Sorrow's Gift (Eternal Sorrows Book 2)

by Sarra Cannon

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “Every day, I see through new sets of eyes,” the Dark One said. “Millions answer to me now, their life now flowing through my veins.”

  “Your powers are growing,” the witch said.

  “I do not need you to tell me about my powers,” the zombie said. “I need you to help me escape this prison of ice.”

  The witch recoiled at the tone in her mistress’s voice. Even though the body her mistress used was weak and rotting, her voice was strong and terrifying.

  “I will, Mistress. Just tell me what to do. I’ll do anything to serve you,” she said. Hot tears stung the corners of her eyes. She just wanted to please the Dark One. She wanted to be important to someone. Valuable.

  “If the guardians awaken before I am free, they’ll restore the magical shield they placed on this world centuries ago, and I’ll be trapped here forever,” the Dark One said.

  “I won’t let that happen,” she said. “The stone. I have the fatalis stone. The island will mean nothing without the stone. And I can use it to see if the last guardian is nearby. The fifth isn’t here in the city with the others, but if you want me to, I can track him just like I tracked the others.”

  “No, stay with the group for now,” the Dark One said. “But keep an eye on the stone. The fifth’s symbol, what is it?”

  The witch thought of the five symbols etched into the five sides of the stone. An infinity sign for Parrish. A cross for the healer, Noah. Crash’s symbol was a lightning bolt. And the other girl, Karmen, was a rose with thorns.

  “The fifth symbol on the stone is a spiral,” she said.

  “The symbol of the wind,” the Dark One said. “The fifth is a male. Yurick was his name in the old days. It’s his spell that keeps the guardians together, their souls reincarnating at the end of each life. He won’t be far, and it’s likely that wherever he is, he remembers more than the rest of them. He’ll be harder to find because of that. He’ll know we’re looking for him.”

  “But he’s also the most vulnerable.”

  “Yes,” the Dark One said. “I’ll have my minions begin the search for him. He won’t be far from where you are, even if he’s not there in the same city.”

  “There’s someone else,” the witch said, realizing she’d almost forgotten her big news. “A girl. Parrish’s sister.”

  The male zombie opened it’s one eye wider, its mouth spreading open in a hideous smile. “A sister?” she asked. “Where? Is she alive?”

  “She might be,” the witch said. “She’s in a city called New York, but Parrish believes she’s still alive. She seems to care for her very much.”

  “This is good news,” the Dark One said. “I will find her. She may be useful to us.”

  The witch swelled with pride. She’d finally managed to do something right. Maybe she would be rewarded.

  But the Dark One seemed to sense her joy and turned on her. The zombie’s eyes glowed a deep amber as it stood and crossed to her.

  The witch swallowed and forced herself to stand tall, even though she wanted to back away.

  “In the coming days or weeks, it will be too dangerous for us to speak this way again,” the Dark One said. “If one of the guardians sees you talking to a rotting corpse, they’ll know you are not who you say you are. And we can’t have that.”

  “No,” the witch said. “But how will we communicate?”

  The zombie smiled again, and this time, it was standing close enough for the witch to smell its putrid breath. She closed her mouth and stopped breathing for a moment, struggling to stand still.

  The corpse bent down to lower the rat onto the floor, and then stood, its bony hands circling the witch’s head.

  The moment the rotting skin touched her own, white-hot pain flashed through her skull. She tried to pull away, but couldn’t move. Her vision went black and her entire body burned with fever.

  She wanted to cry out, but was scared the others downstairs might hear. She clamped her mouth closed, biting her own lips and holding her breath to stay quiet through the pain.

  She was transported back to the Dark One’s icy prison below ground. The witch dropped to her knees on the hard floor. When she lifted her eyes to the block of ice that held her mistress, the woman’s glowing red eyes were open, watching.

  “Stand, child,” the voice inside her head commanded.

  The witch struggled to get back on her feet, her legs trembling in fear. The burn that covered her left hand ached. She didn’t want to be here.

  “Come to me,” the voice said.

  The witch took a deep breath and forced her feet forward. She had never known a worse pain than the one that had been inflicted on her the last time she’d been brought to this place, but what choice did she have but to obey?

  She moved closer until she stood as close to her frozen mistress as she possibly could. Her breath escaped in a white fog.

  “Place your hand against the ice,” the Dark One’s voice said. Her lips didn’t move, but the voice was everywhere.

  The witch’s lips trembled. “Why do you punish me?” she asked.

  “I do not punish you, dear child,” the voice said. “I honor you. Pain is often a pathway to great power. If you are not willing to prove your loyalty, how do I know I can trust you with so much responsibility?”

  The witch closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. She wanted to prove that she was loyal. Trustworthy. She wanted to show the Dark One that she was strong.

  She clenched her teeth and opened her eyes, lifting her hand slowly toward the ice. Her mind protested, anticipating the pain, but her will pushed her hand forward, her desire to be a part of something greater than herself embracing whatever pain she had to endure to get there.

  She pressed her hand against the ice. Lightning shot through her body, the burn starting at the palm of her hand and traveling rapidly through her arm and into her chest. She screamed, her knees giving out as the sensation spread through her, a white-hot fire that boiled her blood.

  She struggled to pull her hand away and finally, the Dark One released her.

  The witch’s body fell to the ground and she pulled her knees toward her chest, her breaths short and her body twitching.

  “What have you done to me?” she asked.

  “It’s what I have given you that’s important,” the Dark One said. “I have given you a small piece of my regained magic. I have entered your soul and your mind. I have poured myself into your body so that you can become my ambassador in the world. A part of my eyes and ears.”

  The witch didn’t understand. All she knew was pain and terror.

  “From now on, I will speak to you directly through your mind,” she said. “And you can speak to me the same way. If you need me, simply place your ruined hand on your temple. I will sense you and come to you. I will see what you see, and know what you know.”

  The witch tried to understand and listen and obey, but her body was still shaking on the floor of the cave. She closed her eyes, wanting to lose herself to sleep. Wanting the pain to end.

  “Open your eyes,” the voice said.

  The witch forced her eyes open and looked around. She was back in the apartment building, the male zombie’s hands still around her head.

  She backed away and his hands fell to his side, his eyes lifeless and milky blue once more.

  The Dark One was gone, but the sound of her voice still resonated in the witch’s head. She lifted her hand and saw that the skin on her entire left arm was now covered in scars, as if the burn marks had spread from her hand to her shoulder.

  And somewhere deep inside her soul, she felt the Dark One’s hold on her grow stronger.

  Stumbling, the witch made her way down the stairs and into the basement apartment. She locked the door behind her and crept back to her room, glad when she finally was able to slip into a deep sleep where she dreamed of ice and fire.

  I need coffee.

  Karmen was awake but groggy as she steppe
d over Parrish's sleeping body and made her way to the tiny little kitchen. This apartment was so gross. She didn't understand how anyone could live like this. And where were his parents? Was he really old enough to have his own place?

  The kitchen itself was more like what Karmen would have called a kitchenette. There was a small toaster oven and a hot plate. No stove. No full-sized fridge. There wasn’t much storage, either, but when she looked inside the cabinets, they were mostly bare. Except for dust. It didn’t even look like he ever used them.

  Now, the microwave, on the other hand, looked like it was used several times a day. The outside had a string of something that looked sort of like cheese caked on the door. Karmen had never actually seen a microwave that used a dial for the timer. She was used to the large digital stainless steel microwave back in her house.

  Just the thought of her own house made her feel sick to her stomach. She hadn't wanted to leave it in the first place, but she didn't want to be alone either. In the beginning, she really thought it wouldn’t be long before the government got things under control. She’d imagined them making sweeps of each neighborhood, securing the streets and restoring people to their homes.

  Now, though, she wondered if there was even any government left. After what they’d seen at the rescue center, she wasn’t so sure. What if there was no one coming to save them?

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She couldn’t think like that. She just needed to sit down and have a nice cup of coffee to clear her head.

  There was no sign of a coffee maker anywhere on the counter, so Karmen switched to looking through the cabinets. No luck there either. What kind of person didn't even have a coffee pot in their house? She was dying for a sugar-free vanilla latte with skim milk, but to be honest, she would have settled for a plain jane cup of coffee with milk at this point.

  “Whoa, Barbie, what's going on in here?”

  Karmen whirled around to find Crash standing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes and yawning. She wasn't going to let him get to her today.

  “Good morning,” she said sweetly, determined to keep from arguing. “I was just looking for the coffee maker.”

  “Well, you can stop slamming doors in here and tearing the place apart, 'cause I don't have one. Mine broke from overuse, and I haven’t had a chance to replace it.”

  “What? How can you not have a coffee pot? Everyone has a coffee pot, even if they only pull it out when guests come over.” She heard her shrill argumentative tone, but seriously? This guy was annoying.

  “I guess you should call the etiquette police, then. Have them come arrest me for not being the best host. Forget that I saved your pretty little ass yesterday,” he said with a laugh.

  Did nothing faze him? Every time she got around this guy, she ended up heated and flushed, and he ended up laughing. It wasn't fair.

  “Look, Nakamura, or whatever your name is, all I want is some caffeine. It's not my fault you're some kind of barbarian who doesn't care about common decency.”

  Crash walked forward, his black eyes holding her gaze. Karmen took a step backward, but he kept coming toward her. Her butt hit the counter behind her and she leaned back. Crash stood so close to her, it sent her heart racing like a pack of wild horses. What was he going to do to her? She imagined him pulling a butcher knife from a nearby drawer and splitting her open with it.

  Instead, he yanked open the door of the cabinet at her hip and, without dropping his gaze, pulled out a silver can. “Here,” he said, opening it with one hand. The soda let out a hiss as the carbonation released. “Red Bull. It's better than coffee.”

  Crash shoved the can in her hand. It was warm. She slammed the can down on the counter behind her as she watched Crash walk away. Fuming, she focused on that ball of red light she had recently discovered inside her. The energy of it was becoming familiar. Even though she wasn't exactly sure where this new ability had come from, she was slowly learning what she could do with it.

  She felt the light pulse through her, narrowed her eyes on the back of Crash's messy bed-head, and thought: You cannot move. Your feet are frozen to the floor.

  Crash stopped in his tracks, his body lunging forward. His hands whipped around to steady his body and he tried to move his feet, but they were stuck like glue to the bad linoleum.

  “What's wrong?” she asked. “Legs stop working?”

  He turned his head to the side and she could see the confusion and fear on his face. He wasn't laughing now, was he?

  “What did you do to me?” His voice was quiet, all amusement now replaced by fear.

  “I have no idea what you're talking about.” She kept her voice innocent and giggly, feeling high on the power of her new ability. Maybe next time he’d think twice before he called her Barbie.

  “I can't move my feet,” he said, his voice getting higher and more frantic. “What did you do?”

  “What's going on in here?”

  Of course, Parrish would be the one to ruin her fun. Karmen let go of her focus and smiled as Crash stumbled forward.

  “Nothing.” She grabbed the warm energy drink and took a long sip. “Crash and I were just getting to know each other.”

  In the dark basement apartment it was nearly impossible to tell what time it was. Parrish had woken up feeling groggy and disoriented. She’d slept in a large sleeping bag on the floor next to Karmen and the new girl, and even though she was grateful for the safety of this apartment, the sleeping arrangements left something to be desired.

  She’d found herself staring at the new girl as she slept. Strange that she couldn’t remember her own name. It didn’t seem that she’d taken any trauma to the head or anything. Then again, maybe watching the world they’d all known completely disappear had sent her into some kind of shock. It wouldn’t be unheard of.

  She’d barely said two words since they’d rescued her from the closet where she’d been hiding. Was she really the one who would complete their group of five?

  She had to be. Parrish had a dream about a man who had told her there would be five. It hadn’t made any sense to her at the time and she’d been too worried about her mom to even think about it back then.

  Back then.

  Parrish almost laughed at herself. Had it really only been a couple of weeks since that horrible night? How had the whole world gone to hell so fast?

  She shook her head and focused on the computer screens as Crash booted them up.

  They’d been sheltered from so much of it in their small neighborhood, but it had been evident once they got to the city that the world had been violently ripped apart.

  Other than Crash and the new girl, they hadn’t seen a single human being since they’d left Noah’s house. Not a living one, anyway. How many were left? And how many were now walking the streets, hungry for the taste of flesh?

  She wanted to talk to Crash, but he seemed so busy as he got everything set up for the day that she didn’t want to interrupt him. Still, if anyone had answers about how this virus began or how many were dead, it would be Crash. His ability to control machines, computers, and electricity was almost unbelievable. If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn’t have thought it was possible.

  Did they all have powers now? It was something they’d avoided talking about up to now, wanting to just get some rest and try to put the horrors of the day behind them. Today, though, they had no choice but to talk about what was happening to all of them. Were they the only ones? And why?

  Parrish had way more questions than answers, and she was anxious to start asking some of them.

  Crash looked up from the monitors briefly, worry etched across his features. “How did you sleep?” he asked. “Sorry I don’t have beds or anything more comfortable.”

  She stood behind him, trying to figure out what information he had just pulled up on his computer screens. “It was fine,” she said. “Any place that’s safe from the rotters is comfortable at this point. I have a feeling we’re going to have to get used
to discomfort for a while.”

  Crash raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Good point.”

  “What was going on between you and Karmen this morning?” she asked. “I got the distinct feeling I’d just walked in on a seriously awkward moment.”

  He shrugged, but the side of his mouth twitched nervously. “Nothing,” he said, forcing a smile. “I don’t think she likes me too much.”

  “Join the club,” she muttered. “Karmen only likes people with no spending limits on their credit cards.”

  “She’s in for a rude awakening, then,” he said. “I’m pretty sure the world’s about to start dealing in a completely different kind of currency. Those water bottles I have stacked up in there are probably worth their weight in gold at this point.”

  “Speaking of water, do you have anything to drink?” she asked.

  He nodded and pushed away from the edge of his desk, his chair rolling across the concrete floor toward a tall mini-fridge. He pulled out a bottle of water and tossed it to her.

  She caught it and downed about half of it before she came up for air. “Thanks,” she said. God that water felt good against her dry throat. “How long was I asleep?”

  “About four hours,” Noah said.

  She turned as he walked into the room. His hair was a little messy and his eyes were droopy, but her heart still beat faster at the sight of him.

  “Is that all?” she asked. “I can’t help but wonder if we’ll ever truly have a good night’s sleep again. I had the strangest dream, but I can’t quite remember it.”

  “Me, too,” Noah said, studying her. He shook his head. “It’s like the images are on the tip of my brain or something.”

  “Weird,” Crash said, spinning around in his chair. “You know, I wasn’t even planning on getting any sleep until I was able to wake one of you guys up to keep watch, but I must have been exhausted because I passed out right here at my desk. I’d been downing Red Bulls all night, but I guess my body just gave out. I don’t remember exactly what I was dreaming, but I remember it almost felt real, like it was really happening.”