Astray

by J F Rogers

  Please let me make it through unseen.

  Rather than step through and face whatever might be on the other side of the wall, I poked my head through, slowly. A hallway lay on the other side, lined with the same wall sconces, all lit. I checked both directions. It was abandoned—for the moment.

  I breathed a sigh of relief and stepped through. Drochaid pointed to the right. Out in the open, I felt so exposed. The sconces were lit so this hallway was used. What if something found me? No. I couldn’t worry about such things. Drochaid led the way. God was with me. This was His plan. I must trust Him.

  The higher ceiling allowed me to walk without hunching over. I made it to the end of the hallway and peeked around the corner at another deserted passageway.

  I didn’t move toward it. My heart hammered in my chest. If I continued through this maze of hallways, I’d never find my way back. But then perhaps I wasn’t meant to come back this way. Trust, Fallon. Trust.

  I checked the amulet, held my breath, and dashed down the next hallway. I continued through an endless maze, panic increasing with each turn. I’d never find my way back. I stopped to catch my breath.

  What was I doing here?

  How stupid could I be? I had no plan other than to spare my friends whatever fate was sure to befall me—a fate Ryann already succumbed to. But how? What was I here for if not to give myself over to my uncle? It killed me to keep running around in the enemy’s lair, fearing discovery. I was strangely tempted to yell at the top of my lungs and get my capture over with.

  Marching feet advanced from the opposite end of the hallway, and I abandoned that foolish idea. I raced away down a long corridor, another flight of stairs, yet another hallway, and into a larger room.

  Across from where I’d entered, a window in the wall allowed me to peer into another, much larger room. Long, stone tables and benches filled the lower area. Two rows of balconies, like the one I stood in, lined the four walls. A chandelier filled with hundreds of unlit candles hung from the ceiling’s high center. The light in the dim room came from more wall sconces.

  In my flight, I’d failed to consult Drochaid. I checked now. No glow. Nothing. Drochaid was dull.

  I faced the heavens and mouthed, “Now what?”

  Yet again, the answer came: Give up.

  Though, deep-down, I hoped for something more miraculous, I’d expected as much. I was here, where I intentionally set out to be. How could I be content to stand in the shadows and avoid discovery now? I would never find my way back through the maze. A rock mirage hid the stairway leading to the tower. It would be impossible to find.

  Perhaps my mission was to die. Wasn’t I the one my uncle wanted? He hadn’t begun to torture his sister until learning of me. Perhaps he would trade her for me.

  No, I was already here. Why would he release her now?

  I had to stop driving myself crazy overthinking this. God brought me here. He wanted me here. The rest didn’t matter.

  Resigned to await capture rather than seek it out, I sat on a cold, stone bench attached to the wall furthest from the opening. The stone sucked out whatever heat remained in me, and my mind wandered to territories best left uncharted. In a matter of minutes, images of torturous deaths plagued me while, in reality, I could only die once. Still, I couldn’t help but mull over which was most distressing: the waiting or the dying?

  My body was a bundle of nervous energy. My heart pounded like a drummer in a metal band. My hands clenched in a vain attempt to cease their shaking. My feet shook. Blood drained from my brain and flowed to my extremities in hopes that my body might do something…anything…other than remain seated. But I had to.

  I must not allow my animalistic instincts to take over. I must stay in control. I must simply stay…despite what awaits me.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  ◊◊◊

  I SHIVERED, WAITING FOR the fasgadair to capture me and lead me to my demise. The wait was torture. I attempted to focus on those I’d grown to love, the reason I was here. But my mind kept wandering back to whatever horrendous end surely awaited me. Shuffling feet startled me. My heartbeat quickened. I jumped to my feet. The thudding of my heart and the approaching footsteps grew louder. The electric stench unique to the fasgadair filled my nose. An infinite procession of them in long, hooded black cloaks filed into the auditorium, stuffing the lower level first, then the balconies.

  I held my breath as the first fasgadair to enter my balcony locked eyes with mine. They were like Le’Corenci’s, but a sharper green surrounded the engorged pupil. He partially blocked the other’s path. They filed in around and stopped also. Blobs of brown cloaks and white faces lined my periphery, temporarily immobilized, their dead eyes trained on me, but I couldn’t tear my gaze from the first one. He stood a head above the crowd still pouring in behind him.

  “Who are you?” His icy, clipped words sent shivers down my spine and my arms.

  I released the trapped breath. With shaky hands, I revealed Drochaid.

  The closest two blood guzzlers stared, wide-eyed. A few behind bumped into them. Random exclamations rang out behind them in confusion as to why the procession had stopped advancing.

  The one who spoke before said, “Drochaid.”

  Murmurs erupted among them. Random exclamations including “Drochaid”, “Fallon” and “prophecy” rose above the otherwise unintelligible muttering.

  “Is she—?” asked the blue-eyed monster next to him.

  “Aye.”

  The two who spoke moved toward me, each snatching an arm. Once in their frigid grasp, I was spun around and dragged through the crowd. The freakish onlookers surrounding me quieted, watching as I passed, but one further back in the crowd muttered something about a “missing eye”. Was it talking about me? About the vampire I’d maimed? The bloodsucker responsible for Ryann’s death?

  I searched the grotesque faces, the nearly black eyes for a missing one. Murderous anger welled up within me. Somehow, the one-eyed vamp would pay for what he’d done.

  We broke past the mutants and moved at incredible speed through the empty halls. My anger dissipated, and my gut churned as I fought against their ever-tightening grasps, my eyes darting everywhere. What had I done? Where were they taking me? What would they do to me once we got there?

  God, help me!

  A sense of being where I belonged washed over me. My mind quieted; my body relaxed. I wasn’t alone. What was the worst they could do to me? Kill me? Then I’d be in paradise with my creator. Wasn’t that actually the best-case scenario?

  But how would I die? How badly would it hurt?

  I shook my head and focused on my God, those I loved, even as I was pulled roughly by creatures who wanted me dead.

  “What shall we do with her, my lord?” the short one asked. His spine bent in submission to the other, who stood erect.

  “We shall take her to the slave chamber and advise Aodan. She shall not be harmed until Aodan’s wishes are made clear.”

  “I understand, my lord.”

  I half wished they’d put an end to my apprehension.

  They have my body, God. But You have my soul. I’m in Your hands. I trust You.

  My captors continued to yank me down dark, winding halls and stairways, much like those I’d already traversed, but we continued downward when we reached stairways. After the twentieth or so descent my ears popped. We came to a guard blocking a door and stopped. The guard rose, threw open the lock with a clang, and stepped aside. They shoved me in and slammed the door behind me. The lock clicked as it slid back into place.

  A pungent stench of decay and human waste hit me. I struggled to breathe. Tears sprang to my burning eyes. Gagging, I stared into the gloom—many others shared my cell.

  Skeletal beings sat in the shadows around the barren stone room, huddled together on heaps of hay, staring at me. None of them made a move.

  The raspy sound of coughs and labored breathing joined my poundin
g heart. I strained my eyes to determine who they were, but didn’t dare move closer. Were they fasgadair, hungry for blood? Their pale faces and the whites of their eyes reflected the limited light.

  I took a deep breath. Against the far wall lay pools of what could only be excrement and urine. Ah, now I understood why everyone huddled together. Even as my brain made the connection, I spun toward the door and emptied the meager contents of my stomach.

  Once I’d recovered, a boy with matted, brown hair and sunken cheeks pulled himself off his moldy bed with great effort and approached me. His arm outstretched in my direction, moving at a zombie pace.

  I inhaled through my mouth to avoid the stench and backed against the locked door.

  “Is that…?” The boy spoke aloud, but not to me. His eyes were not on mine but on my neck. He reached to grab me.

  He couldn’t be a vampire. His eyes were human. Dirty and emaciated, but human. Or did zombies exist in this realm too? I held my breath as he approached, unsure what he wanted or how to respond.

  He didn’t grab me but the amulet. “It is.” Hopefulness infused his raspy voice.

  I slumped against the door, releasing the breath I’d been holding.

  The boy called to the others. “She wears Drochaid.” His hoarse voice sounded as though it must be painful to speak.

  Several gasps emerged. One woman stood. Her movements slow and careful, she made her way toward me. Her matted blonde hair formed dreadlocks in places. Beyond the grime on her face, her eyes resembled my grandmother’s and mine and, despite the lack of energy, shone with excitement and fear. “Fallon?”

  “Yes?” My voice was barely audible. Could it be?

  “I am called Cataleen. Do you know who I am?”

  I nodded. “My mother.”

  She opened her arms. I closed the distance between us and hugged her. Her body trembled. Two drips landed on my shoulder.

  I had so longed for this moment, envisioning it in so many scenarios, none under circumstances such as this. Now that it had arrived, it seemed surreal. I’d hoped her presence would evoke repressed memories. It didn’t. We were strangers connected by lineage and nothing more. I awkwardly held a woman who, I assumed, cried for the baby she’d lost. Still, being united with her thrilled me, though it saddened me we would not have the opportunity to get to know one another. Not now anyway. Perhaps later…in heaven.

  I backed out of her embrace to look in her eyes. “I must get you out of here.”

  “No. I must get you out of here. How did you wind up in here? You are meant to save us.”

  “I know.” I dropped my head. What had I done? Why had I abandoned my protectors to come here on my own? And for what? To get myself captured and fail all of us? As soon as the doubt and despair crept over me, they dissipated, replaced by the certainty that had brought me here.

  I couldn’t tell her I’d come here to die. “It doesn’t make sense, but I believe this is where I need to be right now. Have faith.” My own words shocked me, and yet to the core of my being I knew they were true. A renewed confidence and strength beyond my own capacity came over me.

  My mother grasped my arm. Horror froze on her face. “He knows you’re here. He’s coming for you.”

  The boy who’d been standing near me returned to his group. They huddled tighter together as if their closeness would make their individual bodies an indistinguishable wall.

  Cataleen’s eyes changed. Arrogant glee replaced the joy and fear. She held herself straighter and circled me, walking with a confident swagger. She laughed. “Aye, he knows you’re here. What kept you, niece?”

  I backed against the wall, my stomach in my throat, not breathing. So this is what the full-blown mind-link looked like? Aodan took her over completely? Thank God it hadn’t come to that for me. Yet.

  My uncle in my mother’s body approached me. The sickening delight in my mother’s eyes made me want to dry heave since I’d already lost my last meal. He reached out her hand toward my face. Gentle fingers pushed back stray strands of hair. The spot where he touched my forehead burned. I desperately wished to brush the icky feeling he’d left away.

  Cataleen’s hand hovered before my face. Her eyes peered into mine. But it wasn’t her staring into my soul, it was Aodan—studying me as if he could know everything about me with just a look.

  He stepped back. His lips, Cataleen’s lips, twitched in the corners and grew wide like the Grinch when he got a grinchy idea. Everything within me shuddered in response. What sick thoughts were transpiring in his mind?

  Footsteps approached and the latch rattled, distracting. He glanced at the door then returned his attention to me. “My guards are right on time. I leave you now, for but a moment. I look forward to meeting you in the flesh…my flesh.” He grinned wickedly.

  Cataleen’s body slumped. She picked her head back up. Fear filled her eyes. “He was here.”

  The door flew open.

  I nodded. “That’s why I’m here. It will be okay.”

  A couple of fasgadair clamped their icy hands on my arms. They didn’t appear to be the same ones who’d dumped me here. At least, one of them wasn’t. They were closer to the same height. But who could tell with those cloaks and those similar, undead eyes?

  As they dragged me out the door, one said, “Our master wishes to see you.”

  I summoned up the most confident face I could and gazed at my mother to give her hope before the door closed between us.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  ◊◊◊

  YET AGAIN THEY PULLED me through a maze of halls and staircases. This time we headed higher up. Again, my ears popped with the change in altitude. Even if I miraculously managed to escape these bloodsuckers, how would I ever get out of here?

  We slowed our pace outside massive double doors. Guards opened them as we approached. We entered a gaudy room bedecked in gold and red velvet: the room from one of my visions. The giant tapestry of a bloody war hung on the far wall. A vampire, dressed in a black shirt and pants resembling something from my realm rather than the cloaks of the clones, lounged on a fainting couch. My captors threw me at his feet.

  “As you requested, my lord.”

  Without rising, the fasgadair I assumed to be Aodan waved his hand. The two underlings bowed and retreated, closing the doors behind them.

  Aodan went from completely relaxed to sitting upright, leaning forward eagerly. My eyes hadn’t even perceived the motion. He was just in one position, then the other.

  That grin. That evil, grinchy grin spread across his face. “Please. Have a seat.” He motioned me to a similar chair opposite him.

  I did so while keeping a wary eye on him.

  Despite his pasty skin, when he closed his eyes, he was handsome with sandy blond hair. A bit of my grandmother’s features—full lips and high cheekbones, flattered his masculine face. Not an imperfection, wrinkle, or other sign of aging existed. Flawless…aside from that pesky demon problem.

  When he opened his eyes, a chill ran through my soul. Like Le’Corenci and all the other fasgadair, his enlarged pupils and irises took over the whole eye, leaving no room for whites. But Aodan’s irises were bright purple, as if they’d been like mine before fasgadair blood infected his veins. He chuckled as his gaze roamed my body.

  My cheeks warmed. I fought to keep my clenched fists by my side.

  “Well, it appears we have captured the infamous Fallon at last.” His eyes traveled to my feet and back to my face again. “You’re not what I expected. You’re just a little girl—puny.” He chuckled and aimed his gaze at the heavens. “Is this who the Almighty brought forth to save the gachen?” His laughter grew louder, shaking his entire body.

  I said nothing. I was no one to be feared, but the One who sent me was a power none of us could fathom. I didn’t bother saying so. I glanced at him with feigned disinterest.

  “You surprise me.” He stood and walked around my seat as if he were on a Sunday st
roll, arms clasped behind his back, gazing at grotesque battle paintings in golden frames on the walls.

  Though I was interested in this uncle of mine and curious as to how I surprised him, I didn’t dare give him the satisfaction. I remained silent.

  “You came all this way to save people you don’t even know.” He motioned toward me as he appeared on the other side of the couch. “And look at you…The fate of the gachen rests with you? You’re weak and small. You can’t stand against me.”

  No but my God can. Even as the words coursed through me, I refused to take his bait and speak, confident my silence weakened him somehow.

  “Have you nothing to say?” He sat down and crossed his legs.

  I stared in his direction, but through him, as though he didn’t exist.

  “You’re not in the least bit curious about your uncle?” He laughed again. This time, a nervous quality infused it. He waited, his creepy eyes on me. “But we had such a wonderful time getting to know each other in your dreams.”

  He sighed. “I’ll admit. I’m impressed you somehow kept me from breaking through the mind-link. You confounded my soldiers. Even Morrigan with all her magic. She expected you in Diabalta. However did you manage to fool her?” He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “She will not be pleased. We have guards posted from there to Notirr. Where in Ariboslia did you go? How you managed to avoid them is of the utmost interest to me. And how did you know about this place?”

  His confusion comforted me. If Le’Corenci had led me astray, we would not be having this conversation. Rather, I wouldn’t be listening to this monologue. I shifted my gaze to the stone wall behind him, focusing on its spider web-like cracks. He didn’t appear accustomed to being treated in this manner. He clenched his jaw, and a vein resembling the Mississippi river pulsed in his forehead. I fought the urge to smile.