Facets of Feyrie Box Set, page 15
part #1 of Facets of Feyrie Series
Whoever trapped him to that rock didn’t think about what would be done to him. Any story that starts like this is always done by some self-righteous people who think they’re doing what’s best for everyone. They always think the one trapped will learn some kind of lesson.
All these things do is teach you to hate more.
“I’m going to break her, Beast,” Darvena says, smiling her crazy smile. The gem gets even brighter as the Magiks lash out and fully encompass me. I scream so loudly, my voice goes hoarse, and a piece of my soul withers and dies.
Can’t break. Can’t break. I chant over and over in my mind. Please, don’t let me break in front of them! I’ve lived so many years a prisoner—a slave, really—surviving against the odds, but through it all, I’ve never broken.
I’m not so sure that I won’t this time.
With my head thrown back, blood pours out of my nose and mouth, tracking down the sides of my face in hot rivulets. The bitch is cutting me into little pieces, inside to outside.
“Beg for your life, girl. Say those sweet words, and it will all be over,” Darvena says it so enticingly. Tempting even someone like me, but I know others have given in to such an offer. There was no mercy for them either. She steps close enough that the dagger strapped to her belt comes into view. The ties on it are open and loose. With her gloating face close to mine, she doesn’t see me reach forward with my right hand and slip it from the sheath.
I thrash a little, not faking the pain but hiding the movement, and tuck it up my sleeve.
No, I won’t be begging her for anything.
Something inside of me shifts and comes out to skitter across my skin—power. Finally. Gritting my teeth, I stop screaming. The pain dulls and becomes distant as my Magiks fully awaken. With the experience of practice, my body goes limp in Phobe’s arms. My lashes fall to hide the truth of it in my eyes. Darvena pulls my head up by my hair and then releases it to fall against my shoulder.
She thinks I’m unconscious and doesn’t realize that because of her I’ve perfected the fake pass-out.
“Leave the trash to die on the floor. Now, you will finish the task Arick ordered you to.” Darvena sounds so pleased, so freaking smug. She doesn’t realize that death is stalking her.
Phobe lays me gently on the floor and for several moments, kneels there beside me on the floor until the compulsion makes him climb woodenly to his feet.
Even at the worst moments in my life, I’ve never truly wanted to die—I don’t want to die now, but it’s how this kind of life works. In this case, I’m looking forward to being able to do the one thing that makes dying a little more bearable.
At last, my Magiks have chosen to completely wake up, with a bang even. I’m pretty sure that Phobe poking around inside of me helped but mostly because I’m not giving it a choice anymore. This time, at least, it’ll serve an actual purpose.
I peek through my lashes at Phobe’s ever serious face. There’s a strange look in his eyes, almost sad if I put a label on it. It pulls at my heart, that look. Hell, everything about him pulls at my heart. Something I’ll never share with him, especially now.
Time isn’t on my side, and I know what’s coming next, I’m counting on it. A lot of thought has been put into the events that are about to unfold. TBS is underway, and this is why I kept my mind and thoughts buried as deep as possible. He didn’t even find them when he managed to get through my shields as I was getting mutilated by Light Magiks. He’s even trying right now, which is amazing, considering his circumstances.
What Arick ordered him to do… that bastard deserves to be gutted and eaten like the fat peacock he is. For once in my life, I’ve been given a chance to do what needs to be done to ensure it. Phobe is the one being in creation that can make it happen.
Taking a careful, shallow breath, I mentally brace myself. My heart sputters a little, barely holding on. Don’t you dare stop working, not yet. It needs to hold on long enough for what’s coming. Pushing at my body to keep working is hard, but I refuse to allow the fucking thing to stop.
Not yet.
I pull on every speck of Magiks inside of me, even opening the door in my mind where all the bad stuff hides. There doesn’t need to be a lock on it anymore; I can use what’s hiding behind there to set one thing right before I draw my last breath. Something that makes this crappy life I’ve lead amount to something.
I open my eyes enough to see that once again, Phobe is kneeling in front of Arick. He moves over to speak with his associates, allowing Darvena to lean down to look into Phobe’s eyes. Yes, the stupid bitch did it. It’s her final mistake. Before anyone realizes I’m moving, I’m up, and with Darvena’s dagger in my hand, move towards her at a speed only Phobe can stop.
He doesn’t, of course.
The razor-sharp blade slides easily into Darvena’s throat. It’s too short to pass through the back of her neck, so I saw it side to side to make a deeper cut and keep her from screaming. To anyone looking at us, it’ll appear I’m embracing her—something she has done in the past while doing something painful in the process.
They’ll realize too late that I’m holding her up so I can feel the satisfaction as life leaves her body.
Calmly, I whisper in her ear, “He can get it up for me.” A smile stretches my tender mouth then I kiss her cheek, leaving a bloody lip print behind. Phobe is silent, watching from where he’s kneeling behind me. I can feel him there, feel his regard.
Over my shoulder, Darvena’s eyes plead with him to save her life as she gasps and chokes around the blood coming from her mouth. Seconds pass, and they fill with hatred as she realizes he isn’t going to and because I stabbed her this way she can’t use the stone against him. One thing that works in our favor is the order has to be spoken. Her eyes meet mine, and I let the pleasure of her death show on my face until the life completely bleeds out of them. Her body goes limp, and she becomes dead weight in my arms.
Stepping back, I let her lifeless body fall to the ground. Arick—the dumbass—finally realizing something isn’t quite right, yells her name and rushes to her, pushing me away in the process. The force of it sends me to the ground where I land in a heap. With the last bit of energy I have, I climb shakily to my feet.
“What did you do? She’s dead!” A deaf person would hear the false grief in his voice. As he pretends to care that she’s dead, he starts desperately searching for the stone on her corpse. Arick’s act of grief doesn’t last long once he realizes she doesn’t have it.
I do.
“Looking for this, asshole?” I ask quietly, smiling through the sticky mess coating my face. He looks over at me, stunned that I’ve spoken and discovers that I actually do hold the stone in my hand. He takes a step towards me. I smile, showing all my sharp teeth, my face hot with the victory.
‘It took me a while to remember, and I’m sorry about that. I read about you when I was a kid, one of my favorite stories. I don’t remember the whole thing, but I remember this part—the dying wish of a half-blood can destroy the stone,’ I say to Phobe, looking over at him.
His eyes are bright his mouth open in surprise, I try to laugh but end up coughing. That’s a look I’ve not seen often on his face.
Out loud, I whisper, “Thank you for being my everything.” All of that Magiks alive inside of me focuses on the stupid rock in my hand. With every atom of Magiks I possess, I crush it in my hand. The backlash blows my hair back as I open my hand. Fine, black dust is all that remains of the stone. Opening my fingers, I let it sift through them to the floor. The time of his slavery is at an end.
Smiling, I get to behold the release of the bindings tying him to it. The last binding severs as I fall bonelessly to the floor. My body is done, stubborn or not. The feeling of rightness, of knowing I did the right thing, gives me a warm feeling as he lifts off the ground. Faster and faster he spins in a vortex of power that’s making him whole for the first time in hundreds of years. As he spins his eyes, try to find me, but he’s spinning too fast to lock on.
It’s a glorious sight, and I’m glad I get to see it. Giving my life for his freedom is more than worth it. Phobe will take care of the problem that they represent.
With a roar, he lands with enough force to crack the stone floor beside me. Magiks crackle all around him, making little pops with bursts of static electricity. To say he’s magnificent is an understatement. The power is rolling around him like thunderclouds. Just as suddenly he’s beside me, lifting me off the ground into his arms.
The strength emanating from him gives me goosebumps. Oh, yes, this is how he should be. I’m done though. My eyelids feel like there are stones tied to them, I’m so tired. So tired. Fighting the pull to close them, I look up into his eyes and, just as my sputtering heart beats its last beat, I whisper, “I was right, you’re a beautiful monster.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The force of my Magiks prevents me from getting to Iza. In a million years, I never expected to be free or to be annoyed that I am. Getting to her is imperative because the foolish girl has done something profound.
Given her life for mine.
With a roar, I land, the jolt of the floor beneath my feet breaking bringing me out of the semi-haze I was in. For the first time in a millennium, my Magiks writhe around me… free. After being a prisoner for so long, a single wish from her has ended my enslavement. Her. Bending to one knee, I pull her tight against me.
Those multi-colored eyes—that always draw me in are dimmer than I’ve ever seen them. The spark that makes Iza who she is, is fading. And yet there’s this flicker of wonder in them as she stares at me, the monster who cost her life. “I was right, you’re a beautiful monster,” she whispers, and then with one last shaky breath—she’s gone.
Her head lolls when I give her a little shake, her eyes are half closed, devoid of life. I shake her again, still nothing. For the first time in a millennium, my power is alive and in full control beneath my skin, and I don't care. I don’t care because it came at the price of losing her.
Magiks thrash furiously around me, seeking an outlet for the rage smoldering inside of me. With a growl, I turn my head to stare at the pale faced Magistrate and his court, quaking behind him. He is the cause of this. I should kill him for it. No, I should kill all of them, but… I turn back to her and pull her closer, feeling the complete blankness that used to be so alive.
Inside of me, something shifts. There is something more important than any form of revenge.
Death has taken her. An ache goes through my chest, then another. A year ago, I faced a dilemma: whether or not to try and save her. There is no such dilemma this time.
Movement around me draws enough of my attention to see who it is. Jameson. Now he can finally serve a purpose other than potential food.
“You summoned me, my lord—” His words cut off on a gasp. “Is she dead?” Jameson’s voice echoes loudly in the silence of the room. All eyes turn to him except mine.
As I study her still face, something solidifies inside of me. Something I never contemplated the existence of but can’t deny.
“Not for long,” I whisper to myself. Shifting Iza to one arm, I take two steps and grab Jameson’s arm, he might be useful in the near future. Tapping into the returned power inside of me, I rip open a portal. Seeing the familiar purple and black hole, pulsing around a doorway of darkness finalizes the reality that I’m truly free.
All because of her.
“You will not run away from me, you coward!” Arick screams, throwing a fireball at my back. It dissipates harmlessly against my skin, and I turn partially to look at him as he launches another one, shadows swirl in front of me and devours it. I’m so hungry. I need fuel to save her. I smile again, all teeth and vengeful promises.
But first… tendrils lash out of me, grabbing three of Arick’s advisers around their throats. I can feel their clammy skin, taste their bitter fear. Smell it, even at this distance. Uselessly, they try to call upon their Magiks. Combined they’re strong, but not strong enough. All at once, they disappear into my hungry shadows, their Magiks giving me the energy I need to travel to the land of the dead.
“What in the hell are you doing?” Jameson demands. I give him a quelling look. He owes her this much. Energized enough to force my way into the most unwelcoming realm in existence, I step into the portal and pull Jameson along behind me.
“Getting her back,” I answer him to make him stop fighting me. It is annoying trying to restrain him and keep the grip I have on Iza. If I drop him, he’ll disappear into one of the thousands of worlds we’re portalling through.
The temptation to do that rises, and I ruthlessly smash it. Iza wouldn’t want me to do that.
“I don’t understand what’s going on here, but she’s dead. There’s no coming back from that.” Normally, there isn’t, but I’m not like them, and I will not be thwarted.
Pushing past the realm barriers, uncaring of any damage it causes, I navigate to the place I thought I’d never again see the place of my birth, the NetherRealm. Where all the worlds converge and overlap. It's like an alley between two houses, except it’s between worlds.
My eyes search out her face in the darkness, and an ache fills my chest at the utter stillness of her. When I look up, the membrane that protects the world of the dead from intruders looms ahead of me. Turning I hand her carefully to Jameson who gawks up at me like a startled bird.
“Protect her.” Not that I have faith he can do it, but there’s no other choice. I can’t take her body where I’m going.
“Where are you going? Why do I have to protect a dead body?” I ignore the questions and claw at the membrane. Pushing with my power as well, I eventually cleave a hole in it. The living are not welcome in this plane, and it fights back. With all of the strength at my disposal, I slash one final time and push my arm through. The wailing of the dead greets me from inside. Not everyone finds peace in death. Some find only the agony to pay back how they lived their life.
With one last glance at her still form clutched in Jameson’s shaking arms, I step the rest of the way through the portal. I ignore the clusters of floating spirits and seek out a specific place—the well of souls that houses those newly dead. This is where they come to be judged by the powers and rules that control this place.
“You don’t belong here, Darkness. Return to your master,” a voice echoes around me. Ignoring it, I keep walking, trusting the pull of the faint but familiar thread that will lead me to my goal.
“Stop, I say!” The voice is closer, and the smell of his surprise only pushes me to keep walking. “Who has sacrificed to free you from your shackles?” he demands. I continue walking. Her soul beckons to me.
“She is the one that freed you?” the voice asks more softly, the words thick with sadness.
My steps slow, but don’t stop. Why does this man express sadness about her death? Out of the darkness, a male form appears in my path, stopping me in my tracks. He’s almost my height, same dark hair. Swirling, glowing eyes glare at me from the gloom.
Familiar eyes.
“Leave her in peace,” he begs in a voice layered with emotions. I cock my head to the side to eye the ruler of this domain, Sergean, The Farrier of the Dead. The Eldest created to manage this place of souls that will move on and those that will remain here to pay for their crimes in life.
“You know her.” It isn’t a question. There is no doubt in my mind that he knows exactly who she is because I now know who he is to her.
Sergean looks over his shoulder in the direction I want and will go. “Have you come to harm her?”
For a moment, I consider not answering, then change my mind. “No.”
“Death is final. There is no return from it.”
“You will not keep me from her.” I will go through him and anyone or anything that stands in my path.
“Why come for her? We both know you are not a sentimental being.” I growl at Sergean’s words; he will get no explanation from me. Time is ticking by quickly, and I need to get to her, now.
“You care for her.” It is said with such shock that Sergean’s mouth is parted and his eyes are wide with it. After looking at me hard for a handful of seconds, he shuts his mouth and steps aside. Without another word, I move past him. Words are a waste of time, and I do not have any to waste.
“I tried to free you, but it was to no avail,” he calls after me. This I am aware of, and one of the two reasons I didn’t just send Death to his demise.
The other—he is Iza’s father.
Ahead of me, a dim light bathes her bodiless soul. Even as I watch, her soul sinks further into the clutches of death. Down into the mire, where other souls circle like stirred liquid, in the well that has no end. I leap the distance between us, punching the shimmering shield that stands as the last obstacle in my way.
‘Not yet Iza,’ I call to her, as a crack appears in the shield. Gritting my teeth, I hit it again. Harder. Finally, there’s movement, as a wispy arm lifts followed by the other.
‘Phobe?’ A ghostly whisper that encourages me to hit hard enough to make the shield begin to crack open like an egg.
Sergean appears next to the well and kneels to look at his daughter. My fists, my power, continue hitting the fracturing shield, unsure of Sergean’s intentions. I don’t think he’ll harm her, but he has the power to put her in a place that I’m not sure I can get into.
“Hello, dove,” Sergean greets with bright eyes and a soft smile. “It seems I’m not allowed to keep you.”
Sergean leans forward and pulls her from death's grasp. Staring down at her, with love shining in his eyes, he cradles her in his arms. As the shield crumbles before me, I’m already moving towards her. He meets me halfway with a very fatherly look on his face, as he looks down at the confused eyes of Iza. Iza who is looking at me instead of the man holding her in his arms.
