“Are you ready?” Gryffon asked her and she nodded, not feeling ready at all. He once more laid his hand over the handle and pushed. This time it squeaked its resistance, but yielded under his touch and it turned. Gryffon pushed the door open and stepped through-
-and vanished.
Layna rushed forward to grasp at the air where he had been, but her hands encountered nothing, and the door slammed shut behind her.
An eerie other-worldly voice echoed throughout the room, “Ah, there you are, my dear.”
*
Jezebel's fury was like a tiger clawing its way out of her as recognition hit her like a rock. Blood welled up in her mouth as she bit her lip in rage, and she felt a terrible, murderous maelstrom of emotion roil up within her.
The servant girl she was after was standing there dumbly after having just rushed through the opposite door. That little hussy, that slut, that horrible, awful good-for-nothing...Jezebel glared as the girl's eyes met hers and widened in fear.
She had dyed her hair brown, but it was unmistakably the same girl that was ingrained in Jezebel's memory. It made her shake with anger that even with the auburn hair she was still gorgeous.
One of the hounds behind her growled menacingly and nipped at the back of her dress.
She clamped down on her emotions. She didn't want her feelings to overflow into the hounds and have them go berserk. While she wouldn't mind seeing the girl torn to pieces, she wasn’t quite ready to unleash them just yet. She would never admit it even to herself, but she was still frightened of the hounds, and unsure of her ability to really control them in this state. She very carefully took a deep breath and resolved to hold out until such time as she could properly show the slut her place.
Her resolve was tested at the King's next words. “I have been searching for you, my dear.” The girl looked around stupidly as if he must be talking to someone else, and Jezebel sneered. “It was fate that you and I were to meet, you know.”
“What are you talking about? Where is Gryffon?” the girl blurted, finally finding her voice.
“The man is of no consequence; he is not one of us and so was not permitted to enter. But you, you are one of us. You bear the mark, do you not?” he asked in a knowing tone.
The girl didn't answer, but her hand flew to her neck in an unconscious motion, and the King smiled at her silent acknowledgment. Jezebel's ears perked up at the mention, and she leaned forward eagerly to hear the explanation, her anger dulled slightly with curiosity.
“I knew you did. I can feel it. You've been strangely vague to me, but I now see the interference is the charm you're wearing around your neck.”
He raised a hand and the offending charm floated up off her chest and into the air. It jerked forward as if pulled, snapping the clasp off. It moved forward a couple feet and then the King flung his fingers out in a quick motion. The charm exploded.
Jezebel's eyes widened as it shattered into a million pieces and suddenly she could feel the power emanating off the girl. Jealousy mixed with hatred as she realized just how strong this little hussy was.
One of the hounds bayed ominously behind her. She ground her teeth together, and her hands curled into balls. How dare someone I hate so much be so much stronger than I am! No, no she can't be, Jezebel told herself, it must be some sort of trick, there is no way that this stupid little peasant can be better than me. What is going on here? Why is the King acting as though this is the girl he's been looking for? What does the mark have to do with anything? The little whore can't possibly have been consorting with the King as well as Gryffon could she?
Confusion and frustration mixed with her anger, and Jezebel felt her control slipping. Now would be the perfect time to strike, her inner voice said, whilst the King is so intent upon this little slut. She'd take care of them both right here, right now. Then she could go back and claim her rightful place as ruler of the kingdom, announcing that the King's unfitness for the throne had prompted him to attack her when she confronted him with it, but her superior talent had overtaken him, and she had reluctantly been forced to kill him in his murderous guilty rage.
“What is your name?” the King was asking the girl, who answered in a halting and trembling voice as though the word was being pried from her throat.
“Layna.”
Hearing the whore’s name spoken was too much for her. Jezebel didn't care what the King's plans were anymore. She didn't need to hear anymore from either of them. She was going to kill this little slut for messing up her plans so many times.
She was going to kill them all.
Red haze swam before her eyes and she watched the proceedings with growing hatred, all sanity lost from her.
*
“Layna,” the man repeated, rolling the word around in his mouth as though tasting it. “Join me, Layna. I can feel that you are one too. The same blood runs in our veins, powerful blood that is meant to rule. We are pure, with the blood of the Dark King. We are superior. Look.”
He pulled back the collar of his cloak which had previously obscured his neck, and revealed that just as Layna did, this man bore the same mark. His was blood red, and Layna recoiled at the thought that this man should have anything in common with her.
She could feel the black aura emanating from him, seeping out like a black liquid, and she shook her head numbly. Jezebel stood next to the man and Layna shuddered, unable to control the physical reaction her fear of the woman caused. The evil coming from her was almost palpable as well. Layna felt dirty being so close to the two of them.
“They will never accept what we are, Layna. We must show them what their place is in life, and start a new race of superior beings like we're supposed to. They will always fear us because they don't understand. Your place is with me.”
Layna had no idea what was going on. Where was Gryffon? He just disappeared into thin air! Why is this man saying that I'm like him? Who is he? And why is Jezebel here? I'm nothing like either of them, or the Dark King! She paused and had an unsettling thought. But she had just opened the door, what if... “What is it you think we are?” Layna asked, both out of terrified curiosity and in the desperate hope that in the time it bought her as he talked, some genius plan would occur to her to get her out of this mess.
“We are the descendants of the Dark King,” he told her, “the true royal bloodline. He placed upon us this mark so we could always be identified as the superior race - the race that he meant to re-populate the planet once the unworthy were disposed of. We have the power in us stronger than any others can dream of, and he made improvements to our senses and our minds. We hear better, see better, feel better, and even taste and smell better than the common man. You must have noticed your superior nature. We hold magical improvements within us which once properly unlocked will make us unstoppable!” The man was gaining in volume, waving his hands about excitedly as he explained to her. “We can even delve into his memories if we can find the key! Think of it, he was so powerful as to have been thought a god, and we could have this power ourselves! You must have felt the familiarity of this place, like you had been here before? It’s because you have, it’s in our blood. The secrets that our blood holds are immense. Together we will unlock those secrets. The key is hidden right here in this tomb. All we need to do is take it! Then we can rule together and bring back the powerful magics of old, and finish the work of the great Dark King to rid the world of the unworthy and take our place as the superior race to wake the Sleeping God.”
The hellhounds were growling louder now and Layna spared a glance in Jezebel's direction as she listened incredulously to the man's tirade. She was surprised to see that Jezebel had stopped glaring at her, and was now glaring at the man with new hatred in her eyes, her fists clenching and unclenching as he spoke.
“And what if I did join you, what about her?” Layna asked, pointing her chin in Jezebel's direction, wildly grasping at a thin hope of a plan.
The man hardly spared Jezebel a look. “She is nothing com
pared to us,” he answered callously. “Sometimes too much inbreeding in the stock produces ones like her, and the only thing to do with them is cull them out of the gene pool once they have served their usefulness. But you, you are pure and powerful. I can see the way now, and it must be you who takes the place by my side. Such strength and such beauty you possess.”
The hellhounds were practically foaming at the mouth now, and Jezebel looked ready to blow herself. “You aren't even a purebred royal!” Jezebel screeched at him with poison on her tongue. “You are just a good-for-nothing bastard who lied his way to the top! You don't deserve to be King! And that that whore is not better than me!”
Her voice rose to a high-pitched frenzy, and the man looked back at her casually, “You are one to talk about honesty,” he commented, “I don't think you even know the meaning of the word truth. ‘Bastard’ you call me? I have the blood of the Dark King running through my veins. Being a relative of Edward is meaningless. The Dark King is the only true royal, and he would be ashamed to have a descendant such as you.”
One of the hellhounds jumped forward, biting at the air. “How dare you!” Jezebel screamed and leaped forward herself, her hands outstretched with tiny fires burning on her fingertips.
The man didn't bat an eye, but waved his arm in Jezebel's direction. She went flying against the opposite wall as though struck by a giant invisible hand. She hit the stone with a thud, and fell in a heap to the floor.
The man turned his attention back to Layna. “So,” he continued as though he had never been interrupted, “Will you join me?”
“No, no I don't think that I will,” Layna answered and burst into motion. She grabbed for the power while leaping away from the spot she had just occupied.
She was not quite fast enough, and she gasped in pain as a stalactite brushed up against her back in its fall to the floor after being severed from the ceiling by a bolt of lightning that burst forth from the man’s fingers. It removed several layers of skin and she heard the fabric of her tunic ripping.
The man lashed out at her a second time and rocks exploded all around him as he triggered traps that were then smashed and deflected by his magical barriers.
Light flashed by Layna's head to explode into the wall, creating a huge crater. Layna spun around to face him, throwing her hands up in a feeble attempt to fend off the next barrage of power that he threw at her.
The barrier she was able to erect bowed under the pressure of the force he was throwing at her. She fell to her knees, feeling bruises starting already as they harshly hit the rock below. She moaned in pain and effort as the barriers slowly collapsed in on her, and tendrils of the light licked at her hungrily, burning her like acid wherever they touched.
The man suddenly gave a howl of pain and the onslaught paused, giving Layna a chance to recoup. She dragged herself to her feet, crawling behind a large outcropping of rock that had fallen.
She looked back at the man and saw that a hellhound was clamped onto his arm. He swung it wildly around, trying to get the beast off.
“How dare you set your beasts on me!” the man raged as he attempted to dislodge the hound. Layna saw with surprise that it was the hound she had freed, Weylyn. She could feel the difference in his aura.
The King finally got him to let go by throwing him roughly against a wall with a strength that was greater than any normal man. Weylyn hit the stone with such force that Layna heard bones snapping, and he fell limply to the ground with a whimper.
Layna cried out for him and as she watched, he tenaciously pulled himself to his feet with difficulty. Layna let out a moan of pity for the poor creature, and willed him with all her might to understand her urgent mind plea. - Find Gryffon! -
The creature cocked his head sideways at her and she redoubled her efforts, thinking as hard as she could about Gryffon's face.
Several others of the beasts growled and had started to lunge at the man as well, spurred on by Weylyn's attack. The man held up a hand, stopping them in midair, and Weylyn snaked out around behind her while he was preoccupied, giving Layna a frantic sense of hope that Gryffon would come to her rescue.
The man brought his other hand up and pointed at Jezebel, who had pulled herself to her feet. She hastily raised her own arms and sent bursts of fire towards him, while weaving a shield of fire before her.
The two were locked in a battle of wills for a long moment before the tables turned in favor of the man. Slowly, but surely, his lightning made its way down the path towards her, eating away at her fire.
Finally, it reached her and she gave a strangled cry, the fire around her flashing into nonexistence. The man let his lightning fade as well and he watched her with an evil smile.
Jezebel looked down at her hands and shook them as if trying to rid them of something foul, and she gave another cry.
The man laughed, and Jezebel’s head snapped up towards him, the hatred now so intense on her face that Layna could have sworn that her eyes had turned black.
Jezebel screamed and threw herself at the man, clawed fingers outstretched as though she would tear him limb from limb with her bare hands.
She didn't make it two steps, however, before the first of the hellhounds pounced on her. Layna reached towards her with the power, and found to her amazement that Jezebel's channels had been burned raw. Layna saw, as clearly as the hellhounds must, that Jezebel’s control over them was practically nonexistent in her exposed magical state.
The first buried its teeth into her arm and yanked, and Jezebel screamed in agony as it tore off a huge chunk of flesh. Blood poured out and splashed onto the ground. Jezebel brought her other hand around to cover the wound, but a second hound clamped down on that arm and shook its head in a morbid game of tug-o-war. Layna felt a splash of wetness on her face and she turned her head away, nauseated.
More of the hounds were surrounding Jezebel now, and Layna tried to use her power to ward them off, but had to abandon her efforts as the man resumed his attack on her. Jezebel's screams as the hellhounds ripped apart her flesh echoed dully in Layna's ears as she once again fought to keep the man at bay.
The screams finally ended in a gurgled moan, and Layna almost lost the contents of her stomach as she caught a glimpse of the remains the hounds had left. Her distraction gave the man the edge he needed, and he broke through her defenses.
Layna's world erupted into pain. The pain was all she knew, her heart beat pain through her veins, every breath was a dagger being stabbed into her lungs, and the air burned at her skin as a caustic gas would.
Then, just as abruptly as it had begun, it stopped. Layna panted, kneeling on the ground on all fours.
“You are strong,” the man commented to her. He strolled over to where she whimpered on the ground, and he knelt beside her. He lifted her chin so he could look her in the face. He tilted his head to the side, examining her, and then roughly dropped her chin again and stood. “But not strong enough to withstand me. Join me or die. Those are your only options.”
Layna felt blood welling in her mouth and she spat it at his feet in answer. I will not be like them. I don't care about the mark on my neck. I am NOT THEM! She jutted her chin out stubbornly and stared him down.
His eyes darkened and he sighed. “So be it.” He lifted a hand and the pain returned. Layna wished for it to end, waiting for the light they always said would appear when you died so she could run for it with open arms. She would welcome death to stop the pain, and she willed it to happen.
A bright light filled Layna's sight, and she felt the warm glow of it enveloping her. She reached for it happily and it surrounded her, a white peace which she sank gratefully into. The pain faded to a dull memory, and she drifted through space and time with no concept of either.
Something familiar tugged at her consciousness and she let the thought through, opening her eyes to her surroundings. The entire landscape was white, and tiny sparkles filled the air with a strange sense of pattern to their movement.
As
she watched, Layna decided that these sparkles must be some kind of spirit being, perhaps to guide her to her final destination. They floated closer and closer to her, and then converged around her. As they did so she felt the pain of her body returning and she silently begged them to keep her there.
A cloud formed of the sparkles, forming a shape vaguely like a glowing human and it shook its head solemnly. It took her hand and she felt as though she was falling, falling back into a very real body, a body with very real sensations. She heard the beating of a heart, deep thumping as it pumped blood around and Layna flowed back in with it, every bruise and every cut searing with pain as she became aware of them once more.
She took a gasping breath and opened her eyes. Gryffon's face was before hers, a worried look creasing his brow. It brightened as she blinked at him, and she breathed, “Gryffon.”
“Layna,” he answered, “Come back to us.”
She coughed, and Gryffon supported her as she hacked up blood. “That's attractive,” she commented with a weak smile in an effort to make light of her agony.
Gryffon chuckled slightly and rubbed her back. “You always are, beautiful.” Layna looked up at him and could have sworn that on his shoulder sat a tiny black dragon. When she shook her head to clear it, closing and then opening her eyes again, it was gone.
Weylyn came limping forward to lick her face and she laughed, wishing she had the strength to heal the poor thing who had so courageously and loyally tried to save her.
“What happened to you?” she asked Gryffon. “Did Weylyn find you?”
Gryffon gave her a bewildered look and shrugged. “When I walked through the door I was transported into a chamber which started pouring poisonous gas in at me. I was sure I was a goner as I couldn't see any openings or any way to escape. I don't know what happened, but one minute I was gagging for air, and the next I was in here with the hound and then you appeared before me looking like death and not breathing. Wherever here is,” he added absently.
Unleashed Fury (BloodRunes: Book 1) Page 31
