Angel of Darkness Books 6-10

by Mackenzie Morris

  Jaylen reached out for her again. "Don't be like this."

  "Jaylen, I want to love you. I do, but your mind isn't in the right place. You should be grieving, not here kissing me. I can't replace Kato."

  "Then just hold my hand?"

  "Of course." Liaxa took his hand in hers, but then held it up in the dim light to see the sheen of dull silver. "Jaylen, is this a wedding ring?"

  "Yes. I married Kato before she died. We had one night together. Then the next morning, demons attacked on Ka'taylin ships under Wolfekin and Divinus's command. By that night, the entire island was on fire and I had led most of the children to safety. But I wasn't fast enough or strong enough to save my wife."

  "It's not your fault. None of that is your fault."

  "But that's where you're wrong, Liaxa. Didn't you wonder how I was able to defeat a being as powerful as Divinus on my own? Can't you tell something different about me?"

  "No. Should I?"

  Jaylen removed his cloak then untied the laces of his tunic. He pulled it apart to reveal the black X on his smooth chest. "I'm an apostate now. I left the church. I left Sola. When I did, I became the Angel of Darkness. There is something inside me with glowing wings and a power I didn't have to have my amulet for. It just happened. I needed it, and it appeared."

  "I see."

  "Are you scared of me?" Jaylen asked, scanning over her face carefully with his eyes. "I thought demons weren't bothered by dark powers."

  "It's not that . . . it's just . . . you broke your vows?"

  "All of them. I'm no longer the same Jaylen I was years ago when we were together, Liaxa. That Jaylen is gone and is never coming back. I have been awakened to the true ways of the world. I've seen the pure evil that lives out there. I was closed off from that knowledge by the church so that I would be an unquestioning sacrifice in The Cleansing, but I have been awakened. I can never go back to being that."

  "No one is asking you to do that."

  Jaylen closed his eyes for a few seconds then tried to hide his face as he discretely dried his eyes on his sleeve. "I came to get you out. We need all the help we can get, even if you did betray us before. I hold firmly to my belief that you are a good person, demon or not. I want you to join us. I have a military and a country that is regrowing and rebuilding. Vilyron will rise again with me as its king."

  She crossed her arms on her dirty velvet corset. "Well, until you get Jeremiah up here to let me out, there's not much I can do. Besides, I have a stipulation myself. Just because you feel I wronged you before and you're king and all doesn't mean that I have to unquestionably obey every order you give me."

  "Of course. What do you need in exchange for your help?"

  "My father. He's hurting. I can feel it. You have to get him back, wherever he is. You haven't heard from him, have you?"

  Jaylen retied the laces of his tunic and pulled his cloak back on. "No. I haven't heard from Gavin in a long time. I'm trying to find him. We all are. I will keep looking until I find him. We'll save him."

  "Not just so you can kill him and kill Carvael as a result?"

  "I will find another way to kill Carvael that doesn't sacrifice your father. You have my word."

  A tall man with slick brown hair tucked neatly behind his ears and a curly mustache walked into the hallway, wiping the slime off of his light leather jacket. "This place is disgusting, Jaylen. We need to go. They're bound to have noticed our absence back at camp. Even I don't want to get on that seraph's bad side."

  "Who is this?" Liaxa asked, studying the man. "Oh, wait. I remember you. You had some stupid name. Leader? Yes. Leader. That was your stupid name."

  Leader rolled his eyes and sighed. "Well, are we taking this spitfire with us, or not? Surely you didn't trek all the way out here just to speak with her."

  "Give us a few more minutes."

  "No can do. Sorry, Jaylen. There is a storm blowing in and I'm afraid we might get stuck up here. The horses need food."

  "All right. You go get them ready to leave. I will join you as soon as I can." Jaylen waited until Leader had exited the cave before taking Liaxa's hand again and pressing his face against the bars. "I will find Gavin and I will get you out of here. I swear it. Even if you think I'm just seeking you for comfort after losing Kato, know that I do value you as a friend. I once told you that I loved you, Liaxa. I'm not one to tell lies. I still love you. I have to go, but I will be back for you. Take care of yourself. Eat. Rest. I'm thinking of you. Goodbye, dearest."

  Liaxa swallowed back tears as she watched him leave the cave. "Goodbye, Jaylen."

  Chapter 5

  It had been a strenuous journey from Krenoa Island to the shores of Ka'tayl with just Amari at his side, but Xair hoped it was worth it. In his most troubled times, he still reverted back to the religion he once held so dear. Over the years, he had fallen out of practicing the various rituals and reciting chants in the temples to the Arcanas, but he still revered them with an inner undying devotion. He had questions that needed answers that only the Arcanas could give him. Though he had never actually heard their voices, he could feel them telling him things, communicating with him through the magic that flowed through his veins. And he needed that communication now more than ever.

  Xair's bare feet quietly tapped against the polished marble floor of the icy temple as he made his way down the empty corridor of the inner sanctum. His clothes laid in a pile at the entrance so he could be exposed and approach the Arcanas in as natural a way as possible, the same way he was taught as a young boy. His breath lingered like fog in the air and a shiver passed over his skin, but he focused on the reason he was here. He glanced behind him at the crumbling entrance that had long ago started falling apart under the strain of the ice and weather. Women other than priestesses were not allowed inside the temple except for weddings, so Amari was sitting outside underneath the decrepit archway that had once been adorned with fragrant flowers and vibrantly-colored silk ribbons. Now only the bluish leaves of frost ivy wound around the weathered grey stones. It was the only plant that could grow well in the ice and the snow up here, but Xair clung to the hope that maybe its appearance was a sign of the thaw he had been waiting for. Perhaps it was a sign that the Arcanas had truly forgiven him.

  Once, these venerated halls were filled with newborn Ka'taylin boys being inducted into society through the same ritual of cutting that Xair had gone through. He was glad that he had been too young to remember it. When he was younger, he had viewed the ritual with the same view that the elders held about it. It was necessary for the full flow of magic through a pure Ka'taylin man's body as well as for aesthetic purposes. But that was before Xair had known what had been done to him. A thousand years living around Northerners who didn't hold the same customs opened his eyes to the mutilation that had been performed on his most private of areas. All of those deep cuts, burns, and incisions between his legs went from being a symbol of his entitlement and prestige to being a source of shame, confusion, and emasculation.

  How could he still feel so indebted and reverent to the religion that forced him to be disfigured in that manner? Xair didn't have an answer for that. All he knew was this was the way it had always been. That had to be reason enough.

  He took a few deep breaths to calm his emotions before kneeling in front of the four obsidian braziers resting on the tattered purple cloth of the ivory altar. Doubting was a sign of a sinner. Xair couldn't afford any more sins to be held against him, so he pressed back his fears and questions. They would have their time, which was not now. With a fist held over his heart, he stared at the four empty braziers and imagined them dancing with the four elements. His whispering voice echoed lightly in the room. "I live to serve the Arcanas. You gave me life so I could serve. You gave me a mind so I could think of you. You gave me a mouth so I could speak to you. You gave me blood to spill for you. You gave me hands to kill for you." He stopped there, feeling the harshness in those words for the very first time. They tasted sour on his tongue, but
he clenched his fist tighter and continued the traditional prayer. "You gave me magic to cast for you. You gave me eyes to see the blessings you have given to your holy people. I am one of your pure servants. I am Xair Korvin, son of the Elder Dragon Karixlesminatim and of Mawrin Tivera. Pure of birth and breeding, I open myself to your commands. I pray you find me worthy of your voice."

  No one answered him. They never did in that way.

  "Most powerful Arcanas, I come into your presence again to beg you for clarity in these dark and troubling times. I have become all too aware of my transgressions and I was willing to make amends for them. I was following your will, performing the tasks you gave to me on that list in my mind. I was doing my best until I was thrown out of my raven form. That was none of my own doing. You know as well as I do that I couldn't have ended that on my own if I had wanted to do so. I did hate it so. Though you already know that, I suppose. Do not mistake my complaints as indignation. I realize that being a pure Ka'taylin man requires many unpleasant yet necessary sacrifices. Just . . . please ease my doubting mind. Please let me know that I am not doing all of this for naught. Now my demons are rising up against me. Angels and demons are fighting together to destroy humanity. For the first time in my life, I am terrified of what may become of Aldexa. I beg you to let me hear your voice. Give me strength."

  ."Xair Korvin."

  Xair looked up from the floor to the four braziers that stood lifeless before him. He could have sworn he heard a female voice. "Hello? Arcanas?"

  "No. I am Sola. Surely you remember me?"

  "Oh, Arcanas help me."

  "Do not be afraid, honorable Ka'taylin. I hold no grudge, wish no vengeance for what you did to me a thousand years ago. If you look inside yourself, you will realize that you were under the control and influence of Carvael the entire time. You were doing what you believed was the right thing because of his manipulation."

  "Why speak to me?" Xair asked, trying to come to terms with any scrap of truth he could find. "There are many others who have been begging, pleading, praying to hear your voice. Jaylen Corrifus needed you, but you remained silent. There is not another man on this planet that sought you like he did."

  "Jaylen will have his purpose, but he is not the one I need right now. I need you, Xair Korvin. You will be my prophet."

  He scoffed and shook his head. "Your prophet? I mean you no offense, but I am not a follower of yours."

  "That is where you are wrong, so sadly mistaken. Watch these braziers you value so highly."

  One by one, the braziers came to life. Earth, water, fire, and electricity danced in them, casting an array of colorful energies against the stone wall behind them.

  "No."

  "Don't you see, my Ka'taylin doubter?" Sola asked. "From the beginning of time, I have been the Arcanas. The Arcanas are me. We are five beings, but one combined. The Arcanas serve me in Aldexa. The entire time you worshiped the Arcanas, you have been worshipping me as well."

  "How? None of this makes any sense."

  "All will be revealed to you in time. Right now, we do not have time to spare. I am being held captive by rogue angels. You have to tell my seraphs that I am alive. But I need their help."

  Completely overwhelmed with awe and confusion, Xair looked up towards the cracked ceiling with his arms outstretched. "What will you have me do?"

  "You must hurry. I need you . . . help . . . please, don't! Stop! Tarael, no!"

  Xair shivered in the icy air as the female voice went from a scream to dead silent. He stood up and dressed, waiting to hear her voice again. "Hello? Sola?"

  Once more, the braziers faded to nothing and the temple remained silent as if it had never housed a single voice in history.

  * * *

  Once Xair rejoined his wife on the steps of the temple, he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her closer than he ever had before. He needed to feel her, to know that he still had her even if every truth around him fell away to nothing. As long as he had Amari, he would be all right. "My Ili-Anan, I have news from the Arcanas. Actually, it is from Sola herself. I have been so wrong, my people have been so wrong this entire time. When we were worshipping the Arcanas, we were worshipping Sola. She spoke to me directly. She called me her prophet. Amari, things are changing. Things are not good, but Sola has chosen me to her word to the world. She needs me."

  Amari kissed his neck below his jaw then nodded her head, her warm breath spreading over his skin.

  "I knew you would understand, my love."

  There was a sudden gust of wind and the rustle of feathers behind them. "Xair Korvin, you are needed back in Vilyron. I have come to retrieve you and carry you back hastily to help King Jaylen."

  Xair let his wife go then turned to see the pale-skinned angel with the black hair and wings. "Zeriel? What are you doing all the way down here? How did you get through the barrier?"

  "The barrier around the continent isn't in place any longer. Haven't you noticed the ice melting? Xair, Ka'tayl is thawing. We must be going."

  "How are you going to carry both me and Amari back to Vilyron? It's a long flight."

  "I may or may not have broken a friend out of his prison in The Veil without Jaylen's permission."

  Xair tilted his head curiously. "Huh?"

  "Oviel is waiting for us a little ways down the mountain. He is weak, but he should still be able to carry Amari to the Northern Continent without much trouble."

  "How did you get him out?"

  Zeriel rubbed his neck and glanced down at the snow-dusted ground. "I . . . I don't want to talk about it. Just take it for what it is. Do not ask what I had to do to make this happen. I'm not exactly proud of the lengths I had to go to in order to make this work, but Oviel is my friend. I owe him this."

  "Isn't Jaylen unprotected without you at his side?"

  "Not at all. He has Jeremiah's angels on constant watch. He knows that I was coming to retrieve you and Amari. But he doesn't know that I made a detour to rescue Oviel. I don't know how he will react once he sees him, but I am hoping everything will be worked out."

  Xair caught the angel's sleeve and stepped in front of him to look into his white eyes. "Zeriel, I have news. Sola spoke to me by name. I am her prophet."

  "You're certain?"

  "Yes. It was her. I have to speak with the seraphs. She is in need of their help."

  "We will deal with this later. One problem at a time, don't you agree?" Zeriel held out his hand to Xair. "Now, climb up on my back and hold on. It is a long flight to Vilyron."

  Chapter 6

  The red-haired incubus sat in a wooden chair in the middle of an empty room. A single narrow table was placed in front of him covered in various colored tiles underneath the flickering of a dying oil lamp. His grimy white pants and tunic were plastered to his skin with sweat and the oily salve from the deep gash running from the nape of his neck all the way to the base of his spine. Black and purple bruises spotted his arms where most of his muscles had atrophied away weeks ago. As his orange eyes tried to focus on the colors that had become so foreign to him after months locked away in a blindingly white room with no sound. He dragged his tongue over the smooth and still sensitive spots on his gums where his fangs used to be. They had been forcefully extracted after he started trying to rip open the veins in his arms so he could bleed out and end it all.

  Deep black circles surrounded his bloodshot eyes, evidence of the weeks of sleep deprivation he suffered at the hands of his captors who all would stand outside the white walls and listen to his groaning all hours of the day and night. Nothing passed through his mind as he stared at the tiles, mumbling something so incoherent that even he did not know what it meant. At this point, he would have been astonished that his lungs continued drawing air in and that his heart even cared enough to keep beating. That was, if he could have formed those thoughts.

  "Gavin? Gavin, look up at me."

  Without any fight left in him, Gavin looked up to see the black-winged bald angel standin
g in front of him with a metal tray piled high with various syringes and medical instruments in his hands. If he had been in his right mind, he would have tried to run. But even though he was not restrained in any way to the chair, Gavin had no desire to run. He knew only to stay and to obey.

  "Are you ready for this?"

  Gavin couldn't answer.

  "All right, then. One by one, I will say a color and you will then touch the corresponding tile. This will be one of many tests you will take in order to assess how well you have adapted to the addition of Sammy's soul. Now, we will begin. Gavin, touch the green tile."

  The colors hurt his eyes. The light was bright, but the flickering in the darkness made his pounding headache worse.

  "Gavin?"

  Gavin reached out slowly then pressed his bruised fingertip to the purple tile.

  "Gavin, that is incorrect. I asked you to touch the green tile." Axaniel moved the incubus's hand back. Then picked up a small syringe filled with clear liquid. He stabbed the needle into Gavin's arm then injected the contents, eliciting no response from the incubus. "All right, then. Gavin, touch the yellow tile."

  It took a few minutes for him to gain any sort of will to move. When he did, Gavin's finger once again found the purple tile.

  "That is incorrect." Axaniel frowned then set the tray down on the edge of the table. "Let's try doing this another way. Gavin, touch the purple tile."

  Purple? Purple. Gavin touched his finger against his own forearm. For a moment, he simply stared at the angel. Then he ravenously began scratching at his own skin and howling at the top of his lungs as the purple blood seeped out of the wound. Every fiber of his being wanted to get the blood out of his veins. He had to be free from the voice, that man's voice. It wasn't Sammy's voice. It was deeper, softer, and filled with overwhelming tones of grief and guilt. He wanted to escape, to be back in his own body. It was a voice he knew, an accent he remembered in the deepest memories of his life. Then a name came to him, screamed out through the darkness, the fog, the confusion. Xair Korvin. His dry and airy voice cried out the name, the syllables spilling from him like life-giving water. The more he called out the name, the more the soul within him stirred and awakened, begging in turn for release.