Aketa's Djinn (The Caine Mercer Series Book 1)

by Cale Madison

  This broke the tension for a moment - appreciative of the touch of humor in this dark place as Skalige led us to freedom beyond the tunnel’s end. Once free of the darkness, all of my senses returned to me at once: the smell of the salty, sea air filled my nostrils, the warm rays of the sun caressed my skin and the beautiful sounds of birds calling resonated within my ears.

  It wasn’t until I heard a sudden cry from Croix that I remembered where we were - he doubled over, holding Anna’s body in his arms. Her skin had begun to deteriorate into clouds of smoke that rose to the skies, whisking away in the wind. Skalige rushed to his side and helped carry her into the darkness of the tunnel, out of the blinding, mid-day light.

  “She hasn’t been fully turned yet or she would’ve become stone the moment we brought her out here.” he informed us.

  “How do you know that?”

  “I studied vampirism and its history when I was a boy,” he answered, “he drained her but never made her drink his blood. The ritual was not complete.”

  Croix bursted into tears as he heard the words, understanding what had to be done. He fought hard, stammering in hope, “H-How can I help her?”

  “Nothing, I fear.”

  “She must turn, right? I can still feel her breaths. Her chest is still moving...look, right there.” he argued.

  “Anna’s in a state of limbo in between life and death. She won’t wake up, Croix. I’m sorry,” Skalige replied, firmly, “there’s nothing we can do.”

  I rested against the wall in shock as the predicament unfolded. I knew that Croix would have to make the hard call. I held on to each second, knowing that I couldn’t bare to act in his position. The grieving man kissed Anna on her forehead and nodded to us, saying, “She’d spend her summers on the beaches and her winters by the Alpsburrow River. For her, a life without sun is no life at all. She would want this...I knew her well.”

  Skalige nodded.

  “How could I set her free? In the least painful manner?” Croix asked.

  “You have to give her back to the sun.”

  With that final verdict, Croix lifted Anna in his arms and carried her into the sunlight. Her pale skin began to flake apart, drifting away as the breeze rolled in. His face was tight, emotionless and prepared to allow his beloved safe passage into the afterlife. All that was left after were her white garments.

  “She always hated these,” Croix said to us as he held them, “these filthy, fucking bedsheets, she called them. I made her wear them on the night she disappeared.”

  Skalige said a solemn prayer for Anna, but mostly for Croix. Funerals were for the living, not the dead. I noticed the sun had reached its midday peak and that I had mere hours before the seventh sun would set. The Baron and I sat alone by the edge of the sea in silence until I spoke.

  “You saw them again?” I asked.

  “Luna and Abbi?”

  “Yes, in your vision.”

  “Aye, I saw them.”

  I could tell that reliving the traumatic experience had taken a toll on the man. His eyes rarely met mine, still fixated on the waves as they crashed against the shore. He was thinking deeply about something.

  “You wanna know something, Caine?” he said to me, “I used to think I knew fear - way back in my days in the King’s guard. We lived in Ataman for most of my childhood, before shite got the best of life. I dealt with vexed drunks, bandits, crossed indigidants and other belligerent sort but I had never felt true fear until that moment on the tower. I looked my daughter in her eyes and told her she would be safe. The last she would ever hear from me...a filthy, fucking lie.”

  I sat, intently listening as he continued.

  “I was never the model husband to Luna either. I’d drink a little too much - I’d come home a little too angry at times but my heart loved them. When thousands of people look to you for guidance, and you can’t even control your own family - what kind of man does that make me?”

  “A busy man.”

  Skalige smiled, replying, “True. But if I could take it all back, I would’ve turned to them more, instead of the bottle. I’d tell my little girl I loved her more. I don’t want my last memory of them to be what I recall now. I’ll take you to the tower.”

  It pained my heart to shake his hand, but I knew what had to come of this. The sun had reached its mid-day peak, reminding me of the Djinn’s agenda and what precious time that I had left. Croix held Anna’s ashes, resting on his knees with his head lowered. Tameron steadied himself against a willow tree, not far from us with his attention focused on the waves crashing against the shore’s rocks. He appeared to be consumed, mourning the lives of the other knights that we lost. It seemed that we were all a bit preoccupied in this moment.

  “Come now, lads,” the Baron announced, placing a hand on Croix’s shoulder, “we can not rest with the dead. Our brothers, fallen in battle with the vampire, shall be remembered as the warriors they were. Our loved ones await us on the White Shores, beyond our world; let’s not disappoint their memories now...we avenge the dead and live in their place, until the end of our days. What is our saying?”

  Tameron replied to Skalige, “Live for the battle, die for our brothers.”

  “Live for the battle...die for our brothers.” Croix repeated.

  Before I knew what was happening, we were all proclaiming the Badland’s code and descending from the hillside. I thought of Aketa, the journey, what was to come and what has past...now I thought for my companions in the Baron’s Elite - the friends that I never thought I’d make.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE PUPPETEER

  The Baron and I reached the Crescent Moon before nightfall. We bid farewell to Croix and Tameron at the gates of Skalige’s fortress and, nearly an hour later, found the titanic tower in the depths of a forest. The sun showed its last visible rays before disappearing across the sea, enveloping us and our footsteps in darkness. After this last week, it did not frighten me to the slightest, being one with the shadows. Crickets sang their plaintiff songs in the grass, reflecting the mood for our journey onward through the structure’s agape doorway. The impressive tower stood magnificently - such a pity that it was intertwined with so much negativity in the Baron’s eyes. One staircase led in a helix, upwards for nearly twenty stories.

  “Abbi could see it from her bedroom window,” he told me as we climbed the stairwell, “I told her that the military looked over the tower but she always wanted to see it for herself. ‘Tallest thing in the world’, she always called it.”

  Millions of stars shone brightly through the openings of the tower, coldly winking at us as we ascended the many, many levels. My legs felt weak from complete exhaustion, yet I continued to ascend as if Aketa stood waiting at the top.

  “Keep climbing - I asked for a man, not a little girl!” her vision barked at me.

  “I am, I am.” I answered the hallucination.

  “What?” Skalige asked as we walked.

  “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  “You’ve barely slept since I met you, and I doubt you’ve done the same in the time before. I’ll prepare a bed for you in my castle when this is over so you can rest. We’re arrogant and bitter people at times but hospitality is our strongest trait.” said the Baron, boasting with generosity.

  I felt a stabbing pain deep within the already gashed crevices of my heart as he said this, knowing that a falsity brought us here. My father taught me that once you begin a lie, it will unravel until it buries you. It always does.

  “Thank you.” I replied, half-heartedly.

  “Will you return to Mercia when this is all over?”

  “I plan to leave in the morning,” I answered, “someone is waiting for me. Has been waiting for some time now. I can promise you that I will spend the next seven months never leaving our bed.”

  “Make it six and come back to see us,” he said, “with the life as a warlord, there’s always more adventures to be had. That attribute never quite leaves us.”

  “Abso
lutely.” I said to the Baron, my heart still heavy with the lie.

  After what felt like hours of climbing, we finally ascended to the level directly below the overlook - high above the mountains beyond the Baron’s city and nearly confronting the stars themselves. In the central, innermost point of the tower’s floor rested a pedestal, resembling the podium I uncovered on North Mountain. I noticed the peculiarity of the design - Skalige recognized it almost immediately.

  “Have you heard of the sorcerer, Martok?” the Baron asked me as he examined the odd, glass table.

  “I’ve heard of him.”

  “They say that he used a ball of crystal to see into the future,” he replied, running his ringed fingers along the glass, “guess he couldn’t see his own, the poor wretch.”

  I noticed that the moon had begun to reach its highest point, nearing midnight in its crescent-shape. The end of the seventh day was drawing near with every passing second - I had to act now if I was to see this endeavor through. Skalige led us across the tower floor towards the final marble staircase, leading to the overlook.

  “I once feared a death such as that,” he continued as we climbed to the pinnacle of the tower, “never finding the time to see my daughter or to care to my wife, always just working and working. I’d have everything, yet nothing.”

  “You’re right to fear that.”

  “Am I?” he replied, turning towards me, “You brought me here for a reason, now deliver on your end of the bargain. Show them to me.”

  I stood there, looking over the night skyline, stunned without the proper words to help me. No lie could help save from another. The Baron kept his eyes fixated on me as I attempted to conjure another falsity in a state of rushed panic. I stammered as I tried to think of a proper answer.

  “Is it because you lied to me in order to bring me here?” he asked.

  Shocked, I said nothing in response.

  “Our little encounter in the vampire’s catacombs - he told me everything: your plan from the start and how you’re up to your neck in this deal with a devil. You lied to me, Caine.”

  I had no answer that could rectify my wrongs.

  “I guess, if I were in your shoes, to be honest, I would have done the same. Despicable, but I know that you do this for your wife.”

  A wave of relief washed over me, instantly.

  “Shit we do for our families, eh?” he said, never taking his eyes from a corner of the tower - most likely the area where his daughter had been murdered. A lone mirror rested against the railing across from us, sitting on the tower’s floor. Some foreign language could be read, engraved within the golden frame circumferencing the glass.

  “What is that mirror there?” I asked.

  Skalige answered, “The sorcerer used mirror reflections as a way to teleport between provinces. They could travel thousands of miles in the blink of an eye. They’ve all been destroyed except for this one.”

  Suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck fiercely from the dark skies above. Thunder erupted soon after, followed by heavy rain. This vast shift of weather, occurring within mere seconds, seemed very peculiar; the rain appeared to miss the mysterious mirror, gently cascading around it in the same fashion as the Scarlet Aven’s podium. The rain fell hard around us, prompting Skalige to suggest we head towards the lower floors.

  “Evening, gentlemen.” said the Djinn as he appeared from the dark shadows of the night, stepping gracefully as ever. His pitch-black eyes shone with the reflection of the eclipsed moon as it cast its brilliant light over the tower. Even through the heavy rain, I could see his emotionless grin clearly. “Humans are many interesting things but honest, they can never be,” he declared, scanning me as he approached us, “Caine, you made exceptional time, I might add - nearly ten minutes to midnight!”

  “Who in the blimey fuck is this?” Skalige asked me.

  “I am the bearer of your reckoning, Mister Skalige Beucront,” he answered, “risen from the ashes like a phoenix from the flame to find you sovereign in these dark, dark days. You want to see your precious daughter’s smile again? Hmm? Or to see Luna once more?”

  The Baron’s face became taut with anger. He was not amused in the slightest. The thunder increased as the conversation progressed; jolts of lightning lashing across the skyline like bright, bony fingers reaching through the night.

  “Why did you want him here?” I asked the Djinn.

  He turned his gaze back towards me, his face tightening as if he meant to avoid this certain topic. I reluctantly held my ground as he crossed the tower to join us in the center. His black eyes shone with faint shimmers of something deeply embedded into his iris, like white fish thrashing in dark waters.

  “Since the task is finished in the allotted time-frame, I shall tell you,” the Djinn said, “two aspiring sorcerers: one with ill intent and greed, the other who only wanted to learn more about the dark arts. It wasn’t until they learned how to resurrect the dead and breathe life into those nearing it that people began to seek their gifts. Martok the Wise, as unpretentious and misleading as they labelled him, cast his naive partner to the wolves in the dead of winter over a mere squabble. The miscreant stole his partner’s life’s work, taking all of the credit for himself and divulging in the endless magic that was left behind. Just as humans, he became something that he could not reconcile with, leading to his death - when those he once saved arrived at his door with sharpened blades. Martok the Wise died from the most obvious mistake...he never thought that by becoming a God to them, there would be blame instead of endearment or rejection, rather than appreciation.”

  Skalige replied, quickly, “So you were the partner?”

  The Djinn nodded and explained further, “Found me, promised that we would learn together and become the most infamous sorcerers in the Realm. He learned my tricks and then took everything from me. I vowed to end his bloodline and, as it so entails, he was a Beucront,” he continued, “and thanks to Caine here, I finally have the last remaining Beucront in the family blood-line...right where his ancestor betrayed me.”

  Skalige stepped backwards, anxiously. I hadn’t guessed that Martok would’ve been the Baron’s ancestor, nearly half a century ago. The three of us stood atop that tower, checking each other’s glances as we anticipated what was about to unfold in that moment. I could not comprehend many holes in the Djinn’s plan to bring us to this exact place in the absolute, perfect timing imaginable. My three tasks, everyone that I had met and the entire journey was nothing more than a cunning plan for revenge and to settle his personal debts.

  “Wait,” I said, breaking the silence, “this couldn’t have been some coincidence. You knew that Otto was transporting to the Badlands and you knew that Ulrik was cursed, prior to sending me there.”

  “Nothing has been a coincidence, Caine.” Skalige said to me, as if he realized some piece of truth that I had overlooked entirely. I nearly forgot that the vampire had informed him of my situation, probably better than I could.

  “How do you mean?” I asked him.

  There was a long silence between us for a moment before the Djinn finally said, “Come now, Caine, this is not a puzzling conundrum that we’ve come across. Who do you think poisoned Aketa?”

  I froze as I heard his words.

  “She never had the severity of the sickness that your mother had, Caine. In all honesty, she should’ve recovered within weeks but I needed someone with an unrelenting drive to fight as my champion. I needed you for Bartok and Ulrik’s souls and to bring a Beucront here in seven days. Souls collected along the way were merely an added bonus. I passed the message along to your friend, Taryn to ensure that it reached your ears and yours alone. I tried with many proxies before, all who failed without the right motivation. It was indeed, I who pulled the strings, Caine but you did this for her and she will be healthy as ever when you return home. Now, leave us to finish this.”

  The Baron charged at the Djinn, withdrawing his sword from its hilt as he sprinted across the tower, only
to be caught by the magical being’s swift hand lifting him off of his feet. His blade toppled over the railing and plummeted to the ground far below.

  “Accept your fate.” the Djinn commanded, dropping Skalige onto his back against the hard, marble floor. In a panic, I dove between the two in an attempt to prevent any further death.

  “Step aside, Caine,” the Djinn told me, “you’ve done your part.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” I replied, grudgingly, “too many have died this week! My place is between you and this man here.”

  “You’ve held up your end of the bargain, now move.”

  “How can I be sure you held yours?”

  The Djinn sighed and snapped his fingers. A cloud of smoke sprouted from the sky behind him, revealing Aketa as she levitated above us, unconscious. She was being held by some invisible hand, suspending her body over the tower’s ledge. I froze as I laid my eyes upon my wife. She appeared to be unharmed, the same as I had last seen her. “Oh, what do we have here?” the Djinn announced, presenting her to us in his usual manner.

  “Let her go!”

  “See, those are not the words I would’ve chosen.”

  Skalige struggled to stand, apparently suffering injury from his fall onto the tower - rising to his feet, he looked at the Djinn and shouted, “Go on and take me you ugly son of a bitch! Stop drolling on and let’s get it over with!”

  I knew that if I made the wrong decision, the Djinn wouldn’t hesitate to release his grip on Aketa or send Skalige into a hellish world of no return. I thought quickly and darted between them.

  “Wait!” I shouted to him, “Mistrz życzenia, ja ciebie wyzwaniem.”

  The Djinn instantly lowered Aketa to the tower and snapped his head in my direction, staring me down, cold and expressionless. I remembered the phrase from the whiskered man in Skalige’s fortress. He then asked me, “What did you say?”

  “This is my retribution. I said that I challenge you. If I win, you leave us forever. If you win, you take me in their stead.”