WARNING: This story and all others included in "Dreams of Reality" are copyrighted to FuryKyriel, 1997. Any unauthorized publication of this material will be prosecuted.

Blood and Water





(Part Five of Five)
I suppose there were a lot of things I might have done. I might have run for all I was worth, but I couldn't hide forever on a ship I couldn't leave. I might have taken refuge at the zenith of the spell wall, but eventually someone would have found a way to bring me down. I might have fought, but my only legitimate target (from a Fury's standpoint) was Bruun, and killing him now would only convince the Captain that I was a murderer. In the end, the only option I could see that offered any long-term hope was another trial.
    This time I had my own witness, Enric; but it was hard to argue with a corpse whose stiffened fingers still clutched a strand of my hair. Besides, from Bruun's standpoint, my "boyfriend" was hardly the most credible of witnesses. The hunter's smirk widened and the captain's scowl deepened as the trial went on; and as the possibility of a death sentence seemed more and more real, I wondered what I'd do if I did end up fighting for my life.
    When the testimony was complete and I'd had the chance to defend myself (as best I could), Uto called a thirty-minute recess to decide my fate. Since his habit was to walk the decks when he needed to think, the rest of us were consigned to a fidgety half hour in the company of armed guards. No one was allowed to leave the room until he returned. And after an endurance test like that, even I was glad to see him.
    The Captain began to speak the moment he'd cleared the doorway. "Bruun," he said, not bothering to take a seat, "you say this woman needs to kill in order to survive?"
    "This creature, yes," the hunter amended. His eyes gleamed with anticipation.
    "Well then," Uto said calmly, "it should be easy enough to test your assertions. We'll just lock her up in the brig for a few weeks and see what happens."
    Bruun was out of his seat in an instant, even angrier than he'd been in my first trial. "You can't do that!" he spluttered. "You -- "
    The Captain cut him off with a scowl. "Bruun, this is the second time in as many days that you've tried to tell me how to run my court. If there's a third, you'll be arguing your case from a cell."
    "But -- "
    "As for your objection," Uto continued steadily, "which I'm sure will contain some form of the word escape, you'd be wise to restrain yourself until you've seen my brig."
    He led us down into the heart of the ship, and I saw instantly that he was right. The four rooms of the holding area faced inward along a closed hallway. At first glance, they looked like perfectly ordinary jail cells; but there was one crucial addition: the rear half of each was enclosed in a field similar to the Naronica's spell front. This barrier, however, would let everyone but me pass through with ease.
    It was a particularly worrisome arrangement, and one I could imagine a dozen ways for a criminal to misuse. But I had no choice if I wanted to avoid a fight. Nervously I stepped across the line and watched the captain lock me in. Although no magician, he'd had the key tattooed into his palm and could activate the field with a wave of his hand. Once that was done, he turned to leave, the others trailing behind him. Enric and Bruun were the last to go.
    "I'll see you as often as I can," the werewolf said, leaning through the barrier for a goodbye kiss.
    Bruun watched with leering eyes. "I hope you will," he purred, and followed Enric out the door.
   
    "Good morning, Bila, Swin." I looked up at the sound of the familiar voice outside. Enric had visited me several times already, even though we both knew it was more productive for him to nose after Bruun. But after six days with nothing to do but eat, read, and sleep, I could hardly have turned him away even if I hadn't felt the way I did about him. Besides, I was getting hungry, and he'd promised to smuggle in something for me to kill.
    Anxiously I listened while the guards patted him down outside. Bruun was determined not to let me get away with killing another rodent, so he'd instructed that no living thing be allowed inside my cell except Enric -- who was, of course, the bait. All in all, the situation was a little too reminiscent of a previous incarceration, but this time I had an ace in the hole.
    After what seemed like forever, the search was concluded and Enric entered, the door locking shut behind him. "Morning, furylady," he said in English, just in case we were being monitored. "How are you holding up?" The spell wall flickered briefly as he stepped into my cell.
    "Morning, wolfman." I took him by the hands and leaned up for a kiss. "A little hungry, but I'm making out all right."
    "That's good. I've been worried about you." His face brightened. "Fortunately, I have something that will make both of us feel better." And to my surprise, he sat down on the bunk and began to pull off his boot.
    "In there? -- " A grin split my face as I realized what he'd done. From mid-calf down Enric's leg had become a paw, small enough to leave an empty pocket in the boot-toe. "How on earth did you manage to walk around like that?"
    "It took some practice," the werewolf admitted. He turned the boot over and out fell a small, dazed rat, its mouth wrapped in bloody string. "And I had to tie his jaws shut so he wouldn't bite me."
    It would have been a disgusting sight under most circumstances, but neither of us could afford to be picky. Besides, we'd both seen worse in our adventures. Feeling more pity than distaste, I lifted the scruffy body off the floor. "The poor thing doesn't look well enough to do much damage. How long have you had him?"
    "Oh, just a few hours. I squeezed him pretty hard when I caught him, though -- probably did some internal damage. You ought to go ahead and put him out of his misery."
    "You're right." I broke the animal's neck with a quick twist and handed it back, more relaxed already.
    Enric took the body with surprise. "I thought you'd have to change form or use your dagger to make a kill."
    "No, that's really just a formality. Besides, it would be too risky with the guards outside."
    "I guess it would, at that." He raised an eyebrow. "But I must say I was looking forward to having a look at the 'real you.'"
    "You show me yours and I'll show you mine." I allowed myself a smirk before returning to business. "You know, Bruun's going to sense I've made a kill, and it won't take him long to point the finger at you. You'll have get rid of that body quick."
    "I will," Enric promised. He dropped the rat back in his boot, gave me another quick kiss, and stood to leave. "Well, we can always hope he'll be angry enough to choose me for his next victim. I think I might enjoy that." Then he was gone, and I was left alone to fear and hope.
   
    I spent the rest of the day expecting a confrontation, either an angry one from Bruun or a sober one from Uto, or maybe even the ruckus of a distant battle. But nothing -- quite literally nothing -- happened. Lunch came, then dinner, and even a late-night snack (these jailers never stinted on my physical needs). But I had no other visitors.
    It was noon of the following day before I broke down and asked a guard what was going on.
    "Bruun's changed his orders," she said, sliding my lunch tray through the barrier with a pole. No one but Enric trusted me enough to get closer. "We can't allow any more visitors, not even your boyfriend."
    "Did he say why?" It was a useless question, but I had to ask.
    "Nope." She hurried away before I could speak again. Apparently, whatever I had was considered contagious.
    Moodily I took the tray back to my bunk. "Bruun's orders" -- well, I could have guessed that much without being told, but the "why" was a bit trickier. Was it revenge for Enric's stunt or part of his plan from the beginning? Maybe he'd really wanted to do more but Uto had stopped him.
    In any case, depriving me of Enric was the perfect psychological warfare. The werewolf was all I could think about those next few days. I wondered what he was doing, if he was thinking about me as much as I was him. I imagined dozens of ways for him to reach me, even turning into a wolf and padding right down the hall and into my room. The latter would have the added benefit of scaring the guards senseless, but I knew it was too impractical to work.
    For eight days I sat alone, my only company the guards who pushed me my food and ran. I ached to see Enric again, or failing that, Bruun, at least -- just so I could twist his scrawny neck. And as the days went on, I also began to ache for a kill. There was little satisfaction in executing rats, so I'd needed to hunt more often on board ship than I had elsewhere. The Fury was seething by the time I heard new footsteps outside my door.
    Bruun was the first to speak, his voice oozing through the wood like slime. "It's all right," he said, apparently speaking to the guards. "I've searched him already."
    "And quite thoroughly, too. Enjoyed yourself, did you, Bruun?" It was Enric!
    I leapt to the barrier as he rushed inside -- alone, thank God. Bruun had stayed behind to lock the door.
    "I'm sorry I couldn't get here any sooner." Enric said, his face tense with emotion. "Are you doing all right?"
    "A little hungry." I pulled him close. "But there's no use talking about it. I'm just glad to see you again."
    Enric pulled back enough to see my face. "Maybe you shouldn't be," he answered, frowning. "I'm here because Bruun came to me and said it was time to see you again. He's up to something -- and I think I'm the one who's pushed him into it."
    "You give yourself too much credit," came a voice from behind Enric's back. Turning, we saw what looked like a mask of Bruun's face, grinning like a jackal as it hung at head level inside of the door.
    I jumped when the mask spoke. "I would have come for your mistress no matter what," it said to Enric. "Your conversion just brought me here more quickly." It lifted away from the door, pulling a skinny neck behind it. A pair of hands quickly followed, the wood rippling as they rose into view. "Such a careless mistake, demon," Bruun purred as the rest of his body oozed through the door. "How could you think I wouldn't notice when you increased your minion's power? I've felt him in my mind for three days now: little flashes and bursts at first, but getting stronger." We stood frozen as he stepped across the floor. "I don't understand how you're doing it, locked away with no access to him, but that's hardly important at this point. The damage is done, and now you'll both have to pay."
    Finally I noticed the powder that dusted his head and clothes: dust-fine and green as grass. It had to be the source of this new ability -- and it explained a lot. Breaking into cabins to kill and plant evidence? No need for keys when you can walk through the door! Moving a body from one side of the ship to the other? Just drag it through the walls!
    Solving the mystery brought a measure of satisfaction, but right now I had larger concerns: what he'd said about Enric, for example. If the werewolf was psychically immune, as he'd told me so long ago, Bruun shouldn't have been able to sense him at all. "Enric?" I dragged my eyes away from the hunter just long enough to look up.
    The werewolf gave me a look that was half frustration, half warning; there was no way he could answer me right now. Instead he pulled away and stepped into the open space beyond the barrier, drawing his sword. "You're not getting to her," he growled.
    The doctor only laughed. "You don't understand," he said, slipping backwards through the door and reappearing in the corner. "It's you I want now."
    He must have taken out the guards already, I thought, watching Bruun bob and weave through the woodwork. Two more deaths to lay on my head -- or will Enric get the blame this time? Once we were out of the way, Bruun could make up whatever story he liked. I had to keep him talking, distract him enough to give Enric a chance. "How are you doing it, Bruun?" I asked. "Is it the green powder?"
    "Naturally!" the doctor grinned, and ducked back through the wall just in time to avoid Enric's lunge. When he reappeared, he was still outside the barrier of my cell. He knew as well as I did that the easiest way to deal with us was separately. "It's my secret -- the one thing they didn't think to take when they stole -- my bag of tricks. Idiot humans, expelling the hunter and -- embracing the demons! I'll go back for them one day!"
    Throughout this speech he'd been ducking and dodging through the walls, the last time just ahead of a slice that should have taken his face off. Enric was still using his sword, and I couldn't help wondering why he had changed yet. He'd told me he had a battle form that was half-wolf and half-human. Surely claws would have given him more control -- and the element of surprise, as well.
    Again the hunter disappeared, and when he didn't swim back into view immediately, Enric turned my way. "Kyriel -- " he began apologetically.
    "Yaaah!" Bruun burst through the opposite wall, swinging something that looked a bit like a five-edged sword: the most awkward but undeniably deadly weapon I'd ever seen. Worse yet, it was etched from blade to hilt with the kind of runes that spelled death for a supernatural. My eyes watered just looking at it.
    From the expression on Enric's face, I knew he had the same reaction. "Get Bruun in here!" I yelled as Enric ducked beneath the initial thrust. I pounded the spell wall uselessly. "We can double-team him!" But Bruun had already slipped into a corner, as far away from the barrier as he could get, and Enric had no choice but to follow. He lunged forward and down, attempting to duck the blade and knock Bruun off his feet at the same time.
    It was a clumsy effort; the weapon slashed across his back, drawing blood and a howl, while Bruun remained standing. Through the rips in Enric's shirt I saw steam and bubbling flesh, almost as if he'd been burned by acid. The werewolf rolled backwards and crawled to his knees as Bruun stalked toward him.
    "Looks like you didn't make him strong enough," the hunter said, tossing a cheerful glance my way. I'd never seen him look as happy as he was now, moving in for the kill.
    But Enric wasn't ready to give up yet. "Guess again," he snarled, and as his lips pulled back from his teeth, I watched his canines extend into two-inch fangs.
    Bruun threw up his hands in mock surprise. "Ha!" he crowed. "Finally revealing yourself, vampire? You should have done it sooner; I have a better weapon for your kind!" With a twist of the handle, he shucked off the outer blades of his weapon to reveal a foot-long wooden stake. "This will hurt a lot less in the long run."
    I, meanwhile, dropped my hands and stood in silent shock. Enric a vampire? I thought. Just how many lies have I been told? Between the surprise, the horror, and the hunger, my rage was almost overpowering. I promised myself I'd wait only until one of them -- at this point, it didn't matter which -- crossed into my cell. Then the Fury would have her revenge.
    Somehow managing to avoid the stake, Enric struggled to his feet and lunged again. With one hand he grabbed Bruun's wrist; with the other he tried to pry away the weapon. But with Enric weakened by injury and Bruun strengthened by madness, the match was almost even.
    Again I pressed myself against the barrier, my motive darker this time. "Come on, come on," I muttered as their struggles wrenched them my way. But as the contest wore on, I found myself worrying that Enric hadn't recovered his strength yet. I'd have healed by now I told myself, and so would Aedros. The thought of that vampire strengthened my resolve, and I pounded the wall with my fist. It was terrible to be angry and not have the iron dagger for release.
    Then it happened: Enric's heel crossed the painted line and he stumbled backwards, almost into my arms. Instantly the Fury boiled out, all hissing snakes and snapping flames, with the dagger a dark weight in my hand. I swept it up for the killing blow. But at the apex of my swing Enric looked up, and in his eyes were love and awe -- and trust. I switched my aim to Bruun without a thought.
    At the sight of my change the hunter had screamed and pulled away, but he was quick to recover. He threw himself out of the cell, scrambling back toward the quintuple blade so fast he ended up tangling himself in his own robes. I met his eyes through the field and shot him a paralyzing gaze, but he kept on moving. "Damn this stupid field!" I shrieked, and pounded the barrier again.
    Suddenly a howl rose at my side, and a tan-and-brown blur shot past at lightning speed. It was Enric, running on all fours, fur rippling across his skin like a wave. He knocked Bruun away just as the man's hands closed around his weapon, then planted his feet and issued a blood-chilling growl of warning. It was a beautiful sight.
    For a moment Enric was all wolf, four-legged, golden-eyed, and fiercely majestic. Then he placed one paw on the blade handle and began to change again, body rippling as he rose, until a half-man-half-beast stood clutching the strange weapon in a claw. "Now," he said, his voice low and fang-laden, "let's see who's not strong enough."
    Frantically the hunter scrabbled for his stake, but Enric just stood there, arms open wide in what could only be described as an invitation. Bruun took it, ramming the stake into his chest with a force that doubled the man-beast over.
    I screamed, and Bruun let loose a wild howl of victory. But Enric, whom we both expected to fall dead, pulled himself upright and began to laugh. Looking down at the stake, then over at the sword, he shook his head in amusement. "Guess what, Bruun -- you've just run out of weapons."
    Bruun's jaw dropped until it almost touched his chest. Trembling, he began to backtrack toward my cell. "This isn't right," he muttered, hands feeling blindly for a wall to slip through. He didn't dare take his eyes off the man in front of him. "No vampire can survive a stake through the heart."
    "Probably not," Enric conceded. He shrugged, then stepped toward the frightened man. "But a werewolf can." With a growl he swung at Bruun's head and the doctor, bleating with fear, fell back again -- almost into my lap. I caught him around the neck and gored his chest from behind.
    Instantly Enric sagged to the floor, dropping Bruun's sword and gingerly cradling the stake in his chest. Since he was still out of reach, I could only gesture for him to come nearer. "Enric," I pleaded, "let me pull that out so you can heal."
    "No." He closed his eyes and grimaced while the last of the wolf melted away. As it did so, the stake slid outwards, but he stopped it before it slipped out of his chest completley. My stare brought only a faint smile. "It's all right," he grunted, reassuring me not at all. "I can hold onto a wound as long as I hold onto a shape, but if I shift, it heals automatically; and Uto needs to see this." And letting go of the stake, he peered down at himself. "It doesn't look quite so deadly now, does it?"
    "Not quite." Again I reached out a shaking hand and drew back. "Are you sure you're all right?" With anyone else, I'd have been screaming for a healer; but although I knew a little about supernaturals and so-called "mortal" wounds, this was Enric, after all. I didn't want to take any chances.
    "I'll live." He tried to smile, but it ended in a grimace. "Now, you're going to have to use my knife to cut my back again. It's the only way we can explain my ripped shirt and the blood. After that we'll plant the blade in Bruun, and the rest of the story will fall into place."
    "You had this all planned ahead of time, didn't you?"
    "Most of it." Humbly he ducked his head. "I was trying to tell you when Bruun came through the door. My idea was that if I could throw him off track, make him think we were vampires, we'd have a better chance of fighting back. But I must say, I never expected anything like that." He pointed to the five-bladed sword.
    "Did it hurt as much as it seemed?"
    "Almost. It took a lot of will power not to change and heal the wounds." His lips curled upwards. "But I have to admit, Kyriel, a lot of that fight was just an attempt to get him into range for you. He'd never have touched me otherwise." He slipped through the barrier and turned his back to me. "But let's get this over with so I can find Uto and a healer."
    I picked up his knife a little gingerly, unsure if I could bring myself to cut him. "Wait a minute," I stalled. "The are a couple of things I still don't understand."
    "Such as?"
    "The fangs, for starters. You know, you really had me thinking you were a vampire. I was ready to kill you for lying to me when you dropped into my cell."
    "I was that convincing, eh?" Enric leaned forward to give me a better look at his back, seemingly unconcerned by this other near brush with death. "It was just a combination of practice and rolling a nine for control. You've seen me change my hands and feet; teeth weren't that much harder."
    "I'm sure," I said dryly. "And losing your psychic shield?"
    "Didn't I tell you I could drop it?"
    His chuckle turned into a yelp as the knife raked his back.
   
    When Enric staggered out of the brig, bloodied front and back, with the stake still protruding from his chest, rumors raced across the ship like wildfire. In fact, Uto had to eject several gawkers from the sickroom before he could even bring me inside.
    Enric was waiting for us, and smiled wanly up from his bed as I entered. "Kyriel. Long time no see."
    I played along, glancing anxiously between the captain and the healer. "Is he going to be all right?"
    "Nothing a little bed rest won't cure," the younger man smiled. "I've repaired the wounds, but it will take some time for his blood to regenerate."
    Uto laid a hand on my shoulder as I feigned relief. "Thank you, doctor. Would you please leave us alone for awhile?"
    "Certainly." The healer slipped outside to deal with the crowd.
    When he was gone, the captain took a seat next to Enric and sighed heavily. "Bruun's sword matches the wounds on the victims' necks," he told us, "and we found a chest of the green powder in his cabin. I've tested it myself; it does just what you said it would."
    "Thank you, captain." I squeezed Enric's hand as the real relief hit. "So I'm in the clear?"
    "Well," Uto placed his hands on his knees and leaned back, "that's just it, Kyriel. When you get right down to it, there's always the possibility that you two engineered the whole thing, planting the evidence in Bruun's room just as you say he planted it in yours -- "
    "That's ridiculous!" Enric snorted.
    Quickly Uto held up a hand. "Now, son, you know how I hate to be interrupted. Hear me out." He glared heavily at each of us before continuing. "It's also possible that even if Bruun was mad -- and the murderer -- his sense about the two of you wasn't entirely wrong. I've known several people with the gift in my lifetime, and none of them were exactly what I'd called stable."
    I held my breath.
    "Of course," he continued unperturbed, "being a supernatural doesn't necessarily make you a monster, and I saw for myself how you handled my medallion. Nothing evil could have done that. Besides, all this is just speculation, anyway."
    My tension eased by a hair.
    "So -- " I jumped as the captain clapped my shoulder again -- "in the interest of fairness, Kyriel, I'm giving you one more shot at freedom." His hand bore down a little harder. "But if anyone else dies, I'll slaughter you myself."
    "That sounds fair to me, sir." I managed, not quite hiding my relief.
    "Oh, and one more thing," Uto smiled. "Supernatural or not, no one should be in possession of a tool like that powder. I've thrown the whole chest overboard."
    "With the contents still inside, I hope?" Enric countered, not missing a beat. I had to snicker.
    "You are a pesky fellow, aren't you?" The captain peered at him from under bushy brows. Then he shot a wink my way. "I can see why you like him, Kyriel. Yes, with the powder inside, boy! And don't you dare question my honesty after the good faith I've shown you two!" And with that, he swept out of his chair and out of the room.
    We managed to restrain our giggles until the door was closed.
    "So, Kyriel," Enric said when we could speak again, "Now that you've seen my 'wolf suit,' what do you think?"
    "Beautiful. And the 'real me'?"
    "Stunning."
    We stared at one another, surprised by the seriousness of our responses. "Enric," I said hesitantly, "I think we've stopped joking around."
    "I think you're right." He reached up to caress my cheek. "What do you suppose that means?"
    I wasn't quite sure I could say it aloud, but with Enric, it didn't matter anyway. "I don't know, but if it's okay with you, I'd like us to spend more time together until we figure it out."
    "That sounds good to me." Again he clasped my hand, and we sat together in silence.



architectural friezes courtesy of Randy D. Ralph at the Icon Bazaar
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