Dark World (Book I in the Dark World Trilogy) (39 page)

Suddenly she felt two hands upon her
shoulder. Electricity surged. Power like she’d never felt flowed
through her. And into Kane.

Her hands burned like embers as the
lightning ran down her arms and out her palms. Opening her eyes,
her entire body was aglow with hot, red energy. Kane’s body
radiated crimson.

With her palm on his chest, she waited.
Hoped.

Then, she felt the lightest
beat.

Then another.

His heart started thrumming a steady
rhythm.

He was alive!

Tears of joy stung her eyes. They’d
brought him back from the dead. But who had helped her?

Fate gazed over her left shoulder, then
her right.

Vale on one side.

The Oracle on the other.

Destiny

Vale held the Nexus in his hands,
fingers of blue electricity danced and probed within.

“
Are you sure this will
work?” Fate asked, sadness caught in her throat.

He shrugged as he traversed a careful
path through the mutilated bodies of necromancers. Fate cast a
hopeful eye at Aura, her broken body lying amongst her murdered
peers.

The scent of burning flesh and hair
wafted into the ballroom from outside, the remnants of the fallen,
both sides of the battle, cremated.

The Queen’s body was dismembered, then
incinerated. Kane’s orders. He refused to take any chances. Fate
agreed though couldn’t help but wonder if the act was more about
retribution than necessity.

Fate stole a long look over the
ballroom, her emotions mixed. So much death. Yet they’d been
victorious.

With their Queen dead, the remainder of
her shade army fled. Probably to regroup, though, without a leader,
who would they follow? What would their new purpose be? Their new
destiny?

Across the room, Kane carefully freed
Arcanum from the muzzle and bindings. Worry lines traversed his
handsome face.

Ever,
Fate thought as her gaze shifted to
the unconscious princess, her arms folded across her stomach,
silver hair framing her ivory face, blue eyes hidden behind sealed
lids. Fate’s heart mourned. How long would she sleep? No one could
wake her. No one knew why.

The cloaked Oracle stood beside Ever’s
body, her gloved hands hovering as though sensing, perhaps
healing.

“
Okay, it’s ready,” Vale
said, the Nexus now rested upon a tripod in the center of the
ballroom, pulsating.

“
Let’s do it.” Kane nodded
at Vale.

Vale whispered one word,
“
Mythos,”
and the orb came to life. Tendrils of energy ripped from
the sphere, probing and darting about the room, each bolt finding
one of the fallen necromancers.

Fate watched as the Nexus caressed
every one of the necromancers, almost lovingly. Nurturing them back
to life.

Aura was the first to
awaken.

She sat up, stretching as though she’d
only had a quick nap, glanced around and smiled.

“
What did I miss?” she
asked, her eyes wide and innocent.

Everyone chuckled. A welcome reprieve
from the heavy atmosphere.

After awakening, Vrill immediately
leaped to his feet, ran across the room and snatched the gilded box
containing the scrolls from their place on the buffet table. Safe
within his arms, he raced out of the room and up the twirling
staircase, no doubt to hide the precious pages.

Fate approached the Oracle, careful not to
disturb her as she worked on the princess.

“
Yes?” the hunched
prophetess inquired, seeming to have sensed the shade behind
her.

“
I…just wanted to thank
you,” Fate started, “I never could have brought him back without
your help.”

“
You’re welcome,” the crone
muttered, then said, “She had
this
on her, I am told by the spirits it is intended
for you.” The old woman handed Fate an amethyst vial.

“
What is it?”

“
A potion, I assume,” she
answered gruffly.

Fate sucked in a breath. Her cure. The
shaman had done it. Ever had brought it to her. Risked her life to
save her, and now, she might be lost to this world
forever.

Necromancers rose around them,
refreshed and apparently unaffected by their recent demise. Her
eyes on Ever, Fate wished it could be as easy for her.

“
I wonder why she won’t
awaken?” Vale asked, coming up behind them.

The Oracle stiffened. “I’m…attempting to
heal her.” Her voice seemed softer suddenly. Younger.

“
I have to ask you, Oracle,” Vale
began. “What race are you…I mean, with your healing abilities…” his
voice trailed off.

She turned around slowly, her face
buried deep within her cowl.

“
I suppose…” her voice
trembled, “…that I can trust you,” she said, her hands shaking as
they moved to pull back her hood. “You are, after all…my
brother.”

An enchantment released, the elderly
façade vanished. Silver hair shimmered as it was released from the
cloak, falling over her shoulders and framing her youthful
face.

Vale gasped as he lunged forward,
taking her into his arms.

“
Sybil!”

Fate’s eyes watered, her heart smiling.
He’d found her. He’d found his sister. After descending into a dark
world, sacrificing his life, his destiny, he’d finally settled his
debt with fate.

Stepping away from the joyous reunion,
Fate turned her eyes to her palms. Smooth as alabaster marble. No
marks. No lines telling her of a great destiny, children, a
husband. Nothing. According to her hands, she didn’t exist. Just a
barren surface of lost hopes and dreams.

“
What are you looking at?”
Kane’s baritone voice startled her. She hadn’t heard him come up
behind her.

She smiled, his presence warm as she
fell back onto his dark chest. “Nothing,” she replied bashfully,
balling her hands shut.

Waves of body heat wrapped around her
like invisible arms. He gently turned her to face him, his heated
hands settling on her shoulders. Blue eyes burning into hers, he
trailed his right hand down the length of her arm, the tips of his
talons dragging until they reached her own fingertips. Taking her
hand in his, he brought her palm up. He pulled his gaze from her
and examined the smooth, milky skin of her open hand.

His warm breath feathered across her
cheeks. “Can I see?”

She hesitated, wondering what he would
think of her if she had no real destiny. No purpose. She snapped
her hands closed. Ashamed.

Kane sighed, his blue eyes searching
hers. “Please?”

Finally surrendering, she exposed her
desolate palm. “I…don’t have any lines.”

His dark brows pulled together. “I
don’t understand.”

“
On the Surface, we have
lines on our palms, lines that are supposed to…tell us our
destiny.” Fate thought of Shelby, reading her future on the night
she…died. A lump rose into her throat.

“
Lines?”

Fate nodded, looking at her open palm
as he held it like a delicate flower. “I had a Life Line, a Heart
Line…a Line of Fate, now, there’s nothing.” Her voice quivered. “I
have no destiny. No fate.”

His lips pulled up at the corners, and
without a word, he raised his free hand, exposing his palm. Fate
gasped. It was as empty as hers. A blank slate.

“
But…” she started,
confused.

Kane released her hand, then cradled
her face within his palms, the burn from his fingertips sending hot
shivers down her spine.

His blue gaze locked with her blazing
white.

“
The Surface may wait for
destiny to happen to them, but down here…” He pulled her close, his
dark lips finding hers, “…we make our own.”

To be continued…