The Fallen Prince kol-2

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The Fallen Prince kol-2 Page 15

by Shea Berkley


  The gate to our backyard swings open. Grandpa steps out. “Dylan!” his call rumbles with concern.

  The poison rushes on. Radiating in an ever-widening circle. “Get back!” I growl. There’s no sign of myself in the voice that explodes from me.

  As Grandpa hesitates, Grandma appears and moves closer. “Dylan?”

  “No!” I call. Misery slips into my voice. “No. Please.”

  I can’t let them die. I won’t be the cause of more death. I struggle for control, grit my teeth, and will the power to obey me…and it does.

  The magic in me surges one last time and disappears. Exhausted from the fight, I rip my hands from the earth and collapse onto my back, holding my hands out, seeing the white-hot vapor pulse, then fade.

  Kera’s gone.

  A hole has been punched through my heart, and I can’t take a deep enough breath. I can’t speak. I can only shake, as if I’m coming off a meth high, and I stare at the darkening sky.

  Grandma and Grandpa rush to me, their footsteps crunching against the newly burned ground.

  Reggie appears, breathless and sweaty. “Did you see that thing? It took the girl. I would’ve shot it down, but I was afraid I’d hit her.”

  “We saw. You did right,” Grandpa says. Grandma whispers to Grandpa, wondering what’s happened to me. Grandpa doesn’t say. He bends over me, his face a mixture of shock and anger. “Get up.”

  The command is clear, but I can’t. I’m all flesh. No bones. Without Kera, I feel all gray. Completely colorless. Joyless.

  And then there’s the after-burn of my powers. I can’t stop shivering.

  Grandpa squats and pulls me upright. I struggle to be free, yelling Kera’s name over and over as he hefts me over his shoulder. He squeezes my legs to still me and mutters, “Damn your hide, boy. I’m getting too old for this.”

  “He’s burning up.” Grandma slips her hand over my heated skin and cups my cheek. “It looks like he’s sunburned.”

  They carry me toward the house, their concern a comfort I need but can’t seem to take.

  Leo appears at the gate and holds it open for them. He surveys what I’ve done. “Not again.”

  “He’s done this before?” Grandma asks, her voice rough, as if she’s been yelling over a thousand other voices.

  “He’s done worse,” Leo admits.

  Grandma stifles her distress against her fingers. The sin that I wanted to keep secret is finally out. I begin to mumble. “People are dead…killed...by me. I’m sorry. The first in me…it’s not good…evil. I can’t control it. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

  Leo briefly places his hand on top of my head. “You did good, bro. Everyone is still alive.”

  “Kera’s gone.” I’m drowning in my own guilt. “I failed.”

  “Giving up is failing,” Grandpa says as he takes the stairs two at a time. “We’re not giving up. We’ll find her.” Using his foot, he nudges and then shoulders his way around the kitchen door. Bodog’s moan of despair reaches my ears, yet he bolts out. No one bothers calling him back, mostly because we know he won’t go far.

  Slumped over Grandpa’s shoulder, I’m easily dumped on the couch, and a cool, wet cloth is slapped on my forehead. I meet everyone’s stare. Everyone except Reggie. His interest lies more on what’s outside. Every time our eyes meet, they reflect the horror of what he’s seen. He’d like it if I disappeared and left them all alone. Who could blame him? Pop, Reggie’s dad and Leo’s grandfather, is dead because of me. So much bad has happened, I can’t stand to look at myself in the mirror.

  The room is silent. Everyone stares at me, waiting for I don’t know what. Grandma flips the cloth on my forehead. Minutes pass. My mind clears. I’m oddly calm. I fought the craziness that’s in me and won. I now have a purpose and a confidence I’ve never had before. I know exactly what I need to do. I tug the cloth off and ease myself into a sitting position. “I nearly killed all of you and for that I’m sorry. I’m a real keeper, aren’t I?”

  “Well…,” Reggie drawls softly.

  Leo slants his dad a warning, then puts on a cheesy smile and directs it at me. “No worries, bro. We needed to clear a few trees around there anyway. You actually helped us, right Dad?”

  Reggie shrugs and turns away. “Sure.” He lifts the corner of the shade and peeks outside. Tension oozes from his every move. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t want to get caught with my pants down again. If that thing comes back, I have every intention of blasting it out of the sky.”

  Grandpa nods. “Okay. Reggie and I will go get the guns. The rest of you stay put. When we get back, we’ll figure out what to do about Kera.”

  The look he gives me before he leaves says it all. I’ve been relegated to the group of women and children. Stay put. Don’t move. In other words, I’ve done enough damage.

  Grandpa fails to understand this is my fight. I’ve made mistakes. My powers are unpredictable at best, but I’m the one who’s got to solve this mess. Not him. Not Reggie. Not anyone. Just me.

  On their way out, Grandpa and Reggie pass Wyatt coming up the porch steps.

  I stand, though Grandma fusses at me not to, and my gaze settles on Leo. “Where’s Bodog?”

  The back door opens and Wyatt calls into the house, “Hey, do you all know there’s some ugly little guy outside slurping down burned worms?”

  “It’s disgusting,” Grandma mutters, unconsciously balling the wet cloth in her hands.

  “What happened?” he asks.

  Leo waves at me. “Dylan happened.”

  Wyatt slumps onto a nearby chair and tosses his feet onto the coffee table. “Why am I not surprised?”

  Leo gives Wyatt a condensed version of events from the wriggling monster to the flying beast, throwing strained glances at me as if he expects me to go supernova on him again.

  “He could’ve been hurt,” Grandma says. She moves near Wyatt and smacks his legs, and he drops them off the table.

  Leave it to her to think of my welfare when I could have so easily crispified her and Grandpa. I don’t deserve her devotion. I hate causing her worry, but what other choice do I have? I nod Leo toward the door. “Go get Bodog.”

  Leo takes off to do as I ask, and Grandma’s expression pinches with anxiety. “What’re you going to do?”

  I don’t answer her. If she knew what I planned, she’d try to stop me.

  “Dylan?” Her worry echoes in the sound of her voice.

  Nothing can stop me now. I get why everyone’s on edge. I get that I’m not superhuman. But I’m more than human. I’ve got powers none of them know about. The explosive nature of my new gift races under my skin in a way that’s frightening…but I’m done being scared.

  I’m going to let the first part of me take control. On purpose this time. It’s the only real weapon we’ve got. And for the first time, I can honestly say I’m not scared of what I am.

  Part Two

  The land burns.

  The dark rises.

  Only one can save what was once lost to a living grave.

  Edge of the Unknown

  The talons clenched around Kera’s shoulders dug into her muscles. She hadn’t thought this through. Her scream caught in her throat as the creature lifted her high above the treetops. Twisting and turning, she tried to reach her incordium dagger, but couldn’t. No amount of struggling helped.

  She was roughly shifted, and the next moment they dove toward the earth. Their descent crashed them through the ends of branches that slapped and stung Kera’s cheeks. Her feet hit the ground, and she was dragged, ripping a long furrow into the dirt. The tri-top’s wings flapped in hard sweeping beats, creating a huge wind as it ripped a hole through the barrier. The mist surged around her, clung to her skin, pulled her forward, and all too soon they were in Teag.

  The tri-top raced upward until the scope of Teag lay below them. The land was under attack. How could so much have changed in one day? Kera could see small skirmishes, feel the heat of
fire and smoke as far-flung towns burned. Refugees clogged the roads as they fled. It was as if someone was creating a ring of fire, burning Teag from the outside in with the intent of driving the people toward a massive walled city under construction that Kera had never seen before. The city was as beautiful as it was frightening. Like unwary cattle on their way to the slaughter, none of them knew the danger they were running toward. Kera screamed for them to turn back, but her warnings were stolen by the wind.

  When she was young, her dreams had been dotted with feelings of helplessness, feelings of being caught and unable to break free. Her nightmares had come true, but seeing others marching into a trap was far worse.

  Ahead, an old bridge no one ever used—ever—stretched across a river less than a mile long that would mysteriously appear and then disappear into the ground. Horrific stories were attached to the place. Stories of death and despair and lost hope. Get too close and the hair along the back of the neck would rise, followed by the sensation of a hundred needles stabbing the skin. Linger too long and the pain turned torturous and always convinced people to find another route.

  Yet the beast flew straight for the bridge. Twenty feet. Ten. They were moving so fast, the pain of needles quickly morphed into the dig of a dagger. Kera cried out and fought against the bubble of her rising panic. Five feet. Two feet. They were at the edge of the gorge.

  The tri-top pressed forward. Kera felt the thickness of magic give, like a heavy velvet curtain being ripped apart, and the little gorge suddenly turned into a gaping canyon.

  The next wingbeat brought into the view the land of the Unknown. No one had to tell her. She just knew. It was a place where only the harshest and most vicious of creatures lived. Nothing kept the evil in check except the cloaking spell and the ragged and impossibly deep chasm magic had created.

  As soon as they hit the edge of the canyon, the pain ceased and Kera closed her eyes. All sound dropped away as if it were being sucked into the abyss. The tri-top’s wings beat harder, straining to reach the other side. Only when the sound of the wind against the leaves returned did she open her eyes. The Unknown stretched out before them, much larger than she ever dreamt possible. In the distance, a lake the color of amethyst sparkled eerily, and beyond that a smoldering caldera spewed thick, acrid smoke.

  The struggle to fly across the chasm caused them to drastically drop lower. They were skimming the top of the forest where the trees jutted out at strange angles and rough leaves edged in silver shimmered prettily. Kera couldn’t stop her feet from hitting a few branches and knocking the leaves free. Dozens of cuts slashed across her boots’ stiff leather, and a silver-edged leaf got stuck.

  The leaves were as sharp as knives.

  The tri-top fought to fly higher, banked to the left, and headed straight toward the caldera. Even in the light of day, the pop and spit of lava could be seen.

  “Oh no, no, no.” An image of her being dropped into the caldera, skin and muscles blistering off her bones, caused Kera’s stomach to wrench against itself.

  Every action in life carried risk. If she did nothing, she was sure she would die. She had to reach her incordium dagger. Seeing a branch sticking into the air, she waited. When they flew over, she placed her feet on the limb and pushed, sweeping her legs up. She grabbed the dagger’s hilt sticking out from her boot and pulled the weapon free. Her grip was so tight, she could feel the ridges on the hilt dig into her fingers. The tri-top jerked higher, gaining distance between them and the treetops.

  Falling into the trees, there was a chance at life. With a quick motion, she cut the tendon on the tri-top’s left claw. The animal screamed and jerked its foot up, letting her left arm go in the process. As she hung suspended in one claw, she waited for a gap in the trees. When she saw one, she quickly slit the other tendon. The claw opened and she slid free, the talon scraping her skin raw.

  She called on the trees to catch her, but only a few limbs quivered at her command. Concentrating harder, the leaves trembled, and at the last moment, they detached from the branch, falling to the ground just as the limb shot out and plucked her from midair.

  Kera’s heart thudded wildly as she lay stunned in the crook of the newly bare branch. The landing had been hard, not at all like the soft touch of the trees in her woods. It was almost as if the tree fought to obey her. Her right shoulder was bloody and raw, and her back hurt from the landing, but she was alive. She eased herself into a sitting position and gauged the distance to the ground. More than ten feet by her estimation. She carefully plucked an especially nasty sharp leaf from her boot and prepared to jump.

  Before she could do it, a bird landed on the end of her branch and cocked its vibrant blue head. A series of crisp, high notes sang out and the bird turned its hypnotic yellow eyes on Kera. The long, multicolored tail swished in a way that made the colors shimmer. Like the eye-catching shimmer of the silver-edged cutting leaves, there was always danger hidden within the beauty of the Unknown.

  Kera sat perfectly still, hoping the bird would fly off. One moment the bird sat prettily, the next moment, it morphed into an emaciated girl, crouched and snarling. The beautiful feathers were replaced by reptilian scales, and the tail was now a whip of skin and bone. The girl’s stiff lips parted. No sound came forth, but Kera’s head felt as if it were being torn apart.

  She slumped backward and flipped off the branch, miraculously landing solidly on the ground. Like a worm working its way into an apple, the pain burrowed deeper inside her head. Kera closed her eyes and blindly darted into the shadows. She wanted to cry, to stop and curl into a ball. Her feet tangled and she stumbled. Mind full of pain, she whimpered and felt a warm trickle of blood seep from her nose. Even as she felt her mind tearing under the onslaught, she forced herself to keep moving.

  Though she tried, the forest didn’t respond to her commands, as if it balked at helping something destined to die anyway. She ended up barreling through the brambles. Barbs tore through her clothes, leaving behind nasty scratches.

  Though the pain slowly faded, her heart raced. She had to calm down. Her mad dash into the woods was doing more harm than good. Slowing, she listened for any pursuit.

  The woods were quiet, all except a strange cry she couldn’t quite place. Was it up ahead? Behind her? Kera pushed her way forward until the trees thinned at the edge of a clearing. The strange cry sounded again, closer. It held a note of misery to it. Peeking through the brambles, she saw movement in the clearing. The wounded tri-top that had carried her here lay on the ground as a pack of huge wolflike creatures soundlessly tore into it. Their quiet ferocity chilled her, and in minutes, the tri-top was a jumbled pile of blood, feathers, and bones. It had served its purpose by bringing her here. She could only guess that whoever had enchanted it didn’t care if it lived or died. Much like her. A shiver crawled down her back.

  One of the wolves suddenly turned and stared in the direction Kera was hiding, its eyes glowing red in the fading light. The creature stood on its back legs like a man and walked closer, its powerful body undulating grotesquely as it moved. It sniffed the air. Kera shrank against the shadows, her breathing so faint, her vision blackened around the edges.

  The wolf-man suddenly stopped when one of the others drew closer, yipping and snipping, sharp teeth flashing threateningly. The wolf-man turned with hackles raised and growled.

  While their attention was diverted, Kera scooted away on trembling legs. A light rain had begun, its erratic patter enough to cover the sound of her escape. It was all she could do not to run from the area in horror at what she’d just seen.

  When she finally stopped, the woods were cloaked in rain and darkness. The downpour made her progress miserable. Standing still left her struggling to stay upright. She had to find shelter somewhere safe and dry, but all she found was rain, soggy ground, broken fingernails, and a bone-deep chill. She couldn’t imagine finding a dry patch of ground, let alone shelter. It took her a half hour more of slipping and catching herself against one tree
after another before she found a den made by some large animal. It had been dug at the base of an earthen slope. Bushes not only concealed the entrance, but it was a natural wind- and rain break. Kera eased the foliage from the entrance and stooped inside. Cobwebs stretched across the opening and clung thickly to the walls—a sign the den had been abandoned long ago. Although she wasn’t fond of spiders, she didn’t think twice about going in. The den wound deeply into the earth, and when she reached as far back as she could go, she dropped to her knees and hugged her torso.

  Shivering in the dark, she thought of what she knew of the Unknown. None of it was comforting. No one knew for sure exactly what lived in the region, but she’d already seen enough. It was exactly why the chasm was created. To trap the evil and let it fight and feast on its own kind. In theory it sounded rational; seeing it with her own eyes made her sick.

  The heat of fear raced through her body. She was trapped with all manner of evil.

  And no one knew she was here.

  Remembering the stretch of empty air over the deep rip in the earth, tears spiked her lashes. She didn’t bother wiping them away. A wave of defeat washed over her. Lying down, she drew her knees to her chest and squeezed her eyes shut. She was good and stuck. No one could help her now, even if they realized where she had gone.

  Because no one, absolutely no one, left the Unknown alive.

  Whispers of Fear

  “What is he?” Wyatt whispers to Leo while I sit across from Bodog at the kitchen table, sketching a picture sure to make the little guy squirm.

  “I’m not sure,” Leo says. “Some sort of cross between a goblin and a gnome maybe?”

  “He’s the perfect case against genetic engineering.”

  Done, I toss the pencil on the kitchen table and flip the paper to face Bodog. He takes one look at my drawings and cries out, throwing his hands up as if to ward off the creatures. Yep, he knows more than what he’s saying. I thrust it closer to him and demand, “What are they?”

 

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