Illusion (32 page)

Alexandr tapped under her chin, and Maya realized she’d been gaping. She closed her mouth with a click of teeth.

“It will take us to Tau.” He smiled at her, but there was sadness behind his eyes that she didn’t understand.

“It’s safe, don’t be concerned,” said Resh. “Esmonda will go first.”

Esmonda lifted her skirt and stepped over the edge into the darkness. For a moment she floated, her body glowing ghostly white. Then she reached out and grabbed Resh’s arm, her eyes wide in panic. An electrical buzz filled the air as she faded from view, leaving behind the smell of apples and ozone.

What was that about?

Resh stared at the empty space for a moment. “You’re next.” He held a hand out to Maya. A rustle from the left had them turning in unison. A person stepped out from the cave entrance.

Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt under a swirling red cape. Smiling with narrowed eyes as if terribly pleased with himself.

Trent.

“Maya McAdam,” Trent said with a smile. “Here we are again.” He opened the journal they’d lost back on Earth. It revealed a picture of Maya standing on a ledge with winged Khereb flying in the background. “We’ve been watching you.” He inclined his head at Resh and closed it with a snap. “Unfortunately the warlock is not part of the bargain.”

A sudden gust of wind lifted her hair and dragged at her clothes. A black-skinned Khereb landed with a heavy thud near the cliff face, several yards from Trent. Another jackal-faced Khereb rode a thermal current close to the ledge, several feet from Alexandr. It screamed and received a piercing reply from more Khereb circling above. The shrieks echoed across the valley.

Her breath seized in her chest. The small ledge creaked ominously and she leaned back on Resh, who’d drawn his sword.

The Khereb on the ground was huge, much larger than those back in the cave. It stood on four legs, twice as tall as Trent, stinking of death. Its mage face was sickeningly familiar.

Jhara.

Trent extended his hand to Maya. Resh gripped her tighter and edged back. How far could he move before falling off? A few feet at most. Maya craned her head over her shoulder and saw nothing but miles and miles of rolling mist. The sun gained a foothold on the horizon, found a hole in the mist, and blazed into her eyes.

Resh tracked Trent and Jhara, while Alexandr swiveled to face the Khereb behind them.

“Thanks for the open invitation to Balkaith.” Trent slipped the journal into a pouch around his hips and smiled at her. “I’ve never seen a blue sky. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Lord Molokh has been waiting for your powers to reveal themselves. He’s never quite sure what to expect.” He genuflected, limp hair falling forward.

“What are you doing?” The words spurted off Maya’s tongue. Her voice sounded deeper, strange in her own ears.

“The transit of Venus marked the day you were born. The weather changes, strife between races, death of the planet—all these events heralded your reincarnation. Your birth to a human was foreseen; no one knew which continent. It’s why the Anu revealed themselves to humans; they had a better chance of finding you with both magic and science. But you found Jhara instead—attracted by his factory. You couldn’t keep away.” He laughed. “Jhara paid handsome prices to secure all your art. Then it blew up in his face because he tried to renege on our lord’s deal. Just as well I found this,” he tapped the pouch holding her journal, “or I would’ve ended up just like my old master.”

She froze, stunned by Trent’s words. Her useless muscles turned to water.

“Our Daughter of Mist. Even though you ran, I was justly rewarded.” Trent nodded like a clown at a fair. As he moved, columns of turbulent dark red energy swirled from his body. “Lord Molokh increased my neuron spikes, turned me mage by tripling my powers.”

“She isn’t yours,” Resh said. It was a soft declaration that lightened her spirits and gave her new resolve. She wouldn’t let them take her without a fight.

His hand on her chest pressed hard toward the portal behind them. His power filled the air until she could feel a sharp tingle race over her skin.

“Don’t think of it. You’ll be dead before she moves.” Trent lifted his arm and pointed at Resh. White lightning danced along the tips of his fingers, dripping down to sizzle on the ledge. “There’s more sentient energy in this realm. No wonder the warlocks left Earth. The powers in the crystals are sublime.”

“Do you really think you can beat me?” Resh growled.

Trent laughed. “I won’t need to. Look around you.”

Black shapes filled the sky, winging their way to their aerie on the mountain. Hundreds and hundreds of winged monsters bringing with them the scent of decayed flesh. Maya flinched.

“Your real name is Pidray; Daughter of Mist and Lightning. Goddess of War and Illusion. The Khereb have sacked Balkaith. Once the mess is cleared, Anu will cross to this realm and leave the pitiful husk of Earth behind. Everything depends on you; the warlocks will be killed or enslaved. At sunset, your powers will allow you to take on any form you wish. Your transition marks the stage between earthbound powers and immortality.”

She shifted her balance, reeling in shock, felt Resh’s chest heave behind her.

Immortal.
Her lips mouthed the word.

The scent of incense and wax came to her.

A mountain of bones—swaying palm trees and the blinding desert—racing horses in a chariot over white sand screaming in laughter and glee—gauzy cloth covering scantily clad women their long hair braided with silver beads and peacock feathers—Lapis lazuli statues and inscribed obelisks—dates their dark flesh ripe and rich on her tongue—happiness—a gold coronet shaped as poison ivy—the wonderful feeling of freedom tingling through her body as she basked like a cat under a hot sun after being buried beneath stone for so long.

“Until tonight, I am messenger and guard.” Trent tossed a bolt of electricity at the Khereb. It hit his black rump with a zap of fire. The smell of burned and rotten flesh filled the air, making her cough.

Jhara’s red eyes glittered with rage, but he lowered himself on stiff forelegs and bowed to Maya.

“What have you done to him?” she asked, dragging back from memories rich with familiar faces. No beautifully clad women peeked at her from behind open weaved screens, or gold beds covered in damask and sheer cotton. Just Jhara, his pained eyes etched with suffering, and a cloudless sky filled with flying Khereb calling
death
. Jhara had never been her favorite person, but he didn’t deserve this.

“Our Lord Molokh created him for you,” said Trent. “He dared touch you in anger. He’s yours. They all are. If you bind with us.” He gave an elegant wave to the air, a smile fixed on his long face.

“I don’t want them.” She touched the hilt of her dagger. The awful futility of it all struck her like a hammer, made her wonder what she was really fighting for.

“Time to grow up, Pidray. Take your rightful place. If you humor Lord Molokh, he might even let you keep the warlocks as pets. Your sympathetic nature got you into trouble in your previous lives. He’s promised not to bury you in a hole for your failings. Do the right thing and you’ll never have to bear the silence of death.”

Resh’s brown arm pressed across her chest. She’d never felt more fearful, more filled with cold, deadly horror. What was the truth? Had she murdered children or had she tried to save them? Her memories told her she’d loved those ancient people. She met Resh’s eyes over her shoulder, and they were telling her to bolt for the portal, maybe four feet away. Only Alexandr stood between them and the half circle. The force of the Kherebs’ wings blew dust and pebbles across the ledge.

“There’s no justice in taking this realm by force.” She wanted to step back and hide from the monstrous Khereb. A repulsive mismatch of mage features, a broad, squat body, and a long, flicking tongue set below a toad’s eyes stared back at her.

“Pidray, justice is in the words of the winner. Today you have a choice to come with us or allow the warlocks to be killed.”

“Let her go, Resheph. She’ll kill us all in the end.” It was Alexandr’s voice, from behind her.

Maya’s skin pricked with warning as Resh pressed once, twice with his fingers on her side. She touched her
kila
, traced what had been carved with painstaking care on the hilt. The snake, the peridot, the silver coils, were all there beneath the pads of her fingers. He planned to thrust her to the portal, step in front, and battle Trent and the Khereb.

“Resh,” she whispered. The wind picked up and carried her voice away but he must have heard her.

“I love you. Never forget.” He pressed a third time in warning, and with one hand thrust her toward the portal.

She spun, activated the
kila,
felt it drag free of her ankle sheath and heard a thump as it met flesh. Spears of red fire flashed in her peripheral vision, a scuffle, and the whistle of a sword being drawn. Then a snap of magic and a thud as something heavy rocked the ground. Hands grabbed her shoulders.

Alexandr.

She teetered for a moment, right on the edge of the portal. The smell of ozone and a long, winding passage filled with white swirls welcomed her. Her heart banged and she was pulled away, turned back to Trent. The portal door clanged shut. Alexandr stood behind, mimicking Resh’s earlier position, his chest heaving.

Trent rose unsteadily, a spool of magic wound around his reddened fingers and a long gash across his chest. Blood darkened his shirt and smoke curled from his clothes. Resh’s sword rocked on the ground near his feet.

Jhara reanimated, a squelching, rotten sound as his flesh knit together, the
kila
efficiently embedded to the hilt in his chest. It sucked free with a wet smacking sound and flew back to her hand.

“Pidray. That was a waste of energy.” Trent shook his head and sighed. “But I’m glad you’ve learned something in this realm. Your father will be happy to hear how well you’ve done.” He said it as if she’d executed a neat trick, like a performing horse.

Resh lay on the ground, blood leaking into his hair from a black wound on his forehead, out cold. Luminescent chains of electrical charge encased his body, dug deep into his forearms. Jhara perched over him, one talon raised to send a bolt into his heart. Static sparked and flashed.

It was too late for Resh and her—too late for anything except for holding onto memories of his face. If only she’d told him how she felt when she’d had the chance. She’d love to reverse time, do things differently. This was all her fault. Her body shook and she shoved the
kila
in her sheath.

Jhara’s cold blue eyes matched the sky, glittered in the light, and she wanted to look away from the suffering in them.

“It would be a shame to end his life like this. Think, Pidray.”

Alexandr tensed behind her, his fingers clamping on her shoulders until it felt like he gripped bone. “Let Resheph go. His death was not part of the bargain. You were meant to take her.” Alexandr’s indignant voice competed with the cries of the Khereb circling above.

Maya jerked as if slapped.

Trent glanced at Alexandr. “Shut up. Your usefulness is over.”

Jhara crouched on all fours like a hideous gloating spider and licked blood with a long, black tongue from the warrior’s face. Tiny pustules glittered on the glossy flap of meat, and her stomach heaved in protest. The ledge creaked ominously.

It should have been a shock to learn of Alexandr’s betrayal but it wasn’t. Resh might have been blinded by his love for his friend, but Lucient’s dislike came back to haunt her. Alexandr’s beauty disguised a calculating mind, something he’d painstakingly hidden from the others. She ignored the wrench of pain in her heart.

She stepped back hard on his instep with her booted heel. Pressed with her whole weight.

“I’ll kill her and end this entire debacle.” Alexandr’s trembling hand held the sharp edge of his sword firmly beneath her chin. A trickle of blood ran down her neck. He kneed her from behind and she lost her balance and stumbled off his foot. She thought of the
kila
, wondered if she could end the bastard’s life, and knew if she had to, she would. Alexandr’s scent had changed from incense to sweat and fear.

Alexandr held her before him like a shield. She shifted on one heel and felt the bite of steel dig deeper beneath her chin. She could feel his arousal pressing low into her spine and shuddered in repulsion. Danger turned him on.

It surprised her when Jhara spoke.

“Goddess-born. Shall I eat the warrior? He has bloodlust. Cannot be trusted.” He pinned Resh with his double-jointed leg and bent down, breathing in Resh’s scent.

Her instincts shrieked to kill Alexandr and run for the portal.

The ledge creaked and shale rattled down the sheer cliff, fell hundreds of feet to the forest floor.

“Leave Resh alone. Get off the ledge. Your weight is going to take us all down,” she said. Her clear voice surprised her. It didn’t reveal the panic roiling through her body.

“Not without binding with us, Daughter.” Trent’s voice was the same, but tinny and remote, as if he spoke from a great distance.

His words must have proven too much for Alexandr. The sharp edge of the blade cut deeper into her throat and blood sprayed across her chest. He hardened further behind her.

Trent didn’t hesitate. With the speed of a scuttling insect he tossed a bolt of lightning.

Alexandr lifted the sword and tried to deflect the bright light. Lightning raked across her shoulder, burned her hair, and hit Alexandr in the face. He snapped back and tumbled over the ledge. He fell in a shower of stone, screaming so loudly she covered her ears.

Blessed silence and bone-deep satisfaction that he’d gotten what he deserved. Maya dragged her hands away from her head, and pressed her neck with her T-shirt, trying to stanch the thick flow of blood. She had to wake Resh.

Whoosh.

A Khereb rose through the air from below the ledge. Alexandr dangled by one leg from its monstrous talons. The adept screamed in fear and pain, his voice a raw rasp as a rat-faced Khereb tossed him into the air, opened its huge jaws and crunched down on the terrified adept’s torso. It shook its horrid head, sending Alexandr’s blood flying among the other predators and tore off into the blue sky, wings beating in a rhythmic pulse like the last beats of a mortal heart.