Hidden Worlds

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Hidden Worlds Page 445

by Kristie Cook


  “I’m going to absolutely eviscerate him,” Ty swore, rattling the cell door handle and pounding on the heavy wood, testing for weaknesses. “How long have we been down here?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Ty’s anger left him as a wave of fear overtook him. Kyr’s fear. Was she afraid because she didn’t know where he was? Or had the Rite already started?

  Gren, he called out with his mind. I’m in the prison.

  I’m on my way, Gren replied.

  No! Ty thought back. Send someone else you trust. You have to stay with Kyr. She—

  She ordered me to find you. I had no choice.

  “Oh, God,” Ty whispered.

  “What’s wrong?” Sem called out.

  “I think the Rite has started. Kyr has no one there to protect her.”

  A minute later, he was sure of it. Pain screamed through his head, dropping him to his knees. This time, it wasn’t physical. It was projected. He was experiencing Kyr’s pain.

  “Ty? Are you okay?”

  He couldn’t answer Sem. His teeth were clenched together as he clutched the sides of his head. Vycor was being as brutal as he could, forcing himself on Kyr’s mind instead of coaxing her gently through the Rite as he should. It was a vicious, vindictive assault.

  Another blast of pain made him shout a curse.

  “Ty, what the hell is going on?”

  Vycor was mentally raping Kyr, and Ty couldn’t do anything to stop it. That was what was going on.

  Kyr! He knew she couldn’t hear him, but he started sending thoughts to her anyway. Kyr, I love you. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there like I promised. I’m coming. I’ll get there as soon as I can. Just hold on, baby …

  It felt like the assault lasted forever. Sem had stopped calling out to him. Ty stayed on his knees even when the pressure eased. The lingering pain would have knocked him back on his ass if he’d tried to stand. He could only imagine the pain that Kyr was experiencing directly, since he only felt a buffered residue of it.

  He was going to kill Vycor as painfully as possible for this.

  Where the hell are you, Gren?

  Almost there, Dem-Shyr.

  How long would it take him to get to the Ritual Chamber from the prison? He tried to calculate it in his head, not having gone that particular route before. If he ran the entire way, it would take five minutes or less.

  That would feel like an eternity to Kyr.

  He felt her terror. His heart pounded for her. His palms were moist. Sweat dripped along his hairline.

  Searing pain across his right palm made him cry out in shock. A second later, the same pain blazed across his left. The pain all but choked him.

  “Ty, you’ve got to tell me what’s happening,” Sem implored. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” he whispered, unable to speak louder than that. It felt like his flesh had been flayed from his hands.

  He knew then that Vycor was using the old Ruvex Rite ritual on Kyr. If they didn’t get there soon, there was every chance he would kill her.

  ***

  Kyr had refused to allow Vycor to chain her down for the Rite. She knew this was a mental ritual. There was no reason she should have to be bound to the altar like an offering.

  “Very well,” he’d told her with that cruel smile. “But we’ll remove that pretty lace jacket. No sense in it getting ruined.”

  Her heart thundered harshly against her breastbone over his words. He lifted a hand and several Mynders that Kyr didn’t recognize came forward. Two of them removed the jacket, then placed their hands on her bare shoulders and pushed down until she was forced to kneel at the base of the altar. Vycor stepped in front of her and looked down at her. She read the triumph in his eyes even as he reached for her.

  He placed his hands on either side of her head, and without any warning whatsoever, drove straight into her mind.

  Her mental defenses sprang up immediately. No! her mind rebelled. He’ll take things from you that you want to keep. Don’t let him in!

  His fingers dug into her scalp, tugging at her hair as he battled with her. She realized he was enjoying her resistance. There was even a growing bulge in the crotch of his pants. That just made her fight harder.

  Kyr, I love you. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there like I promised. I’m coming. I’ll get there as soon as I can. Just hold on, baby …

  Ty’s voice ran through her head, giving her added strength. She didn’t know what had happened to him or how his thoughts were suddenly getting through to her, but it meant he was still alive, and he was coming for her. She had to find the strength to fight.

  So she fought and she fought. The pain was unrelenting. It cornered her like a wounded animal, making her feral and defensive. And when she’d had enough, she pushed back.

  Violently.

  Vycor released her. His eyes widened as he looked down at her. Both of them drew in sharp breaths, as though their fight had been physical rather than mental. When something warm and wet dripped from her nose, she glanced down. The front of her white dress was now lined with blood from a nosebleed.

  Perhaps it was more physical than she’d realized.

  “I knew we were going to have to do this the hard way,” Vycor said, that terrible smile back in place. “Chain her down.”

  Kyr’s heart shot up into her throat. “No,” she rasped, trying to get to her feet. She felt like she had aged fifty years.

  The Mynders ignored her refusal, easily lifting her up and dragging her onto the altar. They each took a wrist or ankle and pinned her down so they could secure the shackles. She couldn’t put up much resistance. Her body felt lifeless.

  I’m still with you, Kyr. Gren is almost here. Be strong. I love you.

  Ty’s thoughts sounded calm, but she felt the pain behind them. She knew then that he was feeling what she was.

  Oh, Ty. Please don’t stay joined to me through this. The thought didn’t go far enough to reach him, though. There was no strength behind it.

  Vycor positioned himself back at the head of the altar. She watched as his gaze slid from her eyes to her bound ankles and back up again. Evil hunger distorted his face, making her wonder how she had ever thought him handsome.

  How could the crowd not see how much he was enjoying this? None of this was right. It was beyond horrible. Why weren’t they doing something about it?

  Looking at the Mynders on either side of the altar, he said, “You know what to do when I begin again. The only way I will break through such formidable defenses is if you use the implements. The physical pain will distract her enough from my intrusion that I will finally be able to get into her mind.”

  Physical pain? Kyr’s eyes wheeled to the right as the Mynder moved. He lifted a rod with a glowing tip. It looked like it had been sitting in a raging fire.

  “No,” she said again, her voice stronger this time. She met the Mynder’s dark gaze. “Don’t hurt me. Please.”

  Vycor’s hands returned to her head. She braced herself for his attack. He held nothing back, flinging himself at her mental defenses like a battering ram. Her mind screamed in terror and fury. Seconds later, that scream had a voice as one hot rod was placed against her palm and then another. Her delicate skin sizzled and burned, scenting the room with charred flesh. Her screams echoed through the vast room.

  “Let me in!” Vycor shouted, spittle flying from his mouth.

  No!

  Tears poured from her eyes, mingling with the blood from her nose as it dripped down the sides of her face. The Mynders removed her shoes.

  “No!” she shrieked.

  But they did it anyway. Hot rods scorched the tender soles of her feet. The first two Mynders moved from her palms to her forearms, pressing the rods against her skin again and again, searching for any sensitive place they could find. They lifted her skirts and bared her thighs, branding her there, too. When that didn’t work, they pulled out tools that looked like scalpels and started carving.

  Her body arched up from the
altar in agony. She writhed and jerked in an attempt to escape her bonds. Her voice was hoarse from her screams.

  Vycor’s hold tightened more and more the longer she fought him. He pushed as hard as he could against her defenses, even lifting her head and slamming it into the altar in frustration. Darkness ringed her vision, but Vycor pulled her back, not letting her succumb, needing her conscious for the Rite to work.

  She was going to die, she realized. If she didn’t let Vycor into her mind, she would die.

  You will be challenged in body, in mind, and in soul … forced to make sacrifices.

  The Prima Divyner had spoken of this. If she yielded to the torture and allowed Vycor into her mind, he would win. He would either dispose of her and take over Alametria, or use his mental abilities to make her do whatever he wanted. He could have her starting a war with Shelvak, risking the lives of thousands of Alametrians. He could have everyone on the planet doing his dark bidding.

  She could never let that happen. She would sacrifice her body to Vycor’s torture, but never her mind.

  Not even if it killed her.

  Chapter 37

  Gren and Sem had to help Ty to his feet when Gren finally arrived with a contingent of Mynders and rescued them. Ty struggled to regain his equilibrium, knowing he had to get to Kyr. The immobilizing pain made it almost impossible.

  “Jesus, Ty,” Sem said, using Earth vernacular in his shock. “You look like shit. Your nose is bleeding all over the place. What the hell happened to you?”

  Absently wiping at his face with the front of his shirt, he explained, “It isn’t happening to me. It’s happening to Kyr.”

  “What?”

  Ty closed his eyes for a moment and did what he could to distance himself from what Kyr was experiencing. That was his only hope of getting to her.

  Within seconds, he was shoving past Sem and Gren and running out of the cell. He followed the map in his head, cutting through the kitchens and a guest’s bed chamber to save time. His feet moved faster than his brain, propelling him forward like a motorized vehicle. People shouted and jumped out of the way when they saw him coming. He didn’t spare any of them a backward glance.

  Moments later, the doors to the Ritual Chamber came into sight. The Mynders standing there lifted their de’llums when they spotted him. Ty reached to his side for his own weapon only to realize it had been taken from him.

  Get the hell out of my way! he boomed at them with his mind, the full power of the Dem-Shyr behind it.

  They moved.

  Open the goddamn door, he ordered to the Mynders on the other side of it.

  The doors opened.

  He raced through them, his gaze sweeping the chamber. Then he staggered to a halt.

  Kyr was lying spread-eagle on the altar, her once-white gown stained with blood. Four Mynders stood over her, bloody implements in their hands. Ty directed his rage at them first, sending them screaming in agony to their knees with a single thought. Every one of their faces etched itself into his mind to deal with later.

  He walked past them, heading right towards Vycor. When the crowd started to rise, he shouted at them with his mind until they all sat back down. He’d never felt so much power flowing through him.

  “Release Ma’jah Kyr, VycorDane,” Ty commanded, knowing better than to try and infiltrate the other Mynder’s head while he was inside Kyr’s. The results would be devastating. “By order of the Dem-Shyr, release her now.”

  But Vycor knew if he did, Ty would kill him. Everyone in the room knew it.

  Ty wasn’t about to stand there watching Vycor continue his assault. Closing his eyes, he opened his connection to Kyr. He braced himself on the edge of the altar as her excruciating pain hit him. He bowed his head and concentrated.

  Kyr, I’m here. Find me.

  He didn’t get a response. Fear threatened him, but he shoved it back.

  Kyr! I’m here. We can stop him. We can stop the pain.

  He felt Vycor’s darkness seeping into the purity that was Kyr’s mind. She’d lasted longer than anyone else could have under the attack, but Ty knew she had weakened. Fury gave him added strength. He headed right for the darkness and started his own attack against it.

  Vycor refused to let her go. He knew she was the only thing keeping him alive. But he switched his focus to Ty to protect himself.

  Ty contained him and went in search of Kyr. She had retreated to a far corner of her mind, trying to escape the atrocities being done to her. He sensed she was valiantly trying to protect not just him, but all of Alametria. She felt abandoned and alone.

  I’m with you, Kyr. I love you.

  “What the hell is wrong with you people?” Sem’s outraged voice echoed around the Ritual Chamber, the words reaching Ty but not impacting his concentration. “Look at what you let Advisor Vycor do to Ma’jah Kyr. You all just sat there while he brutalized her? What kind of savages have you become? Someone get me the keys to these restraints. Now!”

  Ty …

  Following Kyr’s faint thought, Ty delved deeper into her mind. Please come back to me, Kyr.

  “You—you’re her parents, for the love of Yen-Ki,” Sem spat, obviously towards the Guardians. “You’re supposed to have her best interests at heart. Look at her. Look at your daughter. Are you satisfied at the amount of suffering she’s endured? Or are you seeking more blood and torture?”

  I’m here, Ty.

  He found her at last, a fading glow that drew him like a candle. I’m here, love. I won’t let anything else happen to you.

  “You all claimed to believe in Ma’jah Kyr and what she means to Alametria,” Sem continued. “Her entire life, you treated her like a future savior. Now look at what you’ve done to the hope for our people.”

  The sound of weeping came from the crowd. Remorse and shame radiated throughout the room. Ty knew Kyr heard it, felt it. She slowly emerged from her hiding place.

  Together, we’ll defeat him, Ty assured her.

  He felt her gathering her strength. No, Ty. I have to defeat him myself. You’ve given me the strength I need to do it. I love you.

  And before he could argue, he was blasted from her mind. He would have fallen if he hadn’t held onto the altar. As it was, Sem had to grab him by his arm to keep him up.

  They both looked at the ground where Vycor was slowly getting to his feet. Kyr had succeeded in freeing herself from him.

  Ty started towards him, but was distracted when Kyr opened her eyes. Everyone gasped. Her eyes glowed so bright that everyone turned away. Everyone but Ty.

  He knew what had happened. He felt it in every fiber of his being.

  Kyr had Ascended.

  Oh, Kyr. You’re magnificent.

  She turned her gaze to him and smiled. The bright light slowly ebbed until her eyes closed. He knew she had passed out.

  Renewed anger turned his attention back to Vycor. Ty was ready to kill the bastard now.

  I am not the only one who knows about your relationship, Vycor thought quickly, just before Ty attacked. His maniacal gaze met Ty’s. Yes, I heard her tell you that she loves you, and I heard you just now in her mind. If you kill me, I have given orders that the truth be revealed to everyone.

  Ty forced himself to bank his fury, though he could almost taste it. He felt the truth behind the Advisor’s words. Who had he told? Could his relationship with Kyr stand the outcry that would result once it was revealed?

  Could he risk losing her?

  Knowing he once again had Ty where he wanted him, Vycor turned to address the crowd. Ty realized that everyone was looking at the Advisor with fear and abhorrence, and he was sure Vycor saw that, too.

  “Good people, thank you so much for participating in this momentous occasion,” Vycor shouted, making sure his voice was heard by everyone. “I could not share the specifics of this with anyone, knowing Dem-Shyr TaeDane is capable of reading all thoughts. But, you see, this has been a test for the Dem-Shyr, and he has just passed.”

  Everyone
stared at him in stupefaction, including Ty. Were they all buying this crap? Sem lifted an eyebrow and met Ty’s gaze. Shaking his head, Ty reached for Kyr.

  Go get HemmelRowe and bring him to Ma’jah Kyr’s chambers, he sent to Gren, who left without a word.

  “In light of the fact that Dem-Shyr TaeDane is protecting Alametria’s most precious asset,” Vycor continued, “we had to make sure that he was capable of rescuing her from even the most dire circumstances. Today, he has recovered from a near-fatal attack, escaped from a locked cell, and freed Ma’jah Kyr’s mind from intrusion. There is no one else more qualified to care for her than Dem-Shyr TaeDane.”

  A cheer rose from the crowd, making Ty pause in the doorway and look back. The Guardians sat without moving, both of them pale and shaken. Their gazes moved from Vycor to Ty, who was already covered in Kyr’s blood.

  I will bring her back to her chambers for treatment, he thought towards them.

  But even as he turned to leave, he knew they wouldn’t follow.

  Chapter 38

  Kyr woke to the sound of rain striking a windowpane. It was soothing and rhythmic, making her think of lazy rainy Saturdays when she and Avana would hole up in their pajamas, watch chick-flicks, and eat too much ice cream. For a short while, anyway, they didn’t have to think about projects and exams, how to get guys to notice them, and what their futures held.

  Trying to get guys to notice you, hmm?

  Ty’s thought ran through her mind, making her smile. Her eyes eased open. She was in her bed chambers. Ty sat beside her, his legs sprawled in front of him on the mattress, his back propped against the headboard. He held her hand beside his thigh. His eyes were closed, but they opened when she looked at him.

  Hey there, handsome, she thought.

  Relief lit his fatigued gaze. He brought her hand up to his lips. Hello, love. It’s good to have you back.

  She looked around and saw that they were alone. The sky, which she had finally remembered never got fully dark, was bright enough to make her think it was morning.

  Her gaze shifted down to her body. She wasn’t surprised that the blood-stained gown was gone. There was no way the Wrym would have let her stay in that. Hell, even her hair and teeth felt clean, and she didn’t want to know how they’d accomplished that. In place of the dress, she wore a lavender nightgown and robe.

 

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