He was dead in seconds.
My hand was shaking, my heart was pounding, and while Abvat was dead, the stone was still going, still charging up, still jerking and spinning, jerking and spinning. Crag had managed to get most of the people out of the room, but he was making his way toward Aaryn, who still lay unconscious, and that was to say nothing about the other still unconscious people scattered around the Superkey. We needed more time if we wanted to get everyone to safety before this thing detonated, because it was absolutely going to explode. I’d never been surer about something before in my life.
“Sorry, Fate,” I said, and I hurled myself at the stone, grabbing it with both hands and pulling it toward my chest. The stone was cold to the touch, so cold it burned my skin, but I didn’t scream. Even as the searing pain ripped through me, even as the stone’s magic filled me, overloading my senses, I didn’t scream.
There was a moment, at the apex of it all, an instant before the stone exploded, where time seemed to come to a standstill. The pain was gone, though my senses were clear and sharp—sharper than they’d ever been. I opened my eyes, and for a moment I didn’t see the store, I saw clouds, the tip of a mountain, a floating city in the sky with tall walls and even taller towers, and a golden sunrise like none that had ever graced this planet before.
Madly, I thought I could just take a step and I’d be there, but the vision shattered and I was back in the store, in the dark, with the stone clutched in my hands. I curled myself into a ball, pulling the stone even closer to my chest. Draven’s voice swam to the edge of my senses. He was yelling for me, racing toward me, his face lit up by the light from the stone, but then he stopped running and stared at me.
Something was happening.
I felt the warmth first, a feeling that reminded me of home, then I saw them, unfurling and curling around me. Wings, huge, beautiful wings. But they weren’t real. They were translucent, ghostly, wings of light—wonderful, warm, golden light, sparkling around me. My breath caught in my throat, tears welled up in my eyes, then there was a bright flash, an instant of extreme cold, and then nothing.
A full day had passed since the explosion, and strangely, my memory of the events that took place weren’t fuzzy or lost—they were crystal clear. Ironic, really, that there were at least some memories I wished I didn’t have. Seeing Abvat’s eyes pop open when I stabbed him in the throat, the moment of Aisling’s betrayal, the look on those children’s’ faces as the magic of the singing stone sapped their essence and slowly killed them.
Those wings…
It had been a tough twenty-four hours or so, and while I’d spent the vast majority of it sleeping in the infirmary, that hadn’t helped one bit. Behind closed eyes, what were only the ghosts of sounds and sights became real, and worse than real; they became monstrous. Instead of children staring, it was a sea of large, helpless eyes, blinking helplessly against death itself as it stormed toward them. The Naga didn’t look human, but like real serpents as tall as bears, with fanning necks and incredibly large teeth. What sleep I’d had was restless and troubled, but it was better than being dead, which I definitely wasn’t.
The first thing I’d done after waking was call for Siren, who had for some reason been able to tell me where Fate was. I guessed whatever restriction had been placed on me had been lifted. I grabbed my backpack which had been set next to my bed, then I swung it over my shoulder and stepped out of the infirmary in search of Fate.
I’d done what I had to do, had upheld my end of the bargain. It was time to leave the Black Fortress and put the Obsidian Order behind us.
It was night outside, the full moon was high in the sky, and the courtyard fountain sparkled with light. I watched it as I walked through it to get to where Fate was, and I could see now that the stone of the Aevian statue itself glittered under the moonlight, as if there were precious gems buried inside of it.
“Mind if I join you?” Draven’s voice brought me to a standstill, clutching the strap of my backpack tightly.
I swallowed and turned around to look at him. He was resplendent in the moonlight, his most extreme features illuminated and glowing, but his eyes were still as black as coals and in them I could see myself, I could see my hair—white again—and my almost awkward expression. It wasn’t like me to feel like this around another person, but I remembered the way he had looked at me in the moment before the stone detonated, I’d seen the fear in his eyes. Fear that the stone was going to explode and kill everyone for miles, maybe, but maybe also fear that I would die.
“It’s your castle,” I said.
Draven stepped into line next to me and then started walking along the courtyard. He knew where I was going, I didn’t need to tell him or give him directions. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
“I’ve been better. At least I’m not dead, though.”
“I’m glad you survived.”
“Me too. I didn’t think I was gonna make it, there, for a second.”
“Do you…” he stopped.
“Do I what?”
“Do you have any idea… why… the stone didn’t explode?”
I shook my head. “None, though I’m starting to come to terms with the idea that I actually don’t know anything at all about this world, which is probably why I’m better off outside of it.”
Draven didn’t reply. Instead he made a soft Hmm sound.
“Is Aaryn okay?” I asked.
“She is. Crag is also doing well, as are the people we rescued.”
“The people? What happened to them?”
“We brought them here. There is plenty of room in the Black Fortress. Some of them will become prospects, others… we will find something for them.”
“Wait, wait.” I stopped and stared at him. “You’re telling me not only did you bring all those women and children here, but you’re also not going to weed out the weak and turn them all into soldiers?”
“No.”
“What about your trials? What about the Caretaker? Won’t she go hungry?”
“Why do you care? You’re leaving us.”
“I… I don’t, I was just…”
“Exactly,” Draven said, cutting me off. He continued walking. “I thought I should thank you before you left, that’s why I’m here.”
“Thank me?”
“Thanks to you, the Obsidian Order now has a singing stone in its possession.”
“You aren’t going to use it, are you?”
“None of us are proficient enough to dare, but we are going to study it and learn its mysteries. Singing stones are rare, incredibly rare. That you happened to find one in an antiques store in the city is going to baffle me for a long time, but more important question relates to the stones themselves.”
“And what’s that.”
“Can they take us home?”
I wasn’t sure of that myself. There was a moment, briefly, where I was holding the stone and I thought I could see the world on the other side of the rift. I could’ve been dreaming, it could’ve been a memory, one of those flashes people get when they’re about to die. But it felt real, too real. My instinct was that I had glimpsed the other side, even if only for a moment, and if I could do that then maybe the stones had the power to send us all home.
Maybe.
Or maybe all the stones had the power to do was turn people who would otherwise have decent, or at least understandable motivations, into totally selfish assholes with the capacity to kill to get what they wanted. Abvat wanted to get home to his family that were waiting for him on the other side. It was hard not to empathize with that, but I’d given him a chance, a few chances, and he’d made his choice. Now he was dead.
“What happened to Aisling?” I asked.
“She was dead by the time we reached her, she had died of blood loss, but Rey told us what happened.”
“Rey talked to you?”
“Not to me, but to Aaryn. It was brave of you to come after us like that. You were outnumbered, outclassed, outmatch
ed in every way, and yet you alone are the reason why we are all still having this conversation. The Order owes you a debt.”
“No offense, but I think Fate and I want to get as far away from the Order as possible.”
“Do you think so?”
“We’ve never been the kind to want adventure. We’re survivors, we’ve always just been survivors, living under the radar, keeping out of the public eye. The stuff you do… this life… I don’t know if I could do this forever.”
“There are some people who would consider membership in the Obsidian Order a privilege.”
“You’re probably right, but I’m not that kind of person, and neither is Fate. We very nearly died here more times in the last few weeks than we have in the 10 years we’ve lived on this world.” Fate’s door was coming up. I grabbed the handle but gave Draven a sidelong glance and a grin. “We’re gonna be pretty happy to go back to a normal life.”
I was about to knock on the door when the door opened on its own. Not much, just enough that I could see Fate’s head—and only her head—through the crack. She was red-faced, her hair was a mess, and as soon as her eyes found Draven, her mouth fell open. “Oh… hey,” she said, smiling sweetly.
I arched both eyebrows. “Bad time?” I asked.
“Sorry, I was—uh—getting changed.”
“Getting changed, huh? Who’ve you got in there?”
“In here? No one!” She brushed loose strands of her grey hair out of her face. “What, uh, what are you guys doing here?”
“I came to get you… we’re leaving tonight.”
“Leaving? Where?”
“Leaving home… they’re letting us go.”
Fate seemed confused by this. Her eyes fluttered to me, then to Draven, then back to me again. “I don’t get it. What’s happening?”
“We can go home, Fate. I helped them out with the stone, and Draven’s agreed to let us both go back to our lives. We can go back to watching TV, eating Chinese food, and keeping to ourselves—no more trials, no more magic, no more drama.”
“But… wait, don’t you, I mean, I don’t understand. I thought you liked it here?”
“Liked it here? What gave you that impression?”
“The fact that you sallied forth and risked your life to make sure Abvat didn’t use the stone? you’re not the same Seline as before we came in here. Also, I spent some of my time in a coma, but the few parts about this place I did get to see, I kinda like. I like the magic, I like the people, and I kind of like the drama. Why would I want to leave?”
I wasn’t looking at him directly, but I could tell Draven had turned his eyes on me. “I just… we aren’t safe, Fate. If something happened to you, I’d never forgive myself, and in here I can’t be around you as much as you need me to be.”
“Dude, I don’t need you to be around me all the time. I keep trying to tell you I’m not this little cripple girl that needs your help all the time.”
“I know, and I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel like that. But you saved my life, and I owe you mine.”
“You saved my life when you stopped the Naga from killing me in the infirmary. You’ve probably also saved my life a hundred times before that. We’re square.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You sure you really wanna stay?” I asked.
“Yeah, I am… it could be fun.”
“And it has nothing to do with the fact that you have a guy in there with you right now that you’d very much like to get back to?”
Fate’s cheeks flushed bright red. “A little bit, yes.”
I looked over at Draven, whose eyes would never give up what he was really thinking. “Do you have room for us?” I asked.
Draven nodded, but he didn’t say anything.
“Alright,” I said to Fate, looks like we’re st—”
“—awesome,” Fate said, and she slammed the door shut.
Nodding, I smiled at Draven. “She grows on you,” I said, “Promise.”
“So, you’ll stay,” Draven said, gesturing for me to walk with him.
“Looks that way.”
“You understand your actions yesterday, brave though they were… they don’t automatically graduate you from the level of prospect.”
“Does that mean I still need to pass my trials?”
“Yes.”
Like I couldn’t see that coming. “Fine, but I have a condition.”
“You already placed conditions on our first deal.”
“I know, but I think you’ll be okay with this.”
“State your terms.”
“You won’t kill Fate if I don’t pass my trials. I want her to carve her own path… I think it’s time she got the chance to do that.” I paused. “in fact, stop killing failed prospects in general. Just because they’re not physically gifted doesn’t mean that they’re not useful. They’re all worthy of living, plus they’ll all have memories of our world, some may even be able to help piece together more of our history.”
Draven sighed, then he spent a moment considering my words. “Fate will become a prospect… but she will be given trials that are better suited for her.”
“That’s all I can ask for.”
“I am sure given the circumstances you could ask for more. You saved many lives yesterday, including mine. You have earned at least some manner of luxury.”
“I want my phone back, and I want to eat fried chicken… and I want to be able to watch TV in my room.”
“You may have your phone back and I will make arrangements for your choice of food, but instead of TV, you can read a book. The library has thousands.”
I extended my hand. “Deal.”
Draven took my hand and firmly shook it. “Good. Report for training tomorrow at 6 AM… you’ll be with me this time.”
WINGS OF NIGHT
The Obsidian Order
Book Two
By Katerina Martinez
I had about twenty seconds to free myself of the magic bindings keeping my hands tied together, or I was as good as dead. I didn’t have anyone else to blame but myself for being in this situation, but right now wasn’t about assigning blame. I was hanging upside down, I couldn’t see a damn thing, and I wasn’t alone in this box I was in.
I turned my head up and let my body relax, relieving some of the pressure on my abdomen but sending that same pressure shooting into my head. The veins on my neck pulsed and throbbed, my temples were pounding, and my legs were starting to hurt from the effort of keeping myself held aloft. Under no circumstances could I let go and fall. Doing that was a sure-fire way of getting killed, and I wanted at least a fighting chance.
C’mon, Seline… concentrate.
Shutting my eyes—not like they were useful in this kind of impenetrable darkness anyway—I took a series of deep breaths to center myself and regain a little of my strength. Getting out of this alive was going to require a three-step approach. Number one, get my hands free. Number two, pull myself up and grab hold of the railings between my feet with my hands. Number three, feel my way around the dark and find the exit.
Easy, if I had three hours to do it in. Easier if I wasn’t upside down. I didn’t have either of those luxuries, though. In about fifteen seconds, whatever that thing down there was, it was going to be shot with a bolt of magic just powerful enough to wake it up and piss it off, then it was going to spot me, run at me, and eat me.
Alright, this is gonna hurt, but we have to do it.
I clasped my hands together, making my fingers touch, then I whispered, softly, “Rosha.” My entire upper back started to warm and tingle all at once as magic started tracing the tattoos along my shoulder blades. There was a moment after bringing my own magic out into the world where I almost felt good and comfortable, even righteous.
But that moment was paper-thin and fleeting, and easily overpowered by the intense pain that always followed.
I clenched my jaw against the sensation, shutting it so tightly I thought I was going to grind my own teeth
to dust. But the magic worked. When my energy touched the spell keeping my wrists bound together, it shattered like glass, allowing me to finally move my hands. Breathing through the pain still shooting through my back, I hoisted myself up. I grabbed blindly for the rails around my feet and switched my orientation so I was at least facing the right way.
Something stirred in the dark. I couldn’t see it, and no amount of magic light was going to pierce this darkness. The darkness was unnatural, conjured, a side effect of the very existence of the creature dwelling within it. They called it the Smother. No one except the person that had caught it had ever laid eyes on it, but it had killed almost forty prospects.
First, it would ensnare them in darkness, then it would wrap itself around their mouths, eyes, nose, before finally swallowing them whole—over a period of days. Oh, and something weird would happen to keep the victim alive and conscious while all that was going on.
Charming.
“Nice doggy,” I whispered as I reached for the nearest iron rail and swung my body across. “Nice doggy, good doggy. You’re not really hungry, are you? Nah. Besides, I’m skinny and small. Could I interest you in a Crag, perhaps? He’s pretty big.”
More stirring. I hurried along the iron rungs across the ceiling, moving blindly to find an exit in a pitch-black room. My hands were already sweaty and slippery, my arms and abdomen were burning from the exertion, and my legs were starting to feel way too heavy to carry. Still, I pushed forward, moving in the same direction until I hit a wall.
Somewhere beneath me, the Smother grumbled. It was awake. Crap. I felt my way along the wall, using the rungs above me to move across it, and using my feet to try and take a little pressure off my biceps.
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