Beyond the Black Door

by A. M. Strickland

  “Are you all right?” I asked, my fear switching targets now that I was no longer in immediate danger. “How are you and Zeniri … and Nikha?” My breath caught on her name.

  “I haven’t seen Nikha since you last did, and Zeniri and I are imprisoned in the royal dungeons,” she said, businesslike. “Now tell me how you got here, and who it is you serve.”

  “I came In Between, from my own soul, and—”

  “No one travels In Between,” she interrupted. “The way is too dangerous, especially of late.”

  “This was a special occasion,” I snapped. If she was going to question every word I said, this would take too much time. “And, in case you were wondering, I serve the Keepers and the earth, and right now, the safety of everyone depends on you giving me some answers.” I bent forward and took her hands. She tried to pull away, but I held tight. “I swear on my mother’s spirit, on mine, I am telling you the truth.”

  Lenara opened her mouth and then hesitated. “All right,” she said eventually. “Don’t make me regret this, or I swear on my spirit, my body, and my soul that you will regret it.” Her eyes were hard.

  I swallowed and straightened. “Fair enough.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “If a spirit wants to possess an already strong soul without destroying it or killing the person it belongs to, how would they manage it?”

  Her eyes narrowed a fraction, her gaze growing even more intense. She clearly didn’t like the nature of my question. “There are ways to surrender your soul, or to lose it.”

  “How?” I pressed.

  “By killing, among other things. It damages a soul without destroying it. Weakens it. It would take a powerful soulwalker, or—”

  “Is killing a particular person worse for a soul?” I asked, interrupting. “Say, a son killing a father?”

  “Yes, definitely.”

  I took a deep breath. “Razim is the king’s son. He’s the heir. That’s what my mother discovered. Before she could tell you or the Keepers, the Twilighters had her killed.”

  Lenara’s mouth fell open. She stared at me for a long moment, the light of her intellect practically whirling behind her eyes. A shadow seemed to fall across her face then, as she realized. “And you’re concerned about Razim’s soul? Far, far worse things would befall us if the heir kills the king.”

  “The bond with Ranta will break?” I guessed. She nodded, and I was unable to restrain myself. “But you said that even if the king dies, it would remain intact! Because Razim is the king’s son, it’s a different story?”

  “Of course! The heir killing his father to take by force what should have been rightfully granted would most definitely destroy the sacredness of the bond! Ranta would turn her back on humanity, and leave herself open to attack, rather than honor such a vow.”

  “But how is she open to attack?”

  “Tain made a guardian of the first human king of Eopia—the first king in all the world—a status that remains with each new king so long as he’s married to Ranta. With the king filling such a role, there’s too much light and strength between humanity and the earth for Darkness to get between them—the same purpose the Guardian Constellations serve for Heshara.”

  Tain’s fiery, exacting gaze flashed in my mind’s eye, along with Heshara’s mysterious smile. “Right. I’ve heard that Heshara might have left Tain if not for those guardians.”

  “Who told you that?” Lenara asked, suspicion ringing in her tone. “That’s not a widely acknowledged—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I interrupted. I wasn’t about to tell her it was Vehyn. “So, what if the situation I was asking about earlier, about a spirit possessing another’s soul, is actually Darkness wanting to enter Razim after he kills his father and becomes king?”

  Lenara’s eyes shot wider than ever, but her voice was curiously quiet. “Darkness would inherit the earth. Consume the land. Cover the sky. Cut off Ranta entirely from her parents’ light.”

  “Yes, well, that’s the Twilight Guild’s plan.” My jaw locked, not wanting to say what had to come next. I forced the words through my teeth. “And they let Darkness into my soul the day I was born, so he’s been biding his time inside of me—his name is Vehyn—behind the protections my mother built, waiting until Razim kills the king.”

  Lenara went absolutely still, staring into the distance. “Vehyn,” she murmured. “It means face, sometimes mask, in the old tongue.” Her eyes snapped back to me. “Your mother’s protections? Are they still in place?”

  “She never told me about any of this, and I don’t think even she fully understood what was wrong with me, but all I knew was that this black door followed me around, and I opened it when I was seventeen.” The truth spilled out of me in a torrent. Maybe if I said it fast enough, admitting everything wouldn’t be so terrible. “Now there are all of these black doors in Razim’s soul, ready to open, and—”

  Before I could blink, Lenara launched into motion. A gleaming sword, shining brightly in the light of her soul, was in her hand. I didn’t try to raise my knife to block her. I didn’t want to, and besides, I didn’t have time before she struck. She stabbed the blade right into my heart.

  Or in the direction of it. The sword didn’t strike true, because the tip bounced off my breastbone in a burst of black swirls. I staggered back, more from the shock than the blow, and fell against the wall.

  If a soulwalker died in the sleeping realm, they died in the waking world too. Lenara had just tried to kill me. Understandably, perhaps. But it didn’t make it any easier to face.

  “I tried that already,” I said, my voice shaking, one hand braced on the wall for balance. With the other, I rubbed my chest reflexively, even though it didn’t hurt.

  Lenara stood panting, sword in hand, staring at me with wild eyes. She finally lowered the blade. “Then we must try something else. Kamai, this is bigger than anything the world has ever seen. More important than your life or mine. This is why the Keepers exist, to prevent this.”

  “I know, and I’m going to try to stop it. I promise. And you’ve helped. You’ve given me the answers I need to”—I couldn’t tell her about my “game” with Vehyn; she would probably try to stab me again—“to get the upper hand.”

  “Are you going to cut off this Vehyn’s power, inside of you?”

  I blinked. “Can I?”

  “It has to come from somewhere. It doesn’t exist in your soul. You are—”

  “A doorway,” I interrupted. Even Vehyn had admitted as much. “You’re right.”

  And suddenly I knew where I needed to go.

  But before I could summon the black door, or sneak into my own soul by another path to avoid Vehyn, it appeared under my hand on the wall. The door was open. I lost my balance and toppled inside.

  Right into Vehyn’s arms.

  30

  DEEP WOUNDS

  Vehyn wasn’t gentle as he dragged me fully inside the black door. He waved his hand and the door slammed, shutting out Lenara, her horrified expression, and the light of her soul, leaving me in the darkness of my own. With Darkness.

  “The door won’t be opening again, not even for you,” Vehyn said, his voice low and deadly. “I can’t believe you did something so idiotic. I could have lost you In Between.”

  “Why do you care?” I gasped as he hauled me into the great entry hall. The lamps were bright red, no patterns or cool indigo to soften them, like glaring, angry eyes against the blackness of the cavernous space. Probably reflecting Vehyn’s mood.

  He stopped, whipping me around to face him. For the first time in a long while, I felt his strength and how it could be used against me. I was like a rag doll in his grip. “Why do I care? Are you being deliberately obtuse again?”

  Of course he would care. If my spirit was lost, my body would die, and if my body died, so would my soul. His lovely fortress. All his plans. I realized I probably should have fed myself to the spirit eater … but then I remembered it would have
taken a “short eternity” for my spirit to die. My body might eventually waste away, collapsing my soul, but there could still be plenty of time for Vehyn to jump safely into Razim, his plans fulfilled—kings killed, bonds broken, candles snuffed.

  So perhaps he cared for a different reason. But I couldn’t allow myself to think about that. “Let me go.”

  With another brief shake, he did. He was obviously trying to get his anger under control. The redness of the lamps dimmed around us. The cold fury in his black eyes faded too, until they were merely sharp. Fondly irritated. Worriedly frustrated.

  Why did he have to look at me like that, now of all times? His anger would have been easier.

  “I know the truth,” I whispered. And I told him about the nature of Ranta’s bond, the precise way it would break, and the exact way he would overtake Razim’s soul. “And you’ll become king,” I finished.

  He stared at me for a long moment. His gaze was definitely, absolutely no longer fond. “So what happens if I become king and the bond is broken?”

  He knew I didn’t want to say it, and so he was forcing me to. To lose something, even as I won our game. It was the dark truth I had been afraid of ever since he’d told me who he was, and what Lenara had just confirmed. The full consequence of what I had done in opening the black door.

  “You would snuff out the candle,” I whispered. “The world’s light.”

  “Don’t look so horrified. We share the same dreams, Kamai. You’ve been there with me, in a world consumed by darkness, and you felt bliss at my side.” He briefly closed his eyes on the word, as if savoring the memory. His eyes snapped open. “You know, I think this worked out for the better. I would have preferred sharing a soul with you over Razim, given the choice, and now I’ll never have to put up with him. When the time comes, I’ll simply take everything from him. I’ll pick up the pieces of his shattered soul, remake it as mine, and then force his spirit out of his body. He won’t be able to fight back, without a soul.” He dusted his hands against each other. “No more Razim.”

  I didn’t want to hear this, because it wasn’t going to happen. “You won’t, because I wo—”

  He cut me off. “The bond with Ranta will be broken and eternal night will cover the earth, but you and I will be forever bound, with all of those black doors stitching your soul to mine, an unbreakable thread. You’ll be my dark queen, in place of Ranta.” He raised his hand to cup my cheek, but I shied away. “We will be the new gods, Kamai. The earth will be ours.”

  I shook my head, taking a step back into the vast hall. “You can’t do this.”

  Vehyn followed me. “You belong with me, in my world.”

  “I don’t.”

  “You always have. You just won’t admit the truth.”

  “Will admitting it get you to stop?”

  “If you truly believe it, why would you want me to stop?”

  “Because I’m not a selfish bastard like you are.”

  His smile, this time, was less confident, less cocky. “Whatever lies you wish to tell yourself.”

  I halted, realizing I’d been retreating during our exchange, with him pursuing me—a slow chase, like the one we’d been on my entire life. It was time to stop running. From him. From the truth.

  “You’re right,” I said.

  His smile grew—more genuine, more confident. “Say it.”

  “I belong with you.” And I meant it. “We share the same soul, the same dreams. If you become king, I will be your queen. I’m yours.”

  He stepped right up to me, lifting my chin with a gentle hand. I let him, tipping my head back to receive his kiss.

  At the last second, I turned my face aside, clutched him hard around the neck with one hand, and whispered in his ear, “But you’re also mine, because I win. And you’re not going to be king.”

  And then I stabbed him with my mother’s knife, thrusting it as hard as I could up under his ribs, pulling him into it at the same time. The blade bit deep for its size. Nikha had taught me well. It was a death blow, not that I assumed anything could be strong enough to actually kill Vehyn. Not even this knife, which seemed to be able to cut Darkness when nothing else could.

  With a cry, he staggered backward, his hands clutched to his breast. I didn’t feel like I’d won as I looked at him. It wasn’t red liquid that seeped between his fingers, but black shadow.

  His eyes were pained as they rose from the wound and focused on me, his breath coming in short gasps. “You … would betray me … like this? Did you ever really feel … for me … what it seemed?”

  He knew I had, since he’d felt it as we’d dreamed together. Still … “It’s all a game, remember? You did the same to me. Made me believe you felt something, just to manipulate me.”

  “Was that all it was?” he growled, in anger and pain. “Were my feelings only false? I’ve told you … I rarely speak falsehoods.”

  I needed to start moving, but my feet were rooted. I was furious at him for everything he’d done, even more so because he was breaking my heart. “You wear this mask and give me roses, when this isn’t you!” I shouted, my voice cracking. “The real you is Darkness. The real you is the one who stole my soul, and Razim’s family, and now wishes to take over the world with trickery and murder. You’re false.” I jerked my hand at him violently, tears overflowing onto my cheeks. “This is a lie!”

  Maybe if it was, this would be easier.

  “Perhaps,” Vehyn gasped. “But how I feel about you isn’t.”

  “Why not? If this is all just a game to you, you shouldn’t feel anything for me.”

  “I can’t … I can’t help it.” His words were small in the dark. He seemed small in the vast space, his shoulders hunched, arms clutching himself.

  “You’ve been in this form for too long,” I said. “Eighteen years. You’re as old as I am, really. This mask, this card played by Darkness, made to look human, to act human—it’s more than a mask or an act now. This is more than a game for you.”

  “I … I’ve never felt like this before,” he said, looking down at his shadow-bloodied hands. “I’ve never felt at all, until now.”

  “So don’t do this,” I said, my voice pleading. “Help me.”

  He looked back up at me. “I can’t, Kamai.”

  “You can!”

  I saw a flash of fear in his eyes for what had to be the first time. “If I act abnormally … then I might … it might … take me back. Reclaim me. I would be lost in the greater night. Gone.”

  “Then leave the Darkness. Break away. Let the mask be your true self.” I laughed desperately, fighting tears. “You could truly be Moholos, helping Heshara, sometimes getting up to mischief … but nothing worse. Nothing like this.”

  “And give up the source of my power? If I sever this part of me, I would be no more than a shell of my former self. A hand without an arm or body.” He shook his head, wincing, but it seemed the idea pained him more than his wound. “Never.”

  “Why don’t I help you do it, then?” My words were quiet, and I took another step back.

  “You can’t. You won’t,” he said, trying to reclaim some of his old authority, his surety. “You belong to—”

  “You serve me now,” I said, my voice commanding. “I won our game. Stay here.”

  Vehyn shuddered. He looked down at his legs, which seemed rooted to the ground … but then he took a slow, lurching step toward me. “I can’t. If you try to control me, Darkness will—”

  “Stay here,” I repeated, my words ruthless, even though my voice broke.

  Black spirals shot out over his pale skin, like I had seen on my own so many times. The power of Darkness, to counteract the strength of our binding oath. Vehyn threw back his head and screamed. It was pain and fear … and rage. His eyes were completely black when he looked at me.

  “Run, Kamai,” he hissed. He was still in there, somewhere, if he was warning me. And he didn’t need to tell me twice.

  “It’s down the stairs, isn�
�t it?” I asked, breathless, backing away.

  His head jerked, as if he wanted to nod, but something was preventing him. He stumbled toward me. Despite his unsteadiness, he was still faster than I expected. His hand latched on to my wrist as I tried to dance away, the strength of his fingers grinding into my bones.

  I stabbed him again, in the arm. At the give of his flesh against the blade, and his scream, I felt a stab of a different sort, deep in my chest, up under my own ribs. My heart cracking in two. But I ignored the pain as his grip came loose. He knocked the knife out of my hand, sending it spinning into the shadows, but I didn’t go after it. I turned and ran.

  Vehyn’s ragged voice followed me, echoing off the impossibly high walls, his cry rising to the darkness above, to the ceiling I couldn’t see, if there even was one. But I was headed for the endless darkness below.

  “Kamai!”

  I ignored him. I reached the wide spiral staircase in the center of the great hall, both rising and dropping into oblivion. The deepest of wounds, piercing straight through my soul. I hesitated only for a second, fetching up against the banister, before I shoved my terror away and started down the stairs as fast as my feet could carry me. I didn’t turn, but I could hear Vehyn’s footsteps behind me. They were slower, labored, but they were still coming.

  The darkness thickened the deeper I went. There were no lamps down here.

  “Kamai, stop!” His voice was different, harsh. Darkness had control of him. And yet not completely. My own command still had an effect upon him, or else he would have been fast enough to catch me already. A cosmic force was waging war against the strength of our promise, and Vehyn’s spirit was both the battleground and the spoils.

  But hopefully not for long. I would free him from Darkness. I would free the both of us.

  Soon, I couldn’t see at all. Only blackness surrounded me. I slipped on a slick step, careening into the banister that I was using as a guide, but I didn’t let that stop me, turning my sliding fall back into a mad dash. I just couldn’t let myself tip over the side. Both the drop and the winding stairs themselves were supposedly bottomless, the place where the Darkness had burrowed deepest, affecting my soul the most drastically, and yet … this was still my soul. Maybe I could change it, make these steps lead me to where I needed to go.