Fallen Ashes: Fated & Forbidden

by T. F. Walsh

  A gnarly branch pierced the fog below them.

  His body crashed through the tops of the trees, wood snapping. Hair ripped out from the side of his head. Clothes torn. Limbs twisted from the lashings. Foot caught on a bough. He kept falling, tumbling head over feet.

  Fallen’s arms ripped from around his chest. Her scream was a knife to his heart.

  He slapped the ground, sending a splash of mud skyward. His lungs emptied, and he gasped for air. Stinging pain lanced along his back and legs. The trees had softened the blow, yet he wasn’t sure he’d ever walk again.

  “Fallen, you okay?”

  His poisoned hand refused to respond and lay limp by his side. Vision blurry, he lay staring at the canopy of limbs knotted so tight overhead, he might as well be inside a cave. Except for the hole they’d created as they fell down, and through the gap, a furywing circled above.

  “Yeah, I’ll survive.” Fallen moaned.

  He pushed to his knees, noting the tears in his clothes, gashes across his arms and chest. The familiarity of the forest was like a hundred bee stings. Get jabbed, and the pain stayed for eternity.

  Trunks surrounded him, shaped in unnatural L-formations against a hazy, brown background. Whenever he’d patrolled these woods, he’d sworn something watched him. The nape of his neck prickled, and he glanced over his shoulder where the bare branches spiked into the sky. Dead silence. While the trees had been planted by magic, not a single leaf blossomed. Only twisted, deformed tree trunks existed, looking like they belonged on an alien planet; even the forest smell was non-existent—old shoes and dirty water stink assaulted his nostrils.

  They had to get moving and fast.

  Fallen stood several feet away covered in slush and bloody cuts. She wiped her top, but she wasted her time. Nothing stayed clean in the forest.

  With his good hand, he dug a hole in the soft soil and placed his lifeless hand into the pit. The energies were stronger here and already sizzled across his flesh.

  When he glanced up, he noted a brown, tawny owl flying through the woods a fair distance away. The bird moved in slow motion as if it was held by invisible strings. Wings wide, gliding, the owl’s alien eyes trained on him as it slid through the air, inch by inch. Blood magic from the Baciu woods affected normal animals and birds for some reason, slowing their time. That poor owl would grow old before it found its way back out of this place.

  Fallen stepped closer, drawing his attention. “Never want to see a furywing again. Nasty sons of bitches.” She wiped her hand over her face, smearing the blotches of dirt along her cheeks. She pulled a twig out of her knotted hair.

  Her gaze dipped to Saber’s hand in the ground. Her cheeks paled. She scurried closer, her boots splashing mud across her already caked pants. “Shit, are you okay?”

  “Furywing dart. It’ll heal soon enough. The puncture hurts, but better me than you. I’ll b—.” The trembling dirt beneath him stole his words. “They’re here.” He plucked his hand from the soil, the earlier numbness morphed into a swarm of pins and needles. At least, he had some feeling back. Close enough; he’d heal later if needed.

  Fallen’s gaze scanned left and right, her arms rigid by her side. “What’s here?”

  He surveyed the area and found the trees twisted into corkscrews several yards away. They surrounded the realm, and his stepfather’s workshop was in the opposite direction. He seized Fallen’s hand and pulled her into a sprint. “Crawlers can sense vibrations in the soil.”

  “Like you?”

  “Yes.” His voice had unintentionally deepened. He shared a common link to the crawlers and furywings because his stepfather had created them all. Saber wasn’t a being from the Creators, and while he wished that wasn’t the case, he had to work with the cards he’d been dealt. But at the heart of the problem, he would always be an outcast.

  Saber leaped over logs, foliage crunching underfoot. The terror in Fallen’s eyes shone, and she had every right to fear crawlers.

  He glanced behind. The vibrations shivering up his legs continued. “Faster.”

  The fog overhead allowed limited light to filter through. Up ahead were three trees intertwined in a distorted knot. So close to the crypt. “This way.”

  From the corner of his vision, he caught movement. He froze and pulled Fallen to his side as he scanned the woods. Amid all the brown to his right, the rise and fall of the earth undulated as if an enormous snake traveled underground.

  Saber balled up his panic and shoved the thought away. No time. He was a Guardian, a warrior, and had Fallen to protect.

  He squeezed her wrist and hauled her closer to the three mangled trees, then halted. Wrapping her into his arms, he pressed a hand to her mouth. “Shhh.” The mud covering them should conceal their scent.

  Fallen shivered against him. Dread hummed beneath his breastbone. Whatever happened, he’d keep her safe.

  In front of them, the land ascended toward the black entrance of his stepfather’s crypt. Magic kept the crawlers from passing through the door, and Saber knew where to find the spare key.

  When Fallen shuddered in his arms, he followed her gaze to something on his right. The land seesawed as if they were waves crossing an ocean.

  Movement stopped.

  A boulder-shaped head, matching Saber’s in size, jutted out of the ground. Made of soil, the crawler's mouth opened downward, armed with rock-crushing poles for teeth. No eyes or nose as the monster smelled the air through the receptors on the roof of its mouth. A spear-like tongue fluttered out, furry and yellow, the same one that elongated and entered a victim’s mouth. Tipped with a venomous blister, once it entered someone’s mouth, the poison released and dissolved that person’s innards in seconds.

  Fallen shifted, and a branch crunched underfoot.

  The creature’s head snapped in their direction and hissed.

  Saber fought the urge to run. He shoved Fallen away from the creature. “Go to the entrance in the hill. The key’s near the shrub.” Without waiting to see if she listened, he lunged onto the creature, his hands locked around its cold neck. Remove the head and the crawler died, but not an easy feat.

  When the crawler head-butted Saber, his vision wavered. He stepped backward. His heel had hit a tree root before he went sprawling to the forest floor.

  The creature’s drae-like body completely lifted out of the ground, claws lining its elbows and knees for burrowing.

  Saber dragged himself backward, his body trembling. The monster lunged, and the weight of a car crashed into Saber, coldness spreading across his body, his face. Mud smothered his mouth and nostrils.

  His fists flew out. Each hit connected to a solid mass that swallowed his hands, trapping them inside the crawler’s body.

  Breathing was impossible. Rising panic gripped his insides. That dizzy feeling overwhelmed him. Unbearable.

  A wriggly sensation slid along his cheek, dipping down his neck then up again. Crawler's tongue. Shivers overtook his body. His mind was darkening, failing, much like Fallen’s spluttering fire back in the church. But he couldn’t let her die. And no fucking way like this. Calling for the last remnants of strength, he strained his muscles and wrenched a fist free. His hand patted the ground and landed on a large rock.

  A tongue swept across his closed mouth, and a sickness rose from his gut. The dizziness from a lack of oxygen sharpened. He plowed the rock in his hand into the crawler's head, striking its skull over and over.

  The crawler flinched. Saber struck its muddy body again, then heaved his other hand free. He pulled himself backward, his face coming up for air. He gulped inhales into his empty lungs.

  The crawler's mouth opened. The creature wriggled up and over Saber’s legs, its tongue sticking out.

  “Fallen, flame this fucker.”

  Her footfalls were inches away. “You’re too close.”

  “Just do it.” With his still body trapped beneath the monster, Saber wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Shit. Cover your head,” F
allen called out.

  At first, only a choking sound erupted. He lowered the hand across his face as Fallen’s nose scrunched. “Not the best time to go flat.”

  She took another deep inhale, then released a golden flame. Saber wrapped his arms over his head.

  The crawler scrambled backward and dove into the mud.

  Saber climbed to his feet. “Too fuckin’ close.” He glanced over his shoulder at the forest floor awash with waves of crawlers rushing their way. “That’s so unfair.”

  Fallen’s eyes widened. She spun and ran toward the crypt. “I couldn’t find the key to the crypt.”

  He leaped after her, each step a struggle in the glue-like mud.

  The crypt’s entrance was their safety, and the shrub nearby concealed the extra key to get the door opened. No time to spare.

  With a new vigor, Saber shoved past the pain twisting his insides. Fallen was at the door, pulling on the handle. Despite the place being protected by magic, Balc had created a key for Saber if he ever needed a place to rest while guarding the woods during his time in the queen’s army. He threw himself past Fallen and onto the thorny bush planted inches from the entrance to the workshop.

  A grunting erupted, and a blaze heated his back. Over his shoulder, Fallen’s fire fanned out across five crawlers. The fireworks spluttered out as fast as they started.

  Crawlers continued to crawl out of the land. Bodies coated in dripped mud, their mouths gaping open in silent snarls.

  “Why are you taking so long?” Fallen’s voice was a siren.

  Where in the world was the key to the crypt? He pulled the entire shrub out, and there in the bottom of the hole, a silver glint caught his attention. He grabbed it and leapt to his feet.

  Just as the crawlers charged.

  17

  Terror brewed in Fallen’s gut as she tried to make sense of what was going on in front of her, leaving her voiceless. Her heart banged so loud, all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and hide in the surrounding, barren woods.

  A barrier of drae-like forms, made of mud, advanced. At least six-feet tall, the crawlers sailed across the ground with such ease, they might as well be flying. Their jaws snapped.

  Saber shoved something cold into Fallen’s hand and lunged at the oncoming monsters.

  She glanced down at a silver key fastened with a fire-colored stone. As if Saber had handed her a torch in the darkest of nights, determination surged within her. She spun and tried to fit the key into its hole, but she kept missing.

  Saber’s grunts pressed on her to assist him. She forged on. Creators, please help us.

  She jammed the damn key in and gave a hard twist. On her third try, the lock finally clicked. Her breaths raced as she rammed her shoulder into the door. The wood groaned, then opened. A puff of stale air pushed into her face. She stumbled inside.

  Right behind her, Saber crashed into her calves, sending her lurching forward. He scrambled on his butt deeper inside the room while deformed mud creatures crowded the entrance.”Shut the door. The magic will keep them out.”

  She rushed toward the creatures and slapped the door in their faces. Now a faint stream of light trickled in from the gaps around the frame. “Fuckin’ pieces of shit. The queen is demented to create those creatures.” Crawlers thudded into the door. The whole room around them shook.

  Saber pulled himself to his feet. “Let’s get this done.”

  The sudden fierceness of his voice reverberated through her bones. He turned away and vanished into blackness.

  Seconds later, a flickering of lights came to life. Candles sat inside niches in the walls. Blazes licked the stuffy air, illuminating thick cobwebs. Her attention honed in on Saber who hurried into an arched passageway across from the door. She chased after him and found him descending a circular staircase made of soil. The suffocating confinement had her lungs rasping with each inhale, not to mention the stink of moldiness. Beneath that lay the caramelized smell of magic.

  More candles sat in shelves dug out of the wall. The only way Saber could have lit them all was with enchantment. His stepfather must have set up an easy spell to activate them upon entry, akin to switching on a light in her apartment. After all, he was a Spell Forger.

  The thick air squeezed her lungs, and she calculated each step down. On either side of her, the brown walls were spiked with rocks.

  A tree root jutted out across her passage.

  Once she hit the landing, a light tingle ran across her inner wrist. She swiped the dirt off her skin and stared at the dragon mark from the Creators. Nothing changed in its appearance, but for some reason, she felt every line. Was the magic in this place somehow affecting the tattoo?

  Saber pushed open a door, and she followed him into a huge, underground room. At once, the intoxicating sizzle of magic lay across her flesh like another layer of skin.

  In this crypt, a Spell Forger brought creatures made of mud to life. Just like the ones that tried to kill them outside. As well as Saber.

  Without a word, he marched to the rear of the room lit up by candles and poked around on shelves made of beech roots. To Fallen’s left was a long, metal table. Stacked buckets filled the corner, and next to them stood a wooden bookshelf, brimming with old texts. She stepped closer, eager to discover what secrets they held. If only she had time to peruse them, but their time was precious.

  She had to find the apium crystal to defeat Noah.

  Hurrying to the opposite corner from Saber, she unscrewed the lid of every jar, each filled with powders she didn’t recognize, and inspected glass vials filled with traces of colored liquid.

  She glanced at Saber who hunched over a shelf, his brow furrowed. A line of blood ran down his arm from beneath his sleeve, merging into the mud caking his skin.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “Do you want me to look at your wounds?”

  “I’m good. Just want to get this done.”

  Saber had been created out of clay in this crypt. So returning must be hard for him. Fallen couldn’t even begin to image how he dealt it.

  Each time Fallen had visited her mother’s grave in the woods, her insides were raw, strung dry from the heartache. Tears didn’t always flow. The pain always felt as if a feaster was eating her heart straight out of her chest. Was that how Saber felt?

  Her mind whirred in a tight circle. Thoughts beat with the reminder that her life was out of control. Noah had discovered what she was, and he’d never stop hunting her. The Creators and their insistence of finding a soul mate. How could she be with someone else after her time with Saber? Her stomach fluttered whenever he accidentally touched her.

  Aside from her mother, Saber was the only other person who didn’t have a problem with her being a dazmeu. He accepted her just as she was. And even though the Creators hadn’t specified that the mark would react in any way to her mate, the dragon was a clue, and she yearned for her mark to glow like the sun in Saber’s presence. To make it clear he was the one, but she was just fooling herself because why would the Creators give her a dragon tattoo to represent him? He was an Ash. Her chest tightened.

  Her wrist still buzzed, and she didn’t understand why.

  Across the room, Saber crouched, his legs covered in mud. His back was curved, and his head tilted down.

  “Saber, what’d you find?” She trudged closer across the weird mud on the ground that was almost hardened, yet was cushiony beneath her boots.

  He hadn’t moved, so she laid a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

  At first, the silence was his only response. Fallen should have let him be alone to deal with the demons of his past, but seeing him distraught burned through her.

  Her mouth opened with words of reassurance. They disappeared when Saber pushed a small object back onto the shelf and stood. He walked away, and her gaze fell to a colored photograph. Saber between his stepfather and a white-haired female, probably his stepmother. Their smiles were contagious, and Fallen’s lips lifted at the happiness in their eyes
. She only owned a few photos of her mom, and without fail, she cried each time she pulled them out. The memories were scorched on her mind for eternity.

  Saber cleared his throat. “The queen may even pardon me once my stepfather reveals who’s the real danger in the court. If the Creators are kind, my stepfather might find a way to eliminate the message inside me.” His smile was weak and painful to watch.

  The consequences of his suggestion were deadly. Removing an Ash’s message was near impossible and could wipe him out of existence. If, by some miracle, his stepfather could succeed, then would Saber turn back to clay and ash? If the procedure were safe, surely the stepfather would have tried it years ago.

  Saber was fooling himself, and she couldn’t bring herself to say the words out loud. She picked up the photo and laid it on his hand. “Don’t leave this behind. Take the image with you.”

  She held onto his hand. Brown splattered his cheeks and brow. For the first time since she met him, his hard mask had lowered; no arrogance, or strong guy persona. Agony burned behind his gaze. He wasn’t a fool. He had to know his chances of returning to normality in the kingdom were close to zero. Or was that smidgen of hope what made him get up in the morning to keep going?

  She squeezed his hand. “No matter what happens, I’m here for you. We’ll defeat Noah, then we can work together to find our soul mates.” That earned her a cocked brow. “And I promise I’ll do what I can to help you and your family.” Maybe Saber’s life mate was in the realm? But what about hers?

  She shoved that thought away because the notion of him with someone else only brought a swirl of confusion she wasn’t ready to face.

  Saber nodded, and he slid the Polaroid between two books on the shelf. “I’ll be back.” His hands cupped the sides of her face.

  Her throat thickened as she stared into his distant eyes. Saber and her stuck in the middle of the ocean without life vests, and time was running out.

  “You are amazing, and tha—.” He froze, his gaze jerking to something behind her. “Can you feel that?”

  Her frazzled nerves jumped. She listened past the drumming pulse in her ears. “I don’t—” The ground moved. “What is that?” She hurried to the wall and placed a flat palm against the cold mud. Vibrations were coming from within.