In his mind Cross saw people he loved die, and he felt their anguish. Agony ripped through his chest. Tears flooded his face.
But he was alive. That avalanche of hurt should have turned his mind to jelly and stopped his heart from beating, but Danica’s shield saved them.
Reza was the first to fight through the pain and struggle to her feet. She blasted the Eidolos with the shotgun at point-blank range, spattering black skin and blood milk. The beast growled and lashed out at her, barely missing, but the distraction was enough for the rest of the group to slough off its attack and gather themselves. Cross felt like his head had been dipped in cement. Flashes of phantom hurt rippled down his arms and legs, echoes of other people’s suffering.
Danica launched ruby flames at the creature. Heat and fire cascaded up the chimney of flesh. The writhing Eidolos’ body was outlined for the briefest of moments, a whirling cascade of funneling black.
Cross gripped his blade and moved forward to finish it off, but he didn’t get there in time. Danica’s power broke and sparks rained down. Something slashed at her like a dark stain. Her painful cries echoed in Cross’s head as she staggered forward, struggling to stay upright.
Soulrazor/Avenger came down and sliced several of the Eidolos’ shadow limbs from its body. Writhing tentacles fell into open air and crashed into the river. Darkness struck him hard in the face and snapped his head back, but Cross bared his bloodstained teeth and hacked again, ducking beneath flailing tentacles, the dual sword guiding his movements.
Danica recovered and ripped Claw free, but before she could strike the Eidolos spun round and threw her and Cross back. Cross landed near the edge of the rampart and felt the open space beneath them as his shoulder painfully slammed into the rock. Darkness cobwebbed over Danica, and she slumped to the ground.
Flint howled and fired his rifle, and Shiv covered her ears. Reza rushed at the Eidolos with the shotgun blazing, but this time its tentacles struck her hard and threw her against the curtain wall. The stone cracked from the impact, and Reza’s body slid down in a trail of blood. Flint fired again, and a bolt of darkness shot out from the column and threw him backwards. Shadows leaked from his mouth. Shiv ran after him, screaming for him to get up.
The air swam. Cross couldn’t find the strength to rise. His arms tensed with electric shock and his vision flashed in and out like he was bobbing on the surface of a choppy sea.
He fought through the pain, picked up Soulrazor/Avenger from where it had fallen to the ground and forced himself to stand. Everything tilted. He felt stone shift beneath him, heard chunks of the unstable structure plummet to the icy waters below.
Danica also rose. The Eidolos loomed over her, grew tall like a giant rearing slug. Cross heard oozing in the darkness. Shadows spiraled and lashed at the witch. He leapt in the way, deflected the limbs with his blade. Bone-chilling cold shot through him. He felt his heart gel in his chest as his veins turned to ice.
Chains of darkness wrapped around his limbs. Blood dripped from his eyes. He felt Danica’s spirit rip at the tentacles, felt his blade cut on its own accord, desperate to free him before he melted away.
The darkness is eating me, Cross thought. Everything was fading.
“Release him,” Shiv said. Her voice was powerful, and seemed distant. The chains slackened, and Cross fell to the ground. He sensed the Eidolos’ emotions, felt its fear.
He saw Shiv, but not through his own eyes, more like watching her from afar. She stood her ground, looking so small and unassuming, her green and brown clothing torn and stained by dirt and oil. She stood before the tower of darkness, her eyes pulsing with an ice-white shine.
“You’re a coward,” Shiv told it. “You hide behind puppets and torture people for fun. And when you’re cornered you panic and hide like a little girl.”
Cross felt the air ripple. “Shiv…” he said.
“I’m not afraid of you anymore,” Shiv told the Eidolos. “Now I know what you are. And you can’t hide from me.”
And why would I hide from you, child? the Eidolos growled. The psychic echoes rattled Cross’s skull, and the beast lashed at the Kindred with shadow-dark appendages. You’re nothing.
Cross recovered his blade. The ground shook from the force of the Eidolos’ telepathic tremor.
“Listen!” Danica shouted.
A drone of sound built in the darkness of the cavern, rising to a crescendo. The dimensions of the curtain wall seemed to strain as the noise grew louder. The air turned electric with hex and death.
“You’re a murderer, Jor’rekkikan’theranos,” Shiv shouted. Her voice was tremendous, louder than the oncoming horde. The Eidolos reared up, grew, its remaining tentacles pulsating like fans of iron flesh.
Shiv roared in a voice not her own, an inhuman cry of rage. Cross saw a horde of ghosts claw their way up from the pits, a tidal wave of spectral force. The air tensed, poised. For a moment nothing moved, and the cavern was gripped by a terrible stillness, like glass about to break.
Shiv gasped. Cross moved to reach her, but that army of lost souls pushed him back. The cyclone of dead spirits unrolled through the air of the cavern, all of the Eidolos’ victims, every creature eliminated by its murderous acquisition of Raijin. Those lost souls fell upon their killer in a storm of claws and teeth.
The cavern shook. Chunks of stone ripped from the fortress. A wave of necrotic wind knocked Cross back and sucked at his strength.
The Eidolos made a last desperate push. Shadows bled like burning sludge. Shiv screamed in pain, but with that last scream her spirit army’s murderous frenzy finally pushed through. Blood fell over Shiv like black rain, but she stood resolute, pale eyes glaring at the grisly mass of darkness, watching as the spirit armada tore the creature to shreds.
The air turned brittle and cold. A thousand death cries rattled all at once. Shiv reached out her hand, spread her fingers, and whispered something Cross couldn’t hear, and at that motion the spiral of spirits twisted and tightened like a noose of ice, constricting the Eidolos until it broke. A blast of ghastly white light shot out in waves of frozen ember.
After a moment, everything went silent and still. The air turned cold, and gradually the darkness melted away, leaving them all bathed in grisly light.
Cross heard the sounds of the wilderness return, the distant thunder and desert winds. He stumbled to his feet and saw the open portal behind them, a natural doorway leading straight up a long and twisted tunnel and back to the city, which had bent and refolded to its original shape, just normal buildings once again.
Danica struggled to her feet, and Flint sat and embraced Shiv, whose eyes had faded back to normal. Reza was dead, her skull broken against the parapet wall.
Cross shuddered, and allowed himself to take a relieved breath.
The city was silent. Dead, but at peace at last.
TWENTY
TEARS
Reza lay color-bled against the wall, her skull dashed open and her blood spilling onto the stone. Her eyes wouldn’t close, and for some reason that really bothered Danica.
They passed back through the black embrace of the city. They weren’t sure if the Eidolos had any more minions in Raijin, but they didn’t want to wait around to find out. Though the city had returned to its original shape the place still reeked of hex mist and thaumaturgy, layers upon layers of twisted magical residue that left Danica’s spirit reeling as he guided them towards the main gates. Shadows hung thick in every door and alley, and though they were tempted to acquire additional supplies they decided it was best just to leave Raijin’s cursed streets as quickly as possible.
“I wish we could burn this place,” Flint said.
They worked their way through the fields of stakes, desperate to get back to Danica’s purloined airship before anything else went wrong. The black sky hung oppressively low and the cold desert night smelled of chemicals and rot. It was difficult to see in the murk, so her spirit lit the way, a pulsing ghost of flame.
T
hey hadn’t wanted to leave the bodies of all who’d died from the Skyhawk, but they knew they had little choice. Only a few had emerged from the near three dozen who’d escaped the crash, and there was no telling what the city’s original population had been, how many people the Nethermost tyrant had slaughtered in its drive to conquer the region.
Hundreds, Danica thought. Maybe thousands. The number seemed so unreal it was almost ridiculous.
They reached the vessel, which had thankfully been left alone, and climbed aboard. Danica did her best to fly them away, but it was difficult with how badly she was shaking. That encounter with the Eidolos had unsettled her, tapped into some hidden fear. Tears stained her face.
Get a hold of yourself.
They flew over empty plains. Though it was near midnight the sky bore a dusky hue, like the sun refused to fully set, and the air was dry and cold. Danica’s spirit helped navigate a course back to where she and Ronan had parted ways, easy enough since she’d more or less stuck to the road and had only diverged at the end of her journey, when she’d seen the smoke that had led her to the downed airship.
Cross, Flint and Shiv huddled together at the back of the open deck, staying low to shield their bodies from the harsh wind. The sails flapped violently as they sped along, and the arcane turbines hummed noisily. The controls on the airship were archaic and jury-rigged – the vessel seemed to have been cobbled together from the remains of several others – and most of the labels on the panel were written in Nezzek’duulian, but with Cross’s help and the aid of her spirit they were able to decipher the various speed functions and keep an eye on their dwindling fuel supply.
“Will we make it?” Cross asked her.
“I don’t know,” she said.
They rocketed over the remains of blasted caravans and flew over inky pits and shattered rocks. As they drew closer to the leaning stone where she and Ronan had made contact with the Pale it occurred to her she should try and get Cross, Flint and Shiv the same sort of protection she and Ronan wore, and she vowed to do so as soon as they had some time to rest.
They hovered low over the area. “Where to now?” she asked herself out loud, and she was surprised when Shiv answered.
“That way,” the girl said. Her eyes had that eerie white shine, the same glow as when she’d somehow compelled the ghosts of Raijin’s dead to swarm over the Eidolos and destroy it. “I hear them.”
“Hear them?” Flint said. “Hear who?”
“The voices of the lost,” Shiv said. She sounded eerily hollow and distant.
They decided not to question her, though Danica shared the worry she saw in both Flint’s and Cross’s eyes. Cross had told Danica that Shiv was a Kindred, though no one understood exactly what that meant.
One thing’s for certain, Danica thought. She’s a hell of a lot more powerful than any of us thought. Cross had quietly told her about his suspicions regarding Ankharra’s interests in Shiv, and the more she saw the more Danica was inclined to think he’d been right to be paranoid, even if in the end Ankharra had turned out to have nobler intentions than they’d given her credit for. Shiv’s level of power was incredible, even more than that of Danica’s old prisoner Lucan Keth. I hope she can maintain control. If she can’t, she’s not long for this world.
After a time Flint and Shiv fell asleep, leaving Danica to pilot the ship. Cross sat next to her in the small seat reserved for the co-pilot, though he had even less of a clue how to fly the pirate vessel than she did.
The wind whipped against them, and the air was so dark they seemed to float through a black sea. The inside of the ship was rusted and pitted iron covered with cloth blankets – comfort didn’t seem to have been a priority when they’d thrown the craft together. The vessel was well stocked, however, and they found a number of bolt-action M1 Garands, lots of ammunition, a few long-knives, some medical kits, plenty of cans of beans and fruit and a half dozen canteens of mostly clean water.
Red displays on the dash lit their faces in the gloom. Halogens mounted below cast pale beams on the desert landscape.
“You look good,” Danica told Cross after a while.
“Oh,” he laughed. “The shave. I almost forgot.”
“You don’t look like a guy in his late forties.”
“That’s good, because I feel like a guy in his late sixties,” Cross laughed. “Dani…thanks for coming after us.”
She watched the wastes as she flew. The controls pulled to the right, and she had to constantly correct them and fight the cross-winds even at that low altitude. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get there sooner.”
“I never should have let you go,” Cross said.
“I never should have gone.”
An awkward moment passed. They both knew what they wanted to talk about, but it seemed neither of them was willing to start.
“Dani, I…”
“I have to leave the team,” she said, and she hated herself for saying it, hated herself because in so many ways it wasn’t even true…but in so many ways it was.
She could tell he was stunned. She looked back at the desert and piloted the craft with butterflies in her stomach.
And how ridiculous is this? she thought. I’ve been to hell and back. I’ve lived through torture and being a slave to the Ebon Cities. But what terrifies me most is hurting you.
Cross sat quiet, looking straight ahead. The air was still and tense, even in the freezing wind.
They followed lines of half-constructed roads and railways. Some of them led to the never-completed Black Dust station, while others stretched off to other Nezzek’duulian cities, far-off places that might as well have been on other planets for all the good they did them now. The only signs of civilization they’d encountered in Nezzek’duul were conquered cities or arcane natives, those ghost-possessed freedom fighters caught up in a perpetual war. Danica began to wonder if there was anyone normal on the continent at all.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Yeah,” Cross answered. “Me, too.” He didn’t move, but he wouldn’t look at her, either, just stared out into the darkness.
“I hope you understand,” she said after a moment.
“No. I can’t say I do.”
More silence. Danica wasn’t sure what else to say. How could she make him understand when she couldn’t even sort out the mess inside her head?
Everyone she’d ever gotten close to had died. Cole’s death had nearly crushed her, and then she’d had to watch Mike die, too, and even though they’d never been romantically involved losing him had been worse. Her bond with Cole had been almost instantaneous, a spark of electricity and fire from out of nowhere, a natural attraction and connection she’d been searching for her entire life. Her connection with Kane had been more gradual, born of animosity, a slow-growing mutual respect and admiration; in spite of the circumstances with which they’d started their relationship Danica wound up being closer to him than she had with almost anyone.
And then there was Eric.
You can’t just barge in and change my life, she wanted to tell him. You can’t just show up one day and shift everything around, can’t mean so much to me and not expect one of us to get hurt. My life was in a shambles before you came along, but it was what it was. And now with you in it, I can’t imagine things any other way…and that scares the hell out of me.
But she couldn’t say that. She wasn’t even sure if it was true. Maybe she was still waiting for Lara. Maybe she was just crazy.
Maybe she’d never know.
Danica wasn’t sure what she could say. Nothing that would make sense, that was for sure.
“I’m sorry,” Cross said. It felt like it had been an eternity since either of them had spoken.
“What are you sorry for?” Danica said.
“I’m…I’m not sure,” he said. “Whatever it is I did.”
“It’s not that simple,” Danica said. She bit back tears, didn’t want him to hear the weakness in her voice. “I’m glad you’re back.
I’m glad you and I…got a second chance. And I’m sorry I can’t handle this.”
Cross hesitated. Neither of them was very good with people, and things had always been awkward between them.
But why does it have to be like that? she asked herself. He loves you, or at least he thinks he does…and maybe you love him. Why isn’t that enough?
But it wasn’t. Or maybe it was too much.
“Thank you,” she said. “For everything.”
Cross fidgeted. He rubbed his hands together, adjusted the ties on his combat boots and held tight as the ship buckled and flew through the night.
“Well,” he said. “You can’t leave yet,” he said. “So maybe…”
Danica nodded, and smiled. “Maybe we should hold off on the goodbyes for now?” she asked.
Cross nodded, and smiled weakly. Danica felt the pain of loss deep in her chest.
You bitch, she told herself. You’re just bound and determine to be miserable, aren’t you?
“We don’t exactly offer severance pay…” he said with a weak smile.
“It’s okay, you never offered medical, either.”
They laughed. It was forced, and pained, but it was better than nothing. He took a deep breath. She saw the edge of tears in his eyes.
“Dani…you know I care about you,” he said. “I might even be in love with you. I’m sorry if that…changes things.”
She nodded. “It changes everything,” she said with a grim smile. “I care about you, too, Eric. And I’m sorry I’m too fucked up to appreciate what I have.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way,” he said. “We can…”
“No,” she interrupted. “Not…not right now.” She felt a tear roll down her cheek. She looked at him. She saw the loss in his eyes, and heard the pain in her own voice. “I’m sorry,” she said.
He nodded. They said no more after that.
They flew southeast, in the last direction Shiv had pointed them in. With any luck they’d see some sign of Ronan, Creasy or the natives, so Danica kept her spirit out ahead searching for them. Smoke and sand rolled across the landscape, a choking storm of debris pushed by the gnarled wind. The ribs of dead trees broke through the sea of dust. Jagged remnants of wagons and the skeletons of great beasts were just visible through the smoke. The sharded edge of a canyon stretched to the north, but Shiv’s directions drove them further east. Clefts in the rocky terrain hid the ruins of long-abandoned settlements and mounds of crusted bone.
Chain of Shadows (Blood Skies, Book 6) Page 26