by H. D. Gordon
But Black Heart was no longer distracted, and before the sharp points of the sais could hit their mark, she was tossed into the air in the same way Charlie had been, scooped up and thrown aside by dark magic, her body becoming weightless.
She slammed into the stone wall hard on her left side, knocking her head against it and seeing stars. Pain shot down her body in a hot rush. Black Heart held her pinned to the wall, almost crushing her with the force of the Black Stone’s power.
She couldn’t move, could hardly breathe. This was it then, she was going to die. The thought made a silent terror boil inside her.
Black Heart was sweating, the Stone around his neck heavy and pulsing heat. The thing was fueled by hate and anger, and Black Heart had plenty of that to spare. But it still was not easy using so much power. He was getting better at it, and soon, he would be unstoppable.
He held them both to the walls, like flies caught in a spider’s web. His boots clicked as he approached Surah.
“I know what to do, little brother,” he said, the smile returning to his face as he looked over his shoulder at Charlie.
Charlie’s face was turning red, his eyes bulging in their sockets, but he managed to force words out between his teeth.
“Let her go, Michael.”
Black Heart laughed, and Surah could do nothing but stare at the dark Sorcerer in terror.
“Oh, I think not, Charlie Boy,” he said. His head tilted as his eyes fell back on Surah. “I think I will make you watch her die. Cure you of this…unhealthy obsession once and for all.”
Charlie opened his mouth as if to yell, but Black Heart flicked his wrist, magic swirling around his fingers, and Charlie’s snapped shut, cutting off his words.
Black Heart moved to stand in front of Surah. He smiled. “I’ll give your regards to your father,” he said. “Perhaps you two will meet in the heavens.”
Surah shook her head. “No, we won’t,” she said.
Black Heart’s head tilted again, his eyes dark and amused and murderous. “Why is that, princess?”
Surah met his stare, held it. “Because I’ll be waiting for you in hell.”
Black Heart laughed, deep and bellowing, his wide shoulders shaking. Then, his laughter cut off abruptly, as if by a switch, and his hand came up and clenched into a fist.
Surah felt a crushing weight drop on her throat, cutting off her air completely. Her eyes bugged out of her sockets, and her vision went dark for a second before returning in a blurry haze. Her muscles jerked, but remained plastered to the wall. Her brain began screaming for oxygen. Didn’t find any.
Black Heart leaned in close, the look on his face pure joy.
“In death you will finally learn how to hold your tongue,” he said, and tightened his fist further still.
Now the world outside Surah’s eyes went dark and stayed dark, and she knew she was only moments from slipping away, no matter how hard she tried to cling to the surface.
It was almost a relief.
Chapter 29
Samson
Samson came to a stop when he reached the water. He lowered his head and lapped at it with his dry tongue, watching all around him, scanning the ground, the trees. She was near, he could feel her, could smell her, and this was where the trail ended.
After taking some water he lifted his head and scanned the surroundings again, spotting a waterfall some twenty yards upstream.
Behind a wall of water, Drake had said. Samson’s gut told him that she was there. He made his way back to the trees and began his cautious approach.
Now that he was here, he knew he would need to move silently, carefully. It was no wonder that the beasts had steered clear of this area. The dark energy in the air grew thicker as he approached the waterfall. He could almost taste the Sorcerer in the air, the one who had hurt and captured his beloved Surah, and his killer instinct was set ablaze by the scent.
But Black Heart had the Black Stone, so Samson would need to wait for the perfect moment to strike, and if the foul energy exuding from the hidden cavern behind the waterfall was any indication, that moment was near.
He held his body low to the ground, creeping closer and closer. He could hear voices from inside the cave, made indistinguishable by the sound of the rushing water. His ears swiveled and perked, trying to make out what was being said. He needed to get closer.
He reached the waterfall and hopped onto the rocks at its edge, his paws landing silently and lithely. He listened again before moving forward, but the voices had stopped. They were no longer talking. Samson moved forward, the waterfall concealing him, and poked his head into the dimly lit space. What he saw made a red hot fury burn through his chest.
Surah hung on the wall like some macabre portrait, her limbs limp and eyes closed, pretty face a disturbing blue color.
Charlie hung on the opposite wall, his face twisted with silent agony as his eyes stared widely at Surah.
Black Heart stood in front of the princess, his back to Samson, his attention focused on killing her and making his brother watch. Samson decided right then that he did not want to kill this man, he had to. If it was the last thing he ever did, he had to.
He leapt forward into the air, his ascent soundless, his huge claws extended and large teeth bared. Black Heart’s head turned just in time to see the tiger’s terrifying face flying at him before Samson landed on his back and sent him crashing to the ground.
Black Heart tried to move his throat away, but Samson snagged the necklace holding the Black Stone around his neck between his teeth and snapped the chain, ripping it free. His head whipped to the side and the necklace flew over to the wall, the Black Stone making a sound like rock crashing into rock when it hit the wall. Then it clunked to the ground.
Charlie and Surah fell to the ground in the same moment.
Black Heart still had Surah’s piece of White Stone, and he used it to portal out from underneath the tiger. He removed the sword from beneath his cloak, aiming it at Samson, who was standing over the Black Stone, his head low, amber eyes glowing, teeth bared.
Black Heart moved cautiously forward, his hair standing out around his head, his emerald eyes angrier than ever. He held his sword up and spoke between clenched teeth.
“I will kill you for that, you stupid beast.”
Samson growled, the sound rebounding off the close walls of the cave like thunder. Black Heart portaled to the spot above Samson’s back, planning to send his blade through the neck of the tiger. But Samson anticipated this move, and he leapt to the side, swiping at the Black Stone and sending it skidding over near Charlie, who was just finding his feet.
And Surah was finding hers.
She looked exhausted. There were blood-red rings around her wrists and more angry red marks on her neck. Her lavender hair was a mess atop her head, and her teeth were gritted in concentration.
She rushed forward with her sais. Black Heart turned just in time to block her strike with his sword, the weapons clinking together with the sound of metal on metal.
Samson sprang forward, and Black Heart spun around, slicing the air with his blade and sending the tiger skidding back out of the way.
Surah struck again. Black Heart evaded. He was faster than Sam would have thought, which was not a good thing. Samson kept trying to get at him, but Black Heart portaled out of the way again and again, doing a disappearing and reappearing dance all around them.
Meanwhile, Charlie Redmine was bending down to pick up the Black Stone. He took a deep breath as his fingers wound around it. He held it tight and said one word.
“Stop.”
All three of them, Samson, Surah and Black Heart halted in their movements, their bodies freezing in place. Charlie’s green eyes glowed as the dark power ran through him. It was no wonder his brother had gone insane. The power of the Black Stone was potent, noxious.
“Let me go, Charlie Boy,” Black Heart said, watching his brother the way a lion will watch a pack of hyenas.
“Don�
�t, Charlie,” Surah said.
Samson just stared.
Charlie kept his fingers firmly locked around the Black Stone. He went over to where his brother was frozen in place and put a hand on his shoulder, looking into his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Mikey,” he said.
Then, he moved over to Surah and Samson, taking her by the hand and placing his other on Samson’s large back.
Black Heart’s voice was an angry growl. “Charlie Boy… If you do this, you’re better off just killing me now.”
Charlie stared at Michael, and Samson knew that his words were no bluff. If Charlie did this, the line would be drawn, the decision irreversible. If he didn’t, that same line would still be crossed, only he would be on the other side. He was stuck firmly between a rock and a hard place.
Surah’s eyes flicked to Charlie, her hand in his, her fate heavy on his shoulders. Sam wasn’t sure when it had happened, perhaps it was a combination of things, but he could see that she trusted Charlie Redmine, though she wouldn’t admit it, not even to herself.
And though his face was that smooth, unreadable mask that seemed to be his default expression, Sam could tell by the look in Charlie’s emerald eyes that this decision was not easy for him, that his heart was split clean down the middle, and he was faced with choosing which side to try and salvage.
Sam honestly did not know what his answer would be, though looking back he supposed it should have been clear. They all stood in silence, the only sound that of the rushing water and the thumping of their hearts, and Charlie made up his mind.
For better or worse, and everything that would follow, he made up his mind.
He looked at his brother with too many emotions passing over his handsome face.
“I can’t,” Charlie said. “I can’t kill you, Mikey. But I can’t let you kill her, either.”
And then he closed his eyes and portaled himself and the princess and her tiger out of there, the black magic from the stone engulfing them and tossing them across space and time.
The last thing they heard before leaving the jungle was Black Heart’s howl of anger.
It sounded oddly like a nail being pounded into a coffin.
Chapter 30
Surah
They landed in Surah’s bedroom in her father’s castle, stumbling over their feet and falling to the ground in a heap. Charlie was not so great at portaling yet, and controlling the magic using the Black Stone was quite a task.
They laid sprawled out on the ground for several moments, trying to catch their breaths and slow their racing hearts. All of them were either injured or exhausted or both. Samson had travelled much further today than his body was built for, and his stomach heaved as he lay on his side panting, his long tongue lolling out of his mouth.
Surah was hurting all over. It would be easier to count the places on her body that were not in pain rather than the other way around. Her wrists were bleeding, her face was swollen, her head pounded, and the left side of her body was screaming sorely.
Charlie looked as though he was very close to heaving up the meager contents of his stomach, so nauseated he was from the trip. He couldn’t seemed to catch his breath.
So they all just laid there. Surah climbed to her feet first, moving over to Charlie. Her lavender hair was a wavy mess around her face, which was pinched with worry.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Charlie waved a hand, not even trying to make a move to stand. “I’ll be fine,” he said. “I should ask you the same.”
Surah shrugged. “I’ll live.”
Charlie gave that charming smirk of his, still staring up at the ornate ceiling. “That’s good.”
“Well, I’m fine, too, love. Thanks for asking,” Samson said in her head.
She moved over to him and ran her hands through his thick fur. Samson closed his amber eyes and chuffed a little at her touch.
“Thank you, Sam,” she told him silently. “You saved my life.”
Samson gave her a toothy smile, his eyes still closed. “What else is new?”
All of a sudden she remembered her father, who was dying from demon poison as they sat here taking stock of each other’s injuries. She prayed to the Gods that it was not too late, that the poison could still be reversed.
She glanced at the grandfather clock that stood in the corner of the large room, a family heirloom that had been passed down to her from her mother. The hour read six-thirty, and Surah looked over at the arched windows to see the sunlight had nearly bled completely out of the sky.
Charlie had an arm draped over his face, but he lifted it and looked at her. As if he had read her thoughts, he held the Black Stone out for her.
“Here,” he said. “Take it. Go save your father.”
She didn’t hesitate. She stepped forward and wrapped her fingers around the cold Stone, her hand brushing against Charlie’s warm skin.
“Thank you,” she said. “I am in your debt, Mr. Redmine.”
Charlie draped his arm back over his face and waved his hand again. “Don’t worry about it, princess,” he said. “Just go save the king.”
Surah nodded. “What are you going to do?”
Charlie peeked out at her beneath his arm. “Lie here for a second, if that’s all right.”
“I second that,” Samson said.
“Okay,” she said, “but be quiet. If anyone finds you here…it won’t be good.”
Both Samson and Charlie gave small grunts.
Surah turned toward the door, moving quickly, but when she got there, she turned back. “And Charlie?”
Charlie lifted his head, his eyebrows raised over deep emerald eyes. Surah smiled at him. Not her princess smile, but her real one, and it felt right being there. Charlie returned it.
“Yes, princess?”
Surah opened the door, peering out into the long hallway to find it empty. Thank the Gods. She looked back at him once more.
“Call me Surah,” she said.
Then she shut the door to the room and raced down the hall in the direction of her father’s chambers, hoping beyond hope that she wasn’t too late.
She was in such a hurry that she did not see Theodine Gray as she rushed by the doorway he was standing in.
Chapter 31
Surah
“Why isn’t it working?”
Bassil lifted his hand and placed his palm on her father’s forehead. “It is working, princess,” he said. “His fever is already breaking. You just have to be patient. The demon poison has been in his system for too long. It could take several weeks for him to fully recover.”
Surah’s mouth fell open, and she snapped it shut and clenched her teeth, fighting back tears. It was hard to look at her father this way. She had never seen him look so bad before. His skin was a startling ashy white, like old chalk, and his usually perfectly combed hair sat in thin tangles atop his head. She could see his chest rising and falling with thin, rasping breaths, his eyes closed as if they would remain that way forever. He looked like a dying man.
All the emotions she had been bottling came rushing over her in a harsh wave, and her knees buckled. Bassil grabbed her elbows gently, supporting some of her weight, his face drawn with concern.
“Perhaps you should be resting, princess,” he said. “You don’t look well.”
Surah shook her head and locked her knees, smoothing her cloak out with shaking hands. “I’ll be fine,” she said.
Bassil gave her a dubious look but offered no protest.
Surah moved a chair over by her father’s bed and took a seat, staring at the Black Stone sitting atop her father’s chest. She could see the black magic at work inside the stone, which seemed to slither and writhe, sucking out the poison that was running rampant in her father’s body.
“I just want to stay with him for a while,” she said. “I will rest as soon as I am able.”
Bassil quirked an eyebrow. “You mean when you can no longer stand on your own two feet?”
; Surah gave no answer, just sat watching her father, wishing he would open his eyes and smile at her. She knew Bassil was right. She was in more pain than she cared to admit at the moment, and the thought of crawling under her covers and falling into a deep sleep sounded like pure heaven.
But she would do no such thing. She would sleep in this chair if she had to. She wanted to be there when her father woke up. She had to, because despite what Bassil said, some panicked part of her feared that Syrian might not wake up at all. After all the events of the past two days, the thought of leaving him was just beyond her.
Bassil released a slow sigh. Then he bent at the waist and placed a small kiss on her forehead.
“All right, princess,” he said. “Do as you please. I will be back in soon to check on you. I’ll bring you some soup. I bet you don’t even remember the last time you ate.” His nose wrinkled. “And you may want to consider taking a bath. You don’t smell good.”
Surah smirked, but there was no humor in it. “Anything else, Warlock? I suppose you also want to tell me that I’m having a bad hair day?”
Bassil smiled. “As a matter of fact…”
Surah rolled her eyes. “Oh, just be gone with you,” she said.
Bassil chuckled as he stepped out into the hall and shut the door behind him. He turned around to find himself face to face with Theodine Gray. The Head Hunter gave him an annoyed look. “Get out of my way, Warlock,” he said.
“The king is resting, Hunter Gray.”
Theo nudged Bassil aside. “I have no intention of waking him,” he said, opening the door to the king’s bedroom and shutting it in Bassil’s face before the Warlock could protest.
