She didn’t see him pull out his wicked scythe from behind his back. He thrust its blade into her chest, pinning her to the gigantic stone behind her, twisting the jagged metal blade deeper and deeper until it finally stopped at the hilt. She could hear the muffled cracks and pops of splintering bone and shredding muscle as she struggled against the blade. Blood erupted into her lungs. It trickled down her chin and seeped from the crater in her chest. Her limbs hung numb and unflinching from her body despite her mind’s pleas. All she could feel was that strange warmth of the Anvalin, growing hotter and hotter. The warmth felt so peaceful that a withered smile fluttered across her ghostly face.
The Anvalin cracked, rumbling in its iron cage like thunder. The blue stone splintered in half, releasing the scythe’s blade from its surface. The ground gave a sudden lurch. Screams pierced inside the chamber from the war torn world outside. The city had begun to fall.
Her chest heaved against the metal for breath, her mouth spurting blood with each breath. “I will destroy you,” she said, letting the words hang in the air.
He howled as the floor rocked beneath him, running every which way to find some sort of escape. Finally, he stopped and stared at her, rage burning black in his eyes.
“I SHOULD HAVE KILLED YOU SOONER!”
She made a gurgling laugh. Her skin felt as if it were on fire. She didn’t notice the blue flames creeping along her body, crawling around her from the shattered Anvalin and pulling her deep into its exposed core.
Luthen’s screams melted away from her world. Astrid could no longer see the aged iron bars of the Anvalin’s chamber or even Merrick’s lifeless and mangled body. She was submerged into the Anvalin’s core like a babe in the womb. Ring clad fingers and gauntleted hands plucked the sword from her chest as if easily as removing a thorn from her finger. The Anvalin’s fire filled her lungs and trickled into every inch of her, twisting and jerking the pieces of her body until the skin on her chest and back laced together. Voices spoke, reciting words in a forgotten language. So many voices were melded together they sounded as though they were only one.
Then a face appeared, one Astrid recognized instantly.
“Mother—”
“—Hush, now. There is much to say and not enough time to speak,” she said, her hand appearing from the blue haze to brush back a piece of Astrid’s hair. “The world that your ancestors created is dying. The stone is broken. What we have tried to keep safe for generations has caused more danger than any enemy from the outside. We have become our own downfall. We have protected ourselves against the world we so feared that we have created our own evils. Luthen is the product of our ignorance. You, my daughter, must be our salvation.”
Astrid choked as tears overwhelmed her. “I am no one’s salvation. This is too much…”
Evanna’s eyes blazed. “Have I taught you nothing? Have you learned nothing? The city must fall. The people must learn suffering and pain. We will be strong again. But only through fire will we regain our strength. There is a greater evil than Luthen, a demon that will bring the destruction of worlds.”
“I don’t understand,” said Astrid. She suddenly felt as if she were being ripped from her sanctuary by the weight of the world.
“You will know where to go. We will guide you. Look to the sea.”
She fought to stay near her mother, swimming hard against the current of the Anvalin’s core. “Mother, don’t leave me!”
“Save us. Save us all.”
The core spilled onto the cracked tile floor, spitting out Astrid. Its warmth trickled away through the crevices of the stone leaving her body tingling with her own new found warmth. The chamber was empty except for Merrick’s hollow-eyed corpse. Luthen had fled. His heavy scent hung in the air like smoke though he was nowhere to be seen. The city suddenly gave another great heave, throwing Astrid up into the air.
She hobbled to her feet and hung her head out the window, searching the world outside. People ran frantic through the ragged stone streets—going mad, screaming, wailing, jumping from ledges or pushing others out of their way to find a safer grip. The city was tilting, dangling from the last threads of the Anvalin’s power.
A mighty gust and blur of red flashed before her eyes.
“Luka! You’re alive!” Astrid stood upon the chamber’s ledge, hanging by the warped metal frame.
“Of course I’m alive. It’s you I’m worried about,” he said, stretching his slender phoenix wings, preparing to catch a gust of wind with the twitch of his feathers. “Give me your hand! I have to get you out of here.”
Astrid hesitated, gazing at the hell around her.
“But the city—”
“—there’s nothing you can do! JUMP!”
She reluctantly sprung from the window and into his arms. The city grew small below her as another thunderous crack rattled the sky. It rocked as if the last cord had been cut. Astrid’s heart stopped as the city began its free fall.
“NO! LET ME GO!” She pounded and struggled. My people! What have I done? She could feel the fire of her ancestors burning inside her chest, begging to be released. “Trust me,” she whispered, the sudden calm shocking him enough for her to catch his gaze. “Please, let me go.”
Luka’s brow furrowed. Her gaze was reflected in his worried eyes. His hands slipped apart. She fell like a star through the clouds with arms spread. She felt a calm and power hotter than lightening burning throughout her body. Her fall slowed as she grew close to the city. Her skin was electrified with blue sparks and her eyes shone brighter than the sun. She could feel the weight of Alainia drag her down as she caught it in its descent, using up the Anvalin’s power to gently rest the city back into the earth. She pushed it away from the defenseless inner city of Limra toward its outer streets.The power drained from her like water, leaving her emptied body to spiral down to the black world below.
***
“Wake up, Astrid. Please… wake up.”
She thought she could feel Luka’s clawed fingers caressing her cheek, but no matter how much she fought her eyes would not open. Her body felt as if it were drifting in a cold pool of water, blindly waiting to reach the surface. She reached out to his voice, fighting against the numbing darkness.
“Please,” he begged. “Don’t leave me.”
She could now feel the steam from his tears on her face. Astrid managed to open her eyes to a small sliver of the world. Snakes slithered against the gritty sand while the breeze whispered its secrets.
“Please, Astrid. I love you.”
Air exploded into her lungs as if she were breathing for the first time. Every gulp, every breath stung with the sweetness of a crisp summer night, a taste she had long forgotten.
He laughed and kissed her face as she struggled against his embrace to sit up. Her mind was spinning a web of questions. Everything around her seemed to be magnified. Rugged underbrush creaking in the breeze pounded in her head like thunder. Animals that had crept in the shadows of the night, usually unseen, stopped frozen in their tracks to meet her gaze. The distant smell of bloodied, burning flesh assaulted her nose.
“Astrid, what’s wrong?” He turned her head in his hands. “Astrid—your eyes…”
“My eyes?” Each word was a labor to her lips.
“They’re black. I don’t understand. They look like—his.” His large fiery eyes pleaded for an answer.
“Luka,” she said, trying not to meet his gaze, “I have to leave here.”
“Leave?” The feathers across face and neck stood on end. “After all you have done, all we have done? These people need you, especially now.”
“They don’t need me. They have Ethen and the clan. They have you—”
“—I need you! Don’t do this to me. Not now.” He pushed her away and stood with his wings unfurled, his gaze burning down at her. She hid her hurt even though she knew he had created a distance between them to keep from scorching her from his rage.
“Guide the survivors to our village where th
ey can rejoin their kin. Alainia is forsaken. You must remind them of this. Their new life will be rough, but it is well worth their freedom.” Astrid pushed herself to her feet, trying to brush the distractions of the night aside in her mind.
She could feel his eyes on her. She could even hear his heart pounding hard in his chest. The sound of breath catching in his throat as he tried to find the words to say echoed in her head.
“I have to tell you one last thing, Luka, before I go…” Her breath rattled in her tightening throat, trying to fight back the tears. “Merrick, your father, and Ilsie… I’m afraid they’re—”
“—Dead,” he said, not in questioning, but almost in acceptance.
Astrid narrowed her eyes, confused. “How did you know?”
Luka turned away from her, trying to hide his rage. “It’s better this way.”
“How did you know?” She felt panic squeeze her throat. “Luka, what have you done?”
Luka spun around, towering over her. “You have no idea what he did to me, do you? He left me to die in that damned canyon. Luthen was right, he deserved to die. And Ilsie was just as wicked as he was.”
She felt her knees weaken. “Luthen?” Her chest heaved as she fought back her rage. “You and that—monster! How could you?”
Luka opened his mouth but the words escaped him. The feathers around his face flattened as his eyes dulled to a simmer. “I’m so sorry.” He kicked off the ground and soared into the air, leaving his empty words hanging in the air like the snap of a hangman’s noose.
His great blazing wings pounded into the night sky, leaving Astrid bound to the ruins of the earth below. She did not protest, or shake her fist at the desert sky. Nor did she spit at the crumbling city that lay in heaps around her.
“Luka!” Her voice howled into the empty air.
—I love you.
Astrid’s eyes came crashing to the ground. Near her feet lay the wicked scythe that had once pierced her chest. She reached down and grasped it in her hands. It called to her. She could feel its power vibrating in her hands. As she turned it over in her grip, the scythe folded shut into a simple piece of metal.
Astrid clutched it close to her chest, longing for it to be Luka instead.
***
Look to the sea.
Those were the last words her dead mother had said.
She glanced over her shoulder. One last look, that’s all she wanted.
The salty air burned her throat. Or was it the long-forgotten pain slowly creeping back from the place she kept it locked so tightly away?
Memories blurred along with her vision. She held her eyes open, straining to hold back eager tears from tumbling down her cheeks.
There is nothing left for me here, she thought, turning back toward the waiting ship and away from the familiar rocky landscape. The Grand Sage would welcome the refugee Alainians into the village, just as the Phoenix Tribe had done with their elven ancestors all those years before. There was no need for queens in the Great Desert.
Astrid hadn’t even said goodbye to Ethen, knowing that if he knew of her plan he would never let her go.
The small vessel creaked as it swayed on the foamy water, tugging at the ropes that held it secure to the dock. The wood had once been painted black and trimmed in gold but had faded in the vicious sun. Flecks of yellow still shone in the deep crevices along the bow and sides. The sails were a faded green and looked like the sun-bleached fins of a dead fish. On the side was written Jade Swan. This was indeed the saddest bird she had ever seen.
It wasn’t much. But it was an escape. It was freedom.
She pulled her hood over her face as she picked her way up the warping ramp onto the deck of the ship. There was no need to reveal her face just yet, not until she knew it was safe.
Sprawled out on the deck was a man with filthy canvas trousers. He was reclined against the main mast, a piece of straw sticking out the corner of his mouth, humming away like the drone of a honey bee. His bald head shone like glass in the morning light.
“I wasn’t expecting any visitors,” he said without opening his eyes. “I hope I don’t owe you money. Otherwise, I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you and throw you overboard.”
“I was looking for the captain,” she said, her hand silently resting on the knife hidden inside the folds of her cloak. She had learned long ago it was better to take a warning seriously and be alive than to laugh off a threat and find yourself sinking to the bottom of the sea.
“And what makes you think I’m not the captain?” His angled eyes snapped open beneath his spider leg brows and glared at her.
“You don’t look big enough to be the cabin boy—”
The words slipped out before she could stop them. Maybe it was the heat that dulled her senses. Or maybe the urge to do whatever it took to leave this place.
The man sprang to his feet, huffing like an enraged bull. He stood with his hardened coal eyes leering at her. The top of his head barely reached her shoulder.
“WHY DON’T YOU COME DOWN HERE AND SAY THAT TO MY FAC—”
Suddenly, the doors to the main cabin slammed open. A slender tan face poked out the doorway with an irritated scowl. A band of red silk was tied around his forehead, pulling back clumps of greasy black hair from his face. He would have been handsome if it weren’t for the smudges of ink on his cheek and the glint of a hard life of suffering in his eyes.
“Junjie! What are you doing? Get back to work!” Their eyes met for a few seconds before Junjie succumbed to his captain’s will. He shot one last dirty look at her before scurrying up the mast.
The captain stepped out onto the deck, shielding his eyes for only a moment against the glare of the rising sun. His clothes weren’t quite exquisite, but did show he had taste and cared more for his personal appearance than he did his ship.
“You must be the latest addition to my merry crew. However, I regret to inform you that you’re services are no longer needed.” He dipped his head and rushed back to his cabin. She caught him by the shoulder. He stopped short, almost in shock. “I said,” he recoiled as if bitten by a snake, “you are no longer needed. Now take your leave!”
“Wait. I need this,” she said, pleading. She tried her best to keep her voice from catching in her throat. Instead it crackled like the dried wood beneath her feet.
She didn’t know if it was the desperation in her voice or a hidden weakness in the captain, but something had struck a nerve inside of him. He turned and faced her, his brow creased and his jaw jutted out like the hull of the Jade Swan.
“Why? What do you want so badly?” He reached up to lift the heavy cowl hiding her face. “What’s your name?”
“Astrid,” she said, letting the hood fall back against her shoulders. “I want to be free.”
Chapter Eight
I tore myself from his tale, ripping myself from the seams of my sanity. Rage exploded inside me as I threw by body back from his touch.
“Luka.” I breathe his name. I sink venom into it and gnash it against my barred teeth.
He hangs his head in defeat. “You always hate me. No matter how I tell you, you always hate me in the end.” He rises slowly from his seat. His icy blue eyes brim with sorrow, threatening to overflow and drown him. He reaches his hand out to me but I am faster. Instead my response is to strike him across the face.
We are both speechless in our pain.
Luka wipes the trickle of dark blue from his broken lip. “Please,” he says, begging now. “I’m not finished. There’s more I have to tell you, you must listen.” His words are weak. He is weary from fighting for so long.
“I’ve heard enough,” I say. My eyes strain to find a way out. A narrow black door stands out like a splinter in the vast white stone walls. “I want nothing more from this horrible place—or from you.”
I run for the door and push hard against the cold metal. I hear Luka running behind me, driving my legs to carry me faster. They carry me down an empty hall. My bare foot
steps sound hollow against the perfect white stones beneath them.
Luka claws at my dress. The shimmering silk is caught by his grasp. It gives way with a painful rip. For the first time, I can fill my lungs completely. I leave him clutching the empty material and run with all my strength.
At the far end of the hall are two great doors made of twisted black metal. I slam into them, pushing them open with the force of my sprinting body.
Rust-filled air bites at my lungs. I find myself on an open terrace overlooking the monstrous city below. My stomach lurches at the vile smear of clouds above my head.
A figure in black stands overlooking the rotting city. Dark hair floats in the musty wind behind him, slipping from behind his slender, pointed ears. His skin is porcelain, perfect like the white palace stones.
He turns toward me and meets my gaze. His black eyes drive the breath from my lips. I know his face. It fills me with dread and fear. I feel the icy darkness of his stare seep into my frantic heart.
He shakes his head as he drags his eyes up and down my quivering body. “It seems you’ve been up to no good,” he says, flicking my hair from my face. “That won’t do at all.”
“My lord, I can explain,” Luka says. “She is having trouble forgetting. She’s strong-willed, that’s all.” He is panting as he sweeps into a quick, low bow. He hesitates, letting the lie settle in the air before continuing.
“Of course she is,” he says. He takes my face in his hand and stares into my eyes. “That’s why she’ll make a wonderful host for me to use. And why it’s also necessary to break her before I inhabit her.”
Luthen.
His name slithers into my mind. He is the reason for all the evil in my life. He is the reason why my body shakes with fury. My hatred burns red hot inside me.
“Ah,” he says. He senses my wrath. “I see you remember me. But tell me, do you remember everything I’ve done to you? Everyone I’ve killed? No? Maybe the ways I’ve abused you—”
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