She had misjudged; that would not happen again. “They may have been defeated, but they served their purpose,” she commented, eyes intently watching the traitorous orcs wiping out her forces. The treachery behind their act would not go unpunished. She would round up their women and children and sell them into slavery. The trolls loved nothing more than to let others mine the ores she needed, instead of doing it themselves, and would welcome a gift of labor as a reward for keeping faith with her.
“What possible purpose could this serve?” the specter asked, adjusting his translucent armor and focusing on the scenes below. He had been one of the guardians Merlin had put into place to protect the Book of the Dead and had served her after she’d defeated him in battle thousands of years before.
She smirked at the pool below, watching as Pestilence almost fulfilled her purpose, and laughing at the young boy’s anguish over his fallen bride. “A diversion.”
While the battle had waged in those eastern forest, her powers had been in a state of flux. She had not fully been herself when she had emerged into this realm and time had been needed to reach full power again. Now, as she stretched out her arms and waved her fingers over the pool, she felt the entirety of it finally restored. She may have suffered a devastating loss of man power, but it was not something she couldn’t easily replace.
“They thought me dead; I wasn’t. Merlin exiled me to another realm. He was unable to kill me because of the link I share with the book, and he didn’t have what he needed to destroy it. So, the best he could do was strip me of my body and cast me into shadow. After a few hundred years, I slowly recovered and began regaining my strength. It took me a long time to figure out how to counter his magic and make my way back, but I was not idle while I did so. Now that my power is restored, I am going to open a rift into that world, bring forth my armies, and I will set them loose upon this land. What I lost today is just a drop against the waves of forces I will summon forth. There will be no mercy nor quarter given. I will wipe them completely from this Earth and install a new civilization in its place; one that knows its true purpose and will bend knee when I command,” she finished, waving her hand and causing the images to fade to black.
The shade of the former knight winced at her words. “Other armies? What other armies?”
“From a mirror dimension, not unlike this one, but with less—morality issues,” she laughed. “I was able to rule, to subjugate, and mold what I wanted in preparation for my return. They only await my summons.”
Pausing, Liadric had to consider his words carefully. He knew her temper well and had been on the receiving end of her wrath several times before. “If you had all that you wanted there, why come back here?”
She glared at him, sensing something beneath his words other than curiosity, and he appeared ready to witness her rage once more. But she surprised him with a calmer answer. “This is my home. It may not be much, but it is the world that I know, that I grew up in, that I created. That other—is a mere shadow of what I knew, and it never felt right being there. Besides, I have scores to settle.”
When it came right down to it, that was what really mattered; her thirst for vengeance. The longer she stewed over there, the more she brooded about it, the more she wanted to come back and finish off those that had dared to defy her. That they continued existing was enough to push her beyond her limits and force her return. And now that she was here, she would see it through no matter what the cost.
Stop, a voice cried out in the confines of her mind. It was an old voice, one that she had long since thought banished, and it sent a shiver up her spine to hear it once more. It doesn’t have to be like this, the former girl she’d been told her, pleading.
She got up from the pool and gathered her robes about her, glaring at the murky waters of the pool. Yes, it does, she answered back. She walked from the room with a purpose, her loyal lapdog following close behind. She was suddenly glad that he wasn’t aware of the conflict within and pursed her lips in an attempt to keep it that way.
You’re not evil—the book is. Destroy it. Free us from it before it’s too late, the voice insisted.
Bringing forth her hatred, she let it fill her to the core. Every fiber of her being was consumed with her need for vengeance, her eyes flaring red with the amount of power coursing through her. She entered her throne room and stood before the dais on the platform where her throne of skulls waited. Then she sent a silent summons. The Book of the Dead slowly lowered from where it hovered and settled on the dais, the evil within calling out to her with love.
Destroy it, please, the voice begged once more.
She howled in fury, gripping the book and holding it close to her chest. She would protect it, not destroy it. No, she would keep it safe and pursue the destruction of those that dared to oppose her. She would see Excalibur cast into the deepest ocean, it’s protector dead, and the sword forever irretrievable.
That’s the book talking. It’s not you, I am. Listen to me and do what you know is right. It’s not too late.
You forget that you are the one that sought it in the first place, she immediately answered, feeling foolish arguing with herself, but unable to resist. No one. Not a book. Not that meddling magician—nothing—commands—me. I am the one in charge here.
You are naïve, her former self returned.
No, I’m the Phoenix, and it’s time I entered this war and show those imbeciles why I am their Queen. She summoned her magic and exulted in the power filling her body. Go back to oblivion, you have no place here. I will open that rift—I have the power to do so now, and none of those meddling idiots can stop me. When my armies arrive, I will send them south, and one by one the fortresses of this world will fall.”
“They’ve gained little in their victory today. Let them celebrate, for tomorrow dawns a new age, and it will forever eclipse the one these feeble creatures tried to create. They dared to defy me and now they will suffer the consequences. The elf, the human, the orc, and the mage—all will fall and bend the knee or die, she sneered as she opened the book to the pages she needed. She would need to gather some ingredients, but when she was done, the rift would open, and the fate of this world would be forever sealed.
It doesn’t have to end like this, you don’t have to be a monster, the voice said in a fainter tone, echoing across the caverns of her mind.
Oh Honey, we are well passed that, and you are nothing but an echo of a past life. Rachel Emerick is gone forever. I am the Phoenix, risen from the ashes once more, and this world is about to experience my unending fury.
This world—will burn.
To Be Continued…
In Book 3 of the New Age Saga:
Coalescence
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The following is an excerpt from my new novel:
Focal Point
A Slipstream Novel
Chapter 1
I
She stumbled out of the alleyway, her hand applying pressure to her abdomen in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Despite her efforts, she could feel the warm pulse of fluid escaping through her fingers. She couldn’t tell how bad it was, but her limbs were already starting to feel weak, her head fuzzy.
She was short on time.
Of all the ways to go out, this was never even considered a possibility. They had been waiting for her to arrive, the ambush nearly killing her. Only her quick actions and honed reflexes spared her life, but now it looked like they’d get what they wanted anyhow. She was going to die, an echo of a future that no longer existed.
The device on her inner thigh throbbed, m
aking her pulse quicken. “Jennifer, your vitals are dropping. You require medical attention,” a voice spoke up within her mind.
No shit, really? What do you want me to do? Not like I can just go to a hospital. I need options, dammit! There were items in her possession not easily explained, not to mention the nature of the wound. The questions would never be answered to anyone’s liking and if she got separated from Weena—She leaned against the brick wall, pausing briefly to try and catch her breath. Reaching into one of the many pockets in her black trench coat, she withdrew a bottle, fumbled at the top, then quickly slipped a couple of pills into her mouth. She tried to swallow them dry and could feel every inch of progress they made down her dry throat. She closed her eyes and waited a minute, allowing the medicine time to kick in. It was fast acting and would help temporarily increase her stamina. If she was going to do something, this was the time; there may not be another.
“Weena, where the hell am I?” she asked, looking at the darkened world around her, unable to distinguish a period through the architecture; other than it was likely the 21st Century. They were still using halogens on the streetlamps. She pushed herself forward and began heading for the street beyond. She could make an educated guess, but wanted confirmation first.
“Tucson, Arizona. Tuesday, May 24th, 2016. 11:06pm,” Weena told her in a somewhat mechanical fashion. No matter how far artificial intelligence advanced, they still had problems reading a calendar without a slight pause in their voices.
“What am I doing here?” she thundered, more to herself than to anyone else. She didn’t expect an immediate answer and doubted Weena knew any more than she did. Her escape was rather hasty and no planning had gone into her destination, but still—why here? Why now? “Any ideas on what to do next?”
She stopped at the edge of the alley and looked out upon the moonlit night. She was in a residential neighborhood and there was sparse lighting in the homes across from her. The one directly before her was white, a mesquite tree the lone vegetation in the rock covered lawn, and a white and very dirty VW Bug was parked in the driveway. There was a garage door and she wondered why it wasn’t parked inside. Did the person living there have a guest over? The living room light was on, but the porchlight was switched off, a common marker at the times that they weren’t entertaining unexpected guest.
There weren’t many choices, and it was the only real sign of activity. Weena did not answer and she ground her teeth against the pain as she slid a step forward. Maybe they would have some first aid supplies she could borrow until something more permanent could be found. She would have to chance it.
Crossing the street quickly, she approached the door, warily watching for moving shadows through the window; it was still as the night around her. She rang the doorbell, feeling the strength of the pills beginning to wane. Glancing to the right, she saw a darkened home and wondered if she should have tried to break in there instead. It was too late to reconsider; her knees were beginning to wobble and she could pass out any second.
The door opened a crack and she saw a curious eye peer out at her. “I don’t know you. What do you want?”
“Help me,” she moaned as she pitched forward, her hand barely stopping her fall. Another pair of hands grasped her shoulders and for the briefest of seconds she felt relieved. “No hospitals,” she managed, then blacked out.
II
She opened her eyes and was momentarily unaware of where she was. Her head felt foggy and she knew immediately that there were drugs being fed into her. Abruptly, she struggled to a sitting position and scanned her surroundings. There were no drapes, no bed rails, and there was the smell of coffee, not death, on the air. Her sudden relief was short lived, as she felt the absence of the device she always wore around her left thigh.
“Weena, what’s your location?” she asked desperately, praying that she wasn’t out of range. If they were separated, she’d be stranded with very little chance of ever going home.
“Hey, you’re awake,” came a voice from the open doorway across from her. She was in a bedroom, immaculate in appearance, a Phantom of the Opera poster the only decoration adorning the walls. It looked like a room that had been prepared for visitors, but rarely saw any.
“One meter to your left,” Weena replied, her heart thudding with every word.
She glanced at the night stand next to the bed and felt a flood of relief at the sight of the hexagonal device awaiting her immediate attention. It had a titanium-mixed alloy that made it nearly indestructible and other than the retractable band that attached to her leg, was completely devoid of any sign to its purpose.
“Ah yes, I was worried it was for diabetes or something, and wasn’t going to take it off, but the doctor insisted,” came the male voice as a man hovered in the doorway with two steaming cups of coffee. “He says it doesn’t look like an Insulin pump, but he had no clue what else it could be. Your sugar level was a bit low, so I hope you like sugar in your coffee,” he said as he walked into the room and set one down by the device she had been anxiously worried about. He was of average height, with short brown hair, clean shaven, and a pair of humble brown eyes. He wore a gray t-shirt with Trust No1 blazoned across his chest. He also had on a pair of black jeans and by the shape of his hairline, probably wore a hat regularly.
“Doctor?” she managed. Her throat was feeling rough and she began to wonder how long she’d been out. Her hand automatically slid to her side and she felt the taped bandage beneath a white t-shirt she had been put in. It itched and made her grimace, but otherwise, whatever she had been given was working to keep the pain at bay.
The younger man nodded, gesturing for her to take the coffee.
Her hand was already in route and the smell was making her mouth water with anticipation. “Thank you for not taking me to the hospital,” she offered as she took a sip and felt a smile creep across her face. God, how she missed coffee. It was a rare thing to have, especially since it’d been a restricted substance for at least a century, and happened to be one of the perks of her job. Feeling it swarm its way down on her throat, her body reacted instantly and her mind slowly started to become more alert.
Her host grabbed a nearby chair and brought it near her, where it looked to have rested for some time recently. “How could I resist? A beautiful woman shows up on my doorstep needing my help, didn’t think it best to ruin it by calling the cops.”
“Oh, a man that loves to live dangerously,” she commented with a smirk and got a chuckle in response. There was an IV hanging from a podium on her right and her eyes fixated on the fluids being pushed into her right arm.
“Don’t worry, you’ve been in good hands. A buddy of mine is pre-med at Banner University Medical Center. He was more than happy to get free practice working on you, and as a favor to me, promised to keep it quiet,” he explained as he sipped his coffee, then set it down on the night stand. “We could both get in a lot of trouble if it gets out. I’ve taken quite the risk, was it worth it?”
“Do you mean, am I a criminal? Or was that a half-assed attempt at a sexual overture?” she asked and couldn’t help but laugh. There was humor in his eyes, and he blushed a bit, but his mouth was firm; he really was worried. “Nothing like that. Trust me, no one even knows I exist, much less will come looking. And yes, I get it, trust no one, but I have no reason to lie to you.”
He sighed with relief and nodded his head. “That wasn’t a gunshot wound. Aaron says he’s never seen anything like it. Almost like an industrial burn, but not quite. He got the bleeding under control and stitched you up. He says without knowing the nature of the injury, he can’t make any promises, but that with your stabilized vitals you should be okay.”
Her mind was racing the entire time he was talking. She couldn’t tell him how she got hurt, and a reasonable explanation wasn’t forthcoming. She was out or practice talking to people. She had been on her own for so long, she couldn’t help but feel awkward under his intense gaze. She reached up and pushed back her lon
g black hair, a finger sliding her bangs behind her ears as she turned her ice blue eyes in his direction and met his. “I can’t tell you how it happened. You wouldn’t believe me if I tried,” she finally offered, unable to formulate anything to explain the plasma burn she had suffered.
He was wrong, it had been a gunshot, just by a weapon that he would hardly understand. She set down her coffee cup and reached for Weena, intent on reattaching her to her thigh. She was wearing a thin pair of sweatpants, and she saw the younger man blush when it occurred to her that he must have changed her clothing.
He coughed. “They were covered in blood, I burned them in case they were evidence of anything,” he told her, eyes flickering away. “Except for your coat that is. Must be murder wearing that in the Arizona desert. It’s about to get hotter than shit soon enough, you could bake an egg on a car hood come mid-day.”
She couldn’t help but grin. “Hopefully not on the hood of that VW out there.”
He broke into a quick fit of laughter as he waved her off. “Not mine. Ex-girlfriend left it when we split, hasn’t come back for it yet. Personally, I hate the things. Make me claustrophobic.”
“Well, since you’ve seen me naked now, can I at least get your name? I mean, you haven’t even bought me dinner yet.”
The young man’s cheeks flushed with so much blood it was astonishing he had enough to keep his heart pumping. “Blake,” he told her with a sheepish grin. “You know, we can fix that. I can take you out to dinner when you’re up to going out again. And you weren’t totally naked, I never touched your underwear, I promise.”
“So chivalrous!” she laughed while sliding her pants down, then went to work reattaching Weena to her accustomed place on her thigh. She could see her trench coat hanging on a rack behind the door and wondered if he had tried to go through her pockets. He wouldn’t have found anything, only her hands could retrieve the items she had hidden within.
The New Age Saga Box Set Page 92