Waylon's Crossing - 18. Chapter 18: A Prince’s Anger

Waylon's Crossing
Chapter 18: A Prince’s Anger

Alan fell hard, legs pulled suddenly out from under him. Instinctively, he ducked as something flew over his head, and then jumped back to his feet to press his hands against a solid wall. Staring around, he saw only Kynan; no elemental, no Jacen, and no Bryce.

"No!" he gasped.

The door crashed open, and Alan pressed his back to the stone, knees shaking in sudden fear. A gigantic demon stood in the doorway. Her hooves were bigger than dinner plates, horns as long as Alan's forearms curled upward from her head, and her red eyes gleamed, mouth open in an enraged glower.

Kynan was on his feet at once, injuries forgotten. He rounded on the black demon and the goblins behind her, snarling a warning. The roar pushed outward like a tangible thing, the monster inside fully unleashed. He could almost believe that a shadow of something else enfolded him entirely, wings flapping at his back, a shadow of a presence not unlike some nightmares he'd worn on the dreamscape.

The demon female screamed in pure terror and dropped her force rod, scrambling to get away. The goblins gibbered in fear, frozen in place, and a low voice by the door actually chuckled.

"I knew there was more to you than met the eye," said the Prince with a calm that made the anger in his tone even more venomous. His eyes flicked to the slight form hidden behind Kynan, and he didn't miss the significance. "So," Xeran growled in a strange combination of fury and disgust, "it takes a damn, filthy dog to tame another dog, is that how it is?" He slid his force rod out of its sheath and, ignoring the goblins now dead of fright, stepped forward. He slapped his palm with the rod.

Kynan snarled again in anger, keeping Alan sheltered in his imaginary wings. He focused all his rage, his fear, his hatred, on the approaching demon, not knowing how he was doing what he was doing, but, if this worked anything at all like the dreamscape, then if he could just focus enough emotions at the demon, then he could overpower him. Stealing the fear from the goblins fed him just enough to bolster the weak reserves he'd managed to build back up.

Alan pushed against Kynan, tentative at first, and then harder as the man didn't budge even an inch. He couldn't fight from back there, and he desperately wanted to be by his friend's side, to help, not be pinned back here by something he couldn't see or smell, only feel. He didn't understand what was going on, but he could tell from the way Kynan's muscles shivered that he was using strength he really didn't have. Alan couldn't even see what was going on, which only made things worse.

The Prince focused all his attention on the blonde man who had leaped to his feet in what had to be one of the most impressive displays of strength the demon had ever seen. Furious did not even begin to describe the vicious expression on Kynan's face. The spitting devil on the other side of the illusion was like an avenging angel. If this was what his guards had encountered in the ambush, then Xeran was surprised he hadn't lost more. Every muscle, every facial tick, every contained but threatening gesture proclaimed 'Hunter!' For the first time, the Prince saw what Karadur must have seen and anger surged through the demon again in envy. He wanted that body, that guard dog posture as protection for himself, not some filthy cur that claimed to have demon blood from some pathetic experiment centuries ago!

He rocked back on his heels and waited, smiling calmly until the demonic apparition in front of him wavered. In a bound, he closed the distance, bringing the force rod down with a solid TWACK! along Kynan's collar. The halfling crumbled silently, the image vanishing.

Alan staggered a little as the force holding him captive suddenly disappeared. He immediately leaped over Kynan's still form, an attack that ended as quickly as it started once the Prince started laying into him with the rod. He screamed, cowering.

"No!" Hearing Alan scream was a sound that pierced Kynan straight through his heart and ripped a plea he'd never thought he'd ever voice: "Please!"

Xeran paused mid-swing, to look over at his captive. Kynan lay mostly on his side, arm outstretched, and face pale and stricken. The Prince had never heard that particular note in his prisoner, he was always so restrained and damned defiant, even under torture. His mind leaped to a sudden, startling conclusion and he grabbed the werewolf by his collar, holding him to the ground. His eyes never left Kynan's.

"Beg for me, my sweet," he commanded. "Let me hear that sexy voice of yours. Tell me what you want."

Kynan stared back for a second. Oh, shit, what have I done? But when the Prince raised the rod again, words just poured out of Kynan's mouth. "Don't! Don't hurt him, please! Please don't hurt him!"

"Not good enough!" snarled the Prince, laying another blister upon Alan's back, hidden under his clothes.

"No!" cried Kynan as Alan screamed again.

"Louder. I can't hear you."

"Damn you! Fucking bastard!" howled Kynan. "Leave him alone! Don't touch him! Don't you dare touch him!" He screamed hoarsely, scrabbling on the ground, but he couldn't force his abused body to drag him any closer. "You fucking hurt him anymore, I'll kill you! Damn you to the darkest pits of hell you fucker!" He kept cursing until he ran out of breath, head spinning, and chest heaving from the effort.

Instead of making him angry, the threats only made the Prince laugh. He tilted his head back and rumbled out his amusement as Kynan blathered on. This was even more enjoyable than he'd anticipated, getting such a rise out of his prisoner.

"Bring me a wolf-trap!" he commanded, shouting over his shoulder at his personal guards still peering in from the hallway. He'd punish them for their cowardice later. Dropping the werewolf, he stepped toward Kynan and hefted the halfling by his hair, smirking at the fury contorting his face. At last! Everyone had a trigger point, and he'd just found Kynan's. He glanced over his shoulder at the werewolf.

"You. Boy!" he snapped. "Sit there." He brought the force rod down with a resounding smack, drawing a mangled shriek from the halfling. The werewolf's stubborn expression altered suddenly to a fearful one.

"Well, well," murmured the Prince, running his hand through Kynan's hair, his eyes never leaving this new, unexpected addition to his plans. He smiled again as the werewolf scowled and his body language screamed out in frustrated possessiveness. "You better tell your lover to behave," hissed the Prince into Kynan's ear, jerking him around by the hair again just to watch the werewolf's reactions. The halfling's words surprised the demon prince anew.

"Don't hurt him," Kynan begged quietly. "Please. I'll ... I'll do anything you ask, but please ... don't hurt him."

The Prince rolled him over and straddled him, lifting Kynan by a hand on his jaw to stare at his face. The halfling whimpered, moisture leaking out of his eyes. "Look at me, damn you!" snarled the Prince. He lifted the rod as his own eyes caught a flash of movement. "I don't suggest it," he told the werewolf, who froze at that gesture. "Unless you'd like to see your lover bludgeoned to within an inch of his life." He prodded Kynan, making the halfling cry out, enjoying the sounds; he had never been this vocal before. "You better tell him, hadn't you, Little One?" He leered again at the werewolf's frustration.

"We're not lovers!" croaked Kynan.

Xeran smiled. His eyes were cold and calculating. How had this piece of trash managed to keep the halfling's attention, especially with himself present as a distraction? How could Kynan refuse him and yet grant this tiny ... his mind suddenly skipped a beat, showing him clearly the nightmare apparition that Kynan had summoned a few minutes ago. The force of the halfling's mind alone had killed his servants and sent trained bodyguards scrambling for their lives. Pure emotion, wielded unskillfully, but powerfully.

He looked down at Kynan and studied him anew. Even beaten, the halfling was still beautiful ... angelically beautiful -- No! Impossible! And yet, the other day, he'd sworn that no one had been in the room with him, but the smell of sex had been so strong....

Xeran leaped to his feet and attacked the werewolf, barely keeping his own murderous rage in check. Then he returned to Kynan.

"So!" he breathed. "That's your filthy little secret, is it? How is this even possible? Fuck and shit and damn you to hell! You venture into the Dreamworld again, Kynan, and I'll kill him. You fucking know I will, don't you? Don't you!"

"Y-yes!" sobbed Kynan, curling on his side in an effort to find a position that did not hurt.

The Prince kicked him anyway. "I cannot believe I didn't think of this before! It makes so damned much sense! No wonder my sister keeps you around! And you! Refusing me! Me! I'll teach you respect, you foul, detestable pile of shit! Fuck you!" He used the rod on Kynan again, each blow hazy in his anger and his ears deaf to the gasped screams, sobs, and protests.

"I should fucking kill you!" he shouted. Pausing for a moment, Xeran smiled as his mind spit out a solution. His eyes slid over to the horrified werewolf. "No. I have a better idea."

*          *          *

The hours dragged by for Alan, keeping a worried eye on Kynan. The demon shivered, but his body blazed with a dry heat. Alan kept a rag handy to wet his brow, cooling the hot skin, biding his time by soaking the blood out of Kynan's hair and cautiously bathing what skin he could reach. He vomited again and again, as his stomach expressed its unhappiness with the pervading odor of sickness and blood.

"Kynan?" he asked, worried that the fever he'd initially noticed was not cooling. "Kynan, you're burning up, talk to me!"

Deposited back on his bed of rags, Kynan lay on his stomach, his left cheek exposed, lumpy-looking and an awkward shade of purple. His labored breath rattled in his lungs, each one slow and unsteady. Several times, he'd paused long enough that Alan feared he'd breathed his last.

Alan called him again, and even tapped Kynan carefully, mindful of the raised skin and bruises. From the way that Kynan's cheek and jaw had swollen, Alan thought there might be something broken. He'd certainly been in enough fistfights as a kid to know that bruising of that shade and shape was not good.

Kynan struggled out of the dark that kept trying to suck him down. "A-Alan?"

"Right here, Kynan, I'm right here. I ... I don't know what to do!" He bit his lip, closing his eyes to concentrate on his own breathing. He caressed the back of Kynan's hand, reminding himself why he needed to stay calm. Bryce and Aure, and Jacen, knew where they were. They'd be back. Wouldn't they?

"C-c-cold," said Kynan through chattering teeth. He was hungry, and so tired, and the shivering made him ache. His well-trained mind brought him quickly to the only logical conclusion. "Oh, d-damn, Alan, sh-sh-shock, m-must be." He was going to weep again, could feel the hopelessness welling up in his chest. He was never going to get out of here, and now Alan would die as well.

Alan wet a new cloth to drag over Kynan's face. "You've got a fever, too," he said. "What do I do?" He wanted Kynan strong enough to tell him what to do, he wanted Kynan to be well, and he wanted none of this to have ever happened.

Kynan's brow puckered some in worry, that minor discomfort going unnoticed. He didn't get sick. Shouldn't be fevered, he should be healing, no time for ... "Inf-fection, prob'ly. Need to st-stay warm."

Jumping up, Alan ripped the blanket off the bed to wrap around his friend.

He sat at his side, washing him and watching him with mounting concern. Sometimes he could force a bite or two of food into Kynan, and sometimes they spoke, but it wasn't enough. Kynan went from normal to panic to almost maniacal giggling to deep self-pity to asleep and back again randomly, without any warning whatsoever.

The cell itself was not that cold, but Alan pulled the remaining blankets off the bed anyway, wrapping himself up next to Kynan, who seemed to sleep easier with Alan close by.

"If I was smart," said Kynan at one point. "If I could move ... I should k-kill you. It's the only way to protect what I know ... But ... I can't ... I can't! And now ..."

"Kill me ...?" gasped Alan, hands mindlessly wringing out the rag he was in the process of returning to Kynan's head.

Kynan closed his eerie, blue eyes, sighing deeply. "Don't you see? He'll use you t-to ... he can get anything he wants from me, now ... Fuck, this is all my fault!"

"Ky ... Kynan, I --" Alan dropped the rag back into the bucket and brushed at the tears on the halfling's cheek. "No, it's not you, Kynan, I'm the idiot. I -- I should have listened to you."

"I'm so tired," Kynan murmured. "I'm sorry, Alan. I can't protect you." He was going to wind up watching Alan tortured and eventually killed, and there would be nothing he could do to stop it. Xeran would relish the deed, once he'd forced Kynan to confess everything he knew.

"That may be true," Alan remarked, no less worried, but not ready to give in to despair. "But Kynan? I would rather be here with you in danger than sitting alone somewhere perfectly safe."

Kynan sighed, cracking an eye open to scowl half-heartedly. "Crazy wolf."

He ignored that. "What are we gonna do, Kynan?"

"You're the smart one," he replied, the slightest hint of a smile on his lips. "I was hoping you'd figure that out." Let the werewolf keep hoping. He'd be happier that way. "Try to get some sleep. You need to rest, too."

Alan nodded as Kynan drifted off again, but he was wound up too tightly to even think about sleep. He wasn't tired; he was exhausted. Alan and the others had been traveling for an untold number of days, but no matter how gritty and heavy his eyes grew, every little noise startled the werewolf alert again, especially Kynan's painful gasps as he drifted between consciousness and slumber.

Stress and dismal thoughts had Alan wiping his own tears from time to time. "Oh, Kynan," he sighed, brushing the mop of blonde hair off the halfling's face. "I feel so useless ... and guilty, too. I'm so sorry."