A Step into Darkscape (The Legacy Novels Book 2)

by Blake Rivers

The light shifted and her serpent armlet grew hot and white. She clasped it. One of the six called to her. Five of them were dead, four before her, harvested and used, all burned up; the sixth however had disappeared with the princess. She closed her eyes and sought to see, but beneath closed lids the fire in the room died to darkness and Jonus’s dead eyes showed nothing. There were four other senses though, and the ear-splitting roar told her where he was. How did you get there? His chattering teeth sounded in her head, his water spilling between her legs. In the distant dark of no perspective, Romany saw a figure of white fire crouched. Could it be…?

  “No, no,” she panted, and Romany returned from the cave, her eyes set on the girl. She was changing quickly, her muzzle flattening, her horn separating and falling to the floor. The light around her waned, the powerful ribbon that stemmed from her lessening to a milky-pale stripe across the heavens.

  But she could not stay to watch. Turning on her heels she raised her arms for flight, red flame consuming her in a rush as she flew up and out, tracing the ribbon with a trail that turned across the face of the moon and plummeted into the river’s chasm.

  *

  With Romany’s fiery departure, Florina was fading fast, her mane falling into the orb’s flames in long, lank strands.

  “Florence?” Hero’s voice sounded out above the departing thrum, the cavernous room slipping to its former red shadow as it beat back Florence’s failing power.

  “Now!” she yelled, and with her last effort she thrust herself up, hind legs kicking, human arms reaching out of the pool to grasp for her sword. His eyes met hers and a soft moan escaped her lips as the last of her magic shuddered from her and into the crystal-steel. She swung the blade toward Hero, and with his face mashed against the bars, he stretched out further until sword touched sword.

  A single spark exploded from the union and Hero was thrown against the wall of his cell again, his head cracking stone. Scrambling back to the grate he saw that Florence had dropped and was slipping into the pool. His head spun as he tried to stand, a heavy warm flow snaking down the middle of his back. His knees gave and screamed as he fell to them, the pain exquisite.

  His heart broke in two.

  The roiling orb of turbulent power had solidified to stone once more, now marred with hairline cracks that webbed its surface; and half submerged, now only stone herself, Florence reached out for freedom. She had one arm raised, her sword pointing toward him, accusing him, while her expression had been set in chiselled pain, blonde hair carved and shaped, parted wild over plain, cold eyes.

  “Florence… Florina…”

  His sword laid against the bars, the metal glinting and sparkling with the last gift of Florina’s unicorn magic. He grasped the hilt and welcomed the cool flourish that travelled his arm, seeping into his flesh, muscle and bone.

  “Burn through,” he whispered, hoping he could command it, the ceiling above continuing to fall all around. “Burn through. Raven? Are you still with me?” There was no answer. “Damn. Burn through.” The sparkles began to race the blade and chase, now beads of light that blurred and stretched, joining into strobes, swimming faster still until the whole blade was alight with the white power of the unicorns. The grate began to heat, the black metal glowing red, hotter and hotter.

  Hero backed up as far as he could into the small alcove, watching with mute terror as the grate bloomed a fierce orange, and then white, dripping molten metal to the floor. Soon the drips were dribbles, streams, and the bars fell away, leaving a lake of cooling silver. He jumped it and tripped, his strength having all but left him, but he couldn’t stop. The blood flowed more freely at the back of his head, but he ignored it and turned to the cell to his left, grasping through bars to touch Raven. There was blood everywhere, the moonlight and red flame painting it black like treacle. He felt his neck, digging his fingers into his flesh to feel for a pulse. There was one, though barely a patter.

  Slipping his charged sword between the bars, Hero touched Raven’s shoulder, willing the power to heal. “Please work, please,” he whispered, his prayer for a miracle as the cell walls split open, the world a constant vibration.

  Raven gasped a breath, a wet sound that gargled in his throat. Alive! Hero spun around and turned to his emancipator as the gallery yawned and tore from the palace wall, falling down into the dark courtyard, leaving a jagged hole out into the dying world.

  Florence was a statue, a gargoyle reaching from the floor. The large orb split and split again, cracking a seam around her chest. She was dead and cold and frozen in time, and would soon be dust. No! Hero placed the blade against hers, his balance precarious as the floors in the tower above began to collapse into those below. A seam of bright fire split the room in half, and with his feet planted either side of it, he aimed the sword at her heart.

  *

  Romany dived into the river, a fiery phoenix joining the dying arc of power beneath the surface. She was not alone though, for the dead chased in her wake, reaching for her, their pleas and confusion always the same and written loudly upon each of their rotten faces. Why did you do this? Why did you let him take us? Each eye remaining in a socket burned into her, each grinning skull mocked—she ignored them, for the dead couldn’t talk and were only dead in the end. Lonely years of wandering had taught her how to be cold, to forget and dismiss. When all you love turns to despair, when all the world changes and all you once knew disappears? That’s when the dead have nothing more to say and give up on you, too.

  The way ahead was lit by a world shattered, and Romany travelled the path she’d never forgotten, back to the place between the layers where the dark lands came together and the chasm closed. The portal, a dark star in the rock, seemed to wink at her as she approached, a dark marker to the limbo where the Dragø had now awoken, incubated within a basalt chamber, ready to break free.

  She planted her heels either side, breathing the heavy water into her lungs, pushing it out in swirls of force. Flakes of the dead crossed her as she looked into the gateway that would take her to the Assassin Princess, who’d somehow found her way in. She would be the power he needed, the one last kick to break free. Romany’s Celestial would be reborn.

  Romany dropped down, stretching as power flushed red flames against her skin, settling as she hit the stone and stepped forward, one hand upon the cold rock, her eyes lighting her way in the dark.

  Fire flourished to form a sword at her waist. She’d fight blade to blade if she had to, Sentry power against Sentry power, for the princess was undeniably powerful, and more cunning than she’d first realised. She drew it now, crouching to enter the Dragø’s domain.

  Chapter Seventeen

  For a moment all was darkness. And then came the fire.

  Ami threw herself back against the rock wall, covering her eyes as the cavernous space ignited in a flourish of fierce flames. The air crackled and burned all around, and through splayed fingers she was able to see the outline of a terrifying beast, painted in shades of amber and orange. With a sudden raucous retch, the fire was extinguished, and the central plume lessened and disappeared altogether, leaving the cavern in darkness once more.

  But not complete darkness, for a lone glow of fading colour collapsed a distance away. Ami shivered at the sight, a blushing case of bones, a ribcage still shifting, stretching out in black rock dust and gravel. In the post-burn air, Ami heard a single finger tap a grasp upon a stone before falling to stir no more.

  That’s when the creature moved.

  Air shifted in the dark and Ami instinctively dropped to the ground as something large swung over her head, hitting the cavern wall with a thunderous crunch. Rock fell from above, the world shaking violently, bounding her across the gravel earth; she dared not whimper. By the time it’d stopped, there was blood in her mouth where she’d bitten her tongue. She healed quickly and swallowed the blood, staying still and small.

  The creature turned, large scales chinking like armour, great talons gouging rock.

  How
was she meant to fight this thing? She couldn’t see to guess its size, yet the heated air was close, and closer still with each movement. It must have almost filled the space entirely, for it moved too tightly, slowly circling as it searched for intrusion, as it looked through unseen eyes for her. Soon it would sniff her out, or light a blaze to reveal her. She had to do something. But what?

  A pale light cupped the domed roof of rock then, quickly spreading to illuminate the cavern. It hadn’t yet reached her when power burst down from it in a forked bolt, striking the revealed hulk of a creature across its plated back. Now she saw it in its entirety as it rose with a roar to deafen her. It was huge. A tower block tall, its long armoured body bent upward in an S, its skull cracking the jagged stalactites, breaking them off to fall beneath its feet. Blood red eyes flashed as its mouth filled with fire. It was a dragon for sure, black of scale and spiked in silver.

  The power pooled again across the rock and struck the mighty beast, and Ami felt the gravity of her remit as it roared and clawed at ancient rock. She must stop it, for above ground nothing would be left standing. Its tail lifted and whipped toward her and she rolled away in time, her sword kept tight to her chest.

  The light faded and darkness returned.

  The dragon groaned a sorrowful sound and huffed, the smell of smoke and fire thick in the stale air. It was hard to breathe. Nevertheless, Ami slipped onto her side and climbed up into a crouch, facing the movements of the Dragø, listening with her eyes wide open. Her course of action was quite simple when she thought about it, however suicidal. She must strike.

  The dome lit a third time and blossomed stark white, flickers chasing shadow across the deep crevasses of its scaled and sculpted head that lay in wait before her, its red eyes sparked and glinting, sharp teeth parting, ready to devour.

  *

  Romany watched from the shadowy sidelines as the dragon filled the cavern with fire, the last of the unicorn’s life force strengthening him from above. It was a sight to be in awe of, the massive demon thrashing and breaking through its prison, and beneath him the so-called Assassin Princess standing small and proud. This was the girl who was meant to be her rival, and perhaps it was vanity to think otherwise, but she would never be her equal.

  Finally the unicorn’s magic gave out and ceased, and with a wave of her hand Romany called off the dragon, its fire swallowed and snuffed.

  All was darkness, silence, smoke and smoulder when Romany approached.

  The girl had raised her sword, but Romany sent it skittering across the ground with another simple gesture. She was no match, just a girl, a silly little girl playing with a stolen magic.

  “Stay back,” the girl panted, her fists raised as if expecting a brawl.

  “Oh no, I can’t do that. You see, your unicorn is all used up and dead, and my pet here is so hungry.” She smirked and swooped low to pick up the sword. She caressed it, but its light didn’t shine for her. The blade was unblemished and sharp, the symbol clearly etched.

  “Don’t release it,” Ami said. “There are other ways, there—”

  “There is no other way.” Her aura grew and burned a tall column, striking the dome as her cry echoed and fell. “Do you not think I have searched for an eternity?” she seethed, stepping toward her, skirting the black wings that rose and fell with the beast’s breath.

  “I have to stop you.”

  Romany laughed, raising the sword and pointing it at the little mouse of a girl. “You? I shall impale you upon your own sword and release the power from both. You’ll die, and I’ll ride the layers, burning the world upon the back of a beast.”

  She lunged forward.

  *

  Ami had only a moment to decide her next and possibly last move.

  Romany thought herself all powerful, but that was her weakness. The truth was that she was a Sentry only in memory, for she was part human too, and they were equals in that.

  Ami thought back to the first moments with Hero in the dark and mysterious Solancra Forest, to the ruins where she fought Adam in the shadows of her mind; she remembered the power within her and recalled the day she’d spent lost by the stream as a child, finding the magic that had led her the right path. Later it had guided her in her creativity and art, the lands she’d never known, lands that called for her… She had a substance and grounding that Romany could never have. She had friends, a home, a love. She had something worth fighting for.

  Romany charged with a scream, the sword up to her shoulder, aimed for her heart, and in her mad-red eyes Ami saw Grammy and Pops, gold and silver.

  The ruins.

  She grasped the chess piece hidden in her pocket.

  The rook.

  With the blade an inch from her chest, Ami clapped her hands upon its tip and stopped it dead. The power within her rose up in curling green ribbons and misted licks.

  I can beat her.

  “What is this?” Romany whispered, nudging and pushing at the blade. It would not budge, but instead began to change shape in Ami’s hands, the metal moulding into a thick grip and pommel, becoming a sword of two handles; then the same in Romany’s hands slimmed and sharpened, changing into a blade that cut deeply into her flesh.

  The blood of the immortal spilt, and in a flash of white retaliation, Romany screamed, throwing Ami back against the rock.

  “Burn her!”

  At her command, the Dragø shifted, a black shadow falling over her. Ami raised her sword toward it, the blade colouring and pulsing, the beast’s throat a fiery tunnel, ready to erupt. Then the fountain of flame released and fell heavy against the blade, arcing around its protective light.

  When the flow weakened, Ami chanced a roll away from the red rocks into cooler shadow, crawling up into a crouch.

  A threat hissed beneath the noise. “I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you.”

  Ami jumped through the fire, ducking the dragon’s tail that swiped at her, swinging round to catch the beast as it careened in circles and shook the earth. The steel was small against the matte-black scales, but an evil green fire was already spinning around the blade, faster and faster, forming a dark crystal shard, finely tipped and infinitely sharp. Ami thrust into its armour and the beast roared, its body a thunderous mountain, the cave walls an avalanche of cascading rock that missed her by an inch. Dust and smoke blinded her as she twisted and turned, losing her bearings and balance.

  Then Romany was at her back, driving a blade of red flame deep between her shoulders.

  The venom was intense, the pain almost unbearable, her screams that of a banshee wailing in the dark. Black spots swam through her vision, each limb screaming ice and fire and steel, her blood running cold and rushing against cut bone and broken flesh to pour to an unknown ground, spilt so far away from home.

  Ami weakened and Romany pushed deeper still, licks of power passing between them. She swooned in darkness and light, watching scenes flash before her eyes of Romany’s Celestial, white stone and marble buildings, meadows of faultless green glade—

  She fell to the ground, turning onto her side, seeing the silhouette of the great, black dragon above, its wings closing around her.

  Romany twisted the blade.

  “Die, Assassin,” she cackled.

  This was it, the end surely—but then she saw it. A single chance.

  Her sword had skittered away from her when she’d fallen, but it still shone a tepid purple light that reflected on the underbelly of the beast. And there, she saw where the scales were worn away by time spent crawling the rock cavern. Scratched and broken, they were a captive’s wound, offering no protection that she could see—but she was dying, surely there was no escaping it?

  A memory scorched through her mind then, a remembering of her time spent in the Solancra Forest with the unicorns there. Talos had tried to teach her how to pass into the power, had practiced with her over and over, showing her how he was able to make himself as if a ghost, to jump rivers as a flash of light and gallop through solid trees and
walls. He’d told her that she could do the same, though she never believed it at the time. But if she could do that, then—?

  Could she become the power?

  Even as the blade inside her deepened, piercing muscle, organs, scoring bone, she thought on it and concentrated all of her will and power to the task. She felt her body shudder, felt it fill with light and smoke as Talos’s had done. She saw herself in her mind’s eye fading as if a ghost, her flesh taking on a sheen of silver white. Her body was crushed against the rock, staked by the witch who’d once been a goddess, yet she no longer felt the pain, only elation.

  Dangerous.

  Ami shivered, feeling the change, feeling her body morph into something new. Something magic.

  The dragon released its fire, but the flames slipped through her, warm but empty, while Romany’s blade skimmed air and pierced rock.

  She stood, luminous and wispy, swirling in colours of violet and green and white, blues and yellows, sparkling, her hair flowing over her shoulders, a white mane of power.

  Romany spat curses, swiping through the mist and fog of a girl now transformed, her sword finding no purchase or flesh to pierce; her scream was a roar that rivalled the beast’s as Ami stepped back and levelled her sword to her chest.

  A blast of white fire sent Romany flying against the cavern wall, breaching the rock and exposing the layers. Turning, Ami pivoted her sword and buried it within the beast’s worn belly. It roared once again, tearing round, its mighty tail and head smashing the cavern walls, widening the fissures, spilling the light of the layers as its tomb broke open. Fire consumed shadows as wings lifted and beat the walls, rock flying through Ami’s body until her powerful form fell to the ground, solid once more.

  “You bitch,” Romany shouted above the fall and fire, “this is my world, my time. You shall not destroy what I create!” She rose, a fallen angel draped in dirt and blood, her beautiful face now a melted mask of fury and vengeance.