by Kirah Nyx
The moment he pondered Samael and his success, the Prince himself stepped out of the trees. Ruby beads coated each strand of white hair, and crimson drenched his shirt, torn by what appeared to be claws. Samael beckoned Felix over and disappeared back into the woods.
“Father,” called Felix hoarsely. His voice spoke of the tears he had already shed, and the weariness that consumed him. Edmund stopped his efforts of removing chunks of rubble from the ruins.
He glanced at his gloomy son before following him into the woodlands. Eveline remained on her knees, weeping for her lost child.
Deep into the woods, Samael reclined against a tree trunk. The tree next to him had a bloodied and wounded boy chained to it.
“What is this?” asked Edmund. His tired eyes showed no pity. The boy was no older than fifteen, but none of the Vampires cared.
“What do you think?” replied Samael coolly.
Felix closed his eyes and embraced the hope that came with the abducted Shifter.
“It took me a while to hunt them down—this one was the slowest, and too easy to overpower. It appears that he can only transform into a winged sloth. An ugly one at that.”
In a flash, Edmund was towering over the boy and snarled dangerously. “Where is my daughter?”
“That depends,” the boy choked out with difficulty. “Who’s your daughter?”
“Do not play games with me, mongrel,” seethed Edmund. He crouched down and grabbed the boy by the scruff of the neck. “You know who I am, you know who my daughter is. Tell me where she is and I will grant you the mercy of a quick death.”
Samael stiffened at the promise. It was clear he had no intention of allowing Edmund to fulfil it.
“I don’t know where she is, that thing you call a daughter,” he spat, disgusted.
Felix slowly approached the boy and observed him coolly. Edmund’s hand blurred in the air before his sharp fingernails came slicing down on the boy’s neck.
The wounded boy groaned and lolled his head back against the tree. Felix sensed his nearing death in the air. He could taste it. He could hear the slow, unsteady heartbeat.
They didn’t have long with him. Samael had done a number on the mutt before bringing them to him.
“Call my daughter that again, and I will take great pleasure in slicing you into pieces,” warned Edmund calmly.
Felix felt a jolt in his stomach. His father only ever spoke that calmly, that coolly, when he was at his most furious.
“Tell him what you told me,” demanded Samael. He continued to recline against the tree, appearing peaceful and nonchalant.
The Shifter breathed hoarsely and choked on blood.
He then stared Edmund dead in the eyes and said, “We were meant to take her. Our orders were to capture her alive. I don’t know why. I just know that one of our own had been sent to gain her trust, and was to lure her out. We weren’t to kill her; only restrain her.”
“Why?” gritted out Edmund. “What do your people want with my daughter?”
“I don’t know,” he croaked. “I was following orders. We were told to plant explosives in the Academy and wait for the Videer to return to their crypts before detonating them. Without the Videer, we had a better chance.”
“And the Videer crypts?” asked Edmund. “What was taken? Why were you sent to break into them?”
Felix and Samael shared a look, briefly.
“I don’t know anything about that,” he rasped. “If that was an order made by the Rebellion, it wasn’t one given to me.”
“That is what he told you?” Edmund asked the stoic Samael.
Samael shook his head. “He gave me a name. Domenic Marroc.”
“And that is supposed to mean something?” asked Felix.
“It meant everything to Ivy,” said Samael coldly. “It is the name of her Videer friend. As it happens, he was the Shifter sent to gain her trust.”
“This is hardly promising news,” said Edmund.
“It is better than the alternative,” argued Felix. “If Ivy went with this Marroc, she might still be alive.”
“Not quite,” smirked Samael.
He glanced down at the boy and gestured for him to explain. Felix suddenly understood the plentiful injuries on the Shifter. Samael had tortured him for information before bringing Edmund and Felix there.
The boy went to speak, but choked a bit of his own blood.
He spat it out. “The target … Domenic was meant to lure her out into the woods. But, she figured it out somehow. We chased her to the cliff. She jumped and took two other bloodsuckers with her. We heard them hit the rocks. There’s no way they survived that fall.”
“Only if their necks were snapped,” corrected Samael. “They might be dead from other injuries, but if their necks are intact, they’ll wake up.”
Edmund sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. “If they died, they won’t awake for hours, and the water travels far. We don’t know where the water will take them.”
Samael kicked himself from the tree. “We must gather the Videer troops and send out a search party. If we are quick and thorough, we will find them. But we must act now before they wake up and wander off. They might encounter more Shifters if we don’t reach them first.”
“Then why are we wasting time,” snarled Edmund as he stood. It was rhetorical. Icily, he added, “Kill the mutt.”
Samael smirked and glanced down at the chained boy. Slowly, his cruel eyes raised and he looked ahead in the direction they had come from. A Fae emerged from behind a tree, his eyes shining with feral hunger. His yellow teeth were revealed, ready to feast. River Ridge had come for revenge.
Felix and Edmund shared a knowing look and stepped away. They allowed River passage, and relished in the darkness of what would come to the Shifter. He would be fed on alive.
“Go,” said River. His hungry eyes stayed on the tense Shifter, so injured he couldn’t transform. “I will enjoy my meal while you search for her, and once I regain my strength, I will help.”
Felix ground his teeth irritably and broadened his shoulders. “How do you propose to help us?”
“A blood spell,” said River slowly, as if he was explaining something to a toddler. “I cannot feel her here in the Blood Forest anymore. With the blood spell, I will have a general idea of her location. That is, if she is still on these lands.”
“And if she isn’t?”
“Then we will have to search another way,” he said and looked up at the sky. “When the sun is at its highest, I will know if Ivy remains on this island, or is gone.”
Edmund looked up at the blue sky. “Two hours,” he estimated. “Should we be so unfortunate as to not find my daughter in our search, we will return here. I expect the spell to have already been performed, River.”
River and Edmund locked gazes, and a shiver of tension rippled through the air.
“Enough,” dismissed Samael. “We are wasting time we cannot afford. Two hours, River; that’s all you have.”
“It is more than enough,” he replied.
The three Vampires left, and River allowed a cruel smile to twist at his face.
The savageness of the smile alone sent the Shifter into a screaming frenzy before River had even touched him.
Because the Shifter was no fool … He knew what horrible fate would befall him.
It was the worst fate of all, to be eaten by a Fae.
16.
Death Island was abandoned, due to the desolate landscape.
No one had stepped foot on the dry soil, barren beaches, or muddy waters for centuries. Or so the Arcane had thought.
Deep in the forest in the farthest parts of the Death Island was a village. It was shabby and shanty, and could be called a slum. The wooden huts were grimy and decayed, and the one street was without a path or a road; it was comprised of a patch of worn earth, decorated with spots of sludgy rainwater pools, blotted into the parched terrain.
There were twelve huts in total, and twenty-three people standing in th
e centre of the village.
All were dirty and dishevelled, except one; a pale female, around eighteen-years-old, with sleek white hair and startling white irises.
The curious-looking girl stood in front of a tall, tanned man, with black hair that fell over his forehead, darkening his already black eyes.
The tanned man stared defiantly at the pale girl and slowly raised his hand to reveal what lay in his palm: a single lock of tight straight, limp hair in the palest shade of white.
“You have failed me, Domenic,” said the blonde girl disapprovingly. “I requested the creature herself, not her hair.”
“We were unable to capture her.” Domenic appeared indifferent. “She surprised us with her abilities. Her agility and speed surpassed our expectations.”
“Perhaps,” she replied coldly. “Or, perhaps your sentiments for the girl allowed her to escape. So long spent earning the trust and affection of this girl. Perhaps you fooled yourself in the process.”
Domenic raised his chin and stared at her down the bridge of his nose. He showed no fear or signs of submission, but the others were glancing nervously between the pair. Domenic said, with a challenging bite, “She escaped on her own merit. I cannot take credit for it. She must’ve had more Fae magic in her than I thought. Nature seemed to work to her favour.”
“If I did not know any better, Domenic,” she smiled falsely, “I might conclude that you are proud of her for evading you and your pack.”
He smirked. “Then it’s a good thing you do know better, Athena.”
Athena narrowed her white eyes at him, but he continued to smirk arrogantly at her.
A young boy pushed through the crowd and watched with agitation. He paused at the edge before he broke free of the crowd.
“Athena, I almost had her. I had her pinned to the ground in the school. She got away, but Lotan chased after her. She killed him.”
“Enough, Silus,” barked Domenic. “You disobeyed orders, proving once again that you are not ready for this war. You abandoned your post in the woods to find Ivory Skylar on your own. She could have killed you, like she did Lotan and Clyde. And what were you doing when you had her, Silus? You were trying to kill her, weren’t you?”
“Kill her?” echoed Athena with raised brows. “A direct violation of the Rebellion’s orders. What do you say to this, Silus Marroc?”
“I took it upon myself to try and end her life,” he replied confidently. “She is worthless. We don’t need a Vampire as a prisoner. If my brother had the same idea, we could’ve brought you back her head, not a lock of her hair.”
“Young pup,” smiled Athena. The smile was as cold as her stony eyes. “Your ignorance astounds me. Ivory Skylar is much more than a Vampire, and so very far from worthless. I need her alive. Whether you understand my reasons or not is irrelevant. That is why you are yet to advance in the ranks of the Rebellion. You do not follow orders, you do what you think is best, and you are rarely right. If this continues, you will live the rest of your years in your brother’s shadow.”
Silus clenched his jaw and inclined his head stiffly.
Archer stepped through the crowd and held his hand. Archer glowered at Domenic, who didn’t even look at her.
Gracefully, Athena hummed and took the lock of hair from Domenic’s hand. She brought it up to her nose and sniffed.
“Her scent is strong,” she observed. “It will assist us in tracking her.”
“I have another lead,” said Domenic.
“Do tell.”
“I prepared. I was presented with an opportunity—her birthday. I paid a Fae to fashion a jewel for me. A lilac ruby embedded within a necklace that I gave to Sky.” If Athena noticed the nickname for Ivory Skylar, she didn’t show it in her perfect composure. “Whenever she touches it, the necklace will awaken its counterpart.”
“Its counterpart,” echoed Athena curiously. Domenic raised his left hand and showed the silver ring on his thumb. A small ruby glistened and winked from the silver band.
“The ruby on this ring will glow and hum whenever she touches the necklace. It will lead me to her,” explained Domenic. “The location will not be exact, but that is what the lock of her hair is for. With her scent and this ring, my unit will find her.”
“And the Fae who performed this trickery for you?”
Domenic stared stonily at her. He seemed irritated, as though his patience had been ground down to crumbs. “A banished Fae in the Foundling world. Easy enough to find, but expensive.”
An impressed smile slinked across her taut lips. “A watcher,” she said knowingly. “I’m pleased to hear of your resourcefulness, Domenic.” She glanced at Silus. “That, young pup, is why your brother is my trusted advisor and ally, not you.”
Silus stiffened, and reluctantly bowed his head submissively. Archer’s jaw rolled, but Athena fixed her eyes on Domenic and added, “We must find her before her own people do … Before he does.”
“That presents a problem,” he replied. “Our curse activates in three days. We’ll be trapped in animal form for the entire season.”
Athena’s face hardened. “Ah,” she said bitterly. “Three months that give the enemy an advantage.”
Silence swept over the village as she gazed over Domenic’s shoulder.
After a pause, she dismissed him with a lazy flick of the hand. Domenic bowed his head slightly and stepped back into the crowd, leaving Athena alone in the centre.
“This presents a problem to us. I will not pretend,” announced Athena. “However, it remains that I want Ivory Skylar brought to me alive. Harm her, deter her, render her unconscious. Whatever it takes, do it. But under no circumstances will any of you kill her. Am I understood, my Shifter friends?”
A murmur of agreement rippled over the circle of Wolves.
“Remember,” she added, “that this target is unlike any other Vampire you have encountered. Ivory Skylar drank a near-gallon of Archer Marroc’s blood, and survived. Ivory is immune to the venom of your bites and the poison in your blood. So, it will not be as simple to capture her as a bite.”
A ripple of unease swept over the village.
“The Prince of the Vampires and the Prince of the Fae will be searching for her. It is imperative that she is found by the right side before they take her. At first, we only speculated her importance to Prince Samael, but now we are absolutely certain. We cannot allow her to fall into his hands. Ivory Skylar has never been more important to us than she is now—should the Prince reach her first, he will use her to activate what he and his comrade stole. The Divine Artefacts. We cannot allow these Artefacts to be used—for they mean the total extinction of all but the Vampires.”
Athena looked around at her audience and observed their passive expressions.
Archer, as always, had a bitterly determined face and nodded vigorously, eager to take on the task she would not be given.
“Again,” Athena said, stopping to face Domenic. “I leave this to you. The Rebellion needs you, Domenic. Can I trust you to bring Sky—” she enunciated the word mockingly, and Domenic’s jaw ticked. “—to me?”
Domenic slowly dropped to one knee on the ground, and every other person except Athena followed suit. They knelt around her, full circle, and bowed their heads.
“Yes,” said Domenic. “I will find Ivory Skylar, and I will do what needs to be done.”
17.
A pebbly shore lined the riverbed.
An ivory white girl lay on the pebbles, motionless. Her white hair clung to her damp face, and bruises blemished her arms and legs. A torn and tattered, once lovely, pyjama set hugged her saturated body.
Her finger twitched on the pebbles. Water climbed up from the river and washed over her toes. They curled.
The girl jolted. A sharp sound tore through her damp lips as she jerked. Eyelashes fluttered above blood-shot eyes, straining to see through the glint of returning consciousness.
White eyes gazed up at the cloudy evening sky and water leaked fro
m the corners of her chapped lips. She blinked blankly for a while, waiting for her mind to come together. Her life force seeped back into her body. Her white irises were bordered by black circles, and the black pupils of her eyes expanded.
Ivory Skylar gasped and spewed foamy water from her mouth. It splashed onto the pebbles where it joined the trickles of water running back down to the river.
Clambering to her muddied feet, Ivy warily eyed her surroundings. Flashes of her memories shook her brain.
Ivy clutched her head and groaned. They came flooding back to her, memories her family, her school, her love; Domenic Marroc, a handsome Videer who had charmed her at every turn. But, no, he was not a Videer. He was a Shifter. He had tricked her.
Ivy dropped to her knees and clasped her head. Her shoulders shook and her body curved over itself. The agony was horrendous, more than she’d ever imagined.
Even when the memories calmed in her mind, she was left with the whispers of pain. Her arms and legs hummed and pulsed, her temples ached, and her throat burned with hunger. Rubbing her parched throat, Ivy dragged her hooded gaze over the shore. A white object caught her attention. Her schoolbag, torn and tattered, and sopping wet. Ivy lurched over it and checked the contents inside.
A soaked scrapbook Felix had given her was tucked between a knotted necklace, from Domenic, and a vial of blood. She snatched the vial and downed the sweet substance. Ivy zipped up her bag and hoisted it over her shoulder.
She nearly jumped out of her goosepimpled skin.
“You’re awake! About time, too. We’ve been waiting ages!”
It was Penny. She was hiking through the shallow waters of the river. Addie was behind her, waving happily.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Ivy slumped and lolled her head back. She smiled with the strain of aches and sores before she staggered toward the girls. Addie bounded past Penny and threw herself at Ivy.
Addie mumbled into the crook of her neck, “I worried you wouldn’t wake up—You were out for hours.”
Ivy’s brows furrowed against Addie’s limp hair. “Hours?” she repeated. “What time is it? Where are we?”
