Night of Nyx (The Nightfall Chronicles 2.5) (3 page)

His muscles burn. Sweat drips into his eyes. He lunges, thrusts, moves through the dance of swords with the ease and skill of one trained long ago. One trained in the art of war. It is one of the most advanced forms, the Way of Erebus. An ancient practice lost to this world, but not to him.

Zorin remembers.

He knows what he must do tonight. He also knows it is a fool's plan, inspired by a fool's wish to save yet another person who has snuck into his heart.

"You put too much trust in her," Carter says as he steps onto the roof of the Cathedral, where Zorin is practicing.

Zorin does not slow his movements, his blade catching the light of the moon as it becomes a blur in his hands, moving so fast he could kill several opponents before they even knew he was there.

"You shouldn't be here," Zorin says as his sword hums.

"I should be where you are. It is she who should not be here."

Zorin stops. The action is sudden, and even the air currents struggle to keep pace with the tall man's change in trajectory. "We need her. She will save this world. And our people."

Zorin’s sword vanishes in his hands, a power of his blade, and he expands his wings.

Carter looks up at him, a frown on his weathered face. "She's dangerous."

"It has to be her. I am no longer the leader our people need. She is." Zorin steps to the edge of the roof. "Keep her safe while I am gone."

"Where are you going?"

"To save Nightfall."

***

Zorin has not flown like this since before his captivity. He can still feel the blood of his earlier meal filling him, strengthening him. He is quicker than any plane, flying at speeds so fast no mortal eyes would see him even if they could reach their vision to these heights.

It takes mere hours to travel from New York to Italy, to the place he has avoided since he lost his wife.

Dawn is just beginning to break on this side of the world, pink and golden rays of sun peeking out from the darkness. The villa he stands before is bathed in this virgin light, like a halo.

His heart pounds in his chest, and he remembers Danika. He remembers how they lay in the gardens, feeding each other sweet berries. How they walked the stone ivy-covered halls, her soft hand brushing against his. How they danced in the greatroom below a ceiling of stars.

The garden is overgrown now. The marble angel that still stands watch over Danika's grave is covered in vines. Zorin kneels before the marker, laying a hand on the angel as he closes his eyes, a single tear escaping down his cheek.

When he looks up, Danika is standing before him, glimmering in white light, dressed in the gown she wore on their wedding day. Her dark hair, long and lustrous, falls around her shoulders. She smiles in the way that is only for him.

"Hello, Andriy. I did not think you would ever come home."

The sound of her voice almost breaks him. He draws closer to her but knows he cannot touch this ghost of memory. "You are not real," he says to her.

She smiles. "I live within you, as I always have. I am real enough."

"You should not have died. It should have been me," he tells her. All these years he has tried to live a life she would be proud of, but it should have been her to live this life.

"What was meant to be has been. We cannot change that. You are meant to be here, my love. You have a destiny beyond ours."

"I would give it all up to have you in my arms one more night," he says honestly.

She kneels before him and lays her ghostly hands on his. He cannot feel her physically, but something shifts in him. "And I would give my life again and again to save yours. I chose my path. You must choose yours."

Her eyes are luminous, dark seas that pull him in. "I think I have found the one who can fulfill our dreams of equality for all. But am I doing the right thing? She will lose everything to be who we need her to be. How can I ask that of her?"

Danika smiles gently. "How can you take the choice away from her? Did she not choose this path, just as you have? Does she not control her own destiny?"

Zorin nods once.

Danika rises and he stands with her. "Why have you come, my love?" she asks.

"To become someone I once was." He pauses. "And to see you. You have always been my North Star."

He follows the memory of his wife into their old home. The foundation of the villa has stood the test of time, but the interior has turned to rubbish. It is dark, dank, full of mold and mildew. It smells of dead things long since rotted, but as Danika moves through the space ahead of him, the scene changes and he sees it as it was. Full of life.

Pots of herbs and flowers appear as she twirls through the halls. The stone is remade into something beautiful. The gargoyles that stand guard have their cracks vanish. And as they move into the hall, it fills with people dancing and laughing and eating and drinking. This is the night of their wedding.

The night Danika became a Nephilim.

"Should I have let you die that night in my arms? Would that have been an easier way for you to go?" he asks her as they walk through more memories.

She turns to him, smiling. "No. Every moment I had with you after our wedding was a miracle. We stole our days and nights after that, but I was not meant long for this world. I knew that from the beginning. I died to save you, and to save this world. That was my sacrifice. Yours was to lose me and still continue on our path. And you have done that."

She leaves the room, entering a secret passage behind a book case.

The memories fade and Zorin is once again standing in the ruins of a life remembered.

He follows her through the passage and down the steep winding stairs to a room he thought he'd never enter again.

But tonight he must.

He finds the trunk where he left it, and works the code to unlock it. Within is armor black as night, armor the world would recognize. He pulls it out and begins to dress in it as Danika watches.

"Can you be that person again, my love?"

"I must," he says as he slips his mask on. "Nyx is needed one last time."

King Varian of the House of Ravens commands the respect of the world… but somehow has failed to command the respect of his eldest son. A frustration that does not sit well on the powerful man's shoulders.

They sit around a large stone table at a villa in New York, in anticipation of his welcome to Castle Vianney and his new appointment in the Four Orders. All three of his children have begun their training there, and while Corinne and Wytt are mostly amenable to his unexpected arrival, Kai is clearly displeased.

"If you're here now, then I don't need to be. I came to keep an eye on Corinne and Wytt. I have no desire to be a Knight of any Order," Kai says, ignoring the meal placed before him.

Corinne and Wytt exchange worried glances.

Thane Blackthorn, their dinner guest, slurps at his soup. Varian wishes Kai had chosen a more private environment for this encounter. While Thane may have been raised with the Ravens, he is not one of them and never will be. But Varian must play nice with the 24-year-old Knight, as they will be working together now.

Thane's long blond hair is tied back at the base of his head, and he tugs on the ponytail as he continues to slurp. Varian resists the urge to smack him.

"Kai," Varian says with as much patience as he can muster, "you are the Prince of Ravens, and as such you need to attend Castle Vianney and become a Knight in the Order that chooses you. This is not negotiable. It never has been. Many would give anything to change fates with you."

Kai slams his silver wear on the table. "Then let them. I don't want my spot, so give it to someone who does."

Varian clenches his teeth. He loves the boy more than most people realize, but sometimes he wants to wring his handsome neck.

Thane speaks, his mouth still full of food. "You going to let him talk to you like that? If it were my kid, grown man or not, I would slap him for that insubordination."

All three of the kids who, it is true, are now all adults, turn to stare at Thane. Kai stands and stares down the Knight. "You want to try that yourself? Be my guest."

Varian stands and slams his fist on the table. "Enough!
"
He turns to Thane. "You are with my family and you will not disrespect them in my presence, do you understand?"

Thane shrinks in his seat, and Kai looks over at his father, surprise on his face.

They lock eyes for a moment and Kai nods, his expression softening a moment, then turns and leaves the room.

Varian falls back into his seat, no longer hungry for dinner
.
He excuses himself and heads upstairs to his private suite. The furnishings are fit for a king, with Eden designs woven into the room. The fire is lit and the bed, a luxurious affair with silk sheets and bamboo blankets, is turned down. He ignores the bed and heads for the large balcony that overlooks New York, taking a small wooden box from his desk with him.

The night is crisp, reminiscent of fall rather than late summer.

He opens the box and pulls out a single white candle, which he lights and sets on the balcony. He inhales deeply, closing his eyes. "I wish you were here, my love. You were a better parent than I could ever be. I need you. The kids need you. Kai most of all. I wish I knew how to be what he needs. I miss you."

He hears footsteps behind him and smiles a tired smile. He knew this was coming. He just didn't know when. He turns to the figure cloaked in black, hidden behind a white mask.

"I've been expecting you, Nyx."

"You're fighting a losing battle, Nyx. You always have been." Varian stands by the balcony, the white candle beside him flickering in the suddenly vicious wind. Rain begins to pour from the sky, drenching them both.

"You won’t have Nightfall," says Zorin. He doesn't wait for a response. He runs his body into Varian's and pushes him over the side of the balcony. Zorin's wings twirl around him, and he lands softly on the grass outside the villa. Varian rolls and lands on his feet. He wipes the mud from his face.

Zorin summons his sword and lunges.

Varian parries, and the ringing of steel fills the air. Thunder roars above.

And then the dance of death begins.

They move quickly, their blades clashing. To others, they would be little more than a blur. To Zorin, their movements are slow, precise, limited by their bodies. His mind thinks moments ahead, anticipating the next attack, the next feint. But Varian counters him at every turn. This is not a fight, but a chess match. He who sees further ahead shall win.

Zorin dashes into the sky where Varian cannot follow, a small pause to their game. The King is stronger and faster than he used to be. More genetic modifications, no doubt.

“You will not last a minute longer,” says Varian. “You know it is true.”

Zorin has calculated the possibilities, but he cannot surrender. Even if he can’t win, he must try.

Varian flicks his blade, turning it into a whip. He snaps it at Zorin’s feet, but the Nephilim spins away. He remembers this trick. He parries the next attack, trying to get closer to Varian, but Varian's whip keeps him at a distance.

Thunder claps in the sky, filling the air with the boom. Lightning streaks the sky.

"Father?"

The voice comes through the rain before the girl does. She's soaking wet and dressed in pajamas. Her hair is short and dyed blue. Princess Corinne. She is only a few meters away from Zorin. He could take her as a hostage, gain the advantage, end this for good.

Varian looks at his daughter and back at Zorin.

There is a moment.

A space between heartbeats.

Zorin turns to Corinne. "Get back in the house."

Varian sighs. "Do as he says, Corinne. I'll be fine."

Corinne pauses, then turns and runs away.

Varian faces Zorin again. "You could have won just now."

"It is your side who likes to hurt the innocent. I'm trying to protect them," Zorin says. He has one advantage. Varian does not want him dead, only captured. Zorin has no such limits.

"Your plan didn't work last time, Nyx. It's not going to work this time. Not even with Nightfall."

His whip and Zorin's blade dash through the air.

"This world will not survive the corruption of the Orders,” says Zorin. “It's the only way."

Varian shakes his head. "That was always your problem. You can only see one way, whereas I see many. Some of which allow us both to live."

The whip flicks around Zorin's throat, choking him, turning to blade and cutting him deeply.

He falls to the ground, his sword vanishing.

"You needed an army to win last time," Zorin says through blood as he stands up. "You couldn't defeat me alone."

"You've been out of practice, though, haven't you? And I'm stronger than I once was. The Pope made sure of that. I'm stronger and faster than any of your kind."

The whip cuts into Zorin’s legs, his arms. His strength fades. His vision grows dim.

No. Not yet.

He pushes forward, crashing into Varian, knocking the King's head against a boulder with a loud crack. The whip slackens.

And Zorin flies away.

***

Zorin flies as far as his body will let him, collapsing near a mountain ridge. He lays there, his body broken and bleeding as the rain pours down.

The thunder shakes the ground, but does not wake him.

It is not until he hears her voice that he stirs.

"Andriy, my love, this is not your time to leave this earth."

His eyes peel open slowly. Danika is kneeling beside him, her ethereal hand resting on his face. "Wake up. You must heal. She still needs you."

He feels the pain of his injuries in every molecule of his body as he pushes himself out of the mud and water and rolls onto his back. The rain pelts his face, cleaning off the dirt and blood. "I have already failed her."

"You will only fail her if you give up now and die. So don't. You need to feed. To heal. To return to her."

Zorin turns his head to the side, to look at his dead wife. "There are no animals here to feed on. Perhaps this is best. We could be together again."

Would he be with her? He doesn't know, but he wants more than anything to find out. To hold her again.

He hears the cries of an animal not far off, and he looks over. A deer has broken its leg. Its pained voice carries through the storm.

"Go," Danika says. "Feed. Heal. This is not your time."

Zorin crawls over to the deer. It looks at him without fear, only pain and misery.

"I will make this quick, friend." He snaps the deer's neck, putting it out of its misery—and then he feeds.

As the blood pours into him, he feels his body mend and repair, his strength return, his vision grow clearer. He is not done yet.

Nightfall needs him.