Welcome Home (Alternate Worlds Book 3)

by Leigh, Taylor

  If he was still alive. He had to be. She’d know, wouldn’t she?

  Noel seemed about to reply, but his mouth shut again. For a moment he seemed to collect himself. ‘Oh, no. We’re not done talking about you. Tell me what makes you so special, girl.’ An indecipherable whisper drifted through the air.

  Sam shook her head quickly, not at all liking his attention. ‘Special? Nothing is special about me, mate.’

  He swaggered her way with a little more confidence, taking the steps two at a time. ‘Oh,’ his tone dropped to a lower, visceral purr. ‘I wouldn’t say that. I’d say you’re very special.’

  Sam glowered, held her ground, but her insides were churning. ‘Why d’you keep saying that?’

  That shark-like grin was back. Something alarmingly confident had shifted in him. ‘Oh, it radiates off you. As I said, no-one just finds themselves here. You may lie about your innocence; about you and the Traveller’s reason to be here. But I know. I know you lie. It whispers the truth.’

  Around her, everything had seemed to have gone a shade darker. The black crept down; the way it curved in around them. Did Noel feel it too? He gave no sign.

  She wondered how long a person would have to be saturated in it before that stuff lost its effect on you.

  ‘W—what sort of whisper? We’re not here for any reason!’ she stammered. ‘Why would it know anything about me?’

  Noel was still moving. ‘Oh, it knows a lot about you.’

  The dark was following Noel’s movements, no longer part of the background, but some living thing, just as confident as the creature grinning at her now.

  ‘Yeah? How’s that?’

  ‘Because it knows everything,’ Noel purred. ‘And I’ve been listening to it for thousands and thousands of years. And it speaks and obsesses; constantly obsesses. I’ve heard names, names floating in the dark, in my dreams. Names I did not understand. Now I do.

  ‘The Traveller. And who else could you be, but his bright little companion?’ He dropped to the foot of the stairs. ‘You come here after my father’s greatest creation. You always do, don’t you? No matter your plans, it’s too late for him. You have failed by even coming here. You think yourself clever for sending him off without my notice? No. Solvareta will finish him.’

  Sam could sense rather than see the coiling of his muscles beneath his shirt. He was readying himself. What he wanted with her, she could not begin to guess.

  ‘Being able to lie to a dragon? I am impressed. But no matter. After all these years of waiting,’ Noel’s eyes were practically blazing now, with a real, mad fire. ‘You’ve fallen right into my arms. Since you know how to operate Solvareta, you will open the Realm—though I am afraid your Traveller is long dead. You will then free my father and then we will begin!’

  ‘I can’t open it!’ she shrieked, angry and frightened.

  He was starting to change. The blackness had begun dripping over him like syrup, peeling back the handsome façade to a more bestial form. ‘I knew I just had to be patient. But who knew my help would come as such a delicious looking girl.’ His wings broke free from his back, flapping enormously wide, seeming to crush him if not for the Darkness holding him aloft.

  With a cry Sam went staggering backwards, unable to take her eyes from him. It was so unnatural and terrible yet fascinating she couldn’t look away. All she knew was that thing could not get his hands on her. Whatever he was babbling about, whatever he wanted her for, it was not going to end well.

  Sam tripped against the stairs and fell on her rear, hard. Below her Noel snarled and lurched forward, claws tearing up the narrow pathway. She scrabbled to her feet, unwilling to look back, and made it to the entrance.

  Her feet slipped against the slick floor as she grabbed at both of the uncooperative doors. They crashed together and she threw all of her weight against them, knowing all too well that it was completely hopeless against the monster on the other side.

  She cast a look down the hall. If only she could see Tollin now.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Tollin watched several disgruntled teenagers—who were clearly spoiling for a fight—jog by before he slipped from his spot at the top of the wall. He dropped into an easy stance and went trotting away from the palace.

  He was burning with curiosity to see the time room Victoria had mentioned. What an intriguing idea! He didn’t see how it was possible. An actual device—or a place, even—that could bridge to anywhere, anytime?

  A rumbling growl from somewhere sent his spine tingling. The scent of the dragon was heady. Not good. He hated to leave Victoria all alone in the palace with all the madness, but she could hold her own.

  He shook his head. He couldn’t be everywhere at once. Then again, perhaps he could be everywhere at once. The idea made his head spin. Where he was needed was at that curious device. Where his future self was trapped. If some time device existed and the Myrmidons were obsessed with Daemons, he could only begin to think of the trouble it would cause: Daemons with access to every Realm, and every tiny bit of time in each Realm? What a problem that would be.

  Tollin pressed onwards.

  A familiar blond head caught his eye and Tollin went darting after it. It was easy to catch up with Andrew. As he approached, something buzzed about the edges of his awareness. Andrew was pulsing with an energy he had not carried before. It cloaked him, crumpling the air around him. There was something exciting in that. And unnerving.

  ‘Wotcher!’

  The man stopped dead. ‘What are you doing here?’ he hissed, voice strained, appalled.

  Tollin pulled his lips down. ‘Oi! That’s no way to say hello to an old friend.’ That pulling sense in the air was all the stronger now. It drew his eyes to a bundle clasped in Andrew’s arms. It was a struggle to not reach for it.

  Andrew rolled his eyes irritably and resumed his walk. Tollin kept after him. O’Neill clearly had a destination in mind and though Tollin was keen on his own mission, seeing what Andrew was up to was also fairly intriguing.

  ‘So, where are you off to?’ He skipped around a pile of camel dung. ‘Genius Andrew O’Neill off with his big plan to sort all this mess out? Or should I say the Traveller.’

  Andrew puffed his breath. ‘Oh, do shut up. I wish it had been you in this mess. It would be much easier on the rest of us. Victoria wouldn’t be in the state she is now if you’d just have—’

  He stopped suddenly as the sleek black form of a dragon went streaking overhead. Tollin scowled. ‘Well, wouldn’t have expected to see that!’

  Andrew cast him a bland look. ‘Your brother, you mean? Yes. He did take some convincing. He and that witch are supposedly going to help me take that beastie out.’

  Tollin tilted his head. ‘You mean Noel.’

  Andrew nodded. In a clipped, irritated tone he filled Tollin in on what Victoria had not. ‘I’m off to the Myrmidons now.’

  Tollin’s eyes shifted once again to the tightly clasped bundle. ‘Ah, yes. And what exactly are you bringing for them?’ He plucked at a corner of the cloth and it came free. The glint of red—like a massive ruby, caught the light.

  Andrew pulled it back protectively. ‘Any incentive I present to them will last only as long as it needs to! I certainly do not intend to aid them in this madness. Yet I want to understand this technology, and I have a feeling I will not be well accepted if I do not bring them something of interest. It need last only as long as Noel, then Reginald will attack and we’ll have won.’

  Tollin raised his eyebrows. ‘Rather ambiguous plan for someone like you.’

  Andrew was clearly unsettled by that. ‘Yes. I know. But we’re running a little short on options, aren’t we? Not like the battle with the Blaiden was any less uncertain. But they’ve got a dragon and we’re out of time.’

  Tollin grunted. ‘Well, best of luck to you. If the Myrmidons are so keen on this device then I had better be there to ensure they’re not running their grubby hands all over it.’

  Andrew nod
ded. ‘I’d appreciate that.’

  Tollin grinned at him. ‘Really? Well, I do suppose I could help you just this once.’ He flashed a wider smile. ‘Righto. I’ll see you by the end of this. Best of luck.’

  Andrew dipped his head. ‘Same to you.’

  Tollin sketched Andrew a wave before leaving him to go on his way. He was honestly glad he wasn’t in his shoes—though Andrew was in his—those Myrmidons sounded rather unhinged.

  He wrinkled his nose and struck off for the edge of the city. He had plenty of ground to cover and not a lot of time. His heart picked up a few beats. Well, this evening certainly was going to be fun.

  * * * * *

  Andrew watched Tollin go jogging down the alley.

  Now he was alone.

  Pulling his attention from the bundle in his arms and squaring his shoulders, he started off down the steep road, every instinct in him fighting against the motion. To head towards what he was fairly certain was his doom was nowhere in his nature. It made no sense to do what he was about to do.

  In some pretence of protection, he pulled his hood closer about, throwing his features into shadow.

  The streets were abandoned. Rubble was smoking; buildings collapsed. Unfortunate for anyone left inside. Behind him, the front gates of the palace were swarmed with citizens, all begging for something to be done—for the destruction to stop, for his head. He would have to be careful. Getting caught by such a mob before he reached his destination would not end well.

  Pace slowed more by reluctance than caution, Andrew at last arrived at the edge of the city. He stuck to the shadows, eyes routinely flicking up to the top of the wall. A few of the Myrmidon soldiers—no doubt highly paid mercenaries—were prowling, looking for any escapees, crossbows brandished. If he approached the gates to turn himself in, he would be spotted straight away. It was too much to hope they would not shoot first.

  The stone weighed heavily in the crook of his arm. He couldn’t believe the fuss over the thing; yet as much as he wanted to tell himself it was nothing more than a rock, he couldn’t ignore the peculiar energy it seemed to pulse with. It had given him a curious thought: Would it be at all possible to harness that power? Draw it…into him?

  Perhaps that was what the Myrmidons intended to do all along.

  He felt a slight shiver of something disturbingly akin to anticipation. There was something satisfying to know that he, of all people, was the only one capable of helping them achieve their goals. Andrew had always known he was exceptional, but the recent events, the things he’d seen…it was all too fantastic. It was exciting, a bit overwhelming, and not to mention unbelievable. Being faced with the unknown in such an extreme way…why, it was what philosophers on his world had argued about for centuries!

  His gaze left the top of the wall and drifted to ahead of him. The gates were barricaded with all sorts of debris that the beast had dropped. A great stone—which looked it could only be moved by Noel or a large team—was pushed to one side, giving Andrew an obstructed view of the desert beyond. Before he could reach that, however, he had to pass through the mercenary camp. Ramses certainly had deep pockets to ensure that his lot were safe whenever they decided to enter the city.

  He slipped forward, keeping to the shadows, eyes darting in search of trouble. He wasn’t entirely sure what he’d do if Ramses wasn’t here. Being stuck with those paid ruffians wasn’t a particularly pleasant thought.

  He stopped just outside the ring of light encircling the camp and took stock: Armed guards, a few street urchins heckling and following them about…several whores, and there at the back was the great red tent. That was where he’d be.

  One of the young boys tailing after a soldier was talking loudly, enough to prick Andrew’s ears up.

  ‘So, you say that whoever brings you that Traveller bloke alive gets a reward, yeah?’

  The soldier sighed irritably. ‘Yes.’

  ‘How big of a reward?’ The boy hurried to keep up.

  The soldier huffed his breath. ‘More than you’ll ever see in your lifetime.’

  ‘Yeah? I’ll get him, then.’

  The mercenary rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, right. Get lost, kid.’

  With that, the boy was shoved out of the soldier’s way, and, with an irritated look towards him, trotted out of the camp and into the night. Andrew watched him go and smiled to himself. That was his way in.

  Andrew slipped round the perimeter of the camp, tracking the boy’s path and picked up his pace, ignoring the increasing pressure at the base of his skull. He broke for the road that the boy had taken and quickened to outdistance him.

  The boy was keeping a rather leisurely pace, picking up rocks, peering into demolished buildings, fighting with invisible enemies. In all honesty, didn’t seem to be taking his goal to capture Andrew very seriously and Andrew felt a slight irritation at the fact. Really, must he make things easy for everyone?

  He stepped out from the cover of the dark just as the boy neared. His appearance took the lad a step backwards, yet then he bristled. Being a creature of the streets, he was no doubt all too familiar with dangerous forms stepping out of the shadows.

  ‘Oi!’ the lad cried challengingly. ‘Back up, long shanks!’ His hands balled into fists.

  Andrew raised a brow. ‘I do believe you are looking for me.’

  The boy, intrigued, straightened and dropped his fists to his sides. ‘Is that so? And what makes you think that?’

  ‘You are looking for the Traveller, are you not?’

  A cunning gleam came to the urchin’s eyes. ‘Yeah? And why would I believe that you’re him? Huh?’

  Andrew raised his eyes to the dark sky. ‘Because what person in their right mind who wasn’t the Traveller would turn himself in? There has been too much violence. I’m here to stop it.’

  The boy seemed to debate the logic of this for a while. Too long for Andrew’s patience. ‘Yeah,’ he said at last, ‘I suppose that makes sense.’

  Andrew gave him a longsuffering smile. ‘Yes, wonderful, good job there! Now, will you take me to whomever is in charge?’

  The boy deliberated. ‘What’s in the rag?’ He reached for the stone.

  Andrew pulled his arm away. ‘None or your concern, now are you interested or not?’

  The reward clearly weighed heavily in his brain. ‘You’ll come along real quiet like? No struggle?’

  Andrew tried to look as nonthreatening as possible. ‘I swear.’

  The boy frowned. ‘That don’t seem very convincing. How’s anyone gonna believe I just caught you on me own, yeah?’

  Andrew sighed irritably. ‘And how is anyone going to be convinced that you managed to give me a black eye and a bloody nose? No. We go as I am and you can either take this offer or leave it and I’ll walk in there on my own.’

  The boy held up his hands. ‘No, no! I’ll take you!’ He flashed Andrew a broken-toothed grin. ‘No trouble, mate.’

  Andrew lifted his eyebrows in dark amusement. ‘Then lead on.’

  His young captor spun with an air of superiority and led him back down the road. Andrew followed, feet dragging reluctantly. He would have to put on a good show for Ramses. He just wished he could ignore the pounding in his head.

  The boy pranced on ahead of him, shouting insults to the few other boys milling about outside the camp. As they neared, the smell of smoke belching from iron bins bothered his lungs. The whole area glowed red, the fire reflecting off of the crimson rocks.

  The few curious eyes that followed them showed no challenge, but as they neared the tent, it wasn’t long before they were stopped by a swaggering soldier.

  ‘Whoa, where do you think you’re going, little man?’ He had a very hoarse voice.

  Andrew’s captor looked up defiantly. ‘I’m bringing in the Traveller. Here to collect me reward!’

  The soldier let out a disbelieving laugh. ‘Well, doesn’t that just beat all?’ He looked up to Andrew and gave him a onceover. ‘And how exactly did you come by thi
s elusive ghost?’

  The boy straightened. ‘I was clever! And I caught him fair and square.’

  The soldier gave him a dubious look.

  Andrew rolled his eyes and shifted his attention to the mercenary. ‘Yes, well, it is really me so can we just accept that and get on with this? Please?’

  The man leered at him. ‘Oh? In a hurry, are we?’

  Andrew clenched his teeth. ‘Yes! Actually.’

  The soldier gave both of them a disdainful look and then nodded his head. ‘All right, sweet cheeks, let’s go.’

  He started off down the rubble-strewn path and Andrew and his young captor followed close behind.

  Andrew took a breath to collect himself. With it came a spear of pain stabbing through his head and he stumbled, hissing his breath. It caused both man and boy to pause and stare.

  Andrew shot them both a glower. Oh, the pain…the pain in his head was pushing deeper into his brain, like a knife, working through the tissue till it would eventually hit his frontal lobe and burst through his skull.

  They arrived to the tent and the soldier ducked inside. ‘Got another one claiming they’ve got the Traveller.’

  There was some commotion from inside. Andrew kept his expression in check, doing his best to ignore the worsening pain in his head. Just in time, too, for the flap was thrown wide again and the soldier and—ah, yes—Ramses, emerged.

  Ramses offered a broad smile. ‘Ahh! Andrew O’Neill! The Traveller, at last…’

  Andrew inclined his head in greeting. ‘Ramses, you’ve certainly…come a long way since last we spoke.’

  Ramses still grinned, his eyes shining brightly from behind his kohl. ‘Yes! Welcome! So pleased you’ve decided to join us.’

  ‘I figured it was high time I paid you a visit.’

  The boy shoved his way forward. ‘Hey, what about me reward, aye?’

  Ramses looked at the interruption through hooded eyes and then sighed. ‘Fine, fine.’ He untied a pouch from his belt and tossed it to the boy. From within came the promising clinking of metal which was confirmed when the boy dug into the bag and bit one of the pieces.