From The Shadows : Book 2 in the Mortisalian Saga

by L. J. Stock

  I covered my eyes with the heels of my hands. This was a nightmare. Everything we'd been working toward had been crushed in one evening. I was glad they were able to get the other nymphs out. I knew that Damon wouldn't let it drop. I should have known they would move mountains to get me out. Unfortunately, it had put a kink in our escape plans.

  “This is a nightmare,” I breathed.

  “Cass, you can't think like that. We're going to get you out of here. You're our only hope for survival. I will teach you everything I know while we wait, but you can't practice.”

  I nodded. I was hoping that my desperation would make me a quick study.

  “Okay,” she whispered again, looking up at the bars.

  Starting with a deep breath, she told me everything she could about the fire nymphs and their history.

  Fire was one of the most versatile of the four elements. It wasn't just for translocating. It held old magic that not even the veneficus knew of. Being a second-generation underworld nymph meant that I could use it to my advantage. Having the ability to use fire to my will meant I could do what Grigori had; I could cage people in, or form a wall that would burn nothing but what I wished it to. Those were the things that the veneficus knew about. The rest was much more complex. Being the descendant of a creature who was formed by nature herself, the first rule was to respect our gifts. Once that was mastered, the possibilities were endless.

  Unfortunately, the cells we were in rendered most elements useless because the veneficus had magic that could keep them all from being used. It was the very reason we were where we were. The cells we were in were the most protected they had. Being in rock meant that we were elementally starved, giving us no escape. I could conjure fire if I could counter the spell, which was exactly what Grigori had been teaching me.

  The underground nymphs extraneous magic went back to their association with Hades. His wife, Persephone, had been their Goddess. She’d taught them how to use their magic to move between the underworld and the old world. Fire was the most basic of the magic, and as a nymph's descendent I could manipulate it to do my bidding and create it from matter, which was exactly what I had been practicing up until now. Shannon was highly knowledgeable when it came to her history and their abilities.

  Some of the things she told me sounded like they were right out of a storybook. It was like legends that had come to fruition as she shed light on it all. As unbelievable as it was, she told me that with the right mix, I could forge my own weapons, breathe life into things that were close to death like a phoenix rising from the ashes. Anything that fire could do was at my fingertips.

  Each of the nymphs had their own added gifts. She knew very little about water, but she did know that their endowments were from their association with Neptune's favorite consort, Amphitrite. She was one of the first nymphs of the aquatic persuasion, and she was given all of the secrets. Shannon was convinced that, as old as Acantha was, she would have had direct contact with Amphitrite, which meant she held the secrets of the water nymphs. I, however, never said a word about my association with Acantha. She was giving me a history lesson, and though she seemed perplexed about my reaction to the name, she carried on without questions.

  Listening to Shannon talk about all of this information was fascinating, but it didn't take my mind off of the task at hand. We were running out of time. All of the new information would ultimately help us. She'd been more than happy to explain the workings of how to do most of the things she'd explained, but whether or not I was able to actually do them without practice was another matter entirely.

  I absorbed everything in my mind. I rolled it around and prodded it a couple of times, hoping that my mental cataloging would help me with using it should I need it. I paced the cell as she spoke, frustrated that I couldn't even attempt any of these things because of a spell that was held over our heads. Thánatos was a smart man, his many lifetimes had taught him how to cage in a nymph. From what Shannon had said it was all trial and error and many underworld nymphs had lost their lives in the process. Learning all of this only made me hate him more. He'd hurt so many, murdered innocents, used them as folly for his own amusement.

  I'd made the mistake of asking Shannon about him, and her blue eyes almost glowed with hatred. For the five hundred years of his reign on Grenalide, Thánatos had murdered every female child born to the nymphs in fear that they, too, would plot against him. He was paranoid, and his lack of compassion for not only females, but also for fire nymphs, stemmed from the betrayal of his mother. He had killed her in a fit of rage after. He believed he was entitled to be next in line to the throne, and when she'd approached him to warn him of the path he was on, he took his rage out on her.

  Shannon and her sister, Lelia, had managed to stay away from Thánatos. They fled Mortisali and lived in Russia for hundreds of years, always too afraid to cross back over. The first time they had translocated back to Mortisali, they'd felt safe. They’d stayed and made a life for themselves, believing they were free from danger.

  Unfortunately, they were not. They’d had no idea how close they were to a latros stronghold, and once discovered, they were taken. The veneficus who had been in command of the stronghold became enamored with Lelia, and even after a struggle, he forced her into servitude. She'd finally relented under the one request that her sister was spared. When she had Grigori, he took pity on her and let her have her child, hoping it would make her happy and want to serve him as his lover. She and Shannon had brought Grigori up, both of them feeding him as many morals and decency as they could. When he was old enough to start training, Lelia had refused to give him up. The veneficus had given her a few more years, but after his child was discovered, he had no choice but to ignore his feelings for the nymph, so he murdered Lelia and took Grigori from Shannon.

  Shannon was left alone for years. Her anger toward the men had made them fear her. She was never truly safe until Grigori was old enough to protect her himself. He'd never forgotten his mother or his aunt, and they were the only reason he was who he was.

  Knowing Grigori's story had only cemented the things I had come to believe about him on my own terms. He was stuck in a war that wasn't his. He was doing the bidding of a rhetoric he didn't actually believe in. When I'd asked Shannon about the first night I’d spoken with him, I finally understood his reaction. There had been too many people listening, and he'd reacted only for the audience outside of my cell.

  “He's giving his life for ours,” Shannon said quietly, all trace of humor gone from her vibrant eyes. I could see how much it would cost her to say goodbye to him, but I’d never considered what would happen after we’d gone. Not once.

  “You mean...”

  “Even with his plans for denial, he does not believe he will make it out of this alive, and I fear he’s right. He’s been down here too much for his denial to have any real impact.”

  I pushed up from my place on the mattress next to Shannon and started a vigorous walking pace in the small cell. I could feel the ruts and points of the stone under my feet but it didn't deter my path. Shannon watched me with eyes that were filled with understanding. I knew she could see my mind ticking slowly, looking for a solution. Any solution.

  “Cass...” she started, pushing up from her seat so she was nose to nose with me. Her voice was quiet and low, and her words were hurried. “No matter what you're thinking, you have to stop. He needs you to survive. He wants this war over just as much as the rest of us. I love that man as though he’s my own child, but we all know our positions in this war. You are the only one who can end this. We all have to make our sacrifices to get you there.”

  “How can you be so—”

  “I'm not.” Her eyes flared with the truth of her pain. “I have had many years to learn how to hide my emotions. When he was tasked with retrieving you, we formulated this plan together. He's gone above and beyond that because of how he feels about you. I know you cannot love him in the way he loves you, but I am appeased knowing if he dies
, he will know what it is to love someone.”

  I could see how much this pained her. For the first time her anguish was worn clearly on her ethereal features. She truly loved Grigori as her own child. They'd been through so much together and now he was putting our three lives above his own. I wasn't sure I could live with that.

  “Oh, God...” I choked, my hands on my stomach as the acid churned.

  The torches on the wall flared slightly as Shannon cupped both of my cheeks. She said only two words to me, but it was enough to pull me from the melting pot of emotions.

  “Stay strong.”

  I nodded as she backed away and fell back to the mattress, looking as relaxed as she ever had. She really was good at hiding her emotions. The anguish she'd worn so freely before was now gone. Her eyes were bright, her skin smooth and unmarred by the furrowing of her brow. I envied her ability to switch through emotions like that.

  My eyes moved slowly to the bars, and I hoped that I looked somewhat calmer, but the moment Grigori saw me, there was concern etched into his features. His eyes flicked to the hall he'd come from, and I knew he longed for the privacy we'd had before the prison break.

  “Princess, you look unwell.”

  “I'm fine. Just tired.”

  He nodded, his brown eyes boring into mine with concern. His whole body reflected his tension. The thick bands of muscle in his shoulders were solid against the simple white shirt he wore, and his hands were balled into fists at his sides.

  This wasn't simply concern for me anymore. The lines in his forehead were deep, his eyes were guarded and worry draped around him like a cloak. There was something more going on. Something he couldn't say because there were too many people listening. I wanted to ask him if he was alright, but I knew it was too dangerous. Should any of the others suspect that he was sympathizing with us, the game was up and we would all die.

  “Stand back from the bars. We are moving your warrior back into the cell. You will be facing your judgment as soon as our king arrives tonight.”

  Shannon sucked in her breath through her teeth. It sounded so loud in the small cell that my eyes flickered to her. I could see the terror in her eyes. She knew what this meant. She knew how dire our situation was. By king, I assumed he meant Thánatos, and Shannon's reaction confirmed it.

  Grigori moved away from the cell and paced down the hall to Rasmus. There was a scuffle, which I assumed was fabricated, and soon the two of them appeared outside of our cell. The door was unlocked and thrown open, and Rasmus was pushed roughly into the space as the door clanged closed behind him. Shannon was on her feet in a second.

  “I will return with your last meals.”

  As he retreated down the hall and the flare of the lights died down to its previous state, the three of us let out a breath. Rasmus wrapped his arms around us both and pulled us into his chest in reassurance. I breathed him in and tried to find my own strength as anxiety rose quickly.

  This was really happening. Tonight, I would either be in my own home, surrounded by the people I loved, or I would die at the hands of Thánatos.

  My blood ran cold through my veins, making the chilled air in the cell freezing. I knew Rasmus felt my trembles because he pulled me closer to him, just as a brother would.

  “Are you ready for this?” he whispered into my hair in his deep, gravelly voice.

  “I hope so,” I replied, and I meant every word.

  Chapter Eleven

  A lot of the time left in the cell was spent pacing. There was always one of us moving, our pent up energy needing to be spent somehow or we would have lost our minds. I'd thought I'd have hours to go through all the details of the plan we’d conceived. I'd thought I'd have time to be prepared and mentally learn everything I needed to learn so practice would be minimal. Unfortunately, life—mine in particular—had a funny way of ignoring my thoughts and assumptions before it threw me out of the frying pan and into the proverbial fire.

  The three of us were in various stages of unrest. I was pacing, my steps coming hard and fast on the uneven ground, as I ignored the dizziness of my constant turns. Rasmus and Shannon were trying to stop themselves gravitating together and spending more precious time in the other’s arms. I understood their need to hold one another as things came to a head, and I wasn’t willing to deny them that time together, but I wasn't sure how to even bring the subject up other than telling them to get just on with it already. Each step I took brought everything I'd been taught since I’d been imprisoned to the forefront of my mind. Theory and practice, however, were two completely different things. Try as I might, I still hadn't managed to reverse the magic that kept the elements out of our reach, and I was now going through it in my head over and over again, hoping that when the time came and the pressure was on, a miracle would happen.

  I wasn't naïve. I knew there was a chance that I might never undo the black magic and bring the elements back, but that was what the backup plan was for.

  Grigori had managed to bring down a barrel of water, leaving it just out of reach under the pretense it was our drinking water. He'd even laughed with one of the guards about how he liked seeing that longing in my eyes when I caught a glimpse of it. He fell into the role of captor easily in front of the latros guards, but I never missed the apologies he sent me with his dark eyes.

  The suspense of waiting was killing me, and even when I heard the footfalls of what seemed to be at least six guards, and the torches flared to life on the other side of the corridor, I simply thought it was Grigori coming to check on us again. It wasn't Grigori, however, and they weren't coming to check on us.

  Six guards arrived and stood against the wall while Harker appeared on the other side of the bars, his narrowed eyes and malicious smile fixed on me, and I knew we were in serious trouble. This wasn't part of any plan we’d put together, which meant one of two things. Thánatos didn't trust Grigori any more, or Harker was annoyed and taking the law into his own hands. Either way, I wasn't sure how to deal with this new development, or the sudden claustrophobia I was feeling. When the seven of them crowded the front of the cell and Harker revealed the keys, it actually took me a second to realize what they were trying to achieve.

  “Cass, get your ass behind me,” Rasmus growled, already shielding Shannon with his body, his thick arms spread wide as he took a fighting stance.

  I didn't argue. As with most combative situations, I followed the orders thrown at me because it could mean the life or death of my allies. As much as I wanted to stand shoulder to shoulder with him and protect the three of us, I'd promised him more than once that I would do as he said no questions asked. I crossed the cell quickly as the lock clicked open, and slid in behind him with my back to the back curve of the room. We were stuck without magic. All we had was our physical bodies and the will to survive. Even with my hand in Shannon's and concentrating on breaking the incantation over the cell, I could sense nothing had changed. Their faith had been severely misplaced. I couldn't reverse the effects.

  “Both of you fight when you have to and not a minute before. Save your strength,” Ras hissed under his breath, his inhales coming heavily as he prepared himself for the fight. Shannon and I said nothing, but touched one of his arms to let him know we'd not only heard him but understood.

  “Oh, this is going to be fun,” Harker growled, his voice thicker and deeper than it had been. “You and I, Princess, we have a score to settle. Your people took something of mine, and you're going to pay the debt.”

  The look in his eyes left no room for misunderstanding. The odd mixture of loathing and hunger looked wrong, and I felt the shudder run down my spine like a bead of cold sweat. I would die fighting long before I let him touch me in such a way. Shannon, understanding as well as I had, pushed me behind her and cornered me, offering another line of defense. I appreciated the gesture, and my heart warmed for my new friend, but there was no way she’d had the training I'd had, and I felt as though our roles should be reversed.

  “Shanno
n,” I whispered. My voice sounded hoarse to my own ears, even with the low tones. “You can't sacrifice yourself for me.”

  “Yes, I can,” she grunted in return, both of her palms pressed against Rasmus' back as the men, all in charcoal uniforms, advanced ahead of Harker. “Rasmus has been training me.”

  It caught me off guard. They'd been preparing for the worst even before the plan had come into play, and I realized what that meant too late. Like them, I should have been conserving energy rather than pacing. I should have spent more time keeping my strength up than uselessly exerting it.

  I'd put so much faith in the plan that I hadn't left any room for contingency plans outside of those we’d discussed. If I'd been in my right mind I would have figured out that a lot of this was left up to fate. Grigori had warned us that a lot of the guards in this place were gunning for us, especially after the raid. Shannon had mentioned Harker's favorite female had been saved and I should have put the pieces together.

  The air in the cell thickened imperceptibly, and there was only a second of silence before the chaos broke loose in the form of a war cry. The first two men able to work their way through the tiny cell door came at Rasmus with their swords drawn. Rasmus had nothing but the small chair for self-defense. He held it in front of him, not a visible shake to be seen in his grip. I now understood why Grigori had called him warrior as I watched him fight with the grace of a choreographed dancer. He advanced on the guards, pushing them back and using the chair as a weapon all its own. Their long swords weren’t an advantage in such tight quarters, and he’d accounted for that, too. In a blink of an eye, he'd relieved one of the guards of their short swords and now had an advantage of his own.

  He used the sword offensively and the chair defensively as he faced the oncoming soldiers. His hands and body moved with such strength and power I forgot myself for a moment. By the time I’d blinked back the surprise, he'd taken two of them out, which left only four of them and Harker crowding the cell entrance. They'd started at him only two at a time, but the men at his feet made it clear that was a mistake and the four left advanced in one move. It was too much for just one man and they took him down fighting, leaving Shannon and I exposed.