Ruk glared. “Only once, and I don’t want to talk about it.” He shrugged. “But, fine, I accept Sen’s nomination. She is agreeable, if a tad annoying with her dreamy tone.” Although he sounded irritated, I had to say his reaction soothed me more than worried me.
“Perhaps Xiu will erase the memories of the loss for you, if it’s so humiliating,” Sen said, gloating.
Her teasing made me freeze for a minute. Wait a minute. If the arbiters had the ability to erase memories, why had they been so stubborn about letting us leave in the first place? Couldn’t they have just enforced the Mandate of Secrecy by using this power? I kept my mouth shut, watching Ruk and Sen trade barbs back and forth while Xiu waited patiently for them to finish. I worried that if I asked, the arbiters might get a worse idea about memory erasure… or perhaps they were already planning on it.
They might try to erase all of our memories of the Higher Plane, once this was over.
“Everyone, send in your verdicts on Sen’s nomination,” Xiu said simply. We waited a beat. “It is decided. Sen shall accompany you to the lower planes. She has been judged capable and impartial enough to serve in this capacity.”
Sen brought her hands together with the restrained excitement of an arbiter. “Excellent.”
“On to the next order of business.” Xiu studied Dorian and me. “We will look into the lower planes in order to help you determine the best plan to attack the Immortal Council. Now, where exactly do you suggest that we look in the Immortal Plane?”
Everything had happened so fast, from the arbiters’ decision to separate Dorian and me, to the possibility of taking our memories of the Higher Plane entirely. The feelings I was fighting so hard to process needed to be set aside for the moment. Life had handed me its cards. Now, I had to play them.
3
Lyra
The prospect of seeing into the Immortal Plane emboldened me. Finally. Zach’s agonized face on the window from the Games haunted the back of my mind as Un led us to a private laboratory.
Our numbers had thinned. Only the strongest and most interested arbiters joined us. Most were content to return to their estates until summoned to deal with the vortex tear. I surveyed the remaining arbiters. Xiu, Sen, Pik, Un, Krysh, the one known as Fiz, and a few whose names I hadn’t caught. Most were in human forms, save two who floated as balls of green and red light, respectively.
“This should do,” Un said as he threw open the double doors. He was being helpful, even if he wore a begrudging scowl. Black stones, matching the outside of his estate, formed a large rectangular room. A small window overlooked his manicured gardens, which Dorian and I had snuck through on our failed attempt to rescue Aurora. Silver tables and shelves lined the walls, save for one. It was blank, the perfect canvas for the arbiters to cast an image onto. My pulse raced with anticipation. I ventured a glance at Dorian, who stared restlessly around the room. We were finally going to see what was happening down in the lower planes. There was no question of being ready. We had to be.
The arbiters gathered around the blank wall, forming a semicircle. A white cloud bloomed upward over the black bricks until it extended to the floor and ceiling. Sparks of energy crackled off the collaborative work. Ruk had barely held his image with us, and the arbiters didn’t have much energy to spare if they wanted to fix their own problems in the Higher Plane.
“We won’t have long to look,” Xiu told us. “Envision the place as clearly as you can and hold it in your mind. We’ll lock on to your intentions.” It took an immense amount of energy for arbiters to peek into the lower planes, especially for the windows to align with the correct time. I was overwhelmingly thankful. This represented a massive change of heart from when we first met the arbiters and they largely pretended we didn’t exist.
Dorian and I had traded a few ideas on the walk to this room.
“The training camp,” I said. “We need to look for the allies we left behind.” Dorian and I both agreed it was best to determine what had happened there. We had no idea how much time had passed since our departure in the midst of battle, but a desperate part of me hoped it had only been days. I heard my heart hammering against my chest as the arbiters worked their magic.
“Why not look for the Immortal city you told us about?” Sen asked. “I assume your enemies are there. We want you to take down the Immortal Council.”
Because images of our friends dying are haunting us. The arbiters wouldn’t take an emotional line of reasoning, but I could make a logical one.
“We saw a few images during the Games that we’re not sure actually occurred. Our friends died in those visions,” I said. My voice shook. “Our team can help us defeat Irrikus. They have experience with both the Mortal and Immortal Planes. We need collaboration to take out the revenant vampires Irrikus dispatched. Not to mention, our team is a coalition with all kinds among us. We have humans, vampires, makers, wildlings, and even beasts like redbills to help our cause.”
“Their participation will be vital, if they remain in fighting condition,” Dorian added. Xiu didn’t look at the other arbiters before stepping forward toward the image. Dorian continued, “The outcome of the battle we left will be a major determining factor in our strategy, because the training camp was a strategic location for the rulers. We need to know what resources are available to us as we plan. If you want to stop the Immortal Council, we need to see what happened there.”
“I created the window by looking into the future of a likely timeline,” Un said when I caught his eye. “Granted, I chose a likely timeline with the worst-case scenario for people you cared about. I could look into this future because the barriers cause fluctuations in how much time is passing. It provides glimpses of possible futures, but we can’t actually know whether that event will happen.”
My face heated as I tried to process the information. “So it hasn’t happened?” That was a huge relief. Un nodded, confirming it. Of course, that also means it could still happen.
“The timelines work strangely in the Higher Plane,” Ruk murmured next to me. “It could explain what you and Dorian witnessed on your own, the first time you saw a window like this.” I hated to recall the first window we saw when we witnessed Lanzon’s spirit early in our journey in the Higher Plane. Mostly, I remembered the shocking sight of Laini’s potential death played out for us in that mist.
The white window was an opportunity to finally confirm what had happened. No more maybes. Dorian and I were ready. I nodded toward Xiu.
“Very well. Picture it in your mind. Ah, yes,” Xiu muttered. “It’s near the vampire city ruins. Vanim. The tear you showed us during the trial. We can see it.”
Motion rippled across the white image, a blurry kaleidoscope of gray blobs that shifted into perfect clarity. It was soul-dim, with deep shadows sprawled across the scene.
“The time,” I whispered to myself frantically. “How long has it been?” The training camp only showed one side. It looked brand new. Dark shadows gathered around the corner of the image, making it difficult to see beyond the closed entrance. I glimpsed something like patchwork repairs on the very edge of the image, but it was too hard to see in the soul-dim night. No hunters, no monsters, and none of our allies. A flag fluttered in the breeze. I recognized a jaspeth symbol, unmistakably Coalition.
Our friends… they’re alive. My body shuddered with relief, though I couldn’t truly relax until I saw their faces. But we couldn’t waste energy searching the barracks for individuals, not when we only had a few more glimpses of the Immortal Plane.
Xiu frowned and looked between the other arbiters. “From what we can gather, we believe that two or three of what you call months may have passed in both the Immortal and Mortal Planes.” Her words might as well have punched me in the gut. I clapped my hand over my mouth and groaned. That was much longer than I’d hoped.
“Are you sure you didn’t miscalculate?” I pushed back. “Dorian and I thought time passed differently here, but we thought it was slower.”
Xiu stared at me calmly. “Unfortunately, in matters of numbers and time, we’re correct at least in our approximation. It’s likely been closer to three months. The passing of time in the Higher Plane is hard to grasp for lower beings. You have been here quite some time.”
I pressed my forehead into my hand, muttering in disbelief. Three months? I’d lost all sense of time tracking since we’d been here, but I couldn’t believe we had been gone that long. Dorian shot me an equally sympathetic and shocked look. We had to tell the Coalition that we’d found a solution to the tear. Our sudden retreat had left them without two fighters and leaders within the group. There was so much we needed to tell them—while we danced around the Mandate.
“Do you have another location in mind?” Xiu asked. “The energy needs to be conserved. You’ll only get a few glimpses, so choose wisely.”
Dorian ran a hand through his hair and shot me a look. “If we can’t see our allies, then our enemies. They might give us an idea of what’s going on.” I nodded and let my hand drop to my side, feeling my fingers curl into a fist. We would figure this out. I asked, “Can you find Irrikus?”
“Focus on him, and we can try,” Sen said. She watched us closely. Clearly, our reactions had interested her. To her, she must think we’re flipping out over a mere second in their frame of reference.
The window grew red. Dorian and I stood, glaring at the image. My anger tumbled off me easily, but with a restrained hostility. Ruk’s training for the Games had done more for me psychologically than any previous training I’d ever gone through. It was easy to draw up Irrikus’s cruel face. I hated him more than anyone else in the universe.
Irrikus. His form appeared on the window, billowing out from a black pool of nothingness. The background lightened to a dark green. The castle walls sent a shudder of unease through me. I’d seen this castle in real life, and in Ruk’s memories of forging plans with a much friendlier Irrikus. I had seen this ruler before he grew into the terrible being who crushed everything beneath his feet.
He looked out at something. I followed the direction of his gaze and sharp nose to find a map. Red dots scattered across various regions. Revenant vampires. My eyes made out the shape of North America, where a handful were scattered in various places. It was just like the map I’d seen in the sanitarium. I tried to count, but the map in Irrikus’s room changed to show Europe, then Asia.
“The revenants are in place.” A slick voice came from beyond him. Xiu furrowed her brow and strained along with the other arbiters as they worked to bring the image into clearer focus. Irrikus stood at the head of a large planning table. His cruel eyes flickered toward the speaker. A female hunter leaned forward, her black hair spilling over the table. She curled her lip in a proud snarl. A red gem flickered in the middle of her forehead. I caught sight of three others—two lumbering male figures with nearly identical faces and pearly gray skin, and a woman with an ornate braided bouffant wearing armor. All had red gems in their foreheads.
“There’s a dozen revenant masters in that room.” Dorian stared at the image as it flickered out to show us the room. “Can we see more of Itzarriol?”
Xiu nodded and the scene changed.
The sight of an electric-blue blade snapped across the visionary window into the Immortal Plane, swinging close to the ghostly leg of a harvester. The harvester jerked back, trying to evade the blade’s end. The hunter gauntlets allowed them to grapple with the harvesters easily. A group of harvesters was attempting to flee into the distance, but a line of hunters ran after them. My heart sank with dread. The rulers had clearly developed a way to restrain the mysterious harvesters, the shadowy creatures forced to pull energy out of souls for the ruling class. The hunter dragged the harvester backward, across a barren desert with jagged rocks on the outskirts of the Immortal capital.
The image changed again, this time to a flash of troops, hundreds upon hundreds of hunters, lined up in marching ranks. Their boots glinted in the amber soul-light. White skimmers drifted across the sprawling stone plaza. It looked like snowfall, from our angle. Had they ramped up production in the passing months? My tongue felt stuck to the roof of my mouth. It was horrifying to see so many of them. A brief glimpse of makers in shackles, glittering with electric-blue sparks if they resisted, infuriated me. The rulers were forcing every single caste into submission.
“We only have a few glimpses left,” Xiu warned. I swallowed hard, knowing that we needed to prioritize, even if it was hard to concentrate with the overwhelming images before us. Irrikus was preparing an army. Hell, he already had one.
“Can we see alternate timelines for what Irrikus might do in the future?” Dorian asked.
“It’s possible, but in this case, there are too many potential futures.” It was Sen who offered this explanation, her dreamy voice noticeably flatter. “We cannot analyze all the possibilities to determine the most likely, not in the time we have left.”
And we need to make the most of it. Determination sharpened my vision. We needed to focus. There were revenants, and likely the old board members, who were still at large.
“They’re working with allies in the Mortal Plane,” I said. “There was an old governing board at the organization I worked for. They were arrested for their work with the rulers, and then freed by the Immortal Council with a revenant attack. Can you find them? I can imagine my uncle… he was among them.”
Xiu closed her eyes with a look of intent concentration, but they shot back open. “I’m having difficulty looking into the Mortal Plane. It feels like there’s interference… I suspect the tear is interrupting our connection with the lowest plane.” She shook her head. The Mortal Plane wasn’t an option.
Even Un scowled with displeasure. “There’s so much going on there. It’s like nothing but noise comes back when we try to reach out. There are too many creatures… too far away.” He sent a wary look at his comrades, an unusual slip in his typical confidence. If Un’s worried, that’s not a good sign.
Dorian shifted beside me. We exchanged worried looks, as well. Who else could we look for?
“I’m trying to think of ways to search for the revenants, but there’s no way to see them in the Mortal Plane if there’s this much chaos going on,” I said. He nodded and then stiffened, as if suddenly remembering something. “What?”
“Sabal came for Myndra in the Immortal Plane,” he pointed out. “Could Myndra still be in the Immortal Plane?”
I nodded and concentrated on the thought of Myndra, finding it difficult not to think of her sister, as well. Their separation had been devastating, even if I wasn’t especially close to either of them. I couldn’t imagine being in Sabal’s situation when she heard the news of her sister. Myndra’s turning into a revenant had destroyed Sabal… enough for her to come to the Immortal Plane and search it all by herself. “If we find her, perhaps we’ll see the other revenants.”
A long shadow passed over the image. I got the feeling that this might be one of the last images we saw. I focused, taking in every inch of the vision, as the image gradually began to lighten. It was somewhere dark and dreary, unfortunately. I could make out the soft glow of soul-dim light somewhere outside a small chamber.
Myndra sat slumped against iron bars with her forehead against the metal. Her dark brown arm was threaded through a gap in the bars. Sabal was on the other side of the bars, free in a passageway. Her hand clutched Myndra’s in a vise-like grip. It was a heartbreaking image, two sides of a coin linked by hands through bars. So, Sabal had found Myndra in the end and taken her somewhere safe. At least something good had happened while we were gone.
Clean but ragged bandages covered Myndra’s forehead and most of her face. Her new hair stuck out in wild black tufts through the bandages. She trembled and bounced her head off the bars. Sabal whispered sweet, soothing words I couldn’t quite understand.
Dorian swore.
“What?” I asked, desperate to know what they were discussing.
“It
’s a vampire lullaby,” he replied in a strained voice. “It’s what parents sing to their children to get them to calm down.” A deep pain moved just beneath his rigid composure. His glacial eyes softened.
The image suddenly rumbled.
“That’s not us,” Xiu blurted. I stared, alarmed, as Sabal jerked back from her sister to look through whatever doorway or window was providing the light. Her brilliant green eyes hardened, almost glowing in the darkness.
“I’ll be back,” she whispered to her sister. She rushed to a doorway and poured out of a shack-like building. The ground, I recognized, somehow. It was dirt, but oddly flattened… as if it had been purposefully set up for a kind of encampment.
“Where are they?” I pressed. I had a feeling I knew, but it was difficult to tell in the darkness. My heart raced as the arbiters struggled to stabilize the image. It was flickering like a television with poor connection.
“This will be the last image.” Xiu’s voice was strained. The image fluttered and gave another terrible shake. It was the ground itself, trembling. Sabal was flung to the dirt.
She looked up from the ground of the training camp. She wasn’t alone. I spotted a few other figures, wearing ragged vests that looked very familiar. My heart froze in a moment of dreadful anticipation.
The light changed as a shadow of a long, serpentine body fell over the already dim camp. It was a shrieking decay. Not far behind, an armed force of flying skimmers and shadowy creatures flew toward the training grounds. Yells echoed in the distance. Wildlings screeched, using horns to trumpet a warning of the oncoming attack. Lanterns lit the tops of the partially destroyed walls. The camp flickered to life.
Our allies were under attack.
4
Lyra
Darklight 7: Darkfall Page 3