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

by Alaric Longward

  ‘Welcome, mistresses, to your delicious dinner,’ it greeted us happily.

  ‘Shut up, you pile of confused lumber,’ the gorgon spat, and she ran a finger across it and cast a complicated spell. The door’s happy mouth changed into brooding black, dead lips. ‘Come and mourn in the Chambers of Flaying,’ the ominous voice from the ugly mouth proclaimed. Euryale pushed me through the door into a large, circular hall with a curving roof and ornamental, rib-like arches decorated with leering skulls. Pennants of yellowed skin hung from the walls, shivering in some moving air, and there we stood on a dank, mossy stone floor, and there were magical lights set haphazardly around the walls. Around us were cells, most open, filthy and abandoned, but some were closed and apparently in a good condition, adorned with glittering locking mechanisms. ‘This is what you were looking for?’ she asked spitefully. ‘The dungeon below? The dragon?’

  ‘I made a mistake,’ I whispered. ‘I was curious, just curious.’

  ‘Well, you of the Tenth have a saying about the cat and its curiosity,’ she whispered. ‘You were pouring honey in my ears, and I, the fool, my heart moved by your false words, outright lies and the spec of darkness that is truly inside you thought you would worship us like you would a goddess. Like you should, indeed, human girl. As soon as you were allowed some trust, you betrayed me, like a mean, petty little child. These are the Chambers of Flaying as you heard my door just proclaim, the dungeons where the Timmerions held their most reluctant guests. Up there, the skulls of those who would not follow the way of repentance and find a way to their master’s graces. There, the skins of his enemies who were never expected to change their hearts. Some are Cerunnos’s former friends, and even relatives are amongst both the skulls and the skins. Come, sister, and see where his folk flayed those who would not bend a knee,’ she laughed and pushed me across the room, the spell around my limbs hurtful, clutching. She was pushing me on and through a massive, ironbound door, slamming me into it with force. I was not terribly hurt, for the gate flew open quickly, the lock falling away like a puddle of skittering crabs, flowing molten and golden on the glistening floor. I hurtled downstairs, not painfully, but I was terrified, for we descended into darkness that was only cut by the Bone Fetter in my arm. The lock was repairing itself until it was glittering iron once more, I noticed. Euryale followed me, running in shadows across the floor and the walls, wraith of the night, and as I stopped, she dropped from the darkness above, lithe like a stalking demon before me. She grasped my face as a light snapped into being above. ‘You read the book, and you saw the lines about the Masked One? Yes, you did. You were seeking power over me, were you not? Matters not, Shannon. You shall perform the deeds I asked for, and Hel knows if I will let you go free, after all. And sadly, the Masked One has no power over me. I have power over him, you see. His power is mine and that was my secret, clever little one. The beast made a Pact for his life, and I am the mistress of the wyrm’s powers. And now we have to think of a price for you to pay.’

  I felt the tears come. ‘And why should I help you, then? If there is no deal with a reward?’ I spat as bravely as I could as she raked a fingernail across my chest. I saw Able gawking at me from the doorway, his dead eyes enormous and white, anger playing on his young, childish face.

  Euryale’s eyes were burning under her cowl. ‘There will be a price, not a prize. Ah, still you worry about your friends and always did, despite my warning. You have no dreams of freedom and power for you and your sister, no. You let them seduce you, and I tell you now, Shannon, one day, if you had made it out of here with them, you would have regretted it. But now you are here. How the masks fall. The Dark Levy is ever tricky, with vagabonds and wastrels of the Tenth, full of the foulest creatures, but you have not learned your lessons back in your former misery, no. Instead of growing and being sensible, you developed a conscience. Sad it is, that you have more promise in these lands than most of the mighty maa’dark elven nobles, the mistresses of high houses and lords of the guilds. Sad, as the Second Light of Aldheim worries over a simpering, foolish group of humans. You are willing to shed your life rather than let the scum go. And no doubt you think you are so precious, I cannot do without you?’

  ‘Yes, that is true!’

  She giggled madly. ‘But you do not truly understand me, Shannon. Sometimes I waste what could be supremely useful to me, just because it thrills me. Didn’t I let you fight the other team? Dangerous! But I am a gambler. And I know my theory was right. There will be others, perhaps. Here,’ she flitted in the shadows and grasped something in the dark. She appeared before me. In two of her hands were goblets of dull, simple make. She placed them to one side and slipped off her leathery garment, exposing her magnificent, nude physique. She extended her remaining two arms to her sides, suddenly holding thin daggers. I flinched, but she was not going to flay me.

  Instead, she wounded herself.

  She made a thin wound on each of her sides, and thick blood came forth. She grimaced and held the goblets under each injury, letting the liquid flow inside. Her eyes were gloating at my distress. She smiled malevolently under the hood as the cups filled. She took a sip of the cup on her right side and grinned.

  ‘When the Void filled with the frigid ice and eternal fire and the dice were thrown for all of us, the first creatures of the worlds, as old as the Fates and the gods, the wondrous things that were born thus were given gifts. You have yours, Shannon, the gift of healing. Others of the Ten Tears have theirs, the lesser ones, but while you are unique in your ability to heal, the gorgon’s blood, my little flower, is a thing of many uses, and one is nearly like your power, only more powerful still. This one,’ she shook her right hand and the liquid sloshed inside the goblet, ‘is wondrous nectar, bled from my right side, and can resurrect even the dead, perhaps. You see, I could save the Regent’s wife easily, but alas, you are the only one who can enter the damned hall. This was your salvation from the Rot as well.’

  Her wounds closed.

  ‘This one?’ She sloshed the liquid in the other goblet. ‘It does the opposing,’ she giggled hollowly as she mulled the wine-like liquid on the other side, ‘let us see.’ She twirled her hands and the cups were enveloped in lingering dust and shadows as they spiraled to the floor before me, and I could not say which one was which. Dreadful suspicion and fear hammered at me as I gazed at her, and she enjoyed every moment of my torment.

  ‘I’ll have a sip of what you had,’ I told her spitefully.

  ‘Ah, but let us keep the Rot at work in you.’ She pointed a long, white finger at me. ‘Wait.’

  She cast a spell, pulling at ice and winds, the dark, swirling portal appeared, and she disappeared. I stared at Able, who looked helpless and sorry, and I shook my head at him, trying to reassure him. Whatever Euryale was going to do, would have to be borne.

  It took some time, but she reappeared.

  She was not alone.

  She had Ulrich, Cherry, Albine, Dmitri, Dana, Lex, and Anja with her, all held by spells, their eyes huge with fear and surprise. ‘Shannon! What the hell did you do?’ Dana shrieked, and I looked away in shame. Fear ran up and down my back, I could feel its presence in my spine, making my knees weak. She wove some more icy spells and the lot went quiet, their eyes surprised. Euryale stepped between her victims, their faces glistening with sweat and confusion, and she hurled me to the floor before them. She ran a finger across Anja’s face, drawing blood. ‘Choose a drink for her. Select a drink for her or one for your sister. Choose which one shall drink and what.’

  ‘No!’ I said, horrified. ‘No!’ I screamed.

  ‘Choose a drink for your friend or for your sister,’ she said again and laughed dryly. ‘Do it. Perhaps you are lucky?’

  ‘I will serve you and aid you, mistress, and shall not question you again,’ I pleaded, and she giggled. ‘I read a damned book!’

  ‘Yes, you will aid me and will read no more,’ she laughed. ‘Indeed, you shall do as I say! But like a child, your period for fai
r warnings is now gone. A child gives their word only to turn renegade at the first possible moment for selfish reasons and must know it burns to fail so.’

  ‘Selfish? I want my friends to …’

  ‘Shh. Selfish, for I am your mistress, the one who dragged you from the misery of the Tenth. You plotted against your mother. Now you pay for such an affront. Since you love them better than you do your sister, or me, one shall suffer. Fool girl, they hate you both, yet here we are. They must giggle at the idiot Shannon, who could have been free and rich, but who listened to their whispers, the simple girl who never had friends. But one won’t giggle shortly. Choose!’

  ‘I don’t wish to choose,’ I begged her.

  Euryale disappeared and appeared at my side, pulling my face to stare at Dana’s face, then at Anja. ‘Do you take me for the type to play games? Do you? Choose.’

  I eyed Anja and Dana, my eyes traveling across the lot, all held magically. Dana was defiant, her eyes fierce as she regarded the terrible creature gazing at me with perverse excitement. Lex’s eyes were begging me to choose him, but she had not asked for him. I shuddered in anger, cursing Euryale bitterly. I took a deep breath.

  I spat and cried, staring at them. ‘I am sorry.’

  ‘They cannot answer you, love. Choose,’ Euryale said softly.

  ‘This one,’ I told her, taking one cup randomly, and then I stared down to my knees. ‘Give it to … Anja.’ I hazarded a glance her way. The Russian’s eyes smoldered in anger and then she was nodding bravely.

  ‘That one?’ Euryale giggled, the goblet flying to her hand. She stalked before Anja, her cowl the only clothing on her, gliding with animal-like dexterity. She grasped her face. ‘Speak. And resist at your own peril.’

  ‘No need to pry my mouth open, see?’ the blond woman said dourly, suddenly able to speak. ‘I’m rarely reluctant for a proper drink. Let me have it.’

  ‘Yes.’ She tipped the goblet in front of her eyes, which were round as plates. Ulrich turned pale and sweated, but the spells holding him stood fast. He opened his mouth with a quiver but could not speak. Euryale kept the goblet up before the tall, blond girl for so long she had to close her mouth and malignantly she snapped her fingers and her mouth opened impossibly wide. She groaned in pain. She trailed a finger across her face, making another long cut, and she was whimpering.

  ‘Taste it, my sweet girl, the fomenter of discontent, and let us see if you are in luck,’ Euryale hissed and leaned her body on hers and poured the liquid into her mouth. ‘Swallow, little one.’ Anja’s eyes filled with tears, and she swallowed.

  The wound on her face turned pink, then closed, and I let out my breath.

  Euryale turned to me, enjoying my relief. ‘Lucky, very lucky,’ she smiled, and I knew she was not done. ‘But things will change now. The Ten Tears are no longer training, Shannon. The class is dismissed. They will linger here, guests to my creatures. All of them. They will have cells until they rot there. That girl,’ Euryale told us with spite and pointed a finger at Albine, ‘and the one called Cherry and the dolt,’ she pointed at Lex, ‘shall sit and share a cell with something to keep them on their toes. Nothing deadly, of course, unless madness and hunger will drive them to suicide on this thing. Your sister, Shannon, I shall chain to the door of the dragon you sought to find. She will be near the monstrous thing, and must endure his whispers. He is a master of manipulation and schemes, lonely as an ugly cripple. He is cruel, much like I am and so close to him, she will be nude, bared and flayed in spirit and mind. Perhaps she will endure his lies and whispering, perhaps not. Perhaps she shall last for the remaining week? If not, she will be one of the mad ones. So you will have to hurry and obey me. The longer she stays near the thing, the more it will … change her.’ Dana’s eyes betrayed fury, as she stood there, shaking, unable to do anything. The air holding her still apparently tightened in response to her anger, for she grimaced in sudden pain.

  ‘But you, Shannon, shall wait here. In this cell.’ I saw she was still not done by the gleeful slap of her hand on her nude thigh.

  ‘I read a book,’ I whispered. ‘That is all.’

  ‘You read a book you were not supposed to read,’ she hissed. ‘You asked it questions you should not have. You shall have company. Ulrich will share this cell with you.’

  ‘And Anja?’ I asked heavily.

  ‘She,’ Euryale grinned. ‘is a rebel. She shall share her cell with the mad. You shall hear her begging for mercy, and they shall not be merciful. They lust for entertainment. I doubt you will know her if you ever see her again. I doubt you will, anyhow.’

  ‘No!’ Ulrich forced himself to scream, even through the spells holding them silent.

  Euryale stared at him, confused. ‘My, but you are furious. Enough so to break my spell. Here, let me redo it.’ She cast air and ice, and Ulrich’s face distorted painfully. ‘Thank her!’ she grinned and pointed at me. ‘And as for the mandatory death that is required in a situation like this, he will pay the price.’ She turned to Dmitri. She removed her cowl with a flick of her wrist and a glistening sea of snakes flew to either side of her head. I caught a glimpse of her formerly beautiful, smooth face, and now it was haggard, a ropy face, with terrible, burning eyes, huge and fierce, and she flew to the helpless Dmitri. The snakes shot out around him, pulling him to Euryale, and his thin scream ripped the thick air of the dungeons, making unseen creatures yap in fear. His eyes burned. They melted. They burned in flames and shrunk in his head as Euryale pulled him closer and kissed him, apparently through the lips as blood flowed profusely. His face turned white, then grayish, his hair shed, and skin turned to ash, his legs were twitching and hands shaking violently.

  ‘Dmitri!’ Anja screamed, and she was free of her bonds, for she rushed the demon. The snakes twisted in the air and slapped her several times, entwining themselves around her throat, leaving her shuddering, her fingers just barely touching Dmitri. Euryale’s hand shot out and grabbed her by the throat, holding her away, cruelly letting her see her brother dying. Ulrich was fighting the spell, I saw that much, but he was helpless.

  Dmitri died.

  He died slowly, his sister staring at him. He died whimpering, his face turning to stone as her eyes probed into his sunken, stony holes, and it was a gruesome, painful death. The prolonged kiss went on, and blood was flowing from the cracks in the stone-like face of our former, happy companion. Maliciously, she cut off her kiss, turned her face away and let him crumble to the ground, feet and arms half flesh, half stone, dead, or dying, shuddering in hazes of pain. He was gone, nonetheless, lost to us. She shook her head, and the cowl flew from the ground to her hands. She garbed herself and held onto Anja. She turned to look at me. ‘Soon, girl, you will leave this place. Serve me with the Eye, and your sister and you might survive, yet.’ She moved her hand, and Ulrich flew to the wall. She walked over, dragging Anja helplessly after her and latched a chain around Ulrich’s foot, leaving him staring at the long iron coil keeping him a prisoner. The Austrian sat up, freed from the airy clamps and stared at the terrible beast, his face ashen with anger. Euryale petted him like she would a dog and got up and turned to me. ‘Penitence is a long road, Shannon. One must truly suffer to feel sorry. So you shall. Stare at your nemesis, Shannon. He does not like you. Especially after he hears his woman suffering. You will stare at him for a week, sitting there, shackled and starving, his eyes and words accusing you of your silly failure. Terribly unfortunate this is, but it is so nonetheless.’ She smiled with bloodied fangs and disappeared, pulling the rest of the Tears with her to her portal.

  I slumped to my knees. Anja screamed, in terrible fear, a long, ululating scream of terror.

  But something was wrong.

  Ulrich's hands moved. His face had a demonic look as he gathered the chain until it was taut.

  And then he gathered a spell of Fury and released fire on it.

  He was not shut off from the Shades. The fire poured on the metal until it heated to orange, then white, a
nd he pulled at it, snapping it. He screamed in terrible anger and rushed to the door. He beat it and shook his massive shoulders as he tried to tear it open. He summoned fire, so much fire and poured it at the door. Nothing happened, the color of the wood turned dark, but that was all. The lock glittered mockingly. Ulrich spun and fell on his fours as he crawled for Dmitri. The boy was shuddering as Ulrich’s fingers ran over the stony flesh, the quivering fleshy parts, and he wiped tears off his face.

  Ulrich got up and harnessed another spell of Fury.

  ‘How?’ I gasped for Euryale had left him with his powers.

  He spat, his face burning with fury. ‘How? It’s my skill. The ability to see the Shades without interference! It is the secret we had! We would have tried an escape that night Anja spoke with you. But you hesitated!’

  ‘You should have told …’

  ‘Ah yes! And trust you not to tell her about it? Euryale? This murderess. I’m sure you would have trusted me not to murder Dana when I had my powers and she did not! No, we could not tell you before you were committed! And now you failed!’

  ‘I did, I …’

  ‘Failed!’ he roared. ‘Lex, my cousin is gone. Now she is suffering! Anja! And they are dead! Both Alexei and Dmitri! You piece of shit! You and yours are our bane!’ He summoned fire and released it across Dmitri, so long and harsh and hot the remaining flesh burned to cinders, leaving blackened bones. The smell was terrible, and I gagged and looked away.

  Somewhere, Anja screamed again.

  It was a terrible, long cry full of horrified fear and pleading. A chorus of cackling voices could be heard, pleased by her arrival, an imperious voice could be heard, thin with madness. ‘Surround her! Grasp her! Do it!’ It was a mad male voice, full of commanding force, and Anja was shrieking in absolute horror. She begged and pleaded, and so I saw madness entirely claim Ulrich.

  He turned to me. His eyes were bitter and hopeless, lost and resentful, full of pain and terror.

  He harnessed Fury and a thin, fiery whip danced in his hands. ‘You and your bitch sister. Always due to you, we suffer. People die. People I care about!’