Ruptured: The Cantati Chronicles
Page 9
“This Moldevian Orb was spelled by the Coven. With it, you will transport to the time before the Mutari. When you arrive, you have three months to discover how to keep the dimensions intact and block Drystan’s armies from invading Earth. The Densare Council believes it’s possible. They asked me to send one of mine. I want you to do this. Between your skills in the field, your knowledge of spells, and the information gathered in this text, I know you can do this. I order you to accept this mission.” He pushed the manuscript across his desk and extended his hand. The orb pulsed; shades of jade fire swirled within the globe.
Dad expected me to take them from his hands and follow his orders, as usual. I didn’t want to touch either. Just looking at the damn green ball sent an artic wind swirling around my bones.
“When the hell do you want me to do this? We’re under heavy attack, sir. You need me here. Bloody hell, you don’t even know if it will work. It’s a dead end,” I sputtered. No way. I was not leaving. A cold sweat beaded my brow.
He sighed, placing the manuscript and orb on his desk, lowering his head and rubbing his palms across his face. With a swipe of his hands, he erased the pained expression stamped upon his face. “No one knows this, Alana. I received dispatches from the Densare Council a short time ago. Demons are attacking every compound, worldwide. We lost contact with the Council shortly after their message and I have had no luck reaching any compound. You are the counter-offensive and the only one I trust to accomplish this operation. Lieutenant, my final orders are take the orb and manuscript and go. If you do this, humanity stands a chance.”
Oh gods, this was it. The one we had feared.
“How do I get back?” My voice cracked, filled with unshed tears.
“You won’t.” Artillery fire erupted outside the command center doors. Walls trembled as demons battered the steel.
“But … sir?” My breath strangled in my throat, fists clenched against my thighs, my nails dug gouges into my flesh … anything I could do to stifle the tears. Weakness was not acceptable in a squad leader. Deep down, I knew this was the last time I would see his face.
“Lieutenant, the troops need me. Take the orb and book. Recite the incantation.” He commanded, with no hint of argument or discussion available. These were orders I must follow unquestioningly. Some, I ignored when I knew there was a better way. Yet this was not the time for disobeying a command by my superior.
My legs shook as I stood. Taking a deep, shuddering breath I raised my right hand and saluted.
“Yes sir, General.” The words fell from my lips, an automated response indoctrinated in my being.
He gave me a cursory look drenched with emotion. It was more than any words of goodbye could equal. He returned my salute. “Good luck, Lieutenant.”
Unable to hold myself together, tears rained unchecked down my cheeks. I did the one thing I could. I picked the manuscript and orb up off his desk. The supple leather coldly filled my left hand. The orb, a nearly weightless glass ball, felt warm in my right palm.
Steel shattered; the echoing screech reverberated in the rooms. Demons crashed through the Center door.
Chaos. My world was on fire and I knew there was nothing I could do to extinguish the flames.
Screams filled the air. The Cantati were dying. My fingers itched toward my gun.
Two enormous, gray-skinned Hatha demons, rammed the office door. Dad pushed back with his shoulder, trying to keep those brutes out of his office. He removed his Glock from its holster.
“GO, ALANA. SAY THE INCANTATION,” Dad yelled. He fired into the nearest brute’s hand as it curled around the door frame.
“No. Not until I know you’re safe.” I choked on the words. I nestled the book in my waist-band and switched the orb into my left hand. Drawing my gun from its holster with my right, I extended my arm, sighted down the barrel, and fired.
I clipped its shoulder.
“No time, Alana. Don’t argue. GO,” he pleaded. My gun clicked empty while the Hatha’s meaty arms beat at the door.
Gasping air into my lungs, I stared into his eyes. The human world was finished and he knew it. Deep down, I felt it. As the Cantati, we were the protectors, fighting to save mankind. Our time was up. Drystan, Lord of Infernus, launched his final assault, and we failed.
Another boom from a grenade rent the air. The blast unsettled Dad’s grip on the door and he faltered. The Hathas burst into the room, the demon infantry soldiers slamming him up against the remnant shards of his office door. Their razor-sharp teeth glistened in the overhead lights, a stark comparison to their dark gray skin. In the time it took me to blink, their teeth ripped into Dad.
“NO!” I screamed, loud enough that the two Hatha lifted their heads off of their current meal. They eyed me like I was a tasty morsel. These assholes were dead.
I charged. The larger one backhanded me and I crashed onto Dad’s desk. My gun and the orb spilled from my fingers. I rolled out of arm’s reach. The Hatha nearest to me crashed his fist onto the desk where my leg had been seconds before. Wood splintered, leaving a gaping hole in the desk. Regaining my footing, I leapt on top of the closest Hatha, removing his teeth from my father. Blood gushed from the deep hole the demon had left in Dad’s shoulder. I cursed my inattention as the Hatha’s arms surrounded me, cutting off my oxygen. I shoved against its mammoth jaw. This was bad. I had to help him. Dad’s agonized moans filled my ears.
I swiveled my head just in time to witness the second Hatha as it ripped his body in two. “DAD!” I screamed, but no sound left my lips from my severe lack of oxygen.
Rage settled in my soul. In a single thrust, I snapped the Hatha’s neck and its arms released me. I ducked low, and the second Hatha’s claw grazed my arm. The screams outside Dad’s office dulled as I beat the bloody hell out of it. Picking up the desk chair, I smashed it against the Hatha’s skull in a single blow. Blood splattered everywhere.
I was seconds from joining the melee in the command center except I glanced in Dad’s lifeless eyes.
NO.
This was not how it would end. I had to fix this. I scooped up the forgotten orb from the floor, made sure the book was still tucked in my waistband, and held the incantation. Blinking through tears, I gazed at the words scrawled upon the slip of paper.
Before another demon noticed me, I spoke, “Vicis ut est non vicis, tractus ut est non tractus, in a dies ut est non a dies. Sto procul limen inter universitas, pro ut velo ex mysterium. Possum Antiquitas Uni succurro quod servo mihi. Vicis per tractus, deleo preteritus. Ut EGO mos is, sic mote is exsisto.”
The orb warmed my palm. Heat sang up my arm, encompassing my body. I couldn’t move as the warmth spread.
The orb blazed fiery in my hand, so hot I wanted to drop it. Gritting my teeth through the scorching pain, my fingers dematerialized along with it. As the heat spread up my arm, I realized I couldn’t move my head to check if I was missing more body parts.
And the scene before me dissolved. I’m not sure I existed anymore. It was as if I was now a void, a black nothingness. Time suspended itself. Is this what death felt like, this ceasing of all physical senses? Would it be so bad to let go into oblivion? Then my vision faltered. My eyes were open yet could see nothing.
I blinked.
My body materialized, crashing against unforgiving stone. My head thwacked against the ground as my body skidded to a halt.
Umphff, that’d leave a mark.
Blood dribbled from my chin. Each droplet connected with concrete, creating a dark puddle on the floor. I eased my shoulders and cheek off the timeworn stone. My muscles groaned, protesting the slight movement. My limbs throbbed from the jarring impact.
Through narrowed eyes, my surroundings swam into focus. I lay face-first in a gutter running along the wall. My day had turned to shit. I laughed. The sound rang sharp in the empty space.
Fuck, Dad.
Tears blurred my vision and I lay my forehead against the stone. Each breath hurt, shuddered in painful gulps into my lungs. He was
dead. They all were. Raw agony gripped my heart, clenched its gnarled fist and squeezed my soul. How could they all be gone? I couldn’t stifle the tears. There were not enough fingers to stop the dam.
Realization dawned as I wiped the wet trail from my cheeks. The world had ended. How the hell was I supposed to fix that?
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About the Author
Bestselling Author Maggie Mae Gallagher doesn’t remember a time when she wasn’t writing. When she was a kid she acted out her favorite scenes, only better, with her brother and cousin. As a teenager, she wrote reams of poetry, but realized her true love lay with creating characters and stories. A former music and history major, Maggie is a total geek at her core. When she is not writing, she adores attending the latest comic con or spending time with her family. She lives in St. Louis, Missouri, with her two furry felines.
Copyright © 2014 by Maggie Mae Gallagher
Edited by Megan Records
Copyedits by Joyce Lamb
Cover Art & Formatting by Damonza
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.
ISBN-13: 978-0-9914817-2-9
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
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