Violet snapped her eyes open. “A bit better, thanks.”
“Will you be able to go with us?” Jason asked.
“I think so,” she muttered. “I’m feeling kinda woozy, but I’ll get better.”
“Let me help you,” he offered his hand.
“Okay, let’s go then. We don’t have much time,” Tyler said.
As they walked through the rooms, Jason’s head buzzed with thoughts. Who was the Transcendent Violet was talking about? Why shouldn’t Matt and Debbie go? And if what Violet had said was a Prophecy, then Emily had given away some of her abilities to her. There was only one reason why she would do that.
She didn’t need her abilities anymore. She wasn’t going to return.
Chapter 12
The city awoke from a languid slumber, its dwellers pouring out into the streets in anticipation of a new day.
Pariah had been standing for about an hour watching them from atop the Swedish Exhibition & Congress Center, one of the tallest buildings in Gothenburg and one that attracted millions of visitors a year. Through the Sight, he observed the Energy threads, glinting in thin lines, forming an intricately perfect web out of the seeming chaos. He didn’t move, watching the scene unfolding before him like a hawk expecting its prey to show.
“What makes you wake up in the morning and go to jobs you hate?” His lips barely moved as he voiced his wonderment. There’s an illusion in your minds that you call hope, but it never gets you anywhere. Is it some kind of blissful deception that I don’t understand?
He clenched his jaws as he stared below, waiting. A slight breeze tousled his long hair. A gust of wind rushed through the crowd, and the feeble auras smoldered with dull blue.
“Cold,” Pariah whispered, rejoicing at the crowd’s reaction to such a simple change.
He smiled, remembering the first time he’d entered the Sight, a few hundred years before. It had happened right in the fields where two colossal armies waged a fierce battle. One of the enemy warriors lunged towards him with his sword raised high, and Pariah thrust his shield forward to protect his face, closing his eyes and screaming with the expectation of the worst, not even hearing his own scream in the white noise of the massive battle. And then everything went quiet.
He opened his eyes and saw a man in armor and his sword aimed right at his head, the blade inches from Pariah’s forehead.
So panicked he was, thinking at first that he’d gone mad, cursed by the gods. It’d felt as if he’d entered a parallel world where a similar fight raged, only the soldiers were not human, but angelic creatures. The sounds of the swords clashing, the arrows shooting up and then piercing soldiers’ arms, chests, the soldiers’ screams … everything came so distinct to him.
He managed to escape death that day and later found out he could do other things people deemed heretical and blasphemous.
He snapped out of the reverie as a blast of cold air hit him, his long coat flapping. With a strange mixture of fascination and contempt, he surveyed the crowd as they hunched their shoulders.
A thin crimson thread snaked its way across the square, with no one but Pariah aware of it. It’s time, he thought, turning around and walking away from the edge of the roof.
He entered the stairwell and rushed down the stairs, ravenous for the Energy of the Unsighted. Fear and hopelessness, they were the two emotions he thrived on the most, and a crowd marching to work offered plenty of both. At such moments he would never let another Sighted get close to him. The fury burning through when he nurtured his bestial hunger could make him kill anyone if they dared interfere. The blood in his veins was on fire. His hand glided along the wooden banister; all of a sudden, the longing became so intense he gripped the banister fiercely and it crumbled to pieces, splinters left in his hand. He tossed them aside and continued on his way downwards.
He burst out of the stairwell, diving into the crowd and slithering among people effortlessly. There was something fascinating about the ignorance on the faces of the passers-by. As his shoulders brushed against those beside him, their thoughts leaked into his mind, their expectations and plans, some of them unlikely to ever come true.
Most of you will simply forget about your hopes in a few moments.
Pariah headed to the center of a small square surrounded by shops and boutiques.
That’s where it’s going to happen. He stopped, watching the thin thread draw more threads and form currents of Energy that converged and grew into an Energy vortex where the chaotic movement of the crowd was the most intense.
A young man reeking of cheap cigarettes, that made Pariah reel even at a twenty-yard distance, threaded his way through. With his hands in his jeans pocket, the man walked with a confident stride, as if he owned the place.
Pariah spotted that the man’s right pocket bulged. The young man reached the center of the vortex and stopped, turning his head again and again, the passers-by pushing him as they rushed forward. He took out the object hidden in his pocket, a gun, aimed it at the person who shoved him, a middle-aged man with a briefcase, and pulled the trigger. The victim toppled to the ground and moved no more. The crowd went frenetic, everyone running for their lives as the young man took aim and shot another time, a faint smile playing on his face.
Pariah watched the red currents concentrating around the gunman, the crowd’s fear flaring in bright red threads, and the young man was the force that pulled them in like a magnet. I knew the newbie would do everything right, Pariah thought.
After the third shot the man dropped the gun and broke into a run, followed by two policemen. Pariah took a few steps and stopped where the man had stood, basking in the terror now sewn into the hearts of the people who’d just witnessed the mindless slaughter.
It was so much more enjoyable for Pariah to act through someone else. He only had to pull the strings and make the puppets around him move. Satiating his hunger, he sent his vision after the man who was still running away, adrenaline pumping through his veins as the policemen’s steps echoed close behind.
Caressed by the crimson radiance, Pariah shot after them. The old buildings made a labyrinth, an easy way for the young man to escape from the police. Like a bloodhound, Pariah followed the man’s cheap tobacco scent. The layout of the streets and the man’s position sprung up in his mind like a GPS navigator, and Pariah turned right, then left, then forward.
He could hear the killer’s heart drumming in his chest, his ragged breathing. There wasn’t much strength to run left in him.
Pariah turned another right and there they were, running full pelt, the young man and the two policemen close behind. The young man braked as soon as he had spotted Pariah, obviously sure that Pariah was with the police.
Pariah flicked his fingers, and the two policemen groaned, thrown back by the Energy wind. The young man turned to stare at them, then at Pariah, his eyes wide. Then he took a few steps back, towards the policemen.
“Not so fast,” Pariah muttered.
He raised his hand and traced his index finger down, a black crevice ripping the young man’s reality apart.
An unholy wail escaped Pariah’s lips as he lunged towards the man, his strides making the world around him pulse. He cut the distance in no time, snatching the man by the shirt and pulling him into the blackness that sealed shut as soon as they were inside.
The young man rolled over the smooth surface of a dark room, gulping air frantically, his breaths raw and panicked.
“Son of a bitch!” Where am I and who’s this guy? The man’s voice and thoughts streamed into Pariah’s head, and the Dark One smiled. He took a box of matches out of his inner pocket, pulled one, and lit it.
The man recoiled at the sudden burst of hissing light. Squinting, he pushed himself back. “Who the hell are you? And what’s this weird place?” He spat the words in rage and panic, much to Pariah’s satisfaction.
“You are scared, but you’re trying not to show it.”
“I’m not scared,” the man snapped b
ack. “If you are not here to arrest me, then let me go.”
“You are not going anywhere.”
Pariah flicked the match onto the ground, and the blackness at his feet caught fire, as if drenched with gasoline. Ravenous, the flames rushed towards the young man and soon seared his limbs as he writhed and screamed.
When Pariah had had enough, he snapped his fingers and the flames let go of the man who kept thrashing on the ground.
“You give up too easily,” he said. “And I really hoped you were the one.”
The young man stared at his hands, not blemished by the flames, then snapped his head up to look at Pariah. “Who the fuck are you?”
Pariah waved his hand, and the floor caught fire, the flames snaking bit by bit towards the man.
“No, wait!” he wailed. “What do you want from me?”
The flames circled the man. “Prove to me that you are the one.”
“The one? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You murdered people in broad daylight. Did you enjoy it?”
Pariah forced the flames to approach the man, who sprung up to his feet and stretched his hand towards the fire, sending a stream of insults at Pariah. Then the heat retreated, rippling and hissing as if it was displeased.
Pariah smiled. “That’s better. I knew you had potential.”
The man’s hand trembled as he stretched it towards the flames. “I don’t understand. How’s that possible?”
“Look around.”
A subtle crimson mist swirled around Pariah, growing stronger in color. The man’s hands glowed with ruby red that traveled up his arms and coursed through his body. By the change in the man’s expression—his eyes wider than before—Pariah knew the Energy had welcomed him, giving its strength to him, feeding him with its power.
“This is the world hidden from everyone but a few, and you have potential to make it act the way you wish.”
The man studied his palms then picked one of the threads and touched it. Pariah thrived on the thoughts of fascination streaming through his possible apprentice’s head as the thread twisted and coiled around his arm.
“It can’t be real,” he whispered. “They’re talking to me.”
“That’s right.” Pariah nodded. “You have to make a choice: either you follow me and do what I tell you, or you go back and the police capture you. No one’s going to believe you if you tell them about this.” Pariah waved around.
Letting go of the thread, the man looked at Pariah. “What do I have to do?”
Chapter 13
After Violet had assured everyone that she was feeling better, Tyler led them through the halls of the palace.
When they reached the last door, Tyler lit a candle in an old lantern and turned. “Before we get inside I want to remind you not to touch anything there. Jason, now we enter the Sight.”
Jason found himself in a circle of swirling silver threads as he gained access to the Sight. He held out his hand to one of the threads, and a thrill shot through him. Holding his breath, he stroked it tentatively, and it gave him its warmth, tickling the tips of his fingers.
The threads spiraled around them faster, burning brighter. The lantern was the first to appear in front of them on the floor, followed by dusty shelves filled with piles of old cardboard boxes. The estate room faded bit by bit as the cardboard took its place, burying everyone in darkness. Jason, Alexei, and Tyler could see it in the Sight while the others squinted in the dark, grimacing at the smell of mold and rat droppings.
Tyler picked up the lantern and lit the candle. “This way.” He walked down the aisle with the lantern above his head. The others followed without a word.
Suddenly, Violet yelped and jumped to the right, nearly crashing into a row of boxes, but Jason caught her by the elbow and pulled her towards himself. Something small scuttled in front of them and then forced its way in between the boxes.
“It’s all right. It’s just a mouse,” Jason said as everyone stopped to look what had happened.
“Sorry. They make me freak out.” Violet’s body twitched.
“Guys, you all right?” Matt asked.
Violet nodded.
“Be careful and don’t touch anything,” Tyler repeated.
“Sorry. I panicked,” Violet said, and everyone else moved on. “I’m not proud of it,” she said to Jason under her breath.
“It’s all right.” Jason let go of her hand, but he still felt the prickling the touch of her skin caused against his fingers. “Just in case, what else are you afraid of?”
Violet’s features sharpened; her face turned grim. “Right now I’m scared of myself, of what else I can do. What if next time I’m going to hurt someone?”
Jason raised an eyebrow, his lips curved down. “No, you won’t.”
Violet turned away, rubbing her eyes with her sleeve.
“I’m sorry I brought that up,” Jason said. “I promise I’ll do everything to get you back home safe. It’s my fault you’re here.”
“No, it’s not,” she said. “If I get it right, there’s something much stronger than both of us that made me find you.”
“I think you’re right,” Jason said.
“You’ve asked a lot of questions about me. Now it’s my turn.” She smiled at him.
“Okay.”
“Tell me about you and your parents. Do you have brothers and sisters?”
Matt cleared his throat. “Sorry for being so tactless, but I wanted to warn you Jason doesn’t like talking about his parents.”
Violet shot a look at Jason. “Why not?”
“I’ll tell you about them later. It’s a long story.”
Tyler stopped to inspect one of the boxes, then turned to face the group. “Here it is. I’m sure you know what to do now.”
“What if anyone sees us appearing out of nowhere?” Alexei asked.
“Highly unlikely,” Tyler said. “This box will take you to a small, secluded space, and even if by any chance there are people out there, they won’t pay any attention to us. Any other questions?” Tyler eyed everyone, but no one volunteered. “Okay then. I’ll be the first to go. See you in London.” A weak smile played along his lips. He applied his hand to the box and a flash of bright light followed. Everyone blinked and squinted, only to find Tyler gone.
Matt, Alexei, and Violet were the next to go. Every time a person touched the box, the same brightness illuminated the dark room.
Debbie turned to Jason. “See you soon.”
She touched the box and left Jason alone in the dark. He stretched his hand to the box, and his fingers grazed its surface. His body was sucked into a violent whirlwind as he tumbled downwards. The transportation reminded him of the way he had moved along the tunnels of the underground, only this time he had nothing to grasp for support.
Jason’s good mood evaporated as soon as he’d realized the journey lasted more than just a few seconds. He could swear it had been half a minute since he’d touched the box, but there was no end to it.
What’s going on? I don’t think that’s the way it’s supposed to be. All of a sudden, the tunnel twisted and he hit his back, still rushing further, picking up speed. He waved his hands trying to grasp something, but the walls were smooth. When he thought he’d manage to slow down his fall, another bend threw him against the wall.
He gulped a lungful of air and focused on his hands, his fingers twisted into claws. Silver lightning sprouted out of his palms, sparks shooting in Jason’s wake like a comet trail. When he thought his fall slowed down, the tunnel branched into dozens of entries, and Jason got struck in the chest by an invisible power that pushed him into one of the passages. This one was narrower, spiraling in a way that made Jason sick.
The passage twisted one last time before Jason realized the walls were getting darker. There was darkness ahead, and he would soon be swallowed by it. As he made his last attempt to grasp the wall, the same invisible power hit him in the head, and he plunged into total darkn
ess.
***
“Where the hell is he?” Debbie freaked out, looking at the rest of the company.
They’d ended up in a closed space, just like Tyler had told them. It was made up of bricks and reminded Debbie of a huge chimney only there was a door on one side. Strangely, the hum of the city was somewhere close by, as if coming from behind the walls. Debbie made a quick scan of the place—the floor was chipped, the bricks strewn around, and a gray sky gaped at them from above.
“What is this place?”
“It’s a hidden room,” Tyler said. “We’re in luck that no one’s using it today.”
“Where’s Jason?” she asked, as if not hearing what Tyler was saying. It had been a few minutes already since she landed in this weird room. “He should’ve been here by now.”
No one responded. Sighing, she leaned against the wall, thrust her hand into her pocket, and pulled the cell phone. Feverishly hitting the buttons, she took quick breaths, not really getting why everyone else seemed so calm, then pressed the cell to her ear.
A female voice told her Jason’s cell was out of the coverage. “Damn it! His cell’s dead.”
“We need to go back,” Matt said. “Can we do it?”
“I’m afraid it’s not possible,” Tyler replied. “You can’t return there the same way.”
“What? How’s that possible?” Matt yelled.
“Chill out, Matt,” Debbie said, then spun towards Tyler. “What do you suggest then?”
“If he doesn’t arrive within another five minutes, we’ll have to leave.”
“Without Jason?” Matt nearly yelled.
“It’s Jason. He’ll take care of himself,” Tyler raised his voice.
Debbie buried her face in her hands and slid down the wall. She combed her hair back and looked up. “It’s not supposed to be like this. What if Violet was right? What if we should’ve stayed at your place?”
Tyler crouched in front of her, put his strong hands onto her fragile shoulders, and looked into her eyes. “Don’t panic. He’ll figure out what to do.”
Path of the Heretic (The Beholder Book 2) Page 7
