Dark Illusion

by Feehan, Christine

  Deliberately, she brought her wrist to her mouth, allowed her teeth to lengthen and tore a larger hole in her own flesh. Blood poured over the spine, so much that for a moment it scared her, but the terror of Barnabas coming anywhere near her again overcame the sight of her blood consuming the spine of the book. Now, there was only the wood to get off her and the book would be done with.

  I can’t become vapor and he’s coming. He’s coming, Isai.

  She needed him. Isai. Her savior. Her talisman. She needed him to get to her before Barnabas. She knew there was utter panic in her voice, that chaos reigned in her mind, and that her body was trying to shut down on her. Her legs and arms tingled, pins and needles striking throughout. Her lungs refused to work, desperate for air. Her head spun. She felt so faint she knew she would crash to the ground if she didn’t sit, but it was as if she’d forgotten how to move.

  He’s coming now. Can you feel him? She didn’t bother to try to keep the sob from her voice.

  I am on my way to you, little mage. Isai’s voice was as always—calm, matter-of-fact. Peaceful even, as if he wasn’t fighting a terrible, impossible battle with the hounds from hell, or that one of the most dangerous mages wasn’t striding across the battlefield toward them right that moment.

  You are as powerful as he is. Remember that. He has experience, but you are both high mage and Carpathian. The moment you are able, dissolve into vapor. He can do a lot of things, but that he cannot do. He will not be able to find you within the storm. Close off every wound. That is important. One drop of blood can give you away.

  She took a deep steadying breath. Of course. She was letting herself panic when she’d known this moment would come. Barnabas. It was just that no one else saw him as she did. They thought she was terrified of him because of the things he’d done to her. She knew better. There were many moments when she’d caught glimpses past the cruel mage into something deeper, something far more sinister than even she could conceive. That was what shook her. He might have long surpassed his masters in his ability to weave and bind with magic.

  She sank slowly into the bloodstained snow. The scorpion and snake were doing their best to remove the last of the roots that had driven through her hand and twined around her wrist. She would help them in a moment, but she was weak from loss of blood and that ever-present fear she couldn’t quite let go of. Isai had to come. He would. He said he would. He just had to get there before the dark mage did.

  Isai fell back, making his retreat as unnoticeable as possible. He realized when he made any move to go back toward Julija, the hellhounds adjusted their positions in order to cut him off. This was no battle where the massive creatures were just flung at him or put in place to kill everything in their path. They didn’t go around him to get to Julija. These demonic creatures from hell were being directed with purpose.

  There was a general on the battlefield and he was ensuring his soldiers did exactly as he wanted. Each strategic move was designed to keep him separated from Julija. As he turned to face the threat coming in from the south, a stampeding group of four, an extremely aggressive attack came from directly in front of him. The beast was on him just as he let loose three arrows at the ones coming in from the south. He felt the hot bite of the demon’s breath as the jaws just missed his leg and then he was on the ground, the last place any warrior wanted to be, not when hellhounds continued to multiply no matter how many he managed to kill.

  He slashed open the hellhound’s belly, rolling to keep the burning intestines from reaching him. As he rolled he leapt into the air, shooting off half a dozen arrows. All but one hit their mark, penetrating eyes. He pushed forward, using his sword to sever heads as he went. One arrow hit just to the right of the eye of the lead hound coming in from the south and bounced off. The second penetrated deeply so the animal skidded, shook its head and stumbled into the hound next to it, forcing it to veer off course.

  Instantly, Isai could see the black, turbulent cloud churning behind the five hellhounds. The beasts were massive. Venom dripped in long strings of saliva from their mouths. Their eyes glowed fiery red, like hot coals pressed deep into their skulls. Nostrils flared as they breathed, smoke coming from noses. The one with the arrow in its eye shook its head over and over, trying to dislodge it. The eye dripped with blood, adding to the hideous effect.

  Isai had intended to shift into vapor and get ahead of the hellhounds, making his way back to Julija. But now he was aware these hellhounds weren’t after Julija; they were programmed to kill him. Somewhere hidden in that black cloud was the mage. Along with fighting for his life with the hellhounds, he knew the worst was coming. He was certain of it. Isai took his time with his shot, ignoring the pawing, snorting and galloping of the rest of the herd of hellhounds coming at him.

  He dropped back another two feet and then, as the hellhounds went into a frenzy, determined to stop him, to cut him off from Julija, they opened ranks just enough for him to see the churning black cloud. He let the arrow fly.

  The hellhounds were on top of him so he did the only thing left open to him, he leapt into the air, over their backs, letting four arrows fly before he landed on the ground, just a few feet from the cloud. The hellhounds snarled and snapped at him and at one another. They had to change direction in order to keep him in their field of vision. Swinging around wasn’t easy for them. They were massive beasts and running full out.

  Isai scored a hit in the direct center and the roiling, agitated murky veil lifted, enabling him to see the mage lying in wait for him to make a mistake. Shockingly, it was Anatolie who lifted his hands instantly, not Barnabas. Barnabas still commanded the hellhounds, his hand was everywhere, but Anatolie was the mage he faced. One hand held a staff with an amber ball at the top of it. He pointed that globe at Isai. Lightning slashed over the backs of the hellhounds, singeing their fur, so blackened smoke rose while the beasts howled, the sound grating on ears, sending nerves into a jangle so it was difficult to move quickly.

  Whips of lightning struck the ground all around Isai, snapping and crackling, sizzling with electric life. The animals, programmed to continue forward after Isai, were confused, running into one another, slashing with razor-sharp teeth, opening the motley fur so blood ran like rivers into the pristine snow.

  Isai concentrated on the lightning. The weather was his forte. He’d been managing lightning since he was no more than a child. He timed the strikes. Each one was getting closer and more severe. Anatolie clearly had wielded the lightning on more than one occasion, but Isai had complete confidence in his abilities. He waited until a whip slammed into the ground just feet from him and then he called his own whip down and struck hard right at Anatolie, slamming the full force of the electrical storm down on him.

  Anatolie moved at the last possible moment, as if he had been waiting for the retaliation. The staff had gone up and swung toward Isai, redirecting the streaks and whips right back at the Carpathian. Each time Isai tried to get into the air, Anatolie took the route from him. Each time he stepped back in order to close the distance between him and Julija, Anatolie slashed at him with the lightning strikes.

  It was difficult to see in the whiteout of the blizzard. The sizzling and crackling added to the chaotic scene. The light flashed, ultrabright, illuminating the snow, but causing a terrible glare. Anatolie appeared to be in the middle of that spinning, churning web of smoke and deceit.

  Then he was hovering above the hellhounds, and they snapped at him, spinning in circles trying to see him. Next, he was a few feet away. Isai could see him easily, his dark eyes spitting hatred at him, that staff directing the lightning.

  Isai directed his own electrical whips straight at Anatolie. The lightning forked in the air and wrapped around the columns Anatolie had sent at him. A shower of sparks rained down on all of them, hellhounds, Carpathian and mage alike.

  Where are you?

  Julija sounded scared. Forlorn. Terrified he had abandoned her. Isai turned toward her, deciding to get to her and fi
ght from that position. Just as he chose to streak away, a loop caught his ankle and yanked him down. At once the hellhounds went into a frenzy as their quarry went from the air to the ground in seconds.

  Desperately Julija fought to get the root off her hand and arm so she could shift. The ground moved under her. Rising. Falling. As if it was breathing. Her own breath caught in her throat. She could see the battle of lightning taking place a distance from her and knew something had prevented Isai from getting to her. Tears burned behind her eyes and her throat closed. She felt helpless. Without hope.

  It is a snare. You know better, Julija. Take one step at a time. Close the wounds and rid yourself of the last of the book. I will join you as soon as I am able to do so.

  There it was again—that complete calm. She had touched Isai’s mind on several occasions and never once had he closed it to her. She could see his every intention was to get to her. Anatolie had confronted him. He is a master of illusion, Isai.

  She needed to hold up her end. Isai was battling so many things. Hell-hounds were demonic. They had been programmed so they would obey Barnabas’s dictates, but his orders slowed them down and confused them. They were demons and wanted to feast on the flesh of the Carpathian, not be dictated to and forced to obey.

  She took a deep breath and forced air through her closed lungs. Barnabas had more than once sent ahead such a spell, one to make her feel helpless, small and as if she couldn’t do anything but obey his every command.

  That which is cloaked in shadow,

  Bring clearness to my sight.

  Taking on none of the illusion,

  I surround myself with light.

  Send back that which came along this path,

  Tracking from whence it came.

  Let the helplessness and shadow

  No longer in my heart and mind remain.

  Julija hurriedly began closing the numerous wounds on her body. She worked fast, but was meticulous, all the while trying various ways to rid herself of that last, stubborn root. As it fell away from her arm, she used several healing techniques to ensure not one bit of wood was left. She dripped blood on the scattered splinters so that they withered into black, crispy curls of ash there in the snow.

  The scorpion and snake rushed back up her arm, clearly alarmed as she got shakily to her feet. She still felt faint and dizzy from lack of blood. When she tried to dissolve into mist, nothing happened. Nothing. She was left there, standing out in the open, once again caught by the foulest and most dangerous of all the mages she knew.

  Barnabas stepped out of the blizzard of white. He looked—invincible. Cruelly handsome. He wore a suit, unlike Anatolie, who enjoyed wrapping himself in robes. He smiled at her, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.

  “Julija. You look worn. Exhausted. I don’t think your Carpathian lover is taking such good care of you. You need your master.” He sounded benevolent. “I have never been one to forgive grave sins such as yours, my pet, but I will admit I have missed our delicious games.”

  Her entire body shuddered. Intellectually, she knew his voice was part of his spell. He enthralled the listener, hypnotized and mesmerized, much like a cobra. That’s how she thought of him now. A cobra, ready to strike when she exposed any weakness.

  It is true that you are worn and exhausted, my love, Isai said softly, brushing love into the walls of her mind. You have lost far too much blood. Those things are very true, but you belong to no one but who you choose to give yourself freely to, Julija. You are strong. You destroyed the high mage’s book when no one else could do so. Every wound you’ve suffered, every scar you’ve gotten, is a badge of courage and shows me the strength of the woman you are.

  Isai’s voice was filled with admiration and respect, everything Barnabas had never given her. Her warrior championed her in all things. Even now, he was fighting against impossible odds to get to her.

  Julija lifted her chin and looked Barnabas right in the eye, something he’d trained her never to do. “I have no master. I’m no one’s pet. And your games are anything but delicious, Barnabas. I find them cruel and vile.”

  He smiled at her, his white teeth gleaming. There was no hint of amusement in his eyes. “I can see our lessons will have to begin all over again right from the very start.”

  He glanced at the ground around her feet. It was bare of snow and still smoking in places. It was also stained red with her blood. “You destroyed Xavier’s book.”

  “I did.”

  He sighed. “You amaze me with your continual poor choices, Julija. That book was invaluable, although it is not necessary to me, just a mere shortcut.” He glanced uneasily over his shoulder, looking not toward the hellhounds, lightning and battle between Anatolie and Isai, but west. “We must go now.” He snapped his fingers at her and pointed to his side, expecting her to obey his command to come to him.

  At once she felt humiliation. That moment when he had forced her to her knees and made her crawl, begging for scraps of food, begging for water. He made her pay dearly for every concession. She shook her head. “Go, Barnabas. Go before Isai comes for you.”

  “Isai is nothing. I have no need to worry over him. The longer you resist, the more I will punish you. Do you remember how the lash feels tearing through your flesh? The pain of it?” He paused and let his gaze drift over her. Claiming her. “The pleasure?”

  He was making her feel those things just with his words. With his breath. She countered, knowing she was feeling a little desperate, but trying not to show him.

  Circle of light become a pillar.

  Wrap around me as if a cocoon.

  Holding back both words and sound,

  That would seek to harm and wound.

  “I see you think you have learned to protect yourself from me. Do you think your childish spells can possibly counter mine? You are a child next to me. I learned from my uncle Xavier, no more than a child working by his side. My father, Xaviero, also taught me many things, things Xavier had never learned. I also had the advantage of training under my other uncle, Xayvion, and, although he preferred to stay behind the scenes, in the background, he undoubtedly was the most powerful. I have the advantage of all three.”

  As he spoke, his tone casual, almost conversational, his hands moved gracefully by his side, fingers tapping a rhythm on his thigh. He never spoke casually or conversed with her, not since he had revealed himself to be dark and cruel. She wasn’t in the least deceived. She knew it was an attack on her, she just was uncertain where it was coming from. She had protected herself against his voice—

  The ground opened up, dropping her straight down. He smiled at her as she fell into the dark hole, the one he would bury her in and leave her in for indeterminate days and nights with only a small straw to breathe through. Dirt filled in all around her. His hands were up now, weaving a pattern, as he murmured his command. She kept her gaze fixed on that pattern as well as his lips as the soil consumed her.

  As the dirt filled in around her, Isai’s voice poured into her mind. You are Carpathian, my love. The earth welcomes you. You have no need to breathe air if it is your desire not to. He cannot harm you by putting you in the very place that rejuvenates you.

  Julija hadn’t considered the soil would revitalize her. It would regenerate her torn flesh and restore her. It took a few minutes to overcome her need for oxygen. She had to fight not to panic, but she was able to follow Isai’s steady breathing. Once she realized she could do it, she took her time thinking how best to counter Barnabas as she rose from the soil. Something to put him down hard. Very hard. She still had the little ritual dagger. It was small, but it carried a tremendous amount of power.

  Her heart began to pound. If he was listening, he would feel triumphant, as if he had gained what he wanted—her terror so she would cooperate. It wasn’t that. She knew the moment she struck at him, he would retaliate just as hard, just as fast, or even harder and faster. She was so afraid of him.

  Steeling herself, she burst through the so
il, practically right at his feet, giving her command.

  Earth surround me. Air encircle me.

  Thunder sound loudly. Lightning strike.

  Bring this evil down as I rise.

  Fire surround him.

  Earth help bind him.

  Vines entwining so he may not rise.

  Barnabas fell to the ground, slamming his head hard as he went down; his arms went limp like those of a rag doll, unable to cushion his fall. She lifted her hands to give him a second command and found herself on the ground, a rag doll beside him. He had simply used her own spell against her, so that neither could move.

  I am in your head, Julija. I know what you think to do with that dagger.

  The dagger began to slip from her pocket and move into the air above her throat. She countered quickly.

  That which is made of finest steel,

  I know your maker, I control your will.

  Steel that would cut and harm,

  I command your movement and order your return.

  She reached for Isai, knowing she had only seconds before Barnabas would counter the simple spell she used. She was already doing so, which would help him do the same.

  Your Carpathian lover has abandoned you, left the battlefield like the cur he is. He will not save you from me.

  She was on her feet first and she exploded into action, catching at the dagger, stepping into him as he rose to plunge the blade into his heart. She’d forgotten her own blood was on the blade and the moment it entered him, those fresh drops gave him the advantage. He caught her hand with both of his, preventing her from shoving it all the way in. Looking straight into her eyes, using a blood sacrificial spell, one of the strongest, he commanded her body to come under his complete authority.

  She fell into his arms. He held her, shaking his head, and then he took the knife and plunged it into her abdomen just above her baby. Not deep, but it hurt like hell and scared her, wondering if he knew about the child. When he pulled out the blade he licked at the drops of blood. “I had forgotten how good you taste, Julija. I dream of your taste and yet when I actually have the blood in front of me, it is even better. We will leave this place. I have no doubt the Carpathians will succeed on the battlefield, defeat Anatolie and the hellhounds, but in the end, they lost the war, didn’t they? I have the prize.”