“We’ll chat where I say that we’ll chat.”
She grunted with frustration, her gut churning with nerves. With the blade directing her, she followed Abrax into the tunnel.
Inside, Abrax conjured a glowing orb, revealing crudely carved walls and a floor littered with debris. Ursula sniffed. It had that familiar lunar smell: creosote and rock dust. Abrax hadn’t been lying—this tunnel had just been hewn from the cliff face. A cold fear threatened to quench the fire in her veins. Where is he taking me?
Abrax led them farther into the bowels of the cliff. After a hundred yards, the walls seemed to close in. Ursula had to duck as they passed through a narrow gap in the rock and into another tunnel. Here, the floor was clear of debris and the raw smell of rock dust much fainter. Ursula reached out to touch the smooth stone walls. In this part of the tunnel, they were moving through an older space. She glanced behind her, seeing only impenetrable darkness.
Abrax led them deeper into the side of the cliff, the light from his orb revealing curling patterns and runes carved into the rock. The same ones she’d seen in Bael’s manor, carved by the same people. The passage twisted and turned, deeper and deeper into the side of the cliff.
Ursula’s jaw clenched as they walked. She hated the idea of ending up in a remote place with this smarmy, torturing prick. But she wasn’t holding any cards in this scenario.
Around them, veins of violet crystal began to streak the rock, and Ursula reached out to touch one. Icy shadow magic hummed against her fingertips. For a moment, she glimpsed Nyxobas’s void yawning before her. A voice rose from the depths of her own mind. Who are you, Ursula? Who are you really? Fear washed over her. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know who she was—she craved the pure, sweet oblivion of the void. The emptiness—the freedom.
As suddenly as the vision had arrived, it was replaced by a vision of Emerazel’s infernos—so realistic she could taste bitter ash on her tongue. She yanked her hand back as though burned.
She must have yelped, because Abrax spun round.
“Keep your hands at your sides,” he growled.
Ursula felt the sharp point of a sword at her back again.
As they moved deeper down the passage, the cool hum of shadow magic flickered over Ursula. More of the purple crystals glinted in the rock around them. Emerazel’s fire thrummed in her veins, yet her skin felt frigid—like she was standing outside on the coldest day of winter.
Something wasn’t right. Shadow magic had never felt this icy, this foreign, before. When Bael had taught her how to wield it, to shadow run, it had been a powerful energy flowing within her. Now, it was something entirely different, as alien to her as the harsh lunar landscape.
Just up ahead, Abrax disappeared from view as the tunnel cut sharply right. When she reached the turn, her breath caught as a wave of frozen air washed over her. I could really use a warm coat right about now.
The tunnel opened up into a large cavern. Like the interior of a geode, violet crystals lined the floor, walls, and ceiling. In between the crystals grew enormous luminescent mushrooms. Their light shone through the translucent stone, illuminating the room with indigo light.
Abrax strode to a platform in the center of the cavern, his arms folded over his chest, and mounted it. Despite the stillness of the air, thick clouds of shadow magic swirled about him. Violet light sculpted his exquisite face. He was striking—except the fact that he was a murderous arsehole kind of detracted from his beauty a bit.
“Now, this is a nice place to talk,” he said.
A frigid chill rippled over Ursula’s body, and her teeth began to chatter uncontrollably. Shadow magic wafted and curled between the crystals like swamp gas among the roots of ancient trees.
Slowly, the magic seemed to penetrate her body, filling her with an icy, gnawing emptiness. Ursula’s legs gave way to quavering spasms, and she fell to her knees.
“Now you see the true power of Nyxobas,” intoned Abrax.
“What is wrong with me?” Ursula managed. Her body was shivering uncontrollably, her teeth chattering so hard she thought they might break.
“That is what I intend to find out,” said Abrax.
One of the oneiroi guards grabbed the chain between her manacles and began to drag her toward the center of the cavern. As she neared Abrax, Ursula saw that he stood on a platform carved from pure shadow-crystal. Shadow magic floated over its surface in a dark miasma. Every fiber of her being wanted to run, to sprint back down the tunnel, but her entire body trembled uncontrollably, like a fish flopping on a fisherman’s dock.
She was unable to so much as throw a punch as the guards lifted her up. When they dropped her onto the crystal platform, shadow magic seared her skin, as if she’d been thrown into a bath of liquid nitrogen. Pain screamed through her body. Get me the fuck out of here.
With the chain that bound her wrists, Abrax yanked her into a sitting position. “Who are you?”
“Ursula,” she said through chattering teeth. “You know this, you useless knob-end.”
Quick as a snake, Abrax slammed his boot into her chest and pushed her down to the crystal. “Tell me where you come from.”
“I-I don’t know,” Ursula stammered. The icy shadow magic was so cold she could barely string the words together.
“Who taught you to use shadow magic?”
“Bael…” He’d trained her to channel shadows. Once, it had seemed second nature to her. She had no idea why it was hurting her so much now.
“I’m asking you again. Where are you from?”
“I’ve told you before. I have no memory before the age of fifteen.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“Look, a hag woman from the river told me something, but I have no idea if it’s true,” Ursula blurted out as a searing pain lanced between her shoulder blades. The crystal was so cold she could hardly breathe. “She said I’m from Mount Acidale.”
Abrax lifted his foot slightly. “Where in Mount Acidale?”
“I don’t bloody know!” said Ursula frantically. If he didn’t let her up, she was certain the air was going to freeze in her lungs.
Abrax pressed down again with his heel, and pain screamed through her chest, so sharp she could hardly take a breath. “If you want the pain to end, you will answer my questions. Where are you from in Mount Acidale?”
“I…don’t…know,” said Ursula, her mind swimming with agony. “I can’t breathe. If you don’t let me up—”
Abrax shook his head. “Pathetic. Kester put up more of a fight.”
With a jerk on the manacle chain, so hard it threatened to rip her arms from her sockets, Abrax pulled her to her feet.
She shivered in the frigid air of the cavern. Someday, Abrax, I’m going to stop your withered heart. “You know I’m engaged to Bael. The laws of Nyxobas protect me.”
Abrax jerked her chain so hard she stumbled toward him. He grabbed her hair, so that her face was only inches from his. “Let me be clear, Ursula. In my domain, nothing protects you.” He traced the sharp edge of a fingernail along her throat. “No one even knows you’re here.”
“Kester—”
“Kester will be dealt with.” Abrax pushed her away. “If you want to live, you’re going to need to start answering my questions. Tell me about Mount Acidale.”
Ursula shook her head. “I don’t remember anything. Agnes gave me a piece of my mother’s blouse. Covered in blood.”
Abrax’s eyes narrowed. “Agnes? The hag of the Thames you mentioned?”
“Yes.”
Abrax stepped toward her. “What did Agnes tell you?”
“She told me she was dead.” She should have felt a bit more of a pang at that memory, except Ursula couldn’t remember her mother at all. It was hard to grieve for someone when you didn’t even know what they looked like, couldn’t remember their voice or their smile.
“Is that all?”
“Agnes only allowed me to ask three questions.”
Think, Ursula,
think. She needed to find a way to get out of here.
Abrax paused, his eyes unfocused as he considered what she had said.
Now standing, Ursula took the opportunity to scan her surroundings. They stood on a platform in the center of the cavern, entirely ringed by violet crystals. The platform itself had been carved from the stump of an enormous crystal, its surface inscribed with more of the twisting runes she’d seen in the tunnel. If it weren’t for the freezing shadow magic, it would have been astonishingly beautiful.
Ursula glanced at the pair of oneiroi guards stationed at the base of the platform. They watched her with silver eyes, their faces expressionless. If she made a run for it, she’d have to get past them. And she was nowhere near full strength right now.
Before she could conceive a plan, Abrax pulled her hair so that she looked into his steel-gray eyes. “You said Agnes showed you a piece of your mother’s blouse?”
“Yes. She had a rag that she said had been my mother’s. Why do you care?”
“What did it look like?”
Ursula tried to envision the scrap of material. Everything from that time on the shore of the Thames seemed blurry, as though she’d been wearing glasses with the wrong prescription. The hag had given her the scrap of blouse, and later she’d stuffed it into a plastic bag. What had it looked like, exactly? Slowly, the memory bloomed in her mind.
“It was purple, I think. With gold embroidery. Covered in blood.”
“Your mother was a member of the royal guard?” Abrax’s face cracked into a vicious smile. “One killed in uniform. I wonder if she was the one Nyxobas recruited.”
“Recruited for what?” Ursula stared at Abrax, trying to decipher what he was talking about.
“Now I understand why Kester and Emerazel didn’t tell you anything.”
“What are you talking about?” Panic crept into Ursula’s voice.
“In the battle of Mount Acidale, we turned one of the king’s guards. The woman worked for us. When Bael gave the signal, she attacked the king, just as she was supposed to. She only managed to kill the queen. If Kester hadn’t been standing next to King Midac, she would have killed him, too.”
Ursula’s pulse raced. Bael had ordered her mother to kill a king? When she cast her mind back, she remembered Bael’s disturbed reaction to learning she was from Mount Acidale. But was this even true, or just more bullshit from Abrax? “You’re telling me that my mother tried to kill the king.”
Abrax’s voice was as smooth as a serpent’s hiss. “Exactly. And that blood you saw on her shirt came from Kester’s blade running through her heart.”
Chapter 3
“No.” The air seemed to have thinned around her. “You can’t possibly know it was my mother just because there was blood on the fabric. She could have died any number of ways.”
But even as the words left her mouth, she began to doubt them. When she’d told Bael she was from Mount Acidale, he’d seemed to freeze and his gaze had shuttered—as if he’d been putting something together. Maybe Abrax’s version of events wasn’t the complete picture, but there was something there.
Still, this was Abrax she was dealing with. Not exactly a trustworthy source. And yet it made a certain sense. This could explain why Emerazel had been so interested in her, why Kester was so distant.
Ursula glared at Abrax. “You said Bael ordered my mother to kill the king?”
Abrax smiled. “Indeed. Bael was the one who gave the order. I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I think your lover hasn’t been entirely forthcoming about his role in your mother’s death.”
Ursula narrowed her eyes at Abrax. She wasn’t going to believe a thing he said until she got to speak to Kester and Bael herself. At least—if she was getting out of here alive. She’d never felt this defeated before, out of options. And as if to punctuate the point, Abrax sent a stream of shadow magic curling around her.
Pain pierced her ribs, and she found herself peering into Nyxobas’s void, darkness claiming her vision and mind.
“Nyxobas!” she screamed into the abyss. “Your charming son wants me to believe you killed my mother. Do you have anything to say about that?”
Silence greeted her. The last time she’d entered the void, Nyxobas had come to her. He’d helped her defeat Abrax.
“Nyxobas!” she shouted. “Tell me the truth.”
The voice that responded wasn’t Nyxobas’s, but that of another god—dry, scratchy, full of rage—and female. Ahhh, the goddess of fire. Slowly, from the gaping darkness, a female form arose, one hewn of dancing flames. Was this a welcome visit, or were things about to get a whole lot worse?
“Consorting with the Night God?” Emerazel’s voice sizzled over her skin. “You are bound to be my servant.”
“Maybe you could help a little, Emerazel. I’m kind of in a tight spot here.”
“Find a way to get out of there alive. You will work for me until I release you from your bondage. Your soul is mine.”
“I’m just pointing out that if you chose to kill Abrax, it would be helpful.” Honestly, the gods were wildly irrational and pretty much insane as far as Ursula could tell.
Infernos blazed in Emerazel’s eyes. Around her, gouts of fire erupted. She towered over Ursula, her skin incandescent, like the surface of the sun. In each hand she held a whip.
Ursula’s arms jerked upward, golden manacles cutting into her wrists. She’d ended up on the cold, crystal floor. Luckily for her, she’d snapped right out of that trance before she’d had the misfortune of finding out what Emerazel had planned with the whips. In any case, it didn’t seem like she’d taken on board Ursula’s suggestion of killing Abrax. It was entirely possible that Emerazel had no power in the Shadow Realm. Or, she was just batshit.
“Lift her up,” Abrax growled.
The oneiroi guard jerked the chain again, pulling Ursula into a kneeling position.
Was Emerazel really about to whip her, or had that been a screwed-up dream?
Abrax’s lips curled in a dark smile. “Now you see why we must fight them. To the gods, we are but pawns in their game of power and domination. We will only be free once we overthrow them. We will force the magical realms into submission, replacing their gods.”
That is exactly what the Darkling would say. Abrax wanted to rule over the earth and the magical realms as a single god.
Abrax loomed over her. “If you join me, we could do great things. Together, we can vanquish the gods. We can usher in a new era. An era led by mankind, without the seven gods.”
Ursula stared dumbly at Abrax, unsteadily rising to her feet. Is he really suggesting that I join him? “You’ve got to be kidding me. First of all, since when did you care about humanity?”
“They existed on earth before we did. They just need a strong hand to guide them.”
Ursula straightened her shoulders, her wrists chafing against the manacles. “And I presume you’re going to be this leader.”
A slow shrug. “I am the most powerful of Nyxobas’s demons. And I can be very convincing. Who better than I to deliver mankind from their subjugation?”
Ursula studied Abrax, trying to determine if this was some sort of elaborate trick. “Then what’s in it for me?”
The incubus stepped forward and brushed a cool finger along her cheek. “Me. I will give you power like you’ve never experienced. We will rule over the earth, over Mount Acidale, over Maremount and Lilinor.”
Bloody hell. This guy is certifiable. “I still don’t understand why you need my help with this. I thought you wanted to kill me.”
Abrax’s smile broadened. “Oh, absolutely. You will have to sacrifice your mortal body to join my fight, but I can’t see how that would be much of a sacrifice. Once you get rid of that pointless vestige, your soul can unite with mine.”
The air in the cavern began to cool. “Yeah, I’m going to be a hard no on that one. Has it occurred to you that dragging someone into a dungeon and torturing them isn’t the best way to initiat
e a proposal for a lifelong partnership?”
Abrax moved closer, his icy eyes blazing. A strange warmth began to spread over Ursula’s skin. “How could you refuse? I am offering everlasting life. When you shed this grotesque form, you will live for all eternity within me. Also, I’m not really asking for your consent.”
She gritted her teeth. “Of course not. Consent isn’t really your thing.”
Again, Abrax brushed a finger along her cheek. An oddly disturbing sensation tingled through her skin at his touch, and she shuddered. She tried to find the words to say no, but his incubus power was already paralyzing her.
Abrax grinned. “When our souls combine, complete and utter ecstasy will overtake you.”
Every ounce of her being told her to run, but her body was frozen under his powers. Beneath the soothing calm created by Abrax’s magic, disgust roiled in Ursula’s mind.
He looked at her sympathetically. “That little stunt you pulled in Lacus Mortis won’t work again. I have complete control of you now.”
Abrax stroked her cheek again. She sucked in a sharp breath as an alien warmth burned at his touch. Inside, a war raged, desire clashing with disgust, but she couldn’t bring herself to move.
Abrax leaned down. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “Immortality is moments away.”
Fuck off, you rapey arsehole. Her heart began to thunder against her ribs, fear spreading through her chest, but she’d become immobilized.
He leaned in, gently nibbling her ear, and a shiver rippled up her spine. He slid one hand to her forehead and one between her breasts. He began to speak in Angelic, and a wild ecstasy pooled in her gut. Now, pure panic began to overtake Ursula’s mind, and something inside her screamed wildly to get out of this. This couldn’t be happening.
And yet, it was. Shadow magic gathered around them as Abrax continued incanting. Although her body remained fixed in a state of frozen rapture, she could feel shadows begin to crawl along her skin. Icy cold, they slipped into her pores.
Her body convulsed in a baffling mix of pleasure and pain. Cold shadows coursed through her blood. Abrax chanted louder, and Emerazel’s fire began to fade. She tried to open her jaw to scream, but her muscles refused to respond.
Eternal Magic Page 2
