Puppet/Master (The Vale Chronicles Book 1)

by Joel Abernathy

  Arden’s heart ached as he got to his feet and he took Vox’s hand, squeezing tight. “It’s okay,” he said, touching the ghoul’s face. “Thank you.” He looked down at the unconscious elf, and as dead as Lavien looked, he knew from the unwanted bond they now shared that he was only sleeping. “He’ll be awake soon. We have to get out of here.”

  Even if Arden had lacked the strength to run on his own behalf after learning of Eric’s betrayal, he wouldn’t allow Vox to die. The Prince would surely have his head once he was awake and realized what had happened.

  “The balcony,” Vox said, looking toward the glass doors across the room. “But I’m not permitted to leave.”

  “You’re supposed to do whatever I tell you, right?”

  The ghoul hesitated, looking down at their clasped hands. “Yes.”

  “Then I’m telling you, we have to run. Now.”

  Chapter 22

  Arden

  After stealing a fresh change of clothes and weapons from Lavien’s closet, Vox was the first to jump down from the balcony and onto the silent street below. Arden hesitated at the two-story drop that wouldn’t have fazed him for an instant in his old life. The ghoul held his arms open and whispered, “Jump. I’ll catch you.”

  Arden took a deep breath and leaped down from the balcony. Sure enough, Vox’s strong arms caught him in the air and the ghoul held him for a moment, as if he didn’t want to let go.

  “Thanks,” Arden murmured. “Um, I don’t suppose you know where to go now?”

  The ghoul finally placed him on his feet and looked around. He nodded and motioned for Arden to follow him down a dark alley. It occurred to Arden that Vox probably wasn’t entirely trustworthy, given the fact that he still didn’t know the extent of the reprogramming the ghoul had been subject to, but the further away he got from Lavien, the better.

  He could still feel the ghoul’s consciousness like bugs crawling under his skin. He wasn’t awake yet, but he was livid, and soon, the hounds would be unleashed.

  Vox grabbed his hand when he didn’t go fast enough and pulled him along through the city’s backstreets. “This is Daimon,” Arden warned. “Every port is closely guarded, and everyone reports back to the Emperor’s family. We’ll never get out. We need to find somewhere to hide.”

  The ghoul hesitated, but he started walking again, toward the glimmering gray water on the horizon. Arden already knew the Emperor’s home was near a shipping port, but he hadn’t expected just how vast the shoreline would be.

  If it wasn’t for the fact that he was surrounded by elves who were eager to do Lavien’s bidding, he might have found the sight of the twin moons glistening in the water’s reflection beautiful.

  “Here,” Vox urged, leading him toward a neighborhood of shipping containers ready to be loaded onto the massive cargo ships docked in the bay.

  “Are you sure it’s empty?” Arden asked warily, looking at the large container Vox seemed intent on leading them to.

  “I’d hear if anyone was close.”

  Arden nodded, following him in. The container was two stories high at least, and every footstep echoed through the tin walls, but there were enough boxes and crates to find a safe hiding spot. It was one of hundreds of identical containers, so the chances of the search party locating them on the first try were slim to none and he was already breathless from running and exhausted from the whole ordeal.

  It was only then that Arden realized Vox must have stopped for him. The ghoul certainly didn’t look any worse for the wear.

  “We’ll just rest for a minute,” Arden assured him.

  Vox sat down against a stack of crates and pulled Arden into his lap before he could protest. “You’re hurt?” he asked, touching the chimera’s neck, as if looking for wounds.

  “No,” Arden said quietly. “Not physically.” The answer seemed to confuse the ghoul, so he added, “I’m okay. Just... a little unsettled. We have to keep moving. I’m pretty sure Lavien can track me.” He hugged himself, shivering. “At least, I can feel him.”

  Vox watched him with a worried gaze, but Arden could tell he didn’t fully understand. It didn’t matter. His actions were proof that at least part of him was still in there, and Arden was going to do whatever he had to do in order to get it back.

  He closed his eyes and buried his face in the ghoul’s neck, breathing in the comforting, dusty scent. At least that hadn’t changed. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he murmured. “Something you’re not going to understand, and I wouldn’t have the courage to tell you if you did.”

  “What is it?” Vox asked, stroking his back.

  Arden closed his eyes. “I love you.”

  The ghoul didn’t answer, and Arden didn’t expect him to. He just needed to say the words out loud because he knew what it felt like to think he’d never get the chance. And one way or another, whether he brought Vox back to himself or died trying, he knew he wouldn’t have the chance to say them again. Surely once the ghoul was himself, he’d hate Arden as much as the others must.

  The only response Vox seemed to be able to give him was to hold him tighter, and that was enough. The physical and emotional exhaustion had taken their toll and Arden slept deeper than he had since he’d been “rescued” and returned to Eric.

  When he opened his eyes, he was back in that familiar realm of crystal and endless sky. The place that felt more like home than anywhere above or below the surface ever had.

  Arden recalled the invitation the Chrysalus had given him and walked forward through the lavender blooms. “Hello?” he called hopefully.

  There was no response at first.

  Arden walked deeper into the flowers, the thorns cutting into his legs. “You said you’d be here,” he called, unable to keep the frustration out of his voice. It was a dream, if not a hallucination. What was he even expecting?

  He heard someone walking behind him and spun around to find himself staring at a mirrored version of himself. The only difference was the faint, ethereal glow on the other being’s skin, as if he was made of the same crystalline substance that composed the rest of the world.

  “Who are you?” he demanded, taking a step back.

  His reflection smiled serenely. “Do you really need to ask that?”

  “The Chrysalus?” he asked, afraid to be wrong.

  It nodded. “I told you that I would be here, and here I am. Or rather, here you are.”

  Arden swallowed hard. “Is this real?”

  “Are you?” it challenged.

  He didn’t know how to respond and he wasn’t in the mood for riddles. “I need help. I have to return to the Vale, or at least find a way to get Vox back there, before the Prince catches us.”

  “Yes,” the Chrysalus mused. “His forces will find you shortly.”

  “So you’ll help us?” he pleaded.

  “I can return you to the Vale,” it said, growing somber. “But there will be a price.”

  Of fucking course there would. Arden clenched his jaw. “What do you want?”

  “You have given access to my power to one who is undeserving,” it explained. “An unfit Master.”

  “It wasn’t like I had a choice,” Arden protested. “What do you want me to do about it?”

  “The bond can only be broken if it is replaced by one stronger,” it explained.

  Arden listened, trying to make sense of its words. “Another Master?” His heart still belonged to Eric, even if the vampire had done nothing but shatter it. He didn’t want the connection he now had with Lavien, but the idea of going through that with another seemed like more torture than he could bear.

  “It must be one who is capable of wielding my power,” it clarified.

  “Another elf?”

  “Or fae. He must bond with you and kill the Prince to break the bond fully,” said the Chrysalus. “Otherwise, I will be unable to return you to the Vale without granting him access.”

  Arden wasn’t sure if the Chrysalus knew of Lavien’s pl
ans to take over the empire, but if it did, that would surely make it even more hesitant to help him. “Alright,” he said stiffly. “I’ll find another Master. I’ll do whatever you ask, but please, just get us out of here.”

  “Very well,” the Chrysalus said, stepping forward. It took Arden’s hand and its touch was shockingly warm, like all the radiance of the sun even though Arden somehow remained unburnt. When the creature leaned in, its lips parted expectantly, Arden recognized the invitation for a kiss and was surprised at how naturally he returned it.

  The moment he opened his eyes, the Chrysalus was gone, and so was the strange world it resided in. He was no longer in Daimon, but he didn’t recognize his current surroundings, either. They were in the middle of a field filled with the kind of green grass that only grew on the surface, stretching on as far as he could see. His panic began to fade when he realized that Vox was next to him and he grasped the ghoul’s hand just to be sure.

  “Where are we?” Vox asked, frowning in confusion as he looked up at the sky. The double moons made Arden’s heart sink and he realized the truth. They weren’t in the Vale at all. They were still on the surface, but where?

  “I don’t know,” he admitted, looking around. “But the next time I see that shiny bastard, it can bite my ass.”

  The ghoul looked at him strangely, but before Arden could clarify his remark, he felt a pang in his chest that sent him to his knees. He couldn’t breathe as he clutched at his chest, desperate to make the pain stop.

  Vox dropped to his knees, grabbing Arden’s shoulders. “Arden! Arden, what’s wrong?”

  The chimera couldn’t answer. All he could do was shake his head. He didn’t know what was happening, only that it was excruciating. It felt as if someone was reaching inside of him and trying to pull his soul out. The rush of energy was familiar, though. Enough to make him realize that it had to be Lavien’s attempt to bring him back through some form of magic or another. The fact that he hadn’t succeeded was a testament to the fact that the Chrysalus had at least somewhat kept its promise.

  Chapter 23

  Arden

  Arden and Vox had only been walking for an hour when they found themselves surrounded by troops armed with long, glowing blades and guns that seemed to be made of crystal. Another sign they were in fae-controlled territory, but the faces staring back at them looked none too friendly.

  Since Vox growled and seemed prepared to fight, Arden quickly raised his hands in surrender. Nearly all the soldiers were fae, and the few who weren’t looked human.

  The leader of the troops issued a command in Prayan, stalking toward them. Arden understood the tone if not the wording and had more reason to hope they were at least within the sanctuary of Praya. Vox growled, but he stayed where he was in front of Arden.

  The fae looked them up and down. He seemed young, even though Arden knew he was probably decades if not centuries older than he was. His pale violet eyes betrayed both fear and confusion. “Evath areh,” he demanded.

  Arden shook his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

  The fae’s expression relaxed into recognition and he began speaking in perfect English with a posh accent only slightly thicker than Dusk’s. “Your crystals. Where are they?”

  “We don’t have them,” Arden said, his hands still in the air. “If you call the Crown Prince, he can vouch for us.”

  “The Crown Prince?” The fae raised an eyebrow and seemed to be trying to figure out whether he was joking. He turned to the others and waved his hand in some sort of signal. With a command Arden didn’t understand, the men spread out to search the tall grasses they had just trekked through.

  “Who are you?” the fae demanded, his weapon still firmly in hand.

  “My name is Arden. I’m a ward of the Brotherhood of Aeon,” he explained, noting the way the fae’s eyes widened at the name drop. The man pulled some sort of wand from his tool belt and waved it over Arden’s neck, but all the device did was produce a steady flow of static. “This is Vox.”

  “Vox?” the fae echoed, looking at the ghoul with renewed curiosity. “Why didn’t he say so?”

  “He’s not himself,” Arden muttered. “Please, just call Prince Dusk and tell him we’re here.”

  The fae hesitated before raising his wrist to his mouth. The screen on the dial facing him lit up in a crystal display. “Echo to North Station, I’ve located the source of the Chrysalus radiation. It’s tapered considerably, but it seems to be coming from the two trespassers. One ghoul identifying as Vox of Aeon and one humanoid being with unnatural Chrysalus signatures who identifies as a ward, but he doesn’t have an implant. Possible chimera. Please instruct.”

  A moment later, the watch issued static. A woman’s stern voice came over the line. “North Station Commander to Echo, requesting visual confirmation of the humanoid.”

  Echo turned the watch toward Arden and he blinked hard at the blinding light. Evidently, the fae had more resistance to it than he did. Scratch the idea of asking Dusk to let him borrow his laptop.

  The fae brought the watch back to his mouth. “Commander?”

  “Visual identity confirmed. Have the trespassers transported to the Queen’s Palace,” the Commander ordered. “Use restraint if necessary, but both the chimera and ghoul must remain intact.”

  Arden gulped. He knew firsthand there was a whole lot of wiggle room between intact and happy.

  “Understood,” Echo said, looking at them with renewed wariness. He pulled a pair of glowing restraints from his belt and jolted when Vox growled again.

  “It’s alright,” Arden said, holding out his hands. “We don’t want any trouble.”

  The Queen wasn’t exactly the first person he wanted to see, and after his first interaction with her, he didn’t trust that she had entirely pure motives of her own, but it was better than standing out in the open. Echo cuffed him and seemed uneasy about it. Arden couldn’t be sure if it was because of the radiation that must have brought them there or because he realized they were who they claimed to be.

  Either way, he wasn’t interested in filing a customer service complaint anytime soon. All he wanted was to get back to the Vale so Dusk and Leo could help Vox.

  Once Vox was restrained, they were loaded into an armored truck that looked more like it should be a snow cone delivery mobile than a military vehicle. The fae really needed to work on their image if they were going to intimidate their counterparts on the surface.

  The palace was as over-the-top as Arden had expected. It had its own skyline of crystal spires on the tallest hill in the countryside, with what Arden assumed was the capital city below. Giant transparent tubes connected the buildings below, while a glimmering emerald bridge allowed the convoy to pass over the stream surrounding the castle.

  The doors to the truck slid open and Arden found himself looking at a woman he could only assume was the commander. She had short blonde hair shaved close at the sides, revealing her long, pointed ears, and when he saw the glowing lines carved into her cheeks, he realized she was no fae.

  “You’re an elf,” he blurted out.

  Her severe mouth quirked up on one side. “And you’re a chimera. We’re both far from home, aren’t we?” she taunted, grabbing him by the arms to hoist him down from the truck like he weighed nothing. Vox snarled, but the Commander silenced him with a look.

  “That’s enough out of you, soldier,” she snapped, looking him up and down. “They told me the legendary Vox had turned up topside, but I’m not very impressed.”

  “He’s not himself,” Arden repeated. “He was… reset.”

  The Commander listened, her expression falling as she studied the ghoul more closely. “I see,” she said in a gruff but not unsympathetic tone. She looked down at Arden’s hands. “You’re not gonna do anything to make us both look dumb, like trying to make a break for it, are ya?”

  “No,” Arden said solemnly. “I just want to get him home.”

  The commander reached out and w
aved her hands over the restraints. The thick ring on her right hand ring finger glowed and the locks released, falling away from Arden’s wrists. She glanced over at Vox. “He can stay cuffed until he has a change in attitude,” she snorted, turning around. “Follow me.”

  Arden walked after her as the other soldiers made way. They all wore some slightly altered version of the same armor, and it seemed to depend on their chosen weapons. The ones who had crossbows and quivers full of glowing arrows strapped to their backs wore lighter hide armor that cut off at the shoulders. The leather was still engraved with beautiful foliage patterns and the royal insignia.

  The Commander herself was wearing a high-collared suit in a splendid shade of dark blue with a golden cutlass at her hip. Arden knew the way fae fought and doubted it was more than decorative, but he wouldn’t have put that to the test, given the muscles bulging from the sleeves of her dress uniform.

  The interior of the castle was as splendid as the exterior with high ceilings of varying heights. The sunlight streaming through the crystal danced over every surface, making Arden think it was a shame that the Vale was so dimly lit in comparison.

  “I take it you’ve never been to Praya before,” the Commander said, glancing back over her shoulder.

  “Never while I was conscious,” said Arden. “The Queen is on the surface?”

  “She spends most of her time here,” the Commander answered. “Easier to attend diplomatic meetings that way.”

  “And she’ll tell the Prince we’re here?” he asked hopefully.

  Her only response was another snort. She stopped in front of an elegant sitting room filled with furniture in a similar style as the Brotherhood’s underground lair. To Arden’s relief, only the base of the couch was made of crystal. The seat itself was upholstered.

  “Wait here,” the Commander ordered, shooting Vox a pointed look. “We’ll be watching.”