by Lucy Smoke
"What do you mean?" I ask. My voice comes out much less confident now.
"Your gift—" I want to scoff at what he calls being a daimon. A gift, when it has been nothing more than a terrible burden. The only good thing from my oppression, from my fear and journey has been...the guys...my potentials...and Obidian, my...friend, my mentor. "Your power," he continues, "comes from within you now, because you have a spirit guide. He's a strong one, even I can feel that. Soon enough, you'll be able to take even more. You'll be able to feel the untapped potential in every human, take it from them. Their potential gifts, powers. You'll grow to be powerful. As powerful as me. And together, we can take back this world from the Gods."
"If you're so powerful," I say. "Why can't you do it alone? Why do you need me?"
"Because it is better to have an ally with which to rule," he says. "Someone to be my partner. To be my...lover." I flinch as he reaches up and his finger—gloved, I realize—brushes against my cheek. Even through the cloth, I can feel the ice beneath. He's Death incarnate. He chuckles and the sound grates along my muscles and nerve endings. I don't realize what I've said aloud until he replies. "No, my dear, sweet daimon—I'm merely her child."
Something sharp slams into me and I scream. It’s a spike of pain descending from somewhere unknown...no, I realize, not unknown. There's a glimmer in his eyes. Something as close to amusement as this man—this monster—can possibly get. He's the pain.
"Don't worry," he says, "it only lasts for a little while and then you'll be under my control. A partner, remember?"
I look down and my skin is graying, spider web veins crawling over my arms the color of ink. I jerk away from him...or try to. But I can't move. Panic sets in. He closes his eyes, his hand caressing my cheek in a way that, from anyone else, might have been loving. But I recognize this evil now. I heard stories as a child, always thought they had been nothing more than fairytales of monsters in the dark to scare me into behaving. The Holy Women had told them with serious faces and hushed tones. They were right to fear this. Terror claws its way up my throat, through my body.
Nerys! I can't even sag in my relief, but I feel the hope that was fizzling under my skin, slowly slinking away rise in a burst of fiery light when I hear Obidian's call for me. Edwin frowns and he attempts to step closer, but something blocks him. His arm is forced back and when his gloved fingers leave my cheek, I can breathe again. Nerys, come back!
How! I scream back. How do I get back?!
I know I need to hurry, Obidian has interrupted whatever Edwin had intended to do, and Edwin is not happy. He stalks closer to me, eyes confused and drawn down in anger as he moves. He looks as though he's attempting to sludge through some thick substance—mud or tar or something that's making it difficult for him to reach me.
Open your eyes, Nerys, Obidian commands.
My eyes are open, though, and all I can see is the empty mind palace and Edwin, moving ever closer. I suck in sharp pulls of air, hyperventilating. I can't let him touch me again. I can't. I know something terrible will happen if I do. I take a step back, stumbling over nothing but my own two feet. Fear and panic bounce rampantly inside of me.
Nerys! Obidian yells at me. I can tell he's truly angry. His tone is sharp, deadly, forceful. I would give anything to have him in front of me, facing off with Edwin. I'm not strong enough for this. I'm just Nerys. I'm a nobody. Nothing. I'm less than nothing.
You're not less than nothing, Princess.
My fear abates at my confusion. Holden? I call back shakily.
Little daimon, it's time to come back.
My confusion intensifies. Luca?
Nerys, you need to open your eyes.
Titus.
Nerys...
Booker.
The only one missing is Coen. I need to do what they say. I need to open my eyes. I must be dreaming. This is only a dream. If I just wake up, he can't touch me. If I open my eyes, I'll be able to see Coen again. I just...need...to...
I squeeze my eyes closed as hard as I can, concentrating all of my energy and willing myself back to where I'm supposed to be. I think of the dirt under my nails. The cold ground at my back. The warmth surrounding me on all sides. My eyelashes flutter open, and I see Luca, Holden, and Titus crowding around me. Their faces all a mask of concern. There's a flashing of light behind them and I hear Booker call out.
"This is it!" he yells. "It's time to go. Now!"
"Sorry, Princess," Holden says. A split second later, I'm up and in his arms and he carries me forward, my head lolling against the side of his shoulder. Behind him, I see Titus and Luca lift and carry Coen, still dead to the world—Gods, bad thought. He's not dead, I remind myself. I look down at my arms thinking of Death...Edwin...my skin doesn't exactly look as healthy as it probably should. It's sallow and pasty. My veins stand out along my arms. But at least my skin isn't gray, and my veins aren't black.
Holden stalks forward to where Booker stands with his hands raised and his face strained. Booker glances over at us as we step up to the doorway. His worried, green eyes meet mine. There's a sliver of pain in there, as though whatever he's doing is pulling more from him than it appears. The door, I realize, is from Coen's shack—this was the plan all along. It's glowing bright red, the symbols of the lettering lit up and burning brightly as if they are being scalded even deeper into the wood.
"What do I do?" Holden asks, looking at Booker.
Booker turns back to the door and chants something in a language that I can't understand. When he finishes the door slams open. I stare in shock because it's merely leaned up against the side of a building in an alley. But there's a gaping hole of white light on the other side. "Walk through," Booker tells us between gritted teeth. "Hurry."
Holden nods and strides forward, Luca and Titus close behind with Coen. I look over Holden's shoulder again, as the light engulfs us. Booker's face strains as he steps closer to the doorway. His eyes meet mine once more as Holden and I pass through and something flashes over his expression that I can't quite read. It's a mixture of darkness and fear. I don't like it. I don't like it one bit.
We step through and somehow end up standing right outside Luca and Booker's living quarters. Or outside the building, at least. We're back in Ragnarok and it's still night time. That's not quite as much of a surprise as our location. Ragnarok is only a few days travel from Euron, it's a given that it's night time here since it was night time there. It's not like we jumped time periods.
Holden keeps me pressed to his chest and I don't ask him to put me down. I'm still trembling. A flash of light pops on our right and Titus and Luca are there, gently leveraging Coen to the ground. Another flash of light to our left and Booker stumbles over the sidewalk and nearly crashes headfirst into the stone steps leading up to the front doors of their building. Thankfully, Luca jumps up and catches him before he takes the complete dive.
"Thank you, my friend," Booker says, tiredly.
Luca helps him to sit on the steps across from Coen. A woman across the street gapes at us with a basket of something that looks like oranges. When my eyes meet hers, she closes her mouth and hurries away as fast as she can, never once looking over her shoulder. I guess we must look like a mess what with me shaking like a leaf while Holden carries me up the front steps, Coen passed out on the stairs and even the giant Booker slumped over, looking like he's about to throw up. We're more than a mess, I think, we are absolutely wrecked.
4
Homecoming
Luca helps Booker inside, and Holden has to set me down so he can help Titus lift Coen. I follow close behind our haggard, broken, little group as we ascend the stairs into the building and make our way to Luca and Booker's living chambers. The door slams open as Booker stumbles and bashes into it, his back rolling to hit the wall of the entryway just inside. Luca sighs and bends down to heft Booker up and over his shoulder with a grunt. My eyes widen in shock. I expect Booker to start protesting, but he has either passed out or he truly is too tired to
care because he doesn't utter a peep as Luca carries him into the chambers and towards the rooming areas.
Holden and Titus have settled Coen against the wall and closed and locked the door. Their eyes bore into my face. I'm shaking, I realize, when Holden approaches. He nudges my chin with a gentle finger, getting me to finally look up into his eyes. The rich soil-brown irises are still filled with secrets and something else that I'm not sure I'm ready to address just yet.
"Are you okay?" he asks. I nod even though I'm not so sure that I am. But he believes me because he takes a breath and then continues. "Then can you tell us what the hell that was?"
"Holden." Titus doesn't say anything more than his name, but in his tone is a warning. Holden flicks his gaze back to Titus for a brief moment before returning to my face. His is pale, exhausted, with dark circles creasing beneath each eyelid.
"You scared the shit out of us, Princess," he says, his tone a little more gentle, but no less absolute. "If you're okay now, please...tell us what the fuck just happened."
"I-I..." I have to stop myself and take a breath. I'm panting as though I just ran all the way from Euron to Ragnarok rather than stepped through a portal and ended up back home...or Booker and Luca's home. "I think...I met the thing that killed King Matric."
Holden and Titus both stare at me, their gazes full of concern, shock, and confusion. Titus steps forward, around Coen, his hand reaching out to me when a deep voice full of unfamiliar authority stops him. "Not tonight." All of our heads turn to the end of the hall that leads into the green room living area. Luca stands there, his face more serious than I've ever seen it before. I would have said he was Booker, but even Booker has never looked this dark before. He doesn't move when we all look to him.
"I will carry Coen to his room where he will rest and heal. The three of you should find a room—there are enough for everyone—and bunk down for rest and healing. Booker will be out until morning. Once everyone has had a chance to sleep for a few hours, we will come back together and discuss what happened," he says.
"Do you know?" Titus demands. "Do you know what happened?"
Luca shakes his head and moves further into the hall. Holden and Titus both take a step back and I look at them with eyebrows raised in shock. There's no way they could think that Luca would hurt them. Luca merely passes us and bends over to heft Coen onto his back as he had Booker. He huffs as he straightens his legs. "Tomorrow," he says, moving around us once more.
For several long seconds, Titus, Holden, and I all stare after him. Then, as if breaking some sort of spell, Titus finally releases a breath and comes closer, Holden behind him. They each take one of my hands and lead me to the green room before tugging me up towards the bedrooms. They find one that is empty and then push me inside. None of us even bother to remove clothing. I take one look at the bed and crawl into the center of it, releasing a relieved breath.
Holden crawls in on one side and Titus on the other. I don't even have the energy to ask them what they're doing or why they're sharing my bed, and though I expect some sort of fight from each of them, they don't even utter a protest of the other one being there. Instead, as a trio, we close our eyes and sink into blissful sleep...but the dreams that pull me under are all filled with spiders and smoke and ice.
I wake slowly, my head full of hot air. It takes me several tries to open my eyes to the rest of the room. One thing I notice, though, is that Titus is gone. He had climbed into the bed in front of me the night before. Where he was resting hours before, the bed is empty and cold as if he's been gone for quite a while. But a warm anchor of an arm around my waist is still there. Very gently, I turn over.
Holden's sleeping face is adorable. His mouth hangs slightly open and when he breathes, his chest rises and falls in such a relaxed way that it makes me want to close my eyes and burrow closer to fall back asleep as well. I'm not watching him for more than a few moments when his eyelids flutter open and those teasing, confusing eyes of his center on me. His arm tightens around me and draws me closer. I don't stop him. When his lips nuzzle against my cheek and slip down my jawline, I sigh and move against him. He groans and then dips his head and presses his forehead to my shoulder, turning and nipping lightly at my skin. I gasp.
The door opens and when I try to jerk away, he keeps me secured to his side as he raises his head and looks down the length of the bed. Titus is there, in fresh clothes, and an unreadable expression. I, too, raise my head. Titus' serious, sky-blue eyes glance from Holden to me and back.
"He's awake," he says before turning and leaving.
Holden and I stay still for a moment. At first, I think he means Coen and then I realize he could also mean Booker. Both were in horrible conditions the night before. Holden sighs and then presses a light kiss to my lips that startles me. I don't have time to consider it deeply, though, because in the next moment he's sliding out of the bed and heading towards the open doorway. He pauses just on the other side of the door and looks back.
"Are you coming?"
I blink dumbly before nodding and inching towards the side of the bed. I throw the covers aside as I climb out, and when my feet touch the ground, I realize I went to bed with my boots on. I briefly consider pulling them off, but decide against it, instead, following after Holden and taking his hand as I enter the hallway. Something inside me enjoys having his skin against mine. Obidian is strangely quiet.
Booker is awake and sitting in the green room with glassy eyes and a haggard expression. He must have slept the entire night through, but he still looks like he hasn’t had rest in days. It must have been the spell he did, I guess. I didn’t realize how much it would take out of him. Luca hovers protectively and when I enter, they both glance in my direction.
“How are you feeling?” Holden directs his question to Booker as he moves towards him. I keep forgetting that they were once friends as children, and they’ve known each other a lot longer than the rest of us have.
Booker blinks before rubbing his forehead with long fingers. He sits back and stares ahead. “I’ve been better,” he finally says.
Holden snorts. “Yeah, that’s obvious.”
Booker struggles to his feet and I can tell that he’s unsteady still. “Maybe you should stay down,” I suggest. “Conserve your strength.”
“She’s right,” Luca says. His tone is hard, it brooks no argument. It’s a little startling coming from him. Luca gently pushes Booker back down and even more surprisingly, Booker doesn’t resist. He must be a lot worse off than I originally thought.
“Someone needs to check on Coen, needs to make sure he’s healing properly,” Booker says. Then he turns his gaze up to Luca. “Did you give him the potion I made beforehand?”
Luca nods. “Of course.”
“What potion?” I ask.
Booker shakes his head at me. “It’s nothing to be concerned about,” he says.
“Well, I am. So, tell me what potion you’re talking about.” I can feel my hackles rising.
Booker sighs. “I wasn’t sure in what state we were going to find him,” he finally admits. “I just wanted to be prepared. I knew I wouldn’t be of much use after the transportation spell. I brewed a potion beforehand and gave it to Luca. It’s just supposed to jumpstart the physical healing process. He’ll heal at a faster rate than normal.”
“He’ll heal at a Changeling rate,” Luca says. “Booker took some of my blood to make it.”
I feel like the shittiest person in the whole of Ragnarok, perhaps the whole world. “I’m sorry, that was really...thoughtful of you.” I don’t ask when they would have had time to make this potion. I feel like I’ve already questioned them enough.
“It’s alright,” Booker assures me with a wave of his hand. “You have reason to be concerned.”
No, I don’t. They’ve proven themselves to be my...potentials...protectors? More. They’ve proven themselves to be more. They’re my…friends. With a start, I realize the truth of that. I’ve never had another friend asi
de from Coen. But I know it’s true. If any of them had been taken, I would have felt just as bad. I would have wanted to save them just as much. Why does that make me feel like things are getting a little too complicated?
“I think you and Titus and Luca should pay a visit to Madam Armaita,” Booker continues. “It’s important to get her opinion on what’s happened.”
“Why?” Holden is the one who asks this time.
“Because she’s close with the Council over Ragnarok,” Booker states. “I have a feeling that we may have gotten away this time, but that doesn’t mean this is over.” Booker looks directly at me, his deep, moss colored eyes are serious and worried. “I’d also like to have her check out Nerys.”
I gulp. “I-I’m fine.” I’m definitely not fine. Not after Edwin’s little foray into my mind. But we don’t really have time to see if it’s affected me physically right now. We need to concern ourselves more with keeping it from happening in the future.
Every single guy in the room looks at me with similar expressions of frustration, concern, and a little bit of amusement. “You’re projecting, Princess,” Holden whispers in my ear.
My face flames as I blush.
I pause outside of the door, my hand shaking as it reaches for the knob. Luca looks at me, and in his eyes I can see he seems to understand. He reaches out to open it for me, ever the gentleman. But a noise in the room has me gripping his hand instead, stopping him.
His gaze jerks back to mine, but I'm focused solely on the low tones coming from behind the door. Without caring that Luca is standing right there, I move closer, pressing my side up against the door frame.
"It's going to be okay, we'll get you help," I hear Holden's reassuring words as he talks to Coen and it both melts and breaks my heart. I clench my fist, my nails biting into the palm of my hand.