Everlasting

by Candace Knoebel

  I run my hand along one of the daggers that doesn’t feel anything like a flux. A shadow seems to pass over the blade as I touch it. “What is this?” I ask, entranced by it.

  “A Shadowblade,” Weldon says. “Unlike stabbing a Demon in its stigma and sending it back to Hell, this is used to kill a Demon permanently. They’re extremely hard to come by since they’re crafted by Angels, and we don’t necessarily have them on speed dial. There are only ten that we know of. Mack was somehow lucky enough to come across one.”

  “A perk of being a wise Elder who has a knack for collecting things,” Mack says, rocking on his toes and heels and smiling like someone showing off a figurine collection.

  “Can we use it?” I ask, pulling it off the rack without permission. It’s too pretty not to. The dagger’s round rather than flat, and the hilt sparkles as if made from diamond. With every movement, shadows seem to swirl inside of the blade.

  Mack carefully takes it from my hands. “This, I’m afraid, is too dangerous for the lot of you. Every Demon it’s ever killed resides within this dagger. If it fell in the wrong hands, we’d be that much more in danger.” He delicately puts it back. “But anything else in here is of use.” I settle on a hand gun and an extra flux. Gavin and Jaxen, however, fill a duffel bag each, while Jezi and Cassie grab three out of five bags hanging up on the wall.

  “What are those?” I ask in awe. The fabric is light blue and woven like thick cloth, only it has a diaphanous quality to it.

  “They’re bags made from phantom cloth,” Cassie explains as she opens the top of her bag. “It’s woven by Banshees we’ve trapped.”

  “Banshees, right…” I say, my mind reeling back to an old Irish folktale I had read.

  Cassie reaches for the vials of holy water, while Jezi shoves a bag into my chest. “Here. Put your things in here.”

  “The bags are woven and imbibed with a Banshees’ essence,” Cassie says, putting cans of salt in it now.

  “That’s gross,” I say, feeling like a kid in a candy shop as I decide what to take with me.

  “And just so you know, its depth can hold more than the average bag.” She demonstrates by shoving a sawed-off shot gun into it. It disappears into the bag. “Also, when you put it on, it becomes transparent and weightless. You won’t even realize it’s on. It hangs between our plane and the plane Banshees dwell in.”

  I look down at my bag, trying not to see the minuscule stains of blood on the material, and grab everything that Cassie grabs. When we finish packing and storing everything we think we need, Mack hands me a map.

  “What’s this?”

  “A map to the cavern the Dagger is in. Just be on guard and alert. The dangers that await you have yet to been seen.”

  I take it, memorizing every last detail before shoving it in my bag.

  “It’s not too late to join us,” Weldon says, quirking up a knowing brow.

  “I…I must remain here,” Mack quickly replies.

  “Of course you do. You always do,” Weldon retorts. “Brother.” The word sounds like an insult. There’s a flicker of bitterness in his golden eyes.

  Mack looks away from him. “Travel safe, and remember, in darkness we must be the light.” He walks past me and pats Jaxen and Gavin on the back, and then leaves the room, sitting blindly at his table.

  “Let’s go,” Weldon says, shouldering past everyone. I look over at Jaxen. His smile’s sad. It hurts him to see his friend hurting. It’s the same way I feel about Katie.

  We walk back over to the shadow and wait for Weldon. “You have to hold on to each other in order for this to work. I’ll take front. I want Faye behind me and Jaxen behind her. The rest doesn’t matter.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Jezi says with a snort.

  Weldon acts as if he doesn’t hear her. “Whatever you do, don’t let go unless I say to. It’ll take quite a few jumps. I can’t go as far as full-blooded Demons.” We all link up, one by one. My heart feels like it’s ready to beat right out of my chest. I feel like everything that has happened to me, every bit of my life and all of its unforgiving moments, has all led up to this moment. This is the moment that will change things forever. This is the beginning of the end.

  With that final thought, Weldon steps forward, and then we disappear into the unknown. Into the shadows.

  BEING INSIDE OF SHADOWS IS terrifying and exhilarating. The silence is thick, almost suffocating. The darkness is tangible and consuming, like slow drops of lead spreading through your veins and hardening you in place. But then we pass between shadows, and all at once, sounds and smells and sights strike me, making my stomach feel as if I’m doing continuous somersaults. The change is like being on a roller coaster, winding and dipping, curving and dropping, all without knowing what comes next. There’s no time to prepare for it.

  Jaxen plants his hand firmly on my shoulder and whispers something in my ear. Every once in a while, he squeezes, and I know it’s his way of telling me he’s there and we’re okay. I focus on that instead of the darkness. It’s the only thing keeping me from hurling.

  When I begin to think the jumping will never end, we finally slow until we stop and step out of the shadows. The earthy, damp scent of woods surrounds us, hugging us in welcome. Gravel and snow crunch underneath our feet. A creek is somewhere close by, the refreshing, cold water rushing over rocks. Clouds of white hang in the air as everyone slows their breathing and takes in our surroundings. There isn’t much to look at except for bare trees and white, snowy earth.

  I pull the map Mack gave me out of my pocket, along with a compass to pinpoint our exact location. I had only learned how to do this once, and it was when I was twelve years-old with my father. Holding them together now, the memories rush over my rationality and my hands begin to shake. Jaxen stills them with his, and slowly takes the map and compass from me.

  Distant, mystifying sounds of the eerily quiet forest fill me. It’s so dark, so haunting. I can sense the unsettled spirits around us, circling, just waiting for a chance to enter the plane of the living once again. Cassie moves closer to Gavin and whispers something to him while Weldon stands over Jaxen’s shoulders and watches the compass. Jezi’s eyes are flitting in every direction, nerves written all over her face. She must feel me looking at her because she looks over at me with tension in her eyes.

  “This place is dark. It’s haunted,” she says, pulling her arms tight around herself. “I don’t like it one bit. If the Darkyn Rebels show up, we’ll have no way of knowing. They’ll blend in with the land’s dark taint.”

  “It’ll be okay,” Cassie says, reaching out to rub Jezi’s arm. “We can handle it. We have to.”

  “It’s that way,” Jaxen says a second later, pointing straight through the barren forest, past the lifeless trees, to a dark hollow spot. “But you’re going to have to read the land for the exact location. Mack only marked the area he thinks it’s in.”

  “Great,” Jezi says with heavy sarcasm. “‘Cause risking being infected by one of the many spirits haunting this area is exactly the kind of added drama we need.”

  “Can you try, for once in your life, to be positive about something? Just one thing?” Gavin says. “Seriously. We’re all stuck in this. Why not make the best of it?”

  “Okay, everyone. Negative energy isn’t going to help,” Weldon says, looking around like he sees past what we cannot. “You’re attracting attention we don’t want.

  Jezi huffs loudly and stomps forward in the direction Jaxen pointed us to. We take off after her, tromping through the snow and decayed foliage that muddle the ground. My boots sink with every step, requiring more muscle than I thought. We walk in silence for a while, following Jaxen’s lead, as he consults the map every so often. A long while later, he stops.

  “This is the area that’s circled off. It’s somewhere close by.”

  “Time to read the land, ladies,” Gavin says, wriggling his eyebrows.

  Cassie drops down to the earth, digging her fingers into the snow.
She closes her eyes, whispering words of magic.

  “Here goes the dumbest decision of my life,” Jezi says before dropping to her knees. She starts doing the same. I join in, asking my Grimoire for the location spell. The moment it appears in my mind, I cast it, and then images flash behind my eyes. Images of the Great Battle. Seconds tick by as I try to absorb everything that moves in a blur. It feels like a pry bar is being taken to my brain, digging and tugging for hidden information.

  I clench my eyes and jaw, crushing the snow into water. “It’s definitely in a cave,” I say, seeing a woman carrying what must have been the Dagger into darkness surrounded by rock. I open my eyes for a moment and see a dark hallow spot up ahead. A ghostly form of a lethally dressed woman steps into the darkness with something sharp gleaming in her hands. “There. It’s in there.”

  “But something doesn’t feel right,” Gavin says, pulling Cassie to her feet. “My senses are out of whack.”

  Jaxen grabs me by the arm and lifts me to my feet. His hand works across my back and down to my hip where my flux rests. He yanks it out and hands it to me. Shadows and fear fill his eyes, but he hides it behind a scowl. “You okay?” he asks.

  “Of course,” I say, swallowing back my nerves. “There’s dark magic nearby, we’re finding a missing piece of history, and I have only a little while left until my deadline is met and my parents are killed. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

  He looks like he doesn’t know what to say, his mouth opening and shutting. He rubs the back of his neck.

  I grab his arm. “I’m sorry. I’m fine, really,” I say honestly. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  A small, minuscule smirk lifts the left side of his mouth, bringing out his dimple. “Is there anything you can’t?”

  I bite the inside of my cheek to keep my smile from fully blooming. “Everyone has a weakness,” I say, looking away from him as I blush. I don’t need to add that I can see him becoming mine. He turns and I say, “Hey, about that favor.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I know what I want.” He tilts his head a little and raises his eyes. “I want you to promise me you’ll make it out of this alive.”

  He grabs my hand. “And what about you?” he asks seriously.

  I smirk. “I’m the Everlasting, remember?”

  “Is this it?” Weldon asks near the small hole carved into the hill in front of us.

  My eyes close, and I tune back into my senses. I can see Alesteria putting the Dagger in a wooden box, and then spelling the dirt to open up in front of her. The other half of the dagger lifts into the air under her command, and then slowly descends into the box.

  “Yeah,” I say, nodding. “It’s buried in there.”

  “Finally,” Jezi says. She starts forward. Cassie and Gavin follow. Weldon waits for me and Jaxen. His eyes dart around the forest and then squint. Jezi’s walking in, but Weldon grabs her arm. She flinches from his touch, trying to break free, but he holds her in place.

  “Stop squirming,” he commands harshly. “We’re not alone.”

  Gavin and Jaxen both spin around inside the mouth of the cavern, fluxes in hand.

  “It’s dark. Darker than the spirits and this forest,” Cassie says, her eyes following an invisible trail.

  I follow her gaze, and then my heart explodes into a cheetah’s pace. Dark shadows move through the trees on the hilltop above the cave. “Did you see that?” I ask, my body reacting even before my mind has. Power surges through me, coursing out through my hands.

  “Witches,” Cassie says, scanning the forest with a snarl.

  “Darkyn Witches,” Jezi adds.

  As if summoned by the word, one by one, they appear behind the trees, bringing a dark, smoky mist with their movements. They take long strides forward, each wearing a black hooded robe. Black masks with creepy, odd-shaped horns adorn their faces and hide their identity from us. Laughter soars through the air on the wings of black crows, passing through the trees and wrapping around us.

  But none of this is why my heart suddenly slams to a stop. None if this is why my tongue ties in irreversible knots. None of this is what leaves me feeling like I’ve been living within glass walls…every moment stolen, seen, witnessed, preyed upon.

  Midnight strolls leisurely in between the legs of the Darkyn Witches sporting the Ouroboros on the front of their cloaks. I jerk to face Jaxen, and then call Midnight to me, praying that I have it all wrong, praying that he’s nothing more than a cat, and this is nothing more than a coincidence.

  But I know better. In our world, there are no coincidences. Only facts.

  “Come on,” I say under my breath, making kissy noises at him.

  He leisurely hops off the edge of the cave, lands perfectly on all fours, and then casually strides over to me. I bend down to lift him, but he stops a few feet in front of me, sitting on his hind legs and staring up at me with large yellow eyes. The mist brought by the Witches carries over the hilltop and pours over the edge of the cave like a waterfall. It spreads toward us as if it has an intended destination, and then wraps around Midnight.

  Jaxen yanks me back, and I swallow a scream the moment he begins to transform. The cat form falls away like a second skin, and from within the vortex of smoke and mist, rises a man. When he’s fully transformed, I stumble back into Jaxen’s arms, nearly pulling us both to the ground.

  “He can’t…” I gasp. “This isn’t…” Another gasp. “Why?” I stop, feeling my control slipping through my fingers like water. My pulse pounds through every inch of my body. Pieces of memories, broken fragments of the puzzle I should have put together before, shift and click, jarring my conscience. “It was you,” I say, my hands falling slack by my sides. “The Grimoire. It was you.”

  He towers over all of us, wearing a black suit with a red handkerchief sticking up from the front pocket. Cruel, soulless black eyes peer down at me beneath a furrowed, dark brow. They smile, even when his lips aren’t, filled with surety, confidence, strength. A strong, square jaw holds a thin-lipped smile meant to send fear into our hearts. Midnight black hair is slicked back atop his head.

  He slithers toward me, uncoiling my composure with every demonic step. His presence seems to steal away the light of day. A welcoming grin brushes his lips, his arms opening in invitation as if he’s harmless. “Faye Middleton, at last we meet. I’m Bael, formally known as Midnight according to you,” he says, his voice warm, deep, and smooth like syrup. I’m shackled in place, stuck under his predatory gaze.

  He waits for what feels like an eternity, his words slowly soaking in. I glance around, scared for the life of everyone I came to love and care about, even Jezi, who’s crouched down and pointing a sawed-off shot gun at him.

  “What? You have nothing to say? No welcome?” He pretends to be wounded, and I want to hurt him. I want to cry. I want to pound my fists into him again and again and again for every sacred moment he’s taken by spying on me, but instead, I stand there, forgetting words, forgetting common sense, forgetting the training that will get us out of this.

  He takes in a breath and turns to the hill, shrugging his shoulders. “I guess they don’t teach manners in Night Watchman school.” Laughter mocks us. It mocks me. He spins back around as their laughter echoes against the trees from the bizarrely masked audience above. High cackling, short bursts, loud booming…every type of laughter continues, and it pulls at my sanity. It makes me want to scratch my eyes out.

  “How?” It’s Weldon. He’s the first to speak, the first to find his footing in this unforeseen chaos. The laughter ceases.

  Bael lifts his chin in Weldon’s direction. His eyes flash bright yellow and narrow on him, unflinching. “Weldon, the tortured soul.” The mockery in his words and tone forms a fist in my throat.

  “No thanks to you,” Weldon says, undeterred. “Answer the question.”

  He runs a smooth hand over his tie. “Very easily, actually,” he says almost proudly. “Naturally, I can take the shape of a cat, a man, or a toad. If yo
u narrow the options of which would easily be accepted by a woman such as Faye, the answer is pretty obvious.” His words are so well-spoken, so meaningful, so swaying, there’s no doubt that he’s a leader. “All thanks to your dear friend Katie, who found me and brought me to Faye, I was able to slip right in and slip right out when my form could no longer contain my identity.”

  Hatred, anger, disappointment…it all seems to fire up the engine in my mind, fueling my ability to speak. I pick my eyes up from off the ground and force them back on Bael, back on the one who will be the deciding factor of what happens to my parents. I have to find my courage. I have to show no fear.

  “Why? What did you have to gain by spying on me?” I ask, surprised with how demanding I sound.

  He turns in my direction, the movement so fluid, so precise, he could easily be mistaken for a dancer. He tilts his head at me, looking me over. Even though he bears the form of a man, his eyes betray him. They still hold a feline, almost perceptive quality, and they pass over me like I’m his next meal.

  “Discovering who you are.” He leans into me, smelling of power and sulfur. “Discovering what makes you…tick.” His breath trails down my neck, and I cringe, my hand tightening around the hilt of my flux. My eyes flick down to his side. Is that where is stigma is? I think about stabbing him until his blood runs dry, until the horrible taste in my mouth is gone, until I can’t tell his body from the ground, but I remain still, knowing if I miss his stigma, we’ll be in it deeper.

  Jaxen pulls me away from him, his veins bulging on his spark-filled arms and neck.

  Bael’s eyes flash down to my hand perceivably, and then a smile twists his lips. When he looks at me again, I know he knows. And he’s proud. He’s proud that I want to kill him, proud that I’m thinking of it. It’s all right there in his eyes, waiting for me to pluck. He looks to Jaxen, and his jaw tightens. “You have,” he pauses, licks his lips, smiles, and says, “trained our little Everlasting well.” He offers his hand out, waiting for Jaxen to take, and then pulls back with a laugh. “I’m only kidding. I know you’re too tough around the edges for a bit of formality.”