Leaving Mom with our “sleepers,” plus Richard and Soph, Brandon took us down the south side of the Black Heights, through the deep woods where only the occasional deer dared to graze. Neither the Berserker nor the Valkyries believed they were able to teleport us like my mother could—they assumed it had something to do with them being from Purgatory and not of the living realm, but that hadn’t stopped the Reapers from zapping us around. No, there was another issue at play here. While I was curious to figure out what that was, we didn’t have time to debate or study the phenomenon.
We trekked down the rocky and wooded mountain side until we reached the grassy hills leading to the Vale. From there, hidden from sight with invisibility magic, and careful not to get too close to any of the populated areas while Jericho covered our tracks, we made our way across the fake Shade and into the witches’ Sanctuary, which… wasn’t like our Sanctuary at all.
The whole place had been terraformed, for lack of a better word, and it was nothing like the rest of The Shade. The greens were greener here. The reds redder. This part of the charade was remarkably beautiful and realistic—a lush clearing with patches of tall grass and citron-yellow flowers blooming everywhere.
“This is not the Sanctuary,” Thayen whispered as we took a minute or two to understand what we were looking at. Brandon nodded his agreement.
“Witches don’t live here, for starters. This was made to suit Hrista’s desires,” he said. “It’s her residence.”
Regine grumbled. “This is wrong.”
No one said a word. We knew she’d have to accept the truth in her own time. Cautiously, we walked across the clearing, the occasional dry leaf crunching beneath the soles of our boots. Not far from us, a deer raised its head from a thick underbrush, casually chewing on roots and blades of grass. Its big eyes were strange, black, and devoid of any emotion. This creature only lived to serve as food, I realized. It had no other role in this false world. HQ must’ve taken DNA samples of animals and plants, too, in order to build this world.
Ahead, an elegant villa rose up, its white walls covered in lilac wisteria, fully bloomed and sprawling everywhere. It looked as though it was pouring down from the flat stone roof. Tall oak trees cast their cooling shadows against the house. Shadows born from the faint celestial glow and the orange-fire torches mounted around the property on a thirty-yard radius, while a carefully manicured garden surrounded the ground floor. The wisteria blossoms had vines intertwining with the wrought iron railing of the double semi-spiral steps leading up to the front entrance—a pair of white lacquer French doors with frosted glass panels that almost beckoned me to open them.
“It feels like an invitation to go in,” Myst murmured, deeply concerned by the sight before us.
“Do you sense her?” Brandon asked.
She nodded once. “Closer than ever.”
“Damn her,” Regine hissed. Finally, she was ready to accept reality. I imagined she would be angry once the initial shock wore off. I hoped it would come sooner rather than later, in case Hrista tried something against us. Brandon’s concerns from earlier came back to haunt me—what powers and tricks did she have to make him so worried? And what were our odds of defeating her, even with two Valkyries and a Berserker on our side?
I’d have my answer soon enough.
There wasn’t any movement around the house. There were no guards, and I didn’t see any movement through the windows of the two-story villa. At first glance, it looked gorgeously abandoned. With our hearts in our throats, we took the first steps toward the front stairs, ready to follow Brandon inside.
“Where is she?” Regine whispered.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “Probably inside, plotting who knows what. It’s all she’s been doing lately, according to what I’ve overheard from those who unwittingly pointed me in this direction. Well, either holed up in here, or out beyond this realm, doing whatever it is she does when she’s not around. Forgive me if I’m not in charge of her daily itineraries.”
His sarcasm died along with everything else as the double doors opened brusquely. A heavy, silent darkness oozed from inside, pouring down the steps like liquid smoke. My blood ran cold as I realized we had been expected. Torrhen emerged, tall and proud and grinning with tremendous satisfaction, his third eye gleaming with violent delight. “Ah. There they are,” he declared, looking straight at Brandon. “It took you forever.”
“You set us up?” Myst croaked, then grabbed Brandon’s arm.
He yanked it back, livid and insulted. “No, damn it! I had no idea!”
A delicate laughter echoed from inside the house. Torrhen straightened his back and stepped aside as a Valkyrie came to stand beside him, stopping at the head of the stairs. She was stunning, with golden hair, blazing blue eyes and glossy pink lips. Her skin was fair and smooth as milk. She didn’t wear the Valkyrie armor, though. No, she was neatly squeezed into a black-and-white leather dress. Half of it, from high neck to ankle, was white. The other half was black, both meeting along the middle seam in a perfectly straight line. The leather was so thin and soft that it clung to her body like a second skin.
“Hrista,” Myst gasped upon recognizing her sister. “What… what is the meaning of this?”
“Forgive Brandon. He really didn’t know we’d be expecting you,” Hrista replied, her voice as sweet as honey. I had identified a clear pattern regarding the Valkyries. They’d been made to entice, to conquer, and to take your breath away. The same could be said about the Berserkers, albeit in a darker sense. Hrista’s appearance made it hard for me not to stare, and I wasn’t the only one: Thayen’s jaw was on the ground; Jericho was at a loss for words; Dafne was frozen in place. Regine and Myst, on the other hand, were vivid portrayals of anguish and heartache. Brandon glanced my way, looking vindicated.
“Please, tell me this is all a bad joke,” Regine snapped, drawing her sword with a metallic screech.
Hrista exhaled sharply, and the liquid darkness swallowed the grass and the yellow flowers, rushing toward us in an unforgiving tide. As soon as it reached Regine’s ankles, her sword dropped, its glow lost. Its blade turned dull and gray. “Oh, honey. It’s not a joke. It’s something I’ve been working on for a very long time. And frankly, it doesn’t concern you.”
“How can you even say that?” Myst replied, stepping back to escape the black mist. In an instant, I caught her wrist and pulled her away before she could touch Regine. Her sister was paralyzed, unable to move or speak. Something within me had screamed danger, and I didn’t want Myst to get sucked into whatever this was.
“It’s a pity,” Hrista sighed, shaking her head as though she were genuinely disappointed. “You should’ve stayed in Purgatory. Now, you may never leave this place.”
Myst gave me a petrified look and tried to reach Regine again, but Brandon helped me pull her farther back. “Don’t,” he said. “Whatever is paralyzing your sister will affect you too.”
Our troubles were only just beginning. Merely looking at Hrista told me that much. She was too calm. Too pleased with herself for any of this to be sheer coincidence. All at once, the truth exploded in the back of my head like a heat bomb. Every step we’d made thus far. Every decision. Every push and every pull… They had served her, not us.
“She wanted us here,” I whispered.
Hrista had allowed us to move around, to make friends, and to fight our way through this place. The languid smile on her face all but confirmed it. By Brandon’s will or by ours, it didn’t really matter. We had been pawns, gradually taking the necessary steps to reach Hrista. She didn’t bother to hunt us down. This black mist alone would’ve been enough to trap us quickly and easily, but no, she’d let us stew for a while before drawing us to her.
Now the pawns were in their positions, and Hrista was ready to play.
Astra
“We’ve been following your lead this whole time,” I said, raising my chin in defiance. Pink light burst from within me in a menacing fashion. It made To
rrhen squirm, I noted with satisfaction. Even Brandon took a few steps to the side, unaccustomed to so much brightness.
Hrista, on the other hand, seemed equal parts irritated and bored. “No one has been able to get close enough to kill you, so I figured I might as well let you stew a little before I end you myself.”
“Sister, no…” Myst managed, a single tear escaping her eye. “What did you do to Regine?”
“Got her out of the way,” Hrista replied. “Not much else I can do. Otherwise, I would’ve had you both destroyed ages ago. I knew you two would be dumb enough to follow me out here.”
The more she spoke, the clearer it became that she did not value her Valkyrie sisters. Not one bit. It told me she cared even less about us, the living, and I doubted she gave even the slightest damn about the clones either. To Hrista, beings were either useful or a nuisance. Torrhen had chosen to be the former, while Brandon had risked being the latter.
“You knew we’d be coming,” Brandon cut in, not really surprised but definitely upset. Darkness burned off him in black wisps of anger, spreading and covering his silver and steel armor, then the bits of leather and his bare arms. Bit by bit, it took over, leaving only his strange eyes visible as he readied himself for a fight. “You knew I would bring them.”
“Of course,” Hrista said, slightly amused. The black mist under her control stopped mere inches from my boots. It had to be related to Haldor’s darkness somehow. Its effects were similar, as far as I could tell. I’d only caught snippets of their magic and their capabilities, and it was difficult to form coherent observations without the Berserkers and the Valkyries filling in all the necessary blanks. There was so much we did not know yet, and that was where Hrista had already beaten us. “Why struggle to chase you around when I can just let you be yourselves? The living rats came in looking for their friends and for the truth. What’s the harm in giving them both before I kill them?”
“Torrhen, you betrayed us,” Brandon replied.
“Torrhen did what was best for him,” Hrista shot back before the Berserker could open his mouth and defend himself. The third eye glowed when it looked to us this time. “You should have done the same thing, Brandon. Yet you insisted on thinking yourself smarter than me. You and Haldor, for that matter. Two fools.”
That caught everyone by surprise—except Torrhen. He’d either known or was just excellent at hiding his expressions. “What are you talking about?” Brandon asked, taking a step forward. The black mist covering the grass trembled at his approach, like a live organism reacting to his close proximity. Regine hadn’t moved a single inch, but I’d seen the blue fires burning in her eyes and taken it as a sign of welfare, despite her hopefully temporary paralysis.
“He was always a little too soft on you,” Hrista sighed, leaning against the wisteria-covered railing. “Never followed through with his threats despite your numerous shortcomings and betrayals. Case in point—here you stand, Hammer is still intact, and Haldor… nowhere to be found.”
“You know where he is, don’t you?” Brandon muttered, and I sensed the humor in his voice. He’d figured something out, and he was making the most of this difficult moment. “Let me guess. You know where he is, but you don’t know where he hid Hammer. You gave him leeway on that issue—figured he’d do what he was told—yet Haldor went behind your back, and Hammer is out of your reach while your other Berserkers are doing what, exactly? Torturing Haldor? Trying to get the information out of him, perhaps?”
Thayen gave me a curious look. “Where is he going with this?”
“Oh, I’m going somewhere really good with this,” Brandon replied, almost laughing. It made Hrista and Torrhen turn sullen, but neither said a word. “It means Hrista here no longer has leverage over me. Say what you will about Haldor, but a Berserker of his skill and expertise would’ve caught you all by now, twice over. He never really tried too hard.”
I began to piece together a new perspective from what Brandon was saying. “Haldor never really wanted to catch us,” I whispered. “He made it look like he was, but…”
“Not really,” Hrista said, pursing her lips. “That, I saw coming. I allowed it to happen. I just didn’t think he’d be—”
“Brave enough to play it all the way through,” Brandon chuckled and drew his twin swords. Darkness bounced off the blades with obsidian shimmers, their sharp edges hungering for violence. “Caught you by surprise, huh?”
Hrista waved him away. “I don’t care for him much, anyway. I don’t care for you, either. Did you think I’d put all my eggs into one basket, you fool?” She smiled brightly, and the whole fake Shade seemed lighter and prettier, if only for a breath. “I chose a different path long ago,” Hrista said, turning her attention to an increasingly devastated Myst. “I’m stronger and smarter than all of you put together. But Edda… Edda thought herself a better leader, that self-absorbed idiot. Well, here we are, in a world of my own making. I’ve done so much, learned so much!”
“You should give the Spirit Bender some credit,” Thayen muttered, drawing from what he remembered of Visio and what he’d learned from Brandon. Out of everyone in our crew, he was the best equipped to discuss the First Tenner with Hrista.
“I absolutely credit him,” Hrista hissed, giving Thayen a contemptuous snarl. “You’re one of those responsible for his destruction. Don’t think I’ve forgotten, and don’t think I’ve forgiven, either. But yes, I’m here thanks to Spirit. I learned much from him, and he would’ve learned so much more from me. You see, I’m like a sponge. I absorb knowledge and information, I filter it and jumble it together… and I make new things with the old. This here,” she said, pointing at the black mist on the ground. “That’s Haldor’s proprietary poison, imbued with death magic, making it particularly toxic to both Valkyries and Berserkers…”
Suddenly, the mist reached Brandon’s leather boots. He didn’t stand a chance. His swords fell to the ground, as he joined Regine in perfect stillness. “No…” I breathed, realizing what this meant. He was paralyzed. Rendered useless. Vulnerable.
“I have my fingers in so many pies,” Hrista went on, smiling at me. “So many things to do. My plans are complex and stretch across dimensions. I’ve spent years, centuries, weaving them, putting every piece in its rightful place. Millennia passed in this realm as I waited for the Spirit Bender to come back to me, only to see him destroyed not once but twice by you Shadian bastards.” Her smile faded, lips twisting with disgust. This was personal.
Allowing my inner light to intensify, I briefly focused on the black mist near my boots. It seemed to pull back from me, reacting to my power. She’d frozen Regine and Brandon with it, and Myst knew better than to fight her on this. But I needed a solution to this problem. I needed to understand what Hrista had been doing and why she was so determined to kill me.
“You talk a big game, but it’s hard for us to understand the exquisiteness of your actions unless you tell us what this is all about,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. It was beginning to feel like a showdown, tension rising and crackling through the air between us. I doubted I’d leave this place alive if I allowed Hrista to do as she pleased, so it was important to keep her talking while I scanned our surroundings and figured a way out. Besides, she owed us some answers. I was afraid, but the thought of giving up now was unacceptable, especially with Brandon unable to fight. I had to hold on long enough for him to recover. Regine, too. “What’s the point, Hrista?”
“You know what? I’ve changed my mind. You people don’t matter enough to warrant a response,” she replied. “I’ve had my fun watching you, but you’re too boring to be allowed to live. I’ve had a little charm put on Brandon for the past day or so, and I’ve seen enough to confirm that you truly are a waste of a soul.”
She’d been watching us. Listening to us. That meant she knew about my private moments with Brandon, too. The thought made me shiver. “Did he know?” I asked. Hrista shook her head. “So, you’ve been spying on us.”
> “Just to make sure you’d be coming over. It was only a matter of time.”
“And the clones?” Thayen asked, moving closer to my side. I knew Jericho and Dafne were ready to dragon out, but we couldn’t be sure what we could accomplish against someone like Hrista. Torrhen was perfectly capable of killing us on his own now that Brandon and Regine were down. I wasn’t sure Myst would be enough. We needed more time. “What purpose did they serve? Why did you make them?”
Hrista offered a careless shrug. “You ask questions as if you expect to receive answers. They serve a purpose. Obviously. Everything they have done has been for a particular reason and with a precise endgame in mind. Even the shimmering portals. Each one had to be opened in those specific places. There’s not enough time for me to explain everything to you. You’re going to die today.”
“What did Isabelle’s clone steal from our Shade?” I asked, unwilling to let her get to the murderous part. Glancing down, I noticed the black mist still hesitating in my presence. It would ripple and try to get closer to me, but my pink light kept pushing back. This wasn’t new, but it did feel different. Had I evolved, perhaps? My light felt stronger, more intense as it buzzed through my veins. This place was supposed to dull us down and drain us of our life force, but there had been plenty of circumstances where I’d pushed myself beyond my known limits. Was this proof I’d crossed a certain threshold, perhaps? If so, it meant Brandon had been right. I hadn’t tapped into my full potential just yet, or maybe I was just starting to now. “You had her with us for two months. What was it she took that you so desperately wanted?”
Hrista and Torrhen laughed and exchanged glances. It was funny to them, and I would’ve allowed this to get to me in any other circumstance—but our survival was paramount. Let them giggle, I thought, keeping an eye on the black mist as it enveloped Regine and Brandon’s boots. Inching closer to them, I made it pull back. There were only a few feet left between Brandon and me, so I wondered what would happen if I kept moving. The black mist seemed… afraid of me. Did Hrista know?
A Shade of Vampire 90: A Ruler of Clones Page 16
