Rift

by D. Fischer

  A female elf is on its back, guiding the creature with mere thought instead of reigns. She swivels her head, searching for something, and impossibly black hair falls over her shoulder.

  Adjusting her bow slung over her chest, she considers the small gathering of creatures of importance while her horse trots by. The weight of the animal quivers the ground and disturbs the snow rested there.

  Erma continues as I blink at the creature and the elf who rides it, watching as they disappear behind a teepee. “It means he’s more formidable with the bond of the contract. With you, he is stronger and also weaker. You are the power source he needs to rule all the realms, but you are also the only one who can bring him to his knees.”

  The words are sluggish to soak in, but when they do, I tut several times in obvious denial. I turn to Erline as Erma and the giant, angry elf brush the snow from the logs and take a seat.

  “This is why you brought her back, isn’t it?” I say it as a statement, knowing the truth as it filters into my mind. She doesn’t answer, but I continue anyway. This explains everything. “You hid Myla’s spirit from Corbin, from Kheelan, and when they started invading your realm to search for her, killing all those in their path, you let her loose once more in hopes she’d be able to destroy them. I wasn’t your weapon. She was.”

  Erma inclines her head, pulling my attention. “But now you are.”

  The sandman shifts uncomfortably. “The fate of the realms now rests on Katriane DuPont’s shoulders.”

  A darkness roars inside me, rising to the challenge while I struggle to rein in my anger. A gust of wind speeds through, ruffling my hair, and the fire roars to a bellowing flame, ready to do my bidding. Smoke curls from my nostrils, and as it does, the two women stand to their feet.

  I rise to my own, my movements sluggish and coiled. The tips of my fingers warm as my inner fire settles there.

  A nearby village child steps out from the inside of his teepee, a playful grin sparkling his miniature features. Once he spots me, he stops, wide eyes trained on the flames at my side. The canines bark and growl, their front claws raking the snow.

  Stretching one arm above his head, the large elf reaches inside his quiver and grips an arrow.

  “Mitus,” Erma warns and places a small hand on his bulging bicep, stopping him.

  My breaths huff and puff as I keep close watch on his movements.

  “She’s unstable,” Mitus says gruffly.

  A glow blossoms at the center of Erma’s chest, a warning to me. She’s prepared to use her magic to protect her people, and she meets my gaze head on, granting me choice. Calm myself, or tangle with her.

  Erline, however, slowly observes all that’s around her: the wind, the flames. Me.

  A cold hand is placed firmly on my shoulder, and the flames licking my forearms dissipate like water is doused over my body. I suck in a deep breath, feeling as though I’m coming up for air, and goosebumps pepper my skin once more.

  “Kat,” the sandman whispers, squeezing my shoulder once. “You cannot change what they have done. This is your fate now. Make the right choice.”

  I already know the answer to my choice. I made it back in the forest that overwhelming day. I won’t let these people die any more than I’d let my coven, but I sure as hell won’t let these two women dictate my future.

  I tightly close my eyes, resisting the urge of a violent revenge.

  “Don’t let it consume you,” he says when he feels my bones shake under his large palm.

  “If you want a weapon,” I begin, snapping my eyes open. “You have it. I won’t leave the realms in the hands of the fee.”

  Ripping my shoulder from his grasp, I turn and stalk from the fire, heading to the trees where the ember had winked from the realm.

  CHAPTER SIX

  AIDEN VANDER

  GUARDIAN REALM

  Fresh water replaces the open curtain of lava. The frigid flow cascades down my body and clouds my vision. I blink and roll my eyes behind the lids, dispersing the uncomfortable pressure.

  Eliza is still asleep, tucked in my arms and completely unaware. I thought the water might wake her, but she has yet to stir. Her once bright blue veins have returned to a normal hue, leaving behind glistening pale flesh.

  I stand at the ledge of a cave, the waterfall tumbling from the cliff behind us. In front, a hefty river expands, tucked between two forests. It’s clear, void of all colors, and I can see the red sands deep below.

  A school of … something swims inside the river. They’re unlike any other fish I’ve ever seen with six thick short legs, webbed between each limb. Their bodies are a matte dark blue, and no eyes rest inside their pointed heads.

  One unhinges its jaw, wide and unlawful to typical nature. With impossible speed, it swims toward another and bites the head clean off. Black blood obscures the water before it dissipates, and the headless swimmer sinks to the bottom in the red sands.

  I look down and to my right. Ferox lays along the jagged rock by my feet, and I study her as she watches the water with longing.

  Out in the open, her full body is revealed. Her blue tail is thick, void of scales, and the fin is quite large. Its tips come to sharp points, razor-like almost. I imagine the tail is as deadly as it looks – a weapon on its own. She has no breasts, an oddity, and I tilt my head as my eyes sweep her length. If I had to guess, pyrens have no gender.

  “I must get back,” she mumbles. Her tail flicks and slaps the damp rock. “This is where I leave you. Others of my kind are here, I can feel them, but they won’t be for long.” She tears her eyes from the water and squints up to me. “Do not step foot in this river, Thrice Born. The creatures here will eat you alive.”

  “What do I do?” I ask as she turns, creepily crawling back to the waterfall in a jerky army crawl, preparing to leave me.

  “You travel along the cliff,” she proclaims, pointing to a narrow path. She speaks as though my journey will be simple.

  “The tribes will come?” I ask warily.

  She nods and flicks a glimpse to Eliza. “You must wake her, or it’ll give the wrong impression.”

  Following her pointed gaze to Eliza, I ask what I should expect from the people here. I receive no answer and glance up with a frown. She’s gone.

  After minutes of staring at the trail of dried lava she left behind, I raise an eyebrow with a sigh and scan the horizon. An array of somber gray clouds claims the sky, and the river bends around the cliff, disappearing from sight.

  Hoisting Eliza higher in my arms, I take the first step on the narrow path, shimmying when necessary. Several rocks crumble under my weight and plop to the water.

  Briefly, I think about shimmering from the cliff’s path onto the bank but think better of it. Ferox made it clear I’m to travel exactly to her instructions.

  The path eventually leads to a dirt one, nestled along a grassy hill, the blades hip-height and backdropped by rows of barren trees covered in crisp white snow. The blue swimmers had followed me the entire way, hoping I’d lose my footing and drop into the river, providing them a snack. But as the trail leads a short distance from the bank, they disappear.

  Snow peacefully falls inside the forest but stops as soon as we reach the last tree. It leaves the grass untouched by the flakes and chill. A shaky breath swells my chest concerning the anomaly. Weather shouldn’t work that way. Temperatures and elemental nature should be gradual, not sudden.

  I adjust Eliza’s weight and use my free hand to cross the tree border. I yank it back when the bite of wind circles my hot fingers.

  Turning my hand, I stare at my palm, mystified. How is this possible? I scan the realm with a different take than when I had entered. Instead of a gradual climate change across the lands, it’s instant. It is a complete contradiction to the Earth Realm climates, terrains, and weather. The creatures and beings who roam this realm must be quite formidable to survive in such an atmosphere.

  I stand there watching the serene scene for too long, listenin
g to the silence only falling snow provides. It distracts me, and when Eliza speaks, I startle.

  “Aiden?” she calls, a cracked whisper.

  I look down into her blue eyes sparkling with so many questions, and her brows bunch. How long has she been watching me?

  A corner of my mouth raises in a half-reassuring smile. This confuses her further, and she gently pushes against my chest, hands trembling. It’s a wordless gesture requesting I set her on her feet. I oblige, lowering her to the soft grass swallowing my legs.

  “Where are we?” she asks. Her voice is quiet, too quiet, and as she pushes a hand through her damp tangled locks, she takes in the realm with wild concern. “Did I faint?”

  “Yes, you did,” I mumble, matching her tone in hopes to ease her edge. “This is the Guardian Realm.”

  The wait for her to meet my gaze is agonizing, a torture to a starved love, but when she does, I suck in a shattered breath. Her expression is soft toward me, and fear doesn’t surface in them like I had anticipated. I don’t want her to fear me, and my greatest worry is that I’ll accidentally feed from her. I don’t know if I’d be able to control myself if she did feel frightened.

  “Why are we here?” she asks then bites the inside of her cheek.

  I lick my bottom lip, wondering how much she remembers. “To keep you safe. To hide you.”

  “From Kheelan,” she proclaims. She releases the assault to her cheek and closes her eyes.

  “Yes.” I take a step toward her, hand outstretched.

  The desire is too great to touch her, to feel her soft skin with my own fingertips instead of taunting memories. She’s so alive, so innocent, a reminder of what I am not. I don’t deserve her, yet here I am, asking anyway.

  “Eliza,” I call, my voice a gentle plea of desperation. My heart can’t take much more.

  She opens them back up, tears welling along her bottom lids. They glisten and refuse to shed. Her lower lip twitches with a slight shiver.

  I take another step, blowing out a quiet breath.

  “What are you?” she asks.

  I blink, slow, and plant my feet. It’s a question I don’t want to answer but know she deserves. What I truly am isn’t ordinary. I evade the truth with a statement. “You know what I am.”

  She gulps. “A demon. But demons don’t feel. They destroy.”

  I incline my head, drop my hand, and stuff both sets of fingers in my pockets. My fingers find a piece of lint and toy with it, rolling and pinching. Please don’t deny me, I silently beg.

  “You’re correct. Demons are built to prey on the innocent.” I look back to her, peeking under my lashes. “But I am not one of those demons. Not really. Not with you.”

  “Then what are you?” she tilts her head, eyes sweeping my body. It’s practically visible - her line of thought - as she reconstructs her preconceived notions.

  I consider how to answer her question. Most of the realms know me as Thrice Born, but it’s underestimated. I am more, and when I’m with Eliza, I am blissfully invincible. “I am a demon standing before a woman who makes him feel as though I’m nothing but an ordinary man. I see only you, all of you, and nothing more.”

  She says nothing, my declaration yet to convince. I step toward her this time, and she adjusts her head to search my face.

  “I am a man who can’t breathe when I’m not touching you. You are my sun, and I am but a feeble planet caught in your orbit.”

  Abandoning the lint, I lift a hand from my pocket and brush my thumb against her cheek. Her dusty red lashes fan the space between us. This easy acceptance stitches the gaping hole in my soul.

  “What does this make you?” I ask, wanting her to declare her feelings.

  “Ignorantly in love,” she vows, the beginning of a bright grin tugging at her ruby lips. “I’ll always love you, Aiden.”

  I moan and close the distance, selfishly taking her as my own. My lips brush hers, once, twice, like a butterfly’s wings opening and closing. The movement sizzles my skin with a delightful tickle under the surface. The touch empties my heart and fills it with something else - sorrowful relief, warmth, and something no language can describe.

  In response, she exhales a whimper. Her breath fans the bridge of my nose and coats my tongue with her deliciously charged scent.

  Flattening my hand against the side of her face, I push it along the expanse of her cheek and then to the nape of her neck. My fingers knot in her soft hair, and I gently pull her head back, deepening the kiss. Our tongues touch, desperation behind the wet, soothing strokes.

  I never thought I’d kiss her again, our last a broken memory tainted by the void. I never thought I’d hold her, smell her, feel my heart sing only for her. She restores me.

  Another gentle stroke of tongue, another sigh.

  Could it be she’s my salvation from what I’ve become?

  My fingers tighten and she moans.

  Is this what true love feels like? Is this what it does to the spiritually and emotionally lost?

  She whispers my name, soft against my lips. So much longing behind one gentle word, and I wonder . . . I wonder if she has the same questions I have fleeting through my own mind. I wonder if she can feel her soul knit back together, too.

  Snaking her arms around my waist, she presses her body to mine, and my stiff posture relaxes against hers, another acceptance. Of its own accord, a tear squeezes out of my eye and trickles down my cheek, containing the evidence of my relief with it.

  Eliza is my everything. This woman is the end of my agony. She is the keeper of my soul, my life forever tied to hers. I will always find her, and she will always find me.

  A sob shakes her body. I use my other hand to hold her steady, curling it around her waist. The kiss deepens, the tears mixing.

  “I love you,” I declare, wishing I would have said it before I died my second death.

  I feel her smile in the kiss, a tug at our intertwined lips, and it’s then I know for sure: I’m hers. She’s mine. My very essence, the one I’ll worship until my last breath. I’ll destroy for her, become anything she needs me to be. I’d die all over again with a grin on my face just to keep her safe.

  Ahhh--oooo.

  My muscles tense at the strange howl resounding in the distance. The sound travels through the forest and barrages my hearing with violent vibrations.

  The hair raises on my arms, on the back of my scalp, and Eliza tenses against me. I break the kiss, the breeze cooling the saliva against my swollen lips.

  Another howl. And then another, each one closer than the last. I zone my hearing and focus my senses. Before I can pinpoint the direction it’s coming from, three green-glowing dog-like beasts skid out of the forest tree line. Two flank our front, and one at Eliza’s back, their heads slightly taller than the blades of grass.

  Their forms are unwavering like green glowing soundwaves, and their ears and noses are oversized and pointed. No eyes meet mine, but their teeth drip with a silky thread of lime-colored drool. It plops to the grass and instantly soaks in the blade, leaving no traces behind.

  I keep my gaze matched to the dogs, their faces contorted in a fierce growl. I can feel the venomous rumble through my shoes and push Eliza behind me.

  “Eliza,” I mumble in warning, barely moving my lips.

  “Aiden?” she asks, tinged with worry. “What are they?”

  I don’t respond. I don’t have the answers.

  I hear her sharp intake of breath, and she grips below my shoulder blades, gathering my shirt in her clutch, trembling. The movement is slow, but the dogs’ growls deepen, and their faces whip to the side, threatening and eerie. Their heads are a shaky blur as they conceive us as a threat.

  Eliza’s fear coats my back and seeps into my pores before I can stop it. It’s strong and delicious, begging me to suck in more. I grind my teeth, forcing my demonic nature to halt its feeding.

  “When I tell you to, I want you to run,” I murmur to Eliza. “Do you understand?”

&nb
sp; She doesn’t have time to answer. The three dig their back claws into the soil and barrel toward us.

  “Go!” I yell.

  I take off at a run, and we meet, dog to demon. I grab the closest approaching creature around the neck, and it chomps at the space between us. The creature’s spittle slaps my cheek, burning my skin, and I match his snarl with my own deadly growl. Its legs kick and squirm. The neck slips through my fingers, it’s wavering aura impossible to fully grasp.

  Deepening my audible threat, I inch my face closer. I don’t want to kill it if I don’t have to. Our purpose here isn’t death. But the creature persists in ours. It’s either us or them.

  Heat floods my hands and my lava-flowing eyes mix with the hues of the creature’s green. Sharply, my fingernails dig into the wavering flesh, soaking in the aura like my pores drink fear. The creature’s glow reduces as I feed from it. It’s a piercing taste, sour and potent, and leaves the scald of heartburn in my chest as an aftertaste.

  The next dog lunges. I snap my free hand forward, intent on it meeting the same fate as its packmate. An electric bolt beats me to it, and I pull my hand back just in time. It strikes the dog in the chest. The animal flips in the air and lands without a thud on its side. It gathers itself quickly, gleaming, to all fours. This grants me a split second to peek over my shoulder.

  Eliza’s hands are crackling with blue bolts just like before. Dark circles rim her bright, electric eyes, the toll of magic almost too much for her. I tense, emotions crippling me. I can destroy these creatures, but if she’s intent on using magic to help, it could force her into another deep slumber. She isn’t ready to produce more magic. Not yet.

  I drop the dead animal in my hand and prepare myself for the next who returns with a vengeance.

  A perfectly tuned whistle irritates the air behind me. The high-pitched sound, and the possibilities of where it came from, bristles my spine as though I, too, have hackles to raise. The dog stops and skids to a halt feet from me, the grass seemingly untouched in its path. The fierceness of bared teeth leaves its snout just as quickly as the whistle blew. And then it sits.