Furious Flames (Elemental Book 3)

by Oxford, Rain

  “Over time, it was forgotten about by all but the most powerful wizards. It was written about in fiction and changed forms over time in literature. Then, around 1865, a German man named Heinrich Baldauf experienced a metaphysical attack, which quickly led to an obsession with the supernatural. By 1866, when his second wife died with child, he was certain that he had fallen prey to a demon.”

  “That was common back then, though, wasn’t it?” Vincent asked.

  “Not drastically. Unfortunately for him, he was correct. I have thoroughly scrutinized his accounts and those who knew him. It was real. Worse yet, this demon led him to a key. The actual events were lost to time. He was told that this key would give him infinite power over the entire world, but that he would have to sacrifice that which was most precious to him. He believed he had nothing precious.”

  “The key was to the tower?”

  “To one of its four doors. Almost immediately after attaining this key in 1870, he moved to the United States, where he began building a castle of the most unorthodox nature right above the cave. Here enters Leara Kingling; a demon Baldauf summoned to protect him. While Leara Kingling did agree to protect Baldauf, the German wizard soon came to regret his pact. Kingling was much more interested in finding the tower than protecting Baldauf. He would tease his master by letting Baldauf face death, come inches from the brink, only to be saved at the last possible second by the amused demon.”

  “Did they ever get to the tower?”

  “They built traps in the castle and all the way down through the cave. One day, he wrote that he had made it; that they would break through the final barrier in the morning and reach the tower. He believed that the tower was a gateway to paradise and that each door opened to a different one, including Elysium, Heaven, and the like. That was his last entry. He was found dead the next day, as was his family.”

  To settle his nerves, Vincent finally picked up the cup and sipped his now lukewarm tea. Although he wanted to believe this was fiction, he hadn’t read enough of the genre and his imagination wasn’t that broad.

  His father had taught him magic, his mother had taught him religion, and he taught himself science, since he had a voracious appetite for reading. He believed it made him a well-rounded person until Arthur tried to poison his mind against his mother after she left.

  “What happened to the tower?”

  “His traps prevented anyone from reaching it. Kingling had also disappeared and no one could recall his existence. It was written, but Baldauf’s books were hidden. However, in 1894, Kingling returned and took over the castle, seemingly unknown to the construction workers he had worked around before.”

  “Did he change his appearance?”

  “That is possible. I doubt that is the case, though. I believe the demon erased himself from their minds. For unknown reasons, he was reportedly killed in 1897 of causes unrelated to the castle or tower. I found it very suspicious, but he has not been seen since. The council then attained it, not knowing what was under it.”

  “And you know all this from reading books?”

  Hunt grinned. “No. I know all this because I was offered a key.”

  Vincent choked on his tea, which earned an unpleased expression from Hunt, and used the excuse of trying to clear his windpipe to process Hunt’s words. “So you made it to the tower?”

  “Yes, but not by besting Baldauf’s traps. There are two ways to get to the tower; by going through the caves or via the shadow pass.”

  “What is the shadow pass?”

  “A religious man would call it Purgatory, though I would not go so far as to call it that. If you have a key, you can learn to pass through space like no living person can. You can also use the shadow pass to get to the tower.”

  “So it’s a shortcut?”

  “If you will. With a key, I can also take someone with me as long as they are touching me, but there is a degree of danger. It was given its name because this place is dark. I can find my way after years of practice and natural instinct. When I first started, I could only ever find the tower. I was never alone, either. Something hides in the dark and reaches out for anything that makes a sound. I have been bitten, scratched, and speared because I walked too loudly or spoke in the shadow pass. There is a condition, though. Only one who has killed can enter the shadow pass.”

  “What happens if someone who hasn’t killed anyone tries?”

  “Something horrific, but I never asked for the details. Now, have I intrigued you enough for you to be honest with me?”

  Vincent gaped. “I’ve been honest!”

  “That mark on your chest says otherwise.” Vincent tugged on the caller of his shirt to cover the scar over his heart. “Your father may have forced you into it, but magic like that requires blood, and a lot of it.”

  “We used each other’s blood. It’s a protection spell.”

  “Your face is so sincere, which makes me wonder if he lied to you or if you lied to yourself,” Hunt mused.

  Vincent tried to recall the event; to find proof that he didn’t hurt anyone, but he remembered very little about what exactly happened or how it happened.

  Hunt looked like he was considering something strongly for a moment before nodding. “That is also a possibility. Perhaps your father coerced you with magic to complete that spell and then made you forget the life you took.”

  Vincent felt suffocated. “He was my father! He wouldn’t do that!”

  “Do you know how many lives Arthur took while he was a member of the council?”

  “He wouldn’t have forced me! Why would he do that?”

  “Because he could not risk one of you killing the other. Either one of you could carry on your unique and powerful gene. I assume he married your mother without knowing she had magic. She was probably unaware as well. Knowing him as I did, I suspect he would have forced you both to marry human women and procreate as soon as possible, had he lived long enough. He might have already found a wife for you and was waiting for the right moment. With his power, you never would have known. He might have even made you think you loved her.”

  Vincent stood. “Stop it!” Rosin was instantly in front of Vincent with his mouth wide open in a ferocious snarl. He growled a sound so unearthly that it would send any sane man running for the hills. Vincent sat back down, shaking slightly, for he realized the beast was not from this world. If he had to guess, he would agree with the council in calling it a hellhound.

  “Rosin!” Hunt admonished sharply. The wolf relented instantly and backed up until he was beside his master. “I apologize, Vincent. My own father was a man I was glad to wipe my hands of, so perhaps I was being insensitive.”

  “You think?!”

  Hunt paused, confused by Vincent’s sarcasm. “I do believe so, that is why I said so.”

  Vincent reached for his tea again and found that it was refilled and hot. “I don’t really like tea,” he said, drinking it anyway. It gave him something to do with his hands.

  “Get used to it. You will learn that image is everything on the wizard council. When you hear something you do not like, pick up your tea, sip it slowly, and smile while you quietly plot their painful and inevitable demise. If they drink something as well, poison is always a good call.” Vincent spit his mouthful of tea back into the cup to avoid choking. Hunt grimaced. “Although that might deter anyone from drinking around you anyway.”

  “If you’ve used this shadow pass… does that mean you killed someone?”

  “I have. Never believe a wizard who tells you he is a good man.” A mug of tea appeared in his hand and he drank it elegantly.

  “You’re a lot more powerful than my father. Is it because of the key, or because you killed?”

  “I have leached quite a lot of magic from others, but it is also a combination of genetics and the key I attained. You could say I have a mind for it.”

  “By your tone when you said Baldauf believed the tower doors led to paradise, I assume they don’t. What is in the to
wer?”

  Hunt stood. “I will show you.”

  “First, where is the demon who gave you the key?”

  Hunt grinned. “Right behind you.” Vincent turned and flinched, barely restraining a startled shout when he saw a man… naked, by the way. “Meet Rosin Flagstone.”

  “I’m not a demon,” the man growled, almost as guttural as the wolf.

  “You’re a shifter?” Vincent asked, realizing that the wolf had changed into this man.

  “He is here,” Hunt said. “Where he is from, his kind is called varug.”

  Vincent shook his head. “I don’t think I want to learn anything else. I’m going home to think about this for a few days.” He backed away from the shifter and didn’t realize Hunt was right behind him.

  Darkness swirled around him, getting thicker and thicker with every passing second until he was in utter blackness. Suddenly, although he couldn’t see, he could feel cold air, which seemed to weigh him down. It was unnaturally silent, like the moment before something goes horribly wrong. Hunt’s firm hand on his shoulder guided him in the dark, over a pliant, irregular ground. While hands reached for him in the dark, only the natural instinct to go unnoticed kept his mouth shut.

  Finally, after an unknown amount of time, his feet found solid ground, the weight lifted, and the darkness dispersed… or, at least most of it. Hunt let go of Vincent and he saw Rosin next to him as well. He was in a dark, dry cavern. The light source came from five torches forming a circle around a stone tower. The tower was about fifteen feet in diameter and forty feet in height. Spaced evenly on it were massive wooden doors, each carved with peculiar symbols and designs. While none of the doors had any obvious locking mechanisms, they also had no doorknobs.

  “What could fit inside there that’s so important?”

  “Everything. That was what the demon promised Baldauf. In exchange for what is most precious to you, each key can give you all the power of the world. Just not the one you thought.” Hunt held out his hand to one of the doors as if he was pushing against it. The door opened on its own, just a fraction of an inch.

  Hunt pushed the door open a few inches and revealed only a dark interior. There was a mild swirling in the air, an impression of phantom movement. Rosin pushed him lightly towards the door, forcing him to take several stumbling steps forward. The wind sprang up behind him as if it were trying to push him into the darkness. It became stronger, and he realized that it was something in the tower that was pulling at him, forming some sort of vacuum, attempting to force him in.

  He caught hold of the smooth stone of the tower wall, but couldn’t gain a grip. He felt himself slipping further in. There was nothing to see, not the faintest scrap of light inside. He fought with all his strength to pull himself out, pushing against the stones and door and ground.

  Vincent was suddenly in the air, twisting and tumbling in the dark, falling. At any instant, he expected the crushing impact of a stone floor or wall. The wind shrieked around him. His body felt as if it were being torn apart and turned inside out.

  Then the utter darkness filled his head, and he knew no more.

  Chapter 11

  Vincent woke to water dripping in his face. As he wiped his face with his sleeve, he saw Logan and Rosin standing over him. He climbed to his feet and looked around. Logan studied him. From the massive trees and hot, humid air, Vincent knew it was definitely a jungle, but he wasn’t familiar with every square inch of Earth’s terrain.

  A creature that looked like a beetle but was the size of a house cat scuttled towards him. He took several steps backward until he was stopped by solid stone. The tower. He reached for the door, but it wouldn’t open. With all of his strength, he tried every door. Not one of them would budge. “Give me the key!”

  “I cannot do that.”

  “I’m not going to lock it; I just want to go back!”

  “I understand. I literally cannot give you a key to that door.” Logan held out his hand and Vincent saw his palm for the first time. There were symbols inside a circle, burned into his palm. “Once you accept a key, you become the key. The only way to take the key from me is to take my life.”

  “The tower… It was a portal to a jungle? Where are we?”

  “A portal, yes. Not just to any old jungle, though. As for where we are, the name will do you little good. This is where Rosin came from. Ten years ago, I summoned my familiar. Rosin answered the call, reluctantly. After much aggression and several close calls, he relented and gave me the key to his homeland, Skrev.”

  “It was the only way to stay on Earth,” Rosin added, irritated.

  “On… Earth?”

  “He acts as if he doesn’t like me,” Logan said, smirking. “The tower is indeed a portal. Each door, with its own separate key, is a portal to a different world.”

  Vincent swallowed, suddenly worried that he finally met someone more insane than his brother. “There is no such thing.”

  “That is why I brought you here; I knew you would never believe me if I told you. You came face-to-face with a monstrous wolf of the likes Earth has never met and you still doubted your eyes. See for yourself. To my knowledge, you are only the second being in all of Earth who has seen these lands.”

  “What if…” He looked up at the tower. “What if something else gets in?”

  “With the right magic, a being can be summoned to another world for a short amount of time. The only way for a being to cross between worlds permanently is to walk through the door. It is possible that if someone with a key fails to watch their door, a being could escape. Fortunately, I am very careful to close my door behind me. Besides, my door is not the one that should worry you.”

  “Baldauf. What world does his key open?”

  “I have no idea, and that worries me. Skrev is a beautiful and incredibly dangerous world. I have never dared to venture here without Rosin to guide and guard me.”

  “How do you know the other worlds aren’t all rainbows and butterflies?”

  “What did you think Rosin was when he changed into a man?”

  “A shifter.”

  “And you are correct. Rosin is a shifter, or changeling, as they were once called. Everyone on Skrev can shift, just like Rosin. They are not all varug, though.”

  “So this place isn’t that different from Earth?”

  “Many thousands of years ago, Earth only had humans… humans and this tower. The same tower is also on each world. The only connecting world is Earth and at one time, the doors were all open. Some of the shifters of Skrev escaped to Earth, and they were not the only ones. Vampires, shifters, fae, and wizards are all descended from the beings of these different worlds.

  “The doors were sealed by someone and the keys were made, but how, who did it, and why, I have never discovered. Most likely, it was done by a being of one of these worlds to protect their own lands. All I know is that if a key falls into the wrong hands, Earth as we know it could be destroyed in a matter of days.

  “One of the doors leads to a world inhabited by the original vampires, while another leads to the original wizards. I believe the demon that Baldauf summoned was in fact a wizard on his own world. It makes sense to me, in that case, that the wizards of that world are so far superior to the wizards of this world that we would never survive an invasion.”

  “Why are you coming to me with this? You should go to the council.”

  “For two reasons. One of which I will tell you someday when I feel I would not ruin the course of events. The second reason is that I want your help. I want you to take the second key, help me get the tower, and some day, help me destroy that tower.”

  “How do we destroy it?”

  “We need all four keys.” Logan looked up at the tower. “Unfortunately, the fourth door is still sealed and so the key is unobtainable. Furthermore, I have no idea how to retrieve Baldauf’s key. Until I figure it out, I need you to take the third key.” He started walking through the jungle, followed closely by Rosin, so Vincent ha
d no choice but to follow.

  “Where are we going? What if we lose the tower?”

  “I know my way back to it. You still have doubts, so I will show you.”

  They walked for over an hour. Vincent was tired, sweating, and dehydrated, yet Rosin stopped him from resting at a small pond. “It looks so clear,” he complained.

  “Everything is deceptive in the jungle, especially water. Most water is a trap. Small prey animals during migration will see the water and be drawn to it despite the known danger. Many bodies of water, such as that one, have poisons that will stop your heart in minutes, leaving you the easy meal of predators that are immune to the poison.”

  Rosin suddenly stopped in his tracks and held out his hand to prevent Logan from taking another step. “What is it?” Logan asked.

  “Raduma.”

  “Please tell me you’re making this up,” Vincent said. Before Rosin could answer, a cat landed on the ground in front of them. Vincent looked up and saw that the lowest branch of that particular tree was at least thirty feet high. This cat was also not like anything he had ever seen. Definitely feline, it had a massive and extremely athletic body. It was a little larger than a male lion, black as coal, and had saber fangs.

  Logan made a motion with his arm and static sparked from his hand. “No,” Rosin said. “We are in his territory.”

  “Why would you lead us into his territory?”

  Rosin scowled at the wizard. “I was distracted trying to avoid the three traps you were heading straight for.”

  The raduma hissed, baring teeth vicious enough to make Vincent feel sick. Rosin growled back. His hands began to shift into claws. The cat in turn raised two wings. These wings were absolutely dangerous weapons and they absolutely hadn’t been there a moment before. They were leathery, not furry like his body, and looked similar to a bat’s wing. However, where a bat would have a “thumb,” the cat had a spike.

  “Why the hell does a cat have wings?!” Vincent asked.