Martyr

by A. R. Kahler

  They ate the rest of the meal in silence.

  The twins got up to leave shortly after finishing, saying they had been given a bedroom for the night. Tenn stopped them.

  He couldn’t tell them about Tomás—he had a feeling the incubus would classify that as defying him and he didn’t want the twins to be targeted—but Matthias was another beast altogether.

  “What do you know about dreams?” he asked.

  Dreya raised an eyebrow.

  “What do you mean?”

  Tenn bit his lip.

  “Matthias,” he said. “I think he’s following me. In my dreams. I think that’s how he found us.”

  “Perhaps,” she said. “It would not surprise me, powerful as he is. Especially if Leanna has trained him.”

  It wasn’t the response he expected.

  “What do I do?” he asked. “How do I keep him out?”

  Devon answered.

  “You want revenge. Why would you hide from him? Let him hunt us. It saves us from running after him.”

  Tenn could only stare at him, and thankfully, Dreya picked up the slack.

  “My brother has a point,” she said. “Matthias will be tracking us no matter what. He does not abandon the chase. He cannot hurt you in your dreams. And if he uses them to find us, well…we know to be prepared. Here, at least, we are safe from him.”

  “You seem so sure of that,” Tenn said.

  “We are,” Dreya said. “For this is not a part of the reality we know. Matthias has no access to Maya. He cannot step foot here. Nor can anyone else. So long as we reside within the halls of this temple, we are safe.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “And it will take more than one evening to learn,” she said. “Just know that here, in this place, the outer world cannot reach you. That is why we must rest. That is why we can rest.” She gave him a quick hug. “Good night, Tenn. We shall see you in the morning.”

  With that, they opened the door and left.

  Tenn remembered the way Erin brushed aside his question of where this was. Was it possible? It was rumored the Priests of Maya lived in a place set apart, which is why they needed the Voices to communicate. He wasn’t ready to claim anything was impossible.

  It wasn’t until he had curled up under his covers and blown out the bedside candle that he was hit with a terrifying thought. If only Priests attuned to Maya could reach this place, how had Tomás managed it?

  The thought didn’t hold for long. As exhaustion rolled over him, the panic was replaced by an emptiness he had been able to ignore in the twins’ presence. The bed was large. Suffocating. Tenn reached out an arm for the body he knew he’d never touch again. His fingers twined into cold sheets.

  Tears filled his eyes as the weight of Jarrett’s absence filled him. He barely even noticed as Water unfurled within his chest and dragged him down into a troubled, dreamless sleep.

  20

  The room was glowing when Tenn awoke, and it took him a few moments to convince himself he wasn’t dreaming. Candles and torches were lit, casting the whole room in a soft, warm light. He was certain he’d extinguished all of them before he fell asleep. Whether it was the magic of the Priests or a forgotten visit from Tomás, he wasn’t certain, but as he rolled over in bed, the thought was quelled as a new reality drove home like a shard of ice.

  His bed was empty. This was the first day of the rest of his life without Jarrett. And that thought, that realization, made his chest ache.

  He took a few deep breaths and tried to keep Water from opening. By some miracle, it didn’t come alive to torment him, but he knew how Water worked. If he let himself sink, even for just a moment, it would take over. He needed to keep moving. The moment he stopped, he was done for.

  He pushed himself from bed and went into the bathroom to shower. The shower walls were smooth, black stone, and the water poured from the ceiling like rain. The luxury of it was lost on him, however, and when he finally stepped out and got dressed, he still felt cold and unclean. He didn’t have long to think on it, though; there was a knock at the door a few minutes after. This time, it was the twins carrying a tray of food.

  “Good morning,” Dreya said as she stepped inside. “We’ve brought breakfast.”

  Tenn tried to smile, but the truth was his appetite was long gone. He felt rested, sure, but he definitely didn’t feel any better. Still, when she set the tray down, he joined them in eating. The only thing Dreya said was that Erin had told them where to go when they were ready to leave. After that, the meal was silent, which he was more than okay with. He never had to worry about small talk with the twins. It wasn’t necessary.

  When they finished, Tenn had nothing to pack except for his staff. He grabbed it from beside the door and followed them out into the hall.

  “This place is very beautiful,” Dreya said, reaching out a hand to caress a leaf the size of a car that draped over the balustrade. “I hear there is another place, similar to this. Run by the Violet Sage.”

  “The what?” Tenn asked.

  “The Violet Sage,” she answered. “She is the only one to master all four Spheres. She runs a sanctuary, somewhere in the heart of Japan. I hear it is also breathtaking.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Very few have. That is how it remains safe. Imagine, a whole sanctuary dedicated to understanding the Spheres. I should like to see it.”

  “Maybe you will,” Tenn said. “After all this.”

  She looked at him sadly. “I would like to believe that, but I do not enjoy lying. Not even to myself.”

  He bit the inside of his lip and kept walking.

  Erin was waiting for them at the end of the hall, an old man beside her. He looked like the epitome of a wise old sage—from the long, dust-covered robes to the wispy beard that curled past his waist. He sat on a wooden stool, watching the three of them approach with glazed brown eyes that were heavily flecked with purple.

  “Are you ready to leave, then?” Erin asked when they neared. Tenn nodded. Erin gave a small smile, then stepped over, took his hand, and placed it in the man’s grip.

  “Marcus,” she said in a delicate whisper. “Tenn and the others are here to see you. They are ready for the return journey.”

  The man’s eyes surveyed them, though it was obvious he was either blind or close to it. Lines etched across his face, and his skin was loose. But his grip was firm and warm; it didn’t waver, not even in the slightest.

  “It is a pleasure,” Marcus said. His voice was gravelly and just as warm as his grasp. “I have waited a long time to meet you. And to have the honor of aiding you on your path is a great blessing.”

  Tenn studied the man, his gut sinking with every other word. He knew the price Marcus was about to pay, and he had no doubt that the act of taking them back would kill him. But Marcus was smiling, as though that death was the greatest gift Tenn could give. These people really were crazy.

  “Th-thank you,” Tenn managed. There wasn’t anything else to say.

  Erin handed the twins a bag each. Marcus didn’t let go of Tenn’s hand while they slung the provisions over their shoulders, and Tenn couldn’t take his eyes off the guy. He looked like the grandfather he’d always wished he had. The type that would tell you stories at night and sneak candy in with your breakfast. The type that spoiled you on holidays and made sure you ate your vegetables. Tenn’s breath hitched, and he looked away, down to the floor. He didn’t need any more reminders of the life he’d never have. The end is just beginning.

  “Be safe in your travels,” Erin said, clasping him on the shoulder. Then she stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “We will meet again, Hunter. When the final days come, we will rally to your side.” She turned and walked away. Before Tenn could say anything—to ask what she meant or thank her for their kindness—he felt his stomach twist. The world lurched around them. Candles stretched to smears of flame in the darkness, and then the world went black.

  Stepping back
into the real world felt like stepping into a nightmare. Black inked into flat grey skies and a field as dark as pitch. For a moment, Tenn thought they had been taken somewhere new. But then he recognized the steel frame of their SUV smoldering a few feet away, and he realized the awful truth: this was the town. Everything within had been burnt to ash.

  There wasn’t any time to let the landscape sink in. The old man stumbled, the ash at his feet billowing up in a swirl of black dust. Tenn knelt down at his side, still holding his hand tight. The old man didn’t look panicked. He was staring up at Tenn with the same blind smile as when they met. Tenn felt the twins edge in close behind him. At first, Tenn thought it was bits of ash that were floating away from the man. Then he realized it wasn’t ash at all. Flurries of flesh wafted away on the wind as Marcus unraveled before their eyes.

  “It has been an honor, Hunter,” Marcus said. His voice was strong. His hand squeezed Tenn’s tighter. “A great honor.”

  Then, without so much as a groan or sigh, the man burst into a cloud of dust that drifted out and up into the heavens. Tenn knelt there, holding onto empty air, and closed his eyes against the sight. Another innocent had died because of him. He took a long, deep breath and tried to calm Water as it raged with guilt inside of him. It wasn’t just guilt, though—this place was alive with emotion, the landscape steeped in pain and loss. The madness spoke to his Sphere, coaxed it to life, and Tenn struggled to keep it from pulling him under. This is where Jarrett died. This is where Jarrett died. This is where…

  Enough was enough.

  “Which way?” he asked.

  He pushed himself up to standing and wiped the ash off his jeans. He wasn’t certain if it was from the ground or Marcus.

  The twins shared a glance, and Devon opened to Air. The Sphere flickered like a ball of smoke behind the folds of his scarf. When that faint light went out, he shrugged his white coat closer around him and turned. Dreya didn’t answer for him. She didn’t need to. The three walked away from the devastation in silence.

  Tenn didn’t look back. Not once. He didn’t want to remember the place where his future died.

  It was impossible to tell the time of day through the heavy clouds, but it couldn’t have been too late. Everything in the world was grey and white and shadow, even after they left the smoldering town far behind. The trees closed in thicker along the sides of the highway, tall evergreens and bare oaks, their branches hissing in the wind. The snow was deeper here, and the sky seemed heavy. The air grew colder with every step, but it wasn’t just the inevitability of more snow that made chills cross over Tenn’s skin. It was the road sign they passed a few hours in, a sign that sparked more than one memory he hoped he’d never have to experience again.

  SILVERON ACADEMY FOR THE MAGICAL ARTS:

  20 MILES AHEAD

  The green sign was pockmarked with bullet holes. Below it, the words bright and crisp-white against a black background, was a sign he’d become all too familiar with in the days before the Resurrection.

  MAGIC IS SIN AND

  ALL WHO USE IT

  ARE THE DEVIL’S MINIONS

  The Howls weren’t the first monsters spawned by the Spheres. The protesters had almost been worse.

  At least Tenn had never heard of a Howl barricading children in a school for magic and burning it down. That had been in Texas, after his parents had allowed him to go to Silveron. His school had never suffered the same fate, but that didn’t mean the locals enjoyed having a ticking time bomb so close to their homes.

  If he was lucky, they’d pass right on by the school without either of the twins being the wiser. He was already raw enough; he didn’t need to face those ghosts right now. He’d never spoken to them about his past and vice versa—it was courtesy. So he kept quiet and walked a little faster while the wind picked up and the sky grew dark. The idea of driving again crossed his mind, but Matthias could be anywhere and the road was treacherous. The potential convenience wasn’t worth the risk.

  In truth, he would have given anything to strike up a conversation. Every step taken in silence was another moment for him to reflect, another small struggle with Water, which wanted nothing more than to drag him under with despair. The numbness was wearing off, the shock of Jarrett’s death seeping out of his bones. A small part of him had been hoping that when they were taken back, Jarrett would pop out of some basement safe-house or something and the four of them would continue on as usual. He knew from the very start that it was a dumb hope, blind at best, but that didn’t quench the fire. Not until he’d seen the devastation for himself and knew deep down that nothing and no one had survived. Matthias’s army had done its work and moved on.

  Which also meant they were still out there somewhere. Maybe very close.

  Tenn was almost hoping that was the case.

  Something on the horizon caught his attention, a glow that seemed unnatural. At first, he thought it was a campfire, some signal that the army was near, but the light was white, not a flickering orange. It almost looked electric.

  “What is that?” he asked.

  Dreya followed his gaze, none of them slowing their pace.

  Air flickered in her throat, a brief flash of power that disappeared in an instant. She gasped.

  “A sept,” she whispered.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. He wanted to open to Earth and stretch his senses out, but he knew that much power would draw attention. “What the hell is a sept doing this close to the Academy?”

  Dreya glanced at her brother. Their pace quickened.

  “I am certain,” she said. “Though I have no idea what they are doing out here.”

  The septs were the only other established human communes beside the guilds. These, however, were created and ruled by the Church. He had no idea how the places managed to survive the undead hordes, no matter how high their walls. Without the magic they deemed as evil, they should have gone under in the first few weeks. Rumor was their faith kept them safe, but Tenn had seen enough of faith to know it didn’t keep the monsters from tearing out your bones and sucking them dry while you bled out on the concrete.

  “I don’t like it,” he said. “How long have they been here?”

  Dreya shrugged, but he hadn’t expected an answer anyway. All he knew was he wasn’t comfortable with a sept this close to a place he had once called home.

  “Keep your eyes open,” Dreya said. “If there are any Inquisitors about…”

  She didn’t have to finish the thought.

  Inquisitors stayed true to their ancient charge—wipe out witchcraft in any of its forms. Which lumped mages with Witches and necromancers and anyone else they didn’t like.

  Tenn had heard enough horror stories of mages tortured by Inquisitors, had seen the bodies after they’d been hung up as examples. He had no clue how the Inquisitors were able to capture, let alone torture, mages when they themselves eschewed magic, but if he had to choose between a necromancer and an Inquisitor, he’d pick the necromancer. Necromancers weren’t known for thumbscrews.

  “This is bad,” Dreya said. She kept sharing glances with her brother, who was staring at the glow on the horizon with narrowed eyes. Fire twitched on and off in his chest, making the snow around them flicker orange and red. “If the Witches are nearby…I do not like to think of what has been done to them.”

  Devon reached out and put his hand on Dreya’s shoulder, his eyes softening.

  “They’re okay. They’re smart,” he whispered through his scarf. Then he caught himself and shrugged deeper into his coat.

  They hurried on, trying to put as much space between them and the sept as possible. The last thing they needed was to be caught out here by a wayward priest or Inquisitor. There wasn’t any repenting, no way of getting out. Once you were deemed tainted by magic, the only way to purification was a slow and painful death.

  If they let you die, that is.

  It wasn’t until the glow was lost to the grey of the horizon that Tenn let his shoulders relax.
His nerves were still on fire with the approach of the Academy, but that was minor to the fear that the Church and its Inquisitors struck through his bones. Minor, until Dreya spoke.

  “We should stop soon,” Dreya said. Her voice was a whisper, but it still cut through the oppressing silence of the highway. It set his nerves on edge. He knew precisely what she would suggest next. “At the Academy. It is near.”

  “It is,” Tenn said. He let his words trail off, hoping it didn’t sound too much like a question.

  “Are you okay with this?” she asked. The hesitation stalled him. “Jarrett told us you attended here. Would it be too much for you? To see it again?”

  Of course it would be too much. But the words he wanted to say opposed what was wise. He didn’t need the twins’ magic to know that another snowstorm was coming soon. The clouds overhead seemed to be within arm’s reach, and the wind was picking up with a vengeance. If it didn’t blizzard, he would be amazed, and the last thing they needed was to be caught out in the middle of it. Especially if more magic would just attract the army or the sept.

  “It’s fine,” he said. “There’s nowhere else to stop around here. Not for another twenty miles.” And it was true. The Academy had been built as far away from the nearest town as seemingly possible, surrounded by woods and lakes and wrought-iron fencing. They wouldn’t make it to the next town by nightfall.

  He didn’t curse his shitty luck. At this point in the game, he basically figured that anything that could go wrong would. And he would just grin and bear it.

  Dreya nodded. When they passed the next exit, the one leading to the heart of Silveron, Tenn sped up and took the lead. Once the first trees closed in above him, he steeled himself and quelled the twist in his gut. Time to face the demons.

  21

  The road that led to Silveron quickly changed from concrete to gravel, the grit crunching under the snow. Overhead, the branches stretched like black veins, pulsing memories into the twilight and bleeding through his mind. How often had this path haunted him? All the dreams of death and destruction, the final flight from this place. All the times he returned in his sleeping, drifting like a ghost through the rooms of his past. And now, here he was, walking that very path. It didn’t feel any more real than the dream. Except this time, there was no hope of waking up.