The Dark Levy: Stories of the Nine Worlds (Ten Tears Chronicles - a dark fantasy action adventure Book 1)

by Alaric Longward

  I woke up, my breath rasping with fear and found Cherry eyeing me with her curious eyes, her thin face drawn nervously in a smile. ‘Was I making noise?’ I asked her softly. She shook her head, but her eyes looked beyond me. I turned to see Ulrich staring at us from across the room. We looked at each other for a while until he turned away and went back asleep. I noticed I had been holding my breath and fell on my back, trying to steady my nerves. Cherry was still up and I tapped her hand, missing Grandma, Rose, Mother, and Father. I was feeling miserable. Finally, Cherry’s hand fell away, her breathing slowed, and eventually I dozed off again, drowsily eyeing the statues around the room. I kept wondering at their pained faces, surprised looks, their young age and wondered how many were still being sought back home.

  Some, perhaps. Many, if they took some every two years. Perhaps there were other rooms like this. Gods knew how old they were, those unlucky failures, and my belly cramped with fear, for I was sure to be one. The others hated me. Well, no, Ulrich did, the others mocked me, and some I think liked me, and in my misery, I found I had more friends than I had ever had. Cherry, indeed. Lex, perhaps the two criminal Russians. Albine, sort of.

  And Dana. I still had her.

  But it would be hard. Had I not failed in most nearly everything I had ever tried to achieve? I snickered. No, I had never sought to achieve anything, not really. And now, the one thing I might excel in, one of the few humans who could do so, the very thing I had so longed for without knowing? Casting a spell and touching the fire to make a spell of … Fury? Yes, Fury. Well, I was hopeless in that as well. I was one in millions and still a sad failure. I gazed at the silver Bone Fetter on my arm.

  I let my hand fall slowly.

  Dana. Was she always like this? Able to do anything to get hers? Murder? Lie?

  Perhaps. I had always been too busy with my own issues to notice.

  God, I thought and rubbed my hands across my face, we were in a fix. Gods, I corrected myself and giggled. The creatures imprisoning us were as remorseless as they were dangerous. They were practiced ladies of the Shades, skilled in arms and brutally adept in the art of terror. They could shut us off the power with an eye blink and likely they knew if we attempted something, watching us like hawks. They were gorgeous in body, inhuman in mind and face, and we were like babes in the care of beasts.

  Who was their mistress? A master? No, a mistress, I thought. Surely not Cosia? Certainly not Bilac. They could herd prisoners around, all right, were deadly and dangerous, brutal trainers and merciless guards, yes, but someone had to run the Shrouded Serpent Trade House. And the Dark Levy. Someone had to be the keen brains behind the criminal outfit. Surely this imprisonment was a crime in Aldheim, in any civilized world?

  Perhaps not.

  I stared at the ceiling, at the shadows for the longest of time, mulling it over. Then, for some reason, I began to feel uneasiness. A shudder went through me, a forewarning of a danger. Just like staring at a light in a nightly sky and imagining it moving; I thought I saw omens of warning in the shape of fleeting, imaginative shadows. I wanted to get up, but despite the feeling of something dangerous taking shape, something I should avoid, I knew there was nothing I could do. I trembled in agitated fear, unable to turn away or even sit up. I gazed at one shadow in particular, one that was hanging near the roof. It was dark, so dark.

  I held my breath. I was sure I saw it move.

  And I was right, for it was then the shadow on the ceiling turned, slowly, spiraling in the air, one strand turning into a hand grasping at the stone above it. It was a tall and lithe shadow, a womanly shadow that wore a glimmering, silvery tunica, tall boots and a long, voluminous skirt. I saw, in the slight light of our glowing Bone Fetters golden bracelets flashing as it moved and then the face turned my way. It was cowled, but still, under the shadows, terrible eyes shone, bright and white, cold as winter. Those eyes. A shark has cruel ones. I had ever feared sharks despite what people said about the chances of being eaten by one. The truth is, you don’t wish to meet such a predator while any part of you is underwater. And so, in that dark, I felt I was a wounded, bleeding bait, being circled by one. These eyes were intelligent, even if they were predator’s eyes, accustomed to witnessing death and despair, and I tore my gaze away from them, wondering if I was about to die. My heart hammered in panic as the thing spiraled down to sit on top of a dead student’s statue next to me. I stared doggedly to the side, cursing myself for my cowardice as I felt those merciless orbs scourge me. I twitched in terror as a multitude of long, incredibly long, writhing dark snakes descended on the floor, their tongues caressing my legs. They tightened around my calves and slithered under my robes, cold as ice, moving and thrumming across my belly and breasts until they seized my arm and exposed the silver shackle.

  Then, nothing. For a long time, not a sound. I found breathing hard but managed to keep from whimpering.

  Finally, I heard a hissing sound, and the snakes disappeared. I decided she was still up there, staring at the arm I dared not cover. I gathered my strength, feeling the need to prove my worth even by a small measure of bravery, and I glanced up. I saw the lower half of the cowled face, a beautiful chin, smooth, red lips and fanged mouth smiling risibly. Her bright eyes were painful to look at despite the shadows hiding them, and I had to turn my face away.

  I felt powers gathering around me, fell asleep and did not dream.

  I had wondered about the mistress, and I had found her. Or rather, she had found me.

  CHAPTER 8

  I awoke and remembered what had taken place. I stared at the ceilings of the macabre room, wondering if my dream had been real. Some dust had moved on the statue the thing had been perched on. That part had been real, unfortunately. She had been holding my arm, wondering at it. Likely she thought I was useless.

  There was no place for the useless and the weak in the Fanged Spire.

  The door banged open. Everyone shot up to a seated position, save for the Russian siblings. Bilac and Cosia entered.

  ‘Breakfast?’ Dmitri yawned and noticed Bilac’s impatient grimace. ‘Yes, mistress,’ he said, kicked Alexei up, climbed to his wobbly feet and bowed with a flourish. We followed Bilac’s whip, and it was pointing at the door. No breakfast.

  We were herded downstairs where more of the snake-haired females lounged in the foyer, some dozen, all hauntingly beautiful save for Bilac, sporting myriad colored snakes. They all stared at us curiously, speaking to each other. They were agitated and quarrelsome, whispering softly but still it was clear they disagreed on something. One pointed at the door. It was open and a huge red moon hung in the sky as Mar was making its way up to chase it away with golden brilliance. We had no shoes and so the cold tiles and frigid stone sent burrowing stabs of icy pain into our bones, but Bilac’s whip kept us moving. We were pointed down the stairs, through a different set of doors, next to the one we climbed up the day before. It looked dangerous, and we hesitated, but not for long as our guards kicked and cursed us to the delight of the other ferocious females looking on. We took many flights of nearly lightless stairs to a simple wooden door.

  Bilac grunted. ‘The feast.’ The door shuddered and opened on its own accord, and Anja screamed involuntarily as the gate spoke with a deranged, high voice bordering on panic. We all saw a pale mouth moving inside the plank. ‘Welcome, kings and queens of debauchery, to the feast,’ it declared until Cosia slapped it and it shut up with a shriek.

  We entered, Ulrich kicking it angrily. He had something against doors, apparently. We stopped to stare at the sight.

  ‘Eat,’ Bilac hissed, ignoring our timidity and pointing at the corner of the room. We stood on a crude platform, obviously makeshift and wooden though there were some parts of the old stone floor mixed in curiously. The area was spreading far to the left and right, and a wide and formerly grand stairway led down from it towards the dark. We followed her instructions to slouch on a slab of stone. Bread, some porridge, and water were served from simple dark bottles. T
he food was hard and cold.

  ‘There’s no tea, I take it. At least the water tastes familiar,’ Anja grunted as she sampled it.

  Cosia shrugged. ‘This is your first year. You have to deserve the better fares.’

  ‘Told you so,’ Ulrich grunted gently as he sat down next to Anja.

  ‘How long are the days and years in this place? Our years …’ Lex asked bravely while sampling the stale porridge. ‘Mistress,’ he added slowly.

  ‘You were told to obey and to be quiet,’ Bilac grunted. ‘How many times …’

  ‘Oh, let us humor ourselves,’ Cosia said, sitting on a slab of stone, leaning back. Lex’s eyes stared at her full bosom speculatively until Dana slapped him, and I wondered what kind of an arrangement my sister had made with Lex. I felt jealous and cursed myself under my breath. Cosia’s yellow eyes twinkled. ‘Our day is a bit longer than yours, perhaps, and so is the year, but it is not that different. There are worlds it can be vastly different. Not so in Aldheim. Nor in Midgard. Your Tenth World and their days were molded to echo the days of these two. It is a pale shadow of them, of course, but there it is.’

  Dana pointed a spoon at the two dangerous females. ‘What is Midgard, then, mistress?’

  ‘Where your kind were spawned once. It was and is Odin’s own world, though he grew bored with it, soon enough. When he did, they brought humans all over the place from that filth spawned shithole. Now shut up,’ Bilac spat. ‘Spare your strength.’

  ‘Where …’ I began, and their snakes grew alert and ready as they stared down at me. Their yellow eyes reminded me of those of foxes, preying on chickens.

  Cosia shook her head empathetically and Bilac snorted. ‘Ask. One question.’

  ‘Where are the gods, then? Right now, where are they? And what happened to shut the maa’dark of our world out of …’ I waved my hand around, indicating the power.

  ‘Shades?’ Cosia asked, and I nodded.

  Bilac’s orange snakes squirmed as she ran her hand over her tight belly. She made a throat cutting motion with one dexterous finger. ‘One question. Only one, I said. But I forgive you, for you are fair.’ She smiled strangely at me, and I shuddered at her words. She continued. ‘There was a war, of course. All the doors are shattered, closed, locked and lost. The one to your Tenth disappeared with the Timmerion family as you were already told.’

  ‘Ages ago?’ Albine asked.

  Cosia shook her head. ‘No. This one took place recently, some ten thousand of your years past. Asgaard was sundered from Aldheim, Aldheim from Midgard, Nifleheim, Jotunheim, Vanaheim. Muspleheim and Svartalfheim’s gates are also closed. We are lucky we can still feel and hear the flames of Muspelheim and the ice of Nifleheim mixing in the Void. Only your Tenth is slightly accessible, at a given date of the certain year, for the gods did not build it. As you know.’ Her yellow eyes flashed in anger. ‘But Cerunnos Timmerion held the secret to that gate and how he gave men the ability to see the Shades, and he is … gone as well.’

  ‘What kind of gods are they?’ Lex sniffed. ‘First, they created the worlds? Yes? They created worlds. Then they lost them. How the hell do you lose worlds? Huh? Mistress?’

  Cosia laughed and silenced Lex with a wave of her hand. ‘Imagine you, children, a map. A hugely intricate map full of the finest of details, one you could examine all your life. Then, imagine many such maps, one within the other, on top of each other. You can go to one by foot, another by spell and nothing stays in one place forever. The gods explored the very best of the worlds they could find. There were so many, in so many places, so made by the Filling of the Void. There, they crafted and perfected the worlds to their liking, laying claim to Nine of the first and finest ones. And because nothing is constant, they built ways to them, combining all their skills and knowledge to make mighty gateways for all living and dead beings to walk across them.’

  ‘Doesn’t still explain why they lost them,’ Alexei noted.

  Cosia’s eyes glittered as she answered. ‘They grew complacent, lazy and forgot the maps and their plans and were happy to assume nothing would ever change and challenge them. But things change, and the mortals know it is so. Imagine, little ones, a treachery. One day, the gods find themselves shut in, the horn that opens and closes the gates stolen. They know their precious worlds are there, somewhere out there, but not where they first found them, and their maps are useless. All they can do is stare at the gates and curse the thieves. And, if they are wise, blame themselves for their carelessness. I doubt they do, but perhaps some might.’

  Bilac grimaced. ‘And the natural question now would be …’

  ‘Who stole the key?’ I dared to ask. ‘And what is it? This horn?’

  ‘Enough,’ Bilac said darkly. ‘You are children and should learn quietly and patiently. Stop asking too many questions that only raise …’

  ‘What is the key?’ Lex interrupted her. ‘Come on now.’

  ‘Last warning,’ Bilac told him with a leer. ‘You are a fair one as well, are you not?’ she asked, gazing at Lex strangely. ‘Would hate to mar you. Like I did the girl.’

  I was startled and ashamed, for I had forgotten to check on Albine’s face. She noticed my look, shook her head, and shrugged. It hurt. The face was infected and puffed, and she was not able to eat. Neither was Able.

  ‘Yes, your slitherness,’ Lex murmured, and Bilac’s eyes flashed. Lex visibly struggled with himself and lost. ‘Is it possible to make a formal complaint to the Regent about our treatment, mistress?’ He grinned to show he was only half serious, but I prepared to have two patients.

  Cosia grinned in return. ‘By the Darkness. You are asking for welts. The Regent rules Aldheim. In name only and not this island. We don’t consult him on anything.’

  My sister swept her hair behind her back and jumped in. ‘Mistress? What is the Regent? A slithering beast of some sort, a bulbous, fat greased lizard or something we might know by looks to be such a high, noble thing as to rule a vast land?’

  Cosia shrugged, her snakes weaving around her head dangerously. ‘There are men and beasts aplenty in Aldheim and both are crude and uninteresting to the higher people, like us, the Dark Clans. Make no such comments to your betters, girl. Slithering beast indeed. As for Aldheim? Elves rule the land. They ruled the Tenth for a time. They are shifty and treacherous, power-hungry and crueler than a bone breaking shark.’

  ‘Elves?’ Ulrich asked in stupefaction. ‘The pointy eared things? Short and slim? There are stories of them in Europe.’

  ‘Pointy eared?’ Dmitri added. ‘Nude and tiny!’

  ‘No way!’ Alexei chortled.

  ‘Elves. The outwardly noble and beautiful lords of the land, yet indeed cruel things,’ Bilac corrected. ‘And they are just as tall as you are. And not nude! You do not believe in elves? Not even after witnessing our glory?’

  Alexei spat and turned to Dmitri with a grin. ‘They are calling elves cruel,’ he whispered unwisely. ‘Only a heartless monster would make us eat that slop served last night.’

  Cosia pointed at him, and Bilac nodded heartily. ‘You just lost the chair game. You know this game, do you not? It is an elven invention, though there is no music here unless screams and the slap of whips on shuddering skin and flesh,’ Bilac hissed. ‘One question; these were the instructions I gave you, and there has been far too many already. And you forgot the law of obedience and the proper way to address us. But you are understandably excited, and so you shall live.’ She gestured and the air twisted and grasped Alexei, ripping him off the ground, his last bite of bread flying in the air. He screamed as the wind tore at him, spread-eagling him, and he flew to Bilac. It was the same spell used the day before, one of the ice and winds, and I felt it, knowing it well. ‘Kiss, small brother,’ the fiend said and pressed her lips on Alexei’s, and the snakes bit him all across his face. He screamed in pain, and as Anja and Dmitri sprung up, Bilac’s animal-like eyes followed them. The Russians did not move as Alexei writhed in her embrace, whimpering, th
en he slumped.

  ‘He going to live?’ Anja asked bitterly, her hands clutching her rope.

  Bilac snapped her fingers, and the boy fell to the floor, shuddering, bleeding and dazed. He threw up, his face puffy and raw, marked by dots of blood.

  ‘Is it poisonous?’ I asked nervously. ‘The bite?’

  Bilac grunted. ‘Yes. But you should be happy mine are sweet and orange and yellow. Not like Cosia’s here,’ she said, casting a baleful look at Cosia and her dark snakes. ‘He will recover. He is paralyzed, the fool and cannot scream, but the pain he suffers makes him scream inside his head.’

  ‘How will he train …’ Anja began, gazing at his brother in distress. I noticed Dmitri pick up Alexei’s bit of bread and push it slowly into his own mouth. He saw me scowling at him, and he shrugged, swallowing the hard thing.

  Bilac kicked Alexei so hard, her chainmail jingled. ‘He won’t today. Let him suffer there.’

  ‘Today, the rest of you shall train,’ Cosia said. ‘As we will train each and every day.’

  ‘One day, we shall no longer train,’ Anja said coldly. ‘We shall be free. Just pray we won’t meet you out there. Mistresses.’

  They giggled at her fury. ‘Truly?’ Cosia asked. She thumbed a ring on her finger. ‘And if we do meet, you had better learn some powerful spells, girl, for such a battle is a terrible one, no game for children,’ Cosia breathed, with pity. ‘And we shall eat well if you do.’

  ‘Did you eat Ron? Make a feast of him?’ Ulrich asked darkly, casting a furious gaze at me and Dana. Albine looked down as well, sorrowful and pained, and I nodded at Able to go to her. He did not, his face nonchalant.

  ‘Enter the feast,’ said the door happily, apparently only concerned about ancient celebrations.