Dark World (Book I in the Dark World Trilogy)

by Q. Lee, Danielle

  “Actually, there might be,” she expressed. “Let’s go see Shaman Goretus.”

  Fate nodded enthusiastically. There had to be some other way to satiate her need for souls. There just had to be. She simply couldn’t endure the notion of destroying a life every few days.

  The princess glided towards the door. “It’s going to be tricky getting you out of here, just stay quiet and let me do the talking, okay?”

  Willing to do anything to spare the baby phoenix, Fate set the cage beside her bed and trailed behind Ever. As they reached the door, however, Ick awoke from his catnap and upon seeing the girls abandoning him, let out an ear-piercing squawk.

  “Shhh!” Both Ever and Fate turned abruptly, fingers pressed against their lips.

  Ick’s pushed-in face puckered disdainfully. Scanning the room with narrowed eyes, his sight landed on the gilded cage beside the bed. Fangs protruding and a sly smile sliding across his mouth, he promptly marched to the cage and began poking at the phoenix through the bars with his knife-like claws. The little bird panicked, peeping and molting fiery feathers which landed on the floor of his cage like a miniature bonfire, then promptly exploded into ash.

  “Ick!” Fate hissed. “Stop it! I’ll be right back.”

  The little gargoyle flopped onto the bed, crossing his furry, white arms over his chest.

  “Be good,” Fate mouthed, then followed the princess out the door.

  Nemesis

  “So, this…shade,” Syphon spat the word with disdain. “She’s agreed to help us?”

  Kane sighed, his large chest expanding and retracting slowly. All eyes were on him, awaiting his answer.

  Finally, he responded, “Not yet,”

  Syphon scoffed loudly. “Do you see?” he began, standing and waving an accusatory hand in Kane’s direction. “Do you see? This is exactly what I’ve been trying to tell you. All plan and no action.”

  Kane narrowed his eyes, panning the room, the Elders suddenly refusing to meet his gaze. A heat swelled in his chest, a fury growing without his permission.

  Have they been talking about me behind my back?

  “He’s not capable of being our leader,” Syphon continued, moving about the room. “He’s but a boy.”

  Kane’s fists clenched so hard he was certain he drew blood from his palms. His teeth ground together so tight, it made his head hurt. Syphon gave Kane a sideways glance, his lips curling into a smirk, but he didn’t ceasefire.

  “Legion needs a real leader. A leader who will take charge and lead an army to defeat Malus!” he shouted, pounding his fist against the stone table, startling several of the ancients.

  Kane looked to Elder Ozen, his weary expression read volumes.

  Does Ozen agree? Kane’s heart fell. Maybe they’re right. Maybe I should hand the crown over to Syphon.

  “Where is the Shaman’s quarters?” Fate inquired as the two girls snuck down the hall. Thankfully the guards watching Fate’s room were both so smitten with Ever, she’d convinced them she’d be safe and that she and Fate would return in a few minutes. Frankly, she could’ve told them to eat live slugs and they would have gladly done it just to make her pay them notice.

  The hallway went on forever. Every so often there would be an intersection offering them a choice of either left or right, but Ever continued down the same hall.

  This place is huge! Fate thought, her eyes scanning every twist and turn of the endless labyrinth.

  As she followed the princess faithfully down the corridor, Fate examined the artwork hung on the walls. Most depicted war scenes or hunting expeditions where savages slaughtered buffalo or deer. Again, it was always humans in the pictures, never demons.

  Atlantis, Fate surmised. This must have been the artwork in Atlantis.

  But why had they never changed it? Didn’t the demons despise the humans? They were the precursor to shades, were they not?

  “This way,” Ever called back.

  They approached a door on the right, except for a dehydrated head of what appeared to be a goat dangling from the doorknob, it was identical to the dozens of doors they’d just past.

  Fate swallowed. She desperately wanted a cure for her fiendish disease, but something about this visit had her stomach churning with dissention. It’s not that she didn’t trust Ever, quite the contrary, but without Kane’s protective presence nearby, she wasn’t sure how she’d be received.

  “Are you sure about this? What if…the Shaman doesn’t want to see me? Shades don’t seem be a local favorite.” Fate grimaced and endeavored to still the apprehension within her voice.

  “Don’t worry,” Ever linked her arm with Fate’s, a warm smile gracing her pale lips. “I’m right here with you.”

  Fate grinned beneath her mask, an odd sensation rising within. She’d found something she didn’t even realize she’d lost. Something she’d desperately needed—a friend.

  Kane took a deep breath. How was he going to handle this? He didn’t want to be leader any more than they wanted him to be. But he had an obligation. A duty to honor his father’s wishes. He’d left Kane in charge.

  Even though he was just a child when his father died, it was his wish that Kane succeed him upon his death. He had a responsibility, no matter how much he didn’t like it—or want it.

  “I believe we should have a vote,” Syphon offered, his boisterous voice owning the room. Lit only by the incessant flickering of candlelight, shadows played within every corner of the room, leaving Kane to feel as though there were more eyes upon him than just the Elders’.

  “And, what would we be voting on, Syphon?” Elder Ozen inquired, a twinge of skepticism lingering in his voice.

  “Why…who should lead the demons, of course,” Syphon stated, a sly smirk grazing his lips.

  “We have a leader, Syphon, I see no need for a vote,” Elder Ozen countered.

  Many nodded, but to Kane’s dismay, several wore expressions of hesitancy.

  “Please, counsel, I ask you to have faith in me,” Kane began. “I may not be…my father, but I still love my people and desire the same as you...our freedom and our right to rule Dark World once again. Please, just give me that chance, I need your trust in me, especially now.” Upon lowering his eyes, he hoped they would find it in their hearts to see through Syphon’s plot to disgrace him.

  Most of the counsel members raised their faces to him, their eyes lit with hope. For a moment, Kane seemed to hold newfound respect from them—then Syphon’s poisonous tongue lashed from across the room.

  “That is where you are right…you are nothing like your father. If there’s one thing I’m certain of, he’d be ashamed to call you son.”

  The room was bathed in aromas unfamiliar to Fate’s sense of smell. Long, black swags draped the walls, perilously close to the hundreds of candles flickering within the room. Reminiscent of the goat’s head hanging from the knob outside the door, numerous decapitated animal heads, shriveled and shrunken like large raisins, decorated the tiny space.

  A shuffling sound to the right startled Fate and she spun towards it. Stifling a gasp, Fate examined an old demon standing just a few feet from her. A dark-green cloak trailed over his hooves, his hands met at his waist, clutching a lengthy, gnarled wooden cane. Long strands of grey hair draped his shoulders whilst a snowy beard cascaded over his chest. Wrinkles of wisdom graced every area of his face, but particularly the corners of his mouth. Warmth radiated from him. A calm and glorious aura of what Fate could only describe as—peace.

  At first glance, she surmised his eyes were closed as there was no telltale glow of infrared stare. On closer inspection, however, she realized he was blind, the radiant burn behind his eyes extinguished. The empty spaces left dark like fallen stars.

  “Ah, I wondered when I’d get to meet you, shade,” the old demon spoke with lightheartedness coloring his voice. “And hello to you too, princess,” he added, nodding in her direction.

  “Good day, Shaman Goretus,” Ever answered warmly, cros
sing the room and embracing him. “How have you been?”

  “Very well,” he chuckled.

  “This is Fate.” Ever swept an arm in the shade’s direction, her extensive crimson sleeves trailing loyally.

  Fate stood in the center of room, sensing the Shaman’s sightless eyes examining her. His face, though warm, studied her with an intensity that left her feeling like a specimen.

  Wizened hands clutching his gnarly cane, he proceeded to shamble across the room. Closer and closer. The light beating of the cane tapped in rhythm with his shuffle as he moved nearer.

  Ever stayed by the door, her eyes flickered with a blend of curiosity and fascination. Fate wondered what the princess was thinking, then sure she knew, for she was likely thinking the same thing.

  Was this demon witchdoctor going to be able to find another way for her to survive? To prevent her from sucking the essence out of innocent bodies? Was there another way? Or was she just kidding herself? Maybe, she was nothing more than a killer. A monster with just enough control to keep the hunger at bay—temporarily.

  Helpless. Hopeless. His efforts to introduce his plan, failed. If only the council had more faith in him. If only he had more faith in himself.

  If only Syphon had kept his mouth shut, Kane fumed as he made his way back to his room. Defeated and worn, he passed through the halls of the demon city, anxious to rest his weary head.

  Did his father really think he could do this? He’d never been the type to take charge. To lead. Though he wasn’t a follower either, Kane honestly never knew where he fit in. A loner.

  His childhood had been confusing at best. With his father tending to the needs of an entire underground nation and his mother scheming to overtake it, he was left to fend for himself.

  It wasn’t until he met Seren that his life changed. Took on meaning.

  The demon world was on its knees. Tumultuous and war-torn, Kane’s mother having had ushered in her new world order. A world owned and controlled by her—and shades. Dark World had once been home to many communities of demons. Cities. Villages. But once her poisonous reign began, she obliterated all but two separate populations of demons. Her horde of shades crawled across Dark World like venomous spiders. Silent. Deadly. Striking down those in charge who swore allegiance to the dead King Lucifer, her disciples crippled the nations, leaving the citizens but two options, serve her—or die.

  Wings immobilized, powers diminished to worthlessness, the demons were humbled before a tyrannical Queen. His own mother.

  She even shackled her son. Even sent him into the mines to excavate bloodstone. Whipped and beaten like a common slave, Kane endured years of imprisonment at the bidding of his own flesh and blood. The one who gave him life was now the one who threatened to take it away.

  The years in the mines were agonizing. Not only because of the labor, but because of the horrors the shades inflicted upon their prisoners.

  As he stood before his room, his hands pressed against the door, steadying himself, Kane tried to force the dark memories far away. But to disregard them, to erase them, would be like forgetting Seren.

  She had been his only light down there in the darkness of the mines. She’d saved him in more ways than one.

  “Fate,” Shaman Goretus spoke, his voice ancient and gravelly. “What an interesting name.”

  “My father named her,” Ever offered proudly.

  “Interesting,” he said, his gentle voice wrapping around Fate like an embrace. Though mysterious, she found him calming. His aura serene.

  Now only inches away, he raised his right hand, hovering it over her. His palm open, he swept the open air surrounding her. Sensing her. He moved in a slow circle around Fate, never touching her, but felt the space as though absorbing her essence through his palm.

  Fate stood still, her breath tight in her lungs. She watched Ever’s fascinated gaze locked on the old demon. The ivory princess, noticing Fate’s stare smiled softly. Reassuringly.

  Finally, the Shaman stopped. He placed his hands back onto his cane and simply stood before her.

  Her heart thrummed against her chest like a hundred hummingbirds trying to break free. Did he find what he was looking for? Was there another way for her to live? Did she no longer have to kill?

  It was Ever who finally broke the silence. “Well, is there anything else she can…eat?”

  The Shaman raised his hand to his beard and stroked it thoughtfully. His brow furled, he pondered. For just a moment, Fate wanted to shake the answer from him. Impatience nagging.

  Slowly, he nodded. “Yes,” he replied, his voice hesitant. “It is as I suspected.”

  “What is it?” Ever inquired, her voice bordering on impatience.

  “Bloodstone,” he stated, his voice taut. Strained.

  Ever’s dove-like skin paled as she whispered, “Bloodstone.”

  Bloodstone

  It was the scarlet flecks that glinted from within obsidian. They used to glisten like smatterings of blood clinging to the dark walls of the mines. Crimson jewels embedded in black glass.

  Hundreds of years ago, the obsidian mines were plentiful. Deep and overflowing, the veins of bloodstone throbbed.

  Centuries of mass consumption, greed, and overuse, however, finally forced the demons to face the consequences. Just when the demons needed the stone most, when the Crystal Pyramid fell dark, the bloodstone became scarce. A precious rarity.

  The mines in which they’d come to rely, in the center of Dark World, dried up like a well. The wealth of the demons, their inheritance, was dwindling.

  What little they had, they salvaged and distributed in sparse rations, for they soon discovered—they could not live without it. Devoid the glow of the Crystal Pyramid, they were not only stripped of their powers, but their immortality as well. No immortality meant death. Any demon over two hundred years withered and died within months without the constant sustenance of bloodstone.

  “Bloodstone.” The word spilled from the ivory lips of the princess. Her pallor waning from that of an orchid petal to one of ashen bone. “How much will she need?” she posed to the elderly demon rooted before Fate.

  His ancient lungs expanded and released a wheezy sigh. “Too much, I’m afraid.” He shook his head, mouth downturned. “More than we can spare.”

  Whatever hope that had gathered in Fate’s heart dissipated into tiny fragments of despair. What was she going to do? Bow to the beast she was destined to become?

  “Is there nothing else I can do? Nothing else that will work?” Fate asked of the old demon, her hands wringing in angst. If she couldn’t use the bloodstone, she’d have to drain the life of innocent souls. She didn’t know how long she could do that before she lost the good in her. That essence that kept her from drowning in evil.

  His wizened lips pursed a moment and he lingered with a thought. A breath caught in his throat and he reached for Fate. Upon relinquishing her hands to the blind elder, he patted them gently.

  “Give me a few days, I have an idea.”

  The image of Seren haunted his memories. Her long, black hair feathering behind her. Tiger-orange eyes emblazed with an internal fire. She was unique. Rare. Like a precious gem, she could not be replaced.

  His hands pressed against the door, Kane closed his eyes and tried to drink in the memory of her. Tried to hold onto it. The pain in his heart—his soul—was so much more than he thought he could bear. He knew he’d existed before he met her, but he had not truly lived until he loved her. How was he to go on without her? Living as a shell of his former self. Even though his heart beat, he was not alive.

  Until he met Fate.

  Why did her presence create such a stir in him? He was supposed to hate shades. Despise them.

  With so much uncertainty crowding his life, how did she break through the darkness of his world? The despair?

  He spun around, gazing longingly at her door.

  What would happen if I told her how I felt? What would she say?

  A mere few
feet stood between him and his destiny. Was that what she was? A future? Or was she the end of it all?

  Kane brought his large hands up and rubbed his face.

  You’re losing your mind. She’s not even the same race. Not to mention, she’s the enemy.

  It was in that moment that a sickening realization struck him. He’d left two guards posted outside her door—and they were nowhere in sight. Lunging forward, he flung her door open without knocking. His eyes darted about the room, scanning for her presence. The only living creatures in the room were Ick and a caged phoenix.

  She’s not here!

  Dread owned him. He raced from the room and down the hallway, his hooves pounding raucously against the carpeted marble floor. Just one door down from his own room, he grasped the handle and pushed forcefully.

  A gasp caught in his throat. “Ever!”

  “Well, now what?” Fate asked, her arms wrapped around herself. What if the old shaman couldn’t find a cure? Would the demons banish her from their city? She already seemed one step shy of being exiled. It wouldn’t take much for them to decide to rid themselves of her.

  “Would you like to see the garden?” Ever chirped, her eyes shining like blue stars.

  Fate felt the rising of curiosity and excitement. Within her mind’s eye, the image of a vast expanse laden with flowers, trees, and lush greenery tickled her senses. The scent of roses and soft prickling of grass between her toes teased and beckoned her. Memories of the Surface. Memories she thought her lost soul had taken with it.

  “Garden?” Fate marveled. “How the heck does an underground city manage to have a garden?”

  With a twinkle in her eyes, Ever linked arms with Fate and replied, “You’ll see.”

  Panic. Kane searched the hallways of the old palace, his heart fibrillating. Where was everyone? There were thousands of demons living within the city, yet he couldn’t find anyone to ask as to Ever’s whereabouts.