by Hanna Peach
He spotted her through the crowd. She was in skin-fitting black, a type of leather cat suit that stretched and hugged every single one of her curves, blades strapped to her thighs and hips. She had her dark hair tied back, which only highlighted her sharp cheekbones, thick lips and the bottomless depths of her dark cat-shaped eyes. She had two warriors at her side, two witless idiots that she was flirting with just to pass the time, no doubt. She laughed at something one of them said, or perhaps she was just laughing at them. Jordan certainly wanted to. The sound of her laugh tinkled over the air to his ears. Her admirers drew closer to her, completely ignorant, like mice being played with by a cat.
She looked up and their eyes met; she broke off mid-sentence. Her body turned towards him. Suddenly he felt like he was the only man on this battlefield. A deep protectiveness came over him.
He stormed right up to her and grabbed her arm, pulling her away. “Get out of here, Cleo,” he hissed low to her.
Immediately her face changed into that combative scowl that he was so familiar with. “Isn’t there room on the battlefield for the two of us? How about you get out of here.”
Jordan pointed at Alyx, who was mid-speech now. “She’s about to order the attack. Our backup isn’t here yet. I’ve seen our numbers, Cleo. It’s a suicide mission, a distraction so she can get to the Gate.”
“Are you fighting?”
“Of course.”
Cleo pulled her arm out of his hand. She leaned in, so close that he could smell the mint on her breath. She stared him right in the eyes. “Then I’m staying.”
“Are you insane?”
“All my life I’ve been running from death, running from life, fearful of growing old. I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”
“Cleo, if you fight you’ll die for nothing.”
“No.” Her eyes blazed with a dark fierceness. “It means I will have lived for something.”
Jordan stared at this woman who continued to shock him with everything she said and did. Her soul blazed with more fire than he thought should be possible in a mortal body. She wasn’t a duchess, she was a queen. His brave warrior queen. He realized in that moment what he had been ignoring for the last few weeks…
“Cleo,” his voice rang with awe. I’m falling for you. I don’t know when it started or perhaps I had always been but was too stupid to realize it, but there it is… I’m falling in love with you. That’s what he wanted to say. That’s what he should have said. But instead, this came out. “I see you, Cleo. I see underneath all that sex and trash talk you cover yourself with. You are kind even though life has not always been kind to you. You shine with light even though you have lived in darkness. You are easily the bravest person here because you tempt death more by being mortal. Please, would you do me the honor of letting me fight alongside you?”
Cleo blinked at him rapidly. “Oh, wow…”
They were the truest words he had ever spoken.
A look came to her eyes and she tilted her head. “Did you get possessed by a demon or something?”
“What?”
“Who are you and what have you done with my Jordan?” Did she just say her Jordan? “It’s kinda unnerving, you being so nice to−”
“Cleo, just take the damn compliment.”
“Okay…thanks. And by the way, yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, you can fight alongside me. Just try not to cramp my style.”
Behind him he heard Alyx’s shout to advance. The FreeThinkers around them roared in response and began to move around them.
“It begins,” Jordan said.
Before he could move, Cleo closed the space between them and pressed her mouth to his. Her kiss was hard yet her lips were soft. That tiny space where their mouths connected contained the promise of a passion big enough to shake the universe. Her kiss silenced his heart, then kick-started it again like a shock to the chest. It was over all too quickly and suddenly there was space between every part of their bodies.
Holy Hell.
“So, it begins,” she said.
She tapped his chin with her finger, closing his mouth for him. She winked at him as she brushed past, her sword singing as she unsheathed it.
So, it begins. He wasn’t sure if she was talking about the battle.
Chapter 34
Alyx thrust her sword in the air and her white army let out a roar, their voices united as was their cause. The white sea sparkled with the glints of silver. They rushed around Alyx like water around a rock. She lowered her sword and turned, swallowing hard as she watched the flurry of white aiming for the sea of black. The first sounds of swords started to fill the air and the first of her army started to die, their cries cut short as were their lives.
“Making difficult choices is one of the curses of being a leader. You made your choice. Make sure you can live with it.”
Was she a leader? She didn’t feel like one. She just felt like a girl who wanted to save a boy she loved.
“So, it begins,” said Vix who was standing beside her.
“Yup.” That’s all that she could manage to say.
“Can you see him?”
Alyx opened her Soulsight and scanned the area, looking for that single soul that belonged to her. For a single moment of dread she thought that she might have made a mistake. She thought that this might have been a trick and that Michael wasn’t at this Gate. But then her heart tugged at her. She spotted him, Israel, shining brighter than any other soul in this valley.
She let go of her Soulsight, grabbed the set of binoculars at her hip and peered into the night. There looked to be nothing moving through the valley from the north and yet when she looked with her Soulsight, there they were, a small convoy and Israel approaching the mosque at the base of the valley, where the Hell Gate was located.
“I see them. They’re headed to the mosque down in the valley.”
* * *
Hidden under borrowed MirageWeaver, Sparrow hid close by, listening to Alyx and Vix plan their path through the battlefield to the mosque down in the depths of the valley. He had made Piki promise to remain back at the castle. When the faithful swallow refused Sparrow tricked him into a makeshift cage with food. Piki had fluttered angrily against the bars as Sparrow promised to be back soon. He felt a little bad for tricking him, but he didn’t want his little friend getting hurt if he came with him.
Now that Alyx and Vix had both disappeared under their mirage, he wished that he had let Piki come with him. He felt very much alone and deathly afraid.
“When I became a man, I put away childish things,” he whispered to himself. He set out into the sky after Alyx and Vix.
The battle raged like a storm across the valley and sky. Sparrow darted around clashing Seraphim, ducked aside from balls of magic and avoided falling bodies, all the while looking for the next gap between the fighters. It was slow progress but he edged closer and closer to the mosque.
He trembled when the swing of someone’s sword got too close. But he stayed his path. He wished he could crawl into some dark, warm, safe place where there would be no swords or sharp objects, but he kept going. Because being a coward was worse. He was the reason that Israel got caught. He had to make things right.
Even if it killed him.
* * *
Tonight the valley rained. Droplets of blood fell upon the thirsty, dusty ground as the battle spread out across the valley and into the sky as well. Black and white clashed in the air, flying at each other at great speeds, blades spinning and glinting like glitter. Magic cracked across the air like lightning and burst against each other like fireworks. Every so often an angel would take a wound they could not heal and fall from the sky, landing broken, with a final thud upon the sand. Vix stayed close to Alyx as they began to weave their way through the battlefield, both under a mirage.
Alyx tried to ignore the cries of battle in the air. It was all around them. She tried not to think about who from her side were losing their lives in a sac
rifice against evil. She tried not to think who would lose the love of their life today. She couldn’t think such things. They would render her useless. And she had to push on.
Finally the mosque loomed ahead, a large domed building the same color and texture as the sand around them, guarded by two domed towers, a shorter one to the right and a taller one to the left that pierced the inky sky. The entrance to the mosque was a huge central archway painted in elaborate symmetrical patterns with all the colors of the desert. Two entry doors blended almost completely into the archway.
Inside Alyx could see Israel’s soul light. There was another light in there with him.
Michael’s.
There looked to be nobody guarding the mosque. But Alyx knew that to be false. With her Soulsight she could see the light of the warriors guarding the mosque entrance hidden under a mirage. Alyx grabbed Vix’s arm firmly and pulled her to the roof above the entry. They peered over the edge and Alyx leaned into Vix’s ear to whisper. “Israel’s inside, alone with Michael. But there are six guards stationed around the entryway under a mirage.”
“Where?”
Alyx pointed out the pairs. “Under my mirage I can see them with my Soulsight but they can’t see me. I can take them out one by one.”
“We don’t have time for stealth. Israel doesn’t have time for stealth.”
“What do you suggest then?”
“I’ll distract them. You go in and kick Michael’s ass.”
“Vix, there’s six of them. It’s suicide.”
Vix grinned. “So, it’ll be a challenge for me. Go save our boy.”
Before Alyx could protest, Vix flipped off the roof, disappearing under her mirage. With her Soulsight Alyx saw Vix fall silently behind one of the guards Alyx pointed out. There was a cry of pain and the guard’s soul snuffed out.
Alyx dropped her Soulsight. Down below only the guard stood visible with a sword extending out the front of his stomach. It pulled back through his body and disappeared back under Vix’s mirage. There was a commotion as the rest of the guards, still under their mirages, scrambled to fight off this invisible opponent.
Vix, I hope you know what you’re doing.
With one last glance at Vix’s soul and a small prayer that she would survive, Alyx slid down from the roof to the entrance and slipped inside the doors.
Just inside was a dim entry hall, one that would have held rows of shoes and sandals of prayer-goers. From the entry hall there was a skinny arched corridor with bathrooms on either side, doors now closed, where devotees could wash. At the end of the corridor she would have to pass through a final set of doors to get into the heart of the mosque. There was no one else here. She could hear the muffled sounds of fighting outside.
Alyx crossed the entry hall and stepped quietly into the dark corridor. The walls and tiled floor felt like they were closing in on her. The hairs on her skin rose from the chill fingering her from all sides. Even sound died in here, the outside noise of fighting taken over by a deafening silence. Alyx had the sense that she just stepped into her own coffin.
Perhaps she had.
On the other end of this passage was Michael, an all-powerful Michael with unknown amounts of stolen magic to wield. And her? Why did she think that she could take him on? Her, with her flimsy mirage and the blood tattoo marks like children’s drawings covering both her arms. There was no light at the end of this tunnel. Nothing but death.
Her step faltered. She could run. She could turn back now and escape. She could live. She could slip into the confines of Purgatory and hide away and try to forget that the world was burning without her.
As soon as she thought of it, the urge to run died away. There was no life without defeating Michael. No life beyond Israel, who was beyond those doors. Even if she ran there would only be death waiting for her. She pulled out a long dagger, her eyes on the door at the end of this corridor.
Come then, death. I’m ready for you.
Chapter 35
At the end of the archway Alyx tested the door handle. It was unlocked. She squeezed open the door just a crack, the sound of her heart thudding in her body seemed to echo in this passageway. Inside the mosque was a huge room covered in a blood-red carpet. Thick sandy-colored pillars circled the center of the room and held up the tall mosaicked dome above. Glass and iron lanterns hung on long chains from the high ceiling in circular patterns extending out across the room from the inner edge of the dome, lighting the space in a warm, flickering glow. On the far edge of the underside of the dome was Israel, mounted on a wooden cross that was secured between two pillars, the floor and the ceiling. Israel’s head was slumped over so his chin was at his chest. Michael was beside him, securing his right forearm to the cross with rope, his wrist facing out.
She arrived just in time. There was no blood flowing yet from Israel’s wrists. He was alive and unharmed. So far. At the sight of him, Alyx’s heart smashed into the inside of her ribcage like an animal furious to be freed. Her blood roared through her veins like a thunder of horses and she fought the urge to throw herself at Israel and tear off his bindings. She ordered herself to hold back. Patience, Alyx. Patience.
Any impulsive move would bring Michael’s attention to her and be the end of them all. To win against Michael, with all his stolen magics, she needed the advantage that stealth would bring her.
She tore her eyes from Israel and focused on Michael. He had moved to Israel’s left hand and was now tying his other wrist, his back to her. Swirls of hatred licked inside Alyx’s body and she welcomed them.
Feeling secure under her mirage, she gripped her dagger tighter. Michael’s back was her only focus, the only thing she could see. She imagined where his black bitter heart lay in among his ribs and lungs. That was where her dagger would rest.
She pushed the door open wider, excruciatingly slowly. Almost there, almost wide enough to let her through.
Now.
She slid her body sideways through the gap and into the mosque. An incense, something musky and sweet like one of the desert flowers outside, reached her nose. The air in here was hot compared to the air in the corridor and her skin tingled with the change in temperature. Keeping her feet off the carpet and the rest of her body perfectly still, she cut silently through the air towards Michael.
As she neared the center of the mosque, she could see that the carpet had been torn back from the floor under the dome. In the stone foundation was a huge circle, mirroring the circle of the dome above, running along the inner edge of the pillars. It was the Hell Gate. Within the circle were engraved lines making a pattern that she couldn’t quite make out from here. Alyx felt bile rise in her throat. These divots were where Israel’s blood would run when Michael cut open his wrists. Israel’s blood, his tri-blood − Seraphim, demon and mortal − would drip onto the Gate, filling up all of the engravings, to open it.
She would not let this happen.
Her muscles coiled, tense and ready, adrenaline surging through her veins, as she flew towards him, barely daring to breathe. Michael hummed, sounding pleased with himself. He gripped Israel’s forearm and drew a dagger from his side as if to slash his wrist.
Now.
Alyx launched forward, thrusting her dagger into his back. Michael spun and his blade smashed against hers. Alyx choked back her surprise. How? Her mirage was still working. She was invisible.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t realize you were there?” Michael said, his voice booming out across the cavernous space. He grabbed her wrist with his free hand so she couldn’t get away. She grabbed his with hers. They grappled with each other’s wrists, both daggers pointed towards the other. Michael wasn’t trained as a warrior but he was strong. Stronger than she imagined he could be. Michael’s icy blue eyes flared and a grin crawled across his face. “Sorry. I’m being cruel. I should stop toying with you.”
He twisted her wrist in a burst of strength that shocked her. Her forearm flared in pain and she dropped her dagger. It clattered to
the ground.
Oh God, she thought. He’s stronger than I realized.
Michael kicked her. She flew backwards through the air and landed on the ground. Pain jolted through her body, causing her to drop her mirage.
“You won’t win, little girl. Not against me.”
Behind Michael, Alyx caught sight of Israel’s head moving, just a slight rolling of his head. She heard him groan, a low, pained moan that echoed softly across the expanse of room between them.
Michael spun towards Israel, taking his eyes off Alyx. “Wakey, wakey. That sleeping drug Tii’la gave you is a bitch, isn’t it? It might take you a while to actually wake up.”
Alyx miraged herself again and moved silently around in a curve, ever closer to Michael.
“You’ll miss the tragic death of your girlfriend.” Michael spun back around towards where Alyx had been. His face registered a momentary frown when he realized she wasn’t there anymore. His eyes moved around the cavern as if he were trying to peer through her mirage. For a second she swore that he looked straight at her, his icy blue eyes sending a shiver cascading down her spine. “Do you really think miraging yourself is really going to stop me from finding you?”
Hopefully just for as long as it takes for me to kill you. Alyx kept circling him, moving closer and closer as she did.
Michael flicked out waves of Air magic using just the tips of his fingers. He turned and did the same in a different direction, searching the room for her. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
Alyx begged her heart to remain steady as his Air pulses grew closer and closer. She wasn’t close enough to him as she wanted to be yet. But one more pulse and she would be discovered.
She had no choice. She pulled at Jordan’s DreamWeaver and let out a furious pulse. He spun and countered with a DreamWeaver pulse of his own. Their pulses smashed into each other with an explosion that echoed through the mosque. Electricity crackled through the air as blue sparks spat across the mosque, adding their own eerie cold light to the lanterns.
