Dovetailed

Home > Young Adult > Dovetailed > Page 12
Dovetailed Page 12

by RaShelle Workman


  The Ferether was trying to blend into her surroundings; like a stick bug or a moth, she worked to be part of the world, just another human going about her life. In high school he hadn’t thought she was anything but a bully. Now he understood the truth.

  Now that he knew what to look for it was easy to see that Tawny was a little too stiff, her singing the tiniest bit too rough, and he sensed her siphoning off the baby’s soul. In that moment he decided he would take the child back to Kelari with him. He would return her to Dervinias.

  Of the two of them, he was the better option.

  Not by much, though , he thought, sliding from the tree and floating over to the window. He’d never liked Dervinias, even before he knew the guy was an alien. He’d always thought Dervinias was too cocky for his own damn good. But Chev’s pregnancy had changed him. Michael had seen with his own eyes the way he cared for Chev. It was obvious Dervinias loved her.

  Without much thought he went through the window. Tawny saw him and froze. “What are you doing here, Ferether? In need of a friend?” she asked quietly, walking the baby over to a bassinet and laying her in it.

  Michael returned to his corporeal form. “I need something from you.”

  Tawny snorted softly. She walked past him, running a hand over his chest and shoulder before going over to the light switch and flipping it off. She walked into the kitchen, stuck the bottle in the sink, and flicked that light off as well. “You may need something, but I’m not in the business of giving anything unless it’s the kiss of death. Is that what you’re looking for?” Her face contorted. She turned off the bathroom light and moved to the hallway. The room was in total darkness.

  And she suddenly stood in front of him… as Venus. She rubbed her hands over his back and down to his backside. Michael allowed it to happen. She had no idea who she was messing with.

  “You think you make a better Venus?” He kept his voice low so as not betray his fury.

  “Of course.” She leaned in and kissed his neck. “We are the same, you and I. Together we would be unstoppable.”

  He knew that was true. The two of them could rule any world, but that wasn’t what he wanted. “We aren’t the same, Tawny. You are pretending to be something you’re not, while I…” he paused, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I am.” Michael placed one hand on her waist, drawing her in.

  Tawny chuckled, running her fingers up and down his arms. “I could help you, Michael.”

  She has no soul. You cannot sway her that way.

  You must go Ferether against Ferether.

  Break her .

  The Sistine Sisters had a point. He couldn’t control her. She was Ferether and only wore a false human body. But he had an idea. It’d taken a special knife to kill Ramien. He could create another one, morph his hand into the blade he needed. Michael knew that was the answer, but he resisted.

  His thoughts were in turmoil.

  It was the idea of killing. He knew Tawny deserved it, that she’d already spent lifetimes killing, and if he didn’t end her she would spend lifetimes doing more of the same. That was a fact, knowledge he’d seen with his own eyes. Tawny cared for nothing and no one. She even intended to raise the baby sleeping in the bassinet for the singular purpose of forcing the child give Tawny her soul.

  Even knowing all that, he still struggled. Murder wasn’t in his nature.

  You must annihilate her, Michael.

  Create a weapon.

  Extinguish .

  Michael understood what the Sisters were saying. I know, he hissed back, wishing they’d be quiet so he could think. Swallowing, he schooled his emotions, giving nothing away.

  He thought about Venus and wondered what she would do. Without question she would end Tawny. It was the right thing to do.

  Michael flexed his hand and thought about the blade he needed, the one he and Venus used to kill Ramien. As he pictured it in his mind, his hand transformed into the blade. It was a little freaky, experiencing his veins and sinews adapt to the new appendage. He’d watched the Terminator movies when he was younger. In one there’d been machines that could do what he did. They were soulless also. Michael wasn’t. His soul, every fiber within his body, experienced the change he’d created in his hand. The blade became part of him, part of his identity. “I know you could, Tawny. There’s one way…” his voice trailed off and she glanced up, meeting his eyes, searching for the answer.

  Michael brought the hand that was now a knife from behind his back and, before he could debate his decision further, shoved it into her belly.

  Pain radiated on Tawny’s face, followed quickly by rage. “What have you done? What have you done?”

  Michael didn’t have an answer. One wasn’t necessary. “It’s your time to die, Tawny.” Sticky liquid surrounded his bladed hand. He pulled the Illeyse from his neck and touched it to the gaping wound in Tawny’s stomach.

  The liquid smelled bitter, like rotting almonds. Even in the darkness he could see the blood was the color of sap and just as sticky. He scooped some into the Illeyse. The gem changed from yellow to burnt orange.

  Tawny still watched him in shock. She didn’t move, but gasping sounds escaped her throat. “You’re just like your father,” she said between breaths. The body she’d used to be human aged rapidly, fell in chunks to the floor, and vanished. All that remained was the horrifying body of her true Ferether self. It seemed to ooze and fall apart. Then a gray mist swirled up around her and she vanished.

  Michael was surprised. He looked down at his blade hand. It was clean. Disgusted, he changed it back, moving his fingers to make sure he had full range of motion.

  It felt sick. Evil. The words Tawny said right before she died echoed in his mind.

  Was he just like his father?

  You are nothing like Ramien.

  Not even the same species.

  Hope.

  As the Sisters spoke into his mind they appeared in front of him. Like apparitions, they swayed.

  “What’s going on?” It was weird not having them in his mind. He felt lighter and emptier.

  “We will take the child back to Kelari.”

  “She’ll be safe with us.”

  “Protect her.”

  They glided over to the bassinet. The first lifted the baby into her arms. The child cooed softly, but didn’t wake.

  “The last component is your blood.”

  “You must hurry.”

  “Indestructible.”

  They made no sense but, before he could ask them what the Helker they were talking about, they disappeared, taking the child with them.

  Michael stood still a moment, debating what to do. He felt utterly alone. The last time he’d felt this way had been near the stream right before he met Venus for the first time.

  Thick depression washed over him, a dark evil he couldn’t fight or overcome. It seemed to bind him up and pull him down. He fell to the floor and then through the floor…

  Down.

  Down.

  Down.

  He was floating in nothingness.

  The time had come to release the Leviathans on the world. King Antyon was almost giddy with excitement. He’d used Britorent to get to his facility. It was located in the exact center of Nimbus and was the tallest structure in the city. The building had been erected out of garanath and black glass in the shape of a corkscrew and stretched like a twisted beacon. The name of the building—Antyon Engineering—surrounded the top most section. Its holographic lettering could be read from all directions and even from space. He took the elevator to the top, entered his office, and glanced out the windows.

  Clouds dotted the view but he could still see the buildings below. Soon they will all be destroyed, he thought with a malicious grin. Once the war was ended he would rebuild and create a city in the clouds worthy of him. Worthy of a god.

  First he had some garbage to get rid of, namely the leaders of the country Veranath and its neighboring country of Reranath. Their borders connected
with his country of Canaru. He’d gone to them second, after dealing with the King and Queen of Eloyinia. They’d been receptive to his plan. Many of his most exceptional scientists came from those countries but he’d recently discovered, thanks to his son Palmo, that King Hab of Veranath and Queen Gith of Reranath had been in contact with the leaders of Alayeah. The traitors had agreed to fracture their alliance with him if Alayeah promised to protect their lands. Palmo had also informed him that Ith and Aetha were gone and that their child reigned in their stead. To top it off, the leaders of Alayeah had crowned Amberlee queen. He knew the girl loved his son.

  King Antyon rubbed his hands together. It would be so easy to destroy that country, as well as the rest. And once his newly engineered Leviathans finished off Kelari, he would send them to Earth.

  The leaders there wouldn’t stand a chance.

  “King Antyon, everyone’s in the conference room.”

  He turned away from the window and glanced at his assistant. “Good. I’ll be right in.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” She bowed slightly and left.

  King Antyon sat at his desk and pulled up the holographic monitor of his computer and located the cameras, then he pressed camera three. The conference room came into view. The first thing he noticed was that Tanith sat in his chair. The god was dressed in the robes of a king. He looked uncomfortable in all of the clothing, but haughty nonetheless. King Antyon wondered why the god had chosen to come. What was his purpose?

  It was an answer he didn’t possess. The prospect sent a ripple of fear through him, but he pushed it back.

  One thing at a time , he told himself.

  There were twelve leaders seated at the large oblong table. To the right of his empty chair at the head of the table was Irene, the Queen of Eloyinia. She looked divine in her midnight blue gown.

  He studied each of the rest of the leaders’ faces. His assistant had placed each leader in a specified chair. The leaders of Veranath and Reranath were seated together on the left side and toward the other end.

  King Antyon pushed the record button. He’d use the recorded feed to show every other country of Kelari what he was capable of, and the lengths he’d go to in order to ensure no one betrayed him.

  He opened a drawer and pulled out a remote before made his way down to the conference room. When he arrived his assistant opened the door and he stepped inside.

  “Welcome, everyone. Thank you for coming on such short notice.” His eyes glanced over Tanith. The god raised an eyebrow but said nothing. King Antyon cleared his throat and studied the faces of the others. Perhaps Tanith needed to see proof that King Antyon could do what he said he would, that he wasn’t a coward. “I wanted to give you a peek at the army we will be using. It’ll be good for you to see what our enemies are up against.”

  “We’ve been wondering that ourselves,” King Cyn of Jath said.

  Several others nodded.

  King Antyon clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Well then, let’s get right to it.” He turned to his assistant. “Fex, show them the Leviathans facility.”

  She nodded, walked over to a panel, flipped it open, and pressed several buttons. The table and floor gave way to the room below.

  All of the leaders except Irene let out exclamations of horror and surprise. They scooted their chairs toward the glass wall. Some lifted their feet onto their chairs.

  “Not to worry. Not to worry,” King Antyon said, moving back and forth like a caged animal.

  All except Tanith bombarded him with apprehensive looks. Some made comments to each other.

  “I can’t believe it.”

  “Look at them.”

  “They aren’t as scary as I thought they would be,” the King of Veranath said, running a nervous hand through his bright orange hair.

  The Queen of Reranath nodded her agreement. “Yes, they almost seem docile,” she added, her teeth clicking as she spoke.

  King Antyon smiled. “I assure you they can do what needs to be done.” He reached a hand into his pocket. “Perhaps a demonstration is in order?”

  They all agreed.

  “Excellent.” King Antyon pressed the remote in his pocket. The see-through floor opened up under the King of Veranath and the Queen of Reranath. Their chairs tilted and, before they even realized what was happening, they both slid through the opening and into the room of Leviathans below.

  He pressed the remote again and the floor closed back up. “Now,” he said, clenching his jaw tightly so each word came out with bite, “you’ll see what awaits our adversaries.”

  The room was as silent as a tomb. King Antyon knew the remaining leaders had to be shocked. He gave Tanith a quick glance, knowing the god had to be impressed. His features were impassive, revealing nothing. No matter, when the Leviathans killed the leaders, he’d have something to say. Surely.

  King Antyon watched king and queen stand, their faces betraying their fear.

  “Perhaps they are right. Perhaps the Leviathans are more tame than I believed,” King Antyon said, working not to laugh.

  No one answered. Their eyes were fixed on the two figures below. A sense of foreboding claimed the room.

  The king and queen were looking up at them. Words left their lips, but the glass was sound proof so their cries couldn’t be heard. That made King Antyon sad and he regretted his decision. He wanted to hear their screams as they died.

  Several tentacles snaked around the king and queen. Like choking vines, the Leviathans’ tentacles wrapped up their victims until all that could be seen were their terrified eyes.

  The poison worked its way through their bodies quickly. Clear celestrum leaked from their eyes and dripped down their faces. It looked like they were crying. The bodies began falling to pieces. One of the king’s eyes fell from his head. A Leviathan tentacle picked it up and shoved it in its mouth.

  Within seconds the traitors were gone. No part of them remained. It was like they never existed.

  King Antyon sighed. “Any questions?”

  Several murmured.

  King Antyon asked again. “Questions?” The smell of fear filled the conference room. He liked it.

  “No,” they each responded.

  Irene gave King Antyon a serious look. “Alayeah is will be ours by nightfall.”

  The remaining leaders filed out of the room. All except Irene and Tanith. She kept giving the god lustful looks. It irritated King Antyon.

  “Irene, please wait outside. I need to speak with him alone.” He indicated Tanith.

  She bowed slightly. “As you wish, my King.” The words from her lips suddenly seemed insincere. Perhaps her love for him wasn’t as sure as he’d once believed.

  “You, too,” he said to Fex, his assistant.

  When she was out, he closed the door and turned to Tanith.

  The god was shaking his head. “You are too arrogant, too easily swayed by your own ideas.”

  “You saw what I just did,” King Antyon said, flabbergasted. “If I’m arrogant it’s because I should be. The Leviathans will destroy all on Kelari who don’t support my beliefs. That is certain.”

  “Tsk. Tsk.” Tanith waved a finger in front of him. “Your arrogance will be the death of you.” Without a word he vanished.

  “What do you mean?” King Antyon shouted into the empty air. The god didn’t respond. A foreboding filled him. What did Tanith know? What hadn’t the god told him? The answers weren’t forthcoming. Anger burned in his breast. He would show the god how wrong he was. And then he would take the god’s power. Somehow he would.

  Michael wasn’t sure where he was, only that darkness permeated. He wasn’t even sure how long he’d been like that. In the thick blackness time seemed to stand still. It was as though he was dead, except he possessed rational thought. Didn’t he?

  He squeezed his eyes shut, just to make sure he could feel the muscles moving together, then blinked them open. He put his fingers in his mouth to see if he could taste. “Yuck,” he said, b
ut heard nothing. It was as though he’d been swallowed.

  There was nothing under him or above him, nothing but the mind numbing dark.

  “Where am I?” he shouted. “What’s going on?” Michael tried moving his body like he was swimming in the void, but he couldn’t tell if he moved or not.

  After hours or minutes or seconds, he closed his eyes and crossed his arms. If this was death, he would be eternally miserable.

  For the longest time he focused his thoughts on Venus: his memories of her, the touch of her lips on his, the scent of her skin, the way her eyes lit up when she was happy about something. He thought about all that had happened since the day they met, the many ways she’d changed him without even trying. He wanted to be a better man because of her.

  Next his mind wandered to Sadraden. Flying with the irrihunter had been an amazing experience. The two of them worked well as a team. He’d never trusted another creature the way he trusted her.

  And the Sistine Sisters. What he wouldn’t give to have them in his head right now. He missed them terribly.

  Then he thought about his mother. Michael felt bad for her. She’d died an outsider without a country or a family. No home. No one to love. He would’ve loved her if she had let him.

  He thought of Frank, the man he’d believed was his father, and his real father, Ramien. Both men were awful.

  And he wondered if he was there because of them; if he was a product of his parents, how could he be anything but evil?

  Michael . The word didn’t register as his name the first time he heard it. The voice was soft and deep, yet penetrating. It seemed to have come from inside his head. When he heard the voice say his name again, he strained to figure out what or who was saying it.

  He couldn’t see anyone, but way off in the distance he thought he could see a light. It was nothing more than a tiny dot in the vast expanse. He squinted. The light appeared to be growing closer. That could’ve been wishful thinking, though.

  “Besides, a tiny dot can’t help me.”

  Michael wanted to turn away from the light. It was like torture, having it so far away without being able to reach it. No matter how much it felt like he was moving he seemed to stay in the same spot, and that damn dot wasn’t getting any closer.

 

‹ Prev