Although he nodded in agreement, a cloud of unease drifted over him. He’d made a new enemy today and being the son of the king, he’d infected his people with the possibility of a plague that could last generations to come. Even though they were not great in numbers, the wraiths were not a foe to take lightly.
Fate plodded ever silently behind them. He’d glanced back several times along the way, noting her slumped shoulders and lowered chin. He yearned to speak with her, to question her about her worries, but with Deme there and already suspicious of his mixed feelings for the shade, he resisted.
“There they are,” Deme whispered suddenly, reverence coloring her voice.
He looked up, breathing a sigh of relief and feeling his shoulders relax for the first time in days as he recognized the telltale landmarks of home. Two large obsidian rocks stood stoic against the barren landscape, monoliths designed to guide demons to a secret sanctuary.
With Deme limping by his side, he led Fate toward the hidden kingdom, wondering if it was a wise decision. The city had been kept secret from the shades for almost a century. Certainly, a shade had somehow discovered the demons’ lair, invaded it, and stolen the scroll, but Kane was intentionally inviting one in.
The elders are not going to be pleased.
With a furrowed brow he looked back, Fate cuddled Ick in her arms like a baby. His stomach twisted into a knot. Would his people be able to see beyond what she was?
Kane had seen the good in her. He hoped they could too.
Ick nuzzled the slope of Fate’s jaw and gave her an encouraging lick, but nothing erased the emotions threatening to consume her already fractured soul. Confusion and misery pulled her in opposing directions like a tug of war. Where did she belong? Being imprisoned within the sentient storm barricading the wraith city, she was forced to face her greatest fears and sorrows—and didn’t know what to do with them.
If only she could remember what happened. How she got here. Kane mentioned she’d been damned to this place, but by whom? And why would they do such a thing?
Drawn from her thoughts by Kane’s gentle voice, an entirely new fear emerged. “We’re here…the demon city.” He stood between two colossal stones and then turned, grinning shyly at Fate, “Welcome to my home,” he said as he waved his free arm over the empty setting.
“It’s…lovely.” Her eyes panned the barren landscape, frowning as she searched for evidence of his proclamation.
He chuckled and proceeded to pound his right hoof against the ground three times, resonating with a metallic echo upon each strike.
“Aperio,” he uttered and immediately a deep grinding thundered beneath their feet. The red sands of the desert sifted downward as a large, metal ramp lowered itself before them. Once disguised as simply solid ground, it soon unveiled itself as the entrance to an underground world.
As she took slow steps into the belly of an even deeper netherworld, Fate felt the stirrings of apprehension.
“Child…my child…come home,” the maternal voice whispered to her thoughts.
An ache tore through her chest as she gazed longingly at the apocalyptic setting. Almost as strong as the hunger, the call of her dark mother pleaded for her to find her way home.
“Fate?” Kane’s deep voice called to her, a guarded concern laced within.
She pushed the dark yearning away and followed him into the pit, the large metal door rising like a drawbridge behind her. She hoped she wouldn’t regret trusting in the demon.
Ick trembled in her arms.
“It’s okay, Ick,” she soothed, stroking the downy fur atop his head.
Lit torches adorned either side of the rocky tunnel. An eerie flicker danced along the walls, wavering with every movement and exhaled breath. They moved through the passageway in silence, descending further into the depths of the earth with each step. As it wound around several corners, following a maze-like path, Fate noticed a light emerging in the distance.
A thick, steel door lay ahead with a small, rectangular window allowing a single beam of light to slice through the dimness. Baritone voices emanated from the other side, echoing throughout the cavern.
Fate suddenly paused.
“Kane?” she whispered. He stopped and turned to face her, his hulking body perilously close to hers. His warmth slid over her, caressed her. She swallowed, then asked, “Are they going to hurt me?”
“No, Fate, I won’t let them.”
“How can you be sure?”
He answered humbly, “Because…I’m their leader.”
She averted her eyes from his. She hadn’t realized he was of such importance. Of course, she’d heard Deme refer to him as sire, but Fate hadn’t paid much attention to the allusion at the time. He seemed so…young, not much older than herself. She had no idea how demons aged, but he certainly didn’t appear old enough to be a ruler.
Now at the steel gateway, Kane pounded on it, hard with his fist. Fate narrowed the space between them, fearful of what lie beyond the heavy door.
Again, she found herself staring at his back. The low amber lights cast soft shadows across his physique, she found herself fixated on his strength and the way his muscles flexed beneath his dark skin.
She resisted reaching out and touching his long blue hair as it swung casually at his waistline. Her eyes wandered over his every curve, examining his poise, his allure—she closed her eyes and shook her head.
What are you thinking?
He was a demon. She, a shade. The two races had a turbulent past. A dark, embedded hatred for one another. He probably didn’t even see her as an equal, let alone a love interest.
Deme groaned, falling against his shoulder. Stabilizing her, he hammered the door harder, shouting, “Open up, it’s Kane.”
The metal hinges groaned in protest as the door was slowly pulled open. Two heavily armed demons stood guard on either side of the entrance. Fate trailed closely behind Kane, knowing that the moment they saw her, there was going to be trouble.
“Sire,” a demon guard exclaimed. “What happened?”
“The three of us were attacked by sphinxes,” Kane answered with veiled apprehension, delivering Deme into the guard’s waiting arms.
“Three?” the guard repeated with obvious confusion.
Kane stepped wide to the left and exposed Fate standing nervously behind him. Instantly, the guard’s upper lip curled back, rendering his pointed fangs. He raised his staff, a sharp blade adorning the tip, and lowered into a fighting stance.
“Shade!” he snarled, spittle spraying from his black lips.
Immediately alerted, the other guard brandished his weapon, his face wound tight with hatred. Kane elevated his hands, attempting to calm the two warriors.
“It’s okay, she’s with me.”
Fate lowered her eyes in submission, holding tight to poor, little Ick who was endeavoring to burrow into her chest.
“But sire…I don’t understand!” one guard sputtered, bewilderment filling his green eyes.
A crowd of demons had begun to amass, each gasping as they laid eyes upon their sworn enemy.
Kane glanced calmly between the two guards, then quietly commanded, “Please take Deme to Shaman Goratus.”
They reluctantly complied and carefully led the wounded tracker away, both eyeing Fate with quiet contempt.
“Kane,” an elderly male demon moved out of the gathering crowd and asked, “What is the meaning of this?”
Fate’s eyes darted amongst the angry and confused faces of the mob. It took all her willpower not to turn and run back into the tunnels from which they came.
Kane raised his hands and stated, “My people, please, calm yourselves.”
A respective hush blanketed the crowd. Kane swung his head in Fate’s direction, his sapphire gaze falling upon her. After casting a look of remorse, he shifted his attention to the throng of demons before him.
His Baritone voice boomed, echoing throughout the cavern with his announcement, “I bring you…the Dev
il’s heir!”
Prisoner
Marble pillars swirling with steely veins stood stoic in every corner of the great entrance. Though they’d obviously seen a great deal of wear, hairline fractures running throughout their polished torsos, the ivory columns loomed like colossal soldiers.
A dozen arched doorways led from the grand hall, each enlightened with metallic torches. Every hallway boasted long, red runners hemmed with golden thread. Twelve ten-foot statues guarded the exits, each bearing a different weapon or symbol. Beautiful and intricate in detail, Fate gazed at the solid sentinels, then realized something odd.
The statues—they’re of humans.
Overhead, an elaborately painted ceiling, gilded with gold and silver trim, depicted a war scenario where humans had triumphed over forces of evil. Fate had to take a second look at the artwork. She thought it strange that demons would have anything remotely human within their midst.
With the eyes of a hundred demons fastened on her, each blazing with evident hatred, Fate lowered her head and stayed close to Kane as he walked confidently into the center of the room.
Whispers and gasps reverberated off the walls, some even snickered and jeered.
“Friends, please, if you will listen to me,” Kane began, vying for attention over the discontented mumblings. “I understand you’re upset, but please, this is no ordinary shade.”
A large black demon stepped forward, his nostrils flaring and fists clenched tight. “How do you know for sure? How do you know it isn’t another of Malus’s traps?”
Kane sighed deeply, visibly pooling his thoughts before explaining. “I know because she was born right before my eyes—alone.”
A united gasp embraced the room. Several demons brought their hands to their mouth in surprise.
Fate fought the urge to question Kane regarding his statement. What did that mean? Why was she so special for having been born alone? Why was she the Devil’s heir—and did she want to be?
The crowd of demons, their sight fixated on her, shared a perplexed expression. Disgust and fascination.
The Devil? Fate contemplated. Is that who’s been calling to me? Is that where I belong?
Kane turned to her, apprehension nestled behind his soft, blue eyes. Gently taking her by the arm, he led her through the horde of restless demons and down a hall to the right.
Away from the strain of a hundred glares, she forced herself to breathe again. While she should have been more concerned for her safety, she was currently too enraptured by the way Kane’s large, black hand felt wrapped around the back of her arm. Ripples of heat extended from him. Every molecule he touched exploded with light. Like bubbles fluttering over her undead skin. A pleasant shiver traversed the small of her back. She longed to turn to him and...
“I apologize,” he started quietly, stirring her back to reality. “My people have been through much sorrow because of the shades.”
As though he suddenly realized he was touching her, he pulled his hand away as if burned. A dull pain wound around her heart. She was simply fooling herself.
“I understand,” she responded, keeping her eyes on the floor.
Red doors lined the hallway, each decorated with ornate golden handles. After passing numerous doors, they finally paused at one on the right.
“Here is your room,” Kane grasped the knob and opened the door for her. “I…hope it’s to your liking.”
Upon entering, Fate couldn’t help but smile. A theme of burgundy and gold played about the room. An enormous four-poster bed dominated the space, crimson sheers draped around it like long flowing ribbons, matching ties binding them to four vertical columns. A large gilded mirror lay perched atop an antique mahogany dresser. Burrowed in the far corner yawned a large fireplace set in onyx marble, just begging to be fed with fire and basked before.
“It’s lovely!” Fate exclaimed, overwhelmed with the luxury.
A rosy hue invaded the dark demon’s cheeks and he immediately turned to leave, but paused with his hand on the doorknob. Without facing her, his eyes trained on the floor, he stated timidly, “If you need anything, just ask me…I’m in the room across the hall.”
“Thank you,” she replied quietly, hoping for his gaze to meet her own as he slowly closed the door.
Left to her thoughts, Fate sauntered to the bed and slid her body over the width of the mattress. The supple burgundy comforter swaddled her in its silken embrace and for the first time since she’d arrived in Dark World, she closed her eyes and dreamt of home.
Kane knocked on the door, turned the knob and entered. He knew all were welcome in this particular home—that being the humble dwelling of the demon enchanter, Elder Ozen. Jars of herbs, elixirs and rare magical creature bits filled every nook and cranny of the small chamber. Unnamable odors, courtesy of potions bubbling within glass flasks, wafted from the next room.
An eerie play of shadows and candlelight cast undulating images upon the fractured walls. A quick sweep of the cracking structure and slouching ceilings left Kane wondering how much longer the palace would hold up. They’d never intended on living in an underground kingdom, but after the shades took over, it was the only place they could survive.
“Would you like some fungus tea, your highness?” Elder Ozen’s ancient voice called from the adjoining room, somehow knowing it was Kane who’d entered.
“Yes, please,” Kane replied, cringing at the reference to royalty.
The old demon shuffled in from the next room, two silver mugs fashioned from steel grasped within his blue-black hands. He handed Kane his tea and smiled kindly at the young prince, his skin crinkling around his eyes and mouth like cracks in dry sand.
The elder groaned, taking a seat across from Kane. He brought his cup to his mouth, pursed his old lips and blew a line of breath across the top. Tendrils of steam wafted from the rim and, for a moment, Kane was certain he’d seen the vapor whirl and spin as though dancing.
Kane observed the old man with fondness. The elderly demon had taken him in after his father was killed. While the enchanter provided him with a good home, knowledge and kindness, the hole that remained in his heart was unfathomable.
His mother was another story.
In many ways, I’m just an orphan, he thought forlornly.
“How can you be certain she’s the true heir?” Elder Ozen queried, stirring Kane from his bitter thoughts.
Word travels fast, Kane mused, thinking how he’d only announced Fate’s existence less than an hour before.
Kane exhaled and stared up at the ceiling of his mentor’s home and slowly shook his head. “She was born alone and her arrival mirrors what the scroll has foretold. The sacrificial ceremony on the Surface calls for three, but if the ritual has been performed on only one human, the shade’s power is immense once they reach Dark World.”
“There have been others born alone,” the old demon pointed out.
Nodding, Kane had heard of this and wondered why the others were unfit to become the Queen’s vessel. Was Fate truly unique? Or was she just another killer spawn from an evil ritual?
The ancient demon sipped his tea, his dark, wrinkled skin folding at the temples, then inquired, “Why didn’t you kill her? If she is the Devil’s successor, she poses a great risk to our entire existence.”
He closed his eyes and hoped his conflicted feelings for the shade were not transparent. “I…tried. I just…couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t?” Elder Ozen arched a curious brow.
“I saw something in her…something good.”
Seated across from the young prince, the old demon drew his robes tighter around him like a chill had crept into the room. After eyeing Kane seriously, he responded, “Shades are born soulless, damned to this world by the Devil’s disciples. They lose all that was good in them when they descend.”
Kane knew the lore well. “All I know is that she’s different, I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”
Fate awoke with Ick snuggled deep within the crook o
f her neck. Sad for only a moment that she could not recall her dreams, she giggled when Ick relinquished a tiny snore and twitched as if chasing a reluctant meal.
She glanced around her new abode, and while the room oozed with lavishness, she couldn’t help but notice the cracking walls and ceiling.
After stretching and swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she noticed a pile of clothing folded neatly at the end of the mattress. Perplexed, she stood and inspected the outfit. Ick, now wide awake and fully rejuvenated, jumped up and down on the bed while Fate removed Deme’s cloak and donned a black suede skirt and top. She paused to gaze at her reflection in a full-length, gold-trimmed mirror leaning against the far wall. Inspecting the new wardrobe, she wondered who’d slipped into the room while she was sleeping to leave it for her.
The top fit like a second skin while the short sarong hugged her hips perfectly. She couldn’t imagine how they had clothes that would fit her so flawlessly considering how much bigger the demons were compared to her.
As she ran her hands over the skirt, the smoothness of the material slick beneath her palms, a flash of recognition moved through her. A memory stepped out from the shadows and into a faint light. She remembered trying on clothes, a skirt in particular. The setting was so…different. A warm bedroom, rich with color. Daylight streaming through glass.
The sun.
A pang resonated in her heart. How she missed the cascade of heat offered to her by earth’s closest star.
She took a step closer to the mirror and scanned her reflection from top to bottom. Long silver hair cascaded over her shoulders, a soft curl bobbing at the ends. Icy, glowing eyes stared back at her as though she were a stranger.
Still sporting the black mask, she pulled it off to further inspect herself. Upon parting her full, black lips and revealing a set of sharp fangs set amongst rows of perfect pearl teeth, Fate caressed her pale cheek with the back of her hand and whispered, “What have I become?”
Suddenly squealing, Ick scampered off the far side of the bed and hid.
Dark World (Book I in the Dark World Trilogy) Page 10
