by Meg Anne
Suddenly, her day was looking a lot less exciting, but she couldn’t think of a valid reason to exclude him.
“Mother save me from insufferable men,” she muttered, turning and stalking away from him.
“I heard that,” he called after her.
“You were meant to.”
Chapter 21
Lucian recapped his water flask before tossing it to Effie. She caught it, but just barely, her cheeks turning crimson as she fumbled with the heavy bag.
Refusing to meet Lucian’s or Kieran’s gaze, she looked instead at Kael, who was chuckling softly.
“Proud of yourself?” she growled.
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Me? What did I do?”
“Hobbled me for life,” she grumbled.
Kael threw his head back and laughed. “You’ll be fine in a day or two.”
Kieran looked between them, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What’s she talking about?”
“Kael has taken over her weapons training,” Lucian answered.
Effie could feel the weight of her tutor’s stare but would not look at him.
“That’s your doing, I take it?” Kieran asked Lucian.
“The Triumvirate’s, actually,” Kael said, one of his dimples flashing.
There was entirely too much testosterone permeating the air for her liking. Effie turned to Lucian. “Should we get back to it?”
Something in her tone must have bothered him because Lucian frowned before giving a sharp nod.
They’d already spent hours scouring the jungle. When Effie asked what they were looking for, her only answer had been “anything out of place.” Since she wasn’t familiar with Bael, that wasn’t particularly helpful. But then, what else could she expect from the Keepers or their Guardians?
Although their small group had yet to find anything that fell into that category, nervous energy continued to prick at her, leaving her on edge. She ran her hands up and down her bare arms in an attempt to alleviate some of her unease.
It was a humid day, the air thick with moisture. All four of them had removed their cloaks within a matter of minutes after leaving the portal. While Effie appreciated the sheer amount of tanned, sculpted muscle on display, she was more jealous that she could not follow suit. As a female, there were a couple of reasons she did not have the luxury of stripping out of her vest as the men had done, and so she was left with the thick leather clinging uncomfortably to her sweaty skin.
She might feel a bit better about it, if the men at least had to suffer as much as she did. As it was, her thin linen undergarment was soaked through, and did little to protect her from the chafing. Thankfully, she’d been able to peel off her blue tunic to remove at least one additional layer between her and the vest, but the way Kieran’s eyes heated as she did made her want to tug it back on, oppressive heat be damned.
All in all, the day was shaping up to be one of the most unpleasant she’d had since leaving the Holbrookes. Between the tension simmering concerning her and Kieran, and her growing sense of unease and overall discomfort, she was in a foul mood.
The sky was completely obscured by the trees, washing the jungle in an eerie green glow as they picked up their packs and started working their way through the next uninvestigated area. Insects buzzed and leaves rustled as the creatures of the jungle went about their business, ignoring their visitors.
Effie lost track of time as she kicked at rocks and smacked at leaves that were as large as she was, not realizing the men were no longer in sight. It wasn’t until the buzzing disappeared completely that she froze.
The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and Effie’s heart began to race. Her hand moved to her hip, resting on the hilt of her dagger.
“Who’s there?” she called out, her quavering voice underscoring her fear.
The snap of a branch was her only answer.
Effie spun around, eyes franticly scanning each bush, trying to find the source of the noise. She took a step back, and stumbled, falling down hard. Her teeth caught the inside of her cheek at the impact and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. Eyes tearing from the pain, she scrambled back, crying out in horror as the ground beneath her hands gave way. Her gravity shifted and before she could right herself, Effie toppled backwards into a yawning darkness.
She landed with a dull thud on top of something slimy and cold. It wasn’t hard exactly, but not soft either. Gasping for breath, she blinked up into the gloom, barely able to make out the trees that were now far above her.
Too scared to move lest she fall again, Effie laid still, remaining motionless for several terrifying moments. Surely the others heard her scream and were seconds away from scolding her. She just needed to find a way to get out of this hole.
If only she could see.
Patting the area around her legs, Effie found the small pack that had become dislodged during her fall.
She sat up, trying hard not to think about the source of the rancid smell that filled her nose, or the sticky slime trickling down her back.
Opening the bag with trembling fingers, she searched for the flint and tinder she’d stuffed inside the night before leaving Helena’s camp. Effie sent out a brief but heartfelt thanks for that moment of foresight. It took three attempts before a bright light flared.
A startled scream tore through her throat and Effie dropped her light. It flickered and died as it hit the ground.
But it didn’t matter. Effie had seen all she needed to. It wasn’t a hole she’d fallen into.
It was a grave.
Stomach churning, Effie gagged and pushed to her knees. The still decaying corpses rolled beneath her weight and she heaved again.
In the brief moment of light, she’d seen at least six disfigured bodies, each more horrific than the last. She had no idea how many might be in the hole with her and didn’t care to know. One corpse was too many, especially if it was cradled against your back.
Another branch cracked and she could just make out the sound of shuffling steps over her frantic gasps of breath.
“In here, I’m in here,” Effie screamed, relief that they’d found her causing the first of her tears to slip free.
More shuffling and then a body-shaped shadow eclipsed the few leaves she could still see.
When no voice called down to her, Effie knew she’d been horribly wrong. It wasn’t help that had found her.
It was death.
Chapter 22
Lucian scanned the clearing, his face thunderous.
“I don’t know how she managed to wander off,” Kael muttered, his expression equally dark.
Lucian didn’t bother to reply. His brother already knew he’d fucked up. Angry words would do little to help them find her, even if they did provide a means of venting some of the frustration boiling inside him. Although, at the end of the day, the weight of the failure was on his shoulders alone. As the one leading the mission, it was up to Lucian to ensure everyone returned in one piece.
Eyes narrowed, Lucian scanned the floor checking for prints.
Effie couldn’t have gotten far, but there was no sign of her. They’d tracked her to the middle of a clearing that was within shouting distance of where they’d made camp for their midday meal before losing her trail. There was no reason they shouldn’t have heard her if she’d been in trouble, and there was no sign of any struggle. It was like she’d up and vanished.
If they hadn’t been in the middle of the damn jungle, Lucian would assume she might have stepped through a portal, except there were only three beings in Elysia with the knowledge and power to create a portal, and none of them had ever placed one here.
So, what then?
Lucian ran a hand along his jaw as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing, or rather, what he wasn’t seeing. It couldn’t be a coincidence that she’d disappeared in the exact area where they were scouting, which meant that he was missing something. It was either that or whatever she’d inadvertently triggered disa
ppeared when she did.
But all magic left a trace. There should be something here.
“Do you think—”
Lucian cut Kieran off by holding up a hand. Closing his eyes, he focused on calming his breathing and centering himself.
As a Guardian, his power was nothing like the Chosen, whose gifts were linked to the Mother and her elemental branches. Since he was not of this realm, neither was his magic. His abilities were tied to the temporal threads that linked all living things together. Once seen, they could be manipulated. While he couldn’t create anything new, he could transform anything that already existed. If someone else modified one of those threads, Lucian should be able to sense it and follow it to its source.
When Lucian opened his eyes, the world came alive. Golden energy swirled and pulsed around him, infusing the already vibrant jungle with its radiant glow. Everything from the towering trees to the tiniest insect had its own spark of life which was comprised of a tangle of threads connecting it to its surroundings. Lucian rarely allowed himself to view the world in its basest form, as it was too easy to accidentally tug on a string that could unravel everything. Only millennia of practice and iron-clad control gave him the confidence to do so now.
Even with his power unleashed, he almost missed it.
The dissonance.
The smudge of inky black staining on an otherwise brilliant strand.
Crouching down, Lucian let his fingers trail just above the strand until the palm of his hand hovered over the stain. Icy cold seeped into his skin and Lucian jerked his hand back.
“Luc?” Kael called. “You okay?”
Ignoring him, Lucian plucked at the damaged thread, slowly lifting it by an unaffected end until it was cradled in his hand. It allowed Lucian to inspect the damage without getting too close to the searing cold. As he watched, the stain shimmied up the strand causing the gold light to sputter and die, leaving only a withered gray fiber in its place. The closer the darkness got to his hand, the faster it moved, as if it was drawn to his own source energy and eager to make contact with his fingers.
Lucian dropped the thread, instinct warning him not to let it touch him.
He’d never come across anything like it. Not in Elysia or any other realm he’d walked.
His lip curled in disgust. He might not have the name for it, but there was no mistaking what was happening here. It was a magical parasite, stealing the energy of all it came into contact with to feed and power itself.
If not dealt with, that tiny stain would overtake the entire jungle, putting everyone and everything that called it home at risk.
Before Lucian could deal with the blight, he needed to follow it to its source. He knew without a doubt that’s where he’d find Effie. Although the state he’d find her in was another matter entirely.
Still wholly focused on the one tainted strand, Lucian tracked it with his eyes. Woven as it was through so many others, sometimes he’d lose the thread only to pick it up again a few feet away. The longer he followed the shining tendril the less he lost track of it, which said more about the speed with which the blight was infecting the strands that surrounded it than his prowess.
“Mother save us,” Kael breathed. The other Guardian must have tapped into his own power when Lucian came to an abrupt halt.
Lucian almost forgot to breathe as he took in the quivering darkness that had already claimed a half dozen trees and everything between them. His skin broke out into goosebumps at the sudden drop in temperature.
Letting go of his power, Lucian rapidly blinked to force his eyes to adjust. Nothing looked out of place, and yet . . . the sense of wrongness was undeniable. It scratched at his senses, urging him to retreat. He ignored the instinct and stood firm. Whatever the stain was doing, it was not visible to the naked eye, which must be how it snuck up on Effie.
Leaves rustled and the hair on Lucian’s arms lifted. Another time, another place, it would have been unremarkable. Except that it was the first thing he’d heard—other than Kael and Kieran’s muted voices—since following the thread.
Pulling his sword free, Lucian spun in the direction of the sound. Branches swayed and shifted as a grotesque figure stepped forward into the dappled light.
“Elder’s holy balls,” Kieran cried out.
Lucian shifted his stance, his blade already aimed at the being that appeared more corpse than man. It had clearly once been male, but the milky eyes that snaked with black were no longer seeing, and the flesh of its cheeks had rotted away giving it a rictus grin.
On its own, that was enough to make most grown men piss themselves, but for Lucian, the moment true fear struck his heart was when he noticed the bloody clumps of wheat colored hair dangling from the creature’s outstretched fingers.
Rage, potent and pure, consumed him and Lucian roared.
The creature lunged, but Lucian was faster. His blade slid through the wrinkled gray skin of its neck as easily as melted butter. The head fell and rolled away, rancid black ichor spraying Lucian as the creature’s body sank to the ground.
“What in the hell was that?” Kieran asked, his voice shaky and his usually tanned skin pale.
“A Shadow,” Lucian answered.
“How did it get here?” Kael asked, his somber expression a stark contrast to his usual grin.
“Better question, why was it alone?” Lucian countered. “They are supposed to travel in packs.”
“Who cares? That thing had Effie,” Kieran said, already making his way toward the place the Shadow had come from.
“Wait,” Lucian growled, gripping Kieran’s arm.
The Keeper twisted out of his hold, teeth bared in a snarl. “She could be hurt.”
“She might not be alone. Your rushing in could cause more harm than good.”
Kieran glared at Lucian, his nostrils flaring and his chest rising and falling rapidly, but he stayed put.
Exchanging a look filled with years of understanding, Lucian and Kael crept forward, scanning the area for any sign of another Shadow. As far as he could tell, there weren’t any. That didn’t mean there wasn’t danger.
Lucian took another tentative step forward, his body freezing as the ground beneath him turned soft and gave way. Throwing out an arm, he barely stopped Kael from toppling head-first into a sink hole.
“Where did that come from?” Kael asked, his eyes wide.
Lucian shook his head, about to respond when the first of the soft grunts reached him. Someone was down there. Kneeling, he peered over the edge of the hole, not wanting to alert a potential enemy that they’d arrived. All attempts at subtlety fled as Lucian’s heart stuttered.
“What is it?” Kieran whispered, peering over his shoulder.
No response was necessary. He heard their shocked inhales of breath as the others processed what they were seeing.
The three men could only stand in stupefied horror and watch as Effie hacked at the Shadow whose boney fingers were wrapped around her slender throat. She’d somehow managed to take it down and was currently kneeling on his chest as her dagger sawed into the tendons of its throat. The hand around her neck spasmed, and Effie used the moment of freedom to pull out of its grasp. Using her free arm, she pinned his hand to the pile of rotting bodies beneath them and resumed her attempts at beheading . . . but her small blade was not up to the task of severing a head from its body.
“Die, damn you,” she cried, her voice a hoarse croak.
Lucian made a swift mental calculation. The hole wasn’t big enough for him to jump down and help her, he’d take up too much space and prevent either of them from being able to fight properly. That didn’t mean he was willing to stand around doing nothing.
“Fledgling!”
Effie risked a glance up, her face smeared with blood and ichor. “Took you long enough!”
Lucian allowed himself a brief flash of teeth as he recognized her use of his earlier greeting. There wasn’t time to do more than wave his weapon to make sure she understood his
intent before dropping his sword into the pit below.
His blade sunk into one of the corpses just as Effie jumped off the Shadow, pressing her back against the wall. She scrambled toward the sword, losing her footing on the uneven ground as she struggled to pull it free.
Meanwhile, the Shadow had already pushed itself upright. It crawled to her, clawed hand outstretched and grasping at her ankles. She kicked its hands trying to keep her distance, but her focus was split between pulling out the blade and staying out of reach. Unfortunately, she was only successful at one of the tasks.
The Shadow pulled her down, hard. Lucian could hear the thud of impact as her head slammed into the bones of one of the corpses.
There wasn’t enough space in the hole for Lucian or one of the others to jump down and help her, not without impeding their range of motion to fight. Instead, they were forced to watch helplessly as she twisted, clumsily swinging the freed blade up and into the Shadow.
“Its head! You have to cut off his head” Lucian shouted down.
“I! Fucking! Know!” she screamed as the Shadow lurched off her.
“That’s it, stay angry,” he whispered.
That spark of wildfire he was coming to associate with her would be the difference in how this fight ended.
Still holding onto the hilt, the sword slid out of the Shadow with a wet slurp. Chest heaving, Effie moved into a defensive stance, her eyes never straying from her target. The Shadow took one lumbering step forward and slipped on a body. Effie saw her opening and used all the power left in her shaking limbs to chop its head from its body.
She fell before the body did, her knees giving out from under her.
Lucian heard her whimper, heard the sobs of relief and shock that she’d never admit to once she was safely back in the citadel.
“It’s all over, you’re safe now.”
“Just get me out of here,” she panted.
