Dark World (Book I in the Dark World Trilogy) (35 page)

Kane opened his mouth for the flood of
questions he had, but Vrill silenced him.

“
She captured a fragment of
her soul within this orb, then gave it to us for safe keeping,
stating that I should use it to create more of my kind. She told me
how and…” He clapped his hands together. “…well, here we
are.”

Sensing his moment to interrupt, Kane
asked, “Who is this being?”

Vrill nodded. “We’re getting to that.
Now, when your father turned off the Crystal Pyramid, our beloved
maker began to die.” His eyes dimmed and silver lips downturned.
“She doesn’t have long. We need to relight the pyramid to give her
immortality again. To save her.”

Kane took in a deep breath and exhaled
loudly. This was a lot to take in all at once. The necromancers had
stolen the demons’ scroll—but for a very good reason. A very
powerful being, whom Kane had never heard of, was dying and needed
the light of the Crystal Pyramid. The scrolls seemed to be written
in riddles, making his task that much more difficult. And to top it
off, one of the scrolls was on the Surface, which meant…what? How
could they open the fissure without all the scrolls
together?

His head began to hurt.

“
Okay,” Kane said, rubbing
his temples with the pads of his black fingertips. “First question,
who is this being? Your maker?”

Vrill smiled, uttering one word,
“Myth.”

Kane suppressed a growl, he wasn’t in
the mood for games. “What? She’s a myth?”

“
No,” the necromancer
clarified. “Her name is Myth.”

“
What is she? A goddess? A
new race?”

Vrill smirked. He seemed to be enjoying
playing with Kane, being coy with him. Shaking his head, he
replied, “No, she’s the lost elemental…aether.”

What Lies Within

“
The ceremony is about to
begin,” a female servant announced politely, standing in Fate’s
doorway one moment, then vanishing just as quickly.

“
Thank you,” Fate mumbled, a
fresh flurry of nerves streaming through her stomach.

Kane was going to be there. She just
knew it. Why wouldn’t he be? He was probably going to be the guest
of honor or something. Resentment gathered in her chest. She
couldn’t forgive him for his venomous remark in the
garden.

“
Shades can’t be
trusted.”
His
words rang through her thoughts. Images of the slaughtered sphinx
and unicorn flickered forth, reminding her of the monstrous nature
lurking inside.

Maybe he’s right.
Fate hung her head,
a wisp of silver hair falling forward.
I’m not that girl anymore. I’m not
Scarlet anymore. I’m a killer.

The velvet voice, which always
appeared when vulnerability dared expose itself, slithered into her
thoughts,
“Come home, my daughter, come home.”

Again the urge to find this wayward
mother of the underworld was all-consuming. She seemed to be the
only person who truly wanted her.

Fate sighed, stealing one last
glance in the mirror. A beautiful killer stood before her, empty
eyes staring back. The windows to a soul that wasn’t there. How
much of a soul is required for someone to still exist? She thought
of Aura, her body now occupied by a soul shared by thousands. Is
she still
herself
? Her dreams? Her memories? Or is she now a facet of a
diamond? Beautiful, yet indistinct?

Homesickness suddenly reared its
redundant head. Still, she yearned to go home. Sure, she was a
nobody there. An average teenage girl with no special gifts. She
was certainly not an heir to an entire realm up there on the
Surface. She was just Scarlet up there. Average. Normal.
Boring.

Her brow knitted together, an
epiphany sorting through her thoughts. She was
somebody
here. She had powers.
Unfathomable strength. And she was dangerous.

What would it be like to
be…like this…on the Surface?

Her palms slid over her sleek, potent
body as though they had a devious mind of their own. On the
Surface, she’d died a victim. A little girl—a mere human—incapable
of saving herself.

“
Rory,” she growled, the
name like venom on her tongue.

A dark smile pulled across her lips,
the beginnings of a plan germinating.

Raising her head high, she walked out
the door, ready to face a room of strangers.

And Kane

“
Here you are, your
highness,” said the female necromancer escorting Kane to his room.
He nodded in appreciation and she politely excused herself with a
quick bow.

After what felt like hours of
discussing tactics and strategies to obtain the remaining scrolls,
Kane finally allowed the wave of exhaustion to consume him. The
journey from the demon city, the weight of finding Fate, the
scrolls, all blended into a muddy pool within his
thoughts.

So many secrets. So many lies. He had
no idea who to believe anymore. Elder Ozen had brought him up.
Taught him everything he’d need to know to be king. Why then, did
it all feel like a lie? Why was there so much he didn’t
know?

During their talks, Vrill stated his
spies had confirmed Malus indeed had at least one scroll. The
wraiths’. That meant there were three scrolls to retrieve, Malus’s,
the reapers’ and, of course, the one on the Surface.

Impossible!

He just couldn’t wrap his head around
how that would work. Maybe his father had designed it that way. To
make sure no one could ever open the fissure again. But why? Why
would he have created such a hopeless situation? Had he intended to
turn off the Crystal Pyramid? Leaving the demons vulnerable?
Mortal?

Kane stood in the doorway and scanned
the room, the décor falling somewhere between luxurious and
macabre. A stately bed, headboard and supports of skeletal remains,
stood before him draped in gold and burgundy silks. A grand
chandelier hung overhead, centered over a cushy mattress, its
components a mixture of diamonds, emerald, and, a rarity,
pearls.

His head down, the polished marble
floor blurrily reflected his image as he took a few tentative steps
further into the foreign quarters.

To his left, a black tunic hung from a
closet door. Just his size. A bitter taste slid past his tongue.
These beings—these silver humans—knew too much. They were too
psychic for his comfort. Kane again thought of the old Oracle, her
petite, hunched frame, and again pondered her race. If she was a
necromancer, wouldn’t she be telepathically linked to her kind? To
Vrill?

He shrugged, walking to the closet and
retrieving the formal wear from its perch. Donning the outfit, the
velvety suede brushing against his demon skin, he couldn’t help but
feel hopeful. Fate was going to be as this ceremony. He had to tell
her. He couldn’t risk losing her again.

He gave a quick look to his sword,
contemplating whether or not to wear it to the party. Seemed
silly—even insulting—to wear it. The necromancers would surely
think him paranoid for doing so. But he didn’t trust them. Not
yet.

Slinging it over his shoulder, his
thoughts fell on Fate again.

Maybe she doesn’t even want
me.
His heart
sank. How arrogant of him to think she’d actually desire him in
return. What made him think she had any feelings for him? She’d
never professed any sort of affection for him. In fact, she’d run
away. That alone should tell him her true feelings.

He sighed, his sight falling to the
floor. Indecision loomed. Kane faced the mirror, luminous blue eyes
brimming with uncertainty stared back at him.

He couldn’t deny it any longer. It was
time to face the facts.

Kane raised his shoulders, inhaled
large and gave a final glare at his reflection. He then turned his
large demon body about, hooves clomping loudly against the marble
floor, and swiftly made for the door.

“
No more child’s play,” he
uttered under his breath.

He shut the door behind him and moved
down the darkened hall. His large hand slid along the banister, the
smoothness of the polished bones like silk beneath his
palm.

Following the curve of the railing,
he’d already descended one step when he felt eyes upon him. He
lifted his head, locking stares with the one person he longed to
see most.

Fate.

With her locks gathered on her crown
and teal gown hugging her every curve, he had to force a breath
into his captivated lungs. Envy trickled through him as he eyed the
silvery tendrils of hair caressing the gentle slopes of her jaw. It
was then he realized she wasn’t wearing the mask. Her ebony lips
twisted into a sweet pout as she stood before him. A tortured
longing wrapped around his heart.

“
Hi,” he finally managed to
say, staring into her cool, narrow gaze. She crossed her arms over
her chest, forming a shield between the two of them.

“
Hello,” she returned, her
voice laced with frost.

“
I’m glad you’re okay,” he
said taking a cautious step up, moving towards her. “I was worried
about you…after you left.”

She raised her chin indignantly, waves
of hostility rippled from her, flowing in his direction.

She’s angry with me.
His heart sank. Of
course she would be. He’d been so insensitive. It was unforgivable,
but he had to try.

“
Fate,” he said quietly,
taking a step towards her. “I’m so sorry…for the way I behaved.”
Seeing her unresponsive and hugging herself tighter, he pressed on.
“I never meant to hurt you…”

Her head snapped up, eyes boring into
his as she interjected with venom, “But you did.”

Kane nodded, defeated. He wished so
much that he could erase what he’d said that day. Start again. “I
can only say I’m sorry.”

“
Sometimes,” she started,
taking a step towards him, the chill of her skin slicing him as she
brushed past, “sorry isn’t enough.”

Transparency

Ever sat curled up against Arcanum’s
mighty belly, his deep breathing soothing her aching soul. Her
father had been gone for quite some time and the geysers now
signaled the late hour.

Absentmindedly, she picked at a speck
of dirt encrusting one of the pale stones surrounding her,
wondering if she should just go home, her hope for adventure marred
by her father’s protectiveness.

She measured her father’s behavior over
the last few years. He’d become so withdrawn. So sullen. Then Fate
came along and Ever saw fire in his eyes again. A reason to live. A
reason to fight. Then he messed it all up by chasing her
away.

Yes, he was very stubborn, and he
blamed the shades for his loved ones’ deaths, but not everyone is a
slave to their species. His inability to let go of stereotypes was
frustrating. Ironically, the literature they’d discovered in the
Atlantean library depicted demons as heartless, soul-thirsty beings
that terrorized the humans. If they’d only known the
truth.

But Fate didn’t belong in the shade
category. She was different. A diamond among coal. If only her
father had seen it in time.

Ever suppressed a shudder, a sensation
she shouldn’t feel considering the atmosphere that cradled her. The
Opal Meadows hummed with a calm resonance that should have left her
with a feeling of peace. But it didn’t. She frowned, trying to
decipher what she was sensing.

Something was brewing in the air,
swirling around her with evil intent.

Something was coming.

She scanned the path from which they’d
come, a writhing shadow hovered along the plain. An army of
darkness thundered across the earth, its beat akin to a thousand
pounding hooves.

Panic clawed its way to the surface of
her soul. Her infrared blue eyes narrowed, scrutinizing the distant
landscape. The sands of the Crimson Desert rolled towards the Great
Wall like a tsunami.

What is that?

Her eyes flitted from the sleeping
dragon to the looming sand wave. What should she do? She’d surely
be seen trying to escape.

Hide under my wing,
Arcanum’s gentle
voice suddenly sounded in her mind. He’d awakened. Relief washed
over her as his coppery scales faded to an opalescent white,
merging with the rocks around him.

Ever moved quickly, sheltering herself
beneath his slightly lifted wing. He then brought his appendages
around his body, pulling the princess close to his body. To the
outside world, he’d appear as a huge, alabaster stone.

Though a tad squished, Ever felt much
safer. Peering out a slim crack between his back and wing, she
could still see the oncoming phenomenon.

What’s going on? I’m
afraid,
Ever
sent the dragon.

He paused, she sensed his
trepidation.

Tell me! Please! What is
that?

A tremble resonated throughout her
body.

The great dragon sighed
quietly.