Inferno of Darkness (Order of the Blade)

by Stephanie Rowe

  “I think you’re the one not thinking clearly.” Elisha coughed, and urgency coursed through Dante. “Don’t you get it?” he shouted. “I’ll kill you, and then you can’t save anyone else! Is that your mission? To die and leave the earth unprotected? Is it? Save her and help us close the veil! There’s time to stop her later!” But even as he spoke, the sword burned in his palm, and his skin began to smoke. Dark, fierce resolution tore through him, along with the need to open that veil, to release all that it held back. Swearing, he looked at Rohan. “Do you feel what’s going through me? What is it, great seer? What the fuck do I feel?”

  Rohan’s energy pulsed at him, and then he swore. “The woman is all that keeps the sword from consuming you completely.”

  “If she dies, it takes me. And if it takes me, I’m going to open that veil and let all that shit into our world.” Dante clutched Elisha closer, fighting the images in his head of the veil opening, of a massive dark shadow streaking out of the volcano, of darkness descending upon them all. “And then, you will have failed in the only thing that matters to you, because you won’t be able to stop me, not when I’m using this sword, and you know it. Your only chance is to work with us, not against us.”

  For a long moment, Rohan did not move, and then with a sound like air being sucked into a vacuum, he sheathed his weapons. “Bring her to me.”

  Satisfaction burned through Dante as he sprinted toward the other Calydon. They both went down on their knees as they came together, and Rohan placed his hands over Elisha’s chest.

  His hands glowed a golden color, and he nodded at Dante. Together, they chanted the words that he’d trusted Dante with so long ago, when Rohan had needed Dante’s help to save the one person who had mattered to him. Words so powerful that the earth shuddered beneath them, words that were powerless if chanted alone, words that gained their power from the sharing of spirits, powerful spirits, warrior spirits. Rohan was the last of his kind, and Dante was the only one he’d found powerful enough to assist in the chant.

  Together, they fought for Elisha. Together, they battled for the chance to defeat the sword.

  Rohan’s hands glowed even brighter, as they continued the chant.

  Dante waited for the first flecks of blue to appear on Rohan’s hands, but they didn’t. His palms simply stayed gold. Elisha sagged against his chest, her body now streaked with black shadows among the blue. “What’s wrong? Why isn’t it working?”

  Rohan shook his head. “She’s too powerful in her own right. I can’t override it. We need more strength. We need more than we can generate.”

  “Shit!” Dante focused harder, chanting more loudly, and he felt Rohan do the same. The other Calydon’s urgency was obvious, as he apparently now understood the immediate cost if Elisha died, but Dante had nothing to ground him.

  “We need more,” Rohan said. “Where is Louis? The Calydon you were hunting?”

  Dante didn’t bother to ask how Rohan knew he’d been after Louis. “Dead.” But even as he said the words, he thought of the young Calydon who had tried to join him, the one brimming with such anger and fire. Hope rushed through him and he immediately reached out with his mind, seeking to connect with the younger warrior. Zach. It’s your time. Come. Now.

  There was a sudden burst of white-hot energy in his mind, a searing flash of anguish so penetrating it was like his soul had been ripped into fragments. Zach’s suffering was so extreme, so debilitating that Dante stopped in shock. Never had he felt such despair and grief from another Calydon, except from Rohan when they’d first met. Rohan, who was deadly, unpredictable, and the only warrior Dante trusted.

  His father would have killed Zach instantly, slitting his throat rather than allowing such emotion to bleed into the earth, but that emotion, that pain, that grief…it was the power Dante needed. It was the power that none of the prior Order members had possessed. It was the power of the soul. Zach! He thrust his energy toward the younger warrior, fierce and relentless. Look at this woman! He focused his gaze on Elisha, and his own gut wrenched when he saw her so limp in his arms. Her skin was ashen, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Jesus. She was dying. Anguish tore through him, and this time, it wasn’t Zach’s. It was his own.

  Grimly, knowing it was the only way to reach the warrior who could save her, Dante accepted his own grief and shared it with Zach. She’s dying, Zach, and we can’t save her without your help. She’s an innocent.

  There was a strangled bellow of grief from Zach, and Dante saw the images flash through his mind of the family that had been murdered only hours ago. Zach’s family. Get the fuck out of my head!

  I need you! Dante held Elisha tighter, letting Zach feel his pain, forcing the younger warrior to feel the gradual fade of her spirit. You couldn’t save those you love, but you can save this woman. Are you really going to let her die?

  Another crash of despair so agonizing that Dante had to shield himself from it to keep from collapsing. Zach. He sent a push at the other warrior, a command. You survived for a reason, Zach. You owe it to your family to save others. With each life you save, you honor their death. Get up, pull yourself together, and get your ass over here. Now. Or Elisha’s death will be on your shoulders far more than your family’s. You were not able to save them, but at least you tried. If you don’t try now, then it’s a violation of your family’s belief in you. Come. Now.

  He sent the last word as an unyielding order, calling upon the guilt, anguish, and other emotions that his father would have deemed an unforgivable weakness. He called upon them, using them to galvanize the kind of response that could only be driven by a warrior who was truly alive in his soul. Tormented, yes, but alive.

  For a moment, he felt only Zach’s pulsating grief and guilt. Then suddenly, there was a surge of fury. I’m coming. In the distance, in the direction of the village, there was a sudden explosion, flames reaching up as high as the trees, a ball of fire that exploded through the night, streaking through the woods at unbelievable speed.

  Satisfaction pulsed through Dante as he looked back at Rohan. “He’s on his way.”

  Rohan was watching the fire searing the night. “He needs to learn to control that,” he observed. “But there is much power within him. More than he knows.”

  “I agree.”

  Dante watched as the fireball rolled toward them, burning through the vegetation. So much anger in the kid, and so much emotion. Too much, in fact. The youth was out of control, unable to contain his energy. He was violent and wild, with no discipline. He had no chance to become Order, to be the warrior that Dante needed him to be.

  But he was also their only hope.

  Chapter Ten

  Zach arrived in a raging fireball of orange and red flames. It exploded around them with a loud crack, showering the clearing with sparks that sizzled and hissed on the dry ground. Dante swore and covered Elisha with his body, letting the sparks hit his back instead of her. “Take it down,” he yelled at Zach. “You’re going to start a forest fire!”

  Zach stumbled as the fireball released him, his knees bloodied and raw as he fought for balance. He glanced vaguely around the clearing, as if trying to comprehend what Dante had just said. Dante swore, shocked by how far Zach had sunk in just the few hours since he’d lost his family to Louis. The warrior was bruised and battered, all his wounds as open and raw as they’d been before. He hadn’t healed himself at all.

  Zach’s body was streaked with blood, and his eyes were empty pits of grief so deep that it had turned his face into sunken gray shadows. For a split second, Dante felt pity for him, for the grief and anguish that could strip a man of all he was in a matter of hours. Zach’s head swiveled around, and his gaze finally fell upon Dante. His eyes seemed to focus, and he shook his head, as if to clear it. “What?”

  Dante realized how out-of-control Zach had allowed himself to become, and he began to doubt whether Zach would be able to focus enough to help them. Shit. Zach was their only chance! He had to bring the kid
back. “Your sparks are burning up the clearing,” he said, keeping his voice calm and focused, as he continued to hold Elisha, counting the seconds between each of her breaths, knowing that they were almost out of time. “Fix it.”

  Zach swung his head around to look. He seemed barely able to comprehend it, but he finally raised his left hand. There was a loud, violent burst of energy, and then the flames died out, sputtering and angry, as if they were bitter that their master had sucked their lives from them. Zach turned back to Dante, his shoulders hunched and bent. Dante saw he’d marked himself with ancient designs across his chest, the signs of honoring a dead loved one. Zach had used symbols Dante was sure hadn’t been used in centuries, symbols dating back to the days before the Order even existed. How had the younger warrior even learned about them?

  For a split second, he wondered if there was more to Zach than he’d first sensed…but he had no time for that. Not now. “To your knees,” he commanded.

  Flames appeared to be flickering weakly in the younger warrior’s dark eyes as he looked down and saw Elisha. For a split second, he stared blankly at her, then sudden fury exploded from him in a surge of black smoke, and his eyes seemed to ignite. “Who hurt her?” he snapped as he dropped to his knees beside her. “What fucking hurt her?” His voice was laced with that same, unchained fury that Dante had seen earlier. So much anger and emotion in him. Too much. Shit. Dante’s instinct was to shut the kid down, but that was what they needed right now. Power.

  “Stay focused and use your energy to heal her,” Dante said instead, willing a calming energy toward Zach. “We need to save her. Follow our lead.”

  Zach looked sharply at Dante, and then he nodded, keeping his gaze fixed on Dante, as if he could sense the control that Dante was offering him. Flames seemed to shimmer beneath his skin, but he didn’t ignite, somehow containing the fire that raged within him.

  “Now.” Again, Rohan set his hands on Elisha’s chest, his palms glowing gold almost immediately. Dante resumed his position, and Zach mimicked his stance. As Rohan began to chant again, Dante joined in. For a moment, Zach merely watched Dante intently, boldly probing Dante’s mind for the words. Dante resisted the urge to shut him out, and instead showed Zach what he wanted him to do. Zach immediately joined in the chant, his deep voice vibrating with more power and strength than Dante had even hoped for.

  The rush of energy flooded them, and Rohan nodded at Dante, both of them realizing that they had vastly underestimated the magnitude of Zach’s power. Together, they summoned their healing energy, the rhythmic chant rising in crescendo, Zach echoing them. The power of the trio rose and streaked through them, like a fierce, dark force crushing them, bearing down on their flesh with more and more pressure. For a long, agonizing moment, Rohan’s hands stayed gold, the power not transferring to Elisha. Panic hammered at Dante. “Elisha!” He shouted her name and thrust every last bit of power he had into her. “Come back to me!”

  Suddenly, there were streaks of blue light across his knuckles. Rohan whooped, and relief rushed through Dante as he watched the first streaks of gold begin to flash over Elisha’s skin, signaling that the energy was beginning to shift between Rohan and Elisha: his poison returning to him, and his healing light penetrating her. Son of a bitch. Zach’s added strength had made the difference.

  Dante grinned at Zach. Thank you.

  Did you kill her? Because I’m still going to kill whoever hurt her. Zach didn’t look up, and he didn’t even pause in his fierce chant, but his skin began to flicker even more.

  Dante watched him grimly, knowing the warrior was a breath away from exploding and destroying everything around him, the mark of a liability, not an asset. Instinctively, he moved his shoulder in front of Zach, blocking Elisha from him as the three of them continued to chant. Dante reached out with his mind to his woman, searching for a response, but her mind was quiet, not answering. Elisha. Come back to me. I need you. He couldn’t keep the urgency out of his voice, the rising tension as the sword pulsed more fiercely at him. He could feel the mountain’s pressure building, summoning him and the sword to the peak. Swearing, Dante buried his face in her hair, fighting desperately against the summons. He would not leave her. He would not leave her.

  Rohan’s voice rose, and the night grew brighter. His golden light filled the air as he swiftly stripped the blue light from Elisha. It flooded his body and spilled over into Dante, who had already steeled himself for the assault. “Watch it,” he warned Zach belatedly…too late.

  The younger warrior sucked in his breath and his body went rigid, fighting against the brutal sensation of pain that Dante knew he was feeling. The first time he’d felt Rohan’s energy it had nearly killed him. Come on, Zach. Stay with us.

  Zach looked at him, fierce determination on his face as sudden flames erupted from his body. Dante swore at the heat and leaned forward, using his upper body to shield Elisha from the fire. What the fuck are you doing?

  Staying alive. That shit’s powerful. I need to burn it up.

  Chant! Rohan’s command broke through the moment, and both Calydons focused on it, the three deep voices joining together in the ancient ritual melody. As he chanted, Dante sent his own healing energy into Elisha. It would not help with Rohan’s curse, but he had to shield her from Zach’s fire, which was glowing even brighter. The flames had not burned Zach, but they were hot enough to incinerate the rest of them. Pain burned his flesh, and he saw Elisha’s skin darken as well. “Hurry,” Dante shouted at Rohan.

  Rohan said nothing, but there was another burst of power from him, and the blue and golden light began to crackle like a dozen lightning bolts slamming down around them. Zach’s flames grew higher. Elisha’s skin shifted from blue to gold. The blue that had been stripped from her body coursed through them all as the warriors jointly took it from her. Dante’s skin began to blister from Zach’s flames, and the sword burned his hand, urging him to use it against Zach and stop him before he could burn them all up. Dante gritted his teeth and held Elisha tighter against him, focusing only on her, on her spirit, on her strength, on their connection, knowing that she was all that stood between him and the lethal future that the sword was guiding him inexorably toward.

  ***

  Dante’s presence burst into her mind with sudden warmth. Elisha gasped, then coughed as air rushed back into her body.

  “Elisha.” His voice seemed to fill her with life, with energy, with strength, and she opened her eyes.

  Dante was leaning over her, his face gaunt with concern, even as he smiled. “Welcome back, sweetheart.”

  She touched his face, needing to know that it was real, that somehow, someway, he’d pulled her back. His skin was warm and rough, his whiskers prickling her fingers. “Dante? I thought I was dead.”

  His smile faded. “You were close.” His arms tightened around her, and she became aware that she was on his lap, wrapped in his embrace. “How do you feel?”

  “I’m okay.” Her body ached, and she felt weak, but definitely alive. “What happened?” But even as she asked the question, she remembered Rohan’s sword plunging into her chest. Instinctively, she grabbed for her chest, but there was no sword there. Not even a mark. “Did Roha—”

  Then she saw him, kneeling beside Dante. Fear tore through her and she lunged to her feet, scrambling to get the Blade of Cormoranth from the folds of her dress. She held up the knife, backing away, her heart pounding. Her breath was wheezing in her chest, and her legs were still dangerously weak. “You killed me!” Behind him stood another warrior who had stepped back, orange and red flames cascading from his body and dancing in the night air.

  “Hey.” Dante stood up quickly, moving between her and the others as he slipped his arm around her waist, holding her up. “It’s okay, Elisha. They’re on our side.”

  “He killed me.” She didn’t take her gaze off Rohan, who was still down on one knee. His hood was still covering his face, but his head was turned at such an angle that she knew he was watchi
ng her. Dark energy was surging around him, like a deadly smoke that was oozing from his pores. But it wasn’t smoke. It was a mist that was almost alive…

  “Yeah, but then he saved your life. In guy speak, that means we’re good.” Dante squeezed her around the waist. “Don’t kill him yet, sweetheart. We need his help. We need both their help. Kill him later, okay?”

  His voice was so strained and tense that it wrenched her from her panic. She looked sharply at him, her arm already trembling with fatigue from holding the blade. “What’s wrong?” Her heart was pounding now in fear for her life, fear for Dante, and fear of everything spinning out of control around her. She felt like her brain was still foggy, and she couldn’t clear her thoughts. “Are you okay?”

  In answer, he raised his hand. Clenched in his fist was the sword from the queen’s darkness. His knuckles were already black with taint. His hand was trembling slightly, and the tendons in his forearms were so taut they strained against his skin.

  Cold terror seemed to plunge into her bones. “Oh my God. Dante!” She put her hand over his, and felt the cold bite of her world. “Put it down!”

  “I can’t.” His voice was grim. “I can’t get my hand off it.”

  She looked more closely, and saw that his skin had fused to the hilt, becoming a part of it. “Oh, no.” She spun around to look at the mountain, and saw that the flames were billowing up to the heavens, and streams of lava were cascading down the side of the mountain. There weren’t even any footpaths left to climb. The path to the top of the mountain was directly through the deadly heat and fire. “It’s too late.” She gripped his arm, staring at the mountain as anguish filled her. “We’ve lost our chance. There’s no way to get into the mountain alive anymore. The lava will kill you.” Tears burned in her eyes, and her throat tightened with anguish as she held onto him, terrified to let him go. “The sword will take your body to the inferno within and sever the veil. You won’t survive long enough to redirect it.” How could it have gotten to this point? How could Dante die? How could this be happening?