by Hanna Peach
“You will find a way to save Israel.” What if their confidence in her was misplaced? She was just a young warrior. Expert in the hundred ways to kill a man, not save him.
What should she do? What could she do?
Ana − Ana, who may have been their best hope for saving him − was so destroyed over the loss of Ky, her only son, that she could barely function.
And Adere, the reason for Israel’s condition, was allowed to just wallow in her own self-pity.
It was all up to her.
Her soul ached for Israel. He was the only thing that could make her feel better. She remembered how Israel had just held her the last time that she fell apart, when she had learned that Michael had killed her mother. Israel had held her while she broke down. God, how she needed him now. She needed him now but… Suddenly a wave of fury overcame her.
“Why aren’t you here?” she screamed to the empty tunnel. Her knees gave out and she slid to the ground. She didn’t know what to do, or how to fix things. And the thing she needed most she was about to lose. Or maybe he was already lost. The emptiness left behind from their broken bond throbbed in her heart.
Alyx hugged her knees to her chest, not caring that the dampness was soaking through her clothes. She began to sob. The dark tunnel blurred behind her tears as she withdrew into her well of pain, her thoughts only on Israel. She remembered how he looked at her, how he made her feel like she was soaring. She pretended his hands were on her. Like a warm cloth on a chill, it soothed her somewhat, and her sobbing soon faded into heavy breathing and the occasional intake of breath.
She thought she felt his presence appear like a ghost before her. “Israel?” she whispered. Alyx retreated further into her memories until they consumed her. She let herself believe that Israel was really there with her. She rolled onto her back and felt him press down onto her. He dipped his head to kiss her. Then he buried his face in her neck. Past his shoulder she saw the painted angel flying across the ceiling of the abandoned theatre that they had once called home.
“Angel,” she heard him whisper. “My dark angel.” She moaned. Her fingers gripped at the damp ground as she felt his breath on her cheek.
A woman’s voice, a soft shushing, broke through her memory. Alyx became vaguely aware of a blurred figure leaning down over her. She felt a hand stroking her forehead. Immediately she felt a pull. Alyx resisted. This pull wanted to take away all the love she felt for Israel, all these loving memories linked in her mind like the chain of a cherished necklace.
“Let go, my child,” she heard the soft voice cooing.
“Mother?” Alyx mumbled, squinting at the ghostly figure. No, it wasn’t her mother. Her delirium was causing her to imagine things.
“Just let go,” the apparition whispered.
Just let go. Words so familiar, so comforting. Alyx began to comply. The love she had for Israel began to pull from her mind. She almost tugged it back, but it was taking her pain. Pain that she didn’t have the energy to carry anymore. Yes. Please take the pain away.
Alyx let it go.
Everything faded to black.
Chapter 2
“Where are you, Israel?”
Israel heard her voice, lighting across his darkness like a shooting star. But he couldn’t see her. Alyx. His angel. Where was his angel?
Where was he?
This was a strange place − wherever this was. This place held the absence of color. An absence of light. Except when she called his name.
Israel moved towards the voice’s origin. But then he reached a point where he couldn’t move any farther. There was something stopping him. He pressed against this invisible wall.
Their bond. He could reach her with their bond. He closed his eyes and held the image of Alyx’s face in his mind, every curve and lash defined. Lord only knew how often he had studied her face when she wasn’t aware of it. When he opened his eyes he would see his angel.
His heart leapt in anticipation as his eyelids snapped open. But this time she was not there.
“Please,” her voice was a whisper, “please come back to me.”
“Alyx?” he called out. “I’m here.” That’s when he noticed that the warmth he felt whenever she was around was gone. Gone?
As her voice faded, so did he.
Chapter 3
Alyx blinked. The dark roof curved above her. Underneath her side was damp and slimy. A chill oozed though her. She frowned, trying to clear her head. Where was she?
She sat up as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. She was in the tunnels near the Saint’s Revenge.
She frowned. Something felt off. She took a deep breath and placed a hand to her chest. Something felt…missing. An odd hollow void sat within her. Hollow…she was used to feeling hollow, but this…this was different somehow…
Why was she on the ground? Alyx struggled to piece together her last memories… Adere, she had been going to see Adere. Alyx remembered being so angry. The memories of her fingers on her knife made her flush with shame. But why had she been so angry? She had been almost insane with anger.
Israel…her bonded. That’s right. He was dying from poison that was meant for Adere. Thankfully Xiang had stopped Alyx from resorting to torture. Alyx frowned. She had been scared for Israel. She didn’t want him to die.
If he dies, I die.
I must be scared of dying. Alyx felt her skin grow cold. She had never really contemplated her own death. Even though as a warrior she knew that her immortal life could end in battle, she never feared death. Or perhaps it had been because she hadn’t really cared about her own life. Not caring had made her fearless. But now… Alyx let the memory of her desperation to save Israel roll around in her mind. It shamed her. She had never feared for anything so much in her life.
Coward, she snarled at herself. What kind of warrior are you to be afraid of death? Pick yourself up and get on with it.
Alyx pushed herself up to her feet and brushed her clothes down. How would she get a cure for the demon poison? She didn’t even know what the poison was. She was never very good with herbs and the like. She had never even taken a basic class in herbs or medicines back in Michaelea. Those kinds of classes weren’t for warriors. The only times she had even seen herbs in use was with Mayrekk.
Mayrekk. The ruddy face of the Elder who lived on the outskirts of Michaelea came into her mind. Back in Michaelea, Alyx had followed Mayrekk through the forest around Michaelea while he collected plants and roots. He seemed to know the purpose and medicinal qualities of the whole forest.
Mayrekk will be able to tell me what the poison is, Alyx reassured herself. Mayrekk will have a cure. She just had to talk to him.
Jordan…she needed Jordan’s help.
Chapter 4
Alyx stood in front of the thick metal door of Saint Paul’s Cathedral. This late at night there wasn’t a mortal in sight. Lukas had said that she could find Jordan here; apparently he often came here to be alone.
She tested the door handle. It was locked. She scanned the building. Through the colored mosaic glass windows she could see a warm light shining from inside. Somebody was in there. Was it Jordan? There must be another way in.
She made her way around the cathedral, slipping through the shadows and passing the gardens surrounding the building. A tall fence overgrown with vines separated the rest of the world from the cathedral grounds. An ornate black iron gate near the back led to a street where a thrashing kind of music played loudly.
She noticed a small door, dark and undecorated unlike the rest of the cathedral, nudged into a recess of the façade. She tested the handle, not expecting anything. She was surprised when it turned easily in her hand. Frowning, she unsheathed her sword before slipping inside. She moved carefully through a short dark corridor before entering the main cathedral. The cavernous space was dimly lit by four white candles flickering on a candelabra atop the stone altar. From where she stood she couldn’t see Jordan.
She moved down the aisle towar
ds the front of the altar, her sword at the ready, not wanting to call out in case she alerted a mortal. As she neared the front of the cathedral she could see the candlelight falling across a body lying near the altar, face turned away. Alyx recognized Jordan’s muscular form.
“Jordan?” Alyx sheathed her sword and flew to his side. She leaned over him. His eyes were closed as if in sleep. His chest was still, unbreathing. This close she could feel the waves of DreamWalker magic rolling off his skin. Jordan was in a DreamWalker sleep. But seeing him so still, so like death, unnerved her. Should she wake him?
Jordan shifted. “No,” he growled. The strain in his voice caused prickles to shoot across Alyx’s neck. Was he in trouble? She had to help him. Alyx grabbed his broad shoulders with both her hands and shook him roughly.
“Wake up, Jordan,” she urged.
For a moment his body seemed to stiffen and the magic waving off him appeared to pause. Then, without warning, the magic swelled to consume her. Before she could react, she felt herself tumbling forward. And everything went black.
* * *
Alyx stood at the base of a grassy slope, looking up towards a cloud of smoke billowing out from a burning building. The air was filled with the char of wood and something sharply sweet. For a moment she thought she might be back at Aradale. But the landscape was different here. She felt a pang of familiarity course through her as she gazed across the nearby hills spared from the fire, covered with rows of curling vines. In an instant she knew that this DreamScape was a replica of Castelli del Grevepesa, the Florence community. It was then that she realized the sweet smell was of grapes.
Horror flushed in her. She turned her eyes to the burning building where Jordan and she were once welcomed in and helped by Belle and Luce. But this was just a DreamScape…wasn’t it? This couldn’t be real…
Alyx ran towards the fire. As she neared it she could make out two figures. A male and a female, clasping at each other. She recognized his wide shoulders and shoulder-length hair.
“Jordan,” she called out as she ran.
He turned slowly. He seemed to stagger. She neared enough to see his face. The tendons on his neck were sharp and strained, but his eyes… They were cold and dead, hollow orbs of green glass.
What had happened?
The other figure had turned as well. It was Belle, chief of the Florence community. She was grasping onto Jordan’s waist as if she couldn’t stand on her own. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her nose was running.
“You.” Belle’s face contorted when she saw Alyx. Belle tore her arms away from Jordan and her hands turned into claws. “This is all your fault!” she started screaming. “Look what you’ve done.”
Alyx froze, gasping for breath as she realized what must have happened. Samyara must have hidden a tracer on Fernando as he had done to Marin. His army must have traced Fernando to his community. And like Aradale, the Castelli del Grevepesa had been attacked and destroyed. This was what she was looking upon now; Belle’s memories leaking out to paint this DreamScape in a fiery landscape of horror.
Alyx remained stuck to the ground. This was all her fault. If Belle wanted to tear out her throat, Alyx wouldn’t stop her.
But before Belle could reach her, Jordan grabbed Belle and pulled her back against his chest. Alyx could hear him saying words in a language she didn’t understand. They sounded soothing, but the sterility in his voice was obvious to her.
Alyx stared at Belle, who sobbed incoherently in Jordan’s arms, the flaming building behind them blackening the sky. This was the ruins of her botched plan. How had she messed up so badly?
“Alyx.” Jordan’s strong voice broke through her thoughts. “You should leave. Now.”
Alyx nodded, blinking tears from her eyes.
Belle buried her face in Jordan’s chest. His hand rubbed slowly across her back, an automation. Even so, Alyx bit back a surge of…was this jealousy? Was it selfish of her to wish that Jordan was comforting her instead?
When he spoke to Alyx again his voice was softer. “Wait for me. I’ll be with you shortly.” Then he raised his palm to her and a cool pulse flooded her body.
Everything went white.
* * *
Alyx woke back up in the cathedral to find herself lying along something rigid and lumpy. She gasped when she realized that she had fallen on top of Jordan when she was pulled into the DreamScape. Placing her hands on the floor above his shoulders, she started to push herself up. She paused when she caught sight of his sleeping face. The candlelight basked his handsome features in warmth and turned the messy hair lying about his head into a golden halo.
Alyx found that she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his face. Something about Jordan looked…different. Clearer. Like she had been looking at him with gauze across her eyes until now.
How had she not noticed how gorgeously carved his features were before? Strong jaw dusted with stubble. Sharp cheekbones. Full, kissable lips. A warmth began to trickle into the void in her chest.
Alyx supported herself with her left arm and slowly reached out her right hand to brush the errant strands of hair off his forehead. His eyes snapped opened and he grabbed her wrist. Now it was his eyes that she couldn’t look away from. How had she not noticed how his thick lashes darkened his eyes?
His eyes focused on her and widened in surprise. His breath blew across her skin, making it tingle. He loosened his grip on her. Alyx pulled herself away and off of him, heat pricking at her cheeks, ready to explain away her closeness to him.
But he didn’t ask. He pushed himself up to a sitting position and slumped against the altar. He moved as if his body ached. Leaning his head back against the altar, he raised an arm across his eyes as if he were shielding them from the sun.
Alyx wanted to touch him, to comfort him, but…would he even want her to? Did he blame her, too? Like Belle did?
“Is Belle…?”
“Don’t worry about it. Belle is just upset. She has…we have all lost so much…” His voice trailed off.
Alyx felt the blood draining from her face when she realized his implication. Please, no. Had there been more deaths? Who else?
“Is everyone…okay?”
Jordan’s face darkened. “Fernando didn’t make it. He was already badly wounded...”
Alyx closed her eyes in a momentary prayer as she thought about this daring Rogue who had helped them with their Black Stone heist at the Galleria dell’ Belle Arti. He had volunteered to help them. He had faced bullets without flinching. He had been a brave warrior. She hoped he had gone somewhere better.
“And Rosa…” Jordan’s voice trailed off, the flash of guilt obvious in his eyes. Rosa and Jordan had been close. Had been.
He continued, his voice hollow, “The last time Rosa and I spoke…well, you remember.” Yes, she did. Rosa stormed off after Jordan had ended their relationship. “She was so angry at me. I just took for granted that she would eventually forgive me. I didn’t get a chance to say sorry. She died hating me.”
“Jordan, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, Alyx. This is war. People die. And more of us will die before this is over.”
Alyx stared at him, sure that her shock was evident on her face. How could he be so cold and callous about this? And she might have continued to believe this if she hadn’t caught that flutter of sadness behind his eyes, brief like the flap of a butterfly’s wings before it disappeared among the thorns.
He was pretending. Of course he was. Strong Jordan. Reliable Jordan. Always calm and cool, Jordan. God, how tiring it must be for him to keep this face up. To keep holding up the world around him without letting the strain show. She knew what this was like.
Alyx crawled forward so that she was so close to his side her thigh was along his. Slowly, she slipped her hands under his jaw and tilted up his face so that he couldn’t hide.
She kept holding his face with her hands. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“W
hat are you doing?” The strain was evident in his voice. Don’t let her see you break, Alyx could hear this in the silence between his words. He tried to pull her hands off him, tried to push her away. But she wouldn’t let up and she wouldn’t let him hide his eyes.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she just kept repeating.
Finally, Jordan’s face crumpled and his chin dropped. She felt the weight of his head as he accepted the gift of her support.
“You’re not alone. You don’t have to do this alone,” she said, using his own words on him. Words that had always made her feel better. “We’ll make him pay for what he did, Jordan. We will win this war. You and I.”
He reached out, pulled her into his lap and buried his face in the crook of her neck. He didn’t shake nor did he make any noise. He just gripped onto her as if his life depended on it. As if he was a drowning man and she was his lifeline. Alyx put her arms around him and closed her eyes.
As she breathed him in, a calm crept over her. The strange void in her chest continued to fill with warmth.
Alyx wasn’t sure how long they stayed there against the altar, him still as death, her stroking his hair, neither of them saying anything. Slowly, his grip on her loosened.
Finally, he pulled back from her. “What are you doing here, beauty? Were you looking for me?”
Alyx nodded. “I tried getting information out of Adere about what Israel had been poisoned with but…she is no help in her current state.”
“I doubt very much that she knows about it anyway. Samyara arranged to have her killed with that poison.”
“I thought Mayrekk might know something about it. He’s so good with herbs and such. You used to get messages through to him. Could we get a message to him now? Will you help me reach him?”
“It’s a good idea. Just give me a few more minutes to recover my DreamWeaver.”
