The Dark Levy: Stories of the Nine Worlds (Ten Tears Chronicles - a dark fantasy action adventure Book 1)

by Alaric Longward

  I stared at the people. They were just like us. Old and somehow happier, people enjoying music, laughter, and I wondered if Odin had truly created them to be slaved. Midgard was their ancestral home, and I yearned to see it. ‘Can you take any such memory and make it so?’ I asked.

  ‘No, you won’t know what it is until the spell is cast,’ she told me, caressing the flames by my head, her hand ending up on my shoulder. ‘Ah, you think you could create your own. That you could alleviate your loneliness. Or are you making new memories, Shannon? This boy? Lex?’

  ‘Yes, mistress,’ I told her, hoping she would not be cruel and produce Lex’s head in an eye blink. However, I needed no memory of Lex for he was there for me. I missed Father and Mother. Grandma. Rose.

  ‘He is a beautiful human if scruffy and ill reared, is he not, and your first, no?’ she smiled benignly, making me shudder. ‘Ah, sorry, the boy in Trad had that distinction, no?’

  I kept still, swallowing my rage. ‘Yes, he was.’

  She grinned. ‘I have ever mulled about such love you humans have for each other. Fragile and dangerous, fleeting and bitter, yet you would make a thousand such dancing fires of the love you once felt and would gaze at them endlessly in your old age.’ She ran her fingers across the dancing figures, making them lose shape for a moment. ‘Don’t make a mistake, Shannon, now that we are so close. Be right to your mistress. If you fail, I shall make more than flames. I shall make artworks of pain and tears of the lot down below. You have seen the ones who have failed, in your first chambers. That was merciful. The release for the suffering Ten Tears would be years from now after a million tears have been shed. After the torture of loneliness, madness and pain. And your sister?’ She squeezed my face painfully, her point made. I nodded slowly. ‘You shall learn now. I will teach you, Shannon. You shall not heed your actual enemies, and it will be fine. And one day you will be free. All you need to do is think about the Eye of Hel and freedom, and it shall be so.’ She stared at me, and her manner betrayed sudden lust, desire, and she tried to say something.

  ‘Mistress, no, please,’ I whimpered.

  She shook her head, ripped my robe open and sunk her teeth into my neck, near where the Rot was already festering, the snakes entwining around me, holding me still. The pain was excruciating, savage, and painful, and my shoulder twitched and pinched as the Rot responded to its mistress, the plague giver.

  I suddenly saw Able, standing by the table, his eyes moist as he witnessed my pain and horror, then he was grinding his teeth in anger. His eyes probed my pained eyes, his hands clutched at the desk, and I shook my head at him, smiling through the pain. He grimaced and shook the table.

  I stared at him. He had left marks on the desk. His eyes betrayed the shock of it. Then they grew dark, and my eyes turned to the shelves.

  He growled and hit the wooden structure. He clawed at the shelves, his hits passing through them. Then, his eyes grew enraged as he saw my face lose color. He was shaking and shrieking at Euryale. He slammed his hand on the shelf. It connected. The shelves shook, the books were trembling and some fell.

  One was the blue book.

  Dust billowed up into the air. My eyes went to slits as I stared beyond the dark hole where the blue book had stood. A glow. Able had been right, perhaps. The dust was still blocking much of my sight.

  Euryale noticed nothing.

  I shook my head at Able, and he calmed slowly, alarmed by his rage, and my eyes begged him to relax. I endured the pain. While my mistress was feasting, the dust was growing less, and then I saw it. Behind a fallen cookbook, there was a book in shadows, one with a cover made of skin, elven, or human, I know not, but there was a closed eyelid in the middle of it. More, it sparkled with strange power, stranger colors. I grunted and cursed in agony, feeling my strength ebbing, and the bitch was not giving up. ‘Are you going to kill me?’ I winced as the excruciating pain throbbed in my side and head.

  She stroked my neck, shuddered reluctantly as she finished her meal, rising to her full height. She shook her snakes back and sat down with a sigh. ‘I am sorry, child. Sometimes, my better judgment runs away with wings of rage and hunger. But it is fine now, and I am sated. Yes. Heal yourself.’ I did, as I felt the power surging through me, and I gathered the icy and frigid energy and released it, feeling the familiar, bitterly freezing gust around me and the instant relief as my wounds closed, leaving me weak. I placed my head on the tome, trembling with silent agony and fatigue. She crouched next to me. ‘I can devour anything and anyone, girl. I can creep through the night and shadows to rip open a warrior’s throat. I can nip a mighty elf in his war splendor from his warship while he eats at his table; I can snub a baby’s life as quickly as I would rub off a stain of dirt. I am the Night Slayer, and they sing sad stories of my deeds. And sometimes, I act impulsively. We have time; the Rot is not too terrible yet. Cheer up. Do you think you could have beaten Isabella Colbert, for that was her name; had I not trained you well? She scorched you, and the pain of that should have killed the Shannon I grabbed from her miserable existence in the Tenth. Thanks to my training, you are able and fierce, girl, and can take the pain like a saa’dark should. With pride and purpose. You did well. I knew you would. You will be ready.’ She grasped my face. ‘You have been a victim all your life, Shannon. Now, you have grown past that.’

  ‘I’m still your victim,’ I said as calmly as I could.

  ‘Yes, but in that, you are in a large company,’ she laughed hollowly, her teeth red with my blood.

  With that, she did not touch me for a month. Curiously, the blue book stayed on the desk, but the desk was cluttered, and such a high being as she was, likely noticed nothing strange about the books stacked on the desk and the ones that had fallen. Happily, she had no need for the glowing book either. She would train me each and every day. She would force me to hold power, brutally, desperate for me to grow and learn, ever more and more power, sometimes while hurt, other times not, sometimes while reading. When that part was over, she let me study.

  However, never alone.

  I saw my quarry but could not touch it. Able stood there, every day, his face frustrated.

  Therefore, I read of the high elves and magnificent lands of theirs. They were first of the beings gods created. True, there were plenty of beings older than they were, giants and gorgons, likely, spirits and beasts of many forms, but the elves were supposed to be perfect. Noble and wise, the gods had made them caretakers of their finest jewel, Aldheim. I snickered. Judging by what Euryale told of the creatures, they were nothing but a failure. Yet, apparently, despite their wars, intrigues and games, spectacles of art and of blood, the elves were balanced. They might be bored, the author of the book surmised, bored like the gods themselves, driven to petty power plays and bloody murders, devising a system of houses, one climbing over the other, hoping to sit in the first five houses, but there were limits to their self-destructiveness. They had laws, strict honor, and to fail in upholding one's honor, meant the loss of face and death.

  Moreover, she was to thrust me into the middle of such a race? I felt the weight of the responsibility push down hard on my shoulders.

  I abandoned that book, and I read of the gods’ gates. There were eight gates in each world and in Aldheim, the holy gate, Asgaard’s Pass, Heimdal’s gate was in Ljusalfheim, the City of Spires, the home of the Bardagoons. The book told of the gate to Niflheim in the lost east and the one to Svartalfheim in Himinborg, though Himinborg itself meant Heimdal’s Seat. One was in Breidablik of House Daxamma, apparently. There was no mention of the others. I knew where the gate to the Tenth was. In Grey Downs. The rest were all closed and some, possibly lost in the east, Wild’s Coast. I gazed at the text, trying to fathom the words of some ancient scholar. Time passed fleetly, noble elves fell into oblivion, generations of long-lived kings lay down in their mounds or sought death in war, hoping to avoid the Enemy. The scholars were forgotten in their towers and caves and few cared for gods, whose absence was soothin
g to some, disturbing to others and gates were lost, forgotten amidst the mortar of fallen palaces and houses. Woe to lose these relics of old. But the nobles care not. I shook my head, sometimes forgetting the glowing book, fascinated by the study.

  Yet, then Able’s presence would remind me and so did the glow. I despaired.

  In the evenings, I sat in my bed, listening to how my friends spoke of their days. They held together, and I felt alienated from them, except for Cherry and Lex. They were changing, turning into jaded, practical weapons, for, in place of freedom, they had the growing power. Bereft of that, they had nothing. They would be weapons indeed, only that, but tenacious, strapping and proud and, of course, useful to their masters.

  However, in Anja’s face, I could still see the desire to escape, and we both knew we should do something soon. But, I had not yet summoned the strength to reach for the book. Nor did I have an opportunity.

  I would have to, soon. Or betray their hopes.

  CHAPTER 18

  Bad weather was once again plaguing the island. That day, the tower was frosted over, and we huddled under out blankets when we could. Lex was sharing warmth with me, having ushered Cherry away for a while, and I lay next to him gratefully, giggling as he was groaning in lust we could not take advantage of. It was strange for a boy to desire me, but I decided perhaps not so much, after all. And Ulrich and Anja did, of course, many things in the shadows of the room, but we did not. Not yet.

  Dana crept next to me, smiling at Lex, who stirred, and cursed softly for she nodded him away. He left to tease Cherry, who endured the big, blond man with infectious smiles. She sat next to me, ogling the tall boy. ‘He being good to you?’

  ‘Exquisite, sister,’ I told her, missing him already.

  ‘Have you learned much?’ she asked suspiciously and then added. ‘I have. They say I’m probably the most powerful maa’dark they’ve ever seen.’

  ‘Saa’dark, for we are their slaves,’ I reminded her.

  ‘I think of myself as maa’dark,’ she grinned.

  ‘Congratulations then, sister,’ I said and smiled, and she bristled. I raised my hands. ‘Bilac and Cosia still train you?’

  ‘They do, though they do not beat us nearly as much as they used to while we practiced harnessing the Shades. We also train with weapons. Swords and spears and shields. It’s positively medieval. There they make up for missing the beating part. My arms ache,’ she giggled. ‘But you did not answer my question. Are you getting practice, answers? I want you to share, you know. We should be free, one day soon, no? You fulfilling your contract?’

  I nodded. ‘Euryale tells me it will be time soon. There is a thing called the Feast of Fates, an elven celebration, and there many things will change.’ I rubbed my shoulder, terrified at the things crawling under and over my skin as if answering my words of the Feast. Her eyes traveled to my hand and she nodded, a brief look of uncertainty filling her face. ‘But she is secretive and only lets me know so much,’ I told her unhappily. ‘Dana, I think we should consider something else.’

  ‘Something else?’ she inquired, her head twisted to the side. ‘What else is there? She promises you freedom …’

  ‘After threatening your life and infecting me with the Rot,’ I growled. ‘Twice.’

  ‘The Rot?’ she asked.

  ‘I … She has infected me. She did it to motivate me. After all, it might have been so I did not care for your life.’

  ‘Is that why you are always holding your shoulder?’ she whispered and placed a hand on my shoulder. It tingled, and I had a hunch the Rot did not enjoy her touch. She pulled her hand away, her eyes wide in shock. ‘I felt something.’

  ‘Don’t,’ I told her, clutching her hand. ‘It’s pretty terrible.’

  ‘What …’

  ‘Devouring illness. I will be cured if I obey her.’

  ‘There you have it,’ she told me softly, her eyes betraying rage. ‘No option but to obey. There is nothing else.’ She wiped a sudden tear from her eye. ‘I am sorry, sister. Best do as she says, and it will be okay.’ She looked around as if Euryale was near, lurking in the shadows. ‘But perhaps, if you are careful, don’t play it blind with her. Try to find out more of her plans.’

  ‘I am trying.’

  ‘You are?’ she asked. ‘Don’t risk …’

  ‘She is ill at ease with me, keeping an eye on me. I have a hard time finding answers, even if I might know of something that could possibly help me. A book.’ I bit my tongue, for I had spoken too much.

  She considered me and finally took a deep breath. ‘Be careful, sister, not to ruin everything. Yet, there is one thing you never practiced, Shannon, in your closed little world. The thing to make a creature like this love you? Want to know?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Suck up to her,’ she told me as she leaned towards me. ‘Of course. All the relatives you hated, all the people that made you feel uncomfortable? Even Mother and Father, sometimes, when they ignored your issues and unhappiness? You were too wrapped up in your problems to try to make things work for you. You never attempted to please those who could make life easier for you, no matter how hard it was. I always did. It works wonders. Admire her, worship her, and hang on to her filthy words. I bet she would love that. I think she does not have anyone who truly calls her … I don’t know. Pretty? Smart? Brutal? Give her a foot massage?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I don’t know!’ she giggled. ‘You got a technique for that?’

  ‘No! In addition, I don’t wish to touch her cruddy feet! But I see what you mean,’ I told her as she shook with mirth and then took a deep, hopeless breath. ‘I …’

  ‘Suck her bottom, Shannon. I would if I could,’ she laughed and squeezed my hand. ‘You promise us freedom. Make sure you can deliver. See if you can find ways to make sure she keeps her words to us. Call her beautiful. Fawn on her. Tell her she smells good. Admire the carnage she has caused. Bed her!’ she sighed and shook her head. ‘I don’t like this, but make sure we will find a way for us to escape in case she betrays her promises. As for the disease, we will find a cure, but we must survive to do so.’ She leaned on me. ‘I love you, Shannon. Nevertheless, I have always pulled our sleigh. Show me you can too.’

  ‘I will sister,’ I told her and hugged her fiercely. ‘But I won’t bed her nor massage her.’

  ‘Flatter her. She is not a god, but I bet she would like to be one,’ she grinned. ‘You and I if none else. Remember, sister.’

  The next day, I flattered her.

  It is easy to flatter monsters. I already knew she was susceptible to flattery. Despite their distinct powers, it is not possible for them to garner real adoration from their slaves. And even evil beings, I suppose, need some form of acceptance from those they terrorize. Dana was right. When I entered her abode, I found her cowling herself, the snakes dancing heavily around her. Her powerful arms were smoothing a bodice around her beautifully sculpted body, covering her high breasts, and her shapely legs were carrying her to the side, trying to find a pouch where she likely stored many powerful artifacts. She was moving for my seat, ready to guard me.

  ‘Mistress, I rue I cannot see your face,’ I said softly as I kneeled.

  ‘What, child?’ she asked, apparently deep in her thoughts.

  ‘I said, I rue I can never see your face. Your daughters are beautiful, in a dangerous way, but I have never seen you, mistress, and it saddens me.’

  ‘Humans should not harbor a wish to die, child. Their lives are short enough,’ she laughed. ‘Longer here than in your home, but short as love. And you did see my face when I bit you. Briefly. That first time.’

  ‘Yes, mistress,’ I told her and bowed. I took a deep breath, shaking in terror of what I was about to ask her. ‘I did. But there is beauty in that face when it’s not hungry. Speaking of that. Do you wish to feed?’

  ‘Feed?’ she stopped. ‘I thought it terrified you?’

  ‘Your needs, mistress, should not be subject to my
terror. I hope to serve,’ I told her. ‘I have found myself changing this past month. I feel no great urge to be free of the Fanged Spire. All the knowledge and your wisdom …’

  ‘I thought you hoped to be free of me, one day?’ she chuckled with a hollow voice. ‘No, I cannot speed up your Rot anymore, Shannon. But thank you, my little human girl. I’ll feed on something else. So what else are you thinking about?’

  ‘I have been reading about the lands and thinking about this freedom you will grant us. Perhaps it is not so desirable. Perhaps I might have a home with you?’ I felt claws rake my soul at those words, for they might come to haunt me one day.

  ‘Excuse me?’ she asked, astonished. ‘You honestly think like this?’

  I went on hurriedly. ‘When you are reunited with your sister,’ I blurted, ‘you will surely have plans beyond the sad business of slave trading. You have implied it. Perhaps you will free the gods and get your due, but that will not stop you, a First Born from reaching out for more. When we are free,’ I added, ‘perhaps we shall not have a clue on what to do with such freedom as you promised.’

  She glided to me and stopped before me. She lifted my chin to gaze at her glowing, covered eyes. ‘Humans do tend to waste their lives trying to find something that is not there. Perhaps you are wiser. The day I have Hel’s Eye in my hand, I shall consider your request. You might be very useful indeed, Hand of Life, and we do have plans beyond enjoying each other’s company, Stheno and I, and even the gods would not stop us, for they owe us. But you would have to serve us. You might not be a prisoner to my Bone Fetter, nor subject to Rot, but you would be subject to my will. Even to my sister.’