“But how was I supposed to know?” I murmured, hearing the tremor in my voice.
“What?”
Shaking my head, I got up. “Nothing.”
“Unending…” Tristan replied, beckoning me to look at him. I could barely do it. There was hope in his beautiful eyes. And I could practically hear his pulse rushing, the enthusiasm thundering through his ribcage. He was itching to take out the guards and walk us out of here, but we both knew that wasn’t an option. Hrista had planned well for this. She had spent a considerable amount of time building Anunit’s rogue profile and grooming us. The real one had been locked up somewhere. We didn’t know when exactly, but it made sense that she’d had nothing to do with Reapers being brought back to life. That was clearly part of Anunit’s palette of awful deeds.
“I can’t even shed this body,” I told him, sounding utterly defeated. “I’m useless, Tristan. Even if I had my scythe, none of the death magic I can still wield would in any way be useful to our circumstances. If I die, I die for good, and we’ll never see each other again. She upended everything, and I welcomed it with arms wide open.” So much for not blaming myself.
“It’s not over,” he said, undeterred. I loved him with everything I had. I would’ve given my own flesh to believe his words to be true, but the facts were against us. “We’re trapped here. Surrounded by clones. You saw the Berserkers through that stupid window, didn’t you?”
His enthusiasm faded. Uneasiness settled in his gaze. “Yeah… I have no idea how to handle one of them if we ever cross paths.”
“Let alone the dozen or so that are here. She may have even brought more of them over, in the meantime.”
“So what do you suggest we do?” Tristan asked, raising an eyebrow at me.
I shrugged in reply, wishing I could be as strong or as resilient as he was. My own nature had been taken away from me. I had no Reaperhood to return to. My body was a hindrance, no longer a joy. In the blink of an eye, the dream I had been struggling to attain for so long had soured beyond repair. What good was a family if the world was destroyed?
“I… I don’t know.”
Hrista appeared out of nowhere beyond the steel bars. “Finally. A clueless Reaper. I thought I’d never see the day. Your kind is famous for being obnoxious know-it-alls… Oh, the delight!”
Tension filled our cell room in an instant. Her mere presence destroyed the last of my hopes—though I could no longer maintain any sort of optimism. I didn’t like this state of mind, and I did not know how to get myself out of it. I had never had such issues as a Reaper before. But as a living being, I was at the mercy of my feelings.
“You have not defeated us!” Tristan snapped. “We’ll find our way. We always do.”
“Aw… that’s so romantic,” Hrista replied, mocking him. “I am totally rooting for you, Tristan. Believe it or not, I want you and the universe to prove me wrong. I want the power of love to defeat me. But I reckon the three of us already know that that’s not going to happen. Had love been worth anything, it would have kept Spirit and me together forever. Instead, here we are!” Her humor faded. “I have The Shade. I will have the entire world of the living on its knees by the time I’m done. The realm of the Reapers will fall apart. Death and life will break… the balance will be gone, and the universe will shudder in my grip.”
“And then what?” I asked, my tone flat. I figured the approach might work, since Tristan had effectively used it on me. “What will you do then?”
Hrista let out a full sigh, as if she’d just woken from a wonderful dream, and I’d nearly spoiled the ending for her. “I have no idea, and that’s the whole beauty of this exercise.”
“So, good ol’ chaos. That’s so boring and overdone,” Tristan chimed in, picking up on my jabs. We didn’t need telepathy to be on the same wavelength, it seemed. I’d almost forgotten. I’d been so caught up in my own misery, that I had neglected the very man who had set me free from my five-million-year curse.
I nodded. “It’s actually quite the cliché. GASP has dealt with much worse.”
“They have never faced me,” Hrista shot back with a hiss. We’d insulted her immense pride, and I’d finally found a soft spot that I could poke until it bled. Pride had brought greater entities down. I’d figure out a way to do the same to her. “I’m a Valkyrie with flawless control over both light and darkness. I have been given the superior knowledge of Death’s ancient magic, as well. I have made life, and I now claim the Earthly realm as my own.”
Tristan clicked his teeth. “Is this supposed to be the official announcement? I thought you’d at least notify the ones outside The Shade. You know there will be hell to pay for what you’ve done.”
He didn’t need to know what she was capable of. He didn’t require the historical details of Valkyries and Berserkers—Tristan only had what I’d given him from my readings of the World Crusher’s book. Everything she had accomplished until now was proof that Hrista was a worthy adversary. I feared she was worse than the Spirit Bender. He’d never hurled Purgatory magic at us. He’d stuck to what he had known. Or maybe death magic had been all he could use. Hrista was clearly superior.
“I’d laugh in your face, but you’re in a cell, your fate sealed, done and dusted,” Hrista replied, regaining a sense of calm I hadn’t seen in her since she’d played the part of Anunit, the rogue Reaper who traipsed across the universe helping Reapers become real little boys. “It would be cruel of me to rub it in your face. However, I see that you are doubtful. It’s perfectly understandable. Life as you know it is over, and I’m trampling it without a single shred of mercy. I suppose denial is part of the process.”
She was going somewhere with this. Hrista had not come here just to tease us. As if reading my mind—or at least the faint changes in my expression—Tristan inched closer and took my hand in his. He squeezed tightly, pouring all his love into this simple yet meaningful gesture. I had worked so hard to give us a family… and Hrista had toyed with us. I would never forgive her. Even in a living body, I would pay her back for what she had done.
That’s it. The anger. Feed on it. You need it more than you need despair.
“Why are you here? Gloating is the mark of a weak and pitiful spirit,” I said, raising my chin in defiance. There was something about Tristan’s quiet encouragement that had given me an extra surge of strength. “Surely, you, the brilliant Hrista, the uber-talented Valkyrie whom everyone somehow underestimated, has a better reason to be here than to… gloat.”
She almost smiled as she looked at me. There was hatred in those blue eyes. It burned cold, but it was unmistakable. “Your husband here has been around for what, some forty years? But you’re ancient. Pretty much timeless, right?”
“Old enough to know that tampering with the universe will only come back to bite you in your Valkyrie ass,” I retorted.
“That remains to be seen. But you’re right about one thing, oh, mortal one,” she said, once again in a dazzlingly good humor. The white silk poured down her back, the armor clanging whenever she moved. For a rebel of Purgatory, she seemed attached to her original uniform. It told me plenty about Hrista. “I didn’t come here to mock you. There’s no fun in that. I came here to let you out. There’s something I want you to see.”
As if summoned telepathically, Esme and Kalon’s clones entered and unlocked our cell. Esme’s double put a pair of charmed cuffs on me, just to be on the safe side, and Kalon’s slapped a pair of solid steel ones on Tristan that he wouldn’t be able to break out of. I didn’t need any explanation, but it did give me a bit of comfort—there was paranoia involved, and they were willing to take even the most useless of precautions against me, just to be on the safe side. I was still a threat, in a sense, at least in their minds… I would’ve been a fool to tell them otherwise, wishing we could find a way to prove them right, instead. Hrista led our odd pack outside. As soon as my feet touched the grass, dew tickling my toes, I could tell something was different.
“L
ook up,” the Valkyrie said.
We did. From inside the cell, our view of the sky had been obscured. But out here, we could see it clearly, and it caused my stomach to shrink into something small and painful. “No… What is that?” I managed, my throat suddenly dry.
“The first sign of change,” she replied. “You see, Unending, Tristan… I don’t give a crap about what you or your people will want to do to me. I have started something here. You cannot stop it. It’s something otherworldly and of my own making. It’s irrefutable and undeniable. It’s absolute and infinitely better than whatever the universe threw together.”
Red and green rippled across the night sky, swallowing the half-moon and the night sky. Flashes of white burst here and there, like ghostly thunder beyond a sheet of multicolored clouds. It wasn’t normal.
The Shade’s sky had always been a spell of night, courtesy of the witches. But something else had taken over. Something had changed it. Something awful.
“What the hell did you do?” Tristan mumbled, his lower lip trembling. There was horror in his eyes. He didn’t need to know what that celestial phenomenon was in order to realize it wasn’t supposed to happen.
“I am a creator, Tristan,” Hrista said, beaming with pride. “I have created, and now… all the realms will bow before me. But not before I topple their leaders, of course. Consider this,” she motioned around us, “the hors d’oeuvre, I think you call them. The appetizer. The first stage of a cute little dinner party I’m throwing. The theme of the night is—”
“Chaos.” I finished her sentence for her.
It was clear now. The sky. The Shade takeover. The clones. The release of the World Crusher. I had a full picture of what Hrista was doing, and “terrified” did not even begin to cover how I felt. Tristan squeezed my hand again. This time, there was fear in his eyes. Confusion. Grief.
I understood that my time to mope had come to an end. My husband was a strong man and a fearless vampire. But I was the Unending. Hrista may have taken my body, but the spirit is still mine, bottled in this sack of meat and bones or not. I owed it to him to stay strong. There were weak spots. Regardless of how the rest of her plan unfolded, I could still find the right buttons to push.
And I would push. I would push until I heard Hrista scream.
Sofia
Laurel, Missa, and Ida were full of surprises. It became obvious when they guided us across the entire island and deep into the bowels of the fake Black Heights. Derek and I were still careful and ever alert, but we took comfort in having Haldor and Regine on our side. They’d bound the clones’ hands with Purgatory magic—thin strands of darkness that could not be broken by anyone other than those who had cast them.
We had gone well past the known residences of the dragon clones. The upper cave system of the mountains had been left behind a while back. I checked my wristwatch, though I wasn’t sure why. I had not recorded our entry time, and neither had Derek.
“How much deeper?” I asked.
The corridor ahead tightened some more, its eerily polished walls closing in. I’d thought I’d learned our beloved island by heart, yet this place proved that I had forgotten some parts of it. According to Laurel, at least, the Black Heights and their chambers had been made identical to the original from back home. “We’re almost there,” she said, leading the way. Missa and Ida were compelled to line up behind her, followed by me and Derek, then Haldor and Regine.
It was growing colder, the temperature reaching near freezing. As a vampire, it didn’t bother me, but I still experienced the chills, my skin tightening as I watched my breath flower into playful steam clouds in front of me.
“And what is it exactly that you’re going to show us?” Derek replied. “Forgive our distrust, but your people have done nothing but harm.”
Ida chuckled. “I completely agree. We dared to demand independence and… well, here we are. Left behind to rot in this place.”
“I could describe it,” Laurel said, “but it’s better if I show you. It saves me the additional explanations. You’ll have plenty of questions, no doubt.”
Haldor grunted behind us. “How come I never made it down here?”
“Oh, there are places in The Shade that not even the Berserkers know about. Some clone-made, others from the original designs. Hrista didn’t want anyone to know about the lower tunnels,” Laurel said. “The only Berserker who knew about them was destroyed by her blade. He’s one of your shadow hounds now.”
I looked over my shoulder and I recognized Haldor’s expression. Shock and grief. Unmistakable, even for an entity of Purgatory. “I suppose you don’t know who your shadow hounds are?” I muttered.
“No. They lose any form of individuality when their Aesir are destroyed,” he said. “I suppose whoever he was, Hrista brought him over first, holding his Aesir hostage, much like she did with Brandon’s Hammer. Only, in his case, there was no Haldor to hinder her evil plan.”
“Do you always talk about yourself in the third person?” Regine retorted.
I could almost feel his eyes rolling. “Do you always insert yourself into conversations where you do not belong?” Haldor was a heavy hitter, clearly. Regine had found her match, but that didn’t seem to bother her. On the contrary, she enjoyed the occasional jab, just to remind us that the Berserkers and the Valkyries were literal opposites.
“Just a little bit more,” Laurel said from the darkness ahead. It swallowed Ida and Missa next. By the time we caught up with them, the tunnel had begun to widen again, a distant light casting shadows against the amber-colored walls. I ran my fingers over the surface, trying to understand how this place had been made.
“Magic?” I asked Derek, but he responded with a shrug. “It’s strange. I could swear it’s actual amber.”
“It is,” Laurel replied, slightly amused. “Hrista had her Berserkers scan the entire island and study its depths, too. They came across this place.” The fact that the clones and Hrista knew more about our world than even we did wasn’t the greatest shock. They were already aware of Astra’s genetic makeup as a threat to the disgraced Valkyrie, and there was probably more in their notes on top of that. “Some of the first dragons who came to The Shade made these lower tunnels. They told absolutely no one, and they used amber to mark this as their turf. Fire dragons. So, if ice dragons accidentally stumbled upon these tunnels, they would know to stay out.”
I cleared my throat, the chalky dust in the air making it harder for me to breathe. “It irks me that you know more about my home than I do.”
“Oh, we are just curious to a fault,” Ida giggled. “Besides, the dragon clones, as you call them, they were never that territorial. The rest of us could go up the mountains of these Black Heights freely. The caves, too. It’s how Laurel found this place.”
Finally, we reached the end of the tunnel, and my blood chilled—a strange reaction to a sense of anticipation, I figured. This couldn’t be a trap, that much was clear. The enemies were gone, and we had a Berserker and a Valkyrie with us. On top of that, the comms worked, so we could always call for help. No, this was real, and it was happening, and I dreaded learning the truth. We obviously needed it, yet a part of me didn’t wish to know it. A childish way of hiding from the inevitable, I suppose.
“Here we are.” Laurel’s words preceded the view.
Ida and Missa stepped aside, just in time for Derek and me to step into the giant cave bubble. It had been carved into a cylindrical form, its walls also covered with a thick coat of amber. The floors were the black stone of the mountains themselves, and a peculiar light glowed from below. Only then did I see where we stood—on the lip of a deep chasm, at the bottom of which we could see about twenty odd-looking tanks. They resembled the oxygen tanks used by firefighters in the Earthly dimension but made of glass.
“What the…” my voice trailed off as my husband caught my wrist and held me back. I hadn’t even realized that I was still walking, nearly falling over the edge and into the chasm. I would easily
have broken something if I had fallen to the bottom.
“Careful, my love,” he whispered in my ear and pressed his lips against my temple for a second. I smelled his fear then. Sharp and heavy, much like mine, as we both looked down and saw the mingle of shimmering white and sickening black masses that seemed to wrestle one another inside each of the glass tanks. That was what illuminated the entire chamber. The war between light and darkness enclosed below.
“What the heck are those?” Regine gasped, her eyes widening as she followed our gaze. “That… crap, Haldor, look!”
“How is that even possible?!” The Berserker was equally baffled, and I had no idea what we were dealing with. I only knew that the dread I’d carried with me into this place had now grown into something much uglier and more difficult to control.
Laurel turned around to face us. “Unbeknownst to anyone, Hrista found a way to embed death magic into Purgatory magic. I reckon it had something to do with her innate ability to wield light and darkness alike. It helped her fuse the two together with a thread of Hermessi energy. The Spirit Bender had that harvested before the war.”
“What are those things?!” I asked, urgency sharpening my voice. I was close to screaming, and my blood pumped so fast, my flesh felt like it had caught fire despite the freezing cold.
“They’re called world seeds,” Laurel said. “Hrista used some seriously awful magic to bind those elements together. But she needed Kedra’s catalyst to make each tank into a viable world-maker.” Upon noticing my confused expression, she briefly explained what Kedra’s catalyst was, and my stomach just… dropped as the dots connected in my mind. Astra had told us about the black witch before—Hrista had mentioned her to them upon their first meeting just before the Flip. This was the same Kedra. My head hurt…
A Shade of Vampire 91: A Gate of Light Page 22