Dark Illusion

by Feehan, Christine

  “I have a small knife. I carry it on me just in case. It’s a ceremonial knife. I’ve cleansed and blessed it. No one has ever touched it but me.”

  He almost asked her why she carried it with her, but something in her voice warned him not to.

  “I’ll bring the book up and immediately, before either of the two mages realize what we’re doing, I’ll cut myself and you cut yourself. I can’t do it to you, so you’re going to have to. I’ll say the ritual release words to release the souls from the book. Once they are gone, we should be able to drive the book from this world with our blood.”

  “How long will it take, Julija?”

  Impatience crossed her face, and he realized she was holding it together by a thread. He was used to switching to his hunting mode. He pushed all emotion aside and just got the job done. She felt everything, including terror, knowing her two worst enemies were on standby to kill them.

  “You have to be prepared for me to be wrong, Isai. The book can’t fall into their hands. That has to be the first priority. If we don’t destroy it, you take possession of it.”

  She was of the high mage’s bloodline. The power of the book could be overwhelming to her. “You have the better chance of getting it out of here safely. I can slow them down. Don’t shake your head, Isai, I can do that far better than you. I can counter their every spell.”

  “You cannot just counter, Julija. You are going to have to get aggressive if we are going to get out of here alive.”

  He could fight them off and give her time to get away, but if she had to defend the book, she was going to have to come into her own and recognize that she was every bit as powerful as either of their enemies. Anatolie and Barnabas were far more experienced, but her blood was both Carpathian and mage, and she had the best of both species. He was ancient and had no doubt that he would kill one or both of them, but it would take time and they would throw everything they had at him. If they were very, very lucky, his brethren would come.

  “I understand,” she said. She tilted her head and looked him in the eye. “I can do this, Isai. I’m with you all the way. I knew it would come down to this someday. I have always been afraid Barnabas would convince Anatolie to let him have me again. If that happened, I promised myself I would never make that descent into hell again.”

  He cupped her face in his hands. “You do know that I can find you anywhere. Anywhere. I would follow you straight into hell if that was where you were. I’d come for you, Julija, never doubt that.”

  He kissed her with exquisite tenderness. “My beloved. My little mage. I love you more than I can ever express.”

  “I love you the same way.”

  She had stars in her eyes. They were surrounded by her worst enemies and she looked at him as if he was everything. He brushed her lips again. “Are you ready?”

  She nodded. “Let’s do this.”

  Facing the lake, Julija took a deep, cleansing breath and closed her eyes to remove one of her senses, better to feel what she needed. The moment she did, Isai kicked the wind up a notch and the clouds above them swirled and groaned with the heavy burden of so much snow. Flakes fell in little flurries, were caught in the wind and carried out over the water.

  She lifted her hands toward the lake. Isai knew the two high mages were expecting the book to be buried in the depths of the water, just as they had been. Both men would be concentrating their energies on the lake. He increased the snowfall so that their world turned white as the clouds, burgeoning with snow, finally burst open. He made certain the snow felt entirely natural. It was already there, he just added to the intensity of it.

  Blood calls to blood, to that which is unseen.

  Syphoning away darkness, so clarity is seen.

  I call to the power of the earth below.

  Open your arms that I may see what is hidden beneath and now know.

  Isai wrapped Julija in his arms, pulling her back from the earth where it fell in on itself. He hoped that they could only be seen as shadowy figures walking closer to the lake.

  The moment the deep grave was open, something stirred at the very bottom of the hole. It appeared indistinct, transparent, shimmering one moment black and the next gray, insubstantial in the ever-moving smoke. The thing tilted its head and looked up at them. The pits that had been eyes took on a fiery glow.

  Isai’s breath caught in his lungs. “Shadow warrior,” he identified softly. Now he knew why his brother’s burden had been so intolerable, so heavy. He hadn’t just buried the book and chanced that no one would come upon it. He had left himself behind as a guardian. It was a terrible—and wonderful—sacrifice.

  “Stop admiring him.” Already the apparition was standing upright, looking up at them, his body beginning to take form. She patted her thigh hard to clear her mind. “Vapor. Particles. Dust, dirt, whatever is available. Small molecules.” She murmured aloud what the shadow warrior was made of. She swallowed hard.

  “Hear me now, Iulian. You deserve to rest in peace after all your years of service. Your blood-kin Isai will take over to allow you to go to your lifemate. I am Julija, his lifemate, and I bear the mark of the high mage and the Dragonseeker.”

  I call on the wind to take this warrior home.

  I call on earth and fire to carry him to rest.

  I call to the powers of air, circle and clear that which has been shadow so long.

  I call to the powers of earth, open and provide a resting place for this warrior.

  I call to the powers of fire, bring back his heart so he may find his true love.

  I call to the powers of water, may this warrior find peace and balance within you.

  Air, Earth, Fire, Water, hear me.

  Surround this warrior, take him home, give him rest.

  The shadow warrior moved between insubstantial gray smoke and what appeared to be a living, breathing Carpathian. His eyes went from a fiery glow to blazing blue, meeting Isai’s. Something passed between the brothers and then those eyes went to empty sockets. The wind picked up and blew him apart so that great, long strands of smoke twined with the snow and lay on the ground around them.

  Julija staggered and Isai immediately caught her, his gaze on the snow falling in the meadow to their left. The meadow was flat, and already the blades of grass and small bushes were covered with snow. The skies were heavy with flakes, but he could see movement in the distance, completely across the meadow. It was slow, but it was coming steadily toward them.

  “Hurry, sívamet,” he whispered into her ear. “I know you are getting tired, but you must keep going. The moment the book is gone, we can leave this place.” He reached for the shadow cats. Can you see what is coming at us?

  It was always best to keep the images as easy as possible for the creatures, although, he had to admit, they were getting very adept at reading his words and images. Blue especially was adapting fast.

  Below them was the book. It sat looking very innocent, deep in the hole. Julija closed her eyes and leaned into Isai for strength. “The pull is tremendous. The call of the book on me.” She showed him her arm where the snake coiled around the scorpion hissing, mouth wide and tongue out seeking the powerful energy. The scorpion rattled its claws and the stinger was up and ready.

  “They’re coming for us,” Isai warned, hating to hurry her, not when she needed to gather strength to fight the pull of her mage bloodline.

  She nodded. “Be ready. We’ll have to do this very fast. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to fight the need to open it. It’s incredibly powerful.”

  Isai could see tiny blood droplets beading on her forehead. Already her Carpathian blood was at war with her mage blood. “Do it, beloved. Rid the world of that thing.”

  He slipped one arm around her waist, pulling her into him so she had a place to rest, so she knew she wasn’t alone in this. All the while his gaze was fixed on the blizzard of swirling white flakes. He added to the whiteout, diminishing his own view, but slowing their enemy more.

 
He constructed warriors of old, an army of them, and sent them into the night to battle with the entities coming at them. Occasionally, from the outside edges of the oncoming army, bloodcurdling cries could be heard.

  He knew the two mages had thrown in together. He could feel both of them in the storm. Their touches were quite different. Anatolie was sophisticated, almost light, constructing a multitude of monsters to come at them. He hadn’t differentiated between Isai and Julija. Every one of those creatures shuffling toward them were ordered to kill. He knew because he could feel the powerful need radiating off of them.

  Barnabas was completely different. The beasts coming at them held great purpose and were mythical demons from hell. Hellhounds. Why they weren’t running toward them, Isai didn’t understand. Hellhounds were fast and difficult to kill. He would need arrows and hyssop oil, and a lot of luck. Barnabas was precise, methodical and focused. He had a purpose for his hellhounds and they were totally under his power. Hellhounds, once unleashed, were ferocious, demonic creatures, difficult to control. Set on a target, they rarely were capable of being pulled back. These hellhounds showed almost frightening restraint.

  Julija took a deep breath, drawing his attention. He glanced down at her. She lifted her hands and began to invoke protections.

  Fire surround us with a tower of flames,

  Holding back that which would do harm or maim.

  Water wash clean of all dark magic cast.

  Air bring forth your breath with a mighty blast,

  Holding back powers from below and the past.

  Earth protect us from that which is unseen,

  Lying within your realm yet to be redeemed.

  “Are you ready, Isai? I’ve made certain we’re as protected as possible, but if something goes wrong and I can’t resist its power, you have to take control. Take the book. Leave me if you have to. Get away and hide it.”

  “You are going to destroy it,” he assured. Absolute conviction was in his voice because he believed it. Julija was far stronger than she gave herself credit for.

  “We,” she corrected. She closed her eyes for a moment and then once again lifted her hands, weaving a complicated pattern.

  That which is bound, deep within the earth,

  I place forth my hand to you.

  I now release your bonds,

  Arise and come to me.

  At once the book began to float upward toward them. As it did, the snake and scorpion on her arm shook in excitement. “I don’t want to touch it, Isai,” she cautioned. “You were just thinking of hyssop oil. Coat your hands in it so they don’t touch the book. I can hear the wailing of the dead. They might try to retaliate against anyone attempting to wield the book.”

  He glanced at her sharply. He couldn’t hear the cries of those murdered, but she was so sensitive. He could see the little dots of blood on her forehead beginning to trickle down her face. He did as she said, and the moment the book cleared the deep hole and rose into the air, there was a sudden silence. It was brief—too brief. The creatures in the snow coming at them went wild, picking up their pace to run at them.

  The air filled with power, clashes of it, whiplike attacks coming from two different directions seeking the book. The book tried to go toward the stream of energy coming from the east. Isai recognized that malevolence as Barnabas. Before the book could be taken, he grabbed it, remembering at the last moment to coat his hands in oil.

  Julija didn’t hesitate. Her hands went into the air and she once again wove a complicated pattern. The moment she did, the snake hissed its displeasure and sank its teeth into her arm repeatedly. Strike after strike. Bite after bite. The scorpion plunged its stinger viciously into her arm.

  Isai wanted to knock the snake and scorpion from her arm, but it was a birthmark, and there was no way to stop its reaction when it knew what she planned.

  Julija pulled out the little ceremonial knife. Curling her fingers around the hilt, she cut into her wrist and then she offered the knife to him and he did the same. They immediately allowed the blood to splatter across the book, the two streams mingling together. Julija began to invoke the spell.

  Those whose lives were ended by blood, hear my voice.

  Be at peace. Return to your resting places.

  There are no more fights to fight.

  No more fears to face.

  Be at peace with yourself.

  Now lie at rest.

  Now, Isai could hear the wailing of the dead—one from each species sealing the book closed against any unworthy intruders. Only someone of the high mage’s line could open the book and only with the blood sacrifices of each of the species.

  The head of a large wolf rushed off the cover, teeth filling its jaws, eyes that of a man. He looked around him and then, as if satisfied, the Lycan was gone in the same way the shadow warrior had dissolved. Next was a human. A man of good physical strength, his intelligence showing in his eyes. He nodded to Isai and bowed toward Julija before the shadows tore him apart.

  The moment the mage appeared, Isai felt the difference. This being was filled with rage and immediately flew at Julija. He was an insubstantial mass of roiling shadows, spinning and churning, gathering strength. He fastened his hands on her neck and sank his teeth into her to anchor himself.

  Isai couldn’t let go of the book. Swearing, he tried with one hand to remove the apparition, but his hand just went through it.

  Julija surprised him. There was no panicking. “I’ve got this.” Clearly, she had been expecting something like it, although he didn’t see how. Mage magic was always complicated because of the twists and turns.

  That which is born of darkness, anger and hate,

  May the fires of darkness forever seek to purge you.

  May your soul seek rest among the lost.

  May you forever be judged for the sins you have committed.

  I send you back from whence you have come.

  May you never walk this plane again.

  With a shriek, the mage was torn apart by the wind, spinning away from them until he was nothing but small threads of gray. Those, too, disappeared.

  “He volunteered to guard the book. Xavier gave him permission to study all the spells so when Xavier once more brought him from hell, he would be a powerful mage.”

  “Xavier was never going to do that, was he?” Isai asked.

  “Of course not, and he should have known.” She turned her attention to the jaguar emerging. He was roped with muscle and had thick dark hair. Faint dark rosettes appeared in his skin. He regarded them suspiciously. She waved her hand to dismiss him; the jaguar hesitated and then the shadows pulled him apart.

  Isai’s attention was on the approaching army of creatures coming toward them. They were so close he could feel the heat from the mass. The ground trembled, not liking the unnatural beasts treading over the miles of meadow. He sent a wave through the earth, so that the floor rippled violently, sending anyone in its path to the ground. A roar of rage went up, and then Isai’s army of shadow soldiers were clashing with the horrific beasts. It would delay them, but not stop them.

  The last guardian of the book was clearly Carpathian. Isai winced inwardly when he saw a boyhood friend. This was a powerful Carpathian and yet he’d been trapped by the mage. That gave Isai warning that he couldn’t get arrogant or smug. He thought mages tricksters, using illusion to get their way. Seeing an ancient warrior trapped on the cover of a book was not only shocking but alerted him to the real danger they were facing—two high mages—both from the most powerful bloodline the mages had.

  The Carpathian warrior looked Isai over for what seemed forever, those eyes piercing through him, judging him. Then he turned his attention to Julija. She bore his scrutiny, not bowing her head under that intense inspection. Lastly, he looked at the mark on her arm, the vicious stinging and biting taking place. Julija’s arm had blood trickling down it and droplets hitting the open grave.

  Without warning the warrior leaned down and tasted the b
lood leaking from her arm. He pulled his head back before the scorpion and snake could attack him. Once more his gaze shifted, so that he was looking out into the night, into the blinding snow. He looked at Isai. I would help if you have need.

  Julija shook her head. We cannot accept his offer. That would be selfish. He needs and deserves rest.

  They needed and deserved help, but Isai wasn’t going to tell her that. He looked the warrior in the eye. “Ainaakfél. Old friend”—Isai’s voice was filled with admiration and respect—“you fought a long battle and held on to your honor against all odds. You deserve to rest. Joηesz arwa-arvoval. Return with honor.”

  The Carpathian warrior inclined his head and then was gone. The moment the last of his shadow had been swallowed up by the night, Julija caught Isai’s wrist and mingled the stream of his blood with her own once more, sending it over the entire top of the book, using a grid pattern to make certain she dripped their blood from corner to corner.

  The scorpion on her arm went into a frenzy, plunging its stinger into her viciously. The snake tried to slide down her arm in an effort to get to her heart, but it was caught by the coils wrapped around the belly of the scorpion and couldn’t get loose. It had to be content with feverishly striking at her with its fangs.

  In the midst of the hordes coming at them, shrieks of protest, wild wails of rage rose into the air, the sound so ugly it hurt their ears.

  Julija ignored all of it. She lifted her hands and once again sketched patterns in the air. She invoked the spell of protection for the two of them, asking for aid to accomplish this difficult task.

  I call to light, surround us.

  Bring forth your shield, encircle us with your light.

  Keeping us safe from that which would do harm.