Chapter Eleven
Farren
“I hope so,” I reply.
“That’s not even considering the fact that you’re going to have to somehow gain access to the realm, and that wasn’t easy before it was turned into a hunting ground. The realm was closed so that the horrors that roam here could not escape and infect any other realm.”
I nod, “We can handle all of that.”
This feels important, it’s something that I have to do. More than anything else at the moment. Saving these people who have endured for so long is what I need to do.
This needs to become a priority.
That may mean that the Dragon Realm is going to have to wait, and if that’s the case, then so be it.
I’ve changed fate before, I’m clearly not good at doing as I’m told, and although I know that the Dragon Realm, the remaining two princes, and the key fragment are incredibly important.
This is on a time crunch. I have this horrible churning feeling in my gut.
The feeling, and my intuition, prompt me to ask, “There’s more, isn’t there? What happens to the realm if we don’t make it in time and you all die?”
“H-how did you . . .” Ignatius trails off. “It can’t be. She was right.”
“Who was right?” Zev asks.
There’s an urgency in his voice as he clutches the bars and looks at me intently, “Listen to me really closely, this is extremely important.
In the throne room, on the second floor of the castle, there is a door that leads to the King's private chambers. If you go through them, find his office, and in his office, there is a secret entrance to his treasury. You must get the Suil Ha Falamh, you must get it before you come and free us.”
I nod, “It will help me free you?”
He nods, “Yes. You will know it when you see it, but before you do that, you are going to need my grimoire to give you the best chances possible. I live on the edge of the forest that surrounds the castle. Only a few miles away. It’s the only house this close to the castle, and it’s called Eolas.”
I nod, “Done. You didn’t answer my question.”
“If you do not succeed in freeing us, then this realm dies a true death. Taking with it any creatures that may have survived, taking with it an aeons-long history, and freeing things that should never be free.” He pauses, as if he’s unsure whether to say the next part.
Rolo interrupts, “They should know. If they don’t succeed, then at least they may be able to prepare and prolong the inevitable.”
Well, that sounds ominous.
Ignatius nods, sighing heavily. He continues, “Very well. If you do not succeed, if we finally succumb to our fate, and this realm dies, then the balance will be thrown back into the Dark.”
My eyes widen. Hades has literally just told us about how important the balance is and how it’s currently balanced on a knife's edge. I don’t believe in coincidences.
“Shit,” Zev curses, as the gravity of the situation settles over us both.
Ignatius nods, “Well said.”
“We will prepare and get to you as soon as possible. We will not let the balance be tipped either way,” Zev promises.
I nod vehemently, agreeing, “We’ll save you. I’ll get your grimoire, and the Fal-thingy and we’ll come and get you and save the realm.” I pause, “Fuck, saving a realm sounds like a pretty impossible task.”
Ignatius nods, “It is not a small task and not a simple one either. However, you are so much more than you think you are.” His eyes glow, “You all are. Your men and you are our only chance.”
“My men?” I question and then shake my head.
There’s no time to question how he knows about my men, or what he means or several other questions that I now have because he’s thrown a lot at me.
There’s just no time. So instead of questioning him, I say, “You know what, never mind. It’s not important right now.
What is the realm called? If we know that, then hopefully we should be able to find out how to get into the realm. ”
Ignatius pulls an unimpressed face, “Unless, of course, the gods have destroyed all knowledge of it.”
“Wow, the more I learn about the gods, the less impressed I am, and the more inclined I am to stay as far away from them as I possibly can,” I mutter.
“Same,” Zev agrees.
Ignatius frowns, “But . . .” he stops himself, understanding lights his expression, “Never mind. It’s worth a shot, I suppose.
I don’t know how else you’re going to find us.
” His eyes widen as he obviously remembers something, “There is a book that is in your realm, it’s extremely old, and should be extremely well guarded, but of course, we all know that the truth is very often not as well guarded as it should be, so that it gets forgotten with time. ”
“Our realm?” Zev asks. “How do you know what realm we’re from?”
Ignatius' eyes twinkle with knowledge, and in a move that strangely reminds me of Monty, he just smirks and breezes past Zev’s question, not even hinting at an answer.
“If you can find the book, that should give you a small amount of information about where we are. It’s not the whole truth.
In fact, it barely scratches the surface of what this realm is, but it should have enough information in it to at least get you here.
I’m afraid I have no idea how you’re going to get in.
It’s very unlikely that the spells and wards have weakened that much.
In fact, I’m certain that they haven’t because if they had, then the horrors that stalk this realm would be in yours,” Ignatius explains.
“Okay, so find the book, but don’t believe everything in it?” I question.
Ignatius nods, “Yes. Not everything is as it seems.”
“Understood,” Zev nods. “What’s the book called, and what realm are we looking for?”
“The book is called Leabhar Nam Marbh,” Ignatius replies.
I frown. I recognise that name. Why the hell do I recognise the name of the book? No matter how hard I try to think, I can’t remember and dismiss the thought for now. Before Ignatius can carry on speaking and tell us what the realm he is in is called, a sound makes my blood run cold.
A laugh echoes from the cells above. I stiffen.
No, what is he doing here?
He can’t be here. I killed him.
“Farren, what’s wrong?” Zev asks, confusion crossing his features at my sudden change in demeanour.
It’s too late, the laughter gets louder, my gaze connects with an extremely concerned Ignatius, and he mouths something that I can’t make out through my panic.
Black envelops my vision, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Even before I open my eyes, I know where I am.
“Where are we?” Zev questions.
“The cell,” I say, my voice void of all emotion.
Zev looks at me with panic in his eyes, “It’s okay, Farren, I can get us out of here.”
“Little Mouse,” Jomeial’s voice sings jovially through the cells. “Are you ready to play? I think we’ll slice and bleed you for a bit longer today. Maybe we should take one of your other fingers? We can’t let Dagon have all the fun after all.”
Jomeial’s power lashes out even though he’s not in sight yet, and I let loose the tiniest hiss of pain before I bite it back as hundreds of slices crisscross my body.
He may not slice my clothes, but blood is quickly soaking through them.
He’s clearly decided to take a page out of Dagon’s playbook.
That alone should stop the tendrils of this nightmare from digging any deeper.
Jomeial would never use Dagon’s tricks, not in the awake world. That realisation is not enough though.
“Farren,” Zev’s panicked voice echoes around the small cell.
Looking into his horrified gaze, I smile gently, “You don’t need to see this.” Putting power into my words, I add, “Wake up!”
His eyes widen, but he’s no match for my magic as it propels him back into the awake world.
I try to follow him, but it’s no good. The nightmare has fully got its claws into me, and I find that I can’t reach my magic anymore.
Endure.
I thought that word for some reason recently. I don’t remember why, but that’s what I need to do now.
Endure.
Zev
I gasp, sitting up straight and looking around Hades' living room, confused.
How the fuck did she do that?
She shouldn’t be able to kick me out. No one has ever been able to kick me out, and she did it with such ease. I turn to look at her, hoping to find her awake, but she’s not. She’s still fast asleep, her features tight with pain.
This is really fucking bad.
Bile rises in my throat as the image of her blood-soaked form floods my mind. She just stood there. After that first tiny gasp, she didn’t react at all. Even when she spoke to me, there was no sign that she was in pain at all.
Moving, I gently shake her, and then move the hair out of her face, “Farren? Farren! You need to wake up.”
“What’s going on?” Loki asks sleepily, looking down at Farren, who is still sleeping on his chest.
I quickly explain the situation, and Loki’s eyes fill with horror and panic as well.
“Fuck. Are you supposed to wake someone having a nightmare? Isn’t that bad?” Loki asks me.
“It can be, but the alternative is to leave her there, thinking that it’s real. The dream was strong enough that it was causing her pain, she’s feeling it all again.”
“Shit, we need to get her out,” Rival says, having woken up because Loki and I aren’t exactly being quiet in our panic.
“I can’t get back in. She’s somehow managed to block me,” I tell him.
“There’s got to be something that we can do?” Kill asks, coming closer with Storm and Mayhem, all of them watching Farren closely.
“The best I can think to do is to wake her as carefully as possible,” Hades suggests.
Khaos frowns, “There is a chance that she’s not going to realise that she’s awake if we do manage to wake her up. The dream could follow her.”
“Which means that we’re going to have to be prepared for her to come out fighting,” Reaper says, his eyes flashing to Ryu’s. “This isn’t going to be easy.”
“Storm managed to get through to her in the cabin,” Loki starts, “maybe he can get through to her again?”
“We’ll try to wake her gently, and then I’ll piss her off by ordering her to wake up,” Storm suggests. “She really does hate being told what to do.”
I gently shake her again, “Farren, you need to wake up. You’re not there. It’s not real.”
I’m hoping that some of my words will penetrate through to her, but the dream was so intense that I really doubt that’s the case. I’m still going to try though.
It doesn’t work, and she doesn’t stir at all.
“This isn’t working,” Reaper says, his eyes Ryu’s, and I know that they are both watching closely.
I feel a vision coming on, and before my eyesight has cleared properly, I’m talking.
“We need to wake her up now, it’s about to get so much worse,” I tell them urgently.
“Farren! Wake up, that’s an order,” Storm yells firmly.
It makes no difference, and as he opens his mouth to do it again, she screams.
We’re too late.
Farren’s back arches, as her expression contorts into pure pain, and another scream tears through the room, bouncing off the walls and filling me with panic.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Rival curses as his hands hover over the top of her, desperately wanting to help but not knowing how to.
Her arms fling out, another scream tearing free before it ends in a whimper of pain.
“She’s reliving her torture,” Loki mutters, his eyes flooding with emotions.
“You need to move away from her. If she hurts you, she’s going to be beside herself,” Storm says.
Loki, Rival, and I reluctantly move out of striking range, as Poca and Meri both try to get closer to her and then whine in distress as they realise that they are unable to.
Her screams of pain get more intense, and we stand there helplessly.
As if the situation isn’t bad enough, her magic chooses that moment to get involved.
We already know that the cell that she was in locked down her magic so that she didn’t have access to it, but she’s not actually there right now, so her magic is reacting as it would if she were there, and we’re the ones who are closest to her.