“There’s no time to explain,” I said. “I have to get onto the fields immediately. People will die if I don’t.”
“Then do it.” Quinn climbed out of bed and walked to the wardrobes that lined one wall of their bedroom. “No one will get past us.”
I hoped he was right, but it wasn’t like I was going to be around to find out. I sat cross-legged on the thick, cushiony carpet, saw Quinn open a door and reach for
the weapons within, then closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
As I released it, I released awareness of everything around me, concentrating on nothing more than slowing the frantic beat of my heart so I could free my psyche, my soul—or whatever else people liked to call it—from the constraints of my flesh.
That
was what the Raziq were following—not my flesh, but my spirit. I hoped they would follow me onto the fields and not wreak hell on the two people I cared about most in this world.
As the awareness of everything around me began to fade, warmth throbbed at my neck—a sign that the charm Ilianna had given me when we’d both still been teenagers was at work, protecting me as my psyche pulled free and stepped onto the gray fields. Here the real world was little more than a shadow, a place where those things that could not be seen on the living plane became visible. It was also the land between life and death, a place through which souls journeyed to whatever gateway was their next destination, be it heaven or hell.
But it was far from uninhabited. The reapers lived here, and so did the Raziq who remained.
And right now it was a dangerous place for me to be. The Raziq could move far faster here than I could. My only hope was reaching the Aedh temples that surrounded and protected the gates.
I turned and ran. The Dušan immediately exploded from my arm, her energy flowing through me as her serpentine form gained flesh and shape, became real and solid. She swirled around me, the wind of her body buffeting mine as her sharp ebony gaze scanned the fields around us. Looking for trouble. Looking to fight.
I had to wonder whether even she would have any hope against the Raziq. Because they were coming. The thunder of their approach shook the very air around us.
Fear surged, and it lent me the strength to go faster. But running seemed a hideously slow method of movement, even if everything around me was little more than a blur. I wished I could transport myself to the temples instantaneously, as Azriel had in the past, but I wasn’t yet of this world, even if I was destined to become a Mijai upon death.
The Dušan’s movements were becoming more and more frantic. I swore and reached for every ounce of energy I had left, until it felt as if I were flying through the fields of gray.
But even when I reached the temples, I felt no safer. This place was as ghostly and surreal as the rest of the fields, but it was also a place filled with impossible shapes, high, soaring arches, and honeycombed domes sitting atop floating towers. Yet it no longer felt as empty as it had the first time I’d come here. There was an awareness—an anger—here now, and it filled the temple grounds with a watchful energy that stung my skin and sent chills through my being.
I stopped in the expanse of emptiness that divided the temple buildings from the simply adorned gates to heaven and hell. The Dušan surged around me, her movements sharp, agitated. I tightened my grip on Amaya as I turned to face the oncoming Raziq. Amaya began to hiss in expectation, the noise jarring against the watchful silence. But none of the priestly remnants appeared or spoke. I had no doubt they were aware of my presence, but it seemed that, for now, they were content to watch.
Leaving me hoping like
hell
that I hadn’t been wrong, that they
would
interfere if the Raziq got too violent.
But it wasn’t like I had any other choice now, anyway. They were here.
Electricity surged, dark and violent. Without warning, both the Dušan and I were flung backward. I hit
vaporous ground that felt as hard as anything on Earth and tumbled into the wall of a building that stood impossibly on a point.
Amaya was screaming, the Dušan was screaming, and their joint fury echoed both through my brain and across the fields. The Dušan surged upward, briefly disappearing into grayness before she dove into the midst of the Raziq, snapping and tearing at the beings I couldn’t see, could only feel. A second later, she was sent tumbling again.
If they could do that to a Dušan, what hope did I have?
Amaya screamed again. She wanted to rend, to tear, to consume, but there were far too many of them. We didn’t stand a chance . . . and yet, I couldn’t give up—not without a fight. Not this time.
I pushed to my feet, raised Amaya, and spit, “Do your worst, Malin. But you might want to remember you still need me to find that last key. And if you kill me, I become Mijai and beyond even
your
reach. Not something you’d want, I’d guess.”
For a moment, there was no response; then that dark energy surged again. I swore and dove out of the way, and the dark energy hit the building that loomed above me. Its ghostly, gleaming sides rippled, the waves small at first but gaining in depth as they rolled upward, until the whole building quivered and shook and the thick, heavy top began to crumble and fall. I scrambled out of the way only to feel another bolt arrowing toward me. I swore and went left, but this time I wasn’t quite fast enough. The energy sizzled past my legs, wrapping them in heat, until it felt as if my flesh were melting from my bones.
A scream tore up my throat, but I clamped down on it hard, and it came out little more than a hiss. I wasn’t flesh; I was energy.
This
was nothing more than mind games.
Mind games that felt painfully real.
Damn it, no! If I was going to go down, then I sure as hell was going to take some of these bastards with me.
Amaya, do your worst.
And with that, I flung her as hard as I could into the seething mass of energy that was the Raziq. They scattered, as I knew they would, but Amaya arced around, her sides spitting lilac flames that splayed out like burning bullets. Whether they hit any targets, I have no idea, because I wasn’t about to hang around waiting for another bolt to hit me. I scrambled to my feet and ran to the right of the Raziq. Amaya surged through their midst, still spitting her bullets as she returned to me. The minute she thumped into my hand, I swung her with every ounce of strength and anger within me. Steel connected with energy and the resulting explosion was brief but fierce and would have knocked me off my feet had it not been for my grip on my sword. Amaya wasn’t going anywhere; she had a soul to devour, and devour she did. It took barely a heartbeat, but that was time enough for the rest of the Raziq to rally. Again that dark energy swept across the silent watchfulness of the temple’s fields, but this time the invisible blow was broader, cutting the possibility of diving out of its path.
Amaya, shield!
I dropped to one knee and held Amaya in front of me. Lilac fire instantly flared out from the tip of her blade and formed a circle that encased me completely.
And just in time.
The dark energy hit the barrier, and with enough force that it pushed me backward several feet. Amaya screamed in fury, her shield burning and bubbling where the Raziq’s energy flayed her. She held firm, but I had to wonder for how long. Not very, I suspected.
Damn it, where were the remnants? The Raziq were the reason we were all in this mess—they were the reason the priests were dead. Did they not realize that? Did
they not want to avenge that? I knew Aedh were supposedly emotionless beings, but they were not above pride and they certainly weren’t above anger. Surely the priests had to feel
something
about their demise.
But what if they didn’t know or care?
Maybe it was time to remind them of their duty to protect the gates.
“Killing me won’t solve your current problem, Malin.” I had to shout to be heard above both Amaya’s screeching and the thunderous impact of the dark energy against her shield. I had no idea where the Dušan was, but she was still very much active if her bellows were anything to go by. “As long as there’s one key left, you—as an Aedh priest—cannot be free from the responsibility of caring for the gates. If you so desperately want to close the gates permanently and therefore end your servitude to them, then you’re better off trying to sweet-talk me.”
“Sweet-talk?” The voice was feminine and decidedly pleasant. There was none of the malevolence I could feel in the dark energy, yet it nevertheless sent chills down my spine. Malin could charm the pants off a spider even as she dissected it piece by tiny piece. She’d dissected me once. That time, at least, she’d put me back whole, though not entirely the same. And while Azriel certainly knew what she’d done to me, he wasn’t saying anything. This time, however, I suspected she would not be so generous. “You defy us at every turn, you do not take our threats seriously, and you expect us to simply accept your games of misdirection? Since when did insanity become a thread in your being?”
“I’m guessing it happened the day you lot entered my life.” It probably wasn’t the wisest thing to say, but hey, what the hell? It wasn’t like she could get any angrier. Although the fresh burst of energy that hit Amaya’s shield very much suggested I was wrong. And the fact
that
she
was no longer screaming was an ominous sign her strength was weakening.
Is,
she muttered. If there was one thing my sword hated, it was admitting she wasn’t all-powerful.
Yours must draw soon.
Her drawing on my strength was the very last thing
I
wanted right now, but again, until Malin and the rest of the Raziq calmed down a tad, it wasn’t like we had another choice.
Presuming, of course, they
would
calm down.
“And insanity aside,” I continued, “it doesn’t alter the fact you still need me to find the final key.”
“Not if we’ve now decided it would be better to destroy both the gates that are opened and the one that is not.”
My body went cold. If they did
that
, then heaven help us all. Hell would be unleashed both on the fields and on Earth, and I very much suspected neither world would survive.
But would the fates and the priestly remnants allow that?
Their continuing silence—at least when it came to the Raziq—very much suggested they might.
“The mere fact you make such a threat shows just how far the Raziq have fallen.” Azriel’s voice cut across the noise and the anger that filled the temple grounds as cleanly as sunshine through rain. Relief made my arms shake, and tears stung my eyes. I blinked them away furiously. It wasn’t over yet. Not by a long shot. It was still him and me against all of them.
“You no longer deserve the name of priests,” he continued, voice ominously flat. “And you certainly no longer have the umbrella of protection such a title endows.”
“Do
not
make idle threats, Mijai.” Any pretense of civility had finally been stripped from Malin’s voice. It
was evil personified; nothing more, nothing less. “We both know you would not dare to violate the sanctity of this place.”
“Not without the permission of the fates,” he agreed. “And
that
we now have.”
With those words lingering ominously in the air, he appeared.
And he wasn’t alone.
Chapter 2
Azriel stood on the far side of the massed Raziq, his casual stance belying the fury in his eyes and the fierceness of his grip on Valdis. In this ghostly, gray-clad world, he shone with a light that was intense and golden, and it cut through the shadows as brightly as the sun.
Behind him stood another eight Mijai. All of them were battle scarred—some more so than even Azriel—and all of them radiated a savage desire to fight. But then, the Raziq were the reason so many of them had those scars. The sorceress may have opened hell’s gates—thereby allowing so many demons to breach the remaining barrier—but it was the Raziq who’d made the keys that had enabled her to do it.
If what Azriel had said was true—and he wasn’t given to lies or exaggeration—then for the first time in a
very
long time, the powers that be had given the Mijai permission to do something more than merely hunt down the escapees from hell. They’d given them the power to deal with the very people who’d
caused
this mess in the first place.
Which—considering they hadn’t stopped what had basically amounted to the genocide of the Aedh—was one big damn step. And one that showed just how tenuous the current situation was to both the gray fields and Earth.
But there was another, more personal, benefit to
Azriel’s sudden appearance—it had drawn Malin’s attention away from me, and
that
meant the thick beam of energy no longer assaulted Amaya’s shield.
Drop can?
Amaya asked.
I hesitated, my gaze flickering to the turgid mass of energy that was the rest of the Raziq. They seemed to have gathered behind Malin, and none of them appeared to be paying any particular attention to me—although it was a little hard to be certain given that they were all concealed from my sight. Still, with the shield sucking strength from both Amaya
and
me, it was better to err on the side of caution and use it only when absolutely necessary.
Besides, while I didn’t doubt either the fighting skills or the determination of the reapers, they were still outnumbered two to one. I needed to keep as much strength on hand as I could, because once the attention of the Raziq was no longer held by the reapers, some of those “spare” Raziq would undoubtedly come after me.
I took a deep breath that really did little to bolster my courage, then said,
Yeah, do it.
The lilac flames retreated instantly. I waited, tension rippling through every particle, ready to flee the instant anything
remotely
resembling an attack headed my way.
Nothing happened. I didn’t relax, however. Just because they weren’t attacking didn’t mean they soon wouldn’t.