The Awakened World Boxed Set

by William Stacey

"But … you never spoke with me, never behaved like anything but another shade, not until the crash."

  THE DRAGON’S MAGIC WALLED AWAY YOUR MEMORIES OF TAKING YOUR FATHER’S LIFE, BUT THEY ALSO BARRICADED YOUR CONSCIOUSNESS FROM ME—UNTIL THE DAY YOU ALMOST DIED. I REALIZED IF I DID NOT HELP YOU, YOU WOULD DIE, AND I WOULD BE TRAPPED ONCE MORE. I BROKE THROUGH THE DRAGON’S BARRIER, REACHING OUT TO YOU. I WORKED MAGIC THROUGH YOU, KEEPING YOU ALIVE.

  "The people whose life force I took … the stable hand, the Tzitzime?"

  I AM SORRY FOR YOUR PAIN, ANGELA, BUT YOU ALREADY KNOW THE ANSWER TO THAT. I CAN NO LONGER TOUCH THE MAGIC DIRECTLY. BUT SOMETIMES, WHEN THE NEED IS GREAT, I CAN WORK MY MAGIC THROUGH YOU.

  "Then it’s true. I killed those people." She felt as though the world sat atop her shoulders, threatening to crush her.

  IT HURTS BECAUSE YOUR SOUL IS PURE. NEITHER AL-ADIN NOR BABI YAGHA EVER EXPERIENCED A MOMENT OF DOUBT OR ANGUISH FOR THE LIVES THEY STOLE. ONCE YOU TOOK YOUR FIRST LIFE, TOOK MAGIC DIRECT FROM THE SOURCE, YOU BEGAN TO ACHIEVE YOUR POTENTIAL. YOUR SPELLS, THOSE PALTRY SPELLS THE FEY TAUGHT YOU, GREW A HUNDREDFOLD IN STRENGTH.

  "Why did you wait so long to tell me any of this?"

  FOR TWO REASONS. THE FIRST WAS BECAUSE I UNDERSTOOD WHY THE DRAGON HID YOUR PAST FROM YOU. YOU WOULD NEED ONLY A PUSH TO SEND YOU INTO THE ABYSS, TO MAKE YOU LIKE AL-ADIN AND BABI YAGHA, SO I HID AWAY WITHIN YOUR PSYCHE BUT WAS ALWAYS WATCHING.

  THE SECOND REASON WAS BECAUSE I COULD ONLY BREAK THROUGH THE DRAGON’S BARRIER WHEN THE NEED WAS MOST DIRE—THE DAY YOU ALMOST DIED. BUT AFTER I BROKE THROUGH ONCE, IT BECAME EASIER. EVEN WHEN YOUR LIFE WASN’T THREATENED, I REACHED OUT TO YOU ON THE MOUNTAINTOP, SHOWED YOU THE HIDDEN ENTRANCE TO THE LAIR OF THE DRAGON.

  YET STILL THE DRAGON’S BARRIER IMPEDED MY EFFORTS.

  WHEN THE OTHER SOURCE MAGE, THE FEY LORD, SHOWED YOU THE PAST, HE RIPPED AWAY THE DRAGON’S MAGIC, REPLACING IT WITH HIS OWN CHARM SPELL. THE IRONY WAS THAT YOU WERE FINALLY FREE BUT DEAF TO MY WARNINGS.

  "And Lodin—he’s cast a spell over me to make me love him."

  YES.

  "Why? Why would he care about me?"

  HE DOES NOT CARE ABOUT YOU. HE FEARS YOU.

  "Fears me? He's a Fey Lord, king of the Hollows, another source mage, one who understands the magic far better than I ever could. Why would he fear me?"

  HE FEARS WHAT YOU MAY BECOME. HE KNOWS THERE'S SOMETHING DIFFERENT ABOUT YOU. HE CAN SENSE MY PRESENCE. BUT HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT I AM, NOT YET—ALTHOUGH HE BEGINS TO SUSPECT. EVEN IN HIS REALM, HE HAS HEARD THE TALES OF AL-ADIN AND BABI YAGHA. BUT HE KNOWS THAT IF HE COMPLETES HIS CHARM SPELL, HE WILL CONTROL YOU—AND ME THROUGH YOU. IF THAT EVER COMES TO PASS, HE WILL NEVER CONTENT HIMSELF WITH ONE REALM. HE IS A KINDRED SOUL TO AL-ADIN AND BABI YAGHA.

  "I ..." Lodin had cast a spell on her. She saw that so clearly now. The knowledge made her angry. She was tired of being played, tired of never knowing what was real and what was magic. First, the dragon-mark had drawn her and Tec together—but he had insisted it only intensified feelings that were already there, and she believed him—but this, Lodin’s charm spell, was completely different. Lodin's magic was much darker. She made fists of her hands, concentrated on her breaths. "Is he ... is it too late?"

  NOT YET. HERE, TIME HAS SLOWN TO A CRAWL, BUT IF HE CONSUMMATES HIS RITUAL, YOU WILL TRULY BE LOST, A THRALL BOUND IN CHAINS OF LOVE FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE. YOU MUST AWAKEN AND FIGHT BACK.

  "How? If what you say is true, then it’s already too late. I’m not strong enough to fight him."

  I CAN HELP YOU, BUT YOU MUST GO BACK NOW. DO NOT LET HIM HAVE YOU. DO NOT LET HIM HAVE US.

  In truth, it was all too much, but she believed him—it—the Shade King. "Okay, send me back."

  Fires blanketed her. Just for a moment, she feared she’d burn. She didn’t.

  She opened her eyes to see Lodin looming over her, his face shiny with lust. She had no mana left, but Char had taught her students to fight with hexed swords or bare fists.

  STRIKE, ANGELA. HIS SHADE WILL NOT PROTECT HIM FROM ME.

  Angie made a knife of her right hand and struck Lodin in the throat with her fingertips. The look of profound surprise that filled his golden eyes was much more satisfying than sex with him ever could have been.

  Chapter 29

  Angie followed up her throat strike by kneeing Lodin in his golden balls.

  He fell away from her, curling into a ball onto the stone floor, a half wheeze, half moan slipping past his lips. She was on her feet in a moment and hurried to the stand upon which he kept his spear. She took the weapon in both hands, holding it like a staff. Lodin rose to his knees, his face red with pain, and tried to extend his hand toward her. She spun the spear, slamming the end of the shaft against his golden-blond head. The impact made a meaty thud, and Lodin dropped. She had been angry and had hit him a tad harder than she had meant to, but his chest still rose and fell. Just for a moment, she considered finishing him. She was pretty sure Erin would have, but she just couldn't bring herself to commit cold-blooded murder. She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. What do I do now? she asked the Shade King.

  ESCAPE.

  How? The tower is filled with his warriors. There are centaurs patrolling the perimeter.

  I WILL SHOW YOU THE PATH. BRING HIS WEAPON. YOU WILL NEED IT TO OPEN THE PORTAL.

  She dressed quickly, once more putting on her beautiful wedding gown. As with most Fey garments, the silver-and-blue gown was cut too low in the chest, the arms bare, and a long slit in the hem revealed most of her thigh, but it was better than nothing, and at least she'd be able to move and fight. Thank God these Fey don’t know about high heels, she thought as she put the soft slippers back on, wishing she had a good pair of combat boots. She hefted the spear. It was too heavy for her, but as with the gown, it was better than nothing.

  You'd better be right about this, she told the Shade King. It didn't answer. First things first: she needed to return to her own bedchamber. There was no way she was leaving without Nightfall.

  She left Lodin slumbering on the floor, a puddle of drool around his mouth. She stopped in the open doorway, turning to glare at him. "Sorry, but it would never have worked out between us. I don't like my men prettier than me." Then she slipped out into the dark passageway.

  Torches burned in wall sconces, and Angie slipped through the corridors of Lodin's fortresslike tower. She knew exactly where she was, although she couldn't say just how long she had been here: days, weeks ... longer? Lodin's spell was gone, leaving her head clear, and resolve filled her. She needed to get home, back to her own world, back to Tec, a man she did care for.

  A man she now suspected she did love.

  Was he even still alive? Damn Lodin! Maybe she should have killed him after all.

  She slipped down the stone corridors. Most of the guards were on the lower levels, not here near Lodin's personal chambers. There would be some, though, his very best ogden warriors. And even at night, there'd be servants. If they saw her—slipping away from the marriage bed—they’d be suspicious. If they saw she bore Lodin's spear, they'd raise the alarm for certain.

  When she heard movement in the corridor ahead, she slipped into an empty broom chamber and closed her eyes, casting out her life sense. Three life forms—elves, she thought—moved down the hallway, walking right past where she hid. She remained until they moved out of range and then opened her eyes and slipped out once more. She might have been out of mana, but she could still sense life. I could have a new career as a thief.

  She reached her own bedchamber. It was on the same level as Lodin's, which made sense; he'd want her close for his spell to work. Her door was closed, but she slipped it open and darted inside, closing it softly behind her.

  Maeve lay on her bed, naked, another satyr atop her, a male she had seen working in Lodin's stables. They were clearly in the throes of coitus, but Maeve's eyes widened when she spied Angie, grew even wider when she saw the spear in her hands.

  "Oh,
shit," Angie said, her breath catching in her throat, but she lunged forward, swinging the end of the spear down on the back of the stable hand's head, hating herself for the solid "thwack" it made. Maeve's lover fell atop her, trapping her. Maeve opened her mouth to scream, and Angie, unsure of what else to do, dropped the spear and threw herself atop them, placing her palm over the satyr's mouth.

  TAKE HER LIFE FORCE, the Shade King urged.

  "I won't kill her," Angie said out loud, wrestling with the increasingly frantic satyr.

  YOU'VE NEVER HAD TO. A profound sense of regret coursed through Angie, emanating from the entity she shared her body with. THERE IS SO MUCH I HAVE YET TO TEACH YOU. LET ME START WITH MERCY. TAKE ONLY A FRACTION. I WILL HELP YOU STOP BEFORE YOU TAKE IT ALL.

  The concept of killing Maeve filled Angie with horror, but she knew that in another moment, the satyr would break free and scream, and if the guards captured her, Angie would never escape Lodin again. The thought of a lifetime enthralled to that golden freak panicked her. She opened herself up, willing Maeve's life force to flow into her. And as it did, Maeve froze, her eyes wide.

  But a heartbeat later, the Shade King helped her stop. ENOUGH.

  Angie gasped as she drew back, climbing from the two satyrs to stand at the foot of her bed, her breath heaving. Mana flowed through her, energizing her, but Maeve still lived. Her eyes had rolled into the back of her head, and her small breasts rose and fell.

  "I ... I never ... Oh, god, why didn't I realize I could stop?" She stared in abject disbelief, once again seeing the face of the dead stable hand and then her father. All those lives...

  CONTROL COMES WITH PRACTICE. I ONLY KNEW IT WAS POSSIBLE BECAUSE BOTH AL-ADIN AND BABI YAGHA TORTURED HUNDREDS, TAKING A FRACTION OF THEIR LIFE FORCE AT A TIME TO PROLONG THEIR VICTIMS' DEATHS. THEIR INTENT WAS EVIL, BUT THAT DOES NOT MEAN YOU CANNOT USE IT FOR GOOD. BUT HURRY NOW. YOU ARE RUNNING OUT OF TIME.

  Her thoughts a tempest, she snatched Nightfall from the footlocker, strapping the sword around her hip. She froze when she saw the glint of glass in the depths of the locker: her watch, her father's watch. With fingers trembling, she took the family heirloom. As she held the Second World War–era observation watch, her emotions surged. It had been handed down from father to son until finally it had come to her—not, as she had always believed, from her father's hand but from Marshal's. Tears flowed down her cheeks, and she held it to her bosom. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

  THE FAULT WAS NEVER YOURS. THE SUCCUBUS KNEW THIS, AS DID THE DRAGON. YOU ARE A SOURCE MAGE. SOONER ASK A BABE TO NOT DRAW BREATH THAN TO EXPECT YOU TO NOT DRAW LIFE.

  "I killed him, my own father. I drove my mother and brother away."

  ANGELA, YOU MUST MAKE PEACE WITH WHAT YOU ARE. YOUR SECRETS ARE ALL GONE, THE PAST LAID BARE. ALL THAT REMAINS IS WHAT COMES NEXT. HONOR YOUR FATHER'S MEMORY WITH THE CHOICES YOU MAKE. MAYHAPS WE CAN BOTH MAKE AMENDS FOR OUR SINS. TOGETHER.

  She wiped angrily at her eyes but strapped the watch into place, a fierce determination replacing her anguish. Then she heard the cries of the guards as the alarm rose within the tower.

  HE AWAKES. HURRY!

  She darted from her bedchamber just as a trio of ax-wielding ogden guards in plate armor ran around the far corner of the passageway. They cried out and charged her. Angie cast Shockwave but aimed for the floor of the passageway in front of them. The force of the blast rebounded and knocked the guards down. They weren't her enemy and never had been, and she wasn’t about to start killing indiscriminately. She reached the stairs but heard the uproar from below. The entire tower was roused. I'll never get out, not now.

  NOT OUT. UP.

  Up? That made no sense, but she remembered the route well enough, remembered standing atop the crenellations, thinking about throwing herself over. She ran up the stairs three at a time and burst out onto the open summit, her heart beating wildly and sweat coating her skin. Behind her, she heard the pounding of mailed boots. The sky was the darker shade of red that signified night in the Hollows. She spun in place, looking for a way to block the stairs, but saw nothing.

  "What now?"

  THE PORTAL STONES, DO YOU SEE THEM?

  She ran to the battlements and peered down. The ground below was lit with torches as the guards ran about. Several saw her and yelled. The maze was far below, hundreds of feet away, and even farther away was the glen with the broken portal stones. She couldn't see Moonwing but knew he must be there.

  When Angie heard the angry screams of Lodin from the stairs, her heart skipped a beat. She faced the stairwell, Lodin's heavy spear in her hands. She'd die before letting him take her.

  ANGELA, YOU HAVE NO REASON, BUT I ASK YOU TO TRUST ME.

  "I've trusted you enough, and look where it got me."

  TRUST ME ONCE MORE. JUMP.

  Her head snapped back over the battlements, hundreds of feet down. "I ... I'll die."

  IF YOU STAY, YOU'LL BE ENSLAVED. JUMP. I WILL NOT FAIL YOU.

  As the first of the ogden guards burst out of the stairwell, Angie turned and leaped from the battlements. Death was better than slavery.

  She didn't fall.

  Instead, her entire body burst into flames. With her arms outstretched, the spear in one hand, she glided through the air, on fire but not burning, although her beautiful wedding gown and slippers flash incinerated, leaving her naked but for her worked leather sword belt with Nightfall around her waist. Maybe the leather was too hard to burn away. Floating lighter than air, she soared over the maze, heading for the glen. The ogden guards shot at her with bows, but the arrows shattered against the Shade King's shield. She was filled with wonder. Lodin's screams chased her, grew weaker as the distance increased.

  "Will he follow?" she asked breathlessly as she soared closer to the glen.

  HE HAS NEITHER THE MAGIC NOR THE KNOWLEDGE, BUT HE WILL COME ON FOOT, AND QUICKLY.

  She reached the green grass of the glen, her now-bare feet landing softly, her heart beating with wonder. She had flown—well, maybe not flown, not exactly, but it hadn't been falling either. She laughed with sheer joy, spinning in place.

  And then froze when she saw the silver griffin padding silently toward her.

  The griffin must have weighed a thousand pounds, far larger than any lion in Char's zoo. Its wings were drawn back, and its feathers rose like a dog's hackles.

  STAND STRONG. THEY ARE CLEVER AND NOBLE CREATURES AND RESPECT BRAVERY.

  It stopped only a foot from her, lowering its eagle head to stare at her. She forced herself to meet the griffin's eyes despite the terror that threatened to loosen her bladder. Her legs trembled, but her voice was firm as she used Lodin's spear to point to the grassy ground on her right, the message clear. "Moonwing. I am his queen. He told you this. I carry his heart and his trust." She carried nothing of the kind, but she did have his spear. Just how intelligent is a griffin? she wondered as her chest tightened with fear.

  Moonwing edged closer, and it took every ounce of will she had not to bolt and run. Up close, she saw a latch at the rear of the griffin’s collar to which was still attached the long length of chain. Moonwing was as much a prisoner as she had been. The only difference was that she had been chained with magic.

  "That golden asshole doesn’t get to keep any more prisoners," she said as she unclasped the latch, removing the collar around the griffin’s neck.

  She dropped the heavy collar to the ground. Moonwing turned and ambled away, settling itself heavily upon the grass, content to groom its feathers with a long black tongue that extended past its golden beak. She almost laughed, imagining a dog or a big cat.

  HURRY. USE THE SPEAR.

  Angie faced the pile of rubble that was the Portal Stones of Nevernight, her path home. I don't know what to do.

  She heard horns in the maze, followed by the howling of Lodin's barghests, his eight-legged hunting beasts. They were coming for her.

  I WILL SHOW YOU. WILL YOUR MAGIC INTO THE SPEAR. DIRECT IT AT THE STONES.

  She did as
the Shade King asked, surprising herself when the spearhead glowed with occult red energy. She felt the Shade King working through her, as it had the other times. The first time, following the helicopter crash, it had taken over her body, casting snakes of fire at the Norteno soldiers. Later, she had given it control of her body and watched as it created flaming tornadoes to hunt down Nathan's mages. This time, though, they worked as a team. Without a word of instruction necessary, the Shade King showed her how to twist the flows of magic and activate the stones. The stones vibrated at first and then rolled together as they had before, fitting atop one another and once more forming a circular portal ten feet wide.

  The howling of the barghests grew in intensity. Angie cast a wild-eyed glance over her shoulder as the pack of eight-legged monsters burst out of the maze, coming for her. Moonwing leaped into the air, his wings outstretched, and landed amidst them, ripping into them with beak and claw, scattering them. Bless you, you beautiful silver bird ... lion ... thing.

  USE ALL OF THE MANA, EVERY OUNCE YOU STILL HAVE. HOLD NOTHING BACK.

  And she did, pouring forth every bit of life force she had borrowed from Maeve. The air in the portal's opening warped and shifted, changing color. In a moment, it became a dark forest at night. Her world. A half-moon shone over the dark trees.

  HURRY.

  Still holding Lodin's spear, she stepped through, back to her world.

  DOWN!

  She threw herself to the ground just as Moonwing flashed through the portal behind her, his wings curled around his body. The griffin flew over her, his wings snapping out as he rose into the air and vanished into the night.

  Angie rose on hands and knees. She had dropped Lodin's spear, and it lay before her, no longer glowing. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the portal was gone. But rising behind her, twenty feet high and built of sticks and rope, was a tall effigy of a figure with what looked like deer horns sprouting from its wooden head and a tall spear-like branch of wood in its outstretched right arm. Lodin. It’s supposed to be Lodin, but as a god, as he sees himself.