by LJ Andrews
Connor, Shannon’s husband, had joined the crowd and moved toward Dax and Killian once he spotted them.
“I’m not sure I want to know what happened up here,” Connor said, lowering to the floor with them.
Killian offered a small smile. “It got a little wild.”
“Well, although I don’t condone murder, I’m sure Dax had good reason for doing what he did?”
“How’d you know it was me?” Dax asked, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.
Connor chuckled and tapped Dax’s knee. “The mark on that kid’s neck could have come only from one ticked off Ignisian. And seeing you all upset on the floor…come on, guys, I’m one of the most brilliant people in this building. I just put it together. I hope you noted how quickly I pieced it together too.”
“You’re also one of the most humble people I’ve ever met,” Killian teased.
“Of course. That as well.”
“He said Cimmerians were evil…he insinuated that Soph…” Dax trailed off and clenched his jaw as if the anger had welled up again.
Connor patted his knee again and lowered his voice. “You don’t need to explain. If it had been me and he’d mentioned Shannon…I wouldn’t have stopped.”
“DAX,” Egan’s voice boomed across the open hallway. Even those who still remained in the actual dining hall quieted.
Dax gulped subtly and rose to his feet. He made his way toward his chief and crossed a fist over his chest as his sign of respect. Egan did not return he gesture. Mercedes stood next to her father and Killian saw her whisper something, but Egan never broke his gaze from Dax.
Egan jerked his head signaling him to follow into an open elevator car. Dax bowed his head slightly and immediately followed Egan. Mercedes met Killian’s eye from across the hall and offered a brief sad smile before following Dax and her father.
“What’s happening, Connor?” Killian said under his breath. “We can’t turn on each other or we won’t stand a chance.”
“You’re right, we won’t stand a chance. If only we had a secret weapon to stop the Trinity.”
Killian turned and faced Connor, curious at his choice of words. The way he’d spoken was as if he knew more than he was saying.
“Funny you would say that. Owen said something similar this morning.”
“I’ve wanted to find you for a few days. We need help. I’ve been following Trinity movements for months now. Killian, they have recruited nearly every dark creature I never even knew existed. Maurelle is gaining strength, and more and more people are turning up dead or missing.”
“What are you saying?” Killian breathed out quietly.
“I...have stumbled into a…discovery and I’d like your help.” Connor averted his eyes from Killian’s face and they darted left and right as if he feared someone would overhear their conversation.
Killian stepped closer toward his friend and gripped his shoulder. Ever since Infinium activated, he was several inches taller than Connor and much broader. “Connor, you’re acting strange. Are you in some kind of trouble?”
Connor met Killian’s eye. “Not yet, but we all will be if I can’t get to the bottom of this. I could really use your help.”
He released Connor’s arm and stepped back, his brow furrowing as he studied Connor, hoping to gauge his emotions.
“You’re anxious and really worried. What have you done, Connor?”
Connor huffed and stood straighter before he answered. “I did something way beyond my job description. It was necessary and I think I’ve found something we can use against the Trinity. Please just meet me later—come to my lab.”
“I’m bringing Mercedes at least—”
“Killian, we can’t tell anyone.”
“I lectured Owen earlier about keeping secrets. Mercedes is powerful, too, and if you’ve found something that can help, she’s coming,” he said forcefully.
“Fine,” Connor hissed. “But understand not even Shannon knows what I’ve done. Keep it quiet.”
Without waiting for Killian to assure him he’d stay quiet, Connor’s demeanor changed and he smiled and walked toward the elevator, leaving Killian confused and alone. His jaw tightened as he absorbed the remaining intense, urgent anxiety Connor had emitted as they spoke. He’d discovered something exciting, or dangerous. Killian swallowed anticipating when they would meet and learn which of the two it was.
Chapter 5
The Scroll
Her footsteps echoed along the damp stone hallway. Maurelle could sense the fear and respect fill her chest from every member of the society she passed. Her façade of the kind, giving queen was over and she didn’t grace any of them with her attention. Smiling to herself as their hesitation and reluctance to meet her eye overwhelmed her, she reveled in the power she had over her followers.
Finally reaching the end of the hallway, she pushed against a thick wooden door with an ancient iron handle and hinges. Inside, the room smelled of mold and rainwater. The iron cages lining the walls were filled with people from every realm, traitors and dissenters. Maurelle moved slowly along the narrow passageways, pushing aside a crouched Ignisian handing out meager meals to the prisoners.
Wrapping her thin fingers around the cool iron bars, she smiled wickedly at Marie.
“Are you ready to do as I asked?”
Marie peered up at the queen through a tattered, moldy blanket wrapped around her trembling shoulders and returned the coy grin. “You know me better than that, Highness. Are you afraid, Maurelle? Afraid Killian might be getting more powerful and just maybe he’ll defeat your warped, twisted mission?” Marie stood up. Her hips ached from sleeping on the hard stones for so long, and her dirty Deshuit robes hung lose around her thinning frame.
“You look terrible,” Maurelle said coolly. “You forget, Marie, I’ve seen Killian in action. He is nothing without the help of others and can hardly control himself. Of course, this is something you would know if you’d been present in your child’s life.”
Marie released a strange hiss as she rushed toward the bars and pushed her pale face through the space so she was only inches from the perfect porcelain face of the queen.
“Hmm, I see I hit a nerve,” Maurelle said, sighing.
“I’ll destroy you!”
Maurelle laughed wildly. “Oh, I seriously doubt that, Marie.”
“What more do you want?” Marie slammed her fists against the bars.
Maurelle’s face darkened and she leaned in close. “I want Infinium destroyed. And then I want the entire Thomas family to watch as I destroy the place they descend from. Terrene will pay for your family’s betrayal of my father.”
“You’re so blind to what your father had become. Infinium was created because of him.”
Maurelle’s glare seared through the dim light. Thrusting her palm forward, she shot a blast of silver mist into the cell. Marie fell to the cold stone floor, gasping for air as she struggled against an invisible, suffocating force.
“Infinium was created by a mad man,” Maurelle whispered darkly. “You were the foolish one, Marie, to develop the power again. When Killian is destroyed, it will be your fault. What mother curses her child with such an uncontrollable, evil distortion of pure magic?”
Maurelle unclenched her fist and the mist retracted from Marie’s chest. She rolled to one side and coughed against the power. The tears fell freely as she took in Maurelle’s words. It was true; she had impregnated the relic and then abandoned Killian with the power. It was foolish and dangerous to leave her young child with such a burden.
“Despite what I think of your parenting choices, there is someone worse than you. Bring her in.” Maurelle signaled to two somber, cloaked guards. They quickly turned through the solid door and returned with a woman covered with a black hood.
Maurelle sauntered toward her and ripped the hood from her head. Smiling at her bruised, tear streaked face, Maurelle locked eyes with her.
“Hello, Laura, nice of you to join us here. I
hope you will prove quite useful. Does something about my appearance bother you?” Maurelle’s voice darkened as she dragged a pale finger over Laura’s cheek.
Laura stole a final glance at the queen’s bright silver eyes before turning away. Quickly, she shook her head and lowered her eyes to the floor. Maurelle nodded toward the cell and the guards tossed Laura into the small cage with Marie.
“I thought you’d like to meet the woman who not only raised your boy, but betrayed him as well.” Maurelle smiled at Marie and tossed her a small stone sharpened like a knife. “For your entertainment; I’m sure you know how Killian was treated in her home. Don’t say I didn’t give you anything.”
Maurelle laughed maniacally at Laura’s terrified expression until she slammed the door behind her.
The underground tunnels were cold and Maurelle resented them. She smiled thinking of the day they would surface and reclaim her beloved realm. Dalia had made sure the brainwashed Cimmerian recruits living in the Praetorium guarded her palace to prevent her from returning to Cimmerian.
“Fools,” she said out loud pushing open the black cherry wood door to her exquisite chamber.
“Who is?”
Maurelle whipped around surprised to hear another voice. Smiling, she rushed toward Blake and kissed him slowly.
“The Ponderi think they are hindering me by overtaking the palace. I find it foolish of them to think I would remain in the palace while we gathered our allies. It angers me thinking how they must view themselves more powerful than me by guarding my home.” She said once she pulled away.
Blake shrugged and sat in a large black chair. He absentmindedly stoked a dark flamed fire that morphed into different shades of black, purple, and blue with each flicker. “Don’t let them take up any more of your thought. We’re going to destroy them.”
Maurelle sensed his darkness as a wicked grin crossed his face. She could see a familiarity between Blake’s darkness and the power consuming her Uncle Rowan before he murdered her father. Shuddering the memories away, she wrapped her slender arms around the back of Blake’s neck.
“I appreciate the gift of the woman. I’m sure it will add to Killian’s desire to come to the rescue. Even after all she’s done, he won’t be able to resist trying to save her, but I thought you were going to come back immediately after finding the scroll. You’ve been gone for several days.”
“Are you upset?” Blake asked, spinning around in the chair.
“You know how critical the scroll is. I was concerned something had happened.”
“I brought Laura to help make up for that fool’s mishaps with the scroll.” Blake let out a soft growl of frustration. “Bant was a worthless twit and was seen by Gwyniera’s guards as well as two Ponderi recruits stationed as protection for Glaciem. He really shouldn’t have been on such a mission.”
“Where is the scroll?” Maurelle asked hungrily. Blake smirked before taking the blackened parchment from inside his jacket. As if it evaporated into nothing, the scroll was out of his hand and reappeared on a small table next to Maurelle. Slowly, she unrolled the parchment and scanned the writings.
“Does it show the gateway?”
Maurelle nodded as she scanned the scroll. “It is more complex than I imagined. Eldora made sure to place very strategic magic to prevent it from opening.”
“You will be able to open it, right?”
Maurelle’s silver eyes flashed in a glower. “I will get back what is rightfully mine. Eldora was no fool though, and is skilled with the magic of Cimmerian. Call in one of the guards outside the door.”
Blake’s brow furrowed but he did as she asked, and soon a tall Cimmerian guard followed him in. The guard lowered his eyes as if afraid to look at Maurelle and stopped near the door.
“Come forward,” Maurelle commanded with firmness, but still keeping the sweet poetic voice she had practiced for so many years.
Nervously, the guard made his way closer to his queen.
“What is your name?” she asked.
“Vesper, Your Highness. How may I serve you?”
“Vesper, I would like you to read aloud the words on this scroll.”
Maurelle placed her hands on his upper arms, ignoring his flinch from her touch, and moved him in front of the table with the open scroll.
“May I ask what the purpose is?” Vesper’s voice trembled.
“The purpose is to serve your queen.” Maurelle’s silver eyes brightened in frightening fury. “Now do it, or shall I dispose of you and find one more true and faithful?”
“No, Your Highness. Forgive me. I meant no disrespect.”
Licking his lips, Vesper swallowed hard and scanned the scroll. His silver eyes seemed confused as he examined the document.
“The ancient language,” he said under his breath before glancing up at Maurelle and Blake. “I’ll read as best I can, but I have not spoken the language for so long. Mork forbande tage…” Vesper cleared his throat and met Maurelle with frightened eyes as he finished translating the words. “The dark curse takes the souls of those whom seek.”
A frightening hiss filled the small room and the scroll rolled in on itself, sealing the words from their eyes. A strange gurgle spewed up from the table as a shadowy mist billowed and the hissing grew louder. Blake backed away and Maurelle stared on in awe at the blackness that rose from the parchment. Vesper backed against the wall, his mouth gaping open in terror as the thick hissing blackness sailed toward him, wrapping around his head.
To those outside in the damp hallways, the screams of pain and terror shocked them to the core, but Blake practically smiled at the sight and Maurelle continued to watch with a strange fascination as the blackness encompassed Vesper, completely hiding his face from their view.
All at once, the hissing stopped and the black mist dissipated into the air. Vesper was face down on the stone floor, and slowly Maurelle made her way toward him.
“Vesper.” He didn’t move. Maurelle tapped his shoulder with her foot, rolling him onto his back. Gasping, she jumped back and Blake released a low laugh that seemed more like a growl.
Vesper’s pale face had turned into a bluish gray with purple veins bulging through his skin. His mouth was stained with deep burgundy blood dripping from both corners, but his silver eyes were what surprised Maurelle the most. The once vibrant color was now completely black, almost as if his eyes were missing. But they were there, only completely void of any light or life, simply two black pits of darkness in Vesper’s lifeless body.
“He’s dead,” Maurelle said more to herself than Blake.
“Brilliant for getting someone else to say the words first,” Blake said without concern for the fallen guard. “I’m curious what kind of power was in that mist; it did a number on him.”
“Eldora was more powerful than I imagined, creating such a cursed object,” Maurelle said as she picked up the scroll, once again an innocent roll of parchment.
“Why, thank you, Your Highness. I’ve always felt the same.”
Blake stood and aimed his cross bow loaded with two silver arrows at the darkened corner.
“Put your weapon down, boy.”
They watched as an old haggard woman stood. She was missing most of her teeth and had white braided hair resting in stringy mats over her hunched shoulders.
“Who are you, hag?” Blake shouted.
“Hush, Blake,” Maurelle hissed. Turning toward the hag, she let out a low chuckle. “Good to see you, Eldora. I must say this is a good look for you. Are you comfortable this way or would you like to face me as you really are?”
The hag smiled and swept one of her palms across her body. As her hand passed over her frail frame, her appearance changed. Slowly, her back straightened and her matted white hair billowed in long ebony waves. Her wrinkled skin smoothed to pale porcelain and her yellow bloodshot eyes were now a piercing silver. Her tattered clothes transformed around her tall frame into black robes tied around her with a purple sash. The silver in her eyes was
fiercer than Maurelle’s, as if she had a strange force locked inside her begging to be released.
“Blake, meet Eldora.”
Blake said nothing, but met her raging eyes with smug arrogance.
“My, you have such blackness. What caused you to turn to darkness so quickly?” she cocked her head with genuine intrigue.
Blake glared at her, but seemed compelled to answer. “The Ponderi exploit people for their gifts, but only for what they want. They would have never allowed me to meet my full potential, so I joined with the one person who saw me for what I truly am.”
Eldora raised an eyebrow. “What a pity your parents paid the price. Killing them is a stain on your soul you can never return from.”
Blake cleared his throat and appeared pained as he resisted speaking. “They were just like the Ponderi, wanting me to serve blindly. Not truly valuing me for who and what I am.”
Eldora shrugged as if bored with the conversation. “I caution you to not allow it to overtake you. I saw your work on your fellow Trinity member in Glaciem. Cutthroat. While I appreciate power, you are more dangerous than I’d like to see.” Turning toward Maurelle, she continued “Be careful with this one.”
“I don’t need your approval, old woman,” Blake seethed suddenly released from the compulsion Eldora had placed upon him. “The queen is able to make her own judgments.”
Suddenly, Blake grabbed his throat, gasping for breath. He lowered to his knees. Eldora held out a palm, squeezing the air tighter.
“Enough, Eldora, speak with me. That is why you’ve come, I assume?” Maurelle said.
Eldora lowered her palm and Blake took in a deep breath.
“Yes, my dear. It has been so many seasons since we’ve spoken.”
“Curious you’ve come just after I’ve taken your precious scroll.”
Eldora smiled. “You seem rather impressed with it.”
“I haven’t seen such dark magic since I was a young girl.”
Eldora nodded arrogantly and sat down at the table. “It was not easy to place such a curse on the scroll.”