A Sea of Broken Glass Page 6
Bran resisted the urge to groan. “What now?”
“I ran into some demons.” Aeron jaw tightened. “I killed them, but I can’t be sure they are the only ones. What do you want me to do?”
Bran rubbed at the stubble coating his jaw. “You’ll have to catch Ris and Michel before they reach the Mining Outpost. Head to Hader’s Junction. Meet them there and find another way to get to Raven’s Keep.”
“Got it. Be careful, Bran.” Aeron’s face disappeared as the crystal darkened.
“Ruin can’t be far away,” Cre said. “Not if they planned on Ris escaping and then recapturing her.”
“True.” Bran closed his eyes, trying to think of where Ruin might spring a trap. “They’re headed to Easton so Ruin will have to attack somewhere before they reach town.”
Cre shook his head. “It’s too close to the ocean. Ruin would be more likely to attack when they head toward the Outpost.”
Bran chewed on his fingernails. Cre had a good point. Demons avoided the ocean because of the traces of saltwater in the air. “Then we should try to meet up with Michel and Ris in Hader’s Junction.”
“We might not be able to catch up to them,” Cre warned.
“I know.” Bran’s hands curled into fists. “But what else are we going to do?”
Cre pressed his lips together. “You can find Ris anytime you want with the bond. We should hunt for Ruin between Easton and Hadar’s Junction. We need to stop her before she gets to Ris.”
Bran sighed and reluctantly nodded his assent. He followed Cre from the jail and into the warm spring afternoon. Nothing had changed with the revelation that Tolbert was possessed and that Ruin hunted Ris. She had always been in danger. Her bloodline meant the Darkness would seek her out and try to entrap her, just as he had the Lady.
Yet, everything had changed. Ris was being hunted. Bran wasn’t by her side. She didn’t have her Cloak or Shield to keep her safe. The best way Bran could protect her would be to hunt her hunters. He closed his eyes. No matter how fast he flew, he wouldn’t be able to catch up with Ris on the train.
Void take it, why did it have to be Ruin hunting Ris? He steeled his heart. Ruin was no longer his wife. Aris had died the moment she accepted the Darkness and became Ruin.
He took a deep breath and drew on his magic, wrapping it around himself in a feathery caress of shadow and wind. His bones shifted as his body shrunk and he changed into his raven form. He flapped his wings until he lifted into the air, drifting on currents of wind. Fear lent his wings strength. He hunted his past as he prayed for his future.
06
My prison closes in. Tighter and tighter until I cannot breathe. Chained to the Heart by threads of Darkness. I must find a way to escape. To restore the balance. The Darkness whispers to me. Tells me there is no hope. Promises me freedom. How did I ever believe his lies?
~Excerpt from “The Lady and the Darkness” as translated by Sir Gwilam Cavanaugh
Michel shook me awake. It took a second for my sleep-muddled thoughts to catch up. The clatter of the train reminded me where we were.
“We need to go.” Michel stuffed things into my satchel. “We picked up some demons at the last stop.”
A frisson of fear set my hands to shaking.
Demons, nightmares, and Darkness hunted me.
“Where are we going to go?” I asked.
Michel handed me my satchel. “We’ll have to jump off.”
Trees passed outside the window in a blur. “And go where?”
“Easton.” Michel pulled the door to the compartment open and peered into the passageway.
“Won’t there be demons there, too?” I wrapped my greatcoat tighter and slung the satchel over my shoulder.
“Not many. Too much salt water in the air.”
“That won’t keep them away for long,” I replied.
“We won’t need long.” Michel looked over his shoulder at me. “The hallway is clear. Let’s go.”
He led me to the space between carriages and outside. Wind whipped my hair into my face and the ground rushed by, visible between the grate that served as a connection between the train cars.
I closed my eyes for a moment and touched the magic that held the world together. Dissonance in the song reverberated down the threads, a telltale sign of demons nearby. “They’re behind“.
“Behind is better than ahead.” Michel dashed forward, and I followed.
We worked our way between passengers, and then trunks and crates the closer we got to the rear of the train.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and my skin pebbled in warning. “Michel—”
“We’re almost there.”
A final rush through the last carriage, and we arrived at the caboose. The crewmen gave us a startled look when Michel slammed the door closed and threw the lock.
“Ya can’t be in here.” A bear-like man glared at us, his head nearly brushing the roof of the car. A workman, by his appearance, probably one of the men responsible for loading and unloading the luggage.
Michel pointed to the silver pin on his collar. “We’re getting off.”
The man snorted. “That’s suicide.”
“Can it, Hamish.” A smaller man laid his hand on the giant’s arm. “If the paladin wants off, let ‘em off. Godwin’s Gauntlet is coming up. Train’ll be slow enough for ‘em to jump.”
Hamish tugged at his beard. “It’s on yer head, Merl.”
The smaller man shrugged. “Come on, I’ll let ye out the back.”
“Trouble is following us,” Michel warned.
Hamish picked up a wrench half as long as I was tall. “Doubting they’ll mess with Bessie here, but I take yer meaning.”
The brakes on the train squealed.
“That’s yer chance.” Merl slid the rear door of the caboose open.
The strong scent of decay filled my nose. Someone or something pounded on the locked door. My hands slicked with sweat and my heart kicked up its pace.
I peered over the edge and gulped. A lump of fear lodged itself in my throat as I carefully climbed down the ladder. I hung from the back of the train, the rails passing in a slow blur below me. Sparks flew from the iron wheels as the brakes whined. Light, what was I doing? This was insane!
“You’ll have ta let go of the ladder,” Merl called.
I nodded my understanding but found it hard to peel my fingers from the cool metal as my feet dangled over the moving tracks. My breath locked itself in my lungs, and I wanted to scramble my way back up into the safety of the train regardless of what waited there.
“On three,” Michel shouted. “One. Two. Three! ”
I let go, and the unforgiving earth rushed up to meet me. My hip and shoulder took most of the impact. I lay in a heap for a moment assessing the damage and wove a bit of healing magic to take away the worst of the pain. I couldn’t afford to do more. Not with so much uncertainty ahead of us. I would need every speck of my magic if it came to a fight with demons.
Michel climbed down the short ladder off the back of the caboose and hung for a moment before dropping from the train. He rolled to his feet, then jogged to where I sat on the tracks.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I think so.” The train disappeared around the curve of the mountain.
“Let’s go.” Michel helped me to stand.
The rails threaded between towering spruces and hemlocks. Michel led us down the steep embankment and into the forest. Moss coated the trunks and dangled thick fingers from the branches, brushing our heads as we passed. Dense ferns threatened to swallow us as I followed Michel down an unseen path toward the ocean.
An inhuman scream shattered the silence, making the hair on my arms stand on end and my stomach clench. The realization that the demons had somehow made it off the train settled over me like a shroud. Light, I prayed the men in the caboose were all right. Helping me might have been a death sentence.
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br /> The hope of escape died as the demons closed in. Where could we go? Easton was still too far away and the ocean nowhere in sight.
“Void take it.” Michel sped up to a near run.
“How much further is it?”
Michel shook his head. His silence spoke volumes.
More than the damp cold of a foggy day made me shiver as we plunged recklessly forward. The air grew oppressive. Sibilant whispers tugged at the edge of my awareness, the Darkness taunting me with the knowledge that I couldn’t escape. The shadows of the forest grew thicker, stretching hungry fingers toward us as we passed. I refused to give up hope. We would make it. We had to.
“They’re close,” I said, breathless from the run.
Michel pointed toward an opening in the trees. “So are we.”
The tree line ended abruptly at a crumbling cliff. A narrow path worked its way down to the beach, parts barely wide enough for us to walk.
Another savage scream cut through the air, closer than before.
Terror climbed up from my stomach and lodged itself in my throat. I scrambled down as fast as I could, bits of sand and rock tumbling ahead of me. I greeted the bottom with a sigh of relief, a temporary sensation that ended with another hair-raising screech.
Water-worn rocks the size of my fist and driftwood as large as a horse covered the beach. I carefully picked my way toward the waves, praying we would make it before the demons arrived. I locked my eyes on my feet and hoped I wouldn’t break a leg on the treacherous footing.
“Void take it,” Michel grumbled.
The demons had made it to the bottom of the path. Their red eyes glowed eerily from the wisps of darkness that collected around them, hiding their forms.
The water was too far away. We wouldn’t reach it in time.
“Hurry,” Michel commanded.
The constant roar of waves was a beacon of hope, but it felt like I had miles to go when I tripped, and the world went white for a split-second as my head collided with a rock. My ears rang. The coppery tang of blood filled my mouth. Something warm and wet ran down the side of my face. I worked my way onto my hands and knees, forcing myself to stand.
Michel steadied me. “Are you all right?”
The ground tilted first one way and then the other as my head spun. “I’m not sure.”
“Into the water.” He gave me a push to get me moving.
I stumbled forward, barely able to stay upright. One step. Two. My knees shook with the effort until at last icy water swirled around my calves.
Michel joined me, rapier in one hand, and a revolver in the other. Blue flames writhed along the blade of his sword as he stood between me and the demons. His magic shredded the shadows that hid them, revealing their true form.
My heart nearly stopped when I counted seven of the creatures. Their twisted bodies vaguely resembled a human in that they had two arms, two legs, and a head; but they moved with the smooth grace of a hunting cat. Tattered remains of clothes hung from their lanky frames, and the remnants of shoes wrapped around their ankles. Their hands were grotesque with exceptionally long fingers that ended in black, hooked claws.
A shudder ran through me when I locked eyes with one of them. It grinned, its mouth a lipless gash in a pale face that revealed row upon row of razor-sharp teeth. Its forked tongue flicked out to taste the air, and its smile grew wider, nearly splitting its face in two. Serpent-like eyes held mine. I felt like a mouse caught in a snake’s deadly gaze.
Four of the demons spread out in front of Michel. His blade darted through the air, leaving a trail of blue fire in its wake.
The other three made their way closer to me, their movement sinuous and deadly. They hissed when their bare feet touched the water, and the scent of burning flesh filled my nose. They howled in frustration, pacing along the water’s edge, waiting for me to come within reach. I stepped deeper into the ocean and let it swirl around my hips.
A wave crashed over my head, yanking me under. I fought the pull of it as it tried to drag me out to sea. The satchel weighed me down, tugging me deeper underwater. My lungs burned with the need to breathe, but I didn’t dare open my mouth. There was no way to tell which way was up and which was down. The wave threw me forward, and I landed in a heap on the rocky shore, heaving in ragged breaths as I coughed out sea water.
My body resisted when I tried to stand; my limbs quaked from the effort, and my head pounded from hitting it earlier. I made it to my knees, but no further.
Screams filled the air. No longer the screams of a creature hunting, but cries of pain. Tentacles of salt water twisted in the air around Michel, whipping and writhing toward the demons. Cellos and violins filled my mind as he wove his magic.
The demon in front of me watched as Michel tossed its companions into the waves. Burning rot tickled my nose as the creatures died. The remaining demon turned its glare back at me as if I were the one causing the waves to shape themselves.
I scrambled backward, crab-like, the satchel’s strap digging into my neck and shoulder. The waves licked at my fingers, their cold touch a beacon of hope. The creature lowered itself onto its hands, its mouth open wide. More pain-filled howls rose from my left. I didn’t dare risk taking my eyes from the demon that stalked me.
I grabbed onto my magic, but didn’t know what I would do with it. It was for healing, not harming, but I had to do something. Perhaps I could use my healer’s fire to destroy the demon much like I would burn away its poison in a human victim?
The song borne of my magic rose, a blend of brassy trumpet notes which I wove around the oily corruption that infected the demon, then in a flash of fire I set it ablaze.
The demon’s red eyes went wide in shock before its skin puckered and blistered. It shrieked, its clawed fingers leaving shadowy furrows in its skin. Then, it exploded in a shower of stinking, wet ash.
Light, it worked. Relief washed through me. I hadn’t thought it would actually do anything.
Michel pushed his rapier through the chest of the last demon. It screamed, and with a pop it disintegrated. He slumped to his knees, using his blade to hold himself upright. His eyes met mine before they rolled up and he fell onto his side.
I crawled to him and checked for a pulse. The steady beat thudded against my fingertips. Why had he collapsed? Something was wrong. I fumbled with the buttons on his waistcoat, and he groaned as I tugged at the fabric. Red spread in a slow stain across the pale linen. Pulling the shirt away from his shoulder revealed four puncture wounds surrounded by black streaks.
I laid a hand on his forehead. Fever raged beneath his skin in a futile effort to burn away the lethal poison that filled his blood.
A hysteric laugh bubbled up and out of me. I pressed my shaking hands to my face. We’d survived the attack. I had no idea how, but despite that, Michel still might end up dying from demon poison if I couldn’t heal him.
“Stupid girl, did you really think you could get away from me?” a harsh, feminine voice asked.
The hair on my arms stood on end. I frantically searched the beach for the newest threat.
A woman stepped out of a wrinkle of shadow and magic. Her hard, cruel eyes made me want to curl into a ball. Darkness crawled over her skin in a web of fine lines that marred her features.
“What are you?” I held my ground, shielding Michel. My shaking hands tightened into fists. I might not be able to do much, but I would do everything I could.
She glided closer, not bothered by the uneven beach. “Not what, but who. Who am I?”
Icy fingers of terror slithered through my veins, a living thing that strangled me with its strength. “Who are you?”
“Ruin,” she purred. “I am what you will become once the Darkness embraces you.”
“Never.” I stooped and grabbed Michel’s fallen pistol. Aiming it, I squeezed the trigger. A crack and a flash followed by the tang of gunpowder as a cloud of sulphuric smoke filled the air between us. I held my breat
h as the haze cleared to reveal Ruin still standing, a vicious smile on her lips while black blood oozed from an apple-sized hole in her chest.
“Oh, you want to play, do you?” she sneered.
My vision blurred for a split-second as Ruin disappeared and reappeared on my left. Unharmed. The hole in her chest gone.
Light, how was I going to kill her?
I dropped the pistol and summoned my magic.
Ruin stalked toward me and stopped just out of arm’s reach. “The Darkness has plans for you, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun first.”
Desperation lent me the strength to resist. I refused to become a tool for the Darkness.
Ruin reached for the collar of my jacket. I wrapped my hands around her wrists, driving my magic into the twisted woman. What had worked on the demon, might work on her.
She laughed and dragged me close, her fetid breath washing over my face. “Nice try.”
I hung on, searching for a hold on the corruption that filled her. It slithered and slid out of reach.
“What’s in that pretty head of yours?” Ruin brushed chill lips over my neck and inhaled.
Memories assaulted me. Straps on my wrists. Cold knives and hot blood. A tongue tracing red rivulets across my skin. The crunch of bone and blinding white pain. Whispered words, soft as a lover’s, followed by my soul-rending screams.
Violation after violation rose to the surface of my mind. I shook under the onslaught. Tears streaked my face as my body curled around itself. My mind, stripped of its defenses, was laid bare. Picked apart, bit by bit, and forced to offer up all my worst memories. How could I fight something that I couldn’t see?
“Your head holds such lovely thoughts. I particularly like this one.”
Inquisitor Tolbert’s faced loomed in my vision. It took all my effort to push away the memory, to shut it down and block it out. I refused to relive it. Jagged knives of pain stabbed through me as Ruin tried to wrench the memory back into the forefront of my thoughts.
I dug deep into my magic, burrowed down into my core, and pulled the fire from the depths of my soul. Magic raged, raw and primal, as it clambered for release. A cacophony of song, full of sharp notes. My blood boiled, and my tears turned to steam. I gripped Ruin’s wrists and pushed my wildfire into her soul.