The Revealed (The Lakewood Series Book 2)

by Sarah Kleck

  This cruelty would end once I’d saved Jared. I swore on my life!

  I’d already penetrated several hundred yards into the tent city when I had to evade another group of damnati. I was pressing myself against a linen tent when a sudden, intense tumult erupted inside.

  “I’ll stab you,” a raspy voice said. Then a lean damnatus tumbled out of the tent.

  Another followed with a raised knife. “You pig! You stole from me!” he roared.

  The first one scrambled back, became entangled in his cloak, and went down. The hood slipped from his head. I was shocked that he had most of his hair left. His face still appeared human, the color of his cheeks almost rosy. Merely a blistering, boil-like wound from his left ear to the corner of his mouth betrayed his fate. As with Felix, the transformation had not progressed far. Looking for help, he turned around while his knife-wielding adversary calmly approached. At that moment, he saw me in the shadows of the tent. He stopped, astonished to find me there, raised his arm, and pointed silently with his finger.

  Fuck! Couldn’t the other have just stuck him?

  “Well, well, what do we have here?” said the knife-wielder, happily excited while scanning me from tip to toe. The one lying on the ground scrambled to his feet and fled, tripping over his cloak again.

  “What hole did you crawl out from, my beauty?” the pursuer asked, slowly coming toward me. “Hey, guys! Look what I found!” he yelled, and a moment later, I was surrounded by damnati. Splendid—so much for staying unnoticed. But here I was.

  “Take me to Morgana,” I demanded.

  The knife-wielder burst out laughing, baring a row of rotten tooth stumps. “Who do you think you are, to make demands?” he taunted.

  Well, I thought, a little demonstration couldn’t hurt. I felt the stinking broth of this scarface’s body but only focused on his skull. Within fractions of a second, his head boiled and burst into a mess, like a melon hitting the pavement. Then his headless body sank to its knees before tipping over. A nervous murmur went through the crowd. They weren’t laughing now.

  “Take me to Morgana,” I ordered more forcefully.

  Keeping a safe distance, several damnati eventually complied. A small crowd led me through the torch- and fire-lit tent city. Hundreds stared at me. After a while, they stopped and opened a narrow passage leading to the entrance of the largest tent in the camp. A cloaked figure tried to raise the flap to announce my arrival, but I pushed him aside and entered unbidden.

  There she was. Morgana stood in the middle of the tent, before a wooden cross about ten feet high to which the body of a young man was lashed. It took my brain a moment to absorb this horrific sight.

  I had heard him scream. I had imagined what she would do to him—dozens of times and in a hundred different ways. I was braced for her hurting him. But . . . what was happening in reality made me falter.

  Jared’s hands and feet were bound, Christ-like, with leather straps to the cross. His torso was naked. His head lay limp on his chest. His disheveled hair was sweaty. Stubble covered his jaw. Sweat ran down his body. He groaned with unimaginable pain while Morgana, hands spread as if in meditation, absorbed a white-shining light ray—delicate as a freshly spun thread of molten silver—through her fingertips. The shimmering white thread came directly from the highest point between the rib arcs in Jared’s chest. Morgana was gradually taking it in. Her face showed how much pleasure and satisfaction it gave her.

  Jared cried out again. But it was more than a scream; it penetrated to the bone and ended with a drained breath as his eyes rolled back.

  I choked back a cry of horror. Jared!

  I took this in so fast that neither he nor Morgana had time to become aware of my presence.

  I acted reflexively. Instinctively. I charged Morgana, let my magic flow, and thrust my hands forward as if I wished to drive her away. A bright green energy field burst, shield-like, as fast as sound from my palms—oh, that one’s new—pulled the black witch off her feet, and hurled her into the farthest corner of the huge tent.

  Now everybody was aware of me, and I had their attention. I ran toward Jared. He barely raised his head to look at me, but his eyes widened when he recognized me. Thousands of emotions were written on his face. Surprise, joy, love, worry, despair . . . hatred. I looked into his eyes. “Jared!” My voice sounded desperate. I wanted to tell him it would be all right, that I was here to save him, that I loved him above all else.

  “Evelyn,” Jared faintly whispered, surprised and anguished.

  Then he closed his eyes. “You shouldn’t have come.” His voice was distorted by the pain.

  Morgana, still lying in the corner, looked around, stunned. Seeing me, the expression on her face suddenly changed. Her enraged cry almost burst my eardrums. She stood at once and swept away the tent with a single motion of her hand so that we stood under the open sky. It wasn’t for a better view, but for the damnati, who by now were surrounding us by the hundreds. Her army stood ready. She nodded to them, and they rushed me. At least, they tried to. I killed any who attempted to come near me or Jared. I raged like a fury, evaporating some damnati and leaving others in piles of burst, frozen, and shriveled corpses. Jared watched in amazement.

  Morgana, too, seemed to find my abilities difficult to believe. Angry and aghast, she pressed her lips together. But then she composed herself. A mist crept over the ground and curled around my legs.

  “Well, whom do we have here?” Morgana said exuberantly, as if she were greeting a long overdue guest. She put a lot of effort into coming across as superior, even though I had just forced her into a corner and paved a hundred-foot radius with damnatus corpses.

  For a moment, it looked as if she were going to say something. Then she nodded to her remaining subjects. A murmur of discomfort went through the crowd as they looked at their fallen comrades. They seemed less aggressive at the sight of their burst, frozen, and shriveled fellows. Even though they had a thousand-to-one advantage.

  I looked around with raised eyebrows, spoiling for a fight. None dared oppose me.

  Morgana was infuriated. “So, you made it through the fog,” she began, clapping her hands as if congratulating me. She chose not to comment on her subjects’ disobedience for the time being.

  “And I see you’ve found . . . Nimue’s magic.”

  Now it was my turn to grin mockingly. Apparently, I made Morgana feel insecure, no matter how much she tried to sound superior and unaffected. My magic stirred inside me, as if it were yearning for a duel with Morgana.

  “Found?” I repeated. That sounded as if I had accidently tripped over it by dumb luck. Really? Oops, what’s that? Nimue’s magic? Shoot, I might as well take it with me.

  A hint of a smile crossed Jared’s tense face. My new abilities seemed to have flabbergasted him. Perhaps he, too, was burning to know how I’d done it. Morgana pressed her lips together for a fraction of a second, and then she put on her haughty smile again.

  “Now, show us what you can do,” she challenged me and puffed her chest. As she had during our last encounter, she raised her right arm and slowly formed a fist. Her gaze was highly focused. I felt her fingers around my throat as if she stood right in front of me and not a dozen yards away. She squeezed. Like a natural reflex, my magic stemmed hers. The pressure on my throat gradually lessened and eventually disappeared. It was as if a mechanism had been set in motion. I barely needed to make an effort.

  Morgana opened her eyes in surprise and let her arm sink. She could be forgiven for being a bit rusty. For centuries she had only used her magic on ordinary people and mostly harmless magical beings. Opposing the new Lady of the Lake required more effort than she had just mustered. Jared attentively watched what was happening. He seemed impressed and worried at the same time.

  Morgana needed a moment to control herself, but then she put on her artificial smile and turned to Jared. I knew immediately what she intended. She was going to make him pay. A silver thread broke through his chest and found i
ts way to Morgana. He was immediately overcome by another wave of pain. Tormented, he threw his head back, closed his eyes, and clenched his teeth until his jaw muscles stood out. He was making every effort not to scream. It was unbearable to watch.

  I raised my hands without hesitation and released energy in such a burst that I cried out when the powerful force field left my body. Morgana had anticipated this reaction and raised her hand in a defensive gesture. But she had seriously underestimated me. My power was somewhat broken by her protective shield, but the force of the impact was strong enough to make her fly through the air like a rag doll until she landed on the muddy ground. Dirt splattered in all directions. Two damnati rushed to help her up.

  “Let go of me, you cretins!” she barked, shaking off their scar-covered hands.

  As if pulled by invisible strings, she righted herself without placing her hands against the ground. Burning rage showed in her flawless face. The damnati looked, discomfited, back and forth between Morgana and me. She quickly came at me, paying no attention to her disheveled hair and muddy gown.

  “How dare you!” she screamed, exasperated. Her sharp teeth clenched, she raised a hand against me as if to simply sweep me away. I had no time to react. Before I knew it, her mighty dark energy had seized me and hurled me against a tree. The impact knocked the wind out of me. Morgana smiled and brushed her tangled black hair back. Then she went toward Jared and raised her hand, and another wave of pain overcame him. This time the silver thread was more like a rope—she seemed to be in a hurry. A moment later I was on my feet again and hurled my magic at her with all the force I could muster.

  Morgana looked up. Suddenly, she was gone. Where she had stood, only a thin black fog remained. I hastily looked around. There she was! She had materialized again only a few yards from where she had disappeared. How the devil did she do that? She quickly went to work on Jared again, and I focused my magic and hurled it at her as fast and hard as I could. The hatred I felt at seeing Jared in pain multiplied the effect, and it hit her with full force. Pivoting on the spot, Morgana was again hurled into the air and came crashing down. A few damnati fled into the forest.

  “Come back!” Morgana commanded, gasping. Two damnati stopped, then rejoined the others. Three of them were determined to desert. Morgana sat up and made a sweeping motion with her hand toward the escapees. I heard a short croaking before the three scarfaces went down in unnatural contortions and lay motionless on the ground.

  I used the commotion to rush unnoticed across the space, quickly undid the ropes from Jared’s wrists, and gently lowered him from the cross. I almost collapsed under his weight. Then I laid his limp body on the ground and unbound his feet.

  “Water,” he moaned but failed to keep his eyes open. Only now did I notice his cracked lips. His skin felt like brittle paper. He was completely dehydrated. He must not have had anything to drink for days. I quickly pulled out my bottle, put it to his lips, and gave him a big gulp to drink. His mouth was so dry that half of it spilled. He got some down his throat on the second try and coughed. On the third try Jared swallowed a small amount, then more, and finally emptied half the bottle.

  “Evelyn,” he said with a faint voice, then blinked strenuously. “How did you . . . you can’t . . . the pact. You shouldn’t have come.” A tear ran over his cheek.

  “Don’t say that.” I made an effort to sound confident. “We’ll make it.”

  But . . . would we?

  Jared opened his mouth a little to contradict me, then closed it again. “I love you,” he said. “More than I would have thought possible.” Then he closed his eyes.

  Morgana rallied her troops and brushed herself off before coming after me again.

  “How dare you, you bitch!” she yelled. She squinted maliciously, then hurled a powerful curse at me. Then, as before, she disappeared into a black mist, only to reemerge in front of me in the blink of an eye. With lightning speed, I took a defensive posture against the powerful curse she immediately hurled.

  The thought of Jared lying helplessly on the ground triggered a primal instinct inside me. I raised my hands. There was a deafening bang when Morgana’s dark magic hit mine. I managed to deflect most of the curse, but the force I had to apply knocked me off my feet. Exhausted, I fell on my hands and knees, desperately trying to breathe and ignore the aftereffects of the pain. Jared moved beside me protectively but was so weak he could barely sit up. Encouraged by my clearly weakened state, Morgana seemed wildly determined to finish this. Again she sent a powerful wave of dark magic in our direction. Again I defensively lifted my hands. Morgana’s curse hit me with maybe a tenth of its original force. It was enough to numb me. Then, unbearable pain exploded in every fiber of my body, as if poison was corroding my cells.

  The dark witch raised her chin in triumph. A satisfied, smug expression spread across her face. The surrounding cloak-wearers burst out in ringing laughter. She pointed her finger at Jared and me. “That’s what you get, slut!”

  Morgana extended her hand at Jared. She lifted the other defensively at me.

  Determined to give it my all, I bundled my magic, focused, and hurled it toward her. A golden-green light flashed from my fingertips at the very same moment a dark fog, black as ink, emerged from Morgana’s hands. They met in midair. Suddenly my hands began to vibrate as if electrified. How long could I hold firm?

  I felt my feet leave the ground. Something was lifting me. An invisible force. I was floating in the air—as was Morgana.

  The vibration crept across my hands into my arms.

  “No matter what you do,” Morgana said firmly across the energy beams buzzing in the air, “the boy and I have a pact. He consented to leave me his magic in exchange for your soul. You cannot save him. Whoever breaks a magic oath dies.”

  Her words struck my heart. She was right. I was powerless against the magic pact. My arms trembled. We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity.

  What was I to do?

  What could I do?

  I knew I would not be able to resist for long. Morgana shot a second, at least equally strong, fog beam in my direction, and I was swept away. I didn’t stand a chance. Her own magic and that part of Jared’s she’d already made her own were just too much. She was too powerful. Morgana’s poison ran in my arteries and spread through my body, unstoppable.

  Roaring, malicious laughter sounded from the crowd of scarfaced onlookers.

  I panted with exhaustion.

  “Let’s bring this to an end, my boy,” Morgana said, as if she were about to do Jared a favor. Her black eyes were empty and pitiless. Numbness and the feeling that it was just a bad dream took hold of me. Morgana extended an open hand to Jared as if she were asking him for a dance. Although she did not touch him, Jared’s face immediately distorted into a grimace of pain. A white light beam, thick and firm, burst out from his naked chest and shot directly into the fingertips of Morgana’s extended hand. She passionately moaned while Jared twisted with pain. I was still lying completely exhausted on the ground while Morgana’s dark magic continued to corrode my veins like an insatiable cancer.

  Was this it? Would we die now? Had it all been for nothing?

  No! I wouldn’t allow it! Not as long as there was the tiniest spark of life in me.

  I breathed in as if having a seizure, breathed against the pain, and raised myself. Morgana looked at me, astounded.

  “Leave. Him. Alone!” I screamed. Then I bundled the magic inside me into a pulsing sphere, pushed it at her with all my might, and . . . forced the witch to her knees. The link broke, and I immediately felt relief. My magic reclaimed my body and pushed Morgana’s poison from my cells. I rushed over to Jared. He was lying on the ground with his eyes almost closed.

  “Jared.” My voice sounded remote. I took his face into my hands. “Jared.”

  I cast a quick glance at Morgana and saw that she was losing control. She charged at me, floating in the air, her black eyes narrowed. I immediately got up. Determi
ned, I stepped into the dark witch’s path, unyielding. I would never again allow a loved one to be taken from me. Never again! Let her come. I was ready.

  The energy fields collided in a gigantic explosion. First there was a deafening burst. Then there was a penetrating rumbling, like metal bending underwater. The pressure wave pushed me off my feet, boomed across the clearing, blew tents away, swept damnati across the ground, and snapped trees. The impact’s intensity hurled Morgana into the air. She was flung several yards over the camp and crashed into a tent. The colors dispersed in a mighty aftershock, like pulsing shields.

  Black, green-blue, and . . . white.

  White?

  There weren’t just two fields of energy—there were three!

  I turned around.

  “Jared! What have you done?” I shouted, horrified.

  Half lying, half kneeling, both palms held up toward Morgana, his face distorted by the exertion . . .

  I froze when I understood. He had hurled the last remainder of his magic at Morgana.

  Then he collapsed.

  CHAPTER 11

  Jared didn’t move.

  I hunched over him, shook his shoulders. Panicking. Helpless. I lifted his head into my lap. I was trembling with fear and desperation as I felt his neck for a pulse.

  Come on! Come on!

  Nothing.

  The damnati were approaching. I threw myself over Jared’s body and snarled. Whoever wanted to harm him had to get past me first. I was wildly determined to let none of them live.

  My fingers tirelessly wandered over his neck.

  No . . . no . . . this cannot be . . .

  My hands pressed on his chest.

  One . . . two . . . three . . .

  I wrestled with panic and tried to keep an even rhythm.

  One . . . two . . . three . . .