Blood for the Dancer

by Dallas Mullican

  “Let’s get out of here,” shouted Dustan.

  They scrambled onto Lailah’s back and took flight, the clearing below growing small beneath their ascent. The umbra apes gathered below them, a din of jabber, stomping and slapping the ground. Before relief could settle in, they climbed to altitude and found a pair of Slayers waiting. The expense of energy from Kyra’s blast must have alerted them. Lailah swooped toward the cliffs, trying to lose them in the crags. They were good, staying close on her rear. Lances of fire singed her tail and Kyra’s back. When she could not outrun them, she turned to fight.

  “If we use orbs, it will bring more. The fire alone may alert them,” shouted Kyra.

  “I’m open to suggestions.” Dustan glared at the Slayers. They needed to get them on the ground. “Lailah, take them down there. Get us inside that pass, and they’ll have to land.”

  Lailah tucked her head, drew her wings in tight, and plummeted toward a natural tunnel burrowed by the wind over eons. A hundred yards long, it appeared no more than twelve to fourteen feet high, enough to ground the demons. Lailah landed in the center of the passage. The Slayers hesitated, landed at one end, and galloped toward them.

  Dustan and Kyra were on their feet, weapons readied. Lailah shifted to a barghest—a dog as large as the steeds, but with the advantage of finger-long teeth. The umbra steeds’ eyes went wild at the sight of the beast. They threw their riders, stampeded to the end of the tunnel, and flew off.

  “Looks like you lost your rides,” said Dustan with a smirk. “Well, come on then.”

  Both Slayers carried two-handed longswords, which they flourished in their menacing advance. Dustan and Kyra braced for combat, but never got the chance. Lailah stormed ahead to meet the demon warriors. It was over in seconds. Twin bursts colored the tunnel in red.

  “You’re handy to have around, you know?” Dustan smiled at the huge dog. Lailah licked him on the face with a tongue as long as his arm. “Okay, okay.”

  Kyra chuckled as Lailah resumed her umbra steed form. They evaded another squad of Slayers before finally making the border. A stark contrast. The terrain shifted to ice and snow—beautiful from above, but deadly on the surface. Lailah morphed to a gryphon in order to blend with the Hunters. They made it to the city’s outer perimeter before spotting a patrol. Lailah took them down and landed on the far side of a vast canyon framed in glacial frost. High walls circled the gorge with pillars interspersed across the open floor. In the distance, crystal spires stabbed the sky, showered in diamond dust. The onyx towers of the Horde still shone faintly in the distance. The sights struck a familiar chord in Dustan’s mind.

  “I’ve seen this before.” He rubbed his eyes as though trying to wipe the memory from his thoughts.

  “Best get started,” said Kyra.

  Dustan glanced a Lailah. “Isn’t there some creature you can morph into? Get us across faster?”

  “Many creatures live farther out from the city, large and small, but none could get us close without notice.” Kyra adjusted her daggers and shrugged.

  “So nothing lives here?”

  “Nothing big enough to carry us,” said Kyra. “Wolfdragons live at the realm’s edge. Demons capture them and use them for transport and as weapons. The angels find them distasteful and kill them if they encroach the perimeter. They prefer the nandi—the two-headed bears. Either way, we would be taken or killed.”

  Only then did they realize Lailah had not answered. She pushed back against the shelf and hunched on her heels, shaking. Dustan and Kyra rushed to her side.

  “What’s wrong? Are you all right?” asked Kyra, stroking the changeling’s back.

  “Memories,” she said with a tear tracing down her cheek.

  “Will you tell us?” asked Dustan. “It might help to talk about it. We have lost much as well.”

  She offered a sad smile. “I did not tell you the truth before. When my kin fled the south, I did go with them. Our encounters had been limited to the Horde, and we hoped the angels might allow us to live in their domain in peace.”

  Lailah stood and paced across the glassy surface. Her eyes stared into the distance, flitting across the canyon as though seeing events of the past relived. Dustan and Kyra remained silent, allowing her the time she needed to collect her thoughts and wade through the torrent of painful emotions.

  She sighed. “A sizeable force met us here.” Lailah glanced around. “Or another frozen waste. They all look the same. We pleaded with them and promised not to encroach on their city. We would keep to ourselves and remain out of the war. They knew our kind and the advantage our allegiance would have. The angels, as the demons had, attempted to force us to join their ranks. We refused and the subsequent battle rivaled a clash of the angels and demons’ entire armies. My kin fought bravely, but were overwhelmed. So many cut down. I saw the fight was lost and ran.”

  Though she was older than Dustan could imagine, the grief and sorrow on the little girl face broke him. He cradled her in his arms while she wept. They camped, freezing without a fire, and waited until she was ready. Lailah huddled between them, her eyes vacant. When she rested, nightmares cursed her sleep as she thrashed and screamed. Dustan held her tight, fearing she might hurt herself. For two days, she huddled between them, sleeping for long periods. On the third day, she stood and thanked them. Dustan smiled when she threw back her shoulders, pressed her lips tight, and assured them she could continue.

  They trekked across the tundra, keeping close to the walls. They encountered several burrows in cliffs and holes in the ice, but saw no creatures. The Hunters’ patrols remained farther out from the city, so they didn’t need to hide, though, if they came this way, there was little cover. The canyon, barren of structures, spread out like a god’s palm—deep creases snaking along the floor, webbed fingers closing them in. A line of hills rose at the far end of the ravine. Dustan remembered the place from his dream.

  “There’s a ledge on the other side. It rounds a drop-off as steep as the one at the temple before reaching a tunnel. The entrance is a giant bear head.”

  Kyra glanced at him, eyebrows raised. “Perhaps we don’t need Hadraniel’s knowledge.”

  “It’s so clear, like it really happened. I remember the smell of the snow and the fear tugging at my gut as I slid along that ledge.” He shook his head, disbelieving.

  “Let’s see if you’re right.”

  They topped the rise to find Dustan’s prophecy accurate. The realization dizzied his mind. After all the adjustments his spirit half required, this struck him as the most profound. It seemed mundane compared to wolfdragons and umbra steeds, but somehow, knowing what awaited in any small measure terrified him. The horrible vision Hadraniel had shown him crawled through his thoughts. The reality of it, the death and enslavement of millions upon millions, hammered into his heart. He sagged to a knee.

  “Are you all right?” Kyra placed a hand on his shoulder. Lailah stepped near, looking on with concern.

  “I’m fine. Just a lot to take in.” He shook his head. “Let’s keep moving.”

  They wound their way beneath the ice shelf, the arm-length icicles biting down with glistening teeth. Halfway across, the ledge shattered under their weight. Kyra fell and slid toward the sheer drop. Dustan lunged, landing on his belly, and grabbed her wrist. She drew a dagger and slammed it into the ice, legs kicking at the open air, debris raining down to the gorge miles below. He pulled her to safety and held her until their shaking stopped. From then on, they widened their distance apart to reduce the load concentrated in one area.

  The great bear head yawned at them as they reached the end of the precipice. Dustan’s pace had quickened since descending the hill and an urgency gnawed at his belly. All he recalled from here was the tunnel and an expanse leading to the blue-white wall where beyond lay the In Between. Neither the angels nor the demons had found the secreted realm, so he assumed his vision omitted much of the terrain.

  “Where do you think we are?” he asked Kyra.<
br />
  “Beneath the city. There are a myriad of tunnels crisscrossing the subterranean regions. Many constructed by the angels, but some, like this one, burrowed out by creatures long extinct.”

  The tunnel was much wider than any wolfdragon he had seen. He tried to fathom the size of such a creature—at least fifty yards across and no guessing how long. He sighed, relieved it was extinct.

  Some way into the passage, a gate fashioned of metal rods stood inset to their left. Dustan glanced to Kyra who nodded. He shoved, and the gate groaned open into a long corridor that stretched out of sight in a near-straight line. Indentions along the walls suggested more hallways, or perhaps rooms, farther down. They tried a few as they passed, but the doors were either locked or welded shut by age and disuse.

  “What’s the purpose of so many tunnels under the city?” asked Dustan.

  “Hadraniel said this was once a city unto itself. Eons of snow and ice covered it, and a new one was built above. The angels maintained the passages for a while, but grew uninterested, seeing no need.”

  Dustan peered at Lailah. Since relaying the story of her kin, she had not spoken more than a handful of words. Only natural, he assumed, the memories ran thick here, and she had not left the vale in thousands of years. This must seem a haunted ancient world after so much time.

  “Funny,” said Dustan. “All the snow and ice, yet I’ve never seen any fall. I haven’t seen any weather other than a drizzle in the south.”

  “Another side effect of the war, everything’s thrown out of kilter. There are storms from time to time. They rise in the outer rim and grow stronger as they pass across the realm.” Kyra’s fingers danced lightly over her daggers. “Angels and demons alike have much to answer for.”

  The gate where they entered the corridor lay out of sight behind them. Farther up, the hallway split into a T.

  “Which way?” asked Dustan.

  “Left, I think. We need to find a way up into the city. The hilt is kept in the central spire,” replied Kyra.

  “I hope you have a plan for waltzing through the city and climbing their main building.” He gave her a questioning glance.

  “Play it by ear?” She grinned.

  Dustan huffed and pivoted into the left channel. Up ahead, a door creaked open and an eerie glow flooded the hallway. Dustan and Kyra drew their weapons with Lailah bracing as if she would dart in the opposite direction. A long shadow crept into the corridor, a misshapen silhouette with long gangly arms and legs and an amorphous head that shifted with the shadow’s movement. Dustan summoned Blood Dancer to life and brought the sword up in a two-handed grip. Kyra twirled her daggers now pulsing with energy.

  The spectral figure continued to elongate. This angel…creature…must be immense. Dustan clenched his teeth. They could run, but unless they wanted to mosey right up to the city walls and knock, the tunnels remained the best way in. Nothing for it, they would have to fight their way past whatever this thing turned out to be.

  A man stepped into the hallway, the shadow melting behind him, and stared right at Dustan. “Son. You’ve finally come.”

  “Da?” Tears flowed down his face, freezing on his cheeks. He wanted to rush forward, but his legs would not move.

  His father turned and extended his hand back into the corridor. He walked toward Dustan hand-in-hand with Ava. Dustan fell to his knees, racking sobs tearing through his body.

  27

  Above and Below

  “What is this place?” Dustan followed his father and mother deep under the Host’s domain. Close behind them, Kyra kept one hand near a dagger like a gunslinger, suspicious of every movement, while Lailah ambled along with her eyes down, playing the innocent.

  “The City Beneath the City,” said his father.

  He and Mum looked like coat racks with robes tossed over them, gaunt cheeks and dull eyes, their bones showing under thin skin. His parents led them to a vast city far below ground level. Buildings encased in ice displayed open windows and doors checkered across their faces, large portions of the structures obscured by frozen rock. Streets meandered through the cavern in no discernable design. A domed ceiling of glittering ice veined in trickling azure streams arched hundreds of feet overhead. Cyan-tinged spirits ambled throughout the city in their millions, all appearing as emaciated as his parents. They spoke to each other in hushed tones as if someone might overhear. Their shabby robes, uniformly insipid gray, reflected somber moods, the colorless world lacking any hint of cheer or hope.

  “You are all unaligned? I dreaded you and mum would be angels.” Dustan touched them, verifying their reality.

  After meeting them in the corridor, they hugged each other close and cried. Kyra gave them space, looking on. Lailah, still uncomfortable being away from her home and made more so by the unfamiliar spirits, hung well back. After a few hours, they called Kyra daughter and Lailah had integrated herself as an adopted child.

  “Yeah. It didn’t take long to figure what this place was like. With no training at all, they forced us right into battle,” said Dustan’s father.

  “We hid as much as possible. It was easy to get lost among all the soldiers and chaos and find a nook or trench.” His mother had tried to maintain a smile since first meeting, but the curve of her mouth faltered into a disconcerting purse of her lips.

  “Ava turned first. Scared me witless they would discover her. My own allegiance changed not long after.” His father drew a hand over his head as if attempting to rub the tint away.

  “We ran during one large battle. With so much confusion, we were able to slip past the perimeter. We wandered across the tundra for weeks before Jophiel found us. She’s the leader of this place…if there is one. Nowhere to lead us.” His mother’s smile completely fell away to join the sorrow in her eyes.

  “You led me here didn’t you? In my dreams?” Dustan assumed the truth, but the method eluded him.

  “Tried to. Our bond as father and son allowed me to feel you when you entered the realm. I came to you the first time when you roamed the Moat to warn you the demons hunted you. You needed to know the In Between waited and not to fear it. But I didn’t have the strength. I couldn’t speak to you.” His father’s eyes dropped to the frost-covered street. “I found you again, with Hadraniel’s help and guided you to him. Even then, I wasn’t powerful enough to tell you all that was in my heart.” A tear fell from his eye.

  Dustan put an arm around him. “You did all you could. We would not have made it safely into the city without your help.” He peered at his parents, each in turn. “We need to get into the central tower.”

  His mother gasped. “No, son. It’s not possible. Zaphkiel himself keeps chambers there.”

  “I know,” said Kyra. “It is his chamber I need to find.”

  “Hadraniel warned me your arrival wouldn’t be a simple family reunion.”

  His mother shot her husband a questioning glance. “What do you mean? What’s this all about?”

  His father placed his hands on her shoulders. “Darling, the war’s spreading. Soon it’ll breach the In Between, and eventually all the realms’ll fall. Hadraniel suggested something even more terrible may be inevitable, though he won’t be specific.”

  “Kyra’s the only hope, and I have to see her safely through,” said Dustan. His tone made clear there was nothing to debate.

  His mother nodded and leaned into his father.

  “Your mum’s right, though. We have ears here, friends in the city above. Word of the blade’s theft is all over the realm. Aamon didn’t take you seriously before. Now, he’s filled in Zaphkiel, and the angels expect you. They’ve prepared, and won’t easily give up their prize.

  “He’s communicating with Zaphkiel?” Dustan stared at his father.

  “I told you, the knife is a greater threat to their reigns than each other.” Kyra stepped close and took his hand. “They will do whatever it takes to stop us.”

  “But there’s no way into Zaphkiel’s chambers without exposing
yourselves to the city. You would never make it inside the central spire,” said his mother.

  “There is a way.” Kyra drew a parchment from her jacket. “Hadraniel, long ago, before he became an angelic general or unaligned, served as a page to the High Commander—a leader who gained rule through politics and by removing his rivals rather than power and strength. A cowardly angel in Hadraniel’s opinion.”

  Dustan’s father led them to a massive edifice in the center of the city that towered over the other buildings in ominous gray and white. Dustan imagined the grandeur of the place before eons of neglect marred its elaborate design. Traces of master craftsmanship still showed in the columns and trim, the marble floors etched in intricate patterns.

  After they took seats around a large rectangular table of scarred, black wood, Kyra continued. “Though it was ages ago, the demons did invade the Host’s city once. The High Commander panicked and attempted to escape. A secret passage somewhere in his chambers led around the spire, behind the walls, and into the tunnels. Hadraniel said the passage is sealed from the lowest level with a rune door.”

  “What’s a rune door?” Dustan peered at her from his seat across the table.

  “The archangels managed to decipher a few of the ancient glyphs—locks. They placed them on doors, gates, and stores they don’t want anyone to open,” said Kyra.

  “This gets better and better.” Dustan huffed and pounded his hand on the table. “How do we get past that?”

  “I know the place—a door with strange symbols,” said his father. “It’s hidden in the corridor above. But the door’s not the only problem…a pair of nandi, huge two-headed bears, guard the entrance. Largest bastards I’ve seen.” He shivered at the thought.

  “Wonderful,” said Dustan with a sigh. “So a couple of these enormous nandi and a door we can’t open.”