Dark World (Book I in the Dark World Trilogy) (13 page)

Her hunched spine stiffened and her
gaze fell upon the doorway. She seemed to sense
something.

“
Foolish demon,” she said, her
voice taut with annoyance. “Why have you brought
her
here?”

“
Her?” His thoughts moved to
Deme being treated by the village shamans.

“
The shade!” she spat,
brimming with anger.

“
I apologize,” Kane
stammered. “I found her…in the Crimson Desert…born
alone.”

She paused momentarily, seemingly
interested.

“
Shades are not to be
trusted,” she stated coldly.

He nodded, careful not to upset the old
woman further. “Speaking of the shade.” He swallowed. “Is there any
way to…cure her? Tame her?” An uninvited hope crept into his chest.
Why did he care so much? He only wanted Fate tame to help him
acquire the scrolls. Didn’t he?

He shook off the sensation, focusing on
the task at hand.

The old psychic paused, the eerie
silence sending icy fingers walking up Kane’s spine. “Yes,” she
finally uttered, “but it is a near impossible feat.”

He frowned, a tightness forming in the
pit of his stomach. “What is it?”

“
You must find her soul and
return it to her,” she stated in her raspy voice.

“
Find her soul?” He had to
admit he hadn’t considered that. He knew that damned souls
descended into Dark World, but he had no idea where they wound up.
Only that Malus owned them once they arrived and he was certain she
wouldn’t be eager to part with even one. Especially
Fate’s.

“
Why you would want to help
a shade is beyond me,” she said gruffly, then mumbled, “…can’t be
trusted.”

He nodded, unable to argue. He was still
struggling with his own decision to allow her to live. Something
inside him, an instinct, told him Fate wasn’t entirely evil even
though she was spawn from it. Besides, if he was going to seek out
the pages of the Devil’s Bible on his own, he was going to need
someone who could touch them since he could not.

The Oracle suddenly shifted her attention
to the stones before her. “The runes wish to speak to you.” She
gathered the stones into her hands, shook them once and then tossed
the lot onto a marble table before her. They clattered and clacked
as they rolled and skid to a stop in various positions.

“
What do they say?” His eyes
darted from stone to stone trying to decipher some secret code they
might present. Anticipation crept over him like a spider ensnaring
its next casualty.

The old fortune-teller held her gloved
hands over the runes, summoning answers from the cryptic
arrangement. After a few moments, she pulled her arms back and
tucked her hands into her sleeves.

She sighed once as though contemplating
whether she should respond. Eventually, she spoke, her voice low
and saddened, “The runes do not show good things for you, I’m
afraid. You will know more sadness…more loss.”

His heart picked up pace, anxiety
setting in. “Who? Who will I lose?”

If she had eyes hidden behind that
cloak, they were boring into his soul.

“
Everyone you
love.”

A whirlwind of dark power surged around
her, pulsating and writhing. The energy owned her, soothed her,
bent her to its will. Lust beat down the doors where her soul once
resided and demanded to be fed. Fate eyed a wraith before her, his
fear palpable, and dropped her gaze to his chest.

I don’t want to do this!
Stop!

The need. The hunger. The desire to
devour was winning. She brought her hand to her face and removed
her mask, growling as the ache resonated within.

I can’t,
her conscience pleaded.
I can’t kill. I
don’t want to kill!

The moment before she lunged, she
curled her hands into fists and fell to the ground, releasing an
anguished scream as she fought her body’s compulsions.

“
What’s going on?” Kane’s
deep voice boomed.

“
Get her out of here!”
the wraiths’ united
voices hissed like a hundred snakes. Suddenly they were rushing
towards her, their translucent bodies bending with the wind. Fate
felt her body being lifted into the air by unseen hands—and hurled
into the tornado barrier.

Reckoning

His jaw hung open, staring in distress
at the wild, writhing barricade before him. The wraiths hadn’t sent
her over the obstruction, but straight into its thrashing clutches.
Trapped in stasis, she hung suspended in a pool of grey and black
waters. Fate was now a prisoner of the sentient tempest. The storm
phantoms howled in delight, grasping her with their shadowy fingers
and pulling her in several directions, playfully fighting over her.
Kane watched as Fate was tossed about like a lifeless
corpse.

“
Please,” Kane called out,
desperation tarnishing his powerful voice. “Let her go!”

In his peripheral, he saw Deme emerge
from the healing hut, a look of concern shrouding her eyes. While
he was thankful she appeared to be better, he couldn’t help but
notice a smugness rise behind her expression when she pieced
together the scene before her.

Calm down, Kane,
he thought, turning
his attention back to Fate.
She’ll be okay.

A pair of tiny hands wrapped themselves
around his ankles. Looking down, Kane saw little Ick hugging him
above his right hoof, terror blemishing his polished green eyes.
Deme, having limped slowly to his side, crossed her arms over her
chest.

“
So,” she started with an
icy tone, “the shade finally got what she deserved.”

Kane winced. He hadn’t known Deme to be
so merciless, but then his opinion on shades hadn’t been much
different—until recently.

Twisted into unnatural shapes, Fate was
all but ripped limb from limb. Her screams unheard as the multitude
of hands assaulted her body. And not just her body, but her mind as
well. A deep sorrow burrowed through her core, gnawing at the
emptiness within. These phantom beings had the power to invade her
thoughts, her fears and deepest sadness.

I just want to go home,
she thought, a
diamond teardrop escaped her colorless eyes and shimmered down her
cheek.

Confusion consumed her. Where was home?
Was it that beautiful place above with the sky of Caribbean blue?
That place where she recalled warm, human arms wrapping around her?
Or was it the home belonging to the voice? The velvety female voice
that lovingly begged and pleaded with her every moment since her
arrival in the dark world—was that the road home?

The encasing winds morphed from black
to murky shades of grey. Maniacal laughter rebounded on all sides,
merging into whispers, then back to sinister giggles. It was a Hell
within a Hell. She teetered on madness, trapped within the steely
arms of gloom.

“
Let her go,” Kane beseeched
the leader of the wraiths, his eerie, angular face leering from
within the cowl. “Please, we’ll leave immediately.”

Vaporous and exuding an aura of
unkindness, his semi-transparent body hovering several feet above
the ground, the cloaked creature simply laughed. Kane’s blood
simmered and he instinctively reached for his sword, the onyx blade
singing a metallic tune as it slid free from its
covering.

“
I said let her go!” he
snarled, the bridge of his nose creased, intersecting with the fury
of his lowered brow.

The ghostly menace laughed harder, his
amber eyes aglow with malicious amusement. Kane gripped his sword
with both hands and unleashed his rage, swinging at the wraith. The
blade sliced through the torso of the apparition, leaving only a
ripple of disturbance like a pebble skipping over murky waters.
Kane staggered, then regained his balance and took another swing.
He knew how to kill the wraith and what he was doing was futile,
yet his fury prevented logic.

While the wraith found the demon’s actions
amusing, he’d apparently deemed the attack irritating enough to
counter. Ancient words spilled from his lips, stirring a dust Devil
of sand and wind around him. Crackles of electricity sparked and a
heavy droning filled the air whilst a supernatural energy built.
The wraith raised his arms, pulling the elements closer, summoning
them. A white sphere of illumination danced from one palm to
another, growing and intensifying.

Kane held his ground, drawing from the
depths of his own weakened magic. He ignited his entire body into
an inferno of blue flames, to both protect and return
fire.

I only have one shot at
this,
he
worried. Without the light of the Crystal Pyramid or ample supply
of bloodstone, his powers could last but a few moments.

The wraith sneered, readying to
discharge his elemental weapon. Angry sparks flew from his hands,
reaching for Kane’s chest. Kane’s blazing aura reacted by forming
an impenetrable shield, rebounding the streams of lightning and
sending them firing about the village. A bonfire of cerulean flame
then burst forth from Kane’s body and roared towards the wraith,
striking him in the shoulder. The wraith shrieked in anger and
pain, recoiling from the blast.

Weakness suddenly smothered Kane. He
fought to stay standing as his once loyal fire faded to embers. He
looked to Fate, writhing in the arms of agony and silently cursed
his father for disabling the pyramid. Without its powers to nourish
him, he was useless to her.

The wraith recovered, powering up for
the next shot—as did five other wraiths now encircling the
defenseless demon.

“
Kane!” Deme screamed.
“Run!”

This is it.
Kane bowed his head.
Maybe if I’m lucky,
I can find Seren wandering the afterlife—and join her.

“
Daughter,”
the voice pleaded with
her,
“come
home to me…come home.”

Flashes of the Surface mingled with the
fathoms of Dark World. A collision of worlds, infused with
bitterness and rage, sadness and regret. What was real? Was she
still alive and all of this but a bad dream? Or was this Hell and
she was truly dead?

“
There is no death, only
transition,”
a familiar voice whispered, the blade of a serrated dagger
glinted by the light of a full moon.

Chanting.

Pain.

Then, sinking.

Fate sobbed, her throat aching with
unleashed emotions as she fought against the evil masses molesting
her undead body. There was no escape—no one to save her. Or was
there? The demon. The dark one called Kane. He had shown pity on
her, had he not? By removing her mask and protecting her from the
sphinxes, didn’t he show he cared?

As though her revelations cleared the
airs around her, the storm calmed and clarity parted the dark
clouds like a veil. She peered through the makeshift window and saw
Kane fighting one of the wraiths. Black magic tore through the
village, first aimed at Kane, then the wraith.

The malevolent hands relaxed their grip
and she moved closer to the scene. Her hands pressed against what
felt like a solid pane of glass, she watched as the demon fought
with heroic valor, then fell to his knees, left to the mercy of the
phantoms. Wielding the elements within the palms of their ghostly
hands, she watched helplessly as the large demon faced his
death.

“
Kane,” she whispered, her
breath caught in her throat.

So much of the fight had left him.
Sorrow was the only emotion he’d owned for so long. With the loss
of his wife, his father—and even his mother—he didn’t know if he
held the desire to continue.

Ever.
Kane flinched.
She’ll be without a father
unless I keep fighting.

Knelt before the encirclement of
shrouded beings, he considered his options. He could simply cower
before them, accept his unfortunate destiny and hope to move on to
the next world—or he could fight.

He chose the latter.

A surge of power rippled through him.
Not knowing where this newfound energy had manifested as he was out
of bloodstone and the pyramid still lay dormant, he embraced it.
Kane stood, driving his sword into the earth. A network of red
sparks frayed from the handle, each probing the ground with
purpose, searching for its prey.

The wraiths paused, glancing at one
another with uncertainty. Even Kane watched with awe as the energy
took on a life of its own. Kane’s blue eyes suddenly swirled with
streaks of scarlet and his aura swam with mists of
ebony.

“
Ego sum legio!”
his Baritone voice
boomed, sending a cascade of crimson lightning at the quartet of
wraiths surrounding him. Penetrating each of the phantoms in the
chest, they were propelled backwards and encased within cages of
red electricity.

Fate was immediately thrust from the
clutches of the living tornado, landing at Kane’s feet with a heavy
thud. Conscious, but obviously shaken, he helped her to standing.
The urge to embrace her, to console her, was overwhelming—and it
frightened him.