Is he upset about the binding?
“Solas?”
“What did you need to speak to me about?” His body is unmoving.
“Um… I don’t know exactly what’s going to happen. I was wondering if you could enlighten me on what the binding ritual entails,” I request.
His head raises, but he continues to gaze ahead of him at the cold candles lining the shelf. He lets out an audible sigh. “Cassius and Beckett will be waiting for you at the doors of the Throne Room. I'll let them know when we're ready for you. Everyone will be inside. You'll walk to the front and meet Beleth at the bottom of the steps where you will kneel to him, then stand. I'll begin the ritual—”
“Wait. You lead the ritual?”
He finally turns to face me, “Yes.”
My face falls, “I’m sorry, Solas. I don’t have a choice. I have to do this. This may be my only chance to get close enough to kill him.”
“I know, but maybe you don’t have to go completely through with it.”
“What are you talking about? I have to do this. I can’t turn him down now. It’s now or never.”
“I hate to ask this of you, but…there's a point in the ritual where it's required you both slice your palms open and mix your blood in the Cup of Unity. Your essence is contained within your blood. After it's mixed, you're supposed to drink from the cup first, then Beleth.” Solas steps closer to me. “Maybe you don’t drink, and only he does. When it comes time for the kiss to seal the first part of the bond, it will give you a chance to strike.”
I shake my head, “What if the others attack?”
“There are many that will protect you. I'll be by your side and keep the others away. The Griffins are on your side, as well as many other Fallen. The few that will try to attack will be immobilized and thrown into the dungeons.”
“Do you really think it'll work?”
“Yes,” Solas reaches for my hands and turns my palms up. Devotion, fondness, affection, regret. “We need to cover this,” he notes, examining the rank on my right forearm.
“How? Gloves?”
“I can get you some. Finish getting ready. I’ll be back shortly.”
Solas is only gone enough time for me to brush out my hair. I'm admiring the falling layers of the gown across my chest in the mirror when he returns. It startles me enough that my wings burst out of my back of their own volition. “Jeez! You scared the shit out of me!” I laugh at our reflection, fold my wings back, and turn around to meet his gaze.
“Don't hide your wings. You should leave them out. They’re divine,” his voice is low and soft. He steps forward and brushes the edge of my wing with his fingers. He utters, “Midnight divine.”
I blush, “Thank you.”
“Here. Try these,” he holds out a pair of black lace fingerless gloves, long enough to reach my elbows. They're embellished with tiny water crystal droplets that reflect the light elegantly. They complement my wings, and I become a split imagery of black and white—yin and yang, light and dark, good and bad.
“They're gorgeous,” I slide one onto my right arm and secure the elastic over my middle finger, so the point of the glove rests against my middle knuckle. They're perfect. I put the other on and behold both arms out in front of me. “Thank you, Solas.”
“You are very welcome.”
My bedroom door flies open and hits the wall in an explosion. “Ivy!”
Solas and I dash into the bedroom with angelic speed to discover Beckett huffing and sweating. “Beck? What’s wrong?”
“Your friends tried to storm The Keep,” he huffs. “We had no choice.”
“Where are they? What happened?” I rush to him with angry questions.
“The guards took them to Beleth. The Griffins didn’t know who they were. They thought they were protecting you!”
“Beckett! Where are they?” I demand.
“Beleth has them in the dungeons. He’s injected them with Qeres. There was nothing we could do.”
I put my hand on his shoulder to calm him, “Ok. Calm down. I’m going to take care of it.”
“How?”
“You just let me worry about it. Ok? You did nothing wrong. Let all the Griffins know I don't hold anything against them.” Beckett nods his head.
Solas voices, “It’s time. Are you ready?”
“More than ever,” I reply. We veer past Beckett, and Solas pats him on the back before we continue down the dank passageway, and I hold my dress up to the side, so I won’t trip.
I’m coming, Jack. Hold on as long as you can. You are mine, and I am yours.
Chapter 18
Solas and I reach the sealed entrance of the Throne Room, and I collect myself to appear confident for the binding ritual, while in all reality my insides are on fire with the thought of Jack, Alice, and Eric being chained and tortured beneath my feet as Trey and I were. Beckett informed us they've been infected with Qeres—an Egyptian perfume that's poisonous to Angels of Light and slowly eats away their essence—as Evelyn had once been before I unknowingly healed her by absorbing the poison from her body. I plan to do the same for my friends as soon as I find them. My wings rustle and tuck tightly against my back.
Solas glances over his shoulder to me, “He's ready. Are you?” I nod, letting my fisted hands loosen at my sides. “Stand out of sight and wait here until I announce you.”
He forces the massive mahogany doors ajar with both hands and enters as I step out of view. The echo of his steps changes pitch as he ascends the steps to Beleth’s throne of obsidian, and swish before they cease. His voice booms with a vibrating force, “My Liege! I present to you, Ivy! Daughter of Lilith, Princess of Darkness!”
I round the corner and throw open my midnight wings beside me in full extension to illustrate my allegiances with confidence in what I'm about to do. I stride past the throngs of Fallen to each side of the vast hall, and as I approach Beleth poised before the steps of his throne, each angel kneels, then arises after I pass. The Duke surveys my presence as I approach. I fix my gaze to his, tuck my wings back, and halt aside him. The legion of Fallen rank in a thick half circle, settling in to witness the ritual.
“Kneel,” Solas commands.
Beleth and I kneel on both knees, and Solas places a hand on each of our heads. When he begins to speak, he makes sounds and vibrations with a deep hum of a musical rhythm. The Enochian language is beautiful, and I wonder if I'll ever be able to master it. He withdraws his hands and motions for us to rise. As we comply, Beleth faces me, and I mirror his motion. His eyes no longer encompass their usual flames. Instead, they're all-encompassing black orbs, and I suppress the terror they instill.
Solas continues, “My Liege, repeat after me.” More words of Enochian language cascade off Solas’ tongue. I hope I won’t have to repeat him as well. There's no way I can speak as eloquently. Beleth reproduces the musical rhythm with his low grating voice. My body pulses with annoying shockwaves causing my center to clench in trepidation. “Ivy, repeat after me.”
I'm relieved when the words are in English, and I repeat the vow of the binding, “I surrender my essence to your possession. My spirit, body, and respect are yours through the eternity of my being.”
When my vows are complete, Beleth grins with narcissistic iniquity. Solas produces a silver dagger etched in gold symbols from the inner pocket of his suit, grips its hilt, and holds it high above him as he consecrates the blade in foreign Enochian. I focus on the glint reflecting off of the blade, envisioning myself plunging it into Beleth’s evil heart—if he even has one. After a few moments, Solas brings the dagger down and passes it to Beleth. The Duke accepts the blade and reaches for my left hand, which I don’t hesitate to offer. Triumph, sinister pride, possessiveness. His black eyes never leave my face as he gradually slices my palm from the base of my thumb to ring finger. Solas holds a silver jeweled goblet between us, and Beleth tucks my fingers into a fist, squeezing it tight above the Cup of Unity. Bright red blood drips into the cup unti
l my hand heals, impeding the flow.
Beleth transfers the blade to me hilt first. My heart beats harder against my chest, but I pacify my apprehension before he can doubt my demeanor. I smile as I relieve him of the dagger with my right hand, masking my anxiety as excitement, and he continues to leer with triumph and pride. I take his right hand in mine and direct his palm upward. Gripping the hilt tighter, I tilt its point into his palm. I perceive this moment as my chance, as his observation lingers on my face.
With my new angelic swiftness, I arc the blade up, twisting my wrist as it plunges into Beleth's throat. His eyes go wide, changing into a blazing inferno, and I use his stupefied hesitation to thrust the blade through the side of his neck. It slices as smooth as butter and blood spills over my arms, his suit, and the floor.
My smile never leaves my face as I focus upon Beleth’s lovely body collapsing at my feet, his head barely attached to his neck. Growls and battle cries reverberate around me, yet I refuse to take my eyes from him, knowing Solas will protect me. I perch over Beleth's body with the tilt of my head, studying his dying eyes. “Remember when I told you not to touch me? I guess you just found out how serious I was.” He blinks, and I imagine I don’t have much time left for him to remain incapacitated. “And you really shouldn’t have touched my friends. I remember telling you I would end you if you did. I keep my promises.”
I grasp the sides of his face and watch his back bow off the floor. Ice and fire shoot from my fingertips as the veins beneath his skin become visible black spider webs spreading like poison. Pain blasts behind my eyes and my vision becomes pure white light. My ears begin to ring, then my chest aches with the pull of Beleth’s dark essence. The light recedes from my sight, revealing Beleth's state. The black and red tendrils of his essence reach out from his chest as a spider would hatch from an egg. They're followed by a black mass of shimmering red specks. The monster of his essence floats in spirals high above us, and I can’t release my hold of Beleth. His essence stops at its apex and rapidly dives into my chest.
Excruciating fire engulfs my entire body, forcing a brassy, thunderous scream I didn’t know I was capable of producing. The entire room shakes and rumbles with my cry, causing the ground to crack and split beneath Beleth’s body. I sense my vision fading and struggle to contain a hold on reality. Beleth’s essence fills me with vile, foul images of his sins. Revolted with the malevolence, I fight to restrain the bile churning in my stomach. My body begins to cool as the intensity of reaping his essence completes its cycle. I stand on shaky legs and clear my focus staring down at his lifeless body.
“Ivy!” I turn in time to detect a pair of sai Solas tosses to me. Catching them, I spin into a crouch and leap at a Fallen soldier charging me. As I attempt to kick him in the chest, he grabs my ankle and twists. My body turns over midair, and I tuck back towards him, driving my blades into his thighs. I let my body's momentum work for me and throw the warrior overhead. We tumble as yin and yang until he lands on his back. He growls at my blades protruding from his legs, and I throw my own legs over his throat and chest as I pull his arm between them. I twist his arm, ratcheting it backward until it dislocates from his shoulder’s socket, and he screeches a guttural cry. I don’t want to kill anyone unless I have to, so I twist his neck with a quick snap to incapacitate him until he heals.
I roll to my feet and wrench my weapons from the unconscious warrior. “Chief!” I call out to Solas on my left. He bashes his knee into his opponent's face, finishing him off, and leaps thirty feet to my side. “How do I get down to the dungeons?”
“I’ll take you. Stay close,” he instructs and gestures with his head to follow him. He leads me up the steps past the throne and veers through a hidden doorway offset into the wall. “This way.” We rush down the spiral cobblestone steps with few torches lining the walls. The temperature drops as the sweat from the limestone façade thickens the air the further we descend.
We approach a dead end. “Now what?” Solas ignores my question, raising his right hand to the rock wall as beautiful Enochian words spill from his lips. A square outline illuminates with golden light, and the dead end gives way to a large opening. "What is that?"
He steps through the opening, "Beleth's wards.” My mind tumbles over the possibilities of the wards and what more they could be capable of. Solas interrupts my reverie, “Down here.” I continue to follow him through the threshold he created, discovering a narrow corridor lined with iron cages that are separated by stone walls for as far as I can see. He picks up his pace into angelic hyperspeed, and we whisk down the prison to a solid steel door. He seizes my arm to halt me, and I find myself more accustom to his touch and the emotions he unintentionally shares with me. Determination, protectiveness. “There will be three guards inside, one for each of your friends,” he whispers. “One will be guarding the door. The other two will be...working on your friends.”
I cringe at his words. Working? You mean ‘torturing’? I nod once and step forward to open the door.
He halts me again. “It's locked. They won't open the door for you, only for their commander. Step aside until the door starts to open.”
I do as he instructs and tuck myself against the wall as a scream comes from inside. Alice! Fury courses through me.
Solas beats on the steel door with the side of his fist six times and waits. There's a clunk and the grating of metal sliding. The heavy steel door creaks open enough for the guard to acknowledge Solas.
“Commander,” the guard greets in a deep, hoarse tone.
“Elias, I’m here for the prisoners. Beleth wants them displayed in the Throne Room,” Solas states.
Elias attempts to divert, “Displayed? We’re not done here. They have more information about the Princess.”
“Are you questioning the request of Our Liege?” Solas growls into Elias' face, pushing himself into the torture room.
“No… No, Commander,” Elias stutters. Whining comes from inside the room as one of the prisoners continues being tortured.
“Well, you should,” Solas admits. I hear his blade unsheathe, and I storm into the room. Solas has sliced Elias across the chest, and they're now crouched for attacks as they counter step around each other.
I have no time to hesitate as the other two guards charge me. I hold my sai tight and spring over the first guard, landing in front of the second. I let the force of his onslaught impale him onto my blades. Spinning around, I slice the arm of the first guard as the one behind me clutches my waist. Planting both feet into the guard before me, I thrust him yards away. The guard holding me lifts me into the air and slams me off the ground, causing my teeth to clack on impact. The ground cracks with the force, but luckily I have my wings tucked, and it softens my landing. I roll away before he can stomp my chest in and spring to my feet as they both charge me in unison. Solas dives into one of the guards, taking him down. It becomes one-on-one with Elias already disposed of.
I stand my ground and let my opponent plow me into the far wall. He doesn’t have a weapon and pushes my wrists against the wall while his mountainous body pins me in place. The power of the blow jars my grip on my weapons, and they clatter to the ground. “I’ve been waiting for this day, Princess,” his voice slithers like a snake, and I twist my head away from him as his tongue strokes my cheek. Attraction, narcissism. “Watching you parade around here like Beleth’s little pet,” he spits his last word. “I knew he couldn’t break you…but I can,” he growls into the crevasse of my neck.
“You can try,” I growl through my gritted teeth. He begins to laugh, but I terminate it by slamming my head into his—signature Ivy move when I'm in a bind. Both my head and his nose gush blood. His grip remains strong. I use my wings to push me off the wall and spit in his face. He releases my wrists to wipe his eyes, and I take my opening. Wrapping my left arm over the nape of his neck, I swing onto his back and let my arm twist around to the front of his throat to block his airways. He tears at my arm, but I've locked it in place with my rig
ht hand clutching my left wrist. He rips my black lace glove as he chokes and stumbles backward, pushing me back towards another wall. Before we reach solid rock, I plant both feet into his spine and snap his neck. As he collapses, I stand on his back between his black wings. Without hesitation, I grip the arches of feathers on either side of my legs and rip them from his shoulder blades.
Solas stares at me from across the room, dumbfounded. I can only imagine what a sight I am to behold—a massive ebony appendage in each hand, dripping with blood as I prevail over a half-naked and unconscious Fallen angel. My face is dripping blood while my wings spread high in victory. Solas had disabled the last guard before I broke the neck of the one beneath me.
Dropping the wings, I spot my friends suspended from the ceiling in the corner of the room. They dangle in the air lifeless, feet swinging inches from the floor. In the middle, Jack's face and body are covered in blood. Gashes mar his entire body around black and purple bruises. His dark verdant wings hang, molted and stagnant. Alice and Eric drape on either side of him. Yet, they're suspended differently than Jack. While Jack hangs from a chain binding his wrists over his head, Alice and Eric mirror each other with their hands bound behind their backs, binding their wings behind them. Both of their heads hang low on their chests with blood dripping from their mouths, eyes, and ears. But the worst realization is the meat hooks speared through their chests, holding them aloft. They sway like pigs in a meat locker ready to be carved.
As I take tentative steps towards them, I can’t determine who to help first. “Solas?” I rasp low with tears burning my eyes and a lump in my throat. I look away from the macabre scene.
“I’ll get the two…,” his voice trails off. “Try to wake the Arch in the middle.”
The Helio Trilogy: Volumes 1-3 Page 23