Daniel Taylor and the Scepter of Power

by Monica Davis

He heard their poisonous laughter. We would if we could. He’s always one step ahead of us. We can’t see him; the eye of Horus makes him invisible to us. But you can see him, thanks to your impure blood. You’re his son, and he’ll trust you. He won’t kill you or disappear when he sees you.

  Disappear? You mean, translocate? His father was a watcher …

  Yes, we mean translocate, you idiot.

  Silvan’s mind was whirling as the demons gave him instructions and obstructed his memories. It was as though certain areas were simply shut off to him. Silvan felt pain and anger, but also a casual disinterest. He would gladly fulfill the demons’ every wish, if only they would release him.

  This moron is a tough nut to crack; he has too much of his parents in him, Silvan heard Metistakles say before he passed out from the pain.

  Silvan felt someone shaking him and woke up. What had happened? Why had he fallen asleep? He was lying on his bed in the underworld, and the three high lords were standing around him.

  Obron leaned over him, his face just a millimeter above his own. His black irises seemed to spin.

  Silvan began to feel dizzy.

  “Do you understand?” Obron asked. “As soon as you have the scepter, bring it here. Don’t touch it directly; wrap it in this cloth.”

  The scepter! Right, he was supposed to get it for them. Of course he’d do that. He’d do anything for them.

  Silvan nodded. He took the piece of black fabric from Obron and stuck it in his pocket.

  As Silvan listened to what Obron was saying, his heart skipped a beat, but he took it in stride: “You’ll kill Carpenter as soon as he’s given you the scepter! We don’t want the watchers to learn anything more about us.”

  “You worthless cow, why have you disobeyed my command?” Metistakles growled. “Antheus told me that you actually helped the half-blood to protect the girl!”

  Can’t deal with it, can you? she thought. Leave me alone! All of you, just leave me in peace!

  “Why haven’t you gone up there already? Silvan is probably already with Carpenter!”

  Metistakles hadn’t let the others in on his knowledge. Marla smiled. Down here, everyone played by their own rules. Herself included.

  “Go on!” he hissed. “Or I’ll slap that idiotic grin off your face.”

  Marla was sick of being ordered around constantly, and she was tired, so very tired. Resigned to her fate, she shut her eyes and muttered, “You go.” She had come to realize that the high lords would never accept her. Her entire life had been spent trying to please them; she had done everything that they demanded of her, even relinquishing the majority of her abilities. Marla suddenly knew that Metistakles would never free her, no matter what she did for him, not even when he no longer needed her. Soon no one would need her at all, which was both good and bad.

  Did any of that matter anymore? She would die soon enough anyway. When Ilaria had revealed her fate, Marla had almost been knocked off her feet. Suddenly everything was meaningless. Almost everything.

  “What did you just say?” Metistakles asked, his voice dangerously quiet. “Where’s your respect?”

  Marla felt him crouch down beside her on the bed, her old, hard mat. Mike’s bed had been so heavenly soft … “I think you heard me.”

  After getting to know a few kind humans, Marla had begun to understand what had driven Kitana to leave the underworld. Why she had run away with a human.

  Metistakles wrapped his fingers around her neck and pressed, simultaneously bombarding her mentally with massive waves of pain so that Marla involuntarily writhed and screamed. “You’ll bring me Silvan’s human lover at once, or your life is forfeit! She’s the only thing that might still be of use to me!”

  Marla was motionless now; only her choking sounds echoed through the dreary room. Should Silvan fail, Metistakles would indeed need Vanessa. But she would never do him this service. That knowledge gave her a little satisfaction.

  Her throat seemed to be on fire, and needles were boring into her head. Her eyes were throbbing as though they might pop right out of their sockets. Her lungs cried out for air, and an icy sweat broke out over her entire body. Air, air, air! every part of her seemed to scream. If Metistakles would just kill her, there would finally be an end to her suffering. Marla had the feeling that something within her had torn apart; she no longer knew who she really was. She sensed that her brother was in the same position. But her connection to him weakened as Metistakles continued to strangle her. The pain eclipsed everything else.

  “Where is the little whore? Tell me!” Metistakles cried angrily.

  Just a little more, then it’ll be over, she thought.

  Marla really didn’t know where Vanessa was just then. She couldn’t track her down — with the help of her crystals, Silvan had hidden his girlfriend well, and she hadn’t spoken with Vanessa since then. It was better this way. In Marla’s weakened condition, Metistakles would surely have uncovered any secret. Vanessa might be anywhere in the world, since Silvan had mastered the art of creating portals.

  “Why are you suddenly so stubborn?” Metistakles yelled, his rage increasing. “I can feel your life slipping away between my hands!”

  Marla’s connection to others of her kind was already very weak. She saw a tunnel stretching out before her, and Kitana was waiting for her at the end of it. She felt no more pain, only a soothing peace that enveloped her like a protective shield. Was this the end that the Oracle had foretold? The Oracle was always right.

  But her mother shook her head. “Not yet, my child,” she said softly. “You have to help your brother — he needs you!”

  “Are you an angel?” Marla asked, floating ever closer to her mother. Kitana looked beautiful; she wore a white gown, and her black hair was blowing around her shoulders. Marla wanted so badly to go to her.

  Kitana nodded, smiling. “Yes, I’m an angel. I’ll be waiting for you next time as well, but your time has not yet come.” Suddenly, Kitana sent a mental wave toward her. The pressure threw Marla back to the tunnel’s entrance, and she could hear Metistakles talking to her. However, her mother had also sent her information in the form of an intense vision: Silvan would never become Overlord, even though it had been prophesized — the High Council would never tolerate a half-blood among their ranks. Silvan and Marla were merely tools they were exploiting in order to get their hands on James and the scepter — they served no other purpose. This was the only reason Marla hadn’t been killed long ago.

  “I thought that might be the case,” she told her mother. “What’s the deal with this scepter, anyways?”

  “My great-grandmother Anastissa was a watcher with extraordinary abilities. Unfortunately, she was corrupted by the forces of darkness and created the Scepter of Power. In a fit of megalomania, she decided that she wanted to enslave the world. The scepter can only be activated by a magical creature like us, but because Anastissa’s blood flows within the artifact, only someone of her lineage can access the full power of the scepter. That would mean Silvan or you. However, the Oracle revealed to me that with the help of the scepter, Silvan would have the potential to do almost any kind of magic imaginable.”

  “Because his father is a watcher,” Marla murmured.

  Kitana nodded. “That’s why Silvan must never get his hands on the scepter. He could easily be corrupted by the power, since his demonic side is so strong. The Oracle also told me that a young man will seal the fate of the scepter. That can only refer to Silvan.”

  “How does the story end?” Marla asked, not wanting to leave her mother.

  “Anastissa’s own daughter rose up against her, killed her, hid the scepter, and went into the underworld disguised as a demon, knowing that the Watchers’ Guild would never find her here. Many on their side were after the artifact as well. Anastissa made many artifacts, among them the medallion with the eye of Horus, which later protected her daughter. Ilaria keeps watch over several of the objects. I wasn’t able to hide them anywhere else.”

>   Kitana waved, and Marla knew that she had to go back. But her mother sent her one last thought that warmed Marla’s heart: She was happy that her daughter had met a man who adored her and treated her the way she deserved. “Hold on tight to him, my child!” Kitana called out before the tunnel dissolved.

  In a flash, the pain returned with a vengeance. Marla inhaled deeply before Metistakles tightened his grip on her neck again.

  “You love this human?!” he yelled. “Just like your depraved mother!”

  He knows about Mike! The thought shot through her mind as Metistakles went on: “He will die if you don’t tell me right away where I can find this girl!”

  No, he mustn’t do anything to Mike! Her days were numbered, but Mike had his whole life ahead of him. Marla didn’t want anything to happen to Vanessa, either.

  And the scepter … The high lords must never obtain it! If Xandros or the others, with or without Silvan’s help, were to use the scepter to enslave mankind, what would become of Mike?

  For the first time in many days, Marla cried; she felt completely helpless.

  Mike or Vanessa … the choice was impossible. If she delivered Vanessa to the demons, it would increase their chances of obtaining the scepter. She had to decide; Metistakles was forcing her to with all of his mental powers.

  “I want your promise,” she whispered, half-suffocated. “Promise me that Mike will come to no harm, and I’ll tell you where you can find Vanessa …”

  So, he had once lived here … Silvan was standing in his attic room, having just stepped through a portal. No light was on in the room, and it was almost dark outside.

  What was he doing here?

  He looked through the window and saw the house next door. Vanessa … there was no light on in her room, either. That was where the girl he had once loved lived.

  She was safe …

  Sighing, Silvan looked around his former home. He missed it — missed his computer games, his seat by the window. He missed the bed and the pillow he had had since he was five years old, and he missed his mom.

  Silvan went over to his desk and pulled out the top drawer. There was a photo of Vanessa inside. She was lying by the lake in her bikini. She was so lovely.

  Silvan realized that his hand was fingering something in the pocket of his jeans. He hitched up his robe, pulled his hand out of his pocket, and found a silver ring.

  A stabbing pain flashed through his head as the memories washed over him — Vanessa tearing the ring off of her finger and hurling it away. He could be with her right now!

  No, that was impossible, and it was his own fault. Just because he wanted to become Overlord, his entire life was crumbling away. Yet again, he had done everything wrong!

  Bring us the scepter, and it will all be as you wish, voices whispered in his head.

  Yes, he had to listen to the voices.

  Get the scepter, and all your problems will be solved in one fell swoop … The humans hate you. Don’t care so much about them.

  Silvan closed his fist around the ring, then shoved it back into the pocket of his jeans. Soon, none of what he found to be so important now would have any meaning.

  Well done, Silvan …

  James Carpenter was the only thing on his mind as he made his way down the stairs.

  Mike put an arm around Vanessa’s shoulders as they left the dance studio by the back door, which led out onto the parking lot. The year-end ball had been nice, but Vanessa had often been out of sync with the music.

  “What was up with you tonight?” he asked carefully as he led her to his car, the last one remaining in the dimly lit lot. Most of the spectators had left already, and Vanessa’s parents had gone straight to the bowling alley, so Mike had offered to take Vanessa home. “Is Daniel doing any better? I heard he hasn’t been in school.”

  Vanessa nodded, trying to keep a vigilant eye on their surroundings.

  “He definitely would have come if he could have,” Mike said in an attempt to cheer her up.

  “That’s not it,” Vanessa said quietly, clinging so tightly to him that Mike had to lean away in order not to stumble. Vanessa was trembling.

  “Are you cold?” Mike was still overheated from dancing, but the night was slowly cooling off. Vanessa was wearing a sleeveless, low-cut dress. She looked like a princess.

  Vanessa shook her head.

  “What is it, then?” Mike let go of her arm, since they had arrived at his Pontiac. He fumbled in his pocket for the key, asking himself whether Vanessa’s strange behavior had rubbed off on him. He suddenly felt like someone was watching them, and he threw a glance over his shoulder. The only light came from a fluorescent bulb over the trash bins behind the studio. The light flickered, and a cool breeze blew a page from a newspaper across the asphalt.

  “Can’t you go any faster?” Vanessa pushed her handbag against her chest and pulled out a stone that looked like an amethyst. She shut her fist around it and looked over at Mike with fearful eyes.

  “What do you have there?” he asked.

  “Just a good luck charm.”

  “What for?” He had found his key and clumsily stuck it into the lock. If only he could see a little better. “If you don’t tell me what’s going on right now, I’ll …”

  Vanessa’s scream startled Mike so much that he almost broke the key off in the lock. He spun around — and then froze. A tall man was holding Vanessa from behind, one hand over her mouth. The other hand was wrapped around her chest. Her handbag lay at her feet next to the crystal, which had shattered into a million pieces.

  Mike blinked; his heart raced. No, this was impossible! He knew this creature from his textbooks: the grey robes, the shaved head …

  Vanessa’s eyes were as wide as saucers. They screamed for help, but Mike didn’t know what he could do against a demon. He had never attended a Guild school; he had only flipped through a couple of books. Both his parents were watchers, but he hadn’t inherited even the most basic powers from them. Such things happened — but it wasn’t fair.

  Mike swallowed. Could he be dreaming?

  “Let her go!” he cried out, in the hope that the demon would react. Mike held up his hand. “I’m a watcher! If you don’t release her at once, I’ll kill you!”

  The demon curled his lips into a sneer. Vanessa hung limply in his grip, paralyzed by fear. Suddenly, Mike felt an agonizing stab in his head. He pressed his hand to his temples and sank to his knees.

  The demon laughed. “You want to be a watcher?” The underworlder’s eyes blazed, and a dark-red fireball materialized in his hand.

  “Stop!” Mike heard a woman cry out, her voice oddly familiar. She came toward them from the direction of the trash bins. Was that Marla? “You gave me your word!”

  Mike turned his head; the stabbing pain had abruptly vanished. But he felt another pang in his heart. It really was Marla! But dear God, what had happened to her? Her sweater was torn to shreds and stained with blood! Had the demon done this to her?

  Mike’s fear gave way to unbridled rage. He stood up and grabbed the first object he could find in his duffel bag: a can of hair gel. Mike had always been a good pitcher. Vanessa only came up to the underworlder’s chest … Mike raised his arm just as Marla yelled, “Don’t!” But the can was already racing toward the demon’s skull. Mike was amazed to see how quickly the creature reacted. Bright beams shot out of its eyes, hitting the projectile and sending it spinning back toward Mike. It hit him full force on the head.

  “Mike!” Marla screamed, running toward him as he slumped against his car, reeling. He saw spots before his eyes, but he wouldn’t allow himself to pass out. He had to inform the Guild at once! But what could they do for Vanessa? Why had the demon chosen her as his victim?

  Mike’s head was spinning, and there was a painful throbbing where the can had hit him. He felt something warm trickling down his face.

  Marla was next to him now, dabbing at his face with a scrap of fabric from her sweater. “You’re bleeding!” />
  She carefully dabbed the blood away from the wound. “Why did you do that? He could have killed you!” She glanced hastily over her shoulder. Mike could only look on as the demon dragged Vanessa over to the wall of the dance studio and a glowing blue circle appeared. A demon portal! The underworlder must be powerful indeed, to be able to create the portal only with the power of his mind. The creature pulled Vanessa through the ring — and disappeared.

  Disappeared … Mike hoped he was trapped in some kind of nightmare, but the pain in his head was all too real. His heart was pounding like a jackhammer, and his entire body was shaking.

  Only now did Mike take a closer look at Marla. Tears were streaming down her face. “I’m so sorry,” she stammered. “He was going to kill you if I didn’t deliver Vanessa to them.”

  “What?” Mike didn’t understand a word she was saying. Overjoyed to see Marla safe, he pulled her onto his lap. He had been so unhappy when he came home after work and found the key that he had given her on his nightstand.

  Marla placed a hand on his forehead and shut her eyes. “I don’t know whether this will work,” she said. Mike felt her hand grow warmer. His wound tingled and itched, and then stopped throbbing entirely.

  “What are you doing?” Mike’s headache had vanished. What was happening here?

  Marla took her hand away and smiled. “I did it! The wound is closed!”

  “Are you a … watcher?” Some watchers had the gift of healing.

  Marla lowered her eyes. “I’m a demon, but …” She abruptly raised her head and looked at Mike wide-eyed. “… my mother was a watcher, or her ancestors were.”

  “This is all too confusing for me,” Mike murmured, the dull throb in his head returning. It was too much to take in all at once. Marla was a demon, but was also descended from watchers? Was she good or evil? Mike had so many questions. “Is that why you were at the party? To get to me somehow? What’s going on here?”

  His heart was racing. The girl he desired so much came from the underworld? Had she been manipulating him? Toying with him? Abusing him? Oh, God, he had basically slept with her!