Shadow and Bones (Dullahan Book 1)

by Ryvr Jones

  “The great Rhys, the broodiest of them all, made a joke.” Caeron’s eyes rounded and he put a hand over his heart. “I never thought I’d see the day.” Turning to Tarani, he asked, “You exchanged his head with someone else’s, didn’t you?”

  Tarani laughed, and Rhys cut Caeron off, annoyed. “Yeah, yeah. You should take a side job as a standup comedian.” He crossed his arms. “Seersha didn’t tell me what she wants me to find. She claims she can’t, but you know how she is.” Caeron nodded, rolling his eyes, and Rhys went on. “But I know something was left here for me, and moonlight is the only way to know where it is. It will reveal a lock. I just hope it isn’t under debris, or we’re screwed.”

  “What else would be new?” Caeron shrugged. “We’re always screwed, one way or another. Should we pray for being screwed this way, or you’d rather be screwed in another, yet-to-be-determined way?”

  Tarani laughed again, and Rhys let out a heavy breath. Caeron had always been a bundle of laughs. And Tarani seemed to like him, which annoyed Rhys even more than Caeron’s stupid jokes.

  Oblivious to his annoyance, she bounced on her feet, pointing at the center of the hall. “We have moonlight!”

  Finally. “Let’s go. Maybe we’ll get lucky and it won’t take long.”

  “Yeah, right.” Caeron snorted. “What are we looking for, exactly?”

  “The lock won’t be visible by itself,” Rhys explained. “The place where it is will shine with a weird glimmer. It will be barely there, but you’ll know if you find it.”

  They started in the hall, examining each and every stone in the floor, walls and columns. Rhys would’ve kept searching the ground floor, but Tarani insisted she had a feeling they should go to the second floor, so they climbed the stairs to search the gallery. Nothing.

  Three corridors led from the gallery to the back of the castle. The central one pointed North and had higher ceilings than the other two, with high windows on both sides. The other two corridors had windows facing the Northeast and Northwest sides of the castle. Each one of them took one corridor.

  After several minutes, Tarani called. “I think I’ve found it!”

  They rushed to her side and found her standing at the farthest end of the corridor. “There’s something flickering here. Look!” She pointed to a faint glimmer on a column’s base, directly in front of the last window.

  Rhys took a deep breath. “Remember what you said about being screwed in a yet-to-be-determined way?” he asked Caeron as he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension.

  Caeron laughed. “Come on, Rhys, don’t tell me you’re afraid. Get your ass in gear. We need to get out of here as soon as possible.”

  But Rhys was indeed afraid. Scared shitless, in fact. If Brianna had left something for him, it was important. He shuddered. Being involved with important things was exactly what had landed him in the shithole he called life these days.

  And he could feel it in his bones—things were about to get worse.

  “Well?” Caeron prompted.

  Rhys tried to give himself a little encouragement. Get your shit together, dumbass. He sighed. Close enough.

  To his surprise, Tarani came to his defense.

  “Shut up, Caeron,” she snarled. “This is hard for Rhys, harder than either you or I can understand. Let him be.” She took a menacing step in his direction. “If you want to keep your head, that is.”

  Caeron put his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. You don’t need to get nasty.” He wriggled his brows. “Unless you want to.”

  Knowing he couldn’t stall any longer, Rhys took his dagger from his boot and made a small cut on his left index finger. Ignoring Tarani’s soft gasp, he smudged the column with his blood, precisely over the faint glimmer.

  “Far-ani Seareh Medjah-Merah mirun.” He breathed the words almost silently, feeling the old enchantment wash from his body to the stone. It hurt to use the Sacred Language again, another painful reminder of everything he once were, the honorable warrior at the Goddess’ service, the Sheramath’s chosen protector.

  The column shimmered and shined brightly for a moment. When the light faded, a square section of the stone vanished, revealing a niche. A small cedar box rested inside, perfectly preserved by the magic seal. His hand trembled slightly as he took the box, and he silently cursed. He glided his fingers over the lid, where Brianna’s runes were carved into the fragrant wood, tinted with red, consecrated with her own blood.

  Inside the box he found a small flask and a scroll, closed with Brianna’s seal—the ring he still carried in his pocket.

  He put the box back in the niche, turned his back to his companions and broke the seal with trembling fingers, hoping they wouldn’t notice his weakness. Brianna’s smooth calligraphy danced over the parchment.

  My beloved Ryanne,

  His heart lurched. It was almost more than he could bear, to read his old name written by Brianna, accompanied by the endearment he could still hear falling easily from her lips. Lips he’d kissed and loved, and had never forgotten. He forced himself to keep reading.

  After you went away, I tried many times to find you. My search was fruitless, so I resorted to the Leian-Harun. The water mirror didn’t reveal your whereabouts, but glimpses of your future, a time when I wouldn’t be there to help you.

  Even though the Rules wouldn’t allow her to tell you about my visions, I asked the Morahmath for assistance. Someone had to know about this, someone who’d still be above the earth on your darkest hour.

  I had hoped your future would be changed, but if you’re reading this, the time I’ve foreseen is upon you, and she had no choice but to risk her life, her very soul in order to guide you to my message.

  Your soul keeps the darkness inside you. It is the only barrier between the evil you brought from the Abyss and the world. And it’s weakening. Dying.

  If you don’t find a way to keep it alive, the darkness will be unleashed. It will taint other souls, corrupt and devour everything it touches, until there’s nothing left but darkness.

  You need to find the Sacred Lineages. It won’t be easy, I know. Some of the bloodlines have been truncated, but you need to search for the Heirs nevertheless. Without their interference, you’ll fail.

  I did everything I could to help you, and I pray to the Goddess that it will be enough. I created one of the ancient demons, and left her to the Morahmath’s care. Unlike the others you know, Tamerah was created from light, made from my heart’s desire to save you from the darkness.

  She is all the love I have for you, Ryanne.

  Even so, I couldn’t risk her corruption. The Morahmath promised me she would find a soul for Tamerah.

  I also gave Tamerah some of my memories. Due to what was required for her to be kept by the Morahmath, she lost most of those memories. The vial contains my blood, and it will help her to remember.

  I’m deeply sorry I’m not there to assist you. Keep hope close to your heart, Rejan-Ashen. I’ve seen dark days on the horizon, but there was always hope. Never forget it.

  I love you.

  Brianna

  Rhys ran his fingers over Brianna’s signature. I love you.

  Silent tears fell down his face, and he thanked the powers he wasn’t facing Tarani and Caeron. He closed his eyes, but the tears kept falling, his breath choked.

  Brianna. Why did you forsake me, Sheramath?

  Even as the question cut through him as a knife, he knew she hadn’t. She’d loved him and was still trying to save him, even after her death.

  She should’ve let me rot in the Abyss.

  But she hadn’t, and he’d spent centuries alone, living in pain and buried in misery and guilt. She hadn’t, and he was once again forced to face the unthinkable. The destruction of humankind.

  No. I can’t do this again.

  An inhuman sound ripped out of his chest. Rhys threw his head back and roared, his throat burning with the sheer force of his screams. The darkness boiled inside him, gettin
g closer to the surface, snaking under his skin.

  Taking control.

  Chapter Eight

  Rhys slipped back to the place where Tamerah couldn’t reach him, where she knew there was only desolation and misery. He stood still, a statue carved in pain, his mouth like an open wound, bleeding the horrors he couldn’t tell her about.

  The ache in her chest was almost unbearable, a devastating echo of his agony. She touched the back of his arm. “Rhys.”

  He turned to her so fast she almost fell backwards. Roaring, he wrapped his fingers around her neck and squeezed, lifting her off her feet and choking her. Completely black eyes showed no recognition of who she was, even as she clawed his arm, trying to speak to him with her pleading eyes.

  Her blood raced as her heart thundered, muting Rhys’s screams, and she started to feel dizzy. Apparently demons need to breathe in order to survive.

  Another voice rose, shouting incomprehensible words. Caeron.

  The dullahan pushed Rhys and he stumbled, easing his death grip on her neck. She crumpled to her knees, light-headed, and took big, painful breaths. She coughed. Her throat hurt like hell, the pain making her eyes water.

  Tamerah blinked. Caeron was shouting, his sword pointed at Rhys, but she couldn’t decipher his words through the blood rushing in her ears. With a roar of her own, she scrambled to her feet and stepped between the two men.

  “No!” She gripped the sword’s blade with both hands, uncaring of the slashes the sharp edges opened in her palms. “Leave him be. I’ll kill you, I swear.”

  Caeron’s eyes widened and he lowered the sword. She turned to Rhys as he folded to his knees, and she went down with him. He was silent, the screams trapped inside him.

  “Rhys.” She clasped his hands, but as the first time, he didn’t respond in any way. “Don’t give up.” Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision. There was so much pain in his face, in the rigidness of his body. Even in those black, soulless eyes.

  “Please. Come back to me.” She caressed his face, leaving behind streaks of her own blood as she ran her fingertips over the corners of his eyes, down his cheeks, and over his lips. “You can’t go. I haven’t killed you yet.” A sob squeezed her chest, and she closed her eyes. “You have to come back so I can fulfill my promise, at least.”

  Another roar cut through the air, worse than all the others. Tamerah opened her eyes, terrified, as Rhys jerked and pinned her with his normal eyes.

  “Rhys!” She flung herself at him, clasping his shoulders and resting her forehead against his. “Rhys.” She didn’t seem to have any other words, but she didn’t care. He enfolded her in his arms and she hugged him, shaking.

  “Tarani.” His voice was scraped raw. “What happened?”

  “What the fuck, man? You tried to kill Tamerah!” Caeron’s accusation echoed through the empty corridor in terrifying waves.

  Rhys jerked. “What?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Tamerah rested her tired head on his shoulder. “You’re back.” That was all that mattered to her.

  “The fuck it doesn’t matter!” Caeron’s words vibrated with anger. “What, in the name of everything unholy, was that? You pulled some kind of berserker shit on us, man. Seriously, what the fuck?”

  “It happened again?” Rhys asked and Tamerah nodded.

  “Again?” Caeron bellowed. “This has happened before?”

  Tamerah turned her eyes to him. “Shut up, Caeron. You’re not helping.” She touched Rhys’s jaw, wanting to ease his pain. “We’ll figure this out.”

  Rhys bowed his head, then frowned. “You’re bleeding. Are you hurt?” He examined the cuts in her hands. “I did this?” Horror filled his eyes.

  “Caeron’s sword did.” Fury contorted Rhys’s face, and she grabbed him before he stood and murdered Caeron. “Rhys, no. It’s my fault. He threatened you with his sword, and I took the blade in my hands. I didn’t think.”

  “Why did you threaten me?” Rhys’s voice was made of hell’s fire.

  Caeron crossed his arms and pushed his shoulders back. “I was trying to save her life.”

  “From me?” Rhys recoiled, the distance separating them more than physical.

  “You were lost in the darkness again.” Tamerah sighed and crawled backwards until she could lean against the wall. She bent her legs and braced her hands on her knees. “But this time, when I touched you…” She stared at the blood in her hands. How could she say this? No hiding the truth from him, Tamerah. You promised. “You gripped my neck and lifted me off the floor. Caeron pushed you and you let me go. He unsheathed his sword because he didn’t know what was happening.”

  “You’re freaking insane.” Caeron threw the words at her, his voice sharp and angry. “A dullahan’s sword will cut through almost anything. Demon or not, you could have lost your hands. And you,” he pointed at Rhys. “Why did you try to kill her? What the fuck is going on?”

  Rhys was silent as death.

  “He didn’t try to kill me. It wasn’t him.” She didn’t know how much she could say to Caeron. His anger was ticking her off, but she bit her tongue. It was Rhys’s secret, and she wasn’t going to betray his trust.

  “We need to go,” Rhys finally said and got to his feet, clutching the crumpled parchment. He put it back in the box, closed it and tucked it on his coat’s pocket.

  “You don’t think I’m letting this go, do you?” Caeron stepped forward, blocking their way out. “We’re not going anywhere until you give me some damn good explanation.”

  Tamerah stood. “Caeron,” she snarled.

  “He’s right.” Rhys shoved his hands in his pockets and faced Caeron, his gaze unwavering. “I was in the Abyss.”

  Caeron’s eyes widened, his mouth hanging open.

  The Abyss. Tamerah shuddered. She didn’t know exactly what it was, but what happened to Rhys each time he was there...We need to find a way to keep him out of there.

  “I’ve been there more than once.” Rhys closed his eyes.

  Caeron snapped his mouth shut, his lips compressing to a thin line.

  “I don’t know why this is happening. And I don’t give a flying fuck about what happens to me. Hell,” Rhys’s face contorted in a savage smile, made even more grotesque by the blood staining his skin, “I deserve anything that happens to me. Probably worse. But if I don’t find a way to keep it together, the darkness from the Abyss will be unleashed into this world, and I can’t let it happen.”

  “What? No, no, no. You’re not going to pull a ‘we need to save the world’ on me, are you?” At Rhys’s silence, Caeron scratched the back of his neck. “Rhys, you can’t be serious.”

  “Let’s go, and then I’ll explain everything.”

  Caeron let out a string of curses. “Fine. I know I’m going to regret this, but fine.” He turned and started walking. Rhys followed, without so much as a glance in Tamerah’s direction.

  Her chest was still hurting. Her hands also hurt, the slashes in her palms burning as she clenched her fists. Blood drops fell to the floor as Tamerah stood still, her heart bleeding as well.

  Something has changed.

  She could feel it in her bones. He didn’t want her near anymore.

  Tamerah forced her feet to move. Caeron and Rhys were outside the castle’s door, scanning the surrounding fields. She waited for Rhys to say something, anything. Talk to me, Rhys.

  “Let’s go to my house,” Caeron said, starting down the stone path. “It’s as safe as it gets.”

  As Rhys took his first step, she lunged and grabbed his arm. He stopped but didn’t face her, so she walked around him and stood in his way. His face was a mask of stone, the unforgiving lines bracketing his mouth and eyes accentuated by her dried blood.

  She wanted to hit him, to yell at him, to do something to make him talk to her, say what was wrong. She wouldn’t cave first, though. She hadn’t done anything to deserve his silence. At least, I don’t think I did.

  You’re a demon, Tamerah. May
be that’s why he wants to get rid of you. The thought made her want to vomit. No. It must be the damn parchment. What the hell could it say to make Rhys shut her down?

  “C’mon, move your asses!” Caeron’s voice drifted to them. “I don’t want to wait for those fuckers to come back.”

  Rhys tried to sidestep her, but Tamerah blocked him, unwilling to let him go so easily. After a heartbeat, he lowered his eyes.

  “Why are you avoiding me?” She put her hands on her hips. “I have a right to know.”

  His gaze snapped back to hers and he lifted his hand as if to touch her face, but let it fall back. He bowed his head, hiding from her again.

  He can’t even touch me anymore.

  “And if you want me to go away, you’ll have to actually tell me to get lost, Rhys.” She took a step forward. “I won’t go without a fight.”

  “You have blood all over you.” He spoke so quietly, she almost couldn’t understand his words. “Your hands are wounded and you have bruises on your neck.”

  She frowned. “I’ll clean up in Caeron’s home. The cuts and bruises will heal. What does it—”

  “You cut yourself because of me,” he growled, balling his hands into white-knuckled fists. “I put those bruises there!”

  Oh. “Rhys, it doesn’t—”

  “No. Don’t tell me it doesn’t matter. It does. I can see in your skin what I’ve done. What a monster I am.” He took a step back, his gaze stubbornly on the ground. “I’ve hurt you, Tarani. Fuck me to hell and beyond, I fucking hurt you!”

  “It wasn’t you!” Why couldn’t he see it? “Get it into your thick skull—it was the darkness, not you!”

  “Every second you’re near me, you’re in danger. I won’t risk hurting you again.” He brushed past her, jostling her out of the way. “I’ll take you to Tarmanagh, then I’ll think of some place safe where I can leave you.”

  Stubborn man.

  His long strides ate the stone path, taking him fast away from her. Tired of being left behind, of being ignored, she ran after him and jumped at his back, as she’d done the previous night.