10. Chapter 10
Leander
L eander couldn’t run anymore. He’d run so far, for so long. It had been days . The prince had given him food and water to take with him in a rucksack, but the supplies were running low, and he had no idea how much farther it was to the Shadow Lands.
Anything is better than being sacrificed to the Ice King , he told himself as he stowed away what little provisions remained before beginning his third day of traveling.
The prince had saved him, the Emerald Prince himself. Leander had to survive. He had to reach the Shadow Lands and make something of the gift he’d been given to start over elsewhere.
He’d never done anything bad his entire life—other than be born a half-elf and show that he had magic, spotted accidentally one day, in his own backyard.
Not even powerful magic, just illusions.
That’s all it had taken to condemn him. Retribution would have been just as swift if anyone had discovered Leander yearned for the company of men.
He didn’t even know what had become of his brother, Leslie. He hoped their mother could continue keeping Leslie safe and hidden as a half-elf in a land that hated them .
Alone now and no longer needing to waste magic on glamouring his half-elf ears, Leander was exhausted.
He knew little of where he was going. No one really knew what the Shadow Lands held.
Their carriages would arrive without drivers, deliver goods for trade, and take back what Emerald gave them.
The stories said that had been the way of things for centuries, stretching back even longer than tales of the Ice King.
It was whispered to be a place of such powerful magic, no one dared question the carriages, stop trading with them, or ever send anyone into the wood to find the Dark Kingdom.
They called the lands that—Dark and Shadow—because the few people who’d ever ventured close enough spoke of how the wood turned to night even if it should have been morning.
That was how Leander knew he was finally getting close, because the sun had only just risen, and he’d walked for less than an hour when it seemed as though darkness might swallow him like he’d entered a cave.
Leander stopped. In front of him was a haze he might not have detected, where the wood opened into a wider path, and across that haze along the path was night— night , not merely dark, for he could see stars and a full moon ahead.
The trees there no longer had leaves, their gnarled branches reaching for the sky.
It was winter, but even the firs looked dead there, yet they were also beautiful somehow, sparkling as though covered in metallic shimmer.
And, as Leander craned his ears, he would swear he could hear voices, happy, normal voices like townsfolk in a market.
Yes! There were lights in the distance! He was saved!
Terrifying as it was, and despite all the stories of dark magic and people being driven mad by this place, Leander had to press on, for he had nowhere else to go. Perhaps the Dark Kingdom welcomed those Emerald called corrupt, and all would be better for him there.
All would be well. It had to be. He was almost—
“At last. You are perfect. ”
Leander froze before he could take his first full step across the haze, hearing a strange voice coming from somewhere he couldn’t see. “Who—”
Then everything stopped, the lights gone, the murmur of townsfolk stilled, and all curiosity wiped away, because a wicked fast slice had severed Leander’s head from his body.
“Yes, you’re perfect,” the voice said again, the last thing Leander heard as his mind caught up to already being dead. “And not to worry. When you wake, you will be a brand-new man.”
Levi
“Levi!”
Levi sucked in a sharp breath as the memory faded. Everything leading up to this moment had been so blissful—achieving new heights of pleasure with Ashmedai in the king’s true form. Now Ashmedai had returned to his white skin and less pronounced ridges, as if he feared he had somehow harmed Levi.
“Are you all right?”
“Braxton lied,” Levi said, rolling onto his side to face Ashmedai.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“He lied. I remember everything now. You told me he said the people he killed to make me had started to transform and were panicked, beyond saving. He….” Levi clutched his throat at the sharp sting of memory.
“I hadn’t started to change yet. I hadn’t even crossed the barrier.
He said I was perfect… and then he took my head.
He killed me. He murdered me and knew what he was doing. He murdered all of them—”
“ Levi .” Ashmedai gathered Levi close, hugging him tight, which helped still the terror that had risen in him. “I am so sorry. I’m sorry that happened. I’m sorry you have to remember it.”
“The highwayman didn’t kill those people and leave parts behind. Braxton did.”
“But how? Brax can’t cross the barrier.”
“He was there. I know it was his voice.”
“Are you certain? Maybe you’re remembering wrong. This is Brax , your own creator and my closest friend. He would never—”
“He would never mutilate corpses and lie to you?”
The silence that followed was static and sharp, enough that Levi felt guilty for having to say it, but there were no doubts in his mind after reliving his death. That had been Braxton’s voice.
Slowly, Ashmedai held Levi out in front of him, looking conflicted. “There must be an explanation.”
“What if there isn’t?” Levi asked.
“Then we will find out the truth. You’re safe now. Even with that memory, I promise you are safe.” He stroked Levi’s cheek with a tender brush. “I will always keep you safe, Levi. Or…. Leander , I suppose I should call you now.”
“No.” Levi shook his head, pressing his face into Ashmedai’s palm. “I remember everything, but I’m Levi. I’ll always be Levi now. Leander simply needs justice. They all do.”
“ Yes ,” Ashmedai said with some of his true resonance slipping into his voice, “ they do .”
Ashmedai
So as not to alert anyone at the festival that something was amiss, Ashmedai brought himself and Levi to the tower door using his shadows. The sounds of the festival were only faintly audible in the distance, like the most surreal of backdrops, since they were about to confront a friend for murder.
Ashmedai reached for the door, but Levi stopped him.
“Who was Braxton before the curse?”
The question startled Ashmedai, though the answer was simple. “Exactly who he is now—or so I thought. An alchemist, hungry for knowledge. If he is truly to blame for all this, I never would have guessed he’d be capable.”
“The people of Emerald have become frightened of magic, outlawed it,” Levi said, “yet they allow alchemy. There’s still crime. There’s still awfulness and death. But I’ve never heard of anything like what Braxton has done. I suppose even science can be frightening when wielded by the wrong person.”
The sentiment was wise, but Ashmedai could tell Levi was haunted, because he too had never believed Braxton could be the wrong person .
“He owes us answers,” Ashmedai said, reaching for the door once more, but also lifting his other hand to gently cup Levi’s cheek like he had in the bedchamber. “If he did this, then all that matters is why .”
Pulling the tower door open, Ashmedai went in first, with Levi following .
The tower was quiet, dark, with few crystals illuminating any part of the main living area.
“I don’t see any pulsing, but he must be in his workshop,” Levi whispered. “Unless he’s still at the festival.”
“Pulsing?”
“When he’s working, lately there has been this purple light. It draws me in like I can’t tear myself away.”
Ashmedai frowned, continuing toward the closed workshop door, with one arm holding Levi behind him, though mostly to keep one hand laced with Levi’s and know he was safe.
There was no noise from the workshop, no light either, but Braxton rarely kept it locked, and that was no different today.
Everything looked as it had the last time Ashmedai was inside, except it was darker here, almost too dark for shadows, save a few at the base of the large black crystal in the center of the room.
At their approach, it pulsed with something almost the opposite of light, like Ashmedai’s shadow magic—black with hints of purple, and only bright enough for them to see where they were going.
Ashmedai couldn’t see in complete darkness, so even this lighting was difficult for him. His eyes were adjusting, but the clutter of the workshop, the shelving, the equipment, all of it could be hiding treachery where Ashmedai’s eyes couldn’t penetrate.
He opened his mouth to call out.
“Why, Levi, I believe you’re missing stitches,” Braxton called first.
Ashmedai looked around, but the voice had echoed, seemingly from everywhere, and he couldn’t locate the source.
“Brax? Show yourself! We deserve answers. Levi remembers his past life and believes you murdered him knowingly, on the other side of the barrier. Is that true? It that why you were keeping him from remembering who he was? Were you not forced to kill those people?”
“No, I wasn’t,” Braxton said. This time his voice seemed to come from behind them, but when Ashmedai pulled Levi closer and turned to look, nothing was there. “I needed them and their parts.”
“Why?” Levi asked with a tremor in his voice. “Why did you need to make me?”
“It’s the crystals. The black crystals are what will finally free everyone,” Braxton said, not really answering Levi, with his voice coming from the walls this time, though Ashmedai couldn’t tell which one. “That is all that matters.”
“ Brax ,” Ashmedai bit out sharply, hating that his voice tremored like Levi’s. He’d never felt fear toward his friend before, but his instincts screamed at him to keep Levi close, so he gathered Levi in his arms and held him.
Braxton appeared finally from behind the large black crystal, wheeling forward like normal in his chair. “Do you remember when we met?”
Anger spiked through Ashmedai’s chest. “You must answer for—”