“Shut up and die.” He snarled and leapt, and this time Anu stood rock still, eyes fixed on him, sunlight glinting from her silver fangs…at the last, split second, she twisted, and his claws slashed past her throat; his fangs slammed for her artery but she was moving, rolling away, to come up with her own claws extended, a curious calm on her face as Vashell growled, and they circled, and he leapt again with a scream of anger and Anu swayed, faster than a blur, and slammed a blow which removed Vashell’s face. The skin came off in Anu’s claws, removed like a mask, to leave him stood, muscle-masked skull gaping at her in utter disbelief. His face was now a red, pulsing orb from hairline to jaw, and Anu stood up straight, holding his face in her hands, watching his blood drip to the floor and he glanced up, eyes full of pain, eyes full of staggered understanding…
“That’s for betraying me,” she whispered.
With a growl, he launched at her and she delivered a side-kick to his chest, knocking him back, then leapt high, coming down with both claws extended to slam Vashell to the ground. She landed, kneeling atop his chest, claws locked around his throat.
“Don’t kill me,” he said, and she looked down at his new, bloody, destroyed face.
“Why not?”
His claws flexed behind her, and without moving her own vachine claws slammed out, cutting them from his fingers, then again to his other hand. Vashell howled in fresh agony, blood-oil spurting from all ten mangled stumps, and Anu leant close to him, mastery flooding her, along with a cold metallic hate. She leaned forward, and her fangs sank into his throat, and he writhed for a while, legs kicking, clawless hands slapping at her in an attempt to dislodge this vachine parasite from feeding. She appreciated the irony of reversal as he screamed and struggled, flapping uselessly, weakly, and Anu finally pulled away, her mouth wearing a beard of blood-oil, and she smiled down at him, reached down, and with a savage wrench, plucked out his fangs.
Anu sat on the jetty, kicking her legs, as Alloria approached to crouch beside her. Tentatively, the woman’s hand touched Anu’s shoulder and she turned, their eyes meeting, Anu’s face coated in slick blood. Some way off, Vashell lay, curled into a ball, weeping salt tears onto the open muscles of his face.
“Are you in pain?”
“No.” Anu shook her head, forced a smile. “Come. We must leave this place. It will attract more soldiers like moths to a lantern.” She stood, stretched, and her fangs slid away. She walked over to Vashell with Alloria trailing her, uncertain, her green eyes filled with a curious mix of fear and wonder.
“Wait,” said Queen Alloria.
“Yes?”
“Where am I? What am I doing here?”
“This is the Silva Valley-where the vachine live.”
“I have never…heard of such a place. And yet we are in the mountains, yes? The Black Pike Mountains?”
“Yes. In their heart.”
“I thought the Black Pikes were impassable. That is what the people of Falanor believe.”
Anu shook her head. “Many of your, shall we say respectable citizens, think like that. But there is a roaring blood trade by Blacklippers. They have no morals. They have no…empathy. No fear.”
“What is a Blacklipper?”
“The Halfway People. Illegal to the vachine of Silva Valley, and ostracised by the good men and women of Falanor. They are your illegals, your freaks and vagabonds, the army deserters destined to die, the deformed left to perish in low mountain passes. That is your tradition, isn’t it? With the babes who have no arms? Those of twisted limb? Those are the Blacklippers, they are not the pretty people of a good, noble society. They are the weak. The cripples. The diseased. The underlings who you would rather imagine did not exist.” Anu took a deep breath, then looked away up the cold, flowing river. Like me, she thought. And smiled. “I’m sorry. I’m bitter. I have recently been…abused, as an outcast, something different. It’s not a pleasant feeling to be hated by those who once accepted you.” She met Alloria’s gaze. “Once, your outcasts ran to us; but the vachine, also, are filled with a primitive superiority and they turned on the Blacklippers. Now, illegally, the Blacklippers gradually feed your nation to ours. They think of it as a kind of justice. Of payback.”
“Feed?”
Anu smiled. “We have a currency in blood,” she said, and Alloria gasped, hands coming to her mouth.
“Is that why your army invaded?”
Anu nodded. “Our civilisation expands, and our needs multiply. We are losing the war in an ability to satiate our own needs. And so…” her voice trailed off, as her eyes alighted on the now silent form of Vashell. “So we must spread out, move south; to where there are many ripe, succulent pickings.”
“You talk about my people, the good people of Falanor, as if they are cattle!” snapped Alloria, eyes hard.
“They soon will be,” said Anu, her head tilting to one side. “Once the vachine roll in the Blood Refineries.”
“I don’t understand. My husband, the king, is a great warrior. He has thousands of soldiers at his disposal; an army of unconquerable might! He will oppose any invasion with savage force, and chase your vachine people back to the mountains like the savages you undoubtedly are. Either that, or slaughter them without mercy.”
Across the clearing, Vashell started to laugh. He sat, bloody face leering at them, mangled hands in his lap, laughing in an obscene gurgle.
Anu strode to him. “Something funny, you faceless bastard?”
Vashell reclined a little, looking up at her. “My. Kradek-ka really did a fine job on you, my twisted, sweet little deformity. His technology, I admit, is superb, for never have I been bested in battle. Not by human, not by vachine.” He took a deep breath, and Anu could see the pain in his eyes; not just a physical pain, but a mental scarring. He was trying to mask this with bravado; but she knew him too well.
“I threw your face in the river,” she said, leaning close. “I didn’t think you’d be needing it again.”
Vashell shrugged. “You may do what you wish to me; but you do know they will come.”
“Who?”
“The Harvesters. I am linked. They have sensed my pain. As you sit there, on your arse, squabbling with prime succulent Falanor Queen-meat, they have already decided your fate. No longer is Kradek-ka to be brought back. I’d wager they simply need your extermination, for your threat is great; your threat, now, is terrible. If you are lucky, little Anu, you little twisted vachine experiment Anu, they will send the cankers. But if you are unlucky…”
“They will never catch us,” said Anu, and there was a tinge of panic to her voice. She feared the Harvesters. Everybody feared the Harvesters.
“If you’re unlucky, they will come themselves.”
Anu’s claws slid free. She glared down at Vashell, and even in his pain, now over the sudden shock of his ripped-off face, he mocked her. His arrogance, and loathing, had returned. “I will kill you,” she growled, her own hatred swelling.
“No,” said Alloria, grasping Anu’s arm. Anu threw Alloria to the ground, where she lay, staring up at these two alien creatures.
“I will kill you,” repeated Anu, and moved in close…
“That would be foolish. How, then, would you find your father?”
Snow was falling, and the rearing mountains were diffused. Light had started to fail, and the sky held that curious grey brightness, a cold tranquillity, only found in the mountains. A slow unrolling of mist eased in from the around the barracks, and Anu caught the silent approach from the corner of her eye. Ice prickled up and down her spine.
“Where is he?” she snapped.
“You need me,” said Vashell, his eyes burning. “Only I know where he was last seen. I have my reports. If you kill me, and believe me, I am willing to die, then he will be gone from you forever.” He snarled at her, through torn and ragged lips, from a face of rancid horror, from a face that was no longer a face.