by Lisa Daniels
Phelan’s eyes narrowed, then his muscles relaxed. “You had better hope that the clans don’t realize you are here.” He immediately turned his attention back to Taja. Tilting a water flask to her mouth, he spoke to the stranger, “My hands are full at the moment, so you don’t need to worry about me. I wish–” His voice trailed off as he watched Taja’s eyes close, her body relaxing between contractions.
The stranger knelt down near the couple. “I can’t say that I have much experience with this. Mostly I just practice making babies. From what I can tell, it’s nothing but work from the moment the woman conceives, so I’m always floored when anyone lets something like pregnancy happen.”
Phelan glared at him. “Most creatures don’t have any control over that.”
The stranger laughed, “Of course you do. You just don’t know what you are doing. Anyway, I may not have much experience with pregnancy or delivery, but pain is universal. I won’t be able to deliver the little monster, so I hope your doctor gets here soon. Still, I can do a bit of work to make her more comfortable until the good doctor arrives.”
Phelan glared at him. “She is not having a monster. It is our baby.”
The stranger’s black eyes showed his amusement as he looked at them. “Oh, you dear boy. The two of you are bringing a sorcerer into the world, so you had best get used to people calling him a monster.”
Taja’s eyes opened wide as the conversation registered. “Phelan,” her voice wavered and it was obvious that she was already exhausted, “we have to protect–”
Phelan leaned forward. “We will. Don’t worry. We will go somewhere remote and–”
The stranger laughed, “No, you really won’t. I happen to know a lovely sorceress who is ready to take on your child and mentor him so that he is not a danger to the world or himself. Or you two.”
The parents frowned at him. Phelan spoke, “There aren’t any sorcerers or sorceresses in the world now.”
The stranger’s laugh echoed around the cave. “This little bundle,” he pointed at Taja’s swollen belly, “is the eighth one. And unlike the rest, he will be very much aware of what he is from early on. My friend will see to that.”
Taja looked up at him with as much defiance as she could muster. “What makes you think we can–” Pain shot through her again and she squeezed Phelan’s hand while clamping her mouth shut.
“Believe me, you will love her. Everyone does. You won’t have to trust me about it either because you are about to play a role in a long overdue reunion. They will get you to do the right thing. I’m not here to do any convincing.”
The pair exchanged a look then turned back to the stranger. Phelan hesitated, then asked, “Why are you here if you don’t plan to take the child away?”
The stranger was clearly amused. “I thought I just made it pretty damn clear I’ve no interest whatsoever in having children – either mine or other people’s. I just happened to be passing by and heard the shouting. Not being the kind of guy who can just ignore something that intriguing, I found something far more interesting than I could have expected. Since I'm here, I may as well be of use.”
Phelan tilted his head to the side. “Wait, what do you mean, a reunion? I have been exiled from the only people who would care. Are you here to make a dire situation worse?”
The dark-haired man ignored him and looked down at Taja. “Would it be alright if I put my hands on you for a few minutes?”
Taja was gritting her teeth as she tried to hold back the pain. A quick nod was all she could manage. The stranger’s hands went to her stomach, and almost immediately the pain subsided. Her eyes closed again, and she let out a loud sigh.
“Taja!” Phelan held her head up as she seemed ready to pass out.
She smiled up at him, “That feels better.”
Her eyes shifted to the stranger, who winked at her. “Go ahead and get some sleep. The whole messy process has been put on hold so that you can rest. You are going to need it.”
She gave a feeble laugh, then rested her head against Phelan. The stranger stood up. “Well, that about does it for me. I hope the doctor gets here soon.” He headed toward the cave’s entrance.
Phelan called out to him as the stranger reached the edge of the light, “What did you do?”
“I shifted the pain so that she could rest.”
The father-to-be frowned, “Does that mean that she will hurt worse later?”
An odd expression crossed the stranger’s face. “I don’t even want to know what your idea of helping is if you think that I would make the process more difficult later.”
Phelan frowned, “Why would you help us?”
The stranger smiled and rubbed his stomach as he looked up at the roof of the cave. “Call me an angel. Always going around doing good where it is least expected.” He then shook his head. “Never mind. That sets up expectations and gods know I’ve no desire for anyone to depend on me. Anyway,” he looked over at the couple, “she will be more comfortable for a bit. I’ve stopped the process for now so that other things in motion have a little more time to reach fruition.”
Phelan blinked a couple of times. “What do you mean? How could you stop the process?” His eyes watched the stranger as he stopped rubbing his stomach.
With a sigh, the man standing on the edge of the shadows said, “Nothing you need to worry about. Help her to rest and plan how you will get her through the next round. She is by no means safe; I merely improved her odds of survival, though I cannot guarantee it. Help should get here soon, but again I have no guarantee that they will be in time.” He turned and stepped into the shadow before seeming to remember one more thing. “And once you realize that I did in fact help her, do me a favor.”
The couple was silent, which he appeared to take as assent. “The next familiar face you meet, do exactly as he says without hesitation. Don’t question, don’t argue, don’t even say hello. Just do what you are told.”
Phelan watched the mouth of the cave, listening as the stranger left. Looking down at Taja, he felt that he should follow the man, but found that he couldn’t leave her side.
Looking up at the cave entrance, he muttered, “He didn’t even tell me who he is.”
A young woman woke up in what appeared to be a large cavern. Her eyes shifted around her environment, and she soon realized that the cavern she expected was not where she was. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, and she soon realized that she was in a catacomb. A small part of her wanted to scream, but most of her was curious as to what that meant. Her hands moved to her head where a thick pile of curls quickly covered them. Sliding her hands down her body, she could tell that she was dressed in burial garb.
I’m not dead. Why have I been entombed? I mean, I move, so I can’t be dead. Her mind pitched around looking for an explanation, but she couldn’t find one. To her horror, she couldn’t even remember who she was. The only thing that she knew with certainty was that she had been placed in a crypt because someone thought she had died. It wasn’t much, but at least that gave her a starting point. Who she was, why she was there, where she should be – all of that could be figured out later. Right now, she needed to escape.
Sitting up slowly, the woman pushed herself up and off of the hard slab where she lay. There was only a small lip, so that her departure from the resting place was easy. She was vaguely aware that this was fortunate as her body seemed to have problems moving. Some of her body hurt at the action, but something was pulling her to the surface, giving her the ability to ignore the pain and discomfort of moving. Her feet gently touched the ground. They felt a little strange at first, and she knew that this was not normal for her. Shaking her head, the woman decided that did not matter either. She had something she needed to do and thinking about her body was simply wasting her time. After taking a couple of tentative steps, she felt certain that she could move faster. Something was telling her that she had to move faster. With a deep breath, the woman moved her legs more quickly with each step. Sev
eral second later, her feet barely made a sound as she ran throughout the catacombs, her instincts guiding her through the labyrinth.
Chapter 1
A Waking Nightmare
The woman’s fingers were bleeding when she finally pried the door open. Her nails were completely torn and skin hung off in odd angles on a couple of her fingers. Two of her fingers were bent in the wrong direction, but she ignored it all. With tears streaming down her face, she let out a shout of anger and fear into the night as the force compelling her tried to hold her back from her escape. The scream echoed over the silent city below her. Her eyes flew open and she beheld something that momentarily made her forget everything else. She had been in a crypt that topped an entire city of the dead. Surrounded by death, her eyes took in everything around her. Her tongue flicked out, tasting one of the tears as she tried to understand her circumstance. The air was cold with a stale taste.
Now out in the open, a low murmur of voices was trying to reach her. They were soft and friendly, telling her to stay put and wait until the arrival of the promised one. Eyes wide with fear, she looked into the air for the source of the promises and cajoling.
“No,” her voice was faint as she muttered up into the darkness. She began to shake her head, and her voice was more forceful as she repeated, “NO!” The sound of her resistance bounced around the empty streets of the dead below her.
There was a slight murmur of disapproval, then the air began to crackle around her. The woman threw her hands over her ears and with the fear now driving her, she ran barefoot down the steps. She did not care as her foot struck a loose rock on the first landing and sent her sprawling across the stone surface. As her knee smacked into the ground, her body yelled at her to stop, but something was driving her forward, away from the tomb where she had woken.
Around her shadows began to move and sway, despite the lack of moonlight. She was vaguely aware that there was a better way for her to flee, but the woman was not interested in trying to figure it out as the sound of murmuring voices began to surround her, their kindness barely masking their anger and frustration at her resistance to them. As much as she hated the crypt, the only sounds had been of her making. Now she had no idea who or what was near her, but she could feel her hair beginning to stand on end. She got the feeling that the voices needed her for something, and she had no desire to find out what they wanted. Scrambling off of the ground and ignoring the pain and blood trickling down from numerous wounds, she cut off all awareness of sensations and let her feet take her down the stairs much more rapidly than she had moved up to that point.
The voices were getting louder, more desperate. The woman tried to block them the way she blocked the pain, but there was more to it than that. A pull in her mind was telling her to wait and stay. It was her gut that she listened to, though, and it was telling her to get out as quickly as she could. The voices around her were not benevolent, of that she had no doubt. Her gut told her that they were responsible for so many atrocities, and with a growing suspicion, she felt that they were responsible for her current predicament.
The woman ran through the silent streets, her feet instinctively moving in the right direction. Vaguely aware that there was a light moving through the streets with her, the fugitive did not stop to examine what it was or how it was able to stay with her. Her focus was solely on getting out as quickly as possible. The voices had done something and now they needed her. The only thing she was able to understand as she ran through the empty streets was that she had been dead. The voices had brought her back, and now they needed to use her for something. A few painful images flashed through her mind, but it was the tender voice in her ear that made her want to break down in tears.
“I won’t let you go. You can’t leave me.” In her mind, she could feel someone pulling her closer as if she could keep herself from dying by simply willing it. Something splashed down on her as her mind slipped, and the last thing she had heard before dying was a man pleading, “Please don’t leave me. You are the light to my darkness, and I don’t know how to live without you. ”
Water struck her foot, but the woman did not stop to find out why. Moving solely on instinct and fear, she searched for a door or gate that would get her away from her final resting place. When the images had started, the woman had focused on them, believing they would give her purpose, but now she wanted to block them out more than the voices. It had become difficult to breath. Shaking her head, the woman blocked everything else from her mind – pain, memories, voices, and emotion – as she moved impossibly fast through the streets. Time was not on her side; she could not afford any distractions from her single focus.
Escape. I must escape.
Sir Gwavas looked over the plans and let out a low whistle. “I’ve heard rumors about all of this. Well, maybe rumor isn’t the right word.” He scratched his head when Kerensa gave him a strange look. “I suppose it is more like folklore, or maybe–”
Suddenly Cyprian stood up, a look close to panic on his face. “No! No! No!”
Noely stood up beside him, looking concerned. Placing a hand on his arm to calm him, she asked, “What’s wrong Cyprian?”
His eyes looked wild as he looked down at her. “We have to find him. Now.” He didn’t utter another word as he rushed out of the room.
The remaining people looked at each other. Heath was the first to speak. “Noely, do you know what that was about? It wasn’t about that sudden–”
Noely’s eyes had turned back to the door through which Cyprian had gone. “I’m not sure, but I believe so, yes. I am not sure exactly what that tremor meant, although I can feel something on the tip of my mind. This has happened before.” Her eyes flicked back to Heath. Kerensa and her father turned to look at him, hoping for some sort of clarification.
“Good gods!” Heath sat bolt upright. “Oh gods, I hope he has a plan. According to Augustine, we should have had a few more weeks before–”
Noely shook her head, “No, this is something else. Something darker. They are trying to bypass the beginning of the ritual.”
Heath grabbed Kerensa’s hand, stood up, and gave Sir Gwavas a quick bow. “Excuse us, Your Grace, but we must leave. If you would, please see to everything we discussed. I will try to have word sent to you as soon as we know more.”
Noely was already running toward the door as Heath pulled a confused Kerensa out of the room.
“Heath, what is going on? Shouldn't I stay here with my family? We only just arrived.”
At these last words, he slowed down just enough to wrap his arms around her and sweep her off her feet. “I will not leave your side because I don’t trust anyone else to protect you.”
Kerensa looked at his resolute face. All of her other questions died on her lips as she looked back and hoped that her family would be alright. Pushing her glasses up, she turned her eyes forward, knowing that Heath was about to shift. She would need to focus so that he could move without hindrance.
As soon as they reached the door outside, Heath shifted into his ice dragon form. Without stopping, he swung Kerensa onto his back and lifted off the ground. Noely’s arms were outstretched as he gently lifted her off the ground and followed the slender form of Cyprian as he flew south.
With the gates now coming at her fast, the young woman didn’t even slow down as they cast a long shadow over her. The voices were nearly deafening, but she was no longer listening to them as she could hear her own heart pounding. Not sure how she was going to get through the gates, the woman decided to go with her gut. And what her gut was saying was to scream.
The scream was like a pain in her abdomen, and she could almost trace it as it made its way up through her chest. As soon as her lungs took in the next breath, the woman found herself shouting just as she was about to hit the door. The large metal gate gave way under the force of her body slamming against it. Pieces of metal flew away from the collision as the gates swung wide open. She began to slow down as the voices roared back into her hearing.
“There is no escape. You owe us everything, and we will take it.”
Having run a comfortable distance from the gates, the woman was feeling a clarity that she had not had since waking. Her emotions had calmed, and the fear had subsided. Now she stopped and turned to look at the dead city. “I owe you revenge. You had no right. No right to do this to me.”
There was a susurrus of disbelief. Finally, a single powerful voice spoke alone, “Here you are trying to lecture me again. You have already seen how well it worked before. Don’t think that it will go any better this time.”
The woman glared into the darkness. Now she knew that this being had not only brought her back to life, she was certain it had been the reason for her death. “I have been ripped from the peace of death. Don’t think that won’t come with severe consequences.”
The voice was low as it responded, “I am counting on it.”
Looking into the city, the woman thought she saw a pair of bloodshot eyes, and she recognized them. Keeping her voice even, she said slowly and deliberately, “I have been watching you in death.”
The eyes blinked, but the voice was confident, “That is understandable. All want to know the most powerful being.”
She shook her head and a small smile spread across her face. “I know more about you now than I ever knew in life. Your strengths, your weaknesses. Your goals.”
The last word struck something in her adversary, and there was a loud roar from the depth of the city. The eyes began to move toward her.
The smile slowly left her face as the woman balled up her fists. “Your pet cannot harm me outside of your city.”
The eyes disappeared as soon as she finished speaking and an uneasy silence ensued. The woman glared into the city, waiting.
Several minutes passed without any further sounds. It was as if all sound in the world had been shut off. Knowing that she was still being watched, the woman turned and moved forward. She had no idea where to go or what kind of world awaited her. Ever since she moved through the gates of the city a single thought had begun to consume her.