Chapter 42
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
I will follow you. Beyond the Crimson Sea and what awaits us in the dark.
—Correspondence from Ordell to Enya. Date preceding Sultiran Calendrical System.
The long, gray fortress of Demon’s Door slid into view as we rounded the peninsula.
Over a mile wide, the six-level prison held Sultira’s most dangerous criminals, reserving the cells at the bottom of Mount Telum for prisoners of a more secretive value.
Large, sharpened ivory tusks of some ancient beast lined the battlements like the gaping maw of massive fangs.
Sentinels stood at several posts above and below the prison, eyes on the Hydra as it approached in the distance. The slight breeze carried the soft floral scent of purple lapis trees off its coast.
Ready to make an entrance?
Let’s make them shit themselves, Tiberius replied with a smile in his voice and an edge of anticipation.
I allowed myself a sliver of a smirk. Aquila leveled out next to us, and Ronan grinned widely as he took in the Rising’s men stationed at the prison. Seated in front of him on Aquila’s long back, Nerissa shot a look at me and Drystan before nodding.
My heart sang as Tiberius and I stretched our shadows into a large, sail-like shield, the Obscura bending to the Transcindiel’s guidance as it transformed the darkness.
We descended, aiming straight for the courtyard on the other side of the prison.
Shouts rang from guards as we approached.
We came in hot and tight, close enough that several sentries had to duck as we barely eclipsed the upper battlements, the caelumas’ massive shadows like black clouds flying overhead.
While arrows were poised, none were released as we landed.
Tiberius’s hooves thundered down the gravel road, and as he flared his wings, slowing his speed, he allowed a small bit of gold and black power to escape into a cloud of shimmering darkness. Aelius’s brilliant white light sparked from Aquila’s wings, and he dropped down in the center.
I shot a look at Nerissa, whose palms held a little ball of swirling, white light as she dismounted and stood next to Ronan. Though Nerissa’s face was a mask of neutral boredom, her skin paled from our entrance.
Drystan hopped off Tiberius with ease, my dear friend accustomed to being airborne by now. I swung my legs over Ti’s broad back before hopping down. The massive, steel-plated domed doors clicked and slowly opened.
A middle-aged man with dark skin and a wicked scar along his neck stepped from the large archway and slowly clapped his gloved hands.
“Impressive, Commander,” he said as he stalked forward.
Ronan tensed before straightening and striding up to the man.
“Good to see you, Lieutenant.” Ronan clasped hands with the man, who eyed the rest of us with a kernel of distrust.
I did my best to match Nerissa’s unimpressed look as we entered the Demon’s Door.
“Most of the cells are used as barracks, but we maintain the lowest level as a functioning prison,” Lieutenant Einar said as he walked us through the prison’s dark halls.
“What did you do with their previous occupants?” Drystan asked, Ronan interpreting for him.
Einar scoffed. “Seeing as half of them were Rising fighters, they’re still here, only now they’re well-fed and not tortured. The others, we took care of. No need to feed more mouths than necessary.”
I blinked, the unease that arrived in the face of such brutality curiously absent.
“How many do you have stationed here?” Ronan asked, surveying the barracks and earning glances of admiration as we passed various groups of soldiers.
“Six thousand here in the prison and another five thousand at Khasimir,” he murmured.
Ronan nodded his appreciation.
“But Saros has a force of about ten thousand occupying the Rellenor Fields. We’ve been trying to find a way around them for weeks,” Einar continued.
We stopped as we reached the inner courtyard, where groups of men sparred in designated areas.
“Why not take Skyscape Pass?” Drystan asked, as he surveyed the warriors. A gust of autumn air whipped through the space, sending his shoulder-length hair flying across his face.
I interpreted for Einar.
He pursed his lips, shaking his head. “Skyscape Pass isn’t safe right now. We’ve sent several scouting parties, and none have returned.”
“Skyscape Pass isn’t wide enough to house an entire host of soldiers unless they are passing through,” Drystan replied, his brows furrowing. “What could have taken them out?”
Einar shook his head. “We’re not sure. The men think it’s haunted.”
The Stone Witch’s hiss slithered down my spine in a phantom whisper.
“What do the women think?” Nerissa asked, scanning the courtyard.
Einar blinked. She turned, her posture domineering as she looked down her nose at him.
“The families of the Rising soldiers are camped north of here in a small village we’ve taken control of.”
“And the fighters?” she asked, pointedly.
Ronan cut her a cautious glance.
“We’ve no female fighters,” Einar murmured. He shouted at a handful of men gawking at the four of us to get back to work.
Ronan cleared his throat. “Alright. The Hydra should be docking any minute. Lord Astraeus and his crew will keep their quarters on board. No need to spare barracks for them. Do you have space available for the rest of us here?”
Einar grumbled his agreement. “Aye, Commander. The prison is yours.”
A nod from Ronan. Movement from the sparring yard caught my eye as a fight broke out.
“Lake scum!” a man shouted.
Einar let out a low swear as he mumbled his apologies and stalked toward two brawling men.
The larger of the two, a young man with light brown skin, threw his fist into the older man’s jaw, sending droplets of blood flying from his lips.
The older barreled into the younger, flipping him on his back.
His head cracked against the stone pillar as he went down, and my pulse leaped as I caught a glimpse of the young man’s face.
Einar shouted profanities at the two as he raced toward them, but my powers were faster.
Twin ribbons of shadows shot from my palm as I let the Transcindiel power transform the Obscura into something lethal, yet tangible.
The darkness stretched forward and wrapped tightly around the older man, pinning him against the pillar, suspended in midair.
Einar stopped short, whipping his head in my direction, face strewn with horror and disbelief as I held the soldier. Ezrich Hunt’s face drained of color as he scrambled to his feet, eyeing the soldier in my bounds before he looked back at me with wide eyes.
Ronan nudged me in the ribs. “Easy. We don’t want to scare them away.”
I eased my grip on the soldier before dropping him to the ground. He shrugged out of the black ribbons as they coiled into my palms.
“I see they’re getting along very nicely,” Nerissa murmured, a smile forming on her lips.
I nodded. The two powers within me hadn’t simply found the space to exist together in the chasm, but melded together, enough that I could influence the nature of the Obscura. Turn it into something tangible, and still deadly.
The Transcindiel required sacrifice. Less, if I merely nudged the essence of its focus. Khato said the two needed a binding agent. They were as oil and water. Tiberius and I still weren’t entirely sure what that was, but some strange force surfaced at their pairing.
Whatever it was, we had enough of it in us. Maybe someday we’d figure out what that meant. For now, the ability to transform the raw power of death into something tangible was a weapon itself.
A flash of blue pulled my gaze across the courtyard, where Astraeus strode in with a small group of men. Hand on the hilt of his curved blade, he smirked as we made eye contact, as if in appreciation of my display. I threw him a vulgar gesture before turning back to the young man.
“Hi, Ezrich,” I said, offering a small smile as Bear’s son cautiously approached. I scanned the courtyard, a thimble of hope igniting in my chest at the thought of being reunited with his father or sister.
“Lyvia,” he said, eyeing me up and down and shooting a cautious glance at Nerissa. “You’re here. I heard the rumors… That it was you…but…”
I frowned, allowing the blaze in my irises to cool. “Didn’t Bear explain what happened in Odessa?”
Ezrich frowned as he shook his head. “I haven’t seen Dad since he left Rivaner for Odessa.”
Shit. Where was Bear? And why hadn’t he made it back to Rivaner to find Ezrich and Evony?
“What about Evony? Where is she?” I asked, reining in my fear.
Ezrich paled.
“He told me he sent her to safety, to Mum’s cave. But when I went looking, she was gone. Cottage was burned to the ground. No sign of her.”
Ezrich’s voice broke toward the end, and my throat bobbed.
“Okay, we’ll talk more soon,” I said, nodding toward the approaching Einar.
Ezrich followed my gaze and hurried to his commanding officer.
“I’m going to the village to speak to the women there. Care to join me?” Nerissa asked as the peaceful fisherman from the Lake of Light moved into position with another partner and a short sword.
I shook my head. “No,” I answered, “I’m going to Skyscape Pass.”