Dark Awakened (The Devil's Assistant Book 2)

by HD Smith

  Slowly everyone started drifting away, many giving a final bow or curtsy before leaving.

  When the crowd cleared, I spun Omar around. “How did you get here? How did they get here? And what’s with all the cryptic dreams? You should have said it was you.”

  “Now, my queen—”

  “Oh, cut the crap, Merryman. You of all people know I’m not the queen.”

  “Shhh!” he hissed, but didn’t acknowledge the name. “Trust me, this isn’t the place you want to be claiming you aren’t the queen right now. For all intents and purposes, you are the queen—you have the blood. You woke the realm. And you’re wearing that damn pendant.”

  Instinctively I covered the pendant with my hand. It was warm to the touch. “What about the pendant?”

  “Unless Mab gave you hers—”

  “She did,” I said, stopping him.

  He narrowed his eyes. “If it’s not Jayne’s pendent, then why did she give you hers?”

  “Why do you think? She’s loaded me for bear with Harry’s blood, and sent me after the Name Caller—you know, the girl from my dreams?”

  He gasped. “How are you controlling the power? You shouldn’t be able to do that?”

  I laughed. “The pendant and the realm. Both give me control. Now quit ignoring me and, start explaining who you really are...Merryman.”

  His lips pursed.

  “Don’t lie. I know you never worked for The Boss.”

  His eyes widened, then he composed himself. He stepped back. Bending at the waist, he took a deep bow. When he straightened, my Omar was gone.

  The man now standing before me was of above-average height, with a full head of brownish-red hair and the most piercing green eyes I’d ever seen. He was attractive, though nothing close to a pagan. His clothes were now regal—expertly tailored, and a bit ornate for my tastes. Too much crimson and gold, if you asked me.

  “Your Majesty,” he said, tilting his head. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Omar of the Lost Valley, royal seer to the court, and your loyal servant until the end of time. I have never—nor will I ever, work for the Demon King.”

  “Omar of Legend, I presume.” That was what Cinnamon had called him. “What were you legend of exactly? Seducing the ladies?”

  His lips curled in a mischievous grin. Not to be trusted indeed.

  “I liked the old you better.”

  His smile faltered. “I have worn that mask for too long, Your Highness. My true form stands before you. However, if you prefer...”

  “No, you’re free to look as you choose.”

  He inclined his head.

  “But don’t assume that I trust you.”

  He shrugged. “I hope in time that will change. I’m still the man you know, Claire. I have never lied to you, nor will I ever lie to you.”

  I raised a disbelieving eyebrow. Time would tell, indeed.

  I surveyed the beach, the dead debris that remained was being moved inland. I could smell the faint sent of wood smoke on the air. The people here were grooming the area. I closed my eyes and darted my presence all around to the dots. The people were building houses and clearing land to farm. I opened my eyes. “How did they know to come?”

  “They heard the call. The moment the realm was awakened, every descendant of the fallen heard it. They will continue to return.”

  “Most are more pagan than fallen,” I said, making note that a majority of the dots had been blue or blue-green. I wasn’t sure why my presence chose to see them that way, but maybe it was an obvious association—metallic eye shine combined with how my veil sense perceived their race. “Will being here in the fourth realm eventually turn their auras green to my presence?”

  “Yes, I believe it will,” Omar said.

  Facing him, I asked, “Where’s the portal? I need to get to Purgatory.”

  “There isn’t one. The people who have come here so far made a one way trip. They don’t have the power yet to create portals.”

  “Can I create one?” I asked, because I had enough power to level a city—maybe the world. A portal couldn’t be that hard.

  “Do you know how?” he asked.

  I stared, for a beat, speechless. “No, you only told me to grab the prophecy book. I’ll assume you haven’t written one about portals. Somewhat shortsighted for a seer, don’t you think?”

  He pressed his lips into a hard line, but he still didn’t acknowledge my assertion that he was the one giving advice in my dream. “I know how to build portals. I was asking if you did,” he said, sounding offended. “They require power and time to create. We don’t have either yet.”

  I started to correct him, but he continued before I could. “Your stolen power isn’t part of the realm, therefore it can’t be used for this task.”

  “Okay, sorry,” I said, pressing my hands out in front of me. “It was sort of a stupid question, don’t you think? How the hell would I have known how to create a portal?”

  “My point exactly. You know nothing, and now Mab has created”—he raised and lowered his hand toward my body—“a weapon of mass destruction.”

  “Fuck you, Merryman.” I stormed off away from the beach.

  “Claire, wait,” he said, grabbing my arm.

  I turned back to him, yanking from his hold. “Keep lying to me and holding back truths and I’ll never trust you again.”

  He sighed. “I couldn’t go as Omar—your Omar,” he said, as if he just now realized how much our relationship had changed. “If Death had discovered me, I would have been in danger of exposure.”

  I tilted my head, as if saying, “Go on.”

  “There are things I can’t tell you. Do you understand what I mean?”

  Not really, but maybe I needed to read between the lines. He couldn’t go as my Omar, because he couldn’t risk exposure if Death discovered him? “I see, there were things I needed to know, but not things you could tell me directly?”

  He inclined his head.

  I nodded, then spun to leave.

  “Claire, dammit. There are things I can tell you—things that will help you get to Purgatory.”

  I stopped. “Why should I believe you?”

  “Look around,” he said, “I’m trapped here like the rest.” He stepped up behind me. “I’m still your Omar.”

  I wanted a friend right now, someone I could trust. If Omar was right and he was trapped here like the rest, then maybe he was telling the truth. I turned to face him.

  Omar’s face relaxed. “Tell me everything,” he said.

  I briefly explained everything that had happened since leaving Death’s library. I left out the parts about being bound to Ronin, and mating Thanos, and a few other things he didn’t need to know. I explained how Mab used Harry’s blood to enhance my abilities, and how she threatened to send someone else to save Thanos. Omar didn’t comment on Mab’s claim of having access to another contender, which I assumed meant it was a topic he couldn’t easily discuss. I let it drop for now.

  “I need a way to Purgatory,” I said, “and I don’t have a lot of time.” I held up my wrist, displaying the lines. “I have less than twelve hours. If I fail, no one will care who rules this realm. It will be just as doomed as the other realms.”

  “Follow me,” Omar said, leading me away from the other fallen. “You must see a pagan named Gizelle. She will ask something from you in return. Bargain with her.”

  I looked toward the forest. “Is she here?”

  “No. I don’t know where you’ll find her, but Cinnamon will know.”

  I stared at him. Did he not understand my problem? “Cinnamon’s in Purgatory.”

  “Yes, pop over there and talk to her.” When I didn’t say anything he prompted, “as you did with Thanos.”

  Crap. I was able to jump to where Thanos was because of our connection. I couldn’t just do that with anyone, could I? “How?”

  “You know where she should be, and Thanos is there,” he said, exasperated.

  “Oh, right.�
��

  I could jump to Thanos and then look for Cinnamon. I closed my eyes and thought of him. Like before, I followed the faint line of our connection to his location.

  He was there, in the ballroom with Raven and Mace. She looked small, seated in Cinnamon’s gilded throne. Thanos and Mace stood on either side of her like matched bookends.

  Their resemblance to one another annoyed me—I hated one, but my heart longed for the other. And it pissed me off that Raven got to walk Mace around like a puppet. Why couldn’t that be my job?

  Stop, stay on task. I didn’t have time to stand here and gawk.

  I was about to blink away when I noticed that Thanos was looking at me. From his black eyes I knew he was under Raven’s spell, but despite that I could feel the sadness in his heart, how desperately he wanted to be with me.

  “Are you hurt?” I asked him.

  “No,” he said, keeping his eyes fixed on me.

  Raven turned her head to look at him, then followed his eyes toward me. I held my breath, although she hadn’t sensed me when I was here to find Thanos the first time.

  She turned to Mace, who wasn’t looking at me, then back to Thanos. “Who are you talking to?”

  “Tell her no one,” I said.

  “No one,” he repeated.

  “Well, keep quiet. I need to think,” she muttered, rubbing her temples as if she had a headache.

  “I’ll be back for you,” I said.

  “Hurry,” Thanos said.

  Raven glared at him.

  “Look away. Try not to be so obvious when I’m near,” I said, and he complied.

  I blinked to the dungeon, or at least where I assumed it would be. I hadn’t had a desire to go there before when I explored the castle, but what else would be two levels down from the main floor?

  Cinnamon and the twins were locked in a large cell together. Thankfully, their eyes weren’t black. All three looked as if they’d been in a fight to the death recently. Their clothes were torn and stained with blood. Sage had a busted lip that hadn’t healed and Cinnamon’s left eye was red and swollen. Sorrel just looked disheveled.

  I saw no reason Raven would have had them beaten and locked up. She would have cleaned them up and added them to her guard. But...by accident, I’d returned Mace’s blood first, so it was more likely that he’d done this before Raven and Thanos arrived.

  “Cinnamon,” I said, “can you hear me?”

  She stood, looking around. “Yes. Where are you?”

  “I’m in the fourth realm, but I must find a pagan named Gizelle. I was told you would know how to find her.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Sage asked. He and Sorrel both stood, looking around the room.

  “Claire. Now, shhh,” she said. “Why do you need her?”

  “She has information I need. I must speak with her.”

  “Release us first,” Cinnamon commanded.

  “I can’t, and you need to stay hidden.” Mace and Thanos were trapped by Raven and completely under her control. If she didn’t know about Cinnamon and the twins, I wanted to keep it that way.

  “Why?”

  “Do you know what’s going on upstairs?” I asked.

  “No,” she spat. “Mace trapped us here hours ago.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. There’s a girl up there with Mace and Thanos. She’s very dangerous. It’s better she not know you’re here.”

  “Thanos is dead.”

  “It’s complicated, but Thanos is alive. Now, if you confront her, she’ll take you too.”

  Cinnamon laughed. “Why should I believe you?”

  “I really don’t care if you believe me or not, but don’t let her know you’re here or you’ll become her puppet, just like Mace. You’re safer—we all are—if you stay hidden. Now, tell me how to find Gizelle.”

  “Save us first,” she demanded.

  “I’m not in Purgatory. Gizelle can help me with that. I’ll come back for you. I promise.”

  Cinnamon’s lips pursed together. “I told you where my mother is before you left on your mission, don’t you remember? And now we know who she wanted you to save.”

  “Huh? What are you talking about?”

  “Our mother is a guest in Mab’s castle. If you can’t get here to save us, how exactly do you plan to reach her?”

  “Your mother is Gizelle?”

  “Yes, she’s in the Deeps.”

  “Gizelle is your mother?”

  “Are you daft? Yes, my mother, Gizelle.”

  Had Omar known? Of course he had, but why didn’t he warn me? Shouldn’t he have known I knew where Cinnamon’s mother was already? Did I need something else from Cinnamon? Something she’d just said echoed in my mind: Now we know who she wanted you to save. Did she mean Thanos? That was the only thing that had surprised Cinnamon. “Gizelle wanted me to save Thanos? How could she have possibly known that would happen?”

  Cinnamon laughed. “You’ll have to ask her yourself. Trying to explain it gives me a headache.”

  Cinnamon’s other words finally registered. “Gizelle’s in the Deeps?” Fuck. I sensed Thanos’s heartbeat increase with mine. I took a few calming breaths. “Are you powerless in the cage?” I asked.

  “No, but there are spells on the bars to keep us in. We can’t get out without someone opening the door.”

  “Hide yourself from her—please,” I begged.

  “I’ll kill you for giving Mace his blood back first,” Cinnamon hissed.

  “Not that it matters, but that was an accident.”

  “Well, your accident made him stronger than before. We were no match for him—even while I was the hare,” she said. “I’ll kill you for this—if he doesn’t do it first, of course.”

  I sighed. “Get in line.”

  I opened my eyes and slipped back to my body, before Cinnamon could respond.

  “Well?” Omar asked.

  “Cinnamon wants to kill me. Nothing new there. And Mace was apparently juiced by my blood. Pre-Harry, so not sure how it gave him a power boost, but he’ll be difficult to control.”

  “And, Gizelle?”

  “Cinnamon said that her mother is at Mab’s castle.” I raised an eyebrow. “Which we would have already known, had you told me who Gizelle was.”

  He bowed his head slightly. “Yes, her mother. Did she say anything else?”

  “She implied Thanos was the thing I was sent to save—not the quads. Is that true?”

  “Yes. Now, where is she?”

  “She’s in the Deeps.”

  “Hum...I didn’t expect that, but Gizelle is always working the angles. You must go to her. She’ll give you the answers you seek.”

  “She’s in the Deeps. Are you sure she’ll know her own name?”

  “Trust me, that women will know her own name until the end of days. If she is in the Deeps, that is by choice.”

  “Fine. How exactly do you expect me to get there?”

  He looked confused. “Exactly how you got to Cinnamon. You know where Gizelle is—simply go to her.”

  I had no clue how I’d get there via my connection with Thanos. It wasn’t like I could just jump to Mab’s castle once my presence was in Purgatory.

  “Well,” I said, not really wanting to put these cards on the table, but he’d figure it out eventually. “I was able to go that far because of Thanos. He and I share a connection.” Omar still looked confused. “I don’t have the same bond with Gizelle.”

  His eyes widened as realization came to him. “You mated him!”

  I grimaced. “I really wish you wouldn’t say it like that, but yes, we’re mated, or married, or whatever the hell you want to call it.”

  “A royal consort—”

  “Stop,” I interjected. “I don’t want to know. I will sort out the issue with Thanos later, after I save him and stop Raven and figure out how I’m getting away from Mab. Okay?”

  “Of course, my queen,” he said, bowing his head.

  “Any ideas on h
ow I might get to the Deeps?”

  “I was hoping that you already knew how to do that part.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t,” I said.

  “You have to focus on something specific. A person works best, but anything that resonates in your mind and therefore has an intrinsic connection to you will work.”

  “Like following the mating bond to Thanos?”

  “Yes, and once you’ve formed a line to that place, you can go there again easily.”

  Did he mean to Thanos or the castle in Purgatory? I asked him.

  “Your connection to Thanos exists and always will. The line you formed to the castle by going there will also remain. The more you travel this way the more connections you will gain.”

  “So, if I wanted to go to the middle of the ocean—which I don’t, but let’s say I did—I wouldn’t be able to because I have no connection to that place?”

  “Correct.”

  Interesting. “Well then, I guess it’s fortunate that Gizelle is in the Deeps. It most definitely resonates.” I shivered as I remembered the endless unforgettable days I spent trapped in that hell.

  He nodded, but didn’t comment.

  “Right,” I said, “focus on the connection. Easy.”

  “Be sure to concentrate on the present,” he warned.

  I hesitated. “What do you mean?”

  He closed his lips.

  “What the hell do you mean? Tell me now.”

  “Forgive me, I forgot how little you know,” he said, inclining his head. “You have the ability to walk through time.”

  I stared at him.

  “You reawaked the realm. It came with consequences—or perks, however you want to look at it.”

  “I see,” I said, although I didn’t. I could guess what it might mean, but nothing about my powers were really obvious. Frustrated, I asked, “Any other little tidbits you want to share before I try this?”

  “After visiting Gizelle, you will have the knowledge you need to use your ability to walk through time. I have seen this. It is what you must do.”

  “Why didn’t you start with that detail?”

  “Would you have believed me?”

  I shrugged. Probably not was what I wanted to say, but I kept that to myself. Omar hadn’t led me wrong yet, at least not exactly. The quest last spring ended in me being free of The Boss—sort of, but Omar could have just told me I wasn’t bound to the Demon King in the first place. Of course, then I wouldn’t have found my powers—or learned the truth. There was no right answer until all the facts were known. The problem was that Omar never revealed all the facts, only enough to make me act. There was no choice, really. I trusted him enough not to just throw me to the wolves. He’d had plenty of opportunities to do that, and I wasn’t dead yet.