Book of Sacha: Dark Fate (The Dark Fate Chronicles 3)

by Matt Howerter

  Eventually the pulsing agony began to fade, and Sacha struggled to stand. The bars of Teacher’s cage were almost entirely gone now. Bar nubs and broken bits jutted out like the teeth of a brawler, but she gave the hateful things a wide berth.

  Both iterations of Teacher splashed in the dark pool now. They grappled with each other while the liquid churned beneath their struggle and occasional cages that dropped into the pool from above. Several cages had already fallen and were sinking slowly beneath the surface. Their occupants pleaded silently for help with outstretched hands.

  The incarnation of Teacher’s power was free of the bonds on his forearms, but every scrap of exposed skin on the twisted body was bound with the chains she had taken note of at first. When an opening presented itself, Teacher made repeated strikes with his hand, which he held rigid like a knife, seeking to penetrate the flesh of his counterpart. The chains appeared to do more than bind the aspect, though. When her mentor’s hands made contact with these ropes of blackened iron, sparks flew, and his touch was rebuffed. The abomination, for its part, seemed only bent on her mentor’s destruction.

  Sacha gathered what little remained of her will and power to summon her gauntlets. They had proven the perfect tools for searching through the memories and thoughts of the Wildmen, helping her merge and navigate with her subjects’ most inner selves. She believed they might help her now. She hoped she was right.

  Sacha braced for the worst, and with a battle cry, launched herself at the struggling pair. She crashed into them with the force of a battering ram. They tumbled into the dark, frothing pool, and she screamed in pain as the viscous fluid burned her with an echo of the cage bars.

  Digging within to find her resolve, Sacha managed to retain a grip on both Teachers. The amber gauntlets sank deep into their flesh. When her hands made contact with the iron chains, a screech of rending metal was clearly audible even over the thunder of the liquid boiling around them. Whipping ends of blackened iron flew away from her gauntlets, allowing the amber fingers to slide into the body of Teacher’s monstrous adversary. Sacha gritted her teeth and joined herself to the core of each of her captives, making a conduit of herself.

  A light as bright as the sun flashed. Its brilliance blinded her to everything, and Sacha was flung from Teacher’s mind.

  In the physical world, Sacha stumbled away from her mentor, grasping the sides of her head in shock and pain.

  Teacher slumped where he had been kneeling.

  After the throbbing agony subsided, Sacha scrambled over to her mentor. “Teacher?!” She studied his face, and he looked as bad as she felt. He was drawn and haggard as if he had not slept in days.

  He blinked suddenly, looking up. The normally pale-blue eyes were bloodshot to a degree she had never seen. Several of the tiny vessels were not just inflamed but ruptured. “Sacha?”

  “Thank Eos,” she cried as she embraced him. “I was afraid I might have...” She couldn’t finish the thought. Instead, she squeezed him tightly.

  Teacher settled back to sit on the ground as Sacha began to pull herself together. After a few moments of silence, they leaned on each other until they were able to pick themselves up and totter to a nearby bench.

  Lines of worry and confusion etched their way deeply into the corners of Teacher’s horrible eyes. “There is something...I don’t…There is danger.” He shook his head against cobwebs only he could see. “Your daughter...you must…”

  “I know,” Sacha said, desperate to help him but powerless to do so. She gently patted his shoulder as he worked through the fog of his reawakening.

  “Tell me what has happened,” Teacher groaned as he rubbed his temple.

  “You have been under some sort of geis this past year,” Sacha began. “Because of this influence, you have been training me in the Shamonrae, but not in the way you had at the Monastery. You’ve shown me powers far beyond those sanctioned by your peers.”

  Teacher nodded. “I remember some of this.”

  Pleased that he actually had partial memory of what had happened, Sacha continued, “My daughter has been taken captive by the same creature who imprisoned you. That monster’s name is Vinnicus.”

  Her mentor went rigid, a look of anger darkening his features. “I remember this creature as well.”

  Hope filled Sacha’s spirit. With Teacher returned and her expanded knowledge of the Shamonrae, she might have a chance of getting her daughter away from the monster. “Then you know he is the danger you spoke of. The danger we must be rid of.”

  Again, Teacher nodded.

  A sense of urgency spilled over Sacha. “We must go,” she said. Now that her mentor was free, there was no time to lose. “We must regain our strength if we are to have a chance at defeating him.”

  “I agree wholeheartedly, my pupil,” Teacher said as he slowly stood.

  Sacha helped him as much as she could. Her exhaustion proved to be quite challenging in its own right, but together they managed to limp outside. Night had fallen, to her surprise. By Eos, we’ve been at it all day. They needed to get to Rouke and ride as far away from Waterfall Citadel as they could. The armsman wouldn’t—

  “Despite my disappointment, I have to admit...I am impressed.”

  Sacha lurched away from the pavilion they had just passed as Vinnicus’s voice rolled over her and Teacher. No! Not now...not yet, please...

  Shadows gathered at the edge of the surrounding flora in spite of her silent pleas. Two forms, one tall, the other short and stepping quickly to keep up, emerged from the depths of the gloom as if they had walked from a deep tunnel instead of a thick jungle canopy.

  Rylan! Sacha froze as her daughter’s face emerged from the shadows. Her delicate little hand was held gently in the long white fingers of the monster as if he were some macabre uncle. Vinnicus had brought Rylan. But why?

  “You!” Teacher snarled as Vinnicus’s visage became visible through the clinging shadows.

  Sacha felt the power of the Shamonrae gather around Teacher as he turned to fully face the creature. There was no way her mentor could face this menace alone, especially in his weakened state. She reached for the Shamonrae.

  Without further warning, Teacher lashed out with a focused wave of force. The sound was like shattering stone when the power struck Vinnicus full in the chest. The creature took one step back as a result, but other than his cloak whipping about angrily, Vinnicus suffered no other ill effects.

  The monster tilted his head toward Teacher. Mild irritation, as if Teacher had been an insect that dropped into the punch at a picnic, touched the fine features of his pale face. A brief flash of red glowed under each brow, and the creature simply said, “Be still.”

  An avalanche possessed the same gravity as that power-laden voice as it rushed across the clearing and pounded against Sacha and Teacher.

  Sacha took a small step back as the wicked energy brushed against her, but Teacher went rigid as a marble statue, his arms partially raised. The power she had felt him pull slowly bled away with each passing moment.

  “No!” Sacha yelled while forming the amber spike that had become so familiar over the past three months. Enraged and terrified, she launched the weapon at Vinnicus’s chest in hopes of piercing his soul. Only after engaging her true sight did she realize her mistake. The creature that stood before her had no soul. Instead of two sparkling orbs of energy, there was but one, and it resided within his mind. A gaping darkness was housed in his chest where the other orb should have been, and it swallowed her spike as a Baux fish might a hapless minnow.

  “Enough!” Vinnicus commanded. Again the sound of darkness rippled through the air, only this time it was focused at Sacha.

  Agony lit up her mind like a lightning storm. She reeled from the pain and released the Shamonrae and her power. She toppled to the ground, sobbing. So close. Tears leaked freely from her eyes as she reached in vain for her mentor. We were so close. Despair gripped her heart, crushing all the hope she had built. Sacha fought to rema
in upright. The weight of her failure pressed down on her, threatening to drive her into the earth.

  Rylan suddenly peeked around the dark cloak of the monster. She gazed at the pavilion and the surrounding sanctuary in awe, with no hint of fear.

  Sacha’s crumbling resolve hardened at seeing her daughter. “Rylan,” she cried. “I’m here, baby.” An almost palpable hunger for the touch of her daughter’s hand and the smell of her hair came over Sacha. In spite of the exhaustion, she pushed herself up and away from Teacher’s motionless form. She then stumbled toward her daughter, who still held the hand of a monster.

  “Be still,” Vinnicus said again, though this time without the resonance of the crashing power that had seized Teacher. Even without the weighted force behind them, the words froze Sacha in place.

  Vinnicus knelt and whispered something into Rylan’s ear. She nodded once then dropped his hand to run and explore within Riverside’s gardens.

  New fear gripped Sacha as she watched her daughter play, seemingly uncaring that her mother was mere feet away. “What have you done to her?” she wailed at Vinnicus, taking an involuntary step toward Rylan. “Have you destroyed her mind, too?” Sacha’s voice had risen in pitch until it was almost a screech, but she didn’t care. She could not face the wreckage of Rylan’s mind in the same manner she had Teacher’s. She began to stagger toward her little girl, monster be damned.

  Darkness suddenly interposed itself between her and Rylan. Sacha hadn’t even realized she was running until she rebounded off Vinnicus’s solid form as if he were a wall of stone. Her breath left in a rush, and she spun off his unforgiving body to land in the well-trimmed bushes surrounding the pavilion. Tough, woody branches scratched her arms and face as she struggled to push her way out of the thick hedge.

  A cold hand closed around Sacha’s arm and yanked her free of the bushes.

  Sacha tried to scream as she wrestled against the steely grip, but there was no air in her lungs to do so.

  “Calm yourself, Princess,” Vinnicus said. “The girl is unharmed. If you would release your passion, you would see that.”

  “Damn you!” Sacha finally yelled. “Damn you to Mot’s fire!” She tore at the hand on her shoulder as she was carried. She could feel the cold flesh of the monster where it held her like a pincer, and she attempted to claw his skin open. Two nails bent back and broke on the unyielding flesh before she abandoned the attempt.

  “The girl is unharmed,” Vinnicus repeated. No emotion colored his dead voice. “Look.”

  Sacha searched through bleary tears to find Rylan laughing as she jumped from rock to rock along the riverbank. Soft, lilting sounds drifted along the air amidst the ever-present roar of the falls as her little girl sang.

  “But she doesn’t see me,” Sacha cried softly, heart breaking.

  “Look again,” Vinnicus commanded. “With your magic.”

  Power jittered into her as she pulled unsteadily from the Shamonrae. Sweet smells from the gardens around her warred with the cold smell of the monster that still held her. She looked at her daughter with the mystic sight and could make out a faint glow around the child. It formed a sphere that completely shrouded her small form, though Sacha could see nothing that actually touched the child. Rylan appeared to play in a bubble that moved with her as she jumped and ran and splashed in the little pools near the bank of the river.

  “What did you do?” Sacha breathed.

  “I have shielded her from you and your mentor,” Vinnicus stated. “As far as she is concerned, she and I are quite alone in this lovely garden.”

  “Let me talk to her,” Sacha demanded.

  “I think not,” Vinnicus replied.

  “Then why did you bring her here?!” The mystic power she held boiled in response to her anger.

  “Did you think I would not notice your tampering?” The creature’s gaze did not leave Rylan as he spoke. “Did you believe you could escape me?”

  Sacha’s anger fizzled. He had known? How much must this creature see? “Please,” she whispered. “Don’t hurt my child.”

  “She is here as a reminder,” Vinnicus said as he finally looked down at Sacha. “Now you understand the reality of your situation.” He set Sacha down and glided over to Teacher. Blood dripped unheeded from both of her mentor’s nostrils and his left ear. One hand trembled, partially extended.

  Sacha gasped. “You’re killing him!”

  “Your insistence on disobedience is killing him,” Vinnicus retorted. “There are costs for keeping one with such power enslaved. The mortal body and mind can only handle so much intrusion.”

  Sacha moved quickly to her mentor’s side. Small tremors ran through his body as if some part of him was fighting to move, but he remained where he stood. His bloodshot eyes were not restrained like his body, for they locked on her face in a mixture of anger and despair. Deep in his chest, there was a strained rumble.

  Sacha took her linen sleeve and dabbed at the blood on Teacher’s face. “This is my fault.” As she worked, she couldn’t meet his bloodshot eyes. “I should have known better.”

  Another inarticulate grumble came from Teacher’s chest. She knew he was denying her culpability, but at hearing her own voice admit to it, she knew it was true.

  “Sleep,” Vinnicus whispered with a breath of power. His command washed over Sacha’s shoulder, making her skin crawl. Teacher’s eyes rolled to one side, and he dropped where he stood as if a string had been cut.

  Sacha snatched her mentor’s collar before he crashed to the ground. She stumbled with the effort and ended up in the grass next to him. She pulled him close to inspect his wounds. Blood no longer seeped from his nose and ear, and no trace of worry, anger, or frustration stained his features as his head lolled into her lap.

  Vinnicus watched silently, a tree in the forest watching rabbits play amongst the roots.

  What power did this thing have, that a single word could overwhelm her master? Sacha cast her thoughts about, reviewing anything she had ever heard, whether at the Monastery, at her mother’s knee, or even in idle gossip amongst her father’s soldiers, but nothing seemed to speak to what Vinnicus was. What did he want? Why did he go to such lengths to have her train with her old mentor? What in Eos’s name did he expect from her if she did master her power fully?

  “What do you want?” Sacha asked almost unconsciously as she studied Teacher’s weathered face.

  “For you to come into power and bring the humans together as one nation,” Vinnicus answered.

  Sacha looked up at the creature. “Haven’t we already done that?”

  “One nation. Not two allies.”

  Sacha scoffed. “Father would never agree to that.”

  “Won’t he?” Vinnicus’s stare was unnervingly penetrating. It crawled into her, unbidden, until realization dawned.

  “You would have me enter my father’s mind?!”

  “A better alternative than death,” Vinnicus stated matter-of-factly.

  Sacha shuddered. He’s known all along. He knew I would try to break Teacher free. “Why don’t you just do it yourself?” she spat.

  “I do not wish to lead a nation.” The creature’s gaze drifted back to Rylan. “I desire something else entirely.”

  Sacha narrowed her eyes. “You have no intention of letting her go, do you?”

  “On the contrary, I have no interest in the girl beyond my purposes for you,” Vinnicus stated. “Take comfort in the fact that I have need of you. Until that need is met or you die, your daughter will be safe from harm.”

  “What are you trying to do?!” Sacha demanded, exasperated.

  “That is not your concern,” Vinnicus replied. “All you need know is that you must not fail in your task and that time is fleeting.” Again he stared into her with those horrid eyes.

  She nodded silently and then tore her gaze away to watch her daughter play. She allowed a poignant sadness to infiltrate the steady burn of anger she held for this creature. “May I speak with my daugh
ter?”

  “No. Your attempt at insurrection with your former master is a distraction I cannot allow. Your cost is to see that which you desire but not have it.” Vinnicus gestured to Teacher. “His cost is more dear, as is mine, I assure you.”

  Guilt washed over her. She would have wept again if there had been any tears left to be shed. She could only watch as Vinnicus picked Teacher up from the ground and walked toward the woods with his boneless body.

  “Practice your art, Princess,” Vinnicus called. “You will have need of it soon enough.” Shadows began to gather around him like hounds gamboling at the heels of their master. “Return here on the morrow. Teacher will be ready to continue your instruction.”

  Rylan looked up suddenly from her play. “Wait!” she shouted at Vinnicus, voice high, clear, and strong. “I’m coming!”

  The clarion quality of Rylan’s call tugged at Sacha. She had barely heard her daughter begin to speak at all. Now it appeared she was beginning to master speech. Time was slipping by for more than just Vinnicus.

  Her daughter’s short, sturdy legs churned across the garden to where Vinnicus waited at the edge of the forest. One tiny hand reached up and grabbed a loose fold of the swirling black fabric around his tall form.

  Rylan paused and looked back.

  Sacha caught her breath. Perhaps? But the crystalline blue eyes swept past her unseeing, and she turned away as Vinnicus continued. The shadows consumed them both, leaving Sacha alone with her hollow guilt.

  SACHA grimaced as her assistant pulled the finely crafted arm-sleeve up over her bicep and fastened an etched golden clip. The last piece of her battle regalia was cool to the touch but warmed quickly once it was in contact with her pimpling skin. In truth, the armor wasn’t really made for battle—the scant thing wouldn’t stop an insect bite—but it was quite a marvel of engineering nonetheless. A cunningly wrought exoskeleton mirrored her spine to provide the structure for the hammered and gilded metal that had been molded closely to her body. Lobstering allowed the thin sheets of crimson armor to slide past each other, granting amazingly free movement despite the close fit. The sleeves were made of a textile she had never seen before. It felt as smooth as silk but shone like metal and had the heft of silver. When she peered at it closely, it resembled snakeskin that had been colored in the fiery crimson of Pelos. The exposed shoulders would have been enough to send her mother yelling for the seamstress, and the high-cut legs would have put King Hathorn in a killing mood. A shame he isn’t here to see it, she thought smugly.