The Book of Black Redemption

by A L Hart

  I did, sprinting to keep up with him.

  Just like normal, I didn’t think safe existed anymore either.

  Ch. 5

  We entered at the west gate of the compounded estate. The servants in their white and black gowns were all running about the halls in a panic while the faery-knights ordered them to calm down and go where directed.

  Very few of them listened, the majority screeching something along the lines of “she’ll kill us all!” The fear was real, even the knights seeming a mixture of both rage and terror.

  Valen glanced over his shoulder, then bit out, “Keep up!”

  One of the many things I hadn’t been graced with was their inhuman speed, and with bodies scattering around ferociously, magic singing the air with a wild spark, it was difficult to keep pace in the chaos. Valen must have seen this because he fell back, hands grasping my shirt and tugging me down the long corridor with such brute force, it became more a matter of dragging than running.

  “I don’t understand, wouldn’t the safest place be away from the estate?” Instead we were dashing down the immaculate halls with their stainless walls and innumerable doorways leading who knew where.

  “Beneath the castle, there is the vault where the families who escaped the Epilogue were taken. Its protection spell still holds true.”

  My eyes widened. What was here that required such an immense—

  Valen skidded to a halt as one of the walls exploded in front of us, a faery-knight blasting through it, then another, thrown be someone. Something. The chandeliers crashed to the unblemished floor, crystals shattering and sweeping across the surface. An ungodly wave of heat charged through the hole in the wall, stealing both Valen and I’s breath.

  “WHERE IS HE?!” came the next unholy sound.

  That voice. Impossible.

  Valen stepped back as smoke began to cloud the halls, pouring in from the adjacent room where screams and shouts soon took over. “Come, there’s another way. We can’t risk her spotting you.”

  Except . . .

  Just as Valen turned, my shirt still latched, I opened myself to the dark energy flowing in the world beneath the estate, allowed it to saturate and vibrate throughout me. And then I vanished, reappearing steps beside the hole in the wall.

  “Peter, what are you doing?!” Valen roared.

  I ducked into the smoke, stepping over the rubble of the collapsed wall and into what appeared to be the dining hall Valen and I had eaten in before. Or what was left of it. Heavy palls of grey smoke clung to the atmosphere. I held my breath, eyes stinging, lungs choked. The chairs and tables had all been smashed against the walls, lain in ruins of debris now save for the one at the center of the black floors.

  The knights’ voices filtered through the smoke.

  “S-she’s incinerating our magic.”

  “The King ordered we take her alive.”

  “Alive? She will see us all burned before—” The woman’s voice cut into a scream from the direction the sudden, burning ball of raging red and orange fire hurled. It broke through the smoke with startling clarity, creating a visible path to its owner.

  For a moment, I thought I’d been wrong.

  The creature standing atop the table, the source of everyone’s outrage, was a walking death sentence. Sinister black strips of clothing coiled to its form, blades and throwing stars strapped to its pants. A forest of black curls diminished most of the creature’s features, but even from this distance, I made out the anatomically disturbing double row of teeth and wide, unnatural jowls, the utter macabre of its deformed head structure. The creature was small, but when it stepped back, fists raised, the air moved with it, sending a message of lethality to all the recipients in the hall.

  Jera had only shown the monstrous contortion of her face once to me, and because of this, I could recognize even the chopped, demonic distortion of its voice anywhere.

  “I know he’s here,” she made out around all those teeth.

  I tried to call out her name, but choked and hacked as the grey, charry smoke filled my lungs. She couldn’t see me.

  With one toss of her hand, the smoke perished around the table only, but the calamity intensified. Two knights lunged at her, one from behind and one from her side. They had knives of their own. They were shouting some incantation, a spell, but before they could finish, two throwing stars spiraled their way. Both dodged inward—only to meet her true intent. The stars combusted with power enough to knock them both onto the table. She took one of their bodies, threw it at another attacker midlunge, and the faery knight who thought to take her from above, became a stepping stone. She launched herself at him only to grab his throat midair, turn him over and bury her foot in his abdomen as she propelled herself up high to the rafters—

  “Shield!” one of the knights shouted to them all.

  A firestorm erupted in the dining hall. Angry erosions of red, spinning flames charring and demolishing everything it touched. The walls quaked, unable to contain the inferno and again, I tried to open my mouth and shout her name, but the smoke raced to steal my voice.

  She must have tracked me through the bond the second I entered the portal, but now that I was right in front of her, all of the faeries’ magic must have concealed my dark energy. Or she was so far gone her base senses had left with her.

  There was something off about her, something slightly . . . delirious.

  “Bring. Him To. Me.” Fingers running through her hair, nails scraping her skull, her voice was cracking, transitioning between human and monster, the language getting caught in the flickering transformation of her larynx. “Or I will finish what I started!” she bellowed, the stone walls cracking, pieces of rock falling into the smokey disarray.

  I saw the brink of madness in her eyes, how closely she played near it. What was happening to her? Lack of intimacy should have weakened her, set her at Death’s doorstep, yet she’d never been stronger. And if I stood by, it looked like she really would kill them all.

  I did the only thing I could do, and just had to hope I wouldn’t get flayed in the process.

  Eyes closed, I teleported to her and wrapped my arms around her. Instant regret. The heat she emitted tore a scream from me as it reached through my clothes and torched my insides, my skin burning faster than the dark energy could heal me.

  I didn’t let go.

  “Jera,” I grated, trying to drink in her dark energy to weaken her, but whatever she was on, the more I tugged, the more her strength grew. “Jera, it’s Peter. I’m here. You can stop this.”

  A growl, undirected, disoriented. She squirmed in my grip but made no attempt to dislodge.

  “I’m here,” I said again, feeling her spine steadily go lax.

  Time passed, and it wasn’t until I heard the tell-tale crunching of her serrates crushing back into her skull that the tension bled from my shoulders and my head dropped on the crown of hers.

  “Peter . . ?” she asked faintly, voice still guttural as she turned in my grasp to set her eyes upon me. And only when she did, only when our eyes met and I’d swear I was back at the shop, the jukebox playing, no barriers up between us, our future clear as summer skies, did she relax. “You have to leave this place,” she whispered. “They can’t . . . be trusted.”

  And like someone had blown the candle out inside of her, her lids drifted closed, her temperature decreasing rapidly. She was out for the count in the blink of an eye.

  Around me, cheers erupted.

  “The outsider, he did it!”

  “Took the rabid beast out!”

  Just like that, my muscles tensed again, anger weaving between them as the chorus rose to a tumult.

  “No-gooder,” they jeered.

  “The stain has finally been removed!”

  My grip tightened on her when suddenly something warm touched my leg. When I looked down, I saw the last thing I’d been prepared for. The dread-locked brown puli. Danny’s dog, Tathri, an Imperial Beast. Somewhere in all of the fray, he’
d jumped onto the table and now sat, leaned against my leg as he watched—

  Neer and Valen were approaching the table, their eyes rapt on Jera.

  “Just what are you?” Neer asked wondrously.

  But it was Valen who cut to the chase. “Very good, Peter, you’ve caught a very much wanted succubus. Now hand her over and we can proceed with preparing for your long journey.”

  I stepped back, holding her closer to my chest as Tathri yawned and laid down, watching the scene with a decided boredom.

  “You can’t,” I whispered.

  Valen smiled, but it faltered, his features dancing between uncertainty at what he’d heard and inherent charisma. “I’m sorry?”

  “I said you can’t have her,” I repeated softly.

  It was Neer who stepped forward then, as if her gentle tone would persuade me otherwise. “What is this, Peter? That demon is a wanted criminal.”

  “Whatever she did, I’ll pay for it. I’ll get your cup back.”

  “It is a chalice,” Valen said vehemently. “And it is not just any chalice, it is a coveted artifact born into our land and revered for milleniums. She sold it. What more, she injured countless amongst us to obtain it, not just now, but before.”

  “I said I will pay for her crimes, but you can’t have her.”

  Valen looked at me, and it seemed we both understood one thing: their wards were useless against me. I could teleport far out of his reach and continue to be on the run. Or . . . or I could try another route, one that was far crazier than running from faery-giants in an unknown, dangerous world.

  Before Valen could act on the obvious undercurrent of violence he sought, Neer placed a hand on his chest to stay him, but to me she asked, “This is her, isn’t it? Your mate.”

  I hung my head, glancing over Jera’s face, having always been mesmerized by the innocence she radiated in sleep. For the first time, I think I was beginning to understand why immortals used such animalistic, nonsensical words like ‘mate.’ Because in this world and my own—in life in general—there would be instances where someone or something attempted to take away the bond you’d forged with one person. Be it another person, a testing situation, or death itself. And only when you found yourself in a tug-of-war with losing them did you finally get with the program.

  Nodding, I looked to Neer and said with force, “Yes, she’s mine.”

  Mine. It wasn’t possessive, it wasn’t misogynistic. It was a hard truth. It didn’t matter what the woman in my arms did, said, became. At the end of the day, she was every bit mine as I was hers.

  I’d questioned the monster she was, knew that my association with her might make me a mirror of her, but that wasn’t the case. In life, you found that one person you’d help bury a dead body with.

  I found mine.

  And the body I was willing to bury was my own. The past me, what I was and would never be again.

  “Any wrong she’s done is my wrong,” I professed. “Any harm you bring to her, you bring to me.”

  Anger flashed in Valen’s eyes, but before he could say a thing, I snarled, “But I’d advise you against it.”

  “You would threaten the reunion with our daughter?” Valen seethed in a dark whisper.

  “No, but I would offer you something you’d like more than hurting what’s mine. . . .And that’s breaking the giant’s curse.”

  Neer and Valen shared a glance. “That’s—”

  “It’s not impossible. You said Niv was searching for the one person who could undo it. Well, she found him.” At the Sanctuary, the dark elf had wanted Jera and I to play a part when we arrived in the Shatters. She’d wanted us to adopt the persona of those in which we resembled, and while the entire plan we’d forged had fallen apart, there was one thing that could be salvaged from the rubble.

  Deep breath. Slowly, I called them out, and the wings responded with an almost affectionate brush against my insides before gradually their blades sliced through the leather tunic, their dark, iridescent feathers splaying back, the gust of wind scattering the smoke so that I could clearly see the stun on all their faces.

  Collective whispers circulated about the destroyed, simmering dining hall.

  Jera had said it herself, there was only one being who had true wings and they must have known this, even if, in a world without technology similar to Earth’s, they had no idea how he looked.

  Eyes unwavering, I said to Valen and Neer, “I am the Maker and I will lift the giants’ curse.”

  Ch. 6

  In light of this revelation, the royal treatment got somewhat out of hand. Not only did they give Jera and I—and the dog—an entire upper wing of the estate, but the once skeptical, side-eying servants were suddenly falling over their feet to see to my every want. Which was to be left alone, a concept they didn’t seem to readily grasp. They flocked at the door, three of them, their features translucent, magic humming beneath their skin as they all but begged to tuck me in.

  “Guys, tell King Valen this isn’t necessary,” I muttered sheepishly, tired.

  They looked at one another, but it was the faery whose eyes rivaled the blueness of the sea that stepped forward and said earnestly, “It is not King Valen we do this for.” After a deep breath, struggling to collect himself, he said, “We all have family who’ve been affected by the curse, brothers, sisters, our makers, those who refused to run and hide in order to protect us. If there is any chance you can free them, we will give you everything—including our lives.”

  I frowned, the weight of that statement adding to how crucial this all was. For me, I was passing through this unknown land, and while I would do all within my power to keep my word, the truth of the matter was: these faery-giants and their issues, they paled compared to my own personal objectives with my world. Yet, for them, I was their last hope.

  Stepping back, I gave a grim nod. “I get it. And you don’t have to stand by and grovel at my feet. I will do what I can about the curse. That’s a promise.”

  “But why?”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “Why would you help us?”

  His comrade shouldered him. “Uh, what he means is, could you not take your female and leave us to our own problems as might any other in your position?”

  I shrugged. They posed a good question. I knew virtually nothing about them. However, “If you can help someone in need, why wouldn’t you?”

  The question seemed to deeply perplex them, their profiles taking on a mind blown expression. Seriously, was common decency really so mysterious here?

  On that note, they bowed and closed the door for me, promising to come if called. Which I didn’t see happening anytime soon.

  “It’s not the concept they do not understand,” came a voice behind me. “It’s you.”

  I turned and looked to Tathri. The dog lay at the foot of the grand bed, watching me with one eye the color of an amethyst shard, the other a pale pink chalcedony. Heavy cords of fur hung around its stout, small frame.

  “You have questions,” he said. “And plenty of them.”

  “Don’t you think a talking dog warrants a lot of questions?” I asked, not sure I wanted an answer. The more impossibilities I was faced with, the more detached I felt from reality. The less I recognized myself.

  I looked to Jera. Tucked beneath the steady rise and fall of the duvets, she slept soundlessly. I’d stripped her down to her underwear, checking for wounds, but instead, I’d found only scars. Countless of them.

  “You want to know what happened,” Tathri murmured. When I nodded, he gave his head a shake, the dreads sweeping from his eyes. “We followed Jinxy into the portal, but unless you’re in contact with one another, there’s no guarantee you come out at the same place. Jera and I arrived in relatively the same place, pursued Jinxy for some time, but when she sensed your presence, she insisted we turn around and find you. She figured there would be very little chance of you surviving on your own, but looks to me you’ve done just fine.”

  I t
ook a deep breath and shook my head. Too many questions. I didn’t know where to start, how to start.

  “Perhaps you would like to know who I am.”

  “You were Danny’s dog,” I said bitterly. “But like everything else, that was just the tip of the iceberg, huh?”

  “More or less.” He stood and sat on his hunches, watching me intently. “I tried to spare you from what’s to come, but with all of the variables in place, I fear it was futile from the start.”

  “What do you mean?” I crossed my arms and leaned against the door. For once I wished I could have the full picture of it all. Total understanding, because as it turned out, ignorance was just a dark, terrorizing false sense of safety. “I want to know everything, Tathri.”

  “Certainly, but first,” He jumped from the bed, and when his paws touched the rugs, he shifted from dog into the man I remembered at the shop. Thin frame, dark, clear skin, a gown of pure white contrasting against him. There was an unnerving, celestial cut to his visage, coinciding with his mismatched gaze. He rose his hand towards Jera, the room taking on a chill for a moment, before he dropped his hand back to his side.

  “A privacy spell,” he said.

  “The faery-giants are gone,” I assured him.

  “Ah, there are eyes and ears everywhere,” he said, reminding me of something similar Niv had said. Which, come to think of it— “Yes, the faery Nivere was aware of what I was from the start. Always observe your surroundings and keep note of all things. You’ll never know when such knowledge might be of use. Though, it is not the faery-giants’ ears I caution against, but Jera’s.”

  Frowning, I looked back to her sleeping form.

  “You want the truth, the full truth, but you will find there are things better not heard by others.”

  I gave another nod, saying nothing. I did want the truth, undiluted. I needed it, at this point.

  “Very well. As you know, I am an Imperial Beast, as is Jinxy. But what exactly are Imperial Beasts? In the Shatters, we are the human version of myths, fairy tales, believed in only upon seeing. Reason being, as you know, we are capable of opening a portal through the gateways into your world, and the creatures here would, quite literally, kill to get their hands on one such as us. This wasn’t always the case. You see, there was a time when the Shatters was completely void of all lifeforms.”