Scarred (the Spellbound Series Book 3)

by Rene Lanausse

  I don’t know exactly where I’m going at first, or even why. I was having fun. I wanted to stay. But Alyssa was right; I was sort of acting like an idiot. I decide to put as much distance between us as I can for the moment. I expand the range of my second sight, and lock on to Michael’s massive energy. It’s almost faint from so far away, but it’s still strong enough of a beacon to guide me home.

  ***

  Morning brings with it a pulsing pain in my temples, and just the slightest bit of confusion. I don’t remember much of my midnight flight, certainly not the part where I made it home. But here I am, back in my bed, still wearing last night’s clothes. I groan, and roll out of bed onto the floor, where I struggle to my feet. I’m not just groggy, I’m sore all over. I wonder if I might have crashed into a tree on my way back last night. My memory of everything after drinking three potions back to back is pretty hazy.

  I grab some water from the kitchen, and my headache slowly fades into an occasional pound against the inside of my skull. I’m still not feeling my best, but it’ll do. I step outside, squinting through the glare of the early morning sun, and walk out onto the grass beside the lake. It takes a few moments of mental preparation, but I eventually dive into my morning stretches. They’ve become so much a part of my daily regimen, that I don’t need Michael’s supervision. I remember them by heart.

  I’m in the middle of a triangular stretch when I hear someone walking out onto the deck. I pay them no mind; I’m not opposed to being watched. But a wave of annoyance washes over me when Nick calls out, “You’re up early.”

  I stand up straight, and raise my hands to the sky as I bend my body slightly backward. “It’s part of my routine. One night of fun won’t change that.”

  “That’s exactly what I mean. From what I heard, you were the life of the party last night.”

  “Yeah, well, you were off in the woods when everything went down, so you wouldn’t know.” I exhale, and bend at the waist so that my fingers touch my toes. “It’s nice to see you have a type, though.”

  “A type?”

  “Yeah. Girls with wings.”

  Nick scoffs, and says, “Amy is not my type.”

  “No?” I straighten out my body, and turn to face Nick at last. “Then why did you run off with her last night?”

  Nick vaults over the deck’s railing, and lands with a soft thud near where I’m standing. “It’s not like that with Amy,” he says. “She was trying to help me find some answers.”

  “Answers about what?”

  “About these.” Nick reaches down, and pulls off his shirt. For a moment, I’m alarmed, but I soon realize that he’s merely showing me the strange marks I’ve noticed on him lately. The black veins race outward from his heart, branching out and overlapping as they claim him. What’s worse, his skin is starting to turn pale, paler than it ever was during his time as a vampire.

  I absentmindedly reach out to touch Nick’s chest, but pull my hand back before I can. “What’s happening to you…?”

  “I don’t know,” Nick says. “But I’ve been trying to find out. It hasn’t exactly been easy. Michael hates me, Alyssa doesn’t know what to make of it, and you won’t even look at me. So I asked Amy if she knew what was going on.”

  “And did she?”

  “Yes and no. We foraged for herbs, and she tried a natural salve to draw out anything that might have been causing this. But when that didn’t work, she came up with a theory. The only one that makes sense.”

  “Okay…?”

  “She said my soul might be tainted.”

  The words crash over me in waves, and I find it hard to breathe. I was worried something like this would happen… Lucifer did ruin Nick’s soul somehow. And I’m not sure if there’s any way to fix it. I clear my throat, and ask, “Does it hurt?”

  “No.” Nick pulls his shirt back on, and says, “It’s not painful, but it’s spreading fast. It seems like every time I cast a spell, the veins reach further and further from where they started. But the strangest part is, I get stronger every time as well.”

  “Nick, have you ever considered that maybe using your powers will kill you? You need to stop before-“

  “No way. I’m a fast learner, like you. And at this rate, I’ll be able to-“

  “To what? Leap in and protect me when I look like I need saving? I don’t need you to, I never have-“

  “Heather, have you ever once in your life considered that it’s not all about you?” I gaze up at Nick with my jaw hanging open; in all the time I’ve known him, Nick has never spoken to me this way. “I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for me.”

  “Why...?”

  “I’ve accepted that you don’t need a savior. You’ve proven that again and again, and I respect that. Hell, I admire that about you. And it’s something that I’m trying to find in myself. The strength to save myself. So that I won’t have to rely on you or anyone else.”

  I look down at my feet, and shove my hands in my pockets. I hadn’t thought of it that way. If I were in Nick’s shoes, I would be just as frustrated, and tired of feeling helpless. I’d do anything I could to turn the tables. “I’m sorry,” I mutter with my eyes turned downward. “I should have realized that’s how you felt.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s not like you can read my mind. So if you don’t talk to me, you don’t get to know these things.”

  Something within me twists at Nick’s words, and the pain of losing him rises to the surface for a split second. “Nick…”

  “Look, I’m sorry. I know you’ve been through a lot. I just… even if you can’t be with me right now, I think it would be a shame to just throw away what we had entirely. It would be like the time we’ve spent together was a waste. And I care too much about our bond to let that be the case.”

  “I… I care too. I’m just not-“

  “I know, I know. I’m not asking for anything complicated. Just… I could use a friend.” Nick holds out his hand, and adds, “And I think you could too.”

  I finally look up at Nick again, my guilt weighing me down all over again. He’s yet another person that has every right to hate me. I’ve been horrible to him, but even now, he has nothing but love and respect for me. I’ll never understand what I’ve done to deserve his forgiveness, but I do understand what he means. I still need him in my life, even is friendship is all I have to give.

  I grab Nick’s outstretched hand, and shake it twice. “Alright. Friends it is.”

  10

  It’s awkward talking to Nick for a while. Now that we’re just friends, I’m not sure exactly how to interact with him, and I’m sure the reverse is just as true. But by the time we head inside for breakfast, we’re laughing and joking with each other just as easily as we always have. Well, not exactly; Nick’s decidedly less flirtatious, and I’m decidedly less likely to laugh. But the bond is still there, and that’s what I’ve been missing the most, without even knowing it. He’s been my best friend for so long, and I’m glad I didn’t ruin that forever.

  Alyssa comes downstairs and joins us for breakfast as Nick and I gather materials for a batch of pancakes. For a split second, when she sees us together, she looks crestfallen. But she catches herself, amends her expression to appear indifferent, and comments, “It’s nice to see you being social again, Santos.”

  I shrug as I place eggs and butter on the kitchen counter. “I’ve missed you guys. I was just too wrapped up in my own head to see it.”

  “Thank God. The whole ‘stoic warrior princess’ routine was getting kinda old.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Blueberry or chocolate chip?”

  “Why not both?”

  I look across the kitchen at Nick, who says, “I’ll try both.”

  I grin, and reach into the cabinet for the chocolate chips. “Both it is.”

  Mere minutes later, the smell of cooking pancakes brings my mother down from her room. Michael emerges from his own room soon after, fully dressed and ready for the day. Even Tyrael, and his fe
llow security guard Valtiel, come in from their duty to join us as well. Nick and I take turns manning the pan, and deliver seven stacks of slightly burnt pancakes to the table. It’s strange, seeing all of us sitting at the table as one. In all our time here, we’ve never once had a full meal with everyone present. Maybe because it makes us seem like one large, disjointed family.

  In the middle of his third pancake, Michael asks me, “Are you ready for today’s journey?”

  Truthfully, I’m not sure. I’d forgotten all about Michael’s insistence on obtaining a weapon for me. All the same, I answer, “I’m ready. Where are we going?”

  “It’s best not to discuss that at the table. You’ll understand soon.”

  I shrug, and take my time with the rest of my plate. Michael and I may be on good terms now, but I can’t say I’m looking forward to traveling with him.

  After breakfast, Michael and I excuse ourselves, and meet on the dock, far enough out on the lake that we can see fish swimming by under us. When I ask him what all the secrecy is about, Michael answers my question with a question. “What do you know of the realms?”

  “Come again?”

  Michael sighs, and explains, “The world as you know it is but one of many. There is the ‘observable universe’, in which we are currently standing. Then there is Elfame, where the Fair Folk rule. And Heaven, where I call home. Hell, which is Lucifer’s domain. Purgatory, where souls are normally processed before passing on to their final destinations. And finally, the Garden of Eden, the Land of Nod, and their surrounding area comprise the realm of Genesis.”

  I listen patiently with my arms crossed while Michael speaks. But when he’s done, I ask, “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “You and I are taking a trip to Genesis, to retrieve an artifact I left there specifically for you. And I’m going to teach you how to travel between the realms as we go.”

  Now I’m listening. I watch Michael eagerly, wondering exactly what traveling between these realms will entail. “What do I have to do?”

  “Just watch me for the moment.” Michael walks to the end of the dock, and says, “The first thing you want to do is find a natural nexus point, where the worlds are converging, or are close to doing so. Luckily for us, I built my earthly home right near one of these points.”

  I look around for what Michael means by a nexus, before realizing that he’s probably moving towards it. I follow him at a distance, and ask, “What’s the next step?”

  “Visualize where you want to travel, and use your power to tear a hole in the fabric between the worlds.” Michael reaches in front of him, and I feel his incredible power rippling through the air as he releases it. Within seconds, the end of the dock is engulfed by a crack in the universe, which widens at Michael’s command. He steps through, and disappears entirely, as if he’s simply stepped out of existence. Slowly, I walk through the crack as well, shielding my eyes against the intense blue light shining forth from within. Once I’m sure I’ve passed the threshold, I uncover my eyes, and gasp at what’s in front of me.

  Michael and I are surrounded on all sides by a sea of green, bordered in the distance by jagged cliff walls that reach higher than anyone would ever dare to climb. A few trees dot the glades of grass, but they’re all dwarfed by the white marble temple standing in the middle of the field. It practically shines in the sunlight, beckoning us forward, but I find I can’t move an inch. “I’ve been here before,” I tell Michael.

  “I know,” he responds. “Genesis is the home, and ward, of the Guardians.”

  I marvel at our surroundings, the memories of my last visit springing, unbidden, to my mind. Alyssa and I, with the company of a couple of other young spellcasters, were sent here as part of an ancient tradition. We traveled across a variety of landscapes, and struggled through various obstacles to reach the Guardians’ temple, where we were subjected further testing. Only when we passed the Guardians’ trials did they aid us in unlocking the second seal restraining our powers.

  I turn my gaze to Michael, excited by the connection I just made in my mind. “The Garden of Eden… that’s what the Guardians are here to guard?”

  Michael’s mouth doesn’t move, but a familiar voice just behind us answers, “That’s just the tip of the iceberg.” I look over my shoulder, and clap a hand to my mouth to stifle the startled cry. Standing right before me, and looking just as healthy as ever, is Krystal, smiling wider than she ever did in life. Her caramel skin is radiant, her eyes shining at the sight of me. I don’t think she’s ever looked better.

  “Took you long enough to get here,” she says. “We’ve been expecting you.”

  I throw my arms around her, struggling not to cry. “Krys, what are you doing here?”

  Krys hugs me tightly for a moment, then holds my face in her hands while she explains. “When a spellcaster is strong enough, they can choose to leave behind a glimmer of who they used to be. I figured sticking around here for eternity would be a decent way to make up for all the mistakes I made on Earth.”

  “Yeah, but, aren’t the rest of the Guardians-“

  “Gods? No… they were mortal once too, remember? They were just exceptional spellcasters who decided to remain here.”

  Michael clears his throat impatiently, and grumbles, “I’m sorry, but we haven’t come for a social visit.”

  Krystal smiles politely at him, but keeps her focus on me. “Yes, I know what you’ve come for. Follow me.”

  Krystal leads us in the direction of the temple, and I take the opportunity to ask, “What’s it like living here?”

  “Not bad, so far,” she answers as we pass through the gilded doors. “Other than an incident with Zeus on the first day, I haven’t had much to complain about.”

  “What happened with Zeus?”

  “Turns out all the stories about his wandering hands are true. I wasn’t having it, and I had to kick his ass for him to get the message.”

  As we pass through the temple’s halls, several other Guardians notice us, and stop whatever they’re doing to bow. Several of them are familiar faces; I smile at Athena as we pass her, and take note of Freyr and Morpheus before Krystal leads us down a passage perpendicular to the main hall. When the three of us are alone, I ask her, “What’s all the bowing about?”

  “They’re in the presence of a Nephilim and an archangel. They’re showing respect.”

  “Not your thing, I take it?”

  “Nope.” Krystal stops at the end of a hallway, and presses her hand on a space on the wall. The temple’s smooth marble interior tremors, and the ground beneath us sinks steadily, as if we’re riding the top of an elevator. As we descend into the depths of the building, Krystal conjures a ball of light from the palm of her hand, and holds it aloft so we can see. After what seems like an eternity of sinking through stone, the marble platform slows to a stop, and I can just make out a cavern before us. Wherever we are, we’re deep under the temple, well beyond any part of it I’ve seen before.

  Krystal waves her hand, and her ball of light splinters, fragments of it scattering across the room to occupy recesses in the wall. With the whole space illuminated, it’s easier to see that we’re in something that looks like a museum gallery. Artifacts from all over the world occupy glass cases, or hang from the walls. None of them are labeled, so I have to scrutinize each of them carefully as the three of us venture further into the marble cavern. I stop to examine a glass case occupied by a tiny ring with a shield engraved on it. “What is all of this?,” I wonder aloud.

  Krystal turns around, and answers, “We do more than just guard Genesis from unwanted entry. We also watch over ancient objects of immeasurable power, and make sure they don’t fall into the wrong hands. For instance, this,” she says as she touches the display case I’m focused on, “is the Aegis. The wearer is cloaked by an impenetrable shield, but it can only protect each individual wearer from harm as long as they are deemed worthy of living.”

  My eyes widen in shock as I try to w
rap my head around the information. “This little ring can do all that?”

  “You better believe it. Over there,” Krystal says with a gesture towards the opposite wall, “is the Holy Lance. And in other cases are the Helm of Darkness, the Boots of Seven Leagues, the Gleipnir, Kaundinya’s bow… and the sword and shield of Michael the Archangel.”

  I look up, and follow Krystal’s gaze towards the far end of the room. On a dais, lit from behind, is a sword that looks vaguely familiar. I remember pulling it free during the ceremony where my second seal was removed, a feat that only the Nephilim could accomplish. I never would have guessed the blade was once my father’s. Right next to the sword is a silver shield, engraved with the words Qui ut Deus. In a quiet voice, I whisper, “This is what we’re here for, isn’t it?”

  Michael nods. “My gifts to you, Heather. May they serve you well.”

  I slowly approach the sword, acutely aware that Michael and Krystal are watching me closely. The ruby pommel stone sparks to life, pulsating with light, beckoning me closer. The moment my hand wraps around the hilt, crackling flames ignite along the length of the blade. I nearly release it from shock, but I hold on for dear life, and raise the sword up high. The flames swell, and I’m surprised to notice that my hand isn’t being burnt to a crisp. In fact, the heat from the sword doesn’t seem to affect me at all; it’s almost as if the fire has chosen to spare me from its wrath.

  I slip on the shield as well, and hold them both at my sides. They’re heavier than I expected, but not unmanageable; I can easily put this set of weaponry to good use. Now all that’s left is to learn how to do so. I turn from the dais, and look to Michael before asking, “How do I look?”