Eden's Creatures

by Valerie Zambito

  A snarling pair of fighters crashed into him, almost taking him to the ground. Cal whipped his bow around and shot the Fallen through the eye.

  The Faedin — who Cal was shocked to see was Eduard the clothier — mumbled his thanks and ran off to find another battle.

  Cal pressed on, never feeling so helpless in his life. What could he do? One body floundering adrift in the midst of a warrior race?

  He nocked another arrow and scanned the endless wall before him. There had to be a way.

  And then he saw Stassi. Her face a mantle of rage as she sped downward through the air in pursuit of someone.

  Bannon, no doubt.

  Cal ducked as a Faedin flyer dipped down from the sky directly overhead. He squinted against the sunlight and recognized Gilad. His arms shot into the air, waving frantically. “Gilad! Over here! Gilad!”

  The warrior heard his call and dropped down next to him, his clothes and body drenched in blood.

  “Take me to the pit, Gilad! Stassi is there!”

  To the Faedin’s credit, he needed no more motivation. But, too late, Cal realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Instead of lifting Cal under his arms, Gilad snatched him by the shoulders, talons biting deep, and swung him off the ground.

  Cal bit back the scream that tried to struggle free and bore the agonizing ride over the battlefield. Despite the pain, he couldn’t help but look down, and then he wished he hadn’t. A river of red ran over the countryside, carrying the lifeblood of the Faedin along with it.

  Gilad suddenly cursed, and Cal pulled his eyes away to find the source of the warrior’s anger.

  He found it easily.

  Behind the pit, Stassi and Bannon were in a physical fight, struggling for the same thing — the man from the track who now sat helplessly tied to a tree.

  Stassi fought valiantly for her people and her right to exist, but Bannon was much stronger. He backhanded her in a blow so forceful, she slammed against the trunk of a tree and fell to the ground in a crumpled heap.

  With no emotion, Bannon walked away from her and went to the human. He quickly untied the struggling man and dragged him toward the pit.

  “Put me down!” Cal bellowed.

  Gilad swooped down low and dropped Cal before continuing on to fly directly at Bannon.

  Cal rolled across the ground, stumbled to his feet and went after Stassi. She lay motionless, blood staining the edges of her silver hair red. “Stassi! Can you hear me?”

  She stirred. “What’s… happening?”

  Cal looked up. What could he tell her? That the Faedin were dying? That both Julius and Caliphy were dead? That he was at this very moment watching Gilad make a final, heroic run at Bannon? He winced as the Faedin warrior miscalculated and ended up on the receiving end of Bannon’s sword. The sharp metal punched a hole through the middle of Gilad’s chest and out through his back.

  Gilad’s head slowly turned as he started to topple to the ground, looking for Stassi. His hand reached for her in his last, desperate moment, proving what the warrior would never have admitted in life. He loved her. Then again, perhaps even he had not known.

  Cal told Stassi none of this, and could only watch in horror as Gilad slammed to the ground, and Bannon hauled the human over his shoulder.

  “No!”

  “Tell me!” Stassi demanded urgently, trying to get up. “Cal! My leg! I can’t move! I think my wings are broken, too.”

  Cal barely heard her. He took off at a dead run toward Bannon, praying he could get there in time. Fear-induced adrenaline pushed him onward, his gaze focused on his target.

  The traitor Faedin glanced back and saw Cal coming, causing him to race faster toward the pit.

  Cal ran and dove through the air, but before his arms could wrap around Bannon, the warrior heaved his human captive into the middle of the blackened circle.

  The man sat stunned for a moment, and it was a moment too long. The ground beneath him began to seethe in a turbulent churning. Ghostly fingers emerged from the pit and clutched at him — his clothes, his limbs, his hair. The man shrieked in horror as he tried desperately to get away, but the hands held firm, dragging him down, lower and lower. It seemed to take a lifetime, but finally, the man disappeared completely and his screams were silenced forever as the pit hardened over once again.

  The fighting came to an abrupt stop and a sinister hush descended over the clearing.

  For long moments, no one spoke. No one moved.

  And then it started.

  A low hum that vibrated beneath the earth. Cracks in the surface of the pit fractured and began to spread with loud snapping sounds. Steam hissed through the gaps, releasing black, smoky bubbles into the air. A larger hole opened up and an intense sulfur smell blasted forth, followed by a concussion so loud and powerful it pitched Cal to the ground.

  And then, the inconceivable.

  The head of an enormous serpent crashed through the crusty shell and issued a screech so devastating that Cal thought his mind would break.

  CHAPTER 25

  Gai’tan

  The serpent swung its head from left to right, its sinewy body undulating as though in great distress. The screaming continued, louder and louder. Every cry felt like a thick needle jabbing straight into Cal’s brain. He rolled on the ground in agony, praying for it to stop.

  But he knew he had to get to Stassi.

  He could see her, lying on the ground, her head buried in her arms. Fighting through the pain, he crawled toward her. As he moved, he noticed dozens of Faedin warriors flying fast over the heads of the Fallen army on a direct path for the serpent.

  How they could manage it with that noise, Cal had no idea, but the sight of them caused his heart to beat furiously with hope.

  They swarmed in, and the great beast disappeared under a covering of white wings and screeched beneath their onslaught.

  Yes! The Faedin were put here for this reason. To fight Gai’tan! They could not fail.

  A violent shudder by the serpent flung several of the attacking Faedin back. Others were still latched onto the rubbery skin, stabbing, clawing and ripping the reptilian scales from its body in order to get to the vulnerable flesh underneath.

  The serpent threw its head back, roared in pain and did the unthinkable. It slammed its gigantic body down to the ground to try and dislodge the warriors. Hundreds died in a single instant, crushed beneath the massive weight.

  People screamed and fled as the serpent slithered through the mob. The fractured warriors followed in hot pursuit, flying in close to inflict as much damage as they could.

  In an effort to escape, the serpent burrowed into the earth, heaving dirt and bodies into the air before disappearing from sight. Like a giant worm, it tunneled underground at tremendous speed back toward the pit.

  Cal stood in shock at the sounds of a powerful underground collision beneath the Tree That Will Not Die. And then another.

  What is the serpent doing?

  The vast tree shook violently and groaned as it swayed from the harsh impacts down below. Dead branches broke off and crashed to the ground. Wood creaked and groaned. After a third hit, the tree started to tip forward.

  “Run!” Cal shouted at the top of his lungs even though he knew no one could hear him from his place behind the pit.

  Great roots were ripped from the black earth as the tree hit the ground with a thunderous boom.

  To Cal’s horror, what looked like a sea of steaming lava boiled up out through the hole created by the fallen tree. The red river of death flooded rapidly out across the land in a swath of destruction that showed no mercy. Fiery fingers carved a relentless path, reaching for and killing everything in its wake.

  Men, women and children — Fallen and Faedin alike — screamed as their skin blistered and burned. Cal looked on in helpless anguish, unsure what he could do to stop what was happening.

  He glanced back at Stassi and she was sitting up now, tears running down her face, sobbing in agony.

 
They’re dying! They’re all dying! I’ve got to do something!

  Despair turned to conviction. A white-hot wrath seared through him, scalding his mind, his heart and his soul. Fury consumed his body, coursing through his blood until he felt like he would combust into flames. He bellowed at the top of his lungs and a sharp pain exploded down his back. Dropping to his knees, he vomited, his stomach muscles clenching in uncontrollable spasms. All around him, people suffered and died while Cal emptied his stomach over and over.

  And then, just as abruptly, it was over.

  In the middle of hell, he felt the presence of heaven. A feeling of pure joy that flowed through him from the top of his head to his toes. He sat back on his feet, unable to grasp what was happening.

  “Cal! Get up! The lava! It’s coming!”

  Stassi’s scream sent him scrambling to stand, but he yelped in surprise when his feet lifted off the ground. An instinctual urge to shrug his shoulders came over him and an enormous pair of wings unfurled behind his back.

  Stassi looked frozen in shock.

  Cal had no time to be. The lava had reached their elevated shelf. He ran to Stassi, picked her up from the ground and lifted both of them into the sky, amazed that he knew how to work his new wings. Like an arm or a leg, they felt like a natural extension of him.

  He hovered in the air and looked down.

  “Oh, Cal,” Stassi moaned.

  Groups of Faedin tried to run, but the runnels of fire took them down. Mated couples clung to each other, embracing as the burning liquid rolled over them. Warriors sacrificed their lives to give others a few more moments, some lifting children out of the red until they could hold no more.

  The Elder need not have worried about the compassion of the Faedin, thought Cal. Their heroism in the face of such devastation could not be denied.

  The lava continued to spread, moving past the clearing into the woods.

  Farther and farther it went, extending its reach.

  And then, a shock of cold air blasted across the land, harsh and brutal, cooling and hardening the molten river in its tracks and turning the serpent’s fiery landscape into a smoldering wasteland. Fat snowflakes swirled in the wind, hissing as they landed on the hot earth.

  Winter had come to Faedin and Cal knew instantly what that meant.

  The veil was gone.

  And not just the veil, but the entire race of Faedin.

  “Put me down,” Stassi ordered, her voice empty and cold.

  “Stassi, no!” Cal pleaded, squeezing her tight. “We need to get out of here. We can go to the authorities in my world. They will help us.”

  “No one can help now. Except us.”

  “You can’t walk or fly, Stassi! And if I get killed, which is pretty much assured, you’ll be next. Let me at least get you to safety first.”

  She looked around at the devastation of her homeland. “It is too late. There is no safety left for anyone.”

  A pervasive sadness filled Cal. “But what can we do that hundreds of Faedin gave their lives trying to do?”

  “With my last breath, I will fight Gai’tan. I will crawl after him if I have to.” She put a hand on his cheek. “I am sorry. It is how it must be.”

  He nodded. Of course, he knew that. He just regretted that it had happened so soon.

  “Humans do not understand Gai’tan, Cal. He will wear many disguises while he works to ruin the world. There will be untold suffering and pain if he escapes.”

  “But he’s… a serpent.”

  “Not for long.”

  The serpent had emerged from the pit once again, but now fire danced over its length, encasing it in a tunnel of flames.

  Inside that tunnel, it was morphing. Shrinking.

  The oblong head rounded out and sprouted long, dark hair. Shoulders appeared. Nubs on both sides of its body elongated into arms. The lower portion split into a torso and two legs.

  Soon, more detail stood out. White skin. A chiseled jaw and cheekbones. Red eyes. Clothing.

  At last, a handsome man stepped out of the vapor, dressed in a long coat and high boots. He paused for a moment to take in his surroundings and then stepped onto the blackened pit, pulling lace through the cuffs of his embroidered jacket as he walked.

  A flyer appeared out of nowhere.

  “Gai’tan!” Bannon shouted as he landed smoothly on the ground. “Welcome to the world, my friend!”

  Cal growled in his head at sight of the traitor responsible for so many senseless deaths.

  The devil laughed — a terrible, sinister thing that had no place in this world. “You have done well, servant.

  “Yes, well, you are welcome,” Bannon said with a dramatic bow. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have a whole wide world to explore.” The Faedin turned to go.

  “Halt!” the devil ordered with a voice low and hollow as though coming from a cavern deep in the bowels of the earth.

  Bannon slowly turned back.

  “You will go nowhere, servant.” The menace in Gai’tan’s voice was unmistakable.

  “But we had a deal. I free you, then I am free in return. Simple, really.”

  Gai’tan laughed. “A deal? I do not deal with peasants.”

  Cal could see the realization flash over Bannon’s face. He had given up his people for a freedom that would never happen. He would forever be under the yoke of the devil, and that collar would just continue to grow tighter and tighter.

  Bannon shot into the air in a desperate attempt to flee.

  He didn’t get far.

  The devil reached up a hand and clenched it into a fist. Bannon arched his back and screamed in pain. At a downward sweep of Gai’tan’s arm, Bannon slammed back to the ground. The devil stalked forward, yanked a sword free of the blackened earth and beheaded his liberator.

  The sword dropped to the ground with a tinny clink and Gai’tan strode away without a backward glance. Walking from Faedin on his own, each step taking him closer to mankind.

  “Turn him around, Cal,” Stassi begged softly. “We can’t let him leave!”

  Panic settled in Cal’s chest as he watched the figure move with purpose across the barren landscape. The nightmare he had suffered for years flooded back to him. All the same fears and vulnerability. The same sense of failure and despair. Was Gai’tan the shadow of his dreams? He had always thought it to be his stepfather, but now he had to wonder. Maybe they were one and the same. Whatever the truth, it looked as though he was destined to see them both dead.

  Slowly, he flew downward and placed Stassi gently on the ground. He met her gaze and what he found there shook him to the core — an unwavering and absolute belief in him. He wished he could assure her that it was well-placed.

  He kissed her mouth fiercely and then pulled away. With one last smile for the warrior girl he loved more than life itself, he straightened. “Gai’tan! Gai’tan!”

  The devil turned in surprise. “Oh, now this is interesting. Survivors.” He started back at an unhurried pace toward them, his boots clicking on the hardened lava. As he drew near, his eyes ran seductively over Stassi. “And a beautiful one at that.”

  Cal stood in front of her protectively.

  “How noble,” Gai’tan drawled. “But entirely unnecessary. I have no desire to kill either of you. You see, I find myself in need of servants to help me navigate this new world.”

  “No thanks,” Cal said with a snort. “I saw what you do to your servants.”

  “The man was an idiot,” Gai’tan said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

  “True.”

  Gai’tan reached out toward Stassi. “You, my dear, will be more than a servant. You will be my concubine and hold a place of honor at my side. Come.”

  “She’s not going anywhere. Neither are you.”

  The devil sighed dramatically. “You cannot defeat me, young man, so allow me to disabuse you of that notion right away in order to save you an enormous amount of torture.”

  “I’ve been tortured since the
age of six,” Cal told him flatly. “There is nothing you can do to me that hasn’t already been done.”

  “Oh, do not bet on that.”

  Cal picked up the sword that the devil used to kill Bannon and shifted his weight to the balls of his feet. “Sorry, but I can’t let you leave.” He pointed back toward the pit. “That’s where you belong.”

  The devil retrieved another discarded sword. “Very well. A duel it is.”

  Cal’s blade almost slipped from his trembling fingers.

  “You can do this, Cal,” Stassi murmured encouragingly.

  “That is a highly optimistic statement, Stassi.”

  “He can be defeated.”

  “I’m not so sure about that. He has powers.”

  “So do you.”

  “Remind me.”

  “What can you do that he can’t?”

  A smile turned up the corners of Cal’s mouth as he remembered saying those same words to Gilad.

  He stepped out to meet the devil.

  Gai’tan twirled the sword and it looked quite at home in his hand. They began to circle each other. But Cal wasn’t about to have a long, drawn-out fight with an expert swordsman as it could only end one way — with him dead. No, he would only get one shot at this, so he had to make it count.

  His breathing came in rapid pulls as he considered his next move. Around in a circle they moved, tethered together by their narrowed gazes. Cal knew the devil toyed with him, yet he couldn’t just lie down and die. He had to try something.

  The devil lifted his sword and touched his forehead in a mock salute.

  Now!

  Cal leapt into the air with blurring speed, his broad wings taking him over Gai’tan’s head. He swept the sword down on his way past and to his surprise it connected, drawing blood across the alabaster cheek.

  Cal didn’t hesitate.

  He landed behind Gai’tan and screamed as he shoved his sword straight through the embroidered jacket. The blade sank deep, with deadly precision, all the way to the hilt.

  I did it! Cal could hardly believe that it was over that fast. He had defeated the devil. The world is safe!

  “Excuse me.”