by Ciara Graves
A loud clap of thunder had me looking to the sky. The rift was nearly opened. I had to ensure everyone had their orders for the fight to come. With one more look in the direction Seneca disappeared, I shook out my head, then blurred back to the encampment.
Chapter 8
Seneca
What the hell are you doing?
“Shut up,” I snapped as I marched through the trees, keeping out of sight. My lips still felt Draven’s from our kiss, and my gut told me to turn around and go back to him. I needed him. He needed me. We had to do this together. I forced my feet to a stop, but a harsh pain stabbed through my gut and I clutched at it, falling to the ground. “Just stop it.”
We told you what we wanted, and you agreed. Now you think to betray us?
“Not… betraying,” I muttered through clenched teeth. “I won’t turn on him. I’ll kill Rudarius, but that’s all.”
No, you’ll kill him, and then the real work will begin.
I dug my hands into the dirt and grass, scrambling to hold onto anything to keep me grounded. But the world tilted anyway, and suddenly I stood in a dark dome, fog crowding around my feet, and shadows with hundreds of blinking eyes looking at me.
One figure broke away from the others, the face covered with a familiar mask.
“You will do what we command,” a woman’s voice said firmly. “There is no other choice.”
“I can’t do this, alright? This isn’t what we agreed.”
“You wanted this power. You knew the cost.”
“I knew we wanted the same thing. If you want anything after Rudarius is dead, that’s on you.”
She grabbed hold of my arm and yanked me upright, her touch burning. “We can’t exist without you. You are the last of us, Seneca, our last link to existence. Otherwise, we fall into the void. Is that what you want? Your entire race gone, just like that?”
I tried to form words, but it was like she stole my voice away.
“Rudarius is only the beginning,” she went on. “The world has yet to see true power and strength. You will bring back our people using our power. You will find a way for us to be free from this cursed afterlife.”
“It’ll tear me apart,” I whispered, fear flooding my veins like ice. “I can’t. I’m not strong enough.”
At my words, stabbing pains shot through my middle and I gasped, clawing at my chest as if that would stop it, make it all go away.
The woman’s eyes were cold as they bored into mine. No mercy, no sympathy. Only ruthlessness and an insatiable hunger for blood and death. For power.
“We will be free,” she went on. “And you will carry out your duty. Rudarius must die for us to live. If Draven gets in your way, if he does not see reason, then you will kill him. Do you understand? We have waited far too long to be stopped by love.” She sneered as she spat the last word and dropped me to the ground. “There is no time for such soft emotions. Not anymore.”
She walked away, leaving me with an arm wrapped around my stomach, feeling like I was going to be sick. All this time, I wanted to believe what I saw in that vision of the past, and what Macron told me about the Sa’ren fae. But it wasn’t just darkness pressing in around me, but hatred, pure and unfiltered. The darkness they used to fuel their power, my power, twisted them around inside somehow. What would’ve happened if the So’run never banished them in the first place?
I wasn’t sure what drove me to do it, but when the woman turned back to face me, I lunged forward, reaching for her mask.
My fingers found the edge, and I yanked it free. “What the hell?” I whispered as the mask fell from my numb fingers and shattered at my feet.
The woman’s face was half missing, bits and pieces having rotted away over the years. Her eyes were the only thing that appeared normal. Her lips were gone, and a hole passed through both her cheeks. When she made an attempt to smile—if it could be called a smile—the skin that was left flaked and fell away. The muscle beneath had deteriorated, and bits of her skull peeked out from her forehead. They were yellowed and diseased. A wretched smell struck me in the face, and I stumbled back, trying to get away. Hands grabbed hold of me and threw me straight back to her. She held me close, her disgusting face almost touching mine as I gagged and thrashed.
“Not pretty, is it? The decay of time? This is what I’ve become since being banished to that world, but no longer. Unless you care to join us, you will do exactly as we’ve planned.”
I gulped but found myself nodding.
“Good. Do not let us down, Seneca. Continuing to fight us will kill you. And when your soul winds up here, I’ll be certain to show you what true torment is. Hint? It’s nothing like what Rudarius did to you, my precious girl.”
She threw me backward, but this time I slammed into a tree. I was back in the woods, gasping for air, and unsure of how much time had passed. Judging by how much larger the rift was, I’d been out for an hour, maybe more. The pain in my body subsided, but each breath was harsh, as if I’d swallowed cut glass. For once, the voices were silent inside my mind, but their presence was there all the same. There was nothing I could do, at least not yet. I’d focus on the main problem, and that was killing Rudarius. Once he was gone, I’d find a way to fight back. I had to. I paused, waiting for a sharp pain to stab at me, but there was nothing.
For a long while, I stayed right where I was, watching red lightning crackle across the sky. I couldn’t go to Draven and tell him what was going on. He’d lock me in a room, try to keep me out of the battle and then they’d fall.
But if I fought in it, if I let the power take control, the battle might be won, Rudarius could end up dead, but where would I be? And Draven, if he didn’t agree to side with me…
No. No, I wouldn’t think that yet. There was a fight to get through first. Preparations to make. Taking a moment to steady myself, I lifted my chin and hurried from the woods and into the camp.
Most glared at me as I passed, but I brushed off their anger and confusion. There was no room inside my mind for anyone else right then. Only me. The last few days played over and over in my mind, how cold I’d been, and heartless. Bits of who I’d been were falling away faster than I could try to save them. Would there be anything left of me when this was over?
I reached the armory tent to find it empty. Good. Not that I needed a physical blade but fighting without one seemed like a stupid idea. I ran my fingers over the black hilts until I found two small daggers that suited my taste. I pulled them from the rack and spun them in my hands. They had a good weight to them. I shut my eyes as I stepped into the open space of the tent and lowered my hands to my sides. All my time under Macron’s training came back to me. I started slowly at first, moving fluidly with the blades, then picked up speed. My feet moved easily, and I finally was able to clear my mind of the chaos. Small slivers of myself broke through the haze. If I could just hold onto them, if I could keep them safely tucked away from the power of the fae, I might stand a chance.
The second had that thought, it was like someone stabbed me in the back with a hot poker. I screamed, mostly out of anger, and launched the daggers across the tent as my eyes flew open. Both blades embedded in the main support post.
And right beside it, his face unreadable, was Draven.
I turned my back to him, not wanting him to see the pain I was trying to hide. “Sorry, didn’t see you there.”
He said nothing, but the wood creaked as he yanked the daggers free. Their hilts appeared at my right, and I took them with a nod of thanks. I waited for the lecture, waited for another inspiring and rousing talk about how we’d find a way to survive this fight. Instead, when I glanced over my shoulder, I was surprised to find him removing leather bracers from another rack.
“Draven,” I started to say, but he shook his head.
“Don’t, please just… just don’t.”
I assumed he was getting himself prepared, but he already looked like he could charge into battle at any second. He came toward me and reached f
or my left arm. I let him take it, watching as he deftly set the bracer on my forearm, then fasten it. I switched the daggers to my left hand, and he repeated the process with my right arm. He reached for a leather belt with two sheaths at the hips and stood behind me so he could attach it next. Every instance he touched me sent a longing through me, but I remained perfectly still. My breathing turned ragged and my pulse shot up, but still, he said nothing, and I didn’t either.
What could I possibly say after everything I’d put him through? Or when I knew there was worse yet to come?
Thick, leather shoulder guards that ended up not being as bulky as they looked went on my shoulders next. The final piece was a leather and chainmail chest piece that fit me like a comfortable corset, if such a thing existed. I’d never worn armor, not like this. The moment became real at that moment. We were about to be in a real battle. Not the fae trying in vain to cover a retreat, not defending a castle. An on-the-ground, full-out battle with an enemy bearing unknown powers. My hands shook, and I curled them at my sides.
Draven’s fingers ran through my hair, working out the knots as he went. When he started to braid it, I shut my eyes against the burning tears. If only we could go back and decide not to go after the rings. If we’d found a different way to stop Rudarius, maybe we wouldn’t be facing possible death sentences.
When he finished the braid, he laid it over my left shoulder. On impulse, I leaned back into his chest, waiting for him to push me away or leave. But his chin rested on my shoulder as he held me close, breathing me in.
“We have a fairly solid plan,” he said quietly.
“I heard.”
“There’s a chance it won’t work, that we’ll fail.”
“There’s always a chance of that happening.” His arms tightened around me, and I wanted to turn and face him, but something stopped me.
“When we break through the lines, when we have our chance to attack Rudarius, you and I will go after him together, understand? You are not to rush in there and fight him alone.”
“No.”
He hissed. “Seneca, do not argue with me, not now.”
“I don’t want to, but you don’t understand. I don’t want you anywhere near me when the fighting starts. I’ll take care of him. He’s my problem.”
“Why? Why are you doing this to me, huh?”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“Yes, you are,” he argued hotly. “You’re asking me to watch you go after him alone. To watch that damned vision play out and I won’t do it, you hear me? And you can’t ask me to. We will face him together. It’s the only way to win.”
Another surge of pain tore through my stomach, traveling right to my heart and I bit back a curse. My body stiffened though, and then Draven spun me around, searching my eyes for an answer. The second he sensed the agony I was in, I knew it. His lips parted, and he crushed me to him as if—by sheer force of his will—he could save me from the internal torment I endured.
“I have to do this on my own,” I whispered into his shoulder. “If I don’t… I just… I don’t want to hurt you.”
He pressed his hand to the back of my head, just holding me. If only his arms could protect me from what lurked inside myself. Protect me from what was even now struggling to claw to the surface and force me away from him. I clung to his coat harder, burying my face in his chest.
“When the fighting starts, you stay away from me.”
“Seneca,” he argued, but I shook my head and looked into blue eyes that held a strong love for me. One I’d never imagined I’d experience in this lifetime.
“You do it, Draven. You stay as far away from me as you can.” I slipped from his arms, shaking my head as he made to pull me right back. “And as soon as Rudarius is dead, you find me and you… you do whatever necessary. Promise me.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You promise me, Draven,” I yelled. When he still held back, I did the only thing I could think of. I drew one of the daggers and aimed it right at his heart.
The voices inside me perked up at my move, urging me to finish him off now and be done with it. I looked into Draven’s eyes, ignoring their fierce chanting the best I could.
“Promise me,” I uttered, the words strained, “you will stop me. Whatever the cost.”
His jaw twitched, and he reached for my hand with the dagger. “I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can.”
My hand shook even as I said the words. His fingers closed around my wrist, and I was too weak to fight him. The voices fell away to nothing, and in those few seconds, I saw everything I was about to lose. Draven leaned in and brushed his lips softly against mine. But it wasn’t enough. My hand fisted in his shirt and dragged him to me, kissing him like it was our last time together because, in all honesty, it probably was.
Then the voices were back to screaming at me and the hand with the dagger nearly implanted itself in Draven’s neck. I stopped it in time, spun around, and marched for the tent flaps.
“I won’t do it,” he called after me. “I won’t give up on you so easily.”
“You should,” was what I heard myself say, my voice no longer just mine. I sheathed the dagger at my hip and stepped outside to find everyone else in the camp had stopped, as if some spell froze them in place. I walked a bit further hearing Draven’s steps fall in behind me. Everyone looked in the same direction, and when I finally shifted in that to look, I cursed.
There across the field. It wasn’t merely a rift, but Rudarius’s entire fortress. The massive abomination was a thing from nightmares, one I remembered all too clearly, with its four towers rising into the sky, a formidable wall, and black portcullis. The rift remained opened beyond it and pouring out the front gates was his army, far larger than I ever believed he could muster. He’d come because I pulled him to me, I taunted him with his death.
And now, I was going to be responsible for anyone who died this day.
Finally, our time has come. Remember your promise, Seneca. Nothing else matters. Nothing.
I buried my emotions as deep as I could, along with my thoughts of Draven. They’d only distract me now. Draven called out orders behind me, and I jumped, along with everyone else. An eerie quiet fell over the fields, and even though voices called to one another and weapons clanked as they were passed around and strapped on, the quiet remained, muffling all other sounds. My rings crackled and a rush of desire for blood, a desire to kill, filled me. I stepped forward and continued to walk, following the rest of our army toward the field.
The mages lined up near the rear, the demons creating a protective wall of solid muscle around them. The fae were nowhere to be seen, while the vampires took their places toward the front of the columns. The coven leaders along with Owen, myself, and Draven stood on the frontline, waiting. I’d say we were ready, but could anyone ever be ready for this moment?
A familiar tugging started in my mind, and I was about to tell Draven, but then I gasped and bent over double. My vision swam, and I found myself mentally thrown to the side as Rudarius forced his way into my mind.
Apologies, Seneca, his voice hissed through me, it will only be for a moment. Unless of course, you have decided to forget this plight of yours and join me?
“Go to hell,” I spat, earning a concerned look from Draven.
Ah, that is a shame. How many are you willing to lose this day, hmm? All to try and prove you are stronger than me. Clearly, you’re not. You never were. An oversight on my part, one that will not happen again.
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”
His furious snarl had me cringing. I cursed him, but my mouth wasn’t mine to control anymore. All I could do was stand in a void of nothingness and watch as Rudarius straightened my body and grinned darkly.
If only he could see past the surface and realize the cesspool he just waded into.
If only he could see the choice was no longer mine to do anything except fight. To kill.
Chapter 9
Draven
My hand was inches away from Seneca when she straightened, and a pair of red eyes glared back at me. Not Seneca’s eyes.
“Rudarius, let her go. Now.”
“Don’t worry,” he said with an evil laugh, “I won’t stay long. I merely want to talk.”
“What for?”
He spread Seneca’s arms wide. “This is your army? Quite small. Do you wish to see them all slaughtered this day?”
“You’re not giving us a choice.”
“Ah, that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m giving you a choice here and now. I understand we’ve had our differences in the past, but I am more than willing to put those moments behind us.” He tilted Seneca’s head to the side, looking at me intently. “Why not come together now, hmm? You have shown how much potential you truly have hidden with you. I could use that in the future that is to come.”
“One where you destroy anyone who doesn’t agree with you? Anyone you don’t like? I’ll pass.”
He sighed heavily as if he was speaking to an annoying child. “Pity, such a pity. You know,” he whispered as he leaned in, “between you and me, I don’t think Seneca’s going to make it out of this fight unchanged.”
I snarled, but there was nothing I could do to him while he was inside Seneca’s body. “Maybe, but I’m not the one who’s scared of her.”
Seneca’s eyes narrowed. “Is that what she told you?”
“She doesn’t have to. I can see it for myself, smell it too. You’re terrified. It’s the only reason you came here. Maybe you’re the one who should consider retreating.”
The red flickered, and Seneca’s voice pushed through Rudarius’s. “He’s right. Run while you can.”
But it didn’t last long, then Rudarius was back, gnashing her jaws. “I will not run. You both will rue the day you thought you could defeat me. Neither of you are walking away at the end of this battle. They’ll find your corpses, torn to pieces by my army. Just remember, when the cries of the dying start, you could have stopped this.”
