Welcome Home (Alternate Worlds Book 3)

by Leigh, Taylor

  Once there, he went dashing about, kicking crystals, tilting them, refracting the energy till the light shot down through the dark to his island. To his relief, the small island was beginning to spin slightly with new life.

  It wasn’t enough. Tollin could tell just by looking at it. The crystals wouldn’t have the power. He’d always known that, deep down. The amount of energy it would require to transport a living creature from one Realm to another would have to be enormous—the power of the sun—enormous and without connection from the other side he had no faith it would work, not even to send a signal…Even now, he could see the light inside of the crystals ebb as the time device began to drain it.

  ‘No! No! No! No!’

  Above, darkness was slowly starting to leak downwards. The light was going out.

  ‘Come on!’ Tollin kicked a rock. Still the light dimmed. He would be in the darkness soon. The hot, pressing dark. And he had no idea what would happen then.

  Tollin closed his eyes and let out a breath. He spoke to the peace in his mind. ‘I need you. I need you now. I need some light, please. I don’t care how hard it is, I don’t care how far it is, but I need you.’

  He opened his eyes. Nothing about his situation had changed. If anything, it had grown darker. That silent sound, like falling snow, grew nearer.

  ‘Please,’ Tollin whispered.

  There was a clattering sound and he whirled to see Craven land, long and bristling.

  Tollin’s spine tightened. Craven had been caught in the dark; Tollin didn’t know what that meant, but it couldn’t be good. The creature was monstrous enough without whatever had snared him.

  ‘I knew you’d be here,’ the creature growled. ‘Always running to the only light there is. People always do. Like moths to flame.’

  Tollin didn’t move. It was impossible to know what would set Craven off.

  ‘No matter,’ Craven rumbled, ‘there’s nowhere left to run.’ He looked up. ‘Beautiful, isn’t it? I could not be more proud of what it’s become.’

  Tollin cast a quick glance to the great crystal, knowing what he’d see: the light almost gone. It was true. The glass shard was nearly dull. Save for one tiny, glimmering spark at its very core. Yet it was this slight glimmer that caught his attention. Tollin frowned at it, forgetting about Craven. This light was gold, sparkling like glittery dust.

  ‘The light’s almost gone,’ Craven crooned.

  The blue crystal let out a little hum, so quiet he almost missed it. The golden glow flickered softly; weak, but there.

  Help me.

  Tollin turned to Craven and knew then what he had to do. ‘I’m afraid not!’ He lunged forward and smacked his hand against the glassy surface.

  There was an explosion of gold and Tollin and Craven both went reeling as the crystal flared light every direction. It was enough to send the dark shadows above recoiling back into the void, hissing in rage.

  Tollin cried against the burning in his insides; the shocking wave of heat from the stone made him stagger, shielding his eyes. It was roaring with power now. Power that had come from nowhere.

  His eyes finally began to adjust and he had to force himself to look at his work, at the cables, at the device below him. Everything was glowing and vibrating with brilliant gold. Craven was scrabbling away, screaming.

  It was working, it was actually working!

  Working perhaps too well. The crystal let out a high-pitched shriek, and Tollin warily watched as a great crack went splitting across its surface. Blades of light broke through to shoot in all directions and Tollin had to drop to his belly as a thick bar of solid energy hit one of the carved crystals behind him. Everywhere the fingers of light stabbed, lighting up each one of his broken friends with living, shining gold. His eyes rose to the fallen statue before him that was lit like a yellow faerie now. It was the one he’d carved of Samantha Turner. The one he’d never finished, thanks to Craven.

  Below him, Tollin could see sparks and branches of electrical spikes, snapping and popping angrily. Along with it came an increasingly steady hum. It was activating.

  Tollin had no idea how long of an opening he’d have. And he really had no idea what would happen if he took it. Where would that device send him? When? Or would it just kill him? If Sam wasn’t working on her side to find his signal…Either way, he was going to have to be quick.

  He scrabbled forward on elbows, dragging his body across the rough stone, ducking as electricity and beams of light shot about him. One hand hooked over the lip of the pit and he hauled himself forward to look down into the dangerous glow. He was going to have to jump.

  Tollin pushed himself to his feet, ducking his head to the side to avoid another blast of light. Once steady, he glanced back to the creature huddled in the corner.

  ‘Sorry, mate.’ He turned to jump.

  Craven let out a sudden roar and launched forward, knocking him to the ground. Tollin grunted as his head cracked against the stone and he lost his knife. Ouch! That hurt.

  Tucking his knees to his chest he managed a kick to the creature’s jaw. He pushed himself to his feet, ducking as another spike of energy shot overhead.

  ‘We can work this out, just calm down.’ His voice didn’t sound nearly as soothing as he’d intended.

  Craven swept one long arm out, claws hooking for Tollin’s skull. He dodged just in time.

  From below came a louder humming. How much time would he have before the portal opened? And how much time would he have once it did? Would it be stable enough to stay open or would he only have a blink of time to jump through?

  Too much to worry about now. And yet still the most important thing: Letting Craven tag along was not an option.

  Craven straightened, body expanding outwards in broken, knobby branches of arms and legs. ‘You cannot be allowed to leave,’ he snarled.

  Tollin backpeddled, ducking past dangerous whipping lights. His weapon was nowhere to be seen. Must have fallen into space. Every now and then, caught in the flashes of the crystal, Tollin could have sworn he saw the face of a woman looking back at him. His Guide. She was with him now, after all these years, she’d found a way and she was with him.

  Suddenly he felt confident. He was once again sure of himself, he was no longer alone. She had come back to him now, of all times.

  ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘and why would that be? Why can’t I leave?’ he felt his arm sting with distant pain as a bolt of energy ripped past him.

  ‘It has been waiting to feed…haven’t you felt it?’

  Craven’s body gave an alarming snap! He shook his head from side to side and Tollin watched in disgust as something black leaked out the corner of his mouth. The stuff fouling this Realm…but he didn’t have time to remember, his memory was blocking him. He didn’t like that. He always remembered.

  The creature let out an alarming roar Tollin hadn’t known him capable of.

  Around him, light was blazing; every crystal bouncing light round the perimeter, making it a criss-crossing web of energy, deadly to the touch.

  Perhaps he wouldn’t have to kill Craven if he could trick him into one of those bolts.

  There was a loud crack! above and Tollin’s head snapped back just in time to see the top half of the island ripped away by crushing tentacles. He staggered backwards. All he could see beyond was blackness.

  The scream from the rocks was going to make his head explode.

  ‘You have to stall him. The machine doesn’t have enough power She’s almost got a lock on you. You need to give her more time!’

  He wasn’t sure if the thought was his own or his Guide’s but Tollin knew it was right. Sam hadn’t had time. Somehow he had to survive that long.

  The island shook again, breaking apart—or being torn apart—by whatever was above. Tollin lost his footing and went tumbling, losing sight of Craven for the briefest of seconds. It was enough. In a sudden tumult of limbs Craven took him from behind; grasping Tollin’s hair and slamming his head against the rock. T
ollin’s vision flashed with white pain.

  ‘Craven!’ he growled between clenched teeth. ‘I am warning you, get off! I don’t want to hurt you, but if you do not stop this right now, I will have to!’ His fingers dug into the creature’s hot sides behind him.

  He was answered by a bony fist smashing into his nose.

  ‘All right,’ he snarled, tensing his body, ‘you’ve asked for this!’

  Tollin smashed his elbow backwards, striking Craven in the jaw. The impact gave a rather satisfying crunching sound but Tollin didn’t have time to seize the opportunity before he was set on by claws and fangs. He doubled under the onslaught and let out an aggravated roar.

  Struggling under the weight of the attack he fell backwards, smashing Craven against the ground, causing his grip to slacken. Tollin jumped at his chance. He lurched forward, peeling out of Craven’s grasp and to his feet. The island was still tipping wildly.

  He spun on his heel and smashed Craven in the mouth just as he began to recover. He hit rather hard, he’d thought, but as Craven’s head snapped back round to face him, Tollin realised all he’d done was anger him.

  And mad he was.

  Craven let out a choked snarl of rage and his body jerked and bubbled; Tollin watched something beneath his skin move. Craven was changing again. His back becoming more curved, elongated. His skin stretched along his neck, until it popped, large spines breaking through. From behind his shoulders a massive pair of black wings ripped free.

  Tollin let out a shout of surprise and tripped over his own feet in his hurry put distance between the monster and himself. What was he? Dragon? Daemon? Some new species that Tollin was as of yet unfamiliar with? And why had Craven kept it hidden so long? He’d been here seventy bloody years! How could he not have sensed something?

  It was a disconcerting question to say the least.

  He rolled out of the way as a razor of light went tearing past him. Craven was too big now, too ungainly; not as agile. The creature let out another terrible roar and went tearing after him, sweeping crystals out of the way like splinters. Beams of light sliced through his grey skin, splitting it open. Black smoke burst from the wounds.

  Tollin scrambled madly and dove round the revolving crystal, casting a look down to the island below. It was glowing with such a harsh light he was blinded by it. Was it not time yet? Sam, come on!

  Craven struck forward, body coiling like a snake and Tollin tripped: straight into the path of a beam of light. Immediately it tore through him with burning fire and he staggered, gasping, caught, unable to break free; he might as well have been trapped in electricity. His body jerked. Pain ripped through him, alighting all his cells on fire. His mind glowed; all Tollin could see was light: clear light shredding all else away. Was this death? He heard himself scream.

  Craven was charging towards him like an angry bull. Tollin could hear him, just barely, through the hot fire in his mind.

  ‘You filthy little half-breed! Always spoiling our plans and getting in the way. You have been a problem to me and my kind for far too long! Shame to my children! Betraying me! Polluting my creation! You always stopping our progress, but too blind to see what’s right in front of your nose!’ He swept out a great hand and knocked one of the crystals—Marus—aside. ‘It’s time you were put out of your misery!’

  Tollin was filling with the glow, shooting out of every hair and fingertip and cell. He shone like those crystals around him, a conduit of power, growing brighter and stronger by each second, glowing from the inside out.

  ‘Concentrate…’

  Tollin focused on the voice, the only thing cutting through the blaze in his head. It was a struggle; fighting his divided attention to think on the core of energy which was bursting out of him. And in it, he could feel Sam! The first time in seventy years and he felt her connection.

  ‘Focus!’

  Tollin looked to Craven and, letting out a scream of pain, threw his hands forward towards the creature. The light ripped through and erupted out his fingertips to hit Craven full in the chest; the great monster went staggering back with a tremendous roar.

  Tollin’s vision began to clear and he could see Craven, body ripped wide open, a gaping hole in his chest, black fog boiling out. Tollin pushed the hulking creature backwards. All the crystals about him were screaming and popping, and light exploded everywhere in a great golden wave.

  Tollin hit the ground hard, completely spent, his head cracking against sharp stone. He looked up. He’d fallen at the base of Sam’s statue, which was splitting and shaking. The whole island was now, breaking itself apart.

  His art continued to brighten, the humming noise from within becoming so deafening it made Tollin’s ears bleed. There was a loud explosion from below and Tollin rolled to his stomach to peer down. There it was! A portal! A spiralling, glowing portal! It was working! Actually working! Sam had done it!

  He didn’t know how much time he had, it could already be past the point but he didn’t have a choice. He pushed himself to his feet, slipping wildly as the island began to tilt alarmingly. Frantically, he grabbed hold of a crystal as the slope turned to a vertical angle. Shards of glowing crystals went sliding past him.

  Below him there was another terrible roar. Tollin looked down as he scrabbled up the wall, grasping for handholds as Craven’s jaws swung wide. An orange glow of fire flamed beneath him, licking upwards. Groaning he managed to haul himself up on one of his crystals just as flames went blasting after him, lapping at the walls. As it died away, he bunched his muscles and sprang upwards, towards the lip of the wall—which was once the floor—where the golden glow was swelling.

  ‘No!’ Craven bellowed beneath him, another flare of fire chasing up.

  Tollin caught hold of the top of the wall and struggled his way up, kicking his feet. At the bottom of the pit he could see the broken form of Craven: great wings smashed, lanky, whip-like body twisted and crushed, pinned like a dead moth by shards of crystal. Thick prodding tentacles were sliding over the edges of the pit.

  Tollin stood up and wobbled on the narrow ledge, ducking his head out of the way of the large, now horizontal, rotating crystal. There was the great portal. His heart thudded. Now or never.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Tollin said, looking to the huddled beast. Craven was roaring in agony and rage, claws raking at the walls. Tollin wasn’t even sure if he heard him or not. ‘I’m sorry it had to end this way.’

  And then, with that, he dove from the edge, pushing off through empty space, his stomach lurching with him.

  And he was swallowed by the golden glow.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The sky was a reddish glow as the sun began to rise on the horizon. Victoria’s entire body felt limp, her muscles shaky and stretched to the breaking point. She had been under the assumption that after all the adventures she’d had over the last year she would be used to such exertion. But as tired as she was, it was nothing compared to Andrew.

  He was exhausted, drained; perhaps lifeless would have been a more appropriate word. His normally pale and sunken countenance was all the more startling. He was like one dead. And when she looked at him, she could have sworn there was something haunted in his gaze now. Whatever he’d seen—whatever he’d done—it had stayed with him, touched him in a way few other things did. It had, Victoria told herself, been because his beliefs had been shaken so severely. Everything logical he had trusted and believed in had, in the end, betrayed him. And it had scarred him deeply. He would not speak of it.

  Victoria tried to keep her manner upbeat and cheerful, but he was unaffected, indifferent. He stood beside her like one of his ghosts, no longer really part of the world. Surely, Andrew would wake up from it with time. His mind was strong, reason was his passion; he couldn’t stay captive to dreams for long.

  She tried to ignore her worry for him by keeping herself distracted with all that was happening in the aftermath of the battle. Her head was spinning from trying to process the events. Her experience o
n Scottorr had been exciting and frightening, yet there had been nothing of a supernatural nature to it. There had been no ghosts or shape-shifting men or Daemons—at least none she’d been aware of. This completely overwhelmed her.

  Marus and Arkron did not seem bothered in the slightest. Madness of this sort could have been their normal, for how they behaved.

  Marus shook his head. ‘I still don’t understand how Noel knew to come here in the first place. If there was something here calling dragons to this planet, I would have sensed it. I would have been drawn too, but there’s nothing here!’

  Arkron’s expression grew clouded. ‘This world is dark and old. There are forces that call to more than just dragons. Evils that run deeper. Whatever brought that beast here was something stronger and older than I believe you could ever sense.’

  Marus ran a hand through his hair and swore.

  Victoria could not fight the mounting fear that filled her at those words, but she did not have a chance to fret over them, for Andrew finally stirred, frowning at the growing light. She took his arm.

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  He turned hollow, sunken eyes to her, but did not answer.

  Victoria sighed and looped her arm through his, guiding him to the table, still filled by a half-eaten meal. Andrew obediently sat on the cushion but made no move to take the food before him. She pushed a plate of bread and olives his way and gave him a meaningful look.

  It drew from him a long-suffering breath, but at least he was responding to something. He tore off a piece of bread and, instead of putting it to his mouth, went to lining up the crumbs.

  Victoria debated with herself for a moment about attempting to drag any conversation out of him, but judging by his expression, she didn’t think she’d have much luck. He clearly wasn’t coming out of his shell any time soon.

  Loud footsteps squeaked down the hall and Victoria and the others—besides Andrew—turned to see Tollin slide into the room. He was a bit dirty, but looked his usual exuberant self.

  Arkron and Marus started towards him, both clearly with things on their minds. Even when missing for most of the action Tollin always seemed to be the one with the answers. She would have jumped up and followed, if not for Andrew. And for the surprising fact that Tollin was headed her way already. He sat down on the floor next to her and reached across the table to pluck a few figs out of a bowl.