Descendant

by Giles, Nichole

  Eric draws my head back again, and once more I wait for him to slit my throat. Something out of my line of vision crashes and I close my eyes, no longer able to watch. He draws the dagger down to my chest where it hovers for what feels like several long minutes until his grip on my hair loosens and he brushes his hand through it, caressing.

  My eyes open, watching his gaze as he follows the curve of my throat, lower, then returns to my face. A sad smile plays on the corners of his lips. “I killed you before, but it wasn’t on purpose.” He lets go of my hair, his hand drifting to the small of my back, and he pulls me into a hug. “It was supposed to be Theron. I meant to kill Theron, but you wouldn’t let him die. Why wouldn’t you just let him die?” His voice breaks. “You sacrificed yourself to save him, and I never understood. Until now.” Eric slips the detoxifying crystal from his neck and loops the strap over my head, bending his face to mine. I think he’s going to kiss me again, but instead he whispers in my ear, “In ten seconds, duck.”

  “Enough!” Tynan bellows. “It’s time.”

  We break apart, and Eric grips the dagger with both hands and raises it high above his head. “I’m sorry,” he shouts above the din. His voice echoes with force I’ve never heard. “I’m so sorry.”

  I duck, and he brings the dagger down with all his strength, stabbing it into the stone where my ring opened the gateway to hell. The ground heaves once more, opening a three-inch crack that runs across the cave and under the rock walls. An icy wind blows around the cavern, circling until it turns into a furious cyclone, pulling in the mist, the loose minerals, and everything around it. Tynan screams. “You are not my servant or my son! You are a coward. I knew you would fail me, and still I put my faith in you, loved you as my own flesh and blood. How could you do this?”

  Eric grabs my hand as a mournful wail blows through the image of Tynan, who then flickers and vanishes. The cyclone circles, swirls, gathers into itself, and then disappears.

  When the frenzy dies, the silence is eerie. No more demons come through the cracks, but the boulder doesn’t move back into place. My breath feels stuck in my chest and my heart beats so hard I wonder if everyone in the room can hear it. Eric drops the dagger and sinks to his knees, head bowed. His pale face reflects the horror I feel.

  A low moan breaks the awful silence, filtering through the partially opened magical door. Eric raises his head. “We should close that.” We work together, pushing and shoving at the heavy boulder.

  Juri coughs as he’s coming back around. “Am I alive?”

  Eric snarls at him. “Yes, you idiot. Now get over here and help us reseal this door.”

  Juri sits up. “Reseal it? No! Tynan’s coming through with a royal procession. That’s the plan. It’s been the plan for five hundred years. You can’t change your father’s plan.”

  Eric leaps at Juri, draws back a fist, and punches him in the face. “Shut up. You just shut up about Tynan being my father. I’m not his flesh and blood. After being locked up for four hundred and fifty years, he still knows nothing about loyalty. Or love.” He gazes at me. “But I do. That’s why he’s in there, and I’m not. And that’s how it has to be.” He sighs again. “It’s just how everything has to be.”

  He drags Juri to the door by his collar and shoves him against the wall. “Stay.”

  Juri doubles over, clutching his face and wailing about his nose being broken.

  The two of us heave the boulder into place, then Eric backs up so I can turn all the Keys counterclockwise until a green glow snakes around the opening once, twice, three times. The cracks around the door fill with mortar, and then all goes still. I clasp the pendant around my neck and close the glowing stone in my fist.

  Eric wrenches the dagger from the center just as the door becomes a solid wall and disappears altogether. “Well, that was fun. Let’s not do it again for at least another five hundred years, huh?”

  I pat his arm. “Deal.”

  On the far side of the cavern, Kye stirs. “Abby.”

  My breath hitches. I rush over and fall on my knees next to him with Eric right behind me. “I’m here, Kye. Right here. Are you okay?”

  “I’ve seen better days,” he rasps. His eyes flutter open, the deep blue irises cloudy as his pupils struggle to focus.

  Eric strides over, yanks the white stone off Juri’s neck, and hands it to me to tie around Kye’s. “Do you think you can walk?”

  “Traitor.” Kye growls, a wolfish sound. “I’ll kill you if you hurt her. Abby, whatever you do, don’t open that door.”

  The sound that ripples from my throat is too brittle to be a laugh. “Okay.”

  As I help Kye sit up, he takes in the chasm in the floor and the broken bits of onyx and cinnabar scattered everywhere. “What happened?”

  I scoot closer to him and lean against the wall. “Long story.”

  Eric walks back to the door and runs his hand down its length. “I’ve failed you again.” His voice is weighted with emotion. “I couldn’t go through with it. I just couldn’t kill her, Tynan. Not this time. I’d rather see her live, loving another man, than go through the agony of watching her die again.” He touches a small crack—the only indication that the door ever existed—then slides down to the floor, sobbing.

  Kye and I avert our eyes to give him privacy. For now.

  Blood pulses in my throat, and that odd sensation of danger prickles along the back of my neck. I think Kye feels it too, because his body tenses as I help him stand.

  Juri, still leaning against the far wall, glares at us. “Thirty years I’ve devoted to tracking down those Keys,” he says. “Thirty years. I even brought Tynan the hearts of the guardians and passed them through the seal. I gave him vials of my own blood to help strengthen his powers.” He’s yelling now. “What have you done? What the hell have all of you done? You’ve destroyed everything! Everything I’ve worked for is ruined. Ruined!”

  In a blur of movement, the skin peels back from his arm, becomes the sword again, and he lunges at me, screeching. Kye dives between me and the blade, and time slows as I watch the gleaming sword pierce the front of his chest until the tip comes through his back.

  Kye’s face goes paper white and he gasps. “Abby.” Juri pulls the sword out, grinning, while Kye falls to the ground, bleeding and bleeding and bleeding from his enormous, gaping chest wound.

  FORTY-ONE

  Another Attempt

  Juri’s sword drips Kye’s blood in two thin lines along the floor as he paces back to the tomb, wearing a vicious grin. “I wonder if his blood would be enough to reverse the seal? There’s certainly going to be enough of it.”

  Eric’s eyes are wide, his expression one of stunned panic. “Not again. It’s happening again.” He turns to me. “No.”

  Juri taunts him. “You’ve always been a coward. Why do you think I’m here? Master knew you wouldn’t go through with killing her. You never do. But this time, I will.”

  Eric hangs his head, looking defeated.

  “You can’t change fate, boy. No matter how many times you try.”

  Juri dives for me and Eric lunges, dodging the sword as it slices the air, and manages to wrap his hands around Juri’s throat. “Run, Abby. Go now and don’t look back.”

  I’m frozen in place, my legs shaking because I know I’m not leaving. “I can’t. Kye’s dying.” My voice catches, breaks. “I have to help him. I have to try to Heal him.”

  Eric closes his eyes, his jaw tightens, and his throat works with emotion. “Okay.” His energy field glows blue and his fingers squeeze, flexing when Juri slices a gash in his leg, and then in one of his arms.

  The cavern crackles with cold as a gust of frigid air swirls around them. Ice forms on the tips of their hair and in their eyelashes and a thick block of it wraps around Juri’s sword. He opens his mouth to scream, but Eric has him frozen from the inside out before he can make a sound.

  Kye’s blood pools at my feet and I drop to my knees, trying to staunch the flow with m
y hands. His hand brushes my arm and I fall apart, sobbing until I can’t breathe, and lay my head on his chest near his wound. Memories of the past few days streak through my mind like a distant movie I once watched. His heart heaves, stutters, and his energy hiccups, blinks, starts to fade very quickly.

  “Eric, help me.” I push myself up. “I ... I have to ... do something. I have to fix him.”

  Eric kneels next to me, his hand covering mine on Kye’s chest. “What can I do?”

  I’m reminded of the day in Yellowstone when their roles were reversed, and hate the grim reminder of my past failure. “Make sure I stay conscious. If I look like I’m going to pass out ... just don’t let me. Slap me if you have to. Whatever happens, keep me upright. Watch my hands and make sure they don’t stop moving until the light around us turns clear, okay?”

  “Raina.” Eric’s voice is thick with emotion. “Abby, you could die. Healing something this serious could kill you. I’m not going to help you die. I won’t watch that again. I can’t live with it.”

  I ignore his hand on my shoulder and unclasp the pendant to place over Kye’s wound, along with the Sunstone. “Yes, you can. It’s not like you haven’t done it before.” My voice has an edge of cruelty. “You lured me here, betrayed me, and then almost murdered me. Again. You should have to watch me die if that’s what it comes to. And then you can live knowing that it didn’t have to be this way. Again.”

  “All right.” His hand falls away from my shoulder and he gives a curt nod. “I deserve that. And worse. But please ... Abby, please don’t die. I’m begging you. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I just wanted to free the man I consider my father.”

  My hands start the familiar spinning motions of chakra balancing. “Well, it did. It happened. You screwed everything up and now I have to fix it. I have to make it right, just like I did the last time.” The pendant glows green, the energy so bright it hurts my eyes. “Just promise me you’ll get him out of here, get him help. And if I ... if something happens to me, bring my body to my mother so she knows I died doing what I couldn’t do for my gram.”

  He sits next to me, stiff and formal, but nods.

  Kye’s eyelids flutter. He reaches for me and croaks, “Abby, don’t.”

  “Shh.” I put my fingers to his lips. “We aren’t going to argue over this, okay? I have to try. I’ll never be able to live with myself if I don’t.”

  “Come here,” he says.

  I stop spinning long enough to lean in and steal one last moment with him. “I love you,” I whisper. “Through space and time and however many lives we live. Forever and ever.”

  He strokes my cheek with his thumb. “I love you too. Don’t worry, I’ll find you again. And again and again and again. I’ll keep finding you until this curse is broken. I promise. I’ll never stop looking. Never.”

  I swallow, closing my eyes while a tear slips off my face and onto his. “Forever.”

  Kye’s hand slides to the ground and his eyes glaze over when his heart stutters again. My hands—covered in his blood—shake as I spin Kye’s chakras in a rhythm as sure as my own heartbeat. The Healing tones flow strong and true from somewhere inside me and the stones glow stronger, brighter. Light floods into the tunnels. Kye’s energy streams out of his body, broken in millions of jagged pieces, and funnels toward me, spinning and spinning in a tornado of colors. The broken pieces rise and fall, rise and fall, and then surge into me with a blinding flash. I taste nickeline in Kye’s blood, then iron and cinnabar. A flood of poison burns down my throat. Spots blink in my eyes—white, red, blue, black, yellow, orange—but I keep my arms moving, don’t let myself pause, even when my muscles get tired, and a hot ache like nothing I’ve ever felt before spreads through me. I spin and spin, swallow more energy, more poison, more and more and more. Everything, every virus, every illness, every scar Kye has accumulated in his life, flows into me, and still my arms hold on to the steady motion. I hum, sing, chant centuries-old charms Gram never taught me but that I somehow know.

  The energy pours into me, through me, fills me up, and then, when I’m sure I’ve mended it all, I reach down, deep, deep down into my most inner self and push it—everything good—back into Kye.

  Fire spreads in my blood, hot like lava, pressing weight on my lungs, and oxygen feels precious but so hard to catch. I try to cough it up, to become an erupting volcano and expel the horrible pressure building inside me, but it keeps building, and my body feels hotter and hotter. The pendant spins like a top, hovering over Kye, glowing like a light bulb. My chest feels tight, I can’t breathe, and then I’m falling down a tunnel. Sinking. Falling. Sinking.

  “Abby!” Eric sounds alarmed, but so far away.

  The room is in motion. Kye reaches up to touch my face, his cobalt eyes stare into mine, through mine. “No, Abby, stop.” His wide eyes reflect his panic, but his voice is stronger now. “Don’t do this. Stop it. I don’t want you to do this.”

  My eyes are heavy, so very heavy, but I fight them open. “It’s already done.”

  His hand falls away and his eyes close again.

  I keep going, keep working until the energy around me swirls and melds together and I can no longer feel Eric’s touch on my shoulder, until my toes go numb and my lungs can’t catch air. And then everything goes black.

  It’s over.

  FORTY-TWO

  Choices

  Bright light shines through my closed eyelids and the air sighs with music. I’m floating, surrounded by luxurious fabric that feels like feathers on my skin. There is no trace of hunger or the nausea and ache I expect, but something is familiar. A soft scent I can’t quite place. Baby powder, ocean breeze, fresh-baked bread, fruit on the vine, rain, all mixed together to make a unique and wonderful perfume.

  I’m warm, relaxed, content, until I reach for Kye, expecting him to be lying beside me in this heaven, but my hands clutch empty space.

  “Open your eyes, Abigail.” The words glide over me, the sound of angels singing, of rain softly falling, of waves crashing on the shore of a perfect, untouched beach. It floats over my skin, into my ears, the voice of a mother to her child.

  So I obey.

  My bed is circular and surrounded by a flowing, gauzy substance. Three women hover near my feet. The one on my left smiles. A mane of blonde hair cascades past her waist, and without reason, I know her as Macha, goddess of war. To my right is Badb, goddess of death, with her rippling waves of midnight hair and shrewd, unblinking eyes.

  Between them, with fiery ringlets of red hair curling around her body and eyes the same green as the emeralds in the Pendant of Sadira, is Morrigan, the supreme fertility goddess. The oracle. The head goddess of the Morrigana.

  These three great queens are the heart of war and rebirth, regeneration. Their presence is all at once overwhelming and familiar, as if I’ve met them before, known them as friends or mother figures in another existence.

  I push myself up and realize I’m no longer wearing the silver dress from New York, but a soft white one that drapes around me, flowing down my legs to my toes. Warm calm spreads from the bottom of my heels into the rest of my body, blurring my memory until everything feels fuzzy, faded. “Am I dead?”

  Badb answers in a throaty, seductive voice. “Do you wish to be dead?”

  Confused, I tip my head to the side. “I don’t know. Is this what dead is like? Am I in heaven?”

  Macha’s laugh sounds like tinkling bells. “Oh no, Abigail. This is the crystal castle. You’ll remain here until your true destiny is decided.”

  I rub my hands over the silk bedding, feeling it glide between my fingers and tickle my palms. “Decided?”

  “Your body has taken in a great deal of broken energy, but your soul is strong and fighting, your life purpose incomplete,” Morrigan says, clasping hands with her sisters. “What do you desire, Abigail?”

  I slip to the edge of the bed, curling my legs under me. “What are my choices?”

  Morrigan spreads her right
arm wide. “You may choose to continue your human life. There will be anguish and sorrow in your future, broken hearts and death. Wars will rage, battles will be won and lost. Some humans find joy and then they create more life, more humans who will suffer for their own happiness.” Her left arm spreads now. “You may choose a life of paradise in the world of eternal youth and beauty, located on the Phantom Island of the legendary Tir na nog. In this place there is no heartache, no war, no death. Only joy. You will need no one, and be needed by no one. You will be free from the burdens that bind you in the mortal world. But you will go there alone. There is no returning from Tir na nog, where unions between souls do not exist. The man you loved will be erased from your mind, replaced by the pleasure of paradise. You will know nothing but singular contentment.”

  For the first time in my life, my heart feels free, light.

  Empty.

  Why am I here? My mind is full of clouds, my memories fuzzy, broken. It takes a great deal of effort, but a face shimmers in my mind. Eyes blue as sapphires that seem as deep and endless as the sea, a dimple bending his left cheek, a lock of wavy blond hair falling across a tanned forehead. A familiar voice. I love you too ... I’ll find you again ... I’ll never stop looking. Never.

  Kye.

  “Did I save him? Did I Heal him?”

  The women nod in sync. Morrigan answers. “He lives.”

  The voice burns like sunshine in my memory, bringing back flashes of other people, other places, other things I know I should be doing. A deep ache of longing settles in my chest. I don’t want to forget. “I promised I’d come back.”

  Morrigan’s hands flutter across my forehead. “Your body has endured much. Should you return, you’ll experience excruciating pain.”

  My fingers run curiously along my arms, touch my skin, pull hairs, pinch. There is no pain, only a pleasant sensation of pressure. “But ...” The boy. Already, I’ve forgotten his name again. A sense of panic wells up and squeezes my throat, though I’m not sure why it’s so important that I remember this one detail. “Why? Why can’t I remember?”