The Dark Calling

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The Dark Calling Page 8

by Cole, Kresley


  I swiped my thorn claws at him. Couldn’t bring myself to use poison on him. Five blades sliced his layered clothing to reach his flesh. Blood gushed. He yelled, releasing me.

  I plummeted again. Falling!

  I landed . . . in a snowbank. My teeth clattered, but I was uninjured. The yellow haze ended just feet from me. I tripped forward, clearing the boundary. Would Gabriel pursue me? Paul might lose his power over the Angel.

  Gabriel hovered in the air but wouldn’t cross the edge.

  “I did cut off your wings, Angel. Come punish me for it.”

  He remained in place, as if he were a tethered kite—with Paul pulling the string. “I want my mind clear. I need the Hanged Man’s knowledge, and he needs us to fuel his sphere.” Even now it was growing.

  I backed up several steps. “You’re afraid of me,” I taunted. “I must’ve cut off your balls as well.”

  “Classic Empress. You think to lure me away from my new alliance? Your time shall come.”

  Howls sounded from the castle. The wolves readied to hunt.

  Gabriel grinned, exposing his fangs. “That time is now.”

  Lark’s animals would probably be able to leave Paul’s sphere. If so, my only shot at survival was getting to the Tower on the next mountain over. I turned—

  Sparking blinded me.

  Joules! Not surprisingly, he’d made a beeline for the action. He was weighed down with winter gear, only his glittery face visible. “What the feck is happening over there?”

  I’d never thought I’d be so happy to see his scrawny Irish self.

  Gabriel called, “She attacked me when I tried to save her.” He drew aside his coat, revealing the bloody gashes I’d given him.

  Joules’s eyes went wide. “You hurt my boyo?” He raised one of his silver lightning javelins.

  Between breaths, I said, “Listen, Gabriel’s been brainwashed by a new card, the inactivated one. Any Arcana within that yellow sphere is under the Hanged Man’s control.” Wolves howled. “Joules, we don’t have time. Lark and Death are coming for me.”

  Joules was confused—which meant he was spitting mad. “As if the Reaper would take out the one female he can get with!”

  “They are after her for good reason, Patrick,” Gabriel said. “She poisoned the Magician.”

  Joules sparked like a reactor. “Finn’s done for?”

  “Yes, and the Empress has targeted us next. In the past, she killed us. She cut off my wings for a trophy.”

  Joules gave me a disbelieving look that faded when I couldn’t deny anything. “That’s right fecked up.”

  “But I didn’t kill Finn.” If I possessed any mesmerizing power at all, I called on it now, telling Joules, “I swear I didn’t.” Grasping for the most compelling vow I could make, I said, “I swear on Jack’s life.”

  “Jack’s dead! We all know Richter got him.” Maybe not?

  The howling wolves neared. I faced Gabriel. “Prove me a liar, then. Just come out from that sphere.”

  Joules told his friend, “I’m about to fry this one. So put me mind at ease and step out from the haze.”

  Gabriel offered his hand. “Come stand behind me. I will protect you.”

  I said, “Joules, if you go in there, you’ll get brainwashed too. Those beasts are closing in fast. He’s not going to help us.”

  Finally, doubt crossed the Tower’s expression. “C’mere, mate. Meet me halfway.”

  “Come stand with me, Patrick. You shall be enlightened. You shall know all the secrets of the game. If you side with my new alliance, I guarantee you will be safe from Fauna and the Reaper.”

  “Side with the bastard who killed my Cally? Now I know you’re barmy. All the same, I’ll take my chances with this tart.” He hiked a thumb at me.

  Thanks?

  “Join us.” Gabriel’s face took on a macabre cast. “And then you will be safe from me.”

  Joules raised his pointy chin. “I’d rather die.”

  Gabriel waved a wing behind him in the direction of the wolves. “That is being arranged.”

  Joules’s jaw dropped. “You’re goin’ to kick back and watch me get eaten?”

  I grabbed his bony arm. “We need to run!” I yanked him away from his best friend.

  He staggered along, eyes wide. “What the bloody hell? Tell me you got a plan to undo this.”

  “I do,” I lied. “We can save them. But only if we survive.”

  Joules nodded, determination overwhelming his shock. He yelled over his shoulder, “We’ll be back for you, Gabe.” With one last look, he sped forward, taking the lead. “We need a vantage.” He pointed toward the next hill, a steep snow-covered rise. “If I get to higher ground, I can light this place up.” His javelin glimmered reassuringly. “We’re talking dead mutts all over the place.”

  “Three of those wolves are her familiars. They can’t be killed.” Roars sounded. “Besides, she’s sending far more than mutts.”

  As we ran, Joules hurled spears blindly behind us, explosions sounding in the distance. He launched one after another, beginning to sweat.

  “Save some bolts. We’re going to need them.”

  He looked like I’d insulted his manhood. “I can do this all night.” He twirled one spear. “And I got a special one for your man Death. Oh, wait—the Reaper’s not your man anymore. Christ, Empress, you move through ’em fast. Jack, Sol, and Death. Three blokes in as many months.”

  “I wasn’t with Sol. Can we focus on current freaking events?”

  When we reached the hill, we fell silent as we trudged up the incline. Hunger had clearly sapped him, and my legs were Jell-O. How could I make it to the top?

  Struggling . . . struggling . . . For the last dozen feet, I had to crawl in Joules’s path.

  Made it! I lumbered to stand. We both put our hands on our knees and caught our breath.

  Below us, the hillside teemed with beasts. Dark fur against white snow.

  I glanced behind me. The hill dropped off in a sheer slope on its other side.

  Joules opened his palm to produce yet another javelin. Had it been sluggish to appear? He bellowed, “Get ready for a light show, arseholes. THE LORD O’ LIGHTNING IS IN THE—”

  The ground disappeared from beneath us. In a cloud of snow, we tumbled down the steeper side. An avalanche! It swept us along like one of Circe’s currents.

  My scream was cut off by a searing pain. Joules’s spear had stabbed my shoulder. We plunged lower and lower. Feet over my head. Dizziness. Lurching.

  Abrupt—STOP.

  For a moment I was relieved just to be still, until I realized all I could see was blackness. Cocooned in snow. No air.

  Panic surged. Which way was out? Where was up? Head spinning, I dug frantically . . . .

  A javelin pierced the cocoon beside me. Frenzied, I changed direction and dug toward that spear.

  Joules hauled me out. Sprawled on my back, I sucked in greedy breaths. Air never tasted so good.

  Coated in powder, Joules said, “You were digging the wrong way.”

  Then he’d just saved my life. My sense of direction never failed to fail.

  He motioned toward my shoulder. “Sorry about stabbing you.”

  Blood had stained the snow, but I didn’t feel the numbed injury. Cold and adrenaline were great painkillers. Making it to my knees, I surveyed our new surroundings. We must’ve traveled a mile down that mountain, landing in what looked like a ravine. Was this an old road?

  My stomach lurched again. Oh, no, not now.

  I wobbled to the side and threw up.

  “Do that on your own time. We’ve got to move.”

  I vomited till my stomach was empty. Wiped my mouth. Took three tries to get to my feet.

  The sound of howls spurred me. The wolves were well beyond Paul’s boundary, which meant they’d never stop until they’d caught us.

  Crunch, crunch. Wolves gotta eat. Now it would be my bones.

  Joules and I staggered along the ravine.
“Any ideas, Tower?”

  “Yeah. Avoid them.” He pointed in front of us. Large eyes glowed in the darkness. Scarface was blocking our exit.

  In rapid succession, Joules launched three javelins. When the wolf beat a hasty retreat, Joules yanked me around in the other direction.

  “Running out of juice here.” He must have burned through a hundred javelins. His skin no longer sparked. “Anytime you want to throw in some vines, Empress.”

  “I’m tapped out from fighting the others.”

  “Come on, you’ve got to be sandbagging. You canna manage one bloody petal?”

  “I’m pregnant, okay?”

  He gave a mad bark of laughter. “Who’s the unlucky father? Death? You’re takin’ the piss.”

  “Just shut up and run, you fucking leprechaun! Scarface will be back. And there are hundreds more . . .” I trailed off.

  Up ahead, eyes glowed from another animal blockade. Maneater and company were in front of us. Scarface’s growl sounded from behind us.

  We were trapped.

  As Maneater licked her drooling chops, Cyclops limped forward to join her. Again I spied something like confusion in his eye. The wounds I’d given him earlier still poured blood.

  “We’re surrounded.” Joules opened his palm, but nothing appeared. He stared down at his hand in bafflement. “Tapped out? Never happened in me life.”

  “Where’s the fecking Lord o’ Lightning?”

  “I’ve never been starving before!” He made a fist. With a yell, he opened his hand again. Nothing.

  As the wolves on both sides closed in, Joules and I stared at each other.

  I needed the red witch; I needed rage. All I could manage were exhaustion and resignation.

  Aric would never forgive himself for this. Never. He would somehow win the game—he always won—and he’d live as penance till we could be together again.

  “Any last words, Empress?”

  “Look on the bright side, Joules. You’re so prickly, they’ll choke on you.”

  His lips curled into a gallows grin. “And you’ll poison ’em—”

  Headlights beamed into our eyes.

  11

  A huge truck barreled along the ravine floor. Scarface whirled around, snarling at the new threat.

  IMPACT. A deafening yelp sounded as he went somersaulting through the air. Joules and I dropped to the ground, dodging his claws.

  The wolf collided with Maneater and Cyclops, a gigantic wrecking ball. They tangled into a heap of limbs.

  The truck window rolled down. As my eyes adjusted to the brightness, I spied a man with intense eyes, a beret, and sigh-worthy cheekbones.

  Kentarch! His tableau shimmered over him, a helmeted warrior driving a horse-drawn chariot—and it was right-side up. “Get in the back,” he commanded in a deep, accented voice.

  Joules and I scrambled to the passenger door. I yanked on the handle. Locked.

  “The far back,” he enunciated.

  The Tower and I shared a look, then headed for the truck bed. He was still hauling me over the tailgate when Kentarch floored it, spraying snow. Ahead, the wolves leapt to their paws and darted out of his way.

  The lights mounted on the cab roof illuminated a mass of animals swarming behind us. Kentarch raced the truck like a chariot, and the ride was just as smooth—in other words, not at all. We bounced along, the large tires airborne more often than not.

  Canvas netting covered crates in the back; Joules and I clung to the net for dear life. Sweat and blood on my face began to freeze.

  Joules muttered curses as he wrestled to hold on. “He’s the Chariot?”

  I nodded. Aric called Kentarch the Centurion because of past games. But our cards did evolve—if we survived this wild ride, I’d never think of Kentarch as anything other than the Chariot.

  “You know this bloke? Trust him?”

  “I know of him. Never met him before. He allies with Aric.”

  “And the Reaper wants you dead.”

  I bit out, “Any suggestions?”

  The back window whirred open. “What is happening at the castle?” Kentarch asked, sounding as calm as Aric had when chased by missiles. “I was invited there, yet a war zone greeted me.”

  I released my handhold and crawled toward the window. “Death and the others have been brainwashed by the Hanged Man. I’ll tell you all about it. You mind if we climb inside?”

  “Yes.” The window closed, leaving a slender gap.

  Dick! It wasn’t as if I’d killed him in the past. Oh, wait.

  Joules yelled, “We’ve got company!”

  I jerked my head around. The wolves had regrouped, were tearing over the landscape. Scarface led the pack, closing in fast. He tensed like he was about to lunge for us. I cried, “Punch it!”

  Kentarch gunned the engine; the wolf missed by inches, jaws slamming shut around air. SNAP.

  As we sped faster, birds and bats dive-bombed the truck, splattering themselves across the windshield.

  What was that up ahead? My foggy mind registered the sight: A bear had just tromped onto the narrow road through the ravine.

  This was no normal bear—Lark must’ve fed it her blood when it was a cub. Which meant the thing had grown to be gargantuan, nearly as tall as Ogen.

  She’d already had a bear. What else had she raised that she hadn’t told us about?

  The beast reared up on its hind legs, stretching its arms wide, claws gouging both ravine walls. No way around it. No way to reverse.

  Joules opened his free hand, willing another javelin to appear. “Bloody feck, mother, bloody feck.” When he came up empty, he yelled to Kentarch, “Ram it! If we can get past it, the road opens up.”

  “Are you crazy?” I cried. “It’s way bigger than a wolf. It’ll crumble this truck.” Even if we survived the collision, the other beasts would just descend on us.

  “I’d rather die in a crash than from fangs.”

  Through the crack in the window, I thought I heard Kentarch calmly say, “This will hurt.”

  I clutched the side of the truck, bracing for impact yet again. Sooner or later, my luck would run out. I was betting on now.

  Even the birds must have sensed the impending collision—they eased off their assault, circling above the roadway.

  Joules began reciting the Lord’s Prayer, then broke off to do a countdown: “Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . FECK!”

  But the crash I expected didn’t happen. Shivers raced over me. Time seemed to slow. Suddenly we were surrounded by the bear—we were . . . inside the bear.

  Its mighty heart thundered right before my eyes. Tha-thud. Tha-thud. Real or unreal? We moved past as if in slow motion.

  Just as we started to clear the massive body, those shivers returned, and the truck solidified—while the tailgate was still in the bear.

  It exploded from the pressure. Gore and chunks of fur spewed into the air. Blood splashed the back of the truck.

  “Wh-what happened?”

  “Boyo up there teleported this entire truck through the bear. And there’s a sentence I never thought I’d say.”

  I’d seen . . . its heart. Kentarch had moved the mass of this vehicle—through the mass of that bear. No wonder Aric had been so excited to have this ally joining him.

  “Are we clear of them?” I asked.

  “Nothin’ can catch us now.”

  In front of us: a desolate road. Behind us: thwarted wolves. Maneater snapped at Scarface, and a scuffle broke out between them.

  Joules bellowed into the night, “Get fecked, Fauna!”

  I gazed away, my attention drawn to the top of a mountain in the distance. Aric. He was astride his warhorse Thanatos, illuminated by the yellow haze.

  I drew back my whipping hair. He sheathed his swords.

  The bastard had already retrieved them. Way to prioritize, Reaper.

  For my own survival, I was being separated from my husband, the father of my kid. My only hope was for him to leav
e that sphere. I somehow managed to yell, “Come and get me, Death!” While inside, I was pleading, Please, Aric, please come and get me . . . .

  12

  When I could no longer stand the cold, I knocked on the icy rear window, wincing as pain stabbed through my bare knuckles. My teeth were chattering. “C-can we come inside?”

  Kentarch glanced at the rearview mirror.

  “Chariot, please. I’m freezing, injured, and powerless.”

  “Why should I trust you?”

  “Because if I had any of my abilities, I wouldn’t have needed you to save our lives back there.”

  Joules added, “We’d both accepted that we were wolf chow. Not by choice.”

  Noting his camo jacket, I said, “Come on, soldier. We’re what you’d call neutralized threats.”

  Kentarch slowed to a stop. “Try to harm me, and I’ll put you inside another animal. Or a boulder.”

  Talk about an awful way to die. “Understood.”

  Joules and I hopped down from the back. Hastening to the passenger door, I climbed into the front, sliding over the wide bench, Joules right behind me. Kentarch gunned it again.

  “Cheers, Chariot.” Joules gazed around the roomy cab in awe. “Talk about tricked-out.”

  Electronics covered the dash—everything from an outdoor thermometer display to a CB box, to a small monitor with GPS coordinates plugged in. Did GPS still work? Aric had said most satellites were untouched.

  Storage pouches abounded. The sun visor had sleeves for even more gear: a penlight, a couple of unrecognizable hand tools, and a picture of a gorgeous, smiling woman about Kentarch’s age. A rifle was mounted to the ceiling, within his easy reach.

  “You got a name for this beast?”

  With a shrug, Kentarch turned up the heater. His jacket billowed, revealing a holstered pistol. He also had a pair of blades strapped to a thigh.

  I raised my hands to the warmth. “Thanks.” My fingertips were discolored, and that snakebite was swollen. I should’ve already regenerated from two tiny puncture wounds—so, definitely venomous.

 

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