Winter (Mist Riders Book 2)

by Stella Fitzsimons

  “Is this all there is?” I said.

  Honestly, I’d expected there’d be a lot more files.

  “We Immortals are limited in numbers,” Chaos said. “We don’t squeeze out offspring willy-nilly every time we get soused. Our power lies in the strength of the individual.”

  Yeah, okay, I get the point.

  We passed through the archives to another white door and then descended a winding staircase. The staircase brought us to a humid room with grungy brick walls and cement support columns. The floor was dirty. Arctic cold air blew out of ceiling vents. This wasn't a room—it was a cell.

  There was a cough. We looked to each other. Not us.

  The cough again. We all spotted a small mound of rags in the corner.

  “Emmet!” I yelled and ran to him.

  We pulled off the rags and found him shackled to a chain that was fastened to the wall above him. Winter lifted him to a seated position. Emmet could not lift his hanging head. His knuckles were bruised as if he had been punching the wall. He had lost a ton of weight. His ribs protruded out of his torn shirt. His arms were covered with cuts, bruises and burns.

  “Emmet,” I repeated as I bent down to lift his head and look into his vacant eyes. I kissed his bruised and battered face. I tried to hug him, but he moaned at the slightest touch. I kissed him again, stroking his hair.

  His eyelids fluttered.

  “Yes,” I said. “You can do it. Come back to me, Emmet.”

  He squinted at me through swollen eyelids. “Is this heaven?” he muttered through dry lips. “Are you an angel?”

  Chaos snorted behind me.

  “It’s me… Sophie,” I said, smiling through my tears.

  He leaned closer, trying to comprehend. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “I’m here to take you home,” I said, stroking his face.

  He still didn’t understand. “It’s only a dream. I’ve been sleeping.”

  I looked up to Winter. He had his arms crossed, not moving a muscle. A shadow shivered in his eyes.

  “Do something about the shackles, yeah?” I told him.

  “The shackles are the least of wolfie’s problems,” Chaos said. “There are bruises days old on him. He’s not healing.”

  It was true. Shifters didn’t have the same infinite capacity for regeneration as Immortals, but they were strong and healed much faster than basic humans. Emmet’s body should be able to clear bruises in a day or two.

  “What’s happening?” I said.

  “His ribs,” Winter said, kneeling next to me.

  I felt Emmet’s skin under his torn shirt. I touched something cold protruding out of his left side. Emmet winced. I found the same thing on the right side, underneath his ribcage.

  “Is it bonshek?” I said.

  Winter nodded. “They used a huge amount on him to not only make sure he wouldn’t heal but more importantly that he wouldn’t shift.”

  Chaos yawned. “Tell me we’re leaving him to die. His life is so pointlessly short anyway.”

  I felt tempted to tell him to go to hell, but I knew he liked to say those things more than he believed them. He also saved my life not long ago.

  Winter tore the bloodied shirt off Emmet and clutched onto one of the metal rods, dragging it out. A deep growl rolled out of Emmet. I held him tight, whispering it’s going to be okay in his ear over and over.

  Winter pulled out the second rod and dropped both on the ground.

  I looked at the rods that had prevented Emmet from shifting. I had been stabbed with a thin needle, but these things were three inches long and thick as nails. l couldn’t imagine how much they must have damaged him. At least, he hadn’t taken a sword to the gut and his wounds would probably heal on their own.

  Winter broke the shackles around Emmet’s wrists with his bare hands.

  I fell into Emmet’s arms, hugging him tight enough that he cringed. The worst was behind us—Emmet was alive, his body felt warm and would start healing soon, and he had finally found enough strength to hug me back.

  “Sophie,” he said. “Is that really you?”

  “It’s me,” I told him, but was overcome with guilt and regret. “We’re going to get you out of here, okay?”

  Emmet lifted his head. I finally looked into his eyes. Gone was the usual hint of mirth and mischief in those hazel eyes of his, that had always been there no matter what was happening. “I need to heal,” he said.

  “You can do that at home,” I said, my voice breaking.

  “He needs to shift to accelerate his healing,” Chaos informed me. “Let him do his tail wagging while we tie up our final loose ends.”

  Emmet released my hand. His body shook and lurched. His skin cracked and white fur spurted forth. His ears elongated, a snout spilling out where his nose used to be. When the transformation was complete, a majestic white wolf was crouching next to me, his ears pointed. The wolf was over five foot tall, standing on powerful legs. Red patches of blood spotted his soft white fur.

  Even in his animal form, Emmet was magnificent.

  The wolf sat down to rest and licked his paws. Winter gently nudged me toward the stairs. We went past the archives and back to the library.

  “Okay, now what?” I said.

  “Every trace of you having been here must be erased,” Chaos said. He glanced at Winter. “You too, magistrado. Düsternis will know something is up. He’s a fucking twat, but he’s not stupid. He’ll figure out your involvement.”

  Winter shook his head. “I can handle Düsternis.”

  “No, Sir Galahad, you can’t.”

  Fearing another argument was about to start, I stepped between them.

  “How do we destroy the evidence?” I asked.

  “I’ve already interlaced crisscrossing beams, tying them to the four main foundational points outside, cutting off the Vault’s reverberations,” Chaos said, “and Old Man Winter here has done a decent job of blocking all transmitting signals on the inside.” His face contorted at having just paid Winter even a half-assed compliment.

  “You said yourself that Düsternis is no idiot,” I reminded Chaos. “Even if there’s no proof Winter and I were ever here, how long before he makes an educated guess? I mean, who else could have done this? We broke into the impenetrable fortress known as Sacred Vault, slaughtered half the guards, killed an Immortal magistrate and freed a prisoner.”

  Chaos flashed his wicked grin. “It is I who could have done it. And by the time I’m done, all guards will be slaughtered.”

  I chewed on that for a while. Winter’s face was unreadable.

  “Am I hearing this right, Chaos?” I said. “You’ll take the blame?”

  Chaos grinned. “It’s not like Düsternis can like me any less.”

  “Maybe it doesn’t matter? You and Winter worked really hard to isolate the vault from the outer world.”

  “That won’t last forever. As soon as we’re gone, the shields will weaken, and the vault’s channels will reopen eventually. The only solution, sugar pop, is that we make it look like I raided the vault and destroyed the archives.”

  Winter raised an eyebrow. “The archives?”

  “That’s key, old chum,” Chaos explained with pride. “No one will suspect the world’s oldest boy scout of incinerating the hallowed archives. That reminds me, if there’s anything in there that you need, you know, for future witch stalking purposes, or whatever, I suggest you grab it now.”

  Winter’s features turned as rigid as a mask. “The archives are of immeasurable value. It’s not just Immortals, the world’s history—the world’s true history, not the one recorded by the victors—is in there.”

  Chaos gave me an I-told-you look. “The good magistrate has just illustrated my point. Burning the archives is a necessity.”

  “If you destroy the archives, all eternal and immortal councils will want a piece of you,” Winter pushed back. “There will be no force in any of the realms that could convince them to change their minds. Yo
u will be the most hunted man in the history of the world.”

  “Has a nice ring to it,” Chaos gloated. He drew his Damascus sword out of its sheath. A soft white light flared about him like a magic cloak. His dark aura shimmered. My skin prickled.

  “I already killed anyone I could find along the river,” he said.

  “It was you?” I said. “You killed those troglodytes by the river?”

  He nodded, manic grin on his face.

  “Why did you have to make it so brutal?”

  “Why do you think, sugar plum? To throw the council off your scent and to remind those buffoons I know all their secrets.”

  Chaos knew about the experiments at the Palacio. Winter had explained how he had gotten the power of the third-eye vision from Horror, like his brain could connect to the Eternal network at any time. Beyond creepy.

  I saw the reflection of his face in his blade. An electric shock hit my heart. A primeval connection buzzed inside my chest, pulling me to Chaos like all reason had escaped me. Was it because his blood was in my veins now? No, I remembered that I had the same feeling when I saw him draw that sword in that first battle in Serenity Valley.

  Chaos raised the sword above his head. The sword came down, slashing at the air. The blade whizzed and flashed a dark brown—the color of hate.

  I stepped back, feeling lightheaded, and bumped into Winter’s chest. “Is he going to murder all those troglodytes in cold blood?” I said. “They didn’t want to hurt me.”

  “They didn’t want to fight you,” Winter said. “There’s a difference.”

  “Those fiends have come through the Eternal gates,” Chaos said. “They are not what they seem to be. Have you heard of Horror, sweet thing?”

  I nodded. “The first Eternal.”

  “Smart girl. Düsternis has been chatting up Horror,” he said as he kept swinging his blade.

  Winter grasped Chaos’s sword hand. “What do you mean?”

  The ground beneath my feet felt shaky. “Horror isn’t the only Eternal,” I interjected. “It could be someone else who’s orchestrated this.”

  Chaos lowered the sword. “It is him. I sense him. His etheric essence floats in this very library. It bounces off the backs of the dwarf beasts.” He looked at me, curiously. “You don’t seem surprised I feel his presence, Luna.”

  I met his gaze. “Winter told me all about you and Horror.”

  Chaos inhaled, stepped back, and raised an eyebrow at Winter.

  “What?” I said, sensing a sudden uneasiness.

  Winter said nothing. He was very good at hiding his emotions, but his eyes, dark and troubled, betrayed him.

  I knew they were hiding something.

  Winter stepped closer and took my hand. “It’s imperative that we sanitize the scene, that we leave no evidence behind. Horror must never see you, he must never hear of you, he must never smell you. Do you understand? He must never know of you, Luna. His power is as old as the magic realm itself. You cannot win once he reclaims it. Nobody can.”

  The lord of the soul swallowers. Was it Horror?

  My heartbeat slowed. The breath in my lungs felt heavy. Pushing the words out of my mouth made me dizzy. “Isn’t he confined to his eternal chambers, his access to the magic realm cut off?”

  “As far as we know, yes,” Winter said.

  Chaos kept silent. He licked his lips and I saw it, shining through layers and layers of badassery in his eyes. The bleak shadow warrior felt fear. I couldn’t understand at first why he had warned us of the vault, or why he had followed us to make sure we’d succeed in getting Emmet and walking out without leaving evidence, but now it made sense.

  If Horror returned to the world, it meant Chaos would be in far greater danger than he was pissing Düsternis off. He needed my help. No army of rogue immortals would stand by him in a showdown with Horror, but maybe all he needed to have a glim hope was the ethereal powers of a mist rider.

  Chaos quickly shook the trepidation off his face. “How about we get this show on the road?” he said. He spun around, holding his sword in front of his face. “Where art thou, my little uglies?”

  A wave of magic erupted from him and I felt it all the way down to my fingertips. It was sharp, high-energy magic that made me giddy as I drank it in.

  The ground shook with the thundering echoes of hundreds of boots marching. Packs of troglodytes, dwarves and huge black dogs swarmed the library, summoned by Chaos and his sword.

  Bloodlust and impatience shone across their bare teeth. The Vault guards, the ones who came straight through the gates of hell according to Chaos, were intoxicated by the dense magic and had begun to abandon all reason.

  Chaos licked the shimmering Damascus blade in his hand. “I can’t control every single one of your minds, my pretties, so you’ll have to taste my thousand-year-old steel.”

  His sword glowed above his head before he brought it down, slaughtering two troglodytes who charged him.

  Axes and spears thrust and whipped. Chaos screamed so loud my ears popped. He sliced and cut through flesh like a man possessed, not caring about the multitude of wounds he incurred.

  The creatures kept coming. I watched Chaos’s wrath, became hypnotized by his flowing movements.

  Winter flew past, sword blazing in his hand. He kicked a dwarf that got in his way and sent him bounding off into the air like he was a football, then banged two more dwarf heads together.

  As more beasts rushed into the library, drawn to Chaos’s summoning power, Winter joined the furor of slaughter, his sword chopping to pieces any beast in his vicinity. Heads and limbs went flying in a bloodbath that was all too reminiscent of the metamorphic night.

  I bent over, sick to my stomach. Sharp magic bit my tongue. Two shadows fighting side by side—it was just too much carnage. I closed my eyes.

  “Halt!” Chaos barked out.

  I opened my eyes. All creatures but three had been slaughtered, most quartered or at least beheaded. A stream of dark crimson blood flowed beneath the piles of bodies that covered the marble floor completely.

  Winter’s face and hair glistened with sweat as he continued to breathe heavily from the extreme exercise of slaughter.

  Chaos extended two bloodied arms, inviting the creatures, two troglodytes and one dwarf, over to him.

  “Come forth, hounds of hell,” he told them. “You have a very important mission to fulfil.”

  Guttural cries answered his command. There was no intelligence left in the beasts. They knelt in front of Chaos. He touched their heads one by one and murmured in a language I didn’t understand.

  Winter glided to my side. “He is imprinting memories,” he explained. “When he’s done, they’ll only have memories of Chaos in the vault, so when their master finds them, they will report back it was Chaos who caused the mayhem all by himself.”

  Chaos stepped back. The troglodytes and the dwarf gazed upon him as if he were a deity before they ran off.

  “I’m done with the dummies,” he said. “Now let’s burn all the Loony Luna evidence to the ground.”

  They gingerly stepped over bodies on the way to the attic staircase.

  “Are you coming?” Winter asked me.

  I shook my head. “I’d just be in the way.”

  As soon as they left, I slipped away to the archive room. Chaos had suggested that we take anything we wanted.

  I didn’t have much time. Of all the possibilities, I had to pick one fast. The ceiling-high shelves that held thousands of file folders rose above my head.

  How could I get the file I wanted before Winter and Chaos returned?

  His sweater. It was the only piece of clothing I had since Dimitri stabbed me in the attic and my clothes were ripped off me.

  I took Winter’s sweater off and stood in my underwear. I balled it up and brought it to my face to inhale his etheric essence. My magic grabbed onto the essence as it filled my nose. A folder shuddered up on the shelves. I stood on tiptoes and strained my spine to get to
it. Winter’s file.

  I leafed through pages written in foreign languages, Latin and Greek and Norse and Chinese, all languages I couldn’t read. I finally found a handful of pages in English and quickly scanned through them.

  My heart pounded as I read, a heavy weight pressing down on my chest. The room shrank. I felt helpless, holding back tears that had been gathering for days.

  Footsteps approached. I tore the few pages in English off the file folder and returned it to the shelf, quickly putting the sweater back on.

  Winter looked me over slowly. My cheeks were on fire, I could feel it. “Everything is clean in the attic,” he said. “It now looks like Chaos killed Dimitri. His essence is the only thing left in the library.”

  I nodded. “That’s good, right?”

  Chaos burst through the door holding a box of matches. “We’ll do this the old-fashioned way,” he said, manic grin on his face.

  Winter glanced up and down the shelves. His eyes looked like the loneliest northern sea, eternal sadness sinking deep. “Do it,” he said.

  Chaos struck a match. “Time to set the world on fire.”

  CHAPTER 23

  ____________________________________

  I stared at the phone after Emmet hung up. It had been two days since our return, and he assured me he was healing fast. Two broken ribs and his sprained wrist were much improved but not quite a hundred percent.

  He wasn’t in any pain, that was the important part.

  Emmet stayed with his dad who had twice asked to be put on the phone to express his gratitude to me.

  The violent memories of his ordeal at the Vault still rattled Emmet.

  How could they not?

  He never once asked me how I found out where he had been taken, or how I had enlisted two Immortals to help. After an awkward silence, Emmet thanked me again and told me he had to go.

  I wouldn’t blame him if never wanted to see me again. He must have realized by now just how dangerous being close to me could be.

  Lucia’s sunroom was getting chilly. The evening sky was overcast. A thunder sounded off in the distance.