Letting his eyes drift shut, his thoughts wandered back. “I don’t know how long ago it was when it all began…five thousand years? Three? A thousand? It doesn’t matter. Long ago, before Earth or Gioll were even a blip, there was Under. It was ruled by seven Ancients. Terrible, eldritch beings from the great darkness between worlds. They came here to play—to live—to create. And what wonders they could build for themselves…except they could not create a soul. They wished to create life.”
She pulled his hair gently from his back and tucked it over his shoulder.
He continued. “They created a son. Their only true son. They made the King of All. But he was a miserable, unlovable, tyrant of a thing. And he grew bored. The Ancients began to collect for him some toys—souls and creatures from other worlds to amuse him. And, oh, how amused he was. How he delighted in torturing his playthings. I was one of the original six who were brought here to be his…companions. Some nights, I can still hear Ini screaming in the darkness.”
Ember went still. “I…what became of him?”
“It was not enough to have his toys. He wanted a bride. He demanded the Ancients make for him someone he might love, and more importantly, who might love him. But they could not do it. In his rage, he conspired with his six favorite toys to overthrow the Ancients. To imprison them at the bottom of a lake he had us carve, one stone stair at a time.”
He sneered. He could remember that winding stone staircase that descended into the darkness until he wondered if they would reach the core of the world itself. He remembered how the stones bit into his torn fingernails as he and the others carved the shrine with their bare hands.
Shaking his head, he sighed. “He tricked them into thinking it was a new altar he had built in thanks to his creators. They came to see what he had made, and we turned on them. Together, they were defeated. And with my gift to command chains, I bound them there in that terrible place. They screamed—they howled—and the altar filled with blood. It is now known as the Pool of the Ancients. Buried deep beneath the ruins of that cathedral I burned.”
“Oh…and the King of All?”
“I’m getting there!” He laughed. “It’s a long story.”
“All right, I’m sorry.” She chuckled and reached for the bandages. They were dry. While they would never be clean again, they at least looked less…crunchy. She began to carefully wrap his wounds. “Go on.”
“The moment the Ancients were bound, we learned a terrible secret. The King of All was not whole without them. They could not create a perfect life. The man who collapsed to the stones rose with no memory of who he had been. In fact, no one remembered…except me. He fell as the nameless King of All. He rose as Aon, King of Shadows. A madman and a warlock.” He grunted. “I guess he’s no longer reigning Crazy Champion of Under, is he?”
“I suppose not.”
“Be nice to me.” He twisted to shoot a playful glare up at her.
She was smirking. “You started it. I only seconded it.”
He faced the fire again and let her resume wrapping his wounds. And he resumed his story. “But the hollowness Aon felt in his heart plagued him through his new life. He hungered for a companion. For love. But he was denied at every turn. Desperate, he took matters into his own hands. He began a war under the ruse of capturing Qta, the King of Dreams. He demanded that Qta make for him a bride. When Qta refused and said it could not be done, Aon tortured him until his mind shattered. He killed Qta and draining his body of the power that had fueled Qta, Aon stitched marks of turquoise onto his own arms and tried to use his own harnessed power to create someone to love him. It…failed. We will leave it at that.”
Ember had finished bandaging his chest. He leaned back so she could reach his arms. He leaned a little farther back, and he was resting against her. She stiffened at the contact but didn’t move away. She was wearing her shirt again—damn. But feeling the warmth of her, and the softness, it soothed something in him.
“With Qta’s death, Under was thrown out of balance. The world began to shrink as it was consumed by the void. Trying to undo the wrongs and save the world, Aon began a mad quest to try to control the ink on the bodies of those in Under. To drain the substance from one, transmute it, and stitch it back on in a new fashion. All in the name of restoring the House of Dreams.”
“I would say ‘at least he learned his lesson,’ but I’ve met the man.” Ember sighed.
Rxa laughed at that, leaning his head against her chest. “I do adore you, little dove.”
She went silent and didn’t answer. Resolutely ignoring his comment, she went back to wrapping his arm.
“Anywhoozle,” he continued. “Along came a mortal girl named Lydia. Marked to join us but refused by the Ancients, a mystery upon a mystery. Edu, the King of Flames, wished her dead, rightfully assuming that it was a product of Aon’s corruptive influence. Aon became obsessed with the girl. He claims they fell in love. She was warped and corrupted by his desires. When Edu killed her, Aon cast her into the Pool of the Ancients, and in a twist of cruelty, they raised her as the Queen of Dreams. They finally had their present for their only true son. I…could not let it stand.”
“What do you mean?”
“She was an aberration. I wish you could have seen her—for all the worlds acting as a mortal, too terrified to embrace her power, and hiding behind him like a shield. She was no queen of Under. She was not one of us. I did the only thing I could think of to keep Under safe from Aon’s designs. I chained her to the bottom of the lake of blood with the Ancients who had made her.”
Ember went silent. “You did…you did what?”
“She would have gone mad in time. I did not want to hurt her. She had nothing to do with what befell her. I could not kill her, or else I would doom Under a second time. So…I imprisoned her in a cage I thought Aon would never dare shatter. To free her would be to free them, as well.”
“He killed you.”
“Yes. And the others let it happen. The others allowed it! Lyon himself betrayed me—me—his best friend, his mentor, and his king! Why? To stand beside a girl whose soul and mind was controlled by the warlock? I couldn’t let the King of All win after what he had done to us—I could never let him win.”
He was shaking. In rage, in pain, in shame, he didn’t know. Baring is fangs, he snarled. “I remembered those days under that blistering, terrible sun. I remembered his laughter. I remembered what he used to do to us—how creative he became in ways to torture us. He had manipulated her, and everyone, into thinking he could love. He cannot. He is deluding himself and all the others. But no one understood…no one sided with me. I died alone. Unloved. Abandoned by those who professed to hate him and love me.”
Rxa realized there was liquid running down his face. His salty tears stung the angry cuts on his face. Lowering his head farther, he hid his face behind his long blond hair. “It was all a lie…”
Arms circled him. Stunned, he didn’t know what to do as she pulled him to her chest and held him. She tucked his head under her chin.
Then…she began to sing.
And he let himself cry.
7
Lydia sat back on the steps of the building she called her home. It was a huge step pyramid made of rough gray blocks. The massive boulders had been carefully placed and carved in intricate patterns.
Silently roaring heads of ancient creatures stood guard over the manmade reflecting pool that extended some hundreds of feet away and served as the center of the Temple of Dreams. She hadn’t designed it…but it was hers now.
Had been for about four hundred years.
A lot had happened in the time that had passed. She had updated the place—wired it for power. Still don’t have internet. I’ll convince Vjo someday. And it wasn’t nearly as abandoned as it had once been.
She had people.
A house of her own. Servants. An elder. People who…looked to her as if she was a queen. Probably because she was one. Or at least that was what they kept te
lling her, anyway. She folded her arms behind her head and stretched, looking out at the reflecting pool. It shone with a thousand lights from the stars overhead, coupled with the blinking multicolored fireflies she adored. They swirled around in their colors, flashing in the sky.
The flight from Aon’s estate to her home had been long and tiring. She hadn’t ever had to do it before—why fly when she could teleport? It was made worse by the fact that she had been carrying Aon. He had been unconscious for the first half, and conscious and angry for the second half.
He had a good reason to be in a foul mood. Being sliced clean through wasn’t fun. She’d “died” a few times in the four hundred years she’d been the Queen of Dreams—usually by accident, and usually to Evie during their sparring matches. But being cut in half like that was not something she would volunteer for.
“How was I to know Rxa would summon a scythe?” Aon had snarled when she had asked if he knew that was going to happen.
She sighed.
Someone settled down beside her, one step up from where she was. Glancing up, she smiled at the shadowy figure. For someone who wore expensive shoes, he could move silently when he wanted to. She leaned her head on Aon’s thigh. “Hey.”
“Navaa and Maeve have finished transporting my equipment to the basement. I will begin shortly. I thought perhaps I should take a moment to be with you before I lose myself in my work.”
“I appreciate that.” She laughed. “Remember the time you went a year without coming up for air?”
“Yes, yes. And you love to remind me.” His voice was tender. “Truly, I don’t understand why you object to my suggestion as to how to retrieve me from my laboratory.”
“What, strip naked and get on your table?” She snickered. “That’ll either be sexy or painful. Or knowing you, both.”
“And you love me.” The statement was still edged in disbelief. He still asked her that question at least once a year. No matter how many times she said she did—no matter how many times she proved it—part of him couldn’t come to terms with it.
“Last I checked. Oh. Side note. I don’t like the fact that the horrible prison you designed for Qta is beneath my home. That was a dirty trick to pull on him.”
“It was effective. No one ever looks for someone right where they’ve been. They all assumed I imprisoned him in my estate. Not his. Building it beneath Qta’s nose without him knowing was quite the stunt, however.” He sighed. “I did not, however, design a doorway into that cage. I will need assistance from your creatures in digging out a tunnel to access it.”
“I’m sure I can poof something up for you.”
They fell silent for a long time. A clawed hand traced through her hair, sharp tips grazing her scalp. “What troubles you, dragonfly?”
“What doesn’t?”
He chuckled. “I apologize for my mood these past two days.”
“That’s not it.” She shut her eyes, enjoying the smell of old books and dust that seemed to follow him around. It always comforted her. “And you’re forgiven.”
“I suppose if you were to leave me for my temper, you would have done it long ago. Then what is it, if not my cantankerous personality?”
She smiled. “The girl, Ember.”
“Ah. Yes. You would feel a kinship with a mortal woman trapped in an unforgiving, immortal world.” He kept combing his fingers through her hair. She would never get sick of the sensation. “I hope she survived.”
“Why? You’ve used up your ‘mortal girls I care about’ quota.”
“Have I, now? How troublesome. And here I thought to set up my own personal harem. Someone has to follow in Edu’s footsteps.”
She laughed and scooted up a step to sit beside him. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Jackass.”
“Always.” He paused. “No, I hope she survived, as she factors into my plan. There are many ways we might survive this new nonsense the Ancients have levied upon us. Some are more…pleasant than others. She is required for those.”
“Oh?” She leaned her head on his chest and gazed out at the reflecting pool. “Don’t suppose you’d tell me what those plans are?”
“Of course not. But I will say this—the only hope I think we have of Rxa existing in this world at peace with the rest of us…lies with her. That is, if she isn’t already dead.”
She let out a long sigh. “Great. Just great.”
Ember sang quietly and held Rxa as he cried. When her song was finished, he had stopped. His hands were tied to his waist, and he couldn’t wipe the tears away himself. Tenderly—waiting for him to flinch away from her—she brushed the moisture from his cheeks. She tried her best to avoid the open wounds or the angry scars.
He had gone quiet, leaning against her chest, nestled between her knees. She watched the fire for a while, listening to Cricket snoring where the horse had lain down by the edge of the river. “What’s it like, dying?”
Rxa laughed once, quietly. “Dying is painful. Un-dying is excruciating. Being dead…is nothing. Literally. I was nothing. I always wondered if we had an afterlife here in Under. Now I know we don’t.”
“I’m sorry…”
“You say that a lot.”
“It’s true.”
He smirked and leaned his head back against her. He was sitting on the ground, and her on a log, and his head still came up to her shoulder. His eyes were shut, as he seemed to bask in her embrace. “My compassionate poisoner.”
This is dangerous. I shouldn’t be doing this. But the moment she had held him as he cried, peace had come over his features. The anguished lines had smoothed. “If you stop your drengil, I can let you go. All this can stop.”
“No.”
She sighed. “I wish I could say that I understood.”
“You will. Once you see what this world is truly like. You will. Then you’ll stand at my side and help me burn this place down.”
“And what could I do to help you? I’m just a mortal.”
“You seem to be doing just fine saving it.” He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her. Those pale-yellow orbs seemed to cut through her. The mania and fury had left him for a moment. There was something else in his expression that scared her even worse.
Passion.
He inched his face closer to hers. She could feel his warm breath against her as his lips hovered a bare inch from hers.
She pulled back and turned her head away from him.
The moment shattered.
“Side note—I think they had to plug holes in my head with random bits of other people.” Rxa scrunched up his nose.
“How so?”
“Why do I know all the lyrics to The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air? Or what a ‘thot’ is? And what the ever-loving fuck is a meme?” He sighed and slumped against her, lowering his head. “Humans are strange.”
“You’re weirder. I promise.”
He snorted. “You say that. You haven’t seen their pornography.”
That got her to laugh.
“You smell nice.” He leaned his head against the side of her neck. “Can I feed from your throat tonight? Please?”
“Why?”
“It’s more intimate.”
He means I won’t be able to disassociate. I won’t be able to avoid being overcome by the sensations. She cringed. “No.”
“Why not?” He sounded disappointed. Like a child who was told he couldn’t go out and play with his friends.
She felt her jaw tick. Carefully, she pulled away from him, shifting until she was sitting beside him instead. Frowning, he scooted back over to her. “Why are you doing this, Rxa?”
“Doing what?” He leaned his head against her.
“Touching me.”
“I enjoy it. You do, too. Your heart races when I’m near you.”
“It’s from fear.”
He smirked coyly at her. “You’re a bad liar.”
Shaking her head, she stood and walked away from him. She needed space. S
he needed to put some distance between them, even just for a moment. Now that he had dunked in the river, he no longer reeked of blood. Instead, there was a strange sandalwood or incense scent about him. It made her feel warm. Combined with the fire, it was too much.
Everything was just too much.
Walking ten paces away from the fire, she leaned her arms against a tree and put her head on her forearms. Shutting her eyes, she focused on her breathing.
“Come here, little dove.” The way he said it sent a shiver down her spine. “Let me kiss your fears away.”
“Stop!” She slammed a hand against the bark, the stinging pain bringing her back to the moment. I think I was about to have a panic attack. “Just stop. I can’t handle this.”
He went silent.
Turning her back to the tree, she looked over to him. Lit in the flashing amber of the firelight, he was watching her with a frown on his sharp features. He really is beautiful, isn’t he? She sighed. Panic rose in her again, a rising tide of anxiety, and she was losing the fight to keep her head above water. She looked up at the stars to keep her own tears from falling. “You’re teasing me, and it’s cruel.”
“You’re poisoning me. I get to have my fun, don’t I?”
“No! You don’t! You’re killing this world—you’ve already murdered so many. And if I don’t—if I don’t stop you, you’ll kill all the rest.” She dug her fingernails into her palms. “I couldn’t save my world. I will not let this one die. I don’t care if—” She swallowed the rest of her words.
Rxa tilted his head. “If what?”
Shaking her head again, she slumped onto the ground. “Nothing.”
“Come here, Ember. Sit by me.”
“Why?”
“You’re upset. I find I don’t like you this way.”
Picking up a twig from the ground beside her, she began to break it into little pieces. “You’re playing nice. You’re manipulating me. You’re commanding your drengil to murder and devour other innocent souls—”
He snorted. “Innocent.”
“—innocent souls.” She glared at him and went back to breaking the twig into smaller sticks. “While you give me this sob story and pretend you are just some wounded, misunderstood, tragic figure. You want me to set you free.”
Grave of Words (Fall of Under Book 2) Page 6