It was always the same. The warm glow started in her mouth then spread throughout her body, taking her breath away with its power. She had felt the sensation hundreds of times, but it was always as perfect as that first moment when she had broken her arm, and Yarrow had given her some to take away the pain. He had told her that only good creatures could feel it as profoundly as she did. As a child, Bryn had no idea what he meant, but as she saw Franklin let his friends taste the powder, she understood. They felt the warmth, but not the bliss that came with it. Their skin had no luster. Their senses did not heighten. They remained the same, except for the slow warming that crept through their bodies.
Her heart began beating faster as the powder circled in her breast. It flowed, gently at first, then faster as it neared its mark. There was a sharp pain as the powder touched the small tip of Yarrow's horn that remained lodged in her stomach, but it quickly subsided. Bright white light spread across the room from her stomach as the piece of horn began radiating its own magic. She felt safe, comfortable and loved. It was the feeling of being home and asleep in her mother's arms as a child. Yarrow had allowed her to touch those memories that she had forgotten. Her mother, with her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, held her close. Her father had been there too. He kissed her forehead and ran a gentle hand down her arm.
Bryn let the tears fall freely. Although she hadn't been with her parents in nineteen years, the memory was a clear as if they had been there with her. It wasn't fair. She should have been allowed to stay with her parents. Her memories faded as the powder lost its magic. It allowed her to see only a glimpse of things and nothing more. Yarrow had been trying to show her how to harness and control it, so that she could see a particular memory. But he had been taken away before he could teach her fully. So she had only learned how to go back to the beginning, to her birth. It was still wonderful.
As her skin and senses returned to their normal state, Bryn looked up at the bag. She resisted the urge to take more of it. Mariah might notice if too much was missing, and she also didn't want to spend too much time in the chamber. There was no way to know how much time passed each time she entered her memories. Sometimes it was only a moment; others it had taken an hour or more. She had been defenseless during those times, but Yarrow had usually been by her side to protect her. Bryn looked at each of her wings, checking the brilliance and texture. The powder always made her feathers grow at an alarming rate. It also improved the color and softness. This time was no different.
Bryn rose to her feet to make sure she wasn't mistaken. But she wasn't. Her wings were back to their full size and strength. Even her broken wing had been restored to its original glory. She flapped them once to test them, the motion of it causing the torch flames to sway in the breeze. Bryn laughed and folded her wings over her shoulders. "Thank you, Yarrow," she softly said before planting a kiss on the bag.
Her eyes traveled to the center of the room. A large table stood there, its edges lined in tall candles. The table was covered in a soft fabric with intricate gold symbols on it. She touched a few of them. They meant nothing to her, but she wondered what they meant to Mariah. A large book rested in the center of the table. She opened it slowly, not wanting to damage any of the pages. The book was at least a century old with dark pages and torn edges. Each page was covered in a fine script that she didn't recognize. Somewhere she remembered seeing the language, but she didn't have the faintest idea where. Bryn carefully closed the book and moved away from the table.
A wooden door that she hadn't noticed on her way in stood across from her. It wasn't very big, probably just enough for Mariah to go through it. She went to it and opened it slowly, unsure of what would be on the other side. A torch hung every few feet, just as in the other room. But this room was a circle. Bryn had never seen anything like it. The tall ceiling was even circular, creating a dome above her head. Various weapons hung along the walls. She inspected a few of them but found little interest in most. They were all beautiful, of course, but weapons had never fascinated her the way they did for some people. Bryn removed a sword from its resting place. It was heavy in her hands. She made a few slashes in the air with it before the weight became too cumbersome to manage. Bryn turned back around to replace the sword.
She had just put it back on the wall when a cold chill shot through her. Something was behind her, watching her. She could feel its breath, cold as ice, against the back of her neck. It wasn't Mariah. This thing was distinctly evil, more so than anything she had ever seen before. Bryn turned around slowly, her hands shaking at her sides.
A pair of blood-red eyes stared back at her.
Chapter Eleven
Bryn opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Tears streamed down her face as she stood helplessly before him. Her legs refused to move, although her mind was screaming at them. The air rushed back into her lungs, giving her the breath she had been seeking.
"Mariah!" she screamed, her voice shaking with urgency.
The creature took a step toward her, and said in a voice like a hissing snake, "Mariah can't hear you."
She looked helplessly at him. For the first time, really, she took a good look at the creature before her. He was as tall as a man, and his outline was that of a man too. But his body was nothing more than a dark shadow.
Bryn yelled for Mariah again as the creature continued to advance slowly toward her. With her heart pounding wildly in her ears, she realized that he was right. There was no way that Mariah could hear her all the way under the cabin. Even if Mariah would be angry at her for going into the chamber she would have given anything to have Mariah next to her.
She took a deep breath and struggled to assess the situation the way Damascus had taught her. She forced herself to look away from the creature's red eyes. The door, it was open, but no, it was too far away. She would never make it in time. She took a step backward, away from the icy breath of the creature. Cold steel pressed against her neck. The sword. Even a weapon that was too heavy for her was better than none at all. She pulled it off the wall and grabbed the hilt with both hands.
"Stay back!" she warned in the strongest voice she could muster.
"Or what?" the creature mocked.
"I'll cut you! I swear I will!" she yelled desperately at him.
He only smiled, but it wasn't a smile, merely just an opening of his shadow of a mouth. With one fluid thrust, Bryn slammed the sword, up to the hilt, into the creature's chest. The shadow rolled his eyes and pulled the sword out, a look of annoyance, crossing his face. "Look at me, Bryn. Do you really think a simple little sword could kill me?"
She shook her head, furious at herself for believing that it could. Franklin had said the same thing to her that time she had tried to kill him. She believed that a sword would work then too, but it hadn't. And he had mocked her, just as the shadow creature was doing now. He held the sword up with his fingers, the blade pointing down. "What are you?" she asked, her voice no more audible than the flapping of a butterfly's wings.
"I am a shadow demon. My name is Ceylon," he replied softly. As she retrieved the sword from him, he took a seat on the stone floor. Bryn returned the sword to its resting place and joined him, her legs folded in front of her. "I don't want to kill you. Even if I did, it is impossible for me to. Killing you would bring me no closer to my goal."
"Which is?"
"To kill Mariah."
Bryn raised her eyes to his. He had said it so bluntly, so quickly, she couldn't be sure if he had really said it at all. But as they stared at each other, she knew that he had. "I won't let you," she said darkly.
"You will try to stop me, of course, but you have no defense against me Bryn. You are still so inexperienced in all things magical. You wouldn't have the slightest idea how to kill me."
She folded her wings around her body. Chills ran through her, but whether they were caused by Ceylon or the chamber being cold, she couldn't tell. "You are evil, aren't you? And more just a little evil, almost eve
ryone is a little evil. You are pure evil." She had felt it, almost like being kicked in the stomach when she had first realized he was behind her.
Ceylon nodded and grinned. "Yes. I am evil."
"Then I do know how to defeat you," she replied. Her nerve hardened as she stared into his red eyes. If he was evil, she knew exactly how to defeat him.
"Oh? I am surprised. Mariah must have taught you well," the creature said dryly.
"Mariah did not teach me this," Bryn said with a smile. There were few creatures that she knew how to destroy, and this was one of them. "Anything evil can be conquered with good. It is the balance of all nature. But if there is more good than evil, the evil will then be destroyed."
Ceylon laughed and shook his head. "Even if you were pure, little Strytas, there wouldn't be enough good in you to do that."
"Who said I was talking about me?"
He was confused, but only for a second. His eyes shot to her stomach, to the glowing circle just under her dress. "A unicorn…" he softly said as the red orbs of his eyes widened. She thought she could almost see fear in them.
Bryn nodded. "Next to newborns, unicorns are the purest form of good imaginable. I think I know what would happen if one were to touch you, Ceylon."
"Then why don't you do it then?"
She sat back, her head resting against the stone wall. "First, tell me why Mariah keeps you down here." There were many questions she had for the creature. That was only the first. She had overcome her fear of him and her curiosity had taken hold. He was right, killing her was impossible for him. Shackles, made of nothing more than shadow, hung on his wrists. From them, shadowy chains held him to the floor. He could move no more than a few feet in any direction. She chided herself for not noticing them sooner.
"Mariah keeps me here for her own sick amusement," the creature replied with a wave of his hand.
"What did you do, that she would take such notice of you? There must be many creatures like you." Bryn hadn't seen anything like him of course, but she was sure that he wasn't the only one.
Ceylon smiled at her. "I know a secret of hers."
"Oh?"
"I know who killed that pretty little wife of hers."
Bryn sat forward, her attention brought to a sudden point. "Jasmine?" The creature nodded. "Who killed her?"
Ceylon's shadowy face turned upward into a wicked smile. Bryn suddenly realized that she didn't want to know, but the question had already been asked. She couldn't take it back now. "What did she tell you about it?"
"Only that a monster killed her," Bryn replied.
"Yes, a monster did kill her," the creature hissed. "That monster was Mariah."
"No…"
Ceylon nodded. "Of course, Mariah regretted it later on. But she did kill her."
Bryn quickly rose to her feet. "I've had enough of your lies, creature," she said as she walked past him and back into the other chamber. She closed the door behind her and leaned against one of the bookcases.
"I know you are out there, little one," Ceylon called after a few minutes. His voice was as smooth as glass. If she wasn't so afraid of him, she might have thought he was beautiful.
"No, I'm not!" Bryn yelled back. Her hands instantly went to her mouth as she realized her foolishness. She could hear him chuckling from behind the door.
"Come back in here. I won't hurt you."
She was hesitant to trust him, but he was chained to the floor, so she opened up the door and sat down. He was a good ten feet from her, and her back was to the trapdoor, so she felt safe. Safe for the moment anyway.
"That's better. Am I really that scary?" he cooed. Ceylon was sitting on the floor, his back straight, his hands folded in his lap. She quickly nodded. "I didn't mean to frighten you; it's just that I get visitors so rarely down here. This place feels so much like a prison."
Bryn brought her knees up to her chest and rested her head on them. Her arms wrapped around her legs, hugging them against her. The room did remind her of a prison. It was just like the room Franklin had kept her in when she was bad. "Why are there so many weapons down here?" she asked softly.
Ceylon looked around the room at them, his gaze lingering on each. "Mariah uses them often enough, so I guess it is out of convenience."
"Mariah only ever carries the one that is on her hip. And I see nothing in here to practice on…" Her gaze shot to him and he nodded. Her stomach felt like it was twisting into knots. "Mariah uses them on… you?"
Ceylon nodded softly.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I can't feel it, of course, but it is still so unnecessary." He paused and smiled sadly. "It is only demeaning sometimes. And only then, if I let it be. Some people do things that hurt others because they don't like something in themselves. Do you know what I mean?"
Bryn nodded. She knew very well what he meant. Her scars were beginning to burn as she thought about them. Her hand brushed over them slowly as her wings wrapped around her shoulders. "Mariah isn't like that," she softly said. It was mostly to assure herself. The creature had to be wrong. He just had to. He was evil after all, and evil was good at lying. But she really didn't know that much about Mariah, and she hadn't told Bryn everything about what had happened with Jasmine, she was sure of that much. "Then you knew her right? Jasmine, I mean," Bryn asked as she raised her eyes to the creature.
"Yes, I knew her."
Her insides were starting to twist in on themselves. "Was she pretty?"
"No."
Bryn's brow knitted in confusion. "No? Why not?"
Ceylon smiled and rose to his feet. He was nearly as tall as Mariah, but his form was not quite as muscular. She would have never imagined a creature like him existing. There were many things in the world so why not something like him?
"You don't want to know if she was pretty," he said.
"I don't?"
"No. You want to know if she was prettier than you," he replied, a wicked smile forming on his lips.
Bryn's eyes darkened. "What does that matter?" she grumbled.
Ceylon only shrugged and continued to smile. "Yes, she was pretty. But she was pretty in a different way than you. She was exotic pretty, with dark eyes and long silky hair. You are Strytas pretty; innocent, sweet, and adorable. Like a bunny really."
He was mocking her, and as he began to chuckle, her cheeks heated. "I don't want to be like a bunny," she murmured.
"Whether you want to be or not doesn't really matter right now. You are who you are. There is no changing that. You can't be her, and she isn't you. So what difference does it really make?"
"None, I guess," she grumbled. And it didn't really. She would still have liked him to say that she was prettier, but that was selfish and more than a little childish. Once again, Bryn scolded her human side for its faults.
He watched her softly. For an instant, she thought maybe there was a hint of sadness in those red eyes. "If it's any consolation, Mariah didn't care for her like she cares for you," he murmured.
Bryn sighed and rocked slowly back and forth. "I don't understand Mariah sometimes. I know that she loves me, there's no question about that. But she's… well, she's…"
"Cold? Uncaring? Selfish? A pompous arrogant fool that thinks only of herself? Stop me when I get close," Ceylon said with a mischievous grin.
She shot him a dark scowl and rose to her feet. Ceylon watched her curiously as she went into the other room and fingered a small box on the shelf. It was painted bright red with intricate golden symbols along the edges. "Mariah's not like that, but she's not exactly the most forthcoming person I've ever met," she said idly. Mariah hadn't told her much about her life, and she usually felt like Mariah was hiding something from her. But she wasn't cold, and she certainly wasn't selfish.
Bryn slid to the ground, her back resting against the bookshelf. She could feel Ceylon just around the corner, watching her.
From the solemn darkness of the underground shrine suddenly came a bolt of blinding light which slammed in
to the chest of the demon. Its nether form twisted cruelly in the power of the blast until finally the shadow was vaporized. The room again fell dark and cold, the torches on the walls seemed to cower at the onslaught of this terrible power. Bryn stood paralyzed near one of the shelves, her hands fingering a few various artifacts. Mariah yelled out for her, her heart racing with fear. Finally, Bryn managed a faint squeak. "I am here, Mariah."
Mariah rushed over to her and embraced her body tightly. Tears were running down her cheeks, moistening the fabric of his uniform.
"I was so worried, Bryn. There are dangerous things down here… not to mention Ceylon."
Bryn nodded into his chest and softly said, "I am so sorry, Mariah. I was just curious."
"Please do not feel too bad. I am just glad that you are safe. However, I will need to know what you touched down here and what the demon said to you."
"He was very scary Mariah…" She choked weakly. "I felt the evil radiating from him, yet I do feel bad for him. You kept Ceylon down here, all alone in this darkness, chained up like an animal. No being deserves such treatment."
"Bryn, there is much about Ceylon you do not understand; though there is one thing I can show you now. I noticed you used to word 'kept' when describing him. Ceylon is not gone; his vile form is reborn. Look."
Bryn slowly turned her head to the archway, seeing a slumping shadow in the middle of the room. Mariah gently turned her body to again face her. "Bryn, I need to know what he told you."
"He… I… he…" She swallowed hard and took a deep breath to calm herself. After a few moments, she started again. "He… talked about Jasmine. He said you killed her, Mariah, but I know it isn't true. It just can't be."
Mariah sighed heavily. "Well, I am not the one that took her life, but I made a mistake that allowed it to happen. But for now, let's get out of here. I could really use some natural light." Bryn nodded weakly against her chest.
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