The Slivers of Avalon: The Abandoned Edge
Page 38
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The centaurs don’t appear to be anywhere nearby, nor do I hear the sweet music of the precious fae. But an intense spiritual presence is in the air. I feel it through and through. Just like I felt my power during my first fight with Donovan. I am stronger than him. I did take us to The Edge. It is nearby; I just need to get my bearings straight.
Donovan tosses me aside and I tumble to the ground. It gives me a good chance to look around and see where exactly we are and where the so-called ‘abandoned’ fae are. I fake a pain in my arm, but don’t exaggerate. Donovan is too smart to think I’m that weak.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement and know Sloane somehow followed us through. A warmth fills me, knowing he is here, but I’m also afraid for his safety. And a little pissed he didn’t listen. And the tiniest bit curious if he is here for me, or for Donovan. But the last thought lasts for less than zero-point-two seconds.
Every molecule in my body—my blood cells, my bones, even my hair—completely trusts him at this point. For him to risk being here … that speaks volumes. I’m glad that his power and thoughts will be sent toward me, and not toward his supposed friend. Great for me, but not good for Sloane if Donovan finds him out.
As I stand up, I know I am grounded in Avalon; my senses are keen as can be. I feel the kindness and purity of the faeries’ presence in The Edge. They are due east, just behind Donovan. Which is perfect. I can back him up into them.
As happy as I am to know things are going to plan, the familiar pile of rocks has made its way back into my stomach.
After Donovan gets some ridiculous stretching out of the way (which makes it hard for me not to laugh at him as I watch) and he has searched the perimeter—albeit a short, superficial search since he finds neither Sloane nor the hidden fae—he comes back at me, ready for a fight.
I stand my ground, just as ready as he is. Even more so, in fact.
But I still need a bit of reassurance. I ask Sloane, “So it all comes down to this? Me in my new black death gear fighting Andrew Hopkins to save the world. This cannot be reality!”
“It is, babe. I know you’ve been through a lot but I’m here if anything goes wrong. No one but you can do this. And you can do this. I have nothing but faith.”
I silently send thoughts of love, knowing I cannot talk to Sloane anymore until this is over, all the while feeling my heart crush with the gravity of what I am about to do. Sloane has never been human. Nor a child, no less—not in the sense that I was and these other human children are. What can he possibly know? I can’t do this…
But then Donovan, for I can’t possibly ever think of him again as the Andrew I just thought of, surrounds himself with a light mist as he changes into the creature he possesses—or is working with. Or maybe has even eaten. Or whatever is going on. I still don’t know for sure, but it doesn’t much matter at this point.
When he reappears fully, I almost retch at the sight of him. Even though I have seen him before, he—it—isn’t anything one could, or should, get used to. I’m damned proud of Hollie for keeping it together while drawing him earlier.
My eyes, sharp in the night, dart around for any hidden Depraved. If Sloane made it through, who knows what else is here. But both my eyes and my soul tell me it is just me and Donovan—joined with the creature, alone to the finish. Bile creeps up my esophagus but I swallow it down, a sick part of me enjoying the taste―enjoying this disgusting evil.
I start to push these feelings out of my mind. This can’t be me. I am not dark and grotesque like this sick creep. But then I think better of it—I embrace the emotions. I want to feel the way he does. Fight his way and play dirty. It’s the only way out alive.
Reassuring thoughts are always great before a confrontation, but the fact that my life depends on these thoughts and confidence only makes the rocks weigh fifty pounds more. I use this strange form of nausea to my advantage as well, remembering that adrenaline is power. It is my body’s way of preparing for this battle.
“So you’ve figured out how to block minds. Good for you. It won’t help you much, but I must say I’m proud.” Donovan tells me this like I actually care what he thinks.
Viciousness I didn’t know I had comes pouring out of me. “Shut the hell up, you stupid piece of shit!” I lift my chin in defiance. “Yeah, I learned how, but so what? It’s practically a parlor trick. I am capable of much more, so don’t you dare talk down to me. I’m not what you think.”
“My, my. The lamb has a bite. And I thought the outfit was just for show. Could the changeling really have grown into what her precious mother believed? I don’t think I’ll believe it until I see it. But it should make for an interesting time here. In these woods. Alone. Just you and me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? We’d better be alone! This is between us and that’s it. If anyone else gets hurt, I swear…” I drift off as my thoughts about my role in this take over. Who am I to demand that of him with all the innocents about to get hurt?
“It has to be done. Stop thinking that way. You are not Alexis Hodge. You never were, not really, and you know that. You are my kick ass Kellyn and you are going to rock this! Now stop thinking negatively and do what you were born to do.”
“Interesting. And what, pray tell, are you going to rock? Tsk, tsk, Kellyn. You’ve kept me out of your thoughts but I can hear that traitor clear as day. Now I know how he found you so easily. Tell him I said hello, won’t you? That is, if you get the chance.”
“Of course. I’ll be sure to. And knowing Sloane, he’ll walk right up to your grave and spit on it once I’m finished with you.”
Donovan throws his head back and laughs. As he revels in the hysteria, he begins to grow.
Fuck, no time for more witty chatter. Crap. Shit. OK. I can do this. I need to clear my head and not think. Just do!
I shake my shoulders and arms a bit to rid myself of any weak thoughts and to force myself fully into the moment. With a simple flick, spikes pop out all the way down my arms, through the leather sleeves. I consider conjuring up some brass knuckles, but all I need is the look. I shouldn’t go overboard. My strength is fierce. Plus brass—probably not the best idea… All I need is power. Power and blood.
More specifically, Donovan’s blood. Sloane’s will help make me strong for the fight, and it definitely helped me overtake the ‘driving’ of the portal, but Donovan’s will cure next to all. Enable me to make sure the horrid evil in him—the one he appears as now—will never be unbound again. Damn the rules. Damn the history. With my mother’s help, I am making new history—following what should be to a ‘T.’ The prophecy is the future whether this nasty thing in front of me likes it or not.
I kick the ground a few times and walk toward my enemy. Not an ounce of fear passes into what I allow him to see. I won’t back down, no matter how large he grows. And in this circumstance, pretenses are everything. I won’t need any of the cool ass gear I wore to this showdown, but he sure doesn’t know that.
Reaching around my back, I pull my sword out of its sheath and hold it as if I am about to fence. The gorgeous metal glints, even in the dark. It is now or never.
I lunge forward and slice through a good inch or so of Donovan’s arm. Yelping, he stumbles back, obviously not ready to fight quite yet. He must have expected more flash from the new and improved version of me that he is up against.
There is no sense wasting time. This is a fight that will never come if things go according to my plan. This is all the contact we need. Plus, I don’t know exactly how much time I have.
I duck off to the side, away from Donovan and against a tree, and then run a gloved hand over the sword’s blade. Sloane cut the fingertips off my gloves—for looks, I had guessed when I first saw them, but it now makes sense. All four fingers on my left hand are smeared with Donovan’s blood. It’s all I can do to make myself pause before licking the first finger.
But Donovan is coming at me. And he looks a lot more than just pissed. I br
ing my hand up to my mouth. My tongue can taste the blood before I even lick my fingers. But once I do, the blood is gone in less than a second. No time for enjoyment. But the quickness of its disappearance shows how enjoyable it was.
Power flashes through me—a surge of energy spreads from my stomach to my veins. When I stopped and thought about it earlier, it made no sense, but it’s so overwhelming when it happens that there isn’t time to think. I toss the sword aside. The air grows chilly as I step forward. Wind picks up dried leaves and tosses them about in a frenzy.
Donovan stops, not having reached me yet, so I have a second to think about this and I find it rather odd. He is fast enough to have made it to me by now. But he stopped and is looking around at what is occurring. He isn’t moving any closer to me but I, on the other hand, have no problem pushing into his space, going after him. The elemental power I sensed I had control over when the air moved while in Hollie’s bedroom—that wasn’t a fluke I misread. Even without ‘real’ air here, I can make the wind do what I desire. I know nothing about it specifically but it’s obviously a strong power. And oh, how I relish it.
Stuck in place, blankness sweeps over Donovan’s dragon-like features. Not a chance he was ever human. The only reason I am about to show him any form of mercy is because I have lived as a human for so long. I am positive that even centuries of being a faery will never take that away from me.
“Sit,” I demand of Donovan. “And I mean now. This isn’t going to be the fight you planned. I have something different in store for tonight. Something you’re going to enjoy, surprisingly enough.”
I pause, and walk in a slow circle around the beast, taking in all of his hideousness. Such an ugly inside is bound to come out physically in the faery realm, no matter how powerful one’s control over glamour is. None of Donovan’s beauty shows through and, combined with the creature, well—it isn’t a sight I ever hope to see again.
The monstrous creature has definitely taken over at this point, but I still feel D inside—hiding from both me and the creature—so he is who I speak to. It is he who decided to trap the evil inside of himself and so deserves to hear and see—and better yet, feel—what’s happening. And what is going to happen.
“I’m about to do you a huge favor. And with your power mixed with mine, there won’t be any stopping me.”
I raise a devious eyebrow for a second, pretending to care whether or not he is intrigued. But then I glare and grit my teeth when I continue speaking. “So I’m not kidding when I say, ‘Sit.’” My teeth grind against each other as I command Donovan.
He falls forward to his knees, yet somehow manages to lean his weight back onto a log, landing on his butt—if you can call it that—without toppling over.
He does exactly as he is told, as if under hypnosis. But that power isn’t necessary. Not with the strength of multiple fae inside of me – Sloane’s, Donovan’s, and all that my mother gave me of her own … and then mine to top it off, like a cherry on a sundae. I am no longer the helpless baby this nasty creature left for dead years ago. Compulsion, along with other faery magic, comes naturally to me—especially right now with my emotions running so high.
I stand in front of Donovan-slash-the-creature, now that the monstrosity is sitting. I pace back and forth, loving that I can give him a piece of my mind.
“So you enjoy feeding off others weaker than you?” Nodding, I think about things from his, or rather their, view. “I suppose I can understand that because man, the rush I have off of your blood right now―wow! Indescribable. But you see, I had to hurt you to get the high, right? You didn’t like that part so much … being on the receiving end?”
Donovan bows his head, unable to look me in the eye, and slightly shakes his enormous snout back and forth.
Practicing this on Hollie was one thing but I honestly never expected it to be so freaking easy on this asshole. Yeah, I know I’m strong but I’m barely trying here. It must be because I am in Avalon. I keep waiting for Donovan to jump up and attack me, even with all the confidence I have—and all the blood inside of me. But I certainly am not about to complain. I just need to get the job done and get the hell out of dodge.
“It doesn’t take a genius to figure out you subsist off emotions. Namely, human emotions. How pathetic is it that you can’t even feel anything on your own? I’m a faery and I have more emotions than I can deal with, so I just don’t get it. How are you so dead inside, so evil, that you have to steal from others not even of your kind?”
I stop talking for a good minute here, but not for effect. It’s because I seriously do not understand and it sickens me. But again, time is a huge factor here so I can’t dwell on this now.
“Another interesting fact I learned is that you love to feed off of other fae, which is even more despicable than feeding on humans.” I resist the urge to spit at him and stick only to the plan. “No matter―I’ve found the perfect feast for you. Bet you didn’t expect that to fall into your lap―least of all from me, huh?”
Donovan lifts his head up and sits in confusion, looking at me with the creature’s eyes. His gravelly voice comes out. “Why? How?”
“Why?” I shrug, half unsure of the reason myself, only knowing that I cannot doubt my mother. Not after what she gave up for me. “It suits both of our interests, in one twisted way or another. It does suck for me—I'm losing a good amount in this deal … but that should make you feel great. Along with the fact that you only have something to gain. I guess what makes me happy about the plan is that my friends won’t lose any more than they already have―human or fae.”
“So what do I have to do?” He isn’t capable of saying much more than the words it takes to answer my questions. This sounds like a particularly difficult phrase for him.
“That part is easy as pie. Humans taught me that phrase.” I tilt my head and smile at how lucky I’ve been to love and be loved by such amazing people. Then I nod and lift my eyebrows. “They taught me a lot, in fact. I would sincerely thank you for keeping me alive so long, but you know I can’t give thanks. It’s too rude.”
Leaning down toward him turns my stomach but I cannot let him know I’m afraid. “And besides, I really don’t want to. Because you don’t even come close to deserving it. Unless I simply want to be rude, but I have better things to do.” I stand back up and take a couple of steps away—far enough to escape his rotten stench, glad that not all of The Depraved smell so horrible.
I raise my right arm toward him, stretched straight out, only my palm twisted to the side. With a flick of my wrist, I usher Donovan to my left, compelling him to move.
Donovan stands and waits for me to pass him before he even attempts a step. I head over to the centaurs at the gate of The Edge, which is fairly far away, but the fae in me takes over. I neither try to speed nor do I know how fast my movements are—I simply find myself standing next to the cool giants only a second after I glance at them. I check over my shoulder to ensure I am being followed and nod when I see the monster is close behind. Then I straighten my shoulders yet again, which seems to be taking over my habit of breathing in for strength—I do it without thinking, and I begin to pass through the gate.
Avoiding the gaze of the two towering guards is difficult, but I can’t risk becoming lost in a state of awe so I look down slightly as I make my way past them. Plus, I have to follow through with the plan and need no judgment from anyone or anything at such an important time. I have to focus—keep my mind only on what my mother instructed.
Once through, I stop to allow Donovan to catch up. I turn my head around so he can hear me.
“Now this is the simple part.”
I just hope the definition of simple here doesn’t translate to ‘impossible.’
My heart starts beating like a bass drum and my palms begin to sweat. Having a plan and knowing if it is going to work are two completely different things. I simply have to have faith and trust in myself and my power. And keep my mother close to my heart.
Don
ovan notices the lights and cocks his head to the side at the sound of the melodies coming from all corners of The Edge. Yet he makes no move to go toward any of it—still under my control.
It is time to release him, though. “Go. Do as you please. I promise on my mother’s grave I will not stop you.”
He turns and looks at me, but only for a brief second. He appears confused, as much as a hateful face can express confusion, but obviously doesn’t care about my reasoning for what is happening here. The creature inside of Donovan understands where we are and what I am allowing him. He makes a mad dash to the first faery he set eyes on, feeding off its purity and fear.
While the darling faeries scream and cry for themselves and their families, I focus on blocking out the horrific sounds. I walk over to a set of bushes and crouch down behind them, hoping Donovan is occupied enough not to notice me.
Out of the side of my tall boot, I pull the handful of bones Landon gave me just before he went home with Zoë. Setting them down on the ground in front of me, I prepare myself for the task at hand by conjuring temporary strength.
I wish I had been able to do this earlier, before fighting Donovan—even before leaving the human realm, but Landon said it would have made me too tired afterward, and I most likely would not be able to do this most important part. The end of it all.
Kneeling down, not an easy task in tight, sticky leather, I put my hands on my thighs and block out sights along with the sounds when I squeeze my eyes shut.
Using the discomfort of my clothing as an advantage, I tense up and tighten every muscle in my body. Concentrating as hard as possible, I faintly say, “As-carini-a-no-n-as.” Part of me wonders if it can seriously be as simple as saying a weird word like ‘ascerinianonas.’
The answer arrives as a flash of power shooting through me. Not much time is left. The spell only lasts a few, short minutes.
Not having wanted to bring more with me than would fit in my clothes, I swiftly conjure up a black marble table to use as an altar, and then I imagine three black pillar candles on top of it. They appear in the blink of an eye. Next comes a large mortar and pestle.
I blow out what would be air anywhere else in the world―instead, it results in the candles all aflame.
Now I am prepared to start the ritual. I feel my power deep within me. I know I am doing what is right, no matter how hard it may be.
With this act, all realms will be free of the evil forever—just as the rhyme says. I only hope Donovan won’t notice the faint light from the candles and come over and find me. No matter―I have to stop thinking and just do. Be quick.
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts of anything but the creature and the ritual, I hold the bones in my hand and begin whispering, finally proud that my great memory will be serving a purpose.
Ashes to ashes, Dust to dust
Twist and bend the bones to bust
I scatter these bones, these bones full of my rage…
With this line, I lay out the small skeletal remains on the ground in front of me—my confidence growing.
…Take them as an offering
To bring my enemy pain
I see thy enemy before me now…
From the back of my pants, I retrieve the picture Hollie drew of the creature and I smooth it out on the table in front of the candles. I then pick up the bones from the grass and place them in the mortar. Grabbing the pestle with my right hand, I hold the bowl tightly with my other. I continue to speak, ever so softly, staring at the drawing all the while.
…I bind him, crush him, and knock him down
With these bones I now do crush
Grind thy enemy into dust
With the eternal fires out of control
With this curse I take thy soul!
When the curse of olde has ended
Let all that has gone wrong be mended…
This is my will … let it be done.
I stop the grinding, but keep my focus on the picture, allowing hatred to erupt out of my heart and penetrate through my gaze. But only for a moment. It is all I have.
Forcing myself to relax, I use the knowledge that deep down, my power is enough.
I am strong enough for this to work, my petty doubts barely seconds ago were just that—petty thoughts.
And even better, I believe in this curse.
The evil creature will be defeated. There is no doubt in any part of my being. As for Donovan, well I suppose we will find out at some point. Probably sooner than later, unfortunately. But I have done all I can for now and it should be all that is needed. Donovan himself is not a problem. Or at least I can hope…
Grabbing the bowl and picture, I wish away the altar. I rise to my feet and glimpse Donovan attacking something in a shrub.
Knowing what he is doing brings up bile, yet again, but I spit it out and crumple up the drawing in my fist to keep from crying out. I grip the giant mortar tightly against my stomach with my other hand and forearm.
I walk over to the edge of the grass and follow the tree line toward the gates.
It will all be reborn and renewed. Through imagination and dreams. I have to believe it will. The new moon is coming soon and this horrible mess will be over.
With all the willpower I can muster and tears in my eyes, I walk away from The Edge of Avalon, leaving Donovan—or rather the creature inside, to his heart’s desire.
Dropping the mortar and pestle to the ground, I rush into Sloane’s waiting arms, almost knocking the sword off my hip and down to the ground, but I don’t much care. I had no doubt he would be here. He will never let me down, having the same devotion as my mother.
As we walk away from the destruction behind us—destruction I know is for the greater good—I hear that song by Pixies that plays at the end of Fight Club. It loops through my head and I feel a comforting, yet crazy, buzz of confidence. Even without my mind fully intact after the past couple of days, I know that this is a new beginning for all.
But it doesn’t take long. Across the world, the dreams of children simply begin to fade to shades of grey.