Darkness Possessed (Order of the Blade)

by Stephanie Rowe

  Rohan nodded. “They are not good men.”

  And there it was. The issue. Power always had the potential to corrupt, and power in the hands of an amoral lunatic was dangerous indeed. He whistled softly, beginning to understand the level of threat they were dealing with here. “What’s their plan?” But even as he asked it, he grimaced. His job here was not to take on a bunch of enhanced bad guys terrorizing some South American jungle. His mission was Thano. “How does that relate to Thano?” he amended, changing the focus of his inquiry.

  Rohan leaned forward. “José is in possession of a staff that he uses to bring his warriors back from the state of being rogue. You must retrieve that staff.”

  Retrieve the staff. That was such a concrete solution to saving Thano: a staff that brought warriors back from the rogue state. Hope leapt through him, the first hope he’d felt since Thano had gone rogue. Was there really a way to save him? All he had to do was find José‘s staff and use it on Thano? A part of him wanted to jump up and head out after José right then and end this thing, but he was too experienced for that. So, instead, he took a mouthful of the stew while he considered this new information. A simple statement, that was obviously very deceptive. “Why can’t you get it? Why do you need me?”

  “Because you have fire.”

  Zach went still at the words. “Fire?” he repeated softly.

  “Fire. It’s the only way.” Rohan gestured at the torches that surrounded him. “These torches will keep us safe tonight, but they aren’t enough to get the staff. You are the only way, Zachary.”

  Zach closed his eyes as defeat tried to overtake him. Thano’s survival depended on him being able to use fire? Son of a bitch. He hadn’t been able to summon fire for a battle for more than six hundred years. His fire had been fading for a long time, and over the last day or two, the final vestiges of it had deserted him. “Why is fire needed?” His voice was soft, hoping that Rohan’s answer would give him another option.

  “Because he’s a fire god.”

  Rohan’s reply was so unexpected, that all Zach could do was stare at him. “A fire god? What are you talking about?”

  Rohan served himself some more stew. “Are you not familiar with the ancient Greek and Roman myths? Zeus, Apollo, Artemis, and all the others?”

  “Well, yeah, of course I am. But those are myths. Stories of fantasy and imagination.”

  “Yes,” Rohan acknowledged. “Many of the stories are the product of human invention. However, most of it is grounded in some level of fact. Very powerful beings that control the fundamental aspects of life exist. Call them gods if you wish, for want of a better term. They don’t bother with the earth realm much these days, but sometimes they show up here. When they do, it’s generally not a good thing for any of us. Most of the gods have no moral compass whatsoever.”

  Zach ran his hand over his jaw, scraping his knuckles against the rough stubble. A god? The kind that could create a tsunami simply by sneezing? Shit. What was he getting into? “If you’re correct that we’re dealing with a fire god, why would the torches stop him? What if he just sticks them in his armpits and uses them as a nice little self-massage tool?”

  “The fire wouldn’t stop him,” Rohan agreed. “But it seems to appease his minions when they hunt. They never bother us if we have fire.” He nodded at the moat. “That’s just in case one of them changes his mind. It won’t stop them, but it might give us a fraction of a second longer to react and defend ourselves.”

  “So why do you think I can make a difference?”

  “José controls fire. He bends it to his whim. He can use it as a weapon in any way he chooses. He’s impossible to get close to. He would incinerate us all within a millisecond.” Rohan shrugged. “You might survive.”

  Zach swore under his breath. In the old days, yeah, sure. He would’ve been all over chasing down some arrogant fire god who could save his teammate. But now? He glanced over at the torches around him and surreptitiously flicked his index finger toward one of them and commanded the flame to rise.

  It stayed exactly as it was.

  It had been only days ago that he’d been able to feed a campfire. Now he couldn’t even do that. “Is he always on fire? Or does he have to turn it on?”

  Rohan shrugged. “I don’t know. Everyone I’ve sent to go after him has died. All I find is their burned-out carcass.” His voice grew hard. “He has killed three of my warriors. It ends now.”

  “You sacrificed three of your warriors to save one?” Zach’s gaze slid thoughtfully toward the dark shadows that concealed Trevor. What was so special about Trevor that it was worth the sacrifice of so many warriors to save him?

  “How many of my warriors would you sacrifice to save Thano?” Rohan challenged.

  “None. I wouldn’t ask any of them to sacrifice themselves. I would do it myself.” Zach was disgusted that Rohan had sat back in his little protective campfire while he sent his team to their death. “What kind of a leader are you? Sending others to die instead of handling it yourself?”

  Rohan stared at him, and a dark, angry loathing seemed to wrap itself around Zach. “You will leave in the morning. I’ll give you all the information I have about the location of his lair. You will leave Thano here in our safekeeping while you seek that which will save him.”

  “No. Thano goes with me.” There was no chance he was leaving Thano behind with Rohan.

  But Rohan shook his head. “This is battle, Zachary. You would really bring an unconscious teammate into battle with you? How will you protect him and save yourself at the same time? Have you really lost so much of the knowledge that Dante imparted to you?”

  Anger roiled through Zach and he lunged to his feet. “What do you know about Dante? You betrayed him. Don’t ever mention him. You lost the right to speak his name.”

  Rohan didn’t move, but tension suddenly seemed to echo through his body. “Sit, apprentice. Anger never serves. I would have thought you’d learned that by now. If you want to save Thano, you have one choice, and you know it.”

  There was a nicker of alarm from Apollo. Zach spun around to see the horse staring intently into the woods past the flames. His ears were pricked, his nostrils were flared, and his tail was swishing violently. His muscles were quivering and taut, as if he were ready to bolt at any second.

  Instantly, all the other warriors were on their feet. There was a crack and a flash of black light, and then they were all armed. The warriors all fanned out so they were facing the woods at intervals. Zach moved beside the horse so he could keep Thano at his back. He reached out with his preternatural senses, searching for information his eyes could not glean from the impenetrable darkness.

  A thick, heavy veil of malevolence drifted through his mind and coated his flesh. Apollo shifted restlessly, and Zach held up his hand for silence. The horse went still but he didn’t take his gaze off the woods.

  Then Zach saw a small orange glow on the other side of the moat. It appeared and disappeared so quickly, he almost doubted whether he’d seen it. Except he knew fire, and he knew what he’d seen. It had been a flame about three inches tall hovering in midair. Either it had been in the hand of a warrior he couldn’t see, or someone had projected it into midair.

  No one react. Rohan sent his command telepathically. Let them pass, but be ready.

  Zach’s muscles were taut, ready to attack. But he had no idea what was out there or how many of them. It would be foolish to initiate contact when he didn’t know what he was facing. So he stood there, beside his fallen teammate, waiting.

  He saw another flame flare and disappear. And then another. They were all over the woods, like fireflies on steroids. Son of a bitch. How many were out there? A thousand? Or was it only one, a gifted creator who could generate many different flames? How in the hell was he supposed to take that on when he didn’t have any fire talent anymore?

  The night became dark again, but no one relaxed. Not yet.

  A sudden movement from his right caught
his attention. He spun around just as Thano opened his eyes. They were red. Bright, deadly red. “Thano?” He kept his voice low, only loud enough to carry the short distance to his teammate. “You with me?”

  But even as he asked the question, he saw Thano’s hand flex. There was a sudden, violent burst of hatred, and Thano’s muscles bunched to tear himself free. With one quick move, Zach slammed his sai against the side of Thano’s head. But it didn’t knock him out. Instead, Thano turned to look directly at him. Zach had a split second to realize that the situation had just turned deadly, and then Thano unleashed a scream of murderous rage. The straps binding him broke as he launched himself off Apollo at Zach. There was a flash of black light as his halberd appeared in his hand. He thrust the pronged spear at Zach’s throat, still screaming.

  “Back off,” Zach shouted as he parried Thano’s blow to the side. But as he did so, Thano struck with his second halberd, plunging it deep into Zach’s shoulder. Gasping in pain, Zach saw Thano winding up for a deadly blow with his other spear, and he knew he had no choice. “I’m sorry,” he said as he raised his sai and thrust it straight into Thano’s chest.

  Thano dropped to the earth, twisting violently as he struggled to pull the sai out of his body.

  Zach crouched beside him and grabbed his shoulders. “Thano,” he said urgently. “Come back to me! You’re stronger than this crap! Come on, man—” He gasped as Thano jammed his weapon into Zach’s stomach.

  Rohan suddenly appeared beside him, his sword flashing with blue light. He slammed the flat of the blade against Thano’s head, just as he had with Trevor. Thano screamed in agony and electricity sparked through his body, torqueing him ruthlessly. But even as he writhed in pain, he fought to thrust his halberd into Rohan, trying to kill him with his last breath.

  “Hold him down!” Rohan shouted.

  Zach threw his body over Thano’s torso, using his weight to pin him to the ground. Then he grunted as two other warriors leapt on top of him. Their combined weight was barely enough to keep Thano on the ground, and Zach dug his boots into the earth, trying to hold him down as Rohan tried to grab his hands. Zach realized he was going to bind Thano’s hands as he’d done to Trevor. “No,” he shouted, trying to shoulder Rohan away. “Don’t do it!”

  “It’s his only chance,” Rohan yelled back. “Otherwise we have to kill him. You know that!”

  “Don’t—” Zach grunted as Thano bucked him off, and he flew across the campsite. “Shit!” He leapt to his feet just as Apollo stepped across Thano, two feet on either side of his master. Oh, shit. The horse was going to keep them from getting to him—

  Then, to his surprise, the horse dropped to the ground, using his entire body weight to pin Thano beneath him. Thano grunted, and Zach saw him dig his boots into the ground to push off. For a split second, he was too shocked to react. Thano’s legs had stopped functioning months ago after he’d been abducted by a black magic wizard, and yet he was flexing his muscles and moving them—

  Shit! Thano was mobile! Zach leapt to his feet and launched himself across the campsite. He grabbed Thano’s legs as the other three warriors did the same. The four of them fought to hold on as Rohan went for his hands.

  Zach watched in agony as Rohan wove that same black webbing around Thano’s hands. Within seconds, his hands were no longer visible, trapped in the hell that would doom him. Thano’s halberds fell to the ground beside him, useless appendages that he could no longer use to hurt them or to protect himself. Once secure, Rohan reared back and hit Thano’s head with such a blow that Zach felt the earth tremble beneath him.

  It was only then that his friend finally went still.

  For a moment, none of them moved. All the warriors were still breathing heavily from the effort it had taken to subdue Thano. When sane, Thano was incredibly strong, as strong as all the other Order members. But rogue? He had strength far beyond any of them.

  It was Apollo who moved first. The massive stallion lurched to his feet and carefully stepped across his master. Then he turned and brushed his nose over Thano’s cheek, blowing softly against his skin. Then he turned his head and focused his massive brown eyes on Zach.

  Zach knew what the horse was asking.

  With a low groan, he rolled off Thano’s legs, grimacing at the deep wounds in his shoulder and stomach from Thano’s attack. He would have to spend the next few hours in a healing sleep to recover from them. His own teammate, the one Order member who was a genuinely nice guy, had tried to murder him.

  Only if Thano’s mind was well and truly compromised would he ever have done that. There was none of Thano left. Just the madman.

  Zach propped himself onto his elbow and looked at the face of the youngest Order member. His dark hair was caked in blood and dirt. His face was drawn and peaked, making him look centuries older than the thirty-five years he was. He thought of all the times Thano had pulled the Order from the brink of implosion with a timely wisecrack or some irreverent speech that cut through all the crap that they lived with. Of all the members of the Order, Thano was the good guy.

  He had to live.

  And if José‘s staff gave him the chance for the impossible, to recover from a certain fate from which there was no exit…

  There was no longer a choice to be made. Fire or no fire, he was going after José‘s staff.

  Zach looked over at the horse and nodded once. Apollo raised his upper lip and then snorted his approval. Zach smiled grimly, then felt Rohan watching him.

  He looked up at the older warrior, expecting to feel that same smug smile in his mind. But he didn’t. All he felt was regret and a pain so deep that it was almost unbearable. Then the pain was gone, and he knew Rohan had shielded his emotions again.

  “We will keep Thano safe while you heal,” Rohan said quietly. “When you wake, we will prep you, and then you will go.”

  This time, Zach didn’t argue. The choice was obvious. There was no other way.

  He put his hand on Thano’s leg to keep him close, then surrendered to the healing sleep of the Calydons, hoping, for the thousandth time, that his healing sleep would heal the one thing about him that was truly broken: his fire.

  Because he was going to need it.

  Chapter 7

  The jungle smelled rich with the dampness of fertile soil. The trees were alive with the chatter of birds and the rustle of animals. Rhiannon closed her eyes and breathed deeply as she let the power of her birthplace roll over her and seep into her body. The freshness of the air seemed to cleanse her of all the grime and pollution that had accumulated during her years of living in civilization. She could almost feel her cells coming back to life and embracing the deep nourishment of the land she was meant to live in.

  She went down on one knee and crumbled some dirt between her fingers, watching the rich, brown loam fall back to the earth from which it had come. To her surprise, she felt her throat tighten, and tears burned in her eyes. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed being home. It had been two days since she had left Boston. After much hard traveling, she’d almost reached the region that had once given her life…and then betrayed her.

  A sudden sound broke through her focus and she went utterly still, listening intently. Another sound, quiet yet heavy, came from her right, and she recognized it instantly as the footstep of a creature that was too big to be a human, but could easily be a heavily armed Calydon. Without taking time to stand, she pivoted on her knee as she swept an arrow out of her quiver and pulled her crossbow off her shoulder. In less than a millisecond, she nocked an arrow and pointed it at the cluster of bushes from which the sound had come.

  She knew she was in the open more than she wanted to be, but relocating into the trees would attract more attention than staying completely still. Her mottled brown and green cargo pants and jacket would help her blend into her surroundings. Even her crossbow still retained the colors of the jungle that had once been her home.

  There was silence. No movement followed the steps th
at she had heard, which made her tension rise even further. Whatever it was had become aware of her, and it was waiting for her to move in the same way she was anticipating its next step.

  Penetrating silence prevailed, each trying to outwait the other. The muscles in her arms began to tremble, and she realized how out of shape she was. There had been a time when she had been able to hold her bow at the ready for hours, outwaiting even the most patient of enemies. Now, it had been less than a minute and already her arms were shaking. Her hamstring was cramping from the uncomfortable position she’d frozen in. A trickle of sweat was dripping down her brow, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before it went into her eye. It wasn’t even hot compared to what the jungle often was, but she could feel the steam rising off her body, curling her hair, and dampening her clothes.

  With grim trepidation, she realized she had gone soft. She was in no condition to take on José and think she could walk away. She’d lost to him even when she’d been fit and in her prime. Now? She couldn’t even hold an arrow ready for more than a minute. Her pulse began to hammer in her throat, and she willed it to quiet, knowing that José would be able to hear her heart pounding if he was the one in the bushes.

  Please don’t let it be José. She wasn’t ready to face him yet. If she met him now, she would have no chance. A cold fear gripped her, and her fingers tightened involuntarily around the arrow, even as she fought to stay relaxed. Physical tension would throw off her aim. She had to stay loose.

  Then she caught a scent, drifting to her over the complex smells of the jungle. It was the scent of a man. Not José. A stranger. He smelled of sweat, adrenaline, and something else. A deeper scent that seemed to reach inside her and unfurl in her belly. She instantly recognized her response as attraction. Desire. Lust. Dear God, she wanted this man. Fear gripped her with sudden cruelty, freezing her muscles and obliterating all thought from her mind except for a raw terror that screamed at her to run. Run. Run!

  Her instincts knew she had to stay utterly still, but the fear of her attraction to a man was so deep that she could not make herself stay. Attraction was a trap. Desire could be twisted to hurt her. Lust was a cruel lie. Wanting a man was doom, torture, and a hell she’d never survive.