War of Fangs (The Unseen Book 1)
Page 22
“I never recovered. To this day, I mourn my lost family. I only hope to live long enough to go to Earth and find my descendants, to see if any history of my line has survived.”
“I don't know who my ancestors are, Boudicca. If your line isn't found, I would be honored to call you family,” I said. My heart was heavy from her story. She fought my fight, and she lost. She fought, a thousand years before, to keep her family. In order to save her family, she gave up her fight and let them go. I wanted to hug her, but I didn’t know their customs. Hugs might be taboo to the Sárkány.
“Thank you, young one. We’re family, whether you are of my line or not. The last piece of advice I have for you is this: the creatures that hunted me were on the Earth long before we were. They claimed that the Earth was their home and that they were born there. The Sárkány never believed that, as the Earth is a world without magic. The only magic we ever found on the planet was that which was brought from other worlds. By the time I left, most of the other species had gone to their homes. If any were left on Earth, they were hiding and once I left, they wouldn't have had any way home.”
“I met one, Boudicca,” I said. “Her name is Mama Pacha and she’s of the Supay.” I said, not sure if Boudicca would know anything about the other Unseen on Earth.
“I knew Supay,” she said. The rest of the room remained quiet, eyes darting between me and Boudicca. “We met at a gathering to debate the wisdom of returning to our homes. He was full of himself, that one. He relished his god status and didn't want to give it up. I wonder if he made it home.”
“I believe he did,” I said. “Mama Pacha seems to be the last of her kind on Earth, and she’s in her homeland. I’m so sorry, but if there's nothing else you can think of to prepare us, I insist that we go. I have no idea what my husbands encountered when they went to the land of the Supay and I want to get that portal open for them to be able to return.” Axoular stood and bowed again.
“Do we have your leave?” His tone was kind.
Morcan and Boudicca glanced at each other before Morcan replied. “You may go, Axoular. Be safe and be wary. It will be a dangerous place for you, for we don't know if anyone is watching for our return.”
“One last thing,” I said. “Who were the creatures that were after you?”
“They were shapeshifters, skinwalkers. Many names have followed them throughout the centuries, but they called themselves the Humbaba.” Boudicca stood and walked over to us. “Be careful. They can take any form.”
I’d never heard Michael, Anthony, or Elias mention shapeshifters. Humbaba was a character in The Epic of Gilgamesh though, I was sure of that. I wondered if they stole the name from the book or if the book was calling them out?
We were finally allowed to leave the room. I opened the door to a cacophony of sound. The crowd had grown larger while we talked. They’d managed to stay quiet during our debate, but couldn't contain their excitement when I came out.
Euphoria washed over me, and I knew I was picking up their emotions. Inside, when tempers were rising and everyone was upset, it caused a physical reaction in me. I was uplifted in response to the exuberant crowd. I raised my hands, asking for silence.
“People of Sárkány, I hear your hope. I will find a way to help you. I understand your food is almost gone, and your lives have been sparse. I can’t promise to be some superhero, swooping in to save everyone. I promise you, though, with my last breath, I will try everything in my power to help you. You won’t be forgotten or lost. I must return home, but Axoular is going with me. We’re going to settle my affairs and begin a search for a solution for you.”
I started down the stairs and they parted in front of me like Moses parting the sea. I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by their expectant faces. Soft palms and fingers darted out to touch my clothes and skin. A few times, the rough touch of knuckles brushed my arms. I only saw a few disapproving faces and vowed to eventually speak to those that disapproved of me. I wanted to know why.
My tired legs burned as we climbed up the hills toward the cave. I felt a little hitch in my lower back, indicating I was pushing myself too hard. Since I’d left the hostel that morning, I’d trekked across the Isla Del Sol, traveled to another world, hiked down a mountain, and was beginning to head back up. I was terrified, worried about Elias and Anthony and where they’d gone, heartbroken over Boudicca’s story and the fate of the Sárkány, and I still missed my children.
I stopped and turned as we passed through the entrance to the village and looked down over the buildings. I’d been there only a couple of hours, but was reluctant to leave. Those poor creatures needed someone to save them. More than likely, nothing in this world could be salvaged. Their world was built to house thousands of Sárkány. With only a couple of hundred left, there was no one to maintain the greenhouses that fed the livestock, that in turn fed the Sárkány. The world itself was hot and barren, with little to no natural sustenance.
Axoular said they’d searched the world over for more Sárkány that might be hanging on somewhere, and they were here now. I knew I would have to find a way to bring them to Earth, there was nothing else to do. How we would manage that, I didn’t know.
A small group of Sárkány followed us to the caves. They vowed to keep vigil beside the portal until we returned. I didn’t like the thought of them sitting in that dank cave, but they insisted. They asked me many questions about my homeland as we walked up the hills. I was moving at a snail’s pace, exhausted, but I answered as much as I could. They were most interested in rain and water. They dug deep wells to find water, and then they used it sparingly.
We reached the cave and Axoular drew out a knife. I turned to the four remaining Sárkány. “Whatever you do, don't follow us. We may end up leaving the portal site immediately after entering my world, and we wouldn't want you to come through without me there to guide you and help you. Stay in this world until we return, please.” Four heads nodded their consent, and I walked over to Axoular and the portal.
“Are you ready?”
Axoular nodded his head. “I'm ready to save my people.” I drew in a deep breath and cut my finger again. I dabbed a bit of blood on the same stone that we used on the Earth side of the portal. It again took a few seconds, but soon the stones were glowing red. When we’d come to Galdiart, I’d felt dry heat and excessive wind. As the stones glowed brighter, a gentle, chilly breeze teased my cheeks. I could smell the fresh, clean scent that came right after a misty rain. My emotions calmed, it smelled like home and family. If I didn’t know I was travelling to an island in Bolivia, I would think I was going to walk straight into the Appalachian mountains on a cool spring morning.
I smiled one last time at my new friends, and stepped over onto the invisible floor of the portal. My body became weightless again, but I didn’t feel fear. I opened my eyes to the stone walls of the Inca ruin.
Chapter 18
I stepped over the sides of the ancient well, and was immediately grabbed from behind. My training kicked in, and I reached over my shoulder and grabbed my attacker by the ears, flipping him over me and onto the hard stone floor. As his body flew over me, I realized it was Michael. In the split second he was in the air, I wondered why, with his Supay reflexes, he didn’t stop me from flipping him.
As soon as he landed, I was beside him. “Oh my god, Michael, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”
He coughed and laughed at the same time. “I’m fine, Baby.” He spotted something behind me and jumped up. “Get behind me, Riley, hurry!”
Axoular was appearing in the well. “Michael, it’s okay! I brought him with me!”
“What? Why? You weren’t supposed to bring anything back with you! How do you know you can trust it?” Michael was out of control. He tried to push me behind him, to shield me. Normally, I would have found this endearing. Even though women could do anything we put our minds to, it was nice to feel protected sometimes. In this case, I was more irritated that he didn’t trust me enough to listen t
o me.
“Michael, stop! He’s safe, I promise you!” I stepped in front of Michael and put my back to Axoular’s form as he appeared in the well. I heard his feet hit the ground as he climbed down. My hands were on Michael’s heaving chest. His eyes flashed and his entire body was tense; he was furious.
A low growl erupted from his chest, something I’d never heard him do. “Michael? What’s going on? Why won’t you listen to me? Michael!”
His eyes snapped to me, and his voice deepened. “Move, Riley.”
I backed away from him, toward Axoular, frightened of Michael Effler for the first time in our lives together. I heard a growl behind me and pivoted. Axoular was crouched in a fighting stance. I took a moment to admire his dark golden skin. In the human world, people would assume he was from a middle eastern country. He was stunning, but he was also frightening in his anger. I stepped out from between the two, and they spoke to one another in a language I didn't understand.
“I don’t understand what you’re saying!” I cried. They moved to the side, closer to the center of the room and away from the portal. As they moved, another figure appeared in the center of the well. Michael’s eyes darted between Axoular and the portal, wary of who might come through next.
Elias materialized and jumped out into the commotion. “What’s going on?” he cried as Anthony appeared. As soon as Anthony was through and out of the well, I cut my finger and pressed it to the stone that would turn off the portal.
Michael’s voice cut through the growls coming from Axoular’s throat. “Open it back up, Riley. He has to go back, now!”
“No, Michael. I don’t know what your problem is or why your voice sounds like that, but Axoular isn’t going anywhere.” I glanced over at Axoular and saw his hands were changing. The golden hue of his skin was growing into scales, and his fingers were turning to claws. My eyes flew to his face, surprised, to find his eyes were beginning to glow red with anger. I did a double take, but indeed, his eyes were literally glowing red, as if backlit by fire.
Smoke swirled over Axoular’s head. It was rising from his hair and ears. What in the actual fuck? Could we literally breathe fire? That would be so cool.
“Anthony, do something! Michael freaked out when I brought Axoular back with me and he’s caused Axoular to go into some sort of freakish dragon defense mode!”
“Dragon?” said Elias. “They’re real?”
“It’s a long story, but I’m a dragon and I’ll live as long as you guys. Stop this mess, please!”
Axoular stopped growling and when he spoke, his voice was gravelly and hoarse. “Riley, what is he? Is he a human?”
“No, Axoular, he’s Supay, like Elias and Anthony here,” I said, pointing to Eli.
“They aren't the same, Riley. The two men behind you are the same, but the angry one is not. He’s different, and he wants to kill me.”
I turned to Michael. “Michael? Care to explain?”
“Ask him, Riley,” said Michael. “He’s the strange creature you’ve brought to Earth to wreak havoc on our world.”
“Michael, he’s not here to hurt anyone.” I tried to be soothing. I sounded more irritated than soothing, mostly because I was beyond irritated. “And Axoular, you know English?”
“When I gave you the knowledge of my language, I absorbed yours.”
“Well. That’s fucking creepy.” Extreme situations called for extreme measures, I supposed.
Axoular moved his foot an inch toward me, and Michael snapped. He lunged for Axoular, moving much faster than I could've, though not as fast as I’d seen Anthony and Elias move. At the last second, he dropped down and attempted to sweep Axoular’s feet from beneath him. Axoular jumped over Michael's leg as Michael rolled back, out of range of Axoular's claws. I ran between them and put myself in front of Axoular.
"Michael! Stop this at once, and explain what he means about you being different! Did those witches do something to you when you were captured? Did they change you somehow?"
"Riley, your Michael is a shapeshifter." We all faced Michael with our backs to the portal. In the commotion none of us noticed the stones glowing, or Boudicca coming through. She pricked her finger with an ancient gold lapel pin. Her hair was the same, but her skin was dark like Axoular, and her face was lined with deep creases. She was plump, but frail. She'd changed clothes and was wearing a nice dress of the sort my grandmother would've worn to church, her Sunday best.
"He's a what?" asked Elias, his voice full of disbelief. "He's a Supay, we grew up with him." Elias crossed his arms and looked at Boudicca like she’d grown an extra appendage. “Who are you?”
"Axoular, please subdue the shapeshifter," said Boudicca.
"Now wait a minute," said Anthony, but I interrupted him.
"Wait, Anthony. Let's see how this plays out. Something isn't right here.” My stomach clenched until it felt like a rock. Boudicca's words rang true in my heart, but I couldn't bear the pain I knew was coming. I could see a storm coming and I knew I was about to be drenched, but there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Axoular moved and he was a blur to my eyes, faster than a Supay. Before I could process his actions, he subdued Michael by wrapping his arms around him. Michael squirmed and bucked, but couldn't break free.
Axoular murmured into Michael's ear, and the fight seemed to fall right out of him. He slumped back against Axoular and nodded his head. Axoular let go, and Michael went and sat in the corner of the room. Axoular stood beside him.
"Now then," said Boudicca. "Let's get to the bottom of this." She walked over to Michael and sat gracefully five feet in front of him. "What’s your name?"
"I've gone by many names over the years. For this life, I'm called Peter Campbell."
His words hit me like a ton of bricks. I moved beside Boudicca, and sank to my knees. "Peter Campbell? Peter Campbell? What the fuck is going on, Michael?" A scream welled up inside of me. It was a lie. Nine years together, five years of grieving and unspeakable pain, and now the past few weeks of bliss. A sham, a facade. My body was tingling, almost numb.
Michael—Peter—looked from Boudicca to me. His face was expressionless, dead. "My name is Peter Campbell, and I'm not your husband." My breath caught, my shock written on my face.
"H—How?" I asked.
Body heat and comfort enveloped me as Elias and Anthony moved behind me. Elias stood, but Anthony crouched down with one arm around my shoulders. I knew he was attempting to calm me, but I doubted he could in my agitated state.
Elias spoke and his voice was hard and angry. "You’re a shapeshifter?"
"That’s the word used in this age, yes. I have the ability to transform into the image of another humanoid creature." Peter's expression never changed when he spoke. He stared straight into my eyes, but there was no life there, no emotion. Not even his eyebrows wiggled.
My breaths came out in short bursts, and I was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack. "It was all a lie.” I sobbed. No tears came to my eyes, but my chest heaved and the emotions wouldn't contain themselves inside of me anymore.
"I think you should tell us your story," said Anthony.
Peter blinked twice and spoke. "I've searched for the dragons my entire life. My people have searched for your lineage for the past thousand years. We’ve been tasked with eliminating your entire line, with wiping any dragon—Sárkány,” he spat, “off the face of the Earth. I found you, and I watched you, Riley. I watched you and Michael for years, and tried to find a time I could take on Michael's image."
Tears finally sprang to my eyes. My emotions were such a mix of relief, rage, and grief that I could barely get words out through my sobs. "He was real?" I cried out.
"Michael Effler was real, Riley. He was your husband until the day he and your children disappeared." I slumped against Anthony, relief winning against the other emotions.
"I was so afraid that you were going to tell me that you'd been pretending to be Michael from the beginning," I said, tears and snot
pouring out of my face. “I thought you were telling us he was never real.” A handkerchief appeared in front of my face. I cleaned myself up—fat lot of good it did since the tears wouldn't stop.
"The day your children were taken, I was watching from the woods behind your home. I watched them knock Michael out and leave him in the house while they loaded the screaming children into their vehicle. As soon as they were out of sight I ran in your back door to Michael's defenseless body. I killed him quickly."
Bile rose up my throat as Peter dispassionately described murdering my husband. My relief disappeared and rage and grief warred. I felt hot, feverish. "You killed Michael?" Rage won.
"I have a spike in my hand that I stab into my victim's brain stem. It allows me to absorb their memories and DNA," he stated.
Elias moaned softly, his face a grimace of agony. I had a hard time putting my thoughts into a question. My mind buzzed with anger, and I was confused.
Anthony's hands were like ice against my arms. I looked down, surprised I could feel him through my shirt. When my gaze went back up, I realized my head was surrounded by smoke.
Anthony questioned Peter further, "You absorbed his likeness and memories, but you didn't completely get his memories, did you? You've been missing things here and there and blaming it on the potions."
"Is that even true? You were never in captivity, were you? If you weren't kidnapped, why did it take you five years to come back?" asked Elias through clenched teeth.
My brain fog cleared, and it hit me that Michael was dead. After thinking I'd found him again and spending time with this man in a fucking Michael suit, knowing that he was truly dead hit me like I was hearing it for the first time.
I sat on the stone ground, in an Inca ruin in Bolivia, with an exact replica of my dead husband. I sucked in a deep breath, turned my face to the ceiling, and screamed at the top of my lungs.
When I'd gone through the portal and it activated my Sárkány heritage, it really had activated my magical side. As I screamed, my body grew hotter than it'd ever been. On the most scorching, muggiest Tennessee summer day, I'd never been so overheated.