Illumination

by M. V. Freeman

  The scent of dust, moldy dirt, and the musk from a scaled hide made the heavy flower of panic blossom in her belly. Her eyes scanned the rock wall, flicking up and down the rough surfaces, anxiety increasing her respirations, making it hard for her to concentrate. She knew there was an opening somewhere here…

  There!

  A small opening, a back passageway she’d been looking for. She ducked in, but not before a clawed hand snagged her at the shoulder. White hot pain ripped down her arm as she jerked it away, and the claw tore down her arm in searing streaks as her skin opened, brutally filleted. She leaped deeper into the small opening.

  “Why are you running from ussss?” another raspy voice taunted. Great. Like that worked the first time. “We won’t let you suffer long.”

  “I’ll just bet,” she muttered, stumbling away from the entrance as a razor-tipped arm stretched toward her, feeling around for its prey. Their heavy shoulders prevented the worms from going further. She stared at the rock worm with its thick body and stone-scaled skin, long snout, and muscular forearms—a cross between a pony-sized worm and very ugly dragon, which made it hard to get into smaller spaces. Mina wasn’t sure what past experiment the Mages did that came up with these things. They’d wandered the lower tunnels for so long, her kind had since forgotten their origins. Personally, she was quite happy that it couldn’t get through. She stuck out her tongue before turning to dart away.

  They’d stay occupied for some time. Stupidity had its uses.

  After a few minutes, Mina stopped and closed her eyes for a moment as she leaned against the rough wall, then opened them. Her arm vacillated between throbbing and numb. Something hot and wet flowed down, soaking her shirt sleeve. It was times like these when she detested her night vision. She could see her ripped shirt, the edges ragged as flesh lay flayed open, muscle glistening as dark blood flowed freely. The image dipped as dizziness rolled over her.

  This isn’t looking good.

  No. She wasn’t going to fall out. She should’ve never come back home to get her spell books. But, she’d made a promise to Nicki. And Darks always kept their promises. Gritting her teeth, she put one hand over the wound to stop the bleeding and continued down the small passageway. The wet, chalky scent was strong. No one ever came through these places. It was the one thing she’d made a point of doing growing up—exploring every unused tunnel, nook, and cranny.

  See? Her wandering did come in handy. Not that her mother or father would agree.

  Slipping down a back hallway, she kept to the shadows. Normally, she’d have been able to use those same shadows to get her room. But this war with the Mages and the fight her mother waged with her father made things too difficult. Her father must’ve called in one of the magic clans to help with security; circumventing them proved impossible. At this rate, she’d have to lug her books outside of the Dark stronghold to get through the shadows, because she wasn’t going back to the lower caverns.

  Here the halls were paneled in ebony—really, her father needed to branch out into more color—and the stone floor switched to deep carpets of red and black. Better to hide the blood. Electric lamps with the lowest wattage were placed next to doors. The soft amber glow gave off enough light for those who didn’t have night vision to navigate, without blinding those that did. At the end of the hall near the stairs that led to the main part of the dwelling was her room.

  Hard hands grabbed Mina and yanked her into a room. She couldn’t hold back the tiny yelp of pain as her injured arm exploded with blistering agony. Her vision swirled as she fought to keep her balance, and a door shut with a thump.

  “What in the darkest hells are you doing here, Mina?” a familiar voice, rich like red wine and chocolate, hissed. “Are you insane?”

  He gave her a shake that made her arm twinge in pain, causing fresh blood to flow. The scent of it filled the room with a metallic tang.

  “Stop it, Lev,” Mina managed to get out and found her knees giving way. In her mind, her brother was overreacting. “I had something to do.”

  “Obviously, one being getting yourself killed.” He swore, dragged her to a heavy cedar trunk pushed against the wall next to his work table, and sat her on it. She sagged as black dots danced in front of her eyes. With quick movements, he tore off her sleeve and looked at her wound.

  “Damn rock worms. You’re lucky you gave them the slip. They’ve already taken down three Darks in the last month.” He flipped open a large blue plastic tackle box. Every Dark had one. It was the magical version of a first-aid kit because no human or Mage hospital would have them.

  “You’d think they’d be full by now.” She felt odd, like her feet were floating.

  “Father is furious.”

  “He should be. They’re being greedy.” Mina smiled at him. “How’d they get that kind of permission?” Is that my voice slurring like that?

  The upper cavern clans were despised by the rock worms. They relied on them to bring them game, but that didn’t always work out. It wasn’t unheard of for the upper clans to keep the fresh meat for themselves and give the lower cavern beasts unwanted leftovers, items picked out of human garbage, and sometimes road kill. The rock worms had a lot of hunger and resentment—it wasn’t surprising they munched on their tormentors.

  “Because mother has decided to make a play for the throne. She released them to the mid-level caverns, using the war with the Mages to lend an advantage.” He uncapped a brown bottle and muttered a simple Dark spell to activate it.

  “She’s always smart like that,” Mina told him as he leaned over and poured the contents of the bottle directly onto her ripped flesh. She flinched as an icy sensation traveled down her arm.

  “Hold still a bit. I’m giving you extra.” Lev spoke in a brusque tone as more of the freezing substance engulfed her arm. It wasn’t a bad sensation, really. “I wish you’d be as smart as her and never come here.”

  She ignored his last comment; he wouldn’t understand. She sighed as the room shifted under her gaze.

  “I lost a lot of blood, didn’t I?” Mina murmured. She rolled her head to look at him, feeling her mouth stretch into a smile. “You haven’t cut your hair.” Her brother’s midnight hair was longer than she remembered, curling over his collar and around his face. The shock of white he’d inherited from their murderous mother made him appear older, or it might have been the scars that ran from his temple, down his cheek, and disappeared beneath his indigo shirt. Three evenly spaced strips of flesh, the result of a clan price he paid so long ago.

  “Drink this.”

  She jerked awake to see him pressing his wrist to her mouth—four puncture holes from his nails welled with fat round orbs of blood.

  “No.” She tried to move her head, but one of his hands held it in place, his grasp firm and unyielding. She didn’t like the thickness of the fluid or the taste. Blood drinking was an intimate act, and it was wrong to take from her brother.

  “You need the power.” Lev’s voice was not unkind, but he used his most persuasive tone. He could charm birds to give him feathers and rock worms to do his bidding—an ability she didn’t inherit.

  It worked. Yuck.

  She swallowed. The hot liquid seemed to drag down her throat in thick clumps, and she wretched. She forced herself to ingest a few sips as the energy in the fluid made her tongue tingle. She needed only a bit of it to help with the magic he was conjuring to knit her arm. The substance itself wouldn’t heal her, but the magic would work in tandem with Lev’s incantations. Intrinsically, she knew this was good for her, but she didn’t have to like it.

  “Frate,” Mina murmured. “No more.”

  He pulled his wrist away and called up a spell. The low murmur of Romanian drifted through her mind, images of faraway places, bright flashes of color, the laughter of a dark-eyed woman, and the steadfast gaze of a blue-eyed boy.

  She must’ve passed out, because her next conscious moment was the jostling of her brother’s firm shake. It wasn’t unkind, o
nly filled with purpose.

  “You don’t have time to sleep.” Lev turned and poured a caramel-colored liquid into a thick cut glass from a flask he carried in his medical box.

  “How does your arm feel now?” He set the full glass next to her with a thump, nearly spilling some of its contents, indicating she’d have to drink at least some of it.

  Bending her arm, she looked down where her sleeve was ripped off; the skin was smooth, unbroken. There was still a deep ache running the length of it, but Mina knew it would go away in time.

  “Fine.” She picked up the glass and sniffed the contents. The yeasty scent told her it was the paint thinner known as whiskey. “You’ve gotten better at healing.”

  “I’ve no choice. Don’t sniff it.” He rolled his shoulders as he stretched. “Take a sip. You need a bit to clear your head.”

  Dutifully, she took a taste of the burning liquid. She despised whiskey, but her brother had healed her, so she could at least take a drink. It took away the unpleasant coppery taste of blood.

  Her eyes watered, and she blinked, her gaze drifting around his room. It was one of her favorite places. He didn’t keep his personal space monochrome like their father did. He had heavy, dark furniture he decorated with accents of vivid color. The deepest of blues were found in the bedspread and cushy chairs near the fireplace, with a spot of deep green and red for the pillows. It wasn’t pristine, but it had the relaxed, lived-in look she appreciated. The walls were hung with works of art—a Picasso, Rembrandt, and she was sure the one over the fire place was a Monet.

  “That’s new.” Mina nodded toward the painting with rich reds, greens, oranges. It reminded her of emotions. So vibrant. She put down her glass to go look at it. As she stood, she braced for dizziness.

  Good. Nothing. She went over to peer at the work of art.

  “It’s called the Waterlily Garden,” Lev told her as he finished putting away the first-aid kit. He finished her whiskey.

  “Won’t they be angry?” She turned to look at her brother. For the first time, she noticed his face appeared thinner and the skin under his eyes bruised from fatigue, probably because of her. Healing was an exhausting business. Of her two brothers, he looked the most like their father, inheriting his rougher features and tinted skin. His lips were more refined, but were now turned down into a small frown.

  “Who?” His eyes narrowed at her.

  “The people you took the painting from.”

  “It’s on loan.” He put down his empty glass. “We’re not talking about what I do. No, Suriora, you’re going to get out of here. Why in the hell did you come? Mother wants to kill you.”

  Something inside Mina fell, a tug of hurt that made her want to find a small place to curl up in, like she did as a child.

  “I thought I passed her tests.” It was a ritual for Dark parents to teach their children how to survive, but her mother had always taken it farther than most. She didn’t want to think her mother actually wanted her…well…dead.

  “Not only her, sweet sister, but our people blame you for this war with the Mages. You’re the one who created the blood tie with the Elemental and then interfered. You…” Here his voice changed. It was firm, but there was a sadness to it, a touch of a salt with the sweet. “You forced our uncle’s hand when Father had to make a choice, and he chose to protect you. You are too much like Calev. Look how it ended for him.”

  Yes. Her oldest brother, executed by their uncle, the Chairman.

  “I didn’t mean…” He’s right. Guilt settled over her shoulders as if someone dropped a heavy blanket of lead across them. She’d caused this mess. By trying to stop a war, she created one. Only the promises she made kept her from fleeing.

  “You never mean to, Mina.” He sighed, and gray hovered around him in an echo of his mood.

  “I just needed my spell books.”

  He stopped at that. His eye brows rose.

  “Your what?”

  “I just told you, my spell books.” Mina headed for the door. He was such an idiot sometimes. “I’m going to run and get them from my room, and then I’ll leave. I promise.”

  “Don’t be foolish,” Lev said as he intercepted her. She’d forgotten how fast he could move. He pressed a hand on the heavy, wooden door to prevent her from opening it. “It’s not safe to go to your room.” He shook his head. “And why would you risk your life for those?”

  “I promised.” Why wasn’t he listening? “I gave my word.”

  “Sometimes you have to break your word,” Lev told her, his voice now hard and flinty, no longer holding the strange sadness from a few minutes earlier.

  Mina looked up at him and pulled at the gray scarf which loosely circled his neck. She touched the deep runnels of scar from his face to his throat.

  “This is why I don’t break my word.” She knew those scars went all the way down to his waist. She’d seen them given, because he’d reneged on a clan oath when he tried to save their brother, Calev.

  For a moment, something truly dangerous lurked in his black eyes. He didn’t like being reminded of his perfidy.

  “You’d try a saint, Mina,” he finally bit out. “You accuse me at times of persuading a statue to move, but you can get the most cold-hearted to be your servant. Including me. Tell me,” his tone mocked, “if I give you my word to get those books, would you leave?”

  “Yes.” Mina smiled. Her brother turned away and went to his trunk she’d just sat on, throwing open the lid and rummaging around in it.

  “I may have some books here…” Things hit the floor—a folded black bag, a chisel, a large ring of keys, and a leather wrist with tools in it. Oooh, his lock-picking kit. She picked it up to touch the supple leather.

  “I need my Mage books, not the Dark spells.” Mina pulled out a long, slim rod made from some metal. Lev slammed the trunk shut, letting out a string of vicious curses in three different languages. She didn’t look at him. He’d get over it. The lemony flavor of resolve hadn’t changed, but it was tinged now with the spark of irritation.

  “You never make it easy,” he growled as he stood and glared at her. She knew because she peeked up and went back to inspecting what was in this wrist-kit. Mina wasn’t going to answer that statement. Finally after a long moment, he caved.

  “Fine. But I’ll get them from your room. You are going to get out of here.”

  She looked up at that. He reached over and plucked the lock-picking kit from her hand, replacing the small rod in it.

  “You’re better operating outside of magic and shadows. They’ll be onto you in moments if you use them outside this room. You’ll have to go through the storerooms.” He motioned for her to lift of her arm. She complied. He fastened the lock-picking kit to her wrist. “Do you remember how to you use these?”

  “But they’re your favorite…”

  “That’s not what I asked, Mina,” Lev chided, making sure the leather wasn’t too snug or loose on her slender arm. “You’ll need these to get out. The doors are locked but easy enough to get through. I’ll lay a trail so I’ll be followed and you have a chance to get out of here.” His hands dropped, and he looked at her. “Please, Surioara, I promise to get these silly books to you.”

  She nodded. “I’ve never forgotten.” He was the one that taught her to pick the locks when she’d been barred from walking the shadows as a child. Her parent’s pathetic attempt to rein her in had backfired. Lev didn’t like to see her caged.

  He turned to paw through a pile of papers on a small desk and pulled out a folded map. “You’re going to need it to get to the storerooms from here.”

  “I don’t need a map,” she told him primly, admiring her lock-pick cuff. It suited her.

  “Then show me how to get there,” Lev demanded.

  Looking up, Mina saw it was map of the side tunnels, the ones rarely used by the Darks anymore. “Oh, now, that’s a new tunnel.” She pointed to one. “It starts under your room.” She looked up at him. “You’ve been busy.”
>
  “Mina, in my line of work, if there isn’t a way out, you create one.”

  She took the map from him as he moved to kneel under his worktable. He pressed a hidden mechanism, and a door silently slid open.

  “Oooh, I like this.” Mina couldn’t help the thrill of it. Sure, she was being hunted by her own kind; Mages hated her. But who couldn’t resist nifty secret places?

  “Go.” He pointed to the opening. She peered down, and the floor of it was not far. Mina leaned over and gave her brother a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “Thank you.” She smiled and jumped down. Before he could shut the opening, she called up to him.

  “Lev, bring the books to Nicki, my roommate.” She gave him the address.

  “The Mage?” He didn’t exactly spit the words, but they came out as if he’d tasted something sour.

  “My friend.”

  She refrained from telling Lev when he cursed again that it was technically impossible to do that particular act.

  “Be nice to her,” Mina told her brother as she started down the small tunnel. He said nothing, but the opening closed behind her, and the little bit of light was gone.

  He never did promise to be nice.

  The storerooms weren’t hard to find, but she didn’t dawdle to check out the temptation of the other tunnels. Now that her brother was no longer with her, the sense of protection she felt was gone. Behind her, she heard a faint rustling sound.

  Time to get out of here.

  The door was like any other and unlocked. Inside, the room was kept dry and cool, close to freezing. There were burlap sacks of fresh apples and boxes of produce. Another scrape, this one louder. and even though she shut and locked the door, Mina knew it wouldn’t take long for whatever it was to get through.

  She slipped through the organized chaos that was the kitchen storeroom and made it to the outside door. Of course this one was locked. A soft thump of a footfall behind her. No time to look. She operated under the assumption if you looked and acknowledged something was there, it became real. If you didn’t, reality was optional.