“You seriously think we’re going to let you wander off into the wasteland alone?” said Ryan. “The Death King would kill you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Careful or I might start to think you care if I live or die.”
Ryan made a sceptical noise. “Look, I know the Death King wants the elves’ help, and I know you want to learn more about your history, too. I bet if we head back to the castle, you’ll sneak off at the first opportunity anyway.”
Hmm. They had a point. “If we’re going to look around the ruins, then I have to check in with Miles first. He’ll be ticked off if we go without him.”
“You mean in Elysium?” said Ryan. “You want to get that close to the Houses?”
“The Houses are pretty much in ruins after the battle,” I reminded them. “The Death King wants me to go back and talk to them, too, but I’ll deal with that later.”
Ryan gave me an assessing look. “Did he tell you to go to the Houses today, instead of speaking to the elves?”
“No, he expects me to be in two places at once,” I said. “Also, last time I went to the House of Fire, I ended up in a cell. Twice. The Death King is seriously overestimating my skills at negotiation. Anyway, Miles and the Spirit Agents live in Elysium, so they’ll know if the Houses are up and running and if any of those lethal cantrips might still be in the area.”
“I’d prefer not to take any detours,” said Ryan. “Especially if you expect us to stand outside while you convince your friend Miles to let you risk your neck… or if you two otherwise get distracted.”
I gave an eye-roll. “You two can get a head start on walking to the ruins, then. It’s a long way if you don’t have a transporter spell. Which I do, but I can’t use it on all of us at once. I’ll catch you up. Give it half an hour.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” said Ryan.
Really, I was doing them a favour. Ryan and Trix would get to spend some quality time together while they walked, and I’d get to talk to Miles face to face for a few minutes without any pesky astral projection getting in our way. Whatever Ryan said, we wouldn’t get to do much more than talk, especially with the number of Spirit Agents running around their house.
To start off with, we used the nearest node to transport ourselves into the city of Elysium, and parted ways near the Spirit Agents’ house. The house itself was pretty swanky, with whitewashed walls and a neat, wide garden. It’d once belonged to a vampire and was consequently nicer than almost any house I’d been to in the Parallel. Those perks didn’t come without a cost, though. Most spirit mages were estranged from their families, and since there was no House of Spirit like the other four Houses, the spirit mages had to group together for their own survival. Miles’s own family was imprisoned in the Houses’ jail for angering the wrong person, so he knew first-hand how keen they were to punish mages for the slightest perceived transgression. Yet the Houses were the one thing standing between the Family and domination over one of the Parallel’s major cities. I knew why the Death King would prefer to make a deal with the Houses before that became an issue, but he might have picked a negotiator who wasn’t intimately acquainted with the inside of their jail.
Miles answered the door when I knocked. “Hey, Bria.”
“Hey.” My heart lifted despite myself at the sight of him in person and not the monochrome transparency of astral projection. “No trouble in Elysium at the moment?”
“None that I’ve seen.” He ran a hand through his straw-coloured hair. “Did the Death King send you to speak to the Houses, by any chance?”
“Yes, but I’d prefer to avoid a face-to-face meeting,” I said. “How’re they getting on, do you know?”
“The guards aren’t coming outside much,” he said. “They lost around a quarter of their members, and I’m surprised it wasn’t worse.”
“Damn,” I said. “Sure the survivors aren’t working with the rogue spirit mages?”
“No, unfortunately,” he said. “I’m not as optimistic as the Death King that they’d be willing to work with you. Maybe he thinks the recent trouble might have changed their attitudes towards you.”
“Considering I was at the centre of said trouble, I doubt it,” I said. “Anyway, I have another dangerous trip I need to take today. Want to come?”
He cocked a brow. “Where to?”
“The town I grew up in.” I gave a quick summary of what I’d learned from Trix’s elf friend.
“You want to dig around in a pile of ruins to find a petrified tree carving?” he said.
“You don’t have to come,” I said. “Ryan and Trix insisted on joining me so I already have company.”
His brow wrinkled. “What’s in it for them?”
“Trix is an elf, so he’ll know how to recognise this tree carving if I find it. Ryan thinks the Death King will be furious if I end up dying out there, so they volunteered to supervise me.”
“How nice of them.” Miles leaned towards me. “I have a better reason for coming, though. I like you.”
My heart gave a flutter. “Like in what way?”
He kissed me in answer. “Like this.”
I kissed him back, wishing I could always feel as grounded as I did when his arms were wrapped around me. While we’d mutually agreed to ignore the myriad reasons that getting involved with one another was a bad idea at best, we had yet to discuss the future of our burgeoning relationship. I knew developing feelings for anyone was dangerous as hell right now, but it wasn’t like I had any control over where my heart lay, and it’d firmly planted its roots here in Miles’s arms.
If we ran into the Family out there in the wilderness, though… I’d feel responsible for bringing him into danger with me. “Want to astral project? Ryan and Trix already have a head start on us already, and there aren’t many nodes out there in the ruins.”
His brow furrowed. “I doubt being transparent would deter a phantom from coming after me.”
“Believe me, it’s not the phantoms I’m concerned about,” I said. “The more of us there are, the more likely we are to be caught by the Family, and… and I can’t lose anyone else.”
Tay’s face came to mind as it always did, and Miles’s expression softened in understanding. “Okay. I’ll astral project.” He gave me another hug and kiss, then backed down the hallway of the house. “I’ll tell the others, then I’ll catch you up.”
“Sure.” I waved him off and left the Spirit Agents’ house, walking to the node. It didn’t take longer than a minute before Miles caught up to me, transparent again, and we left for the town in which I’d spent my earliest memories.
3
Once we emerged from the node at the northern point of the city, I broke into a sprint while Miles floated alongside me. Soon enough, we caught up to Trix and Ryan in the wilderness which comprised the main part of the Parallel, where the city’s outskirts became barren ground littered with debris. Even Trix couldn’t think of anything positive to say about our surroundings, and his usual optimism faded with each pile of rubble we passed. I deliberately steered our path as far as possible from the ruins of the Family’s estate, using the pillar-like shape of the citadel as a guiding light to keep us on the right path.
Within minutes, we found ourselves surrounded by gutted buildings, formed of chunks of metal and wood and stone, and despite the absence of humanity, very little plant life aside from a few pernicious weeds rooted in the soil. The magic which had scorched the town to ruins had left few chances for life to spring up again.
“Keep an eye out for revenants,” said Miles.
“Revenants are child’s play,” came Ryan’s response. “Same with phantoms.”
I had to agree. The Family were more dangerous than any other threat that might leap out of the ruins to feed on our blood or life force. They’d hidden a warehouse over by the citadel to manufacture illegal cantrips, so they’d definitely ventured into the town’s ruins before, even if they’d then gone on to abandon said warehouse and leave their unpaid employees
to face a grim death. But if I needed to get my hands on an Akrith in order to gain the elves’ respect, then I had nowhere else to look except here. Unless I wanted to risk trespassing inside the Family’s house, of course, but if I got caught, Tay wasn’t around to save me this time.
A familiar wave of grief hit me at the thought of my former best friend, and I did my best to push it away as I walked through the dirt roads winding between ruined houses, Miles floating at my side. The others followed close behind, Trix lithely treading among the debris while Ryan steamrollered through without a care for how much noise they made. It wasn’t like we’d be able to hide from a wyrm in flight regardless of how quiet we were, so I kept an eye on the skies as we walked on. Trix had the useful ability to make the wyrm obey his commands, of course, but if the creature brought the Family along with it, then it would become much more dangerous.
A stone tumbled from the nearest pile of rubble into the street, and the pale face of a revenant surfaced. Hairless and ugly as their vampire cousins were pretty, revenants fed on the energy from the nodes rather than drinking blood. Ryan raised their hands and blasted air magic at the revenant, blowing a torrent of debris into the air which exposed two more of them crouching in the shadows. I shot a fireball which disintegrated their fragile bones in an instant.
“Let’s move.” Hoping nobody had seen the flash of fiery light, I took the lead through the ruins towards the towering shape of the citadel. I hoped last night’s dream had been accurate, or I’d have had a hell of a time finding the right house to search. Unless it had just been a dream… but it’d felt real enough I could still taste the ashes on my tongue.
I stepped around the crumbled wall of what might have once been a large garden, catching sight of scorch marks on the stone which hadn’t come from my own flames. “This can’t all have been the work of an inferno cantrip. There wouldn’t be anything left.”
“What makes you think it was an inferno cantrip that did this?” said Ryan.
“In my last memory of the town, it was on fire,” I explained. “Also, Trix told me some kind of magic similar to the inferno cantrips wiped out the elves’ strongholds, so it makes sense that they’d have been used on places like this as well.”
Trix’s eyes widened with horror. “How did you escape?”
“The Family took me away and left the others to burn, I assume,” I said in bitter tones. “I think I was around three or four when I went to live with them, but it’s not like they wanted me to remember my life beforehand.”
“There’s nothing left of this place,” he said softly. “I doubt anyone else remembers.”
My gut clenched. “I know. The citadel is the only building left intact, and I guess that’s because the spirit mages built it.”
“The spirit mages didn’t build it,” he said. “The elves did.”
My heart missed a beat. “The elves built the citadel? Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” Trix said. “It’s not well-known, but my dad told me himself, before he died of a sickness when I was a child. None of our strongholds are still standing, but they used to look quite similar.”
I didn’t know what to say. The citadels had stood here for hundreds of years and dated back to the first inhabitants of the Parallel itself. For that reason, I’d always assumed the spirit mages had been the ones who’d created them—there was no disputing that they’d created the Parallel, after all—but given what the mages had taken from the elves already, who was I to assume they hadn’t also taken credit for their creations?
I glanced at Miles and saw my own concern and shock mirrored on his face. He hadn’t known either. Nor had Ryan, though their attention was on our surroundings. The street we stood on was wide open, exposed, and a chill breeze blew light pieces of debris across the barren ground. The citadel drew my gaze, its obsidian walls stark against the grey surroundings. Of all the different beings in the Parallel, the elves were the longest-lived aside from the vampires, so it made sense that they’d built their own monuments. Their extended lifespans hadn’t prevented them from being almost wiped out in the war, though, and it seemed the spirit mages’ last action against them had been to erase their most lasting achievements.
A flicker of movement stirred in the corner of my eye and a ghostly figure floated into my peripheral vision. Not a human, but a phantom, the closest to genuine ghosts the Parallel had to offer. “We have company.”
Ryan raised their hands. “I’ll get rid of it.”
Air magic blasted into the phantom, knocking over a pile of debris but not leaving a mark on the transparent beast. Miles moved in to finish it off, his hands aglow with spirit magic, but my firepower couldn’t permanently get rid of something which had no physical form.
I took a few steps forward and swore under my breath. More phantoms hovered among the ruins ahead, drifting onto the road, and there was no way to get any closer to the citadel without walking right through their midst.
“Go on, move.” Ryan advanced on them, hands splayed and a whirlwind dancing between their palms. “You have three seconds to run.”
“I don’t think they can understand you,” said Trix.
“Get lost.” Miles blasted spirit magic into the road ahead. The phantoms drifted to either side to avoid being hit, moving with quiet rustling sounds which seemed almost like whispers.
With the road clear, I ran ahead and paused at the end of the street to figure out my proximity to the citadel. From its position, I’d almost reached the area I’d been to in my dream. I picked up the pace, abandoning caution and taking on my elven speed as I turned down a side street and found myself faced with another wall of phantoms. They stood there, a silent barrier of flickering transparent shapes. “Go away.”
They didn’t move. I backed up a step, prepared to shortcut through the ruined houses if I had to, and the whispering sound resolved into something that sounded almost like words. Or one word, repeated over and over again. Bria.
I shook my head fiercely. I couldn’t have heard my name from one of those creatures. They couldn’t speak. Or so I thought.
Bria. The whisper sounded again, louder and clearer this time. Bria.
“What do you want with me?” I turned around to look for Miles and the others, but in my swift stride, I’d left them a couple of streets back. The phantoms drifted closer, surrounding me in a fog of icy cold which bit into the very marrow of my bones. Fire sprang to my hands, but even their heat didn’t dispel the chill. Nor did the whispers fade, the sound of my own name spoken from mouths without tongues, voices without names.
Thoroughly spooked, I backed down the road and retraced my steps, but the whispers tailed me, relentless. I broke into a run, as though I could outpace the sound of a disembodied whisper which might as well have come from within my own mind.
A looming phantom cut off my path and I veered off the road and among the ruins, leaping from one pile of crumbled stone to the next. My foot struck something hard, and I tumbled head over heels into a heap of stone. Wincing, I straightened upright to find the citadel looming closer than ever.
I hopped from the pile of stones onto a bare patch of ground and I tilted my head at the citadel to get the angle right. My home, assuming that was where my dream had begun, was buried in this very street, but each side of the road resembled a wall of rubble from which distinguishing individual houses seemed impossible. Struggling to retrace the frantic steps of my dream, I picked my way through the ruins, already wondering how in the world I’d expected to find anything in here. Footsteps sounded nearby, the crunch of broken glass, and I raised my head.
“Hey!” Ryan’s air magic slammed into the ruined wall of stone, driving a chunk of debris into the air.
I climbed upright, shielding myself from the dust with an arm. “Whoa. It’s just me.”
“Don’t run off like that,” Miles reprimanded, floating into view behind Ryan. “Bloody phantoms… is this the place?”
“I think it is, but I can’t find
anything in this mess.” Glass and bits of broken furniture lay buried beneath pieces of stone too heavy to lift, even if my hands hadn’t been shaking from my encounter with the phantoms.
I’d never heard of them knowing someone’s name before. What if they were more than just echoes of the dead? What if they were the ghosts of those who’d perished in this very town? Did they remember who they’d been beforehand?
Miles floated down to hover at my side. “What am I looking for?”
“It looks like a petrified tree carving,” I said. “Trix, is there a way you can track it down which doesn’t involve lifting every stone in the street?”
“I know how to recognise one.” Trix lithely climbed down the slope of stone wall beside me and picked his way forward with easy grace. Ryan followed close behind, not being nearly as careful, but I could hardly reprimand them for wrecking my house when it was already a pile of rubble.
What was I thinking? The place might have already been looted if it contained anything valuable, though even a thief would be hard-pressed to navigate this mess. I suppressed a sigh, coughing on dust, and kept an eye on the citadel in an attempt to find the right house. Or heap of rubble.
A glow caught my eyes, signalling the phantom’s return. Or rather, one lone phantom, floating above the nearby wreckage. I waved an impatient hand at it. “Shoo. I used to live here, you know. I have more of a right to be here than you do.”
The phantom didn’t move, but it didn’t attack me either. I kept walking down the street, suppressing a shiver at the memory of the chorus of creepy voices tailing me. Phantoms might be ghosts, but they’d never really scared me before. I lived in a castle inhabited by liches, for the Elements’ sakes. I’d never sleep at night if I feared the dead.
Doing my best to ignore my disembodied companion, I resumed my search. The phantom watched as I did so—though it didn’t have eyes, so that was only an assumption—but I made no headway, unearthing nothing of note among the ruins.
Finally, I folded my arms and faced the phantom. “Did you live here, too? Is that why you’re hanging around?”
Tower of Fire (Parallel Magic Book 3) Page 3
