But it wasn’t the ink of before.
There were shadows out there now—some humanoid, some reptilian or animal, and some that bore striking similarities to the Aedh. And there were all sorts of flora, round spheres that resembled planets in miniature, and many other things that had absolutely no resemblance to anything I’d ever seen before. It was almost as if this place was some sort of monument to all the things that lived and breathed, as well as all those that didn’t.
Creation’s reference library, perhaps?
But why in the hell would Malin come here?
“To destroy creation, of course,” came the amused reply. “Or, at least, the part of it that references the temples and the gates.”
I swung around, my fingers automatically tightening against Amaya’s hilt. Malin strolled out from behind some kind of stone crustacean, her golden wings little more than gossamer wisps in this place and her body even less defined. But the malevolence that oozed from her being played across the shadows and made it hard to breathe.
You don’t need to breathe here, I reminded myself fiercely. You are energy, and of this place now.
Malin laughed, the sound cutting. “You can never be of this place, little Risa. Do not believe the reaper’s lies, because they will get you killed.” She paused, and I had an odd sense that she was smiling—a cool, cold, cruel smile—even if I couldn’t see it. “Of course, it is not likely you are going to survive this encounter anyway.”
“One of us certainly won’t,” I replied evenly. “But then, it’s not actually me you have to fear, Malin. It’s the remnants.”
She was still moving toward me, her pace even, measured. As if she had all the time in the world and absolutely nothing to fear.
I frowned. Something wasn’t right . . . I swung around and raised Amaya. She connected with something solid and sparks flew, briefly highlighting the long length of blade that had almost chopped me in two. Amaya’s flames crawled down its length, but there was nothing and no one holding the other end. Nothing but darkness itself. Amaya hissed, the sound of displeasure.
Cannot eat, she muttered. Of this place.
Of this place? The thought died as awareness surged. I shifted sideways sharply, felt the air recoil as a fist the size of a car smashed down on the spot I’d been standing in a second before.
A fist. Fucking hell, she was bringing the things that were held in this place to life.
“The remnants cannot hurt me,” she said. This time, her voice was coming from the left, even though her shadowy form still approached from directly ahead. “They dare not. Not in this place.”
I flung Amaya at the Malin I could see, then closed my eyes and imagined myself standing behind the one I couldn’t. There was a brief snap of movement; then malevolence hit me like a punch to the gut and it was all I could do not to exhale in pain. I clenched my fist and swung, as hard as I could. Felt the burn of electricity across particle fingertips as I connected with something—or someone. Heard her grunt before the sense of malice was abruptly ripped away.
I’d hit her. I’d actually hit her. And if I could do that, then I sure as hell could do more.
I opened my hand, felt Amaya thud into it, then imagined myself standing behind Malin again. This time, however, she was ready for me. Shadowed lightning arced toward me, the heat of it so fierce every particle burned. I flung out a hand, imagined a shield, and there was one. The lightning hit it and bounced back to its source. Malin swore and disappeared into the shadows again.
Behind!
Fear surged. I jumped high, flipped around, and swung Amaya as hard as I could. Black steel connected with bloody red and sparks flew, bright fireflies in which I briefly glimpsed Malin’s eyes.
And saw only madness.
She would destroy this place, destroy two worlds, and even all creation itself, if that was what it took to achieve her goal of freedom. I couldn’t fight that. No one could. No one but the remnants, perhaps.
But given that they were conspicuously absent, I had to at least try.
Malin disappeared again. I imagined myself standing to her right and swung Amaya. Once again, red steel connected with black. Malin’s cool smile briefly flashed, and her sword became two, then three, then four and more, each one linking to the next via a fiery thread. I swore and ran backward, attempting to get away from the rapidly multiplying web of metal. Felt the sharp caress of air behind me. I dove away, but not quickly enough. Energy smashed into my particles and knocked me aside, where it pinned me, bored into me, ate at me. A scream tore up my throat, but I bit down on it hard. If she could multiply her weapons, then I damn well could, too.
But nothing happened.
Can’t, Amaya said. Am unique.
“Well, fuck,” I muttered, and imagined instead a fist smashing down on the source of the energy. There was a sharp whoosh of air; then the dark surface underneath me shook as something heavy hit not too far away. The energy gnawing at my particles abruptly ceased, but not the swords. They came at me, a thick rush of red that reminded me of a bloody river. I hoped like hell it wasn’t an omen, that it wasn’t my blood that would soon be running like a river in this place.
I imagined myself away from them, but the net of swords flung themselves at me, cutting off any avenue of escape and surrounding me in a web of needle-sharp steel. Again I tried to transport myself elsewhere, but when I opened my eyes, all I saw was the gleam of swords as their points began to slowly inch toward me.
Amaya, shield.
Flames flared from her steel, hissing and spitting against the duller red of the other swords, but they had little effect. I swore again and slashed at them. Shards of steel went flying, but for every one we shattered, two took its place.
Laughter rolled around me, a bitter, contemptuous sound. “You will die, dear Risa, as your father deserved to die. Slowly, and in great pain.” She briefly appeared out of the gloom. “The swords will suck you dry, then spit your remnants into the endless ether; there will be no rebirth, no becoming a reaper, nothing but darkness and the knowledge that you failed.”
With that, she disappeared again. Steel slid into my foot. I swore, jerked away from its touch, and slashed down on the other weapon. Steel went flying, but once again, two more weapons took its place. More steel slid into my particles, their touch heated, foul. Desperation surged. Damn it, there had to be a way out of this! But the swords had me pinned on all sides . . . all sides but one, I realized suddenly.
I imagined a hole opening up underneath me, and a heartbeat later I was dropping down—fast. High above, steel glimmered, but they weren’t following. They simply continued their slow press inward.
Relief shuddered through me, but I wasn’t entirely sure why, given I still had a psycho bitch to stop. I imagined running after her, closing in on her, and suddenly I was. I raised Amaya and flung her. She made no sound as she cut through the shadows, but Malin nevertheless sensed her. She made a motion with her hand and a net of sliver wrapped itself around my sword and stopped her dead. Amaya screamed, the sound echoing both in my head and through the shadows.
Hurts, she wailed. Burns!
I swore and grabbed her as I ran past. Imagining her net free didn’t work, so I picked it away as best I could as she alternated between cursing and screaming—both in pain and for blood.
Malin was still running ahead of us. I frowned, suddenly wondering why she was actually doing that. I mean, why not simply imagine herself where it was that she wanted to be? Had Azriel somehow restricted her movements when he’d torn her concealing net away?
Movement, to my left. Before I could react, I was sent flying. I sailed through the air and splattered against something cold and solid, then slid in a heap to its base. For several seconds I couldn’t do anything, couldn’t hear anything. My head was ringing, there were stars doing a merry dance all around me, and the darkness seemed to be moving.
I blinked. The darkness was moving.
I cursed and flung myself out of the
way, but that shadowed, obelisk form somehow grabbed me, and once again I was sailing though the air. This time I crashed into metal, and the resulting clang was a clarion sound that cut through the darkness and stirred to life something out there in the shadows.
Up, up! Amaya screamed. Move must!
I tried. I couldn’t. My particles were burning and I just didn’t have the energy. I closed my eyes and imagined myself away from the obelisk. Felt an answering sense of movement, but it was neither fast nor far.
I twisted around, saw the giant obelisk with arms thundering toward me, and forced myself forward, as fast as I could. It still wasn’t enough. Not only was the thing behind me catching me, but Malin had come out of the canyons and was heading toward a single column on which stood a series of miniature buildings and two barely adorned gateways. The temples, and the gates to heaven and hell, I knew without a doubt.
In desperation, I put as much energy as I could into the need to get in front of her, to stop her. There was a sputter of movement, but before I even knew whether I’d succeeded, two bolts of lightning hit my middle and sent me flying backward—straight into the arms of the obelisk.
Malin laughed. “And so, dear Risa,” she said, as she pressed a hand against the stark white stone of the column. “You have the pleasure of watching this place die, and a moment to reflect on your failure before the creature that holds you tears you into infinite pieces.”
“Go fuck yourself, Malin.” In a last, desperate effort to be free, I thrust Amaya into the middle of the obelisk creature. He exploded. The force of it ripped Amaya from my grip and flung me forward. I hit the ground hard and pain bloomed, but I ignored it and rolled forward and up, and ran, with every ounce of strength I had left, straight at Malin.
She pressed her other hand against the column and pushed it. It began to rock, gently at first, then with greater speed.
“No!” She wasn’t going to win. No way in hell was I going to let her win.
I launched myself into the air and desperately arrowed forward. Not at Malin, but at the miniature itself. I grabbed it from its precarious perch, twisted around in the air, and flung it to the side.
Amaya, shield and protect, no matter what happens!
I couldn’t see whether she obeyed. I hoped she did. Hoped I hadn’t completed what Malin had started. I hit the ground, heard the groan as the column reached full tipping point, and looked up to see it hurtling toward me.
I imagined myself out of the way, but there was no sense of movement and nothing but the column filling my vision. I rolled. It was all I could do.
The column crashed to the ground inches from where I lay, and the impact shuddered through every part of my being. Malin screamed, and once again I looked up. This time, it was she who was coming at me, a bloody sword held high above her head and vengeance oozing from every pore.
I had nothing left.
Nothing but one desperate hope.
Priests of Aedh, if you’re out there, if you’re watching and listening, you need to get your asses in here and give me a little help.
The bloody sword came at me. I flung my hands up, imagined a shield, and prayed like hell. Metal hit metal and again the sound rang out like a clarion bell.
She raised the sword and hit the shield again. This time, it cracked. As she raised her sword for a final blow, I twisted and kicked, with all my might, at Malin’s gossamer legs. I didn’t have much strength left, but it was enough to unbalance her. What would have been the death blow skittered off the shield and hit the darkness just to my right.
I scrambled up, clenched my fists, and hit her full in the face. It might not have been a strong blow, let alone a killing one, but damn, it felt good.
She raised a hand as she staggered away, and suddenly there were vines twining up my legs and pinning my arms to my body.
“Now,” she said, as she stalked toward me, her face twisted and ugly with malice. “We end this—”
Enough. The voice was male, and it came from everywhere and yet nowhere. It echoed through the shadows and reverberated through my mind. It held no threat, yet I sensed it could kill without a moment’s hesitation or thought.
And it was a voice I had heard before. It was the remnant I’d spoken to the last time I’d been here in the temple.
“You have no power over me,” Malin snarled. “Begone—”
Her eyes went wide and she froze. The vines that bound me withered away, but without their support I ended up on my ass.
You have caused enough damage to this place, Malin. For that alone, we could end you. His tone was calm, collected, but filled with a sense of regret. We had hoped, until the very end, that you would come to your senses, that the last of the Aedh priests could not possibly want the destruction of all that we hold sacred.
Malin made a muffled retort. Energy radiated off her, but whatever she was trying to do, it had little effect.
But in attempting to destroy the archive of both the temple and the portals, you have shown a malignancy that cannot be tolerated. There was a soft sound, like a sigh of wind. It is with great regret that we are therefore forced to end you.
And just like that, she was gone.
I blinked. “So she’s dead?”
No, because with death comes eventual rebirth. She is scattered, never to re-form, never to know the kiss of the stars or the bliss of being in the presence of the fates.
Wow. Although it wasn’t like the bitch didn’t deserve it. “And the others?”
Even now the reapers finish the last of them. He paused. Your reaper heads this way, but he has no need to fear. We owe you and him a great debt.
“I was just trying to save my world.”
Yet the fate of your world still hangs in the balance.
“Yeah, I know.” I sighed and rose. “Is it safe to recall my sword?”
Yes.
I held out my hand and Amaya thudded back into it. I sheathed her, then said, “What happens now?”
And now we will ask something else of you.
I blinked again. “What?”
That you take a message to she who bears the Aedh’s child.
I frowned. He could only be talking about one Aedh—Lucian, whom I’d once thought of as a friend, and who turned out to be one of the major players in the whole key-theft saga. He was also the man who’d kidnapped and impregnated my best friend—and had tried to do the same to me. Thankfully, I was already carrying Azriel’s child by that time. “What has Ilianna to do with any of this?”
The child she carries is the future of this place. Her daughter must undergo priest training. The fate of those she holds dear will depend on it. And when she dies, she will come here and guard this place.
“One person cannot possibly—”
She will not be alone. We will train the reapers as well.
You will? a familiar voice said, as the warmth of his particles wrapped around mine and gave me strength.
Yes. For too long we have watched while you fought. It is time we helped.
It would be greatly appreciated, Azriel said, his voice formal.
We cannot, however, intervene in the search for the remaining key. That task still falls to you.
“What if hell doesn’t hold the sorceress? What if she appears in the temple grounds again, or attempts to open the final gate?” I asked.
If we sense her, we will stop her. But if she uses Aedh magic to conceal herself, as she did previously, we may not know of her until it is too late.
“And you can’t undo what she’s done and close the two gates that are already opened?”
No. For that, we would need the blood of their creator.
I closed my eyes and cursed. Maybe it hadn’t been such a great idea to kill my fucking father.
What he tried to do to Mirri he would have done to all of those you cared for, Azriel said. To protect them, you had no choice but to kill him.
Yeah, but now we’re stuck with no way to close the gates and one gate standi
ng between us and hell.
One portal is enough, the voice said. And more can be built once we again have fully trained priests in the temples.
It was a hope. Not much of a hope given all the shit that was still out there, ready to fling itself our way, but at least it was something.
Thank you, the voice intoned again.
And with that, he left.
I blew out a mental breath, then turned and wrapped myself around Azriel. And now, James, you may take me home.
I would love to, he said. But that, unfortunately, is not something I can do. You must return to your flesh by yourself. I cannot help you with that.
Then I’ll see you at Riley’s.
You will. The energy of his being briefly ran through mine, a sensation that was the reaper equivalent of a hug, and one that left me feeling both safe and loved. Then he left.
I closed my eyes and did the same.
Chapter 3
The minute I opened my eyes, the pain hit. I gasped, bent over double, and wrapped my arms around my body. Every muscle I possessed seemed to be on fire. God, it even hurt to breathe . . .
Arms scooped me up and held me close to a chest that was warm and muscular and smelled of blood and sweat.
Azriel.
As I wrapped my arms around his neck, his heat and strength infused me. Although it didn’t chase away all the hurt, it went damnably close.
“Fucking hell,” Riley said, her voice a mix of concern and anger. “You both look like shit. What happened?”
“We don’t just look like it,” I muttered without opening my eyes. Doing so would have been too much of an effort. “We feel like it, too.”
“Speak for yourself,” Azriel said, amusement touching his rich tones.
“What do you need?” Quinn said, ever the practical one. “And is there any immediate danger to either of you, or to us?”
“No,” Azriel said. “But Risa is in need of a shower, clothes, and food.”
“Risa knows where the shower is, and I’ll grab some clothes. Quinn can cook something up for Risa and me to eat,” Riley said. “But when all that is done, I want a full and concise summary of what the fuck just happened.”