by M. R. Forbes
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Other Books
Thank You
Shark Finning
About the Author
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Broken
The Divine, Book Three
M.R. Forbes
Copyright © 2013 M.R. Forbes
All rights reserved.
ISBN:
ISBN-13:
CHAPTER ONE
"Landon."
The voice was a whisper, an ethereal suggestion that registered somewhere in the depths of my soul, a vaguely understood siren's call.
"Landon."
A little stronger this time, almost loud enough for me to recognize the source. Almost loud enough for me to follow.
"Landon."
I heard it. I knew it. Sarah. She was calling me. I tried to open my eyes, but they didn't respond. They refused my command. Was I being Commanded? No. She was calling me, asking for me, but not demanding.
"Sarah?" I responded finally.
"Help me," came the reply.
Help her? I already had. As far as I knew, we were still laying on the old bed in the abandoned farmhouse where Dante had left us, not long before.
"Josette?" I called out for my angel, tried to focus and find her. I could feel my power, see the threads. They were still frayed from the damage the Beast had done, and I wasn't sure they would ever repair. It was such a tangled mess, I couldn't feel Josette anywhere. I could see her there, but it was as though she had been torn apart. Time was the only thing that would put us back together. Time we didn't have.
"Where are you?" I shouted out, searching for her. Her presence was a nudge, a tap, a sleight of hand.
I saw a point of light, and it began to spread, expanding outward until it appeared to me as a doorway. The door was fresh, new oak, but its surface held deep claw marks. I had never seen this kind of doorway before, but I knew what it was. Josette had said that was how she had found me, when the demon Reyzl was about to end my life. She had come through it, and she had saved me. Now I would save her daughter, again.
"I'm coming," I said, feeling myself floating towards the doorway. There was nothing else in my vision, just an infinite blackness, and the oak doorway floating in the ether. As I approached, I could hear the sobbing behind it. I put my hand up to it, ran my fingers across the deep grooves the claw marks had created. A sharp pain, and I drew my hand back, blood running from a sharp splinter. I focused, and it vanished. The wound vanished. The door opened.
There was nothing beyond it. A white, impenetrable light. I knew it for what it was; a transport from my soul to Sarah's.
I didn't hesitate to step through. I was blinded for a moment by the light, and then I was there, and she was there. We were in her Source, the place where her demonic heritage and her angelic heritage combined and her power pooled. I expected it to be a calm place, a peaceful place, a place of meaning to her. Josette's was the room she had lived in as a child. Mine was all of Purgatory; something I hadn't understood before, but I now knew was the result of tapping into the Beast's power. Power that had been leaking out into the realm for thousands of years.
Instead, it was a place of contrasts and chaos.
It was large, larger than I could have expected from anyone who was still technically mortal. A forest that stretched out around me, a mixture of dense, green vegetation and the greyness of death and decay. Green vines snaked around rotted tree trunks, while dry, brittle branches threatened to snap and drop from otherwise healthy growth. The sky was both heavy and blue, with thick clouds racing unnaturally across a bright morning sky. In the distance, I could hear birds calling. In the distance, I could hear animals screaming.
I could also hear the sobbing, and I followed it into the foliage, stepping carefully past the corpses of squirrels and rabbits, and sending their living counterparts scurrying away. A blast of thunder shook the earth below me, and I heard a snarl from the trees to my left.
"Landon," came the cry, from up ahead. It was sharper now, more desperate. I scanned the trees for the source of the snarl, but couldn't see anything. I started running, not even noticing the thick mist that had begun to fill in around me.
My feet pounded the dirt even as the rain began to fall, and in moments the dry turf was a muddy mess. I had to strain to pull myself forward, to get my feet out of the muck and keep moving. Another snarl, this time on my right. She was calling to me for help, but there was something here. Something that wanted to stop me.
I saw a clearing through a copse of bramble, with a small, open pagoda resting in the center. I could see her through the vines, kneeling there, her head in her hands. I didn't hesitate, didn't slow. My body crashed into the vines, into the thorns, and they ripped and tore into me, doing their best to impede my rescue. For a second, I thought I was hooked, as I pressed into the bramble and it pulled back against me, gripping me tightly in a thousand fingers of sharp pain. I focused, strengthening my will, grunted and shoved forward. I could feel the thorns release, and I stumbled out into the clearing, the blood running down into my eyes, down onto my hands, down to fall at my feet.
"Sarah," I said, approaching her, looking on her with bleary eyes. The rain soaked into me, mixing with the blood and diluting it, the effect causing my entire body to run red.
Her head lifted slowly. Here in her Source she had eyes, a striking red and gold that was muted in her pain. I could see them dilate when she began to focus on me. They were swollen from her sobs.
"Landon," she replied, her voice little more than a whisper. "You came for me."
I reached the edge of the pagoda, nearly under its stacked roof and out of the rain. The mist was flowing around my feet and rising, but the inside stayed dry and unaffected.
"I always will," I replied. I lifted my left foot, preparing it to take the final step onto the bamboo floor of the structure, to join Sarah in the comfort and safety of the structure.
Her eyes widened like a frightened doe, and I felt the presence beside me before I heard the snarl. Something slammed into my side, powerful and sharp. It dug into my flesh, deep into my lungs, before the force threw me away from Sarah.
I didn't cry out as I hit the wet, misty ground and slid through the mud, blood pouring from the wound. I succeeded in taking a haggard breath, but I could almost feel the air leaking out while my left lung deflated. I focused, willing myself to heal, reaching for a power I couldn't hold. This was Sarah's Source,
not mine. I had no power here.
I heard it coming for me, splashing through the rain. I reached up and wiped my eyes, trying to get the water and blood out of them. I couldn't get a good look at my attacker through the distorted blur, but I could see they were right on top of me. Desperate, I reached out, finding a tree branch at the tips of my fingers. I gathered my strength and heaved myself towards it, moving just enough to wrap my hand around its bulk. My assailant was in the air, pouncing towards me. I gripped the branch and swung it upwards.
The branch connected, and then shattered, scattering in hundreds of rotted pieces. My enemy was unharmed, and they landed on me, crushing down on my ribs and cracking them below the pressure. Now I cried out in pain, searching inward, begging for Josette or even Ulnyx to somehow find a way to save me. My words fell empty. They weren't there.
I heard another snarl, and felt a claw rip into my face, slashing deep wounds across my cheek. Another cry, but I got my hand up in time to block the opposing blow. I blinked desperately, trying to improve my sight, trying to get a look at my attacker. The water cleared from my eyes, and it was nearly enough to stop my defense.
It was Sarah.
My mind reeled, trying to figure out how Sarah could be crying in the pagoda, and straddling my chest beating the crap out of me at the same time. Had she lured me here to attack me? Was this just another one of the Beast's tricks? The pain in my lungs, the pain in my ribs, the pain in my face made it hard to think.
"Sarah," I squeaked, trying to get her attention, to reason with her. Her arm came down, and I blocked it. She used her other arm to bat mine away. Another blow, another gash in my face.
I blinked again, and I looked into her face. It was cold, so cold. An anger and fear so white hot that it had frozen. The rain dripped from her face, disguising her tears, but I could see them there on the edges of deep, dark, red-gold eyes. I started to raise my hands again to defend myself, but decided against it. I had no power here, no strength to defeat her. If she wanted to kill me, she could kill me. Fighting would only make it worse.
I took as deep of a breath as I could and let myself relax, feeling my body sink further into the muck. Sarah sat above me, her hate-filled eyes peering down. She snarled and wheezed, her breath coming out in chunks, her body convulsing from the effort.
"Get off of him," came the shout from behind her. Sarah shifted on me, turning her body to look back. At Sarah. What the hell was going on?
Sarah sat on top of me, her legs pressed down on my broken ribs, her claws raised above my face. Sarah walked towards her, sunlight trailing behind, the mist dissipating where she stepped. Her brown ringlets bounced with each footfall, silhouetting and framing her face, enhancing her calm, gentle, beautiful presence.
"I said get off," she repeated, her voice soft and forceful.
The other Sarah turned back and looked down at me again, her hate-filled eyes softening. Without a word, she slipped off of me and backed away, taking up position behind Sarah, who knelt down and put her hand against my forehead.
"I'm sorry, Landon," she said. Her eyes were still puffy from crying. "Please, help me."
There was a warmth from her hand on my head, and the pain vanished. The blood vanished. The rain and the mist and the thunder vanished. The hint of death and decay remained, but it had been subdued. Sarah had found the strength to resist.
"Help you?" I asked, shoving myself to my elbows, looking at the two Sarahs and trying to make sense of it. "You just helped me."
There was only sadness in her eyes. "For now," she replied. "I don't know how long I can control it."
"What is it?"
She looked back at the other Sarah, crouched behind her, claws planted in the dirt.
"She's me. The other part of me. My secret shame. I am a true diuscrucis, brother. The blood of the angel, Josette and the demon, Gervais courses through my mortal veins. The war out there is reflected in my soul, a war within myself. A fight for control. She is always with me, and I am always with her."
She reached back and put her hand on the other Sarah's head, gently stroking her hair.
"You fight?" I asked.
"Yes. Whenever I am asleep, we fight. It's not always physical. Sometimes, she haunts my dreams. Sometimes, I haunt hers. It is so hard to find peace, so hard to be normal. I've fought it for so long. My entire life I've fought it."
We all had our good sides, and our bad sides. Whether we just woke up grumpy one morning, had a bad day, or maybe something good happened. It wasn't so literal for most of us. Not that the two Sarahs were any more real - her soul was split, balanced as good and evil. As she had said, much like the outside world. All it would take is a push in one direction or another. Just one little shove.
"What can I do?" I asked.
I'd never imagined this was how she was living her life. She had never spoken to me of her inner turmoil, her struggle against her evil nature. Or was it a struggle against her good nature? One side of her was in control right now, but what about the scratches on the doorway to her Source?
She shook her head. "I can't be trusted," she said. "What happened with Rebecca, with the Beast. All of those people..." She took her hands away from the other Sarah, and used them to bury her face again, to let her soul cry out in pain for the lives she had taken.
I got to my feet and approached her, but she backed away.
"I don't want your pity. Not here," she said, taking a deep breath and catching herself. She looked up at me. "I want your help."
"Help to do what?" I asked. "I don't understand what you're looking for?"
"Just listen to me, brother," she said. "I was ready to kill myself for the Beast, to kill everyone for my release from this personal hell. He promised me when I died he could bring me back, the true, singular, balanced me. He promised that I would find peace, and that when he was done with this world he would leave me in charge, to do with it as I wished while he went to destroy something else. He told me I could bring them back, bring you back, if that was what I desired. All I had to do was serve him, by killing you and Charis, and then killing myself."
"He was lying to you," I said.
She shook her head. "I would have known if he were lying. He was not."
"Then why help me? Why help us escape?"
"You are hearing, but you are not listening. Balance, brother. When Rebecca brought me to Gervais, I became angry, so very angry. Not only for what he did to me, but what he did to my people." She reached back and grabbed the other Sarah by the arm, pulling her roughly to her feet. "This one here took control. She held out my fingers, and they became claws. She used them to carve out his eyes."
The other Sarah smiled. "He deserved it," she said, speaking at last.
I remembered what I had felt when I saw the underground city in ruins, its inhabitants scattered in a gory mess. I remembered Gervais' cold confidence when I had confronted him, his needling words and twisted jokes. He did deserve it.
"I cannot say if he deserved it," Sarah said. "This part of me says that he didn't. That no thing deserves to suffer, no matter what they have done."
"You fought me," the other Sarah said, looking at Sarah. "All of the time I could feel you trying to get back, to take control."
"Yes. Until I saw mother," she agreed. She looked at me. "I thought you had killed her, and taken her. I lost the will to fight against it when that happened. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I'm sorry," I said. "I wanted to tell you, but I was trying to protect you. I thought the truth would hurt more."
"The truth never hurts more," they both said at once. I had learned the hard way.
"I'm sorry," I said again.
"I know, brother," Sarah said. "That is why I called to you. That is why I need your help. She is able to kill, and have no remorse for doing so. She is able to be selfish, and have no regrets." Her eyes began to well with tears again. "I am not she, and I cannot bear the pair of the remorse, the agony of the regrets. I don't know how, and I fe
ar in my weakness I will not be able to prevent her from taking over again. She would have just now, if you had not arrived when you did."
It was a chilling thought. What would have happened if she had woken up while I was still asleep? If she had found me there, unprotected? If she had found Charis there? What would she have done, knowing the Beast wanted us all dead?
I reached out for her again, but again she backed away. "No, brother. Please. I am not worthy to be touched. I'm not worthy to be loved."
I felt my own tears threatening at the statement. I looked at them both. "You aren't evil, Sarah. The Beast used you. He knew what would happen. He knew you would lose control." The Beast's thirst for destruction wasn't limited to the physical.
Another step. She backed away from me again. "You know what I did. How can you love me?"
My mind flashed back to the sight of the bodies, spread out on the steps of St. Patrick's, dead at her Command. The thought made me angry, and beyond sad. I had promised her I would protect her. I had promised her mother I would protect her, and keep her safe from the evil we all knew she possessed, though I had never imagined it would take such a form. I wasn't angry at her. I was angry at myself. I had let her down. I had ignored the problem when it had first arisen, and she had paid the price.
"It wasn't your fault," I said. "It was mine. I wasn't there for you. I promised I would protect you, and I broke my promise."
She stared at me, her eyes flaring in red and gold. The other Sarah watched me as well, and then leaped towards me with a snarl.
I was ready for it. I caught her wrist in my hand, twisted and pulled her, circling around behind her. I held her arms crossed over her body, and brought her in close, holding her tightly.
"It isn't your fault either," I whispered into her ear. "You didn't ask to be here. Neither of you asked to be like this. It was the pain of what Gervais did to you that caused this. If the Beast told him to have you, he surely told him how to break you. You deserve to be whole."
I spun her around, keeping my grip on her, and pulling her into me. She struggled for a moment, and then relaxed into my shoulder. Sarah approached us cautiously, afraid to be close to her counterpart. When she was close enough, I reached out and pulled her in.