by S. E. Akers
I raced down to the library and spiraled up the staircase to the third level. The book I needed was sitting in its usual spot, practically screaming to be snatched up. I tore straight to the end of the section and found the exact passage that confirmed all of my suspicions.
I closed the book slowly, wedged it back into the empty spot, and then fell against the bookcase in a daze. Silas wasn’t a Darklands creature. He was a faery, an elemental Veil being that had been stripped of its essence and banished to The Darklands for eternity, and somehow he’d escaped its hell and crossed over into this realm. The only way a faery could exist here unlinked to their assigned being and still keep their powers was if they claimed the body of a human on their deathbed. The shelter of a human vessel not only granted them an earthly safe-haven, but it offered the fallen faeries complete protection from the dire effects of their two weaknesses: lemons and iron. I would have never figured out what Silas was based on that alone, especially after the amount of the energy-draining metal he’d hand-delivered all summer. Then again, that relentless nosiness of his (which faeries were also known for) should have had my “A-ha” bells ringing like a daggone fire alarm. But despite the advantages of their human vessels, these fallen faeries weren’t without their limitations in this realm. They didn’t have the freedom to come-and-go like their mystical Veil siblings, not without the privileges their Guardian-granted essences afforded them. Here, these fallen faeries’ powers were bound and could only be wielded by the hands of the human masters who claimed them. And in this world, they were known as Djinns.
I shook my head, still amazed by my discovery. All this time and right under my nose… Silas is a daggone Genie!
I headed back up to my bedroom feeling a myriad of emotions — proud that I’d finally figured it out, very much bowled over from my discovery, and downright sad about his banishment. Why did he reveal himself and exactly what had he done? As much as I wanted to get all the scoop, I wasn’t touching that one with a ten-foot pole. If he wanted me to know, he would tell me. And then again, maybe he couldn’t? So after putting those questions to bed, I was left with only one dilemma: trying to figure out the perfect time, place, and manner in which to let the cat out of the bag. I could go with a direct approach by providing him with that “educated guess” he required. Or, I could opt for a more subtle delivery and casually slip it into the conversation. But then again, running back down to the computer and searching for some kitschy Genie-themed knickknack on Amazon and having it shipped to him with a card that read “BUSTED” sounded really tempting too. Of course I didn’t know which he would prefer — a lamp or bottle. Heaven forbid I offended his discriminating rear by making the wrong choice. I ended up going with my gut and decided to sleep on it, that is, if I returned from The Darklands in one-piece. Though I did jot down a quick message on a pad and laid it on my nightstand as I was climbing into bed, confirming my discovery. I figured if I didn’t make it back, at least he could find a little humor in knowing that he was right about my need-to-know before I kicked it. And above all, I would still get in my coveted “last word”. That was the most important thing.
I may have gone a bit overboard, but if I’d learned anything from the house steward this summer it was this one simple truth: if you’re going to be an ass, you may as well go all-in. I figured he would respect it.
It wasn’t long after I’d nodded off that I began sensing a shift in my landscape. Though I wasn’t sure if it was actually the call of The Darklands or simply a random dream. My eyelids twitched with apprehension, but I was too nervous to open them. Instead, I took a deep breath to end my doubts. The brimstone-laced air tickled my nostrils before plunging into my heaving chest. I jerked up and opened my eyes as wide as they could stretch. From what I could tell, the view of Death’s backyard hadn’t changed. It was just as stark and dismal as I’d remembered and I couldn’t be more relieved.
For now, I noted warily.
It seemed the diamond had dumped me off beside the same devouring misty lake I’d stumbled upon during my first visit. Granted, my drop-zone wasn’t where I’d hoped to land, but my targeted spot wasn’t too far off. Though being familiar with the ghastly horrors its murkiness held, my inconvenient pit stop provided the perfect opportunity to see how much of an actual “presence” I had here.
I whizzed my hand through the mist. My bait proved enticing enough when one of the decrepit hands clamped down on it like a vise. However this time, I was ready and wrestled it off with a feisty yank. Then with a skeevy shudder, I pitched the hunk of rot back into the mist and sprang to my feet. With that checked off my list, I only had one more thing left to do: check what tricks I had at my disposal — the kick-ass kind, to be exact.
I scanned the perimeter with a meticulous sweep. The scene seemed private enough, though I wasn’t sure for how long. I rolled up my sleeve and sliced into my skin. An eerie feeling tugged at my insides as the diamond began taking shape. Wanting the bizarre vibe to end, I focused on its formation, dug in harder, and plucked it out of my arm. I breathed in a shrill gasp as I stared at the diamond, utterly taken aback. The blood was barely visible, overshadowed by the black hue defiling the stone. I seriously didn’t know what the heck to think of that. Baffled, I turned to the sky and stretched my arm up to the dreary canvas hanging over my head. Though I didn’t feel any different when I called for my lightning, a hellish surge of sadistic emotions engulfed me as soon as the fiery-red streak charged into my awaiting hand. My jaw dropped like a sack of bricks. The freakish Darkland’s bolt was the color of a daggone candied apple.
“Shhhit,” I muttered, trying to slow my breaths. This had to be what Silas was talking about. A seductively savage essence pulsed from the bolt in relentless waves. And this also had to be part of the reason why the Onyx wanted my diamond so badly. The power it commanded with the help of the darker magic felt so ferocious and malevolent, and almost scarily invincible. Now I really understood how these full-blooded Darklands creatures could hack into me so easily and why they were immortal in our world. Pure Darklands magic was an indomitable force to be reckoned with when blended with Earth and Veil magic. Even after acknowledging the crude and sinister nature of its source, I couldn’t shun or deny what a powerful rush it was. Some serious hate could be laid with a mere snap of your fingers. And I found that realization as thrilling as I did alarming.
Slowly, I guided the bolt into the diamond. The odd-looking black stone lay in my palm while the lightning writhed and crackled within its walls. Its untamed dance was nothing like the serene flow of swirling energy I’d seen in Gallia’s diamond. Things operated a heck of a lot differently over here where monsters could be killed, and I was seriously praying that Silas knew what the hell he was talking about in regards to all of my adopted stones’ powers. I needed the advantage.
With my surroundings still clear, I carved out my next diamond and conjured another bolt to pack inside it. I’d planned on loading my pockets with at least five of the explosive stones until a blustery breeze carrying the smell of wet fur alerted my senses. I’d no sooner turned around when a lusty growl wrenched my ears. The shadow hound had already pounced, and it was throwing me down on the ground not a second later. This thing had obviously sensed my presence and was eager to get its hunt on. The hound’s fangs were inches from my face, dripping wet and snapping wildly. I focused on the lapis lazuli and rallied a gust of noxious poison that I breathed straight at its snout. The damn thing had barely moaned out a cry before its eyes locked in a daze, and the flex of its muscles came to a speedy halt. The lifeless mass of fur, girth, and fangs, plopped down onto my chest with a hard “thud”. I pushed it off, winded and with a harrowing sense of worry. I realized why Adamas preferred using his sword throughout his many fights. The sensation that had engulfed me while I was whipping up that poison was tainted with pure evil. Yeah, I’d wanted that creature to die, but under the guidance of Darklands magic, I really wanted it dead, like twisted torture-dead — hack it to pie
ces, sever its head, and slam it on the top of a stake. That served as a frightening enough warning, urging me not to cloak myself with invisibly. Surely the feeling would piggyback me the entire way. Who knows what else it would do to me by the time I reached my journey’s end? A wicked case of psychopathic PMS to the nth degree? Possibly? After only experiencing a taste, I wasn’t game to find out how potent a much longer kiss of its power could be. It didn’t make sense to turn all bloodbath-greedy when I was only looking to pick one fight tonight.
And that was saying a lot coming from a gal who didn’t think twice about biting off an imp’s ear only a few short weeks ago.
With that decision rendered, I bolted across the withered wilderness without my golden veil and prayed my steps were as stealthy as they were speedy. I needed to get to my destination as quickly as possible before too many creatures sensed my energy.
I had no idea how long I’d been running by the time I arrived at the desolate quarry-like canyon. My eyes were on high alert as I crept through the uncertain passage, searching the peaks and cliffs of its towering rock walls for any signs of creatures. The cave looked just as precarious as it had before with its sweeping circle of darkness imploring you to keep out and stay away. I stood there eyeing the black hole, ready and impatiently waiting for what seemed like a small eternity. Nothing was stirring. I didn’t hear a solitary sound the entire time nor spy any hopeful hints of glowing yellow eyes piercing me through its shadows. I hadn’t come all this way just to go home empty handed. So with a heavy sigh, I came to grips with the fact that I had to enter yet ANOTHER CAVE, which would never be one of my favorite things. Though I had to admit, it sure beat the crap out of fighting off a handsy little sea-bitch with the home-court advantage of an entire freaking ocean. But that was the only thing that sucked worse than a daggone cave.
I pulled one of the diamonds from my pocket and used its glow to light my way. It illuminated my path in a palette of somber crimsons, bathing both the air and rocks in what looked like a gruesome sea drenched in blood. I carried on at a wary pace, my steps equally as determined as my will. I finally reached what appeared to be the end of the cave, after running into a dead-end and a pile of bones lying around that just confirmed I was standing smack-dab in the middle of the creature’s nest. I’d actually seen real dinosaur bones on a weekend field trip to the Smithsonian when I was in Middle School. They were big, but these son-of-a-guns made those look like a ransacked bucket of chicken wings.
I doubled back to the opening of the cave as fast as my legs could carry me. My feet came to a jarring halt when I saw the creature touching down at its entrance, just as I was about to charge outside. All six of its eyes locked on me immediately, burning my frame with its scorching gaze, while its three beastly heads roared and hissed their fiendish desires.
I wasn’t about to let that thing trap me in here, especially knowing that the only other place I had to go was back to its dinner table. Instinctively and with the humblest of prayers, I threw the diamond at the chimera straightaway and then dove behind some rocks for cover. A violent explosion shook the entire cave, rattling rocks loose all around. The distress powering the creature’s howls drove my head around for a curious peek. Its fire-breathing lion-head was gone, blown to bits and never to be heard from or healed again. A wave of sheer adrenaline-fueled relief pumped through me. Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about! I never thought I would see the day when one of those heads would permanently be out of commission. Though as elated as I was, that creature sure looked well on its way to pissed. I took full advantage of its anguished state and blasted the wounded creature out of my path with a tempest the likes I’d never seen, feeling the creep of more wickedness trying to filter into my soul with every ounce of power I summoned. The chimera flew outside and into the rocks, leaving a splintering depression once it had crashed to the ground. The creature shook off its misery and charged towards me no sooner than I’d stepped outside. It tried clawing me with its paws while I shifted back and forth, dodging its strikes. I knew if it managed to secure the slightest hold on my frame that I was headed for an awfully hairy ride. And that wasn’t happening — not this time.
I blocked out the vile feeling as best I could and commanded another gale to blow it back, just enough so I could hopefully score some lightning. I summoned a bolt as soon as the creature sailed backward. The chimera flapped its wings with a feisty “smack” and then took off just as the lightning landed in my hand. With a powerful gust propelling my feet, I shot into the air high enough to lasso it with the bolt and dragged it back down to the ground along with me. The creature flailed about violently as I tugged it towards me. The closer it came, the more frenzied I felt. I wasn’t sure what came over me on my final yank, but with the deadliest of focused dazes, I crisscrossed the bolt, pulling on its ends hard, and then sliced the creature’s head slick off. The chimera slumped to the ground as fast as its decapitated lizardy-looking goat-head slid off its neck. I cast the bolt aside like I was dropping a scalding pot and dropped to my knees, needing to tame the barbaric beats my heart was thumping out. A thunderous boom rocked the entire canyon when it struck. I heard the snake-head hissing uncontrollably while I sat there trying to usher away all the wickedness and reclaim my composure. Then, once my breaths had calmed, I broke off one of the horns atop the head I’d just severed and drove it straight between the snake-head’s eyes. I backed up and listened to the sound of its last hiss as it dwindled away, heralding its demise. It was dead, finally, and I couldn’t have felt more gratified.
All those liberating feelings came to a swift halt when scores of throaty growls rumbled the air. I trailed them up to the high peaks and cliffs and then panned the craggy panorama with a controlled sweep. A horde of creatures started creeping out of the shadows, most of which I’d never physically seen here before. A few of the more grizzly fanged and wooly beasts rivaled the size of the balegore. And one of the more mammoth scaly creatures could have crushed it with its paw easily or even thumped the daylights out of it with that spike-covered tail to its rear. I sprang to my feet. Whether they had heard the commotion or sensed my essence, they’d come to see what all the fuss was about, and now they were all whet for my blood.
I’d never wished for ruby slippers so hard in my life.
A rustling sound to my rear whirled me around in a panic. I stared at the shadow-faced cloaked figure standing there, too startled to speak or move. I hadn’t seen this thing since my second trip here. The next thing I knew, its tattered cloak was flying around my frame, and I was being jerked towards it, further under the cover of its flowing robe. Then all of a sudden, my body felt like it was drifting, peacefully floating somewhere far away. And though I couldn’t get my eyes to open no matter how hard I tried, I knew I was safe and that the mysterious figure was far from any sort of foe. Something in The Darklands was watching over me.
CHAPTER 22
The sound of an alarm hurtled through my head with the steadfast force of a Marine Corp bugler — popping my lids open and dilating my eyes to attention. And rest assured, not a one of those rousing bells had come from the fancy antique timekeeper sitting on the nightstand to my left. I was up and out of bed before I knew it, my pulse racing as fast as a kid’s on Christmas morning. Tanner was back and considering where my late night adventure had taken me, so was I — miraculously in one piece, thanks to that cloaked whatever. As a show of my gratitude, I decided right then and there to give the mysterious being a proper name. It was the least I could do, though I actually owed it something far more personal.
Fairy Reaper, I mused, hoping it would stick. I couldn’t think of anything else more fitting, seeing how it had magically plucked my butt right out of there like a phantom Fairy Godmother. And besides, as far as Darklands’ creatures went—particularly ones that had helped me more than they could ever know—the name “Silas” was already taken.
I paused in front of the cheval mirror on my way to the bathroom. My gaze lingered longer t
han it had in quite some time and what I saw staring back couldn’t have felt more reassuring. Blinding white streaks sparked in my eyes merely inches above a smile that fired with just as much electricity. I knew at that exact moment how ready I was. The feeling coursing through my body in fervent waves was simply icing on the cake. And the fact that my game-on attitude happened to coincide with today being August 11th didn’t have a damn thing to do with it!
Though I had to admit, the timing couldn’t have been any more freaking perfect.
I was shower-fresh, dressed, and issuing my ponytail its final tug in less than an hour. Now, all I needed to be officially good-to-go was to make my bed and rustle up my mentor — my other one. Seeing how I’d ripped the lid off the house steward’s true identity, I only had to roll a casual thought through my mind — not anything the least bit shouty and no other magical aid required. With the reception those Djinn ears of his claimed, Silas could hear a dog whistle blowing at the bottom of the ocean even if he was up orbiting the earth like a Google satellite.