Fate Forged

by B. P. Donigan

  “It’s called a port,” Silas explained. “A short-distance portal to take us up to the surface.”

  The cut on my leg started to throb, and I couldn’t slow the furious beating of my heart. This was my last chance to make a run for it. I glanced behind me toward the portal room. The Fate’s doorway was back there, but it was closed. I didn’t know how to make it work again.

  “It’s completely safe,” he added, misinterpreting my hesitation. “Like a Mundane elevator.”

  I took a deep breath. I was terrified by the Council and more confused than ever about Silas. I didn’t know what I wanted from him. I wasn’t looking for more from anyone. And deciphering his feelings for me made my head spin. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to protect me, have sex with me, or if he just wished I would disappear out of his life altogether. But despite all that, I still believed in his oath to protect me. I could feel the sincerity of that promise embedded in the sigil on my skin.

  I’d run out of time, and I had to face the consequences of my deal. The Fate had failed, and now the Council was the only thing keeping me out of Titus’s hands, unless they decided to kill me themselves.

  I stepped up onto the port.

  We emerged on another platform, and I managed to reorient myself more quickly. The shorter-distance port had less of a kick than the Fate’s portal that had sent us between realms.

  The stone courtyard was a wide, circular space with a confusing meld of classic architecture and technology. Red-stone columns reached into the sky, connecting into arches at their peaks. Between columns, the open-air archways allowed for multiple entry points into the rounded courtyard.

  A cloudless blue sky stretched in the distance, giving me the impression we were high in the air. Floating. Dozens of people milled about the courtyard, and each one glowed with magic. I stared in open fascination at the variety of clothing and features. A few people were dressed like us in jeans, and some others wore jewel-toned saris. One woman wore a long black hijab. With wide eyes, I took in the whole confusing scene. A man close to me was a good foot shorter than an average-sized person and had mottled green skin. An equally short woman walked next to him, and I noticed with alarm that her eyes were bright orange. They both glowed with sky-blue magic, but they were the ones staring openly at us. I couldn’t blame them. We were covered in blood, Silas’s shirt was torn to shreds, and I limped alongside him, reeking of Rakken innards.

  “For fratch sake, they sent an escort,” Silas said with a growl.

  I followed his gaze to the source of his ire. A group of five soldiers in leather armor marched toward us, sending people scooting out of their path. They glowed with bright-red energy. I tensed, recognizing the same color of magic that Titus had, but even from a distance, I could tell it was different in these men. Their power didn’t fade to black at the edges. Pure red, the color of fresh blood, ringed each of the soldiers approaching us.

  The leader of the group stopped before us and executed a formal salute. His head was shaved on each side, sporting a small knot of dark hair on top. “My lord, the Council welcomes you and bids you to attend them at the Centre.”

  “What is your name, Legatis?”

  “First Legatis Landas, my lord”—he dipped his head slightly—“of House Crispin.”

  “First Legatis Landas, I’m honored at this thoughtful reception from the Council.” Silas’s tone scorched the words.

  The Legatis’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “We’ve been ordered to assist you,” he said.

  “I wasn’t aware I needed assistance.”

  The Guardians shifted on their feet, looking anywhere but at us.

  “Where is Commander Corin?” Silas demanded.

  Landas bowed his head again. “The Commander has other matters at hand, my lord.”

  Silas considered him silently for a moment, and Legatis Landas shifted on his heels.

  “Very well,” Silas said slowly, “take us to the Lower City.”

  Landas’s brow scrunched in confusion. “My lord?”

  “My guest will need to use the ports.”

  “Of course, my lord.” Legatis Landas gave me a curious once-over, and I glanced down at my own blood-soaked clothing. At least Silas wasn’t any cleaner. I would have hated to be the only one covered in gore for a meeting with the most powerful magic Council in the whole world.

  Silas offered me his arm, but the gesture didn’t feel gentlemanly as much as possessive. Silas’s demeanor had shifted to formal, clearly placing me under his protection. The gesture made me nervous in more ways than one. Hesitantly, I rested my hand in the crook of his elbow, and his jaw flexed. We started walking, and the soldiers fell into step around us. I was hyperaware of Silas at my side, his hip at my waist, and my hand touching his arm.

  He had insisted there couldn’t be anything “more” between us. A small defensive part of me wanted to tell him that I wasn’t trying to get anything from him, thank you very much. But the other part ached for so much more than a few interrupted kisses. The tension between the warring desires made his nearness even more overwhelming. But he’d made it clear he didn’t want anything more from me, despite what seemed like mutual interest, and I had to respect that. I tried not to touch him more than absolutely necessary, shuffling quickly to keep up with his long, confident strides.

  We walked across the courtyard to a group of sleek silver vehicles hovering two feet off the ground. They were smaller than cars and tapered at both ends. Each one glowed with faint, almost clear energy. One of the guards waved his hand over the center vehicle, and an opening appeared in the side. A rounded bench curved along the walls of the pod, creating padded seats that faced each other. Silas and I sat, and the door closed again, sealing us inside the softly lit gray interior. A softly glowing panel on one wall displayed scrolling information in a language I couldn’t read. We glided forward, but without windows, I had no idea where we were headed.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  Silas’s mouth tightened into a flat line of anger. “I don’t know yet. Being summoned to the Council is not good, though.”

  “Are we, like, under arrest?”

  His brow furrowed. “I don’t know.”

  We descended to a lower surface, and my stomach lurched. When we slowed to a stop, the opening reappeared, and we emerged in a city square nestled between squat stone buildings. With carved red-stone columns, the Grecian-inspired stone architecture seemed similar to the courtyard from above, but older and worn down. And it was crowded. All around us, people jostled each other as they rushed about their business. A buzz of conversation floated in the air. Our group received open stares and some whispers as people noticed us. This time, I heard Silas’s name echo on their lips and started to suspect the talk wasn’t just due to our bloody, torn clothing.

  On the far end of the plaza, a raised platform held fifteen ringed stone ports. Eight of them glowed with colorless energy. The guards escorted us past a line of people waiting to use the ports. Regardless of gender, most were dressed in similar styles of tunics and leggings, sporting shaved heads with long hair on top or draped over one shoulder. Most people had identical markings on their skin. Four rows of parallel lines ran from behind each person’s left ear and twisted into graceful geometric patterns down the side of the neck. The symbols weren’t glowing with power, and I couldn’t tell if they were fashion statements or magic like the sigils on Silas’s skin. I was too afraid to ask Silas with the Guardians so close in case I was the only one who could see the symbols.

  Silas gestured with his chin toward the dark circles embedded in the platform. “Why are some of the ports down?”

  “The Council has rationed all nonessential use of magic during the energy shortage,” Landas said.

  Silas’s eyes narrowed. “Wait here,” he ordered the guards. Without further explanation, he pulled us off course and guided me toward a row of uniform buildings on the side of the square. He moved quickly, forcing me to take two steps for every one
of his.

  We entered a single-room store full of all kinds of weapons. I took it all in with awe, inhaling the rich smell of leather and oiled metal. Velvet-draped display pedestals placed strategically throughout the space featured collections of short swords, daggers, and double-sided knives. They even had a selection of fist knives with T-style handles designed for close combat.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded.

  “We must be quick. The Guardians will soon remember they don’t have to follow my orders.” Silas strode to a tall counter at the back of the store. “Jarvin, where are you?”

  A middle-aged man with a bare, broad chest appeared behind the desk. He glowed with blue energy, highlighting the same geometric symbol on one side of his neck. Shiny black hair fell past his shoulders as he bowed from the waist. “Lord Valeron! It’s an honor to see you again.”

  The Guardians arrived and hovered anxiously outside.

  Silas’s voice lowered to barely a whisper. “Thank the gods you’re here. Find my brother and tell him I have an important guest with me. We’ve been summoned to the Council.”

  Jarvin’s lips thinned as he surveyed me and then the guards outside. “They summoned you, my lord?”

  “Have him meet me at the Centre,” Silas continued. “Inform Commander Corin as well.”

  Legatis Landas entered the store, and his eyes narrowed. Silas scowled at him. If Silas’s instructions to Jarvin were going to stay secret, he needed a cover.

  A thin, short knife on display caught my eye. “I like this one,” I said, pointing to the nearest display case. Designed beautifully and ergonomically, the knife would be good for throwing.

  Jarvin took my cue without pause. He moved out from around the counter. The marking on his neck lit with energy as he waved his palm in front of the case, and the wall of shimmering energy dissipated. He collected the knife and handed it to me with both hands, along with a small bow. “A beautiful knife for a beautiful lady.”

  The blade was expertly cast from black metal. I didn’t have to pretend very hard to admire it even while my mind spun. Even though the Fate had said removing the magic would kill me, the Council wouldn’t hesitate to try. Silas would do his best, but I needed a backup plan, and I needed it quick.

  I handed the knife back to Jarvin. “The workmanship is amazing,” I said sincerely.

  He bowed again, and a pleased grin lit his face.

  Landas stepped forward, making his presence felt. “My lord, we must continue.”

  Silas held out his elbow again, and I looped my arm through his. To Jarvin, he said, “We’ll take it. Detail it as we discussed.”

  “Silas, I don’t have the money for a knife like that!”

  He didn’t even glance at me. “Detail it as we discussed and send it to House Valeron.”

  Jarvin bowed again. “It is an honor to serve House Valeron, my lord. I will see to it personally, exactly as you requested.”

  The guards escorted us out of the store and back to the raised platform. As we walked past the line of people, I heard Silas’s name whispered up and down the line, but he strode stoically ahead, ignoring the stares.

  The Council was waiting.

  Chapter Twelve

  All the guards, along with Silas and me, skimmed to a ring of four ports located just outside the Council Centre. My stomach didn’t revolt over the shorter trip, which meant I’d oriented myself faster than before. The valley below was surrounded by tall rusty-red mountains, penning in a mass of dense urban landscaping.

  Silas had said the portal beneath the center courtyard held the only access point back to Earth, and I had to fight the panic down when I realized how far away it was. Escape was getting harder by the minute. The courtyard floated like a giant disc above a sprawling Lower City, casting its shadow across the entire valley. Delicate walkways stretched from the courtyard like a spiderweb, connecting it to buildings built into the mountain faces. An entire Upper City floated in the sky. On the ground, the Lower City nestled in its shadow.

  Carved directly into the red mountain’s stone face nearest us, one building loomed bigger than the rest—the Council Centre. Large buttresses supported open-air walkways that wrapped around the outside, connecting airy breezeways. Delicate, twisting spires topped golden domes, stretching far into the sky. Wispy clouds surrounded the entire building, giving it the appearance of a floating castle.

  “This is the only access to the Council Centre,” Silas said, pointing to a double-wide set of stairs leading up and into the mountain. “Direct skimming is blocked.”

  The cut on my calf burned as I panted up to the top with our group. After conquering way more stairs than anyone should have to endure, we encountered a long stone hallway stretching in front of us. Guardians lined the walls in black-as-night uniforms, staring at us as we marched deeper into the mountain. Double doors the size of castle gates dominated the end of the long hall. Two men stood outside. One was the size of a professional football player. He had a shaved head and wore the black uniform of the Guardians. I’m sure they were meant to be utilitarian, but the severe tailoring emphasized the massive bulk of the man.

  The second, normal-sized man leaned casually against the wall until he saw us. He was dressed in a sleeveless tunic that fell to his thighs and split at the hip. The cut of the garment accentuated his lean, muscular arms. His long hair was shaved on one side and pulled into a tight bun on top of his head.

  A mischievous sparkle lit his gray eyes as he bent to kiss my hand. “My lady, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  He had to be Silas’s brother. They had the same facial features, but where Silas had dark coloring and was serious to the point of brooding, this man was blond and sported an easy smile. He flashed it at me, showing off a set of perfect white teeth. I got the distinct impression that he would be fun in bed.

  He smirked as if he’d heard my thoughts, and I blushed like a teenage girl.

  Silas was tight-lipped as he introduced us. “This is my bond-brother, Lord Stephan, Prime of House Valeron.”

  Stephan’s eyes flicked to Silas’s bloody shirt. “Have you been having fun without me, brother?”

  “You have enough fun for the both of us,” Silas said with a disapproving frown that only an older brother could pull off.

  Stephan released my hand and winked at me. “He never has any fun.”

  I decided I liked Silas’s brother.

  “Stephan is an Empath,” Silas said.

  Shock hit me. I backtracked through my emotions and blushed bright red.

  Stephan grinned. “Don’t worry, love. Your feelings are safe with me.”

  The other man addressed Silas, his voice a deep baritone. “Should I call a Healer for you, my lord?”

  Silas grasped forearms with the man. “It will keep. Lady Maeve, this is Commander Corin.”

  Corin’s dark, almost true black skin at first masked the fact that his face was covered in tattoos. The designs were complex and almost delicate but not lit with energy like the markings I had seen on Silas’s body. I couldn’t tell until Corin accessed his magic, but I suspected they were actual ink tattoos.

  Corin’s nostrils flared. “Your wound is bleeding.”

  I took an involuntary step back as he bared his teeth. They were human-looking enough, but his expression made me confident that an animal lurked just below Commander Corin’s skin.

  Stephan’s hand landed lightly on my shoulder, and calm filled me. So, the Empath can manipulate my feelings. Just perfect. Silas had said his brother was half Fae, and contrasting with Silas’s golden-yellow aura, the flare of Stephan’s magic was a lovely seafoam green—a stunning mix of blue and yellow. I wondered if a full Fae would project a blue flare.

  Silas growled at Corin. The sound was so animalistic, my attention snapped to him. “I don’t have time for a challenge right now.”

  “Even the Humans won’t fail to notice the blood on your clothing.” Corin jerked his head at one of the Guardians waiting
against the walls, and the man jogged forward.

  His nostrils flared as he stopped in front of Corin and Silas. “Yes, Commander?”

  “Give Lord Valeron your shirt and fetch a Healer.”

  The man didn’t hesitate as he whipped his shirt off, bowed, and retreated out of the room. At the same time, Silas took his own shirt off, revealing three deep gashes curving from his back to his front. I sucked air between my teeth. That had to hurt.

  Corin growled low under his breath, and I could feel it rumbling in my chest. I froze, afraid he would shift into a ravenous animal right in front of us.

  A woman approached in a swirl of blue robes that matched her magic aura. Her no-nonsense expression focused on Silas’s wound. “My lord, you asked for a Healer?”

  The bloody shirt in his hand disintegrated in a flash of magic. He nodded toward me. “The lady has a wound on her right calf.”

  “Jesus, Silas, I’ll be fine. Let her heal you first.”

  He scowled at me as he spoke to the Healer. “Heal her.”

  Stephan and the woman considered me with speculative expressions. The woman’s attention seemed to be on my various possible injuries, but Stephan’s expression was more curious. Despite his friendly demeanor, he had a keen perception behind his gray eyes. He seemed to be considering the implications of my presence in a way that made me nervous.

  “Do I have your consent, my lady?” the Healer asked.

  Nodding at the Healer, I internally cursed Silas’s stubbornness. Sky-blue magic flowed around her, building into a lace-like pattern of intricate magic. She knelt in front of me and ran her hands from my knee down my leg. Her fingers paused, and the wound on my calf warmed under her touch.

  When she finished, I flexed my leg, twisting my ankle in a circle. “Thank you,” I said, sincerely amazed.

  Her eyes widened a fraction, surprising me with what seemed like an edge of panic. “There is no debt,” she said with a quick glance at Silas. “It is my pleasure to serve.” She bowed to Silas. “My lord?”