Sitting in my cage with the large golden bear at my side, I watched the shadows I loved so much creep and crawl across the clearing as the sun traveled through the sky. Morning quickly turned to day and afternoon to twilight, making me anxious and terrified all at once. What would happen once the sun set? My answer: absolutely nothing. When night finally swallowed up the last trace of light, I hoped against hope I could become one with the darkness. But the Lyhtan hair that bound my wrists and ankles dashed any upbeat thought I might have had. Bound to my solid form, I was forced to sit and wait . . . and wait . . . and wait.
Only barely awake and still groggy, I noticed how content I felt. Like I was wrapped up in a fleecy blanket, I snuggled deeper toward the warmth, letting it banish the cold night air. As I became more aware, I realized the blanket was more furry than fuzzy, and then that my blanket rose and fell beneath me, beside me, all around me, really. Then my blanket snored, and I became more than fully aware that my cozy blanket was alive.
I stayed very still. One of his paws rested across my waist. I was caught in a real-life bear hug. Night had become morning once again. A light frost dusted the grass in the clearing like powdered sugar on a cake, but thanks to my living bear-skin rug, I hadn’t even noticed.
How long was I to remain a prisoner? Almost twenty-four hours had passed since my abduction, and I was still just as clueless about my fate as I had been yesterday. Where were the strange kids? Where were the Lyhtans? And, more important . . . where was Tyler? I almost hoped someone would come try to kill me. At least it would break the monotony.
The bear rolled away from me, and though the freedom of movement was a welcome relief, I would have liked for him to leave his pile of fur on top of me. He was waking as well. Perhaps he was wondering how much longer he had on this earth, just like I was.
The chill in the air burned off by slow degrees, and my black clothes drew the warmth of the sun. Signs of life—besides my furry companion—appeared minutes later. The fair-faced youngsters had returned.
The four that had hauled me here were accompanied by an additional five, and the significance of the number was not lost on me. Nine strange kids, guardians of nine gargoyle statues. I looked at the bear and jerked my chin in their direction. “Maybe they should just sacrifice those weird little things and let us go?”
The bear snorted, as if laughing at my attempt at humor, and then cried his mournful bear cry. “Yeah, I know,” I said. “Wish in one hand . . .” My furry friend gave a very pointed stare, as if saying, Couldn’t hurt. But my wish granter had betrayed me. I didn’t have much hope that the bond between us still held. If there ever was one to begin with. Even so, I decided to give it a shot. Anything was worth a try at this point. I closed my eyes, the words waiting on my lips and . . . Clank, clank, clank. My captors circled the cage, running sticks along the sides like bored children before cable television and video games. Pissed didn’t begin to describe the angry sensation boiling over my skin. “How about some breakfast?” I shouted out to our jailers, rather than follow through with a wish I knew would not be granted. “Or is that what I’m in here for?”
They turned as a collective body. One of them smiled. And as the same collective body, they turned and walked away.
As the day wore on, the heat increased to a sweltering temperature. The Washington area wasn’t exactly a tropical climate, yet the air was warm and humid. Lucky for me, I didn’t mind the heat, but the bear lay panting and stretched out. “We need water!” I shouted to no one, and was answered by the frantic chatter of some kind of squirrel or bird. My throat burned with thirst, and I could only imagine how my furry friend was faring.
I longed to stand up straight. Stiff from lack of movement, my feet and hands constantly tingled. But every time I tried to rise, I tripped on my own bound limbs and tumbled without the use of my arms to break the fall. I tried to uncross my feet in their fetters, but the Lyhtan-hair rope held tight, and I was unable to loosen them even a little. Frustrated, tired, hungry, and parched, I let out a wild and primal scream that echoed all around me, bouncing back to my ears, taunting me with the helplessness of the sound.
The bear cowered away from me in his corner, and I laughed long and loud. I guess I was scarier than I thought.
The air began to cool with the setting sun, and my anger turned to despair. I was about to mark the passing of another day of captivity, having no idea how many more were to come. Tyler had betrayed me, lured me with love and devotion, and I had eaten every spoon-fed bite of it. Truly alone in this world, I had nothing more than a wild animal for company. I scooted closer to him as the sky darkened, more afraid of the loneliness than I was of being eaten. He didn’t protest as I cuddled deep into his shoulder, but sighed contentedly and licked the side of my face. I hoped he wasn’t just sampling the dinner menu.
Creatures stirred around us, both supernatural and natural. An owl landed in a tree branch above the cage, and I trembled, thinking of the bad omen it presented. In just the short time since my capture, a new and disturbing feeling had begun to take root deep in my soul. I was possessed with the feeling that every particle of my being had begun to shift, transform. The presence of this process frightened me more than the prospect of the coming hours, days, or weeks. The Sylph had been right. Xander’s fears of revealing my existence were well founded. Something had happened to me.
I was changing.
Chapter 26
I’d lost count of the days. For some reason, I thought I’d been locked up for three or four, but I was so weak from hunger and thirst that I merely passed the time slipping in and out of consciousness. Was Tyler really here, holding me prisoner? I held on to a small glimmer of hope that I was dreaming—or dying, and that the final, dark end would come soon.
At least I wasn’t alone. I had the strange, docile bear that shared the cell with me. He seemed to have taken up the habit of watching over me, and whenever I managed to wake, he’d be next me, mewling and worrying and rubbing his warm, soft face against mine. My world had been reduced to the cage. And, like my beastly companion, I had been reduced to a kept thing, ignorant of my purpose or fate. My entire existence was made up of ignorance, and I found myself laughing and crying hysterically in the moments before I succumbed to the welcoming void of darkness once again.
I dreamed. More than I ever had. Or maybe I just remembered the dreams more now than I had in the past. Fleeting images like a slide show floated through my subconscious, a montage of my past, present, and, perhaps, my future. I dreamt of Henry, handsome and cruel, beating me into a state of despair and loathing so intense, I found myself longing to become invisible. I wanted to melt into the dark places of night and remain there—strong and safe from human harm. I dreamt of Xander, beautiful and aloof. But rather than pull me toward him, he pushed me away, proclaiming my mere existence a threat to everything he held dear. I dreamt of myself, free from captivity, walking in the sunlight that permeated my skin, sparkling and luminous, until there was nothing left of me at all. And I dreamt of Tyler, again and again, drawn to him like a magnet. Wanting him no matter how he’d betrayed me.
Those hours of unconsciousness mingled with the days of wakefulness. I passed the time like a moth in a chrysalis, waiting to emerge as an evolved species. Change swirled within me, and though I was aware of it, I thought on it little, until the first time I recognized the transformation from day to night as a physical sensation. With almost perfect detail, the changing time washed over me. Its scent a mixture of rain and diminishing sunshine, twilight had become a woolen blanket—warm but rough as it scratched against my skin and rustled over my ears. Like a living clock, I marked every second, felt every hour. The clarity of it astounded me. The passage of time came to me as a living, breathing thing. I’d been in my cage for eight days, twelve hours, and forty-seven seconds.
A pair of small, bare feet came to a halt on the other side of the bars. I tried to lift my blurry gaze to see the face that went with those feet, but I was
so weak. I reminded myself I didn’t need my eyes to see, and I closed out the graying world around me to feel the being standing before me. Heat grew from the center of my chest, and I drew a shallow breath. One of my nine young tormentors belonged to those feet. The burning intensified as another and yet another approached. I curled into a tight ball, unable to bear the sensation of so many of them standing close. The bear pawed at me. He whined and sniffed my hair before giving me a nudge with his giant head. I panted through the pain, so intense it blazed a path through my body.
“Neither Shaede nor Lyhtan be. Mother, creator, the blood will see.”
“I need water,” I croaked, surprised at the sound of my own gravelly voice.
The teens giggled, their euphonious laughter like a thousand bells clanging in my ears. I pulled tighter into the protective ball. “Stop!” I cried, hoping there was some small fraction of force behind the word. “Stop it! I need fucking water! And food. Untie me! Get me the hell out of here!”
“Soon, Mother,” one of them said. “When night becomes day and day becomes night, the nine will come to claim their right.”
Mother. The word sounded foreign to my ears. “Please,” I sobbed, “untie me.”
“Soon, Mother,” a young voice said again, and they left. The burning receded from the center of my chest.
By slow degrees I lost my drive and the fight melted right out of me, pooling into submission. Time taunted me with its presence, and now the only escape I sought was sleep. Again I dreamt of Tyler. He lay next to me on a soft bed of grass, his naked body entwined with mine. A cool breeze washed the remnants of passion from our skin, and his soft kisses sent a trail of chills across my shoulder.
Bound to the moment, to the dream, to Tyler—I couldn’t escape.
“I love you,” he whispered, his voice becoming one with the wind. “I will protect you until I breathe my last breath, and love you beyond my life.”
I fought against the feeling that his words pulled from my soul. It swelled from the cold void of my heart and bloomed outward to overwhelm me with the strength of pure, untainted emotion. I’d been caught in my own sick fantasy. I tried to yell out, to scratch and claw my way to reality, to the real me waiting outside this time warp I was stuck in. Though I tried to speak, the words refused to come, and I averted my gaze, rolling my head away from him.
“Darian . . .” He whispered against my ear, “Darian . . .”
Something poked uncomfortably against my back and brought my body awake and back in touch with my mind. I moaned, the agony of my reality crushing the ecstasy of my dreams. Prodded again, I rolled over, shaking and barely able to support the weight of my body as I lifted myself to a kneeling position. It wasn’t much, but I was up. My head lolled, drooping in front of me. I tried to open my mouth, and my too-dry lips cracked and bled. My tongue, which felt like it was covered in scales rather than soft flesh, flicked out in a vain attempt to moisten my lips, and my stomach heaved at the coppery taste of blood.
“Wake up, Mother,” a singsong voice called out. “It’s time.”
“Eight days, twenty-two hours exactly,” I said, borderline delirious again. “Five seconds, six seconds, seven . . . eight . . . nine . . .”
“Yes, nine!” The voice interrupted. “The nine are waiting. Come, Mother, and give them life!”
The door to my cage swung open, and I tried to focus my blurry vision. Was the bear still there with me? Or was he a figment of my imagination, a companion created by madness?
The burning in my chest intensified as the teenagers entered the cell. I blinked and squinted to bring their young, lithe bodies into focus. Six of them circled me, and with great care, they cradled me in their tiny arms and carried me from the cage.
“No!” Every movement became dreamlike and weak. I felt the sun as it continued its arc in the sky, and also something else. The moon—I shouldn’t have been feeling it then—but the moon as well was traveling in its own arc toward the rising sun. “Night becomes day and day becomes night,” I whispered.
The will to live crept into me like a tiny point of light in a dark cave. Barely there but growing as I forced myself to consciousness. I couldn’t let it end this way—alone, betrayed and used. To better feel, I kept my eyes shut. I sensed my surroundings better this way, and I recognized the bubbles of pressure belonging to many Lyhtans before their stench reached my nostrils.
A Shaede stood nearby as well. Azriel. I thought of his cruel, sparkling eyes and seductive smile. Aligned with them or in charge of them—it didn’t matter. He was there, playing a part in my impending death. I reached farther, sending invisible feelers out around me in search of other creatures. I sensed something familiar, someone I thought I knew.
I was lowered onto a spongy surface, and I opened my eyes. Three of the menacing kids stood at my head and three at my feet, where they worked the fastenings of my bound wrists and ankles. On the moss-covered dais, they secured my limbs to each corner of the rectangular stone. At least it was a different position.
Come on, Darian. Keep your shit together. No matter what, I needed to remain lucid. I couldn’t let the lack of food, water, and comfort lull me into a submissive state. They wanted me dead or worse, but I refused to make it easy for them.
I silently counted the minutes, my new internal awareness marking not only the time, but also the path of the sun and moon across the sky as they traveled toward one another. It wouldn’t be long. In as few as sixty minutes, on the ninth day of my captivity, the moon would pass in front of the sun, and nothing good could come of it.
I lifted my head, searching for the cage. The bear had been removed and stood at the center of the clearing, a thick length of chain fastened at one end to a stake and at the other to the wide iron collar at its neck. The chain clanked and clamored with the thrashing of the bear’s head. He pulled against the restraint as he tried to slip from the collar. His gaze locked with mine and he froze before throwing his head back. The sound that issued from his mouth was a combination of fierce growl and vengeful bellow. As if he called out to me, the sound shouting my name, begging me to forgive him for not being able to save me.
I know how you feel, buddy, I thought as I lay my head back down against the cool stone of the dais.
Two shrouded figures approached the dais, and a feeling of familiarity rippled over me. I never wanted to see either one of them again, and at the same time, I hungered for one last glance. The painful emotions tore my composure to shreds. Quite a pair, the two of them made.
Looking like druids or mystical priests of a long-forgotten religion, they stood near my head and waited as the clearing became a stage. Around that stage gathered the many witnesses to my sacrifice. Lyhtans, each and every one. Their proximity pushed the breath from my chest as if a giant boulder had been suddenly rolled atop it. I estimated their numbers in the hundreds, and their many-voiced murmurs came to me as a dull roar.
The raven-haired teens entered the clearing next. Four boys and five girls dressed in deep crimson robes with hoods pulled back, serene smiles painted on their Michelangelo faces. The short, curling locks of their baby-soft hair, like raven feathers, shone against their fine porcelain skin. They chanted in their strange language, and each carried a shallow bowl. I wondered what they intended to fill them with—and fought a wave of pulsing nausea.
A stillness settled on the clearing, and even the bear stopped his wild thrashing and listened. My breath sped in my chest and I fought back the fear that threatened to drive me once again to the brink of sanity.
“Are you afraid to look into my face when you kill me, Azriel?” I directed my words to one of the hooded figures. The open confrontation bolstered my courage and helped to slow my racing heart. “Don’t tell me you’ve come this far only to hide behind a blanket when you do the deed.”
His icy laughter trickled from deep within the hood, and he reached back to pull the cowl from his dark head. He gazed down at me and smiled.
“Is this bet
ter?” he said, his voice as cold as his laughter.
I wasn’t sure it was. Maybe it was better to be killed by an anonymous stranger than someone you’d known in the biblical sense. “What about you, Tyler?” I asked, letting my bravado wash any trace of fear from my voice. “Why stop now? Let’s get this all out in the open.”
Strong and proud in his crimson robe, he lifted his hands to the hood and pulled it back. I tried to suppress the tears pricking behind my eyes, but I was too late, and pain won out over strength.
“Tyler,” I implored.
He stared off into space, eyes straight ahead, seeming to focus on nothing, and his mouth curved up in a handsome, detached smile. The bile rose in my throat, burning, nearly choking me. The bear snarled from the center of the clearing, echoing my rage and frustration at being duped by someone I’d cared for.
“It’s almost time,” he said.
“You asshole,” I said through clenched teeth. “How could you do this to me?”
“The nine must be set free,” he said, cut-and-dried. “When day becomes night, you will turn stone to flesh and the Enphigmalé will be free.”
Anxious murmurs ran through the crowd of Lyhtans, and I sensed an escalation in their excitement. Azriel smiled.
“Looks like your army is assembled and ready to go to work,” I said in an effort to buy time. “What’s your plan? Kill me, bring these statues to life somehow, and make war with Xander?”
“Why stop there?” Azriel asked. “A wrong must be righted, and the Enphigmalé will claim their rightful place. The true natural order will be restored. We will hold dominion over every creature, including the humans. And those who have wronged us will die.”
“I’m going to kill you,” I said, my voice as calm as an ice-covered pond. “And I’m going to take my time.”
Azriel chuckled, replacing his hood—a little like re-wrapping a present, in my opinion—and stepped away from the dais to take his place beside the bower. A light breeze stirred the willowy green, leafy branches that swayed above his head, framing him like a living portrait.
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