A Shield of Glass
Page 7
“From what I am reading here, they hid the object and never spoke of it again,” Draven continued. “They passed it through the Master Druid circle, rulers of the twenty kingdoms of Eritopia. Only a Druid leading a kingdom had the willpower needed to hold onto such an object without letting its corruption into their soul. You see, the object emanated with Asherak’s power, his whispers tickling the ears of anyone who spent too much time around it, beckoning them to break the seal and finish the Soul Fusion.”
“The second part?” I replied, wondering whether Azazel could really be this foolish.
“The occupation of a new body. The curse cannot kick the spirit currently occupying the body out of it. But two souls can coexist, instead. They fuse, their powers combining, and thus, Asherak once again has access to Eritopia. It would take the sickest of minds to condone such a plan, but, looking at Azazel and how he’s been able to conquer the entire galaxy, how he’s always one step ahead of us, and how his power oozes out of every spell he does… One can only think the worst.”
“Oh, Draven, you can’t be serious,” Hansa sighed, unable to hide her dismay.
Draven lifted the book for us all to see the drawing of the cursed object Asherak had infused with his soul. My stomach churned as soon as I laid eyes on it, recognizing the loopy eight-form of a snake with red ruby eyes. It was an accurate depiction of the pendant Azazel wore, and it confirmed everything Draven had just said.
“I’m afraid I am,” he replied.
“I saw this on Azazel,” I exhaled sharply. “Phoenix saw it on an elder Master Druid in the past, before he saw Azazel wearing it. That is it… That’s the cursed object.”
“Azazel most likely killed the Master Druid whose turn it had been to safeguard the cursed object, and performed the Soul Fusion.” Draven slowly shook his head.
“So Asherak is back,” Jax concluded.
“Yes. Kind of. Their souls are most likely fused. He’s probably struggling with a split personality, mood swings, and sudden changes in behavior. There are two monstrously evil entities sharing one body. I’m starting to think he needs the volcanoes and the little Daughter’s energy for more than just power. I think he needs them to keep his body from exploding, as I can only imagine the toll it’s taking on him.”
“And the Destroyers?” I wondered whether Asherak’s darkness had something to do with their transformation, as well.
Draven flipped through the pages and nodded.
“Yes, it’s here. It’s called Consumis. It’s a curse,” he replied.
“Of course it is.” Jovi ran his fingers through his hair, unable to hold his frustration in any longer.
“But is it reversible?” I asked.
“It doesn’t say,” Draven said, flipping back to the Soul Fusion pages. “They couldn’t destroy the pendant. They tried every possible spell. It didn’t work. They could only keep it from getting into the wrong hands, which is why they trusted the Master Druids with it.”
“And look where that got them,” Hansa scoffed.
“No one besides the Master Druids knew of its existence, either,” he added. “Azazel really did it. He betrayed the trust of the Master Druids; he betrayed Eritopia and fused his soul to Asherak’s. We have to take that pendant away from him.”
The conclusion resonated with all of us, and was met with a collective nod.
“We can’t just walk up to Azazel and pluck it from his neck,” Jovi replied dryly.
“No, but we can weaken him first,” I mused, my gaze meeting Draven’s. He nodded, as if knowing exactly what I was thinking.
“We shut down his external power sources. We take the little Daughter away from him, to begin with.” He completed my thoughts perfectly. “The fewer boosts he has, the less he can do when we all attack him at once. We’ll have to think this through very carefully, down to the last detail.”
“Nevertheless, one thing is clear,” Jax said as he looked at us both. “We’ve just found a way to defeat Azazel.”
The idea was so foreign, yet so powerful it lit me up from the inside. Draven’s attitude changed, and I felt ribbons of his gold energy pouring into me. There was hope. There was strength. And there were tremendous amounts of determination coming out of him.
I took it all in, allowing his brightness to fill me up and feed my sentry senses as I began to envision the very moment in which we’d take that blasted pendant off Azazel and separate his head from his body.
We were onto something good.
Vita
As soon as Aida’s projection vanished from my room, the double doors burst open and Azazel walked in with a grin, while Damion followed closely behind, his head down in a humble posture. My skin crawled at the mere sight of them, but I had to keep my temper under control until Bijarki got there.
“So! Little Oracle! What does the future tell us?” Azazel asked, his voice booming through the chamber.
I couldn’t risk serving him a flat-out lie, as I wasn’t entirely sure of my ability to sell it. After all, my spurts of fury were much more genuine than my calculated attempts to bend the truth. I feared a monster as powerful and as cunning as Azazel could see right through me, and I didn’t want to end up in a glass bubble so quickly. I’d already crossed him too many times during my short stay here.
I had to tell him something real, without giving away too many details that might get our own people in trouble. I had to wing it as well as I could.
“Are you sure you want to know?” I asked, stalling so I could get my thoughts in order.
He spread his arms outward in a challenging gesture, and I wished I could wipe the smug smile from his face with a hatchet.
“Bring it on, my darling!”
“Ugh.” I rolled my eyes, unable to hide my disgust. “You’re not going to like it, though…”
His grin slowly faded as he bent forward to get a better look at my face, carefully analyzing my expression—as if looking for signs of an incoming lie.
“Now you have me on the edge of my seat, so please, do tell,” he replied, his voice cold enough to freeze my blood.
“You will be defeated. You will die. Eritopia will not have you, Azazel. I’ve seen the world after you were vanquished. You’ll pay with your life for all the crimes you’ve committed,” I told him, trying hard to mask my satisfaction as I watched his expression turn from curious to livid.
His yellow eyes flickered green as he stared at me. I held my ground, unyielding, enjoying his dismay. A moment passed before he scoffed and looked away.
“You’re lying,” he shot back. “I can’t die.”
“I’m telling the truth.”
“Describe the visions, then.” He glared at me.
“You will be killed by a Druid. My visions cannot lie. And while I may have my shortcomings, I am not reckless or foolish enough to make this stuff up. The future has spoken. You will die.”
“Of course you can lie!” Azazel snarled, reaching his boiling point. I held my breath as he pulled his snake pendant up, its little ruby eyes sparkling as it moved slowly in its loops. “You are lying, because I cannot be killed! This here, this will not allow me to die, little Oracle! This here keeps me strong and grants me eternal life! This here, my darling, cannot be broken, nor can its will be bent!”
In his fit of rage, Azazel actually confirmed what I’d already suspected from my visions. That pendant had something to do with his power, and, most importantly, with his defeat.
“I’m not lying,” I insisted, keeping my chin high. “You. Will. Die.”
Azazel roared, rearing back, and shot his fist through a wall. The stone cracked from the impact, dust and broken chunks of limestone falling on the floor. He’d lost his temper, and as terrifying as it was to watch, it gave me some insight into his personality. This version of him was so enraged, so vitriolic, it was nothing like the scheming manipulator I’d known up to this point, the one who pretended to be the forgiving type just to get me to cooperate. This seemed like someone
else entirely, his eyes burning green as the snake trembled in its movement.
He looked up, breathing heavily as he straightened his back.
“You,” he said, pointing a finger at me. “You’re going to be confined to this room on a permanent basis. I was ready to overlook your little slipup with the Lamia, but I cannot forgive your lying. The leg shackle stays on as well. You have one more chance before you end up in a glass bubble, Vita. Next time I come asking for the truth, you had better give me the truth. The whole truth!”
He slithered toward the door.
“I am telling the truth!” I shot back. “You’re just too stubborn to accept it! I saw your pendant in people’s hands; they were passing it around and cheering! I saw them talking about how you were vanquished and dead! You will die, Azazel!”
“Lies!”
True, that last part had been a lie, but his death wasn’t. I stuck to it and kept my chin up high. He shook his head furiously, and deliberately bumped into Damion on his way out.
“She doesn’t leave the room!” he shouted over his shoulder as he disappeared into the hallway.
Silence fell as Damion and I glanced at each other. He frowned, then looked away and left, locking the double doors behind him. I let myself fall backward onto the bed, welcoming the relief. It didn’t matter that the shackle was still on. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t leave the room, either. Bijarki would be here soon, and I’d be reunited with my family and friends.
I’d dealt a heavy blow to Azazel with my visions. I hoped it would keep him busy for the next couple of days, giving me enough time to properly process everything I’d seen of the future. My stomach knotted itself up in painful twists as I thought of Draven and Serena, Jovi and Aida, Bijarki, Anjani, Phoenix, and the Daughter, everyone we had gotten close to.
Whichever way we took things, we still seemed to end up at the same bloody outcome. We would all die. We would lose it all.
Tears came up and made their way down my burning cheeks. I let them flow, afraid I would explode if I held it all in any longer.
The future used to show us Azazel winning. We’d tried our best to change it, but our best seemed to lead us to Draven defeating Azazel and losing his soul in the process, killing the people I loved, the people he’d called his friends and allies.
It was going to take me a while to put all this in perspective and treat it as just another potential future. I had such a hard time getting over the notion of Bijarki and Anjani getting married to unite their people—that thought alone drove daggers into my heart, one after another, relentlessly tearing me apart as I rolled over to one side and cried for hours.
I cried for myself. I cried for Bijarki. I cried for all of us.
When my tears dried out, however, I breathed in and sat up with a new plan coming into focus. While the future was clearly not my friend, I couldn’t let it be my enemy, either. My best chance at preventing that catastrophe was to first understand what that snake pendant was, and what it meant to Azazel and his powers.
Damion, I thought to myself.
I would probe Damion for more information as soon as I saw him again. He had to know something about that necklace.
Jovi
Time passed incredibly slowly in the archive hall. I didn’t have much patience to begin with, and I was obsessively worried about Aida, Anjani, Field, and the others still out there – not to mention Vita, locked up in Azazel’s castle. There was just too much going on beyond Stonewall for me to focus on where the young Druids had last been seen.
Jax and I had been assigned with tracking the young Druids, after Serena reshuffled the tasks so she and Draven could focus on finding concealment spells for the Oracles. I flipped through hundreds of pages, yellow with time, the black ink cracking and the names in those registries forgotten.
I counted the minutes until I’d see Anjani again. Until I’d hold my sister close and keep her safe. Until I’d see my friends again. I could only theorize as to what Phoenix was going through. I tried thinking about what it would be like to lose Anjani, but my heart went into a painful frenzy and I set the notion aside. It hurt too much.
I looked up from yet another registry, letting a long sigh leave my chest as my eyes met Serena’s. She had a half-smile on her face, the kind that expressed sympathy toward my obvious boredom and gratefulness to have me there, and tried to assure me that everything would be okay, somehow.
“Do you think you can check in on them again?” I asked her, unable to shake the thought of my sister out there with Destroyers eager to get her.
Serena nodded slowly, then took out the telepathy spell ingredients, preparing the ritual with calm and steady hand movements. I couldn’t help but admire her composure, given everything that was going on. The Druid was on edge already, so I figured she was doing her best to hold it together mostly for him, rather than for us or herself. The relationship between them had evolved so quickly from our first few days in Eritopia—I didn’t find it surprising, though. Eritopians did have a way of sneaking into one’s heart. Anjani was my best example to date. The concern for her safety had a turbulent effect on my insides, as I sat back and watched Serena call out to Aida.
“Aida, are you there?” Serena asked.
I froze as Aida’s voice echoed through my head. Jax, Hansa, and Draven stilled too, listening in on the conversation.
“Yup, I’m here. Still here,” my sister replied, breathing heavily.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, we’re just a few miles away now. We can see Stonewall on the horizon,” Aida said. “Listen, I’ve got some news from Vita. She managed to free Kyana last night!”
Serena’s expression lit up in response, and she exchanged glances with Draven. The Lamia’s freedom was not only going to bring Tamara joy, but also Patrik, whom we needed incentivized enough to break the spell Azazel had been using to keep him under control. It was, more or less, a question of faith on our end that he would manage to do it—given the circumstances, I would’ve been a fool to say no to a little bit of hope.
“I think she’s probably on her way to Pyros now,” Aida continued.
“Good,” Tamara chimed in. I’d nearly forgotten that the telepathy spell engaged everyone at once, even when we wanted to only reach out to one person. “Thank you, Aida, and please send my gratitude to Vita as well. She’s a tough little thing, and I am honored to be part of the alliance that protects her. I’ve left one of my younglings in Pyros with a message for other Lamias looking to join us. I reckon Kyana will find her there and then head over to Stonewall to meet the rest of us.”
“That’s not all,” Aida added. “Vita’s had more visions of the future, and—”
All of a sudden, it went quiet. The “line” had gone dead.
“Aida?” I called out, cold sweat forming on my brow. “Aida! Are you there?”
Nothing came through. My heart was constricted by an overwhelming sense of dread.
“Maybe the spell failed?” Jax frowned.
“It can’t.” Serena shook her head. “When one member of the telepathy link drops, they all drop. Something must have happened to pull her out of the conversation…”
I stood up, my blood rushing through my veins as worst-case scenarios began flickering through my mind. I couldn’t stand still anymore.
“If something happened, we should go after them,” I said. “She said they could see Stonewall from where they were. That means that if I go out and really focus, I might actually see them from here.”
“I’ll come with you, as will my wards,” Jax interjected, leaving his seat.
“They might need help,” Hansa added, and came by my side.
Serena looked at us and nodded.
“You go. We’ll get some hot water and healing potions ready if they need them,” she said.
I darted out of the archive hall, grabbing my crossbow, quiver, and sword on the way out, as I’d left them by the grand archway to have them handy. Jax followed
, pulling his leather cover over his face and his gloves over his hands, as it was still daylight, and, as an Eritopian version of a vampire, he couldn’t handle the sun.
I heard Hansa’s sword clatter in its large golden scabbard as she walked behind us.
As we traversed the hallway passing through the living quarters and leading into the courtyard, I caught glimpses of the Mara wards emerging from the shadows, one by one, clad in their leather and metal armors and ready to fight. One of the Bajangs used his blood to let us out of the cloaking spell and we rushed toward the front steps of the citadel.
I started speeding up as I saw the green meadow unraveling ahead, beyond Stonewall. My determination grew stronger with each second that passed. Whatever was coming after my sister and friends, whether incubi or Destroyers or shape-shifters, they didn’t stand a chance against a Shadian.
Jovi
The horses were waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs. I jumped onto my indigo stallion and looked out to the west, focusing until I could see Aida and the others coming out of the distant woods as at least two dozen Destroyers came flying above.
“Over there!” I shouted at Jax and Hansa, and kicked my horse into motion.
We rode out, the hooves thundering beneath us as we crossed the tall-grassed meadow and got closer to the group. The Destroyers had begun circling them at a lower altitude, like carrion-birds ready to dive in and strip the flesh off their bones.
My stomach tightened as I extended my crossbow arm and pointed it at one of the beasts, but I needed at least fifty more feet to get a shot. I could see Aida, Field, and Phoenix in the middle, with Eva, Anjani, Aura, and Almandine forming a wider circle, accompanied by the six mutated shifters. The creatures’ eyes glowed peculiarly violet, reminding me of the Daughter, and they growled and snapped their fangs at the slithering beasts atop flying horses.
The Destroyers were gradually closing in on them as the group huddled closer together, their weapons drawn. They needed a distraction, a short window of time for them to use the shifters against the Destroyers, like they did before.