“Why do you need to save Eritopia?”
“It’s not just me,” I replied. “There are more with me, Oracles, incubi, succubi, a Druid, my friends, the Dearghs outside this room. We all need to save Eritopia.”
“Why are you here?”
I thought that one over for a second, convinced I’d already answered.
“I’m here for the book, I told you.”
“Why do you want the book?”
It sounded a little too repetitive for my frayed nerves. I took a deep breath.
“Because I need to save Eritopia.”
“Why you?”
I sighed, beginning to understand why Inon had mentioned patience as a prerequisite to obtaining the book.
“Because it had to be me.”
A moment passed before the voice sounded again in my head, like a distant memory.
“What will you give in return for the book?”
“Whatever I can.”
“That is not enough.”
“Then what do you want from me?”
“What are you willing to give?”
I ran my fingers through my hair. It seemed I was in for a long ride.
Serena
I spent a long time doing this back and forth with the box. I was thirsty, hungry, and pacing the room nervously, answering the same string of questions over and over, leading me to the same ending.
I was exhausted. It had been so long that I dozed off on the floor between questions, but I couldn’t tell for how many hours. I woke up, realizing that I was still stuck in the chamber with the black diamond box staring down at me, patiently waiting for my answers. And I tried again and again and again. My eyes stung, my head hurt, and the more time passed, the more drained I felt.
I struggled with different emotional stages, from anger and frustration to hopelessness and despair. I raked my brain for reasonable arguments to convince the box to open, but it didn’t respond. It threw me for yet another loop.
In the absence of a clock, it felt like time had deliberately slowed down, just to make things worse.
“What are you willing to give in return for the book?”
I had promised fealty, favors, my own blood, anything that could get me closer to getting that book out of that wretched black diamond box. But it wouldn’t budge. All roads ended here.
“What are you willing to give in return for the book?”
“Again, I ask, what do you want me to give in return for the book? Name your price!”
“This is not about what I want. It’s about what you want to give. How much is Eritopia worth to you?”
“It’s a world full of creatures who deserve to live. What value can I place on an entire world?!”
“Do you want Eritopia to live?”
“Yes,” I sighed.
“Give me a reason.”
“Because everyone deserves a chance at life, and it shouldn’t be determined by a monster like Azazel. He has no right to do what he’s doing.”
“Why do you want Eritopia to live? It’s not your world, is it?”
I scoffed. Deep inside, I understood the point that the box, as annoyingly sentient as it seemed, was trying to make.
“I don’t have to belong to this world to want to save it. Life is precious everywhere and in all of its forms.”
A long silence followed, as if it waited for a more complete answer.
“If I don’t save Eritopia, my own planet will perish. The death of Eritopia means the death of everyone and everything I hold dear,” I said.
A beat.
“So, then, what are you willing to sacrifice in order to save Eritopia?” The words were the same, but the tone was deeper now, as if it was only now getting serious.
I started considering the grim options, which I had avoided entirely throughout the time I’d been in that chamber. But it seemed as though I was running out of time, and desperate measures were due. I thought about what I could live without, and my stomach churned painfully.
“You can have my eyesight,” I said.
“Your eyesight to save a world? Do you feel that’s enough?”
“My arms. My legs. My voice. You pick! Just take something!”
“This is not a meat market. You don’t just offer up a piece of yourself thinking it will get you what you want. It does not work like that. What are you willing to give in return for the book? What is the absolute value that you place on its use toward saving Eritopia?”
“It’s essential to saving Eritopia!”
“Is it worth just your eyesight. Or a finger? Or your leg?”
It dawned on me then that I wasn’t being entirely honest with myself. I knew, deep down, that the book was worth more than I was willing to give, even if that included my limbs or any of my senses. It was probably worth more than I was.
More time passed in utter silence, as I gradually succumbed to a new feeling. I despised that box. It made me queasy.
“What do you think is the right price for the book?” I tried again.
“I cannot tell you that. You must tell me. What will you give in return for the book?”
I caved in, overwhelmed by desperation. I fell to my knees, letting out all the anger and fear that had been mounting inside of me since the first day I had set foot in Eritopia. I had pushed it all back, focusing on anything else that would get me through to the next day.
But I couldn’t do it any longer. Not like that. My anguished cry echoed through the chamber.
I had to face the hard and painful truth. A sacrifice would have to be made for this.
I had to be ready to give anything and everything in order to bring down Azazel and save my brother, my friends, and the billions both in this world and mine.
“I will give anything… I will sacrifice everything, even myself, if you release the book so my friends can use it to rid Eritopia of the disease that is Azazel.”
Hot tears streamed down my cheeks. I had been in here for so long, I would either die of starvation or die getting that book out of its box. Whichever way this went, I braced myself for my own end. Resignation was not something I’d ever been used to, but when it came, I felt enlightened. I barely recognized myself.
“I’m ready to give my life for a greater purpose.” I sighed, leaning forward and shuddering from crying hiccups.
“You are willing to sacrifice yourself to save Eritopia?”
“Yes… Yes, I am… I truly am…”
An excruciatingly long second passed before the box finally replied.
“What about the Druid?”
“What… What?”
I blinked several times and stood, my mind blank and eyes stinging.
“How will he live without you?” the box asked.
What did it know? How much did it know? What was the purpose of such a question?
“What do you know about the Druid?” I replied, squinting my eyes.
“How will he live without you?”
“You didn’t answer my question!”
“I’m not here to answer your question. You are here to answer mine.”
I wasn’t going to win this one.
I took a deep breath and went for complete honesty, suspecting that the box could read my mind. It was already tuned to my honesty, given the long winding road that had led me up to this moment.
“Neither I nor Draven matter much in the face of the darkness that is about to swallow Eritopia. The Druid will have to live on without me if need be.”
“Are you sure he will be able to live on without you?”
“What kind of question is that?! He will have to!”
I choked on another wave of tears and swallowed as much of it back as I could. My heart was torn and twisted, my stomach in a lot of pain, my lips dry and crusty.
There comes a point when one accepts the inevitable fate drawn out before them, my father had once said to me. I saw him clearly in my mind, alongside my mother, my grandparents, and our entire family back in The Shade.<
br />
At least they didn’t know I existed. At least they wouldn’t suffer.
“Just end it already and kill me. Give us the book.”
Silence.
I let out another sigh, feeling my shoulders slump. The prospect of dying wasn’t something I was comfortable with, not in the least. But if I was to go, I’d go on my terms.
“Just kill me! I’m ready! Kill me!”
“Your willingness to sacrifice yourself for something greater than your own desires is what will bring you victory. Only in the face of death does one see that. There comes a point when one accepts the inevitable fate drawn out before them—”
“—and that is where true strength lies. In sacrifice.” I completed the box’s sentence.
I was stunned. How was it quoting my father?
The box clicked again, and the front side fell forward on the black marble surface. It granted me access to the book.
I stood there, breathing heavily as I reviewed everything that I had said and heard in that chamber, retracing every step that had led me to this point. I had no idea what I had gotten myself into walking in, but, as relief of cosmic proportions washed over me, I realized that I knew exactly what I was walking out to.
I reached out and took the book with trembling fingers, caressing its leather cover and smelling the musky pages inside. I cried again, this time tears of joy and relief, understanding that it had all been a test to prove my strength.
A cruel, but effective test. My mind was clear, and my heart was stronger than I had thought.
I heard the wall slide behind me with a long crackling sound.
I turned around and saw Inon standing at the back of the tunnel. Hansa and Bijarki sat on the floor. Draven was slumped on the side in front of a small oil lamp. Its flame flickered timidly in the semi-darkness. They looked exhausted, and I wondered how long they’d been there.
At the sound of the wall clicking open, they all looked up. Draven was the first to dart up and run at me. His beautiful eyes filled with tears as he took me in his arms and squeezed me. His breath was ragged, and his voice was raw. I dropped the book.
“I thought you were dead,” he gasped, tightening his grip while his hands ran up and down my back, as if desperate to feel every inch of me.
I melted in his arms, overcome by a million emotions at once. I saw Hansa and Bijarki beaming at me, a tear rolling down the succubus’s cheek. She quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand. A chief could not be seen crying, I figured.
“You’ve been in there for two days, Serena,” Draven’s voice poured into my ears, soothing my soul. “I’ve tried everything I possibly could to get you out of there. All the magic in the world couldn’t work… I…I tried…I even tried brute force. Nothing worked…”
There was so much pain in his voice that it hurt me to hear it. He had suffered enough, helpless on the other side of the wall. I responded to his embrace and sighed with all the air that my lungs could gather and moaned softly against his broad chest.
I had missed him. I had missed his strength, his hardness, his soft voice.
He pulled back to look at me, his eyes blinking black, his gray irises glimmering with a mixture of pain and happiness and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on. His gaze softened, and his lips crashed down on mine. He kissed my mouth hard, then my cheeks, my forehead, the tip of my nose. He dropped a hundred kisses all over my face, settling over my lips again for a deeper experience.
I opened myself up to him and took it all in.
“I’m so sorry, Serena,” he whispered between kisses. “I was foolish to think I could live without feeling you in my arms, against my skin, on my lips… Please, forgive me.”
I burst into tears. I was so weak; my knees gave out as he held me up. Thirst, hunger, and a million other feelings all crashed down on me at once. I gripped his shirt and cried into his chest, letting it all out—all the pain, the anguish I had felt in his absence, the grief I’d experienced in front of imminent death, all of it. I breathed it all out, sob after sob.
“Don’t leave me again, Draven,” I whimpered. “Don’t push me away like that again.”
He groaned and scooped me up in his arms. I felt so light and limp.
I rested my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes.
I was finally free.
Serena
I passed out as soon as Draven picked me up in his arms. They shook me back to consciousness, enough for me to eat a few pieces of bread and drink some water. I fell asleep after that.
I peeled my eyes open a few hours later. I was lying in a makeshift bed of animal furs with soft leaves underneath, a fire burning close to me. Bijarki had set up camp inside one of the caves that the Dearghs had offered us for shelter.
I saw him sitting by the fire next to Anjani and Draven.
I tried to move, but I was too drowsy, so I decided to keep still and listen. My body was weakened to the point where not even food or water could help. I’d have to syphon off someone soon to regain my strength.
Draven was looking through the book, amber flames throwing a playful light against the shadows beneath his cheeks. I felt warmth flowing through my body at the sight of him, my heart blossoming and expanding like a star, burning everything in its path.
“From what I can tell,” he mused while flipping the pages, “the spells are incomplete. I get the feeling that the three books that the swamp witches made work together or don’t work at all.”
“So, they’re useless if taken separately,” Hansa concluded, chewing on a piece of dried meat.
“Indeed. The witches were the brightest of Eritopia for a long time before Azazel found a way to wipe them out,” Draven replied.
“In that case, we need to go back to my tribe and get the second book.”
“We need to get there fast, though,” Bijarki interjected. “It’s a long walk from here.”
“The Dearghs can give us some of their horses. They run wild all around the mountain,” Hansa replied.
Draven glanced over to me and saw me awake. His expression softened, and he set the book aside and came over to check on me.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low.
I gave him a weak smile, and he lay down in front of me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I wondered what Hansa and Bijarki were thinking at the sight of us. Draven held me tight, and I relaxed against his body, feeling his heartbeat against the palms of my hands.
“I’m not letting go of you again, just so we are clear,” he whispered and dropped a hot kiss on my forehead.
“I feel weak,” I mumbled.
He looked down at me, concern drawing a frown on his beautiful face.
“You can feed off me, Serena. I need you at full strength.”
Our eyes met, and I felt my soul open up before him. I cupped his face in my hands, giving in to the sentry hunger, and drew all the energy that he offered. Ribbons of gold flowed into me, replenishing my body better than any slice of bread. I felt all of Draven pouring into me. Warmth and affection filled my chest. I closed my eyes.
I tasted bliss as I drifted off to sleep.
Serena
I woke up fully refreshed and feeling ready to take on the whole world. Draven’s seemingly endless supply of heady and sunny energy had brought me back to life and had even given me an extra kick, like a cup of deliciously hot coffee.
We galloped through the jungle, riding the gorgeous mustangs that the Dearghs had summoned for us. They were graceful creatures with incredible strength and stamina, and they seemed to fly across the many miles between Mount Inon and the Red Tribe.
It took us a few hours, but as the sun settled at the highest point in the sky, we saw the limestone wall about a hundred yards away, that little bit of swamp witch magic that kept the succubi camp hidden from the rest of the world.
My horse raced graciously alongside Draven’s, and we occasionally glanced at each other, exchanging a thousand unspoken words along th
e way. Whatever I was feeling for him, it would only get stronger. His energy was addictive. His touch sent me spiraling toward ecstasy each time. I craved the feeling of his lips on mine, and I relished each gaze he directed at me. I swooned over the man he was, his strength, his insecurity, his knowledge, and his power. I adored how we delighted and annoyed each other, how the smallest of moments could draw us even closer to one another.
Whatever this was brewing between us, it was just beginning, and I smiled. I knew for sure that I wanted more. I wanted everything.
As our horses reached the limestone wall, I was hit by a sudden feeling of uneasiness.
Something felt wrong. Horribly wrong.
The wall was torn down, chunks of stone scattered all around.
The succubi camp fanned out beyond, still and quiet, thick black columns of smoke rising from multiple fires.
“NO!” Hansa shouted and jumped off her horse.
I felt queasy as I got off and walked toward the scene in front of us. Draven and Bijarki followed.
Hansa jumped over the broken limestone and ran into her camp. A tragedy unraveled in front of us. Dozens of succubi lay dead on the ground, arrows and swords sticking out of their bodies. Silver blood glazed the dark red grass. Tents had burned down.
The smell was unbearable, a mixture of charred flesh and burnt hair.
My stomach turned, and I felt a wave of nausea taking over. I struggled to walk forward.
Draven came next to me, his arm stretching to keep me close. I leaned into him and looked at every single element that was part of the horrific composition. Bijarki ran ahead, looking for survivors.
The camp had been attacked. I recognized the arrows stuck in some of the succubi. Destroyer arrows. They had found the Red Tribe somehow, and they’d had no interest in leaving any prisoners.
Hansa found one of her generals barely alive, her stomach riddled with Destroyer arrows. She fell on her knees and pulled her sister’s head onto her lap, her face pained and lower lip trembling uncontrollably.
“Who did this?!” Hansa asked the dying succubus, who kept coughing silver blood.
A Meet of Tribes Page 20
