The Angel of Elydria (The Dawn Mirror Chronicles Book 1)

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The Angel of Elydria (The Dawn Mirror Chronicles Book 1) Page 24

by A. R. Meyering


  Penny was about to run from the sitting room and into the raging crowd when a very unwelcome face came out at her from the hazy darkness.

  Phobos was recognizable in the flickering darkness by his shiny bald head and the chained figure trailing behind him. He spotted Penny and charged forward, overtaking her in seconds, the blinking lights illuminating his crazed, gleeful grin.

  “Look what I’ve caught!” he cackled, gripping her wrist with vice-like strength and crushing it in his massive mitt until Penny screamed out in pain. Still holding Cyrus’s chain in his other hand, he shook Penny until she fell to her knees, crunching the bones in her wrist.

  “Why, you look like a quivering little grub, cowering like that!” He pushed his face closer and laughed into her ear. “What were you doing in here, little grub? Snooping, spying? Dear, oh dear…” His sour breath burned at Penny’s nostrils and she sputtered with mutual fear and disgust. Phobos shook her about again and laughed his high-pitched, malcontent chortle.

  Valentine emerged from the chaos, her face white and exhilarated as she called for Deimos, who joined them carrying a thrashing Annette over his shoulder. He came to an abrupt halt when he saw Phobos and Penny.

  “What the hell is going on in here?!” Deimos barked, dumping Annette onto the ground. In the dim light Penny could see Annette’s face shone with tears, and she whimpered when she spotted Penny. Their eyes locked for a moment, both aware what was going to happen to them. With a sharp kick to Phobos’s shin, Penny broke free of his hold and scrambled over to where Annette lay shivering on the ground.

  “I found her in the wardrobe! She was watching us,” Phobos said, unfazed by Penny’s feeble attack.

  “I’m so sorry, Annette,” Penny whispered in anguish, keeping an eye on Deimos as she clutched Annette. Deimos knelt down and clamped Penny’s face in his hand, scrutinizing her.

  “What did you hear? Who are you?” he demanded, gesturing for Valentine to head toward the open window. The biting night air was still blustering in, and outside fluttered a gigantic moth that was easily big enough to fit four or five people on its back. Penny realized this must have been how Phobos had gotten himself in, and how they were planning to escape. She looked at Deimos with wide eyes and a chattering jaw, unable to speak. Without warning, he slapped Penny in the face with such force it knocked her out of Annette’s arms.

  Annette screamed. Deimos advanced on Penny with a fierce expression as she shuddered on the floor. “I said, who are you?” he hissed.

  Penny wobbled to her feet and tried to stumble away, but Deimos withdrew a dagger from his belt and pinned Penny to the wall. Annette leapt to her feet as both Valentine and Phobos made a rush for her, leaving Cyrus motionless by the window. Annette took a huge breath, her chest expanding as they tried to bowl her over.

  “Someone please help us!” she screamed at the top of her lungs in that strange resonating tone that Penny could feel more than hear. Both Valentine and Phobos crashed into Annette, causing her to yelp with pain. Deimos pressed harder against Penny, his face inches from hers, his dagger cold against her neck. Penny had no doubt he would slit her throat wide open just to save time. She felt the edge of the sharp metal sting into her throat and the warm rush of blood that followed as he started to draw it across her neck.

  The sound of footsteps sped toward the door, and Penny saw the tall man in the military coat, the man she remembered as Damari, explode into the room with three rangers. Two of them made a grab for Valentine, but just as they took hold of her arms, Phobos pulled a heavy metal hammer from his belt and whipped it across their skulls.

  It struck twice with heavy, stomach-churning crunches, but Damari was too quick. He flew behind Deimos, drawing a shining saber that flashed in the darkness. Deimos had but a moment to block. As he yanked his knife away from Penny’s throat, she felt the razor-edge rip deeper into the wound and collapsed in a twitching heap, clutching her neck as blood oozed out. Her head was spinning at a hundred miles a second as she watched the dire fight between Damari and Deimos, their movements too swift to follow. More rangers were flowing into the room, drawing blades, flintlock pistols, and elongated golden rifles that looked something like blunderbusses.

  “Jump!” Deimos bellowed, diving for the window with Phobos and Valentine at his heels. Damari was the first after them, grasping after Deimos’s frock coat. Several guns went off, filling the air with choking powder. Deimos scooped Valentine up with one strong arm around her waist and she screamed as he leapt headfirst out of the window, followed by Phobos, who yanked Cyrus along with such violence that Penny was sure his neck would snap. The four of them plummeted out of the window, leaving the rangers gaping in confusion, only to realize Deimos and the others were making their escape on the back of a huge moth.

  “Alert the Griffin Unit! Go, now!” Damari shouted, and a ranger sped off on his orders.

  Annette crawled across the floor to Penny, who was trying to stay as still as she could, fearing that any movement would cause her to bleed out and die in a matter of seconds. She pressed hard onto the wound, feeling her own grip suffocating her.

  “She’s hurt! Help her!” Annette cried.

  Damari rushed over and put a strong arm around Penny, speaking in a deep, comforting voice, which somehow didn’t match his serious countenance. “Let me see,” he requested with gentle urgency. Without waiting for her compliance, his strong hands pried her trembling ones away from her throat and he inspected her wound in the gloom with squinted eyes. He patted her shoulder and pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket, pressing it to her neck.

  “Hold this here, you’ll be fine. It’s only a tiny cut,” he assured her, helping Annette and Penny to their feet. “Get to somewhere safe, but be careful―there’s still one wraith out there somewhere. I shot the other one,” he cautioned. Penny nodded and ran out of the room, still clutching Annette’s trembling hand.

  In the ballroom they shot head-first into the mess of screaming people. Penny’s stomach did a somersault when she almost tripped over the body of a trampled faery noblewoman, lying still and beautiful on the ballroom floor. She regained her balance and continued on, dragging Annette behind her.

  “Hector! Simon!” Annette screamed over the tumult. “Gavin!”

  Penny pushed past a few shivering girls, wishing she could move faster but feeling she had to protect Annette. She was sick with dread at the thought of seeing Simon’s crushed body on the floor or Hector lying dead against the wall, gored by a wraith. Reaching the center of the room they became trapped in the mass of people, unable to move. Annette’s face fell onto Penny’s shoulder, her tears mixing with the blood from Penny’s wound.

  “Penny…Penny…” she howled, her entire body shaking in tremors. Penny rubbed her back, looking from one frightened face to the next, her panic rising to the verge of insanity. She couldn’t think what to do next, and then her chest filled with relief at something shining in the gloom.

  A trembling golden thread was sprouting out of her chest. Within moments Hector came fighting his way toward them, Simon clutching at his sleeves and Gavin’s pale face bobbing behind them. When Gavin saw Annette, he shoved a man out of the way and tore her from Penny’s arms, pulling her to his chest. Hector went straight for Penny, his eyes swimming with nauseated fear as he spied the blood-stained cloth Penny held to her neck. He took her by the shoulders, unable to form coherent words.

  “I’m okay, it’s just a cut,” she sputtered.

  Hector exhaled, pulling Penny into a one-armed embrace and shielding her at his side amidst the sea of people. Simon clung to her other side, looking as if he might be sick at any moment.

  The group of them huddled together. Everyone in the ballroom surged in a mad rush for the exit. The ballroom was clearing and some of the rangers were calling orders into the crowd to try and get the party guests settled. Penny was about to ask if they had caught the remaining wraith when a shrieking wail answered the question for her. The sound came from
the cavernous end of the hall and the river of evacuating guests came to a sudden stop and then launched into reverse, desperate screams beginning anew. Hector’s chest heaved against her ear.

  “Annette!” Hector called over the frantic cries. “Make everyone but us back up against the wall immediately. Simon, get your wand out!”

  Simon nodded, withdrawing his wand and biting his bottom lip to stop his teeth from chattering. After telling them all to cover their ears, Annette once again took a mighty breath with her trained, songstress’s lungs and let out an ear-piercing yell.

  “EVERYONE, GET AGAINST THE WALL!”

  The trampling feet slowed and began moving in a uniform pattern, eyes huge as the guests pressed themselves against the walls. Annette joined them, blending in like any other guest.

  “Penelope, brace yourself!” Hector shouted, gripping her shoulder with a near-painful force as Simon raised his wand.

  All was quiet for a fraction of a second until, without warning, a malformed beast exploded into the hall, roaring and snarling. It had two milky white eyes, resembling the goblin it had been made from, and the same needle-sharp teeth, but they were long and pierced through its own flesh at odd angles. The body had grown large and deformed and had sprouted sharp bones and claws that coursed slick, black blood down its back. The wraith tore with inhuman speed toward Hector, Simon, and Penny, its black mouth open and ready to tear them to shreds. Penny could smell its rotten breath and see down its long, deep esophagus, the teeth and splintery bones poking out down every inch of its quivering, ebony throat. Mere seconds before it reached them, Penny felt all the magic drain from her body.

  The chandelier exploded. Glass broke from every inch around them with an ear-rending sound of splintering crystal. Hector’s hands alighted with fireworks of red and silver runes, which wrapped around the shards of glass that filled the air like acid rain. Vortices of fiery magic overtook Hector’s entire body as a million gleaming fragments showered down upon the wraith. Hector shouted and threw his hands out in front of him, Penny still clinging to his body, willing all her strength into him as he directed every shard of glass at the wraith.

  “Simon! Keep it steady!” Hector shouted, squinting through the glass storm that threatened to cut them all to ribbons if Hector made a single wrong move. Simon flicked his wand in the direction of the wraith, which seemed to slow its movements. One by one, the glass windows exploded and joined the torrent in the center of the room.

  The shards began to form a glass prison around the wailing and spitting wraith as blobs of black blood dripped out of the creature. With a final twist of his hands, Hector forced the shards to solidify around the body of the beast and form an unbreakable sphere of thick glass. The glass sealed itself with a deep cracking noise, trapping the howling and screeching wraith within. Simon struggled to keep the spherical prison suspended in the air with his wand.

  The crowd was deathly silent, their eyes traveling from the wraith to Hector and back. Penny looked up at Hector’s face. He was paler than a ghost, and his eyelids fluttered. His legs went weak and he stumbled to the ground, passing out. Penny shouldered his weight and eased him to the ground.

  A lone figure stepped out from the crowd, his strong shoulders thrown back and his head held high.

  Penny recognized Noah with a start. He grasped a beautiful sword encrusted with emeralds in his hand and addressed the crowd. “You there,” he pointed to a man in a red ranger’s coat. The man hurried from the huddle of the crowd and saluted Noah. “Find Captain Baldera, and see to it that he has secured the goblin survivor and prepared him for questioning. Tell him I’ll be with him shortly.”

  “Yes, your Majesty!” the ranger cried and scrambled out of the room as fast as he could.

  Your Majesty? Penny wondered, and understanding hit her like a locomotive going at full speed.

  Noah turned back to the crowd. “Cardinal Rhea. Please…” he beckoned, and Cardinal Rhea stepped out from the crowd, her eyes still covered by the metal blinder. With great precision she stepped up to the glass prison and, pulling a silver flute from her cloak, began to play a low, melancholy song. The wraith’s shrieks grew fewer and weaker, collapsing as death swept over it at last. Simon lowered the orb to the ground. Penny shivered as Noah turned toward her and her friends.

  “You five―yes, I said five, Miss Deveaux,” Noah pointed over at Annette and Gavin in the crowd, “Please come with me.”

  A loaded silence filled the room. Hector lay motionless on a couch, so soundly asleep he appeared dead. Penny and Simon sat on another couch while Gavin paced from one end of the room to the other. Annette leaned up against the wall, tapping her foot with arrhythmic irritation. Simon covered his face with his hands and moaned.

  “Why is he keeping us waiting like this?” he groaned. “It isn’t right to just dump us here with no word of what’s to become of us. What could he possibly be doing?”

  “Some people just died, Simon. Part of the palace was destroyed―there are questions that need answering. Just give him time. It’s lucky we’re able to make our case directly to the king instead of being thrown in a dungeon to rot or something,” Penny said, not taking her eyes off Hector. His complexion was pallid and his breathing seemed shallow.

  “Maybe you two had better let me do the talking once the king finally gets here,” Annette suggested, sounding exhausted. Penny and Simon both nodded, neither of them eager to explain this messy situation.

  The door handle turned with a small click, and everyone but Hector straightened. Gavin sprinted across the room to join Annette. Four pairs of eyes fixed on Damari as he entered the room and cleared his throat to speak.

  “His Majesty will see you now. Please act respectfully and speak only when spoken to,” he instructed. Penny might have imagined it, but she thought his eyes lingered on her a moment longer than the others and she looked down at her knees. She wanted to leap up and explain that she hadn’t known who Noah was before, but kept silent as Damari trudged off, leaving the door open behind him. Moments later Noah stepped into the room, a troubled expression on his face. Annette gestured for Simon and Penny to get to their feet and they obeyed.

  “Good evening, Miss Deveaux, Mr. Deveaux, Miss Fairfax,” the king greeted each one of them with a nod of his head, stopping at Simon, who provided his and Hector’s surnames.

  Annette looked a bit alarmed. “I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but how is it that you know Pen―”

  “I met your language tutor earlier in the evening,” he said, looking at Penny. Annette blinked, piecing together the information. Noah continued, “Let’s not waste time with trivialities…I need some answers from you. And don’t bother with all the ‘Your Majesty’ nonsense. Please, be seated.”

  “I’d be more than happy to explain everything,” Annette complied, subtle charm underlying her words.

  “Please do. Why were you attacked by Valentine Frost and Baron Deimos Geller? How did Phobos Geller escape and how has he overcome his madness? How did your friend here perform such brilliant magic without the use of a tool? And most importantly, how did the wraiths get into the castle? The goblin prisoner isn’t talking, but at least we know that the goblins must have some hand in this. I wonder if you might shed some light on this.”

  Annette remained motionless, her expression a perfect mask as she thought. Penny prayed she knew what she was doing. At long last Annette seemed to have found the right words.

  “Two weeks ago while attending my play, Penny overheard Valentine speaking to Deimos about a plan to try and abduct me and warned me about it,” Annette began, slow and deliberate. Penny knew from her careful omission of Penny’s abilities that they were not to speak of their coming from Earth. Noah seemed to accept this and Annette continued.

  “I wanted to keep this whole thing quiet. I’m sure you’d understand what going public with this sort of thing might entail, and Mr. Arlington here is gifted with the ability to perform magic without the use of any tool, so I
hired him as my private bodyguard.”

  “It makes sense, I suppose, though you should have alerted the authorities,” Noah reprimanded her. “But that still doesn’t explain why Valentine would want to kidnap you.” Annette’s eyes glazed and Penny knew she was no longer acting or calculating her responses.

  “She’s hated me ever since I was young. It’s because of our petty rivalry,” Annette admitted.

  “Very well, then. Do you know anything about the wraiths? Or the Geller siblings?” Noah pressed. Annette started to shake her head when Penny looked up.

  Noah looked at her with surprise. “Penny? You know something?” he prodded. Something about the way he said her nickname made her heart flutter again and she cleared her throat.

  “Erm, I might,” she confessed. “I saw them coming and hid when I heard them come into the room—just before the wraiths appeared,” she explained, hoping that she wouldn’t hinder their release for admitting this. “The big bald guy, Phobos―he took this man away with him―he had a weird eye and a metal arm. I think he called him Cyrus—he had an eidolorbe on him. There were three goblins that met them, and Phobos and Deimos also knew their full names,” Penny stated, and she watched Noah rub his temple as he thought.

  “Erm, please. What exactly happened with those two? I mean, didn’t Phobos make a wraith before?” Penny questioned.

  Noah looked up, surprised. “You don’t remember? It happened only a few years back; it was all over the Sophotri Stones.”

  Penny shook her head, waiting for him to continue.

  “According to Deimos’s testimony, Phobos had been studying all types of dark magic…he was heavily involved with crime syndicates in the Dewthorne district. Their father, who was baron at the time, had been hunting his son for years and finally got proof enough to lock him away. Regretfully, before he could complete this, Phobos turned his own father into a wraith.

 

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