Descent

by Charlotte McConaghy

  ‘Did he ever hurt you?’ Altor asked softly.

  Jane shrugged. ‘It’s fine,’ she said firmly. ‘I’m not hung up over it so let’s change the subject.’ She risked a glance at Fern. He was staring straight ahead, his jaw clenched hard.

  ‘Things in Paragor are different,’ she went on quickly. ‘When I was on Earth, things felt differently. Everything is bigger here. I feel as though I lived my whole life in a state of numbness, right up until I came here. Like grey has turned to colours. Everything is intensified.’

  She smiled weakly, feeling silly. ‘I must sound like a nut-job. It probably makes no sense at all to you.’

  ‘You always sound like a “nut-job”, but it makes perfect sense,’ Altor told her.

  Jane smiled. ‘Well I also miss phones and fridges, and microwaves, and proper lights that actually allow you to see things, and movies, and parties and cars.’ She looked at Bridie. ‘I really miss cars.’

  Altor was smiling, but Fern didn’t seem to be listening anymore. Jane wished she hadn’t told him. The last thing she wanted was pity. ‘Fern,’ she said and waited for him to meet her eyes. ‘Trust me, there are way worse things to be worrying about. It’s fine.’

  He considered this. ‘Care not for our own darkness, but that which surrounds those we love.’

  Jane felt a rushing sense of recognition as she stared at him, astounded.

  ‘A famous quote from Amara,’ Altor explained and Jane exhaled—Fern hadn’t remembered it, he just knew the quote like everyone did. But there was something strange about the way he was looking at her.

  ‘But then,’ Altor went on, ‘she killed herself didn’t she? So I suppose even she wasn’t selfless enough to ignore her own pain forever. Death was better.’

  Jane coloured as she clutched the reins. She did not look away from Fern, but realised instead that he was staring at her as though ... well it almost seemed like he knew. But that was ridiculous. Shaking her head, she turned to look ahead once more. The rocky road had brought them into a copse of trees and she welcomed the shade gladly.

  ‘Where were you, Jane?’ Altor asked suddenly. ‘Where did you go in the sky?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said truthfully. ‘I really don’t. Somewhere outside this world. Somewhere I wasn’t myself. Nothing could ever make me go back.’

  There was a long silence.

  ‘I wish I didn’t have to go back,’ Altor said suddenly, surprising them both with how much he seemed to be sharing today.

  ‘Why?’

  He shrugged. ‘I honestly cannot think of anything worse than having to take up my place on the throne. Being responsible for myself is bad enough without having to worry about an entire country.’

  ‘But Satine’s queen!’ Jane replied. ‘It’s not like she’s going anywhere. You’ve got plenty of time.’

  ‘Time?’ he repeated bitterly, his lip curled, making her regret her words.

  ‘You’re mad,’ Fern said, shaking his head. ‘I’ve been waiting to be king my whole life. My father seems to have a little of my immortality though. Don’t get me wrong,’ he added quickly. ‘I love my father. But he’s not the king he once was. Old age is playing with his mind.’

  ‘Yes,’ Altor said slowly, ‘But time has no meaning for an immortal prince. What benefit do you think a man could do on the throne when he has only a few years at most, and not enough time to raise any heirs?’

  No one replied. It was becoming clear to Jane that she hadn’t realised how bad things really were for Altor.

  ‘I’m raving,’ he said suddenly, kicking his horse forward. ‘Ignore me.’

  ‘Don’t worry, we usually do,’ Fern told him.

  ‘So how many more protectors do we have left in the pack?’ Jane asked, changing the subject.

  ‘Four.’

  ‘Is that all? What are we going to do?’

  ‘It seems to me that the people here should start thinking of a way to protect themselves instead of relying on aid from us,’ Altor murmured.

  Jane stared back at him, stunned. ‘Are you serious?’

  He shrugged, but he was still looking at her closely, his eyes alight with amusement. ‘We have to fend for ourselves. Why shouldn’t they?’

  ‘We live in cities with protection, Altor!’ Jane hissed. ‘Those people have no way to fend for themselves! They aren’t spoilt little brats from a royal family!’

  Altor smiled.

  ‘Jane,’ Fern interrupted. ‘He’s teasing you.’

  Jane stopped and closed her mouth. ‘This isn’t a game, Altor,’ she snapped. Don’t joke about stuff like that.’

  ‘You sound like your little red-haired friend.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You know ... the other Stranger.’

  ‘You mean Mia?’

  ‘That’s the one!’ He nodded, as if he’d forgotten her name.

  ‘How do you know what she sounds like?’ Jane asked, unaccountably irritated.

  Altor shrugged. ‘She crossed into my arms. I had a little fun teaching her that the world is a game.’

  Jane pulled her horse to a sudden, painful halt. ‘ What?’ she hissed, feeling her blood begin to boil. ‘What did you do to her, Altor?’

  The Black Prince was looking altogether far too amused. ‘I just taught her to loosen up a bit, that’s all. That boy she seems to be courting is nowhere near good enough for her.’

  ‘How dare you!’ Jane screamed. She slid off the horse and punched his leg as hard as she could. Altor winced and dismounted to face her. Jane could barely control herself; the idea that he had somehow hurt one of her friends—or two of them—

  ‘You bastard! How could you do that?’

  Fern slid from his horse and quickly restrained her.

  ‘She’s fine, Jane,’ Altor said finally.

  Jane stopped, breathing heavily, and their eyes locked. Fern was still holding her by the arms.

  ‘If you ever hurt one of my friends again,’ she said softly, her tone flat and deadly, ‘you and I are through. Do you understand me?’

  Altor gave a small nod, something in his eyes softening slightly.

  Jane shrugged Fern away and stalked back to her horse, pulling herself up, not at all gracefully. ‘You set out to hurt other people, Altor, because you find it amusing,’ she snapped. ‘But one of these days you’re going to see your actions in a new light, and you’re going to loathe yourself for it.’

  The boys mounted their horses once more, and silently, the three of them began riding again. Time passed, and Jane felt her anger melt away. Mia had seemed fine when they’d spoken, so there was probably nothing to get worked up over. She just hated to think of the girl’s innocence being taken advantage of by someone as dangerous as Altor.

  Suddenly it was cold on the plain. Jane pulled her cloak out of the pack behind her and drew it around herself, struggling to do so while still managing the stupid horse.

  Fern reached over to control Bridie. Their eyes met, and Jane burst into laughter at his exasperated expression. It was in that moment that she felt a sudden slice of noise in her mind.

  Jane? Are you there? Anna’s voice was hysterical, making the contact between their minds painful.

  What’s wrong? she asked quickly, wincing at the ache in her head.

  Something’s happened, Jane...

  What?

  It’s Luca—there’s something wrong with him. He ... he’s-...

  ‘Anna? What’s happened?’ Jane yelled, panic rising in her gut. The boys had stopped riding and were staring at her as if she’d gone mad. She realised she’d said the words out loud and closed her mouth, speaking only in her mind.

  Calm down and tell me what’s wrong, she said firmly as she felt Anna burst into tears.

  He’s been tortured—

  And that was all Jane heard, for she was riding as fast as she could. God, she thought, not Luca. Not Luca.

  She had known the instant she made contact with him that something had happened to
his mind. He was tormented. But she hadn’t done a thing about it, worrying only about her own problems. And now it might be too late.

  Her best friend, and it might be too late.

  Harry had taught himself to sleep during the day. It was the sensible thing to do when nights were spent battling foes in the sky. He’d been prepared for the violence, but not for the exhaustion that set in after every night. He had not been touched by a Valkyrie, but his dreams were far from normal. Dark, bloody wings, and screaming so loud it deafened him. Harry knew it shouldn’t be possible for him to hear angel’s screams; human ears should be broken by them. And yet he heard them, every night. That afternoon, as he slept through his last hours of rest before taking up his position in the sight-room, a woman walked in his dreams with him, casting a light over the winged creatures that surrounded him, making them disappear.

  She was tall, and more beautiful than any creature he’d ever seen, with eyes that glimmered like diamonds and an unearthly mist that floated around her glowing body.

  The sudden absence of chaos was like a tidal wave of relief for Harry.

  ‘What are they?’ he asked, his voice little more than a whisper. ‘I know they aren’t Valkyries.’

  The woman tilted her head. ‘Archangels,’ she answered finally, confirming his fears. ‘Dark and violent warriors of vengeance.’

  ‘Why do I see them?’

  ‘Because your fate, Harry, and the fate of your five friends, is tied irrevocably to the creatures.’

  He shivered, feeling a deep sense of dread.

  ‘But that’s not why I am here,’ the woman said.

  ‘You have forgotten, Harry. Forgotten everything that once meant so much to you.’

  He stared at her and the edges of his vision seemed to blur, the colours of the dream intensifying with her gaze. ‘What do you mean? I don’t understand.’

  She tilted her head to look more closely at him. ‘You don’t remember.’

  ‘I don’t remember what?’

  ‘How your heart used to beat,’ the woman whispered. Harry felt a shiver slide over his skin. He felt frightened, all of a sudden. ‘You don’t remember what it was like when your heart beat only for another.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ he repeated.

  ‘You will remember one day,’ she told him. ‘Just as you have yet to understand what it is to love, so too will you learn what it is to wait. You will have her again one day, Harry. You just have to find her. You just have to remember.’

  And then she was gone. The dream dissolved, and as he woke, he realised suddenly who she’d been. The love goddess, Freyja. Lying in his palette of straw he stared at the stone ceiling and thought hard. He was no stranger to weird dreams. Yet somehow, something about this had changed something inside him. It was like a light had flicked on.

  He didn’t understand what had happened. Nor could he explain to anyone why he had to ride from the watchtower, a sense of danger inside him, a need to be with at least one of his best friends. Jack noticed the change in him when he returned to Amalia, but Harry could not describe where it came from. He was a full man. Full to the brim.

  Lighter, darker. Happier, sadder.

  Full.

  And then came the news from a fortress called Karangul and everything changed once more. The world dimmed a little.

  Part 4

  Harry

  Harry woke with a start, his heart thumping. It took a moment for him to calm down, to realise that it was just a dream. Slowly he breathed, closing his eyes against the memory of the nightmare.

  He opened his eyes and rolled over to look at his wife. She shivered very slightly and he reached down to the end of their bed to pull a light sheet over her. The window banged gently as the summer breeze entered the room and the curtains billowed lazily. He looked at her hand, clenched into a fist even in sleep, and he knew that she was dreaming restlessly too. He wished there could be a night, just one night, when she might sleep soundly, without the grief that seemed to follow her.

  He watched her chest rise and fall with the rhythm of her breathing, finding calm in the simple nearness of her. After a while she stirred, opened her eyes and looked at him sleepily.

  ‘Why are you awake?’ she asked, rubbing her eyes.

  ‘I don’t know. I keep having dreams about you, your face, and not being able to remember who you are.’

  She propped herself up on her elbows, yawning. ‘You remember me now though, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course,’ he sighed, ‘but ... it’s just strange, that’s all. It’s unsettling.’

  ‘Have you spoken to any of the others?’ she asked.

  ‘There’s no need to worry them over a dream,’ he murmured. ‘Amara’s busy with her own problems just now.’ He shook his head. ‘They all are.’

  ‘They are still your friends,’ she urged softly. ‘And you need each other more than ever right now.’

  ‘I spoke to them at the council last week.’

  ‘About war, and demons. You never just talk to them like you used to.’

  Harry sighed. ‘I know, love. There just isn’t time anymore. Not with all that we have to face.’

  He saw her shiver again. ‘Are we ... are we safe, Harry?’

  Harry scratched his beard. ‘I don’t know,’ he told her eventually. ‘He is powerful. More powerful than any of us have ever imagined one man being.’

  ‘He’s no man,’ she said darkly. ‘He is a demon.’

  Harry nodded. ‘Maybe so. In any case, it is going to take a lot to defeat him.’

  ‘Can we do it?’

  It was a question they had all asked Harry. He was the army commander of the High Country—he was expected to know the answer. And if he didn’t know the answer then he was expected to make one up and ensure it was true.

  This was the first time she’d asked him though. The first time his wife had voiced any doubt. He frowned, thinking about the question, as he did every moment of every day.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ he said finally, the first time he’d offered anyone the real truth.

  ‘At least we’re together,’ she said quietly, and her courage made him smile with gratitude that she was there, in his house, in his arms.

  He leant forward and kissed her, wondering, not for the first time, how he’d been lucky enough to find her.

  She pulled away from him, tears on her cheeks. There was hurt underlying all of their words. Underlying everything.

  ‘It’s all right,’ he said quickly, as gently as he could manage. ‘This is okay.’

  She shook her head. ‘It’s not though. What if it happens again?’ Her voice was terrified. He closed his eyes, then realised that he should not have broken the connection. He looked at her, urging her with his eyes not to be afraid.

  ‘We had no hand in it, sweetheart,’ he said, his voice rasping. ‘It was not our fault!’

  ‘Then why?’ she whispered.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he answered, thinking of all the lost children, more painful than he could have imagined, more so because he had to look at that pain etched on his wife’s face every day.

  ‘Darling,’ he said, ‘You cannot think that it is in any way our fault. We have nothing to be punished for. It is a terrible thing that happened. But if we let it ruin us, then we do not deserve a child.’

  She stared at him, the tears brimming in her eyes. He didn’t know what to say. All the words in the world had already been spoken, and they hadn’t helped one bit. So in the end he just held her, and kissed her on the forehead, and didn’t let go, vowing that if ever they got through this, they’d be the best parents any child ever had.

  Chapter 30

  The sun rose slowly over the town of Torr, draping it in a fog that floated in from the sea. Ria lay in bed, waiting for something to tell her she needed to rise. She didn’t want to face the man she had so cruelly withheld herself from last night.

  Sighing, she realised she wouldn’t be able to escape him forever. Not whil
e he was living in her house. Ria dressed and went to the dining room, observing with unease that he wasn’t there, nor in his bedroom.

  Before she’d had a chance to check elsewhere, there was a piercing shriek, and the ground began to shake. Ria fell to her knees, but the shudders didn’t last, and after a moment the world was silent again.

  ‘Hello?’ called a voice from outside. Ria stood quickly and went to the door. A woman was running up the side of the yard, hair dishevelled, looking pale and drawn. And sitting behind her was—a dragon. The very same dragon that two years ago had taken Ria into its claws and almost dropped her from the sky. Ria swore and jumped back inside, her heart pounding.

  ‘Gods, Anna,’ she hissed, slamming the door as the blonde woman entered the house. ‘Don’t bring that thing near me!’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Anna panted. Ria forgot her fear when she looked into the Stranger’s eyes. They were full of panic, and all of a sudden, Ria knew something very bad had happened.

  ‘Where’s Luca?’ Anna asked roughly. ‘I spoke to him last night and he said he was here, but ... but there was something in his mind ... there’s something wrong.’

  Ria stared at her, horrified at having to be the one to say it aloud.

  ‘Accolon gave him a job—’

  ‘What job?’ Anna asked frantically.

  ‘He was sent on a mission to kill Vezzet.’

  ‘ What? Why in god’s name would he do that?’ Anna snarled.

  ‘Because Luca is an assassin.’

  Anna stared at Ria ‘Why would you say such hurtful rubbish?’ Anna snapped angrily. ‘He doesn’t know the first thing about killing!’

  Ria looked at her, letting the truth sink in. There was a long silence, then all of a sudden there were tears in the Stranger’s eyes.

  Ria felt her own eyes prickle. ‘He has been killing people for the past year and a half. Accolon made it so. He saw a talent and he crafted it to his own benefit.’

  ‘This doesn’t make any sense...’ Anna whispered, her tears spilling down her cheeks. ‘Why would Accolon do this? How could he—he’ll be killed!’ she gasped. ‘He’s gone to Karangul, alone, to kill a man that has an army of soldiers protecting him!’