I managed several steps.
Bauku pointed the orb of his staff at me.
I froze in place, understanding the warning.
He crossed to me, but laid no hand upon my person. He leaned toward me as if drawn by some magnetic force, and secured my gaze with those bottomless, black eyes of his. His sonorous voice wrapped me like a blanket. “You are in no danger. As a prisoner of war, you had every right to kill your captor. And as the next king, I can guarantee that no vengeance will be taken.” He held out his hand. “Trust me.”
“How can you be sure that you will be the next king? Are there no heirs, no other candidates?”
“Our kings are chosen by the Black Flame. It favored me strongly at the last time of choosing. Aracus won his position by the smallest of margins. Enough games! Come with me, and I will show you why you have nothing to fear.”
His hand remained between us, outstretched, waiting to be graced by my own. I either needed to fight him, or put myself at his mercy. I searched his face, weighing his sincerity. If he wanted to strike me down, he was close enough and armed with magic. What gave me greatest pause was that my mission, my son’s fate, rode on this as well. It was hard to take such a chance.
“Set aside your mystic tools and I will go with you.”
“My, you are so distrustful!” He released a deep breath as a slow sigh. “I need the diamond for what I want to show you, but here, take this as a sign of my trust.” He extended his staff, putting his power in my hands.
The gesture impressed me. “All right, after you.”
He nodded. “This way, then.” He made no effort to see if I followed, but strode toward the door through which Aracus had first come.
I snatched up the silver mask and fallen knife, and ran after Bauku. The staff was heavy and hit my leg, often grazing the floor. Feeling a bit like a raven gathering shiny trinkets, I would have been amused—were this business not so grim. Some dark humor must have shown in my face, for laughter danced in Bauku’s eyes as he turned my way, waiting on the threshold for me to catch up.
“Do not say a word,” I warned. “I will not be amused at my own expense—not here and now.”
I supposed he could not refrain.
“You know, I find spirited mistrustfulness in a woman quite appealing.”
“I have been fighting for the soul of my son,” I said. “If you have real feelings for me, do not stand in the way of what I must do.”
His face sobered. “That is not my intention. In fact, I believe that I can help you.”
“Because you, too, fancy that you would like to own me?”
His eyes flashed with a fierce intensity I had not expected.
“No, I only seek whatever gratitude I can earn. I do this so that your heart might give itself to me willingly.”
He went into a narrow hallway.
I followed, throwing another question at him. “So, you are a romantic?”
His voice came back, a ragged whisper, “Among other things.”
The hall led to a winding staircase that kept our world closed in. At least confined spaces had no power to afflict my nerve—that would have been one burden too many. I continued to count my blessings as we wound down into the bowels of the fortress, our way illuminated by fingers of lavender crystal set into the wall. Fading into view, overhead webs caught the light. The former strands had become dust, long abandoned by any spider.
Thankfully, the caking dust was only disturbed underfoot by boot prints, not the tracks of rats which I have always abhorred. Of course, dark things might lurk below the Dar’kyn city that might make rats welcome indeed. I could easily imagine that such was the case, where my footsteps echoed, thrown back at me transformed by my fear.
I shook away such thoughts. It was dangerous to lose focus; Bauku could attempt deceit at any time. I had to watch him—carefully.
I didn’t know what he thought I needed to see beneath the fortress, but down was not a good direction for me. I was already farther from the surface than I wanted. I supposed he would tell me when it suited him.
His words broke our mutual silence. “Almost there.”
I jumped a little and the staff’s end rapped sharply against a stair. The chuthunk echoed around me like the single beat of a monstrously slow heart.
“Careful with that,” Bauku said. “You do not want it to explode.”
A thrill of fear went down my spine and pooled in my stomach. “Surely, you jest?”
“Fortunately, yes, though to die at your hands would be the greatest pleasure.”
He was flirting with me, willing to win me over in stages. Such efforts were doomed. Even if he were not a likely threat, my heart’s interest lay elsewhere. Of course, that potential union was nearly as hopeless; Azrael was a reaver, an angel of death, more cold shadow than anything else. I wondered if there was something wrong with me—I kept giving myself to impossible causes as if there were no others.
Bauku left the stairs for a rough-hewn hall. I followed a few steps behind. The end of the passage belled unto a vast, cavernous space. We trod a serpentine path around spikes of plain gray rock that matched others hanging from the ceiling. Occasional baskets holding red crystals lit our way with a bloody haze. The crystals concerned me as they could well give birth to the same kind of squiggles that had assailed me earlier.
Still, if Bauku were going to summon aid, he would have done so already. So far, I was grateful for his benevolence though I dared not trust its duration.
We entered a sizable clearing dominated by a massive vein of obsidian that thrust out of the ground. Either some trick of water no longer flowing had carved it, or there were Dar’kyn artists capable of exquisite workmanship. The black glass strongly resembled an ancient oak such as those that dominated the world above. If such a giant had been brought down here and transmuted by dark arts, this glossy beauty would have been the result. As remarkable as the obsidian branches were, a greater spectacle was the foliage—in place of leaves it had flickering, black flames that teased the eye and mind alike. The strange fire leaped and danced—an intimate invitation I did not fully understand.
As I had earlier sensed the presence of Ellyssia in her lost tomb, I now felt a fearsome awareness that iced the air I drew into my lungs, knotting my stomach with dread, tightening the muscles in my back as though I feared the flight of some arrow. Alien to everything natural, I knew that the glass tree was alive, and aware of me.
“Why are we here?” My voice came out low and rough, verging on a growl. Despite every instinct, I advanced a few more steps, coming up to Bauku who was less threatening than this arcane manifestation.
“This is called the Tree of Darkness,” he said. “Its roots tap another reality—a universe of darkness and hunger. The first Dar’kyn found this place and forged a covenant here. Since then, the tree’s dark fire has fueled our magic, and when we ‘die’, the tree claims our spirits—a fair exchange. What is left of Aracus is in there now.”
Bauku turned and faced me. His hands lightly settled on my shoulders. “At first, the dark fire was weak, but as we increased our numbers and were slain, warring against our cousins, the Tree of Darkness waxed stronger, becoming a rival to the green soul of Avalon’s forests.”
This crystal titan was the true master of the Dar’kyn; I understood that, and how it all came to be, but my main question had not been answered. “Suppose you tell me how any of that benefits me.”
“You will be safe among us, once the tree accepts you.”
“You want me to become a human version of a Dar’kyn?”
“You want power to snatch your happiness back from Death’s cold and greedy hands. This will give you such power, enough to save your son. Is he not worth any sacrifice you can make?”
Though full of trepidation, I was sorely tempted. I did need power. I could not depend on Death’s good graces to accommodate me. I needed to be able to compel what I wanted from the grandfather I had never met. And certainly, I love
d my son more than enough to damage myself for his sake.
But such a decision would have drastic and eternal consequences. My very soul would be tied to the Tree of Darkness. At death, Avalon would claim me, and heaven would be lost. I thought of the prophesied day, when Death and hell must give up their dead for God’s judgment. The worthy would pass on to a new heaven and earth. If I made this choice, I might be forfeiting eternity in order to have my son for a short span of years. Bauku offered temporary solace. I needed a better solution.
“No, this is not the path to victory.”
Bauku set the black diamond circlet on his head. “A shame, I had hoped you would give yourself willingly, but that is not strictly required.”
Apprehension chilled me. I whipped my knife up and thrust for his heart, but he dodged back, forcing me to pursue. As I was about to close with him once more, strands of darkness thrust with blinding speed out of the obsidian trunk. The ribbons wound around my body. I lost hold of all that I carried as my arms were pinned to my sides. I would have fallen, but the shadow bands plucked me off my feet.
For me to waste strength in useless resistance would not help. I needed to get Bauku to release me. “You say you want to be my friend … and more,” I said. “This is not the way. You will only make me hate you. Please … release me.”
“Once you know the ecstasy of the black flame, you will thank me for this.”
“If I thank you for this, it will not be me speaking, just some flat shadow you have brought to life in my place. Let me go—now!”
“A flat shadow is better than nothing at all.”
The bands contracted, and hauled me swiftly to the tree. I had no way to brace for impact. I closed my eyes at the last moment, but felt only a numbing frost engulf me. I opened my eyes. Black lay everywhere, a crushing weight, cloying my senses. I was inside the tree, floating in a nearly liquid darkness, yet able to breath.
“Let me out!” I screamed. My words lost strength once they left me, for the tree consumed their vitality.
No answer came from Bauku, but something stirred, and slithered closer. I sensed an unseen entity examining me. I felt its curiosity and hunger like ants crawling over my skin. The tree’s mind brushed my own. I heard a voice in my head. You have a quick-burning spirit. You are not of Avalon. You are human?
“Yes,” I said. “This is a mistake. You don’t want such as me! Let me go.”
Go? Why do you want to go when I can give you so much?
An unseen wave caressed the side of my face. My horror deepened, but there was anticipation as well as something deep inside stirred in response.
You have a great darkness inside that seeks completion, a hunger as strong as my own.
“No,” I begged, “do not do this.”
I will make it quick. You will not suffer … long.
I became a woman deep in the throes of passion, stricken with pleasure sharp enough to become unendurable pain. The crushing darkness seeped into my shuddering body, becoming a gyre of shadow that inscribed runes across my soul. I gasped as phantom currents sifted greedily through my being, as if I, too, were a ghost.
Despite my body’s sharp arousal, I felt outrage at the violation I could not stop. This was not the darkness I wanted to give myself to. Only Azrael’s ice could tease from me a true and boundless ardor. This forced response only mocked my true need. “Azrael, my love…!” I called him then, wanting only his shadows to know my flesh. I reached out to him with my heart, “Come now, or I am lost.”
My desperate longing trailed away into bitter disappointment…
Then I found myself calling to him with my will and desire, pouring them into my ring as if I were summoning the bridge-between-worlds. My ring misted with a soft white glow. Long moments passed, and the light of the ring began to fail.
Then an anchor arrived for my hopes and dreams, a warm and shining thought: Be strong, Celeste! I’m coming. I am…
“Here!” His voice materialized next to me. I felt his hands tearing at the black ribbons that bound me. His eyes were white stars of rage, turning the space between us into an island of light.
The obsidian tree objected. No, she is mine. Be gone, intruder!
Azrael cried out, hammered away by dark winds. His voice receded and the darkness around me thickened again. The tree returned its attention to me, and I cursed it soundly with words a lady was not supposed to know. A white hot anger exploded in my mind—how dare this monstrosity stop me from saving Phillippe!
Ah! Here it is. That buried knot of darkness I have sensed in you. I shall have it!
All of the tendrils holding me lost substance, sliding into my flesh, diving toward the knot of darkness I had only confronted in nightmares. That buried pocket bloomed like a black rose, becoming a gateway. Darkness met darkness. The black flame was swallowed by a more implacable hunger.
I remembered my dream of a world … a universe … swallowed whole, and struggled to close that open door, to seal away an endless torrent by sheer force of will.
The fluid darkness surrounding my body drained into me as well, leaving me trapped inside an immense trunk of clear glass.
Nightmarishly distorted, I saw Bauku staring in at me from outside, satisfaction etched on his face.
My heart beat rapidly. I could no longer breathe. Fear and panic burned out my thoughts, and the power I resisted inside myself answered my need, if not my will. The glass cracked all around me while lightless wings formed a protective cage. Then, a wall of force exploded from my flesh, as if I had become a dark sun, expending its life in a single shattering moment.
The crystal tree fragmented. Shards raced away, a lethal hail in the air. Violently twisted, lifted from his feet, Bauku was torn to crimson shreds and scattered haphazardly across the cavern while I slumped to the ground.
Fortunately, the black hunger I had released receded, sated from feeding. I shuddered as the black rose in my soul furled into a bud once more. I prayed it would stay that way, and counted myself fortunate—if not for the richness of the meal provided by the obsidian tree, I would have been consumed. Part of me wanted that. The ecstasy just past was going to haunt me a long time. More of it could well prove enthralling.
I lifted my head and stared across crystal rubble.
“Azrael!”
Had I destroyed him?
“Where are you?”
Only echoes answered. My voice became a whisper. “You know I need you.”
He descended out of the shadows near the cavern roof, and settled lightly beside me. He knelt and drew me into his arms, into the domain of his cloak.
My head lay against his cold chest. I listened for a heartbeat that would never come.
His arms crushed me against him and I knew that he was as much a captive to passion as I was. As we embraced, time stopped in its tracks.
Finally, I lifted my face to his. Our lips met, hesitantly at first, softly inquiring. Then the kiss deepened, growing harder, more intense. Eventually, he loosened his hold on me and swept back his hood. I saw a porcelain face framed by curls of beaten gold. His eyes remained pools of white, reflecting his heart’s fire.
“I take it you have decided to forgive me,” he said.
“When I knew I loved you, I knew I had to forgive you.”
His eyes searched my own. The hard planes of his face relaxed. “I am glad.” He noticed the fine Elven clothes I wore. “Where did you get—”
“That is not important. We need to get out of here.”
“We will.” Beyond fear’s touch, his gaze pried at the wreckage. “How did you do this?”
“Does it matter?” I asked.
He studied me as if I were some strange, new creature made up of improbabilities. “I suppose not. Where are you going from here?”
“To Phillippe. He is with Prince Amberyn, my recent companion. The only way I know to find them is to retrace my steps from here. It will mean going through the palace and back through the Dar’kyn village.”
“Then that is what we will do.”
“You know the way?” I asked.
“I am an angel. I know all that is needed.”
“Wait! My silver mask is somewhere under the broken glass.”
“I will get it. I already have the rest of your gear.” He left me and tore into the rubble. Soon, he lifted my mask into view before absorbing it in his shadows.
He returned to me.
I touched his arm. “I am amazed that you came to save me, though delighted as well. I thought reavers could not come to Avalon.”
“The tree’s black fire made a hole in Avalon’s defenses, a hole I used, but that hole has closed. I will now need an open portal to leave. Though they know it not, the elves have much to thank you for. Death himself could have entered through the Dar’kyn talisman, had he only known.”
Azrael swept me off my feet, and held me effortlessly.
My arms encircled his neck.
He glided smoothly through the crystal debris, like a dream that could not be troubled. I could not hear his steps, and we disturbed nothing in passing. I did not question this in light of the greater mystery that was my own nature. The opening of the black rose forced me to realize that part of me was not human, and never had been.
I trembled at that thought, sickening inside.
“What is wrong,” Azrael asked, as we came abreast of one of Bauku’s severed arms poking up from under a slab of glass.
“I am not used to seeing such ghastly wounds.” That was true enough, but also, I feared Azrael’s feelings might change for me if he knew of the terrible darkness possessing some small, lost corner of my soul. I wanted to understand that darkness before asking him to do the same. And what if I could not? I dashed the question away, unready to face the possibility, too weary to struggle with inner demons.
It was enough to be held, to be loved, and to let someone else carry the weight of life’s struggle for the moment, before my son’s need dragged me on. Comforted, I lost track of all else until a change in his stride told me we were climbing the stairs. They led us to the reception room where horrified servants scampered, wringing hands, tugging at their clothes—a dishevelment that went beyond the popular fashion of my world where many a lady wanted to give the impression she had just come from some passionate rendezvous.
The Farthest Gate (The White Rose Book 1) Page 16