The Dark Lands (Angelbound Origins Book 5)

by Christina Bauer

  For my part, I’ve spent the last half hour kneeling beside Walker’s cot, holding his hand. I’ve never felt him so cold. With each passing minute, despair presses in more tightly around me. Walker looks so hurt and miserable. Clearly, someone was torturing him, yet he escaped and found us.

  And we’ve done nothing to heal him.

  Lincoln stands over Walker. My guy’s face is pale with worry. Reaching into his pocket, Lincoln pulls out his last healing charm. This one is camouflaged to look like a small purple pill. Leaning over the bed, Lincoln sets the small round charm into Walker’s mouth.

  “Come on, Walker,” whispers Lincoln. “You can do this.”

  The pill bursts with purple light. Violet haze wafts up rom Walker’s lips. Happy, Lincoln, and I all stare at our friend, hoping for some change.

  Walker lays unmoving. The spell didn’t help.

  Jaime rushes through the door, breathless. “I found him.”

  Obsidian stomps into the room, his staff gripped tightly in his fist. Lowering his head, Obsidian begins murmuring something in a language I can’t understand. Not a shocker. Lucas uses strange tongues in his spells all the time.

  Hope sparks in my chest. Obsidian is a powerful mage. Perhaps he can do something.

  A moment later, Obsidian’s staff changes. The raven head atop the rod transforms. The bird’s eyes glow with inhuman light. Opening its mouth, the enchanted raven lets out a loud caw. Red tendrils of misty power twist out of its beak, winding their way over to Walker.

  As Obsidian continues his spell, the mists from his staff whirl around Walker’s body. The tendrils become thick as mummy wrappings. Another flash of light follows as the cords of Obsidian’s spell seep straight into Walker’s body. The crow head atop the seraphim’s rod returns to being a carving once more.

  Obsidian raises his head and looks around the room. “I’ve cast a spell to give Walker more strength to heal. This magic isn’t instantaneous. We won’t know for hours if it works.” The seraphim steps closer to the bed. “Walker has the power to heal. These wounds should be gone by now.”

  “It’s the Viper,” I explain. “For months, that fiend has been attacking Walker with Lucifer’s Gauntlets. It leaves his powers weakened.” A chill runs over my skin and it has nothing to do with the rain or cold. “The Viper broke into this mansion with portal power from Walker himself.”

  A thought appears in my mind. Portal power. Is that the only thing the Viper stole from Walker?

  Snapping up my head, I meet Lincoln’s gaze. That chess playing look has returned to his eyes.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” asks Lincoln.

  “Yes.” I answer. “This is about more than portals.”

  Happy folds her arms over her chest. “You two need to stop speaking in code.”

  I can’t help but crack a smile. “We thought the Viper was only stealing Walker’s ability to create portals. But it’s more than that. The Viper was after Walker’s ability to heal.”

  Lincoln nods. “That’s why the Viper kept attacking Walker, over and over. He’d drain the power to heal, but that magic is unique. It would replenish again.”

  Happy rushes over and picks up the canopic jar. “This thing stores magic, right?”

  We all stare at the jar for a long minute. “I bet it storing some of Walker’s healing power.”

  “Can we put it back in Walker?” asks Happy.

  “Sadly, no,” replies Lincoln. “We need Lucifer’s Gauntlet to put it back inside him.” He looks to Obsidian. “Is that something you can do?”

  “Perhaps,” replies Obsidian. “If I had a room full of canopic jars and a month to experiment. No seraphim has ever cast a spell like that before.”

  “In order words,” says Happy. “That would be a no.”

  I tap my cheek. “There’s more to this. Something we’re missing. The Viper didn’t steal Walker’s powers so many times without a reason.” I round on Obsidian. “What could the Viper want Walker’s powers for?”

  “I’m not sure,” says Obsidian slowly. “But I know where you can find more information.” He turns to Happy. “You must finish your tour of the grounds. I’ll go with you this time. It was a mistake for me to have stayed behind before.”

  “Happy’s about to show how all the seraphim perished,” says Jaime. “Anyone would understand why you wouldn’t want to see that again.”

  I pull on my ear. Not sure I heard that right. “You’re about to show us how the seraphim died?”

  “Happy will show you, yes,” answers Obsidian. “And I will accompany you. It’s far less likely that any lava angels will attack if I’m with you.”

  “Less likely?” says Happy. “Works for me. Besides, I love punching Inferno in the face. Let’s do this.”

  “I’ll stay behind with Walker,” says Jaime.

  That buzzing feeling comes back to my chest. My phone! I pull out the device and see Cissy’s name on the screen. I take call button while following Obsidian, Happy and Lincoln out the door.

  “Myla, is that you?” Wherever Cissy is, there’s a lot of shouting and background noise.

  “Yes, are you on the Senate floor?” No one shouts like Senators.

  “No, I’m at Enmity Farms with Zeke,” says my bestie. “I don’t want to freak you out, but…” I can’t see Cissy, but I know my girl. She’s worrying her lower lip with her teeth.

  “Go on, Ciss. I can take it like a girl.”

  “The Enmity guys walled themselves up in the house. Shotguns are sticking out the windows and everything. Oh, and there’s smoke coming from the fireplace. I think they might be destroying evidence. We’re about to raid the place.” Muffled shouting sounds in the background. “Oh, I better go.”

  “Stay safe,” I say. “Call me when you can.”

  The line goes dead.

  Ugh. If Zeke and Cissy get murdered on a worm farm, I will never forgive myself.

  Chapter 21

  A few minutes later, our small group stands at the same spot where Happy cast her spell and revealed the graveyard. Happy turns to Obsidian. “How far back should I go?”

  “Take them to the time Lucifer fell. Only please, do not make it real as you did the rain.”

  Happy raises her right brow. “Creating visions from the past takes energy. But adding in an actual physical element? That stings like Hell, so it’s only for rare occasions. And for visions that don’t include, you know…”

  A major battle.

  My pulse speeds. Not sure I want to see Obsidian’s friends die. But if it helps us save Walker and Drayden? I’m all for it.

  Happy rubs her hands together in a slow rhythm. Bits of white lightning flash between her palms. Kneeling down, Happy places her hands against the ground. “I cast my spell. Return this land to the time Lucifer fell.”

  More light bursts out from under Happy’s palms. Once again, the power moves in a circle, reaching out across the grounds. For a moment, I see the same sight as before: a graveyard as far as the eye can see. Countless statues reaching off into infinity. I hug my elbows. Perhaps each grave marker symbolizes someone Lucifer killed.

  How awful.

  On reflex, I move closer to Lincoln. Wrapping his heavy arm around my waist, my guy pulls me against his side. It helps to feel his warmth and strength.

  The image of the graveyard stays before us for a moment more. Then it disappears. The ground is empty and clear of fog. Stars twinkle in a clear sky. Above our heads, hundreds of angels fly in intricate circles. All of them wear silver armor and hold swords in their fists.

  And none of them are molten.

  This is the Brimstone Legion as they lived.

  A shiver rocks across my shoulders. We’re seeing the past. Before, Happy’s magic took Inferno back to when the angel was twelve years old. Now happy is returning Black Wing Manor to the day Lucifer fell. Dad’s story reappears. My father had promised to meet Lucifer on the field of battle for a formal challenge. Lucifer arrived with his B
rimstone Legion so they could watch my father fall.

  We’re in the past.

  The Brimstone Legion flies overhead.

  This is the day that battle was supposed to take place.

  I carefully scan Happy. The young girl who kneels against the earth, her eyes closed, power pulsing out from her hands. Indeed, this Chosen One is strong.

  While the Brimstone Legion flies overhead, a new figure stomps toward us across the ground. Lucifer. There’s no missing the golden hair, wings, and armor. Lucifer pauses some yards before us. His blue eyes flare with blue light.

  On reflex, my tail arches over my shoulder, getting into battle stance. I pat the arrowhead shaped end. “He can’t see us,” I explain. “This isn’t real. At least, not this time. We’re watching shadows of the past.” My tail scans from left to right and remains in battle stance. It so doesn’t believe me on this one.

  Lucifer leans back on his heels and bellows. “I invoke my right to a challenge an archangel duel. Xavier! Where are you?”

  I lean more closely into Lincoln’s side. This is what my father spoke about back in Purgatory. Dad tricked Lucifer here, to this very battlefield, saying that they would fight to the death.

  “Come out, Xavier. Show yourself. One of us dies today.”

  Above our heads, the angels still swirl and dive in an intricate rhythm. It would be a beautiful dance, if it weren’t for the silver swords and deadly intent.

  Another figure steps forward, or to be accurate, it walks right through us. It’s Obsidian, or a younger version of him. Interesting. Since this is a representation of the past, the seraphim must be able step right through those of us who are flesh and blood today.

  Young Obsidian pauses. In some ways, he’s the same as the Obsidian of today. The young version wears the same black armor and carries the identical staff. There are differences, though. Young Obsidian has a spring and purpose to his step. This isn’t the same person who now bellows orders at Black Wing Manor.

  “Greetings, King of the Angels,” says Obsidian. “I come to tell you that none of the archangels will fight you in a duel today. Instead, we seraphim will finish you.”

  Lucifer’s face brightens into a blazing smile. I mean, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. It’s the kind of joy that makes you want to follow him around, do his laundry, pay off his credit cards, anything to keep him close.

  “Obsidian, my friend,” says Lucifer. “The only way to kill me is by ritual combat, one to one, archangel to archangel. And even if you survive that, my Brimstone Legion flies overhead. Inferno, my Champion, is with them. Don’t waste your life needlessly.”

  Eight more figures step forward. They are all seraphim, like Obsidian. Each one carries a staff.

  Lucifer’s smile grows wider. “So all nine of you will risk your lives. Please don’t.”

  Young Obsidian lowers his head. A low murmur escapes his lips. Another spell. Wisps of red power curl out from Young Obsidian’s staff. The raven head atop the stick comes to life and caws.

  The other seraphim follow suit. Soon the air fills with their murmured spells. Fresh caws sound as their staffs come to life. I’m so fascinated by the seraphim before me, that it takes me a moment to notice that in the past, the scenery behind them has changed.

  In the past, there’s no gate protecting Black Wing Manor.

  A chill runs through my veins. Not sure why that realization makes my hair stand on end, but it does.

  Lucifer’s mouth thins to an angry line. He rounds on the young version of Obsidian. “What is this? Do you really think some little spell of yours can kill me? I’m Lucifer, King of the Angels.”

  Moving in unison, the other seraphim take their staffs and lower them into the ground. A great flash of red light bursts from their bodies. Tendrils of power flash out toward Black Wing Manor. I saw this effect before when Obsidian tried to heal Walker. Instead of surrounding Walker, those red bands of power now surrounding Black Wing Manor, encasing the structure in a dome of crimson magic and light.

  Lucifer raises his hand. “Angels, to me!”

  Now, my father and I like to chat up battle strategy. According to Dad, battle strategy is nothing without soldiers who follow orders and fast. With that in mind, I have to admit one thing. The Brimstone Legion is an impressive fighting force. Lucifer says three words and they speed back in his direction, still keeping in their neat lines.

  The seraphim smash their staffs down again. Fresh tendrils of red power shoot out once more. This time, the crimson magic of the seraphim encompasses Lucifer. Great ribbon-style loops of energy wind around the King of the Angels. Raising his golden sword, Lucifer strikes his weapon at the threads of energy. The golden blade slides harmlessly through.

  “A charming party trick,” says Lucifer. “But as you know, truly great magic requires a sacrifice to match. I came here for a duel to the death. You could all kill yourselves with a spell, yet your magic would never be enough to destroy me.” He gestures behind him to the Brimstone Legion. The angelic warriors stand in neat rows that stretch off toward the horizon. “And even if you did succeed in destroying me, the Brimstone Legion would remain. Fly away, little birds. This is no place for you.”

  In reply, the seraphim thus down their staffs for a third time. Now the threads of crimson energy flash and roll beyond Lucifer.

  Obsidian steps forward. “We don’t plan to kill you or the Brimstone Legion. But destroy you all? That we will do. And the price will gladly be paid.”

  A chorus of moans sounds from the Brimstone Legion. For the first time, a look of mild alarm lights up Lucifer’s eyes. The king of the Angels glances over his shoulder. The red ribbons of seraphim power now wind around each angelic warrior. As the energy soaks into their bodies, the angels transform. Wings turn solid. Arms freeze in place. Metal armor changes into stone. The warriors break rank as they try to run. There’s nowhere to go.

  Soon, the entire Brimstone Legion is transformed into stone angels.

  A sick feeling twists inside me. That was no graveyard I saw before. At least, it wasn’t a typical one. What I thought were grave markers were actual angels transformed into pale rock.

  Some of the angels closest to Lucifer can still move. A dozen crawl and hobble toward him. Their cries echo across the grounds.

  Help us!

  Save us!

  Lucifer doesn’t seem to hear them. One angel scrambled close enough to grasp Lucifer’s ankle. The King of the Angels kicks him away.

  Wow. That’s some cold shit, right there.

  With his golden sword held high, Lucifer stalks toward Young Obsidian. However, at one time the King of the Angels strode with grace. Now his movement are stilted and slow. No question why, either. Lucifer is turning to stone as well. With each step closer to Obsidian, Lucifer speaks one word.

  “Not … stone … for … long!”

  By the time Lucifer reaches the word stone, his body becomes frozen in place. Where once was gold, now everything is now mottled shade of gray.

  Young Obsidian shakes his head. “You don’t have to stay stone forever,” says Young Obsidian. “I only need time to imprison you in the seraphim’s labyrinth.”

  Behind Obsidian, the other seraphim slam their staffs onto the ground once more. Before, the seraphim had sent bands of crimson energy to create a dome over Back Wing Manor. Now, more power tendrils speed toward the manor than ever before. As the dome around the manor grows brighter, the seraphim themselves change.

  The seraphim’s bodies begin to disintegrate. Only Obsidian remains whole. With a gasp, I realize what’s happening. The Seraphim are putting their own life power into this final stage of the spell. The physical seraphim disappear as a tall gate forms around Black Wing manor. For a moment, the images of the seraphim glow red in the iron that creates the massive gate and fence. After that, the structure turns dark.

  Young Obsidian races over to the new gate and fence. His blue eyes are lined with tears. “Thank you, my brothers and sisters
. You sacrifice saves us all”

  Magic has a price, and great magic has a steep price. To turn Lucifer and his Brimstone Legion into stone—and to protect the prison inside Black Wing Manor—eight seraphim transformed into iron. They are literally the power that protects and encircles Back Wing Manor.

  Young Obsidian kneels before the new iron fence, his shoulders heaving with sobs.

  The current version of Obsidian speaks. “I lost my brothers and sisters that day. They have all been transformed, just as the Brimstone Legion. I can never have them back.” He walks over to Happy and gently touches her shoulder. “It is over. They have seen what they need.”

  Happy lifts her hands from the ground. Her face glistens with sweat. Obsidian helps her to stand. Happy looks between me and Lincoln.

  “Please tell me that help.”

  “It did,” I say. “Thank you.” The visions form the past combine with the present. Information aligns. Fractured facts weave into a greater tapestry. “I believe I now know what the Viper plans to do.”

  “And what’s that?” asks Happy.

  “The Viper’s been draining Walker’s powers for months, storing up that healing ability in canopic jars. Using Lucifer’s Gauntlets, the Viper placed Walker’s ability to heal inside one of the angels of the Brimstone Legion.”

  Happy frowns. “But they’re all dead.”

  “I see what you mean, Myla.” Lincoln focuses on Happy. “Take Inferno as an example. Was she dead? Perhaps that was true at one time. However, Walker’s power is one of a kind. When his unique magic combined with the seraphim spell that froze Inferno, Walker’s power healed her stone body. It transformed rock into lava and created magma versions of the Brimstone Legion.”

  Obsidian pounds his leg with his fist. “The Viper has been doing more than stealing into Black Wing Manor. Once that fiend got the ability to create a ghoul portal, he must have come out to the stone army to experiment with the gauntlets. All the Viper would need to do is portal to this spot, pull out power from a canopic jar, and put it inside a statue. That’s how the Viper created Inferno under our very noses.”