by T. G. Ayer
Perhaps he'd intended to take her away while unconscious but he wouldn't have needed to worry as whoever his spies were would have told him that she was bound. Which meant he hadn't planned at all for the power she held within her. His angry cry told her he'd seen something that he didn't like and she wished he'd speak enough for her to understand.
And then she blinked and the markings on her skin undulated, the feeling strange now as they appears to drag themselves through her flesh leaving a trail of pain in their wake, as though they were becoming solid, jagged enough to damage her as they moved within her hand.
Evie blinked away the heat of tears and steeled herself against checking her hands of the blood she was sure she'd be seeing. The shade transformed into a screaming whirling dervish of shadows that looked more like a large ragged cloak slowly shredding into tattered remnants while spinning around in a mini tornado.
The air began to feel heavier now, as the water was turning into a more solid jellylike substance rather than transforming back into its natural state.
Evie had to resort to holding her breath this time as the air thickened into a gloopy sludge, threatening to fill her lungs and remain there. Death by slug suffocation was something she'd rather avoid. The screaming--if that was what it truly was--continued and Evie became certain that time had either slowed or come to a standstill.
Air rushed inside the cell--the spell flowing away as if the shade had lost control of his magic. Evie skin still continued to pulse and throb with the energy from the markings. She deliberately met his eyes--eyes which began to glow, the burnt orange of sunsets, the pale pinks of a calm summer morning, colors that didn't belong in the eyes of pure evil. Shadows flitted within the dark orbs and Evie was almost frozen, staring as his gaze wove a web around her.
Only the searing heat of the markings kept her sane. Her entire body now throbbed with that burning power and Evie she didn't have much longer. She'd have to expend that energy or she'd explode.
She took a slow breath and pushed with all her might, using her mind and her spirit to defend against the horror now determined to wipe her sanity away. But the power within her body required conduit, a way out. The most logical was her hands.
Evie took only seconds to decide before conveying the intention to her markings. She'd done it instinctively, without being told how, and she hoped she’d done it right.
She would be the God of Death herself, and deliver a permanent ending to the shade who'd come to eliminate her.
Chapter 7
The shade-cloud grew steadily larger, shadowy cloak solidifying slowly spreading about like eerie tentacles until it loomed over Evie like a terrible monster, now as large as the solid stone ceiling of the cell, and she had to raise her chin to look up at the creature.
He hovered above her, the darkness around him like a vacuum of color, electricity now streaking from his ragged fingers, white lightning flickering from his skeletal digits which were encased in rags of skin barely held together by ragged threads of rotten grey-brown skin.
Evie tasted ozone now, and found that the air was now back to its normal state of nothingness and she was no longer choking on water. Though it was a good sign, though it also implied that the shade may have another plan.
Evie wasn't in the mood for anymore surprises.
The shade wielded the power of the air and the elements, twirling lightning from within its darkness It was now little more than an ominous cloud, hovering over Evie. She pulled at her bonds around her wrists to attract the creature’s attention. Evie tugged harder now, calling as much of sparking energy into her hands as she was able. Power that hoarded there—she'd have to strike soon.
She could sense a building up of the shade’s emotions, could read him better now. And, just as she’d predicted, he attacked. He angled himself at Evie, then surged straight at her. He came with speed and force, moving so fast that she'd barely blinked before he reached her.
But Evie didn’t react. Instead, she allowed him to slide right through her body, where he left a trail of icy deadness in his wake, left Evie shuddering, skin crawling.
She was going to bleach her insides first chance she got.
Evie shoved her disgust aside, cupped her palm and pooled her energy within her half-open fist. Within seconds the power had built up to the raging force of a hurricane and Evie let it fly, sending spheres of energy right at the shade’s head.
He stared wildly as the missiles slammed into him one blow at a time, sending him cartwheeling backwards so fast he couldn't wrangle his power to keep himself upright. The shade glared at her as he righted himself, the skin on his face contorted in a macabre parody of shock and anger.
Evie glanced briefly at her wrists. The cuffs hadn’t been magically removed--that would have been too easy—but her own magic had fashioned a barrier between her skin and the power of the Angel Bonds’ spell.
The creature’s screeching stabbed suddenly into Evie's ears and she groaned out loud. She looked up, satisfied that the eyes of the screaming shade tracked her movements, then twisted her wrists against straps desperately, her intent to distract the creature. He fell silent as he stared at Evie, bony shoulders now peeking through his tattered robe, rounded and waiting, as though to defend against her attack.
Evie swallowed hard as the tidal wave of her power flared out around the cell, slamming into the shade. Too late, she realized her error--she'd used too much energy too fast.
The shade had tricked her, used a feint to draw her out. And now her power from the Marks had depleted to a low ebb, a concern only exacerbated as she watched the splinter twisting in the air above her head. His cackling laughter rang around the cell as he flung out his hands and threw a volley of electric bolts at Evie with an almost childlike joy.
She ducked in time to avoid a fork of lightning, and just missed being struck full in the face. The bolt zinged so close past her cheek that she felt the singe as the heat scraped her skin, then smelled the odor of burned hair—the lightning missile had also chopped a hunk of her hair off.
More and more bolts sailed at her and Evie’s panic began to rise. She sent her thoughts at the Marks on her arms, almost a prayer to build up more energy faster.
And they complied with the slow simmering rise of heat in her skin. Hope flared even as she dodged a pair of lightning strikes. She evaded them both, but a third struck home.
The creature crowed with delight and Evie took a slow breath, ignoring the pain and the rip in her pants. And the strong odor of cooked flesh.
Cooked nephilim, actually.
Evie gritted her teeth and focused on pulling the heat and energy from the Marks to her skin and through to the palms of her hands. The energy coming off the shade had become more intense, making Evie afraid now that the power she channeled from the marks wouldn't be enough to survive this battle with the evil shadow.
But there were whispers in her mind, and in her ears, gentle sounds that coaxed her to calm down, to breathe and to focus. To stop panicking.
And Evie put her trust in the marks. She'd done it once already and the marks had proven she could trust them. So now she concentrated on clearing her mind and dodging the oncoming lighting bolts from above her.
And then the shade dropped to the floor in front of Evie, a maniacal smile splitting his face, his grin clownlike and devilish all at the same time. He thought he'd won, he thought he'd succeeded in removing all her defences.
But she had a surprise up her sleeve. Evie fisted her hands, praying he wouldn't move from where he now floated in front of her. And then, putting the force of all her spirit and all her fear, Evie shoved hard. She pushed the power out of her palms and sent it streaming at the Shard of Darkness.
Evie held her hands stiff, shocked at the immense energy that streamed forth. And so glad the cuffs held them in place. She found it incredibly difficult to keep her hands still, to hold her aim steady and to ensure the power was fed directly into the dark shadow’s center.
The splinter of the evil shade shuddered under the onslaught of the energy of Hades, and Evie watched with bated breath. She didn't want to even blink in case it split her focus, in case it decreased the amount of power she focused onto the shade.
And soon he began to shudder and shake, small strips of shadows tearing off from his body and floating away, turning from solid flesh to darkest mist. And the black smoke twisted on the air then floated around before fading away.
But the rest of the creature didn't have the punishment of a slow death. The power of Hades had built up to a frenzy as it accumulated within the body of the dark creature that, and now there was little left to contain that mass of energy,
And the shade exploded.
Fragments of leathery skin and blackness were flung out from the body of the dark creature, spraying around the cell landing in little piles everywhere on the stone floor and even on Evie herself.
She shrugged the pieces off but her disgust was curtailed as the sound of crumbling rock hit her like an avalanche. Ragged gaps splintered two walls of her cell, the others nothing more than a small pile of rubble, revealing the black soil of the land around the basement dungeon.
The rest of the dungeon had also suffered from the blast and Evie blinked as she stared ahead of her to see the entire level of the castle had been blasted away. In the distance were piles of stone all in heaps beyond the circle of the explosive energy.
And from above, Evie heard the rumblings of the castle itself. With the basement and the foundations blown out from beneath the building, its floors and walls were slowly beginning to collapse.
“What have I done?” she Evie let out a shriek of fear , terror cracking her voice and garbling her words. But the Marks swarmed again, whispering comfort and reassurance again. And what they conveyed to her was hope, and that this would be fixed.
Evie wasn’t sure what to think, but even as panic took hold of her, she found the cell around her reforming, the cracks in the roof above her head healing with the ceiling of stone reforming.
She’d barely taken her second breath when the stones of the walls began to return themselves to where they belonged, as though time was working in reverse. Evie choked on her next breath.
That was exactly it. Time was being rewound, but it was putting everything right, to what it had been before, without the presence of the evil shadow.
Could time really make a selection as to what it wanted to rewind, picking and choosing as it wished?
Whatever was happening, Evie didn’t have any objections.
Mere moments later, the cell had returned to normal and Evie was sitting there, hands bound by angel bonds, listening to the silence of the dungeons echo around her.
Chapter 8
Evie blinked, then took a breath as though she hadn’t inhaled fresh air in years.
What had just happened?
But she didn’t have time to rehash the crazy impossibility of the last hour. The hall outside her door echoed with the sound of a set of boots as they marched their way along the dungeon halls toward her cell and Evie stiffened, the leather cuffs were no longer sodden against her skin.
She waited in silence, heart at a steady even pace as the keys rattled in the ancient lock and the door was swung open. A gargoyle guard paused on the threshold, silver eyes devoid of expression as he strode to her and proceeded to remove the cuffs from around her ankles.
Once the leather belts clanked to the stone floor, he held a hand out and waved her forward. Despite the lack of words, he didn’t force her or manhandle her in any way. He simply waited like a stone carving, unmoving until she decided to take the opportunity to learn more about her situation.
She stepped toward the cell door and the gargoyle tipped his head at her, a strange mark of respect given the cool aloofness of his expression. Evie stalked ahead, spine straight as she crossed the threshold.
Then she paused and waited in the hallway, a silent request that he lead the way. Oddly enough, the gargoyle didn’t seem bothered that he was vulnerable, that he’d shown her his back, giving her the power to attack from behind.
All Evie did was shake her head. Things were happening that were far too strange and she was beginning to wonder if she’d entered an alternate dimension. Gargoyles never treated the warriors of Irin with any kind of familiarity. Nor did they stroll around the place, dropping their guard and making themselves deliberately vulnerable.
If there was a message in his actions, Evie wasn’t sure how to decode it. Not yet anyway. She followed him in silence as he led her upstairs, then another floor up toward the office that had once been Patrick’s and had then housed Marcellus who’d betrayed them all, who’d killed Patrick in order to take his position.
And now, the new Master would have taken up residence there too. But her gargoyle guard didn’t slow his stride as they reached the door to the Master’s office. Instead, he kept walking all the way along the hall, only stopping at a doorway three doors down.
Also an office, this room had been reserved for the use of visiting dignitaries and was equipped with a boardroom as well as a more intimate office space.
The guard knocked on the door and then waited. A cool musical voice bade them enter and the gargoyle thrust the door open and then met Evie’s eyes for the briefest moment. He wasn’t going to instruct her to do anything. He was giving her the choice to enter of her own free will.
What in the name of the Lord was going on here?
Evie nodded at him, holding his gaze just long enough for him to see her gratitude, Then she lowered her gaze and entered the room, listening as he closed it gently behind her. The gargoyle’s every movement had been respectful, gentle, nothing at all the way a criminal would be treated.
Inside the room, Evie was pleased to see that the new Master had decided to select a better location for her office. The room had always been decorated in a little brighter, more autumnal feel. Drapes the color of rusted metal and autumn leaves, walls tinged in the blush of a sunset, glossy wood floors scattered with a collection of handwoven rugs, Persian, Moroccan, Mongolian.
The space welcomed Evie like the embrace of a friend and she let out a soft sigh as she walked toward the large mahogany desk where Master Goodwin sat, watching, expression serene.
Still bound, Evie had no doubt that she remained very much a prisoner, and yet the treatment she received didn’t imply an instant pronouncement of guilt. So she tried to entertain even some small hope that there was a way out.
As Evie stopped in front of the desk, Mykia waved a hand to indicate the sofa behind her. Evie sat slowly, trying not to look at the leather cuffs around her wrists. She took a breath and met the Master’s gaze.
“I apologize, Evangeline. I did mean to have you brought to see me hours ago, but I’ve been distracted with a few issues in the case. I was hoping to have them ironed out before this visit but I confess I’ve had little success. Which means of course I will have to rely on you to throw some light upon the situation. And I do hope you would do so willingly.”
Evie arched an eyebrow. “Is there some reason why I wouldn't?”
Mykia pursed her lips. “I honestly don’t know at this point.”
Evie huffed. “Is anyone going to explain the full charges to me? I mean, I know I’m being charged with murder but as to who exactly I’m meant to have killed, I’m still yet to be told.”
Mykia blinked, then paused for a long moment. Then she sighed and shook her head. “I must apologize. There appears to be some confusion as to who was meant to bring you up to speed on the case. I have insisted from the beginning that this issue be dealt with in the most fair and just manner. You were meant to receive all the documents and filings related to the case as well as copies of all the written statements associated with the charge.”
Evie shrugged and sank back against the pillows. “Well, I’ve not been visited by any legal representative. Nor have I been given any paperwork regarding the case. The only thing I was given was a meal of
soup and bread, maybe four hours ago.”
Mykia’s eyes flashed with anger. She shrugged, got to her feet and stalked to the door where she flung it open so fast that the guard flinched, though he didn’t step away as she snapped, “Have some food sent up to us. And get Master Braxus up here now.”
She didn’t wait for his reply, just shut the door without another word.
Thankfully, Evie had spotted him already turning and heading down the hall. She found it odd how casually Mykia treated the gargoyle guards, not at all in keeping with the previous Grand Master.
Then Evie relaxed. Patrick had treated them the same way, with respect and a gentle care. He’d seen them as people, not strange supernatural shifters who were skilled at being watchdogs and soldiers.
Was that why they treated Evie with a similar respect?
Or did it have more to do with the new Grand Master?
Chapter 9
Evie waited in silence as the Master returned to her seat, her lips a thin line of frustration. She plopped herself down and let out a soft huff. “I know this must have come as a shock to you and I’d hoped to help you be better prepared to handle the whole thing.”
“Trial included?”
She raised her dark eyes, her gaze penetrating. “Trial included,” she murmured, tipping her head in acknowledgement of my deeper meaning.
I sighed and sat forward, my warded cuffs now propped up on my knees, a veritable wall of accusation between us.
Mykia looked at the cuffs around Evies wrists and her expression went blank. Evie was having real trouble trying to figure the woman out. Mortals were confusing sometimes. The Master though, would be more mage than mortal although the Irin frowned on the use of that magic.
Sometimes a Master may be elected who possessed more magic than he was capable of keeping to himself, and the annals of the Irin contained many a tale of a Master gone bad, who’d used both his own magic as well as the power of his position as the head of the winged warriors of the Irin, to his own personal advantage.