Emerge- The Betrayal

by Melissa A. Craven

  Allie face planted in the grass, the dreamworld sun warm at her back. The nausea was old hat by now, but the others swarmed around her to give her a minute to adjust.

  A familiar hand helped her up, but she quickly tugged it away. She liked Brigs, but it occurred to her she wasn’t all that sad that he would be moving on soon.

  “Alright, she’s here, now what’s the plan?” Livia demanded. She was with Darius. Livia didn’t want Allie in the dreamworld either.

  Quinn cleared his throat as he turned to address his walkers. “The night we brought Navid home, we were able to free the last of the walkers held captive in the towers.”

  A roar of approval swept through the dream walkers, along with a lot of back-slapping and fists in the air.

  “Well done, my friends. We couldn’t have done any of this without your help, but it’s time we officially end this war. Over the past few days, even Brecken’s most faithful have left his side, seeking my protection and pledging their loyalty to the true commander.”

  “Why now, after all this time?” Allie asked. “What changed?”

  “Good question.” Quinn nodded. “We’ve always known Brecken preys on the fear of our dreamers to strengthen himself and those beneath him, but I could never figure out how he could also promise his followers more time in the dreamworld. He made grand promises to those who supported him, vowing to double their thresholds. It was how he was able to inspire such loyalty. Now we know how he accomplished such a feat.”

  “The prisoners?” Brigs asked, a horrified look on his face.

  “Exactly,” Quinn said, his voice grew harsh with determination. “Brecken has been syphoning enormous levels of power from his prison towers, using it to give his supporters what they craved. Now that the source of his power is gone, the loyalty he purchased has also vanished, leaving him alone and vulnerable.”

  “What of those who have left him?” Raina asked. “Will they be punished?”

  “Most have defected to our side in fear of the repercussions it is my right to deliver, Quinn said. “And I will punish them as I see fit, but first, we must deal with Brecken himself. He is holed up in his castle, afraid to face me. He’s surrounded himself with dreamers to protect him and I will not stand for it.”

  “Then let’s go get the bastard.” Danica took a menacing step forward. “What’s the plan?”

  “I will fight Brecken alone,” Quinn said. “But I need your help to get to him first. We will have to right through the dreamers, but I would prefer we not hurt them if we can avoid it. That’s where you two come in.” He turned to face Allie and Livia. “You’ve been able to lure large quantities of dreamers back to their dreamscapes with fire. Can you teach the others to help?”

  “Of course,” Allie said. After helping the first prisoner’s escape, Allie discovered the walkers responded to the warmth of fire even when they were locked in the nightmares of the prison world. She’d discovered the dreamers were similar. After some trial and error, Livia and Allie had learned to create a source of fire imbued with all the safety of home and warmth and good things so the fire acted like a beacon to the battle weary dreamers who were nothing more than scared children.

  “How do you make the fire blue?” Quinn asked.

  “And it smells like fresh baked cookies and reminds me of my mom,” Brigs added.

  “Yeah, you should bottle that stuff,” Danica said. “We’re all pretty much in love with it.”

  “We’ll teach you how to make Allie’s nauseating fantasy fire, but when is this happening?” Livia asked.

  Quinn’s eyes hardened and he lifted his chin in defiance. “We leave in half an hour so make it quick.”

  Allie waved her twin torches like flags, blue fire dancing at the tips. A swarm of dreamers followed her through the carnage of Brecken’s failing dreamscape.

  “That’s right, kiddos. Follow Auntie Allie and her magic fire. The nightmare is almost over. You’re going to wake up, warm in your beds and you’re only going to have good dreams from now on.” One by one, she lured the battle weary soldiers beyond Brecken’s reach. She knew they would be okay when their identical hardened exteriors melted away, revealing the frightened children underneath. Most of them were so young she hoped the memory of the dreams would completely fade from their minds in time. As the last girl drifted back to her own dreamscape, Allie raced back to the castle to round up another group.

  The ground shook with a massive quake and Allie tumbled head first down the hill, landing at Brigs’s feet.

  “Sometimes I wonder how you manage to fall so much.” He crouched down beside her.

  “The world likes to trip me.” Allie rolled onto her back with a groan.

  Brigs offered his hand and pulled her back to her feet.

  “How’s it going in there?” Allie worried about Quinn facing Brecken alone.

  “Judging by the state of Brecken’s castle, not good for him. I think this war is all but won.”

  “Alright then, let’s go catch the end of it.” Allie jogged across the rocky landscape, mostly free of the roaming soldiers that had filled the space when they arrived. Brigs and the other walkers had managed to escort most of the dreamers from the war zone.

  “Over there.” Brigs pointed to the collapsed bridge where the other walkers and Livia had gathered.

  “What’s going on?” Allie asked as she joined her sister.

  “I don’t know. Lots of destruction, but they move so fast, I can’t tell what’s happening.”

  “Quinn is bringing the castle down around Brecken’s head, but Brecken is putting up a good fight,” Brigs said. “I don’t know why he doesn’t just surrender. It’s clear who the master of the dreamworld is.”

  “Clear to everyone but Brecken,” Allie muttered. She watched in awe as the castle battlements collapsed, fading to fine dust before they hit the ground. The remnants of the castle stood in a pile of rubble where the two men fought for dominance. Quinn’s sword blocked Brecken’s as he countered his opponent, pushing him back. A sheen of sweat covered Quinn’s bare back, his dark skin like obsidian against the stark white stone of the castle.

  “Surrender.” Quinn’s voice echoed across the sky, his authority and power over this world clear to everyone present.

  “So you can banish me from this world?” Brecken raged, his massive chest heaving with the effort to fight the Commander of the dreamworld.

  “Drop your sword and end this war now and I will not banish you, but I will only make the offer once.”

  “Why should I believe you?” Brecken spat in Quinn’s face.

  “Because I am your commander. Now, end this.” Quinn’s voice grew dangerous, like the sharp edge of a blade.

  Brecken swore and threw his sword down. “I suppose you want me to kneel too?”

  “I am no king. Your surrender is all I require.”

  “Quinn, you have to banish him,” Brigs said. “He’ll just rise up again.”

  “No he won’t.” Quinn said, dismissing Brigs’s concern. The ground began to shake as trees and grass sprouted from the barren landscape. A lake burst forth from the ground like a geyser and the land where the castle once stood lifted beneath their feet, morphing into a butte at the center of Brecken’s dreamscape. The rubble of the castle retreated, reforming walls and rooms within.

  Quinn stepped away from the much smaller castle, joining his walkers near the newly repaired gates where a bridge once stood. “Brecken, for your crimes against the dreamworld, you will never be accepted among the walkers of this realm. But I will not banish you from this world, nor will I trap you inside it. You may come and go as you please between the waking world and your own dreamscape. You may bend this small corner of the dreamworld to your will, but you may never leave this place. No dreamer will ever enter this remote corner. And no walker will join you to rise again. You will remain a part of the dreamworld, but you will never again have fellowship with your own kind.

  “For how long?” Brecken asked.
His shoulder slumped, resigned to his punishment.

  Quinn tilted his head. “Forever.” He turned to join his people.

  “Quinn, wait,” Brecken called. “You may as well trap me in this prison of my own making. I’m as good as dead once I return to the waking world.”

  “Then may God and whatever master you serve have mercy on your soul.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Aidan

  Atlanta, September

  The others have it so much worse than I do. Over the last three months, Aidan had constantly reminded himself he was lucky compared to everyone else living on Marcus’s estate. If you could call it living. He never saw them. Marcus kept his prisoners secured beneath the estate. Some never saw the light of day. Most were ancients, important Immortals their contemporaries had long forgotten. Allie’s grandmother was once one of them. She’d managed to escape with the help of Marcus’s wife, Porcia. But Porcia was long gone and there was no one here to help Aidan now.

  Marcus treated him like a son—a prince even—at least in Marcus’s estimation. He’d tried to insert himself as a father figure into Aidan’s life, but Aidan had an amazing father. One that could never be replaced. If anything, Greggory McBrien had prepared his son for this. At the end of the day, Aidan would have a comfortable bed to sleep in and enough food to keep him strong. He had a world of luxury at his disposal, but Marcus could never buy his loyalty. Aidan’s loyalty belonged to the people he loved. They gave him strength. So Aidan let Marcus call him “son” and pretend to be a father, while Aidan kept those he loved in a part of his mind Marcus would never penetrate. His thoughts and memories were his lifeline in those moments when Aidan thought he would lose control. Sometimes he forgot why he’d chosen this difficult path and then he remembered his family. Allie. Naomi. His Syntrophos family. He was doing this for them, but Aidan often wondered if he’d known what he was getting himself into if he’d have had the strength to make the same decisions again.

  “Again,” Marcus demanded. “And focus this time, son. I want you to be strong. Strong men push themselves.”

  “Strong men do not back down in the face of their power.” Aidan picked himself up off the ground, wiping the blood from his nose.

  “That’s right, son. Be a man and own your power. Keep pushing.”

  Aidan’s power raged inside him like a storm he knew he couldn’t contain much longer. Already, he felt like his power would rip him apart, but Marcus had barely begun.

  “This is where your weak father failed you.” Marcus stormed across the training ring. “You fear your power will overrule you, so you pull back when you need to push. You will conquer your power, Aidan. You are strong, and you have it within you to push past the confines of the corruption to touch the pure power the way our kind was meant to.”

  “I will keep trying, sir.” Aidan’s voice rasped like sandpaper against his raw throat. Raw from his screams. Aidan swayed on his feet, closing his eyes, he focused on the sounds beyond the walled estate. Sounds of the city surrounded his prison. Like Aidan could just climb the brick wall and escape among the streets of Atlanta. Freedom was just yards away, but impossible to reach. And just another way Marcus liked to torture those inside his gilded cage.

  Aidan dusted the red Georgia dirt from his clothes, pacing to the center of the training ring, a clearing beneath the ancient oaks that bordered the estate. Marcus’s home was a mixture of an antebellum southern plantation with a splash of the luxury of Versailles.

  Aidan’s newest prison existed behind an impenetrable shield from the rest of the world. The only way through that shield was with Marcus’s permission. Aidan still hadn’t figured out how both the queen and Porcia had managed to escape and he probably never would.

  “You haven’t explored the endless possibilities of your power, Aidan. Every ability is multifaceted and has at least one opposite. If one can tell the skies to flood the earth, they also have the potential to cause a drought. If one can heal, they also have the potential to destroy. One only needs to find the right branch of their gift. Once found, we nourish that branch until it becomes a mighty oak.” Marcus held his hands up to the giant trees surrounding them to illustrate his point.

  This was what Aidan had volunteered for. He had the role of a lifetime to play and he intended to play it well. Without waiting for Marcus to push him, Aidan reached for his healing gift. He knew it better than Marcus realized. Of course Greggory McBrien had taught his son how to explore his gift. Aidan had studied every potential use of his healing ability, pursuing those he wanted to cultivate, and pruning those, he never wanted to touch. Like a healthy sapling, his gift flourished, growing toward the light, shying away from darkness. Marcus wanted him to explore that darkness.

  I am still in control. It doesn’t matter what abilities Marcus pulls out of me, my choices will always define me. Not my abilities. Aidan had watched Quinn struggle with the nature of his gifts. Aidan would follow Quinn’s lead. He would embrace his darkness but he would always choose light and goodness over evil. He knew he had the strength to follow Marcus into hell and still find his way back. Allie waited for him at the end of this journey and he’d gladly walk through fire to see her again. I just hope I’m still me when I get there.

  Aidan probed his gift among the darkness, feeling for a handhold. A sliver of a branch he could cling to. He saw several possibilities, but looked for the one with the most light among the darkness.

  “That’s better,” Marcus encouraged him. “Keep going. One breath at a time, Aidan.”

  Aidan’s legs gave out and he felt to his knees. Blood poured from his nose and eyes, but he kept searching. Reaching. Fighting for control of his power, pushing himself to ignore his instincts that told him to end this madness.

  “Do not stop,” Marcus shouted through the chaos of Aidan’s mind. “You will own your power. You will not cower in fear of it as you’ve been taught.”

  Only fools pushed themselves this far. Fools and madmen. As Aidan’s lungs threatened to burst, he passed the point of no return. His power crashed through him, a perfect storm of anarchy he had no business confronting. Staring into the eyes of a monster of his own making, fear unlike any he’d ever known engulfed him. Aidan’s screams ripped from his throat as tears of blood streamed down his face.

  “Focus!” Marcus demanded. “Do not falter now or you will lose this battle and you’ll be useless to me.”

  Eyes wide with fright and his sight clouded with blood, Aidan recoiled from the beast he faced. If he failed now, it was all over. His power would consume him and he’d never recover.

  “No. You will conquer your fear, Aidan.” Marcus slid to his knees in the dirt beside him. “You are the master of this power.” Marcus grasped Aidan by his hair and pulled him back to his feet. “That abyss you’re staring into right now, that is you. Never fear yourself or the things you can do. Own it. It’s yours. Take it now or let it have you. The choice is yours.”

  Choice. That was what it all came down to. Aidan grasped the miniscule thread of his healing gift, latching onto it with a strength he didn’t know he possessed. The strand felt awkward and unnatural, but he powered through the revulsion.

  “That’s it, son,” Marcus praised. “Take it.”

  “I am not your son,” Aidan hissed through clenched teeth. Clinging to the tainted thread of his gift like a lifeline, Aidan clawed his way back. He would take it all. He would soak up everything Marcus had to teach him.

  And then he’d use it to destroy him.

  Part IV: 18 Months Later

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Aidan

  Milan, Italy, March

  Aidan stared out the dark, tinted windows of the limousine, watching the now familiar Italian countryside sweep past as they left the chaos of Milan behind. After more than a year of traveling with Marcus, Aidan was used to their frequent visits to the Initiative. He was desperate for the first sight of Lake Maggiore—the first sight of home.

  Funny h
ow I think of this place as home now. But home was wherever Naomi was. Or Allie. He dreamed of the day when the two most important people in his life could be in the same place at the same time. And that day could be soon. Please God, let it be soon. Aidan lost a little more of himself to Marcus each day. There was a cold darkness inside him now. A version of himself he feared. Too many times, Aidan found himself agreeing with Marcus and seeing the sense of his plans for the Immortal world. Not that Marcus shared much with him.

  Thoughts of Allie and Naomi kept Aidan sane. They existed somewhere deep inside his soul in a place Marcus could never reach. Aidan protected them there, shielding them from Marcus. And in turn, they protected Aidan, reminding him of who he was and the man he wanted to be. When this was all over, Aidan still needed to be worthy of his Syntrophos and his Complement.

  “That woman is as much a weakness as a strength,” Marcus said, annoyed. “Settle down. Aidan. You’ll see your Syntrophos soon enough.” He continued reading through his reports, not sparing Aidan a glance.

  “Sorry, sir, just anxious to see her.” That man wouldn’t know what love was if it slapped him in the face. Marcus saw nothing beyond power.

  “What is it about her that makes you so irritating? I swear, you’re worse than a couple of lovesick, newlywed Complements.”

  “She is my Syntrophos, sir. I can’t explain it, but if she’s not with me, it’s physically painful. And after a separation this long, the reunion is all I can think about.”

  “You saw her two weeks ago. We’ve been traveling for over a year now, and you see her often enough. I need you to adjust. The constant need you have for her is a weakness.”

  “Sorry, sir, I will keep working on it.” Marcus would never understand the connection he shared with Naomi. He couldn’t see how Aidan’s need for his Syntrophos wasn’t just about the love he had for her, but the power that brought them together and made them stronger.