Knights of Obsidian

by Shannon Lynn Cook

  “No!” I scream as the pixie reaches for Rafe.

  All it takes is a touch, and the knight crumples to the ground. He’s conscious, but something is very wrong.

  “Rafe!”

  “I’m fine,” he grits out, looking as if he’s unable to move his limbs.

  “What did you do to him?” I demand, swinging toward the pixie.

  He pulls a chair from one of the round tables, swings it around, and sits in it backward, staring at me with a smile on his face. “Just a little temporary paralysis. Beautiful, simple. Highly effective, wouldn’t you say?”

  Thomas steps in front of me, blocking Rafe and the pixie from my line of sight. In an incredibly reasonable tone, he says, “Listen, Madeline. We don’t want to hurt you, and you have no reason to fear us. Here’s how this is going to work. You’re going to come with us and open one of the closed thresholds. After that, we’ll let Rafe go.”

  Notice he doesn’t say he’ll let me go?

  “Why do you want the threshold opened?” I demand.

  “We’ll explain it all soon, but right now all you need to know is we require access to Aparia so we can send scouts and see what we’re dealing with on that end.”

  “You have no idea what’s waiting for you—it’s been a thousand years. I can’t just open a threshold indefinitely—who knows what might cross over.”

  “It’s a chance we’re willing to take.”

  Of course it is, because humans are the ones they’re truly putting in danger, and the Entitled has never cared about them.

  “How did you find me?” I ask, stalling for time. If I can postpone long enough, maybe the next person to walk through that door will be one of my guys. “How do you know who I am?”

  “Ah, pretty girl. I’m hurt,” the pixie says from behind Thomas. “You don’t recognize me?”

  My heart goes cold, and I take a step back.

  Thomas rolls his eyes and steps aside, letting me speak with the pixie.

  “Trent?” I ask, though my head can’t wrap around it. How does he keep popping up? He’s like a Whack-a-Mole.

  “The pixie showed up in San Francisco a week ago,” Thomas says. “He claimed he’d found the Obsidian Queen in Redstone. We didn’t fully believe him until Chloe saw you use your persuasion on Eric aboard the plane.”

  Chloe.

  Oh, no—not her too. Poor Eric is going to be heartbroken.

  Thomas shakes his head. “You know, a woman pretending to be a Passeridae shouldn’t use Urocyon magic in public.”

  “How is this even possible?” I demand, focusing on Trent. “You were working with Georgette too?”

  “No,” he says with an easy laugh, rising from his chair and sauntering toward me. His current form is boy-next-door, as friendly as a golden retriever. It’s just wrong. “I jumped into the fun to throw you off.”

  “But…Jonathan saw your magic.”

  The pixie shrugs. “I pocketed the medallion—you were expecting Trent with the mask, not a simple pixie with a gargoyle charm. See how well it worked? And can I tell you how much fun I had leading you and Jonathan around earlier? I watched the two of you panic when you lost me—I bumped into you, and you didn’t even realize it was me.”

  Trent saunters a little too close, and Thomas pulls a gun on him. “Keep your distance, pixie. I don’t trust you.”

  “Good call.” Trent laughs.

  “How much are they paying you this time?” I ask, seething.

  The psycho pixie winks. “A lot.”

  “Enough of this,” Brett says, his voice shaking. “We need to go before Gray comes looking for her.”

  Oh, look. Guess he figured out my brilliant plan.

  Thomas steps forward with a strip of cloth and frowns when I jump. “Don’t worry—it’s just a blindfold.”

  Rafe growls, sounding like he’s fighting the pixie’s magic…and close to winning. He manages to move his legs, followed by his arms.

  Thomas immediately aims his pistol at my head and snarls at Rafe, “Don’t. Move.”

  My breath catches, and my heart hammers in my chest. Sweat beads on Brett’s forehead, making me nervous. He’s on edge, and all it would take is a split second of bad judgment to kill my knight.

  “Rafe,” I say softly, trying to keep myself calm so my fear won’t push him further. “Please don’t.”

  My dark knight meets my eyes, trembling with rage. He’s going to kill them, I know it. I don’t know when or how, but they signed their death sentence the moment they threatened me.

  He looks at Thomas, a feral smile on his face. Even on the floor, he’s threatening. “Do you realize what you’ve done? You’ve pulled a gun on the true heir of Aparia—a woman who has the power to command legions of nightmarish monsters from the hellish depths. How do you think this is going to end for you? She has them in hiding now, but I guarantee if they feel her fear, her pain, her struggle, they will swarm.” He waits a moment, making sure he has their full attention. “And you will die.”

  “He’s bluffing,” Brett says after a moment, his gun trembling in his hand.

  Suddenly, Trent giggles. It’s a sick sound, the same no matter what shape he steals. “Oh, funny Squirrels, he’s not.” He looks back at me, raising his eyebrows slowly, staring at me with unbridled lust. “She is magnificent. In fact, let’s prove it—kill her knight, do it slowly. Let him writhe in pain and agony until he screams for his own death. Her temper will be a beautiful thing, I promise you.”

  “I’ll go with you without a struggle, but only if Rafe comes with me,” I say to Thomas, drawing his attention back, fighting the anger that’s already threatening to consume me. Is Rafe right? Will the beasts sense my emotions and flock? Am I that dangerous?

  “But I refuse to wear the blindfold,” I add.

  Thomas’s Adam’s apple bobs as he thinks. “Fine.”

  25

  Riding in the back of a pickup is miserable, especially when your hands are bound behind your back. I sit next to the wheel well, in the dark under a camper shell. Autumn nights in the desert are cold, and the grooved metal bed doesn’t make for a comfortable ride.

  I focus on Rafe, telling myself everything will be all right because he’s with me. He’s doing better now. The paralysis must nearly be out of his system because he managed to push himself up to a sitting position not long ago.

  We’ve been in the truck for hours. The first stretch was through stop and start traffic, navigating busy Vegas streets. Then we hit the highway and drove until we pulled onto a dirt road. Now we’re bumping along, hitting every rut imaginable.

  Squirrels can’t drive.

  Another jarring bump causes me to hit my head on the side again, and my vision temporarily blurs.

  I have a headache, I’m dying of thirst, and I am starving because I haven’t eaten a thing today since my coffee and skimpy protein bar at breakfast.

  I close my eyes, dreaming of pizza the way Jonathan ordered it in Tahoe. I don’t normally eat those kinds of carbs. Or fat. Or cheese, for that matter. But my growling stomach demands copious quantities of calories, and if I get out of this alive, I’m going to indulge it.

  “Are you all right?” Rafe asks from his side, his voice sounding ragged. The emotions pouring off him are suffocating. The Squirrels might not know it, but they should be terrified. I’m a little scared, to be honest.

  “My foot is asleep,” I say, shifting in an attempt to stretch it in front of me. “But other than that, I’m okay.”

  He shifts, making his way to me as best he can, scooting on his butt with his hands behind his back. I’d laugh in different circumstances, but there’s nothing funny about this. When he reaches me, I collapse against his side as he leans into me. We sit shoulder to shoulder, waiting for this awful road trip to come to an end. I had no idea we were going off-roading.

  Despite the rough ride, I end up dozing against Rafe’s shoulder, drifting in and out of consciousness. I have no idea what time it is, but it feels l
ike three in the morning.

  When the truck takes a sharp right and comes to a bumping stop, I lift my head and blink, wondering where the heck they’ve brought us.

  The truck doors open and close, and then the camper shell latch opens, and the tailgate falls. The guys have flashlights, and the lights are harsh against the night, making me squint.

  “Come on out,” Thomas says, expecting me to crawl to him.

  I stay right where I am, refusing to make this easy.

  That, however, is a mistake because he grabs my ankle and pulls, nearly making me fall back and crack my head once more. “Today,” he gripes, losing what little patience he has.

  Rafe struggles against his bonds, but it’s no use.

  Because I don’t want Thomas touching me again, I shimmy toward the exit, wary and yet oddly exhilarated.

  If they’re right about the location, I’m going to see a threshold tonight—a link to our old life, to our history.

  “You staying here, Fox, or are you coming with us?” Thomas asks Rafe after he helps me onto my feet. I yank away from my kidnapper, loathing that I needed his help to get off the tailgate.

  My hair has fallen flat, and strands of it hang in my face, lifeless and irritating. I can’t even use my hands to push it behind my ear.

  Rafe doesn’t answer Thomas. Instead, he scoots forward, keeping his thoughts to himself. He even manages to leap from the back without falling on his nose, as I would have done had I attempted it unaided.

  I look around, taking in the scene. The moon is a sliver in the sky, and the stars are bright. We must be quite a long way from civilization to see this many of them. The Milky Way spreads above us, a ribbon of stars spilled across the sky.

  The air is cold and fresh, and the smell of sand and wet rock hangs in the air.

  It’s lonely out here in the vast, seemingly empty desert. I feel exposed, vulnerable. There are mountains in the distance, maybe the Sierra Nevadas, maybe something else. I’m not sure how far we drove—or what direction for that matter.

  “Hope you’re ready for a hike,” Brett says, joining Thomas. He straps on a backpack.

  “I didn’t exactly have time to change,” I say when he scowls at my shoes. “Forgive me, I didn’t know we were taking a field trip.”

  Brett grunts. Trent ambles over, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

  I sidle up to Rafe and whisper, “I don’t know what Trent’s up to, but watch yourself.”

  The knight keeps his voice low. “I think he’s already told us—he wants to make you desperate enough you’ll lose your temper and call the creatures.”

  “But he’ll die,” I argue. “Surely he knows that.”

  Rafe shrugs. “He’s insane, was the entire time he worked for Morris. Trent wants pandemonium—he wants to be the instigator of that chaos. If he dies in the madness, then so be it. He’ll have made his mark.”

  “Sounds like someone stole his favorite rubber duck when he was a wee pixie,” I say, trying to lighten the situation. “Maybe his mom didn’t hug him enough?”

  Thoughts of parents not turning out to be exactly what you hoped are the last thing I need to be thinking about, though. The joke was supposed to make things seem less dire, but the thought just leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

  “Stop whispering,” Thomas says, nodding me ahead. “Get on with it.”

  Brett’s phone glows in the night, and he leads the way into the desert, following coordinates on a GPS.

  “You know, you really had me,” I say, struggling to keep up on the rock-riddled path. The loose sand and random patches of slickrock under my heels are making for a tricky terrain to traverse. There are scraggly bushes too, along with nasty sharp weeds, and they scratch my bare ankles, making me wish I’d worn pants this morning. “I thought you were kidnapping me, but it looks like you just wanted to go Geocaching. Did you bring a pen? You’d hate to get all the way to the ledger and realize you’ve left it behind.”

  In answer, Thomas pushes my shoulder, silently telling me to shut up and keep walking. He doesn’t realize that you just don’t shove a girl in spiky heels on uneven ground. I stumble forward, and my heel catches. There’s no way to regain my balance with my hands behind my back, and my ankle folds. I crash to the unforgiving ground, unable to protect my face. Sharp rocks dig into my left cheek, and pain spreads across my shoulder and chest.

  Rafe yells from behind me, and Thomas curses like it’s my fault I’m on the ground.

  I roll over, groaning, helpless to brush the sand, grit, and spiky pebbles off my face.

  As Brett and Thomas deal with Rafe, Trent saunters up next to me, kneeling by my head. “This must be very humbling for you. How upsetting it must be, how humiliating.”

  The pixie brushes hair out of my face, and I twist my neck, trying to bite his hand like a rabid dog. He jerks his fingers away just in time and chuckles.

  “So naughty,” he says.

  He trails his hand down my neck, even when I try to roll away from him. His hand digs into my shoulder, and he pushes me back, pressing me into the hard ground. “Why don’t you save yourself? Call your minions, Your Majesty,” he mocks.

  And for one moment, just a fraction of a second, I think about it. If I called to the creatures, they would come. They would do my bidding, and my abductors would pay.

  Trent, Thomas, Brett—all three would cry out for mercy, beg me to spare them—

  No.

  I grit my teeth, refusing to think of it for even another second. Revenge, though sweet in that brief flash of anger, festers into something vile.

  “Get away from her,” Thomas snarls, ripping Trent to his feet. “Move.”

  The Squirrel bends over and pulls me to my feet. Blood runs down my face, and I can see the dark stain of it on my arm as well. Acknowledging it makes the pain triple, and I wobble, feeling woozy.

  Rafe ends up by my side, and I lean against him for support. His anger intensifies, building like a storm on the horizon. It sparks and crackles, nearly spilling into me.

  “I’m all right,” I whisper. “Really.”

  “I’m going to kill them,” he swears.

  I take a deep breath and step forward. “I know.”

  We walk for hours, following Brent and his blasted GPS. The stars begin to fade as a hint of light shows in the eastern sky.

  My shoes wear blisters onto my feet, and yet, we still press forward. Silent tears run down my face because everything hurts.

  And then we stop.

  I look around, wondering where we are.

  Thomas sets his hands on his hips and folds over, stretching after the long trek. “There,” he says, motioning to an arch high on a sandstone incline.

  I give him a questioning look and then turn my attention back to the natural hole in the rock. “There what?”

  “That’s the threshold. Open it.”

  He’s insane—there’s nothing there. It’s just a hole in the rock, eroded by wind and water. When I tell him as much, he snarls, “Do not toy with me, Fox. You are worthless to us if you’re difficult, and I can make your life most uncomfortable.”

  “What do you want me to do?” I demand. “I don’t see anything.”

  Thomas whirls around to Brett. “This is the correct spot?”

  Brett nods, looking around. “I believe so, but where’s Chloe?”

  Thomas pauses. He jogs forward, looking for her near the arch. He even calls her name, but there’s no response. When he walks back, his pace fast and agitated, he nearly rips the phone from Thomas’s hand. “Where’s the original map? You saved it to your phone, didn’t you?”

  Brett grunts, not looking too pleased to be spoken to like he’s an idiot.

  “This is it—the landmarks overlap,” Thomas says, shoving the phone back at Brett. To me, he says, “Get up there and open it.”

  Right, I’ll just scale the slippery sandstone in high heels, with my hands cuffed behind my back. For a moment, I debate taking off the
shoes, but the rocks are sharp, and I think I’ll fare better with them on. Not seeing how I have a choice, I move forward. I find a path—narrow and sandy, and eventually, make it to the base of the arch.

  “What do I do?” I demand, killing time.

  They have a plan, but I have one too. The minute they pass through for their little scouting mission, I’m going to lock the threshold behind them—if I can figure out how to go about it.

  “What do you mean?” Thomas yells. “Open it.”

  Trent laughs from atop a nearby boulder. He sits like a child, with his legs crossed in front of him. At least someone is enjoying himself.

  “You’re a Fox,” Thomas says, losing the last of his patience with me. “Unlock it.”

  Oh…so that’s how it works. A threshold is the ultimate lock, something only Obsidian magic can work. But there’s still one problem—how am I supposed to unlock something I can’t see?

  “Madeline,” Rafe says, oddly calm. “You don’t have to do this.”

  Thomas pulls his gun on Rafe. “Yes, Madeline. You do.”

  I swallow and turn toward the arch, feeling for some kind of mechanism like I do when I’m unlocking a door.

  But there’s nothing—absolutely nothing.

  “You know, this might be easier if you’d unbind my hands,” I say, inspecting the rock—for what, I have no idea. But I inspect it all the same.

  I’m about to remind the Squirrel that I can’t exactly access my magic with the cuffs on when a shot sounds in the night, and pain, hot and fast, crashes over me.

  “No!” I scream when I find Rafe on his knees. His head is thrown back, and I can feel his agony.

  “That was just his foot,” Thomas says. “Next time I’ll shoot his arm, then his thigh, then his belly, then his head. STOP PLAYING STUPID.”

  I whirl around, shaking, frantically looking for something.

  “Hurry up!” Thomas hollers, and then the gun fires again. Rafe yells into the night, and I nearly fall to my knees. Tears roll down my face as I sob, searching, searching, searching.