“If the potion doesn’t work…” Vanderain hesitated, “we’ll have to try permanent Uqari cuffs.”
“But that would cut off all of our magic, not just the demonic,” said Evan.
“I know.” Vanderain nodded sadly.
“And if the cuffs don’t work either,” said Brooke. “You’ll lock us up, won’t you?”
Evan was shocked by Brooke’s words, but by Vanderain’s expression he realised she was right.
“I hope it doesn’t come to that. But if there’s the slightest chance you might unleash your sorcery and harm another Venator, then imprisoning you may be the lesser evil. It wouldn’t be a real prison. We could sort out large tower rooms for you. You’d be comfortable and looked after.”
“We’ll just never be able to leave,” Evan said numbly.
“I’m confident it won’t come to that,” said Vanderain. “I’ve used Emerald Shade when dealing with Dread Lords I’d held captive. None of them had been able to wield their magic after drinking. I’m afraid I must check to see if the Shade has worked on you two, however. To be safe.”
Evan felt his heart begin to quicken.
“Each of you have only summoned demon magic when in great pain or anger. I’m sorry, but I must use that to attempt to draw the demon sorcery out of you. Hopefully the sorcery does not appear.”
“Okay,” Evan gasped, sharing a nervous look with Brooke.
Vanderain leaned forward and placed a hand on each of their arms. At first he felt only a tiny prickling on his forearm. Whatever spell Vanderain was performing on them was invisible, but Evan could feel the immense power being used.
Vanderain closed his eyes and the prickling on his arm turned into a burning. Evan fought not to flinch away and he heard Brooke gasp as she did the same. He could feel his blood racing through his veins as Vanderain spell worked its way deeper into him, down into his soul. Suddenly the chamber around him vanished, replaced by leering grotesque faces. Demons of all kinds pressed against him, leaving no escape. Evan couldn’t even see himself, yet felt his body trembling from fear and pain. He knew the monsters weren’t there, that Vanderain was using his fear to draw out the demon magic. But then the demons faded and everything went silent. Evan saw only darkness ahead of him until a pair of purple eyes bloomed in the distance. The eyes bored into him, inching ever closer. His fear had turned into something stronger. Whoever owned those purple eyes was worse than any demon. Vanderain’s chamber abruptly returned and the pain evaporated.
Evan stumbled back, confused and exhausted. Vanderain looked exhausted too, but relieved.
“It worked,” Vanderain rasped. “I felt the demon sorcery within you both, but it was unable to escape.”
“So… it’s over?” Brooke said faintly. Her face was unnaturally pale as she slumped in her chair. “We don’t have to worry anymore?”
Vanderain grimaced. “No. There’s no quick fix for this. Your situation is unprecedented. I still need to learn all I can about demonic powers and how I can teach you too to control your own.”
“But, can’t we just drink this potion once a month, for years if we have to,” Evan said. He could tell his voice was full of desperate anxiety.
“No. Prolonged use of the Emerald Shade can cause permanent deafness and blindness.”
“But we just drank it,” Brooke cried.
“Relax,” Vanderain chuckled. “You can take the Shade for many months before experiencing the negative effects. We have brought ourselves some time, but the threat remains. You both must learn to control your demon sorcery before the potion is no longer an option.”
Evan’s elation after taking the Shade had sunk significantly. He’d hated the way he’d felt when he’d triggered the mist before, and that was before he knew it sucked out the souls of its enemies. He didn’t want to ever use the demon power again, even to learn how to control it. But it seemed he had no choice.
“So, what next?” Brooke asked.
Vanderain smiled mysteriously. “One of my agents in the realms has received a lead on possible demon magic use by a human. It looks like you could be meeting one of your siblings soon.”
Chapter 13- Demonology
Days bled into weeks and the blazing twin suns began to surrender earlier each day. The long Veneseron summer yielded into the grasp of a multi-coloured fall. The fingers of autumn brushed against the Fortress in the form of ivy crawling through the windows and piles of leaves that made their nests in the fields. Rain became an almost daily occurrence. The castle walls were often slick and dripping. Veneseron’s rivers kept overflowing and a fresh storm struck every three or four days.
But Brooke found the weather comforting, especially when walking through the warm and brightly lit castles whilst a storm raged outside. She loved listening to the wind howl and echo off the walls and watching rain lash against the windows when she was in class.
After nearly two months as a Mid-Realmer, Brooke could tell she was becoming a more adept sorcerer. Her magic was regenerating quicker, her battle reflexes becoming faster.
She’d learned that the Venator’s three magical classifications became more important in their training now. There were regular tests for the Masters to gauge how well they were progressing.
Her friends had been training just as hard as her, especially as their Mid-Realmer trial drew closer and closer. Brooke could tell Evan in particular was worrying about it and she kept telling him he’d be fine.
After a particularly informative Archives session, Brooke remained in the colossal chamber. Heavy rain hammered against the arched windows and the wind was softly howling. The suns had already set and Brooke could see only blue gloom outside, but the multicoloured candlelight in the chamber was enough to read by.
She brushed a few strands of stray hair out of her eyes as she leaned over her book:
MANDONS: Mandons are a race of giants, human in appearance, but with an average height of ten feet. They are a warrior race, with skin hard as iron and covered completely in tiny bristles of hair. They sometimes sport irregular growths…
She pulled a face of disgust as she stopped reading, but Gettelung had asked them to research the Mandon giants in preparation for their next lesson.
She hated reading. Evan was always going on about past books he loved. He’d even read certain books twice. Oh who am I kidding? She knew it was just a temporary distraction from thinking about Arantay, thoughts that refused to go away.
She felt sorry for him and all that he’d been through, but she was also irate with how he’d treated her. She hadn’t seen him since she’d caught him feeding. The image of Arantay, bloodstained and murderous, holding his poor victim, was burned into her mind.
She’d been in the library for nearly an hour now. Brooke suspected it was getting late as Venators slowly filtered out of the chamber.
She’d attended weapon training earlier that afternoon, which reminded her of her one on one weaponry sessions with Tay. He’d been the one who first trained her. He had been so gentle then, so kind, and just being that close to him for so long felt so good, so safe. She knew that side of him hadn’t vanished, it couldn’t have. It had just temporarily been dominated by grief.
“Now what’s a girl like you doing all alone at this time of night?”
Brooke looked up, startled to see Lok staring at her from beneath his fringe of ash-blond hair, a grin carved into his heart shaped face.
He was leaning against a bookshelf, his arms crossed against his chest, watching her. She had no idea how long he’d been there.
“This isn’t the first time you and I have bumped into each other late at night is it?” Lok kicked himself off the bookshelf and made his way over to her. “Mind if I join you?”
“Sure.”
Lok took the seat beside her, smiling lazily. “So, seen Arantay around lately?”
“Why would you ask that?” she countered, confused.
“I heard you two are close that’s all.” Lok’s chocolate b
rown eyes never left hers.
“We were, I think. I’ve only seen him once since… you know.”
“The invasion. Yeah, I can’t imagine how Tay felt learning how despicable his brother truly is. I mean betraying Veneseron is terrible enough, but Falawn caused his own parents death too. Luckily I left my family behind long ago.”
Before Brooke could ask about Lok’s life before he was a Venator, she was distracted by a girl who walked past them, shooting a venomous glare at Lok as she went.
“Someone you know?”
“Oh, never mind her.” Lok dismissed the girl as he stretched back in his chair languorously. “She’ll be all over me again soon, none can resist my charms.”
“Nice joke,” Brook snorted, “either that or you’re unbelievably arrogant.”
Lok picked a book up off her table, absent-mindedly flicking through its pages as he spoke. “Well I am deviously debonair, wouldn’t you agree?”
“You’re a bit full on, I’ll say that much.”
“Oh that comes with years of experience here at the Fortress. Veneseron is my own little playground.”
Brooke realised all the other Venators had left the Archives and it was only the two of them. Flames dancing in a sconce above the table bathed Lok in a soft glow. His skin was a pale shade of gold; his red tunic clinging smoothly to slender muscle.
“Now that had to be a joke,” she laughed. “Years of experience, eh? How long exactly have you been a Venator?”
“They found me when I was twelve. Happiest day of my life. I never once questioned it, it just kinda’ felt right you know. I always knew my destiny was far greater than what I had back on Earth. I was nothing back then. Now, I’m pretty much the most accomplished Arch-Realmer there is. Tyrell and Arantay are my only real competition, and maybe my friend, Lyella. She’s the one who told me about you and Arantay as it happens.”
“You mean your girlfriend, Lyella. And how does she know anything about me and Tay?
“Girlfriend is such a strong word.” Lok grinned impishly. “I’d prefer to call her a friend. I dunno’ how she found out, girls talk don’t they? I’m sure one of your friends let slip to someone, who in turn told her. I don’t keep up on the gossip around here; most of it’s usually about me anyway.”
This time what he joked about wasn’t an exaggeration. She’d heard countless stories and rumours about him.
“Yeah and most of the gossip about you include you and one of your many friends around here.”
“I gathered, for some reason people love painting me in a bad light, calling me a womaniser and such. Probably girls I used to date, or girls that wish they could date me.”
“Hmm, yeah I’m sure that’s the reason.” Brooke nodded mockingly.
“No, but really, I’m not as bad as people make me out to be.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He replied as they smiled at one another.
“You have a beautiful smile Brooke, do you know that?”
She felt her cheeks flushing. “Is that something you say to all the girls?”
“No not at all,” his face turned serious for a second, “you really are beautiful.”
He moved closer to her.
Brooke fought to keep her face emotionless, but on the inside her mind was screaming. Is he about to kiss me? He is, he’s about to kiss me?
Did she want to kiss him back? He was good looking yes, incredibly so, but she couldn’t forget her feelings for Arantay. But I can’t have Arantay. That was true, Arantay didn’t want her, he had been almost cruel the last time she’d seen him and she was still angry at him. Maybe this was a way to get over him. But no, she couldn’t dismiss all the stories she’d heard about Lok being a player. There was a good chance he was just using her and she refused to be just one in a long line of girls.
All her internal thoughts battled one another in a matter of seconds and then, when Lok’s lips were centimetres away from her own, she was saved from coming to either conclusion.
“Brooke, there you are… oh sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”
Brooke and Lok both looked over in surprise at the intruder. Curiously, it was Alexis Tyrell.
“Umm sorry again, it was just that Mistress Taretta sent me to find you,” he explained.
Taretta? She wondered if she’d done anything wrong in her last healing session.
“Oh that’s quite alright,” Lok said, disengaging himself from his chair and standing. “I was just leaving.”
Lok turned to Brooke, smiling mischievously. “I’ll see you soon, no doubt.”
“Tyrell,” Lok nodded congenially as he departed.
“Why does Taretta want to see me?” Brooke asked.
“No idea. I just finished a class with her and she asked me to look for you. Don’t look so worried. I’m sure you’re not in trouble.” Tyrell smiled kindly.
Tyrell didn’t mention what he had walked in upon with Brooke and Lok, as they left the Archives together. Brooke was grateful, she wasn’t sure what he’d walked in on either.
She and Tyrell turned into a corridor where a group of Novices watched a mock duel between two statues. As they passed the Novices, Brooke saw one boy move toward her from the corner of her eye.
“Uh, can I help you?” She turned and he dropped his outstretched hand instantly, surprised.
There was something very familiar about him.
“I…no. I thought I dropped something, but I didn’t,” the Novice stammered.
She recognised his voice too. The boy panicked as she stepped toward him, however.
“Sorry, I gotta’ go.” She met his eyes before he turned and hurried down the corridor.
“Adam?” she called after him instinctively, but he practically ran round the corner.
She’d been so sure he… No. she was being stupid. Adam had had different eyes, not to mention he was half Hispanic and this guy had been pale. You’re going crazy, she told herself.
“Okay,” Tyrell yawned. “I’m heading to bed. You know where Taretta’s chambers are right?”
Brooke nodded nervously.
“Good luck,” Tyrell gave her another reassuring grin before departing.
Brooke took a deep breath and tried to clear her head as made for the Healing chambers. In just a few minutes she was pushing the door open anxiously and stepping into Taretta’s quarters.
“Ah good evening Brooke, we’ve been awaiting your arrival.”
Taretta smiled kindly at her from her armchair by the hearth.
It took Brooke a few seconds to realise there was another in the room. She turned her gaze to the person seated opposite Taretta.
Arantay stared back at her.
PART THREE
Malice and Machinations
“No, Iksnare is the name of spell which paraylses your adversary. Ensnari is a rune spell you draw with your Krism stick. You then enchant that rune with a spell which activates when the rune is stepped on. And no, Ikky-snari-wari is not a spell name, that’s just a rumour.”
--Quote from the book: Spells and how to Spell them (Both magically and literally)
Chapter 14- Moonlit Monsters
The moon gleamed, a diamond skull on a sapphire shroud.
The leviathan loped through the shadowy street, barbaric, crazed, demented. Ropes of viscous saliva fell from his jaw, dark drops of crimson dripped from his snout. His bright, bulging yellow eyes flickered fitfully. He exhaled in ragged, heaving gasps, emitting tattered tendrils of mist into the night.
Standing on two legs, at the tremendous height of eight feet, the beast was nightmare personified. It resembled an ape, but with the head of a wolf. Its muzzle was stained scarlet, its prey-smeared fangs glinting a dirty gold, still fresh.
It had been human once, long ago.
No hint of humanity remained now.
The monster stopped suddenly, scenting the air. He smelled them before he saw them. The ravenous pull of hunger ripped against his insides, but he could
n’t feed on them; to do so would equate to death. Even in his bloodstained insanity, he remembered that.
He carried on, knowing that soon they would come. He would relish the destruction of the night children.
They appeared sooner than he expected, he’d forgotten how fast they were, faster than him, but he was stronger. Ghostly figures at first, little more than flickers of white limbs. They were scouting him.
It was hopeless. They could never take him down. There were three of them, his gigantic nostrils flared as he picked up their sweet stench; sensuous to some, appalling to him.
The memory of what they’d done stirred in his crazed head. They would pay. Everyone would pay. His growl became a bellowing roar that rang through the street, he stopped mid-lope, abruptly aware that their stench was almost upon him.
Like a glittering angel the first of them descended through the air, arcing down with gleaming fangs and black claws.
The lycan attempted to swat her aside, but the moroi was too fast. Her nails raked through his flesh like lightning.
Arterial blood spurted through the air, shimmering for a second in the moonlight, before splattering across the floor.
The vampire leapt away just as fast, evading him easily.
Then the other two exploded from behind, another female pouncing on his head, whilst a male sunk his claws inside his gargantuan back.
The werewolf roared again, this time in agony. His deranged mind fell apart completely, numbing the pain, numbing everything.
He seized the female moroi in one colossal paw, dashing her head against the wall before veering down an alley, and swatting the male far behind him.
As the remaining female came after him, his swipe connected this time, dealing a horrific blow that would’ve smashed a human’s skull to shards.
The vampire careened through the air, landing far off in the distance, motionless. The other two moroi struggled to their feet, their white faces scrunched in pain as they snarled, their red eyes gleaming hatefully.
Moonlight War- Act I (The Realmers Book 2) Page 16