan gently brushed away the blood from her stomach and stared at the unblemished pink skin.

  Bailynn picked herself up on her elbow and looked at the wound as well. Her eyes rose to Logan’s but her jaw stayed agape. She threw her arms around him and Logan found himself so caught up in the wonder of it that he was hugging and kissing her back.

  “Um, Guys,” Bekka prompted a moment later. “There’s still this angry tribe of people who tried to cook us for supper…”

  They were talking amongst themselves, a couple of phrases repeating often enough for them to recognize the pattern, even if they couldn’t understand what it meant.

  “They’re calling you beastman.” Haley’s words pulled Logan out of the stupor he’d fallen into.

  The priest looked around and saw the denizens of the swamp were murmuring words that felt alien to him. He stood up slowly, testing each limb and joint. They moved without complaint. He felt better than he had in weeks. “Beastman?” The word tasted foul in his mouth.

  “Not a monster, a powerful and beautiful beast,” Bailynn said softly.

  “Let me guess, there’s a prophecy about a shapeshifter?” Bekka’s tone dripped with scorn.

  Haley tilted her head as she took in the assembled humanoids. “I don’t know speak much of their language.”

  “Beastwalker,” The chief spoke, his words so accented they were hard to understand. “A beast that walks as a man.”

  “I’m a man,” Logan growled. He felt the urge deep inside of him to physically correct the runt, but with an ease greater than he could remember he pushed it aside.

  The chief waved his staff, dismissing the argument. “We were driven from our village. My people suffer and we don’t know this part of the swamp. Always it’s been forbidden to us. My hunters were desperate when they saw your fire.”

  “We have pressing business, let us pass and no more of your people will die,” Bekka said.

  Logan turned to stare at her sharply. She spoke with such conviction and harshness it left him speechless. Beside her he saw Haley’s lip curl up into a faint smile. It looked sinister.

  “What drove you from your lands?” Bailynn asked.

  “Men that wore skins of metal our darts and spears could not pierce.”

  “Metal skins?” Bekka asked.

  “Armor,” Haley said. “There’s a group of well armed bandits that raids from the swamp. They owe their success to a hag that runs them.”

  “A hag?”

  “Swamp witch,” the chief explained.

  Bekka sighed, drawing Logan’s attention again. “Remember the White Lady? We’re supposed to be doing something about her.”

  Logan chose his words carefully. “We’re not bandits.”

  Bekka opened then shut her mouth. She stared at him then turned away to look at Haley. The huntress’ expression gave no indication of her opinion.

  “’Lynn?” Logan asked.

  “Don’t ask me to choose who suffers.” Bailynn stared at him, ignoring the others. “If we ignore these creatures then they die or hurt others. If we help them then another young girl may be taken.”

  “I understand,” Logan said. He turned back to the chief. “Return our things to us. We’ll do what we can to help.”

  The chief stared at him then nodded. “Help us and we will never again hunt man.” He gestured and croaked out an order. Moments later bundles and bags were carried and dragged before them, then dumped onto the spongy ground.

  Logan and the others dug through the assembled equipment. The clothing was torn and the equipment dirty. Logan dressed and felt better as he did so. He even took care to secure his mace to his side instead of leaving it in his pack.

  “Our food’s gone,” Bekka noted. She’d been searching through the assorted gear and dressed last, though only after a long look at Haley. Then huntress had reclaimed her weapon belts and stood ready, a hand upon the grip of each.

  “My people starve,” the chief said.

  “Now we starve,” she muttered.

  “Send a guide to show us the way. Boats as well,” Logan said, ignoring the surly sorceress. Now that Bailynn was coming around it seemed to be Bekka’s turn to act strangely. He’d seen her driven before, but never at the expense of others.

  The chief spoke with his tribe and, after a moment, one of them approached timidly. It looked at Logan then moved past them and headed down the hill to the water. Logan glanced at the others then followed. It seemed that the swamp people wanted them gone as quickly as they wanted to be away.

  The canoes were small but Bailynn and Logan climbed into one while Haley and Bekka claimed another. Logan was no expert on reading the swamp dweller’s facial expressions but he had a hunch their guide was grateful he had a third canoe to himself.

  “You’re not a bandit?” Haley asked as they pushed off.

  Logan nodded. “We’re not. We don’t prey on others, nor do we—”

  “I get it, Logan,” Bekka snapped. “We won’t sink to their level.”

  Logan kept the smile from his lips. “I thought you were a champion for oppressed people. I remember a half elf whose side you once took even though his story seemed odd.”

  The half elf had been named Zhirt and he’d led them into a trap designed to recapture Jenna and feed the rest of the crew to the soul leeching garden the elves used to power their monstrous fortress. They’d fought free of the trap and escaped, though they’d all been wounded near unto death by the time Fort Prudence had been consigned to a fiery death.

  “Aye, and I remember what happened when I thought I could trust someone because we shared the misfortune of heritage!”

  Logan recoiled from her verbal rebuke. He chose silence as the better path to valor.

  “She’s trying to impress Haley,” Bailynn whispered from her position near the bow of the canoe.

  Bekka�
�s oar splashed louder into the water. Logan risked a glance and saw her dig deeper, propelling their boat faster after the guide.

  “Her hearing’s almost as good as Jenna’s,” Logan reminded his boat mate.

  “I know,” Bailynn said, turning enough to let Logan see her face. She smiled at him but he had trouble seeing past her eyes. They were lit up with her own happiness. It was a mixture of joy and something else. Something that shook Logan and made his heart thump in his chest. He looked away quickly, his mouth dry. There was no mistaking the look of unbridled lust.

  “Let’s catch up, there’s no telling how many of these bandits there are.”

  “Aye, we’ll have time enough after.”

  Logan swallowed anxiously and wondered if he should pray for more than just forgiveness for his earlier actions. Should he pray for the strength to survive Bailynn’s desires? His smile died before it made its way to his face. Thoughts of praying reminded him of how he’d healed her.

  “’Lynn, do you feel well?”

  She turned, rocking the boat with her abrupt maneuver. “What? Yes, why? Do you think something’s wrong with me? Can’t believe I want to be with you? I’m not the child I look like! Many men would pay for a woman like me!”

  Logan held up a hand to stall her. It didn’t work until she’d finished venting. He tried to give her a disarming smile before he explained his question. “No, I don’t find anything wrong with you,” he omitted the part where her youthful appearance scared him. He was like the men she’d mentioned, he found her more and more appealing as she forced awareness of how much of a woman she was. “I meant your injury. I’ve never been able to heal something like that before. There are rumors and legends of great healers from my world that could do such things, but they were just that, legends.”

  “Well now you’re a legend,” Bailynn said. Her eyes searched his for a long moment then she turned back and began to stroke her oar through the water again.

  Logan fell silent. He’d done nothing to make him worthy of such a gift. His magic had grown weaker ever since he suffered from his curse. He’d thought it would be gone when he left the world of Acaros behind, but what little he had remained. Small cuts and scrapes had been all he could handle, aside from the common sense of how to bind and tend a wound. Now this sudden burst of energy that restored his own wellness as well as leaving Bailynn unharmed. He shook his head in disbelief.

  Surely his god wouldn’t reward him for releasing the beast inside of him and causing such harm?

  “You sit back there like a lump much longer and I might think you want me to come back and check on you,” Bailynn prompted. She’d turned to stare at him while he was lost in his thoughts.

  Logan jerked, causing the canoe to shift and spill some water over the side. He stared at it in horror, then looked up at her and grinned through the warmth in his cheeks. “As skilled as Haley is I think we’d best help before she tries to take on a small army of knights wearing only her skin as armor.”

  Bailynn smiled. “We’ll talk about it later. Just remember that you are what you are. Denying it isn’t a show of strength, it only divides and weakens you.”

  Bailynn winked at him then turned around again to face the front. Her words made sense, after a fashion, but it also made him think of giving into temptation. How was that any different than gluttony or hedonism? He sighed and put his thoughts away. Bekka and Haley needed them, no matter how high an opinion they had of themselves.

  Chapter 6

  Their guide gibbered something at them and pointed ahead, then put his oar in the water and turned his canoe around as quickly as he could. Logan watched him go for a moment, understanding all too well what was happening. The swamp dwellers weren’t much for courage, that much was plain.

  “We’re on our own now,” Bailynn observed.

  Haley nodded and gave her a smile. Bekka looked ahead, peering around Haley, and put her oar in the water. “Let’s get this over with,” she muttered.

  Logan watched the women get ahead. He couldn’t remember a time when Bekka had ever considered helping someone to be a task to be checked off and brushed away. He dipped his own oar in and together and he and Bailynn followed the sorceress and the huntress around a clump of swamp trees that grew out of the water and towards a large island in the swamp.

  A cry went up as they cleared the trees. A man emerged from behind another tree, a crossbow in hand. He cranked it back and raised it up, then called out another warning to the other bandits that Logan couldn’t see.

  “Now what?” Bailynn hissed. “Are we going to explain how it wasn’t very nice to run off those swamp creatures and ask them to leave?”

  Logan bit back his first response. He suspected his time around short tempered and foul mouthed sailors had been rubbing off on him. With a mental note to spend some time in corrective meditation he said, “We hope he’s not a very good shot.”

  Bailynn glanced at him, then grinned wide enough to show her teeth. She dug her oar into the water and, as soon as Logan joined her action, their canoe surged forward. Bekka and Haley were already on their way. The bandit took aim at the two women and fired.

  A splash brought Logan’s head around. Bekka was alone in her canoe. She’d twisted and stared, open mouthed, at the ripples spreading from where Haley had gone into the swamp. “Move!” Logan yelled at her. The bandit was already cranking back his crossbow for another shot.

  Bekka stared at Logan then twisted back around. She jammed her oar in the water for a stroke then reversed it to the other side for a countering stroke. Of Haley there was no sign. Had she been hit and been knocked out of the canoe?

  “Keep us steady!” Bailynn snapped.

  Logan looked to her and saw her standing up in the front of the small boat. It rocked dangerously but the lithe woman kept her footing easily. She stooped low to pick up her new spear and took careful aim.

  “Better hurry,” Logan urged. The crossbowman finished readying his weapon and was raising it back to aim.

  Bailynn grunted as she threw the spear. The unfamiliar maneuver and treacherous footing pushed the bow of the canoe to the right while she overbalanced to the left. When Bailynn went overboard and crashed into the water the canoe shifted back. Logan’s attempted stroke to help Bailynn worked against him, dipping the edge of the canoe into the water and hesitating for a long moment as water spilled into the vessel before the volume of water tipped it over.

  Logan came up sputtering. He thrashed, flapping his arms and kicking around with his feet in an attempt to stay above water. His foot hit something, forcing his head under water again. He kicked it again and realized it was solid, whatever it was. He hooked his foot on it and managed to get his other leg to it so he could pinch it between them. It had to be a log or a root, it was round and hard.

  Logan’s head broke the surface again but rather than focus on anything around him, he gasped for breath. He pulled himself towards the submerged log with his feet, then it slipped out from beneath him. He went under again, thrusting his feet out wildly to find it. What he found instead was soft and sticky, but it seemed to be everywhere. A wild thought occurred to him, was it the bottom?

  Logan stood up, his feet sinking into the muck. The water came to just beneath his chest. He coughed, overcome with the pain in his chest from the water he’d inhaled. He looked up, remembering Bailynn and the bandit, when a sharp pain erupted in his leg and yanked him back under the water.

  Logan sucked water in again. His sinuses, throat, and chest ached anew but he refused to give in. The submerged creature that had his leg twisted, rolling him through the water and driving him into the muck. His vision, already murky in the water, was useless from the mud and debris that the thrashing kicked up.

  “Use the beast!” Logan jerked, earning a fresh series of rolls through the water. He’d heard Bailynn’s voice. It couldn’t be her, he was under the water! Her voice had seemed like a light shining in the dark, giving him hope.

  The
water was getting darker and the burning in his lungs more distant. Logan was out of time. He gave in, reaching inside and pulling the wolf out. His hands cramped and twisted, then more of his body shifted. Aching for air he bent over and grabbed the mouth of the creature clamped on his leg. He sank his fingers in, feeling the delicious pressure and release as his claws pierced the scaly hide. His other reached around finding the thick throat of the reptile.

  The monster thrashed again, rolling and knocking Logan’s free hand away. He tried again, reaching blindly and gouging whatever part he could. Then he was free, his leg released. Logan spun around, one hand still holding strong on the creature. He wrapped his legs around the thick reptilian body and found its throat again. This time his claws dug deep before he dragged them across. Around the massive reptile the water bloomed a dark red.

  Logan burst free of the water a moment later, coughing and gasping. He hacked and retched, scrambling to get his feet under him again. He trudged towards the shore, remembering the threat of the bandit now that the immediate danger in the water was behind him.

  “Logan!” Bailynn cried out, running into the water towards him. Logan stared at her, slowing even as the ground rose and the water fell to his knees. She threw her hands around him, mindless of the partial conversion he’d undergone.

  Haley stood above the body of the bandit, blood dripping from her hatchet. Bekka was slumped in her canoe, holding her hip that had a crossbow bolt impaled in it. Behind them, further up on the island several men were running towards them, swords and crossbows in hand.

  “You scared me,” Bailynn whispered. “I should’ve known better. Bekka’s hurt, but we need the beast right now, not the healer.”

  Logan tried to respond but the sounds he heard come out of his throat weren’t recognizable. He growled them away in frustration and stared at the men that were nearly upon them. Bailynn let him go and backed away. Logan needed no further urging, he leapt forward, coming down in the last few inches of water on all fours. That gave him the leverage to leap forward further and faster.