“It can’t be―” Nestor’s voice was musical, dangerous, and astonished.
Valentine turned to identify the interruption and stopped speaking at once, the silver bowl slipping from her hands and crashing to the floor.
“Seival’s hands…” Nestor’s eyes widened, looking like two moons in the shadowy room as he beheld Hector for a moment. All at once he rushed forward, his white arms outstretched.
Knowing he had no chance of teleporting them to safety with Simon’s magic so depleted, Hector grabbed his companions by each of their shoulders and threw them out of the way. A confused murmur spread through the crowd below as the king failed to resume his speech. Hector helped Annette and Simon to their feet as Nestor struggled to regain his footing. The Angel’s movements were sluggish, his expression belabored.
“Get them!” Nestor commanded Valentine as his wings shook with rage, sending a shower of feathers through the air. “Don’t let them be seen!”
With blazing eyes Valentine leapt over the mess of the broken bowl and threw herself at Annette, sending them tumbling to the ground. Nestor yanked the chain at his feet and Cyrus shook into his unnatural movements and lunged for Simon. His ghastly white face and dead eye remained still, even as he caught Simon around the shoulders and held his metallic, clawed arm against Simon’s throat, the sharp fingers drawing pinpoints of blood. Hector scrambled past and attempted to pull in what remained of Simon’s magic, but the meager amount was not even enough to conjure up a spark. Before he could try anything more, Nestor was there, holding out his stony arm in an attempt to catch Hector by the front of his shirt. Seeing his last chance for survival, Hector made a mad dash for the balcony.
Annette and Valentine continued to struggle on the floor, spitting insults, pulling hair and scratching at each other’s faces. Simon cheered for Annette as he struggled under Cyrus’s metallic grip. Nestor tossed the chain aside and trailed after Hector.
“Stop!” the Angel commanded in a voice that held the same force as Annette’s when she evoked her power of persuasion.
Hector’s limbs slowed as the Angelic power washed over him, but as he struggled against it feeling came rushing back in an instant. He’s tired, Hector realized. He doesn’t have enough strength.
He sprinted past the purple curtains, hoping that Argent or Penny were still in the crowd somewhere. His mind focused on getting to Penny; if he could reach her, he would be able to perform magic once more and maybe save all of their lives.
Hector burst onto the balcony and a collective gasp rose from the crowd. He did not stop running until he was past the body of the king, swiveling around just in time to see Nestor throw back the purple curtains and step out onto the balcony behind Hector, his lips thin and his face as white as snow.
Screams of both confusion and joy erupted from the goblins in the crowd at the sight of their deity. Hector backed up until he felt the stone railing and leafy vines that clung to it against his back, and gripped it for support as Nestor advanced. The Angel caught Hector by the folds of his shirt and the crowd below burst into a cacophony of mixed sounds, crying out as Hector was lifted into the air.
“How dare you interfere, Nelvirnee scum? I thought I had eradicated the last of your people, but I suppose a few insects will always slip through the cracks,” Nestor hissed as Hector kicked out in midair. Nestor dropped him and with a harsh jerk of his foot flipped Hector onto his back. He laid his foot on the center of Hector’s heaving chest.
The Angel’s hair and wings created a misty, ethereal glow around him in the night. Nestor’s eyes remained fixed on Hector’s hands as a calculating smile curled his lips.
The crowd had gone into a fit. The rangers tried to quell the disaster, but many of the goblins could not be controlled.
From only a few hundred feet away, Penny beheld the scene in stark, helpless horror, clutching herself around the shoulders. When Hector had burst onto the balcony she had not dared to believe her eyes, but now that the shock had worn off and she saw Nestor bearing down on him, something changed within her.
All reason drained from her mind, and a deep sense of instinct took over. Penny shot through the crowd, elbowing and shoving people out of the way, dipping and ducking when she could not bully her way through. Though her body felt heavy and wracked with pain, she would not stop. Emerging from the writhing mass of goblins, she caught sight of the vines that draped down from the balcony and over the street. Not bothering to look for a better solution, Penny scaled the fence below the vines, kicking back at the rangers who snatched at her ankles.
With a shaky spring upward, Penny leapt up and latched on to the low hanging vines. She held on for dear life, her crushed hand howling with pain. As soon as she gripped the plants she felt herself slipping, but it took one look at the spiked fence beneath her to get her climbing up with all her might. The rangers below her waved swords and spears in her direction as she threw one hand over the other in a desperate attempt to reach the top. A few of them tried to climb after her, but she fought them back with a few well-timed kicks. When her shivering hands touched the stone of the balcony, a second wind filled her shaking limbs and she dragged herself up and over the railing in one clumsy motion, tripping head over heels as she landed on the platform. Nestor looked up as Penny scrambled to her feet.
“D-don’t―you―dare!” Penny screamed, pointing an accusatory finger at the Angel.
Eyes glued to Penny, Nestor took his foot off Hector’s chest and stepped toward her. “You…it is you…” he hissed, his eyes wide with shock.
“Th-that’s right!” Penny swallowed, taking a step backward. “It is me! You thought I was dead, didn’t you? Guess you’re not as smart as you think you are,” she taunted, sounding leagues braver than she felt. Though her face displayed a defiant sneer, inwardly she was moments away from fainting due to sheer terror.
“Penelope, no! Get to safety!” Hector yelled as he attempted to get back to his feet, but Nestor turned and swatted him away, his palm connecting with Hector’s nose. His glasses were knocked askew and a stream of blood spurted from his nostrils as Hector fell back.
“Don’t…move….” Nestor ordered with obvious strain, and Hector froze on the ground, his eyes horrified. Hector looked to be fighting against the command, but could not overcome it. Nestor turned back, facing Penny with a deep, seething anger that made her heart thump an irregular beat.
A flash of color distracted both of them, and Penny turned to see Annette streaking out from the back room, her face sporting a nasty bruise and a few scrapes. She threw herself at the railing and took a deep breath, then bellowed at the crowd below, “RUN AWAY, ALL OF YOU!”
It took mere seconds for the hordes below to stop their various movements, turn around, and stampede in the opposite direction.
Valentine burst from the room beyond and ran forward, grabbed a thick handful of Annette’s hair and attempted to throw her to the ground. Annette struggled, kneeing her in the ribs. Valentine stumbled back toward the railing, gasping for air and glaring at Annette, one of her fingernails broken as blood dripped from the side of her face.
“You loathsome brat! You think you’ve won just by sending them away? You think it’s over? You think that I’m just going to―wah―aggh!” Valentine’s eyes grew wide as her back hit the railing too fast and she toppled over.
Annette rushed forward and caught Valentine by her ankles. “Valentine! Hold on, I’ve got you!” Annette yelled, straining to hold her.
“Lord Nestor―please―help me!” Valentine begged as her ankles slipped from Annette’s weak grip. Annette groaned as her strength gave out and Valentine fell from her grasp.
Nestor turned, listening to Valentine’s piercing scream cutting through the night until it was silenced by a telltale crunch. Annette turned white and froze, unable to look over the railing.
No longer interested in Valentine’s demise, Nestor turned back to Penny and advanced like a serpent preparing to strike. She rushed into the
palace, Nestor following and gaining on her. As she plunged into the darkness of the room beyond, she was shocked to come face to face with Simon who, though restrained by Cyrus, was attempting to get his wand from out of his pocket. He looked up in surprise as Penny shot by, their eyes connecting for a split second. He yelled her name as she continued on through a door, but she did not stop.
Penny glanced back as she bolted through another door to see if Nestor was still behind her, failing to notice the staircase in the middle of the room. Her stomach did a flip as she went careening forward through the air and rolled down the flight of stairs, the granite rattling her bones until she came to a violent crash at the bottom. She gritted her teeth through the unrelenting pulses of pain and attempted to stand just as the noise of wind on feathers whooshed above her head. With a flutter Nestor landed before her. Penny blinked her watering eyes to behold the irate Angel.
“It truly is you. Penelope Fairfax…I thought I might have been mistaken, that day you stumbled into my chamber. I was under the impression you were dead. But it appears you have somehow outsmarted me, and for that I applaud you―and I must admit, meeting you again after all these years is a touch exhilarating,” Nestor said, sounding almost cheerful.
Penny discovered she could not contend with the pain of trying to move. Nestor smiled and to her great terror took a seat on the step beside her. His huge wings folded behind his back as he stared at Penny.
“I’m sure you’ve wondered―it was indeed me on that night so many years ago. I had found you after searching for so long and I would’ve succeeded in abducting you, as I had originally planned, if Adrielle hadn’t been so keen on meddling in my affairs. It took years and years to figure out how to remove that seal she put on you―it was a genius bit of magic on her part, really…hiding you away so I could never find you.” He reached out and cupped her face. She shuddered at the contact and gasped, her entire body aching with the strain of breathing.
“Why? Why are you doing this to me? To everyone? I thought you were supposed to be a…a guardian of life. Why would you―?” Penny breathed, but stopped when she saw the look of utter shock on Nestor’s face. His lips parted as he looked at her.
“You mean to say that…you don’t know? Adrielle told you nothing?” Nestor’s moon-like eyes shone into her and he laughed, an eerie, hollow sound. “You’ve no idea what this is about? Oh, poor creature―you have been playing with things far beyond your comprehension. I must confess, I did not expect this at all. This changes things quite a bit,” he said, more to himself
Penny stared at him, bewildered.
“You must know that I never meant you harm personally, no. It was all because of my stubborn siblings…come now, I will heal your wounds.” Nestor leaned forward and put his fingers to Penny’s forehead. With a shudder and what seemed like a huge gust of wind, Penny felt the sharp pains leave her body. The bruises and cuts from her scrap with Phobos disappeared, along with the soreness from her fall. Though the pain had left, the heaviness and dizziness remained, weighing down on her more than ever. Penny stood and examined her body in disbelief, then noticed the plants on either side of the stairs. Moments ago they had been green and healthy, but now they were a crusty brown pile of wilted leaves.
Nestor put a hand on her shoulder. “Come and stop this foolishness now. I promise I will tell you everything as soon as I can. I’m sure you’ve been more than curious,” Nestor said, his face unfeeling. Penny was reminded of the wrought iron mask from her dream.
“You’ll tell me…everything? Why?”
“Because you’ve done more for me tonight than any one of my followers has in months. You’ve brought me my brother’s hands and tongue. Just what I expected of a―”
“What are you getting at?” Penny stepped back, breaking away from Nestor’s hand. “I’d die before I let you hurt Annette or Hector,” she snarled, balling her hands into fists.
Nestor frowned. “Are you certain about that? I’ll get to them anyway. Is standing between myself and the inevitable worth never learning the truth about who you are?” Nestor coaxed.
Penny faced him with unblinking tenacity. “Absolutely,” she spat.
Disappointment shadowed Nestor’s face and he sighed. “What foolish ends noble lives often meet,” he said, shaking his head. With inhuman speed Nestor reached out and touched a finger to her chest, sending Penny shooting across the room into the wall. Nestor closed his eyes as if concentrating and appeared in front of Penny faster than her eyes could track. Once again he reached out with a single finger extended, and Penny only had a moment to jerk her head out of the way. As his fingertip connected with the wall that had been behind her only seconds before, the surface of it exploded into hundreds of tiny bits, showering the room with rubble. Penny jumped back again, almost falling victim to another explosive assault from Nestor’s finger. He appeared to be growing tired as he lurched forward to stop her, his face awash with apparent frustration. Penny stumbled as he rushed her again, backing her into the corner.
“Accept your fate, you can’t escape. Be still and your death will be easy,” Nestor commanded, his fingers trembling as they grasped for her.
Death is easy…
Penny felt the thought stirring in the depths of her mind. She looked at Nestor with wide eyes as she pressed herself into the crook of the corner. He was right, there was no escape―but perhaps fleeing was not the answer. Penny clenched her jaw, hoping that her insane idea had the slightest chance of stalling the Angel long enough for her to get to Hector. Nestor’s hand shot toward Penny’s forehead and she ducked just in time for the wall to be obliterated again, creating a crater the size of a small pond. Penny reached forward and wrapped her hands around Nestor’s stony forearm, catching a glimpse of his surprise before the white flash came.
Penny focused on thoughts of the masked entity that haunted her dreams in hopes that it would be enough to stun Nestor, yet as she summoned up memories of the nightmares that had plagued her for months, something very different emerged from the flash of white light.
She was stuck in the realm that separated reality from the dreams she tried to summon. She stood enveloped by the powerful, humming whiteness, watching as a face began to materialize before her. As the light streaming all around grew less intense, Penny recognized the mask from her dreams floating freely before her, without a cloak or body of any kind. Penny tried to breathe as she stared at its hollow eyes, the sarcophagus mask smiling back with iron lips. Frozen with horror, it took her a moment to notice what was happening to her body.
When she looked down at herself, she saw with shock that three pulsing black veins were growing out of her chest, reaching toward the mask. They oozed with a light film of slime and a dark substance surged within them at rhythmic intervals. Penny could not even manage to scream as she watched them snake forward, wrapping around the mask like the roots of a tree burrowing into soil.
She felt her heartbeat getting more frenzied as even more of the root-like veins began to stem from her body. They sprouted from her neck and legs, all quivering and reaching out toward the mask. Her heart began to rage in her chest like a snare drum, intensifying until all she could hear and feel was the frantic surge of blood. As her heartbeat grew to a panicked hum, the cloak of the masked entity began to flow down from the mask, like ink spreading through water. With an abrupt silence, Penny’s heart stopped beating.
Everything went deathly silent and still. Then with something that felt like a resonating snap in her chest, Penny’s heart started up again, this time beating at a normal rate. With a final shock, the veins that had grown out from her body broke off from her one at a time, each one feeling like a small sapling being uprooted as it was drawn into the masked entity. From within her, where the deep weariness and terror had been, there now burned a light as bright as that of the sun. A sinister murmuring rose from the masked entity, as if dry, cracked lips were chanting and singing behind the mask.
“You are mine, and I am
yours,” the soundless voice that she had come to know so intimately puffed into her ear. “I have sought you before, and I will seek you now, and forevermore until we burn together again.”
The vision was ripped from Penny’s eyes and the sight of the goblin palace flowed back. Penny could now see that where her hands had touched Nestor, two diseased-looking black marks appeared to have been burned into his paper-white flesh.
The Angel stumbled backward and wrenched his arm out of Penny’s feeble grasp, gasping in horror at the hand-shaped singe marks on his arm.
“What have you done to me, you horrible, wretched creature?! What is―how can you control the flow of Anti-Magic?” Nestor demanded, his eyes widening as the deep, dark marks started to flow up his arm, blemishing his flesh. He tore off the front of his cloak, panicked at the sight of the sooty discoloration snaking its way through the veins in his neck, staining his face and eyes with poisonous black spots. The Angel fell to his knees and gripped his head.
“NO! THIS CANNOT BE! Silence! Silence, I will not hear your lies―begone, you―NO!” Nestor howled, and his frenzied stare fixed in terror on an empty spot as if it were haunted by a specter that only he could see. The whites of his eyes were splotched with black lines that pulsed and bulged. Nestor roared, the sound one of utter belligerence and defeat. He spread his trembling wings to their full span and rocketed into the air without warning, tearing through the stone ceiling as if it were mere tissue paper and creating a shower of debris and rubble as he shot into the sky. Penny scrambled forward and stared through the gaping hole.
All she could see were the stars blinking back at her. She kept gazing upward through the puncture wound in the castle ceiling for several long minutes before realizing that all the heaviness and fatigue that had weighed down on her bones just minutes before had vanished. It had gone, and it had taken the Angel of Elydria with it.
The Angel of Elydria (The Dawn Mirror Chronicles Book 1) Page 39