Amongst the Fallen

by Devin Lee Carlson

  A screeching banshee sprung from the dense fog. Her nails clawed his face when she crashed into him, knocking him onto the cobblestone. Sabree rolled to one side to escape the woman who loomed over him. He scrambled to his feet, but a stiletto boot struck his jaw and knocked him on his backside.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” she hissed.

  He recognized her voice and coughed on her name when she unleashed another blunt stab of her heel. Sabree groaned. With supernatural strength, she landed on top of him, her weight forcing the breath from his lungs. She grabbed his shirt and tore it open.

  The first blow knocked him into a stupor, preventing his escape, his misting ability already sluggish. He gained enough composure to catch a glimpse of the elongated fangs aimed at his exposed chest. The streetlight highlighted his attacker’s face.

  Ariane? A wildness he had never witnessed shone in her copper eyes, now outlined in red.

  “Stay away from us! We thought you changed. But then you attacked Brian on New Year’s Eve. So much for being a nice guy. You only wanted the drive.” Ariane shook the hair out of her face and hissed as she drove a dagger into his chest, piercing the flesh below his collarbone.

  “I won’t let you get your hands on this one, you bastard.” Her eyes pooled red. She squeezed them shut, glanced sideways, and dropped the f-bomb. Then her fiery gaze shot downward. Her fangs dove into his wound. She sucked hard.

  Sabree tried to mist away but couldn’t. It had been several days since his last feed and traveling via mist to Scotland had drained him. Now, copious amounts of blood flowed freely. His head swam as he tried to push her away.

  An arrow whooshed overhead and bounced off the brick wall behind him. Another whoosh made Ariane release her hold. A gasp escaped her lips. She toppled off him, landing with a thud. A thin metallic rod protruded from her back. Her gaze met his with widened eyes, the hue simmering to yellowish brown. A tear fell as her lids closed.

  Silence deafened Sabree until his own raspy pants filled his ears. He expected Euriel to dive in as his savior but scowled at the sight of the feminine silhouette.

  “Are you all right?”

  Stunned, Sabree groaned as he struggled to sit upright, unwilling to let his rescuer know he suffered from humility more than from injury. The DanJal immortal did not blow his recent rescue operation to save Brian. “Serine,” he whispered. Guilt chased away the chill of blood loss. Partial blame for losing the zygotes had forced her to leave the Caderen clan and join the DanJal. His mentor was one of few whom he still respected from either clan.

  Serine leaned over to offer him a hand. “I warned you to be careful and should have included Ariane, not just her brother,” she said with a smirk. Ringlets of platinum hair softened her narrow face.

  The day he rescued Brian from the DanJal stronghold, Sabree had only given her a hurried glance. He took her slender hand and let her pull him to his feet, eyeing her expression as his suspicions mounted. Her bright green eyes glistened with indifference when she looked down at Ariane’s still form.

  “Our lady ghoul has been a bit naughty,” Serine said. “Outdoes her brother when she sets her mind to it.”

  “Ours?” He stared at Serine’s pale complexion, amazed she hadn’t changed a bit. Her long tresses still flowed down her back. A bit unsteady on his feet, Sabree applied pressure to the wound with the palm of his hand.

  “The poor dear.”

  Sabree knelt next to Ariane and pulled the rod from her back, slinging it at Serine’s feet. The metal clanged when it bounced off the stone. “Save the act,” he said, his eyes fixed on Serine. “You’re about as trustworthy as Euriel.”

  His hearts ached, his attention now on Ariane. He rolled her over to examine the wound. By her drinking his blood tonight, she leapt face first into the dreaded club of the Fallen. Unlike her brother, she would later despise herself for crossing over to the dark side.

  “Don’t fret, she’ll live.”

  “I fear her wound will be the least of her worries,” Sabree muttered as he stared at Ariane’s face. Several of her features resembled her brother: the high cheekbones, the slender nose, and the finely sculptured chin. The two had distinct traits of their own as well. Unlike hers, Brian’s eyes had a crazed look, often darting back and forth. The twins’ lips looked oddly different. Brian’s mirrored a male version of the Mona Lisa smile. A permanent smirk, whereas Ariane’s lower lip formed a pout until it curled up. Sabree wished she smiled more often. Her unconscious femininity mellowed his bitterness; however, her savage attack had left him shaken. And somewhat aroused. His lips parted.

  “Your concern for the ghoul is touching. Like I said before, she will survive.”

  He squinted at Serine. The lamplight shining behind her head created a halo effect. So will I. Thanks for your concern. He removed his hand from the wound, shook it, and grimaced at the amount of red dust drifting in the heavy fog. No longer was he her concern, those mentoring days gone forever.

  Sabree rose to his feet and lacked the strength to intercept the drive from Brian, his own wound taking longer to heal. The need to replenish blood called for one source only—his favorite ghoul. The idea of drinking anyone else’s blood appalled him. His plan to catch up with Brian ended when Serine spoke.

  “You look deathly ill, Sabree. When was the last time you fed?”

  “Why are you here, Serine?”

  “This goes beyond the journal, my friend. Blood is thicker than water with this brother and sister, more than you realize. Brian suffers from his father’s legacy more than his sister. That revelation alone should concern us all. You have your hands full, especially if you uphold your promise to watch over them.”

  The mention of his promise chilled what little blood flowed in his veins.

  “How many times must I remind you?” Serine glared at him. “When I arrived, you had already left with the zygotes. Tim E. Traveler betrayed the Fallen. The twins are tainted. Turian had seen to that.”

  “The thief was definitely male. Never knew him by name though.”

  “It’s time you move past the consequences of your failure. Protect Turian’s children.”

  Sabree’s mind raced. Wait, Turian not Duncan had tainted them? But how? Why go to such extremes to protect such tainted beings? He’d agree for now to soothe her unease. “You’re right, I should move on. What’s done is done. Forgive my mistrust. Tainted or not, I believe Brian is the key to the portal.”

  “The portal? Put an end to your tiresome obsession to reopen the portal. There are greater things at stake. Besides, the Malakhim will never let us return.”

  The analytical scientist opened freely as he reached deep into her mind without alerting her that he could penetrate thoughts against someone’s will. He found what he was looking for: images of her working with Duncan Colton while they prepared the birth of zygotes. Neither had subjected the zygotes to human DNA. No other explanation, Serine must have hired the Judas thief. Sabree released her mind and glanced at where Ariane’s body had been. She was gone.

  “She ran off seconds ago. I think I scared her. You have quite the challenge ahead.” Serine hesitated for a moment. “You have always been trustworthy. Continue to watch over the twins, especially Brian. Swear to protect him from danger.”

  How dare she order him around as if she were still his mentor. “I’m team Brian. I will protect him at all cost.” His untruth made the rising bile burn his throat. One danger he could not promise to defend Brian against was himself.

  “Then I shall leave you to your task,” Serine said, bowing her head.

  None of the last fifteen minutes made sense to Sabree. After Ariane’s attack, he wasn’t sure if he was team Ariane either. Why did Serine betray Turian and then him? What did she have to gain by working with Duncan? What was her goal back then and more so, now? Did she prevent him from detecting Ariane’s attack? An uncomfortable realization struck him. What if Serine prearranged this attack to prevent him from going after Brian.

/>   His condition anemic, Sabree no longer wished to deal with the uncertainties, his exit long overdue. He stepped aside, tired of looking into her green eyes of betrayal. “Till we meet again.” He backed away until a fine mist enveloped him, although it never transpired completely. His semitransparent form set adrift, mingling with the rising fog.

  33

  THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE

  D eep inside the catacomb recess, I stayed behind to stand guard. Dread consumed my mind, fierce enough to stop me from descending the final drop into the tomb. The horror of the tons of earth burying me alive doubled my fears. Every cell in my body convulsed, warning me not to enter.

  I managed to move the conversation along while leaning into the cavity to keep an eye on Eric. “Hey. Can you hear me?”

  “Loud and clear. So can anyone else within a half-mile radius—keep it down.”

  Gravel crunched against stone when Eric’s boots touched ground. Minutes passed by; the imaginary second-hand ticked, echoed between my eardrums. The only things I could see were the shadows cast from his flashlight. I waited as the silence whittled my patience bit by bit. “Well? Did you find it?”

  “I’ll be damned. The drive’s intact, safe inside the airtight container. I paid buku bucks for it. Now we’re even with Wayde and Sabree—one each.”

  From my vantage point, the small alcove came to life when a melon-sized shadow of a spider popped into view. Ready to warn him, I grasped my skull to ward off the sudden onslaught of shrill chants and contorted faces that flooded my mind. A bronze wristband zoomed in and out like a strobe light. Monotone voices demanded my death. My sanity was under attack, the only hope for peace was hidden within the amulet.

  I blinked to block the invasion of alien images. The bronze amulet took precedence as though it possessed my soul. The drive took a back seat. I leaned into the crevice and hollered, “Look for a bracelet hidden behind the urn—a wristband. Dig around for it.”

  “Bracelet?” Eric muttered aloud. “The original expedition cleaned this place out. All that’s left is the marble-lined alcove and a hairy spider.” Eric released a heavy sigh. “Let me check behind the marble.”

  A tool scraping rock echoed up the tight shaft. “Spiders don’t play tug-of-war,” Eric said.

  The distinct clunk of metal piqued my interest. I almost fell in.

  “On my way up.”

  Odd. Why didn’t he say whether he found the bracelet or not? Minutes later, I held a hand up to block the spray of flashlight blinding me. Flickering shadows filled the dark antechamber. I swiped at one overhead.

  “Easy, dude, it’s me.” Eric crawled out of the lower level and flung the rucksack aside.

  My eyes focused on him. “Did you find it?” Anxious, unable to wait for an answer, sticky fingers padded the outside of the bag and felt nothing. My palm held open, I wiggled a few fingers in front of Eric’s face, waiting for the amulet to drop into my hand.

  Instead of the prized object, Eric held out the blue flash drive. I slapped it from his hand only to snatch it midair thanks to my quick reflexes.

  “What’s your problem?” Eric yelled. His voice betrayed anger.

  “The amulet.” I said flatly. “Hand it over.” My presence alone forced Eric against the wall.

  “I didn’t find anything. Everything was removed with the urn years ago.”

  Enhanced intuition convinced me otherwise. “Bullshit.” An unfamiliar yet nostalgic entity on Eric’s person nagged my curiosity. “Why are you lying?” I pressed onward until Eric shoved away from the wall with a pickax in hand.

  His quick maneuver and aggressive stance caught me off guard. “Easy, lad.” I stepped back with my hands held out. “Don’t trust me?”

  “Me trust you in the darkest of catacombs? Hah, you’re madder than the Mad Hatter. You have the drive. I want out.”

  The nervous chuckles reminded me that this was neither the time nor the place to settle the conflict brewing between us. I preferred a warm, casual pub to discuss our differences. But first, Eric had to turn over the amulet. “We’re friends; let’s hit the pub and discuss this over a few brews.”

  Without waiting for a response, I whipped behind him and wrapped an arm around his neck. The other squeezed the pickax against his chest. My strong will or impassioned desire to secure the prize made no difference, I had to have it even at the cost of losing our so-called friendship. I squeezed harder. Eric’s back stiffened when my breath tickled the hairs on the nape of his neck. My heightened speed never settled well with the spelunker.

  “You buying?” Eric finally asked. He pried the metal device from his pocket and held it out as a peace offering. “I believe this is yours.”

  Quicker than my last maneuver, I shoved him aside and snatched the amulet. A calmness settled over me. I twisted around to offer thanks but stumbled back when Eric sprang at me with the ax aimed at my throat. The cold metal chafed my neck. Snapped me out of the fixation. Apparently, the atmosphere in the claustrophobic catacomb drove us both over the edge. My mind reeled. How would I save the good sense between us? “That’s it then? There can be only one?”

  The unexpected crack in reference to The Highlander worked its magic. The tension in Eric’s body flowed outward as he lowered the ax. “This is nuts, I think Turian’s poltergeist is rubbing off on us.” Eric pointed at the object hidden in my fist. “Just don’t call that thing precious, if you know what I mean.”

  “Can’t agree more.” The tension rolled off my shoulders. I waved Eric ahead and shrugged, surrendering to the man’s distrust when he refused to budge. “Follow me then.” Sadness underlined my tone.

  Ahead, I led the way, paying attention to the amulet more than the path. My fingers fumbled with the piece tucked inside my pocket, scraping off the clay-hardened exterior. I pulled it out to inspect my progress. An odd, luminous wristband glistened. A flat, circular disk marked with unusual golden engravings graced the center of the wristband. A fine gold lever emerged from the hub like a sundial. This could turn out good or, in my case, disastrous. My arms tensed when I moved the dial click by click to the first symbol: two wavy lines.

  A thunderous blast slammed me against the wall and knocked the breath from my lungs as if a section of space had flip-flopped in front of me. At the same time, it felt like someone tried to pull my shoulder blades apart with a pry bar. I cried out. Eric yelped behind me. Doubled over, my fingers released their grip on the amulet. The turbulence and pain stopped. Everything returned to normal.

  Eric’s brow wrinkled as he held the pickaxe tight against his torso. He approached with caution. “Are you okay? What the hell was that? Something out of a sci-fi movie? A ripple of air folded over itself, exploded with a pop, and then—nothing.”

  “Aye, weird.” Still leaning against the wall, I studied the amulet for a moment and then gently eased it into my pocket. The ancient piece would warrant a thorough examination and cleansing before I attempted to wear it. Somehow, no one could remove the device from my person whether I was alive or dead. The journal came to mind and I hoped Pop’s research would disclose a few answers.

  On the road heading to the hotel, we passed many a pub. Neither one of us cared to stop, realizing it best to crash instead. Along with the stillness of the late night, we walked side by side until I broke the silence. “How’d the Fallen kill Turian?”

  “Who?” Eric scratched his scalp.

  “Turian, the one buried inside the tomb.” Visions of his body exploding into a ball of dust rushed through my mind as if I witnessed his death from the front row. I ignored the foresight. “Sensed things inside the tomb. Turian was murdered—but how or why?” I coughed on a breath. You know who murdered Turian. Again, I ignored the voices. “Pop—Duncan never mentioned the tomb or the story behind it.”

  “There’s more to this mystery than just the amulet. I remember a scroll Prof found inside the urn under the ashes.” Eric stopped and stared at the hotel off in the distance. “He had the language, a com
bination of Phrygian and Albanian, deciphered by one of the Fallen. The professor volunteered information about the scroll to win my loyalty and now, in turn, I might use this information to gain your trust.”

  Not knowing what to say, I chuckled. “It’s more an issue of you trusting me. You never told me about the scroll. Why now? And how did Duncan’s team miss the amulet?”

  “He insisted I keep the scroll secret from you and Ariane. The professor managed to translate bits of the text and entered them into the journal. The amulet was tucked away, but not enough to miss being detected. I thought it odd too.”

  “Go on,” I whispered. A grave sadness plagued my soul.

  “Many of the Fallen turned against the dead dude—”

  “Turian,” I said to correct him.

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever. They betrayed Turian to cut communications between him and those who banished them. No idea what it meant. Prof was clueless. Yet, one of the DanJal scientists, Serine I think, worked with him, warning him that you and Ariane could inherit memories from Turian. We all thought it impossible until I heard rumors about your dreams of alien worlds and weird creatures. Serine told the professor that seven Caderen members tried to murder Turian by consuming his life force. They used their combined wills to make him auto combust, but rumor has it that only an eighth assailant succeeded. Turian’s body burned until it reached the point of no return; dust-to-dust, ashes-to-ashes. Duncan claimed a few strands of hair were the only evidence of DNA, but I don’t believe it.” He risked a glance my way. “Heard enough?”

  Seven failed. Only I could take the credit. Where did these strange recalls come from? I shook the cobwebs from my mind. “No,” I finally replied. I missed a step and nearly tripped over my own foot. Had I lost the battle for my sanity? Not now, not ever, I promised myself.

  “There’s nothing more to tell.”

  Tired eyes blinked away disapproval. Eric still kept some truths from me, probably because he blamed me for drinking his blood. Unavoidable, since the dire situation had called for me to even the score with Sabree. If I didn’t take control of Eric first, Sabree would definitely mark him, as he did Ariane. “You’re still pissed off because I drank your blood. Hell, I only took a wee bit, and remember, I had no choice.” My insides constricted as if a succubus drained the life force from my body.