Dreams of Fury: Descendants of the Fall Book IV

by Hodges, Aaron

  The man crumpled, collapsing to the floor with hardly a sound, and Adonis turned back to the darkness.

  Back to the hunt.

  His ears caught the soft thump of retreating footsteps and he grinned, striding up the tunnel after his quarry. The human might resist Maya’s mental powers, might be capable of vanishing from sight, but she could not hide from his other senses. He trailed after the whisper of her soft movements, after the sharp scent of her humanity. No, she would not escape.

  The chase carried him away from where Maya and her new servant battled against the Anahera and the human. Adonis’s master did not need him to defeat two such as them, though as the distance to Maya grew, her presence upon his mind lessoned again, retreating as it had before, until only her Command remained, the order to hunt, to kill. A growl rumbled from Adonis’s throat as he stalked the tunnels, seeking his prey, desperate to finally watch her feeble life fading into the dark. She would pay for corrupting him, for luring him from the path of his Matriarch.

  “You’re a fool, Adonis.” The human’s voice chased him through the shadows, taunting him, ever just out of reach.

  He growled, bounding forward, before he realised her scent no longer hung in the air of the tunnel. Retreating, he found the side passage down which she had fled, and continued after her.

  “A love-struck idiot, lost, alone, weak,” Maisie mocked. “Better you had died, than this.”

  They continued the chase, Adonis ever just behind, though he sensed at times the shift of movements, the human’s presence. She had no stamina, this creature, not with the aftereffects of her injury. This could not last—eventually she would fall, would stumble or trip, and reveal her position. Laughter rasped from his throat as he imagined his fingers closing upon her soft flesh, her screams as he wrought his revenge.

  “Nyriah, she would weep, to see she died for nothing.” Her voice came again, and this time the words struck Adonis like a hammer, bringing him to a halt. “You are a stain upon her memory.”

  A tremor wracked Adonis and he swung this way and that, his snarls echoing in the narrow corridor. Where was she? How he longed to destroy her, to cease her tormenting—

  There!

  He leapt, bounding forward at a flicker of movement. The human had cried out, but there was no escaping Adonis now, as his fist met with flesh. He heard a soft crunch as of breaking bone, followed by a crash as glass struck stone. Abruptly, whatever magic had protected Maisie vanished and she appeared before him, broken wrist clutched in one hand, eyes wide.

  She retreated from him, cursing beneath her breath, but the rock was damp beneath her feet and she slipped, collapsing to the stone. Adonis loomed above her, breath hissing in and out as he drank in her fear, her terror. The time had finally come, his vengeance, his redemption.

  “They’re alive,” she said suddenly, eyes wide as they met his glare. “The fledgelings, they’re safe. She’ll never find them. Thanks to you.”

  Adonis stumbled to a stop. Her words pierced the darkness upon his soul, the fog of his mind. Those words, they should have enraged him, driven him to a fury, for they proved the magnitude of his treachery.

  Instead, he felt a thrill, a sharp joy that swelled within, growing, swirling as it burned up his hatred, his anger. A gasp tore from his throat and he staggered back from her, shuddering, struggling.

  “I know you’re in there, Adonis,” Maisie’s words chased him.

  Placing her good hand on the stone, she pushed herself up, her legs struggling to support her. One was slightly crooked, its bones healed poorly. She was so weak, he should never have let her live. And yet…

  “I know you can hear me,” she spoke again, taking a step towards him, reaching out a hand. “I know you don’t want to do this.”

  Another shudder shook Adonis and he twisted away from her, then back. A moan built in his throat, a pressure, a battle within that threatened to tear him apart. The pain in his soul grew to a crescendo as the twin forces of Maya’s Voice, and his own, did battle.

  I…can’t… he whispered to himself.

  And still the eyes of the human watched him.

  36

  The Sovereigns

  The Sovereigns shuddered as they looked across the battlefield, taking in the chaos of war. Fear and rage and hatred swirled, mixing and swelling as human and Tangata clashed, the screams of the dying and the victors rising until it seemed they were one and the same. Watching the flicker of their auras, they couldn’t help but think it was true, that a part of each soul was lost with the death they dealt.

  The darkness of Maya, and those who had come before, had consumed these pour souls. Even now as the Sovereigns worked to severe the Old One’s influence, the darkness fed upon itself, upon the battle upon the pain and loss and death. These men and women, they no longer wished to see the light, to believe in a better world.

  A piece of the Sovereigns broke with each death, with the loss of every brother, each sister. In their minds’ eye, the terrible waste of war was laid to bare, revealed for the tragedy it was, to witness brothers and sisters murdering one another. Looking upon that horror, they knew they had made the right decision.

  And together, they reached out to grasp the scarlet threads of rage, the emerald lines of hatred. Speaking as one, they sought to crush those dark emotions, to press them back, to contain them in the bounds of compassion and empathy that had once held them in check. Across the battlefield their Voice rang out, muting those terrible passions, trying to heal the wounds their foe had dealt.

  Only as they came to an end and looked back did the Sovereigns realise the futility of their actions. As they moved from one part of the battle to another, the fighting paused, but only momentarily. For as the people looked and saw the dead and dying around them, their hatreds crept back, and the battle was re-joined.

  No, they thought to themselves, watching the chaos resume, the darkness sweeping through the ranks of human and Tangata alike, all across the walls, except…

  …except where they themselves stood, surrounded by the glow of their guard. Of all the souls on the battlefield, the Perfugian recruits and their Tangatan partners alone stood untouched by the darkness. Instead, they shone with the rosy hue of hope, of joy and love. And looking upon their friends, the Sovereigns realised their mistake.

  We must focus on the light.

  Gathering their power, they swept back into the chaos, immersing themselves in the surging emotions, feeling the hatred that had torn them asunder, that had led humanity to slaughter helpless children, that had unleashed the Tangatan rage upon humanity. But it was not those emotions, those memories they sought this time. They were entrenched, experiences that could not be ignored, would never be forgotten.

  Yet there were other emotions amongst them, buried deep by Maya, smothered by her hatred. Buried, but not destroyed. One by one, the Sovereigns dredged them from the depths. Images flickered through their minds as they passed above the battlefield: a Tangatan man and human woman in one another’s arms; a human spear raised above a helpless Tangatan child, withdrawn; even images of themselves as they walked the streets of Mildeth and Ashura. Memories still fresh, suppressed but not forgotten. Now they returned at the bidding of the Sovereigns, to remind the people of what could be.

  More and more, the images of hope rose from the past, of families left behind, of children and loved ones waiting, praying for their return, of joys forgotten in the depths of their darkness. The reasons they had first taken steps down this path, but which had been forgotten in the pursuit of Maya’s conquest.

  Amidst it all, the Sovereigns felt their own joy swelling, their memories sweeping outwards to join with the others: the warmth as Lukys danced with Sophia in the courtyard of New Nihelm, the joy of the children in the streets, the hope they’d felt, watching their peoples protect one another, and a future they had once envisioned.

  Of peace between their kinds.

  Atop the walls of Mildeth, Lukys opened his eyes, sensing a
change had come over the battle. Beside him, Sophia stirred too. Blinking, he struggled to adjust to the return, to separate the links of his mind from their union. Relief touched him as he found Dale back on his feet, Keria at his side. And Travis too, standing nearby, an enormous smile on his face.

  Lukys frowned at the sight, and straightening, he stepped cautiously to the edge of the wall. And only as he stood there, looking out across the battlefield, did he realise the change that had drawn them back, the impossibility that had come to pass on the walls of Mildeth.

  Silence.

  * * *

  Erika screamed as the energy gathered in her fist, burning, boiling, blinding. With another cry, she threw out her arm, directing it at the blur in the dark that was the Old One. The figure staggered, but the Old One’s momentum still carried her clear of Erika’s magic.

  Laughter whispered from the shadows as the figure straightened and Erika panted, struggling to gather her strength. The harsh thunk of blows on flesh carried from elsewhere in the dark, as Cara and her half-sister did battle.

  She caught a glint and rustle of feathers as the two darted past. In the narrow corridors, Cara’s wings were only a hinderance against the maddened Amina. Light flashed as the queen snarled and unleashed a burst of her own magic. Twisting, Cara somehow managed avoid the debilitating effects of the gauntlet, her smaller size and agility at least aiding her against the larger woman.

  A crack followed as Amina’s fist collided with the Anahera’s cheek, sending her crashing back. Erika winced and in her mind the voices that aided her rose to a cacophony, the Anahera’s terror swelling.

  Clenching her teeth, Erika forced herself to ignore them, to turn her back on Cara’s plight. She had to believe in her friend, trust she would survive, would distract Amina long enough for Erika to do what needed to be done. There was only way to win this fight—by killing the Old One.

  With Darien down and Maisie vanished, somehow, impossibly, that task had fallen on Erika’s shoulders.

  She balled her gauntleted hand into a fist, allowing the power to grow, to light the dark. Its brilliance revealed Maya standing a few feet away, smile still stretched across her lips, eyes glimmering in her magic’s glow.

  “You know you cannot win, human,” she rasped, “and yet you fight on.” She shook her head. “Such is the arrogance of humanity.”

  Abruptly she flickered, darting forward. Erika screamed, hurling herself to the side and bringing up her fist, unleashing the power. Light flashed from her, silhouetting the Old One, tearing a scream from Maya.

  Then Erika collided with the wall of the tunnel and tears of pain sprung to her eyes. Stumbling, she struggled to see, to spot the Old One before she attacked again. Laughter sounded in the narrow confines, but Erika’s magic must have had some effect, for the Old One retreated again, merging with the dark. Words echoed through the tunnel and Erika swung this way and that, chasing shadows.

  Nearby, Cara screamed and hurled herself at Amina, catching the queen about the waist. Amina stumbled but did not fall. Instead, she bared her teeth and clenching her fists together, brought them down on Cara’s back, driving the Anahera to her knees.

  A snarl tore from Cara as she released the queen and tried to leap away, but the half-blood was faster still, catching one of the Goddess’s wings as they fluttered outwards. Cara screamed as the queen dragged her back, before several feather tore loose, freeing her.

  She staggered away from the queen, spinning, eyes wild as blood dripped from the ends of one wing. Glimpsing the beginnings of madness in her friend’s eyes, Erika cursed, but there was nothing she could do for Cara, nothing she could say to draw the Goddess back from the edge.

  Instead she turned and sought the Old One.

  “It is not arrogance that makes fight,” she whispered, more to herself than in answer to Maya’s whispers. “It’s hope.” Raising her gauntlet, she swung it in an arc, seeking out her foe. “Maybe I cannot win. Maybe you’ll kill me. But it won’t end here, Maya. Even in death, my people will remember my sacrifice. They will fight on against you. Maybe one of them will have the strength to defeat you.”

  Laughter answered her words and Erika suddenly felt foolish, sensed the ridicule of her enemy. Even with the support of the Anahera, she sensed her doom. She could not win this battle, would find only death down here in this darkness. The Calafe would forget her brief reign—if they survived to remember anything at all.

  And Maya would persist, would give birth to more of her terrible kind, barely weakened from the originals. Then it would only be a matter of time before they took the world.

  A scream built in Erika’s throat as she foresaw that dark future. Another flicker of movement came from a nearby corner and she threw out her hand, unleashing the gathering power. Light burst from the gauntlet, catching Maya midstride.

  The Old One staggered as the power struck, bending her in two, freezing her to the spot. Shocked, Erika kept on, pouring her energy into the gauntlet, feeding the magic. Gripping her wrist with the other hand to steady herself, she staggered forward, knowing this was her chance. A dark sound whispered from the Old One as her frame bowed, as her body shook, trembled…

  … then straightened.

  Erika stumbled to a stop as the Old One’s laughter echoed around her. Abruptly the creature darted forward, catching Erika by the wrist and yanking her hands towards the ceiling, directing the gauntlet’s power away from her.

  “Ahhh, but I had forgotten that sting,” the Old One hissed, leaning in close so that they were face to face.

  Erika flinched away from that face. Her power had not been without effect. Scarlet tears ran from Maya’s grey eyes and her cheek twitched with the aftereffects of the pain. Yet she still stood, teeth bared, that terrible insanity watching Erika from the grey depths.

  A scream came from nearby, and Erika’s heart twisted as she saw Cara go down. Before the Anahera could recover, Amina landed upon her back. Grasping the youth by the hair, she drove her face into the stone floor. Screaming, Erika struggled to free herself from Maya’s grip, but the Old One only smiled, amusement playing across her lips as she too watched the end of the battle between sisters.

  Snarling, Amina drew Cara’s bloodied face back, then slammed her into the stones again. And again and again, until finally the Anahera lay limp beneath her.

  Only then did the Flumeeren queen rise. Magic lit her fist as she gathered power there, readying herself to finish the Anahera.

  “No!” Erika screamed, fighting hopelessly against the Old One’s sheer strength. “Amina, don’t you see! She has made you the very thing your father raised you to stop!”

  To her surprise, Amina glanced up at that. A frown played across the queen’s face, but her hesitation only lasted a moment. Her eyes met Maya’s, and something seemed to pass between the pair, before Amina turned back to Cara and raised her fist once more.

  “Witness, my dear human, what becomes of those who stand against me,” Maya whispered.

  “No.”

  Erika jerked as a voice spoke from behind them...

  …then a blur charged from the darkness, and slammed into the Old One.

  37

  The Tangata

  The breath burst from Adonis’s lungs as he collided with the Old One, hurling her back, freeing the human from her grasp. He attacked again, driving a fist into his master’s face, straining to do the impossible, to stand against Maya’s Voice, against her power. Yet even as he struggled, Adonis felt her mind turning towards him, felt the full force of her consciousness as it focused on him…

  Movement came from the floor as Maisie helped the other human to her feet, yet Adonis could not stop to consider them. He launched himself at Maya again, snarling, screaming, determined to stop her, to prevent her from leading his people to disaster—

  Light exploded across his vision as the Old One finally recovered, her shock turning to rage. She moved faster than thought, faster even than his Tangatan senses could f
ollow, and abruptly Adonis found himself on the cold stone, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth.

  “Adonis!” Maisie screamed.

  His heart lurched at the thought of Maya turning her gaze upon the human and snarling, Adonis pushed himself back to his feet, placing himself before his foe. Maya’s eyes widened, as though unable to believe his defiance. Even Adonis struggled to comprehend it, the animalistic desperation that fuelled him. The buzzing of her Voice increased in pitch, scratching at the layers of his mind, but somehow he held it off.

  Gathering himself, Adonis charged again, determined to stop her. But this time the Old One was ready. She caught his fist in one hand, a look of disgust on her lips, as though she considered it beneath her to spar with one so low as him. Her fist came up, and not all Adonis’s speed or skill was enough to avoid the blow. It collided against the side of his head, sending him careening into the wall. Red flashed across his vision, and this time when his vision cleared, Adonis found he no longer had the strength to stand.

  A scream pierced his sluggish mind and teeth clenched, he raised his head, struggling to remain conscious. Light burst from the fist of Maisie’s friend as she unleashed the power of her ancestors, though this time she used it not against Maya, but the other, the half-blood that had fallen to the Old One’s power. The queen’s face contorted as the magic caught her, and she staggered, clutching her ears, crumpling to the ground.

  The light faded as quickly as it had been unleashed as the human lowered her arm. Adonis frowned, his addled brain confused, struggling to track the players in the room. Nearby, Maya appeared equally as surprised, but the human ignored her, focusing on the fallen half-blood.

  “Amina, get up!” Her voice echoed loudly in the narrow space. “We need you!

  On the ground, the half-blood queen stirred, and Adonis realised that her eyes had cleared, that the human’s attack had disrupted Maya’s hold on the woman. The Old One realised it at the same moment, for unleashing a scream, she leapt towards them.