by A. R. Kahler
Sure enough, only moments passed before he heard the first inhuman cries. Monsters swarmed over the felled wall, swelling into the otherwise-quiet night like a plague. Tenn pressed himself closer to the wall, dared himself not to breath. Thousands of kravens flooded into the landscape. They ran toward the remaining highway, spread out and toward the mountains. Tenn prayed the twins had stayed in the circle. A huddle of kravens ran past him, so close he could have reached out and touched the decaying grey flesh. Their jaws drooled saliva and congealed blood, their teeth broken, their bloodshot eyes and sagging nostrils seeking out whoever had done this. He couldn’t help it. A kraven ran past—a boy, he thought, judging from the caked jeans and ripped shirt—and he laughed. Here he was, inches away from the monsters that had once made his hair stand on end. And they didn’t even see him. He shot a pulse of Earth into the creature, made it stagger. It fell to the ground only a yard to his left, and he watched as the other kravens piled on top of it. The sound of ripping flesh filled the air, along with a putrid scent he couldn’t place. Damn cannibals.
When the tide of kravens began to lessen, he edged along the opening and slipped into the town.
Guards huddled in a tight circle near the entrance, a few pointing at the wall and yelling. Tenn stayed far away, but he didn’t need to be close to hear the anger on their voices. What do you mean you couldn’t sense any magic? he could imagine them screaming. Another grin slashed across his face as he ran through the streets.
Don’t worry, he thought. Leanna will be dead before you can be held responsible.
The stench near the wall was overpowering. The place must have been a skiing village before Leanna turned it into her own personal prison and sweatshop. The buildings that lined the street all had high A-framed roofs and Swiss latticework hanging from the eaves. Dead strings of lights still twined over the roofs and empty windows. In spite of the smoke rising over the city, no fires burned within these dwellings. Still, Tenn could sense the people crowded inside, twenty or more to a house, all huddled together to stay warm. A few faces peeked timidly through the windows, drawn by the commotion outside, but not one of those gaunt figures stepped outside. Tenn couldn’t blame them. There were still kravens and necromancers roving the streets. He had no doubt that the citizens were only safe within their hovels, and even those weren’t guaranteed. He ran straight up the main street. It wasn’t hard to figure out where to go—the pedestal of earth was in the center of the town, the chateau atop it glowing white with electricity. The closer he got, the nicer the houses looked. Smoke came from a few of these chimneys, smoke that didn’t smell like coal or burning flesh. Wood smoke. If he closed his eyes and ignored the monsters running past him, he could have pretended he was camping in the woods, snow piling around his ankles… His eyes snapped open. The snow. He looked behind him, his heart hammering stupid stupid stupid, but the snow here was churned to hell and stained with dirt and…other things. Although his feet were making imprints, they were impossible to see in the churned-up muck. He sighed in relief. He might be invisible, but even a dumb kraven would notice footprints without a foot.
In minutes, he stood at the base of the earthen pedestal. It rose a good ten stories into the air, the sides sheer and glinting like granite. For a moment, he considered what it would be like having to scale the thing—not impossible, not with the strength of Earth, but not something he wanted to try—when he heard the clomp of boots to his right. He followed the noise and found a ramp cut into the side of the mound. Guards ran down in tight formation. They wore armor—like, medieval steel armor—and, of all things, carried assault rifles. The sight made him hesitate. Not out of fear—it was more the shock of seeing someone actually using a gun. Magic made bullets practically useless. Unless the guards had imbued each bullet with their own magic or blood, any mage could turn the projectiles against them.
When the guards passed by, heading the direction he had come, he made his way up the spiral ramp, keeping close to the wall lest another guard run past.
He didn’t meet any. Wind howled past him, eddying with scents of char and industry, bringing and hiding the cries of the Howls that scoured the city for whoever had dared breach their defenses. Again, a smile. Oh, how pissed they would be when they learned he’d snuck in.
He reached the top of the rise and took a moment to stare in wonder at the house. It was grand—two stories tall with all-white siding and Roman columns, the great picture windows glowing with soft electric lights. The lawn was covered in snow, miniature topiary dusted and glowing with inner lights. The sight made Tenn’s stomach roil. Just a hundred feet away, the rest of the town was dark and freezing. And here was Leanna, warm and comfortable, using more electricity in an hour than most of the States had seen in a year. He pushed through with Earth and felt for the figures inside. Again, he couldn’t tell who was who, but there wasn’t anyone resting now. Everyone was patrolling the labyrinthine corridors. He walked up to the front door. It was wood, with diamond glass windows that glinted invitingly. All this place needed was a tree glimmering in the foyer and it would look like a fucking Christmas card.
But now what? Could he sneak inside like before? He fed his senses through the door. Locked. Easy to fix with a flick of Earth, but would they notice? There was a small group of people in the front hall. Guards, no doubt. He bit the inside of his lip and wondered if maybe there was another entrance, one less guarded.
Then one of the guards opened the door.
It was a woman. She wore a thick black dressing gown. Her hair was black and spiraled behind her in loose ringlets. She left one crimson-manicured hand on the doorknob and scanned the exterior. Light-blue eyes, nearly grey. Tenn stiffened the moment that gaze swept over him. She looked awfully unarmed to be a guard. A necromancer, then?
“What is it?” someone inside called.
The corner of the guard’s lip curled into a tight grin.
“I do believe our guest has arrived,” she said. Her nostrils flared. His grip on his staff tightened.
She stepped out onto the stoop and closed the door behind her. It latched, the sound like a gunshot in the night air. Then, before he could think to act, she took a deep breath.
It hit him like a punch to the gut.
He fell to the ground, staff skidding into a snowdrift. Stars flashed across his vision. Breath left his lungs. He tried to gasp, hands clenched to his chest. Then the stars spun, and he spiraled into darkness.
38
Cold water hit him.
Tenn’s eyes snapped open, and he tried to turn away from the freezing current. He was face down on the concrete, the world a harsh mix of fluorescent light and cold. He blinked, spluttered, rolled over to his side. He tried to push himself up to standing, but that made his head swim. He stayed under the spray and shivered.
That’s when he saw his captors.
The woman from outside was there in front of him, still in the black dressing gown, the hem of which was getting soaked under the shower’s jet. A man stood by her side. He was tall and lean, wearing a T-shirt and slim jeans, his blond hair slicked back loosely. Something about his appearance made Tenn think of all the old commercials for surfing in California—the defined features, the nonchalant pose with his hands in his pockets. But it was the woman who had his full attention. Her eyes were fixed on him like a hawk. Which should have been impossible.
“Now,” the woman said. “I will ask you nicely. Remove whatever enchantments you are wearing, and we will talk. Otherwise, I will have Justin remove your limbs one by one.” The man at her side smiled even wider at the mention of his name.
Tenn glanced down at himself. Of course. They could see his shape in the spray. There was no doubt that they would follow through with the threat. He glanced around the room. He was in a basement. The water siphoned into a drain next to a dusty water heater, and the rafters above were covered in cobwebs. Even if he did manage to dodge these two, the woman could fell him in a moment. She was a breathless one. She
didn’t even have to be able to see him to take him down.
So, against all his better judgment, he opened to Earth and bled out the runes, leaving only the tracking rune on his wrist. They didn’t need to know about that one.
“Much better,” the woman said. “Now we can talk.”
She reached down and pulled him from the spray, yanking him to standing by the collar of his shirt. She looked willowy, but she nearly lifted him off his feet in that gesture.
“Who…who are you?” he asked. He tried to will his voice not to shake. It worked—mostly.
“Who do you think?” she asked, leaning over to whisper in his ear. Then, she did something that sent chills down his spine—she opened to Earth and shut off the tap.
“Leanna,” he said. He didn’t flinch back. There was no point—he wouldn’t get an inch away from her. He had thought, coming in, that maybe he had some sort of divine purpose, that he’d be able to walk right up to the bitch and kill her without breaking a sweat. He had the runes.
But the runes hadn’t saved him so far. They’d just help him walk straight into her clutches.
Leanna nodded.
“I take it this means you have killed him,” she said.
It took a moment for it to click. Of course. “Matthias,” he said. “Yeah, I killed him.” To be fair, he killed himself.
“Pity,” she said. There was nothing in her flat blue eyes to hint at any such emotion. “He was my favorite of pets.” She looked back to the man still lounging a few feet away. “We’ll have to find a suitable replacement. Perhaps one a little less arrogant.”
Justin nodded.
“What have you done with him?” Tenn asked.
“With whom?” Leanna said, turning her attention back to him. There was a hint of a grin at the corner of her mouth.
“You know who. Jarrett.”
For half a heartbeat, he worried her eyes would glaze over, that she’d admit to not knowing what he was talking about. Then that little grin widened.
“Ah, yes,” she said. “Of course. You’re here for your lover.”
“Where is he?” Tenn hissed. He was inches away from one of the Kin; he knew he wasn’t in any condition to make demands. He didn’t care.
“Alive,” Leanna said. “For now.”
“I want to see him,” Tenn said. His teeth grit together.
“Be careful what you ask for,” Leanna said, though she was looking at Justin. He stepped forward. “Justin, take our guest to his room. He has surely had a long journey. I want to make sure he’s comfortable.”
Justin nodded and stepped over to Tenn, throwing him over his shoulder fireman-style. Tenn wanted to map the place out, but all he could see was the floor and he was too drained to fight for a better view. Concrete, then the jolt of bounding up wooden stairs. A door opened, and Tenn was hit with a blast of warm air that smelled like cinnamon and fir as they went down a maze of white-carpeted hallways. He closed his eyes briefly. How long had he been unconscious in the basement? How long until sunrise and the twins started their attack? How the hell was he going to fight his way to Jarrett—and fight their way out—when he could barely move his head without being struck with pain?
They halted, and he heard the click of a door opening. All thoughts of fighting and escape were knocked from his head, along with the wind in his lungs, when Justin threw him to the ground. Tenn moaned.
“Don’t be such a pussy,” Justin said. He kicked Tenn in the side. Then he knelt down. “After all, you don’t want to fuck up your heroic entrance.”
He grabbed Tenn’s chin and forced his face to the side.
The room was white and dimly lit. And there, in the shadows, in a clean linen shirt and trousers, was Jarrett.
“I’ll let you two lovebirds reconnect,” he said.
Then Justin stood and left, the lock clicking into place behind him.
Jarrett’s eyes were closed. He didn’t register the noise of the door slamming. Tenn crawled over, his muscles screaming nearly as loudly as the hammer of his heart. Jarrett’s arms were twisted behind his back, his legs bound with rope in front of him, and his hair hung limp over a pale face. There were bruises under his eyes and a gag wrapped around his mouth. Tenn was crying before he even reached him. Jarrett was so still. So, so still. He reached out and put a hand to Jarrett’s face. The skin was warm. He gently removed the gag, swept the strands of hair behind Jarrett’s ear. More bruises. Jarrett didn’t move. When his chest rose, Tenn gave a small cry of relief.
“Jarrett,” he whispered. He brushed his forehead, touched his lips. Jarrett remained as still as the dead. “Please,” he whispered. His words were salty with tears. “Please be okay.”
He opened to Earth and tried to heal his lover’s wounds.
Tenn gasped.
The force of it hit like a blow to the gut. The moment he pressed the magic to Jarrett’s body, something took hold. A hunger so great, a void so vast, Tenn felt himself nearly swallowed by the pull. Earth screamed. He fell back, stared at his hands as though burnt. Then he looked at Jarrett. Really looked.
The sallow skin, the bruises that had nothing to do with being beaten. Jarrett hadn’t been attacked. His Sphere of Earth had been tapped.
The breath caught in Tenn’s lungs as he stared at his love, the man who was supposed to be everything—home, safety, salvation. The man who was only minutes away from turning into a kraven.
Earth was dying in Jarrett’s pelvis. It had been drained to the point of exhaustion, well past the point of replenishing itself. If it was pulled just a little bit more, it would implode and start the horrific process of turning Jarrett. But that hunger…that was more than Tenn’s magic could fill.
He stared at Jarrett and felt a horrible vise clench at his heart.
He was going to have to watch Jarrett die.
Again.
The door opened behind him, but he was too stricken to even turn around. The door closed with a click. Tenn could feel the intruder’s presence but wouldn’t look. He couldn’t tear his eyes off Jarrett. He reached out, touched Jarrett’s shoulder. He didn’t let go. Maybe if I just give him a little. If I try.
“This one, he has been such a charming guest. So polite.” Leanna. Tenn heard her step closer to them. “He’s been waiting so long for you to arrive. Imagine his delight when we heard the wall crumble! We knew who it was, of course. And so, I had him specially prepared for your arrival.”
“You did this to him,” Tenn said. The vice tightened, but a new emotion tinged his hopelessness—rage.
“In a sense,” Leanna said. “My necromancers have been practicing for ages to perfect it. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to pause the draining process right on the tip of conversion? Even the tiniest amount too much, and he would be nothing but a mindless kraven right now.” The swish of fabric, and he saw her kneeling beside him from the corner of his eye. “You should be honored. I did all of this for you.”
Tenn’s gut churned. He spared her glance.
“Why?” The word sounded so small. But in the face of this, he didn’t feel strong. He didn’t know why he’d ever thought he could save anyone.
“Because,” she said, “You are special. And I had to make sure you were the one before continuing.”
“What?”
She placed something in his free hand. It was warm and heavy, and it seemed to press against his heart like oil. He glanced down. It was a stone, smooth and black, inscribed with tiny marks that caught the light like quicksilver.
Tenn tried to let go, but she clenched his fingers around it. He felt bones grind.
“You know what this is, don’t you?” she asked. “You’ve seen this before.”
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t look away from Jarrett as a slow realization dawned. It took everything he had to push the thought away.
“But I would bet there’s something you don’t know,” she said. She turned his face to hers with her free hand.
; Before he could ask what the hell she was talking about, she opened to Earth again.
He saw and felt her filter energy into the stone clasped in their hands. But that was it. The runes didn’t glow. The stone didn’t shiver with energy. She closed off to Earth and let go of his hand, settling back on her heels.
“As you see,” she said, her voice tinged with bitterness, “although those are the words of the Dark Lady, one must be fully alive to use them.” She glanced out the window. “For some reason, the runes won’t activate for the Kin, even though we wield the Spheres like any of our…minions.” She nearly spat the word. “It’s the only reason we put up with those idiots in the first place.”
Why the hell is she telling me this?
Leanna looked back to him, and there was something in her eyes that made him wonder if she could read his thoughts.
“That is where you come in.”
“I don’t—”
“You don’t understand. Yes, I’m well aware.” She gestured to the stone. “Why do you think there are only six Kin? Why do you think we’ve settled for creating lesser bastards since the Dark Lady died?”
Tenn shook his head. Jarrett was dying in front of him. He didn’t have time for this. He should be healing Jarrett, not listening to this madwoman rant.
“Because she used special runes to bestow our abilities to use magic, but she took those secrets to her grave. No one has been able to access that language. Until you came along.”
That made him look at her. His heart did a flip. Did she truly think he’d…
“So this is your dilemma,” she said. She stood. “Jarrett is well beyond healing, as I’m sure you’ve already discovered. He will die very soon unless you do something to change it. The stone in your hand will push your lover over the edge and turn him into a kraven. He will lose his mind and every inch of beauty in that well-defined body. The runes are too inadequate to do anything else. But if you are truly able to read the Dark Lady’s language, if you can communicate with the gods, then you will be able to change that. You could turn him into one such as I—immortal, powerful, beautiful. And entirely in control of his Sphere’s hunger. You could grant him that gift. You’d have your future again.”