by H. D. Gordon
Her eyes popped open, startling him. Instead of the deep shade of violet he’d come to love, they were all black, no whites to speak of, like ebony orbs staring dully out of her face. Surah’s lips were moving quickly, speaking in the language of the ancient Dark Magic, her voice but a mumble and two tones deeper than normal.
Her hands flew up in a gesture that may have been comical had there been any room for comedy in the small space. As it was, there was not. Black Magic had filled the cabin to the top. One could not see it, but as a Sorcerer, Charlie could practically hear it dripping down the walls, could smell it permeating the carpet, the air.
Just when Charlie thought he was going to lose what little food there was in his stomach, that he could take being so close to such Magic no longer, Surah’s eyes cleared back to normal, the onyx leaking out of them like oily tears, and he felt the Spell she’d cast to keep them safe settle over him like a warm, black blanket.
Surah took three short breaths before slipping the Black Stone around her neck and placing the smaller piece of her royal White Stone around his. Then she reached across the table and clutched Charlie’s hands in hers. Though the Magic had clearly taxed her, the amount of determination on her face alone was enough to take his breath away.
Squeezing his hands in hers, she said, “Are you ready, Charlie?”
He nodded and told her yes, though he was sure that wasn’t entirely true. How can one ever be ready to visit the Underworld? A look passed over Surah’s face that suggested she could see this thought written on his forehead, and her mouth pulled up at one corner in a sympathetic smile.
And then she teleported them both out of the small cabin near the seaside in the human world, and to the Underworld that lie below. Ready or not, there could be no turning back now.
Not for Charlie Redmine, and not for Surah Stormsong. Could be there never had been.
CHAPTER 27
SURAH
Surah’s battered heart was beating like a drum in her chest. The Black Stone rested there, hanging flush against her skin. It thrummed just slightly, sending out vibrations that radiated all the way to the core of her. She had not told Charlie of the consequences of using such Black Magic. There would’ve been no point to that, because she’d had no choice in this.
Consequences or no, this had to be done.
As soon as they landed in the Underworld, a drop of sweat rolled down her spine, a jarring contrast to the chill that had just run up it. The temperature in this cursed world was much as one might expect it to be; hopelessly hot. They were in the City of the Underworld, had landed right in the heart of it, and though Surah had heard tales of this place since childhood, no story or picture painted with the cleverest of words could have prepared her for what she was seeing now.
Charlie stood beside her in a silence as shocked as her own. All around them, fires blazed, offering the only light to speak of. The sky above was an endless, unadorned black, as if stars and moons and suns refused to shine here. Tall, dilapidated structures that casted deep, angry, and shifting shadows made up the landscape, fires burning in them as well, their surfaces black and crumbling, as if they’d been burning for eternity. Really, Surah supposed they had.
Gut-twisting screams filled to the brim with agony rent the dark sky, coming from every direction, from every burning building and flickering dark alley. Those screams and the crackling of the endless flames were the soundtrack, the only noise to be heard other than the rapid beating of Surah’s heart.
Surah felt someone take hold of her hand and remembered that Charlie was with her. Looking all around at the hell she’d brought them to, she wished that she hadn’t let him come. There was a good chance they would not leave this place alive.
As if this thought had summoned them, Demons began to slink out of the darkness, their glowing red eyes glittering with a hunger for death and chaos that could never be sated. The ones with wings took to the dark sky, screeching like diseased birds, the beat of their wings only serving to fuel the endless blazes surrounding them, sending the flames soaring higher, showering sparks into the air.
Surah reached into her cloak, removing a sword, its deadly blade tucked into its hilt with Magic. Quickly, she cast the Spell that released it, and handed the weapon to Charlie. “Don’t let them bite or scratch you,” she said, her voice eerily calm, even to her own ears. “Demon venom is not fun.”
Charlie took the sword and said nothing to this, only gave a stiff nod. She had to hand it to him, most people would be cowering in such a situation, and though she could see the fear in his eyes, he stood strong and steady at her side.
Reaching into her cloak once again, she slid her sais out of the straps on her back, a certain hunger for death and chaos filling her own eyes as she stared defiantly back at the approaching Demons. Anger filled her that was so intense it burned any fear she might have had right out of her system.
She gripped her sais tightly, her knuckles going white, and called out, adding a little Magic to her voice so that it echoed into the endless world around them. “Dagon!” she called. “Come out and face me!”
The Demons were still moving in, and Surah burst forward first, skewering the one nearest her right through the chest, where its heart would be had it had one. The creature let out a screech that stung her ears, and its black blood sprayed out into the stifling air, smelling as rotted as its soul. Behind her, Charlie had spun around and beheaded another Demon approaching from behind. Its horned head rolled into some flaming trash near the gutters, sharp jaws still snapping at the open air.
More Demons came on their heels, their scaly bodies swarming around Charlie and Surah like enormous wasps, their glowing red eyes dead but for that ceaseless hunger. Their agonized screeches filled the sky as Surah and Charlie sliced and skewered one after the other.
To an observer looking on—as several Dark Lords were no doubt doing, enjoying the show the way one might a movie and popcorn—the battle could be said to be quite lovely in its passion. The way the two lovers fought, back to back, with such determination, was a sight to be seen. Surah’s movements were much like a dancer, fluid and practiced to perfection. Her cloak fluttered and flowed around her as she used her Magic to teleport through the air, popping up here to slide her sais through the lizard-neck of a Demon, and then disappearing and popping back up somewhere else to stab another Demon through its red eyes.
Charlie’s movements were no less beautiful, graceful, and deadly. His strong arms wielded the heavy silver sword with ease, arcing it through the air, trailing steaming black Demon blood in its wake. It streaked across his handsome face, which was set in a way that spoke of how many battles he’d faced in his lifetime, of having had to fight for his life on many more occasions than this one.
But the truth was, they could not kill every Demon in the Underworld that belonged to Dagon. There were too many. The bodies of the creatures could pile as high as the burning buildings all around them and still more would come, for there was never a shortage of lost souls, never a drought of ill deeds.
Having gotten out some of her blood lust—which was stronger than Surah ever remembered it being, no doubt thanks to the Black Stone hanging around her neck—Surah slayed one more Demon, crushing its throat beneath her boot with a sickening crunch that sounded like music to her ears. Sheathing her sais, she gripped the Black Stone and cast a Barrier Spell around her and Charlie. Demons began to slam into it again and again, scratching and snapping at its invisible surface with their clawed hands and sharp teeth. They fell away dazed and all the more angry, screeching their awful vocals into the air.
“Dagon!” Surah called out again. “Come face me, you coward!”
Charlie stood beside her, panting. He pushed his hair back, which was slick with sweat. The muscles in his arms bulged as he caught his breath, ever ready for battle.
The Demons began to slink away, the winged ones taking flight and hovering in circles above like vultures. As they started to disappear into the
shadows, which were undoubtedly the true rulers of this forsaken place, she knew that her last words had not gone unheard.
Holding the Barrier Spell in place was not an easy task, and she could not do it and fight at the same time. The Spell took concentration, but it would offer them protection against any Magic the Dark Lord might try to use against them.
Once the army of Demons had scattered, Surah spotted him leaning against one of the buildings to her east. She spun on her heel to face him. She had only ever seen pictures in story books hundreds of years ago, but he had not aged a day. Dark Lords and Lords of Light were immortal, the most feared of all the supernatural races, Gods in their own rights.
Dagon was not in his Demon form, but rather that of a mere mortal. He wore a tailored black pinstriped suit, black shiny shoes that gleamed in the flickering firelight. His demeanor was relaxed, his ankles crossed and his hands resting loosely in his pockets. If not for his soulless eyes, he could pass for human.
His handsome façade did not fool Surah, just as she was sure her delicate one did not fool him. Still leaning against the dilapidated building, Dagon looked up and met her eyes. “Big words for such a little Sorceress,” the Dark Lord said, taking neither note nor notice of Charlie. He watched Surah the way a cat watches a mouse.
Surah lifted her chin, refusing to show intimidation. “Dagon, I presume.”
His dark eyes flashed and narrowed. “You presume nothing, child. You know who I am.”
Surah’s fist clenched tighter around the Stone, her violet gaze ablaze with anger. “I also know you’ve been sending your Demons to attack my Territory, and I’m here to tell you to stop.”
Dagon laughed hard at this in a way that could not be taken as anything but insulting. It was an ugly, grating sound that revealed the darkness hidden beneath the pleasing mask. He pushed off from the wall of the building and strode over to her, his eyes flicking uninterestedly to Charlie and back again. Surah had never found any gaze in a thousand years of life as hard to hold as the Dark Lord she was facing, and she had faced a Sun Warrior in her time.
It took enormous effort not to avert her eyes, and to maintain the Barrier Spell as she did so, but she managed. To show weakness right now would mean certain death, and the Black Stone around her neck was lending her all its power.
Dagon’s face suggested that he knew holding his stare was more than a feat, and a touch of amusement and perhaps some admiration passed over his fine features, but when he spoke, any jest that had been was gone, as if wiped cleanly away. “You’ve come to tell me to stop?” Dagon said. “Stop, or you’ll do what? Your family owes me a debt, and I’m only making sure it gets paid.”
This was the first of any debt she’d heard of, but Surah’s face remained impassive. “I am the last of my blood, and I owe you nothing, Dark Lord.”
Dagon wagged a finger at her, his forked tongue—the only part of him that was not disguised—flicking out across his lips. “Your grandfather made a deal with me, child, and that deal has not been honored. You come here not even knowing the truth of your lineage,” he laughed again. “Did you never wonder how your family came to hold the Sorcerer throne? Did they leave the tale out of your bedtime stories, dearest princess?”
Uncertainty began to spiral through Surah as she tried to take in what he was saying. She found she had to swallow before she could speak, and she could feel Charlie’s confused eyes on her. “I’m a queen now, Dagon,” she spat. “Thanks to you.”
The Dark Lord smiled, forked tongue whipping out and disappearing again. “It is thanks to me, and you’re welcome.”
Surah wanted to cry out with rage. Anger washed over her so completely that she nearly dropped the Barrier Spell and charged the Dark Lord. Had Charlie not reached out and placed his hand on her arm, she would have.
“Careful,” Charlie whispered. “That’s what he wants.”
Dagon finally paid Charlie some heed, distain filling his face as his eyes flicked between the two of them. “Ah, yes, and you must be Charlie,” he said. “Your brother and his Fae lover also owed me a debt.” He nodded toward Surah. “And they paid it with her father’s life.”
Charlie met the Dark Lord’s glare with characteristic impassiveness, and said nothing.
Dagon paid this no mind, as if he neither expected nor wanted a response from Charlie. His gaze returned to Surah. The Dark Lord moved closer now, so close that he could kiss the invisible Barrier between her and him. Surah was unaware of it, but she was holding her breath.
“But my debt with you has yet to be settled,” he whispered, the sound of his voice sickeningly intimate.
The clenching of Surah’s fists was the only physical indicator of the cocktail of emotions swirling through her, and she had her royal upbringing to thank for that. If what Dagon was saying was true, everything she’d believed for nearly a thousand years had been a lie.
Her curiosity got the best of her, and she asked the obvious question.
“You claim my ancestors made a deal with you to take the Sorcerer throne,” she said. “What do you think is owed?”
Dagon gave his head a small shake, his lips pulling up at one corner in a grin that was nothing other than heinous. “An heir, of course,” he said, his voice once again a whisper. His black eyes ran the length of her, and if she didn’t know better, Surah would have sworn there were slimly insects crawling over her skin.
For the life of her, she couldn’t think of a thing to say to this. Her jaw only hung open, her face drained of color at the implications. This only made the Dark Lord’s smile grow wider still. His hand came up, his porcelain fingers stroking the Barrier between them, making Surah shiver despite the heat.
“You want me to stop sending my children topside to your Territory?” Dagon whispered, his voice low and deep, echoing slightly in her ears. “Just drop your Magic and we can settle it right here.” His black eyes flashed red as he jerked his head toward Charlie, gaze never straying from her. “He can watch.” Dagon said, his fingers continuing to stroke the invisible barrier separating them. “I’ll show him how to really please his woman.”
Now any intimidation or fear Surah could have been feeling melted away, replaced with a fire as bright and hot as those surrounding them in this cursed place. Her pretty features were relaxed, composed, but her knuckles were bone-white where they clutched at the Black Stone. When she spoke, her voice came out eerily calm, her violet eyes holding his stare with the strength of a ruler—of a Goddess in her own right.
“I owe you nothing, Dagon,” Surah said. “Send them topside again, and I’ll bathe my land in the blood of your Demons, and after I do that, I’ll come back here and remove that forked tongue from your mouth, after I separate your shoulders from your head.”
Rage filled Dagon’s face, and for a flash of a moment, his true form was visible, the handsome façade melting away to reveal scaled and ridged skin, clawed hands and feet, black, loathsome wings that spanned twenty feet when extended. It was only a glimpse, and it both excited and terrified her, and she held tighter still to the Black Stone hanging around her neck, a crooked smile pulling up her own lips though a small warning voice was whispering somewhere inside her.
She teleported herself and Charlie out of there, somehow pleased with her actions, despite the fact that she’d begun this particular mission with the intents of diplomacy. Somewhere, between slaughtering the Demons and speaking with the Dark Lord controlling them, she had lost sight of this, reveling in the power she felt with the Black Stone hanging around her neck.
They landed back in the cabin, and Surah gave pause at the look Charlie gave her when his shock over the teleportation out of the Underworld wore off. He looked the way a man might when approaching a tiger… cautious. His green eyes flicked between the Black Stone and her face, and he spoke slowly.
“Think you ought to take that thing off now?” he asked, though it came out sounding more like a suggestion than a question.
A touch of irritation
swirled in Surah at this, and her eyes flashed with something that made Charlie almost flinch. This seemed to diffuse her a bit, and she released a heavy breath and lifted the Stone off of her neck, tucking it back into her cloak.
Charlie, still moving with caution, removed her piece of White Stone from his neck and slipped it over her head, hesitating only a moment before placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.
Surah closed her eyes, leaning into his touch, letting him pull the darkness out of her with just his proximity. She was afraid to ask, but she had to know. “Why’d you look at me like that, Charlie?” she said.
He pulled her closer, his arms going about her waist, and his eyes filling with a certain wonder that she hoped she would never stop evoking in him. “Because you can be pretty damn scary sometimes, love,” Charlie whispered, one corner of his mouth pulling up as he tucked a piece of her lavender hair behind her ear.
Resting her head against his chest, she squeezed her eyes shut, just listening to the beating of his heart. “Charlie,” she said, her voice coming out a small whisper, “If what Dagon said is true—”
Charlie shook his head, tilting her chin up with his fingers so that she had to look at him. “It doesn’t matter, Surah,” he said. “No matter how your family came to the throne, it doesn’t matter. You’re a better ruler for our kind than Black Heart and Tristell.”
A tear fell from one of her eyes, though she had not been aware that she was on the verge of crying. Her emotions seemed to be a rollercoaster as of late. “But—”
Charlie shook his head again. “But nothing,” he said, brushing away the tear with his thumb. “All that matters now is that we finish what we started.”
When she had a moment to breathe, Surah was sure that she would have to sort through some of the new things she was learning about herself, but now was not that time, and she knew what Charlie was saying, and that he was right.
