by Bailey Dark
I calm my nerves, feeling a slight ease in my chest, knowing that I have managed to get away another night without being forced into Drogaem's bed. All I want is to climb into Kane's, curl up next to him, and find a moment's peace listening to the sound of his breathing, but it's not yet time to rest. I cannot continue like this.
If I want to beat Drogaem, I'm going to have to take a risk.
Chapter 3
Briar
Willem,
I sit alone in the dark halls of the castle, penning this letter with nothing more than the single flame of a half-burnt candle. This letter may be long, but I fear I will only have one chance to send you a message, so I must make the most of it. As you may already know, Drogaem has risen. After you escaped, the dark spells released, and Kane was thrown from the captivity of his own void.
My attempts to end Drogaem's life before his rotting corpse could reform were futile. I have been spelled, the dark magic seeping through a cut in my hand from the crown Drogaem wears. That magic was cemented into my very soul by Drogaem's words, twisting its way through my very muscles and flesh. My thoughts are still my own, but my body is summoned like a puppet.
As for Kane, he spends his days chained, withstanding barbaric and ungodly attacks of torture. When Drogaem grows bored, he leaves him, and I heal as much as I can before helping him to a bed. He rests as much as possible, knowing the next day will be worse than the last. My powers are not strong enough to heal the extent of the damage inflicted on him, and his wings are nothing more than shredded hunks of flesh and bone. I fear one-day Drogaem will kill him.
The castle is barren, and even the few servants that remain, hide within the shadows of the castle. But there is no place any of us can go that Drogaem cannot find us. Through the dark stillness of the night, I hear the echoes of creatures I cannot see. They are dark and devilish, and I hope I do not have to come across them. For now, Drogaem seems pleased to just march me around, forcing me to watch my beloved's torture, but it's only a matter of time before his attention returns to the death and destruction of both this realm and the mortal one as well.
While I know your feelings for Kane are not bright and rosy, Drogaem is ten times worse than Kane could ever be. If he stays in power, we will all die, and this world, and the next, will see death and destruction the likes of which have never been seen. I implore you, if you care for anyone or anything living or soul-bound, you will gather your band of rebels and help us. Drogaem must be destroyed, no matter the consequence. The fate of all existence depends on it.
I will look when I can for a return letter in the place I leave this one. I hope this letter finds you and the remaining two of the Three, alive and vigilant.
With Peace,
Briar
I read the letter back through quickly, knowing that I can't linger too long where I am. It's as good as it's going to be, so I fold it up and look around the room for a second. I'm very suspicious anytime it's quiet, as Drogaem has a tendency to sneak up on me. The room is still and dark, the only light casts flickering shadows across the walls. They give me an eerie feeling, but I turn back and slowly open the bottom drawer of the desk, pulling out the red wax stick and the heavy seal that I expertly stole from Kane's office earlier that week when Drogaem was off somewhere in the castle.
I hold the wax stick over the small flame of my melting candle until it begins to drip. The drops make me cringe, as they look like pooling blood against the crisp white of the paper. As the wax builds in the center of the creased and folded edges, I press the seal into it, holding it there for a moment and then lifting it off. It's Kane's signature mark, and I know that if any of the rebels or Willem himself find the letter like I'm hoping, they will recognize it right away.
Pursing my lips, I blow gently on the drying wax before folding the letter, gently sticking it in the top of my gown. The warm and comforting place next to Kane in the bed is taunting me, but I have important things to do before I rest. It has become evident that if Drogaem is to be beaten, or at least held back until Kane can regain his strength, I will need to be the one that does it. While Drogaem does have control over my physical movements when he wishes, I am in much better shape than Kane is at the moment.
I stand up and gently push in the chair, making sure to leave the place the same as when I entered. I hide the wax stick and the seal in the back of the empty drawer and pick up the candle. Things have changed so much since I first got here. So many things have happened. The little human that most didn't believe would survive the first week under Kane's thumb, has become the only person who is capable of saving everyone from Drogaem's murderous plot. Even I'm overwhelmed at the thought of it, but I must keep going.
Tonight I'm making a move, a dangerous one.
Reaching out to the rebels is something that can cause even more damage than before, but it is necessary. I will leave the letter near their training grounds in hopes that they have eyes watching. It is the last place I saw any of the rebels. But before I do that, there is something much more pressing that needs to be handled.
The night that Drogaem returned to his body, my dagger was lost. Being under his spell at the time, I don't remember what happened to it. However, the first night I spoke to Kane, he told me secretly that it had slid off into the shadows within the tomb beneath the castle. Drogaem never went back to get it, not suspecting that it was actually an enchanted and spelled dagger.
My feet barely touch down on the stone floors as I hurry from the room and down the hallway. I keep my eyes peeled, though I'm pretty sure at this point Drogaem is either asleep or lost in his own thoughts. He is incredibly self-absorbed, which works perfectly for me.
Taking the route back to the entrance to the tombs sends shivers up my spine. I haven't been back here since everything happened. I don't hesitate at the door though, I turn the corner and carefully head down the dark stairwell, running my finger along the stone as it curves around and down to the bottom. There is a cold chill that separates the catacombs from the rest of the Castle. It is pitch dark down here, and though I consider using my light to see, I know that I have to allow that power to rest as much as possible.
I do remember the layout down here like a bad dream. Three steps and to my right, just above my head, should be a torch. Below it, if they are still here, should be strips of soaked cotton to wrap around the end and matches to light the flame. I heighten my other senses and very carefully step forward with my hand up until it rests on the wooden handle of the torch. I lift it off the wall and then pat my hand around below until I feel the long scraps of cloth. Luckily, it's still damp. I wrap several around the end of the torch, but when my hand comes back down, I can't find the matches anywhere.
I've already been down here far too long, and I need to find the dagger and get out before I'm caught. Hurriedly, I take in a deep breath and put out my palm. I close my eyes and feel the heat begin to rise inside of me. I imagine what I want, even though I've never actually tried to use it for this purpose. I raise my hand up to the end of the torch and snap my fingers. There's a brief moment of brightness, and then I hear the crackling of the fire. I open my eyes and stare at the end of the torch, lit brightly with flames. The corner of my mouth twitches, but I hold back my excitement and pride for what I just accomplished. There's no time for that right now.
Picking up the front of my dress, I hurry down, wrinkling my nose the closer I get to the onyx slab were Drogaem's body once sat. When I reach the empty tomb, I find that the slab is still there, as is the caked and dried blood and several mortal bodies decaying in the corner. I hold the torch toward them, covering my mouth with my hand. Their bodies are bloated, and their skin is purple, and between the sight and smell of it, my stomach turns.
I hold the torch higher, looking all around the space. I don't see the dagger anywhere, and I'm desperately hoping that it didn't end up behind one of the mortal bodies. As I step forward, though, I hear the scraping of metal across the stone, and I looked down to f
ind my dagger hidden in the shadows beneath the onyx slab. A small breath of relief is released, and I pick it up. Turning it right and left, I can see the shimmer that radiates along the blade. Having it in my hand again feels almost poetic.
I quickly lift up my skirt and place the dagger in a small leather-bound sheath I had made before Drogaem came back, and had strapped it to my thigh this morning when I decided today was the day. With it snugly inside, I suddenly feel a bit safer, but I still have one task left. Getting the letter out is a dangerous idea, but I know that the longer I wait, the more dangerous it becomes. I know that every day that I wake may possibly be my last, and I know that I have to get someone a letter before that happens.
I hurry back through the tomb and up the steps, turning from where I assume Drogaem is, and head toward the large balcony on the east side of the castle. There are no doors, and no guards watching over. It is simple for me to slip right out into the darkness and down the steps. For once, I'm thankful that the underworld never gets as dark as the nights I remember in the earthly realm. The reddish hue to the sky allows me enough light to hurry through the gardens, across the horse pasture, and over to the training area.
The once barren ground is now peppered with weeds and growth. No one has trained there since Willem left. On the edge of the training area is a section of densely populated trees, all with black baren bark branches. At the far corner, there is a stump from a fallen tree. In that stump, one of the rebels had carved Kane's mark in the decaying wood. I stop and look left and right, making sure that I'm alone. I take the letter from my breast and stick it inside the long crack down the center of the stump.
My eyes glance up at the darkness of the forest, and I turn quickly, hurrying back across the lawn and up the steps. I look back over my shoulder at where I was, but it's too dark to see at this point. With my dagger strapped and the letter delivered, I hurry back to the room where Kane and I have been sleeping side by side. Gently, I open the door, slip inside, and slowly shut it behind me. Creeping across the room, I sit on the bed and stare down at my beloved. He doesn't know my plan, how I'm searching for help wherever I can find it, but I don't wake him. He needs his sleep.
As much as I want to lay down next to him, my mind is whirling and adrenaline pumps through my veins. I lean very slowly over and press my lips to Kane's cheek, hoping that he can feel my caring and warmth for him. My attention draws to the dagger strapped to my thigh. It's almost as if up until this moment, something was missing. But with the dagger and Kane in the bed, I'm starting to feel a bit braver. I'm not strong enough to wield my dagger yet. I may be motivated, but I'm not stupid.
One thing I do know without pause is that I want to be stronger. I want to train until my body, and my powers allow me the strength to use the dagger. And when I am… I will break Drogaem. I will break him in ways he doesn't even know exist.
Chapter 4
Kane
The vast expanse that I see before me is dark, not as dark as the void I had been trapped in, but dark nonetheless. My eyes shift down to my wrists, but there are no marks from the chains that bound me earlier that day. Rolling my shoulders, I can feel my wings intact and folded to my back. There's no pain, but the angst inside of me still remains.
I don't know where I am, but I can feel the surging darkness of Drogaem behind me. I spin my body around, finding Briar standing before me in a flowing, formfitting, glittering dress. It's reminiscent of something that I remember Lilith wearing decades before. Immediately I want to run to her, but as I move to pick up my feet, it's as if a hand reaches down and straps me in place.
I struggle, growling as I attempt to move forward, but the force is too great. A menacing laugh echoes around me in the hollow space, and instantly I recognize it as Drogaem's. "Let me go!"
"You will forever be my puppet."
Anger floods me, and I attempt to fight him again, but as I do, my arms raise without my authority. My feet begin to move faster and faster until my body jogs toward Briar. The feeling of cold steel appears within my grasp, and I look over to find a dagger in my hand. My eyes go wide as they shift from the blade to Briar and back again, realizing Drogaem once again has control over my movements.
I shake my head. "Briar! Run!"
She doesn't respond to me as if she's caught in her own nightmare. She puts up her arms and shakes her head as I approach. I fight the control of Drogaem, but I lose. My arm slashes down, and the blade runs across Briar's skin, spilling her blood. The sounds of her cries ache within my chest.
"Why? Why are you hurting me, Kane?"
"No!" I scream out in agony, but my voice only echoes around me.
My arm comes back up, and I manage to get control of the other, stopping the blade midair. I plead with Briar to leave, but she doesn't move. My entire body shakes from the strength it takes to keep my hand from slicing downward, but I am only so strong. My muscles give in, and I shut my eyes tightly, feeling the blade sink into her body. Finally, my hand releases, and I hear the steel hit the ground.
"Open your eyes."
I refuse. Drogaem will not get the best of me. I know what I will see when I open my eyes, and I don't think I can take the site of Briar bleeding on the ground. Not from the force of my own hand. I grit my teeth and fight against him, screaming out in anger and agony. Briar's whimpers begin to fade, and there is a burning within my chest. It's as if something is being ripped right from my soul.
As the pain reaches a piercing point, my eyes shoot open, and I gasp for air. In full panic, I look right and left, but realize I am no longer in the darkness. Instead, I'm sitting in my bed, a cold sweat dripping down my forehead, the light of the underworld late-night sky streaming through the window.
It was just a dream.
I calm myself, and the pain from my wounds is a stark reminder of my new reality. I throw the covers back and groan as I pull my sore legs over the edge of the bed and set my feet on the ground. Drogaem not only haunts me while I'm awake but now he haunts me in my sleep. I will not give him any more of my time than I have to, even if he is not the cause of the dreams.
My thoughts filter to Briar, the images of her lying at my feet bleeding still vivid in my mind. I know that if I leave this room, there's a good chance Drogaem will find me and begin the torture again, but I cannot just sit around and do nothing. Each time she heals me, I wake up a little bit stronger, and I know that if we can hold out, eventually, I'll be strong enough to fight him. But if anything happens to briar, I know I will be incapable of it.
Quietly I head down the hallways, moving away from where Drogaem tends to hover. My eyes dart all around in the shadows, waiting for any sign of trouble. I pass by the opening to the stairwell of the catacombs. There is no light, and I can assume no one is down there. As I take a right down the next hallway, I stop, seeing the flicker of dancing shadows behind one of the bedroom doors. Carefully I crack the door open and peek inside, finding Briar dancing around with her dagger, slicing through the air, her face focused and angered. She is training.
I push the door the rest of the way open and lean against the doorframe. She hasn't noticed me yet, and I like that. It gives me a few moments to take her in. She's even more breathtaking than I found her before. "Have you slept at all?"
Taking her by surprise, Briar swirls around on her heels, thrusting her dagger forward until the point is just inches from my neck. I don't flinch, I stand still and watch. When her eyes meet mine, they go wide, and her mouth drops. Reaching up, I push the blade away from me and lift my brow. "You need to be more careful with who you attack. Had I been Drogaem, he would've punished you, and we both know what kind of punishment he doles out."
Breathing heavily, Briar drops her arm and nods. "I know. But I'm never going to get stronger or better if I don't practice. Right now, everything falls on our shoulders, and you are taking enough as it is."
Eyeing her for a second, I realize she's right. Instead of telling her to go to bed or chastising her further
, I close the door behind me and grab a dagger. I look down at it, tossing it from one hand to the other, ignoring the pain that I feel within my chest and arms. She looks me up and down for a second, and I know she wants to ask if I think this is a good idea, but she stops herself.
Squaring up, she hunches down with her dagger out in front of her and waits for me to take a position. I move quickly, partly to give her some competition, but also to show her that I'm not as weak as she thinks I am. Knocking her arm to her side, I swipe my leg, knocking her off her feet. She lands hard and bounces, her eyes instantly narrowing as she stares up at me. The smirk pulls at my lips, and it is the first time I have looked at her that way since Drogaem. I am playful, but she is very serious, and it only makes her more adorable in my eyes. There is something very sexy about the way she handles herself with that dagger.
I put my hand down to help her up, and she swipes it away, jumping to her feet. Assuming the position again, we begin to circle each other. I can tell that she is getting tired. Her arms are looser than they should be, her shoulders slumped, and her emotions are getting the best of her. I don't back down though, I can't. There's a good chance she's going to be facing so much worse than me, and I want her to be prepared no matter what.
We battle back and forth, swiping here and there, but mostly getting tangled up in each other's feet as she attempts to make moves that she's just not strong enough for. On her last attempt to take me down, she jabs the dagger outward, and I spin with incredible speed, finding myself behind her. Her knees wobble, and I grip her under the arms just as they threaten to collapse. She lets out a deep breath of frustration and drops the dagger to her side.
I keep my arms around her, and I can feel her lean back against me, the warmth of her body rolling over mine. "You need to go to bed. Your stance is faltering."