Sebastian

by Anne Bishop

  “You asking me to stay?”

  Sebastian shrugged. He wasn’t willing to play scaredy-boy, but he also wasn’t going to insult his friend by indicating he knew which of them really needed company. Besides, Glorianna had said she would be back, and he wanted to be where she could find him easily.

  “A couch,” Teaser grumbled. “Course, you’ve also got koffee, so I guess that’s an even trade. All right, I’ll keep you company. You settle with Philo, and I’ll see if I can snag another ride with a demon cycle.”

  Sebastian remained at the table, knowing Philo would come to clear the dishes.

  “Well?” Philo said, keeping his voice low even though there was no one at the nearby tables. “What happened in Wizard City? Did you get an audience?”

  “We’ll get no help from the Justice Makers. They don’t care what happens in the Den.”

  Philo sighed. “We’re on our own then.”

  Belladonna will help. He didn’t think anyone else in the Den would find that thought comforting, so he said, “Yes, we’re on our own.”

  It stretched out beneath the place where the Dark Ones dwelled. In the land above It, dogs howled a warning, only to be hushed or ignored; flocks and herds of animals stirred, alert and edgy, their simple minds aware that a hunter had come among them. But the best prey ignored their instincts, believing themselves powerful and superior.

  It unfurled a thousand mental tentacles, sending them into that twilight place between wakefulness and dreams—that place that revealed the heart’s hopes and fears. The wakeful mind denied or caged so many desires. The dreaming mind cloaked fears in symbols. But here, in the twilight, the heart couldn’t hide or be denied. Here, in the twilight, was the true feast upon which It fed.

  She’s acting strange. My business depends on her family’s wealth. Has she discovered I have a mistress?

  I put those coins in the money box. I did! But they’ll think I’m a thief and will send me to a different landscape. Maybe even a dark landscape.

  It fed, and fed on, the fears, glutting Itself as It hadn’t been able to do since that long-ago time when It lost the battle to control the world.

  Yes, It whispered through the tentacles. You are right to fear that. It will happen, has already happened.

  Sated, It withdrew the mental tentacles. It had found the Dark Ones. But something tickled old memories, nudging them into a different pattern. So It turned away, intending to leave the city, pleased that It knew where to find the Dark Ones but they didn’t know how to find It.

  Then a mind, rising up into the twilight from uneasy sleep, caught Its attention. Seduced by the powerful emotions, It extended a tentacle, slipped into that mind.

  Yes, It whispered eagerly. Yes, you have reason to fear, reason to hate. Yes.

  But the mind was rising to wakefulness too fast. There was strength there…and power that would recognize an intrusion.

  It left the city, looking like a rippling shadow as It moved under the landscape. The last mind It had touched puzzled It. So much fear, so much rage, so much loathing. But It didn’t understand the word that was the source of all those delicious feelings.

  Sebastian.

  Feeling awkward, Sebastian dropped a blanket and pillow on one end of the couch.

  Foolish to feel that way. Lee had bunked on the couch any number of times when he’d come to visit.

  But Lee was human. Teaser was not.

  “Need anything else?” he asked.

  “Nope,” Teaser replied, pulling off his boots.

  “Sleep well.” Sebastian walked to his bedroom doorway. Before he stepped into the other room, Teaser said quietly, “Pleasant dreams.”

  He turned to face the other incubus, who watched him with too much understanding.

  “There’s a…feel…about you when you’ve abstained from hunting for too many days,” Teaser said. “I know you need to feed the hunger, but…Just be careful, all right?”

  Not knowing what to say, Sebastian nodded, walked into the bedroom, and closed the door.

  Was it apparent to everyone? Or was it that Teaser, being an incubus, could spot the signs of a craving that had taken on the sharp edge of need?

  He undressed, tossing his clothes on to a chair to deal with them later. Then he slipped into bed, extinguished the oil lamp on the bedside table, and pulled the sheet up to his waist.

  In the dark, he felt the steady beating of his heart as he unfurled the power that made the incubi what they were. He let his mind drift as he sought a female mind yearning for a dream lover. This time he wouldn’t try to shape the scenario. She could set the stage for this interlude. And in the twilight of waking dreams, he would provide a face and voice to her imaginary lover, would provide the sensation of touch, would create the stimulation that would arouse her until she came.

  And he would feed on that arousal, on that orgasm, until it eased the hunger inside him. It wouldn’t hurt her. He never hunted to cause harm. But the feelings he stimulated in the female were as necessary to his well-being as food and water and air.

  Please.

  He narrowed his focus to that female thought that resonated with something inside him and tried to strengthen the link between their minds.

  I didn’t want him to feel that way. I didn’t encourage him to want…lustful things…from me. I didn’t!

  Ssh, Sebastian whispered soothingly. It’s all right.

  Why can’t someone love me?

  I can. I will.

  The Landscapers will send me to a bad place. I just want—

  What? What do you want?

  I want to be safe. I want to be loved. I want to be someplace where I’m not afraid all the time.

  He hesitated. This wasn’t a female yearning for pleasure. Daylight! Why had his power pulled him toward her when she wasn’t going to do anything to ease his hunger?

  Please.

  Something warm and sweet flowed through the link between them. Something that lived inside her, waiting to bloom. Something elusive and so seductive it took his breath away.

  Come to me, he demanded. Come to me.

  I—

  The link between them snapped.

  Sweating and frustrated, Sebastian furled his power.

  What had just happened? And why? He had no sense of who she was or where she was. Nothing that would help him retrace his path and find her again.

  And why would he want to find an obviously troubled female?

  Something warm and sweet inside her and so, so seductive. Something that made him feel as if he’d just gotten the tiniest taste of something he’d been searching for—and craving—all his life.

  Sitting up, he rubbed his hands over his face. He was past tired, but he wasn’t going to fall sleep anytime soon.

  Come to me, he thought, feeling his heart ache with wanting. Come to me. Because I don’t know how to find you.

  We have saved the world with stones and mortar.

  And we have made our own prison.

  We cannot leave this place undefended. The Dark Guides, the ones who used the malevolent side of the human heart to create the Eater of the World, have disappeared in the shattered landscapes of Ephemera. We cannot take the chance of them finding this place and releasing this evil. We cannot take the chance of anyone breaking that wall.

  There are too few of us left. We came from lands all across Ephemera to fight the Eater of the World, but now that the world has become a confusion of shuffled, broken pieces, we can no longer find the places we called home. We have no hope of going back to our lives and the loved ones we left behind.

  So we will stay and guard this place. We will protect the people by restraining Ephemera as much as we can. And we will nurture the hope of someday restoring our world by protecting Ephemera from the human heart.

  —The Lost Archives

  Chapter Five

  It swam beneath the sand, but only those with magic running in their veins would notice the rippling dark shadow that soured the la
nd as It passed—and left behind a seductive lure to give in to the dark feelings the heart usually kept well hidden. All creatures responded to the Dark and the Light, but humans, with their agile minds, had always been the best prey—because It had been made to be their predator.

  Which was what brought It back to the part of the bonelovers’ landscape It had anchored to the place called the Den. Full of darkness, yes, but at the core there was Light that made It greedy to devour—and made It shiver. The Den was filled with the same powerful resonance that had given Ephemera the strength to resist reshaping more than a small anchor point in that other dark, demon landscape.

  That would change. The incubi and succubi had become feeble creatures, contaminated by the human prey. But the purebloods that had been caged in Its landscapes were still powerful, still belonged to the Dark. They would be real hunters—and once they reached the Den, their presence would change the Den’s resonance, would dim the Light.

  As It rose to the surface, Its massive form shrank, shifted. A moment later a handsome, elegantly dressed man stood on the rust-colored sand.

  A moment after that, Its scream of rage made even the bonelovers scurry away from feelings so dark and primal.

  Where an alley should have been, there was nothing but stone. Huge tumbled boulders blocked Its path. Even if It made the effort to scramble over them, It knew It would find nothing but stones.

  As It beat Its fists on the stones, It felt that same powerful resonance at the core of this strange landscape.

  Panting, It braced scraped, bloodied hands against the stones as It tried to crush the fear taking root inside It.

  The creatures called Landscapers were so diminished they were no longer a threat, were no more than feeble barriers standing in the way of Its desire to turn all of Ephemera into dark landscapes full of terrors shaped from the heart’s deepest fears.

  But the one who had touched this place…

  A True Enemy was still out there. Somewhere.

  Changing back to Its natural form, It swam beneath the sand until It reached the pile of bones that were Its anchor to the lair of the Landscapers and Bridges.

  Its form shrank, shifted, grew eight legs. Its front legs lifted the bones It had turned into a trapdoor that led down to the tunnel that would take It back to the school.

  Fifteen years had passed since she’d walked down this path at the school, but she remembered the feel of it—the sly rage, the envy and jealousy, the bitter despair that seemed to seep up from the ground beneath the flagstones. Feelings none of the other students, or even the Instructors, had been aware of.

  It felt different now, muted, as if those feelings, once so concentrated under this path that led to the oldest garden at the school, were spread out in a thin skin. But just as potent.

  And she remembered her mother’s warning as she took another step toward the forbidden.

  Being at the school…It’s an exciting time in your life, Glorianna. You’ll be with so many young women who have a power like yours, the same life’s work. And there will be the young men who are training to be Bridges. They provide a different kind of excitement. But despite the power you and the others will learn to wield for the good of Ephemera, you are all, in many ways, still children. And children are not always wise, because they want to be strong and brave and adult—and, therefore, they do not always want to believe that the things adults are afraid of are things that truly should be feared, that should be left alone. That was true when I attended the school. I doubt your classmates will be any different.

  So you must heed this warning, Glorianna.

  “You there!”

  She walked toward the archway. Each step took a moment, took a lifetime.

  The Instructors will take you to an archway and show you the walled garden with the wrought-iron gate. Inside that old garden is a simple stone wall. They will tell all of you that you must never step through that archway, must never approach that sealed gate.

  But children will always want to prove their daring and bravery in front of their peers. So some of them will sneak out at night and go to the archway. They’ll taunt one another into proving their courage by crossing that poisonous ground of thorn trees and bloated mushrooms—and then they will touch the gate to prove they aren’t afraid of what was sealed behind that stone wall.

  “You there! Stop!”

  They’ll tease you, call you names, say that you’re afraid. But, daughter, you must not step through that archway. You must not touch that gate. You are not…quite…like the rest of the students. We come from an old lineage, a secret held by the women of our house. It must remain a secret for the sake of our world.

  Those children, your classmates…They won’t believe what the Instructors tell them—that what is contained will become aware of their presence once they cross the archway and step on ground It defiles with Its existence. They won’t believe something locked away from the world can truly sense them—or harm them.

  But sometimes It does sense them, Glorianna, and It can harm them. Those who approach without the respect due a powerful enemy…Well, things…happen. People get swallowed by the world, lost in the landscapes instead of making their life journey. Even Bridges. Even Landscapers.

  “You there!”

  What is contained within that garden, Mother?

  The—

  The flagstone shifted under her foot, just enough to banish memories and make her see her surroundings with painful clarity.

  She looked down, then carefully lifted her foot and took a step back. Instead of hard earth, the space between that flagstone and the others was filled with rust-colored sand.

  Boots slapped the flagstones on the path behind her.

  She looked at the land near the archway—and shuddered.

  A hand clamped on her upper arm and yanked her around to face a stern, middle-aged man who wore a Bridges badge on his tunic.

  Not stern, Glorianna decided as she studied his face. Grim. Worried. Afraid.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded. “This part of the school is forbidden to everyone. You should know that, Landscaper.”

  Of course he knew she was a Landscaper. He’d be able to sense that power in her, just as she would have known he was a Bridge even without the badge.

  “The wall has been breached,” she said. “It is out here in the world, Bridge, and the landscapes that were sealed by that wall are no longer contained. It is no longer contained.”

  “Nonsense. That wall has stood for centuries.”

  “The wall has been breached.” She stabbed a finger in the direction of the archway. “Look at the ground. If everything was as it should be, that shouldn’t be possible.”

  He looked where she pointed—and she felt him tremble.

  To the right of the path, growing in the shadow of the wall, the ground was speckled with young mushrooms. To the left, dark seedlings rose up from the rotted fruit of the thorn trees.

  He shook his head. “The magics—”

  “Aren’t strong enough anymore to hold back the things It shaped.” She jerked free of his hold on her arm. “You have to warn the Landscapers to guard the places in their keeping and hold those places in the Light, regardless of how strongly the people there may resonate the darker feelings of the heart. You have to tell the Bridges to break the bridges they’ve created and isolate the landscapes. It’s the only chance to find—”

  “Find what?” he snapped. “You want to spread a rumor that a myth—”

  “That wall wasn’t created to contain a myth, Bridge,” she snapped back.

  He seemed thoughtful, willing to bend to the idea that the horror that had caused the first Landscapers to break the world into pieces was once more free to unfurl Its full power and turn Ephemera into a nightmarish hunting ground. Then he shook his head, and his face firmed into stubborn lines. “There’s enough uneasiness because of the incidents without—”

  “What incidents? When did they start?”


  “Three weeks ago, right after Lukene disappeared.”

  Glorianna stared at him. “Lukene disappeared three weeks ago and no one checked the wall?”

  But he was staring back at her, as if finally seeing her. “Where’s your badge, Landscaper? You’re supposed to wear your badge when you visit the school.”

  A stab of shame, the scrape of old memories, must have shown in her eyes.

  “You’re—”

  She raised her hand in a sharp move to silence him. It wasn’t safe to have anyone speak her name. Not here. Not now. “It doesn’t matter who I am. Warn the Landscapers, Bridge, before it’s too late.”

  “And tell them what?”

  “That the Eater of the World is hunting in Ephemera.”

  Something rippled under the land. Something dark and predatory.

  Did It have a lair at the school? It wouldn’t want to keep Its pieces of the world in that old garden. Too much possibility that the Landscapers might be able to reestablish the boundaries, repair the wall, and trap It again. But because of Ephemera’s nature, this was the only place that would give It access to all of the landscapes.

  At least, all of the landscapes that were anchored in the gardens at the school.

  The man facing her looked feverish. Ill. Ugly emotions swam in his eyes—and weren’t quite banished by his true nature.

  “Get away from this path, away from that garden,” she said, her voice low and urgent. “Warn the Landscapers.”

  Another dark ripple. Closer this time.

  She had to get away from here. Now!

  Turning, she strode away from the archway, ignoring the shouts of the Bridge, who, for his own reasons, didn’t follow her.

  At least, she hoped they were still his own reasons.

  Guardians and Guides, let the Bridge turn away from that garden and give the Landscapers her warning. Not that they’d believe a warning that came from Belladonna. She was a rogue, a “threat” to maintaining the landscapes that made up Ephemera.

  She wouldn’t be surprised if they decided she was the cause of the “incidents.” After all, an embittered Landscaper who had, somehow, escaped the wizards’ justice would want to cause mischief and harm to those who could achieve what she had not—status among her own kind and an acknowledged place in the world.