Arianna Rose: The Arrival (Part 4) (6 page)

“I wasn’t expecting you,
” Agnon admitted and though he smiled, the words dripped off his tongue like venom.  Darius was grateful he had not bothered to scramble for a ridiculous platitude about how nice it was to see him.  No one wanted to see Darius, least of all Agnon.

“
Well here I am,” Darius admitted and spread his arms at his sides before dropping them against his thighs. 

Agnon made a clucking sound with his tongue
. “Why are you here?” he cut to the chase and asked. 

“I am here because I need you to open a portal.  I need to bring my men through.  I need
my army here, and since you were Asus’ lackey, uh, I mean
apprentice
, you are the only one who holds his secret for doing so.”

The one eyebrow of Agnon’s that had not been burned off brushed the ceiling in shock.  “Oh, is that all?” he attempted sarcasm.

Darius felt his blood begin to simmer.  “Oh, I wouldn’t take that tone with me if I were you, old man.  Not after you allowed the Sola, my bride-to-be, to turn from her destiny.”

“I did no such thing!” Agnon bellowed indignantly.

“Oh save it!” Darius waved a hand and swatted the air before him.  “Save that pompous voice for one of the inferior breed you call warlocks these days.”

“You
’d be wise to hold your tongue, Darius,” Agnon warned. 

“And you’d have been wise if you’d done your job and kept the Sola’s future on course,” Darius hissed.  “You let it all fall apart. 
You
!  The planet should have been ours by now.  Instead, she is in hiding with your traitorous son, Desmond.”

He’d spat Desmond’s name with the disdain it deserved.  He watched as Agnon’s scarred features collapsed.  “She fell in love with him and turned from
her intended path.  Her love for him has changed her destiny.  There was and is nothing to be done about it.”

“Oh there is something.  But I would not trust you to handle it.  You’ve already proven yourself
to be useless.”

His words drew a reaction fr
om the ancient warlock.  Agnon grew still as the threat of violence quivered through the air like the strike of a finely honed blade. 

“Oh don’t get
your briefs bunched, old man.  You know what you did, or rather, what you didn’t do.”  Darius smiled.  “But do not worry.  I am here now.  I will put an end to this temporary fling that has distracted her.  I will win her over and guide her back on track.”

“She will never leave Desmond for you,” Agnon said smugly.  “She loves him.  His control over her is too strong for you.” 

Darius bristled.  How dare the incompetent old buffoon doubt his ability to charm a female?  He felt his temper flare.  “Ha! Too strong for me!  Are you mad?” he huffed boldly.  “She may love him, but I can change that.  I can change the way she sees him.”

“You can try,” Agnon placed his hands on his hips and said confidently.  “But their bond is stronger than any I’ve ever seen.”

“I will show my future wife what a disloyal, loathsome being your son truly is,” he assured the old warlock. 

Agnon harrumphed assuredly.  “Good luck with that, Darius.  Desmond’s love and loyalty to her is unimpeachable.  He is devoted to her and she is devoted to h
im.  You will be hard-pressed to convince Arianna of something that is not true, something she does not see with her own eyes.”

At Agnon’s word
s, Darius’ lips hooked into an amused smile.  “Funny you should mention that,” he said.  Agnon studied him.  He concentrated on the image Agnon’s mind produced of Desmond, saw it like a photograph.  Tall and strong with pale hair, skin and eyes, Desmond looked every bit as angelic as his father had depicted him.  All that was missing were massive feathery wings.  The insight made him want to gag.  Still, he needed to replicate the features, so he pressed forward.  With the nauseatingly divine picture urging him, he focused.  He felt his skin ripple and heard the faint echo of bones restructuring, bending and fusing into place.  The sound was akin to old towels being shredded to rags.  He felt his spine lengthen, his limbs stretch and thicken, and his shoulders broaden.  “She will see what she needs to see,” he said in a voice that was not his own.  Agnon gasped and took an involuntary step away from him.  Darius had morphed, transforming before his very eyes into Desmond.  Agnon’s demeanor indicated he was feeling something between raw violence and total panic.  “Funny how things aren’t always as they seem,” Darius commented coolly then laughed a malignant laugh. 

“That’s not possible!” Agnon said,
disbelief strangling his words.  “Shape-shifting is a myth!”

“Does this look like a myth?” Darius asked haughtily and splayed his arms wide, giving Agnon a full view of his transformation. 

“You will not disgrace my son.  You will not sully his name,” Agnon said in a quivering voice.  Guilt laced his every word and was so thick, it was palpable. 

“Disgrace,” he echoed
as he concentrated on returning to his former self.  Flesh and bone undulated beneath his skin as it resumed its original construction and longer, blonde hair tickled his scalp as it was absorbed.  “Now there’s a word you know a lot about.  Tell me Agnon, did you feel you were disgracing sonny-boy when you sent your beast to murder him?” he asked acidly and tapped his index finger to his chin.  “Or did you think you were honoring him by ordering him executed by Thanatos?  I wonder.”

Agnon blanched inasmuch as his charred flesh could blanch. 
A deep frown further marred his already damaged face.  “How did you?” he started and, for a split-second, wondered how Darius knew of his attempt.  After all, he’d been in exile for four centuries and had not had contact with anyone from the life he’d known.  Then awareness smoothed the few features that could be smoothed.  He realized Darius could see his thoughts.  He was not a mind reader or anything that painfully tedious.  What he saw were images, blurred and softened by emotion that shimmered like heat rolling off desert sands.  Darius smirked at Agnon’s reaction.  “You…
bastard
,” Agnon finally managed to choke out.  “How dare you?”

“Really A
gnon, how dare I?  Are you that arrogant still, after all the time that has passed?”  He shook his head slowly.  “I wasn’t the one who tried to have my only son murdered in cold blood, literally.”  Darius laughed at his witty pun.  Judging from the grim look on the old warlock’s face, his joke had fallen flat. 

“My actions were for our people, for the greater good.  I did
not shame him.  He would have died a clean death befitting a warrior of his station.”

Darius tossed his head back and laughed.  “You can’t be serious! You call being
torn limb from limb by a bloodthirsty beast a
clean death
?”

“It would have been better than what you intend to do.  Your plan to use shape-shifting and trickery, the darkest form of our ancient powers,
to bring shame,” Agnon accused. 

“
Now that is truly laughable,” he retorted bitterly.  “What would
you
suggest I do?  Clearly, you have a handle on things here.”

He’d hoped his sarcasm would ruffle the old coot.  But it did not.  Instead
, he stiffened; his posture that of a viper poised to strike.  “Kill him if you must,” he said venomously.  “But you will not shame him.  I will not allow it.” 

Darius could see that Agnon
intended to spill his blood.  But unbeknownst to the fossil, his plan would never come to fruition.  He raised his hand in front of him and Agnon’s feet hovered above the floor for a moment before he swept his arm to the side and sent the once-mighty warlock careening through the air.  Agnon did not have time to scream or cry out.  He slammed into the far wall, hard.  “Just who do you think you are speaking to?” Darius asked in a voice as calm and deadly as an assassin’s blade.  “No one speaks to me that way,” he continued as he crossed the room, each step deliberate and unhurried.  He allowed Agnon’s form to slide down the wall so that he stood on his feet.  Darius held him in place so that he could not move.  “I will do as I see fit, do whatever I feel is necessary.  I will succeed where you failed.”  Darius stopped just inches from Agnon’s hideous face.  

“You will not disgrace my son,” Agnon insisted with conviction.

Darius locked his gaze on the old warlock’s, allowing them to bore into his brain and draw from it every image swirling there.  “Hmm,” he rumbled at the sights.  “I know it must be hard.  You were the most powerful being on Earth for a time.  But those days are over,” he said, his voice just little more than a whisper.  “I can crush you like an insect.”  He could hear Agnon’s ragged breathing.  “So,” he boomed and clapped his hands loudly.  He took a step back.  “Before I consider doing anything that drastic, open the portal to Gehenna for my men.” Just speaking the name of the dark underworld sent a shiver racing across his skin.  “I need Abraxas, Baal and Amitt.” 

Agnon gasped at the names he’d
listed.  He knew of their viciousness, that they murdered without conscience.  “No, you cannot bring them through, not until the planet is ours.”

“Are you telling me no?” he asked through clenched teeth, ire bubbling beneath the surface of his skin. 

“I will not do it.  I will not open the portal,” Agnon said in a voice that trembled. 

Darius shrugged.  “Okay.  Have it your way then.”  He placed his entire hand over Agnon’s face so that his palm rested again
st his ruined nose.  He envisioned himself leeching Agnon’s abilities.  “I will do it myself.  It was nice seeing you.  Good-bye, old friend.”

For a moment, the room fell utterly silent.  The only sound Darius heard was the rush of blood behind his ears as excitement mounted.  The silence was interrupted when a guttural scream tore through the air.  Agnon’s mouth was wide, his expression one of abject horror.  The noise filled Darius with a feeling of complete contentment followed by a rush of
essence. 

A tsunami of pure energy surged through his body, emanating from Agnon as it gushed forth and rushed through his veins.  His heart began to pound wildly, battering his chest as if trying to break free
, overwhelmed.  The thrill of the moment embraced him.  His entire body felt like energy personified as a vibrant, continuous stream of life force hummed in a steady rhythm.  The flow nearly staggered him as it inundated every cell in his body, causing each to quake and shudder at once.  Shock waves ripped through him until his heart felt as if it would explode in a single sonic boom.  He was inebriated, drunk with unadulterated strength.  He was light, glowing and luminous.  He was the sun, the moon and stars, the glimmer that reflected off the point of a sword before it was buried to its hilt into the heart of humanity.  He was power. 

Darius lost track of time as he was carried away on a wave of energy.  In fact, time had ceased to matter, ceased to exist. 
It wasn’t until the flow slowed to a trickle that any sense of the physical word returned to him.  He opened his eyes and was met with Agnon’s face, frozen in a silent scream, barely alive.  Darius took several steps back and drew a line with his finger just below Agnon’s chin.  A bright red arc appeared at his neck where it had been traced and blood began to pump from the open wound.  He waited and watched as Agnon bled to death and slumped to the floor to a seated position. 

When he was certain life had escaped the old warlock, he moved closer and squat
ted so that he could look upon the being he once envied.  Eyes as numbing as the glacial world beyond the windows cast an accusatory glare from his lifeless body and attempted to reach Darius’ soul.  A bitter chill swept through his veins but instead of freezing his heart with shame as it should have, it sent a shock of sheer delight rocketing through his body as refreshing as an ice-cold beverage.  He then stood and turned from Agnon. 

Equipped with the power to free some of his loyal warriors, he stared at the space before him and thought only of
Gehenna, a sinister realm of fire and destruction, of complete chaos and waste.  He strained and struggled against the molecular structure of the universe, against gravity, space and time, until beads of sweat trailed from between his shoulder blades down to the small of his back.  He reached out with every ounce of strength he possessed, both old and new, battling until a section of air before him became visible, quivering and shimmering like heat radiating off pavement on a sweltering summer day.  He instinctively stepped back, away from it, and waited.  He was not afraid in the least.  He recognized the necessity of self-preservation.  This was his first time opening a portal.  Who knew what would try to escape Gehenna ahead of his soldiers? 

Light burst briefly from the shimmering air
, along with a burst of energy that toppled him, and created a phenomenon similar to a camera flash.  The flare had been unexpected.  His eyes had not been prepared for it and spots appeared in his field of vision.  But when the dark blobs subsided, Abraxas, Amitt and Baal stood before him. 

He
’d only been able to open the portal briefly and stood slowly, watching as the shimmering air vanished in a vortex of iridescent glitter. 

“Are you okay, my lord?
” Amitt rushed to his side and knelt.