Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
No. No, not here.
But there was no mistaking that voice—it would haunt her for the rest of her life. Gooseflesh broke over Lia’s skin as terror seized her throat. Her eyes drifted to where the voice had called, the sickeningly sweet melody cloying at her.
Discipline binds the heart,
Patience festers like mold.
To give is to take,
To take is to give,
A world reborn through suffering.
One blue orb glowed from the ceiling, the other filled with ruined, black-bloodied flesh. The beast had dug its claws into the sheetrock.
This is a pleasant surprise. It tilted its head. I must thank you for bringing me here.
Her blood. Just as her blood alone had sent the gremlin away, it had brought this nightmare back to Earth when mixed in the fray.
A gift, twisted into a curse.
I have always wanted to see Earth, the creature continued in her mind. Father had told me such wonderful stories. Though much seems to have changed.
Dread pooled like oil, sticking to every thought to paint her with guilt and shame. But there wasn’t time for that. Not when claws dragged over the ceiling. When heavy breathing broke the silence.
When her family slumbered down the hall.
Stop thinking, Terranth and Kayce had said. Let your body react.
How could she not think about her cat missing, her brother down the hall—
Lia dove for the bedside table and rolled to stand. Light flourished, the pen shifting into a blade and casting the room in a prism of colors. Unearthly, the creature’s eyes reflected it, narrowing with a growl.
“This world isn’t yours,” she said, far braver than she felt. “You’ll have to fight me for it.” Perhaps if she faked it, she would make it true. But the words rang hollow, even to her.
Light, girlish laughter filled the room. You can’t be so na?ve, little Lia.
Such a sneer on her preferred name made her want to run into the closet. The creature’s claws retracted, its body flowing like a cat’s to land on its feet. Lia tried not to dwell on the disquieting knowledge that it knew her—knew her well. And failed.
He will soon destroy the barriers between Earth and the Emperium. He will release power, allow creation and destruction even here. All stories will become one. The Emperium, the precious spheres—he will glutton himself on the endless stores of creativity.
Its father, its family. Realization hit Lia like a towering wave, dread sweeping to consume her. It belonged to Malum.
“That’s a lie,” Lia spat. “The Devourer is gone, and his Seekers would destroy this world, all worlds, for their own gain.”
These people who followed Malum’s ghost—workers for ImaginX and backstabbers like the Flameheart who murdered her papa—didn’t care who they cut down in their path. So long as they absolved their own greed.
Widening her stance, Lia shifted the sword. “You would devour everything.”
The nightmare crouched, its tail flicking slowly. Sizing her up. It is unfortunate you will not see it.
A bone-chilling scream sliced the air before the beast launched at Lia, careful to avoid the sword. It slashed and snapped within inches of her face, but she dipped to the side. The two tumbled to the floor.
Pain barked up her spine, her limbs twisting. Light flared, and Lia pushed against the creature, its claw snatching at the air. It grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked. She yelped, tears springing to her eyes as she tore free. Several copper curls remained in its grip.
The creature snarled, tossing the strands aside, and watched while Lia scrambled up, parrying its next strike with her sword.
“Lia?” a voice called from the hall.
“Marcus, stay out!” Lia screamed before dodging another swipe. She prayed he’d listen this time.
Her pen flared once more, shifting into an axe, the pick at the back as sharp as the edge on the front. Kayce would have been proud. She swung, the light of stars whistling through the air toward the creature’s head.
It hissed and grabbed her arm, halting the swing before yanking Lia to the side. She careened into a bookcase, shelves breaking and books raining.
Oh, this thing was definitely dead.
Before Lia could drag herself out of the mess, the nightmare lunged—and its teeth sunk into her thigh. She screamed, muscle and tissue ripping apart. Blood spilled.
You are mine. Its eye glowed as scarlet welled over yellowed daggers. I will take everything!
Lia screeched against the pain, swinging the pick of the axe down into the beast’s hunched back.
It wailed, releasing her leg. Black blood ran over its shoulders.
It coated the axe, which shifted at the next thought into a pen again.
Leo had needed to write with the dragon’s blood to Transcribe it back to its sphere.
She had no idea what words he’d written to do it—
But Lia did not need to.
She slammed the pen into the gushing wound at her thigh, the black blood burning as it met her own. Light enveloped the room, the creature twisting as the fringes of its being started to smolder and curl and shrink like burning paper.
When the barriers crumble and Malum is freed, daughter of flame, it cried with chaotic dissonance, torn between male and female, old and young, there will be no place in all the realms you can hide. The hunter is coming.
Flames engulfed the nightmare until only smoke lingered. Even the blood on Lia’s pen and in her wound sizzled out of existence. If only the same could be said of her fear.
The Seekers were not only hungry for power; they wanted a leader. Not one to be like Malum. But to return him from exile.
“Lia?” Marcus’s voice was soft, unsettled. “Are you all right?”
She took a shuddering breath, wincing. There was no making light of this. No way to spin it so it seemed like she was fine. Lia bit back a whimper at her leg, blood flowing steadily from the bite. She was growing tired of almost being made a meal.
Raising her head, she took in the books and broken shelves strewn across the floor. The nightstand lay in ruins, crushed during the fight. The lamp lay shattered next to it. Sheetrock hung from the ceiling in splintered chunks. Claw marks gouged the floor.
At Lia’s prolonged silence, Marcus opened the door. His eyes darted over the wreckage before landing on his sister. He paled at the sight of her. “What happened?”
The next words burned like bile. But they needed to be said—the small, vulnerable piece of her that was that little girl alone at her birthday was desperate for it.
Tears stung her eyes. “I don’t know, exactly,” Lia said, forcing her voice to stay even. “But I need you to call Mom. Tell her to come home.”
He jerked a terse nod before disappearing. The fear in his boyish face unsettled Lia more than her injuries.
Gritting her teeth, Lia held back curses as she hobbled to the bathroom, the pen locked in her grip.
She wasn’t getting her room in order before her mom returned from the hospital.
But the least Lia could do was make herself look like less of a mess.
Even if that small piece inside her demanded she sink to the tile floor and sob, waiting for her mom to come take care of her.
Mom has troubles of her own. Dig deep. Don’t scare Marcus. The thoughts trickled in, as they always did. Eager to please. Eager to soothe. Eager to push Lia aside.
For the first time in a long while, she had asked for help. But here she was, stumbling two steps back. The energy to fight those old habits was gone. She was too tired, too hurt, to even muster a spark.
Grabbing the first aid kit, Lia got to work. But not without the thoughts slithering through her mind. If that creature could be brought here. If the gremlin had gotten here. Was Norenth’s barriers not far behind Earth’s weakened ones?
Those ringed eyes haunted her.
Or were nightmares already there?