The raven-haired teens entered the clearing next. Four boys and five girls dressed in deep crimson robes with hoods pulled back, serene smiles painted on their Michelangelo faces. The short, curling locks of their baby-soft hair, like raven feathers, shone against their fine porcelain skin. They chanted in their strange language, and each carried a shallow bowl. I wondered what they intended to fill them with—and fought a wave of pulsing nausea.
A stillness settled on the clearing, and even the bear stopped his wild thrashing and listened. My breath sped in my chest and I fought back the fear that threatened to drive me once again to the brink of sanity.
“Are you afraid to look into my face when you kill me, Azriel?” I directed my words to one of the hooded figures. The open confrontation bolstered my courage and helped to slow my racing heart. “Don’t tell me you’ve come this far only to hide behind a blanket when you do the deed.”
His icy laughter trickled from deep within the hood, and he reached back to pull the cowl from his dark head. He gazed down at me and smiled.
“Is this better?” he said, his voice as cold as his laughter.
I wasn’t sure it was. Maybe it was better to be killed by an anonymous stranger than someone you’d known in the biblical sense. “What about you, Tyler?” I asked, letting my bravado wash any trace of fear from my voice. “Why stop now? Let’s get this all out in the open.”
Strong and proud in his crimson robe, he lifted his hands to the hood and pulled it back. I tried to suppress the tears pricking behind my eyes, but I was too late, and pain won out over strength.
“Tyler,” I implored.
He stared off into space, eyes straight ahead, seeming to focus on nothing, and his mouth curved up in a handsome, detached smile. The bile rose in my throat, burning, nearly choking me. The bear snarled from the center of the clearing, echoing my rage and frustration at being duped by someone I’d cared for.
“It’s almost time,” he said.
“You asshole,” I said through clenched teeth. “How could you do this to me?”
“The nine must be set free,” he said, cut-and-dried. “When day becomes night, you will turn stone to flesh and the Enphigmalé will be free.”
Anxious murmurs ran through the crowd of Lyhtans, and I sensed an escalation in their excitement. Azriel smiled.
“Looks like your army is assembled and ready to go to work,” I said in an effort to buy time. “What’s your plan? Kill me, bring these statues to life somehow, and make war with Xander?”
“Why stop there?” Azriel asked. “A wrong must be righted, and the Enphigmalé will claim their rightful place. The true natural order will be restored. We will hold dominion over every creature, including the humans. And those who have wronged us will die.”
“I’m going to kill you,” I said, my voice as calm as an ice-covered pond. “And I’m going to take my time.”
Azriel chuckled, replacing his hood—a little like re-wrapping a present, in my opinion—and stepped away from the dais to take his place beside the bower. A light breeze stirred the willowy green, leafy branches that swayed above his head, framing him like a living portrait.
The seconds ticked away inside me, and I looked to the sky. Sun and moon were nearly touching now. Inching together like lovers joining in slow motion, night and day would soon be one. I’d never believed in prophesies before, but as I watched the joining of heavenly bodies, I would never doubt one again.
Nine guardians chanted, oblivious to their surroundings, lost in the moment and the coming ritual like enthralled youngsters at their favorite concert.
The collective rasping breaths of the Lyhtans converged into a single sound, no longer seething and evil, but almost lulling, melodic. Nature thrived around me, the energy of many creatures swelled within me, and my death loomed before me. My eyes threatened to drift shut. I was so tired. So done with all of it. I wanted to sleep forever, to rid myself of all the emotion that seemed to be only a hindrance. Tyler had ruined me. I was irreparably damaged, and though I wanted to hate him with everything I was worth, the pain of his betrayal tore at me like barbed hooks in my heart.
As if the eclipse took place within my own body, I felt the moon begin to pass over the sun. I became hot and cold all at once. Every cell within me tingled. And the change I had felt coming throughout my days of imprisonment swirled within me, bringing me close to fainting. A surge of energy flowed through me and I lurched, arching my back against the moss-covered dais.
Tyler went down on his knees. I felt his once-cool breath now warm on my face, and I turned away, forbidding myself from taking in a single detail of the features I had grown to cherish. “I love you,” he whispered, though he still refused to look directly at me. His cold, indifferent stare seemed to pass right through me, as if I were invisible. The sob I tried to suppress broke free from my throat. I shook my head in denial.
“Your soul was the blackest hole until you met me. Admit it, Darian. You didn’t know love until I showed it to you.”
I shook my head and bit down hard on the inside of my cheek so I wouldn’t be tempted to answer. Fresh blood welled up in my mouth, and I gagged as it trickled down my throat.
“Your love will free them. And your blood. You have to understand.”
“Tyler,” I gasped, desperate to shake him out of whatever influence held him. “You don’t kill someone you love to bring something evil to life. These creatures are pure hate—I can feel it. How can love breed something like that?”
He kissed the top of my forehead, and I recoiled. It felt wrong somehow, that physical contact. “Don’t do this,” I said, pulling against my bonds. “Please, Ty, you don’t have to follow through with this.”
“Say you love me,” he said. “Let it flow through you, Darian. You can’t fight this any longer. Say it.”
I shook my head. He knew what he’d done to me. As sly as any hunter, he’d crept undetected beneath my skin. I took a deep breath, desperate to inhale the sweet smell of him, but the scent was gone, drowned in a sea of Lyhtan stench.
The teens continued to chant, and one by one they left their posts beside the gargoyles, falling into a single-file procession, walking clockwise around the grassy clearing to end at my feet.
Tyler placed lazy kisses along my forehead before running his fingers through my knotted hair. He hushed and soothed me, and the soft, chanting voices of the teens comforted me. The moon continued its path before the sun, and the light slowly seeped away like water sucking down a dark drain, to bathe us in a gray combination of both.
Pulses like the ticking of time pounded in my chest. I felt every fraction of every second and fought again against the eclipse of my own soul.
“Say you love me, and I’ll end it quickly,” Tyler crooned. “Isn’t that love, Darian? Sparing you from further pain? Say the words and it will all be over.”
The moon moved its last little bit, passing completely in front of the sun. A halo of light shone out from the empty black disk, and I knew I would never be the same. Why not say it? I was tired of this existence, tired of pretending I didn’t care about anything. The gray had swallowed me whole, and I yearned for a little clarity. Black, white, light, dark. I no longer craved obscurity. I could try to lie to him all I wanted, but I could no longer lie to myself.
“I love you, Tyler,” I said through my tears. “Damn you to hell for making me love you.”
Chapter 27
Another pulse of energy rocked my body. Tyler looked to the sky and pulled a shining, blue-steel dagger from the folds of his robes. With surgical precision, he sliced one and then my other wrist. I didn’t feel a thing; my circulation had been cut off from the rope that held me down. A sliver of red flashed against my skin before pouring from the cuts.
My captors, the creepy poster children for birth control, broke their ranks and split to either side of me, filling the bowls with the blood that carried some magical connection to my heart. Not the beating lump of flesh that pumped the
sticky red stuff from my wrists. But the essence of every feeling, every emotion that resided in the secret parts of me that I had hidden away for so long.
Tyler walked around the dais and knelt near my shoulder. I turned and stared straight into his eyes, hoping he saw the defiance burning in my own. Again his gaze seemed to pass right through me. He brushed his lips against my forehead one last time, and I screamed with as much force as I could muster. Thrump-thump, thrump-thump, the soft pounding of my heart echoed in my ears, and the blood gushed in rhythm with each pumping sound. My eyes drooped as I focused on the beat, like the new internal ticking that marked the passage of time inside me, and I felt a surge of peace. I floated in nothingness for a brief and pleasurable moment. I wondered if I’d go to heaven when I died. No tunnel of heavenly light appeared to welcome me. I was more than likely headed somewhere considerably warmer. I didn’t bother atoning for my sins. What was done was done, and it was too late to consider making amends with God or anyone else.
Tyler’s face loomed in my memories; that last look into his eyes frozen in finite detail. His breath no longer cool, but warm against my skin. And then, as if I’d dropped from the sky, I no longer floated in a state of death-bliss. A throbbing from my hand drew my thoughts to the ring circling my thumb. I’d always wondered why the symbol on the ring that was supposed to guarantee my protection had looked like some prehistoric buffalo. I mean, why not something huge? Something fierce, with vicious claws and weight to throw around. An animal with thick, warm fur and impenetrable skin. A beast worthy of the term protector. The ancient animal carved into the silver was fierce and large; a hulking beast, but no buffalo. My eyes opened wide in pain, and, finally, recognition. A Lyhtan’s scream pierced the air, and Tyler cocked his head toward the sound. The movement was almost . . .
“You’re not Tyler!” I gasped, struggling against the rope restraining my bleeding wrists. “Who are you?” I spit at the cloaked figure and kicked my legs. “Who the fuck are you?”
The teens had filled their bowls with my supposedly magic blood and filed in a respectful line, walking the clearing counterclockwise this time. Each took up their former positions in front of his or her corresponding statue. Each dipped a finger in the bowl of blood, and, in turn, anointed the forehead of the statue with a long, bright-red smear.
A cool breeze stirred from the center of the clearing, from where the bear had been chained, and hit me full in the face. The sweetest smell permeated my senses, and for a moment I could almost taste his cool kisses. Tyler was here, right under my nose the entire time, watching over me. How could I have let my eyes trick me so easily?
The furious chanting of the dark-haired guardians drew my attention. Their ritual had begun. One of the girls raised her bowl and paused. The moon pulled away from the sun, and a sliver of light shone onto the clearing. I observed the whole gruesome scene, noticing hundreds of details in a space of time no longer than a single second. . . .
Azriel stood, proud and smirking, at the bower, watching with sick delight as my blood drained from the gashes at my wrists.
The Lyhtans, worked into a frenzy, cried out in myriad voices for killing, for revenge, for retribution.
Nine teens stood before nine gargoyle statues, chanting in low, melodious voices, bowls poised above gaping stone mouths.
The moon traveled, undeterred by the events taking place below it, to reveal more of the sun’s glorious warmth.
Tall grass swayed, the short grass of the clearing quivered, and a breeze whispered through the trees, sounding like crumpling tissue paper and soft applause.
And at last I locked my gaze with the bear, pacing and pulling at his chain, desperate to free himself. I looked hard and deep into those eyes for the first time and noticed the beautiful hazel color, green with an almost-brown star blooming from the pupil. I’d had to learn so much in such a short time, I’d forgotten Xander’s Genie 101. . . . They possess a very powerful magic and can change shape and form, but only when their charge is threatened. . . . The shape they choose is the physical embodiment of their protection. It must have happened when the Lyhtans attacked him. A knee-jerk reaction, because he knew they were after me. All this time, my Jinn had been protecting me, and I’d been too stupid to realize it. But why remain in animal form? Did it make him stronger? More capable of keeping me safe?
“Tyler!” I called out. “I wish Raif were here! I wish he were here now! Please, Tyler!”
Tyler’s bear lips quivered and he mewled in answer. I turned to the imposter standing beside me. “Why don’t you show your true face, coward?”
The blood loss had begun to take a toll on me. My breathing was labored as I tried to focus on saving myself. There was fight left in me, and I wasn’t about to go out flat on my back.
As the moon finished its passage across the sun, the clearing filled with blinding sunlight. I realized as the rays poured down on me that I had become something more than I had been, and with the passage of the eclipse, that transformation was complete. I thought about the cuts on my wrists, bathing the lovely green grass in crimson red, and I visualized the cuts healing more quickly than even my supernatural body allowed. Close, I told the cuts. Heal. Stop bleeding.
A chill ran the length of my arms and snaked around my wrists like bracelets made of ice. The sensation intensified, and though I couldn’t see the wounds, I felt my skin pull together, sensed the bleeding as it stopped.
By small degrees, my strength returned and I pulled against the Lyhtan hair binding me to the stone dais. My right ankle and then the left broke free, and I rotated the stiff and nearly numb extremities until I was certain I could move. I pulled with my arms and they broke the Lyhtan hair as if I’d been tied down with merely a thread.
The imposter Tyler flinched, taking a cautious step back. Indecision marred his features as he looked back and forth from me to the kids, who carried on as if nothing disturbed their moment in time. My body tingled in the sunlight. A faint glow burst from my skin, filtering all around me, but I had little time to contemplate these changes. I had to do something to stop the insufferable teenagers, who proceeded as if the world held nothing more enchanting than these nine horrible statues and the bowls of my blood.
The first of the nine lifted her bowl above the gaping maw of the snarling gargoyle. She poured the blood into the mouth of the beast, draining every last drop into the lifeless statue.
A vicious snarl cleaved the air, and the earth shook beneath me. I looked wide-eyed to the first gargoyle and watched in horror as it sprang from its perch and mauled the girl, tearing at her flesh with razor-sharp teeth. It no longer resembled hard granite; the gray flesh appeared smooth and supple. The sinews of its body flexed, and its wings beat slowly, stretching a body frozen in stone for ages. Its dull skin quivered as it lapped at the torn and bloody body it held in a clawed grasp. And the tongue that had once been curled inside its gaping mouth flicked out, forked and seemingly as sharp as a whetted blade.
Tyler’s stolen form shimmered for a moment, a wave of clear energy reminding me of a mirage. Or a glamour. A clever creature, indeed, but no Shaede could change its form to that extent. I leapt toward the imposter and tackled him to the ground, surprised at how easily I managed the feat.
I wrestled the dagger from his hand, still dripping with my blood, and held the tip to my would-be killer’s throat. “Show yourself,” I said.
The mirage flickered, and dull, expressionless eyes transformed to a milky blue. His head deflated and became small and girlish, fragile even, framed with mousy brown hair. The masculine frame grew more female and much more delicate. I stared at the tiny woman beneath me with disbelieving eyes. All at once, the truth seemed stranger to me than the illusion.
“Delilah,” I said.
“There’s nothing you can do!” She seethed. “It’s already begun, and once the transformation is complete, the Enphigmalé will be free!”
I looked up as a second guardian emptied his bowl, mimicking his
neighbor’s actions. He fed the blood into the gargoyle’s mouth and it sprang to life, devouring his body in large, crunching bites.
“Why?” I had a hard time wrapping my mind around her decision to see this awful thing through. She was Tyler’s friend. I thought she’d been mine. What was her motivation? What could have filled her with so much hate?
Surrounded by enemies, I tried to assess the risk to myself and my only ally. The bear, or, rather, Tyler in bear form, pulled against his chain, but he was safe. And the third guardian of nine emptied the last of my blood from his bowl. Azriel stood guard at the bower, frozen by fear or wonder as he watched the grisly scene unfold. And the Lyhtans . . . they were so entertained by the violence, they’d forgotten about me altogether. But that would last only so long.
“They awaken,” Delilah said in awe. “The Enphigmalé will mete out death to those who imprisoned them. And for my part, I’ll finally have revenge.”
“Revenge?” Good lord, what kind of grudge could Delilah be harboring to prompt her to set these events in motion?
“Do you know how long I’ve waited?” Delilah wailed. Her eyes darted from side to side, making her look on the verge of madness. “What I had to do to orchestrate it all? It will all be worth it. Once he’s freed from his beast, those who’ve wronged us will pay. He promised me!”
Christ, she wasn’t making an ounce of sense. I debated a course of action. Listen to more of Delilah’s incoherent ramblings, or shut her up once and for all. With a heavy-handed swing, I knocked her out in a single punch. Taking a chance, I cut several strands of my hair with her dagger, using them to secure her wrists behind her back and her ankles. I plucked her from the ground and tossed her down on the dais, leaving her until I could decide what to do with her. In the meantime, I had a ritual to stop and a bear to set free.
Three of the kids were in the process of being devoured by the living Enphigmalé. Their batlike wings flapped in the breeze while they enjoyed their meals.
Shaedes of Gray: A Shaede Assassin Novel Page 27