Valkyrie Divided (Pyralis Book 2)

by Brandy L. Cunningham

  The click-clack of something solid thumping against the wooden floor caught my attention and I narrowed my eyes, trying my damnedest to see what was causing the sound. Through the skeletal decomposing bodies of my adversaries, I caught the slightest glance of a pin-striped suit. If my blood could have frozen, it would have. I had seen a suit like that before, nearly a year ago. My eyes followed the black and white pinstripes as I launched another ball of fire at a dark Spector lunging for me.

  The suit disappeared between bones and flesh, hidden behind the dark images of phantom demons. Still I could hear the click-clack of the metal cane on the wooden floors. Turning my head, I stared at the Witches gathered behind me.

  “Get out of here now, while you still have the chance!” When they hesitated, fear and uncertainty reflecting in their eyes, I bellowed. “Now!”

  The Witches scurried out of the Citadel behind me, into what I could only hope was safety. The sound of Gargoyles roaring penetrated my mind, and I knew my army had come. Focusing my attention again on the hideous creatures now surrounding me, I glanced left and right. I didn’t know where he had gone, until I heard a whisper.

  “Precious girl, how long I have searched for you. Hidden, always hidden.” The cryptic words were whispered in a gravelly voice that grated on me and sent trepidation crawling up my spine.

  He stepped out from behind one of my half-decomposed adversaries. His white eyes glowed in an unearthly way, and his blue-tinged white hair was half covered by the black top-hat I remembered from our first meeting. His face was gaunt, skeletal but still covered with pale flesh. His emaciated hand gripped a cane, the blue-tinged skin stretched tight over the boney knuckles. The cane was the same as I recalled, still black and silver, with the chilling raven perched on the top. The tiny bird was different this time, however. As I stared at it, the eyes lit up white, just like the man’s.

  “What are you?” I couldn’t help it. I was truly stumped by this spine-chilling man, and none of my senses were telling me anything.

  The man’s thin lips pulled back into a smile then, and I wished fervently that he hadn’t. The skin pulled away from his mouth, opening pockets below his protruding cheekbones. I could see the dark void inside his mouth. His teeth were small and numerous, all hosting sharp points.

  “You have not heard of the Corvo little Vampire? Surely your all wizened, all-knowing Fiddler would have mentioned me?” When I didn’t answer, he shrugged a boney shoulder.

  “No? Awe well, nevertheless, all bad things come to know me in the end. When your soul is bad, and your heart black, who comes a calling? The Corvo. Like my carrion seeking cousins, I too seek that which is rotted. You, my dear, have been deemed damned.”

  Staring at him in disbelief, I wasn’t entirely sure how to react to this creature. Corvo? I knew I had heard the name somewhere, but no bells were ringing in my mind. One of his minions lunged for me again, and I sliced through his middle with my blade. The creature fell to the floor in two pieces, withering to dust. The eyes of the Corvo flashed brighter.

  “I do not know what a Corvo is, but you are not welcome here. Leave this city. The Witches rule this territory.”

  He laughed. The sound was like fingernails scraped against a chalkboard. “Don’t I know it, little Vampire. Once, I too called myself a Witch. Once, like your Fiddler, I was revered and looked upon with admiration. Now, you see what damnation does to us. Hell calls you home, little Vampire, and you will belong to us.”

  I’d had enough of this Corvo. I didn’t like his words, or the message they portrayed. Raising my sword, I growled deeply, allowing the darker side of myself to erupt, and my flames to burn brighter. Advancing on him and his henchmen, I swung my sword, slicing through them. The Corvo watched me with fascination. It was a look that made him even more terrifying. Around me, his decomposing army attacked, but they were not invulnerable to the fires of my soul. They circled me, drowning in my flames. The hot fires that flowed around me and my wings reduced them to ash.

  The Corvo twirled his cane, and a blast erupted from the tip, sending me catapulting backward, crashing into the brick wall. Standing quickly, I launched fireballs at him, watching as he ducked away, and blocked some with his cane. My fires became hotter, and the windows exploded in a blast of shattered glass, raining down on the streets outside. Lunging toward him, I slashed at him with my sword. The edge sliced across the front of his suit, opening it up to reveal only a black void within.

  My attack seemed to disarm him, and he stared at the blue fires coursing over my blade as though in fear. Looking up at me, he flashed his cane again, and this time, it was not a blast of magic that flew at me, but hundreds of ravens. They came from nowhere, funneling straight for me, avoiding me at the last moment. When I lifted my eyes, the pinstriped suit of the Corvo lay on the ground, and the creature was gone.

  Words hung in the air, pulsating in my ears and in my mind. “Today, tomorrow, a year from now, it matters not. You belong to Hell, and Hell will have you!”

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  Emerging from the glass and dust of the Citadel, I surveyed the streets around me. Blood stained the darkened sidewalks, and Vampires lay strewn about in a massacre. Looking around sadly, I realized it was not just the Vampires that had been slain. Witches, Gargoyles, Wolves, they all lay there. Many lives had been lost on both sides of the battle. The remaining opposing Vampires fled into the city around us. Those who stood with me moved forward. Chandler limped toward me, and I cringed. The last thing I wanted was to see my friends harmed.

  Still in the gray form of his Gargoyle, he peered at me, assessing with those stone colored eyes. Around him, other gargoyles were flocking to him, many of them wounded. I gave him a nod.

  “Gather all the wounded, and see to them. You need to heal. We will gather the fallen bodies of our comrades, and burn the bodies of the traitors. The Citadel is empty, for now, but we need to go in there, to investigate. If there is a doorway that has been opened, we need to find out.”

  In my heart, I knew we had lost. The demons had been let loose long before we had arrived, and there had been no sign of Byron or his dark Witch. I had no idea what the Corvo was, or where he stood amongst all of this, but I had the feeling Rafael might. Sadness filled my heart as I looked over all those who lay dead. As Chandler led the wounded away, a face emerged from the crowd.

  His white-blond hair glistened where it was not streaked with blood, and his face held a savage, predatory expression. It moved me to know Viren had indeed come to our aid, but it made me wonder about his own Lost City.

  “Viren, we thank you for your aid in our time of need. What of the Tombs of Viren? Are they overrun?”

  Viren’s blue eyes flashed as he seemed to compose himself, fighting the violence within him. Gritting his teeth as he relaxed his features, he shook his head. “The Tombs of Viren are safe. There were no doorways opened within my city. My Cast guards it as we speak.”

  I bowed my head, grateful to know we had not lost at least that city. Turning, I scanned the crowd, my gaze settling on a group of Witches, walking to them, I left Viren to other matters.

  “Send a group into the Citadel. Find out if there are open portals in there. We need to know if this city is secured or not.”

  The Witches nodded, moving off immediately to do as instructed. Taking a deep breath, I retracted my wings, and called my fires back inside of myself. I was energized by the solar rays in the dark sky emitted by the eclipse, but my body needed to feed. Moving away from the others, I walked slowly, seeking solitude. My mind was full of dark thoughts, and doubts about myself. I was the daughter of death. Did that mean I was destined to a life of damnation? The words of the Corvo hung like a dark plague over my mind.

  Once my appetite was sated, I sat in the dark, pulling chunks of glass from my skin. Watching in fascination as flames licked over the oozing wounds, sealing them, I sighed. Loneliness was not a kind lover. She was cruel and harsh. She seemed to be my lasting companion these
days. It seemed my soul would long for no one but Aeron. In a moment of desolation, I felt hate well within me. Part of me hated him for pushing me away, for leaving me. I needed him so much now, and he was gone.

  A twig snapped behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder to see who was there. Around me, there existed only darkness, the inky blackness of the city where the light of the eclipse didn’t penetrate its streets. The park in which I had hidden myself away was lush with trees, and they kept the obscurity thick, and the visibility low. To a human, anyway. I was no human any longer. I could see easily into the dark, but there was no one there. My eyes scanned the area rapidly, but there was nothing.

  Turning my gaze forward, I let out a long breath. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself a rare moment to look back through my memories, seeking the dangerously handsome face of the man I could not seem to move on from. His memory haunted, and his face tortured me. I longed to be with him, to be held in his powerful embrace. Just to feel those lips on my own once again, I would do anything. In all honesty, that thought was one of the things that frightened me most lately.

  A warmth moved along my bare arm, and I froze. My eyes snapped open, but again, there was nothing, no one. I felt it again, like a finger of heat, the sensation trailed along my jaw and down my throat before leaving. My mind was buzzing, my eyes darting every which way. The space before me was empty. Not even the mist of a spirit was visible there. Trying to keep myself calm, I shook my head, refusing to believe it had been anything except my imagination. That’s when I heard it. The euphoric voice from my darkest days.

  “Valkyrie…” the sound whispered through the trees around me, stirring the wind, and rustling the leaves along the ground. They moved toward me, crackling and swishing in the soft current that carried them. I watched, partially in fascination, and partly in trepidation.

  “You have changed…why do I sense such a darkness in your soul, my beautiful Pyralis?”

  I swallowed. The voice, it sent my heart pounding and my thoughts swirling. It caressed my skin, and touched my soul. I knew this voice.

  “Fenix?”

  “Yes, Sweet Valkyrie. I am here.”

  Blinking, I didn’t at first know what to say or how to react. “I made you up, didn’t I? When I was trapped in that mine shaft. You’re nothing but a figment of my imagination…”

  “No, Valkyrie. I am not of your imagination. I am very much real. You have known me longer than you realize.”

  My mind tried frantically to understand what he meant, but I came up blank. I didn’t know who he was, and I didn’t remember anyone called Fenix from my past before my captivity with Desmond.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know who you are.”

  The voice laughed, and the sound echoed around me, sending a tingle down my spine. I had to admit, it did feel familiar to me. The phantom voice ate away at me, begging me to recognize it, but beyond the memory of my days chained and shackled, I was completely blank.

  “You spoke to me when I was poisoned, and held hostage by Desmond. I remember your voice from there, but that is the only memory of you I have.”

  Again, I felt the warmth across the back of my neck, as though someone had breathed their warm breath upon my skin. No one was there. It only made me wonder more and more if I were truly losing my mind. Wind buffeted against my nude form as I hunkered down, staring at the pile of glass shards laying on the ground before me.

  “Valkyrie, why do I sense such a divide within you? You have grown darker, and I can feel your loneliness.”

  I bared my fangs at the empty air around me. “Why did you leave me? You came to me when I needed someone, you spoke in the dark about how much I needed to fight, and then, when I was finally freed, you disappeared like the figment of imagination that you are.”

  When the voice released a long sigh, my hair lifted as though on a breeze. Warmth surrounded me, and despite my struggle to ignore the unknown presence, I found myself closing my eyes, imagining leaning into the arms I was so sure I could feel around me.

  “I have never left you, my dearest Valkyrie. I am always with you. The darkness in this world grows. Evil forces are awake, and you need to control your darker nature. If the world loses you now, so close to the brink of danger…”

  The male voice cut off as Rafael approached me. “Valkyrie, my child. What are you doing out here all alone?”

  I glanced around, curious to know if the Fiddler was aware of the voice I had heard. When he stared at me blankly, I sighed. No, of course not. Only I was crazy enough to be hearing voices.

  “Hey Rafael. I just needed some space. I had a lot on my mind after the attack on San Antonio.” Pausing, I remembered that I had a question for him. “Do you know anything about the Corvo, Rafael?”

  When his already aged face became far more drawn, I knew immediately that he did indeed know about the Corvo. The question was; would I get answers from him this time?

  Rafael sighed. Taking a seat on the moist grass beside me, he took a deep breath. “Yes. I am very familiar with the Corvo. Once, in fact, he was a Witch I called my friend. He was a very powerful Witch, descended from generations of Witches. Over time, he grew more and more corrupt until finally, the power of the darkness drove him mad. You see, Valkyrie, when you make a deal with death, you often end up dead, or worse.”

  I cocked a dark brow at the old man. He glanced sideways at me, a corner of his mouth twitching, and we shared a small laugh.

  “Ah, excuse me, Valkyrie. I forget that I speak to the daughter of death herself, sometimes.”

  Smiling good naturedly, I shrugged. “It’s okay Rafael. I’m not really sure what it means to be the daughter of death anyway. So, this Corvo, he was a Witch who became corrupted. What happened after that?”

  Rafael looked down at the grass. Picking up a long glistening green blade, he played with the flimsy plant for a moment before looking back up at me.

  “He made a pact with the demons of Hell. He changed from the man I knew to this…creature he is now. Not human, but not dead. He exists only on the powers of evil. From what I have heard, he is sent out to recruit for the rulers of the Hell.”

  I frowned deeply. My heart thumped almost audibly in my chest. “That must be why he’s after me.”

  Rafael’s eyes snapped to mine. His skin paled visibly. “After you, what do you mean? Valkyrie, you saw the Corvo?”

  I could see this news had distressed him intensely. I nodded. Part of me was ashamed. I knew he was after me because he thought I was evil. “Yes. In the Citadel. I fought him. He said that I would belong to them. That I was wicked. I am sorry we lost the battle Rafael. I am sorry I could not stop the portals from being opened.”

  Removing my gaze from his, I looked back down to the pile of bloodstained glass. Picking up a shard, I fingered it. When I felt a soft squeeze on my shoulder, I lifted my eyes, meeting the blue gaze of the man I had come to care a great deal about.

  “Valkyrie, know this, no matter what happens, you are the granddaughter of my heart. My blood runs in your veins through your mother’s. You mean a great deal to me, my child. There is something I must share with you. I was wrong. I made a mistake. This was not the final eclipse as I had foreseen. There is still one chance to stop all of this. There will be one more eclipse, and that is when Byron and his men will act.”

  I sank back on the grass in which I sat. Letting out a long breath, I shook my head. Looking up at him, I felt the tiniest bit of hope rekindle in my soul.

  “It’s not over yet then? We have not lost?” When he shook his head, I stood, smiling, and thanking our luck that we still had a chance to fix things. I was overwhelmed with a sense of optimism. Perhaps we could do this after all.

  “Come Valkyrie. Let’s get you some clothes. Chandler has probably created a canyon in the streets with his pacing.”

  The two of us shared a laugh. He had certainly painted the right picture of my strong brooding Gargoyle friend.

 
Walking through the darkened fields of the park with Rafael, I wondered if I should share with him the voice I thought I had heard prior to his arrival. After thinking it over for a while, I discarded the idea. I didn’t want him to worry that I was falling over the edge and plummeting into the psych ward.

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  8

  Conversations with Desmond

  Chandler was beyond irritated when I finally approached him. He was stalking up and down a street near the citadel, shadows cast over him from the taller buildings surrounding him. His wounds had healed, and his eyes were heated. Watching him from the dark alley where I stood, I smiled. I couldn’t help it. He really was a breathtaking creature. With his shoulders hunched up, and his face stuck in a scowl, I knew he was close to losing his temper and shifting to his Gargoyle form.

  Keeping myself half-hidden in the shadows, I continued to watch my friend. I didn’t know what had gotten him so fired up, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with it at the moment. In truth, seeing the wounds on him when I had emerged from the citadel, I had felt a surge of fear. I didn’t want to see anything happen to my friend, but with the constant battle I waged with myself, I wasn’t sure I could stop things from catapulting out of control anymore.

  Chandler glanced my way, and went still as stone. His eyes flashed and he smoothed his features. “Valkyrie, been there long?”

  I grinned. “Just long enough to watch you make a new path in the asphalt. So, Rafael tells me you’re pretty riled up about something. What is it?”

  His face turned savage again. “Fools, all of them! I won’t let you do it, do you hear? Why should they put you through such torture, hasn’t he done enough?”

  Now I was confused. “Chandler, just slow down okay? Tell me what you’re talking about. What do they want me to do?”

  His eyes were haunted, and I knew I was not the only one fighting the inner turmoil of my violent side. He seemed to struggle for a few moments in indecision, but in the end, he threw up his hands.