It’s true what he said. He has transcended. Bearing the strength in human form that was once reserved for his demon form.
And it’s not long before my limbs tire, growing useless and weak, as my sight begins to dim from the edges in. Shrinking my vision to one point of light.
One point of light that dances, leaps, wiggles, and twists.
One point of light emanating from the lit torch on the wall nearest me.
“Use your light, nieta. Learn to trust it. It’s the most reliable tool that you have,” Paloma said to me. And while it’s not technically my light I see flickering before me, for the moment, it’s all that I’ve got.
I reach for the buckskin pouch at my neck and fold my fingers around it.
“Your dying breath and you waste it on that?” Cade sneers. “You deserve to die, Seeker. Haven’t you figured it out by now? It’s superstitious nonsense! If it worked, then why has your life been reduced to this? Why did your dad croak at sixteen? Why is your entire family, with the exception of Paloma, who barely counts she’s so useless—why are all of them dead? Ever stop to think about that? You fell for the whole pack of lies, Santos. When the truth is, any magick worth its salt doesn’t live where you seek it. It’s not in the elements. It’s not in the earth. Magick, true magick, only thrives in the darkest of men—the worthy few. All the rest are mere fodder, existing to sustain us. Lazy, apathetic losers, content to live small meaningless lives, who willingly leave their souls at risk for people like me to control. Still, it’s nice of you to entertain me with your foolish beliefs—as if killing you wasn’t pleasure enough.”
He throws his head back and lets out a roar so loud, so primal, so Coyote-like, the surrounding walls tremble. And just when I’m sure he’s going to change into his demon form, he surprises me by staying the same. Only harder, fiercer—as though the two versions of him have merged into one.
His fingers lace tighter, as his thumbs press hard on my windpipe. “Funny how the harder I squeeze, the bigger your eyes grow, yet the less you can see.” He leans closer, his face looming directly above me. “Look at me, Santos!” he cries. “Look. At. Me! I want to be the last thing you see before you die. This time, just like the last time. I want you to remember the way I looked when I killed you for the second time!”
With my vision reduced to a pinprick, I continue to stare past his shoulder, focusing on the small beam of flame.
“Look at me! I command you to see me!” He screams, but I maintain my focus, allowing the Fire Song to stream through my brain.
At the whim of the wind
I can smolder or singe
Comforting as easily as I harm
A single lick of my flame begets irrevocable change
Be like me when you seek to transform
“Damn it, Seeker—do what I say! Look at me!”
The light grows brighter. So bright I can no longer bear it.
I shutter my eyes against the flame.
“Open your eyes, Seeker! Don’t make me—”
The flame flickers and flares against the back of my lids, but it’s too late.
Outraged by my refusal to obey, Cade squeezes so tightly my whole world goes black.
Only this time, unlike the last time, there is no one to save me.
My limbs are the first to go. Turning into numb, deadened stumps.
My torso goes next.
And then—
A horrible scream fills the air, as I’m flung to the far side of the room where I roll to my side, gasping and wheezing, as the burning, demon version of Cade twirls and dances before me.
I scramble to my feet, my fingers softly exploring the damage he’s wrought on my throat, as Cade flails about the room. Screaming in agony, searching for something in which to put himself out.
Would’ve been far more effective to stop, drop, and roll, but it’s not my place to interfere.
I stagger toward the hall. All too aware that while I may have survived this one, I’m in such bad shape I have no idea how I’ll go on. A trip to the Enchanted Spring is out of the question. There’s no time to waste. Now that the Richters are on to me, I need to get deeper into the Middleworld as fast as I can and find Dace.
I’ve just barely made it to the back wall when a sudden surge of warmth rushes up from behind me, as the final line of the Fire Song repeats in my head.
Be like me when you seek to transform.
The fire beckons. Curling and twisting, inviting me to join it.
Be like me when you seek to transform.
I look past it to where Cade, still overtaken by flames, continues his hysterical dance.
Be like me when you seek to transform.
This is no ordinary fire. This is my Fire Song—my magick at work.
Be like me when you seek to transform.
Without hesitation, without fear, I move toward the inferno until I’m fully engulfed in its flames. Trusting they will restore me, transform me, heal me, just like the song promised. Its warm loving fingers coaxing me through, urging me safely toward its other side where I emerge completely renewed.
I steal one last glance at Cade, seeing him already beating the flame. Without a second to spare, I plunge through the wall, landing in the first of many dimensions of the Middleworld.
nineteen
Dace
Another visitor.
Since Suriel left there’ve been many—most of them demons working for Cade.
Even Coyote stopped by long enough to jerk his snout against my cheek to ensure I’m still breathing before he moved on.
But no matter how much I plead, not a single one of them was willing to put me out of my misery. So why should this time be any different?
I roll onto my stomach, bury my face in the dirt. Muttering, “Go away!” But still it draws closer. “If you’re not going to help, then feel free to scram. I’ve no use for gawkers, so get the hell out. You can tell Cade I’m still breathing, still existing, just like he planned.”
“Now why would I do that?”
A brilliant veil of light swoops down from above—its warming rays permeating my flesh. Thawing the places long turned cold.
“You’re a mess,” the voice says. “But I’m here to help. I can heal you. Erase your wounds like they never existed.”
“Not exactly the kind of help I’m after, so push on.” I burrow deeper into the dirt. “It’s not light that I seek, but rather its opposite.”
“I don’t understand.” The voice bears kindness, a trace of confusion. Probably paired with a face to match. Still I stay right as I am and refuse to acknowledge it. Though that doesn’t keep it from asking, “If you’re not looking to heal, what is it you want?”
“Salvation. Atonement. Daire,” I reply, my lips grinding into the dirt. “Think you can manage that?” My tone is purposely gruff and sarcastic, and my request is met with silence, just as I thought. “Go on. Shove off,” I growl, the words a harsh rasp, but the meaning is clear.
“Dace, I—”
“Beat it!”
It’s only when the light retreats that I raise my head and chance a quick peek.
Platinum hair. White tunic. Pale skin. And he glows.
Go figure.
It’s amazing the things you see way out here.
twenty
Daire
The air is acrid and dry. Instantly parching my throat, chapping my lips, but still I push on through the bleak, barren land that stands as a gateway between one world and the next.
Unlike my previous trips, this time, instead of trekking toward the massive dune that drops into the Lowerworld, I go the opposite way in search of the Middleworld dimension where Coyote left Dace.
According to Paloma, each of the three worlds contains numerous realms. And from the orders Cade gave to Coyote, to “drag Dace to the darkest recess of the Middleworld where no one will find him,” I take him at his word and head for the deepest, dreariest plane.
While the Upperworld is populated
by benevolent human guides (Axel included?), and the Lowerworld with benevolent animal guides, the Middleworld is the only one populated by both humans and demons alike. Though it’s not always easy to tell them apart. Coyote wears many disguises.
Unfortunately, everything here looks the same. Endless miles of dull yellow, snow-flecked sand, offering no natural markers of any kind—no shred of vegetation, not a single sign of life. It’s a dead, dried-up land. Making it impossible to tell if I’m on the right path.
A dead, dried-up land.
Land.
That’s it!
It’s been a while since I last called upon the Earth element, which is why it takes a few moments to remember the melody. But as soon as the tune pops into my head, the lyrics to the Earth Song instantly follow.
I am constant and strong
Eternal—everlasting
A provider of shelter and solace
Strength and perspective
Look to me when you’re lost—and I’ll give you direction
I’m three verses in when a path clears before me and I hit the trail at a full run. Cutting and curving through the valley of sand toward a bleary horizon I soon recognize as the first of many portals into the Middleworld’s many dimensions.
In the Lowerworld, transcending dimensions is all about descent. And, from what I saw, the Upperworld runs just the opposite. But here, the portals are laid out like dominoes. Some placed closely together, others occurring miles apart. Though it doesn’t take long to detect a surprising amount of order amidst all the chaos. Despite each passing veil leading to an entirely different landscape—some carpeted with sand, some with dirt, others with sharp-edged rocks—each successive portal leads to a land that’s progressively bleaker than the one that came before.
Still, it’s not until I’ve passed through several layers inhabited by strange, shadowy figures, when I come upon one overrun with a preponderance of small, run-down huts.
Instinctively, I reach for my athame, as my eyes continue to survey the land, and my feet keep a steady pace toward the next veil. My relief at having made it through unscathed, ending the second I see the dimension beyond is markedly worse.
Markedly worse and inhabited by demons.
Lots and lots of demons.
And unlike the demons in the previous dimensions, these ones are not shy.
These are Cade’s demons.
Despite having the advantage of seeing them first, it’s only a matter of seconds before they surround me like a carousel of massive, scaly, hulking bodies with oversized heads, flame-colored eyes, twisted snouts, and lipless, gaping holes standing in for their mouths.
I wave my athame before me, turning slow circles as I search for the leader, the one who poses the biggest threat. Determined to go after him first, if for no other reason than to send a warning to the rest that despite my appearance, I am not one to be trifled with.
The largest among them is the first to step forward. With a horrible snarl shrieking from his abyss of a mouth, he roars with such force the ground trembles beneath me.
The move meant to intimidate, but it falls appallingly short.
All it takes is a determined swing of my athame to cut him off at the knees. Then I kneel down beside him and slice off his head, just to ensure he truly is dead.
That’s the thing with demons. When it comes time to fight, the stupid ones always man the front line, while the smart ones hang back to evaluate. And more often than not, the leader looks nothing like you’d expect.
I kick the beast’s leg stumps out of the way, and have a go at the rest of them. My blade cleaving into thick scaly torsos, gouging out eyes, slicing through well-muscled necks until the ground all around me is littered with oversized, misshapen heads, and only the smallest demon is standing.
The leader’s eyes meet mine, and I give a little wave of my hand, urging him to join me.
But this one’s smarter than the rest, and after taking a moment to consider, he turns on his heel and disappears. Leaving me to move toward the next veil where I pause on its other side, struck to see that the path has ended and Dace is nowhere in sight.
Has the energy become so murky and stagnant that Earth can no longer guide me?
Or, is it now up to me to call on what I know in order to find him?
I go quiet and still, alert to the smallest shift in the atmosphere, any sort of sign that he’s here.
A shuffle of dirt.
Could be a strange animal, or yet another tribe of demons, but it’s worth checking out.
A softly murmured voice.
I can’t make out the words, but it sounds like English.
With no more to go on, I race toward it—my certainty growing with each passing step.
He’s here.
Living.
Breathing.
Which means it’s not too late to save him.
Driven by the promise of being reunited with Dace, I crash straight into a scene that stops me dead in my tracks.
twenty-one
Daire
Breathless and horrified I watch as he stands before an old dead tree with his back turned toward me. Grasping either side of the hollowed-out trunk with a set of palms that emanate a stream of energy so dark, it’s only a second later when the tree is annihilated as though it never existed.
Before he can turn that same dark magick on me, I creep up behind him, press the athame to his neck, and say, “Tell me where he is.”
He doesn’t so much as flinch. Doesn’t so much as glance back at me. Doesn’t react in any notable way.
Maybe because he recognizes me just as easily as I did him.
“Tell me where he is, Axel. Tell me what you’ve done with him, or so help me God, I will…” I leave the threat unspoken, allowing the sharp tip of my blade pressing into his neck to fill in the blanks as I keep a close watch on his hands. Magickal hands. Lethal hands. And I can only pray he didn’t use them on Dace.
“Drop the knife,” he says, his voice soft and coaxing, betraying no hint of fear. “There’s no need for violence. In case you haven’t noticed, physical threats may slow me, but they’ll never stop me.” He lowers his hands before him and stares at his palms in dismay. Seeming not to notice or care that I continue to press the blade to his neck.
“I know he’s here,” I say. “And if you don’t take me to him right now, so help me, I will cut you.” I jam the tip into his flesh, just enough to show that I’m serious.
“I have no doubt you’ll make good on your word. Still, you’ve already tried to kill me once. What makes you think a second attempt will end any better?”
“Because I’m stronger.” I glare. “And because this is no longer just about me. There’s much more at stake.”
He drops his hands to his sides as though they’re of no use to him. “If you truly care about Dace, if you really want to help him, you’ll put the knife away and go home. This is no place for you. Trust me on that.”
I lift onto my toes, curl my arm around his neck, and press the blade hard against the hollow of his throat. Last time I found myself in a similar situation, I hesitated and it ended up costing me greatly. It’s a mistake I won’t make again.
“You’ve got less than a second to tell me where he is,” I warn, taken by surprise when instead of resisting me, instead of answering me, he drops his head back and freely offers his neck. His deep purple eyes rolling skyward to meet mine, bearing no trace of the soft lavender gaze I remember.
“Do it,” he says. “If it pleases you, I won’t move to stop you.”
At his urging, I shove the knife in. Slicing through a soft layer of smooth, ivory skin—only to gasp in disbelief as a stream of golden fluid seeps from the wound.
That’s why he glows. It comes from inside!
“What are you?” I whisper, watching as the fluid coagulates, then dissipates, as the gash seals shut, leaving no sign it ever existed.
“I already told you.” He straightens his spine, crick
ing his neck from side to side as he turns to face me for the first time since I arrived.
“I know what you told me, but you’re more than a Mystic. That much is clear.” My gaze rakes over him, trying to get my bearings, trying to make sense of his being here.
“Am I?” He shrugs. “I’m not sure what I am anymore.”
Our eyes meet, and for the first time since I got here, I’m no longer sure what to do. He’s not acting at all like I expected him to.
“Why are you following me?” I snap, in desperate need of some answers. “Why are you here? There’s no way you can ever convince me to go back if that’s what you’re thinking!” The athame wavers before me, though it’s no use where he’s concerned.
“I don’t even know if I can return. I wouldn’t dream of taking you.” His dark gaze appraises me, and for the first time ever he looks weary, broken, and as lost as I currently feel. “Besides, you’re fully healed now from what I can see. Exactly how long have you felt better, Daire?”
I stare at him without blinking.
“Much longer than you let on, I presume.”
I stand mute before him, staring at the place on his forehead where the chair landed. Noting how, just like his neck, it bears no trace of trauma.
“I’m not interested in apologies,” he says. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”
“What are you interested in?” My gut clenches. “I demand to know the truth.”
“Why do you think I’m here?”
“Because you’re following me—stalking me! You think that just because you saved me you can claim me!”
He shutters his eyes, mumbles something unintelligible under his breath.
“You held me in a locked room—bolted from the outside—with no way to escape! You held me hostage against my will—and tried to keep me weak, so I wouldn’t be able to leave!”
“Is that what you think?” His face clouds with pain.
“That’s what I know! Now where the hell is Dace?” I start to push past him, only to have him grab hold of my arm and pull me tightly against him.