From The Shadows : Book 2 in the Mortisalian Saga

by L. J. Stock

  “Yes, you. I hope you will forgive me, but I encouraged him. I knew it would keep him working for this.”

  “But...”

  “Just trust me. I will explain later, I promise.”

  Trust. It seemed like a big word that was coming up more and more often, and it was an even bigger gesture to give a woman I'd never met before in my life. If I'd had more choices maybe I would have asked more questions, demanded more answers. Made her earn the trust she was asking for. Unfortunately, we didn't have time for that. I had to offer her blind faith, or I would die. The only comforting thought was even if we failed, it wouldn't change the outcome.

  “Have you heard anything else?” Rasmus asked, his feet falling on the stone floor as he paced. I could hear how regimented he was moving. It was familiar to me, even here in these oubliettes.

  “I've heard lots of things,” Shannon said coyly, humor laced in the intonations. “Depends on what you're referring to, big boy.” There was a pause, and a small girlish giggle. “Wait... Are you blushing?”

  I found myself laughing. The sound was too jovial for the surroundings. It bounced off the walls around us, caging me in with the sound. I could almost imagine the incredulous look Rasmus was giving the wall between us, and it only made me laugh harder until it wouldn’t stop. The laugh, which had started as genuine humor turned into something resembling hysterics, which boiled down quickly into sobbing until I felt like I was losing my mind.

  I lowered myself to the ground with my arms firmly around my midsection, partly holding myself together from the stitch I’d given myself and partly comforting myself from the insanity. I was suddenly envious that Rasmus had received a roommate of any kind. It was another person to see, touch and take comfort from, someone firm and tangible, while I was stuck in the place alone surrounded by my own loneliness.

  The tears ran down my cheeks freely, forming drops on my chin before dropping onto my dirty and well-worn dress. I couldn't stop the jagged sobs from rocking my body, and I knew that Rasmus was listening to me and worrying. I'd held it together for so long, held onto my composure until my fingers were cramped and nails torn from the beds, but now I was a weeping mess with only me to hold myself together. It was pitiful.

  “Cassandra?”

  The keys rattling my cage didn't stop the emotions as they from poured from me, and neither did the appearance of the legs in my watery view. I'd been through a lot in my life, but I'd finally reached my breaking point. Everything hung in the balance now. My imminent death was hovering over me, and the thought of not seeing Damon again hurt so badly that I longed for those darts to put me out of my misery, even for a couple of hours.

  When Grigori wrapped his arms around me, I don’t think I could have stopped myself from burying my face into his white shirt. He moved around me like I would break with the most gentle of bumps. His long legs set up camp on either side of my body as he pulled me closer and held me together. The comfort was just what I needed. The touch was a reminder that I was still alive and couldn't give up. I knew it was wrong to do it, especially after Shannon's confession of his developing feelings toward me, but I needed it. I needed the human contact before I shattered.

  I don't know how long I sat there, kneeling between Grigori's legs and bawling into his broad, strong shoulders. Time, as always, seemed relative in my black hole.

  “What upset you, dorogaya moya?”

  “I'm just... I... It's all coming crashing down on me.” I sobbed quietly as the fissures of emotion turned into cracks. I hated how weak it made me feel. I also hated how vulnerable it made me appear.

  “What is?” he asked.

  “What do you think, nephew?” Shannon said quietly. “She has been strong for so long, but even those made of concrete break eventually. You must stop speaking Russian. She will not understand you.”

  “She understands me fine, tjótja,” he replied, his hands rubbing my back gently.

  I could hear Shannon's sigh even over my weeping. She was trying to help, but Grigori wasn't listening. I knew I should move away, separate myself from him, but I couldn't. I couldn't do anything but tremble in his arms.

  I also hated that I was doing this when, according to Shannon, Grigori was beginning to have feelings for me. I was in love with Damon and nothing would ever change that. Grigori was my captor, my jailer, and now my only hope, but that was all he would ever be to me.

  “I'm sorry,” I mumbled as I regained my composure and pulled back from him, while the guilt ate at me with contention. “I just lost it there for a second.”

  Grigori gave me a nod of his head in response. His deep brown eyes held mine in their gaze. If I never believed anything else Shannon ever said, I couldn't deny she'd been truthful about her assumption of Grigori's feelings when it came to me. Now aware, I could see it lingering behind his eyes. When I moved to stand up, he stopped me by catching my hands and holding me in place.

  Eyes moving to the door and back to me, I noticed for the first time that it was stood open. He moved his head from left to right when I looked back at him. He was telling me this was not the time, and trusting him, I nodded in agreement.

  “I have much to teach you,” he finally said. “Will you please take a seat?”

  I stayed where I was and watched him with wide eyes, intrinsically knowing that this was going to be an important lesson.

  Chapter Nine

  When Grigori had said he had things to teach me, I'd never once thought that could mean the magic the veneficus used. Rasmus and I had been unsure about the offer at first. Neither of us knew whether learning magic had something to do with how malicious the veneficus usually turned out. Both Shannon and Grigori may have disproved the theory but it didn't make me any less nervous or any more willing. It was a leap of faith, a huge one at that.

  From Shannon’s pep talk, it was only descendants of fire nymphs who could utilize the magic, and Shannon was confident that with nymph in both sides of my bloodline I would have double the strength to do what was requested of me. She had been put with Rasmus for a reason, and she was breaking some code the nymphs had by showing him how to utilize all of his magical talents with his single element.

  Having been fed so much information in a twenty-four hour period, I wasn't sure I would retain it all, but knowing we were running out of time to act only made me more determined to absorb every lesson I was given. Grigori had left a bowl of water sat just out of reach so I could practice how they utilized their magic to evaporate it. I'd been pushing for hours but the water had remained at its fill line. He'd told me that learning how to remove it would make learning how to reverse it all the easier.

  From the way he'd described it, it was simple physics egged on by our nymph genes. Like everything in this new reality of mine, nature played a huge part in manipulating space and matter. Unfortunately, that knowledge didn’t make it any easier to learn. I'd been concentrating so hard there was sweat beaded on my forehead as I glared at the bowl that refused to do anything. Grigori had promised to return in a couple of hours. He'd given me the basics and told me to work with what I knew, making me promise not to make a move to escape until everything was in place. I had made the promise and intended on keeping it, because it was the only way Rasmus and Shannon could escape as well.

  “Anything?” Rasmus asked, his voice filled with a mixture of hope and doubt.

  “No.” I exhaled in a burst and squeezed my eyes together in frustration. “Nothing's happening.”

  “Sweetheart, you have to really believe in what you're doing to get it to work. The only reason these guys are as strong as they are is because it's all they know and have no choice but to believe in it. Once you focus on that it will be easier to put into practice,” Shannon said helpfully, her tone as cheerful as it had been when she'd introduced herself.

  “Thank you.”

  “Sure thing,” she sang to me pleasantly. “Come along then, Rasmus, let's get back to work on you.”

  “You're gonn
a work on me?” He chuckled, his flirtatious tone not lost on me, even from another cell.

  “As inviting as that offer is, for now I mean getting you to access your element and use it well. If you're a good boy, however, I may reward you later.”

  Awkward.

  “Wow, do you two think you could whisper your innuendo over there?” I asked with a laugh. “As sweet as it is to listen to, I do find it distracting.”

  “Now where's the fun in that?” Shannon asked, humor lacing her tone. “I only have limited time with your gorgeous wall of a man guard, so I'm working on making an impression that sticks.”

  “I'd say you've done that a couple of times over,” Rasmus muttered under his breath, the smile implied.

  I shook my head and stretched, trying to get my concentration back on the bowl of water in front of me. For extra measure, I crossed my legs over themselves and placed my hands palm down on my knees and attuned myself to what I needed desperately to do. I focused on the water, the viscosity of it, the weight of it, the way it would feel in my hands. Even my mouth filled with saliva as I visualized drinking it. I tried to remember using it to translocate. How it felt as I passed through it, the liberation it offered. Water surrounded my mind, the gentle slosh of it ringing in my ears. I even focused on the way the light danced on the waves.

  I was so concentrated on every minute aspect of the water in my mind that I hadn't even noticed the change in my physical reality.

  “Cass? Are you doing that?” Ras asked, pulling me back into the moment. The second I opened my eyes to acknowledge him, a ball of water that was floating above the bowl splashed back to the floor.

  “Holy shit,” I squeaked, wondering whether to stay where I was or scramble to my feet. “I don't know. I was thinking about it, but I never... You saw that?”

  “Yeah, I can see the bowl from here. You did it.”

  The shuffle of celebration in the next cell over made my smile even more triumphant. I wasn’t sure I could do it again but once was a start. I knew I could do it. I just had to keep at it.

  “Hey, Cass. What generation water nymph are you?” Shannon asked, her voice filled with curiosity. “Where did the gene start?”

  “My grandmother,” I said, panting and attempting to focus on the water again.

  “What about fire?”

  “The same,” I replied, certain my father’s mother had been a nymph. I pushed my ever-escaping hair from my face and rocked forward. “Why?”

  Rather than words, all I received in response was a wave of what sounded like joyful laughter. At least I hoped it was laughter and not hysteria. It was almost as borderline as mine had been not a day earlier. I found myself hoping it was laughter because her crying would mean they'd made some miscalculations and that wasn't good.

  “Please tell me she's laughing.”

  “Yeah, that hideous noise is laughing,” Rasmus responded with a snort. It was followed by a light slap and his laughter. The two of them had hit it off. They played well together and the flirting was insatiable. Even unable to see them I could understand what their silences meant, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating when I was alone and completely lost as to what was so damn funny.

  “What is it?” I pushed, clueless as to what had caused the reaction in the first place.

  “Don't you see?” Shannon burst out, another giggle following the question. “They underestimated you again. Had they known you have as much nymph blood in you as you do, they wouldn't have left you alone down here or anywhere. You have as much, maybe more power than a large majority of the veneficus. All nymphs are taught that the second generation of their bloodline has more power than the first or third. My goodness, being second generation on both sides is unheard of, and it means that you're almost as powerful as a full blooded nymph.”

  “Would have been nice to know before now,” I mumbled.

  “Right.” She laughed. “Sorry, I figured they would have told you that. You have so much to learn about yourself and your race. All of the nymphs know this kind of information. They have tomes full of information about birthrights and bloodlines, but it was always kept quiet and hidden because they didn't want any of it getting out and being used by the enemy.”

  “So what does it all mean?”

  “What you just did, the humans call it telekinesis. My sister and I lived in Russia on the human side, which is why Grigori speaks it so fluently. It was the only way we could communicate with him as a child without the other veneficus understanding what we were saying. Sorry that was off topic, but my point is they used the word a lot in myths and legends and in institutions for the sick of mind. After some investigation, we understood that it was the undiscovered vis liberi who were able to use telekinesis. Of course, the humans were clueless, and most of the information we were able to glean attributed it to magic and chemical imbalance. It doesn’t matter what you call it, though. The point is you have the ability to move and bend matter with your mind.”

  “That would have been helpful weeks ago,” Rasmus teased and did something that earned him a giggle from Shannon.

  “How is that even possible?”

  “There’s a loaded question. How is any of this possible?” Shannon laughed. She had a valid point. Over the last year I'd been thrown into this world and all of the impossibilities that came with it. Learning that I had the ability to move objects with my mind shouldn't have been as much of a surprise as it was.

  “Why would that make me stronger than the veneficus?” I asked.

  “They're all first generation. It's why the underworld nymphs are taken. They think the direct descendants are the strongest and no one has ever set them straight. Any daughters born are vis liberi, who are used to reproduce and create the latros. They don't teach the latros magic because they mistakenly think they will be a weaker race, and no one has bothered to correct them.”

  “So they all operate on assumptions?” Rasmus snorted.

  “Very good, handsome. You can appreciate why we don't enlighten them, of course, which is why Cass can't show Grigori this new talent. If he doesn't know then he can't tell them, by choice or through torture.”

  “Right,” I agreed. “I guess I should work on what he was teaching me then.”

  “Probably best. Now, I'm going to take a nap.”

  “What?” Ras asked, before lowering his voice so all I could hear was a murmur.

  I concentrated as much as I could on the task Grigori had set me, but nothing more happened with the small amount of water left in the bowl, and I didn't dare to try to move it again. The last thing I needed was for Grigori to walk in while I was lost in my own mind. Instead, I tried something new. My other talent. Fire. The moment I started thinking about fire and every aspect of what it meant to me, the torches on the other side of the wall flared bright. It was something that had freaked me out in the past because it generally meant the arrival of Grigori.

  “Hello, Princess,” a throaty voice said, his tone raspy and thick. When I looked up, the suited man wasn't wearing a mask, but his face was scarred and mangled, his lip curled into a malevolent smirk as he studied me. “I've been waiting for an opportunity to meet you.”

  Running his hands along the bars, he laughed as I scrambled back as far as I could get from them. I smashed my head against the rock as I hit the back wall and it didn't seem far enough away. Fear encapsulated me, making my head immediately start swimming with discomfort, but outwardly I kept myself focused intently on the man prowling on the other side of the bars.

  He was taller than Grigori, but slimmer, his shoulders narrow and curled in as though he were aware of his slim build. Oddly, it didn't make him any less intimidating as he ran his hand along the bars with a gentle thump of his fingers as he went. I didn't know what he wanted from me, or what he was trying to prove, but his grey eyes stayed trained on me and made him look sinister. It was easy to see the difference between him and Grigori now I was looking. In hindsight, I would have been happier witho
ut the comparison if it had meant not having to meet this particular veneficus.

  “Surely you're not afraid of me?” he taunted, his tongue darting along his lower lip. “I heard so much of your bravery on the battlefield and here you are scampering into a corner like a common rat.”

  “Give me a damn sword and we'll see how you fare,” I snapped, using the last of my waning bravery. I was cornered and we both knew it. This false sense of bravado was nothing but a show and I'd have wagered he knew it.

  “There’s the woman I've heard so much about. It's going to be a shame to have to kill you like a dog, little one. You have so much fight in you.”

  He stared at me then, the consideration in his eyes leaving nothing to the imagination. It made me feel sick, the greasy roll of my stomach reminding me just how stuck I was. Digging deep, I raised my eyebrows, ignoring the pounding of my heart that echoed in my temples with the sound of thunder. This animal had come down here to intimidate me with the threat of my vulnerability and imminent death. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of being scared or begging for my life. If he believed he would get either from me he was mistaken.

  “You have nothing to say?”

  I pushed off the wall and stood tall, glaring at him as though he were a pile of horseshit in my path and I was in my best dress. I wouldn't say anything in response to him. If he wanted to play games then I would make sure his satisfaction was non-existent by refusing to respond to him.

  “A strong, silent woman standing defiant and unaffected,” he mused. “You do realize that your illusions are useless, do you not? I know, for example, if I were to step into your cell you would cower back in your corner with nowhere to hide, and no guard to stand in front of you.”

  I refused to see myself that way. I was a survivor and I would fight until my last breath, but I was still hoping he wouldn't test his theory. I hadn't once stopped keeping my strength up, but I wasn't sure I could win when I was only at half my strength. I tried to access all of my combat lessons with Damon. I held them in the forefront of my mind, hoping it would be enough to win the fight if we engaged in battle.