Passages (Alternate Worlds Book 1)

by Taylor Leigh

  * * * * *

  The noise was enough to drive Thedric mad. The howling and crashing seemed to be the Blaiden’s signature war cry and it did wonders for wearing down nerves. Unfortunately, as stressful as the situation was for Thedric, for Andrew it was completely unbearable. He had started out well enough, but as the stress of their situation—the constant running, hiding and fighting—continued, his stable mental state started to deteriorate. Now, after half an hour of it, Andrew was dangerously close to turning completely catatonic, and it was hardly a good time.

  They were trapped in a narrow hallway, blocked off at both ends that would, hopefully, if only temporarily, keep the Blaiden out. Thedric cast about, trying to think up some way out of their tight situation, while Andrew, completely useless, rocked back and forth on the floor, hands over his ears, muttering formulas incessantly.

  ‘We need a way out of this!’ Thedric shouted. He dropped down next to his brother and pried Andrew’s hands off of his ears. ‘Are you listening to me?’

  Andrew let out a moan and tilted his head to one side shakily, avoiding or unable to meet his brother’s gaze. His chanting grew louder, directing his eyes to the ceiling, beating his head against the wall. Thedric wanted to slap him but knew that would probably only worsen the situation.

  ‘Come on! Snap out of it! I need you to think!’

  A loud crash came at the door at the far end. Andrew jerked out of Thedric’s grasp, hands flapping. ‘I can’t think! I can’t! I don’t know, I don’t know! I—I—’

  Thedric slammed Andrew up against the wall, fear and anger welling up in him. ‘You will think, or so help me I’ll murder you right now!’

  His brother stared at him, wide-eyed, hands curled up to his face, breath coming fast and shallow.

  It wasn’t that Andrew was scared. If anything, he had seemed to almost be enjoying the excitement of their predicament. It was simply that he couldn’t handle the situation as well as he wanted to, which Thedric found more infuriating than if his brother was actually terrified.

  Andrew started to hum, as if trying to block out the noise of the Blaiden breaking in. Thedric noticed with growing dread that Andrew was starting to tremble. Andrew seemed to realise it as well; he winced miserably. ‘Get out of here, Thed,’ he stammered. He pulled his mind back enough to give his brother this order before visibly beginning to lose control over his motor functions.

  ‘Like hell I am!’ Thedric snapped, though he had to admit, it was almost tempting.

  Andrew fell forward, catching himself on hands and knees, shaking uncontrollably.

  The doors at the end of the hall jumped wildly on their hinges.

  ‘Andrew! Anything you can think of! Now is the time!’ Thedric backed up nervously against the wall.

  ‘Dragon!’ Andrew stuttered through clenched teeth. ‘Dragon!’ He repeated the word, stuck on it. Thedric swore. Andrew hadn’t had a fit this bad since he was seven. Andrew would sometimes get stuck on words or phrases that didn’t make sense, but it had been years since Thedric could remember seeing him like this. Andrew always locked himself away. It scared him.

  Still, he shouted the word. His brother’s blue eyes locked with his, then rolled up in his head, his mouth frothing. Andrew’s arms gave out and he collapsed to the floor, no longer shaking, not moving at all.

  Thedric swallowed. Dragon? Where the hell had that come from? He hadn’t said the word, which was usually what brought on Andrew’s copying…his eyes scanned the hallway, momentarily ignoring the impending entrance of the Blaiden. His eyes fell on it then: an old, tattered tapestry of a green dragon. He dashed towards it and pulled it to the side. It slid easily on the rod it hung on. Behind it, completely hidden, was a small carved space.

  ‘Brilliant!’ Thedric shouted as the doors crunched again.

  Thedric started for the gap and turned back to his unconscious brother. With a sigh he raced back, picked his brother up, and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Then he shoved his brother in the tunnel and he slid in after, pulling the tapestry back in place. He sat still in the dark, struggling to keep his breathing as quiet as possible.

  The Blaiden broke through. He shut his eyes as he listened to them run by on their heavy bare feet. They were tipping over furniture and snarling in rage, but they passed by their hiding place without pause. Thedric leant his head back against the stone wall and silently thanked his brother. Andrew just might have saved their lives.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Victoria could feel the sweat coming from the mare’s sides soaking through her skirts. Though it was cold, the animal was still drenched from exertion. The snowy sleet had temporarily stopped and red light from Scrabia lit their way. That and the golden lights that for ever hung in the sky. Dawn would be approaching soon and she didn’t know what that would bring with it. Would light help or harm Andrew’s chances? Would it even matter?

  She was so wrapped up in her thoughts, she almost didn’t see the man standing in the middle of the trail ahead of them. For a wild moment, Victoria didn’t want to stop. She wanted Tollin to just ride straight over him and keep riding till they made it to the meeting point. As they approached, she slowly recognised who it was.

  It was Flynn and he was holding a long spear, pointed directly at them. Victoria felt a flood of anger hit her. Tollin pulled the horse to a skidding stop and stared at the man who had betrayed them. Flynn, she realised, was responsible for the situation Andrew was in now. The look on his face was twisted in enraged anguish, but Victoria’s heart hardened. Whatever his problem was, she didn’t give a damn.

  There was a loud thundering from nearby and Victoria noticed that directly to her right was a steep drop-off, and across the gully, an impressive waterfall. Distantly she wondered if it was full of spores.

  Her eyes locked with Flynn’s.

  ‘You betrayed us!’ she snapped. ‘Why? Why did you do it? What good does murdering innocent people accomplish?’

  Flynn bristled. ‘Innocent? You are the betrayer, you, from the Other World! I thought you were different since you weren’t part of all of the mess here, but you’re just as bad, just as full of trickery!’

  Victoria gaped. ‘What are you talking about?’ She glowered at Tollin. ‘We don’t have time for this!’

  Flynn raised the spear. ‘As if you do not know!’

  Tollin held up a hand, clearing his throat. ‘Uh, I don’t know. Care to fill me in?’

  Flynn laughed darkly. For the first time, Victoria noticed something strange about him. Something wrong. The circles under his eyes seemed too dark. His lips held a black tint that seemed to be spreading to the surrounding skin. His eyes were a sickly yellow.

  He was a completely different person from the man Victoria had seen earlier that night. His breath was coming in heavy and thick and sounded wet, as if he had something in his lungs. ‘While I was helping you, dark woman, back to your keep, the soldier Thedric was stealing into the wood to ram this spear through my clan’s healer, Story,’ he spoke calmly, though shakily.

  ‘What?’ Tollin asked, completely shocked. Victoria saw his shoulders sag visibly. She realised that Tollin had lost a lot in the last few days. If what Flynn said was true, then he’d lost two friends: Molly and Story, the two he’d grown closest to since they arrived.

  Flynn pointed a finger at Tollin, saliva dangling from his lips. ‘Do not pretend you did not know, Traveller!’ he screamed. ‘My Story died and you are responsible!’

  Tollin shook his head. ‘No, that’s not possible. I was with Thedric…it’s not possible. He was with me the whole night at the keep! Story knew that!’

  Flynn was shaking. ‘You…you who always say you will help those who need it. Yet you stand by when the true injustices of the world strike. But now things are different. You will all pay for this. The Blaiden will overrun the lake and set fire to your lives. You’re too late; our clans are marching together and tonight is when it all ends!’

  Tollin s
hook his head. ‘That’s not true. Flynn, I swear. Whatever the Blaiden have told you, it’s a lie. You can’t trust them, Flynn. They’re using you!’

  ‘Shut up!’ Flynn swung the spear round to face Tollin.

  Thedric’s mare was unfortunately an easily spooked animal and when the spear whipped round, the animal reared. Thedric’s animal, however shy it was, was also trained for battle and it did the one thing it was trained to do when attacked: fight back. The horse came down hard at Flynn’s feet, knocking the spear aside and throwing Flynn off balance.

  Flynn’s arms pinwheeled wildly as he stumbled backwards. His eyes went wide and for a brief moment they locked with Victoria’s. Then he fell away from them. His body disappeared from sight into the sound of the pounding waterfall. Victoria and Tollin both lurched forward with a cry, arms outstretched, useless.

  Victoria dropped from the horse’s back and dashed to the edge. She sank to her knees. Flynn lay below her, half in the water of the stream on his back, eyes closed. The riverbed was rocky. He wasn’t moving.

  ‘The Blaiden and Druids are marching to Miol Mor and the villagers have no way of knowing what’s in store for them.’ Victoria looked up at Tollin with wide eyes.

  He nodded and swallowed, dropping to the ground beside her. ‘Yeah. Well, unless they’re already there. The force we met at the keep is hardly the entire Blaiden pack. Riding on to the village now to warn them might just be pointless.’

  She stared back down at Flynn. If she stayed here she would meet Andrew—she still had faith that he would come—but leaving the village uninformed about a massacre seemed like a crime in itself. Leaving Flynn down at the bottom of the ravine didn’t seem too kind a deed either.

  Tollin put a hand on her shoulder. ‘It’s not far to the village; if you feel we should go then we can. Of course, if we go we might miss opportunities here.’ His eyes darted towards the waterfall.

  Victoria studied his dark eyes. ‘You don’t think they’re coming, do you?’

  He avoided her gaze. ‘Of course they are.’

  She crossed her arms. ‘Please don’t lie to me. I get enough of that from Andrew.’

  Tollin shut his eyes and nodded. ‘Right. Sorry. No, I don’t think they’re coming back, Victoria. I’m sorry. I really am. There were just too many of them. The odds aren’t very good.’

  She nodded, feeling ill. She’d suspected as much, but hearing Tollin say it made it final.

  ‘But,’ Tollin said, face softening. ‘If anyone could survive that, Andrew could.’

  ‘Right.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Well, we just can’t leave Flynn down there, no matter what he’s done.’

  Tollin surveyed the area, not protesting. ‘It’s going to be hard getting down,’ he told her.

  Victoria nodded. ‘I know, but I have to go.’

  Tollin studied her. ‘I’m proud of you, Victoria.’

  She smiled weakly and lowered herself down the slope.

  * * * * *

  Things had turned violent fast in the city of Layers. The uprising had spread like wildfire and even the most common, starving folks were arming themselves and fighting back. The fear and myth surrounding the Denizen priests was mentally overwhelming, but with so many peasants standing up to them, despite what they were led to believe, Reginald almost felt like they had a chance—almost.

  He was tired from running and killing, two things he hadn’t had much of up until this point in his life. Reginald wasn’t a fan of violence. Every time he cut down a Denizen—ones that were trying to kill him—he felt miserable. It was equally disturbing how vicious Arkron was. He watched the woman with awe-filled eyes as they fought. Some people, he told himself, were just cut out for this. And some weren’t.

  Marus was one of those people who did not seem to mind the violence at all. As a gladiator, Reginald knew that he killed for a living, but Marus seemed to be feeding off of it. Reginald supposed that Marus had a grudge against the priests—admittedly, so did Reginald—but he still couldn’t bring himself to hate them as vehemently Marus did. Then again, perhaps Marus knew something he didn’t.

  Arkron and Marus made a terrifying team, and unlike the priest’s rumoured power, these two actually possessed it. They moved together in a fluid motion, like two dance partners, there for each other when needed but independent and strong. Arkron was glowing a soft green, her magic working horrible wonders on the enemies around them. Marus was simply powerful, and he had an uncanny sense for knowing where a threat was coming from. They were pieces that fit together seamlessly. Reginald felt a maddening curiosity as he looked at them. He wanted to know about their relationship, that group that Arkron had alluded to. Who they really were! No doubt their past contained some fantastic stories to hear. He hoped he’d survive long enough to ask Arkron about them someday. For now, he’d have to be happy accepting the fact they were a powerful, clever team and he’d be lost without them.

  They were three layers up and still chasing after Sinsetun, who had maddeningly managed to avoid them. The lower layers where absolutely chaotic and it was slowly spreading as the Denizen priests fled upwards and the richer layers began to catch onto what was happening down below. Up ahead, the street was barricaded off. The guards didn’t seem too keen on letting any of the chaos make its way up to the higher layers. Reginald could just barely see the palace towering over the other layers. Even from the distance they were at, Reginald couldn’t shake the sense there was just something wrong with it. He was dreading the time they’d finally reach its gates.

  First thing was first, however, and Reginald obediently ducked behind a low wall with Arkron and Marus to survey the situation ahead.

  ‘What are we going to do about the blockade?’ he asked, eyeing the guards. ‘Do you think they’ll let us pass if I’m with you?’

  ‘Probably not. You’re the cause of the trouble in the first place,’ Marus said. He turned to Arkron. ‘Got a cigarette? Can’t remember the last time I had a good smoke.’

  Arkron breathed heavily and fished about in her bag. ‘Not sure. Only reason I keep any on me is for you and I haven’t seen you in some time. Ah—here’s one.’ She handed him one of the paper tubes. She went back to studying the streets. ‘We’ll have to deal with the guards. Sinsetun might have been able to get past them but my magic is wearing out.’

  Marus smiled. ‘Not a problem, sweetheart.’

  Reginald looked between them. ‘Wait, don’t kill them. We don’t have anything against them; they’re just doing their job.’

  Arkron and Marus shared a look. Her eyebrows rose.

  ‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ Marus said.

  Arkron glanced up at the guard and sighed. ‘All righty, boys. That captain looks handsome enough. Time to let my womanly charms go to work.’

  Marus grabbed her arm. ‘Ah-ah, I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.’

  Arkron’s thin eyebrows arched. ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Marus gave her a once-over. ‘No offence, but you’re not really his…type.’

  Arkron crossed her arms across her chest.

  Marus flashed her a huge, charming grin. ‘I know Murhad pretty well. Let me handle this.’ He patted Arkron on the shoulder, then stood up and trotted across the stone courtyard to the foot of the stairs without a care.

  Reginald stared after him. He turned slowly to Arkron.

  Arkron shrugged, smiling. ‘Marus is very…social.’

  Reginald shook his head. ‘I never would have guessed.’

  Marus sidled up to the palace guard and Reginald and Arkron watched the two talking quietly for a moment.

  Arkron sighed. ‘When you’re a gladiator, your services are required for a lot more than just fighting. You meet a lot of different people that way. Honestly though, I think Marus considers it to be one of the perks of the job. Only thing he doesn’t complain about.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘His ability to make friends with just about anyone certainly helps in tight situations.’

  Reginald watched
the two men talking. ‘They’re worse off than slaves, aren’t they? At least slaves know they have some value to their lives. People don’t want slaves to die.’

  Arkron nodded. ‘Now you know why he hates the ruling class so much. He’s seen a lot of his friends meet awful ends.’ She shook her head ruefully. ‘He’s a good person, just a bit rough round the edges.’

  The man, Murhad, glanced towards them when Marus gestured. He nodded, looking a little unsure. Marus leant in close and said something in the man’s ear which made him laugh. He nodded again and Marus waved them over.

  ‘Well,’ Reginald said weakly. ‘That is a relief.’

  Arkron grinned.

  They both jumped up from their hiding position and trotted across the courtyard to Marus and the guards. Murhad was stoic and dark. When he saw Reginald, he bowed.

  ‘Highness, we feared you dead.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Reginald said, awkwardly. ‘Well…necessary precaution.’

  ‘I will not doubt you,’ Murhad smiled. ‘Seeing what the Denizens do to my friends, it is terrible. If you can set things back to the way they were, get this scourge out of our city…’

  ‘We’ll do our best,’ Reginald battled with his urgent need to get on with their mission. ‘Thanks for letting us in.’

  ‘Of course, Sire. Be careful in there. The palace is their den now.’ He smiled knowingly. ‘But with Marus by your side, you do not need to fear anything.’

  Arkron led the way. Marus clapped Murhad on the shoulder in goodbye and then hurried after the two, up the dark street.

  When he finally reached them, Arkron was digging in her bag again.

  Marus impatiently watched Arkron as she rooted about. ‘Will you please hurry up and find what you’re looking for? That lizard is getting away from us!’

  ‘Calm down, sweetheart,’ Arkron sighed. ‘You’re going to like this. Trust me.’

  Marus’s eyebrows went up. ‘Oh?’

  Arkron pulled out a cylindrical, metal object, which had a hole at one end and a handle at the other. A copper wire wrapped round the silver fat tube, connecting the triggered handle to a smaller cylindrical tube on top.