Alaudrin looked directly at Banash. He clearly recognized her. Hatred sparked in his dull eyes.
“Seven hundred and sixty-eight winters,” he said, “I have rotted in my prison, growing frail and old. I fed on the energy of my own creations just to survive. I have outlived even the oldest of the seraphim who came before me. And all this time, I have watched this world suffer like a drowning man. You,” he pointed an accusing, skinny finger at Banash, “you did this to me. You cursed me to this ineptitude.”
Banash lifted her chin defiantly.
“You wish to stand against me, Banash?” Alaudrin wheezed. “After all I have given you?”
“You have given me nothing but centuries of heartache,” Banash said. “Because of you, the reapers are gone. The world suffers in despair without them.”
Reapers? What did reapers have to do with any of this?
“I may have provided the tools,” Alaudrin said. His voice was so weak it barely carried all the way down to where Banash and I stood, held in place by golems. “But you did all of the killing all on your own.”
Banash scowled. “I am not the only one with genocide on my hands, Alaudrin. I may have wiped out the reapers, but you killed the rest of the seraphim.”
Alaudrin smiled. He had only about three teeth in his wizened old jaw. “All according to plan,” he said.
“You killed the seraphim?” Rath asked.
“For so many eons, the seraphim served humanity, preserving life and watching mortals make the same foolish mistakes over and over again. But I changed everything. I don’t simply preserve life. I create it.” Alaudrin gestured to the golems that were holding Banash and me in place.
“The reapers — the guardians of the spirit — would never have allowed me to create a race of my own. They were angry that I was borrowing spirits who were meant to pass through the Gates. The other seraphim were aghast when they heard my plan. We were meant to serve humanity, not recreate it. But I was tired of being a servant. I was ready to be a god.” Alaudrin’s speech was interrupted by weak, dry coughs.
Banash tried to break away from the golem that held her, but it held on tight. “While I was off on my fool’s errand, hunting the reapers,” she said, “you were killing off the other seraphim.”
“Yes, and now I can finally tie up the last loose end:” Alaudrin leered at Banash. “You.”
Rath looked as horrified as I felt. I watched his expression turn from confusion to disgust to grim determination. He reached into his coat and pulled out one of his vials. But before he had a chance to toss it, the seraph turned on him.
“Stop,” Alaudrin said. Rath froze.
“No, no, no,” Banash moaned. “Don’t go near him,” she warned. “Do not touch him.”
Alaudrin laughed a pitying, mocking laugh. “Oh, Banash, don’t you understand? He has no choice.” He twisted his frail wrists, and his eyes flashed gold again. “I created him — and all of his people — to be perfectly obedient. Come to me,” he said, and Rath floated forward.
Confused as I was, every instinct told me that this was a terrible thing.
“Don’t touch him,” I whispered. But I knew Rath couldn’t hear me.
As soon as Rath was within reach, the seraph touched his forehead. His old body glowed with a brilliant light and then vanished into dust. Rath began to glow with the same light. He lifted high into the air, writhing. His screams echoed off the walls.
“Rath!” I cried. I tried to force my way out of the golem’s hands.
Six large white wings sprouted from Rath’s back, ripping through his coat. Breathing heavily, he slowly lowered himself toward the ground.
Alaudrin preened in his new body. He tried to take a sauntering step forward but almost fell flat on his face. His wings flapped quickly to keep him upright. Alaudrin glared down at his stump of a leg with a severe frown.
“Well, this will have to do,” he said. He flew off the dais and landed in front of Banash. “Now,” he said, “I only have to get rid of you.”
My gaze found a familiar face among the golems. My eyes widened in horror. This one was a woman, older than the others and not of Jinee descent. I knew her. I knew her too well. I had obsessed over every detail of her face since I first met her over four winters ago. I had memorized her smile, the shape of her nose, the slant of her jaw.
Mel.
She had followed me here. Unable to resist the draw of a body, she had joined the Jinee kiys and become a golem. I thought knowing that she was dead was the worst thing I would ever experience where Mel was concerned. I was wrong.
This was much, much worse.
Mel’s eyes flickered. She looked right at me. I saw the feisty energy that had always been her trademark. I saw determination blazing behind her carefully neutral expression. I saw how much I had hurt her and how much she loved me despite it all. She gave me the smallest nod, like a soldier recognizing one of her own. Then she released her hold on Banash, stepped around her, and sent her stone fist flying right into Alaudrin’s smug face.
Alaudrin was knocked off his feet by the power of Mel’s punch. But he recovered quickly, thanks to his many wings. I watched in awe and horror as his broken nose — Rath’s broken nose — healed instantly. Alaudrin waved his hand and sent the Mel-golem flying across the room.
Banash tried to take advantage of the chaos to escape. She Stepped out of Alaudrin’s way, appearing behind him with her dagger already drawn. Alaudrin snapped his fingers, and she crashed to the floor.
“Are you really trying to use the armor against me?” Alaudrin asked. “I forged that armor with my own hands.” With a snap of his fingers, the armor jumped from Banash’s body and swirled in the air around her. “How dare you try to turn it on me?”
The armor began to attach itself to his body. He glowed brilliantly. More of the armor began to appear.
This was it. This was the end. I braced myself as the entire suit of armor, including Shyronn’s sword, attached itself to Alaudrin.
It didn’t fit.
With nowhere to attach on Rath’s small and one-legged body, one whole leg of the armor clattered to the floor. Banash dove for it, grabbing the boot and Stepping out of the way before Alaudrin could stop her.
Alaudrin scowled.
“You,” Alaudrin turned toward the Mel-golem, “have a lot of spirit, don’t you? But you belong to me now, and you will obey me.”
Mel’s eyes turned gold.
I realized at last what Banash was so afraid of. Seraph Alaudrin had a power far more dangerous than any deadman or haunt. He had the power to rob mankind of its will. If he had his way, all of the human race would be like these poor Jinee, powerless slaves to a greedy master. Alaudrin’s control over the Jinee didn’t stop with the first generation of recycled souls. Rath had been born like any normal human, and still, he was trapped by the same magic that bound his ancestors. Now I knew why they granted wishes. It was all part of Alaudrin’s sick plan to create a race of perfect slaves.
I couldn’t imagine a whole world like this, full of people with no choice but to follow every whim of their mad-with-power creator. What was the point of a life with no choice? I preferred a world terrorized by deadmen to a world ruled by Alaudrin.
“Kill her,” Alaudrin commanded. It sounded like a simple suggestion. He may very well have discussed his dinner in the same tone.
The golems dived for Banash. She scampered out of the way with much less grace than usual. She shoved her foot into the boot and Stepped out of sight. She appeared a few paces back and was nearly seized by another golem.
These golems were going to be a problem.
I didn’t know how I would possibly be able to help, but I was certainly getting tired of being stuck in this golem’s uncomfortable embrace. Then I noticed something. A hum of energy, almost like a note thrumming in the air. Alaudrin may have created this golem’s body out of stone, but there was still an alien spirit trapped inside it. One that wanted to get out.
“Ha!” I caught the string I sensed in the air between us, held it securely, and yanked. The golem instantly stopped moving. I wiggled and squirmed out of the statue’s grasp.
As soon as I was free, I scurried to the next golem. I ducked to avoid a swinging punch it threw my way, then touched it on the forehead and ejected its spirit as well.
Alaudrin and Banash were locked in a tense struggle, most of which consisted of Banash Stepping for the preservation of her life as Alaudrin pursued her.
The golems kept getting in Banash’s way, but soon, there was only one left — the only one I wasn’t willing to force out of her new body. Since I was trying so hard to avoid her, I wasn’t watching closely, and the Mel-golem managed to get behind me. I tried to twist out of her way, but we both fell to the floor. She wrapped her stone hands around my neck.
She was too strong to be pushed away. Was I going to have to rip her spirit out? Could I bear to kill her a second time?
I writhed desperately beneath her. My vision was beginning to dim. My lungs were begging for mercy. I dug into my pocket for my candle. Maybe fire would scare her. My hand found the circlet instead. I yanked the circlet out of my pocket and shoved it on my head just as I felt my lungs collapsing. Vala and sys erupted between us. Mel went flying. I slid several paces along the floor.
I freaked out and tried to rip the circlet from my head when I heard voices. But this voice was different from the monsters that had possessed me earlier. This was a soothing voice, speaking in a language I didn’t understand. Her tone was steady and even. I couldn’t untangle the circlet from my hair, so I pushed it back onto my head. Every time I blinked, I saw strange images behind my eyelids. I saw a winding staircase, stars, water.
Banash crashed to the ground, groaning in pain. Alaudrin hovered over her triumphantly.
“What’s wrong, Banash?” Alaudrin teased. “Getting tired? How incredibly human of you.”
Human.
Alaudrin hated humans because he couldn’t control them. They were too different from himself. He hated granting wishes for them. That was why he had created the Jinee — so their roles would be reversed. Granting wishes wasn’t just a mark of the Jinee people. The wish granting was a trait of the seraphim as well. I had a sudden crazy, wild idea.
Alaudrin held his sword over Banash.
“Alaudrin!” I yelled.
Alaudrin rotated in the air to face me. His lip curled in disdain when he saw me.
“Alaudrin,” I said. “We did you a favor.”
“And what was that?” Alaudrin asked, his tone laced with irritation.
“We set you free,” I declared. “Without us, you never would have escaped that prison!”
“I suppose that makes you a fool, now, doesn’t it?” Alaudrin had one of the most annoying smug tones I had ever heard. I was glad he hovered in the air out of my reach or I would have tried to punch that smile off of his face like Mel had.
“You owe me; you us a boon,” I said.
Anger flickered through Alaudrin’s eyes. He gazed at me with pure malice. Funny, how he hated granting wishes, yet he forced the same fate onto his prized people. Maybe it was time to give him a taste of his own power.
“What … do you … want?” He asked through gritted teeth. It was so weird to hear his words from Rath’s mouth. Perhaps Rath had always wanted to show such loathing for me. Maybe he was even happier now as Alaudrin’s slave instead of mine. But I looked at Rath’s face and couldn’t see any of him in it. This wasn’t Rath. Was this what it felt like to face me when the Voices had taken my mind?
“I wish,” I swallowed. This was it. The only chance we possibly had. If this didn’t work, Alaudrin would kill Banash. I knew I wouldn’t be far behind. “I wish for you to leave Rath’s body,” I said, “and take mine instead.”
Banash gasped.
Alaudrin raised an eyebrow. He looked me over, his head tilted to the side. I was nothing compared to the golden and powerful Banash, but I was young and healthy (and handsome). Alaudrin must have recognized that and desired it because his response was, “I always did prefer to have two legs.”
Alaudrin pointed his hand at me and gold light streaked toward me. I braced myself, but no amount of time could have ever prepared me for the pain of Alaudrin’s essence invading my body. Simply touching Rath or Banash had given me burns or sapped my strength. Now I had the unconcealed power of a true seraph invading my every pore.
I heard screams of pure agony, though whether they were mine or Alaudrin’s, I couldn’t tell. I felt as if I were being ripped to shreds and burned alive and drowned all at once. All of the deaths Rath had saved me from collided with my battered body at the same time. Any strength I thought I had vanished all at once, and I learned a lesson I never wanted to learn. I learned what happens when vala and sys attempt to coexist in the same body.
It dies.
And then it all stopped. The pain, the voices, the screams, even the rush of my own heart was suspiciously still. I felt weightless. One strong wind, and I would simply float away. Perhaps this was what death felt like.
All around me was whiteness. It was thick and soft all at once, like a cloud. I stood on the rim of a large bowl filled with a silvery liquid, able to keep my balance only because of the presence of another person on the opposite side. I knew this man was Alaudrin, though he looked nothing like the Alaudrin I had ever seen. He was young and tall and thin, as if two strong men had grabbed him by the ankles and wrists and stretched him out. Though he glowed with a soft golden light, he was surrounded by darkness. I saw in my reflection that I looked exactly the opposite. My whole figure was dark, but a golden light shone from behind me. I felt its presence there. It was a slight, but insistent pull.
Alaudrin smiled with the slyness of a hunting fox.
“Donald Baines,” he said, as if announcing my presence to a riveted audience.
“What?” I asked, my classic clever response. At least I still had my quick wits to keep my opponent at bay. I had grown so accustomed to my birth name that I had almost forgotten the name I had been given by the parents who raised me.
“Donald Baines,” Alaudrin repeated. He swayed back and forth, causing our precarious platform to tilt. I threw my hands out and imitated a baby bird to keep from toppling over. “That is your name, is it not?” The smoothness of his tone put me instantly on edge. He was so confident and suave, while I could barely stand upright or form a coherent sentence. In my defense, I was just getting used to being dead. For all I knew, Alaudrin had been dead for hundreds of winters. “Despite the title the world has forced on you, you have always identified as simple, imbecilic farmboy Donald Baines. Isn’t that right, Don?”
I frowned. “Careful,” I warned him. “The last person who called me farmboy ended up with his own knife in his chest.”
Alaudrin threw back his head and laughed. His laughter didn’t quite match the cleverness of my response. It was too much. He was laughing at something else.
“You are almost clever, Donald. Impressive for a human.” Alaudrin gestured at the darkness that surrounded him. “I know what you are now, Death-Child. You are Banash’s little project.”
“I’m no one’s project,” I said.
Alaudrin chuckled. “You tricked me into taking your sys-filled body. Now we are at odds, Donald. Your sys versus my vala. Winner takes all.”
“Well, I always did like a challenge.”
“But look at all of the mistakes you have made.” With a sweep of his hand, the liquid in the bottom of the bowl shimmered, and an image appeared on the smooth surface. I saw myself as a young lad, standing on the roof of my pa’s barn, bragging to the people gathered below that I could not be killed. I watched myself jump and flinched as I witnessed my own landing.
Alaudrin chuckled. “What a fool you are, Donald. This will be an easy game to win.” He swayed his hips to the sides, and the bowl rocked. He was trying, subtly, to make me fall. What would happen if I fell off?
The
scene in the bowl changed. My heart sank when I saw my brother Tan. He was wet and shivering, quickly soaking the dry coat the younger me had thrown over his shoulders. He glared accusingly at me, his nose red and his eyes brimming with tears.
“That was mean,” he said. Alaudrin said it right along with him.
I looked up, and our gazes met.
“Don’t you see?” Alaudrin asked in a sing-songy whisper. “What happened to your little friend next, Don?”
“He got sick,” I admitted with growing horror. As a child, I had never connected my riverside prank with Tan’s sudden decline in health.
“He died,” Alaudrin added. I shuddered. “You pushed him into that river, Don, and it killed him.”
I stared down at Tan’s miserable face. I had killed my brother. Was that the reason he lingered in our bedroom? Did he blame me for his death?
“You contracted the same illness as your brother, but did you die?” Alaudrin shook his head and clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Of course not.”
Now, Rath appeared in the reflections on the water’s surface. In quick succession, I saw everything I had ever done to wrong him. I watched with horror as he lost his leg. I watched him huddle with my infant self, curled in his arms on a dirty wooden floor, sobbing in pain and grief while I bawled for food. I saw each and every time I had ever needed his assistance, every time I had dragged him away from his life.
I saw a lonely fire burning on an abandoned funeral pyre. I watched as a tear-stained kerchief drifted to the floor where a grieving Rath had been standing moments before. I saw every burned pot, every ruined potion, and every frustration I had ever caused my unwilling slave. I saw the look of horror on his face when I commanded my deadmen army to kill. And I saw the light die in his eyes as he hauled me from the edge of a cliff, the moment I gave up and finally broke his heart.
“Stop,” I whispered. But the scenes didn’t stop.
I watched as Rath tried to balance on the edge of a bowl similar to the one I stood on now. But he had only one leg and no crutch and no enchanted armor to keep him upright. And then I saw him see his own miserable reflection in the water. He looked up at the same Alaudrin I faced now. He had no hope in his eyes, no determination.
Fatal Heir Page 26