Dominion of the Star (Descendants of the Fallen Book 1)

by Angelica Clyman

  “Wait!” She grabbed his arm again, pulling him towards the opening in the wall that led to the yard. “If we sit in the banyan, I’m sure I could help you.”

  Asher gave in, silently following her. It was a tight fit inside the rotted tree trunk, but Kayla pressed close to the perimeter, giving him room to sit. He reluctantly pulled off his poncho and the thin shirt he wore beneath, his eyes never leaving the familiar bark that surrounded him. Kayla gingerly removed his bloodied bandages to see the twisted, purple lines that were only interrupted by dark pools of skinless tears. Asher held on to the tree with his elevated left arm, allowing her to inspect his wound, his head bowed patiently.

  Kayla’s lungs never felt lighter as she breathed in the damp odor of the banyan’s heart. Her right hand slid down the warm wood, the tip of her Intercessor catching the bark and holding her still. When the palm of her left hand gently made contact with his side, she felt her shoulders pull inwards involuntarily before she experienced a stabbing pain in her hand. She drew back to see only bruises lightly marking his ribs and a few welts on her palm.

  They stared at each other for a long time, almost forgetting the injury in the glow of recognition they both felt here in this place. Asher let his head loll back, gazing up into the branches. “Thank you for not allowing me to let you disappear again. I’ve done this alone for so long. After Michael was gone, I led alone…but I led. It seems I guided death too; it always followed close behind. And then I just couldn’t let anyone get caught in this inevitable cycle any longer. So I left. And then no one had to die except for the ones I chose. But now there are barely more than three weeks before the next Eclipse, and if that’s all we have left, I want to live. I want to take the chance. I want to tell you everything I remember. I want to see Michael’s smile on your lips and Kiera’s tears in your eyes. I want it to be Steelryn and Serafin again, saving the world, or remembering it in the next one, if that’s what it has to come to. I want to help you fulfill your destiny, or your will. I want Za’in to see justice, but I know it can’t be my justice alone. Not anymore.”

  Kayla was still, watching the rising and falling of his chest as he spoke. The movement became slower and fuller, and then he was silent. When she looked to his smooth, sleeping face, she was certain she was witnessing a rare sight. She hesitated for a moment, then crawled out of the tree and sat among its roots, leaning against the trunk. Her heart was beating hard, and she closed her eyes. In her sudden and panicked need for comfort, she tried to conjure up Jeremy’s image, but she could only imagine his back. Kayla drew her knees up, resting heavily against them, and as her hair fell along her side, she could feel the sun touching her neck. She was certain that wherever Jeremy was, he was without this warmth. She suffered the sensation anyways, and the guilt that came with it.

  16

  Jeremy wished every star above him would burn out so that he could finally be alone in the darkness. The knowledge that some of the glowing points in the distance were just the ghosts of dead stars only made him close his eyes against everything that hung in the night sky. The light felt piercing and watchful, and he told himself that was why he was lying still in the sand.

  He couldn’t feel his body anymore. His last memory of sensation was experienced as heaviness, his form sinking halfway into the sand while he imagined his spine fusing with the center of the earth. The desert dust collected in his upturned palms, and he surrendered to the wind’s power to move his stiff fingertips. He remembered pain, but like everything else, it was gone. The only irritating reminder of existence was the constancy of the bright spots above his head.

  Jeremy was falling in and out of sleep, and although each malformed dream that carried him was the essence of horror, he didn’t mind. He knew his dreams weren’t his reality, and that was the only condition of his preference. Only one question remained. Am I dead? He was numb. He wasn’t sure if that meant he was cold. Am I dead? He could only begin to answer that question if he tried to remember how he came to be here, under those damned stars. His head dropped involuntarily to one side, as if it was compelled to shake against that notion. But still, it was movement, and that brought back a wave of pain. It was hard to distinguish if the hurt was physical or otherwise, but when it rose up in him, it was all-encompassing. He had to settle for it eventually subsiding into a dull ache that sharpened in spasms in concentrated locations.

  He tried to fight his awakening, but he realized he couldn’t forget the flash of white light and the tower coming down. He couldn’t forget what brought that light. Jeremy gasped for breath; his mouth and lungs felt clogged with sand. He remembered jumping from an open stairwell and falling hard against the dried-up seabed, unsure of which bones were left unbroken. Every electric bulb that Za’in had kept running was out, and the desert floor was littered with shattered concrete and twisted metal beams. Jeremy crawled towards the horizon on pulled joints and fractured bones, his blood mixing with the sand, leaving behind a trail of thick and gritty sludge. He had lost track of time, dozing every few yards, until he was on his feet again, falling to his knees between shaky steps. He didn’t know where he was going or why, only aware that he had to put some distance between himself and the destroyed compound before the sun rose. It wasn’t long before he collapsed, supine, to the welcoming ground of the wasteland.

  It was night again, and he still was here. He didn’t understand why he was alive, why he was no longer bleeding, and why he was certain he could now move any of his limbs, if he could only summon the desire. He couldn’t say that he was truly surprised. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened to him, even if this was the most extreme case. Regardless, he had never examined the phenomenon.

  Jeremy struggled to remember why he had crawled away. He did it without thinking, but there was still some motivation behind it. Za’in survived the fall; he didn’t even need the pain that crossed his chest to tell him that. Jeremy couldn’t return to him as an Arch, not now. He knew he had been used by Za’in, but he never felt like a puppet when he thought of the benefits his status allowed him. Even so, now all that would be waiting for him at the end of his servitude would be death. The only way to get back on top and ensure his best chance of survival would be to capture Kayla on his own, and deliver her to Za’in before the next Eclipse. Jeremy remembered when he was promised ownership of her, while he promised himself he would be standing that day, when the sky darkened again. The thought of the former oath only increased his awareness of the sand in his throat, while the latter lent him the strength he needed to draw in his elbows, plant the heels of his palms against the ground, and painfully sit up. He didn’t care anymore if the stars were shining. Let them go on burning. Soon they’d have no choice but to watch what fires he’d be setting, down below their gaze.

  *

  It was almost dawn when he found his way back to the compound, experiencing only mild surprise at how far away he had dragged himself in his injured state. There were few traces left of his flight, but it was easy to fall back into his own steps, his subconscious guiding him as if he was a sleepwalker. He could sense that Za’in had already left this place himself, and although he was certain that his former Lord couldn’t track him or speak to him through his mark, Jeremy knew that Za’in was most likely aware of his continued existence.

  He walked through the halls of the only undamaged building. Nothing he expected to find within the ruins tempted him enough to test his ability to survive by lingering anywhere near crumbling concrete or creaking beams. Out of old habit, he entered his room and stared at its emptiness for a while before he sat down on the bed. His hand reached for his pillow, and as he began to pull it towards him, he stopped, holding it at his side. He fought with himself, weighing the consequences of his potential action. His mind raced. There was a time he had wanted to save her, but he was trapping her all the while, wasn’t he? She was just doing what she set out to from the beginning, before he captured her. Jeremy remembered the last words she cried
out before the flash of light took them all. She couldn’t have meant it. Even when she held on to him, her eyes frightened and hopeful, the whole time she was planning this. He had bought her act so thoroughly that he was moved by her cries, costing him his victory against Serafin. Jeremy flung the pillow back down. There would be no traces left of her presence here anyways. It didn’t matter.

  Jeremy abandoned his bare room and found his way to Kit’s. He couldn’t suppress a sad smile as he stood in the doorway, his hand stiffly clutching the knob. He dropped his head. Could he blame Kit for leaving? She never wanted to be involved in any of this; she just went along to survive. No, that was a lie. Everything she had done was to stay with him, and he knew it. Za’in took her, tried to mark her — this mark that was an abomination, this mark that should never mar someone like her — and he knew he just sat back and waited. She came out unscathed, or so she said, but he never stepped in and rescued her. He thought of all the things she took on her shoulders for his sake. Jeremy grabbed a purple scarf off her bed and stuffed it into one of his deep cargo pockets, his movements quick and automatic.

  He turned his back on the room. No. They were supposed to stay together. She should have warned him, instead of backing him up to the edge of a cliff to see if he would jump at her request. And what was she doing with Serafin? She dressed him in uniform and brought him up to the tower. Kayla didn’t have the knowledge of this place or the freedom from Za’in’s watchful eye to pull off something like that. Not alone. Not without Kit. He walked back out into the hall, his legs rigid.

  As a curiosity before he left, he opened the door to Za’in’s quarters. On his simple bed were two masses of bone that loosely resembled claws. They weren’t the same as Za’in and Kayla’s weapons, but they were obviously related.

  Jeremy’s fists clenched against the memory of Kayla’s mastery of her Intercessor. It was all true, wasn’t it? This whole time he never minded the thieving of relics, the destruction of cults. He never understood Za’in’s attraction to dead religion, but he admired his willingness to crush what he didn’t collect. When Jeremy first saw Kayla’s hilt, he assumed that relic was just a fortunate bonus to capturing the daughter of Michael Steelryn. Sure, he had heard the rumors that Steelryn was part Angel, but he never believed in God anyways. If Michael was so powerful, how did Za’in take him down? He always thought the Angel legend was just the result of the mistaken retelling of a story that began with Steelryn’s former rank as the First Arch in Za’in’s Spheres. And Za’in was just a man. He used a weapon that matched the description of an Intercessor, but he was obsessed with the old cults, steeped in magic, and drunk on drops of science. He could achieve amazing things, but so have countless men before him. He was just a man.

  Jeremy shoved the bed over, sending the two bony claws skidding along the floor, as an enraged cry escaped his raw throat. It wasn’t just tricks and tradition. They drew their weapons out from their own flesh, and he witnessed Kayla use two Intercessors to Deliver, just like the myth described. Were all the superstitious rumors true? Did the Eclipse really destroy the Earth because Za’in brought down the void that was once Heaven? On the rare occasions that he considered what really went on the day he was born, he always put more stock in the theory that the poles shifted. He thought that what happened was all that mattered, not the why. Nothing could change the past. But this changed everything.

  Was Kittie part Angel too? What about Serafin? Is that why they blew everything up and left him to die out here? He felt duped, like the only human left on earth. Jeremy stared at the bones at his feet. Were they claws or something else entirely? He squatted down and held one to the window, examining it in the light. It twitched very slightly in his grasp, so he held on tighter. With his opposite hand, he ran his fingers up its base until his palm lay flat against its center. The claws shuddered, clamping down between his fingers and along the tender part of his wrist, the ends of each protrusion fusing together around his forearm. He felt a momentary pain in his palm before the claw unwound, relaxing its grip and returning to its former state.

  Jeremy wiped the drops of blood from his hand onto the side of his pants, a grin spreading darkly across his face. “So this is how you catch an Angel,” he whispered hoarsely. He pocketed his treasures and paused at Za’in’s door. He looked around, almost expecting to see that dark Angel descend. He laughed, crossing himself mockingly before exiting, taking pleasure in leaving his door wide open.

  He hurried to the garage, his feet light and his energy renewed. He didn’t care what state he would find the building in, he would brave it. As he ran, he considered that perhaps all this was part of some plan. Why else would Za’in leave behind these fetters? He shook off his doubts, dashing to the gate and pulling it open violently. Jeremy stopped short, staring at the one truck left in the empty garage. It only mattered what was, not why. Reasons were just excuses, and he wasn’t going to let them start paralyzing him now. Jeremy jumped into the driver’s seat, pulled the goggles off the rear view mirror, and drove out into the desert, high on the knowledge that he would never have to see this place again.

  17

  “I figured it out! It’s gonna take almost a year to walk to the location of the new Eclipse,” Kerif complained, separating his dreads as he walked.

  “If you weren’t playing with your hair, you’d get there faster,” Vic called from over his shoulder, yards ahead of him.

  Kayla followed as Asher led them through the outskirts of a ruined city, preferring to watch his back rather than her surroundings. She knew she’d feel safer by his side, but she lagged behind to stay close to Kittie. The small girl wasn’t moving at a pace that was unusually slow for someone her size, but Kayla remembered a time when she never had trouble keeping up with Jeremy’s long strides. Kittie’s eyes were clear again, her face was composed, and even some of her cheerfulness had returned, but Kayla couldn’t ignore the momentary clenching of her chest that gripped her each time she held her hand. They had been walking for two days, and in that time, Kittie had not mentioned Jeremy’s name, nor was she seen attempting to locate him.

  “Serafin’s got somethin’ up his sleeve, mos’ definitely! We won’t be walkin’ much longer…right Cap’n?” Fec’s confident tone slid into an uncertain whine as he stumbled in his sandals.

  “Well, yeah. That’s what I’ve been figuring.” Bruno pulled nervously on his hair, his eye troubled. “Miss Kayla is probably gonna spirit us away again!” He nodded, satisfied that he banished his own doubts.

  “Sorry, we decided against that,” Kayla said softly.

  They were silent, meeting her uneasy glance with hopeless expressions.

  “It would be dangerous for all of us,” Asher said as he kept walking, his steps slowing just enough to allow the gap between them to close in a few feet. “In the tower, we had to let her Deliver us — there was no other way out. It didn’t matter where she took us; few places would have been darker. Za’in may be the only one left who really understands the process of how to Deliver using two Intercessors. I can’t teach her. If she makes another attempt like last time, we might end up further away from our destination, or worse. I won’t take that chance. But that doesn’t mean we’re going to walk forever.” Asher didn’t glance at any of them, his eyes intent on the horizon, his gaze sometimes flickering to the brush and debris that surrounded them, as his careful steps seemed guided by urgent certainty.

  Fec frowned, kicking the rocks at his feet. “This’is worse than my batt’ry not workin’. If I got to watch even little TV, I’d walk th’ whole way there!”

  “You’ve watched TV before?” Kayla asked.

  “Oh yeah, lots!” Fec’s sallow face brightened. “I was four when the sky wen’ dark, so I still r’member . Hey Vic, you ’member that Batman cartoon?” he called out ahead.

  “How could I forget? You never stop talking about it.” He didn’t turn his head, his irritation carried to them by the wind.

  “Aww, ignore
m’brother. He acts like things were always this way! But I’m not bothered, ’cuz it’ll all come back soon.” He winked at Kayla.

  She stared back, unsure of what he assumed she was a co-conspirator to.

  “Oh yeah, she was stuck in that shithouse town near Madeline, whatever-it-was-called, for like her whole life. She doesn’t know, Fec!” Kerif smacked the back of his friend’s head, and then resumed his grooming as he walked.

  “Who even tol’ you tha’?” Fec scowled as he attempted kicking Kerif with his scrawny legs.

  Bruno sidestepped them, continuing his walk at Kayla’s side. “Technology is coming back. The world had some major issues right before the Eclipse anyways, so then when that happened, it was too much to recover from. It was basically anarchy for a while there, what with nature turning on us and none of our gadgets working! I mean nothing. All the power was out. I guess it doesn’t seem like much now, but at the time… Everything was built on it, see? People just went crazy. As if one wave of destruction wasn’t enough, right? Well, we get by now, but it’s like another Earth. It wasn’t an easy adjustment. But lots of time has passed and some of that old stuff is returning. It’s underground, of course. If Za’in knew anything about it, he’d take it for himself, and no one would ever see it again — not in a way you’d want to see it, anyways. But alls we gotta do now is take Za’in down!”

  “Revolución!” Fec and Kerif cried out in unison.

  Bruno ignored their outburst as if it was a common occurrence. “So now you see why we were looking for you, right? We have a coupla relics, but you’re a real Nephil.”

  “Yeah, and we gotta win now, ’cuz we have Serafin too!” Kerif grinned, fidgeting with his rings now. “I bet he even has a little Angel in him — just watch his powers of ass-kicking! Yeeaahh, we’re so close… You can have the TV, Fec; I’m waiting for air conditioning!”