“I wanted to tell you sooner.”
“Tell me?” Will asked, cocking his head to the side. Realization dawned on his face and he nodded and snickered. “Ah, yeah. That wasn’t quite what I was expecting.”
“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you as soon as I figured it out.” Madigan paused and held up his hands, his Shade billowing from them as smoke from a flame. “But I didn’t know how you’d take it. And there was Cephora, who was already suspicious, so I had to pretend that it wasn’t something new. And then we got into it about the Relics and Morella and everything and…” He trailed off.
Will picked up the train of thought. “And then time just kept passing.”
“And the moment was never right,” Madigan nodded. “Exactly.”
“I get it, Mad. I do.” Will glanced back, making sure that Morella and Cephora were still well out of earshot. “Do you remember how terrified I was when I first figured out about mine? I didn’t know how to handle it at all.” He smiled and nudged his brother. “At least now the scales will be a bit more even when we spar. I was getting tired of winning all the time.”
“Ha!” Madigan laughed. “Is that the case? Perhaps it’s about time to bring a bit of humility back into your world.”
The shadows were tracing his palms and dancing across his fingers. Will glanced back at their camp once more, then held up his own hands. Without hesitation, his Shade appeared and mirrored Madigan’s. They both smiled.
“Quite the pair we make,” Madigan said. If only Grandda could see us now.
“Perhaps we should start calling ourselves something awesome, come up with superhero names,” Will said with a wide grin. Madigan rolled his eyes and Will nudged him with his elbow. “No, I’m serious! Something epic and awesome, like the Brothers of Darkness.”
“That is neither epic nor awesome, kid.” Madigan shook his head and smiled. “You’re absurd.”
“Always have been, always will be.” Will returned his smile and the darkness vanished. His eyes trailed after Morella. Madigan watched and immediately knew his thoughts. He snickered a bit and Will snapped his attention back.
“Somehow, in all of this, you managed to find a little happiness, eh?” he said.
“More like it found me.” Will shrugged and grinned wide. “And hey, I’m not the only one.”
Madigan raised an eyebrow. “Meaning…?”
“Ynarra. Didn’t you two kinda—”
“That’s different,” Mad said quickly. “Plus, I’ll probably never see her again.”
“I hope you do. Morella and I, well, she’s good. I feel like a spectator half the time wondering ‘how did I get here?’ But I’m definitely not complaining.”
“As long as you’re good, Will.”
Will looked at him, tilting his head and frowning a little. After a moment he said, “I’m good.”
Madigan opened his mouth to say something further but paused. Instead, he clapped his brother on the shoulder and gestured after Morella. “Then go get her, Brother of Darkness.” Grinning, Will winked and sped off. Madigan watched, torn, and called out after him. “You’re my brother, Will. Always.”
Will turned back and gave the smallest hint of bowing his head. “Always, Mad. You’re stuck with me.”
As his brother disappeared after Morella, Madigan returned to his bedroll and closed his eyes. The Brothers of Darkness. He smiled and allowed himself a moment of wishful thinking filled with thoughts of the adventures he and Will could get into, thoughts of all the good they could do with their abilities.
25
The Daurhi Wastes
The journey into the vast expanse of the desert was not an easy one. There were no trees, no cacti, nothing that could provide any kind of shade. The land was sprawling and sloped, never level, with as many sharp rocks underfoot as sand. The shifting nature of the terrain made every step treacherous, and casual walking was an impossibility, being on high alert as they were. To Will, it always seemed that there were cliffs far in the distance that could offer them respite. But whether they were a mirage or just that far away, they never grew any closer.
The group took to traveling only in the early mornings and the evenings, splitting the day in two and taking their rest during the hottest parts of the day while they braced themselves against one another during the coldest parts of the night. The dark nights were awash with countless stars that littered the sky. The moon remained full and vibrant, never waxing or waning, and would have allowed enough light to travel by had the cold not been so overwhelming. How a place that was so scorching during the day could accumulate such a level of frost at night boggled Will’s mind.
Cephora had estimated five days’ travel through the Wastes to find Shale, but it was not until the ninth evening that they discovered it. In that time they had nearly exhausted both their water supply and rations and were forced to spend the final day filled with hunger pangs, each on the verge of utter dehydration. Morella and Cephora both somehow fared far better than Will and Madigan on that front. Finally, Will ended up using some of the power stored within the fangs to soothe their fatigue and the first hints of sickness from lack of water. But knowing of the potential dangers still to come, he refrained from using too much.
They had climbed a steep mound of razored rocks when Cephora stopped them suddenly at the summit. The mound ended in a sheer drop on the opposite side, as though half of it had been cleaved away by a giant sickle. She dropped to a knee and touched the stones on the ground, closing her eyes. Her mouth moved quickly as it voiced incoherent, nearly silent words. After a moment she stood and turned to the group. “This is where it will be.”
“Will be?” Will asked, his throat cracked and parched from thirst.
“It is not currently phased into our plane,” Cephora said as she rose. “But when it does, this is where it will be.”
Madigan stepped to the ledge and surveyed the area as Morella spoke up. “And do we have any idea of when that will be?”
Cephora wiped her dusty hands on her cloak. “Minutes. Hours. No more than a day. If the intonations of the stones are accurate then I would presume it will present before daybreak.”
Will chose to ignore his urge to ask after the intonations of rocks and set about trying to turn the glasslike stone shards into some semblance of a bed. At a questioning glance from Madigan, he explained. “I’m exhausted, and if the information we have about this place is to be believed, we’re about to walk into Hell. If Cephora says we have a window to rest, well, I’m going to milk it for all it’s worth.”
“Mmm, good idea,” Morella said as she made her way over to Will. “Mind if I join you?” It was the first time she had been so blatant about them being more than travel companions. Cephora, although obviously aware of what had been going on between them, still raised an eyebrow, disapproval plain upon her face. Will didn’t care for the look and bristled.
“Not at all, Morella,” Will said as pleasantly as possible. “Please, make yourself as comfortable as you can.”
Cephora shook her head and pulled Madigan aside as Morella unrolled her blanket and draped it around her. While Will tried to ignore the jagged rocks below him, she pulled her body close to his and draped her arm over his chest. Suddenly, he became very aware of Madigan and Cephora’s presences and hushed voices in contrast to the measured, carefree breathing of the woman at his side. He didn’t sleep one bit.
After lying there for almost an hour, he rolled away and rose to his feet. Madigan and Cephora paused in their conversation as he approached and crouched next to them. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“You’re not interrupting,” Mad replied. “Your input is always welcome.”
“Input on what, exactly?” Will asked.
“Where we go next,” Cephora answered.
Will hadn’t given it much thought but, as soon as she said it, his mind jumped to the Relics. Their rumored power was tantalizing and all too inviting. He was about to voice his suggestion but hesitat
ed. If they managed to kill Senraks, despite Madigan’s insistence that this was purely recon, what need would there be for the Relics?
Morella said Valmont may still be alive. While Senraks had been the agent of his grandfather’s death, Valmont had been the hand that guided the blade. Could they find him and, if so, should they?
His thoughts drifted to Morella, sleeping soundly despite what was coming. He wondered what she would do. After spending so long in search of the Relics so she could defeat Valmont and find the justice she sought, where would she go? And what if he really is dead? How would she feel knowing that her quest for them was for nothing? Everything seemed to hinge on what was about to happen and what information they would get from it.
Will sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know,” he said.
Cephora smiled as Madigan spoke. “Hard to imagine that we’re already here, isn’t it?”
Will nodded.
“We’ll be okay, Will,” Madigan continued, giving a small smile. “Grandda trained us well. We can do this.”
When he mentioned their grandfather, it triggered something within Will. He knew exactly what he wanted to do after defeating the blood beast. Hesitation be damned. “Valmont, that’s what’s next. After Senraks is defeated, we take care of Valmont.”
Cephora sighed and shook her head. “Valmont is dead,” she said. “Why do you press this point?”
“His influence, I mean,” Will said, although he didn’t believe it for a moment. “If he is dead, then we track down his…what do they call them? His Necrothanians. We end all traces of Valmont’s influence.”
“There was only the one blood beast, yes? Senraks?” Cephora asked as she looked off in the distance. “It will be difficult to track the rest of the brood but not impossible.”
“There’s more?” Will asked, feeling his stomach sink. Cephora nodded and he groaned. “Do we know if we’re on the trail of the right one, at least?”
“I’m not the one who traced the creature to Shale. That information was gathered by an agent of the Crow,” Cephora reminded him. “I was just brought as a guide to make sure his hunters reached it.”
“Either way,” Madigan said, taking control of the conversation in a tone that brooked its end. “We need more data. Until we get into Shale, we’re only operating on open questions.”
The conversation drifted. Will ran his thumbs along the bloodstones and felt the meager power coursing through them, simultaneously hoping he wouldn’t need to use them while praying that they held enough energy, just in case. It had been weeks since there had been any new source of fuel for them and the drain from reinvigorating Madigan and himself had depleted the majority of their stores. He sighed. There was nothing for it now; they just had to keep pressing forward.
The coldest part of night came quickly, biting and chilling. As its frosts covered the area, Will returned to Morella and lay down next to her for warmth. Her breathing was smooth and he wrapped the blankets over them tightly. She made a small, sweet noise of appreciation.
Suddenly it didn’t seem right that she was there with them, entering such a dangerous place. She was a scholar. She had no training. She said herself that her success in defending herself against the bandits had been due more to luck than to anything pertaining to skill. The more Will thought about it, the more concerned he became.
Finally, as the chill of the air started to lessen, he nudged her gently. “Morella.”
She groaned in annoyance but snapped her eyes open. “I was having a good dream,” she said.
“Here? I’m surprised.” Will chuckled. He shifted and brought his forehead close to hers. “I’ve been thinking. Are you sure you want to come into the prison?”
Her eyes narrowed and she pulled away just enough for Will to notice. “Of course I’m sure.”
He hesitated briefly on whether to press the issue. She can make her own decisions. It isn’t my place to boss her about. He nodded and gave a little smile. “Alright. I just wanted to make sure that you felt comfortable with it.”
She pulled away farther, shifting onto her elbow and giving him an unflinching glare. “Comfortable? What, do you think that just because I’m a woman I can’t handle it?”
“A woman?” Will said, confused by the rapid change in her demeanor. “What, no, that’s not it at all. It’s just that you’re a historian and none of us know what we’re getting into in there.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “You said yourself it was only a matter of luck that you held off those bandits as long as you did! I just didn’t want you to be dragged into something this dangerous because…” He trailed off as her face softened and broke into a smirk.
“You’re sweet, Will, really. I can handle myself better than I let on. I wasn’t always a historian and I have a few tricks up my sleeve. Those bandits caught me unawares but this time?” She dropped her elbow and nuzzled her head into his chest. “This time I’m ready for blood.”
“Well, with any luck it won’t be any of ours,” Will said with an edge of severity. “In and out. We do what we need to do and then we get out without them knowing a thing until we’re gone and they find Senraks dead.”
She smiled. “Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out then.”
Will chuckled but there was no humor in it. “Oh yes. Everything will go according to plan. It always does.”
As if acting on some unknown cue, Will’s key started humming against his chest. Although he knew that no one could sense the sensation but himself, he still became suddenly self-conscious. The humming grew to a near audible level and his entire chest started tingling. From the corner of his eye he saw Cephora stand and race over to the ledge. She cursed suddenly and dropped to the ground, signaling for the rest of them to do so as well. Already prone on the ground, Will pushed himself up enough that he could scramble across the jagged stones and join her at the edge. The electric activity at his chest was forgotten as soon as his eyes crested the top.
Where before there had been only the Wastes, now immense walls stretched thirty feet tall and ranged at least three hundred yards across. Their surface was covered in the same jagged stones that made up the landscape, making the barrier as solid as rock but as dangerous to the touch as shattered glass. There were no watchtowers like those Will would have expected to see on a prison, but rather there were jagged spires that curved this way and that into the night sky. And wherever he looked, lightning rippled across every surface. There was no sign of any gate, no breaks in the stone of any kind. It was a mass of razor-sharp, electric death.
A soft curse from behind him signaled Madigan’s arrival. “We’re going into that?” he said. Cephora smirked and nodded. Madigan cursed again. “Do we have any idea where to go once we’re inside?”
“The creature would have returned to its master’s lair, probably the most secure part of the prison. The high-priority cells, most likely. I suggest you make your way to the center of the lowest subterranean level.”
“Subterranean?” Will blinked.
Cephora eyed him. “It means underground.”
“He knows what it means,” Mad snapped. “We just weren’t expecting it. How far down does it go?”
Cephora turned her stare to Madigan. “Do you not recall our previous conversation where I informed you that no one knows the layout of the prison? That no one has ever escaped or given up its secrets?”
“I remember it,” he said.
“Then why would you ask a question when you’re already aware that I do not know the answer?” Cephora said flatly. Her demeanor had changed with the appearance of the prison. She seemed ill-at-ease, less certain.
“Just testing your own recollective abilities, Cephora,” Will interjected in an effort to keep the conversation light. “Keeping you on your toes is all.”
Madigan snickered briefly as the hot tension eased out of him. Cephora shook her head and went back to studying the terrain leading down toward the walls. Will turned his head back toward Morell
a. She hadn’t moved but merely continued to lie there with her eyes closed and a small smile on her face as she hummed quietly.
“This is gonna be hellish, isn’t it?” Mad said quietly. He smiled and gave Will a light nudge with his elbow. “Thanks for diffusing that, by the way.”
“Not a problem at all,” Will replied. “The diffusing, I mean. This prison looks like it will be quite the problem.”
“Does she know?” Madigan jerked his head toward the still form of Morella.
“Morella? About the prison?” Will said. “Only as much as the rest of us.”
“Not the prison, Will, about you,” Madigan said quietly. “What you are.”
Will stared at him blankly for a moment before he realized what his brother meant. He shook his head. “Of course not.”
Madigan nodded. “That may change soon. Once we get in there…” He broke off and sighed, running his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what we’re going to find. We need to be on our guard and at our best.”
Will grinned. “So, my leash gets to come off, finally?”
“You haven’t been on a…” Madigan’s mouth tightened. “What I’m saying, Will, is that I’d rather you risk exposing your secret than have us spend eternity in a place like that.”
“Relax, Mad.” Will held up a hand to placate his brother before turning his eyes back toward the prison. “I have no intention of letting anything happen to any of us if I can help it.”
Mad nodded and glanced back at Morella. “Is she going to be alright in there?”
Will smiled. “She may end up surprising both of us.”
“I’ll take that as a yes, then,” Madigan said. “Grab whatever gear you need and let’s do this.”
Thumbing his blades, Will surveyed his belongings and, frankly, could not come up with a single item that seemed worth bringing. His cloak, his weapons, and his key were all that would matter once they got inside.
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