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

by Alaric Longward

  ‘Yes, Euryale, mistress,’ I wept, and she nodded happily, petting my face.

  ‘Now, now. Soon, I shall have a need of you. We shall take a small trip in some months.’ Then, she took me away.

  I wept in the dark, staring at the skin that showed none of the sibilant figures, hiding in the dark, not one. Yes, I knew they were there, patiently waiting, hoping I would make a mistake, hating their hunger, awakening slowly to a feast. I grasped at my hair, feeling utterly exhausted, and Able sat near me, and I was startled. ‘They let you go early?’ I asked. ‘Sorry, I’m …’

  ‘Sad,’ he said. ‘I know you are. I see it.’

  I held his cold hand and rubbed it. ‘They make demands on us, on me, and have expectations, and their threats are so very hard to bear,’ I grimaced. ‘Gods, but to face the disapproving relatives and mocking villagers again, instead of her.’

  ‘She is the darkness,’ Able agreed and then the door opened and the others entered. They saw me there, speaking with Able and glanced at me curiously. Then I gathered myself and smiled at Dana.

  ‘Are you OK?’ she asked, also tired to the bone. ‘You should have seen the firewall I summoned today. Even Bilac was impressed, though she will never admit it.’

  ‘I’m happy for you, sister.’

  ‘I think I will be one to turn some heads in Aldheim, sister. With your skills and mine, we will find a way to thrive,’ she whispered and I nodded, feeling none of the hope she did. She hugged me gently. ‘Remember, obey her for us. The rest do not matter.’

  ‘No, they do not,’ I agreed, not feeling entirely honest. Able and Cherry mattered, Albine as well. I glanced at the Russians, now taking tired dance steps and calling each other morons, and giggled softly. Dana stiffened at that but said nothing. Lex was arguing with Ulrich, and I worried about him, but they separated, angry and spiteful, and I felt lost, for I did not hate them either.

  Euryale had told me they would make demands on me. I should fear them. But I didn’t. Perhaps I should. I wanted to fear them, for then I would only have to keep doing what I was doing. Obeying Euryale. And Dana.

  I went to bath that night, last of the lot, waiting until Anja was done, and sat there silently, rubbing my shoulder. I did so until Lex came and grasped me out of the water. I had fallen asleep, and he lay me next to Cherry, and he stayed there next to me. I was too tired to argue, and I let him.

  Could I let them die if that were the price of our freedom?

  Perhaps.

  Not?

  At the end of the year, we would be tested. Yet, my test would begin before that.

  CHAPTER 12

  We faced some more brutal months. The days were so tiring, so anxious, and we were pushed so far we had no energy to do anything else than eat. Alexei’s and Dmitri’s makeshift rag ball gathered dust in the corner; we slept the sleep of the dead in heaps, little heeding our welts and hunger. Even Albine curled next to me one night. We learned the power, gradually developing ourselves to hold more and more, and I suffered Euryale’s teachings, even if her silence was gratifying. She was pensive at times, then full of energy on other days, then suddenly brooding and finally happy, her moods alternating madly. I thought she grew more and more impatient in her teaching, for there were nights I thought something was broken inside me, despite my healing ability.

  Yet, little by little, we could hold power for a longer time, soon, much more of it and a little more effortlessly.

  Then, one afternoon, I was not broken by Euryale’s teachings, but instead she crouched next to me. She stroked my cheek. ‘You can hold twice as much as you used to. More than the others. Thank me later.’

  ‘Yes, mistress,’ I said with a pained hiss.

  ‘Now, heal up, pigeon, for we shall travel the land. There will be an opportunity we must take, people we must satisfy, and your freedom looms that much closer. You will be tested now, lovely one, and the Tears shall be tested a few days from now, as the year ends. Be strong. But first, as I said, I have a need of you.’

  ‘Yes, mistress,’ I agreed and she moved with purpose for the end of the room.

  There, she was rummaging in a trunk, old with rusted hinges, but what she pulled out of there was not rusty at all. She took out practicable breeches, made of soft, brown leather. A tunic, she produced a tunic out of the trunk. It was a blue and velvety thing of wonder, for it had pearls sewn to its hem and sleeves. As she piled it on my lap, I could nearly weep for the beautiful garments, how soft they felt. She grinned at me. Finally, she pulled out a cloak, simple, dark, and high boots of dark leather. And a belt. It was silvery and golden, the buckle a thing of beauty.

  ‘Sit, sister,’ she told me, and I was seating myself on my usual seat, but she huffed and pointed at a place by a mirror. It was tall as a man, oval and dark, framed by dangerous metal carved crows, but as she snapped her fingers, the mirror cleared and the crows shifted to a different position.

  I stared at myself.

  My hair was wild and long, much longer than it had ever been. My cheeks were slimmer, and there were wrinkles and dark smudges under and around my eyes.

  But the eyes themselves were the most different.

  On Earth, I had been a wreck. So had most of the others, one way or another. Now, the eyes staring back at me were resolute, steady and a bit resentful, but mostly piercing. Euryale slipped behind me and I tensed, but she laid a hand on my shoulder. ‘You have all changed. You have a purpose in life, be it the growth of your powers or freedom, you all possess confidence and purpose like never before.’

  ‘I suppose that is true,’ I said and thought I looked beautiful, despite the wrinkles. Euryale wetted my hair with oily substance as I stared on incredulously. She was humming, her eyes hidden under her cloak, and her four deft hands stroked my hair with the perfumed fluid. Finally, she combed it. ‘Did your sisters do this to you when you were young?’ I asked, and she stiffened. I noticed the snakes slithering under her cloak and behind her back. Then I laughed, despite trying not to. ‘Sorry,’ I said as I shook my head.

  ‘Sit still, you silly thing,’ she grinned. ‘Our heritage denies us the combs though occasionally the snakes do not get along with each other and that can be bothersome. One has to get help during such crises. Once, one of mine got tangled to that of Stheno, and Medusa especially had a terrible time with some of hers.’

  ‘They said she was cursed by the gods. That she had once been a human and …’

  She looked insulted for a moment and then continued, ‘No, she was our sister. Forget the myths and listen. We had happy times, eons of them when the worlds were young. Stheno and I would run in the snow, for days, hunting for other First Born, and she enjoyed solitude and contemplation, Medusa,’ she said fondly. ‘I miss Stheno. Medusa as well. Stheno has the most curious face, innocent and gentle, her eyes strangely subtle, not like mine. She is smaller than I am, but gods know, she could rip through an elven army company with ease.’

  ‘Our amusements were of simpler nature,’ I said. ‘Mainly just enjoying books for me. Dana had her friends. We all worked hard.’

  She smoothed my hair with all her hands. ‘We are going to a feast, Shannon. This feast will take place in the settlement of the Six Hills, the city of Trad, capital of the House Vautan. They reside in the northern half of the Spell Coast, just west of here, Shannon. To their north lies Freyr’s Tooth, the smaller continent of the highest and noblest of elves. While the south is strict and perhaps cruel to non-elves, like you humans, enslaving millions of them, the north tolerates them even less. In fact, House Bardagoon and the Freyr’s Hall and the city, Ljusalfheim are barred to humans. Himingborg, the southern tip of Freyr’s Tooth is where House Safiroon allows humans to serve and live, but nowhere else in the northern, holy continent. House Vautan is a sort of a mixing pot of these two extremes. They are nominally allied to House Bardagoon and Safiroon of the north, forever quarreling with House Coinar to their south, the traders and religious fanatics and with House Daxamma, the v
ast, barbaric house of wilder manners and Guardians of the Southern Passes. In there we shall go. To Trad. And a feast.’

  ‘I shall see elves?’ I asked breathlessly as she twirled my hair. ‘And a city?’

  ‘You shall, you reclusive, introverted human,’ she giggled with her strange, singing voice. ‘So much have you changed.’

  ‘The Fanged Spire would turn a hermit into a stage comedian easily enough,’ I agreed with her, then sobered. ‘I take it there is a reason I am going?’

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘They are meeting in Trad. You see, very soon, the great Houses will meet. It is called the Feast of Fates, where they will air all the grievances, agree on which Houses should be punished, which elevated, and there will be other events. Marriages are agreed on there, as well. And I shall show you for The Race is still on and the Hand of Life to be found.’

  ‘I shall be presented like a slave, being paraded before buyers? You are showing me so they know I exist?’ I asked unhappily as she was finishing my hair. It was no longer curly, but long and silken, braided in an elaborate twirl around my head.

  ‘You won’t have to show your teeth or privates,’ she grinned. ‘But you shall be shown to the buyer, the one that matters. The only one who can get you to the Freyr’s Seat.’

  ‘This Almheir Bardagoon?’ I asked, nervously.

  ‘Indeed. Dress up.’

  I did, undressing my robe, looking around nervously for Nox.

  ‘He is not around,’ she smiled. ‘But the tomte see much, and while they do occasionally marry outside their elusive race, he has no plans to do so. He is past the age.’

  ‘I see,’ I said forlornly as I pulled on silken underwear with embroidered sides. ‘Why is he serving you?’ I asked, not sure he was, really.

  ‘Why? I told you he belonged to another and now to me. The tomte serve their masters for eternity unless the master gives them over, and this one did. They make a lifetime commitment to their mistress or master, and I find him amusing, so I’ll keep him. He was Stheno’s servant. Now mine,’ she eyed me as I pulled on my boots. The pants were immodestly tight, I thought, but they felt so smooth, I actually sighed.

  ‘I never cared for beautiful clothing,’ I told her. ‘But this, mistress, is like a shower after a month of camping in the woods.’

  ‘You are welcome, Shannon,’ she said. ‘Now, hold.’ She opened the door, and Cosia entered. She smiled at me coldly, her yellow eyes flashing. Then she bowed to her mistress, and I felt Euryale pull at powers of the Shades, combining a complex spell of fiery fires and fumes and Cosia’s face changed, uncannily writhing. The cruelly beautiful face took on an ageless look. Her eyes were clear and bright as emeralds, green as the shallow, sun-bitten sea and her hair grew into a huge, voluminous cascade of twirls, thick and high, glowing in the dark in a blonde brilliance. ‘Good, good. Cosia will get you to the tavern. There, Shannon, you shall sit and enjoy yourself, and you will know when to act.’

  ‘Is that an elf?’ I asked in wonderment.

  ‘Yes, that is an elf. Pretty, no?’ Euryale told me. ‘Now, let us be off.’

  ‘But …’ I began; Cosia shook her head, and Euryale moved like a spirit. She flashed to the mirror and touched it, murmuring a name, releasing spells. The crows on top of it twitched. I felt her force reaching out to the mirror, the mirror reaching out to her, and I saw how it was done, using a powerful, very powerful, overpowering spell of ice. She actually staggered; the mirror went dark as night, and I shirked, for Cosia had pushed me through it.

  It did not break.

  Instead, I swirled in the dark, saw a speck of fiery light and plummeted for it. I fell to my feet and a pack of cats scattered, running willy-nilly around a white tiled back alley.

  I stared at the cats, entirely confused. A large shadow shot by me, and then Cosia grabbed my shoulder, looking around, pulling me into the shadows. She had her hand on a small dagger as she did, wary and nervous, a beautiful, ethereal female rather than the gorgon who had condemned Ron to die. Dana had done the picking, I reminded myself, going for Able first though none had ever blamed her for it. ‘Shh,’ she hissed, trying to get her bearings.

  The smells. They were so many, I felt like a mutt, my nose high in the air. I noticed it was breezy, for some leaves swirled around the corner we stood in, but there were flowers about, perhaps some strange spice, for an enchanting fragrance filled my nostrils. While Euryale had given me meat and bread, there was also a whiff of an excellent stew lingering in the air and so, without asking for permission, I began to walk. ‘Wait!’ Cosia hissed, but I walked the tiled alley to the end and stopped.

  The Six Hills, Trad was beautiful, and it opened up before me.

  Mar had set, and the Two Hounds stalked the sky, giving us light, and I admired the seaport of the House Vautan. Thousands of high buildings dotted several tall hills, entwining them in crowns of pearly white and ruby reds, oranges and greens and lights shone on each building. A ring of white walls encircled the city. Most buildings had terraces on the high roofs, tiny spectacles of people walking across all of them. ‘It’s dinnertime, so they are all at home. Dinner is a holy thing for the people of Trad, who once starved here, in the War of the Lost Sibling. Thousands of years ago,’ Cosia said and continued brusquely, ‘and that is where we go.’ She nodded across the street towards a white and brown wooden building, many stories high, and the yard lit by poles of pink marble with magical lights on top. It was a suspiciously modest building, with stables on the other end, but clean and prosperous people were walking in and out.

  ‘Those are humans,’ I breathed. And they were. I saw two men enter, wearing expensive jackets, yellow and golden, swords on their hips, their hair short and beards trimmed. One would not be able to tell them apart from our people, save for the dress. My eyes wondered at their pants, for they were tight and I blushed as Cosia snickered.

  ‘Yes, fine looking men they are. Perhaps I shall have one if I am given time,’ she grinned, and I was sure the man would not enjoy such a meeting to the end, though perhaps the beginning. She shook her head ruefully. ‘But no. I am not allowed that. Come.’

  We walked to the massive door, crossing a paved road of finely cut stone, pink, and red. ‘What shall we do? In there.’

  She shrugged, tired of my questions. ‘Enjoy, but not too much. You are not to leave the room. And you will eat, drink and dance, and act when you must act. There will be a small commotion, and you will know what to do,’ she told me savagely, and I grew alarmed at her ferocious tone.

  But only for as long as it took to enter the room.

  It was a tavern. Not like I imagined medieval inns to look like, with filthy hay on the floor, dark and smoky, but it was a happy, large room with many balconies reaching up and bathed in gentle lights and fires. Tables were scattered around, thick and well made, carved with intricate figures, dark wood mixed with lighter tones, likely magically crafted, the chairs enormous and cozy, the sort you can sink into and fall asleep as you smell the aromas around you. There were a hundred people feasting, enjoying their life, and an orchestra of flutes and violin-like contraptions were being played by women dressed in frivolous red and yellow gowns. A horn was also playing, but it was playing on its own. I saw an elf, a young male sitting lazily at the corner, concentrating and felt him exerting his will at the instrument, which blew embellished, blaring blasts that somehow mixed well with the band of females. I could only stare at the people, our distant kin and at the elf customers, many of them, somewhat aloof from the humans, pondering deeper questions, yet laughing raucously when they found something humorous, their thick, long hair and ageless faces, their bright and sometimes colorless eyes.

  ‘Wonderful,’ I said, wondering at the lively tune, one that thrummed through the floors. Some women were dancing, their gowns mixing together as they laughed and held each other’s hands, twirling around. A short man was carrying an enormous plate of cold meats and steamed vegetables, many I did not know, and I decided I was ra
venous. ‘Do we have coin?’

  ‘Coin?’ Cosia asked. ‘Yes, of course! Do I look like a beggar?’ she sniffled.

  ‘No, I want …’ I gestured, and she giggled and pulled me along. I stared around in stupefaction and tripped on a sheathed sword.

  ‘Pardon!’ said a young man lounging on a seat as his hand shot out to steady me. He grinned widely, then happily, and I grinned back, for he was the most handsome man I had ever seen, a sturdy man with a short beard, dark and ravishing, his smile full and face broad. ‘Ah, would you, perhaps, care to join me? My friend and I could make up for our frivolous carelessness?’

  His friend, a tall, grim man with a trimmed mustache rolled his eyes. ‘I did nothing. But indeed, welcome.’ He nodded at their table, and I pulled Cosia along. She was hissing a complaint, then adopted a hurt smile, her elven hair bouncing as she tilted her head imperiously at them.

  ‘Excuse me, ma tarish,’ the grim, older man said. ‘I did not notice … excuse us.’ They both got up and bowed to Cosia, whose face took on an arrogant look as if a noble considering dining with crude peasants. Which was likely exactly the scenario, I realized.

  She breathed theatrically. ‘It is fine, noble men of Trad,’ she told them imperiously, her sing-song voice replaced by a haughty one. ‘I’m not ma tarish, but hail from the north. I’ll happily eat with you since you are so kind as to offer to pay for us.’

  ‘I … of course,’ the young man said, apparently distraught as the grim one undoubtedly kicked him under the table. ‘The pleasure is ours.’

  Cosia leaned on me. ‘Ma tarish are the nobles of the south. They do not tolerate humans to share meals with the elves. In the north, this is not a problem, for …’

  ‘Few humans are allowed in the north, I know,’ I said. ‘And there are non-noble elves? Right?’