And, of course, she remembered Rory Dean. The one boy she’d dreamed of dating. Her crush. How he’d seemed so perfect. So worth it.
Fury blended with regret. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have let him lure her into the middle of nowhere? How could he do what he did?
“So now you know,” he said quietly.
“Know what?” Her voice quavered.
“Why I have to get back to the Surface.”
She frowned, still not understanding.
“Revenge,” he stated with an evil glint in his eye.
“On the guy who did this? But, he’d be long gone. It’s been over a century since…”
“No,” he interrupted, shaking his head vehemently. “The ritual promises immortality.”
“Immortality?” Fate’s head began to spin, her skin crawling with disbelief.
His eyes sparkled with frightening vengeance and she took a step back.
Through sharp, clenched teeth, he uttered, “He must pay. He must die.”
“Who?” Her voice hovered above a whisper.
His eyes narrowed with ferocious hate.
“Blake Dean.”
Truth
It felt like they’d been flying for hours, circling several plots of land as though the beast was screening each spot for signs of danger.
While Kane’s fear of the creature eating him had subsided, he still wondered what its intentions were. Where had it come from? Why did it save him from Ba’al?
Finally, they descended, the peaks of Shard Mountain rising up from the arid sands.
Here again? Kane mused. This was where he’d first seen Fate fall from the sky, wrapped in her silken black cocoon. A twinge of regret pulled at him. He’d done so many things wrong since then. He never should have hurt her. Never should have let her go.
The ground came quickly as the beast lowered Kane gently to the earth. His hooves crunched against the dry sands. The metallic scent of Ba’al’s rain was replaced with the familiar aroma of smoke, courtesy of the surrounding volcanic mountains.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Kane turned to greet his savior. Surprise washed over him when his gaze met with an old friend. A very old friend.
“Arcanum!” Kane gasped, a confused frown morphing into a smile.
The great dragon bowed his head, relinquishing a breathy snort that could have been mistaken for a chuckle.
“But how? What?” sputtered Kane, unable to grasp how the creature had gotten free from the underground palace, let alone found and rescued him.
Arcanum lowered his massive body into a laying position, copper and gold scales shimmering. The great bridge below his brow rose and his lips curled gently back, as though returning a smile.
Kane scanned the length of the mighty dragon, its large body spanning almost thirty feet before him. As his membranous copper wings tucked neatly into its side, Kane marveled at the grace of the ancient goliath.
Kane patted the dragon’s muzzle, still perplexed at how he’d come so far from home.
Arcanum, he thought, reminiscing. The king’s faithful mount. His father had named him only days before his untimely death, before that, he’d simply called him Dragon. Why his father felt the need to name him at that moment had always left an unsettled mark. Was there a covert message encoded within the dragon’s name? Did his father know of Malus’s evil plan? Did he know about the uprising of the shades days before it happened? All questions Kane might never know the answer to. All answers his father had taken to the grave.
His father’s death. Kane’s body tensed with the memory of that day. His father’s mutilated remains were discovered in the royal stables, splayed before the dragon’s pen, his chest cavity split apart. His soul—gone.
Kane shuddered. How had things gone so terribly wrong? The demons once had it all: power, magic, and most importantly, control. Then, in one terrible moment, it was all gone. Stolen. Taken by the weakest creatures in Dark World: the humans. Of course, they were no longer weak, timid creatures after the apocalypse. They were strong, cunning, and riddled with dark magic.
Releasing a frustrated exhale, Kane turned his eye to the bowing dragon before him. A smile tugged at his lips as he considered just how lucky he was that the dragon happened upon him in his hour of need.
Movement near Arcanum’s shoulders caught his eye. A figure came into focus, climbing down from his back. As she reached the ground, her petite, ivory hooves touched the sands of Dark World for the first time.
Kane wasn’t sure whether he should be profoundly happy or furious.
“Hi Daddy,” she waggled her fingers, giving him an uncertain smile.
He practically ran to her, taking her into his arms, whispering, “Thank you, Ever, thank you!”
The dragon’s belly rose, dragging in a long breath, releasing with a deep snore. Her back rested against the crook of his neck, Ever winced as a twinge of guilt filtered through her.
Poor old dragon, she thought, this may have been too much for him.
Dragons only lived three hundred years at best, and Arcanum was well over that. Well, at least his body was. His soul was even older.
She gave a quick glance to her father seated across from her, sharpening his already sharp sword. Age had found its way to his handsome face lately. How she wished she could help. What did he need? Was there anything that could be done?
He needs to find the scrolls, she thought decidedly. And Fate.
One didn’t seem any easier to obtain than the other. Dark World was a big place, it could take months—years—to find the shade. Not to mention, she might not want to come back to Legion. Considering how much her father had upset Fate, locating the scrolls might be an easier quest to embark upon after all.
From the legends she’d learned of the scrolls, they were spread from one end of Dark World to the other. Hidden within the cities of the five races—one in a secret location. With three missing from their guardian cities, the most logical thing to do was locate the other three. Wasn’t it?
Ever took in a steadying breath. “Father,” she began, catching his attention. “Why don’t we fly to Necrosia and see about obtaining their scroll? If we explain to them about the thefts and that we wish to keep their scroll safe, maybe…” her voice trailed off with a shrug of her shoulders, glancing to the north where the great wall snaked through the land, enclosing Necrosia.
He exhaled sharply, pondering her idea. Nodding, he responded, “Yes. But first, we will fly back to Legion.”
“Legion? Why?”
His eyes settled on her. “To drop you off.”
She stood, hands clenched. “No! I’m not going back! I’m going with you—to help you!”
He shook his head, calm and steadfast. “Ever, you have to understand, please, it’s not safe for you out here.” His blue eyes pleaded with her.
“I don’t care,” she insisted, her lower lip threatening to tremble, “I won’t be a prisoner anymore.”
He stood and walked to her, setting his large hands on her shoulders. “If your grandmother ever found out about you,” he started, “Ever, you can’t imagine the horrible things she could do to you. And to all of us.”
She pulled away, turning her back to him. A defiant tear slid from her eye and she quickly whisked it away.
“I know it’s not fair,” he said, his voice sad. “Do you think this is the way I wanted my only daughter to live? In hiding? Don’t you think I want to show my beautiful girl to the world?”
A lump rose in her throat, wrapping her arms around herself.
He paused, taking a few deep breaths, then continued, “Ever, she will take over you. Do you understand? She’ll possess your body—push your soul aside, putting your essence to sleep for eternity. You won’t…exist. Is that what you want? Don’t you care?”
Ever spun around. “Of course I care!” she cried. “But I can’t live like a hostage anymore! Why does Malus get to be free when she’s the one who’s done wrong? We should face
her, father, bring her down!”
“Don’t you think I know this?” he growled, his temper flaring. “She has ten thousand shades loyal to her, and I, I have five thousand demons who do not respect me because I’m not…” He stopped, choking on his words, then surrendered quietly, “…my father.”
Ever felt his pain, a dark aura of loss blanketed him. She’d never seen her father in this low light, his sorrow palpable. In that moment she understood. She knew why he’d tried to keep her existence a secret. Not just because he didn’t want Malus to have her, not just for her own safety, but for his own sanity. He couldn’t lose anyone else he loved. It would destroy what fragile fragments were left of him.
She let her warm, pale hand rest on her father’s ebony shoulder, her eyes shifting to the sleeping dragon beside her. How she wished she could tell her father this secret. Would it even help him? Or would it make his bitterness grow even more?
She couldn’t tell him anyways, she’d promised never to tell.
If only he knew the truth.
Magic
“We’ll rest here for the night,” Vale announced, setting his pack down.
Fate took in her surroundings, once again astonished at the beauty such a dark world could hold.
A field of pure white rocks lay before them, opalescent and shimmering, some stout and round while others towered.
“What is this place?” she inquired, a touch of awe dancing with her words.
“The Opal Meadows,” he responded. “Pretty, huh?”
She scoffed his description. Pretty didn’t do it justice, nor beautiful. Frankly, she wasn’t sure any label would suffice. It simply couldn’t be described with words.
Near the center of the field sat a circular array of the large opaque white stones. Obviously arranged by sentient hands, the rocks were formed into a pattern that reminded Fate of something she’d seen on the Surface.
Stonehenge?
She wandered closer, sliding a hand over the cool, milky rocks. It did indeed mirror the images she recalled of the monument.
Why would it be down here?
This place confused her more and more with each passing day. How could it harbor such beauty yet possess unimaginable horrors and barbarity? She shrugged, realizing that the Surface wasn’t very different. Up there, the world was filled with indescribable acts of violence, unspeakable sadness and injustice, but too, was lush with riveting splendor. This underworld was parallel to the land overhead, just different residents, animals, and setting.
Her thoughts drifted to her last moments on the Surface. Up until that time, her life had been full. Serene. Loved by family, friends—then ended with brutality, taken from her world because of selfishness and greed. Then here, she’d been attacked by mythical creatures, nearly destroyed by vindictive wraiths, and as far as she knew, was still being pursued by a tyrannical Devil-Queen.
Fate shook her head. Was nowhere safe? Did utopia exist? Heaven? If this place existed, was there another above the Surface? Somewhere kind and peaceful to call home?
“The necromancers use this place to pray,” Vale’s reverent voice broke through Fate’s thoughts.
“Pray?” Fate frowned. “To a god?” It seemed unlikely that the residents of Dark World would give homage to a Surface god. Or would they? She was intrigued.
He placed his hands onto the face of a large stone acting as a pillar for another set lengthwise overhead. Closing his eyes, he answered quietly, as though in a church, “They don’t pray to a god, they pray to energy.”
“Energy?”
“Yes, the force that creates the magic we use,” he explained with the patience of a sensei. “It’s like…” He searched for the word. “Chi.”
Fate remembered Chi. Asian power conjured from within by the use of chakras and sheer will. A cosmic energy, invisible, yet powerful. “Why would they need to pray for it? Isn’t it just there?” She held up her hands, pretending to hold a transparent ball of power.
He shook his head, glowing white eyes filled with a wisdom she hadn’t yet seen in him. “Not exactly, each of us in Dark World has a small amount of magic in us, but nothing like what we could have if we harnessed it properly.”
Small amount of magic! She marveled. Since she’d arrived, she’d seen more magic in five minutes than she’d seen on the Surface. It was preposterous to imagine anything stronger.
“So,” she started, trying to understand, “the necromancers, they are very powerful because they…pray?”
Vale chuckled. “Sort of, when you respect the energy as they do, you are rewarded with more.”
“Can everyone here do this or is it just the necromancers?”
“Everyone can,” he stated, “but they do appear to harness it better.”
“Why is that?” Fate asked settling onto one of the squatter ashen boulders.
He shrugged. “Don’t know for sure, but I suspect it’s because they are more spiritual.”
Another word she didn’t expect to have precedence here. “Spiritual?”
Pulling something from his pack and kneeling, Vale poured what looked like silver soil onto the ground. He then set several medium sized opal stones overtop the strange pile of dirt.
“Spiritual,” he began, taking two flint rocks and clacking them together over his creation, “means ‘consisting of spirit’. It doesn’t have anything to do with religion.”
She felt her shoulders sag. I guess that means I’m not spiritual at all. Being that she didn’t have her soul anymore, how should she be ‘consisting of spirit’ without a soul?
Shaking off her self-pity, she became fascinated with Vale banging the rocks together. Occasionally sparks would ignite, sail towards the target, but fizzle before it reached its destination.
Clack.
Spark.
Clack.
Spark.
Suddenly, one of the sparks flew into the middle of his circle of stones, landing directly onto the pile of silver dirt.
Ignition. Hot, white light exploded from the strange soil. Almost too bright to look at, the sun-like blaze ripped a hole of brightness through the dark backdrop.
“Magnesium,” Vale explained as he stood, then seating himself across from her. “Keeps most of the beasties away.”
Fate could do nothing but stare as the opal rocks shimmered with white light. She felt the urge to hold her hands out, above the unusual fire, as it was reminiscent of a campfire on the Surface. For a moment she even craved hot dogs and marshmallows.
“What are you thinking about?” Vale probed, searching her face.
“The Surface,” she admitted freely. “I was thinking about the time I went camping with my family.”
He nodded. “You’re lucky to remember so much.”
She gave him a quizzical look. “You don’t?”
Vale shook his head. “Nope, I remember the days leading up to my death, my sister, and vague details of what the Surface looks like, but that’s about it.”
“Why do you think that is? That I remember so much and you don’t?”
He shrugged. “Not sure, maybe because you’re female.”
“Female?” she repeated, but then remembered him telling her of the vast differences in abilities between male and female shades, hence why she was number one on Malus’s most wanted list.
It was odd that she didn’t appear to have any unique or super-impressive powers. There was that weird lightning ball she’d somehow manifested, then flattened Kane to the ground with it. And then she’d healed him, but other than that, she couldn’t take credit for anything cool.
“Who knows,” Vale said with an exhale, “maybe you’re just unique because of the prophecy.”
“What is this prophecy?”
He leaned back on his large slab of opal stone. “It’s the second page of the Devil’s Bible,” he stated matter-of-fact, then recited,
“There can be only one, upon the throne of blood.
A ruler amongst fiends, a leader over beasts
and sub-creatures.
Old will expire, new will succeed, but only one is meant to be, meant to reign, meant to rule.
The Devil’s heir.”
Fate pondered the quote, rolling the words around in her thoughts, then asked, “Why does it have to be a shade? Why couldn’t it be…a demon?” Her thoughts shifted to Ever, the biological heir to Malus’s throne. Fate made a note to seal her lips against speaking of the sweet princess, in case Vale couldn’t be trusted.
His brows lowered in consideration. “Yes, but it would have to be a female descendent of Malus, and since she doesn’t have any…” his voice trailed off.
“She can’t possess a male demon?”
“Yes and no,” he stated.
Fate gave him a confused look.
“The powers are incompatible. Unbalanced. Ying and Yang, if you will. The male body would recognize the foreign female spirit and there would be a fight for power inside the body,” he explained.
“Couldn’t a female soul fight as well?”
“Yes, I suppose,” he said with a half-hearted nod, “but because the body—the host—is familiar with the female essence, it doesn’t recognize it as a threat. The original soul is just…put to sleep, never knowing what is happening to the body.
“How do you know all of this?”
“My master,” Vale replied. “He’ll teach you all this, and more.”
Fate’s spirits lifted. It was nice to have a friend again. A momentary tug at her heart left her wondering about her other friends. The princess. Kane. Were they worried about her? Were they upset at her for leaving?
Fleetingly, she hoped they hadn’t tried to follow her. Guilt enveloped her. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so hasty. Maybe she should have let Kane’s cold remark slide. He’d spared her life, even saved it, when his instincts were obviously to destroy her.
Hopefully they’d just forget about her. Keep themselves from harm.
If only she could forget them.
The geysers were lessening in the distance, their waters retreating as they signaled the return of daytime.
Dark World (Book I in the Dark World Trilogy) Page 20
