To Darkness Bound Box Set

by Zandria West

  I see a shadow of uncertainty pass across Gabriel’s face and feel the cold bite of his fear. It is not just the fear of failure, but of his magic being given over, made vulnerable before a witch of such ability as Graciela.

  ‘I… I do not know,’ he begins. ‘That is not something I’ve ever done before.’

  He looks at me, and I see the question clear in his eyes. Can we truly trust her?

  Right now, I do not see that we have any choice. ‘Please Gabriel,’ I urge him.

  ‘I will try,’ he offers, though he sounds far from confident.

  ‘You will do more than that, I hope,’ Graciela scowls and with a raised hand, dismisses us all from her presence.

  7

  GABRIEL

  ‘Take five minutes.’ Graciela rubs her temples and closes her eyes. Her shoulders rise and fall as she takes a deep breath and releases it.

  I stand and walk away from the place where she has laid everything out. Spellbook. Amulet. Ancient casting-stones. Herbs. Candles. She’s covering all the bases, but somehow, I’m still failing. Every time. The words I need to say won’t come.

  My mother wouldn’t be surprised, I think, and the thought leaves a bad feeling deep in my gut. She always expected me to fail.

  Lana is still sleeping. Alex and Grayson have headed out on patrol, but no further sightings have been made of the demon invaders. The villagers are in a state of unbridled ecstasy, I can hear their chants from here. They are desperate for another vision of Izushi, and I am worried about what they might do to her in such a state of excitement. The discovery of demons so close to our base is even more worrying. Graciela is counting on my assistance to protect Lana from attack.

  ‘Are you ready?’

  I nod and return again to the circle that Graciela has marked out in the centre of the floor. The candles are burning, emitting a sweet-smelling perfume that makes me feel sick. I sit and try to steady myself in preparation for what we must do.

  In order to accomplish the level protection that we need, Graciela and I are attempting something very rare – a true combining of our powers in a single spell. It requires trust, communication and concentration. I understand the need for it. I keep willing myself to do it – to join my mind with Graciela’s, to share my power. But it is an act that is deeply personal and not without risk. If you truly share power with another witch – especially one as skilled as Lana’s mother – you are placing yourself utterly at their mercy. I trust Graciela. I tell myself that this is true. I try to feel the trust. For Lana’s sake, I must. But still, something in me resists.

  ‘Gabriel,’ Graciela says, her voice low. I meet her eyes, and for a moment I see the resemblance to Lana. ‘I do not think I ever thanked you. I can think of no one better to have protected my daughter through all of the danger that she has faced.’ She smiles, but I see the pain written on her face. ‘I was never there. Not for any of it. I have not ever been part of her life. I didn’t see her learn to walk. I didn’t hear her first words. I didn’t hold her when she was scared or read her favourite book to her. I never saw her birthday or watched her play. And now she is grown into a woman, stronger than I could have dreamed. This –’ she gestures with her hands to all the magical paraphernalia surrounding us. ‘— might be the one thing I can do for her. I can use my power to protect her, at least for a little while. But I can’t do it alone. Help me, please.’

  I pause for a moment, and then nod. All I want to do is protect Lana. Her safety is worth any risk to my own. I reach out to take hold of Graciela’s pale hands again, feeling the sudden thrum of magical energy flowing between us.

  ‘You are ready?’

  ‘I am,’ I say, steeling myself to what must be done.

  In an instant I see, not Graciela before me, but my own mother. The Great Witch was a relentless tutor, harsh and critical, with standards so high as to seem utterly unattainable. I remember one day after a long and unsuccessful practise session she turned to me with a particularly colourful curse and cried: You know what your problem is Gabriel? It is not that you cannot do what I ask, but that you have no faith in your own powers. You are capable of almost anything and yet you limit yourself at every step. It’s as though failure is all you can imagine. If you can do no better, then what you imagine will be your destiny. And she shook her head and huffed out of the room to make a pot of tea.

  She didn’t give up, though. Not on me. Not on anything that she set her mind to. I feel a spark of resolve within me. I am the son and student of the Great Witch. If anyone can do this, it should be me.

  I close my eyes and listen as Graciela begins the chant. The words are ancient, from a language long lost to the dust of human time, but kept alive in a concentrated, rarefied form by use in incantations such as the one we are performing today. It calls on the forgotten ones, those beings of power that dwelled even before the Gods found form, that still push and pull beneath the surface of things in the dark corners untouched and unclaimed by Deities.

  Amma haram talarivim. Hara tali karalirim.

  I feel a stirring, the touch of a breeze so light that I am not sure if it is real or imaginary. Graciela tightens her grip on my hands. I join her, repeating the incantation over and over until the words blur and become nothing but a wall of sound, a thrum of power, surrounding us, building and growing. I feel that lightness, the sense of elation that always comes upon me when I weave powerful magic. I know that once this spell is complete, no other power will be able to breach the protective ward we have created.

  The breeze quickly rises to a gale that seems to roar through us and around us, the sound like a tremendous storm, so intense that I wonder that it won’t blow the very walls and roof from the house. I do not open my eyes. I do not let go of Graciela’s hands. It is close now, so close.

  Then, as quickly as the wind arose, it drops away. The room is quiet, except for the usual sounds. Birds chirping outside the window. A tap dripping somewhere nearby. The sound of Reuben’s heavy footsteps as he paces restlessly outside the door of the room where Lana sleeps.

  I open my eyes. Nothing looks any different.

  ‘Is it done?’ I ask.

  Graciela blinks her eyes open, and smiles at me, then release my hands. ‘It is,’ she says. ‘The protection should hold for as long as we need, until we are ready to make the journey to the Circle of Witches.’

  ‘When will that be?’ I ask.

  ‘Not long now, I expect,’ she says. ‘I am grateful for your assistance, Warlock.’ She inclines her head and rises, leaving the room.

  I sit a few more minutes, feeling uncomfortably raw and vulnerable from the magic that we worked together. I look out the window and back down onto the glowing emerald green of the forest, hoping that the sight will soothe me. The day is clear and beautiful, peaceful. When I concentrate, I can sense the magic humming around us like a tightly drawn string.

  Lana is safe, I tell myself. Safe for the moment.

  8

  LANA

  The next week passes in a haze. Graciela is serious about my need for training and I’m happy to have the distraction it provides. Whenever I have time to stop and think about what I’m going to have to do, I see the faces of the mother and her baby. Hopeful. Trusting. Grateful. The memory tears at my heart.

  Early mornings are claimed by Grayson. He wakes me before dawn and takes me into a small, bare room with white-painted walls. It seems like it was designed specifically for the sorts of exercises that we’re doing.

  Focus on the breath. In and out. Thoughts intrude, let them pass and return to the breath.

  It would be a lot like the meditation class that I was sent to as a troubled teenager, if it wasn’t for Graciela’s special addition – a few drops of the magical liquid containing a vision of Hell which is placed into a bowl of water in the centre of the room for me to gaze into as we start each day. What follows is a torture worse than any I faced in the demon prison.

  I try to focus on my breath while my heart
is pounding with terror. Don’t let thoughts intrude as I hear, realer than anything I’ve ever heard before, the screams of people dying in pain all around me. I struggle not to break down completely when the leader of the demon horde spots me and prepares to attack. He is terrible, a terrifying figure. The moment his eyes rest on me I know I’m about to face my death.

  The first few times I try this concentration exercise are, not surprisingly, an utter failure. Even though I know what’s coming, I’m paralysed. It’s just so real. I almost vomit from fear. I feel mortified by my weakness. But Grayson is unperturbed. The calm, steady sound of his voice gives me something to focus on. With practise, I find I can breathe without hyperventilating from terror. My heartrate settles. I begin to keep myself still and calm, even as all hell breaks loose around me.

  ‘Good,’ Grayson says at the end of each session, even the ones where I finish up covered with sweat and shaking from the horror of what I’ve witnessed.

  From there it’s breakfast, which I have to force myself to eat. There’s nothing like witnessing a demon invasion first thing in the morning to ruin your appetite. I need my strength though, because after breakfast I train with Reuben. While less horrific than what I go through with Grayson, the time with Reuben is intensely challenging. He’s been tasked with building my physical strength. He teaches me a form of wrestling that he says is unique to his Pack – I always end up face down in the dirt. We do push ups. Pull ups from a tree branch just outside the house. Squats holding rocks. For hours. I’m not kidding. It takes all the control I can muster not to throw one of the goddamn rocks at his head.

  He does everything that I do and makes it looks easy. I end up drenched with sweat, trembling so hard that I can barely stand. When I can’t continue for another second, he stands behind me and traces the Bondmark on my back with his fingertips. Energy rushes through me. And then he makes me do it all over again.

  My body responds to his punishment faster and more dramatically than I’d have ever thought possible. Within days I’m stronger. Tougher. Able to withstand more and for longer. My muscles are becoming defined. I feel myself standing taller, though I’m guessing it’s barely noticeable when I’m next to his six foot seven inches of solidly muscled werewolf.

  You’d think between Grayson and Reuben, that would be enough for the day, but no.

  After dinner, when all I want to do is lie my aching body down and let my tired mind rest, I go to Gabriel.

  We sit in a darkened room by lamplight and read old books. He shows me magical symbols, and I trace them with my finger and visualise them in my mind. He talks about energy, power and balance. Occasionally Graciela joins us, though she lets Gabriel take the lead in teaching me. Sometimes I think I feel something – a faint tingling in my limbs, a warmth in the centre of my chest. Most of the time I just feel tired. Gabriel doesn’t seem worried about my progress, even when I wonder if I’m making any at all. He calmly begins each session where we left off the day before.

  One night, he opens a leather-bound book to a page displaying a vivid illustration of a group of demons. The crow on my arm sparks with heat and I gasp from the unexpected sensation. Gabriel looks up but doesn’t say anything, just turns the page again and continues reading. Even though I hardly feel like I’m absorbing anything from these sessions with him, I find that the symbols we’ve studied return to me each night in my dreams. When I wake each morning, they seem to have become clearer and more certain in my mind.

  ‘I will find a solution,’ he says to me one night, just before I leave. For a moment I have no idea what he’s talking about. ‘The Dark God, my mother’s pact… I know there is a way out of it, I’m sure of it.’

  I stiffen. I’ve tried to put it out of my mind. It is just an additional layer of insolubility on top an already seemingly impossible situation.

  ‘I appreciate that –’ I begin, but he doesn’t let me finish.

  ‘It may be that it will become a matter for the Gods once more. They banished him before, they can deal with his return, and cast him out again if they have to. Whatever happens, Lana, I do not want you to pay the price for my mother’s mistake.’

  I swallow and look away. His words aren’t exactly reassuring.

  My days of training are full and challenging, leaving mercifully little time for reflection or anticipation. Every night when I’m finally released from Gabriel’s lessons, Alex waits for me in the bedroom. I shower and collapse on the bed, utterly exhausted. He holds me and strokes my hair as I drift off to sleep. He asks nothing. Expects nothing. He doesn’t want to know how the day went, or if I’m ready for what is coming, or if I’m scared. He’s just there, and the simple fact of his presence comforts and restores me.

  I quickly lose track of the days; each day is exactly like the one before. The only change is that Graciela begins to spend longer with me as I work with Gabriel, and she starts to teach me the foundations for the spell that I must cast. We practise the words I must say, over and over again. She probably thinks it will give me confidence but in fact it makes me more nervous, because I say the words and nothing happens. No stirring of magic. No rising power. How do I know that, when the moment comes and I say these words for real, it will be any different? What if I speak the spell and nothing changes?

  We’re waiting to hear back from the Circle, to know when they will meet with us. Part of me hopes that they make it soon, because the longer the silence, the greater my fear about the meeting and what will follow it. Another part would be happy to continue on like this forever, preparing for a day that I pray will never arrive. Eventually, Graciela informs me at dinner one night that the next day will be the full moon, and that I should have a day off training to rest. I go to sleep that night nestled into Alex’s embrace, feeling both more exhausted and more alive than I’ve ever felt before. It’s like the training is altering me on the deepest level, like my very DNA is shifting and bending into something new and unfamiliar. If we keep on like this, I’ll hardly know myself, I think.

  I’m no longer the old Lana, slightly clumsy, liable to say the wrong thing and succumb to occasional emotional outbursts. I’m harder, stronger, clearer. I’m an arrow, pointing at a target. A flint ready to spark.

  I wonder though, when the spark comes, will it burn me up completely?

  9

  LANA

  It must be late, because when I wake my men have already risen. I part the blinds slightly and blink at the sudden onslaught of daylight. No training today – I can hardly believe it. I’m blurry from sleep and light-headed with hunger. Muscles that I’ve never before been acquainted with ache after the intense training session I had with Reuben yesterday. It was like he wanted to make up for the day off by giving me two days’ worth of training in one. I stand and stretch, then wrap a pale blue silk dressing-gown around myself and make my way through the house to the bathroom. I listen. The house is still and silent. I listen more deeply, touching each of the threads of the Binding that connects me to my men, one by one. There is the wild spark of energy that is pure Alex; the calm grounding of Reuben’s presence; the intense focus of Gabriel; the sharp, icy longing that perfectly blends sweetness and bitter pain tying me to Grayson. All present and accounted for.

  Once the shower is steaming hot, I close my eyes and step in. I let the water pour down on me, steady, embracing, comforting. The shower helps to relieve some of my aches and refreshes that part of me that sleep seems not to have touched.

  I get dressed, spend a few minutes trying to brush the knots out of my hair before giving it up as a task for another day. It’s not until I make my way down the long corridor towards the kitchen that I begin to sense that something is wrong. It’s too quiet. Every step I take, my sense of disquiet deepens until it’s sickeningly close to dread.

  Then I open the kitchen door.

  My men are all standing. Graciela is seated with a pot of tea before her and a collection of assorted, unmatching cups. She is pouring tea into the cups, slowly and
methodically, like there is nothing at all unusual about the situation. Beside her sits – my brother.

  ‘Jamie?’ I gasp. The room swims around me. I feel hot and cold at the same time. Everything looks shimmery and distant.

  ‘Lana, sit,’ Reuben takes hold of my hand and leads me to a chair, settling me down at the far end of the table, as far away from Jamie as possible, then squatting beside me, not letting go of my hand for even a moment.

  I can’t make sense of what I’m seeing. My brother, here, before me. Alive, breathing, stirring his usual ridiculously-too-many spoonfuls of sugar into his tea. But how? Why?

  ‘Jamie was working with Garenda,’ I say urgently to my mother. I need to warn her. She has to understand. Jamie tried to kill my men. He would have let Garenda kill me. He chose his side and it was the wrong one.

  ‘We all make mistakes,’ Graciela says calmly, pushing a teacup down the table towards me. ‘I trust that your brother has learnt from of his.’

  ‘But why is he here?’ I ask, desperately. He looks up and I see restrained fury darkening his shard blue eyes. Those eyes I know so well. Those eyes that look so much like my own.

  Graciela glances between us. ‘I stayed away from both of you in order to protect you, to keep your secret hidden, Lana. Now the time for hiding is over. Jamie is my son. I wanted to see him.’

  ‘So, I assume she told you it’s all true?’ I meet Jamie’s gaze and hold it. ‘I am the Key to restoring the Barrier between worlds. Just like I told you. And your fucking girlfriend tried to kill me for it. Twice.’

  ‘She’s not my girlfriend,’ he mutters.

  I roll my eyes. I’ve been through so much, and the worst of it has been brought on by that abomination Garenda. Clarissa as my father and brother both knew her.

  ‘Did he tell you about that?’ I say, turning back to Graciela. ‘He was willing to watch me die.’