A Sea of Broken Glass

by Sonya M Black

  She was right. Michel could hardly stand, let alone protect Ris. He tripped into the next room, stripped, and climbed into the bed. Between one breath and the next, he was asleep.

  ***

  “How is she?” Michel peered around the doorframe. Emmy stood at Ris’s bedside, her hand held over the unconscious woman. A faint orange glow covered Emmy’s hand and filled Michel’s mind with the warm, brassy notes of a trumpet.

  “Shh.” Emmy lowered her hands and bustled him out of the room. “She needs rest and lots of it. There’s more than burnout going on. Her magic is at war with itself.”

  “What do you mean?” Worry for Ris warred with the need for answers. Reluctantly, Michel followed Emmy down the stairs to the kitchen. The small, brightly lit room with its large wooden table and flowered wallpaper reminded him of home. Michel pushed down the knot of guilt that squeezed his chest.

  “Stop it,” Emmy chided.

  “What?”

  She pointed to a chair at the table, and Michel sat. “Stop beating yourself up over Ollie’s death. He wouldn’t want it.”

  “But—”

  “No, I won’t allow it. Ollie loved you like a brother. I blame the Bastion for his death, not you.”

  “But—”

  Emmy patted his shoulder. “You’re probably starving.”

  Michel traced the grain of the table. “I am sorry.”

  Emmy froze, half-stooped to grab a pan from under the counter. She stood slowly and set it carefully on the stove. “You didn’t come to Ollie’s funeral and haven’t visited since his death. You’re punishing yourself.” The words held no spite, no anger. Only sorrow and loneliness. She wiped her hands on a towel and pulled eggs from the cold-box. “You like your eggs scrambled, if I remember right.”

  Michel swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yes.”

  Emmy busied herself with making food. “Now, I was about to tell you about my newest patient.”

  “You said her magic is at war with itself.”

  Emmy nodded. “She’s a healer, but she also possesses water magic, and has the potential to use earth and air.”

  Michel schooled his expression and prayed that Emmy didn’t put the pieces of Ris’s heritage together.

  “Only the Lady’s progeny have the ability to use more than one kind of magic.” Emmy gave him a pointed look.

  So much for that hope. Emmy had always been sharp. Michel sighed. “You can’t say a word to anyone.”

  Emmy waved him off. “Of course not. The magic was unlocked rather forcefully, from what I can tell. Coupled with near burnout and exposure, it means she’s very ill. I’ve done what I can to heal the burnout and exposure, but the rest is up to her. Her body needs to get used to the new magic, or it could kill her.”

  “Kill her?” His gut twisted at Emmy’s words.

  “She’s not out of the woods, but have faith. She’s a fighter.”

  Michel’s chest eased a little. He might not know Ris well, but Emmy was right. Ris was a fighter. That much was obvious.

  “I’m her Sword,” Michel blurted.

  Emmy offered him a wry smile. “As if I couldn’t tell. How long has it been since the last bond?”

  “A hundred and twenty-three years.”

  “You never forget, do you?”

  Michel shook his head. “Without the Heart ….”

  “Ah, dearest.” Emmy joined him at the table and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I still wake up sometimes and reach for Ollie. It doesn’t go away. Just gets less raw.”

  Michel leaned into her warmth. “Ris is different. The bond is stronger than any of the others I’ve had.”

  “How long have you been bonded?”

  “A day.”

  “Lady, help us.” Emmy laughed. “Well, dearest, you’re in for an adventure.”

  Michel nodded. “Bran didn’t tell me much about who she was, just asked me to get her to safety.”

  “And your magic decided you needed to be her Sword.” Emmy returned to the stove. “She’s got a Cloak and a Shield, too. Makes sense, considering who and what she is.”

  “Is she really going to be all right?”

  “I think so. She’s got a tough spirit. A bit battered, but tough.”

  Michel snorted. He related the little he knew of Ris and her circumstances. Emmy always had good advice. She might steer him toward an answer. “You’re harboring a fugitive, you know.”

  Emmy scooped the contents of the pan onto a plate and set it in front of Michel. “This isn’t the first time the Bastion overstepped their bounds, and it won’t be the last.”

  “Have you heard anything noteworthy?” Michel took a bite of the steaming food.

  “The laws coming out of the Bastion make little sense. People are worried.”

  “What laws?”

  “Charms are dark magic, and any healer caught selling or making them will be convicted of witchery.”

  “That’s how Tolbert did it.” Michel set his fork down. “But, how did he convince the Council to pass that law?”

  “No idea. The Council has no jurisdiction over healers. I’m surprised the Healers Guild didn’t riot.”

  Michel scratched at the stubble on his chin. “How far up does this go?”

  “Far enough. Be careful, dearest. The paladins are no longer what they once were.”

  Michel finished his breakfast. “Would you mind if I sat with Ris?”

  “Lady, help me, but you’ve developed some manners,” Emmy teased. “I would never stand between a Sword and their bonded.”

  Michel kissed her cheek. “Thank you. For everything.”

  Her lips pressed together. She squeezed his hand before picking up his plate and walking toward the sink.

  Michel climbed the stairs, his thoughts churning over their conversation. After Oliver’s death, he’d barely spent time at the Bastion, preferring to hunt demons on his own. Llyr had understood. Sending him reports and giving him the freedom to act.

  Bran’s call for help was the first time in years that Michel had worked with another paladin, let alone a Lord of Light.

  “The paladins aren’t what they once were,” Michel muttered. The words had never held more truth.

  After the Lady’s fall, the few remaining paladins and the Lords of Light had created the Bastion. Modern paladins could access magic but didn’t have immortality. The Heart of Creation bound the oaths they made to the Light into their souls, making them resistant to the taint of the Darkness. Without it, the Darkness spread through the world unchecked and even the most faithful of paladins were at risk of corruption.

  With only six remaining original paladins and three Lords of Light, the old ways had become inconvenient and obsolete. How many of his current problems were the result of paladins grasping for power because they had sworn their oaths in word only?

  Gwilam would say Darkness grows in the absence of Light and Ris’s predicament made that clear. Would Tolbert have tortured her if he had taken his oaths on the Heart? Would she be hunted by demons and worse if the paladins had been able to withstand the Lady’s curse?

  Michel sat at Ris’s bedside, watching the slow rise and fall of her breathing. Her face was pale and deep shadows marred the skin beneath her eyes. He curled his fingers into fists.

  Lady, help her. Give her the strength to recover, he prayed.

  08

  In my pride, I believed he would give me everything I longed for. He would end my loneliness and deliver balance to the world. I must find a way to end this nightmare. My curse will bring ruin and war, plague and shadow.

  ~Excerpt from “The Lady and the Darkness” as translated by Sir Gwilam Cavanaugh

  Searing, blinding heat scorched my skin. I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound escaped. Flame surrounded me, licking my feet and ankles with hungry tongues. Ropes held me tight against a wooden frame. I pulled against them, tugging until my wrists bled. Smoke filled my
nose and lungs, choking me. I was drowning in fire and fear.

  It wasn’t real. This couldn’t be happening.

  A chorus of voices, whisper soft, tickled my mind.

  Witch, they taunted.

  Witch. Witch. Witch.

  Burn, they mocked.

  Burn. Burn. Burn.

  In spite of the heat, I shivered as icy fingers of dread crawled over me. The flames grew larger, filling my vision until all I saw was orange and red. The scent of cooking flesh forced me to gag, but my throat, raw from the smoke, refused to let me retch. Minutes passed. Hours. Days. I didn’t know. All I knew was heat and flames.

  Pain and panic.

  Voices and ruin.

  After an eternity, the whispers grew silent. The flames stilled and extinguished. Pain diminished. I floated free of my bonds, in a calm sea of light. Was I dead?

  No.

  “This is a dream,” I muttered.

  The light grew brighter until tears leaked from my eyes. I squeezed them tight, trying to block out the brilliant rays, but it bled through my eyelids and turned everything red.

  Marissa.

  Wind caressed my face with a feather touch.

  Look at me.

  “It’s too bright.”

  The light dimmed. Hesitantly, I opened my eyes. A lady stood on a green hill. An orange and purple sunrise stretched across the horizon, painting the sky behind her. The loose sleeves of her gown caught in a summer breeze that carried a hint of jasmine. Tiny crystals stitched onto the white fabric of her dress glittered in the morning light.

  “Where am I?”

  The path of dreams. The woman’s mouth didn’t move. Her voice echoed in my head like the voices from before.

  The path of dreams was Between. A dangerous place for me. The Darkness stalked it. Fear curdled my stomach and rose into my throat. How had I gotten here?

  “Who are you?”

  You already know.

  My knees wanted to buckle as recognition took hold. I’d seen her face a million times. On the bust above the door in the courtroom, at the Chapel of Light, at the roadside shrines that dotted the countryside. A reminder of how easily even a goddess could succumb to the Darkness.

  You must find the Heart.

  A crystal the size of my fist appeared and hovered in the air between us. White flames filled the gem. Images flashed in my mind. Worlds formed, stars birthed, universes spun from nothing and destroyed in a blink of an eye. The power contained in the Heart was that of creation or destruction.

  The Darkness must not find it.

  The gentle, rolling hills shifted and became an endless sea of black sand and broken glass. Bodies littered the empty landscape, piles of corpses, with vacant eyes and gaping mouths. The wind carried voices gibbering with madness and hunger, and the stench of carrion permeated everything. Bile filled my mouth at the horrific sight.

  This is what will happen should the Darkness use the Heart.

  The sky behind the Lady blackened and boiled. Sunlight faded, and fog made from shadow rolled along the sand, devouring everything it touched. Ochre-colored lightning streaked across the clouds. Desperate to keep the mist from touching me, I reached for my magic, but it slipped and slithered away. I wouldn’t let the Darkness come near me. I had no desire to turn into something worse than Ruin.

  Restore the balance, the Lady said, or the Darkness will consume the world.

  The Darkness surrounded the Lady, crawling up her legs with greedy tendrils. I backed away as it swallowed her, absorbed into her skin, and changed her into a husk. She reached for me with a gnarled hand. Shadows twisted and writhed under skin stretched gaunt over withered bones.

  I turned to run, to get away, but was once again bound to a frame of wood. She stroked my cheek with a knobby finger. Darkness filled her eyes, making them endless pools of shadow.

  What a lovely vessel you will make.

  I grabbed hold of my magic, found the tether that bound me to my body and fled the dream. Her cackle followed me into the waking world.

  ***

  I bolted upright, a scream caught in my throat. My heart beat an irregular rhythm. I gasped for breath, frantic to determine if I’d made it back.

  “How do you feel?” Michel sat on the edge of the bed and took hold of my hands. His dark curls slipped from their tie, and fatigue filled his amber eyes.

  I shook my head, unable to frame words. Soothing water magic flowed through the bond and relieved the scorched places in my mind. It wasn’t a healing, simply an exchange of magic, but it created a feeling of euphoria so intense that I gasped and pulled my hands gently away so as not to lose my sense of self.

  Slowly, the weight in my chest eased, and I gathered my thoughts as I took in my surroundings.

  Sunlight streamed through lacy curtains and wove dappled shadows on the white counterpane. Buttery yellow paper painted with green vines covered the walls. It felt like home. Not mine. But someone’s.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  “We’re staying with a friend.” Michel laid a hand against my forehead and then my cheek. “You really had me scared. I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.”

  I shook my head to clear the cobwebs left behind by my dream of fire and shadow. “What happened after we jumped off the train?”

  His forehead furrowed. “You don’t remember?”

  I rubbed at my temples, my memories a jumbled mess. A fight on a beach with demons. Blood on a linen shirt. A woman made of blue light. “I… Maybe? Aris did something to me.”

  “Do you remember what?” He once again took my hands, and I welcomed the touch as the memory of what happened turned my insides to ice.

  The image of the fiery crystal lingered. The Heart. I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I hesitated, not sure if Michel would think I was crazy. “Aris gave me her memories.”

  I told him about the impossible things I remembered. A golden city and people I’d never met. Dancing in a moonlit garden with Bran. Patrols through villages I’d never been to. A wedding. A beloved twin sister.

  Michel sat silently, his jaw tight, but his eyes full of a sorrow so deep I thought I might drown in it.

  “You’re describing the Lady’s city,” he said when I finished. “Aris was a Lord of Light. Her twin, Lissa, died when the Lady’s curse touched her.”

  “Aris was married to Bran,” I whispered. “I never knew he had a wife.”

  Michel shrugged. “They got married about two hundred years before the Lady’s fall. It’s been around three hundred years or so since Aris was tainted and became Ruin. That was about fifty years after the Lady cast her curse.”

  A hazy image swam to the surface of my mind. Hands, digging in black sand. Fingernails, broken and bloodied. Hopelessness. Heartache. Pain. Darkness.

  The recollections coalesced into understanding. It was all there in the memories Aris had given me. The Darkness had waited until she was at her lowest before it overwhelmed her. It consumed her Light and changed her into Ruin. Her fate would be mine if I didn’t do something to stop it. I refused to become like her.

  “She was searching for the Heart.” I grabbed Michel’s arm and gave him a little shake. “The Darkness wants it.”

  “What are you talking about?” He took my hand and squeezed it, concern and fear mixing on his face.

  I told him about the dream. About the Lady and her warning. An urgency drove me to take action. My heart thudded against my ribs as if I ran from demons even though I sat safely in bed. “I have to find the Heart before the Darkness does.”

  “You can’t trust what the Lady or Aris told you. They have been tainted for a long time.” Michel let go of my hand and walked to the window. He pulled the curtain back and peered out. His voice was a quiet rumble when he finally spoke, and I strained to hear the words. “There was a village on the outskirts of the Western Wilds. Galver, it was called. Mostly farmers. We got word that demons were massin
g in the area. By the time we got there, every one of the villagers was dead.”

  I knew the place Michel spoke of. Not because I had been there, but because Aris had. Memories surfaced. Violent, evil memories that weren’t mine. Bodies lined up, on their knees, bowed in submission. Flesh flayed from bone. Flies and carrion flocking to the stench of congealed blood. I choked back bile.

  “She killed them,” I whispered.

  Michel released the curtain and turned toward me. “The Darkness corrupted her. You can’t trust what she says.”

  “This isn’t just about Aris. The dream—”

  “Could have been sent by the Darkness.” Michel crossed his arms.

  “I spoke with the Lady. She told me—”

  “The path of dreams is dangerous.”

  “I know that.” I took a deep breath to calm myself. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been there, in a dream like that.” I wasn’t sure I trusted the Lady any more than Michel did, but I couldn’t deny the need to find the Heart. “Please, help me do this. I refuse to let the Darkness win.”

  A muscle in Michel’s jaw twitched. “It’s too dangerous. The Heart was lost in the Bonelands. No one who goes there returns.”

  “I need to find it.” My fingers bunched the covers reflexively as the urge to jump from the bed and dash out the door rode me.

  “Why are you so sure about this?” Michel asked.

  “I…” I shook my head. The vision of corpses piled around me, the Darkness creeping across the land was so real that the scent of decaying flesh filled my nose and mouth. I wished I could show him. Wished that I could make him see what I had experienced. It had been so real. Deep down I knew it was a vision of what would come.

  “I can’t let you run blindly into danger, Ris. Give me a solid reason, and I will fight alongside you every step of the way.”

  I pressed my lips together, unable to give him a reason that he could accept. Only the dream, Aris’s memories, and a deep, burning feeling that finding the Heart was right.

  “Then we’ll continue on to Raven’s Keep.” Michel stood and walked to the door, opening it. He gave me a tight-lipped smile before quietly closing the door behind him.