Darkness Fair (The Dark Cycle Book 2)

by Marks, Rachel A.

  Then it’s silent. Still. Both of the Powers blink out. And all that remains is Ava’s silver ghost, suspended over the water.

  “Ava!” I call out.

  Her soul doesn’t move or seem to hear me.

  I stumble over the few rocks between Eric and me. “I need to touch her to pull her soul back into her body, I think.”

  He holds out Ava’s limp form, resting her legs over a larger rock. A wave crashes, water spraying over us in a salty mist. I kneel beside her and take her hand, gripping it as hard as I can. “Come back to me, Ava,” I say. “Please!”

  I hold my breath and plead with my power to work, but nothing happens.

  “Your energy is too locked down right now, Aidan.”

  “I know, I know.” Urgency fills me but I don’t have a clue what I’m doing, I’m not sure how—

  The air beside me flickers and suddenly the ghost woman with no eyes is an inch from me, her form a translucent presence against the backdrop of the water.

  Her story floods over me, the violence of her death, the man whose hands choked her, stabbed her, murdered her in the most horrible way, foul beast that he was, foul man of gold and status . . .

  My insides jump to life, the power surging through my mark in a painful rush of heat. The fire licks down my arm into my hand and spreads over Ava’s shoulder and chest before sinking in. A section of my mark begins to slide down my hand and wrap around her arm. When I look up and over the water, I see that her soul begins to fade out and I realize it’s working.

  “The wound on her chest is healing,” Eric says, his voice anxious.

  A crack sounds at the air, and Eric and I startle, turning toward it, losing our focus on Ava. A large figure is careening our way at rocket speed. It lands with a heavy thud on the shore, no more than ten feet away, shaking the ground beneath us, sending the tide into fits as the water tries to decide where to go. Loose rocks tumble from the ledge above with sharp clacking sounds, before splashing into the frantic tide.

  The creature stands to full height, rising, rising, until it’s more than twelve feet at least, dark-brown wings spread wide, immeasurable. My gut turns liquid. A dominion angel, I recognize its armor, the scent of the power. “You will not have her,” it says, voice booming with authority.

  My throat closes and I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I’m frozen, staring as its dark skin shimmers with gold dust. It steps closer. Its bare chest is covered in scars that seem more like burns, in circles and lines that are ordered—not the chaotic markings of battle. Red-orange hair licks over its head and neck like tongues of fire. Its features are vaguely human, but also entirely alien—brow too prominent, green eyes too large. It wears a simple loincloth, and from its wrist and forearm grow thorny green vines that form finger-less gauntlets.

  I know I’ve met the creature before—I recognize its scent. But for the life of me I can’t remember which face it wore when it came to my mother.

  I stumble back, letting go of Ava’s hand as it moves closer, each step making the tide roll back and the rocks shake. It looks down on my sister’s still body. And back at her silver ghost that’s halfway home.

  Then the creature turns to me. “You will not do this thing.”

  “I have to,” I breathe out.

  Jaasi’el looks at Eric. “What is your authority here?”

  “I am the prophet’s guardian.”

  “Since he led me here to my daughter,” Jaasi’el says, “I will release him. But take him away from this place or I will do what I must to you both.” Then he turns, finished with talking. He reaches his large palm out to Ava’s silver ghost, and a command fills the stone, the water, every molecule within reach. Not a verbal command, but still a command: Come! And Ava’s soul begins to float closer to his hand.

  I led him here? My stomach rises, thinking of my foolishness. “You can’t have her!” I shout, my will sparking in my skin, brightening my mark. “You won’t use her!”

  His thorny gauntlets slide over her ghostly throat as it enters his grip. “No, I will not use her corrupted soul. I will destroy it. I should never have allowed it to come this far.”

  “You’ve broken the Law by creating her,” Eric says, “and now you seek redemption in her destruction?”

  “No,” Jaasi’el says, sounding resigned. “I am already Falling because of my folly. That cannot be mended. But I can right the wrong and hold back the tide of destruction just a little longer.”

  He begins to squeeze her soul, and my body reacts as if it were happening to me. “No!” I yell, hoarse from the pain. “Stop!”

  I lunge, grabbing her body’s wrist just as my power surges again, filling my vision with white light. Ava’s energy links with mine, through our connection, that special link I’ve been looking for. It’s there. Bonding us in spirit and soul and body. And I feel the fist on her soul, the burning, the agony of slowly becoming nothing.

  Come back to me, Ava! I scream.

  The air snaps, a surge of electrical energy breaking free with a loud crack! against every surface around us. I’m blown back, my power flickering out as I land ten feet from where I was. Eric flies back into the tide on the opposite side. Between us is Ava’s body, hovering over the rocks, just as her soul had been. But now . . .

  Her white-blonde hair blows around her head. It moves back and forth with the water below her. And her mouth opens to take in a gasping breath.

  Jaasi’el turns to me, growling in rage. “What have you done?”

  I hear Ava’s mind spark to life. Aidan! Where are you? I hear you.

  I’m here, I answer. Open your eyes.

  He moves toward me like a predator ready to pounce. “Now it will be on your head.” And before I can move, the creature has me by the chin, lifting me from the ground. Its thorny armor digs into my skin, the prongs growing as they enter, weaving agony into my skull. “Prophet.” He spits on the rocks at his feet. “Curse you and your wicked soul. I should rip out your throat.”

  My mind goes blank from the pain. I flail, trying to find purchase on his large shoulders, trying to attack him with my fire. I spark and fade and flicker out, my breath locked in the vault of my lungs. And just as the world seems a million miles away, I’m tossed through the air. I land in the rocky tide with a splash and a crack. My head hits hard against stone, my skin shreds over the rough surface.

  A scream rises around me, a banshee tearing at the air. And then someone is picking me up. I’m yanked through the pain and darkness as Eric’s voice fills my ear. “Hold on,” he says. “Hold on.”

  FORTY-FIVE

  Rebecca

  I sit by Kara the rest of the day until night falls and Connor gets home. He doesn’t say anything when he comes into the room, just settles in against the wall beside the bed and closes his eyes, like he’s praying.

  “I want to fix this,” I say quietly. “Will you help me?”

  He turns to me. “What do you mean? How are you going to fix any of this?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know, but I feel like I’m the only one who can.”

  He looks back at Kara lying in the bed, so peaceful. “You mean, because of the whole Aidan thing?”

  “Kara and I went and saw this lady, Miss Mae, and she said that I’ve got some sort of blessing or something, and that’s what would’ve protected me from Aidan’s power.”

  He leans forward. “You went into the city?”

  “That’s hardly the point, Connor.” I move to sit by him on the floor. “Aidan’s father said that my blessing would be given to another. Wouldn’t you think that’s supposed to be Kara?”

  He sighs and runs a hand over his face, looking lost. “I don’t know . . .”

  “Connor, what if whatever’s in me, whatever would have made it safe for me to link with Aidan, what if it’s something that can be transferred?” I so desperately want it to be true. “Sid thinks it might be possible. And if I can maybe save her, well, then shouldn’t I do that?”

  “This
is what Sid does,” Connor says. “He gets these plans and tries to fix things, and when all the spells are done and the smoke clears everything is all fucked up and people I care about get hurt.”

  “This is me, Connor, not Sid. I want this.”

  He shakes his head. “I get it. I want to save her, I do. But what if it hurts you, Rebecca? What if transferring this blessing or whatever, instead of healing Kara, it kills you, too?”

  “I don’t know.” For some reason, I’m not concerned about that. I guess some might say that’s insane. Or at the very least, suicidal. “I want to try.”

  “We don’t even know where to start.”

  “Oil,” I say, thinking of the slick stuff Aidan’s father put on my forehead.

  “Huh?”

  “We should get oil. And I’ll pray or chant or something—maybe Sid will have found another idea—and then I’ll just . . . give her what’s mine.” It sounds so simple, but we’re not children playing a game of magic. This is real. And if it fails, someone could die. “I just want to try. It’ll keep me from feeling so helpless.”

  He releases a growl. “Fine. But please, don’t get your hopes up.”

  Sid settles in the chair beside the bed, holding a smoking stick. Connor hovers next to me, both of us standing over Kara. Jax paces by the door. Holly is helping Sid look for passages on blessings—he’s having trouble seeing, he said. She reads out loud a story about Jacob, who stole his brother’s blessing. It’s not super helpful, detail-wise, but her voice is soothing. It calms my nerves a little.

  I wish Aidan were here. I feel like he’d know exactly what to do. I, however, am completely clueless. Connor doesn’t like that we’re doing any of it, but he’s trying to be supportive.

  My head hurts.

  I look down on Kara’s body. It’s damp with sweat, her skin glistening. The white sheets are tinged red in spots from the blood leaking from her eyes and ears every now and then. She’s so pale. I can’t remember—did she look this bad the other day when she passed out?

  “Okay, what now?” Connor asks when Holly finishes her reading.

  “Well,” I say, picking up the small vial of oil from the box Sid brought up, “I think we should start by placing some of this on the center of her forehead?” I glance at Sid, looking for guidance.

  He nods. “This is how a blessing would normally be done. And that is rose oil, so it’s very positive in what it transmits. After placing the oil, you should whisper the blessing while still touching her.”

  I open the small vial and tip it over onto my finger, then I step closer to Kara, touching my slick finger to her forehead like Aidan’s father did to me. Then I lean over and close my eyes, whispering, “I give you my protection, it’s yours now.” I open my eyes, leaving my fingers on her head.

  I don’t feel anything. I don’t see any change. The smell of rose petals and sweat mingle in the air, and disappointment filters into my chest.

  “I want you and Aidan to be happy, Kara. So take whatever you need from me, okay? I can’t watch this happen to you anymore, and I know you love Aidan. You know how sad he would be if he saw you right now? You can’t leave him, you just can’t do that to him, so take the blessing or destiny from me, or whatever it is that his soul mate is supposed to have. Keep yourself safe.”

  I stare at her and remove my hand from her forehead. I still don’t feel anything.

  Of course this wasn’t going to work. It was silly. Silly to think that something so simple would have any effect.

  “That was lovely,” Sid says.

  He has tears in his eyes. And when I look to Connor, he’s turned a little away.

  “It was,” Jax says quietly from the doorway. “Real nice.” He sniffs and looks forlorn.

  There’s movement behind him, and suddenly Finger is standing next to him.

  No one reacts to the appearance of the strange boy. No one but me. I stare, openmouthed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him upstairs. No, never. Not once.

  “What is it, Finger?” Holly asks.

  Finger makes a noise deep in his chest, like a grunt, then he steps into the room and comes around Connor to stand beside me, looking down at Kara. He towers over me by at least a foot. His greasy hair falls across his forehead and he grips the front of his food-stained shirt with a meaty fist, like he’s trying to hold his heart. His brow scrunches in pain as he studies her.

  I have to tense my leg muscles so I don’t step away in response to him being so close. Because it’s not just that he’s physically close. Something about him fills the room.

  I glance over at Connor; he’s watching Finger with what looks like hope on his face.

  Something wraps around my hand. It’s Finger’s, swallowing my own.

  I step back then, fear lacing through me. What is he doing?

  He smiles down at me, that same knowing smile. Then he pulls my hand closer to Kara’s and weaves her lifeless fingers through mine. He plants his palm over Kara’s forehead, cups his other over mine. And then . . .

  Oh my God, I feel something. The inner part of me, the place I recognize as me, shifts. And I feel my self. Rebecca. The girl who loves her father, even when he’s unlovable; who misses her brother with an ache that could swallow worlds; the girl who wants—no, needs—to make things right if she can.

  Then the sensation deepens, and I feel something reach in—into me. Like an invisible finger, hooking my soul. My whole being shakes, moves, my insides bursting open in a rush. I’m pulled forward, I’m pulled back, I’m stretching until I’ll break. I feel myself everywhere, surrounding the whole world.

  And then a searing pain rips through my core and I hear a scream as a piece of me is torn off. Lost. Stolen. It slips into this boy in front of me, this thing, this beast, splintering my soul. And I can’t—I can’t breathe, I . . .

  I go limp, crumpling to the floor. And when things inside settle again, finally going still, I open my eyes. The boy—Finger—he’s still smiling down on me with that same knowing look. He nods at me like he’s pleased and then turns and walks past me, out of the room.

  “Rebecca.” Connor crouches at my side.

  Jax rushes in to check on Kara.

  “What happened?” Connor looks up at Sid with accusation in his eyes. “What the fuck just happened?”

  Sid shakes his head, obviously shocked. “I believe Finger just pulled the blessing from Rebecca and placed it into Kara.”

  “Really?” Holly says, leaning over to touch my arm.

  Jax is looking in awe at Kara’s quiet form. “That’s nuts.”

  “How is that even possible?” Connor asks. “I thought Finger just manipulated emotions.” He helps me into a sitting position but I can barely hold myself up.

  “He reads emotions and changes them by pushing his own energy into others,” Sid says. “I knew it might have other expressions but I never could have imagined . . . this.”

  “How will we know it worked?” Holly asks.

  “Or know how this could affect Rebecca?” Connor adds, sounding concerned.

  “The only way to know will be to watch it play out,” Sid says. “Logically it shouldn’t change anything for Rebecca since she wasn’t the one who needed the blessing anymore.”

  After the way that all just felt, something inside me doesn’t agree with that assessment, but I keep my thoughts to myself. I wanted this. I asked for this. I wanted to help and hopefully I did, hopefully this makes things better for everyone, and my part in this can pass on to Kara and no more pain will have to happen, Aidan can have peace, and I can . . . I don’t know. What can I do? However this affects me, I’ll just deal with it.

  I’m able to feel my limbs better now. They’re still weak, but I can breathe easily again, and the odd pain inside me has faded to a dull throb.

  “I’m fine,” I say, patting Connor’s arm with the little energy I can muster, and smiling up at Holly in reassurance. “Just—I think I need to rest for a second.” Connor helps me up onto my
wobbly legs and lets me lean on him as he walks me to my room.

  Once he gets me to the bed, I collapse with a sigh.

  “Why did you have to push this?” He starts pacing back and forth. “Trying to fix shit always just makes it worse.”

  “Connor, what if that whole weird thing just saved Kara? Don’t be ridiculous—of course you’d want me to try.”

  “What I want is for you to not also be sick, so I don’t lose both of you.”

  “That’s not going to happen.” I scoot back in the bed and get into the sheets. “Don’t be such a Gloomy Gus.”

  “Have you not been paying attention to the shit that goes down here?”

  I yawn and sink into the mattress. “I’m fine. I’ll sleep and wake up still me, you’ll see.”

  He grunts and sits on the edge of the bed. “You scared me to death, Rebecca.”

  “I’m fine.” I lazily pat him on the arm. “See.” I point at my face and give him a toothy grin.

  He rolls his eyes. “I’m so tired of everything falling apart.”

  “Then don’t let it.” I slide my fingers through his and hold his hand.

  He looks down at our connection and squeezes back. “You are amazing, you know that?”

  I just smile and close my eyes. But the last thought that crosses my mind is of Aidan, and my heart sparks with fear. Something isn’t right. But I can’t seem to open my eyes to tell Connor or ask him to check. I can only sink quickly, further and further into darkness, hearing a lone violin playing a mournful tune somewhere far away.

  FORTY-SIX

  Aidan

  I surface to the memory of Ava playing the violin. But it doesn’t feel like a memory, it feels real, the vibrations of the notes thrumming in the sand beneath me.

  Sand? Where am I?

  “He’s waking up,” she says.

  Ava.

  I hear you, Aidan. Her relief surrounds me as she pushes an image of the two of us playing chess on the floor of her old room from last year. You won again.