The Elemental Diaries - Complete Series

by Andrea Lamoureux

  We came to a wooden board lying on the ground at the end of the cells. An unnaturally tall man with a hunched back waited beside it. The hood of his black robe hid his face, but I could tell he nodded to my escort.

  The two pushed the board back, uncovering the pit specifically dug for me and the other elementals.

  My guard straightened and made to push me in.

  I gripped his arm. “Don’t. You’ll open my wounds again. The Dark Lord wants me alive.”

  He cracked a grin. And then he picked me up, lowered me into the hole, and dropped me.

  A water skin followed me into the pit, landing at my feet.

  The hooded man slid the board back in place, sending me back into a darkness I was beginning to become too familiar with.

  Chapter 28

  I shuffled my way through the darkness around the wall of the pit until my leg hit a lump. I swept my hand down, my fingers tangling with knotted hair. “Phyra?”

  She pushed my hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

  I sank down beside her.

  Silence filled the pit. I let it drag on.

  The fire elemental was the one to break it. “My mother should’ve been dead long ago.”

  I turned my face toward her. “I don’t understand.”

  I heard her shift her position, but she didn’t bother to call to her flame to light our prison. The darkness covered her in a blanket, protecting her from seeing my reactions. “My mother planned to assassinate my cousin, Queen Adelaide, to enable me to take the throne, the one I hoped to never claim.” When I didn’t reply, she continued. “I overheard her plotting, so I left Addy a letter, and then I ran away so my mother wouldn’t be able to force the crown upon my head.”

  “What did your letter say?”

  She sniffed. “It was a letter of farewell. I warned her to trust no one, but I didn’t inform her of my mother’s treachery. A mistake I’ve come to regret. If I’d have condemned my mother to death, perhaps we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

  “Yes, we would,” I told her plainly.

  She gripped my arm. “No, we wouldn’t. She let King Zaeden into Solis. Addy is possessed by a filthy spirit because of her!”

  I wrenched my arm away. “King Zaeden’s dead. Vesirus didn’t need your mother to take Solis. He would’ve found another way. Quit being foolish.”

  Her high-pitched sob cut through the darkness. “I tried to save her life, but in the end, she died by my flame.”

  I pinched my lips between my teeth. “Give us light.” She continued to cry, so I repeated. “Give us light, Zephyra.”

  She gathered herself enough to emit an orb of flame. It floated like a ball of bright gold in the center of the circular space.

  I moved to crouch before her and grabbed the sides of her face with both of my hands. “Pull yourself together. We’ll never get through this if you fall apart.”

  “Is this—is this how life is to be from now on?” she whispered between my palms.

  I pulled away from her. “No.”

  Though I’d denied it, I’d begun to wonder if we’d ever free ourselves from the Dark Lord’s grasp myself. Chel and Seph hadn’t shown up yet, but I supposed that could be a good sign. Unless they were already dead. I didn’t know if Ramiel could help us. That left… “Percifal. Have you seen any sign of him?”

  She closed her shadowy, hollowed eyes and shook her head. “I haven’t. I fear he’s been slain along with the soldiers of this kingdom who didn’t bow to Vesirus.”

  “He could’ve escaped.”

  Her mouth drooped. “What chance does anyone have at survival in a dark world like Mnyama?”

  I stared into the burning orb. Her question gave me an idea. I’d have to wait and see if an opportunity presented itself. And it depended on whether I was right about the Dark Lord’s motivations. It might be a long shot, but it was better than rolling over and giving up.

  We shared the water skin, only taking one swallow whenever our throats felt like they were full of sand. We didn’t know when we’d be given more… if we’d be given more. We had to make what we had last.

  My empty stomach ached. No one bothered to bring us food. I assumed a few days had passed since our capture, but I couldn’t tell how long without being able to count meals or see the sun. I remembered the crimson sky that had fallen on the world outside and wondered if it had transformed again with the rising darkness.

  I slept most of the time, weakened without sustenance. I awoke once to another water skin landing right behind my head on the packed dirt. A thick layer of grime coated my skin, and I cringed as I tried to run my fingers through my clumped up, gritty locks. I still drew breath, yet I felt as though my spirit was already condemned to Mnyama. If Vesirus held onto my realm and I died, I wondered, would I be trapped with him for all eternity? I’d never see my mother again. I gripped her diamond necklace and tried to stop my chattering teeth.

  Eventually, the wooden ceiling of the pit slid open, and a rope slithered down from the top.

  “The Dark Lord requests your presence this evening,” a guard with slicked back hair informed us.

  My eyes met Phyra’s as I said lowly, “Follow my lead.”

  Her forehead creased, but I turned and took the rope in both hands. My arms shook as two men pulled me up, the guard and the hooded man with the hunched back I’d seen last time.

  They dragged me up slowly. I blinked, my eyes watering as the wall crumbled and dust clouded my face.

  The guard helped me to my feet, and I spit out a mouthful of dirt. I hated that I needed his help to stand. I needed to eat before I became too weak to fight. I tried to wrench away from the too thin man with glowing eyes, but he wouldn’t let go until my wrists were chained together. He hooked the remainder of the chain to his belt. Once he believed I couldn’t run away, he helped the hooded man pull Phyra up.

  Her pale hands appeared first, and then they each clasped one of her wrists and hauled her up over the edge. In the torchlight, I could tell her skin looked ashen beneath the filth. Her usually bright hair fell in dull knots over her slender shoulders. And the fire in her eyes had turned to nothing but embers ready to burn out into cold, black coals. We needed to get out soon.

  The guard bent down and picked another length of chain up off the dungeon floor and motioned for Phyra to put out her wrists.

  “Is that really necessary?” I asked, annoyed. “We’re obviously in no position to run away. We have no weapons.”

  He laughed through closed teeth. “I know you have powers. I’m not stupid.”

  “Could’ve fooled me,” I muttered.

  He yanked on my chain so hard I almost lost my balance.

  I scowled at him.

  The hooded man stayed quiet. I tried to see his face beneath the shadow of his cloak, but he turned away, leaving the skinny guard to take care of us.

  I peered into the cages as we walked by them, searching for a face I recognized. The prisoners who weren’t asleep stared back with bleak, hopeless gazes. None of them belonged to Percifal or the other elementals. Perhaps they were already dead, and no one was coming to our aid. I couldn’t keep holding out hope. It was up to me and Phyra to save the realm. I wouldn’t give up until I no longer drew breath.

  We were taken upstairs to the main floor. No demons, wraiths, or possessed soldiers were there to watch us this time. In fact, except for a few torches lighting the expansive space, I could see no other signs of life. Darkness pulled at that little bit of firelight from the high windows, threatening to eat it up like it had the rest of the realm.

  We wound through the halls, and I realized exactly where we were heading. The Diamond Hall.

  We were pulled through the giant doors and into the crammed hall. No wonder the main floor was void and silent. It appeared every single one of the Dark Lord’s demons, wraiths, and soldiers occupied the Diamond Hall. Even the humans were squeezed in between dark creatures.

  Sweat pooled on my back. I tried to breat
he deeply, the air thick with the stench of blood and sweat and nightmares. The small number of candles lighting the area made shadows dance over the faces of the occupants. The once grand crystal chandelier hung crooked and broken from the ceiling. Blood and muck smeared the diamonds on the walls, which used to cast tiny rainbows around the hall, keeping their light from shining.

  At the center of it all, Vesirus watched his minions from a dais constructed of rock and soil. He sat on a throne of bones. More flesh had peeled from his face, showing off black tendrils that appeared like smoke swirling from beneath. Orange light from the fire burning at each of his sides flashed in his solid silver eyes as he waited while Phyra and I were brought to stand below the dais.

  “Ah,” the Dark Lord began, leaning forward on the edge of his seat. “My guests of honour have arrived.”

  “What do you want from us?” I sneered, craning my neck up to cast my hate-filled gaze upon him.

  “I want you to witness my glory. My sister chose to give you power, but you have failed.” He spread his arms out. “See how all your people worship me, the Lord of the dark world.”

  His creatures jumped up and down, smacking into each other in the tight space, while the humans bowed their heads and adverted their eyes.

  I smiled inside. He was playing right into my hand. I silently thanked Phyra for this idea. “You may have some of these mortals at this present moment, but soon they will all be dead and Sarantoa will become exactly like Mnyama, the place you’ve managed to escape.” I turned to the crowd, to the mortals lingering nervously throughout the hall. “With Vesirus in our world, we will run out of food to eat… of water to drink.” I turned back to him. “This world cannot survive without Celestia’s light. Water will dry up. Animals will die. Plants will cease to exist, and no one will be left to worship you.”

  He shrank back at the mention of his sister, as though her name were poison. “You don’t think I don’t know that this world is changing? I am a god. I have the power to overcome these problems.”

  Though I stood before him in rags, I lifted my chin like the queen I was meant to be. “Prove it.”

  I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth, for Vesirus’s black lips twisted with pleasure. He beckoned to the man called Mintosa, his lackey, who’d brought me my father’s head. “Begin the feeding ceremony. Let these two see how I look after my followers.”

  Mintosa stepped up onto the dais. His black armour clanked as he bowed. “Yes, Dark Lord.” He whistled and two soldiers with glowing eyes wheeled an iron cauldron out, pushing others aside to make a path to the dais. They stopped before Mintosa and lifted the heavy cauldron up beside the throne. Someone passed him a silver chalice. He motioned with his massive arms. “Mortals, line up!”

  Creatures with slimy skin and wings hissed, and beasts with fur and claws growled at the humans who squished through to form a line.

  Vesirus stood, his black cloak falling in wisps off his bony, rotting arms as he raised them above his head. “Drink and satisfy your hunger! Drink and sate your thirst! I offer you immortality! I am your god!” Pieces of cloth and flesh fell from his body and floated through the air with each movement. His King Zaeden suit was deteriorating quickly. What would happen when flesh could no longer hold the dark god? I didn’t want to behold what lay beneath. I feared I would no longer be able to fool myself into believing we could win if I saw the Dark Lord in his true form.

  The first human, an elderly man with yellowy hair, stepped onto the dais and waited.

  Mintosa dipped the chalice into the cauldron, and with a face void of emotion, he placed his large palm on the old man’s shoulder and pressed the rim of the chalice to his lips.

  The yellow-haired man tilted his head back and drank. He swallowed the liquid down audibly. Thick, dark purple liquid leaked out the corners of his mouth and down his pointy chin. He wiped it off himself as Mintosa pulled the chalice away and beckoned for the next human to step forward.

  The process was repeated again and again. Men, women, and children each took a turn drinking their promised immortality. I didn’t blame them. They felt they had no other choice except to become demon-fodder if they refused.

  Vesirus’s eyes shone with a euphoria that made my legs feel weak as Mintosa repeated the ritual with that never-ending boredom, his eyes glowing like two blinding cerulean stars. It reminded me of the way Ramiel acted when we first met with his humanity shut off.

  Ramiel… I hated him for forsaking me. I did need him. We were failing. But Celestia had a tight leash on my guardian. If he didn’t want to disappoint the goddess of light… well, then he could sit up in the heavens with her and watch us burn. I knew his humanity would cause him to regret it for the rest of eternity.

  One more shot. I had one more idea left to save us. And if it didn’t work… I had nothing left to lose.

  With no one left in line, Vesirus turned his sights on us. Phyra clasped my hand and squeezed hard. We would not cower before him. His black lips peeled back from his decaying teeth. “Your turn.” When neither of us moved, he added in his slithering voice, “Don’t you want to feel strong again? Aren’t you tired of feeling hungry?”

  “We don’t want anything from you,” I ground out.

  “You don’t know what you refuse.”

  “We don’t care,” Phyra said the same time as I dared, “Then, tell us.”

  Ignoring her, his gaze danced over me. “I’m offering you demon blood mixed with my own essence. It will allow you to live without your human needs.”

  “And the downside?” I asked.

  “There is none,” he lied.

  I knew he lied because I saw the emptiness in the human’s eyes as they’d lined up. They’d sold their spirits for immortality in a realm of darkness. They were changed. Still, I needed him to believe he’d earned my interest.

  I squeezed Phyra’s hand twice before releasing it, signalling that I had a plan. I stepped onto the dais and willed myself not to tremble at the proximity of the Dark Lord. I could feel his power trying to absorb mine. My spark told me to run. I pushed it down until I could barely feel its warning.

  The fire elemental hesitated. “Where’s Addy?”

  “Addy?” The frail skin stretched across Vesirus’s skull pinched.

  “Adelaide,” she tried again.

  “She’s looking after the one named Star.”

  I willed myself to remain uninterested at the mention of my sister.

  Phyra seemed to accept his answer. She joined me beside Mintosa, who’d kept his glowing, half-lidded gaze on his lord. I noted the axe resting at his side.

  “We accept your offer of immortality,” I told him.

  “You will have to drink the blood every ritual to remain so,” he clarified.

  “So be it.”

  He pushed himself from his throne and clasped his long decaying fingers together. He crept closer as Mintosa scooped the blood up with the chalice. He’d managed to convince us to drink his poison, and he wanted to bask in his victory.

  But when Mintosa straightened to move from the iron cauldron, I pulled at the edges of my power. It shot forward, eager to defend itself against the darkness emanating off Vesirus. I used wind to rip the axe from his side.

  The weapon flew through the air and impaled itself in a demon. It roared and flailed against the blade sticking into its wrinkled neck.

  We had the blink of an eye to act.

  Fire erupted in the space between Phyra and Mintosa. She flung the flames at him, shaping them into burning spears while keeping a wall lit between them.

  I held in my breath and wrapped my fingers around Vesirus’s slick, festering arm. I wasn’t prepared for the death and darkness that clawed itself through my barriers and slithered against my spirit, offering promises of nothingness.

  I pushed back.

  Ice coated the decaying flesh beneath my hand. A cloud of fog escaped from my lips as I let out the air in my chest.

  The darkness
slammed against me, and I had to let go of the Dark Lord.

  He laughed, a hollow, humourless sound. “You think you can defeat me? Trick me? You’ve made a grave mistake, mortal.”

  An arrow of fire arced through the air, headed straight for him.

  He waved his arm, and it fell to the floor in a heap of ashes.

  “Ramiel!” I screamed. I had to try. My plan had gone awry rather quickly.

  He didn’t come.

  Mintosa marched through the fire and throttled Phyra, not even feeling the flames licking his skin.

  The crowd erupted into madness. Demons snapped at each other with sharp-toothed maws. Humans bolted for the doors only to be thrown to the floor by possessed soldiers. I couldn’t hear my own thoughts. Screeching, and yelling, and crying swirled around the hall, filling my head to the point of bursting.

  Until Vesirus’s shout rose above the noise. “Enough!”

  The floor shook with the power behind that voice. The hall had gone silent, but King Zaeden’s body could no longer contain the power of the god controlling it. Flesh fell away as bone began to crack.

  Vesirus grew, and grew, and grew. His limbs lengthened. His body turned into something that resembled a thick, black fog. Only his eyes remained the same; two cold balls of silver.

  His laugh rolled through the air as he looked down at his new form, his natural form.

  He reached out and passed a swirling limb over a middle-aged man trying to hide his son behind him.

  The man shriveled and turned to dust before my eyes. The boy behind him could only stare in shock at the Dark Lord of Mnyama as wetness ran down his leg.

  Sarantoa had grown dark enough. Vesirus no longer needed a body to hold him to this realm.

  He whipped around to Mintosa, who’d loosened his grip on Phyra, stunned by his god’s new appearance. “Take them back to the dungeon. Feed them whatever scraps you can find. I want them to live in suffering until I bore of their existence.”

  “Yes, Dark Lord.” Part of his face was blistered with the burns Phyra’s fire had left. The dark spirit inside of him kept him from feeling any pain.