“Relax, my sweet Lord of Light. Fighting only makes it more painful.”
Bran ignored the Darkness and tried to summon his magic. Attempted to touch his bond with Ris. Nothing worked. Nothing helped. The Darkness held him tight, whispering soft words of misery. It wrapped thorny vines around his heart as it injected venomous thoughts into his mind.
Destruction. Death. Despair.
These became his mantra.
“You will find her.”
No.
His soul rebelled against the order. The thorns tightened. Pain washed his vision in blood.
No.
The barbs squeezed harder. Tighter. Tighter.
No.
The barrier that contained the main portion of the curse shattered, and its poison flooded through him. His heart clenched painfully. Why had he ignored the Lady’s warning?
“You will take the Heart from her.”
No.
The curse seeped into Bran’s soul, erasing his resistance. Pain ripped through him and his back arched against it.
Yes.
“You will kill her once you have the Heart.’’
Bran quavered at the order.
He didn’t want to. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
The Darkness stretched out a hand, stroking Bran’s face with a feather-light caress. “You cannot resist.”
No.
“You will wake and forget this dream, but you will obey my orders.”
Yes.
Despair choked Bran, but the emotion was strangled by the vines around his heart.
“Wake, my sweet Lord of Light.”
White filled Bran’s vision, and he floated in a sea of fog while his poisoned spirit returned to his body.
***
Bran opened his eyes and blinked. Early morning light streamed in from the entrance of the abandoned mine, causing the dust in the air to glitter. Panic caused Bran's heart to gallop as he sat up and looked around. He pushed a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. It felt as if he’d forgotten something vital.
“You okay?” Cre asked, his voice gravelly.
Bran pressed a hand to his chest, a weak attempt to calm his pounding heart. “Yeah, must’ve been a bad dream.”
Cre groaned and touched his wound.
“How are you feeling?” Bran dug out some trail bread that he’d scavenged from a group of paladins and passed it to Cre.
“Sore, but no worse than yesterday.” Cre grimaced as he bit into the hard bread. “Light, you could pound nails with this stuff.”
“Are you well enough to move on?”
“I’ll have to be.” Cre rolled his injured shoulder, wincing as he did. “We can’t stay here much longer without being discovered.”
Bran nodded. A vague unease tickled the back of his mind. He opened his senses and searched for signs of demons. Nothing.
A whisper from deep inside rose to the surface. Leave him.
Bran pressed a hand to his head as pain ricocheted around his skull. “Maybe you should find a way back to the Bastion. Find a healer. That wound will only slow us down.”
Cre’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s this coming from?”
“What do you mean?” Restlessness wormed its way through Bran and the need to move itched across his skin.
“You aren’t acting like yourself,” Cre said, warily.
Leave him.
The sense of unease increased. Bran tapped his fingers against his leg. He pushed his senses further than before, searching for the source of his discomfort.
There had to be a demon out there.
“What’s wrong?” Cre asked.
A drumbeat thudded in Bran's mind, an echo of his heartbeat. He ignored it and continued his search. Still nothing. “I’m sensing something, but I’m not sure where it is.”
“Then we should leave before whatever it is finds us,” Cre replied.
Leave him.
“You shouldn’t be moving yet.” Bran stood and walked to the entrance of the mine. “I’m going to scout around and see what’s out there.”
“Hang on, Bran—”
“Stay here and rest.” Bran shifted into his raven form and lifted into the sky. The itch under his skin lessened the further away from the mine he flew.
Find her.
Yes. He needed to find Ris. To protect her. He turned south, following the pull of the bond.
Take the Heart from her.
Ris would find the Heart. He knew she would. How could she not? She was descended from the Lady. The Heart would call to her.
Kill her.
Bran stretched his wings and rode the wind. He would find Ris and kill her.
20
Aeron stared in horror at the Bonelands. As if someone drew a line, the scree-covered hills turned into an endless desert. He hadn’t been back since the curse had been unleashed. Couldn’t bear to see the destruction. The once rolling green hills had become a desolate wasteland filled with nothing but black sand. It flowed in rippling waves, covered by shattered black glass that crunched underfoot. A reminder of the curse and how unfettered magic could destroy everything it touched.
He rode forward reluctantly, questioning his own sanity for letting Ris come to the blighted place.
“How are we going to find the Heart in this?” Ris asked.
Michel shook his head. “I’m guessing it’s still in her city.”
Aeron scanned the horizon. “Is anything left?” Heat made the air distort the land so that it appeared to bend and dance.
“Even if the city is gone, the Heart will still be there,” Michel answered.
Aeron shrugged. Michel was right. If the Heart had been destroyed, then the world would no longer exist. “We should head southeast. That will get us closer to where the city would have been. Maybe we’ll find a clue the further we go.”
No one objected. They rode in silence, the heat sapping the energy required for conversing. Sweat soaked through Aeron’s shirt and pants. He wrapped a damp cloth around his head in a pathetic attempt to cool himself.
The shimmer in the air had him constantly searching for things that appeared in the corner of his eye. When he turned to look, it was nothing more than heat rising from the sand. Wind whispered across the land and blew grit in his eyes and mouth, adding to the discomfort.
Ris pulled a piece of fabric over her mouth and nose, and Michel wrapped a cloth around his head. The heat grew more intense as the sun reached its zenith. With no trees to give shade, the land turned into an oven.
“Maybe we should travel at night,” Ris suggested. “It’d be cooler than this.”
“True, but we wouldn’t be able to see any landmarks.” Michel turned in the saddle to look at Aeron. “What do you think?”
“It was Ris’s idea to come here. Let her decide.” Aeron tried to keep the irritation out of his voice but knew he failed when Ris pressed her lips together.
“Let’s get further in. We can talk about it when we stop for the night.” She rode ahead, her back stiff.
Light, he was going to pay for that comment. He felt bad. A promise was a promise. He regretted giving it, but that didn’t mean he should take it out on her.
He caught a glimpse of red in the corner of his eye and turned.
Nothing there.
Void take it, the place was cursed. Aeron followed Ris, his head swiveling back and forth as he continued to catch odd glimpses of things that proved to be nothing.
Hours passed, and the sun slid slowly toward the horizon. The wind picked up and carried odd sounds. A bit of laughter. The low hum of an overheard conversation. A death scream.
“Are you hearing it, too?” Ris asked.
Aeron jerked in the saddle, startled by her sudden appearance. “Hearing what?”
“The voices on the wind.”
He blinked. “Yeah.”
Ris stared at her hands. “I’m sorry.”
�
��For what, imp?”
“For dragging you out here.”
Aeron reached across and ruffled her hair. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t let you do this alone.”
Ris nodded once before riding ahead to join Michel.
Aeron watched the pair dance around their growing feelings and worried for them. The magic of opposites was a powerful force, and even though he felt there was more to their attraction, it still worried him. Those caught up in that kind of magical euphoria never walked away unscathed.
“She’s just like me.”
Aeron looked around for the woman who’d spoken, but there was no one there. “It’s just the wind.”
He shook off the sense of being watched and scanned the horizon. Nothing.
“Just like me.”
A flash of red in the corner of his eye turned into a familiar face. One he hadn’t seen in hundreds of years. One that made him stop riding because he knew it couldn’t be real. Her auburn hair hung in a braid down to her waist, and her emerald eyes flashed knowingly. She wore the dress he’d last seen her alive in. The one he’d scrounged for months to buy.
“She’s just like me.” Addie’s smile turned into a grimace. Blood poured from her mouth, and she gripped a gaping hole in her stomach. “Just like me.”
Aeron pressed a hand to his mouth and turned away from the vision. His body shook as memory assaulted him. His sister had been a sickly thing, always needing medicine and the healer. Every aran that he stole went toward keeping Addie alive.
“Did you enjoy it?” Addie asked coyly. “When I died, did you celebrate your freedom?”
A lump formed in Aeron’s throat. He refused to respond to the apparition. He hadn’t celebrated. He’d been framed for her murder and sentenced to die.
“Hey, fox-face, we’re stopping for the night.”
Reality reasserted itself. Ris rode next to him, her expression concerned.
“Hey, you okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine.” He looked around and realized it didn’t matter where they stopped. Everything was exactly the same. There were no hills for shelter. No trees or water. Emptiness surrounded them. The same emptiness that filled his heart.
He dismounted and helped Michel and Ris set up camp. They built a fire to cook their food but put it out as soon as they were done. The Bonelands were too open. Even a small fire and its smoke would give away their position.
Not that he believed anyone was stupid enough to follow them into the wasteland.
“Have either of you seen anything?” he asked.
Michel and Ris shared a look. One that said they’d had this conversation already.
Ris pushed the beans on her plate around with the spoon. “I’ve been catching glimpses out of the corner of my eye of someone, but when I look there’s no one there.”
“Who are you seeing?” Maybe she saw Addie as well.
“I keep thinking it’s my father,” she replied, “but there’s no way he’s out here.”
“I’ve been seeing Ollie.” Michel stared out at the sands. “It’s the curse. Everything here is tainted. Even the air.”
“We should get a couple hours of sleep and then move on.” Aeron took a bite of beans and grimaced. He hated beans. “Maybe if we ride during the night, the visions won’t bother us as much.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Michel said.
“I’ll take first watch,” Aeron offered. As tired as he was, he doubted he’d be able to sleep. The image of his sister covered in blood lingered in his mind.
Ris finished her food and after cleaning her plate and utensils curled up on her bedroll. Michel followed suit a few minutes later, leaving Aeron alone to stare at the stars.
“You’re a curse on those you love,” his sister whispered in his ear. He shuddered at the sensation of fingertips brushing his neck. “Did you enjoy it? The feel of blood on your hands as you pushed the knife in?”
Aeron closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, counting his heartbeats.
“Did their screams excite you?”
He pressed his hands over his ears. Shook his head to clear it of the painful memories. He’d locked them in the dusty depths of his mind but with her words they threatened to return. He pushed them back. Sealed them away. His greatest shame. His darkest secret.
“Did their pleas for mercy make you hate them all the more?”
Yes, they had. Yes, Aeron had enjoyed killing Gravin and his cronies. Revenge had been sweet but had quickly turned sour when he realized what he could lose.
The Lady had known Aeron hadn’t killed his sister. She’d pardoned him and given him a place amongst her paladins. But, Aeron, being young and stupid, had slipped away and gotten revenge on the men who had tortured and killed his beloved Addie. He had given them the same treatment that they had given his sister. Wound for wound.
They had disappeared without a trace. No evidence of their deaths or that Aeron had been the one to end their lives had ever been found. Or so he’d thought. Somehow, the Voice had dug it up.
The Lady had forgiven his indiscretion when he’d returned and ordered him never to speak of it to anyone. The guilt of it had eaten at him. He’d betrayed her, let the Darkness rule his actions, but she still had allowed him to swear his oaths to her.
A weight pressed against his chest. A vast hole that could never be filled. He had never been worthy to serve the Lady. He’d always carry the taint of Darkness with him. Even after the Heart burned away any sign of corruption as he swore his oaths to the Light, he still carried that seed of sin deep inside.
Tears edged his vision, and he quickly wiped them away. He shouldn’t dwell on the past. It only gave more fuel to the corruption that surrounded them.
“It won’t work. You can’t protect her.”
Aeron ignored the voice. It wasn’t really his sister. It was a manifestation of his guilt and the taint around him.
“You’ll fail, and she will die screaming, like I did.”
Addie stood in front of him once again covered in blood. He closed his eyes against the horrific sight. She laughed. Ghostly hands cupped his cheeks. He pressed his palms into his eyes. He wouldn’t look.
“She’s just like me,” his sister murmured in his ear. “Just like me.”
21
I have failed! Two more vessels have succumbed to the Darkness. They are foul creatures who poison the ground they touch and the air they breathe. My power slips away from me like sand in a never-ending tide. It is all I can do to cage the corrupted vessels. The Darkness will soon break my bindings on them, and they will create havoc and speed my creation’s destruction.
~Excerpt from “The Lady and the Darkness” as translated by Sir Gwilam Cavanaugh
Four days had passed since we’d left Bedford Mines, and one day since we’d entered the Bonelands. Dawn blushed along the horizon. After a few hours of sleep, we’d traveled through the night, hoping that darkness would hide the disturbing images that plagued us. Pale moonlight had given enough light to see by but the visions continued unabated.
Aris’s memories imposed themselves over the bleak landscape. The shattered glass plains became gentle, green hills covered in wildflowers, but the darker present bled through, creating a mish-mash of detail that confused my senses and made me want to cover my ears and close my eyes.
My father appeared and disappeared. His image hazy and wavering. One minute, he looked healthy and whole, then he would shift and shadow would infect his soul until he became a demon.
The Inquisitor whispered in my ear, his breath brushing my skin like a lover’s, as he recounted the hours of torture in exquisite detail. I itched where ghostly fingers touched as he traced the lines his knives had made while he’d questioned me.
“What will happen when you find the Heart?” His sly whisper called up memories I wished buried and forgotten. “Will you become a goddess of Darkness or Light?”
I didn’t wa
nt to be either. I only wanted to put a stop to the endless nightmare of being chased.
“You’re the last vessel,” he sneered. “So what will you hold?”
His words ignited the doubt that had plagued me my whole life. What would I become if I gave myself to the Lady? Would she fill me with her Light? Or would I end up like Ruin?
I pushed my doubts aside. It was too late to worry over it. I couldn’t turn back.
The wind blew unfettered across the shattered black sea of glass. It carried voices from the past, and screams of agony, as well as cries of joy reverberated in my mind. I flinched at the sounds. The mixed scent of wilted flowers and ice tickled my nose, but beneath that, another aroma hinted at death. I wanted to run back to the precarious safety of the Copper Hills.
“Leave,” the voices on the wind screamed, followed quickly by the softer whisper, “come to us.” My head spun with the dizzying shift between one and the other.
Magic burned in the air. A noxious song with razored notes that warped the music, twisting it into something barely recognizable. I shook my head to clear it. I needed to focus on the moment, not live in the past.
The strangeness of the place worried me more than I cared to admit. After my dream of the Darkness, I felt like I was running out of time. I needed to find the Heart.
The likeliest location was the place where the Lady cast her curse, but that was buried beneath the sands along with all the roads that led to it. Without something more concrete than my hunch to guide us, the search might prove fruitless. Perhaps the Lady would show us the way. I doubted it, but clung to every bit of hope I could muster.
The sun rose and with it, the temperature.
“We should stop and sleep.” The words barely made it past the dryness of my mouth. I hadn’t had a drink for a least an hour and was parched. We had to conserve water as much as possible or our rations would run out.
“We’re being followed and they’re getting closer.” Michel pointed to a dark smear against the black landscape. The heat haze shimmered across the land, distorting and warping the horizon. It disguised the distance between us and our pursuers. Yips and barks carried by the wind warned that it was ghouls or demons, but they could be miles away or right on top of us.
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