Midnight's Son (Darkling Mage Book 5)

by Nazri Noor

  “I mean, I do my best,” I said, somehow managing to seem even cockier as I struggled not to brag.

  “Bring the sword, then. Bring as many friends and warriors as you wish. My siblings and I will meet you on the field of battle. Lose, and I take your head. Win, and you shall wear the Crown of Stars.” He smiled at me, then bowed. “Until then, Dustin Graves.” He turned away from our gathering, then vanished.

  I leaned over to Artemis, muttering under my breath. “Surely he doesn’t mean I have to fight all of you?”

  “No,” she said. “He means his actual siblings. Still more of a challenge than you’d think.”

  “And who is he – who is this family, exactly?”

  “You really don’t know?” Artemis cocked an eyebrow. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  Nyx waved her hand, and all the stars went out. The meeting was over. Only the faint, ambient auras of power surrounding the entities cast any light – that, and the strange pattern of moving, blinking stars that shone from within Nyx’s skin itself.

  “We shall send a messenger to fetch you when the time is right, Dustin Graves,” she said. “For now, you will adjourn to the Twilight Tavern.”

  “I hope it won’t take too long,” I said, as politely as I could. “This is about the Eldest, after all. It’s why I approached the Midnight Convocation in the first place. For your help.”

  I wondered if she would take the hint. One by one, as if they hadn’t heard a thing, the gods and entities of night and shadow turned their backs, then disappeared into darkness. Artemis waved at me, then left herself, walking off into empty space and simply winking out of existence. That left only me, and Nyx.

  “Some things, Dustin Graves, are best left to humanity,” she said.

  I scoffed. “Surely this affects all of us. Not just mankind. If there’s no earth, then there’s no humanity to worship you, to give you power.” Now that we were alone I’d somehow rediscovered my confidence, along with my absolute lack of impulse control.

  “Perhaps you will consider saying the same thing to the rest of the pantheons, the infernals, the celestials, to all the powers of earth. We are not so different than you, after all. The entities are fickle. Some may answer the call. Others will slam the door in your face.” Nyx lifted her head. “How much time do you have to speak to all of them, to rally so many limitlessly powerful beings who possess the maturity and impetuousness of children?”

  I was frowning, but that last thing made me chuckle with the bitterness of its truth. “Point taken,” I muttered. “Oh. I just remembered something.” I may as well ask while we were alone, I figured. “Could I maybe, possibly, if it’s not too much of a bother, ask you for a lock of your hair?”

  Nyx covered her mouth to stifle a chuckle. Her laughter was beautiful, how you might imagine the twinkling of stars to sound. “My hair? Why, your audacity is amusing, child of man. Would you ask the sky for a strand of stars? Would you petition the heavens for one of its constellations, too?”

  I blushed. It really was a demanding request, let’s be honest. And how, exactly, was I supposed to transport a lock of Nyx’s hair, anyway? Her tresses really did look like living, animated segments of the night sky.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know it’s a lot to ask. But I owe someone a favor, you see, and – ”

  “Arachne really can be such a vengeful sort. Still, it isn’t in her nature to be so spiteful that she would use my hair to bewitch me, or to lay a curse. The spider-queen is powerful in her own ways, but I do not think she would risk angering yet another of the Greek pantheon in her lifetime.” She folded her arms, what little light remaining in our void dimming even more when she squinted her eyes. “I will consider it. If you survive your trial, then come and speak to me again.”

  I scratched the back of my neck. “Right, right. I just hope this is all going to be worth it. The Eldest are coming, and they aren’t shy about announcing their intentions.”

  “The Crown of Stars is your best option, Dustin Graves. And in short order, you should have your opportunity to wear it. That is, of course, if you win.”

  “Any tips?” I asked her.

  “Why, yes. It’s simple.” Nyx waved her hand again, and I began to slowly descend from space. “Try not to die.”

  My descent quickened, faster and faster, until I was falling, sucked back into the gravity of our world. As I fell, Nyx shrank in the distance, until she was nothing but a pinpoint of starlight. As I fell, I reached out to clutch at something, anything, finding nothing but the abyss. I screamed, and I screamed.

  And smashed heavily onto dry earth.

  “Fuck,” I shouted, arching my back, my bones aching, my muscles absolutely furious at the disrespect they’d been shown.

  “Relax,” Herald shouted back. “Dude, relax. You’re okay.”

  My eyes flew open. I was back on top of the hill, right next to the cairn. The dead trees surrounding us stooped over, watching, like a circle of spindly, judgmental beasts. I frowned at them, pushed myself off the ground, and yelped when I wrenched a muscle.

  “Jesus,” I sobbed. “Oh Jesus, help me, please.”

  Herald slapped my hands away from my body. “Don’t be such a damn baby. You fell two feet, tops.”

  I scowled at him. “I fell from outer space, you absolute monster.”

  “Then you should be nothing but cinders, you stupid idiot. You should be nothing but dust.”

  “But I am – ”

  “Don’t you fucking say it, Dustin Graves, I am not in the fucking mood.”

  No kidding. Herald looked extra grumpy, even for Herald, but despite his irritation, he began to incant silently, weaving threads of violet light across my body. Tendrils of purple power sank through my clothes, reaching into my skin, and I sighed from the immediate relief.

  “Bit of healing magic to make you stop your whining,” Herald said.

  “Thank you,” I sighed. “And don’t be so pissed, you’re not the one who ended up on the moon and had to deal with the emptiness of outer space.”

  He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Tell me all about it when we get back to the tavern. I’m tired as hell and we still have to trek down this thing.”

  “All you did was sit here. What have you got to be tired for?”

  Herald’s eyes narrowed, and I swear they flashed with a tinge of red. “I’m tired because I’ve been freezing my ass off on this barren rock since you disappeared.” He flung his hand at the horizon, at the rising reds and oranges of a new sun. “It’s tomorrow, you idiot. You’ve been gone for eight hours.”

  Chapter 23

  I’d forgotten that time tended to bend in strange ways when crossing between our world and the domiciles of entities. The rules were never very consistent. Sometimes a minute in their world stretched to hours in ours.

  Herald said that in one ancient Japanese myth, Urashima Taro, a fisherman, was rewarded for saving a turtle with a trip to the Dragon Palace, a majestic kingdom at the bottom of the sea. He thought he was gone for less than a week. Apparently, in our world, three hundred years had passed. I shuddered to think.

  I did feel bad for making Herald stay up so late, with nothing to do to pass the time – but that was because I’m so quick to make assumptions about people. I forgot that he was always prepared and well-organized, almost pathologically so. He had a small stock of protein bars with him, enough for the two of us, just in case, along with several bottles of water, a handheld gaming console, and even a paperback.

  “Then why were you acting so pissed with me for being gone for eight hours?” I said, noting the irritated whine in my own voice. “It sounds like you had a great time communing with nature, minus the nature.”

  “Shush,” he said. “Shut up. We’re here.”

  I grumbled, but Herald sighed happily as he pushed open the door to the Twilight Tavern. Again the warm, fuzzy magic of the bed and breakfast’s nullification field took over our bodies. My feet were about ready to carry me up
the stairs to take me to bed, but Herald tugged on my jacket and pointed me towards the dining room.

  “Oh, hell yeah,” I said. Even from the stairs I could smell wonderful things wafting out of the kitchen. Breakfast was served.

  We found Gil already tucking into a huge plate of assorted breakfast treats as we stepped in. Sterling was with him, massive sunglasses covering his eyes, his hair bedraggled, his cheek scored with fresh, shallow cuts.

  Herald pulled up a chair at the table, and I followed suit. I chuckled at Sterling, who looked like a has-been rockstar who had ended up on the losing end of a bar fight.

  “Rough night?” I said.

  “Don’t ask,” he grumbled, sticking a thumb out at Gil. “This one kept me up. I don’t know how I’m still alive, frankly. At least Olga was nice enough to keep the blinds shut down here. I needed some coffee.”

  I gave him a questioning look. “I’ve wondered about that. Coffee doesn’t affect you. Does it? You don’t process calories, so by that logic – ”

  “Fuck logic. Shut up.” He brought his mug up to his lips, slurping noisily, looking thoroughly miserable.

  “I don’t know why he’s so worn out,” Gil said. “I had a great night.” He elbowed Sterling cheerily. “Buck up, buddy, it’s okay. Just a few more nights of this and we’ll be all clear. You won’t have to chain me up and babysit me anymore.”

  Sterling frowned at him. “Yay.”

  The french doors to the dining room swung open, and something came thundering out of the kitchen. Without even being asked, Olga had brought us two massive plates piled high with steaming hot food. Whatever Carver had paid for our time at the Twilight Tavern, it was more than worth it. She dumped the plates in front of me and Herald, and I swear the earth moved a little when they hit the table.

  “I’ll be back with your drinks,” she boomed, sweeping gracefully away.

  I didn’t wait to get started, barely breathing in between bites of everything the cook had arranged on my plate. Two kinds of eggs, rashers of bacon, sausage, something blackish that Herald told me was meant to be blood pudding, fried bread, heaps of baked beans, scorched mushrooms, fried tomatoes – I mean, I could go on, but I’ll stop there.

  We were having the full English that day, it said on the handwritten card at our table. I was chewing an enormous mouthful of food anyway, so I took some time to peruse the menu. It was confusing, to say the least. It had all sorts of things on it. Too many sorts, like the menu had been designed by someone who had never actually eaten at a restaurant.

  The full English was listed, sure, as was an American breakfast, and a continental variant, but then the menu went way off the rails, listing entries such as “one bottle of warm ketchup,” something called a “twig salad,” and “a goat.” Just the goat. No description of how it was prepared, either, or whether it was served alive. Twilight Tavern had no idea what it wanted to be.

  Olga swept over to our table, a steaming pitcher of coffee in one hand. “And how is everyone enjoying breakfast?” she said, a suspiciously friendly grin on her face, as if to imply that a negative answer would result in a trip to the hospital.

  “Excellent,” I said, meaning it in all honesty. “I’ve never had an English breakfast before. It’s the best. Though I do wonder, there are so many different cuisines on the menu. Is it meant to be fusion?”

  “The decor as well,” Herald added, as politely as he could. “It’s quite – eclectic.”

  “Oh, that is about normal,” Olga said, a finger on her chin. “That it seems as if the house cannot decide what it wants to be, how it wants to look. There are so many options, you see? And the All-Father cannot make up his mind about the direction he wants this bed and breakfast to go.”

  Herald choked on his orange juice. He swiped at his lips with a serviette, adjusting his glasses, as if seeing better would help him understand. “Sorry,” he said to Olga. “Did you say the All-Father? Odin himself owns this place?”

  Olga nodded, nonplussed. “Oh yes. Immortality takes its toll on the entities, you see.”

  “I hear that,” Sterling droned, stirring his coffee with the tip of his finger.

  “Gone are the days of glorious battle, when man would kill man, at times for conquest, at others for the sheer joy of it.” Olga sighed, her eyes gazing into the distance. “That leaves the valkyries with very little to do, you understand. There is only so much merriment to be had in Valhalla. And with the boredom of eternity comes a desire to seek other pursuits.”

  “The Sisters run their own fast fashion empire,” I offered, trying to contribute to the conversation.

  “That they do,” Olga said, doing a little spin. The building vibrated as she did, as the folds of her incredible dress spun to reveal so many panels of color, like the world’s biggest, loveliest pinwheel. “They designed this for me themselves.” She sniffed. “Custom-made, you see. Not off the rack.”

  Sterling golf clapped approvingly, as did Gil. Olga made a little curtsey – which, for a valkyrie, apparently wasn’t very little at all – then sashayed away, pitcher in hand.

  “That really bothers me, if I’m honest,” I said, my voice lowered. “How the entities don’t seem to be taking any of this Eldest business very seriously. It’s like the Scions. Don’t they see what’s going on? Even the Midnight Convocation didn’t make a big deal of it.”

  “How did that go, anyway?” Sterling said, resting his chin in one hand. “You two seem to be mostly alive, at least.”

  “About that. They’re setting a trial. I won’t get their favor that easily. This one guy with a glowing sword issued a challenge, says we have to fight him and his siblings.” I looked at Gil and Sterling pointedly. “They said I could bring allies if I wanted.”

  Gil set down his utensils, then cracked his knuckles, his muscles taut. “Bring it. Did they say when this was happening? We could call for backup.”

  Herald took a sip of his coffee, then shook his head. “Knowing the Convocation? Any time now. And I don’t think we can afford to distract our friends from what they’re doing at the moment. Carver needs to stay in Valero to handle all the rifts he can, and the Lorica is hunting down the cultists, priests, and worshippers of the Eldest. Plus, there’s been another attack directly from the Heart.”

  Gil frowned. “Yeah. I heard from Prudence. She says Royce and the other Mouths are scrambling to shut down the bad press on that one. They hit a log cabin. Pretty big one too, those fancy places rich people like to keep for weekends. No one was in it, but the blast radius was big enough for a hell of a lot of normals to see.”

  I shook my head. “I really don’t envy Royce right now. Where would you even start trying to clean up a mess like that?”

  “Whatever,” Sterling drawled. “He’s got his problems, we’ve got our own.” He waved vaguely at his face. “Like all these cuts on my face. I should be able to heal out of them, but it’s gonna take time.” He coughed loudly. “It’s not like anyone’s volunteering any blood to help me speed up the process.”

  “It’s just some cuts,” Gil said, somewhat wounded. “I said I was sorry, man. They’re not gonna leave scars, anyway. It’ll just be a couple more nights.” He patted Sterling on the back. I swear I heard Sterling’s skeleton rattle.

  “Well if that’s all it is,” Herald said, getting up from the table and crossing over to Sterling’s side. He held a hand up to Sterling’s cheek.

  “The hell is this?” Sterling said, his eyes flitting to either side of him. “Guys? What’s he doing?”

  It shouldn’t have been possible. Coils of glistening purple energy were radiating from the palm of Herald’s hand, crossing the gap to Sterling’s face and stitching the cuts back together right in front of our eyes. Within seconds his cheeks were returned to their dead, alabaster perfection.

  “This place is warded,” I said, barely holding back my amazement. “The nullification field. How did you get past that?”

  Herald winked at me. “I’ve got a few
tricks up my sleeve. It’s not just ice magic all the time, you know.”

  Sterling stroked at his cheek, his eyes lighting up when his fingers met smooth, unblemished skin. He looked up at Herald, as excited as a Christmas puppy right out of the box.

  “I’m pretty again.”

  Herald laughed.

  “Thanks, man.” Sterling jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “This guy’s cool in my book. Good choice, Dustin. He’s a keeper.”

  I blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “Welp,” Herald exclaimed, stretching his arms out and yawning exaggeratedly. “Oh boy. I’m beat. Been up all night. I should really get some shuteye. See you guys in a few.”

  Within seconds he had scooped up his belongings and bolted up the stairs.

  Gil turned back to his breakfast, and Sterling slurped noisily at his coffee, his eyes laughing, piercing me through his massive sunglasses. I frowned.

  “What?” I said.

  Sterling kept silent, only giving me a sharp, sardonic smile.

  I finished the rest of my food, gulped down some OJ, then trudged back up to our room. My legs ached as I climbed the stairs – I guess the hike up the hill had been more strenuous than I thought. I made a reminder to get some more exercise in.

  At the top landing I peeked into my backpack to check on Vanitas, not entirely surprised to see that the pocket dimension had reverted into the inside of a regular, ratty old leather knapsack under the Twilight Tavern’s influence. Vanitas sat there, quiet and unmoving, like the tarnished old sword that he was. Honestly, I truly must have underestimated Herald all this time. Breaking through a nullification field to cast healing magic, on undead flesh, no less? Nothing short of impressive.

  Carefully, I pushed the door open, just in case Herald was already asleep. I’d woken him once before, and it almost ended with me dead and pinned to the wall with six icicles stuck out of my chest. Just as I thought, he was already curled up under the covers, breathing softly. I gazed at my own bed longingly, but knew that I needed at least a quick shower to get the grime of the evening off me. Hey, even I have my limits, okay?