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

by Angelica Clyman

  Jeremy’s elbows were planted on his thighs, and his body sagged, his head dropping heavily. “It’s my fault. You should have killed me when you had the chance.”

  “But I didn’t. It was for her that I showed mercy. You can’t change what you’ve done, but, for her sake, tell me what you saw.”

  There was a long stretch of silence before Asher could hear the muffled sound of Jeremy’s struggle to swallow. When he finally spoke, his voice was raw, cracking under the weight of his emotions, welling up to form soundless words, and falling back into explanations toneless with apathy. “Kit can see stuff, you know that. She’s always been able to see me. I couldn’t feel everything like I do now, because of these things,” he paused to glance at his arms, “but I always knew she was around, somehow. But after the tower came down, I knew that was over. She was gone. But, fuck it, you know, you all left me to die, but instead I was saved again by being born at a really shitty time in history. It still meant something to Za’in, so I did what he wanted. I didn’t think about it, I didn’t know what it meant… I just wanted Kayla to feel like I did. But instead, I really learned what being cursed was. He was in me. It was strange; I was closer to her than ever, and I wanted it, I wanted her, but he was in the middle. Twisting everything around. I was out of everyone’s reach, but he had me.

  “Then in Azevin, it hit me. I wasn’t an Arch, I wasn’t anything, I was grasping at shit…and when I saw you brought her into Tregenne’s sights, unprotected… Serafin, you may have shown me mercy in the past, but that night, your only saving grace was what I didn’t mean to see in you. And I can’t explain that. I can’t explain what came after. But when I ignited, when it all burned down…he’s been quiet since. It should bring me peace, but you saw her wings, like mine. Who started it? I’m beginning to wonder if it was even one of us.

  “But, like I said, silence. So Kit tried, to see if everything could be like it was. For the first time, it wasn’t just some vague sense of not being alone — I could feel her reaching into me. But there was something in the way. Black matted…wires, or something. Mud. It was smoldering, rancid, suffocating. There was no way she’d make it through that. I don’t remember hearing any sound, but there was something piercing, deafening in that silence. My ears stung. I’ll admit it, I was scared. But I tried. I wanted her to break through. When I saw her fingers, I felt wind move through the stale air. When I saw her eyes, I felt fluid draining from my ears, from wounds I didn’t notice before. She smiled, told me that I wasn’t…alone…and that Kayla needed me now. And then I could feel her nearby, watching me, and I had to turn, to see her, and now that I felt my burden lifted I wanted to tell her that things were different, and I couldn’t feel these chains on my arms anymore, and maybe it would be safe to…

  “But then I opened my eyes and I saw her, and I had some new kind of vision. Maybe it’s how Kit sees the world, I don’t know, and it only lasted for a few breaths, but Kayla — fucking beautiful — around her, there was a dark cloud, and right above her shoulder it was gathered the tightest. Tendrils of smoke stroking her cheeks, grabbing at her arms, and she had no idea. It’s him. That’s why he’s been quiet. Azevin was a trap. Tregenne was ready for you — that was to be expected. But to guess what I’d do? I can’t even do that. So much for free will, right?” He laughed bitterly. “So now you know. It’s up to you. I don’t know what to do about any of this. All I know is that I have nothing left but to see this through with her, and since I can’t be an invisible sentinel, I gotta be one that is barely tolerated. Hated, if possible. You have to be the one to save her.”

  Asher turned to meet his red-rimmed stare as Jeremy raised his head. “I’m only a man. What can I do without your kind of eyes?”

  A broken smile rose and then collapsed under its own weight. “You can talk to her.”

  Asher nodded, turning again to the window, knowing a sympathetic expression would only contribute to the mangled pile of suffering that built up in Saros. “You believe that I should question her, I should listen, but not warn her.”

  “I probably gave up too much by telling her to ignore voices in her head, but I don’t think he should know we’re onto him. And it wouldn’t help her to know he’s there. It’s impossible to stop your thoughts from reaching him, and the fear… The fear would get to anyone.” Jeremy let out a heavy breath, sniffling and coughing a little as he rubbed his face. Out of the corner of his eye, Asher could see his body straighten, his shoulders returning to their insolent posture — the final detail of collecting himself.

  “I understand. I’ll tell you what I hear if you tell me what you see. We’ll have to trust her to fight for herself. That’s what it will come to in the end, when the sky darkens.”

  “Sounds as good as any plan I’ve followed lately,” Jeremy muttered as he stood, leaning against the railing to stare out of the foggy, barred window into the rainy twilight.

  All was quiet beyond the tinny sound of water dropping against metal sheets, and the softer echoes that came from the rain finding other more complex paths down to the ground. They waited, eager to see her come down into the valley, ready to run to her and usher her inside, even as they knew it was a delusion to think that would keep her any safer from what threatened her.

  Their momentary peace was shattered by Jeremy’s voice rising tensely, “Serafin—”

  Asher was on his feet. “Where is she?”

  Jeremy held his hand out as if to silence him, dropping his head in concentration. After a moment, he drew himself up as a growl tore through him, some new understanding burning in his eyes. “You’re coming. Forget your pride.” He grabbed Asher, threw him across his shoulders, and bounded down the stairs, sending rust scattering out from beneath his boots with each booming step.

  Asher had no choice but to let his body relax, caught helplessly in an unyielding grip. Deep breathing was his only defense against the fetters as they sent sharp stabs into his limbs and side. Jeremy’s agitation and rage was infectious, but Asher didn’t engage in a struggle with the fractured, crazed images that assaulted his brain, and instead just let them wash over him. The world flew by, each separate part of the environment now connected by muted streaks of color, the rain stinging his face as he met the drops with reckless speed. He could hear the violent impact of Jeremy’s footfalls as he burned through the landscape, but Asher could feel no accompanying jolts travel up to his body.

  The journey ended with the ground meeting him in a blinding crash. Asher rolled out of his fall, threw one arm up to protect himself, and waited for his vision to clear. He heard a screeching cry ring out while a dark figure stumbled back, holding its face, and Jeremy stooped down, cradling Kittie in his arms. His eyes darted over the scene, searching for Kayla. He turned to his right to see Fec blowing more smoke into the already large and threatening cloud that hovered in front of him, while Bruno flung his razor coins into the haze. A soldier of Za’in’s Spheres already lay bloody and motionless near their feet. Asher painfully pulled himself up to crawl, moving quickly in breathless anxiety. Soon he saw the warm gleam of her hair in the wet, gray night, hidden behind Vic’s protective stance. She was crouched beside Kerif, her face closed with intense concentration and her hands gently laid on his chest and shoulder as he grimaced in pain.

  Before he could go to her, he heard Jeremy’s ragged yell. “Serafin! Get Kit and get them out of here!” The creature Saros struck earlier had recovered and immediately pounced on him, but Asher didn’t have time to watch the outcome of the fight. Kittie was curled up on the ground, the side of her face bruised and bleeding, and he scooped her up, struggling to stand.

  A shrill howl stung his ears for a moment before he was knocked to the ground again. The voice was vaguely feminine, but so thick with agony that it was difficult to understand. “No! She’s going to pay for what she did. I can’t even hear Him anymore!” Asher twisted his body as he fell, softening the blow for the child he held in his arms, and then he whipped his head towards t
he sound. He was only mildly shocked to notice that the deformed creature that caused Saros to collide with him was the Second Arch Fiora. The small, bony Mods she wore on her wrists appeared to have shattered and were dragged up her arms through bloody, jagged paths, leaving pieces of blackened bones imbedded in her burned flesh. Those fetters crawled over her shoulders, wrapping unevenly around the sides of her face, and Asher couldn’t tell if that was the cause of her horrifically skewed features, or if the source was internal. Some of the larger shards of bone seemed to fuse portions of her appendages to the tangled mass that gathered on her back, and it rendered her movements limited and jerky.

  “Leave her the fuck alone, Ev!” Jeremy snarled, tearing the bandages off his arms and springing forward, knocking her into the mud. He slammed his palm against her forehead, that violent contact with the ground pulling her chin and chest upward. He dragged the jagged bones on his forearm along the exposed flesh of her throat, grinding his weight against her in some instinctive effort to smear her over the rocks.

  Asher watched their exchange, and when he saw blood spill into the wet sand, he managed to rise and stumble to Kayla’s side, still protectively holding Kittie’s wounded body. The Nephil met his eyes, and he could see the fear in her quieted by purpose.

  “I closed Kerif’s wound, but I still don’t have control of the ability. I don’t think I have anything left.” Her gaze moved regretfully over Kittie’s face, and lingered on Asher’s bandaged hand.

  “We’ll live. Follow me into the valley; it’s too dangerous out here.” They stood, and he raised a flap of his poncho, beckoning her to find shelter at his side as they made their escape. He was aware of the warmth of her body against his before a loud crack snapped through the air, and his footing slipped as he felt Kayla fall down onto her knees.

  Evangeline’s triumphant shriek was closer than he expected. “Where are her wings now? She took Him from me, but it doesn’t look like He’s on her side anymore. This must be a test!”

  Asher could see a tangle of blacked bones tightening around Kayla’s throat. “No! Don’t touch it!” he barked, smacking her hands away from her reflexive attempt to free herself, and he knelt and forced his own fingers between the choker and her flesh. “If these things bind your hands, they’ll take everything away.” He turned his head to see Evangeline holding the end of the chain of tangled bone that was wrapped around Kayla. The Arch’s throat and chest were torn, and blood oozed down over her breasts, staining her tattered uniform.

  She set her gaze on him. “Some legend you turned out to be, Serafin. I guess it’s no mystery why the resistance failed. I really am disappointed, but without martyrdom all heroes become has-beens, right? If you didn’t have the decency to die in Azevin the first time, you never should have stopped wandering the wastelands. Oh well, it doesn’t really matter anymore, does it? You can stop fighting over her. She’s mine now.” A blissful smile flickered over her face, twisting into a grimace as she yanked on the whip. Asher took some of the impact as his bleeding fingers struggled to keep a hold on the fetters, but it was ripped from his grasp as Kayla was jerked into the mud.

  A strange clattering sound followed the Nephil as she was dragged, choking, towards the Arch. Asher slid Kittie to the ground so that he could scramble forward, collecting Kayla’s dropped Intercessors before Evangeline could snatch them. He slipped them beneath his poncho, and he couldn’t tell if they were restlessly stirring at his side, or if he just felt uneasy holding them so closely. Was she being careless, or did she offer these to him in desperate hope?

  Two gore-stained hands emerged from the gathering darkness, grabbed the whip as it hung in the air between the two women, and twisted it until it snapped. Jeremy seized the half that Evangeline still held before he slipped behind her, throttling her with her own weapon. Asher was surprised to notice fresh gouges running along Jeremy’s face, and even the shadows couldn’t conceal the appearance of bloody, mangled flesh stretched across his left arm.

  A warm, frantic energy zigzagged up Asher’s limbs, radiating from a frenzied heat in the center of his palms. He looked down to the see the hilts of Kayla’s Intercessors clenched tightly in his fists, the grip of his wounded hand strong and without pain. Turning his head, he could see her eyes, peering over Vic’s massive hands as he fought with the fetters for her breath. Asher understood what she asked of him, and he allowed himself to be a vessel. As he rushed forward, his body suddenly infused with new vigor, he felt the weight he held in his hands shift, and he didn’t have to look down to know he would Intercede with kukris now.

  “Christ, you’re pathetic!” Evangeline spat, flipping Jeremy over her shoulder and slamming him to the ground. “You were only strong because of Him!” She tore a deafening, agonized scream from Saros as she ripped another chunk of blackened bone from his arm. Evangeline didn’t even notice his torment as she gazed wistfully at the dark mass in her hand. “Why doesn’t He speak to me anymore? Where is He?” she murmured.

  Asher reached the Arch as all of Kayla’s resolve and fear surged through him in one last quivering burst, pressing against his skin from the inside until he didn’t care if it tore him apart. He never felt such sublime peace as the blades arced down, one following the other like the beat of an exultant heart. Evangeline’s body, slashed in two, fell in the same rhythm as his strikes. The blades retracted and Asher’s body sagged; all the Angelic vitality that flooded him was now exhausted. Jeremy had pulled himself up, halfway to standing, but he froze, regarding the grisly scene with stricken features. He tightened his muscles to stop their trembling and hurtled to where Kayla was propped up against Vic’s chest.

  The pirate managed to keep the grip of the fetters from cutting off her ability to breathe, as his scraped and cut fingers pulled outward on the ring of bone, inching the weapon away from her tender throat. Jeremy’s left hand was mutilated by Evangeline, but it was free of the parasite that bound him, so he was able to slide his fingers up beneath the choker and grasp it hard, while the other hand yanked the tangled mass in the opposite direction. The ring snapped in two, and he pulled back both pieces as they flailed violently. The fetters quickly crawled up his arms, finding a place to join with him.

  Asher’s steps were slow and purposeful, concentrating on each movement forward to ensure there would be a next one. He bent briefly to collect the wounded Kittie before he fell heavily to his knees and offered the spent hilts to the Nephil. The rest of the pirates staggered close, joining their solemn, ragged circle, and Kayla took the Intercessors back into herself, bowing her head and whispering prayers of thanksgiving to her human friends. They all sat motionless, unmoved by the storm, none of them willing to break the comfort given by Kayla’s falling tears. They didn’t hear the cry of a frightened child, but an Angel weeping for their broken world.

  41

  Kayla tried to sweep aside the wet, clotted dirt and heavy flakes of rust that littered the floor, but the dust brush she found was missing half its bristles, and the rest were split and curled, catching debris just enough to spread it around. She stayed intent on her task, even though all she accomplished was scrubbing the grime further into the concrete. She enjoyed the sensation of her knees pressed against the hard floor, her toes pulled back, and her weight falling onto her elbows or the heels of her hands, leaving stiffness in her shoulders. In this position, she could stretch out her sore lower back, and twist the ache out of her hips. Her leg muscles could relax, and all the symptoms that came from days of walking could recede, and new pangs of fresh discomfort could soothe her.

  But the motions of this little chore couldn’t erase the throbbing sting trapped beneath the bandages that bound her neck and shoulder, nor could it soften the memory of what happened outside Cormina. The only thing that brought her peace was the knowledge she was clearing this space for Asher.

  He explained that they had to stay here for the night. The ferry wouldn’t be active again until the morning, and they should use this time to recov
er what strength they could. Still, she didn’t like this place. Cormina wasn’t the rough collection of filth that was proudly Azevin, nor did it possess the unnatural innocence of the potter’s village. It was unlike the beautiful desolation of the road, or the stillness of the ghostly ruins that hosted the last Eclipse. Kayla could feel the decay in Cormina. Even now, she was aware of the twisted olive trees outside, their brittle bark uselessly taking in the rain, and she couldn’t be the only one that could smell the rot of the vineyard.

  The winery had been left to waste away, and it was an uncomfortable place to wait for the sunrise. The skeleton of the structure was laid bare, its shed layers cast aside in ruined shards. It was difficult to imagine what this place once looked like. She had attempted such a vision while she sat at the bottom of the stairs in the emptied vat room, lazily turning the crank that kept Kittie’s flashlight burning, but the wood splintered again in her mind when she felt Vic watching her from the door, and she imagined the stones falling back to the ground every time she heard Fec and Bruno shift uneasily on the catwalk above her. The void that connected the two floors kept her accessible to her companions, but her thoughts needed some cover and her body nervously searched for distraction. Kayla cried out a quick excuse and apology, dashing into the little room nestled beneath the staircase.

  She paced the small office, rummaging through sliding drawers and struggling with the metal door of a cabinet, painted a muted green. Her curiosity about what was left behind disappeared with the discovery of the dust brush. There was nothing soft and clean about their hideout, but she was determined to change this room into a place where Asher could find comfort when he was through seeing to the wounded. He was in the washroom now — a small, separate building less littered with debris — and he had ordered her to rest and attempt no more healing tonight. He knew she easily exhausted herself with this skill she hadn’t mastered, and after what strength she lent him with her Intercessors…