Forest of Demons

by Debbie Cassidy

  She shivered under his touch, turning into him, clutching at him with desperate fingers.

  He was suddenly afraid. “Mia, please talk to me.” He pushed at her shoulders forcing her away, forcing her to look at him. The devastation in her eyes tore at his chest.

  She spoke through trembling lips. “Take off your furs.”

  “What?”

  “Just . . . just take them off, please Aryan.”

  Aryan blinked in confusion, but moved to do as she had asked. He shrugged out of his furs holding them at his side.

  “Now, turn around.”

  “Turn around? Why?”

  Her eyes warned of a storm.

  He showed her his back, and it was at the exact moment that she cried out in anguish that he remembered Valasea raking his back in a fit of passion, but how had Mia known? How . . . Valasea!

  He slipped back into his furs and turned to face his life-mate, watched the storm breaking across her face. Watched her fall to the floor, hands clutching her heart as if to try and piece it back together.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He left her there, sobbing over her broken heart, and went to confront the woman who had helped break it.

  She was waiting for him at the baths, her usual neatly styled hair a dishevelled mess, her eyes frantic. She was pacing when he entered and flew at him clutching at his furs.

  “I didn’t mean to. It was an accident.”

  He grasped her hands, pushing her away in disgust. “An accident? So, explain to me how you accidentally revealed to my wife that I was fucking you?”

  Valasea reared back as if he had struck her. Her sharp cheeks flushing red. “We met at the mill, I was picking up groceries, and she was in the queue. She approached me, and started to talk to me. She spoke of how in love you both were, and how happy you were. Then she told me . . . she told me that she was carrying again.” Valasea’s eyes filled with tears, her chin quivered. “How could you Aryan. How could you give her a child when she already has you? I should be the one carrying that child, not her!”

  “So you told her?”

  Valasea averted her eyes. “I was angry, furious, I didn’t think.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I told her that if things were so perfect then her life-mate would not be sporting another female’s mark on his back.”

  He experienced a wave of anger on Mia’s behalf. It pulsed steadily at the base of his throat. He couldn’t imagine how Valasea’s words must have stung.

  Valasea rushed toward him again, her hands held out imploringly. “I’m sorry. Please, you have to believe me.”

  Aryan pushed her away, his lip curling. “This should never have gone this far.”

  The air went still. Her face crumpled and Aryan’s softened. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Then what did you mean?” She pulled aside her robe exposing fresh bruises. “This is what I have been dealing with. Fen knows, he knows, and he punishes me every day for it. I can’t take it anymore, please Aryan, you say you love me then prove it. Let’s go, let’s run away.”

  Run away? He couldn’t run away. He had Mia and his child to think of, he had to fix things with Mia, and in that moment, he realized that love had never factored into what he had with Valasea. He loved Mia. He had wounded his life-mate, but he would spend the rest of his days earning her forgiveness and trust.

  Valasea was staring at him expectantly. He realized that he would need to tread carefully. Valasea had nothing to lose. She didn’t love Fen, and there was no doubt in his mind that she had deliberately exposed their secret to Mia. She had him bound as tight as a spider in its web. He would have to extricate himself cautiously.

  “There is nowhere to run, Valasea. The outside is cruel and barren. We would not survive for long.”

  “Then let’s take the ship. Let’s steal the ship and go!”

  Aryan’s breath caught. How did she know about the ship? Maybe Fen had mentioned it. Maybe . . . “What ship?”

  “The discovery ship! The one I came on . . .” She clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes huge with disbelief at her own slip.

  “How could you know about that, Valasea? How could you know unless . . . unless you remember.”

  She dropped her hand and raised her chin, transforming before his eyes, her cheeks sharper, her eyes like razors. “Yes. I remember everything! I remember being captured and torn from my home. I remember your men holding me down and taking me one by one. I remember them laughing, spitting in my face, beating me. You think your pathetic God is any match for mine! My people are strong, not only in body but in mind, and we are immune to your mind control. So I pretended. I acted as if I had been cleansed, and I waited. You were the perfect choice for my seduction. I saw it in your eyes the first time I set eyes you. More than lust, a desire to own, to protect, and I knew . . . I knew if there was any way off this island, it would be through you.”

  He was watching her mouth move, hearing the words but not completely comprehending them. He was filled with the echo of laughter. He blinked, shaking his head to dispel it.

  “Did you hear me, Aryan! You’re nothing, nothing but a weak-willed male who thinks with his shaft!”

  The fury was back in all its glory, and not all of it was aimed at her. “If our men lost their wits it was because of your corrupted isle. They saved you, brought you here so you could be cleansed. So you could have a life under the watchful eye of The Divine. I see now that you are too corrupted, too filled with evil to be purified.” He lunged, grabbing her arm, and began to drag her from the baths.

  “What, what are you doing?”

  “Ending this.”

  “No. You can’t do this. You don’t understand. I’m not evil! I was happy, I was happy with my people, and you took me from them!”

  Aryan ignored her pleas. She was tainted, a lost cause. He nursed his simmering rage, rage aimed at himself for being seduced by her evil. When was his last Assembly? He could not remember. She had coerced him into forgetting that also. If allowed to remain in The City she would corrupt everyone with her filth!

  “Aryan, please! Stop.”

  They were outside now, on the street that led to the force headquarters.

  “Please!”

  He yanked her around, his grip tightening on her arm where he knew it would leave a bruise.

  “It’s mind control, Aryan. Your God is corrupting you!”

  “Who made those bruises?” he asked, shaking her until he imagined her teeth rattling in her head.

  “I did. I needed you to take me away from here!”

  He looked down at her, his lip curling in revulsion, for where he had seen radiant beauty he now saw only twisted darkness.

  He dragged her through the empty streets, watching them fill in their wake with curious citizens.

  A warrior approached him, moved by Valasea’s pleas, but when Aryan told him of her taint he grasped her free arm, and together they hauled her the rest of the way to Headquarters, up the steps, and to Marduk’s office.

  He wasn’t sure why he thought Marduk would still be in his office, he had come directly here on instinct.

  The helpful warrior waited until Marduk summoned them in but didn’t enter with them.

  Marduk took in Valasea’s tear streaked face. “What is the meaning of this?”

  “She’s tainted. The cleansing doesn’t work on her.”

  “And you know this, how?”

  “She confessed it to me.”

  “And why would she do such a . . .” He looked from Valasea to Aryan. “I see.”

  Aryan inclined his head. “I’ve been weak, and I will accept whatever punishment you see fit, but she must be taken care of.”

  Marduk sighed. “Yes. Unfortunate but necessary.”

  Marduk moved to the wall where a cord hung suspended from the ceiling. He pulled twice on it.

  Valasea looked up at Aryan in panic. “You can’t let them do this! Don’t you understand? They’re
going to kill me! You’re killing me!”

  “No. I’m saving your soul.”

  The doors opened, and two of The Enforcer’s personal guards stepped in.

  “You may leave now Aryan,” Marduk said.

  Aryan spun on his heel and strode out the open door to the accompaniment of Valasea’s furious screams.

  He stood outside his home taking deep breaths. His hands trembled as he let himself in. The house was wreathed in shadow, the lamps burned low, flickering weakly. The family room was empty, the plates still sitting untouched, and the jug still full. He moved slowly into the bedchamber, and exhaled in relief to see her lying there, back to him.

  “Mia, I’m so sorry.” He sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her. “I was a fool, I was weak. I allowed her to seduce me. But it’s over, I promise you. She was tainted, evil. I’ve made sure that she is gone from all our lives for good.” He waited.

  Mia was silent.

  “Mia? Please say something.” He twisted to face her, reaching for her shoulder and hesitating. “Mia.” He touched her skin, cold as ice. He froze and then leaped into action, rolling her onto her back and staring in horror into her lifeless eyes.

  It was then that he noticed the blood, darker patches on the deep purple sheets, her wrists, smeared with crimson. He shook her anyway, calling her name as if it would undo what had been done, and when it didn’t, he held her for the longest time, rocking her back and forth, back and forth, until her body grew stiff and unyielding in his arms, only then did he cry, great gulping sobs of guilt and regret. His hand caressed her abdomen, saying good-bye to the child he would never have.

  Mia was dead, and he had been the one to kill her.

  TWELVE

  Aryan followed his brothers into the great hall for their final Assembly.

  Tonight they would be cleansed, and tomorrow they would embark upon their maiden voyage. The fleet awaited them on the coast. Five ships to carry five Hands each, as well as reserves. The ships were monoliths of powerful crafting, or so he had heard. He had yet to see them with his own eyes, but he would do so soon enough. There was no returning home after this. Truth be told, there was nothing to return home to. He had said his good-byes to Ama, and once he was cleansed, he would begin his journey.

  Bojan nudged him gently. “You all right, Chief?”

  He grit his teeth. He was sick of hearing that question. Of course he wasn’t all right; he had lost his son, his Da, and his wife in the same moon cycle. He was so far removed from all right that “all right” was a mere speck in his distant future.

  “I’m fine, Bojan.”

  They took their places around the dark abyss that cut through the hall floor and waited. Cadoc took the spot to his right, and Bojan to his left. He could feel Fen’s eyes boring into the back of his head; the warrior had not yet forgiven him for handing Valasea over to Marduk. He didn’t understand the half of it, and Aryan had been vague about the rest. It seemed that Fen was not aware of any affair. Valasea had been playing her games with him also, riling him so that he would vent to his brothers, so that he would vent to Aryan.

  It had almost worked.

  Almost.

  The Voice stepped into the room and took the podium overhanging the abyss. His skin seemed paler than usual, eyes twin stars in his face. Aryan was mesmerized.

  The room around him murmured before settling into awed silence.

  “My warrior brothers, tonight is a most auspicious night indeed. Tonight you will not only be cleansed, but truly become one with The Divine. You have a great task ahead of you. Our civilization depends upon your success. The City is dying, and we must find a new home. You will find us that new home. Your course is mapped, but the journey will be difficult, it will test you in ways you have not yet been tested, and you must remain faithful to the cause or we shall all perish. Your life-mates, sons, and daughters depend upon you. Do not be fooled by the primitive creatures that may cross your path—they are evil, deceptive, and worship false gods. You must eliminate them, must cleanse our new home so that The Divine may enter the earth and bring a new reign of bountiful harmony.

  “Open your hearts to The Divine. Let him in. Lend him your eyes so that he may see this new land. Lend him your tongues so that he may speak through you. Let him in!”

  The room exploded into blinding, beauteous, glorious light that touched Aryan, filled him, and wrapped him up in its serene warmth. His eyes remained open, seeing and yet not seeing. A dark shadow writhed across his vision. He tried to blink, to push it away, but he was paralysed by The Divine energy. The darkness wormed its way around the periphery of his vision and then vanished, leaving only the light.

  The light.

  The light.

  Light . . . .

  The light faded, and he found himself on the shore. The wind whipped his hair from its cue, the thick strands lashing his cheeks. He reached up to pin them back, his eyes fixed on the monstrous ships sitting in the churning waters. Reserve warriors ran to and fro, pulling longboats toward the lapping waves before pushing them into the water.

  He blinked in confusion, trying to push past the fog in his mind.

  A voice boomed in his ear. “Come on, brother, you’re with me.” A hand landed on his shoulder. He turned to see Harlow flashing his blinding-white teeth.

  Harlow pointed out across the serene gray waters. “That’s ours. Isn’t she magnificent?”

  Aryan followed his gaze and found the largest of the ships, its prow curved and painted into the shape of a giwulf, eyes glinting crimson as if in a rage. She was a beauty.

  Harlow rubbed his hands together. “I can hear the sea calling to me, Aryan. I tell you, once you’ve ridden her, your feet will crave the rocking decks of a ship forever more. Come!” He strode toward the longboats, and after a moment of bemusement, Aryan followed.

  Aryan stood on deck watching the sails billow, watching the waves shimmer in the moonlight. His arms ached from rowing. Two days of minimal wind had meant two days of rowing rotation. As soon as he had set foot on board, he had realized he was clueless about sailing, but he was a fast learner. Now almost four weeks later, his Hand was running the upper deck. Darius, a seasoned seaman, was invaluable in imparting advice and assured them that if they continued at this speed, they would see land by the morrow. Every Hand played its part, whether it was by manning the sails and rigging, playing lookout, or managing the many tiny repairs that sprung up. They’d lost a man overboard on the second day at sea. There had been no saving him from the freezing effects of the water, despite his Borean blood. In the long minutes it took to rally a rescue, he had already frozen to death.

  Those first days had been the worst, removing the ice off the ship as it accumulated, to stop the ship becoming top-heavy, and maneuvering through the bergs safely. Progress had been slow. Then they had come across a magnificent sight, a place where the air shimmered blue, purple, and emerald. It crackled and fizzed. Darius set their course directly toward it. They ploughed through the wonderful light, all five ships forming the head of an arrow. They had cut through into inky darkness. The moon stared down at them, a distant pearl hanging in the sky, and there was ice no longer.

  The sound of footsteps pulled him from his thoughts.

  “Strange isn’t it?” Bojan said. “Seeing the moon like that, shining so brightly night after night. I’m still getting used to it, and the weather, the warm air against my skin.”

  Aryan smiled. “Yes, I fear our way of life will be much changed on this new isle. Darius believes it to be a warm isle, dusty and dry.”

  “I welcome it.”

  “We will have to kill.”

  “If we do not, then our people will die. The natives are nothing more than evil primitive beasts,” Bojan said.

  Something resonated inside Aryan, a sense of purpose, a sense of peace. “Yes. Of course.”

  Bojan was frowning at him. “You should not question.”

  Aryan glanced sharply at him. His voice soun
ded . . . different . . . empty. “Bojan?”

  Bojan blinked and shook his head. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

  “I wasn’t saying anything, you were?”

  “I was?” Bojan scratched his chin. “Crud. Sea air must be messing with my thoughts.”

  Aryan smiled, but he was filled with unease. This had been happening more often than not, this loss of thread, but the worst thing was that no matter how hard he tried, he could not recall his journey to the coast. Bits and pieces, yes, as if someone had cut up the images and planted them in his mind for him to stumble across. It bothered him for a moment, and then it didn’t.

  “Come, let’s gets some food.” He slung his arm over Bojan’s shoulder.

  “What were you thinking so hard about?”

  Aryan frowned. “I don’t know.”

  They wandered down to the mess hall for their evening rations, and she was there—the only female on board, but she was more than that, she was their commander, the leader of the fleet. There was something familiar about her, and then there wasn’t.

  She was magnificent, wild and powerful, with silver eyes ringed in gold that were mesmerizing.

  She watched him as he entered the mess hall, her expression hard and soft and oh so confusing. He adored her, would do anything she asked, but she scared him, made his head scream in pain when in her presence for too long. She was chosen. She was The Divine’s voice on this voyage.

  “Aryan!” she summoned him. He went, his feet plodding toward her, even though something inside him screamed in protest.

  He came to a standstill before her, and she raised her slender hand to cup his cheek. Her eyes bore into him, and he could feel her inside him, searching for that which made him who he was, searching for his core. He felt her confusion, but then she retreated.

  “You have questions, Aryan?”

  He shook his head.

  She cocked hers. “Come now, we all have questions.”

  “Not I. I do not ask. I simply obey.”

  She stared at him for a long beat before releasing him from her hypnotic gaze. “You may go.”