Realm Book Three - Illuminated Death

by K. A. M'Lady

  “What is it you want, Lucien?” I whispered, aware that Jade still slept beside me. I was still physically and mentally exhausted, unsure of what had happened since my return and I had things I needed to discuss with Prism. This conversation with Lucien was the last thing I needed right now. He’d obviously come here for a reason, and if it wasn’t to seduce me or to help me get Kieran and the others free from Jirvel, then he had an awful lot of explaining to do.

  “I want a great many things, Rihker,” he remarked, the points of his canines showing ever so slightly as he smiled a sinful grin. I was quite certain that Lucien could charm the wings off an angel if he wanted to. “For now, however, I will settle for this: Jirvel has ownership of something that is mine, and I want it back.”

  “And what does this have to do with me?” I asked the wheels of intrigue churning. What could Jirvel possess that would be important enough for Lucien to want make a deal with me? What could be important enough for him to press my will, knowing Kieran and the others were in harm’s way and I was pissed as hell already? Knowing too that Gimlit already yearned for his death for the mere transgression of spilling a few droplets of my blood? And, more importantly, how is his pathetic past tied to my present and my future, for that matter? Oh, so many questions.

  “You’re going to get it for me?”

  And the madness unfolds, I thought, gazing into the cool, aloofness of his perfectly beautiful blue eyes. I studied the angles of his face: the strength of his chin, the bow of his soft, luscious lips. Still I pondered what could be so all important that would turn him against Jirvel? Then I wondered what was in it for me?

  “What do I get in return for retrieving this thing from Jirvel for you?” I watched the way the light and shadows danced over his eyes, sparkling with mischievous intent at the game of words we played. He knew whatever I was after was going to cost much and be no easy feat to obtain. Hell, it likely wasn’t obtainable at all.

  His smile never changed, the expression only growing darker and, it seemed, I could see down deep into the endless black void some might presume his soul once resided. Only, Lucien’s was an oblique pit, an oil-slicked well of false Light and trailing shadows. In that well languished the screams of the dying; beleaguered voices empty of hope, calling out in the darkened cavity that was Lucien’s personal hell. A hollow hole completely void of his soul.

  “Freedom,” he whispered. Each syllable danced across my flesh as though a tiny cherub burned its toes on the coals of smoldering possibilities. “Freedom, for you and yours. Freedom for us all. I believe it is a fair trade.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  “There is no refusal, Rihker Tennai, Rihker of the Forest, our great Chosen,” he said, standing in a flourish of glimmering darkness. “Only suffering. Suffering and Darkness to be had by all.” In silent contemplation I watched his flesh slough off in a haze of blackness then Lucien vanished like dark mist.

  “Suffering there might be, Death Stalker,” I told the empty chair. “But we’ll see how brightly the Light burns in Hell.”

  The door to my bedroom burst open, Gimlit slamming his way inside, sword outstretched and gleaming before him. His turquoise eyes were enflamed with a dark rage I had never seen before and never wanted to see again. Jade came up out of the blankets so quickly, the metamorphosis halfway into his wolf was shocking. His claws were immediately extending from his fingers, the muzzle of his beast protruding from his face. A growl, deep and fierce, reverberated through the room.

  “I smell Death Stalker and the slough of Shadows,” Jade stated, his voice heavy with snarl. It was strange to hear him speak in his partially changed state.

  “I know that Lucien was here, for his essence lingers like doom,” Gimlit stated. “My question is, ‘What was he doing here?’ And, maybe more importantly, ‘Why did he come seeking a private audience?’” Gimlit moved into the room, his back to the bed, body tense and battle ready, looked everywhere at once.

  Jet, Prism and surprisingly, a very obviously weakened and pale Mercy had all made their way to my bedroom with the commotion. Each of them carried their own battle wariness. Jet’s hackles were clearly raised. But there was something in the way Jet and Mercy watched Jade with fearsome, hesitant eyes that struck me. Seeing him, as if for the first time. When their eyes trailed to me, then back to Jade’s clawed fingers, my mind tried to place the pieces of yet one more bloody puzzle together.

  The taste of worry and fear rode the air. Clung to the others like most wear battle scars. I knew that all of us had secrets and bore wounds. That they ran deep; stories not fully shared and that we bandaged our bloody wounds until they seemed to seep inside of us where we thought no one could see them. I had no problem with it. We all had our own crosses to bear. In due time they would share their stories, when they were ready. But with Jade’s quick maneuvers and metamorphosis, he’d pulled the blankets clean off me and I now lay nude against my pillow, my body fully exposed to everyone’s view.

  Maybe their worry stemmed from this first encounter and the realization that Jade was more powerful than he had been letting on. And, since they were just now seeing his true Alpha abilities for themselves and not being foretold of it, they were obviously having some reservations.

  However, that didn’t explain the bitter taste of dread that clung to them. Or the trail of worry that lingered on my tongue like bad meat. Nor did it explain the apprehension in their eyes as they continued to gaze from his clawed fingers to my…

  My eyes found Prism at the end of my bed and suddenly my own horrific memories washed over me. I was vividly drowning in a sea of repressed Darkness. The same repulsive, vile nightmare that I’d struggled to forever forget. It was Modgav and his tortures, and my own disquieting fears coursing through my veins like liquid fire fed by hatred and fear. But then the Darkness recognized me as its own, wrapped itself around me and slowly soothed my fright. And the fear was suddenly washed away.

  Almost immediately I found my breath. The Darkness slowly, quietly, receded. It seemed a strange settling in the pit of my stomach, somehow frighteningly scary and yet very reassuring. I vaguely wondered if, for the first time in my life, my body and soul understood and accepted a part of who and what I truly was.

  I realized that Prism had taken me on a journey. One I had never wanted to relive again as long as I lived. But apparently it had been one that, unfortunately, was a necessary evil. And, it seemed, with this surge of memories came the return of darker vengeances. Hatreds more vile and greater wishes for death, but so too came an understanding. Understanding of what I was. Who I was.

  Yes, the memories came. The dark thoughts too, and with them the return of scars I’d long thought hidden beneath layers and layers of forgetfulness. Forgetfulness and an inborn glamour spun so thickly that even I didn’t recall weaving its gossamer web.

  I guess the Light does shine in the Darkness, at least for this Pixie.

  Strange how the mind works. Not to mention the gifts given by the Prophets. I’d used my one insignificant gift of glamour that all Pixies, no matter how diluted the blood, are given, to hide my wounds. All of my wounds—both physical and mental.

  I’d hidden them away so well that I’d forgotten how I had come to be. Hidden them so deeply within me that I didn’t recall what gifts I’d been truly granted first. And make no doubt it was a gift—this Darkness. For it had helped me to survive all those years ago.

  It was something I’d never forget again. Something I would never let anyone take from me again. This, it seemed, was just as much a part of me as breathing. And it was time that I accepted it.

  For the first time in my life I wanted to stand up and yell for the whole world to hear, “I am Rihker Tennai, Daughter of Light and yes, daughter of Darkness.”

  In that moment I more than knew—I understood—that the two houses that made up the balance of the known world resided inside of me. Dwelled within me, filled me up and made me whole.

  I swore to myself that f
rom this moment until the next my enemies could cross me at their peril. That those who weren’t against me could join with me and together we’d warm ourselves by the glowing Light at shadows end.

  Chapter Five

  Tuesday, basket full of black,

  How did you charm me –

  with the hair of a mad wolf

  From Charms for Love – Anonymous

  Translated from the Romanian by Fiona Sampson

  I could feel the grin, mad-capped and toothy, stretch across my face and somehow, I was loathe to stop it. I suddenly felt like a mad-hatter, late for an afternoon murder, yet delightfully filled with an abundance of Dark glee. I think, quite possibly, crimson tea and muscled fritters should have been scheduled; we could spear the heads of our enemies, set them afire—light up the night.

  I caught a knowing look in Prism’s multi-colored, swirling eyes and knew my inner happy dance of self-awareness needed to be stifled. If not dousing the flame of Darkness, then there seemed a definite need to turn up the Light. There was business to attend to: a wayward family to rescue, a Werepanther and a Vampire to soothe, and one White Bitch with Teeth to pulverize.

  “Care to share your wayward pleasures, Mistress?” Gimlit asked. His brow furrowed with his telltale concern for me, head tilting as he attempted to catch on to my inner delights.

  “Sorry, Gim. Just thinking.”

  “Darkness and death fill your thoughts. I see it dancing in the crimson pools of your eyes. Please, tell us.” He sheathed his sword, the obvious need for murder seeming to pass since there were no Death Stalkers or Others in the room worth mutilating. At least the urge being tampered for the moment. Hallows Eve was fast approaching. I was certain we’d have plenty of Witches, bitches, and Others to burn, but enough about my bubbling brou-ha-ha. Seems I needed to get the others up to my speed and explain my madness.

  “Well, it’s a bit convoluted,” I said, looking from Gimlit to Jade and then to the others before my eyes met Prism’s once again. She turned towards Gimlit. His rich turquoise eyes seeming to bore a hole straight through her head as if he could pluck the information he sought from its source. Somehow knowing that my small bit of sinister happiness in this odd moment of Darkness was the Changeling’s doing.

  She briefly nodded. It was the barest of movements; her long, shimmering, multi-faceted hair seemed to sigh. From that mere movement, it was as though the whole of my Ogre settled all at once. His large frame released a tenseness I hadn’t known he’d been holding until I watched it escape him like a breath of despair held too long in a chest filled with worry.

  “It would seem,” he stated, looking at those gathered around us, their own tenseness and woes clinging to their lips like an off-pitch hum, “that you’ve the time and the audience.”

  Uncertainty suddenly seemed to fill me. Was I about to do the right thing? What if, by showing them, sharing with them, I repulsed them? Turned them from me when I needed them most?

  “Your path is before you, Rihker,” Prism quietly stated, picking my unspoken words from my mind. “Now, you must choose for yourself if you wish to walk it. Their journey will be for them to choose.”

  I could feel Prism’s Light, ever so subtly, burning within her. Felt it, as though I could reach out through the stain of my Darkness and touch it. Hold it in my hands and garner strength from its warmth. Her Light burned brightly, for she was a kindred spirit with my own. Yet my Light was veiled in a cloak of inky Darkness. Shadowed by a Realm that I walked upon its ledges. Still, her words rang true in my mind. Settled in the pit of my soul like a foregone conclusion. An answer to a puzzle solved at the moment of my conception.

  I couldn’t help but consider how the Prophets must have smiled at their own absurdity; their macabre and intricately masterful plan. I too was but a pawn in this well-crafted game. If I wished to survive and survive well, it was time I started accepting who I was. And to do so, those around me needed to know my truth.

  I crawled slowly to my knees, my nakedness freely revealed. Taking the talon-like claws of Jade’s fingers in my hand, I turned them towards my flesh, watching with interest as Jet and Mercy visibly tensed. Unspoken words clung to Jet’s lips, terror visibly caught in her throat. The horrible need to stop me flashed across her eyes before passing into uncertainty and fear of the unknown. It was an uncertainty I’d never seen her express before as her fear rode her brow in rivulets of perspiration.

  Mercy simply clung to the edge of a precipice. Teetered on its border and waited for the ground to give way. To consume her. The anger and hard-edged hatred that she normally wore like a shield of armor escaping her. She must have been feeling very weak indeed to not make some snide comment; her run-in with Modgav truly taking its toll.

  Yet, somehow, despite that I could see and feel all of their misgivings, taste them on my tongue like sour candy or spoiled milk, I knew what I had to do. In spite of my own uncertainties and worries of the hours and days to come, I knew I had to share my Darkness with them. All of them. If I hoped for them to understand.

  It meant I would have to re-walk my memory’s dark mile. Meant that if I ever hoped to have them stand beside me, to know my motives and to trust me with their lives, then I had to show them what I had lived through and how I had survived.

  They would need to see where my pain had held me. Feel what purpose now drove me, and—so that they never blamed Jade for horrors he did not commit—realize that he was not responsible for dark wounds I would no longer hide. And instead, come to knew exactly who was. So, I did the only thing my instinct told me. The only thing I knew they would comprehend. It is the one thing every creature of the Other World understands: I shared my blood, my memories and my pain.

  In a movement too quick for Jade or any of the others to react to, I took Jade’s clawed fingers, opened myself to my she-wolf, tore open the doorway to my Darkness, and slashed Jade’s razor-sharp claws across the scars of my belly, re-opening the wound that Modgav’s whip had caused all those years ago.

  Jade’s horrified scream echoed my own, his arm tensing, steel-like, while he tried desperately to pull away. Surprisingly, his Werewolf was no match for the strength of my Darkness. Darkness combined with the strength of an Alpha female, the unmoving resolution of a Pixie, the determination of a human and beyond that, the glimmering of so much more. It was the more that tightened my stomach, caused me to release Jade’s hand, but it was too late. The floodgates of my memories were open, and all who stood in their wake felt the first dark wave in a mind-blowing rush.

  Impossibly, the room filled a torrent of wind. The wind of my dark memories. It came on so quickly that it blew everyone who stood beside the bed back three steps before they garnered their balance, preparing for the next onslaught. Unexpectedly, my senses filled with the lush scent of fresh turned earth, the lingering haze of meadow; pine, elm and ash drenching me in their lavish fauna. The floral of moss and heather followed; new growth and fresh turned earth filling my mind and my soul.

  I felt the pulse of the moon. The waning and waxing as it spiked through my blood and knew the precise moment the hackles of my she-wolf rose. The musk of fur, sandalwood, bayberry, and the subtle richness of flesh poured over me while the scents of those around me swarmed my senses.

  It took everything I had not to shudder, to stagger from the overload. Vaguely I wondered if they too felt the world exploded with life. Smelled its brilliance as I did. One look into Mercy’s blazing eyes and I knew my answer. Her face paled, if that were even possible for a Vampire. Her shoulders grew rigid as she too struggled with her senses. And then, the taint of copper, the stain of old blood flowed over me like a cascading river, or a well of despair that forced my lids closed once more.

  My nostrils flared, trying to catch its wayward course of direction. But, before my mind could latch on to the blood trail, the wind shifted, settled, the scent suddenly gone.

  Once again I opened my eyes and this time my mind was filled with memories. Dark, morbid Gobl
in memories. All of them horrible.

  The rush of measured gasps went round the room as each person gathered lived a new horror. My horrors. My past. I watched silently while they bore witness to my history, each one fighting the urge to change, to fight back, either for themselves or in my honor, I wasn’t sure which. Slowly the trudge through the murky depths of sludge and Darkness began to dissipate. Hearts seeming to steady. Breath finally beginning to slow before cantering to even breathing.

  I stood, saying nothing, a mystic witness, while the Light and life visibly returned to each of them.

  Mercy bowed her head in reverence.

  “You’ve already my heart and soul,” Jade whispered, taking my hand in his. “And now I pledge thee my life.” He too then bowed before me.

  Gimlit needed no words between us. His turquoise eyes blazed with love. Devotion. And yet he stated, “I have loved you from an infant child. Whether in the Light or in the Darkness, my sword and I go with you. Wherever you have need.”

  I looked at Prism, standing stoically. A golden, mystical glow formed all around her; brilliant. A swirl of colors illuminated her, each one vivid and radiant like her name. I could feel the Light and love permeating from her while it flowed from her heart to mine. I didn’t understand what I had done to deserve the feelings emanating from her, but the peace that filled me made it all seem worthwhile.

  Regally she knelt before me and I knew without words that whatever her pledge, it was no small affair. Softly, almost a hum of the very whisper of life, she spoke in a dialect I’d never known or heard spoken before and yet, I understood her every word. Each phrase and every syllable reverberated through my flesh. Danced on my bones and the vessels of my blood before it settled serenely like a lost piece of my soul.

  “I have served Kings and Queens,” she softly stated. “Danced in the Darkness with Demons and laughed in the Light with Saints and Angels. All of this, a thousand years and more before your birth. I have walked the Shadow Lands, the Everafter and all of the possibilities in between.” She paused, each one of us clinging to her every word. My heart pulsed in my throat as I waited for her to continue. The very air around us seemed to pause in wait for her to continue.