Pulled Away (Twisted Fate, #1.5)

by Sasha Leigh

  It was always there, following her where she moved as though she was in constant need of the warming embers the fires burned to ash. Maybe the subtle glow of the fire and the color of lights were meant to hide the transparency I’d seen of her skin under the sunlight when we met in the forest. The blue veins had stuck out as bright as an oceanic map the last we met, but under this lighting, she almost appeared normal.

  “We need help disguising the Second so he may protect the girl without her being placed in further danger by his presence,” he said, impatient, but not unkind. “He has the power to help.”

  “He cannot interfere,” Lachesis said, shifting sideways in her chair to rest her arm on its back and drum her fingers on the table.

  I glanced at the First and he shook his head, and then we both looked at Lachesis with shared confusion.

  Lachesis sighed. “He is limited by free will, as am I and any other being with powers that govern humans. We cannot interfere without fear of losing our positions and our powers, and He cannot interfere without causing damage to the balance between light and dark. With Darkness growing as the population expands, He will not risk what stands to be lost by becoming directly involved,” she explained.

  “So then cutting her lifeline . . . ?” The First narrowed his eyes.

  “Wasn’t a mistake. Placing Alyssa Frank on Death’s list was the only way to ensure her experience without direct involvement by either restricted party—a calculated risk. Asking you for aid was permitted, but only if a mistake was made, just as if you had made an error, you could ask for our help and no restrictions would have been breached. She would be dead now otherwise.” She looked at me, holding my gaze. “If not for our mistake, Alyssa Frank would already be dead.”

  “Then how do we protect her?” I asked.

  My head was spinning and I couldn’t decide how I felt over what Atropos had done, but for Alyssa’s sake, it wasn’t going to be a topic during this discussion. There was no time. Even if we turned back the hours once a solution was found, if Alyssa made Death’s list again, there would be no escape, and I was out of exchanges. She could die and we could bring her back, but without a substitute, she’d keep dying until the ability to alter time came to an end.

  “There is one other who can help, I believe, but the path to find her is . . . difficult.”

  “How?” the First asked, though I could see the struggle to set his concern for Him aside.

  “Through the Void,” she said.

  I blinked, not understanding. “So if it’s in the Void, make a portal.”

  “I cannot form a portal to take us to where we can find solutions. Oh, I can get us close, but the home we need to seek is under its own protection. Strong protection. It is a barrier I’m afraid I cannot penetrate, even with the help of my sisters.”

  “Who do you seek?”

  The First narrowed his eyes with suspicion, an action born from his long-standing duty judging souls wanting to enter the Celestial Realm. The truth behind a person’s intent was rarely provided freely, and often it was necessary to read between what you imagine could be said and what had already been discovered. Talk to someone about something you know and take note of what was omitted. From there, you may deduce what type of information might be excluded in related matters. All you have to do is listen.

  “Renalda.”

  The First slapped his hand on the table, and his face pinked before deepening to red. His eyes flashed like the Glory of his soul lit a fire from within, aimed at Lachesis. “You cannot be serious!”

  I looked between them, Lachesis defensive and the First dismayed. “Who’s Renalda?” I asked.

  They both looked to me and stared.

  After a minute, the First scowled at Lachesis once more and turned to me, clearing his throat. “Renalda . . . is a witch.” To Lachesis, he added, “They can’t be trusted.”

  “Can she really help?” I asked Lachesis, waiting for her to nod before turning to the First. “It is more important right now to get assistance than to fall back into beliefs created within us. We need help. How far behind Darkness do you think we are? It’s relentless, which means we cannot delay our protection, and not pursuing this? That is a delay.”

  “Fine,” he said, still reluctant, but compliant. The muscle in his jaw ticked, though his voice remained calm. “We can go find Renalda, but if she tries to trick us—”

  “—I’ll help you exact justice,” I finished, smiling.

  Lachesis nodded and pushed herself up from the table. “I must prepare. We will leave in three hours.”

  “You are coming with us?” the First asked, just as surprised as me.

  She nodded. “Yes. Not only am I more experienced in the Void, but I can’t very well leave two angels to greet a witch amicably enough to obtain the help we seek,” she said.

  “What about your duties?” I asked with a glance to the back room. “Don’t you need to attend to them?”

  “I will spend the next three hours devoted to the mortal lifelines.” She sighed. “I will be relieved of duty during the time we are gone.”

  I almost laughed. “You found a replacement for Fate?”

  “Not exactly.” Once again she sighed and I saw the resignation within the action. Taking a deep breath, she said, “My mother will be visiting during my absence.”

  Of course. I’d forgotten about the Gods who had been humanized. Mortal yet immortal upon human soil, cast out by the Creator for declaring their power absolute. Fate was all that remained of what had been, and only because of its necessity to mortals. The Sisters’ parents could have stayed if the Sisters had gone, but, not wanting their daughters to suffer, they left, transferring their authority to their daughters for eternal rule. Asking for help must not have been easy.

  But for some reason, Lachesis appeared relieved at not having to be here during her mother’s visit—I couldn’t tell which of them that reflected badly upon.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  As though it had been timed on a stopwatch, Lachesis reappeared exactly three hours later, ready for travel. I felt unprepared, the only one of us who hadn’t traipsed through the Void before. What did one bring to walk through Darkness? A flashlight? Night vision goggles?

  It was far from logical, but suddenly I wanted a pet dog to guide me with its superior eyesight.

  “Do not, under any circumstance, shine light within the Void,” Lachesis warned when I voiced my suggestion. “No light ever, especially not the light of your Glory. If you use it, you will be spit out without pause through whichever doorway leads into the world you are nearest to. Most are not friendly and you will be stuck there. Once the Void ejects you, it will reject any attempt at further entry.”

  “Then how will we see where to go?” I asked, not caring how irritating my questions were received. I was an angel, not a vampire. We didn’t come equipped with innate night vision to guide our path in darkness. Considering what burned within us, finding alternate sources of light was a redundant strategy.

  “You stick with me,” she said, “and I will guide us.”

  “Don’t worry, Brother,” the First said. “It’s more like dusk or the light of a new moon than complete blackness in the Void.”

  I looked to the First and then Lachesis. “Don’t you want to stay to greet your mother?”

  She laughed without humour and shook her head, sobering. “No. I’d like to be gone before Atropos and Clotho return from fetching her, so if you don’t mind . . . ?”

  We followed her to the golden front door depicting the same symbols as the door at the rear of the room. The Void and all of its darkness lay on the other side, and the answers and solutions for being able to protect Alyssa were waiting for me to find. My heart, my soul, my very existence inside my dimming light waited for me to salvage its broken pieces. All I had to do was step into that which I couldn’t see.

  “Remember, no lights,” Lachesis warned, and then opened the door.

  Her mouth parted to speak ag
ain, but I heard nothing as I hurried by, the first to take the plunge.

  ***

  Entering the Void made me feel as though I was freefalling sideways. There was no visible trail, but the First had been right to say it wasn’t a complete darkness like it appeared when I’d glimpsed it before. Just shadows. Still, if Lachesis hadn’t thought to warn us, I would have used my soul to light my way.

  How did Lachesis know where we needed to go?

  I almost brushed aside her hand as she reached for mine, not realizing until Lachesis’s red-painted claws dug into my flesh and drew blood that it wasn’t just another shadow trying to kiss my skin. I bit back my pain as she withdrew her nails to tangle my fingers with her own. Beside her I could see the faint outline of the First, their hands clasped together.

  We paused when Lachesis squeezed, hesitating just long enough to feel vertical again before moving forward, slightly to the right. I hope she knows where she is going. At least with her at our side I knew it wasn’t a trick played to cause us harm.

  I braced against a sudden gust of wind, but our steps didn’t falter. At the smallest hesitation, Lachesis dug her claws in to move us forwards. Squeezing my eyes tight, I pinched my mouth, halting my breathing so that I couldn’t inhale the desert storm of shadows assaulting us from every side. No light meant no warmth, and for the first time, the cold that couldn’t affect my kind pierced through my skin to saturate my bones like a sponge soaking up water.

  The wind picked up speed, and objects of foreign origin, too obstructed by the cloak of the Void’s darkness to make out, whipped against us. Cuts and bruises were sure to follow, but the pain of occurrence was absent. Once we made it out, the wounds would heal, but being so vulnerable was unsettling. If the darkness inside the Void were the same as what we feared in the Mortal Realm, our blood would be a feeding trough, but that would never happen—even Darkness couldn’t survive the Void.

  Confusion, like a grainy fog, filled my head and blurred what little vision I maintained. The air grew thick, like we were climbing through sludge, surrounding us on all sides and over our heads. If I had the need to breathe, I’d be dead.

  An hour of mud. An hour of blood and pain and suffocation. One hour of confusion and not knowing if we were heading in the right direction. Lachesis pressed us through the dark, and after the second longest hour of my existence, I was free.

  It was like someone had taken a knife and pulled us from a jelly-filled cocoon. The moment we escaped, the slash closed and withered to a pin-prick within the air before disappearing for good, and I hoped to never find it again.

  I gulped a mouthful of air and realized our new surroundings were even less fresh than the Void. A wasteland of filth, an old run-down structure at its core, comprised completely of bones. Humans, animals . . . creatures unknown. My stomach twisted at the sight, the stench of rot and burning flesh corroding my thoughts to despair as fully as the piles of burnt ash where sickly yellow-green smoke rose to fill the air under the grey sky blackened by clouds, low-hanging and ominous.

  A rumble sounded, and thunder clapped so loud I felt its pulse beneath the soles of my feet.

  “Where are we?” I wheezed, pulling myself to my knees. I looked to my right in search of Lachesis and the First, and found him still on his knees, gasping for air.

  Why was he trying to breathe?

  I stepped towards him and was halted by a fist to the side of my head from the left, knocking stars into my vision.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “What the—” I reached up with my hand to rub the spot Lachesis smacked, thankful she’d retracted her claws. At least she didn’t draw blood again.

  “You stupid boy,” she said, seething. Her eyes narrowed and her fists clenched at her sides as she stalked forward, and I retreated.

  I looked up and met her gaze, anger to confusion. It seemed like she hit me with the purpose of gaining my attention so she could throttle me to death while I was aware. Otherwise, she looked fine. Not a scratch or windblown strand of hair out of position.

  “What were you thinking?” She slapped my arm when we reached the First and I was forced to stop or step on him in order to pass.

  I blinked. “I’m sorry? What did I do?”

  “You went into the Void!”

  She raised her hand again and I lunged to the left, barely getting out of the way in time to avoid her abuse. Her advance resumed. I raised my hands in front of me, defensive.

  “Uh, yeah?” Was she dense? “That was the plan, wasn’t it?”

  “You went into the Void without listening to the rules!”

  “You said no light,” I said. Why was she angry?

  “No light. No separation. No breathing in the darkness!” She threw her hands up in the air. “You jumped in without a single thought to the consequence and only by chance did I find you!”

  “You didn’t say—”

  A moan filled the air and cut through my words. I pivoted on my heel to face the First, and time paused. He groaned, a guttural sound of agony, and tried to stand, pushing up with his hands for leverage from the ground. Halfway up, he fell to his side, and then rolled onto his back.

  The whimpers stopped and he didn’t move.

  With wide eyes, I jerked my head to look at Lachesis, and felt my stomach drop from my body like a bungee jumper flying off a bridge. Just before it met the ground, it bounced back up, then down, and then up . . . fast and then slow. Finally, it stopped, and I took a sharp, deep breath, and exhaled.

  Lachesis slapped my chest with the flat of her palm and pushed me from blocking her way. She cast a final look of dark contempt at me and said, “You stupide, ignorant boy.”

  How was this my fault?

  Did she just call me a boy?

  Quelling the need to demand an explanation, I followed Lachesis to the First’s side, stomping with every step. The First’s eyes were glazed and cast upwards, unblinking and open as though seeking guidance from above. But He wasn’t there to receive the plea, and there would be no saving.

  “This is not good,” Lachesis said, her tongue clucking against the roof of her mouth as she lowered herself to his side. “This is not good at all.”

  “Is he . . . He can’t be . . . Can he?”

  “Dead? No. Sick? Yes.” She looked to me and glowered beneath heavy lids. “He inhaled some of the darkness in the Void because you didn’t wait for me to explain.”

  “He’s been in the Void before,” I said, trying to ease my guilt. “He must know the rules already.”

  “Perhaps he’s been through the regular passages, but he’s never had to tunnel through a protective barrier. When I foresaw his visit, I lowered ours so that his journey would be successful.” She reached forward to close the First’s eyes, and then began to pick up handful after handful of soil comprised of moulding ash to rub into his paling skin.

  “What are you doing?” I asked after a minute, following her movements with my eyes.

  “Do you know what the Void is?” Lachesis remained focused on the First, asking the question without bothering to glance up.

  Crouching down, I began to help when she motioned for assistance. I didn’t know what we were doing, but didn’t question the reason. With all that had come to pass, I didn’t doubt her devotion to the cause, and not helping the First would contradict every action she’d made. I rubbed fast and hard as I mimicked her frenzied efforts.

  “The Void is what separates all the worlds,” I said as we continued to treat his skin.

  “The Void is Darkness, Brother. It is the most sinister of all the Darkness, yet completely detached from that which you know. Instead of focusing on light, it devours everything.”

  “That’s not possible. Darkness has rules.”

  “Yes, though we’ve never found its epicenter,” she agreed. “The Void is what came before Darkness landed. It predates all of the worlds and all of creation. It is His mistake, an experiment in his attempt to create. His plan was flawed. The contempt
and desolation He felt at not succeeding transferred to His creation until nothing but anger and pain were brewed.”

  She began to laugh as she reached the First’s face. It lasted a moment and then her voice grew serious, her expression grave as she said, “He didn’t know of love or Glory until it was too late. The composition of the Void taught him all of that as it began to devour what he cherished. Out of His love to protect what He held dear, He created the worlds inhabited today, and then their occupants, promising each that they could have their own rules so long as they helped to quarantine the Darkness before it destroyed everything.

  “Each world specialized in specific powers—handling elements, manipulating time and space, spell casting, precognition of future events, and displacing energies. Basically, all the abilities of the universe. Combined, the Void was captured and sealed between the doorways into their worlds like a clearing at the center of a forest.”

  “Wait. Why don’t we know this? We came first.”

  “You were before the humans and Earth, yes. But the worlds around here were before you,” she said. “Lucifer knew. It’s why he crumbled to shadow. He knew to fill his heart with hate would touch the world with its rage. But this? It happened before Creation, though the worlds fought with one another so much and with such intensity, their disputes threatened to crumble the Void’s prison.” She shrugged. “He created your kind, but realized another solution must be found. He needed your adoration to fuel his power and could not risk dividing that attention, so he created Olympus and the Gods that lived there.”

  “To control the fighting?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know why the others were created, but Fate had its purpose. I suppose we all had a purpose once His attention was too focused on mortals to care about the storms and oceans and land. Even marriage, love, craftsmanship, and the rest of what fell under the Olympians’ domain to rule was neglected as He continued to try and make the perfect human specimen. His failures are all the psychopaths and criminally or mentally unstable forms. This is why your kind oversees mortals, the way they live and overall quality of life, while we handle the length.”