Red Blood and Black Steel - Jeff Long Chapter 5 Dust swirled across the wasteland, lapping at the scarce tree roots and giving a wide berth to the monstrous boulders that were strewn across the beaten land. Here and there, a blade of grass poked its hand through the dry earth, only to draw back and shrivel up beneath the oppressive sun. Occasionally, a deep rumbling would breach the silent air, turning into a massive, crushing force as a few falling pebbles set off a gigantic avalanche. But soon the dust raised by the tons of falling rock would settle or disperse, and the dying landscape would return to what it once was. His eyes squinting against the setting sun, a man strode resolutely over a pile of broken rocks, caused no doubt, by a recent avalanche. The wind tousled the man's sandy hair, and dust stung at his young yet rugged face. His narrow, blue eyes moved from side to side constantly, ignoring the blowing sand while searching the howling countryside. Not so much as a pebble stirred beneath the man's worn, leather boots, almost as if he walked on a cushion of air half an inch above the ground. Wind whipped around his loose-fitting brown and grey clothing, clothes that would not have been too good for even a country peasant to wear. Vaulting effortlessly over a large boulder that blocked his path, the man landed gracefully on his feet without making a sound. The changes in the terrain didn't seem to affect in the least the man's steady, implacable pace. For a split second, the wind died down. The corner of the man's eye narrowed, and then, casually and with lightning speed, he flung himself to the side just as a blackness streaked by where he had been standing. Skidding to a halt and leaping about with astounding agility, the black form snarled, its twin tails waving menacingly behind it. A pair of tongues darted out of the cat-like creature's mouth as it bared its fangs at the sandy-haired man. The man just stared the creature in the eye, and though he made no move, his stance seemed to taunt the creature into a rage. Eyes red with bloodlust, the cat-like creature sprang again, seeking to tear the pitifully unarmed human apart with its razor-sharp, three-inch claws. Face every bit as calm as it had been before the appearance of the monstrous creature, the man dodged back and forth, the animal's claws coming within half an inch of his skin, yet never touching home. Enraged even more at its elusive prey being so close and yet out of reach, the creature redoubled its efforts, standing up on its hind legs to strike furiously at the human before it. But wherever a claw struck, the man was always just an inch away, dancing gracefully back and forth across the uneven ground. Its tails twitching with impatience, the creature reared back its head, venom dripping from its fangs and hatred blazing in its eyes. Then, with the speed and fluidity of a snake, its jaws thrust forward, reaching eagerly for the man's throat. Instantly, a sword of pure fire appeared in the man's hand and without flinching he thrust it forward right into the path of the creature's approaching maw. Unable to stop its forward motion, the creature suddenly found a stream of burning hot fire piercing through its mouth and into its brain. Once blazing eyes suddenly lost their glimmer and rolled back, as the sleek, lifeless body of the creature fell to the rocky earth, raising a sizeable cloud of dust. No sooner did it fall than the man's fiery blade winked out of existence. Without a second glance at the beaten monstrosity, the man raised his arm to the sky. His eyes fell across the small, red sword etched onto the palm of his hand, and a tight smile crossed the man's face. * * * * * Flinging back her short, blond hair, Serin Swandred casually flipped a page in the massive, leather-bound volume that lay on the reading desk before her. Entitled The History of the Rise and Fall of the Veruvan Empire, the tome held vast amounts of political and military knowledge written in a light and hard to follow spidery hand. To Serin, it was a way to pass the long hours of the day, though admittedly not a very interesting one. But then, the book was far superior to the widely read fairy tale Travels of Cilnrid, or the far too melodramatic Within the Flower's Grasp, yet another mushy romance by the renowned author Frimly Elnova. Such subjects had never interested Serin, and she was totally unable to comprehend how Elnova's writing could be so popular. So she sat there, leafing through the follies of Shenarhaz the Mighty, eigth Emperor of Veruva, while the drizzling rain poured down on the streets outside. Serin was dimly aware of the presence of Delkar Irkada and Gane Yness, seated a few seats down from her in the ancient library. Targaea was one of the few lands with libraries open to the public, and Delkar had insisted that she come see the Library of Targus, the "greatest centre of learning in all the world". Naturally, Delkar had "volunteered" Gane to accompany them. So now, Gane sat staring at an upside-down book as the stubble-faced Delkar tried to explain vainly the fundamentals of reading. Serin privately suspected that it was Delkar's way of getting back at Gane for beating him in all their sparring matches, but she kept such suspicions to herself. "No, Gane, the ‘e' is over here, see?" explained Delkar, gesturing frantically to the page. "And the ‘th' comes before it, making the word ‘the'." Gane looked even more confused than before. "But if the ‘t' is followed by ‘h' and then ‘e', wouldn't that spell ‘tee-hee'?" asked Gane. Delkar simply scratched at his stubble and started explaining all over again. Serin could hardly blame the big man for his lack of knowledge. The majority of people these days were unable to read. For instance, Ortheid Borosso had refused to accompany them to the library, claiming that such giberish and nonsense made his head hurt. Serin had only barely resisted suggesting that it was all the ale that he drank last night that was making his head hurt. According to Abrim Loln, however, things had been quite different in the Veruvan Empire, 600 years ago. If The History of the Rise and Fall of the Veruvan Empire could be trusted, then basic education for children had been compulsory back then. To Serin, the idea sounded quite ridiculous. Governments today were stretched to their financial limits, and she couldn't begin to imagine the costs of free public education. "Excuse me, sir, but might you be a bit quieter?" The voice of the thin-voiced librarian broke through Serin's concentration, as she looked up to see the man staring perturbedly at Delkar and Gane. Gane's look of confusion darkened into a scowl, and Delkar's angular face hardened even further. With a sniff of his nose, the librarian walked softly back to his desk, picked up his wire spectacles, and went back to reading some old, dust-covered tome. Stifling a yawn, Serin picked up her leather-bound book and carried it back to the massive shelves. There had to be something interesting here, the young woman thought to herself. The Library was the largest in the world, with dozens of wooden shelves placed closely together, each packed to the brim was thick books. Strolling distractedly down a narrow aisle, her eye was suddenly drawn to a book in shimmering black binding. Stark red letters were engraved onto the spine of the book, which seemed to radiate a darkness that spread to the air around it. Serin turned her head slightly so as to read the word on the side of the book. Kamine. The young woman quickly drew back at the single word, a shiver running down her spine. Yet before she could walk away, she felt herself leaning closer to the book, reaching for it. The red letters engraved into the spine seemed to raise a dark curiosity in her, and she felt the urge to open the book and find out what mysteries lay within its pages. Just as her skin brushed the black binding of the book, a hand appeared in front of her, holding the book firmly on the shelf. Looking up in startled surprise, Serin saw the owner of the hand, a man with close-cropped blond hair, a well-made blue coat and matching blue leggings. A silver earing dangled from the man's right ear. Smiling at her startled gaze, the man gently pulled her hand away from the book. "I wouldn't touch that, if I were you. They say that nothing good has ever come out of that book." Serin angrily snatched her hand from the man's grip. At Delkar's insistence, she had left her sword back at the inn, but she still had the long dirks strapped to her belt. "Who are you?" she snapped rudely at the handsome man. However, the man's friendly grin only broadened. "Of course, I forgot to introduce myself. I am called Logrim. And what might your name be, fair lady?" Serin sniffed contemptuously. This man was starting to remind her of Kay Reese. Nevertheless, she found herself answering his question. "Serin. Serin Swandred." Logrim swept a low bow, his earing jangling slightly. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Serin," he said smoothly. "I must say, I tend to come to the library quite often, and this is the first time I've seen you here. Is this your first visit to the Great Library?" "Yes," Serin said slowly, "yes it is." Logrim seemed about to reply when the voice of Delkar rose over the quiet of the library once more. Gane's retort quickly followed. Logrim raised a slender eyebrow. "Your friends?" he asked with an inquisitive look. "I suppose you could call them that," Serin sniffed, peering in the direction of the two men. The blond man's eyebrow rose even further. "So you are a Bloodrunner, then? That's no small feat, from what I hear. The Bloodrunner's aren't your ordinary street thugs." Serin nodded, still gazing at the man's smiling face. "So I hear. I'm just new to the group, so I haven't got to really see if they've earned their reputation." Logrim laughed out loud, apparently finding humor in Serin's words where she intended none. Then he straightened, his face somewhat more serious. "Alas, I must be going, I have business elsewhere. It's been a pleasure talking with you, milady." With that, Logrim, smiled broadly once more, and swept off down the aisle. Serin stood there between the many books, apparently in a daze. Her eyes refocusing again only at the sound of the heavy oak doors opening and closing, she furrowed her brow and headed off curiously down the aisle. Logrim. Something struck her as strange about him. For one thing, he was the first man she'd ever met whom she could not decide whether she liked or disliked him. But then, she supposed, she had always been of a suspicious nature. Coming out from the maze of books, Serin headed straight for the librarian's desk, where the thin man was still hunched over, reading a heavy book. Ignoring Gane and Delkar's quiet bickering, she stepped up to the librarian and cleared her throat. Tearing his eyes away from the book, the old man looked up to meet her gaze. "Yes?" he asked in his crackly voice. "What was the last name of that man?" Serin asked curiously. "What man?" "The man in the blue coat who just went out those doors. He comes here quite frequently, so I thought you might know." The old librarian peered at Serin through his thick, wire spectacles in an irritated fashion. "Milady, I have never before seen that man in my entire life."