Unus (Stone Mage Saga Book 1)

by Raven Whitney

  “I'm Constance.”

  “Pardon my saying, but you don't look like you're from around these parts.” Even though it was a statement, there was an unmistakable request for information there.

  “No, I'm not. I'm coming to visit my friend.” I felt guilty about lying to such a nice man, but how could I possibly explain the truth? Especially when I didn't know what was going on myself.

  “Oh, you must be Lisa's friend from Winnipeg, then, eh? You're a lot younger than I thought you'd be.”

  Grateful that he'd come up with his own explanation, I let him make that assumption. It was easier than lying. Smiling, I replied, “I'm older than I look.”

  “Well, you're coming just in the nick of time. She's due to give birth any day now. I thought she said you had some conference and couldn't make it up here.”

  I shrugged awkwardly. “It got canceled.”

  “The whole critical care, medical thing?”

  “Yep.” This was entering dangerous territory. I scrambled for something— anything — else to talk about.

  “That must be a huge disappointment. I heard you were going to receive some kind of award.”

  “I'm sure it'll be rescheduled.” Gold! There was a family picture with three children taped onto the console. “Are these your kids?”

  And that was it. That easily filled the rest of the air time. He was so proud of his son and two daughters that we could have spoken about them for hours. They sounded like great kids and all, but I was just grateful to be spared from his probing questions.

  Soon, the plane began its descent into Pond Inlet. Like Igloolik, the tiny town was mostly composed of varying sizes of trailers. It was probably easier to bring in a whole building than ship all of the individual materials this far.

  Once the tires hit the ice, the words once again changed on the paper:

  You're getting warmer. Your final destination is Bylot Island. The deadline for your arrival is two hours.

  “Where's Bylot Island?” I asked Michael as we exited the plane.

  He pointed to a stretch of mountains in the distance that wasn't discernible as an island from the rest of the land. “Why do you want to go there?” he asked, as though my request was completely ludicrous.

  Ignoring his question, I asked, “How do I get there?”

  “This time of year, you'd have to take a snowmobile over the channel. It's about an hour.” Predicting my next question, he added, “We don't have any snowmobile rentals in Pond Inlet, but you can ask the Black Point Lodge if they'll rent you one of theirs.”

  “Where is it?”

  He pointed toward the rest of the town. “The lodge is that way. But before you go to either, go to the co-op store and get yourself some real winter clothes or you'll get yourself killed. You'll go past it on your way to the lodge.”

  “Thank you so much.” I flung my arms around him quickly, and before he could react, I dashed off through the snow towards the town. My shoes weren't tall enough to keep the snow out, so my feet were getting soaked and frozen simultaneously with each step.

  The co-op store was a large building covered in corrugated sheet metal and set on stilts that were just visible above the snow line. I asked the woman behind the counter where the winter clothing was. Staring at me with owl eyes, she directed me several aisles over.

  Then it was my turn to be shocked. These clothes were almost as expensive as some of Lexie's! I just grabbed whatever I needed that was in or close to my size and paid with the last of the deposit money and most of the cash in my wallet.

  Since there wasn't a bathroom to use, I settled for a utility closet for a quick change of clothes. I left my old blue jeans and jacket behind as I ran back outside towards the blue building that was the Black Point Lodge, still fumbling with the finicky clasp on the boots.

  Stumbling inside as I finally managed to fasten the tall boots, I pleaded with the manager to rent one of their snowmobiles. There must have been something in my voice— either desperation or insanity— that convinced him to toss me the key.

  I wasn't quite sure how to get the machine started, but a Brown education and a few minutes of fiddling got it roaring. I tore down the open tundra and across the frozen channel, going too fast to be safe, but I was on a ticking clock.

  As I was traveling, all I saw was the white of the flat tundra, the blue of the arctic sky, and the jagged mountains of Bylot Island in the near distance. It occurred to me that polar bears are also white and I could easily run into one and not realize it until I was too close for comfort. I couldn't focus too heavily on that. It would make me slow down and Lexie couldn't afford for me to do that.

  From all of the blinding whiteness, I couldn't really tell when I made it onto the island. I nibbled on my chapping lips when I noticed that the sun was beginning to set. If I didn't get there by dark, I didn't think the clothes I'd bought would keep me warm enough to survive the long, frigid night. I also didn't bring any food or water with me and I didn't know the gas mileage this snowmobile got, but I'd been driving flat-out for more than an hour and it was bound to be running low.

  I stopped and pulled the piece of paper out of my pocket to check the instructions and they'd changed sometime while I was driving. Now, it held two simple words:

  Get in.

  Get in? Get into what? I dismounted the snowmobile and looked around. There was nothing but snow, mountains, and sky. What the hell did it mean “Get in”? Was there an invisible igloo in front of me?

  All of the rage and frustration from this whole miserable day finally boiled over. I screamed as loudly as I could and kicked at the snow in vain. There must have been a rock buried underneath the white blanket, because my foot hit something hard enough that I stubbed my toe even through the thick boots. The pain only added fuel to the fire and I flung a snowball as hard as I could at no target. Because I'd traveled halfway up the globe and my friend wasn't here! There wasn't anything in this goddamn, miserable, frozen wasteland!

  “What the hell is going on here?” I shrieked into the emptiness. I panted in the icy air until I felt something hot in my hand. Looking down, I saw that the paper was burning at the edges and had singed a hole in my glove. I dropped it just in time before it burst into flames.

  I stared at the little black scorch mark in the white snow just as a rhythmic pounding noise reached my ears. Looking around for the source of the sound, I spotted two massive black horses drawing an equally large black sleigh coming around the edge of a rock formation a ways ahead.

  They ran closer, seeming to glide over the deep snow, until they came to a stop with the stairs into the sleigh perfectly in front of my feet. For a moment, I could only stare in disbelief at the weird creatures in front of me. There was no motion in them: no blinking of their eyes, swishing of their tails, not even a heaving of their chests, despite having run at least a quarter of a mile.

  Even though I'd only seen real horses from a distance, it was clear that these were not ordinary horses. They were at least two feet taller than me at the shoulder and were the kind of black that embodies the utter absence of light. But that wasn't the strangest thing about them: they both had massive, saber-like fangs and broad, lion-like paws with talons the size of bananas.

  Feeling brave in my anger, I removed one of my gloves and touched the one closest to me. My hand recoiled in shock as it touched something cold and hard, rather than warm and soft. They were made of stone.

  I turned to the large black sleigh they drew. The paper had said to get in.

  Taking a deep breath, which stung my lungs, I climbed in. As soon as my butt hit the cushy black seat, the “horses” began to gallop. With their incredibly long legs, they ate up the distance with ease. They were going almost as fast as the snowmobile and I'd been gunning it the entire way here.

  Around half an hour into the ride, the shape of a building emerged on the horizon, silhouetted against the setting sun. As we got closer, the building only grew and grew. It was an immense, all-bl
ack, Gothic castle with skyscraper-like towers, spires, and buttresses. The only color in the structure was its enormous stained glass windows, which must have had more square footage in each than my entire house. It wasn't until we were right in front of it that I noticed the castle was encircled by an immeasurably deep chasm. A black wooden drawbridge lowered until it thudded into the snow. The loud, deep sound hit me in the stomach like a punch. I had a really bad feeling about this.

  The horses slowly walked across the bridge, their talons clicking ominously against the wood in the tundra's silence. For a split second, I had the strangest fear that the wooden bridge would give way under the weight of the stone horses and sleigh and we would tumble into the darkness below. As far as the list of things to be afraid of right now went, plummeting into the abyss that lay only feet beneath me wasn't anywhere near the top. Something told me that whatever was in that castle was far worse.

  They came to a stop at a grand staircase, also made of black stone, tucked behind the four-story-tall wall and bridge. My assumption was that I was supposed to get out of the sleigh and open the doors at the top of the stairs. Every cell in my body was screaming at me to get away from here, to run as far and as fast as I could. I had to remind myself that Lexie was in that nightmarish castle all alone, waiting for me to save her.

  I hoped. There was no evidence that whoever was behind this sketchy piece of paper had Lexie. There was no evidence that she was even here. All I truly knew was that she had vanished and wasn't answering her phone. For all I knew, she had some kind of psychotic break and fled her life in Newport to become a bartender in Boca. I had traveled nearly halfway across the globe on fear alone. But going in there was the only thing I could do to help her, so I would jump in head-first and pray that we both came out in one piece.

  With leaden feet, I climbed down onto the black cobblestone pavers of the courtyard. Tandem loud snorts sounded behind me and I turned around to see that the horses were unhooked from the sleigh. They ran up the stairs ahead of me in leaps and bounds and stepped onto black platforms on either side of the top of the stairs. The pair struck dramatic poses and went perfectly, eerily still.

  I faced the imposing stairs, even taller than the grand staircase at the Baxter House. Dread and fear made a pit in my stomach and constricted around my heart. I reminded myself of my purpose and climbed step by step to the top of all those stairs before coming to a stop in front of the immense, mahogany wooden doors, carved with gory scenes reminiscent of an illustrated Dante's Divine Comedy. Surely I couldn't be expected to open those. They had to weigh a thousand pounds.

  Without my even touching them, they creaked open forebodingly and the room concealed behind them came into view.

  6

  The first thing I saw in the suffocating darkness of the castle was the bright light of Lexie's hair from across the cavernous hall. She lay limp on the polished black floor at the foot of an elevated platform. Even bathed in the colorful patches of light cast down from the enormous stained glass window above, the blue and purple bruise blossoming on her face screamed out at me. When she saw me, she shook her head frantically and screamed, the sound muffled against the gag in her mouth. Her eyes were wider than I'd ever seen them in her fear.

  I was flooded with a paradoxical mixture of terror and relief that flooded me and I ran headlong for her on my shaking legs, only to slam into an unseen force in the middle of the room. I beat my fists against the invisible wall from all angles, but it was pointless; I was boxed in like a mime.

  A melodic laugh rang through the air like a tuning fork, bringing my attention back in front of me. Beneath the intricate stained glass window that depicted a disturbing and graphic scene of an orgy of corpses, stood three tall thrones. The center throne was twice the size of the other two and made of golden skulls while the two side thrones were made of carved wood with silver skulls across the top and on the armrests. On the three thrones were three men, all of whom were focused solely on me.

  The center man's flawless, porcelain skin stood out like a beacon against all the black. He had glossy, golden blond curls that cascaded over the edges of his throne and blended in with the gold skulls that made it up. He had a finely wrought, classically handsome face with high, arching cheekbones and plump pink lips that were bordering on feminine. He wore all black leather that molded to his skin and displayed a tall, leanly muscled form. His cerulean blue eyes stared at me with a calculating malice that sent chills up my spine.

  The two men at his sides were equally attractive. The man on the right had shoulder-length curls that were the rich color of a glass of merlot. His skin, while pale, did not compare with the alabaster of the center man. He had a very businesslike look about him with his navy blue, pinstripe suit and gray tie. His uniquely handsome face was all sharp angles, from his nose to his jawline. His bright, grass-green eyes watched me with the same eerie focus of a mountain lion tracking the every twitch of a deer.

  The left-hand man had a boyishly handsome look to him, with broad cheekbones and a dimpled chin. At first glance, his mop of chocolate brown hair and blue jeans made him seem innocuous, like any skater boy. The impression was bolstered by his colorful sneakers and hoodie. But there was a coldness in his doe-brown eyes that gave the charade away and revealed what he truly was.

  The redheaded man flicked a finger and Lexie suddenly went silent and lax. I flung myself against the wall, putting my entire bodyweight into it, to no effect.

  “Be still, Stone Mage. Answer my questions and I will grant mercy,” the center man commanded in a condescending tone. Even though his words grated, his voice itself had a beautifully pure ring to it, like the humming of a tuning fork. “She is unconscious, not dead,” he answered the obvious, unspoken question in my distress as though it were burdensome to do so. His air of arrogance and snide superiority ensured that his answer couldn't be mistaken for sympathy.

  I brought my gaze up to the man, and yelled, “What the hell did you do to her?” The sight of Lexie's bruised, limp body made my hands clench so hard that I felt something hot and wet on my palms. I looked into his blue eyes, as empty as the polar sky, and it only seemed to infuriate him further.

  The invisible force confining me suddenly slammed into my sides, constricting me like a python until I heard something snap inside me. I cried out in pain and tried to gasp for air, but there wasn't any room in my chest. In the back of my mind, I registered that my scream echoed loudly in the cavernous throne room.

  As quickly as the force struck, it receded. Without it holding me up, I collapsed onto the floor. The impact just made the pain worse and a keening cry escaped my lips. Breathless and stunned, all I could do was curl into the fetal position on the floor and try to support my ribs. From the way that they moved underneath my skin, they had to be broken.

  “I ask the questions,” the blond man declared, his tone booking no argument. “First, do you have any bondmates?” He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and resting his head in his hands. His brows furrowed with interest as his eyes studied me intently.

  “Bond-whats?” I squeaked.

  The invisible force flung me backwards the entire distance into the inside of the doors. Rage contorted his otherwise angelic features into a terrifying visage as he abruptly got to his feet and marched towards me.

  “Octavius,” the redheaded man interrupted, his voice was quiet and soft like the hiss of an angry snake.

  The center man, Octavius, stopped in his tracks and turned in place to face the redhead. “Sexus, you have a suggestion?” he snapped, his hostility plain in his voice and on his face, as though his objection had been an insult.

  “Yes. Throw it in the pits. That will show you if it's lying or stupid.” Sexus smiled with a sweet sarcasm. “We don't know what it can do, yet. Why not take its stones for a test drive before you take them? It could be more dangerous than it appears.”

  Octavius shrugged, all of his aggression melting away like a mirage as he conceded
the point. “A fine idea.” With a casual wave of his fingers, two shapes approached from the shadows behind the archways. As they emerged into the light, I couldn't quite believe what they were. It took my mind a few seconds to process that they were zombies. As in, the actual rotting corpses of two burly men were shambling towards me.

  Their cold hands grabbed my arms and hauled me to my feet in jerky, disjointed motions. My ribs flared with pain. From a combination of the terror and the pain, I screamed and thrashed. But their dead, bony hands were locked around my arms like a vise and I couldn't break free as they started to drag me out of the room.

  My eyes landed on Lexie and the sight penetrated my primal panic. “Wait,” I screamed. “You said you'd let her go!”

  Octavius turned towards me with a puzzled look on his face, as though my addressing him was the strangest thing in the world, like the bug under your boot was telling you to go screw yourself. “I do not recall saying that. Why would I release it—” he gestured to Lexie on the floor, “—when I already have what I want?” He snapped his fingers as his face lit up in a lightbulb moment. “I know! Unus, you can have it,” he said to the skater, who stood up and sauntered casually over to Lexie with a sick half-smile on his youthful face.

  With one hand, Unus grabbed an unconscious Lexie from the floor by her hair and pulled her up to face him with ease. He met my gaze and I could see real, honest joy there.

  “Wakey, wakey, buttercup.” He yelled, shaking her violently by her hair.

  The luminosity in his expression told me that she was awake, even though I couldn't see her face.

  Her soft, keening whimpers pierced the depths of my very soul, leaving it open and bleeding. Instinct took over and I fought against my rotting captors. “Let her go!”