Companion of Darkness_An Epic Fantasy Series

by CJ Rutherford

  My eyes locked on the dragon’s. I didn’t need my abilities to feel the anger as she ground her teeth together. The sound was like a landslide of rocks.

  Lyssa stood, her arms crossed. “Well, doggie? I’m waiting.” There was no scent of eldar magic. Whatever bound the dragons to their will was something else.

  A shockwave assaulted my ears and made me leap. The unicorns whinnied in fright, and Lyssa took a step back. Her eyes positively dripped with fury.

  “What was that, dragon?” It was barely a whispered hiss, but it chilled me to the bone.

  The dragon grinned, the razor-sharp teeth glinting like finely polished blades. “You asked me to bark, princess. I barked. Would you like me to roll over now?” Bitter amusement tittered in my head and I couldn’t resist a smile, especially as her voice had been calm and level. I decided I liked this dragon. I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d be able to, however, as Lyssa’s temper flared. Her magic shook the air and the ground; static filled the air as lightning bolts rained down, but the dragon simply stood staring down at her, unaffected, a nonchalant expression on her face.

  Lyssa seethed, her teeth clenched. “I could command you to break your neck flying into the side of a mountain, and you could not resist, beast.”

  Ah, so the power extended to direct commands only. There must be some magical way to summon them though. As I filed this new knowledge away, my chest swelled with a familiar cinnamon scent.

  The huge shadow swept over us as Glyran alighted beside the cobalt dragon, their glows combining to create a rainbow of color. “If you were to do that, princess…you might just find yourself without your greatest asset.” This was another message. Glyran was revealing that the curse – whatever it was – had limits. There were things the eldar couldn’t do, like making the dragons commit suicide.

  Rage bubbled in my head as Glyran looked at me. For a second, I wondered what I’d done wrong. His eyes narrowed, but the murderous fury turned on the princess. ‘She took your wings!’ I actually thought he’d lose control and kill her, and I knew he desperately wanted to but couldn’t.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I lied, and he knew it as his eyes snapped to mine.

  He turned back to Lyssa. “I think the request was to roll over and play dead.” He looked sideways at the other dragon. I wished I’d asked her name.

  Humor again washed over me as Glyran read my thoughts. I was totally open to him, I realized. I suppose I should try to control it, but I trusted him implicitly.

  ‘Her name is Astria, and she is my sister’s child. Precocious she was to answer the summons before her elders.’ Glyran’s displeasure barely masked his amusement and pride in his niece.

  Astria nudged his neck then looked down at me. ‘Should I roll over now or make her wait?’ Their combined laughter made me cover my mouth.

  The whole conversation took a split second, and Lyssa still stood looking up at the two dragons. I sensed this was a victory, although one that might have consequences. Lyssa would be eager to take her anger out on a helpless victim.

  My heart sank. Besides Brecca, I was the only target for her fury, and I wasn’t about to let Brecca take it.

  “Lyssa,” I called. “I tire of this game. It is clear the dragons are beneath your consideration, so let them return to their hovel in the north. Besides…I’m hungry.”

  The princess turned on me, and my skin burned as her eyes shone with fury before darkening as the mask reappeared. “Of course, Jes. I’m sorry that our first outing did not live up to your expectations.” The last word promised a night of pain and several others beyond that.

  Glyran’s horned brows furrowed, the long horns scraping together like a forest of bamboo. His thoughts merged with Astria’s as they took to the air, a waft of cinnamon and clove in their wake.

  ‘A debt is owed to you, Jesaela. Outside of the curse, whatever you ask we will give.’

  Firehoof raised his head and Tears of Twilight snorted.

  ‘You heard?’

  Firehoof nodded, a totally beast-like gesture, as Lyssa jumped up onto Tear’s back.

  ‘I heard, child.’ A feeling accompanied the words, a warning. ‘You play a dangerous game. The curse is ancient, and many have tried, and failed, to break it.’ He looked over at the crystal towers. ‘Inside, there are many enemies. Our place is low, in the stable, but we see and hear much.’

  Firehoof. The name rang in my mind. ‘Glyran gave you that name, didn’t he?’

  The muscles under me briefly tensed. ‘To anyone else I would have denied it, but yes.’ Firehoof breathed deeply, his already mighty chest swelling. ‘I shall tell you the story of how he named me as a foal, if—”

  “Come, Jes.” Lyssa interrupted us. I couldn’t look at him. I followed the princess back to my prison, steeling myself against the agony to come.

  I glanced over my shoulder at the glint of blue and gold shining in the sky, then turned to face the Citadel. A dark figure was staring down from the battlements. It was only there for an instant before disappearing in a flash.

  From a tower overlooking the gates, Lyssa’s parents watched their daughter and her new companion dismount and let the unicorns be led off to the stables, before stepping onto a circle and blinking away.

  King Lorath’s hands clenched on the golden crystalline railings. “I wonder how long this one will last.” The words were bitter, but his tense shoulders loosened as his wife placed her warm hand on top of his, laying her head on his wide shoulder.

  “She is only a faerie, my love.” Lilith’s voice was cold, emotionless.

  He knew his wife still loved him, for now, but a century ago, she’d had compassion for all the other races of Teralia. Soon the rot would rob her affection for him as well. Her beating heart would turn to deepest obsidian, as would his own.

  Lorath allowed himself the briefest glimpse into the only part of him that still remained hidden. Day by day, the desperate hope that lived within the last spark of his self-awareness diminished. Emotions rose up, and he fought the tightening in his throat. He couldn’t allow the darkness to know he still had a shard of himself, one tiny shred of defiance still resisting its will, hiding the one thing it desired above all else. It would have all of him soon enough, but as he watched his daughter, the last hope they truly had, step onto the circle and disappear, he used all the will he had left to offer a prayer to the Great Maker for her to succeed.

  He closed his eyes, closing and burying the memory. He felt the darkness rise up, the moment of lucidity slipping from the fingers of his soul. It had taken centuries to manifest inside him, but now it came and went at will. Resistance was futile. He’d fought for a thousand years against the inexorable rise of corruption within. Now, it was almost welcome as he slipped into darkness.

  Lorath’s eyes glazed over as the dark form left the shadows and put a hand on his puppets’ shoulders.

  Looking down at the vacant transportation circle, the figure smiled. “I think Lyssa will enjoy this one, my friends. In fact, I think our little faerie friend will be good for her. Your daughter’s appetites grow day by day, and Jesaela is proving to be more…resilient than I ever imagined.”

  Inside the eldar king and queen, their souls cried out in silent torment.

  Chapter Four

  The Citadel

  I wasn’t wrong. The days following the meeting on the plains were a symphony of deception and torture. One moment Lyssa and I would be chatting pleasantly with a courtier we’d met while walking the long corridors of the Citadel, the next I’d be writhing in agony in a darkened alcove, hidden and silenced behind a glamour while the princess conversed with another eldar. She’d glance at me in my hiding place and smile serenely, engrossed in small talk with someone she clearly hated, while I silently screamed.

  I had never thought my abilities would work on the eldar, but with each attack, Lyssa’s thoughts grew clearer, and they terrified me. She didn’t just hate everyone here, she was hatred personified.

  Eve
n worse, it wasn’t just the princess who was somehow…wrong. Everyone I encountered had a taint of corruption. Once, we passed two young pages on the way to breakfast. They talked and bandied around the gossip all the eldar seemed to be fascinated with – which house had allied with another and how the other houses reacted, or who had been found in a compromising situation with another – but below the surface, envy and hatred of the other seethed. Each would be willing to use any method to better themselves at their colleague’s expense.

  The peace and serenity I’d felt when I arrived was a mask. The entire Citadel was a warzone, but instead of blood being spilled, rivers of spite swept the halls.

  We strode up the spiral staircase a few days later, my head bowed in submission and hopeless despair, the earlier torture stiffening my muscles. Lyssa’s skirts flowed up the stairs. My homespun dress, disguised by her spell to appear graceful to all but her, chafed and did everything it could to trip me up. It was yet another of her petty torments.

  “Today was boring, don’t you think?” Lyssa looked back over her shoulder.

  I looked around. We were alone, so I didn’t know if this was another trick. If boring counted that she’d only punished me once, then maybe I should agree. I stayed silent.

  Lyssa stopped at my door. I had never got beyond this point so could only assume her rooms were above mine, farther up the spiral staircase.

  “Goodnight, Jesaela.”

  I started. She had called me by my full name. A strange, trance-like expression crossed her fine features then she turned and floated upward, disappearing around the central column.

  What just happened? For almost a week, Lyssa had tortured me every day, at least once but usually multiple times, and she’d always left me at the door to my rooms with a parting gift…a stab of pain or some other form of torment. I stood looking at the door to my rooms. I shook my head. I must have imagined the whole thing. I’d no doubt open the door to a blizzard or a forge.

  I clenched my sore hands into fists before tentatively reaching out to touch the doorframe with the back of my wrist, falling back as the frame morphed into an archway of blue roses. The smell was tantalizing, a whiff of cloves. What was this?

  The door opened. My eyes narrowed. The room was gone, replaced by a glade with sunlight and warmth…and birds. I rushed in, crying out as the tiny minds rushed at me, nipping playfully at my ears as they always had. I stood, looking up at the sun and spinning as my little friends sang on my arms.

  A stream to my left sang the song of the ancient glaciers, and I knelt down to let the water flow over and chill my burning fingertips. I cupped my hand. The clear liquid in my palm sparkled in the light. It was delicious, cold and pure, like the snow it came from.

  I passed my fingers through the soft grass at the water’s edge, reveling in the sensations and scents. It had been little over a week since I’d walked in my forest, but it felt like a lifetime. I was crying, but grinning widely too.

  Then I stopped. Why was this happening? And why now?

  I trembled, waiting for it to disappear and become a horrible nightmare. I was sure this was her plan, to torment me with a tiny taste of home before ripping it away, but as I knelt on the grass, the feelings of home continued to wash over me.

  Eventually I got up, deciding that even if this were to be a fleeting visit, I would savor every second. I took off my shoes and crinkled my toes in the rich grass as I closed my eyes, breathing in the rich aroma, and let the sun warm my upturned face. Illusion or not, it felt real to me. I walked for over an hour. Whatever spell this was, it didn’t let the confines of my room limit it. As the sun began to set, I lay down in a soft bed of moss, looking up at the deepening sky as the first stars sprang to life in the heavens.

  I still didn’t know what had happened to grant me this miracle, but as I fell asleep, I was still smiling.

  The black stone was back, along with the freezing blast of air coming from the open window. I gathered the thin sheet around my shoulders and sighed. The ghosts of the forest lingered in my mind, and no matter what happened I’d still have those. My smile returned.

  At least I was on my bed with the sheet over me, though I didn’t know if that was part of the spell or if my mystery benefactor had revisited during the night. It was still dark, the view out the window revealing no sign of the grayness of dawn, but I wasn’t tired.

  Should I close my eyes and try to sleep? The earlier vision mystified me. Had I done anything to please her, besides suffering in silence? Then there was the mistake she’d made. She’d called me by my full name. Why? She’d always been meticulous in her dealings with others. Outside of my rooms she called me Jes, her best friend and sister.

  I don’t know why, but I got up and walked to the door, hesitating as my hand touched the handle. I was about to cross a line; I knew it but I didn’t care. The echoes of Lyssa’s father’s warning sounded in my brain, but I pushed them aside along with the door. The sense of freedom as I crossed the threshold fought against a rising wave of panic. Deep down inside, a nagging voice begged me to return to the rooms, to cower under the sheet. I squashed it.

  The staircase walls glowed with a soft light, more than enough to see by, as I stole down the steps. I reached the hallway below without encountering another soul. I supposed the castle’s inhabitants slept soundly; at least I hoped they did. I didn’t know quite what I was doing, but with each step I took, the spark of…defiance, bravery…whatever it was, grew stronger although my heart was thundering and the blood was racing through my veins. I peeked around the corner of the arch. If I were caught, even if it was somewhere permitted, I was sure to be punished. I was positive mid-night expeditions were not allowed.

  The hall was a round room with the transportation circle at its center. A dozen archways similar to the one leading to our rooms broke the walls. Some led up, some down, and a few stretched out into wide corridors. I peered down one of them but couldn’t see the end, as it seemed to stretch away to infinity.

  Lyssa and I had never gone through any of these arches, the princess preferring to use the circle to travel wherever her fancy took her. I still didn’t know how the circles worked, so I picked the arch to the left of ours, one that snaked down in a narrow spiral staircase.

  The walls were dark blue crystal, and I ran my fingers over the smooth surface as I descended. It wasn’t long until the steps ended at a long corridor of pale yellow glass. One of the walls was almost completely translucent, allowing a view over the dark expanse of the plain.

  The corridor curved gently around what I supposed must be the outside of one of the larger towers of the Citadel. It was silent and deserted, so I stepped out and looked both ways. On a whim, I took off to the left, looking back over my shoulder to mark the arch in my head. I passed doorways and other arches leading up and down, but I eventually reached a part of the tower that looked inward, over the Citadel. As I stopped to look out over the dim towers and battlements of the vast Citadel, my heart sank as I realized just how small and insignificant I was in this place.

  Glyran had said there were secrets hidden within these walls, but looking at the sheer scale of the place, I wondered if I’d live long enough to explore even a tenth of it. It didn’t help that I didn’t even know what I was looking for, beyond that there was some curse that had to be broken.

  A scrape and a curse came from around the bend. Something dropped to smash on the floor, followed by some more curses in a language I didn’t understand. The cold dread in my belly solidified into a ball of ice. How could I have been so stupid? There was a brief brilliant flash from the direction of the voice, and then footfalls that came in my direction. For a second, I was rooted to the spot, unable to move, utterly terrified. I had to get away, had to get back to my rooms, shut the door, and never come out without Lyssa accompanying me ever again. But I was too late. If I ran, whoever came this way was bound to hear me and raise the alarm. The only place to hide was a dark staircase across the wide corridor, lead
ing down. It was my only choice, so I darted into the shadows a bare half-second before whoever it was rounded the curve of the corridor. Just far enough down the spiral staircase to be out of view from above, I’d wait until it was safe to run back to my rooms.

  The footfalls grew closer. I held my breath as they approached. Just a few more steps, then wait for them to get far enough away so I could climb back up.

  They stopped at the top of the staircase. My heart stopped too. Go away! The first foot landed on the top step. Before I knew it I was rushing down, as fast as I could silently run. My soft slippers helped.

  Whoever was up there was humming. Good, I thought. If they hummed loud enough maybe they wouldn’t hear my ragged breathing. I almost laughed.

  Down and down and down I went. The midnight-blue crystal walls seemed to be growing inward. It didn’t take long to realize it wasn’t my imagination. The walls gradually curved, and eventually I was climbing down a tunnel, narrowing all the time. Maker!

  I stopped for a second to catch a breath. The music was farther back, but if I didn’t find a way out of this staircase soon I was doomed. I took off again. My legs ached and my lungs burned. I’d never run this far before. I hadn’t needed to. I mean, what were wings for if not to get around swiftly?

  Then I felt it. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as the scent of magic hit my nostrils. I emerged into a small hallway. Up ahead were two arches. The left one snaked up into another spiral staircase with emerald walls. To the right was a level corridor. The crystal walls were even darker than the tunnel, the dim glow from the walls making it impossible to see how far it went.

  I shuddered to a stop, breathing heavily. I should go up. Every ounce of common sense told me that was the way to go, but the feeling, the…magnetism, drew me to the path on the right.