by Plum Pascal
The moment we’re all free, I open the door leading into this prison wing with care, cracking it only a few inches to make sure we’re alone. We are. Light invades the darkness of the prison and I have to blink a few times as my eyesight grows accustomed to the light.
I turn to the useless sprite. “You will be our scout,” I instruct him. “Fly ahead and when you come to corners, stick to the walls and check that the way is clear.”
Yes, I could use my own shadow magic and perform The Arcane Eye, which would allow me to create an invisible, magical eye that hovers in the air and receives information regarding our whereabouts. But I’m afraid this palace is warded with light magic that might detect my darkness. Not to mention that using too much of my magic will exhaust me and I need all the energy I can reserve. Who knows what still faces us?
“I aye, Cap’n!” the sprite says with a little salute and flies ahead of us as we start moving swiftly through the dungeon.
He keeps an eye out for more soldiers and signals for our group to advance when the corridors are clear.
“We have no idea where we’re even going,” Cambion whispers, his voice grating.
Eilish looks up at me. “Variant’s bedroom might be our best bet,” she says. She then describes Variant’s quarters and the doors to the terrace. A terrace which would allow us to exit into the gardens below.
“His private quarters might be guarded against intruders,” I argue.
Eilish shakes her head. “I know his bedroom isn’t protected by anything other than his soldiers. And sometimes it isn’t protected at all. Every time he’s invited me there, I’ve never felt the buzzing of warded magic that I feel here.”
Lacking an argument, I simply nod. It’s the only plan we have so we’ll take it.
We make our way toward Variant’s quarters under Eilish’s guidance. The sprite flies back around a corner from where he just came, explaining between gasps of air that three soldiers occupy the hall and are coming our way.
Revenant steps forward. “I’ll take care of it,” he says.
Before I have the chance to argue, he steps around the corner and holds up his hands, palms facing the soldiers who immediately go into fight mode. But, they’re too late. Shadows leach from Revenant’s hands as a sphere of negative energy, The Circle of Death, ripples out in a sixty-foot radius sphere, capturing the soldiers who immediately drop dead.
“And if these halls are guarded with light magic?” I growl at him. “What then?”
He simply shrugs as he faces the bodies. “Raise Dead,” he whispers the enchantment and the dead soldiers begin to stir. “Command,” he continues and then informs them that he’s their new master and they will only answer to him.
“You will lead us to Variant’s chambers and allow us passage, defending us from those who would interfere with our mission,” he finishes.
“Impressive,” Cambion says with his head cocked.
His words of encouragement only further aggravate me.
When we reach the double wooden doors leading to Variant’s quarters, Revenant instructs his zombies to enter the bedchamber and report back what they find. They’re gone for maybe two minutes before they return and announce there’s no one in residence.
Pity.
I would have loved the chance to peel Variant’s face from his skull and watch him flail helplessly.
Eilish is right. There are no wards in the room. We approach the terrace doors and Revenant unlocks them, throwing them open immediately. We feel the breeze on our faces and the feeling is blissful enough to be wholly indescribable.
It has been a long time since I’ve found myself in Variant’s Castle in the Sky and as I take in the grounds beyond the terrace doors, I’m overcome with memories I could do without. I shake them off and instead, focus on the soldiers who patrol the stone walkways, weaving in and around the lush garden.
The word “garden” is inadequate when it comes to characterizing the oasis below us. Verdant grass leads to a forest of trees on one side, and on the other, it extends to a manicured paradise of roses, lilies, tulips, daffodils, and narcissus; the list goes on. The smell of flowers is pervasive and floats into Variant’s chamber, along with bees and dragonflies.
The manicured portion of the garden is sectioned off by a waterfall of crystal blue water that feeds into a large lake, housing various exotic fish as well as a few merpeople who live in the craggy rock outcroppings at the bottom of the lake.
Beyond the rock walls embracing the gardens and this castle, is nothing but the clouded sky. It’s fitting that Variant named his fortress the Castle in the Sky because that’s exactly what it is.
Cambion taps my shoulder and points to the strong wards that outline the lush green oasis on one side of the palace. They appear as a white, glowing fence of sigils. There are no sigils on the other side of the palace as the forest is dangerous enough to keep intruders out and prisoners in.
Years ago, Variant populated this forest with the worst creatures in the Fae and shadow realms as a protective measure. The nightmare creatures are bound within the perimeter of the forest by magic. It would be an absolute disaster were the creatures able to penetrate the magical walls of the palace grounds…
“Are those…” Cambion begins.
“Possession Runes,” I interrupt.
“What the fuck’s a Possession Rune?” Flumph asks.
“Powerful magic,’ I respond, with my stomach in a knot. Possession Runes will definitely make escaping more complicated.
“That ain’t answerin’ my question,” the sprite complains.
“Possession Runes reveal to trespassers their greatest fears,” Revenant explains, and I notice with envy that Eilish watches him with rapt attention.
“Or the things they most regret,” Cambion adds.
Revenant nods. “The runes are vicious enough to cause their victims to become insane, which usually leads to self-sacrifice.”
“Well, we gaves it a good effort,” Flumph says as he turns away from the terrace doors. “May as well give up now an’ get our asses back to that cold-as-fuck dungeon downstairs befores the Evil King realize we escaped.”
“We aren’t giving up now,” Eilish says with steel resolve.
I glance down at her and she looks up at me, nodding. I nod back at her, pleased to see the fight in her eyes.
“There’s a way to get through the runes,” Revenant says.
“How?” Eilish asks.
Revenant is quiet for a moment or two as he apparently formulates a plan in his head. “I’ll sound the alarm from somewhere in the palace and draw the attention of the guards away from the gardens. Walk the same beat as they’ve been walking, and you should make it out of the garden without any issues.”
“But,” Eilish starts as she shakes her head and her eyes fill with concern.
“I’ll find a way back to you,” Revenant responds, his attention solely on her.
His words cause me to grit my teeth.
“You had better find your way back,” I respond, with my eyes narrowed and angry. “You’re the only one with the rune that summons Pyre.” And then I remember Astral’s words—that Pyre can assist us in freeing Morrigan. Maybe now is as good a time as any to attempt to free the Midnight Queen? I say as much to Revenant, who immediately shakes his head.
“Now is not the time,” he says.
“Then when is the right fucking time?” I demand, glaring at him. “We need to free Morrigan! Her power combined with ours will be enough to allow us all to escape.”
Revenant shakes his head. “I can feel Pyre’s will within me, owing to the mark he left on me,” he starts and pulls up his shirtsleeve. The red sigil that bears Pyre’s signature continues to glow from his skin. “And now is not the time to attempt to free Morrigan. We need to flee this place and regroup.”
“And then?” I demand.
“First, we regroup, then we plan. Meet me at the rear of the palace, where it borders the forest.”
He turns around, heading back towards the doors to Variant’s bedchamber. His zombie soldiers await him at the door. He says something to them and the four of them disappear beyond the door. We hear a ruckus in the halls followed by the vampire’s deep laughter.
Cambion continues to keep watch over the garden from the terrace. “The guards are fleeing the garden,” he announces as he looks over at me. “If we’re going to make our move, we should do so now.”
I nod and approach the terrace. Cambion simply vanishes from sight, reappearing on the grass below. Flumph flies down and the two of them face us with hurried expressions. I grip Eilish’s arm and pull her into me. Anger must still be journeying through my veins because I pull her into me so hard, she yelps.
“Sorry,” I mutter. Then I close my eyes, imagine my shadows swirling around us and deliver us to the ground below.
My boots hit the grass with a quiet thud. Flumph floats over to Eilish’s shoulder, taking roost there, as we carefully navigate the gardens.
SIX
Baron
The Castle in the Sky
I hear the sound of thundering boots behind me as I move at a fast clip with a smile on my face. Perhaps this move was pure foolishness on my part, but I could think of no other way for all of us to escape this place, other than creating a diversion. And as Cambion and Dragan are well-recognized, I was the only one who could create said diversion. No one will be looking for Baron, as he’s believed to be six feet under. Furthermore, I have stealth on my side—I can’t say the same for the ragtag group. Were we all to remain together in our attempts to flee this place, we would stand out like demons in heaven.
With regard to my comment to Dragan about the time not being right to free Morrigan… I was bluffing.
Truth be told, I don’t like the thought of risking our asses for the Midnight Queen. If she’s truly been taken prisoner by Variant, then she wasn’t the all-powerful being we believed her to be. And that means we don’t need her. If, however, she isn’t at the behest of Variant, then attempting to free her would prove to be a wasted venture and one we can ill afford.
With regards to the message from Pyre’s spirits, I don’t put stock in Dragan’s belief he heard voices. Yes, yes, I quoted to him the message that shadows could not be imprisoned. Then how could I not believe in the voices when I heard the message? The truth of the matter is that I had simply been eavesdropping in Dragan’s mind—an enterprise not wholly difficult as the gargoyle was projecting his emotions as though they were words on a page. I just simply opted to read a line or two.
No, I hadn’t actually heard anything from Pyre’s spirits. Furthermore, I’m of the belief that since Pyre marked me with his sigil, and not Dragan, were they real, the spirits would have reached out to me, not to him.
Returning to the subject of Morrigan, I must confess I am quite underwhelmed by the notion of trying to make contact with her. Perhaps I’m merely bitter, but I believe she could have attempted to resuscitate me after I was stabbed by Variant, but she didn’t. As I understand from my spotty memories, Morrigan did nothing to resurrect me during, nor after my untimely death. Instead, she waited one hundred years to bring me be back, depositing me in a rough and ugly world of which I had no understanding. Morrigan had awakened me, had called on me to do her bidding. But that was merely the extent of her instruction and I was forthwith left to my own defenses.
And for what? To protect an angel-demon crossbreed?
“You roused me from the grave, then left me to my own defenses all this time,” I accuse her.
“You must understand the time wasn’t right, my Revenant,” Morrigan responds.
“Then the time is right now?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Then what is my purpose? What was the reason you brought me back from death?” I ask.
“You must protect the angel,” she responds. “She is not what you think she is. She’s the answer to unseating Variant and returning the balance to the realms.”
It was only the second time, in the course of my second life, that Morrigan spoke to me.
I shake off the memories because they cause me distress.
The sacred leader of the realms can keel over and die for all I care.
I never asked to be reborn to this fucked up world and Morrigan has been anything but nurturing. Damn her and her fucking bidding. I will protect Eilish simply because I care for her. She’s as lost as I am, and no one understands her the way I do.
That, and I must admit, at least to myself, that the blood in her veins is like a drug—the most addictive aphrodisiac. And yes, I can think of far worse things to do than feel my cock pushing into her slick passage. I will protect her because I choose to protect her. Not because the Midnight Fucking Queen demands it of me.
In my opinion, there are too many players on a board that’s ready to implode on itself.
Yet here I am, once again placing myself in direct danger so the others can live to fight another day. Who would have thought I had such a big heart?
I look over my shoulder and curse when I see the multitude of soldiers gaining on me. My zombie soldiers will only be able to protect me for so long. And without my potions and with my decreased strength, this little coup d'état won’t last long.
I move faster, tapping into what little power still remains in me from Eilish’s blood. I need to drink her again—her blood provides a form of unequaled sustenance.
I make my way through the palace and end up in the kitchen—a place for which I’m wholly unprepared as vampires and culinary locations are not close bedfellows.
There must be a servant’s entrance nearby? I ask myself.
I scan the room, in search of a way out, but find something even better—bottles, flasks, and vials of random liquids and powders. I quickly read off the titles of some of them: Potion of Healing, Vetter’s Acid, Sprig of Mandrake, Holy Water, Lich Oil... There are enough chemicals here to create a nice little explosion to aid me in my escape.
Gripping the Vetter’s Acid, the Holy Water and the Lich Oil, I grab a nearby wooden dish and dump the contents of each vial into the bowl. Instantly, the chemicals begin to fight one another and the result is a purplish mist that would choke the breath from me if I possessed a respiratory system.
I turn the oven on as high as possible—heat will be central to the success of this concoction. Then I tear the curtains from the barred windows and douse them in the bowl before shoving them into the stove. The smell is quite atrocious.
The sound of boots reaches my ears once again. I have little time. And, damn me, but the oven certainly takes its time heating. As time is a luxury I can ill afford, I focus on the white cotton fabric of the curtains. Then I summon my shadows, hoping I still have enough strength left to work my magic.
“Burning hands,” I whisper.
I glance down to see my fingers alight with flames. I simply reach over to the curtain and touch it. It ignites instantly in flames of blue and white. I dampen my magic, watching as the fire consuming my fingers recedes into the white of my flesh.
I crouch down in the corner of the room as the flames of the curtains dance forth, their tendrils of fire searching the wall and the ceiling. I hold my hands up, towards the fire, and move my fingers across the air in front of my face. The flames respond by moving in the same direction. It won’t be long now.
By the time Variant’s forces enter the kitchen, the fire is in full rage, consuming the entire wall and fanning out across the hallway to a row of cabinets. The men are momentarily stunned but then immediately begin coughing and sputtering, owing to the noxious fumes that are both blinding and confusing.
With a smile, I turn for the door that leads away f
rom the kitchen. I take a sharp left and find the servant’s quarters, slipping through the door unseen. I open the door leading away from the servant’s area and stand still, attempting to discern the magical wards that are no doubt in attendance, but I feel nothing.
I open the door and glance through the newly darkening dusk sky and to the armed soldiers standing between me and certain escape. I wrap myself in shadows and using the expert speed of my race, I catch them unaware, ending their lives before they even realize their lives were threatened.
Aside from an accidental stab wound to my upper arm, owing to an overshot on my part, I am quite pleased with myself. I hurry towards the rear of the palace, hoping the rest of my motley crew has been able to make their own escape.
When I turn the corner of the building, being careful to stick to the shadows, I see a reflection of satiny material.
Eilish.
She stands beside the stone of a garden shed, hidden by the shadows of the night. And I see the others just behind her. As I watch, Dragan reaches a protective arm around her middle and pulls her into him, reprimanding her about being too visible. He doesn’t drop his arm but presses her against him.
Anger burns in my stomach and I’m momentarily surprised by my reaction. Ordinarily, I am not a jealous man. Perhaps this jealousy is owing to the fact that I’m willing to share Eilish, but Dragan is not.
Bad deal for him because he’ll have to share her. I’m a man accustomed to getting what he wants, and I am far from finished with Eilish. If he wants her, and she wants him, he will have to come to terms with the fact that she also belongs to me.
I make my move and join them behind the shed. Eilish sees me immediately and her face lights up with a broad smile. She separates herself from Dragan, much to his irritation, and comes right for me. I catch her in my arms and lift her, twirling her around in a circle just to piss Dragan off more than he already is.
“You’re bleeding?” Eilish whispers when she pulls away from me and glances down at the blood staining the naked skin of her collarbone.