You’ve got one chance at this, I told myself.
Realizing the truth in my words, I flipped my sword into the air with my right hand and caught it, the cold steel of the blade cutting into my naked palm. I gritted my teeth and fortified myself to ignore the pain.
“Saxon!!” I screamed. “Take my sword!”
I didn’t wait for a response. I just held my sword out to him, hoping he would take it. I kept my eyes down as I did so, not wanting to look up and into the eyes of the Fury that was doing her best to fly off with my companion. I felt a smile break across my face when my sword left my hand. I glanced down at my palm and noticed it was so bloody, I couldn’t even see my skin.
I continued to hold onto Saxon’s boot, but I was losing my grip, owing to how sweaty my palm was becoming. My hand started to slip, and seconds later, Saxon was gone. I felt the current in the air from the fierce beating of the fury’s wings above me and knew I had failed.
“No!” I cried out in anguish, all the while aware that I couldn’t look up to see what had become of Saxon because I was too afraid of looking the fury in the eyes.
I heard a swishing sound that reminded me of a blade cutting through the air. That sound was followed by a toe-curling screech that could only have come from a woman. Seconds later, Saxon hit the ground hard, just beside me. Bloodied and dazed, he lay there for a few seconds as I made my way over to him.
“Saxon, are you okay?” I whimpered to him as I took in the gashes in his shoulders. There was so much blood, I couldn’t tell just how deep they were.
“You stupid girl!” Saxon yelled at me through gritted teeth. “You should have left me!” Then he shook his head and grabbed my arm before I could utter a word. “There’s no time for any of this! We need to keep moving!”
We were already at the base of the water. And now there was only one thing to do to escape the beating wings of the furies. Saxon handed my sword back to me and then tucked his bow underneath his arm. He then gripped mine and we both plunged into the water together.
Saxon was correct when he said the water wasn’t deep, but it was very cold. The iciness made me break out with goose bumps all over as shivers consumed me from my feet up. Luckily, the water only reached my thighs. Trudging through it wasn’t exactly easy, either, especially with the constant threat from overhead. Blazing my way forward, I was fueled by visions of my own insides being ripped out. When we reached the middle of the water, it was up to my waist.
“It’s getting deeper,” I said, my voice trembling.
“Not to worry. This is as deep as it gets,” Saxon informed me before firing another round of arrows into the sky. The shrieking furies made me wish I were deaf. I did my best to ignore them, fastening my eyes on the dock ahead of me and forcing myself ever onward.
Upon reaching the dilapidated mooring, I wrapped my fingers around the splintering posts. With great effort, I started to throw my leg over the side so I could hoist myself up. That was before I saw the sharp claws of a fury standing directly in front of me, at eye level. I couldn’t help looking at her. I took in her shiny, black wings that looked just like those of a crow. She was completely naked with the body of a well-endowed woman. Her skin was milky white and her breasts were heavy and voluptuous. My eyes began to travel even farther still, up towards her face. I wasn’t sure where my willpower had gone. I was just sure of one thing—I wanted to see her, to look upon this magnificent creature …
“Don’t look at her face!” Saxon’s voice cut through the air and shattered whatever spell I was under.
In rapid response, I dropped my eyes and heard him release an arrow. I felt the arrow wiz by my face and it felt as if it was mere centimeters from striking me. There was a second of silence … a second that seemed to last forever. That was followed by the sound of the arrow hitting its target and another blood-curdling scream. The fury’s wings began flapping when she took off, screeching all the while. I wasted no more time, but hoisted myself up onto the dock. Sprinting for the front door to the gravekeeper’s quarters, I dared not to look back to know whether or not Saxon was still behind me. But when I heard his footsteps, I knew we were going to make it. My stomach nearly tripped over itself from relief.
That was before I heard a woman’s high-pitched voice inside my head. Enjoy this small victory, it started. For you have truly gained nothing. Your defeat is short lived. Your fate was sealed the second you walked into this valley. You are deceived, your company false. What you seek here shall be your undoing. You have made it past me and mine, but the time draws near where you will wish we had killed you!
The voice was raspy and sharp, that of a woman mixed with the screeching of a bird and the hissing of a snake all in one. I kept my eyes down and kept my feet moving. The furies continued to squawk and soar above us, but I ignored them. With great determination, I launched myself right through the front door of the hovel before tripping over something that sent me careening onto the floor.
As soon as I regained my bearings, I watched Saxon bounding in after me, throwing the door shut behind him. Smiling, he took a deep breath.
“That was a fucking close one!” he exclaimed.
“Not anything know we of your human state…”
- Dante’s Inferno
TWENTY-THREE
As soon as I managed to catch my breath, I rolled onto my hands and knees while pushing myself up until I was standing again. I’d tripped over what I now realized was a warped floorboard that protruded at the entrance to the gravekeeper’s quarters. When I’d fallen down, I’d inadvertently dropped my sword. Now, as I bent over, intending to pick it up, something stopped me. I paused for a few seconds, still leaning down, trying to figure out what suddenly prevented me from retrieving my sword. I had an irresistible desire to stand up again, and worse, to step away from my sword, and leave it exactly where it was.
“Are you okay, Lily?” Saxon asked. He faced me with what looked like sincere concern. His face was pale and blood soaked through his clothing on both of his shoulders where the fury had gripped him with her talons.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I answered breathlessly. But I didn’t feel fine. I felt strange … like something was off, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I just didn’t feel like … me.
Stepping away from my sword and Saxon, I had the sudden urge to retreat. The feeling didn’t make any sense to me, however, so I paused and inhaled a couple of deep breaths. I hoped I’d just shake off the bizarre sensation; but, if anything, it seemed to deepen. In no time, it was all I could do to avoid retreating to the far end of the room.
In an attempt to pay attention to anything other than my bizarre feelings, I glanced around myself, taking in my surroundings. The inside of the hovel was just as tattered and worn as it was on the outside. There was no furniture except a wooden dressing table with an attached mirror and an upholstered chair that stood against the wall on the far side of the room. They both looked as if they’d seen much better days, possibly in centuries gone by. Both were covered by a thick layer of dust and the upholstery on the chair was faded and torn. What could have been red velvet at some distant point in the past was now threadbare and a light shade of pink. The mirror reflected its age with spots. It was so foggy I found it difficult to see my own reflection.
But I couldn’t say the dusty and worn furniture were of that much interest to me. No, that right was reserved for the crystal crown, which I spotted sitting atop the dressing table on a black, damask pillow. The crown glistened in the moon’s rays that streamed through the window beside the table. I couldn’t decide which was more spectacular, the detailing of the glass of the crown, or the gorgeous diamonds adorning it. The glass, itself, was exquisitely blown into four columns, designed to connect the top of the crown to the bottom. Each column was shaped like leaves and traveled up the middle of the crown until they reached the top, where the glass became myriad domes, reminding me of the unique architecture of an ancient eastern European city. The unparal
leled beauty of the glass was nearly outdone by the glittering diamonds, which comprised the entire bottom.
“Well, that wasn’t too hard to find!” Saxon announced as soon as his eager eyes narrowed in on the crown. I’d already taken the steps that separated me from it, without even realizing I had. I felt a strange but inexplicable impulse drawing me to it, and with each glimmer that beckoned me, and each sparkle, I was inextricably pulled even closer. My desire to reach out and touch it was almost tortuous.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered while studying the luxurious crown, completely awestruck by its unimaginable exquisiteness. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Well, be careful when you pick it up. I have no idea how we’re supposed to get that thing back to Alaire without breaking it into a million pieces,” Saxon prattled on, his voice now merely background noise. I couldn’t focus on the meaning of his words. Or anything except the radiant intensity of the crown.
I pulled the chair out from underneath the dressing table and sat down. The need to do so became evident when my knees started buckling. When I glanced at my reflection in the faded mirror, I barely recognized it. The dark circles beneath my eyes and my hollowed-out cheeks made me look worn, tired, and gaunt. My hair stuck out at all angles from my face like straw, lacking any shine whatsoever. After viewing the eternal, glistening beauty of the wonderful crown, I appeared tired, haggard and malnourished in comparison. It really shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise since I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a decent sleep. And as far as my meals went, well, they were just as unreliable and infrequent.
The crown will regenerate your beauty. The words suddenly sounded in my head and, despite hearing my own voice, they weren’t my words. You were beautiful once, so you shall be again.
“Let’s get the crown and the soul, and then we can be on our way, Lily,” Saxon said. Apparently, he perceived my sitting down, even though I intended to do so for only a few seconds, as a gesture that I was getting comfortable. All at once, I felt so tired that the thought of standing up again left me completely unmotivated.
Failing to respond because I lacked the interest, all I wanted to do was run my fingertips along the surface of the glass. I longed to touch it, feel its smoothness, and revel in its detailed beauty and artistic skill. Reaching forward, as soon as my fingertips made contact with the glass, I felt my entire being lift up. I was suddenly overwhelmed by images of joy and happiness. The incessant pull of hunger in my belly and the aches of exhaustion ceased to exist. I immediately positioned the rest of my fingers on the glass, relishing the subsequent sensations of warmth and happiness now exploding inside me. I watched my reflection smiling back at me from the mirror.
My palm suddenly felt as if it were itching and when I glanced down at it, I noticed the wound inflicted by my sword was rapidly vanishing. The crown was healing me!
Place the crown on your head, the voice that sounded like me, but wasn’t, spoke up in my head again. Let the warmth it provides travel through your entire being. Allow it to nourish you.
No, Lily, I heard myself say; but my voice sounded weak and very far away. I doubted if it were even my own thought. And my lack of recognition meant I didn’t care about it. It signified nothing to me.
Feel the radiant warmth offered by the crown …
Gulping down a sudden pang of fear, I lifted the crown until it was at eye level with me. The glass eagerly sparkled in the pale moonlight and the brilliant diamonds strove to eclipse its beauty. They were both so miraculously perfect that I couldn’t decide which was more spectacular. Not that it really mattered anyway. At that moment, all that did matter to me was placing the crown on my head. An undeniable sensation of something burning that was as passionate and penetrating as the need to breathe came over me. I had to become one with the crown. I watched my reflection bringing the crown closer as I held it just above my head.
Don’t do it, Lily! my own feeble voice piped up inside of me again. Sounding just as frail and remote as before, now it did nothing more than irritate me.
Don’t tell me what to do! I snapped back. I wanted only to silence that insistent opinion. When I found my reflection glaring back at me, I breathed deeply and watched my face regain its placid smile. Everything was okay again.
With as much gusto as my weary body could muster, I plopped the crown down on top of my head. As soon as the glass touched me, I was inundated by a stream of feelings that I didn’t expect and definitely didn’t understand. Closing my eyes when the maelstrom brewed inside me, I was bursting, overflowing, with a confidence and strength I’d never known before. Unlimited power seemed to tingle through my nerves, refilling the empty reservoir inside me until I was completely invincible.
Now, there was nothing I couldn’t do.
I blinked my eyes open and looked into the mirror. Before me stood the very embodiment of strength. I emanated beauty, power, and best of all, invincibility. I no longer appeared weary and drained from sleeplessness and hunger. No! My hair framed my face in a luxurious mass of black tresses that shone in the moonlight so darkly as to almost appear blue. And the shiny, rich ebony of my hair rivaled the blackness of my eyes. Gone were the fatigued bags and dark circles beneath my eyes. They were replaced with a fresh vitality I couldn’t remember ever observing before. Even my skin was pale and perfect, not a freckle or blemish to mar its porcelain flawlessness. I was more beautiful than I had ever been.
Standing up, I anxiously pushed the chair out from underneath me so hard that it toppled over. I ignored it, thrilled to find myself dressed in a floor-length, black satin gown. Two sexy slits ran up my legs, reaching as high as my hip bones. Meanwhile, the bodice was cut so low, my ample breasts were seductively displayed. The gown’s fabric hugged my body like a second skin, outlining my nipples which were clearly prominent, along with the curves in my hips and thighs. Whenever I made the least movement, the diaphanous material swirled around my body like water, revealing the “vee” between my thighs.
“Lily?” a man’s voice sounded from behind me. Spinning around, I found him gaping at me, his mouth hanging open in what I could only assume to be shock. I immediately noticed the blood stains on his shoulders and the way he was hunched over and pale. I strode up to him and put my hands on either of his shoulders, immediately feeling the heat of my healing powers as they restored him to his previous condition. His eyes went wide as the pallor of his skin flushed while his health returned anew.
“Why do you not bow in servitude to your queen?” I asked. My voice sounded sultry, if not deep and threatening.
The man swallowed hard before his eyes settled on my breasts and the erect peaks of my nipples. I heard myself laughing as I thrilled at his reaction. He remained standing, perhaps failing to understand the meaning of my words. However, I imagined it was because he couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the lusciousness of my gorgeous body. I ran my hand across his pectorals, circling him until I stood behind him. Then I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and brought my knee up behind his before pushing down on his shoulders and forcing him into a crouched position.
“Kneel,” I whispered into his ear and he silently obeyed me. I walked around until I was facing him again. “Your eyes suggest you wish to feast on me,” I accused him, after seeing how he couldn’t keep his eyes off my breasts.
“No,” he whispered as he shook his head while trying to force his attention back to my face. But it turned out to be a losing proposition.
“No?” I asked with a smirk, enjoying the power I held over him.
“Yes,” he replied, dropping his gaze to the ground and shaking his head. He appeared guilty and ashamed.
“You are impertinent,” I reprimanded him. “How dare you look so longingly at your queen?”
“Queen?” he repeated as if the word were foreign to his tongue. Then he began to nod as though something apparently clicked into place for him. “You must forgive me, my queen,” he started, his face st
ill downcast, “but you surprise me, that’s all,” he finished.
“Look at me,” I ordered him.
He faced me with the telltale expression of fear in his eyes.
“Why are you surprised?” I demanded.
“You are different,” he responded in barely a whisper. “When you put the crown on your head, something … happened to you,” he started to explain. He looked up at the crown where it still sat atop my head.
“It is as it was always meant to be,” I answered. “And I am now the ruler I was always meant to be.”
“Yes,” he answered with a nod before dropping his attention to the floor. He seemed upset, sullen, and depressed. His reaction didn’t make any sense to me, but I didn’t ponder it for long. I had other, much more pressing concerns.
“Lift my skirt,” I commanded. I was finally ready to address the burning need that was brewing inside me. I had to; it demanded my undivided attention. The man glanced up at me, visibly in shock and his eyes searched mine, as if seeking something other than what he could see. “Lift it,” I told him again. “Your disobedience does not please me.”
He responded with a quick nod before lifting the hemline of my skirt maybe an inch or so off the ground. I laughed at his weak attempt and felt like kicking him, but resisted the impulse. “Higher,” I said as he lifted it another sparse inch. “Higher still,” I continued until he brought my skirt up to my knees. “Keep going,” I ordered him, angry that he was acting so bashful. When he lifted my skirt to my thighs, he paused again. “Higher, I wish for you to observe me,” I repeated as a broad smile overtook my lips, one that I couldn’t conceal. He lifted my skirt higher, until my nudity was quite obvious to him. “Behold me,” I announced, watching his eyes raking over the flesh he glimpsed between my thighs. “Now pleasure me with your tongue.”
Persephone (The Lily Harper Series Book 4) Page 23
