Blood Harvest

The children slept in a little cluster of tents, sheltered and warmed by Isranon's magic, segregated by age and nature. The tents of the sa'necari children were black oiled canvas; those of the nibari children were green. Predator and prey were not yet trusted to dwell together while the camp slept, and a guard prowled the darkness in the wretched weather to make certain that the sa'necari children did not leave their tent before an adult was available to oversee their actions.

Jingen Scathwick and Stygean Loosestrife shared a tent alone, because they were the only two who had matured into their fangs. Like the rest of the children, they had been born sa'necari. In ages past when the sa'necari were merely a cult of death and necromancy, the sa'necari were created through their rites of rape and death known as mortgiefan. However, over the generations, the rites had altered their genes and they had begun to be born sa'necari, with all the appetites and powers of the undead coming upon them at puberty. That made all of the children potentially very dangerous, especially Jingen and Stygean who had already passed into the first phases of sa'necari pubescence.

Stygean threw himself down on his bedroll with an angry flounce, his arms folded tight across his slender chest, and his dark gray eyes blazing. His long black curls flew around his face and then settled. "They wouldn't let me see my father."

Jingen rolled his eyes at Stygean. He lay on his back, pretending he was sticking a knife into someone with sharp gestures of his hands. "You really want to get out in this weather?"

"I. Want. To. See. My. Father." Stygean turned onto his side.

"I wouldn't want to see him," Jingen said in a disparaging tone. "He looks ghastly."

Stygean winced at Jingen's words, put two fingers to his eyes, and dabbed at the moisture gathering there. "He's withering."

"Huh! That's an understatement. The renunciate's bitch is sucking all the life out of him. All the magic and bio-alchemy. The way she keeps her fangs in him, I bet his mage net and shaukras are crisped."

Stygean swallowed and fought to keep his voice from cracking. "Shut up, Jingen."

"Why? It's a fact. He's dying faster than the others. That's what my mother says."

The black metal links of the slave collar chafed Stygean's neck, and he ran his fingers beneath it, letting the chill air cool his skin. Stygean refused to look at Jingen, refused to let Jingen see just how much his words hurt. Overnight Stygean's fortunes had plummeted from the heights of a veritable mountaintop to the depths of the darkest abyss he could imagine. His father, Liuthan had been one of the most powerful of the Five Captains of the Coast, who ruled Ocealay, and now he was a blood-slave of the Beast. Stygean shivered, remembering the fateful day that it all went wrong. He had watched his father and mother ride off to a dinner party and then fallen asleep reading, while he tried to wait up for them. Going to his parents' suite, Stygean was ambushed by a lycan who was going through their things, beaten, and tossed into the dungeons. Tears welled up worse with the images running through his mind. For reasons that Stygean could not understand, the other boy's mother was not withering, while his own father was wasting away even though they had both been taken on the same day.

"Jingen…" Stygean began and hesitated.

Jingen made another idle stabbing motion and rolled onto his side to regard Stygean. "What?"

Stygean ran his tongue over his lips. "Your mother… is she withering?"

"No."

"Yet, my father…" Stygean could not say the word. His chest tightened and his throat felt as if a large hand was squeezing it shut.

Jingen snorted. "The Beast can make it happen faster if she wishes. No doubt, the renunciate encouraged her to do it. He might even had ordered her to." Jingen made a slurping noise. "Bio-alchemy all gone, wither away, wither away."

"Shut up!"" Stygean shrieked and covered his ears, curling into a ball. "Don't talk like that."

Jingen chuckled a moment, and then sobered. "Like what? I'm not sticking the blade in. I'm just being honest."

"I don't like the way you…"

"I know you don't. But I don't want you wussing out on me. We made a pact, Stygean. You and I. We're going to kill the renunciate and avenge our families."

"I'm not going to wuss out on you."

"Good. Because, when the opportunity comes for us to stick blades into him, I want you doing your share."

Stygean sucked in an unsteady breath. "I can do it."

GODWAR CENTRAL

Blood Harvest