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by Larsen, Patti


  And took a chance this was what was intended all along.

  ***

  Chapter Thirty

  It felt odd to walk, unfettered and with only the single Order soldier striding along beside me as I took the obvious route down the corridor outside my cell and to the deep, narrow staircase at the far end. There were only a few doors along the path. This must have been where they kept their most dangerous prisoners.

  Keep telling yourself that, my demon half-laughed through her continuing irritation. At least she’d found her sense of humor again.

  My guard closed the distance between us part way to the top, one gauntleted hand grasping my elbow. I could have fought off his touch but chose to just observe and have faith, a massive leap for me.

  Proud of you, my vampire muttered.

  Me too, actually.

  Part of me shuddered deep inside as we emerged at the top of the staircase into a large room. Rows of all kinds of metal implements hung from the walls, chains dangling from the ceilings. Torture chamber? Could they be more archaic? And yet it was hard not to react, to have a gut instinct of terror as I brushed past one of the hulking mechanisms. Dried blood flaked to the floor, into a wet pool of something dark and sticky.

  My companion didn’t seem concerned by the sight, merely leading me out through a doorway and into a corridor on the other side. Polished black stone I knew well helped settle my stomach and my mind. If I could pretend I was on Demonicon, in the Seat in Ostrogotho, maybe I could control the spinning need my brain had to panic and run away screaming from what was coming.

  Since I had no idea actually what that was, I’d do my best to keep it together until shrieking like a banshee and fleeing for my life became necessary.

  I felt them before we encountered them, a marching column of Order soldiers meeting and passing us without a word. Not even a grunt or a nod to my guard, the dozen or so armor clad figures trotting past with perfect precision. Made me wrinkle my nose in judgment of their obedience.

  Best I could do under the circumstances.

  But it was our brief encounter with three lóng that made me the most afraid. The leader, a tall woman with a braid of blonde hair that swung to the floor—reminding me of Mabel’s black plaits, though this was no drach—ran her gaze over me on the way by, but she ignored us, her companions talking quietly and not even bothering to look up. Their magic lingered a little and I again felt traces of demon and other magicks.

  I took that as further confirmation the lóng had come from my Universe. Through what method, what channel I had no idea. But Max and I had thought the lóng near extinction. Instead, it turned out, they’d come here, hadn’t they? He’d said they’d begun to vanish centuries ago. There were times Max wasn’t quite accurate in his timelines. Was there an event I didn’t know about, some disaster that could mark the crossing of the lóng to this Universe?

  Didn’t matter, I guess. Except that they didn’t belong here. And having them might have tipped things into Dark Brother’s corner.

  Either they have no idea who we are, Shaylee sent, clearly not following my line of thought as she exhaled a sigh of relief, or our guide has chops.

  I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Who was he, anyway? And where the hell were we going?

  So weird to be in this place, feeling powerless. It had been a very long time since I was the lightweight in the room, if ever. But striding the halls of the Order’s base in the Dark Universe, I knew real helplessness. Gone was my ability to just use power to control and protect. Everyone we encountered—including the soldier at my side—had as much magic as I did, if not more. That was sobering and knocked the wind continually out of my attempt at raising sail against my own shrinking ego.

  Way to make a girl feel like she didn’t matter even a little bit.

  When we finally stopped beside a tall, narrow door of black metal, I resisted pulling my arm free out of spite and let him open the way with power. He shoved me with gentle insistence through the gap. The fact he was being respectful and not acting like I was an enemy held my temper in check.

  For now.

  The smallish room on the other side really wasn’t. It was twice the size of Mom’s office at Harvard, dominated by a large, high table and giant wooden chairs with elaborate carvings all over their tall backs. But it felt small compared to the giant woman who stood at the far end, her fists resting on the shining table surface, her own braid flame red, green eyes sparking with anger.

  No, not anger. Frustration and worry. I knew that look as I approached her and she straightened. I’d seen it often enough in the mirror to know she tried to hide her concern behind a façade. Now I really was curious, despite myself.

  Hope, my vampire whispered.

  Indeed.

  “Commander.” My guide swept his helmet free again, bowing at the waist to her. “The prisoner, as requested.”

  She waved him off, her shoulders as broad as his, her face pinched, lips tight. She’d have been attractive in an Amazonian kind of way if she didn’t look so stressed. In fact, she reminded me of Chambrelle Strait, Sunny’s human servant. Which made me think of the vampires, and the void, and Dark Brother.

  Bad train of trouble, there. The light at the end was definitely an oncoming disaster.

  Movement turned my head, caught in my peripheral vision and I gasped softly before I could stop myself. Mabel stepped from the shadows, came to stand next to the woman my guard named Commander. But this wasn’t my Mabel with her steadfast gaze and powerful presence. I saw her drach shape around her, felt keenly the loss of the bulk of her wings behind her. I sensed the ache of longing and endless agony of their removal, trying not to focus on the charred stumps behind her shoulders. This drach’s long hair was gone, shorn close to her scalp, her handsome face leaned out compared to my Mabel, deeply lined and more scaled as her drach form came through further. Only her diamond eyes seemed the same, bottomless and without judgment.

  “You know her.” It wasn’t a question. Commander’s voice was deep, resonant.

  I shrugged. “I know someone like her.”

  The soldier who’d brought me here shifted beside me as if he wanted to speak but remained quiet. What was this? I glanced at him before fixing his boss with a dark look.

  She was looking me up and down, almost disappointed. “You’re certain she’s Doombringer?”

  The Order soldier at my side laughed, the same kind, authentic sound that pissed me off all over again. “She’s in stealth mode,” he said. And winked at me.

  Now, normally under circumstances like these I might have held my tongue or even been amused by his casual toss of my own excuse for my lack of present polish. Okay, who am I kidding? Temper, temper, Syd.

  I’d felt so powerless to this point I just couldn’t take it anymore. With a dull roar that grew in strength and volume, I shoved aside all worry and took on the full mantle of the magic I held inside me. Fed by my demon, by Shaylee, my vampire and so much more, I pressed myself upward and outward, taking on the physical form of all three of my personas, combining them until I towered, shoulders pressed to the immensely tall ceiling, amber eyes glowing into my peripheral vision, white skin on fire, green tinted hair waving around me as my drach heritage sprouted wings across my back.

  “IS THIS BETTER?” My voice boomed through the room, bouncing from the walls, the floor, hitting the watchers with power and volume so violent they all wavered.

  Instead of being afraid, the Commander sighed and nodded. Her lack of concern kind of ruined the moment and I found myself shrinking again, feeling a bit like a child caught doing something she shouldn’t. At least my captors didn’t seem concerned by my show of pique. Only then did I quiver at the thought such a display could have attracted unwanted attention. Rather than appearing worried, the big woman sank into a seat and sat back.

  I did the same without being asked, no longer caring I looked like crap. Who was I trying to impress, anyway? I was who I was. And for the first time since I
’d been captured, I felt like maybe, just maybe, things weren’t as dark as they seemed.

  “Oliver, sit. You’re part of this, whether I like it or not.” She waved at the soldier behind me. He grinned before taking his own place at the table, though Mabel chose to remain standing.

  He laughed then, leaning in to tap me on the shoulder. “You weren’t kidding about stealth mode,” he said.

  Sigh.

  His commander scowled at him. “I am Shonya Opal,” she said. Hesitated like there was a further identifier to add, then dropped it. “Secondary Commander of the First Line of the Order.”

  Whatever the hell that meant. “Nice to meet you.” Wow, polite, Syd? Seemed appropriate.

  Your mother would be proud, Shaylee sent.

  It seemed to satisfy the commander who nodded, though her anxiety seemed worse than ever. “You have caused us no end of trouble, Doombringer.”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, that sounds familiar,” I said.

  A chuckle from Oliver. Okay, maybe I wasn’t so annoyed with him anymore.

  Shonya exhaled heavily, shaking her head. Her thick red braid coiled in her lap, hissing as if it were alive when she moved. “I hope you understand and value the risk we take bringing you here like this.”

  “Maybe if I knew what the hell was going on,” I said at my most calm.

  Her eyes flashed to Oliver and she grimaced. “I take it my envoy told you nothing of our people or this meeting.” Not a question. She seemed like someone who didn’t ask many, instead used to telling instead of requesting.

  It would serve him right, the smartass, to get him in trouble. Instead I shrugged. “I have no idea,” I said. “Though I can assume this attempt at subterfuge means you’re not under Dark Brother’s watchful eye 24/7.” She seemed confused at the reference but answered.

  “If you mean our Master,” she said, “he is all knowing, all seeing.” But she sounded like she was repeating something taught as a child, a rote saying.

  I doubt that’s true, my vampire sent. If so, such a meeting should be impossible, yes?

  “For an all knowing, all seeing king of everything, he’s falling down on the job.” Felt good to bluster, even a bit. “Or maybe he doesn’t care you’re plotting against him.” I glanced around at the three of them, taking in their mutual discomfort, the fact Shonya looked up at the ceiling as if expecting death to crash down on us. The fact it didn’t happen gave me courage to go on. “You are plotting against him, I take it?” Oliver shifted next to me, a bit wild around the eyes, smirking as if this wasn’t funny but he couldn’t help himself. Made him seem more human, more vulnerable, less scary Order dude I had to hate. And shifted my thinking instantly from self-protect mode to maybe this might work out after all. “Fill me in, please, Commander Opal. I’m listening.”

  The big woman leaned forward, hands twice the size of mine resting on the table, clasped in front of her. I’d say one thing for the Order, they didn’t go half way in size. Reminded me once again of Demonicon, of the guards that protected Ruler and the Seat. Jabuticabron, Sass’s big brother, wouldn’t be out of place at this table. Aside from the red skin, amber eyes and black horns, that was.

  “What I’m about to say,” she told me with great intensity, “is treason simply by act of speaking.”

  I was listening.

  “Not everyone,” she hesitated before forging on, words rushed, “believes in the course our Master has placed us on.” Again the quick glance upward. No response from DB. Coolio.

  I waited for her to go on anyway. Didn’t get anything further for a long moment. While it didn’t surprise me Dark Brother discouraged original thought, knowing even speaking against him was a traitorous act made me sit up and take further notice.

  “I’m in the presence of some of those, I take it?”

  Hope, once a lie I told myself to feel better about a terrible situation, woke and waved her happy hands.

  The commander nodded. “Nor do we believe the prophecy he has shared with us about you, Doombringer.”

  Wait a second. They kept calling me that. But I was the doom of my Universe. And yet, it was Belaisle who used that term, a tool of Dark Brother. Now I was confused.

  “Prophecy?” First I’d heard of that. The one I knew was done, finished off when we defeated Belaisle and woke the Stronghold plane. They had a different one, it seemed.

  Shonya didn’t answer that query, at least not right away. “Our Master wishes to reclaim the other Universe,” she said, “and right the wrong that split it from ours in the beginning of days.”

  Um, hang on. “You do know your Universe came second, right?”

  She flinched, gritted her teeth, green sparks lighting in her gray eyes. “His desire,” she went on as if I’d never spoken such sacrilege, “is to eliminate the foul magicks that came from the split and ruined your Universe, combining all into the one true power.”

  Sorcery.

  “What about the lóng?” They had those horrible powers at their disposal and Dark Brother didn’t seem all that upset about using them. Blank looks met my question. “And the maji?” I hadn’t seen them here then flinched as I realized what I’d said. Idiot. The maji weren’t here, were they?

  Nothing that was created after Max split sorcery into the different powers would exist here. Except the lóng, which convinced me further they didn’t belong here. But this way of thinking would take some getting used to.

  The Commander just glared at me. I guess she was having trouble with her own participation in this conversation. It had to be hard to face the truth despite wanting it in the first place. While choosing to doubt and question might seem reasonable in the face of supposition, it was an entirely different experience when the reality slapped you in the face.

  “The second race,” I murmured in way of explanation.

  She just shrugged. “Then it’s true?”

  Oliver shifted beside me and I turned to find him watching her without humor at last. It was the first time I’d seen him without a grin on his face. He seemed even more familiar than ever. The shape of his jaw, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he spoke. But I didn’t know him, I was sure of that.

  “We’ve known,” he said, quiet and calm. “The drach have never lied to us.”

  It was Mabel’s turn to nod and sigh. “Though our vindication is far from our final desire,” she said.

  Oliver addressed me directly, gray eyes open and unguarded. “A small faction of the Order is tied to the few remaining drach and have been since the beginning.” He gestured at Mabel. “Our bloodlines are woven together. It was they who first guided and trained us.”

  “Until the drachmor evolution and takeover.” Who? Had to be their term for the lóng. Mabel said it like it was no big deal but Oliver’s anger was apparent. Looked like I wasn’t the only one who wore their emotions on their face.

  “The clean terms the Master and the drachmor use to excuse the near genocide of your race.” He addressed Mabel directly.

  She shrugged again, sadness in her diamond eyes. “Something we could do nothing about,” she said before turning her gaze to me. “Until now.”

  Was this about revenge? “I can’t help you fight your own people,” I said, hating to admit my weakness.

  But the commander grunted, cutting me off. “Our rebellion is risky, to say the least,” she said. “However, it is our task to undertake. No, you’re here for another reason, Doombringer.” She paused, fingers tapping a rhythm on the table before fisting in front of her, settling like a rock of flesh on the polished top. “Are you here to destroy our Universe at last?”

  Loaded question. One I should have lied about because as I stared into the commander’s eyes I saw my own end there in her fear and worry. If I was smart, I would have made up a story, found the means to make them trust me, help me win my freedom.

  Instead, tired of the game and ready to face my fate, I exhaled.

  “Yes,” I said. “And.”

  ***r />
  Chapter Thirty One

  I found myself explaining everything that was happening on the other side of the barrier between Universes. Despite the commander’s frequent grimaces and occasional grunts of disbelief, I managed to wind my way through it all, from Gabriel’s first opening of the Gateway here—they were shocked to discover Ameline was the baddie in my Universe—to rebuilding Creator’s statue and all the trouble I’d been having doing so.

  When I brought up Max, Mabel shifted her position, perking.

  “I thought I knew him,” she said, wonder in her voice even as the ribbon around my wrist tightened and something sparked in me, a terrible feeling much like grief. “He led us once, millennia ago. But he gave his life when Dark Brother allowed us to evolve into the drachmor.”

  “Not evolve,” I corrected her as gently as I could while the other two stared at me. “Stole. From my Universe.” I had to find out how Dark Brother brought them here. I was beginning to wonder if he had, or if they’d made their own way. Surely if they’d crossed under his power he could use that way against us. So, had this been Fate? My head hurt, as usual, when I thought of stupid ass destiny. “They control more than just sorcery. Don’t they?”

  The commander looked uncomfortable but Oliver nodded. “It’s part of the reason they have dominated so long,” he said, gesturing to Mabel. “There was a time the drach were our partners, our friends. But the creation,” he corrected himself instantly, “arrival of the drachmor signaled the end of that. We never understood why, or could fathom their power. Now I see why that is.” He shook his head, longish hair swaying around his ears, his high cheekbones. “And yet our own Master speaks against the abomination that is other magicks.”

 

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