Two women with golden hair stood at each side of the throne, watching us with disinterest. Both wore sleek black gowns, cut low enough to show off their pale bosoms. One appeared to be around the same age as Phyra and I. The other still held onto her beauty, but time had caused the delicate skin under her eyes and across her forehead to crease a little.
A stifled cry tore me from my miserable thoughts, and Vesirus turned his head to the iron cage hung from the ceiling with chains; Star.
My sister sat on her knees, gripping the bars in a torn, blood-soaked violet gown; her once gorgeous pale locks hacked off right below her ears. Small, scabbed cuts dotted her once smooth cheeks.
The Dark Lord turned his attention back to us, his dark lips twisting up. “I have your queen. Sarantoa is mine.” His scratchy, echoing voice, both whispering and guttural, scraped my nerves and sent horrible shivers of dread through my core. He sounded inhumane… ancient.
“What will you do with her?” I dared ask.
“Keep her alive as long as it amuses me.”
“Kill her. Feed us. Kill her. Feed us,” the demons chanted.
Vesirus silenced them again. “Soon, my creatures. Soon.”
Phyra hadn’t moved a muscle. She stared hard at the younger woman standing beside the throne, as if willing her to read her mind.
“Mintosa!” the Dark Lord called. “Bring forth the gift!”
I shuddered. I didn’t want a gift from him.
A mountain of a man, clad in black iron armour, stepped forward, and bile rose up in my throat. I swallowed it down and met the indigo eyes clouded with death. My father’s decaying head had been thrust onto the spike that Mintosa slammed down before me. The giant man licked his lips. “He refused to surrender, so I claimed his life and then fed his body to the demons. Vesirus ordered me to keep his head for you.”
I ignored Star’s sobs and rose to my feet, pulling Phyra with me. “You know who I am?” I asked Vesirus.
“Of course. I’ve watched this realm since my sister created it for you, her weak, disgusting children. It’s how I knew who to choose as my vessel. King Zaeden was weak. It was so easy to get him to let me in. He believed I’d give his body back as soon as we conquered Sarantoa.” He cackled, a sound like chains dragging against gravel. “I crushed him from the inside out. Once complete darkness has taken this realm, I will be able to exist here without a vessel.”
I soaked in every piece of information he gave me. He still couldn’t remain here without King Zaeden’s body. There was still time.
I plastered a cold smile on my face. “Thank you for killing my father for me. I’m only sorry I missed witnessing the fear in his eyes as he took his last breath.”
He waved Mintosa away with the head. “I thought perhaps some small part of you loved him. Your pleasure disappoints me. I’m sure your friend here will prove to be much more fun.” He set his solid silver sight on Phyra.
I brushed up against her arm to offer her comfort.
“I will burn you, and all of your demons, from this world,” she hissed.
He laughed again. “You humour me.” He turned serious, his sagging features drawing downward, and grasped a forearm in each hand, pulling both of the golden-haired women closer. “I have taken your mother and cousin to be my queens. I don’t need two queens. One of them must die. You choose which.”
The older woman’s lips trembled, her eyes filling with sorrow.
The younger woman didn’t flinch. Her eyes glowed bright like the Dark Lord’s soldiers. Her lips curled up cruelly at the corners as she placed a hand on Vesirus’s shoulder. She did not fear death. If it were up to me, I’d pick her, the woman possessed with a dark spirit.
But Phyra said flatly, “Kill my mother. She should have died long ago.”
My mouth opened and then closed in shock.
“Zephyra, no,” her mother begged, causing some in the crowd to shout cheers and clank their teeth together. They thirsted for death.
Phyra kept her head high and her lids low, refusing to acknowledge the woman beseeching her.
“I’m your mother. You love me,” she cooed.
Vesirus’s head snapped back and forth between the two. When Phyra remained calm, he clasped his hands together. “You do it.”
Her mouth opened as she fixated her emerald eyes on him. “No.”
“If you don’t, I’ll take Adelaide’s life instead.” Her cousin stepped forward and bared her neck, completely under the dark spirit’s spell. She’d gladly give up her body for the god.
Phyra went rigid, her breath catching in her throat. “No. You can’t! Please!”
He beckoned her forward. “Then, you’ll do the honours.”
With a heaving chest, she moved closer to her mother, her head bowed forward. I couldn’t believe it. She was truly about to kill her own mother.
The whole room froze, waiting for a promised death.
“You can’t do this.” Her mother’s tone turned shrill, her eyes wild. It would’ve been much easier to kill the spirit daring her… to set her cousin free.
All emotion left Phyra’s face as she straightened her back. I’d never seen this side of her. I worried what this kill would do to her.
But as her mother said her next words, I understood her choice. “I wish you were never born! Ungrateful bitch!” She lurched forward, nails out, to attack her daughter. She burst into flame before she could touch the fire elemental.
Her howls shook the room, and the demons jumped up and down at the smell of burning flesh.
Phyra watched as the fire engulfed the woman who’d given birth to her. She covered her nose with her forearm and fell to the floor as the wails stopped. The fire went out, leaving behind nothing but a pile of blackened bones and ash.
Vesirus clapped his hands together in a slow applause. “Now that’s entertainment.” He pulled Queen Adelaide into his lap and kissed her as though he’d thirsted for her deeply. She ran her fingers through his thinning hair, returning his endless kiss.
“Let her go.” Phyra’s voice shook with rage.
The Dark Lord pushed the young queen off his lap and called to his guards. “Throw her back in the pit.”
The two soldiers who’d brought us to the Lunar Room pulled her up by the arms, and then one of them made to grab me.
“Not her,” Vesirus said, and I was released. He waved a third guard over, a woman with a scowling, ruddy face and a body made of steel. “Take her to the healer. Have her dress her wounds. I would see her live to watch her world fall apart.” It seemed gods were as egotistical as humans.
The woman bowed and pulled out a dagger. “Come with me, or I’ll give the healer more wounds to dress.”
Phyra went silently from the room, broken.
I let the female guard lead me away, turning my back on my enemy. Temporary… this is only temporary, I told myself.
“Auraliiinaaaa!” My sister howled from her cage. “Don’t leave me.”
I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t let the Dark Lord know she was a weakness for me. He’d use her against me. I told myself she’d be all right. Maybe her death would be a mercy.
Chapter 27
The guard with hair the colour of mud marched me downstairs to the main floor and down the corridor to one of the wings of the palace. I tried not to look while predators watched me as though their dinner was getting away.
We turned a corner and found ourselves alone, the clamour disappearing behind us. I recognized this section of the palace. Some of the more important staff once had chambers here. I remembered the door on the end. I still had the jagged white scar across my knee from the day I’d fallen on a sharp rock and the healer had to clean and stitch it up.
I glanced around, squinting against the torchlight. No other being, living or dead, wandered this part of the palace. I clenched my fingers, twisting away from the guard. My slumbering power woke, stealing the air from her chest.
Her mouth opened in a choke, but she didn’t
claw at her throat for breath. Instead, she rasped, “Kill this poor woman’s body, and I’ll just find another one to possess.”
I considered her words, tilting my head like a bird listening through the wind, and then I told her with brutal honesty, “I don’t care.”
She moved to come at me with the dagger still in her grip, but her body, already weakening, wasn’t quick enough.
I grabbed her wrist and forced the weapon from her hand, holding it on the dull side. Her hand loosened as her knees buckled, her ruddy face turning purple.
“Th—they will come for you.” She forced the last words out before sliding the rest of the way to the floor. She stilled, and the cerulean glow left her eyes.
“Be at peace, soldier,” I said to the body.
I didn’t have time to think of a plan before a dreadful clicking echoed from down the corridor.
I readied my stolen dagger and crouched into an offensive position like Ramiel had taught me.
I wasn’t prepared for the thing that flew through the air and knocked me backward. My blistered back screamed in protest.
Of all the demons I’d laid my eyes upon so far, this one terrified me the most. An insect with a gleaming black body hissed as it opened its pair of pincers above my face.
Fear froze my body, a luxury I didn’t have. I wanted to slip from my skin and escape to a place where the creature made of nightmares couldn’t touch me. This is it, I thought. This is how I die.
As the pincers swiped down to take my head off, instinct kicked in and I drove the dagger upward into its swollen yellow abdomen.
Sticky green juice poured over me. I held my breath against the acrid scent, but it wasn’t enough to stop me from retching.
The insect screeched and scuttled backward, but as I tried to regain my feet, it spun around, whipping me with its thick, barbed tail.
I flew through the air, my teeth clanking together as my jaw smacked against the floor. I lay still. Stunned.
My nightmare honed in on me, its wiry legs scraping against the tile as it slid closer. Death was knocking at its door, but it planned to take me with it.
My side stung where two barbs had dug into flesh. The pain from my burns dulled in contrast.
I pulled myself closer to the healer’s door, leaving behind a trail of thick, green goo.
I walked my fingers along the floor, searching for the dagger I’d dropped. I glanced over my shoulder. Too far. The creature had crawled between me and the blade.
It bent its shiny black legs, readying to pounce.
I couldn’t breathe. My power warmed me from the inside. I poured the rest of my energy into building it. I prepared to throw a blast of wind at my enemy. But before I could release it, the door swung open, revealing a portly older woman in a simple black robe. As fast as her stout legs would carry her, she rushed to help me to my feet and across the threshold.
She slammed the door right before the insect jumped, its hard, shell-like body crashing against the thick oak.
I shrank against the woman with dark blond hair that dangled in waves past her round shoulders.
She reached over and tilted my chin up, staring into my eyes. “You’re a mortal. What were you doing roaming the corridors alone? It’s not safe.” A few of her front teeth were missing, causing her to speak with a slight lisp.
I drew in a shaky breath, trying to calm myself. “I escaped from a guard. Vesirus ordered her to bring me to the healer to have my wounds taken care of.” I groaned, my fingers touching the fresh bloody gashes in my side. “It seems I’ve garnered more.”
The woman helped me to sit down on a bench. “Well, you’ve come to the right chamber. I’m Dagny, the healer.” She soaked a cloth in a small basin and returned to my side. “I don’t know if you’re brave or stupid… probably both, but let’s have a look at you.”
“I don’t recognize you. And I know all of this palace’s healers.”
She raised her shoulders. “I’m a wife and mother, which makes me as good as any healer. Besides, someone needed to do the job. The lass who did it before me ended up in the dungeon.”
I looked into her eyes as she pushed me forward to inspect my back. They were clear and blue. “You’re a mortal too.”
She motioned me to lift my arms and then pulled off my tunic to gain better access to my burns. “Indeed, I am.”
I hissed between my teeth as she pressed the cloth against my damaged skin. She dabbed gently, cleaning the filth and dried blood from the wounds on my back before moving onto the new ones on my side.
“Why has Vesirus allowed some of you freedom, while other mortals are locked away?” I asked, trying to distract myself from my pain, but also wanting to know the answer.
She washed the cloth off, wrung it out, and brought over a jar filled with a thick, milky substance. She unscrewed the lid, dug her fingers into the salve, and then slathered it over my back. The cooling effect instantly seeped into my skin. “He allowed those of us who renounced our faith in Celestia to walk free. Should any show defiance, he promised to lock them away until they became food for his demons.”
I shifted to look at her again. “You’ve abandoned your faith in the goddess?” She’d become a follower of Vesirus? That meant all the humans I’d seen outside of the dungeon had turned to the Dark Lord… damned their spirits to an eternity of darkness. Hilda had turned from Celestia.
Her hand stilled and her blue eyes hardened. “I did. Celestia abandoned us first. Has she come to defend us from her brother? No. He is the one who came to this realm. Perhaps he is the only true god there is. Even if I didn’t believe all that, I would have lied and pledged allegiance to him to save my life and the life of my son. So, don’t think you can shame me, lassie.”
I didn’t say anything until she went back to working on my wounds. “I understand, but what if Celestia hasn’t turned her back on you?”
“Pah! I’ve seen no proof of her existence.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. I couldn’t tell her the truth about the elementals. If she was loyal to Vesirus, I couldn’t trust her. Instead, I said, “I’m not ready to give up my faith yet.”
She closed the jar and clutched it in one hand. “Then you’re lucky he has some other use for you—or maybe not. Whatever he has planned for you is probably worse than death.”
“I don’t doubt you’re right, but at least my spirit won’t be trapped in the darkness when I meet my end.”
She clamped her mouth shut, aware that my words were meant to make her feel bad about her choice. She placed the jar back on a shelf on the far wall and disappeared behind a curtain.
I waited, the salve soaking into my raw skin and soothing it.
Dagny pushed the curtains aside, having found what she was looking for. She held a strap of leather in front of my face. “Bite down. Those two gashes on your side need stitches.”
I swallowed and then accepted the leather into my mouth.
She pulled out a needle and thread and went to work.
I ground my teeth against the strap, crying out through it as the point of steel punctured flesh.
When she finished the first injury, she moved onto the next. Spots floated in my vision, threatening to steal my consciousness. I managed to hold on, afraid of where I’d find myself if I fainted again.
She tied off the last stitch and then dumped a vial of alcohol on it.
My shrieks filled the chamber until the pain subsided enough to allow me to breathe. I spit out the leather strap and the healer handed my ruined tunic back to me. I shrugged the burned material back on, since I had no other option.
I was about to thank her when the door slammed open.
A man hardened by physical work with matted dark blond hair stomped into the chamber.
He pinned me with his glowing eyes. “Foolish woman. All you accomplished was making a mess of the corridor and forcing me to possess another mortal.”
I studied the man who’d lost his body to the dark spirit
and felt pity for him. “Why must you keep invading mortals? Your Dark Lord is here. I’ve seen wraiths roaming the palace.”
He lunged forward, grabbing my wrists and wrapping a chain around them to bind them. “Because we want to live,” he spat.
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” I snarled back.
He yanked on the chain and I lurched to my feet, the freshly stitched wounds on my side screaming in protest.
“Careful with her. This visit will be all for naught if you tear her stitches,” Dagny reprimanded.
He growled at her like a wild beast but allowed me to walk from the chamber at my own pace.
I looked over my shoulder at her and mouthed my thanks as we stepped into the corridor.
Pieces of dead insect scattered the floor like broken glass. Its green blood had dried, hardening on the front of my tunic and turning the materiel stiff. I prayed I’d never run into one of its kind again.
“I rather enjoyed my last vessel,” the dark spirit confessed, leading me down to the dungeon. “I thought I’d try a man this time. You see, I used to be a woman… before I died and went to Mnyama for my crimes against humanity. I find I’m rather disappointed by this body.”
I let him ramble on to the sound of his own voice. I didn’t see the point in indulging him in conversation.
We passed the cages of innocent people begging to be let free or hollering insults at the dark spirit. Some lay with their bony backs to us, not bothering to rise. They’d given up hope, preferring to waste away, surrounded by the smell of piss and body odour, until life relinquished them.
The Elemental Diaries - Complete Series Page 90
