by Shannon Lamb
Cayden rooted his arms deeper into the soil, feeling the roots wind and tauten with every twitch of his digits. The pull strained his muscles and boiled his blood as it razed Cailene’s jutted hide. The crushing roots encompassed her wriggling body, smothering the sound of shattering glass as they forced the breath from her lungs.
With a strangled battle cry that rang out like silver bells, Cailene thrust out her wings, eviscerating the ancient oak to scraps of kindling in one powerful blow. Aruzhan circled their now seething opponent, searching for the best angle to strike as she constantly switched directions and kicked up loose debris to disorient her. So far, distraction seemed to be the most effective tactic. In the end, it was all they could do.
Laylia slapped her hand over Marie’s mouth, smothering her forthcoming scream as it bubbled up her throat with astounding tenacity. They’d made it to the door, but a massive crater stretched the length of the field. The gap brought their scrambling steps to a frightening halt as they teetered along the edge of the cliff, holding tight to each other as they struggled for balance.
Marie steadied herself with a slow, shaky breath as she stared into the black abyss. She watched the land fall away into nothingness as a few stray pebbles skittered along the harrowing declivity, disappearing into the distant hollow. The sisters staggered back from the edge, stepping in tandem as they anchored each other to the solid ground.
“That could’ve been us!” Marie rasped.
“Don’t try our luck just yet,” Laylia hissed, yanking Marie back from a crumbling foothold that broke off and plunged into the darkness.
Just as surely as they had felt the sturdy rock beneath their feet, they now felt the wind rushing through their hair, enveloping them with gyres of ruthless gales. Marie grappled for phantom reins as they made their lofty ascent atop Bria’s determined body. She sailed across the rustling currents, over the crater and toward the looming shadow of the mausoleum.
Cailene spun her body around as Marie’s screams of surprise reached her ears. She’d eviscerated the others’ feeble attempts to restrain her in one fell swoop as they scattered like dead leaves to the cold autumn wind. Marie’s heart jumped into her throat at the sight of Cailene breaking into a full gallop, as giddy as a wee foal at the first sign of spring.
In a desperate attempt to force her attention, Alex threw his body into Cailene’s path to serve as a crude obstruction. With a careless swipe of her massive paw and an offhand sigh of displeasure, she sent him sprawling into a giant, overgrown oak, splitting it in two from the immense velocity alone.
Glistening globules of fatty tissue seeped through his punctured hide, suffusing his once pristine pelt with runnels of silver and merlot. With monumental effort, he stumbled to his feet and weakly staggered in place, struggling to see through the haze of blood and sweat.
Cayden blanched at the sight of Alex, shifting his arms deeper into the land and erecting a towering barricade of gnarled brambles that swallowed Cailene’s next steps. Aruzhan hastily stalked the perimeter in an attempt to discern Cailene’s frantic movements among the thickening barbs, never straying too far from Alex’s side.
Fallon seized the fleeting opportunity as she lined the spaces between her fingers with daggers. With expert aim, she sent them spiraling through the air in a matrix of angles that tested for her enemy’s weakness. Cailene’s discordant trinity battled to be heard as one of the daggers lodged itself into the side of her mask, bringing about a universal shudder as her scream pierced the atmosphere.
She flailed wildly from the pain, emerging from her thorny prison only to be ambushed by the three Umbra. Now that they knew her weakness, they didn’t think to hesitate. In a flurry of teeth and claws, they tore into the surprisingly ductile porcelain with atavistic abandon, twisting her darkly delicate features into a deformity of nightmares.
Marie stiffened as Cailene’s horrible screams slammed into her, stealing the breath from her lungs and dredging up a surprising feeling of pity. Drunk with fear, she tightly grasped the key in her shaking hands. She outwardly cursed herself as she clumsily fumbled with the lock, finding it near impossible to connect the two.
“Focus. Ignore everything else.” Laylia slid her delicate hands over Marie’s, quelling her trembling. “We’re almost there.”
“Focus,” Marie visibly shuddered. “I’ll try.”
It was as if time had stopped with the turn of the key. The chaos of the raging battle cut off abruptly with the winding of tumblers, replaced by an all-encompassing silence that breathed life into the tiny hairs tingling at the base of Marie’s neck, bringing them to full attention with a sharp jolt of energy.
Marie and Laylia reluctantly turned to see what fresh tragedy had transpired, only to find the three Umbra huddled around a glowing object at the center of the wreckage, looking just as confused. Marie languidly surveyed the damage to the land with a pang of remorse. Her stomach twisted in knots upon discovering Marcel’s absence. She hoped, for Laylia’s sake, that his disappearance had gone unnoticed by her elder sister.
Cerin and Fallon inquired impatiently, demanding an explanation and growing substantially more frustrated as their confusion deepened. They attempted to see around the Umbra and discover for themselves what had caused such awed silence, only to fall victim themselves.
Cailene’s mask hung in tatters around her face as her rugged appearance melted away to reveal a different creature entirely. Remnants of her former self suffused the shriveled tussocks beneath her limp body with a dark ring of blood as it purled through the grass. She was a majestic sight to behold, making the other Umbra pale in comparison.
She’d more than halved in size, and her serrated glass coat had dissolved to reveal an unruly shock of pearly flowing curls, edged with the sparkle of diamonds as they rippled in the sun. The sunlight skittered along her subtly pied gossamer wings, reflecting dapples of dancing prisms and surrounding her with an iridescent aura. Her beauty was astounding when Marie considered the madness trapped within.
The sight of Gustav stalking toward her with his face screwed up in angry determination marred the strangely perfect scene. Marie had thought everything had been going according to plan until she observed the anger rolling off of him in waves. It was like heat streaming from the pavement, barely visible but fully felt.
She turned on her heel and faced her back to him. She blatantly ignored him and pushed in the door to the tomb in an obvious effort to get away. She sharply turned to her sister, feeling the warm rush of adrenaline upon seeing her own nervous smile reflected in Laylia’s pale face. Knowing she wasn’t alone was the only thing that gave her the courage to take her first step into the darkness.
TWO-FACED
At the center of the room was an open-faced coffin of bleached ivory, adorned with rubies and sapphires, symbolic of the grief and bloodshed that was the catalyst for its creation. The beauty of the woman held inside eclipsed that of their elegant surroundings and brought Marie to a stumbling halt as she looked on the otherworldly stranger with awe.
Thick tresses of ashen hair purled with silver framed her round face, infused with a surprisingly healthy glow for one who’d gone cold so long ago. A thick fringe of shock white lashes embossed her deep-set black eyes, infusing them with a chillingly lively appearance. A deep shade of plum sharpened the hollow of her cheeks, offset by a vibrant rouge that traced the line of her delicate mouth. A black silk and burgundy lace gown clung to the woman’s shapely frame.
“Mother!” Laylia pressed her back to the wall and steadied herself with slow, deep breaths. She certainly wasn’t surprised to see her mother here, but she hadn’t expected her to be so well preserved. She found the thought of bare bone and rotted flesh oddly more settling, for it’s what she’d expected to see. “She looks exactly the same!” Laylia gasped as her face twisted with confusion.
That can’t be the monster Gustav warned me about. Marie eyed the fragile woman cautiously. She mindlessly stroked the hilt of her dagger as
she carefully edged closer. “I hate to be indelicate, but...” Marie cringed, anticipating the impact of her next words. “Do people here not decay after they die?”
“They do,” Laylia nodded somberly. “They don’t, however, breathe,” Laylia rasped. She nervously felt along the wall for the protrusion of the doorjamb as she scrambled toward the stream of incoming sunlight.
Breathe? “Laylia, what are you...” Marie took a shaky step forward, furrowing her brow in concentration as she peered into the coffin. “...talking about?” Marie’s voice faded to a murmur of jumbled consonants as she took in the gentle rise and fall of Evangeline’s chest, stopping her own cold.
She and Laylia turned sharply with a unified gasp as Gustav’s stout figure suddenly filled the doorway. He cast a surprisingly long shadow that absorbed the meager remnants of light spattering the room, and created a visible shift in the atmosphere as the mausoleum darkened.
“This was your task, Mariella, and yours alone. She shouldn’t be here,” Gustav said as he hurried into the room.
“What?” Marie asked dumbly, taken aback by his surprising audacity. “She’s my sister, and this affects all of us,” she quickly recovered her bearings with a flare of her nostrils. Her faith in Gustav diminished with every harsh word and dirty look.
“Why haven’t you done what you’ve set out to do? I told you not to hesitate! Not even for a moment, child!” he barked with a hailstorm of angry spittle.
“I’m not a child! You have no right to speak to me that way, and I’m disinclined to believe anything you have to say when you act like a crazed maniac!” she slammed her hand down on the side of the coffin for emphasis.
Laylia’s piercing shriek brought their squabbling to an abrupt halt as she crumpled to the floor in a lifeless heap. Marie jerked her head toward Evangeline, suddenly remembering with frightening clarity what had unraveled her nerves and stopped her heart cold before Gustav came crashing through her thoughts. Marie found herself face to face with Evangeline. She peered into her deep-set black eyes rimmed with tears, horrifyingly animated in her taut, pale face.
“Mariella!” Evangeline dug her icy fingertips into Marie’s temples, shaking her young daughter with a surge of joy and horror. “You shouldn’t have come.” Marie quailed when Evangeline pressed her clammy forehead to Marie’s.
The gentle touch swiftly brought her to her knees as everything faded to black. Foreign voices drifted in among her thoughts, slowly tying themselves to obscure images shimmering in the distance, as if she were trapped between consciousness and dreaming.
It all seemed so serene as she slowly made her way toward the distant flurry of activity. She temporarily suspended her disbelief, as if walking through a lucid dream. She was barely conscious of Alex’s looming presence as he came bounding into the room, mad with bloodlust.
He charged toward Evangeline, ready to betray his very blood and rip her from Marie when his creator’s outstretched hand stopped him cold. Marie wasn’t entirely cogent, but there was no indecision in her hard gaze. Her cold blue eyes reduced Alex to nothing more than a whimpering mongrel.
“It’s alright,” she said as softly as a sigh. She let her consciousness drift to another plane as Alex’s worried face faded from her mind. Somehow, she knew she was safe, though that knowledge did nothing to allay his drifting thoughts.
A scattered flock of servants bustled along the gilded marble. They irritably fussed about the flowers and perfected the lines of the shimmering tiers of lace as if they were sculpting stone. They passed through Marie as if she were no more than a gyre of dust motes. She was standing in the middle of the throne room, but it was no longer the dark chasm she remembered it to be.
Vibrant tapestries stretched the length of the room, their subtle pattern embossed by yellow flowering vines that wrapped around the towering columns and traced the fine ridges of the carved stone. Light breathed life into everything in the room, framing Evangeline’s smiling face with a glowing nimbus as she mindlessly stroked her stomach and hummed a gentle tune, looking out on her kingdom with beaming contentment.
Upon seeing her mother’s face, Marie became acutely aware that she was watching a memory. She stood stock-still for fear of discovery, having little faith in how ineffectual her presence might be, despite signs to the contrary. She silently watched the softly sighing Queen with rapt attention.
“Hello, Cailene,” a playful smile tugged at the corners of Evangeline’s mouth as Cailene emerged from the shadows beside her throne.
“My Queen,” Cailene said stiffly with a customary bow.
The Cailene that stood before Evangeline was not the haggard old woman that Marie had come to hate and fear. Tight, ebony ringlets fell around her heart-shaped face and bounced playfully along her strong jaw line. Her pale skin and rosy cheeks made her appear strangely childlike, belied by her captivatingly ancient eyes. Their pale blue depths contained shards of fractured rainbow and reflected the soul of a wild beast, stalking its prey deep into the night.
“We’ve known each other for decades. Will you ever stop addressing me so formally?” It was a rhetorical question Evangeline posed every day; one that consistently yielded no results. “You’re even more serious than usual. What’s wrong, dear?”
“It’s been one week. I still haven’t heard word from Eka. Not a word!” she raked a shaky hand through her unruly tresses, letting them cascade over her eyes to conceal the surge of emotion they betrayed.
“I’m sorry to hear that, dear, but I’m sure your brother is fine,” Evangeline cooed. “My husband is always sending him to and fro. A pair of adventurers, those two,” she smiled warmly. “I’m sure this time is no different.”
“Ha. The King doesn’t go on too many adventures these days, my lady.”
“Cailene!” Evangeline’s gasp suppressed a low giggle. “You’re not wrong. The King is older now, and he does not venture out as much. Still, you know how sensitive he is about his age. What if he’d heard you?” she chuckled. “Speaking of which, where is my doting husband? I’ve wonderful news to tell him!”
“I think I know what that news is…”
“Is it that obvious?” Evangeline teased. “Yes, I am with child! It’s a girl, I just know it! I can always tell, you know,” she beamed. “I’ve decided on Mariella. Beautiful name, isn’t it?”
“Yes, my Queen,” Cailene nodded absently, lost to a sudden swell of dark thoughts. “Eva...” she sighed, lowering herself to one knee as she gently took Evangeline’s hand in hers.
“You used my name. This must be serious.”
“May I be honest with you, my Queen?” Cailene spoke through clenched teeth, overwhelmed by the ruminations burning a hole in her tongue.
“I hope you always are, my friend.”
“I don’t think you should tell the King about Mariella,” she winced. “Not just yet, anyway.”
“Why ever not?” Evangeline demanded.
“I don’t mean to speak out of turn,” Cailene began hesitantly, cocking her head to the side and shading her face with wisps of shadow.
“Nonsense,” Evangeline sighed. “Tell me what troubles you.”
“The King has not been himself lately. He has been cruel and withdrawn. I suspect…” she trailed off, stammering. “I don’t know exactly what to suspect, but my trust in him is faltering.”
“Cailene!” Evangeline suddenly stiffened, jerking her hand from Cailene’s grasp. “You’re my best friend, but you should not speak of my husband, your King, that way,” her expression hardened as she coldly looked beyond Cailene and absently studied the arch of the ceiling.
“I’m sorry, my Queen. I did not mean to upset you.” Cailene shrank into an upright fetal position, urging herself not to go on. “I would not even think to mention it unless I thought my words had merit!” she bowed her head, inwardly cursing herself.
“Yes, I know you wouldn’t,” Evangeline sighed. “I promise to look into the matter,” she nodded begrudgingly. “Until
then, we shall keep little Mariella a secret, but it is not one I can hold for long,” Evangeline smiled, fondly stroking her abdomen.
The scene before Marie darkened, leaving her in a state of confused anticipation. She suddenly found herself in the old King and Queen’s master bedroom, with no idea how she’d gotten there. She braced herself with a weary grimace as they prepared to turn in for the night.
“Try to get some sleep, Xenos, darling,” Evangeline suggested with a playful sidelong glance.
“Sleep? You do not wish to make love to your King?” he chuckled heartily.
“Always, my love,” she smiled coyly. “Although, there is something I’d like to discuss with you first,” she slowly turned to the plump, bearded figure beside her.
“What is it, my dear?” he gently laced his fingers through the ends of her silver hair.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time in your study,” she began softly.
“Is that so wrong, a man having a thirst for knowledge? A King should be wise!” he growled, ripping his hand from her hair and turning away.
“And a wise King you are, my dear,” she rectified with an apologetic touch at his shoulder, tenderizing the knots with a firm but gentle hand. “I’m only concerned,” she muttered. “Are you taking proper care of yourself? You are gone often, and I grow lonely in your absence. It is a wife’s duty to worry,” she purred, gently nuzzling his earlobe. “But why the mystery, my love? I keep no secrets from you.” Evangeline felt Xenos’ muscles grow stiff beneath her kneading fingertips.
“You are so beautiful, my love,” he turned and flashed her a chilling smile, causing her to instinctively cradle her womb as she shied away. “I haven’t been keeping secrets, but simply a surprise. I suppose I cannot keep it from you any longer, you little vixen.” A flickering candle limned his face with a sinister glow. His coquettish tone did nothing to assuage her nerves as he pulled a small vial of deep red liquid from the folds of his silken robe.