by N M Thorn
Iriada’s arm held him tighter, and her other arm seized the hair on the back of his head. Her cold lips found his, and as she kissed him, unusual calmness spread through him. His body went limp in her embrace, and his arms dropped. A heartbeat later, everything was over. The feeling of weightlessness was gone, and with relief, he felt firm ground beneath his back.
“Cole?” Iriada’s voice sounded above him, and he opened his eyes. She offered him her hand. He took it and got up, looking around in awe.
“Where are we?”
He stood in a large clearing surrounded by a strange forest. Brilliant, bluish light flooded the area, seemingly coming from nowhere. The trees weren’t tall, but their leaves sparkled like sapphires, and their trunks were a deep ultramarine. The ground was covered with lush, cerulean grass, and it moved like the ocean waves with every gust of the light wind.
This place was as beautiful as it was remarkable, but that wasn’t what shocked Cole. Everywhere, as far as he could see, gold and silver coins, precious and semiprecious gems, jewelry, priceless pieces of art, weapons, icons, crosses and other religious artifacts were scattered all over the clearing.
“You’re still beneath the lake.” Kostroma’s voice sounded behind him, and he spun around. She stood in front of him with a plain wooden box in her hands. “This is the place where Yakov Bruce had Napoleon dump all his treasures.” She smirked, a look of superiority reflected on her face. “No human will ever be able to put their greedy hands on any of it.” She stepped closer and offered the box to Cole. “Here is what you need. I hope Yakov knows what he’s doing.” She shook her head with a deep sigh. “This device is extremely dangerous, vampire. Make sure it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
“I will, my lady,” replied Cole, taking the box from her hands.
“I have a bad feeling about this.” She bit her lips, her green eyes turning a shade darker. “First, lobastas invading my realm. Now, Yakov wants to retrieve this box… There are no coincidences in the World of Magic. There has to be a connection.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Cole glanced at the mavka, readjusting the straps of his scabbard. “Someone extremely dangerous has learned about the location of the device, and Yakov is trying to protect it. This is the reason he sent me here.”
“Like I said…” Kostroma frowned. “I hope he knows what he’s doing.” She turned to Iriada. “I’m going to open a portal to the surface. Please take our guest back to shore. Even though he’s a vampire, I noticed the portal affected him more than I expected.”
Cole cringed inwardly, thinking about going through a rusalka’s portal again. Swallowing his doubts and fears, he thanked her for her assistance and bowed to her, his natural elegance taking over. As Kostroma opened the swirling and splashing vortex, Iriada took the box from him and encircled his waist with her arm, pulling him inside of the portal.
The moon shone above the lake, its silvery light reflecting on its still surface. Iriada pushed Cole slightly on his back, directing him toward the shore, the soft splashes of water sounding like thunder in the surrounding silence. She halted a few yards away from the land and took his hand, stopping him. She gave him the box with the device and gently moved the wet strands of his hair off his face, sadness suffusing her features.
“Farewell, my friend. I hope we meet again one day.” She waved her hand and dove into the darkness of the lake.
“Hopefully, under better circumstances,” murmured Cole and turned around, heading to shore as fast as he could.
He stepped on the slippery, cold ground, moving heavily to the place where he left Damian and Yakov. As he crossed through the thickets of reeds, he almost tripped over Yakov’s body. The wizard lay sprawled on the shore, his dark hair soaked with water, and he appeared to be asleep. Cole dropped to his knees, quickly checking his vitals. He found a pulse right away, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t wake him up.
Cole moved the box to his left hand and unsheathed his sword, wincing from the soft metallic sound the blade produced. Light like a shadow, he rose to his feet and moved along the shore, hiding behind the tall reeds. He found his brother almost right away, and what he saw caused him to freeze in place with his skin crawling.
A tiny, scrawny man was kneeling next to Damian. He wasn’t armed, but a tight noose of magical energy, glowing with a sinister, purple light, was wrapped around his brother’s neck. Damian lay motionless, either asleep or unconscious. His chest was rising and falling with even breaths and his face was relaxed, so Cole assumed he was still alive.
The man readjusted his thick glasses, pushing them higher on the bridge of his nose, and waved in the direction where Cole was hiding, rolling his eyes.
“Come closer, vampire,” the man said, disdain pulling his lips back in a snarl. “I can detect your essence with my eyes closed.” Without waiting for Cole to answer, he seized Damian’s hair and yanked his head back. “And don’t get smart with me, vamp, or I’ll show you how to kill an immortal Child of Earth.” He snickered, the sound so malevolent and carnivorous that Cole shuddered inwardly. “Trust me, there is a way to kill him, and I’m sure he knows that, too.”
Cole didn’t move, remaining in the thickets, his mind going through thousands of possible options, seeing nothing useful.
“Dammit,” cursed the old man, adding a few more choice words. “Do I have to do everything myself?”
He snapped his fingers, and his magical energy spiked around him. Pointing in Cole’s direction, he muttered something, his smirk becoming wider and more sinister by the moment.
Cole wasn’t sure what happened, but suddenly his mind went completely blank. He could see and hear. He could also understand everything clearly enough, but he was no longer in command of his own body. He stood absolutely still, unable to move a muscle.
“Now, come here, boy,” said the man, gesturing for him to approach.
No, I’m not going to—
But before he knew it, he separated the reeds and moved toward the man, everything inside him screaming to fight the influence of his magic. He halted in front the man, staring at him in horror.
“Much better.” The man got up and detached Cole’s unbending fingers from the box and took it, lowering back next to Damian. “Now kneel, boy.”
Cole fell to his knees, unable to fight, think, or resist.
“My name is Az,” said the man softly, but then glanced at Cole and smirked. “Well, not really. But that’s the name your brother will recognize. When he wakes up—if he ever wakes up, that is—give him my deepest gratitude. Without him and the old wizard there”—he waved in Yakov’s direction—“I would have never been able to get this box... Not true. I would still find a way to get it even without them, but it would take me a lot longer, and time is of the essence.”
Cole opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out from his throat. He wanted to lift his hand, but he couldn’t. Az noticed his attempts, and his smile grew wider.
“You can’t fight my influence, vampire,” he said, his voice soft and indifferent. “I wield one of the oldest and most powerful branches of magic—necromancy. Anything dead or undead, like yourself, is powerless against me. I can tell you to take this extraordinary sword of yours and thrust it through your beloved brother’s heart, and you’ll do it without a moment of hesitation.”
He placed the box on the ground, his fingers trembling slightly as he moved his hands over it. Then he glanced at Cole and twirled his wrist.
“You may speak, by the way,” he said, reaching into his pocket.
He produced a tiny crystal and moved it around the lid of the box, chanting quietly. After a moment, the box lit up with a soft, white light, and the lid opened, revealing two silver bands resting on a bed of black silk. Az moved his fingers over the bands, a wistful expression on his face. Carefully, he picked up the smaller one and put it on the middle finger of his right hand.
“This is all I need.” He closed the box and rose to his feet,
showing his hand with the ring to Cole.
“Why?” asked Cole. “Why did you need to trick Damian and Yakov? You obviously knew the location of the device, and I’m sure a swim in the lake wouldn’t stop you. Why did you need them? Why all these shadow games and deception?”
Az looked down, running his fingers through Cole’s hair. “You’re quite clever for a vamp. I would love to have you as my pet, but right now, I have no time to play with you.” He glanced back at Damian. “It wasn’t easy to find the lake. The old wizard was too smart for his own good. He never gave Napoleon the true rune. But sooner or later, I found it, anyway.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “I also knew the location of the crystal that unlocks the box, and I needed to find a way to put my hands on that eagle-head dagger.”
“So why didn’t you break into Ricardo’s house yourself? Obviously, you’re powerful enough to do something as trivial as a robbery?”
“Haven’t you seen all the magic detectors Ricardo has in his house?” Az rolled his eyes, fixing up his sliding glasses. “Besides, I could feel the presence of gray stones all around the house, and I didn’t want to bother with this man’s defense mechanisms. As you know, the more powerful you are, the heavier and more painful the effect of the gray stones magic.”
He stopped talking, his eyes shifting from Damian to Cole and then back to Damian.
“Knowing how much your brother cared for you,” he continued at length, “I made sure to create a hostile situation in the state, placing your rule and your life in enough peril for him to get desperate. And just to drive that proverbial nail, I made sure that my wurdulaks broke the sanctuary law. So now, your brother wasn’t only protecting you, he was under a direct obligation to find the person responsible.” He laughed, pointing at his chest. “Me.”
“But why did you send him after Yakov Bruce?” asked Cole. “He was the only person who knew about the Hollow Band. He could have ruined all your plans.”
“Exactly, he was the only person who knew about the device,” Az agreed airily. “He was also the only person in the world who could open the portal and communicate with mavka Kostroma who held the box hidden. A while ago, I sent my loyal lobastas to deal with her, but no matter how much they tried, she wouldn’t tell them where the box was hidden.”
“Damn…” Cole dropped his head, biting his lip. They had fallen into every trap this insidious man had set for them.
Az snickered, patting Cole’s cheek, and Cole growled, struggling to turn away from his touch.
“Don’t beat yourself up, vampire. I’m the master of deception and shadow games, as you put it. No one can beat me at that.” He glanced around, his eyes lingering on Damian’s motionless form for a moment. “Well, boy, I have what I need, thanks to all of you, and it’s time for me to go. Good luck waking up your beloved brother and the wizard.” A sinister smirk curved his lips. “It’ll take a divine intervention to break my enchantment.”
Az snapped his fingers and vanished from the cold lakeside.
As soon as he was gone, the influence of the necromancer’s magic dissipated and Cole fell to all fours, finally in control of his body. Scrambling to his feet, he rushed to his brother’s side, lowering himself next to him. He seized his shoulders and shook him a few times, but Damian didn’t react. For the next few minutes, he tried everything he could think of to wake him up, but nothing worked. Feeling numb on the inside, he sat back on his heels and ran his trembling fingers over Damian’s scarred cheek, his shoulders slumped.
“Damian, please wake up… Dima… I need you to wake up, brother mine,” he whispered, the last ray of hope gone from his soul.
Chapter 29
~ Damian Blake ~
“Daaa-mi-aaaa-n… Open your eyes…”
He was warm and comfortable. Nothing was tormenting his soul, and his body wasn’t sore. No one was trying to force him to do anything he didn’t want to do, and no one was trying to kill him or his brother. For once in his life, he felt safe and happy. If it was just a dream, he didn’t want to wake up… Ever.
“Damian, come on. I need you to open your eyes…”
The voice pleaded and nagged. It sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place his finger on who it was.
“Damian, please…” the voice whispered, and someone slapped his cheek gently. “If you don’t open your eyes now, you will die. Your brother will die. The old eagle will die. The world as you know it will perish forever. Can you live knowing that all you had to do to save everyone was open… your… eyes…”
Damian moaned, everything inside him screaming and begging to stay asleep. He cracked his eyelids open, staring straight up at a blue sky with a single fluffy cloud. It wasn’t the Arizona sky with its merciless sun. It wasn’t the midnight sky above the Black Lake in Russia either. With a groan, he pushed himself up into a sitting position and observed his surroundings.
He sat at the edge of a cliff next to a large pine tree. Below, surrounded by a forest, a wide river rolled its waves, disappearing behind a curve. A narrow bridge led across the river toward a city encircled by a tall, stone wall.
He knew this place. He used to love it. A long time ago. In another life.
“Hello, Damian,” a soft female voice sounded on his left.
He turned his head and smirked. A young woman—short and slender—sat by his side. Her long black hair fell to her back and chest, blending with her black dress. She glanced at him sideways and answered his smirk with a sad smile.
“Hello, Mara,” he said calmly, turning away from her. “I should have known it was you all along.” He rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Would you like to tell me what I’m doing here and why?”
“No, it wasn’t me. I didn’t put you to sleep, but I used the situation to contact you.” The corners of her lips quirked up. “I didn’t have much time, but I did what I could in the time I had,” she said, touching his elbow. “Once you fell asleep, I searched through your memories, trying to find your happiest moments. There wasn’t much happiness in your life, was there?”
Damian shrugged indifferently and shook his head no. “Whatever you say…”
“From what I understand, in your human life, you used to love this place. You felt happy here.” Mara waved her hand. “This is why I brought you here.”
“Good choice,” replied Damian after a short pause. He pulled a small daisy out, plucking off one petal at a time absentmindedly. “As a twelve-year-old boy, I used to love this place. I’m not sure I was happy here, but for some reason, it used to make me feel safe.” He glanced at the Slavic goddess of Nightmares, and an expectation of trouble squeezed his heart. “I know you want something, Mara, and unless you get what you want, I won’t be able to wake up. So, why don’t we get to business because I don’t have time for your games.”
“That’s the problem, Damian,” she replied, caressing his arm. “Today, I’m not here to torment you. I’m here to help you. But before we get to business, can I ask you something personal?”
Damian chuckled, shaking his head. “You just admitted that you went through all my memories. How much more personal can it be?” He waved his hand dismissively. “Go ahead. What would you like to know?”
She didn’t reply but pushed her arm through the crook of his elbow and snapped her fingers. The surroundings shimmered and became blurry. Damian groaned as the world spun around him, feeling Mara’s arm supporting him. When his vision cleared, he was in a small, half-demolished hut. Heavy rain bombarded the roof, cold water flowing down through the holes in the ceiling.
Two small boys—about twelve and six—lay on the cold, hard floor, shaking in their thin, torn clothes. Damian stared at the boys, and his every muscle tensed as he remembered this night.
The younger boy sat up, pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. Glancing at his older brother, his pale lips quivered, tears gathering in his blue eyes.
“Dima,” he whispered, wiping the tears mixed in with the icy rainwater off his fac
e. “I’m so cold. I can’t sleep.”
The older boy took the only shirt he had off and put it on his brother, wrapping it tighter around him. Then he lay down on his side and pulled his brother closer to his bare chest, encircling him with his arms to share his body heat with him.
“Nikolai…” Damian whispered his brother’s name, watching the little blond boy fall asleep in his arms. He swallowed and dropped his head, biting his lip.
“How many nights did you spend like this when you were kids?” she asked.
“Too many…”
“You still sleep in this position—on your side, hugging your pillow. You know?”
“I know. How do you know my sleeping habits?” He waved his hand, dismissing the matter. “Never mind that. Was that your question?” He exhaled, unable to take his eyes off his little brother’s innocent face. “You’ve gone through so much trouble just to find out why I sleep on my side?”
“Of course not.” She rolled her eyes and pointed at the two boys. “At this moment, both you and your brother are frozen to the bone and hungry. I wanted to know why you consider it a happy memory,” she replied, gazing up at him with interest.
Damian smirked, averting his gaze so the goddess wouldn’t see the haunted expression in his eyes. “My brother was alive, and we were together,” he replied, his voice raspy.
“Your brother is still alive, and you’re together once more.” Mara frowned and snapped her fingers.
The surroundings spun and blurred, and once Damian could see again, they were back on the cliff over the river.
“My brother is undead,” said Damian, taking her hand off his arm, “and we spent over a thousand years apart.” He shifted, resting his back against the trunk of the pine tree. “I answered your question, Mara. Now it’s your turn to tell me why I am here.”