Eternal Night (Aeternae Noctis Book 1)
Page 6
He turned to Ashra. “How do I get back to the city?”
Ashra’s smile did not reach her eyes. “Why?”
“I’m taking her home.”
“And what if I told you that your parents are dead?”
Jaden’s breath caught. He gritted his teeth against the wave of grief. His grip tightened around his sister’s small body. “Then she is my burden,” he said without hesitation. “She is destined to end the eternal night.”
Ashra waved her hand, the gesture weary. “She is most welcome to her destiny if she will take the humans off our hands in the process.”
Jaden shook his head. “I don’t understand. You’ve oppressed us for centuries. You need us to sustain you—”
“Understand one thing, human. Under no circumstances do we need you. For a millennium, we have been burdened with you. The vampires we created out of necessity. Everything we’ve done, we’ve done out of necessity and thankless duty. You want your sister? Take her and go. Her fate is in your hands.” Her wings spread and beat down, carrying her aloft, out of his reach.
He stared at the odd icrathari who stirred emotions in him that he was not prepared to address, who answered his questions with statements that evoked more questions; the icrathari whose face had haunted his dreams for five years—a face that finally had a name. “Ashra—”
Her shoulders moved in a dismissive shrug. “Run away, Jaden. If you can, return to your little life, to your small world. You have no place in mine.”
She is destined to end the eternal night.
Ashra snorted. She had tried to reach out to the human, to bridge the gap as Siri called it, but obviously all he could think of was the prophecy, the one that spelt doom for the icrathari, vampires, and humans alike.
She turned her face away, not wanting to see him flee with his sister cradled in his arms.
He was a human, and when he was awake and aware, he had no recollection of the precious soul or the memories he carried inside. He had no place in her world.
She had to let him go even though, for a moment, he had listened. He had questioned; he had challenged. Questions were often the start of understanding, but in the end, he had turned away.
He had not looked back.
Ashra threw a glance over her shoulder. Her chin lifted, though her soul ached. She could not let him walk away. She could not turn her back on him without knowing what portion of Rohkeus’s soul had come to fruition in its fragile human host.
How would he fare when faced with the truth of the ruined Earth? Would he have the strength to survive the revelation, and the will to thrive under altered circumstances?
How much of Rohkeus did Jaden possess?
She had to know.
We are not done. Curse you, Jaden, and damn the priceless soul you carry in you. I would never have given you a chance otherwise.
Chapter 6
Jaden's body should have given out hours earlier, but willpower and the driving need to protect his sister kept him going. Mercifully, the physical effort kept him from dwelling on the emotional turmoil stirred by the icrathari. Breathing heavily, his heart pounding from the effort of pushing past his injuries, Jaden emerged from the stairwell onto the lowest level of Malum Turris. The bundle in his arms stirred.
He sagged against a wall. Khiarra’s large blue eyes blinked up at him. “I can walk.”
He set his sister down, but supported her until he was certain she could stand in her own strength.
She did not wobble. In fact, she was steadier than he was. She peered around him. “Where are we?”
“Malum Turris.”
Her eyes widened, and an awed smile spread over her face. “We’re in the tower?” She looked down at her linen smock and plucked at the coarse material with obvious disgust. “What is this?”
“Ask me later. Stay close to me. We have to get back to the city.” With Khiarra beside him, he searched each room in the maze-like level. He opened every sealed door he came across by peering into the glass panel that he now realized was some kind of security system.
Khiarra’s mouth dropped open the first time the door slid back. “It’s magic.”
Jaden glanced at his sister. His mind spun—Ashra’s words melding with the wonders of a world he had never realized existed beyond the city of Aeternae Noctis. No, it’s technology—technology the icrathari have kept from us. What else have they denied us? They’ve kept the world from us too. There’s no reason they would have imprisoned us within the dome other than to sate their needs.
Except Ashra had said otherwise.
Would you believe the vampires’ demonic overlord? For a thousand years, they stole our children.
But they returned the children, some of them. The others sleep, eternally young.
And others are purged, their bodies stripped to their base essences to nourish the flowers.
How could so much light reside with darkness, so much good entwine with evil?
He growled low in his throat, turned, and slammed the palm of his hand against a wall. What are you, Ashra? Demon or angel?
“Jaden.”
He turned to see Khiarra standing next to a sealed opening set in the floor. His brow furrowed. The city lay around the tower, not under it, but Khiarra’s small fingers were already tapping on the console next to the opening. The floor slid away, and darkness yawned up at them. “Get back, Khiarra.”
It was too late. She screamed, falling.
He dived after her. His greater weight allowed him to catch up with her, and he pulled her into his arms. Her small body shuddered against his, her scream torn away by the wind. He twisted around so that his back would take the impact of any landing, though in the darkness, he could not tell when the landing would come.
Judging by the distance they were falling, he was certain they would not survive.
Chapter 7
Jaden closed his eyes and held Khiarra tight. He braced for impact even though he knew his efforts were futile. Khiarra would die; he had failed.
Powerful arms seized him and Khiarra. His eyes flashed open, and he stared into a beautiful, pale face with golden eyes. “Ashra.”
Her bat wings were invisible in the darkness, their powerful beat soundless against the roar of Aeternae Noctis as it swept overhead.
Stunned, Jaden stared up at the underside of the city—a vast sheet of metal, its smooth surface marred by massive cylinders that gushed powerful, heated jets of air, bearing the city aloft, a hundred feet above the ground.
No, that was impossible. Aeternae Noctis was built on the ground. How often had he pressed against the glass, staring at the magnificent and unchanging vistas outside the dome, scenes of snow-capped mountains towering over lush meadows and pine forests?
Aeternae Noctis was not a city hovering above the Earth, constantly on the move.
He stared at the domed city as it raced toward the west.
But it was…
His jaw slack, he stared at Ashra. His pulse fluttered as his throat worked, the words lost, buried by disbelief.
The icrathari’s face was expressionless. Her silence carried a rebuke louder than words as she lowered them gently to the ground.
Khiarra’s rosebud mouth widened into a smile. “You’re pretty.”
Yes, she is. Jaden looked around. “What is this place?” He took a few steps forward. Dust and sand swirled around his feet. He knelt and placed his hand against the parched ground. Jagged lines cracked into the baked earth. There was no vegetation, none that he could see. The sky was clear and cloudless, the arc of the moon visible.
He shivered as much against the chill of the air as the iciness that lodged within.
Nothing. There was nothing.
“Are we in hell?” He scarcely recognized his trembling voice.
Ashra shook her head. “This is Earth, what’s left of it.”
“No, the Earth is verdant—”
Ashra shrugged, the motion indifferent. “What you’ve seen is a hologr
aphic image projected from the tower. We did not have the heart to take your memories of Earth from you. Humans wither without hope.”
“What happened?”
She kicked her sandaled foot, tracing patterns into the ground. “A thousand years ago, humans fought their last war. Their vaunted technology destroyed each other. Their ultimate weapon damaged the atmosphere.” She looked up, her golden eyes sad. “The sun, the source of life, brought death instead. It scorched everything in its path. The only safety was found at night.”
“But it doesn’t explain that.” Jaden waved his hand at the dome-encased city, hovering above the ground, its engines churning.
“When the humans began the final war, Rohkeus saw their doom. He designed Aeternae Noctis, and we turned humans into vampires by the thousands, conscripting them to hard labor to build the city.” She turned her back on him, apparently lost in memories. “He drove them hard; by the hundreds, they died from exhaustion, but the city was built and stocked mere hours before the planet began to die.”
“Stocked?”
“With humans and with the genomic samples of every possible animal and plant species we could salvage, but for all our efforts, we saved only a fraction, less than fifteen percent of known species. The rest perished, as far as we know.”
“There’s nothing alive out here?”
“Nothing you care to run into, human,” she said with a sneer.
“And it’s been like this for a thousand years?”
She glanced around. “It has improved. According to Phillip’s studies, the air is breathable now, and it is not nearly as frigid at night. In time, perhaps you humans can return to your planet, and we’ll be rid of this burden.”
“Is there no joy in your responsibility?”
She looked pointedly at Khiarra. “Is there in yours?”
He looked at his wide-eyed sister who was staring at Ashra with awe. “Yes, when there is love, there can be more than the tedium of duty.”
She shrugged. “Well, you wanted to be free of us, and now you are. Enjoy your life, Jaden Hunter. You have two hours to sunrise.”
“Ashra, wait. Damn it.” The powerful beating of wings swallowed his curse. Ashra vanished, a pale streak of silver against the night sky. Why save us from the fall if you’re going to leave us to die?
Khiarra tugged at his pants. “Jaden, I’m afraid. Where are we?”
“Outside paradise.” He lifted her up. “We’ll have to find cover before the sun rises.”
The glow of the moon offered enough light to see by, and Jaden could make out rocky crags in the distance. It was hard to gauge how far they were, but they were out of options. He shifted Khiarra around so that she could straddle his back. Her small arms wrapped around his neck. “Hold tight.”
She squealed with delight. “It’s like a horse race around Lake Spiritus.”
He chuckled. “Yes, it is.”
He carried Khiarra’s slight weight and hurried through the night. The cool air whisked away the sweat of his exertions, though his muscles quivered, exhausted. As he neared, the outline of the rocky crags shifted into focus. Like the teeth of a predator, they cut through the canvas of the sky. He cast a glance at the horizon. It glowed orange. Heat radiated from the east. They were almost out of time.
He looked at the sheer rock face. The handholds were few and far between. Gently, he shrugged Khiarra off his shoulders and tucked her into a crevice. “Stay here. I’m going ahead to find a safe path and a place to hide. I’ll be back for you.”
She stared up at him. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’ll come back.”
Khiarra pressed her mouth into a thin line, but did not manage to conceal the tremble of her lips.
He stroked her head, and then with a leap, started up the rock face. His gaze searched ahead for ledges to use as footholds, but there were too few. Often, he had to press his palms against the surface and lean into it for sufficient purchase. Teeth gritted, he hauled himself up the rock, struggling for each hard-won inch. Knuckles bloody, he dragged himself over the top of the cliff. He sagged in exhaustion for a moment, and then raised his head to survey his surroundings. The top of the cliff was as barren as the ground below, but there was a cave set in the northern wall. It would be protected from the direct rays of the rising and setting sun.
It would keep Khiarra safe for as long as the sun was in the sky. Then what? What about water and food? What could he find out here that the sun had not scorched?
He pushed to his knees, but the motion was cut short when a pale figure soared from the cave, carried aloft by bat-like wings. An icrathari? It was short-haired; it was not Ashra, he was certain of that much, but what would another icrathari be doing out here?
It had not noticed him. It quickly vanished out of sight, flying toward the west, toward Aeternae Noctis.
Jaden pushed to his feet, reached over his back, and unsheathed his blades. He ground his teeth against the sharp pain rippling through his abdomen as his open wounds tugged and pulled against his clothing. Moving on silent feet, he closed the distance to the cave. He saw nothing and heard nothing, but instinct brought his arms up, his blades slashing outward. A snarl ripped the darkness as the black of the cave peeled back to reveal a demon no taller than the icrathari, but hideous where the icrathari was beautiful. Its skin was cracked, blackened by the sun, and its eyes glowed yellow, not the muted gold of Ashra’s eyes, but bright yellow. Its grin exposed fangs.
It leapt for his throat.
He parried the attack. His blade slid through the demon’s stomach. Blood the color of gold dripped from the open wound. The demon’s eyes narrowed; it shrugged as if dismissing its injury.
From the darkness of the cave, two other demons emerged. With hisses of malicious glee, they threw themselves at him. Jaden spun, ducking beneath their slashing talons. His intensive training allowed him to survive the initial attack in spite of his injuries, but he screamed when one of them broke through his defenses, raking claws down his back and driving him to one knee. The metallic scent of blood filled the air.
One of the demons licked its lips as it studied Jaden with an expression of wicked anticipation.
Jaden pushed to his feet. Shafts of pain pulsed down his spine. His back muscles screamed in protest of the smallest movement, but his grip tightened on his blades. “Come on. I haven’t got all night.”
With a sneer, the three demons pounced. He fought two off, his blade cleaving through a demon’s arm, but the third demon tore bloody gashes into his left arm. Jaden cursed, damning his weakness. His left hand was nearly useless, the muscles too damaged to wield his weapon. Instead, he hurled his right sword like a dagger—it pierced a demon’s wing—and then transferred his remaining sword from his left hand to his right. He had injured all three of them, at least once, but their injuries did not seem to faze them. They circled him, their darting gazes wary. As if in silent agreement, all three lunged at him simultaneously.
He ducked, slashing up with his blade to slice through the chest of one of the demons. It collapsed, screeching, but the other two pounced on him, their talons tearing through skin and flesh. Pain, red hot, scored through him. Blinding white light fluttered across his vision, and then the attack vanished. The suffocating weight of strong limbs was lifted off him.
Bewildered, he glanced up. Ashra had seized both of the demons by the scruff of their necks. She flung one away from her and ripped the head off the other demon before driving her claws through its stomach.
When the demon she had cast away launched itself toward her, she disposed of it as easily as she killed the first. The third demon, wounded and faced with an icrathari, fled, its bat-like wings carrying it toward the east.
Jaden dragged himself upright. Dread coiled through him. The glow on the horizon was more than just a glow. Sunrise was no more than minutes away. Khiarra!
He leapt over the edge of the cliff, half-sliding, half-falling, all the way to the bottom. Khiarra rushed out
of the crevice and threw herself into his arms. He bit back the groan of pain. “On my back, hurry, and wrap the towel over your head and body.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck as he began the climb up the cliff. His fingers were slick with blood, his left arm too badly injured to carry his weight and hers. Halfway up, he slipped, sliding several feet down the cliff face before catching on a ledge with his right hand. Teeth clenched, he glanced toward the east. He was out of time.
“Jaden, it’s hot!” Khiarra wailed.
“Stay under the towel.” The rock smoked beneath his fingers. He clambered up several more inches, but the edge of the cliff seemed too far away. His skin burned, peeling back to reveal red, raw flesh.
Khiarra’s weight against his torn back disappeared. “Jaden!” she screamed, her voice coming from high in the air.
He looked up, his eyes narrowed against the bright light. He could scarcely make out Khiarra clasped in an icrathari’s grip. Together, they vanished over the top of the ledge. Had Ashra taken Khiarra to the cave? He prayed so.
His skin scalded from his sizzling flesh. Driven beyond pain, Jaden clawed his way over the top of the ledge. A powerful force snatched him up. He bit back the scream of agony at the contact. In a flurry of beating wings, light gave way to darkness. The punishing heat cooled enough for him to realize how much pain he was in.
He raised his head, struggling to focus his blurred vision. Khiarra huddled in the darkness, tucked between two rocks. Sandaled white feet paced in front of him.
“Fool.” Ashra’s voice spat out a curse.
He pushed to his feet and stumbled toward Khiarra. “It’s all right,” he whispered, his tongue heavy in his mouth, the words distorted.
Ashra’s hand clamped down on his uninjured arm. “Sit down before you pass out.”
His gaze fell on her arm. Her pale skin was reddened from her fingertips to her exposed shoulders. Her white gown appeared scorched in places, as if held too close to the fire. He reached for her hand. “You’re hurt.”