by Ana Calin
All until low snarling draws my attention. It comes from between two columns, close to the stone casing. It’s Samael. He just lingers there, patient, observing. He hasn’t sensed me yet, but he’s feeling for me, and watching the key. It’s the magical item that we’re competing for, the first of three items I have to secure in order to save my realm. If I don’t, I’ll be going to the dungeons for a long, long time, and Cerys will be at the mercy of that bastard Kareim. But I swear to the high realms, if I’m going down, I’ll take him out first.
Finally, Samael moves. I can hear the rustle of his worm body dragging on the stone floor as he heads towards the key. He moves slowly, but with confidence. He reaches for the key, but before he can touch it, the casing’s stone lid moves, and the Great Smoke hisses into the air.
I wait for the fight, watching to discover any weakness the Great Smoke might have. It always helps to know what you’re fighting, especially when you’re basically stripped of your powers in front of such a threat.
The Great Smoke is more than what I imagined it to be. It’s a magical creature all right, but when it blasts into the entire space, I realize its powers are unfathomable. It blocks the scene from sight, and even Samael makes a sharp sound that marks his distress. I advance slowly through the smoke, mastering my movements and all my senses to ensure that I don’t attract the Great Smoke’s attention. The good thing about this magic that expands smoke everywhere is that it tells you whether the Great Smoke has taken notice of you or not.
And right now I know that its entire attention is fixed on Samael. Even though the Archangel of Death sounds alarmed, he’s sure as fuck not easy to deal with, not even for such a creature as the Great Smoke. On the other hand, if he can make Samael react like this, then he’d be a challenge for me, too, even if I could use my powers.
But I can’t use fire against it without enhancing its powers; my blades would be of no use either. If Samael’s hellish dark magic has a hard time affecting the creature, then mine would, too. But, as I move forward, narrowing my eyes and straining to see without activating the fire in my irises, I can feel the smoke around me cringe. Something Samael is doing is harming it.
Then it cringes more, then it trembles, and starts to constrict around me as if walls were closing in. I freeze in place, because if I take another step, it will sense me. But now I’m close enough to see Samael in his worm form, his huge mouth open, sucking the smoke in. The Great Smoke is trying to resist the Archangel of Death, and I suppose this is Samael’s way of bringing death to it. The Smoke shrieks, but manages to pull back. Samael constricts and tries harder, but the Great Smoke is gaining the upper hand.
We might have to work together in order to neutralize the creature. If Samael’s suction worked, then probably the best thing to do is to enhance that suction. I whip out two blades, raise them over my head, and start swinging them so fast that it creates a vortex. It attracts the creature’s attention, so as soon as the vortex has enough momentum I run over to Samael’s side.
“Open your mouth,” I call over the whirl, and the creature’s screeches. One of the good things about supernaturals of Samael’s league is that they understand very quickly. He opens his large wormhole of a mouth, and I swing the blades harder, adding to the strength of suction, joining my strength with his.
But even though at first the suction seems to work, soon more smoke emerges from seemingly everywhere. The more of it we get into Samael’s wormhole, the more smoke emerges, becoming so thick that we can barely still see through it.
“Fuck,” I grunt, and try harder, baring my teeth and giving it all I have. But I think both the Archangel of Death and I know. We might not make it out of here alive.
Cerys
I PUSH BACK MY CHAIR, running my hands wildly through my hair.
“It’s past midnight, and no sign of him, Marayke,”
“You need to find a way and calm down,” she insists. “Worrying like a lunatic isn’t going to help either you or Xerxes.”
“You don’t understand how high the stakes are for me,” I cry. “If anything happens to him, I... I don’t even want to imagine. I have to do something.”
“Like what?” She opens her arms and looks around demonstratively. “It’s just you and me in this suite, and we’re sure as fuck not getting out of here. Even if the Palace guards and staff would let us—which they wouldn’t—Draven would never allow us to go out there. And quite frankly, I’m not very keen on going out into the Caledonian forest in the middle of the night, Cerys.”
“You don’t have to go. I’ll do it alone.” I lean over the archway, gauging the distance to the bottom of the palace. “I’m gonna need one of those clouds that brought us up here. Can you get one of those for me?”
“Even if I could, no!”
I whirl around, incredulous that she’s not backing me up on this.
“Please, Marayke, I won’t get a better chance. I can’t let him die out there.”
“If he doesn’t survive the Caledonian forest or the Great Smoke, what makes you think you will, Cerys? Fuck’s sakes, he is the King of Flames, and the other one is the Archangel of Death. Who, by the way, isn’t back either. If there were already a winner, the entire Palace would be echoing with the news, that’s how loud they would get downstairs.”
“Then help me go and die with him, because I don’t want to keep on living in a universe where he doesn’t exist. Please, it’s all I ask.”
She holds my stare, and damn it. I see honesty in there, loyalty to Xerxes, but also genuine friendship for me. She’s torn, and I’m the one who’s hurting her. I walk over, take her hands in mine, and even manage a smile, though it’s not easy with my heavy heart. It’s like a huge rock weighs on it.
“Listen, what if I don’t have to get out there at all?”
She narrows her eyes. “What crazy idea did you get now?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. This is dangerous, even though I know how to do it.
“A while ago one of my clients taught me astral projecting. She was a dark witch, and astral projecting is controversial business, but I was curious, and well, I learned.”
“You want to astral project to Xerxes?”
“He wouldn’t even know I’m there. No one would. She taught me how to do it in a way that I remain unseen.”
“But why would you astral project if you can’t help him anyway?”
“I have an ace in my sleeve, but I don’t have the time to explain now.” I look down, still holding her hands, and trying to cope with my despair. “One can only astral project for so long before things get nasty. Spirits of the Underworld, Soul Watchers, are drawn to souls still bound to living bodies. I will probably have a window of a few minutes before they come to harvest mine, and I promise to be back before that happens. Will you help?”
She ponders for moments that feel like precious minutes.
“And if I don’t?” she says.
My eyes dart over to the bathroom door. I’ll lock myself in there, and astral project without her watching over my body. It’s indicated that someone always watches over you, because things can go wrong, but in this case I’ll have to do without the back-up.
“I’ll find a way to him, Marayke. Nothing can stop me. Only that I won’t be as safe as with you watching over me.”
“Fine. I’ll help.”
“High realms, thank you.”
“Just so we’re clear, I’m caving in to your insistences. I don’t want to do this. It’s dangerous, and you shouldn’t, and if Xerxes survives he’s never gonna forgive me for it.”
“He never needs to find out.”
“Oh, he will find out. Bonded mates can’t keep secrets from each other, not for long.”
Before I can argue with that she turns and drags me over to the smaller room, locking the door behind us.
“Now listen. You say you can only be out there for a few minutes before the spirits of the Underworld come and harvest your soul. How many minutes do
you mean, exactly? How long do we have?”
I sift through my memory of the information and the experiences with the witch who taught me, rubbing the back of my neck.
“Five minutes, maybe ten. But I need at least twice that to get into the state that will allow the separation of body and spirit.” I’d be able to do it much faster if I had more experience, but I’m not going to say that and shoot myself in the foot.
“All right then. Do it. I’ll watch over your body and let no one in, but the slightest sign that something’s not going right with you, and I’m pulling you back. Because you are going to show me how to bring you back before we do this.”
I nod, and tell her the words that will cause my spirit to return, and show her how to take my hands in hers, pressing tightly, to make me increasingly aware of my physical body. Then I lie down on the floor, and Marayke surrounds me with a circle of candles, which are abundantly available in the suite. They’re intended for relaxing baths, but they’ll do just fine.
I close my eyes, and go through the steps I did years ago with the witch. It goes easier this time, even though it’s been years since I last tried this. It’s the dark energy that I’ve tapped into lately that helps, I know that, and astral projecting is only going to push me further down that road, but I don’t care.
With Xerxes in my mind, I separate from my body and lunge down the tower like a flying spirit, air whipping against my face and through my hair, wheezing around my astral body. I travel as if through a fast tunnel towards the place of my intention, and come to a halt in a scene that seems taken out of a nightmare.
There is Xerxes, swinging his blades above his head, his face strained, his muscles bulging. My heart leaps into my throat when I see Samael behind him, the winged reptilian creature, his alligator jaws open too wide, at an unnatural angle, sucking smoke inside himself, Xerxes’ swirling blades obviously helping. They’re working together instead of against each other, but Xerxes’ strain has caused his veins of fire to show, glowing through his skin, and causing shadow to waft off of him. This only fuels the Great Smoke that’s so thick I wouldn’t be able to see through it with my parahuman eyes.
They’re not going to make it. The creature rises, and its screeches could make a human’s ears bleed. I watch terrified as the smoke overwhelms both Xerxes and Samael, both god-like creatures. Anguish rises in my throat. High realms, what do I do? I look around, my eyes resting on the golden key in its crystal box, right above the creature’s actual lair.
But getting it now and securing this round’s victory for Xerxes won’t save his life. The smoke coils around him and Samael. The thing doesn’t have solid expression, so it can’t be physically killed. Samael can’t bring death to it, because one cannot kill smoke.
I squeeze my eyes shut, and place all my bets on this one card. This has to work, it just has to. I reach in down deep within myself, as if traveling from this world deeper through the realms, and into Tartarus. When I’m there, I let my emotions roam free, my anger and my anguish together, commanding the shadows of the deep.
With a roar, I bring them forth, and cast them like hurling blades into the smoke. The shadows stick like clusters of tar to the smoke, causing it to rip away from Samael and Xerxes, and focus on the new attackers. I grin, watching them spread over the Great Smoke. They’re just like it. They’re not something it can kill or otherwise annihilate, and it succumbs quickly to their spreading pestilence.
Something like an owl call resounds behind me. I look over my shoulder and discover one Underworld spirit, a Soul Watcher, staring at me as if it’s not quite sure what it’s seeing. It won’t be long until more join it. I have to disappear, but first I need to secure Xerxes a competitive advantage.
He and Samael need only glance at each other to know that the competition is on again. They leap towards the golden key, and they seem about to reach it at the same time, which will cause complications. It’s unfair, but then again, Samael has been unfair to me as well. I cast some of the shadows at him. They stick to his back, pulling him backwards. He hits the ground, crying in rage, thrashing and wailing in an amalgam of forms. As if a thousands people were looking at him at the same time.
As Samael struggles, Xerxes uses the chance, and snatches the golden key. The battle is won. The second Soul Watcher joins the first one, its owl call sending an eerie feeling all through me. I can feel death close, breathing against the nape of neck. Samael is still struggling, but he’s becoming aware of me, of a soul that needs harvesting, I can feel that.
But I can’t leave yet, not with what’s just crossing my mind. My eyes dart from my triumphant Xerxes to the thrashing Samael, then to the screeching Great Smoke. The shadows aren’t enough to eliminate it, nor were they intended to. They’re holding it back until Xerxes gets what he needs and escapes, but they could serve a bigger purpose than that. If I let them pin Samael down long enough, he won’t be able to fight the Great Smoke alone when it manages to free itself from my shadows. With him out of the way, all Xerxes and my problems would be gone. No more absurd demands on the Fire Realm, no more threats of imprisoning Xerxes. Kareim and those behind him would have nothing to build their wicked plans on.
But the third Soul Watcher will be here soon, and that will be that for me if I don’t leave right now. Not to mention that Samael would know beyond a doubt that I’m here, and if he makes it out of here alive, Xerxes and I will be in a fuckton of trouble. I have to make a decision fast, and the only fast decision that I can make is the one I make with my heart.
I guide the shadows off of Samael, freeing him. He’s a brilliant supernatural, and he knows this is a chance he better take without thinking. He jumps off the monument after Xerxes, and they both run toward the exit before the Great Smoke frees itself. Xerxes already has the key, which means that he’s won this round. But just as I make to disappear, too, I realize it’s too late. The third Soul Watcher is here.
CHAPTER VI
Xerxes
Out of the Mausoleum and into the dark Caledonian forest again, Samael and I part ways. I know he considered fighting me for the key, but the risk of the Great Smoke freeing itself and coming after us is great, and neither of us can risk that. I have the key, and this round is settled in my favor, but it’s an unearned glory.
There’s no mistaking the shadows that attacked the Great Smoke. They were the Tartarian creatures of the kind that Cerys unwittingly produced back at the inn in Edinburgh, and that Draven had to channel away. She was there, in the Mausoleum with me, but she wasn’t there in the flesh. She was astral-projecting.
I catch unnatural speed as I move through the forest towards the Palace, stirring the magic mist full of dangerous creatures of the dark. They wouldn’t dare approach me in the state I’m in anyway. Fire burns through my veins, cracking my skin, shadow pouring off of me as I barge into the Palace main hall. Samael hasn’t gotten back yet, it’s obvious by the way half of the crowd cheers, while the other remains silent, staring with gloom in their eyes. I flash by them, only slowing down when I see Draven, who steps in my way.
“Make sure that no one follows,” I breathe, and pick up speed again, taking two steps at a time on the grand staircase, and jumping on the first cloud in my way. It transports me up to Cerys’ suite, where I throw the doors open and search for her, calling out her name.
The door to the small room opens, and Marayke appears, a horrified look on her face.
“Milord, please, do something, I think she’s gone,” she whispers, tears falling down her face.
“What? Get out of the way,” I growl. But she seems made of stone, the shock rendering her unable to move, so I have to push her aside.
There she is, my Cerys, lying down, only a red silken robe covering her body. Her hair is spread like a dark sun around her head, her pale skin casting a rare and strange glow the color of peaches, and while there’s enticing quality to it, it’s also dangerous. It’s the glow of Tartarian energy.
I drop to my knees by h
er side, destroying the circle of candles and scooping her up in my arms. Nazarean meows like he’s mourning, which sends anxiety mixing with the fire in my veins.
“Nothing seemed to be wrong,” Marayke says while I caress Cerys’ face, whispering her name, calling her back to me. “I said that I would bring her back at the first sign she’s not doing well, but there was no sign. I mean, the cat watched her intently for minutes, and started lamenting just before I heard you barge into the suite, calling out her name.”
“You shouldn’t have let her do this.” Tears of fire burn behind my eyes. If they fall down my cheeks, they will be made of lava. Pain strangles my heart, but her soul is still close, I can feel it. It can’t have gotten far. The Soul Watchers won’t be able to hold her back if her bonded mate demands her spirit to return.
Her lips are still warm as I cover them with mine. She feels so soft against my mouth as I kiss her deeper, her energy slowly returning to her body, the blood flowing through her veins again. This will bring her back to life, but it won’t quench my thirst for her.
I know Marayke is right behind us, but I just can’t control myself. I need to merge with my wife. I can’t fight this craving for her, I kiss her deeply as I lay her back on the floor, in the middle of what’s left of the candles. Within moments I’m naked, throwing leather and blades off of me, and pushing her legs open with my thighs. My engorged cock is aching for her, rubbing against her soft pubes. I have to keep from entering her, because I’ll come in a minute, but she grabs my cock with her small hand, and I almost spill myself on her lower belly. I groan, pushing my tongue deeper into her mouth, not even giving a damn that we have company.