Ahead of us were the forests that surrounded Hellswan. Moving rapidly through the trees came billowing white clouds. I thought it might be a strange low-hanging storm, but as I watched flames appeared to lick at the tops of the trees—but they weren’t red or yellow, but a bright bluish white. The white flames had ravaged the forest in their wake, leaving nothing but frosty, dead-limbed trees where flames still danced on their topmost branches. I had never seen anything like it in my life, and I stared dumbstruck as the flames flew closer toward us.
“Change of plan,” Varga asserted calmly.
Before I knew what was happening, he leaned down and wrapped his arm around my waist. In one rapid movement he hoisted me up on his bull-horse, setting me down in front of him.
The bull-horse reared up again, and he spun the creature around in the opposite direction. I could see the intense and determined look in his eyes as he bent low over me, kicking the horse with his back legs as we galloped off—getting as much distance as we could between us and the approaching ice inferno.
Hazel
We headed toward the Viking graveyard, flying as low as we could in the hope of spotting Benedict wandering in the forest. The air was mild at the Fells, but as we approached Hellswan it became still and cold. We circled lower when we approached the cove, and as soon as we caught sight of the muddy sands, a brilliant flash of light momentarily blinded us. A second later, white flames leapt up from the surrounding trees, billowing dry smoke toward us that smacked into my face like shards of glass.
“What on earth is that?” I gasped, leaning forward on the neck of the vulture as I looked down at the forest below.
“I have no idea,” Tejus replied in wonder.
He turned the bird away from the oncoming flame, but it seemed to chase us—ice-cold, bluish flickers leaping from one branch to the next, quickly surrounding the cove.
“We need to turn around!” Tejus yelled over the crackling of the leaves and the high-pitched blast of the fire.
“No!” I cried out. I couldn’t leave Benedict down there. “We have to land—please, Tejus!”
The flames leapt higher still, and Tejus pulled the bird upward.
“You’ll get us killed, Hazel,” he growled, holding on to me tightly as the vulture rose.
“I can’t leave him!”
“We must!” he shouted, trying to steer the bird away from the cove in the direction of the castle. The bird screamed. It was the most atrocious sound I’d ever heard, more human than animal, and it ripped right through my eardrums.
“Damn!” Tejus yelled, tightening his grip on me as the bird spun out of control. I looked over at its wings, expecting flames to be spreading across its giant feathers. Instead I saw that the tips had frozen, their color turning an icy white, like a frost that was steadily moving up the wing to the creature’s body.
“Hazel.” Tejus spoke with quiet control in my ear. “You need to hold on. I can’t control the bird—it’s in too much pain. Whatever you do, hold on.”
I clutched at the feathers beneath my fingers, my heart racing as the bird flew uncontrollably, spinning and whirring into the sky. I shut my eyes, too scared to see the ground come rushing up to meet us. Its horrific scream continued, and in trying to block it out I became aware only of Tejus’s firm chest behind me and the vice-like grip he held me in.
“We’re going to land,” Tejus called out to me, but I could barely hear him over the rushing wind as the bird picked up speed.
We were too low. Branches swiped at my face as the bird juddered, smacking into the tops of the trees. My stomach jolted as we suddenly dropped lower, free-falling in the air. The bird gave another thunderous squawk, and we hit the ground. I nearly went flying off the creature, but Tejus held on tight around my waist, yanking me back toward him.
A moment later we were still. All I could hear was the sound of my and Tejus’s rasping breaths, our thundering hearts and the soft whimpers of the bird beneath us. Slowly I opened my eyes. The surroundings looked familiar, but in my shock I couldn’t quite place them.
“Where…where are we?” I stuttered.
“Ghouls’ Ridge,” Tejus breathed.
I looked around once again and saw the precipice of the mountain to my right where the trials had taken place, and the steep drop on either side—which I knew was miles deep, ending in swirling mists and jagged rocks.
“That was lucky,” I managed, feeling sick at how close we’d come to falling off the edge. We wouldn’t have survived the fall.
“It was.”
Keeping his arms wrapped around me, Tejus heaved us both off the bird. It gave another whimper as my feet gingerly touched the solid earth beneath us. When he released me, my head spun, and it took me a few moments of deep breathing to right myself.
“Are you hurt?” Tejus asked, taking my shoulders in his hands.
“I’m fine, just a bit dizzy.”
“You’ve been cut. It was probably the branches.” Tejus ran his thumb over my bottom lip. He was right. I could taste the coppery tang of blood in my mouth and felt a sharp pain running from my cheekbone down to my lips.
I gazed up into Tejus’s concerned eyes, and a jolt of adrenaline shot through my body. The pain of my cut receded completely as I focused on his part-open mouth and dark hollows of his jaw. He ran his thumb up the length of the cut gently, removing the blood. When he had finished, he took his hand away. His thumb was covered in the bright red smear of my blood. He placed it between his own lips and slowly sucked the liquid away.
Oh… my.
I felt like molten liquid was running through my veins. My throat ran dry and I was incapable of doing anything but staring back at Tejus, completely oblivious to anything but his presence and the mind-blowing effect he was having on me.
“You’re trembling, are you cold?” he asked, moving his hands to apply pressure on my forearms.
“Um…no,” I replied, confused. I hadn’t realized I was trembling. I looked down at my body, detecting a slight shaking of my hands. I didn’t think it had anything to do with the temperature though.
Tejus looked back at the forest, and I could see the dry white smoke of the flames moving closer.
“I need to build a barrier. I don’t think there’s any other way out.”
I looked over to the pathway of the precipice. On the other side of the ridge, the forest was the same—white flames engulfing everything that grew there. We were surrounded.
“Okay.” I nodded hastily. “Do you need me?”
“I think so; do you have the energy?” he asked.
I felt like I had bundles of energy; the adrenaline from the flight and Tejus’s touch had made my brain running into overdrive.
“Yes, it’s fine,” I replied. “Take what you need.”
He pulled me closer toward him, bringing my head to his chest.
“It’s easier this way,” he muttered as I stared up at him, puzzled by his sudden willingness for proximity between us—normally we kept a distance from one another when he syphoned off me.
I felt the familiar, feathery-light touches of Tejus’s mind meeting mine. This time, we didn’t project images or visions to one another. As soon as his mind touched mine, I realized how tired Tejus was: I hadn’t been aware of the last few days taking its toll on him—he had obviously hidden it well. I opened my mind up as much as I could, focusing on sending all the energy I could muster up toward him.
He exhaled softly as my excess energy was syphoned. I could feel the draining of it throughout my body, but it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation—more like taking a warm bath, relaxing all my muscles and removing all my pent-up tension.
Eventually the sensation faded, and I looked around me. A thin, shimmering globe surrounded us, making me feel like I was standing in a large bubble. Tejus stepped back, releasing me.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I replied, suddenly feeling awkward. “Should we start a fire or something?” Now that my adrena
line had faded, I was starting to feel the cold.
Tejus removed his robe and wrapped it around me before I could protest. “Wear this. I need to check on the bird—then I’ll make one.”
I pulled the robe tighter around me, feeling guilty for leaving him in just a shirt.
The bird lay on the grass, enclosed in the bubble with us. Tejus went over to kneel by its head, murmuring and stroking its feathers. I could see that it was still breathing, but its chest fluttered erratically and the wings drawn up about its body were almost completely white with icy frost.
Not knowing what to do, I started looking for dead branches and other things we could burn for a fire. There was a fair amount of it, and I placed it all in a pile by the bird for Tejus to light. I had no matches, so I hoped that he had come prepared or had another sentry trick up his sleeve I was unfamiliar with.
“Hazel, come.” He beckoned me over to the bird. The creature turned its beady eye toward me as I approached.
“Sit by the breast, it will warm you.”
The bird tilted on its side with a sigh, exposing its soft downy feathers for me to lie against. Very slowly, I moved closer, nervously bending down on the grass next to it.
“She won’t hurt you,” Tejus coaxed.
“It’s a she?” I asked. I’d never thought about the vulture in any other way than a terrifying method of transport. Earlier today I’d risked stroking it, but the bird had hedged away, probably sensing my unease.
“It’s a she. I… I call her Aria.”
“How long have you had her?” I asked, tentatively leaning my back against the feathers. They were soft and warm.
“Since I was little. It’s a rite of passage in Hellswan. We, my brothers and I, were all given one—it was our first-mind control test. Obviously you don’t ride them at that age. They’re only just hatched. You teach them to fetch things, use them as messenger birds.” Tejus continued to stroke the bird, and it cooed at him.
I relaxed into the feathers of the bird, hoping that Tejus would join me. Instead he rose and walked toward the fire.
“Can you light it?” I asked.
“Of course,” he replied, sounding faintly amused.
I watched eagerly for a sentry trick, but all he did was produce a box of matches and strike one of them on the bottom of his boot.
Oh.
When the fire was roaring, he rose and came to sit down beside me. Immediately I felt the heat emanating from his body, and I shifted closer to him, our arms touching.
We sat in silence for a while, watching the flames flicker around us and swirls of icy snow batter against the barrier. Tejus had created a small hole at the top of the bubble and the smoke from the fire drifted out in one thin funnel, as if it was being guided by an invisible chimney. With the crackling of the wood and the heat from both the bird and Tejus, I felt cozy—and though we were on Ghouls’ Ridge, surrounded by ice flames, in a dimension far from home, in that moment there was nowhere I’d rather have been.
“It’s one of the apocalyptic signs, isn’t it?” I asked, breaking the silence.
“Yes. I think it is.”
“So that’s two down, one more to go.” I sighed, wondering what would be coming after the signs.
“The pestilence of silence,” Tejus replied. “And then…who knows.”
“We’re running out of time, aren’t we?” I asked.
Tejus didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.
“I apologize for putting you in danger yet again,” Tejus murmured. “I would do anything for it not to be this way.”
Smiling into the flames of the fire, I leaned my head against his bicep.
“It’s not entirely your fault.”
“I beg to differ,” he muttered.
“My family work to protect humans from the supernatural. They’re often in danger. When I was little, I didn’t know if my mom and dad would always come home from an assignment, or if my grandparents, or uncle, or any one of them would die fighting for a fairer world. I don’t mind being in danger—I mind being alone and in danger… Whenever you’re with me, I feel okay. Like it doesn’t matter what we face, because I know you’ll do your best to protect me. And that’s all I can ask of anyone.”
“You should ask for a lot more than that, Hazel… You deserve more than that.”
“But you can’t give me more than that, can you?” I asked softly.
Tejus looked down at me, his expression unreadable.
“No.”
I nodded, fighting down the lump in my throat. Every time I thought that things were changing between Tejus and me, that we were growing closer, he would knock me back again and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could handle it without cracking up completely.
As if sensing my frustration, he reached down to find my hand. Part of me wanted to jerk my hand back, but it would have been childish and stupid—and dishonest. I needed him, his solid presence and whatever convoluted feelings he had for me. Our fingers entwined, and I held on tightly.
Ruby
“Put me down!” I roared, struggling in the grip of Commander Varga as the bull-horse cantered across uneven grassland.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he replied tersely, his eyes fixed on the horizon.
“I need to get to Hazel! Where are you taking me?”
“Far away from Hellswan—it’s not safe.”
He didn’t halt the horse or stop the ferocious pace we were riding at. I could still see the blue-white flames running across the forests behind us, but we were staying ahead, outpacing the danger.
“Please stop!” I tried again. “I need to get to the castle—I need to start looking for Benedict and Julian…”
“I’m not letting that happen. You’ll die, Ruby. Hellswan is no place for you right now.”
I wanted to protest more. It might not be the best place for me, but Hazel was there, and so were a bunch of scared kids. I couldn’t abandon them again. Avoiding making eye contact with Varga, I kept my gaze on the landscape—we were getting further away from the fires, but my surroundings had started to look unfamiliar.
“Are you taking me back to the Seraq kingdom?” I asked. I’d been assuming that was where we’d been heading, but I didn’t recognize the route.
“No,” he replied firmly. “I’m taking you to another kingdom. It’s ruled by King Memenion—he’s a fair man, he’ll offer you sanctuary while the fires last.”
“What?” I exploded. “I don’t know him! You can’t just take me to a foreign kingdom full of sentries!”
Commander Varga laughed.
“He’s not like the others—you’ll be safe. I promise you.”
Oh, sure.
“Okay, I don’t know you, so I’m not really in a position to trust you. Plus, you’ve basically just kidnapped me.”
“Or saved your life,” he replied amicably.
“I didn’t want to be saved.”
He didn’t reply, and I glanced at him, only to see an amused smirk playing on his lips.
“We’re almost there,” he replied. “You might want to at least pretend to be gracious when we arrive.”
I huffed silently, gazing at the approaching castle. It was smaller than the one at Hellswan, but much more inviting. Where Hellswan appeared jagged and dark, with its dull-colored stone and imposing gates, Memenion’s castle was squat and round, made of lighter, brighter stone that reflected the small amount of sunlight left in the Nevertide sky. At every window, plants grew and spread across the stonework, and instead of the heavy iron portcullis and stone barricades, this castle had miles of lush gardens and fountains.
Commander Varga loosened his grip on me a little when he realized I was going to behave myself. I attempted to look as presentable as possible, slightly nervous about meeting more Nevertide royalty. The ones I’d met so far hadn’t exactly left a very good impression.
As we approached the castle through a broad gravel pathway, guards stood to attention outside the main doors
, and then more still appeared at intervals on the stone balconies. I had assumed, from the lack of physical barricades, that this castle wasn’t as hot on protection as Hellswan was, but maybe I was mistaken.
Commander Varga stopped the bull-horse as two guards approached us.
“Are you ready?” he whispered to me. I nodded, and turned to smile winningly at the guards.
“Commander Varga,” acknowledged one of the guards, and they both bowed low. I was surprised that the guard had such reverence in his tone—why would they respect a commander of a different kingdom so much?
“We have come to meet with the king. I am hoping he will offer us both sanctuary.”
“Of course, Commander,” the guard replied dutifully.
Varga dismounted and helped me step down from the bull-horse, then handed the reins to a stable hand who appeared out of nowhere, also bowing low when he saw Varga.
“Follow me.” The guard gestured toward the opening doors of the castle.
We entered into a very large hallway, painted with beautiful bright murals of countryside scenes. Everywhere I looked, sentry servants were scurrying about, appearing and then disappearing into the multiple rooms that opened off from the hall. Everything about it was different from anything I’d come across since arriving in Nevertide—it was a million miles away from the doom and gloom of Hellswan, and completely unlike Seraq’s lavish ghost kingdom.
“Wow,” I whispered to Varga as we followed the guard. “This place is actually amazing.”
He nodded. “It’s considered one of the more beautiful kingdoms in Nevertide. Small, but well-run.”
A lot of the female servants who passed us smiled shyly at Varga, and each time he returned a polite and courteous nod.
“Why is everyone here acting like you’re a celebrity?” I hissed.
“Because I am charming,” he replied, deadpan, “unlike some I could mention.”
“I can be charming,” I muttered.
He gave a snort, but before I could say anything more, we came to a stop in front of a set of large doors right at the end of the hallway. The guard opened them and ushered us through, closing them back behind us.
A Shade of Vampire 37: An Empire of Stones Page 5