The Farthest Gate (The White Rose Book 1) (23 page)

BOOK: The Farthest Gate (The White Rose Book 1)
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Bauku left the stairs for a rough-hewn hall.
  I followed a few steps behind.  The end of the passage belled unto a vast, cavernous space.  We trod a serpentine path around spikes of plain gray rock that matched others hanging from the ceiling.  Occasional baskets holding red crystals lit our way with a bloody haze.  The crystals concerned me as they could well give birth to the same kind of squiggles that had assailed me earlier.

Still, if Bauku were going to summon aid, he would have done so already.  So far, I was grateful for his benevolence though I dared not trust its duration.

We entered a sizable clearing dominated by a massive vein of obsidian that thrust out of the ground.  Either some trick of water no longer flowing had carved it, or there were Dar’kyn artists capable of exquisite workmanship.  The black glass strongly resembled an ancient oak such as those that dominated the world above.  If such a giant had been brought down here and transmuted by dark arts, this glossy beauty would have been the result.  As remarkable as the obsidian branches were, a greater spectacle was the foliage—in place of leaves it had flickering, black flames that teased the eye and mind alike.  The strange fire leaped and danced—an intimate invitation I did not fully understand.

As I had earlier sensed the presence of
Ellyssia in her lost tomb, I now felt a fearsome awareness that iced the air I drew into my lungs, knotting my stomach with dread, tightening the muscles in my back as though I feared the flight of some arrow.  Alien to everything natural, I knew that the glass tree was alive, and aware of me.

“Why are we here?”  My voice came out low and rough, verging on a growl.  Despite every instinct, I advanced a few more steps, coming up to Bauku who was less threatening than this arcane manifestation.

“This is called the Tree of Darkness,” he said.  “Its roots tap another reality—a universe of darkness and hunger.  The first Dar’kyn found this place and forged a covenant here.  Since then, the tree’s dark fire has fueled our magic, and when we ‘die’, the tree claims our spirits—a fair exchange.  What is left of Aracus is in there now.”

Bauku turned and faced me.  His hands lightly settled on my shoulders.  “At first, the dark fire was weak, but as we increased our numbers and were slain, warring against our cousins, the Tree of Darkness waxed stronger, becoming a rival to the green soul of Avalon’s forests.”

This crystal titan was the true master of the Dar’kyn; I understood that, and how it all came to be, but my main question had not been answered.  “Suppose you tell me how any of that benefits me.”

“You will be safe among us, once the tree accepts you.”

“You want me to become a human version of a Dar’kyn?”

“You want power to snatch your happiness back from Death’s cold and greedy hands.  This will give you such power, enough to save your son.  Is he not worth any sacrifice you can make?”

Though full of trepidation, I was sorely tempted.  I did need power.  I could not depend on Death’s good graces to accommodate me.  I needed to be able to compel what I wanted from the grandfather I had never met.  And certainly, I loved my son more than enough to damage myself for his sake.

But such a decision would have drastic and eternal consequences.  My very soul would be tied to the Tree of Darkness.  At death, Avalon would claim me, and heaven would be lost.  I thought of the prophesied day, when Death and hell must give up their dead for God’s judgment.  The worthy would pass on to a new heaven and earth.  If I made this choice, I might be forfeiting eternity in order to have my son for a short span of years.  Bauku offered temporary solace.  I needed a better solution.

“No, this is not the path to victory.”

Bauku set the black diamond circlet on his head.  “A shame, I had hoped you would give yourself willingly, but that is not strictly required.”

Apprehension chilled me.  I whipped my knife up and thrust for his heart, but he dodged back, forcing me to pursue.  As I was about to close with him once more, strands of darkness thrust with blinding speed out of the obsidian trunk.  The ribbons wound around my body.  I lost hold of all that I carried as my arms were pinned to my sides.  I would have fallen, but the shadow bands plucked me off my feet.

For me to waste strength in useless resistance would not help.  I needed to get Bauku to release me.  “You say you want to be my friend … and more,” I said.  “This is not the way.  You will only make me hate you.  Please … release me.”

“Once you know the ecstasy of the black flame, you will thank me for this.”

“If I thank you for this, it will not be
me
speaking, just some flat shadow you have brought to life in my place.  Let me go—now!”

“A flat shadow is better than nothing at all.”

The bands contracted, and hauled me swiftly to the tree.  I had no way to brace for impact.  I closed my eyes at the last moment, but felt only a numbing frost engulf me.  I opened my eyes.  Black lay everywhere, a crushing weight, cloying my senses.  I was inside the tree, floating in a nearly liquid darkness, yet able to breath.

“Let me out!” I screamed.  My words lost strength once they left me, for the tree consumed their vitality.

No answer came from Bauku, but something stirred, and slithered closer.  I sensed an unseen entity examining me.  I felt its curiosity and hunger like ants crawling over my skin.  The tree’s mind brushed my own.  I heard a voice in my head. 
You have a quick-burning spirit.  You are not of Avalon.  You are human?

“Yes,” I said.  “This is a mistake.  You don’t want such as me!  Let me go.”

Go?  Why do you want to go when I can give you so much?

An unseen
wave caressed the side of my face.  My horror deepened, but there was anticipation as well as something deep inside stirred in response.

You have a great darkness inside that seeks completion, a hunger as strong as my own.

“No,” I begged, “do not do this.”

I will make it quick.  You will not suffer … long.

I became a woman deep in the throes of passion, stricken with pleasure sharp enough to become unendurable pain.  The crushing darkness seeped into my shuddering body, becoming a gyre of shadow that inscribed runes across my soul.  I gasped as phantom currents sifted greedily through my being, as if I, too, were a ghost.

Despite my body’s sharp arousal, I felt outrage at the violation I could not stop.  This was not the darkness I wanted to give myself to.  Only Azrael’s ice could tease from me a true and boundless ardor.  This forced response only mocked my true need.  “Azrael, my love…!”  I called him then, wanting only his shadows to know my flesh.  I reached out to him with my heart, “Come now, or I am lost.”

My desperate longing trailed away into bitter disappointment…

Then I found myself calling to him with my will and desire, pouring them into my ring as if I were summoning the bridge-between-worlds.  My ring misted with a soft white glow.  Long moments passed, and the light of the ring began to fail.

Then an anchor arrived for my hopes and dreams, a warm and shining thought:
Be strong, Celeste!  I’m coming.  I am…

“Here!”  His voice materialized next to me.  I felt his hands tearing at the black ribbons that bound me.  His eyes were white stars of rage, turning the space between us into an island of light.

The obsidian tree objected. 
No, she is mine.  Be gone, intruder!

Azrael cried out, hammered away by dark winds.  His voice receded and the darkness around me thickened again.  The tree returned its attention to me, and I cursed it soundly with words a lady was not supposed to know.  A white hot anger exploded in my mind—how dare this monstrosity stop me from saving Phillippe!

Ah!  Here it is.  That buried knot of darkness I have sensed in you.  I shall have it!

All of the tendrils holding me lost substance, sliding into my flesh, diving toward the knot of darkness I had only confronted in nightmares.  That buried pocket bloomed like a black rose, becoming a gateway.  Darkness met darkness.  The black flame was swallowed by a more implacable hunger.

I remembered my dream of a world … a universe … swallowed whole, and struggled to close that open door, to seal away an endless torrent by sheer force of will.

The fluid darkness surrounding my body drained into me as well, leaving me trapped inside an immense trunk of clear glass.

Nightmarishly distorted, I saw Bauku staring in at me from outside, satisfaction etched on his face.

My heart beat rapidly.  I could no longer breathe.  Fear and panic burned out my thoughts, and the power I resisted inside myself answered my need, if not my will.  The glass cracked all around me while lightless wings formed a protective cage.  Then, a wall of force exploded from my flesh, as if I had become a dark sun, expending its life in a single shattering moment.

The crystal tree fragmented.  Shards raced away, a lethal hail in the air.  Violently twisted, lifted from his feet, Bauku was torn to crimson shreds and scattered haphazardly across the cavern while I slumped to the ground.

Fortunately, the black hunger I had released receded, sated from feeding.  I shuddered as the black rose in my soul furled into a bud once more.  I prayed it would stay that way, and counted myself fortunate—if not for the richness of the meal provided by the obsidian tree, I would have been consumed.  Part of me wanted that.  The ecstasy just past was going to haunt me a long time.  More of it could well prove enthralling.

I lifted my head and stared across crystal rubble.

“Azrael!”

Had I destroyed him?

“Where are you?”

Only echoes answered.  My voice became a whisper.  “You know I need you.”

He descended out of the shadows near the cavern roof, and settled lightly beside me.  He knelt and drew me into his arms, into the domain of his cloak.

My head lay against his cold chest.  I listened for a heartbeat that would never come.

His arms crushed me against him and I knew that he was as much a captive to passion as I was.  As we embraced, time stopped in its tracks.

Finally, I lifted my face to his.  Our lips met, hesitantly at first, softly inquiring.  Then the kiss deepened, growing harder, more intense.  Eventually, he loosened his hold on me and swept back his hood.  I saw a porcelain face framed by curls of beaten gold.  His eyes remained pools of white, reflecting his heart’s fire.

“I take it you have decided to forgive me,” he said.

“When I knew I loved you, I knew I had to forgive you.”

His eyes searched my own.  The hard planes of his face relaxed.  “I am glad.”  He noticed the fine
Elven clothes I wore.  “Where did you get—”

“That is not important.  We need to get out of here.”

“We will.”  Beyond fear’s touch, his gaze pried at the wreckage.  “How did you do this?”

“Does it matter?” I asked.

He studied me as if I were some strange, new creature made up of improbabilities.  “I suppose not.  Where are you going from here?”

“To Phillippe.  He is with Prince Amberyn, my recent companion.  The only way I know to find them is to retrace my steps from here.  It will mean going through the palace and back through the
Dar’kyn village.”

“Then that is what we will do.”

“You know the way?” I asked.

“I am an angel.  I know all that is needed.”

“Wait!  My silver mask is somewhere under the broken glass.”

“I will get it.  I already have the rest of your gear.”  He left me and tore into the rubble.  Soon, he lifted my mask into view before absorbing it in his shadows.

He returned to me.

I touched his arm.  “I am amazed that you came to save me, though delighted as well.  I thought reavers could not come to Avalon.”

“The tree’s black fire made a hole in Avalon’s defenses, a hole I used, but that hole has closed.  I will now need an open portal to leave.  Though they know it not, the elves have much to thank you for.  Death himself could have entered through the Dar’kyn talisman, had he only known.”

Azrael swept me off my feet, and held me effortlessly.

My arms encircled his neck.

He glided smoothly through the crystal debris, like a dream that could not be troubled.  I could not hear his steps, and we disturbed nothing in passing.  I did not question this in light of the greater mystery that was my own nature.  The opening of the black rose forced me to realize that part of me was not human, and never had been.

I trembled at that thought, sickening inside.

“What is wrong,” Azrael asked, as we came abreast of one of Bauku’s severed arms poking up from under a slab of glass.

“I am not used to seeing such ghastly wounds.”  That was true enough, but also, I feared Azrael’s feelings might change for me if he knew of the terrible darkness possessing some small, lost corner of my soul.  I wanted to understand that darkness before asking him to do the same.  And what if I could not?  I dashed the question away, unready to face the possibility, too weary to struggle with inner demons.

It was enough to be held, to be loved, and to let someone else carry the weight of life’s struggle for
the moment, before my son’s need dragged me on.  Comforted, I lost track of all else until a change in his stride told me we were climbing the stairs.  They led us to the reception room where horrified servants scampered, wringing hands, tugging at their clothes—a dishevelment that went beyond the popular fashion of my world where many a lady wanted to give the impression she had just come from some passionate rendezvous.

Loss deadened the pale faces that turned our way.  Their eyes widened with madness and distraction.  No one moved to challenge Azrael as he carried me across the room, but a bitter hatred formed in our wake.  If looks could flay, I’d have no skin left at all.

The haunted emptiness within the Dar’kyn continued, as we fled the fortress and navigated the streets beyond.  The villagers roused to glower at me, seeming to know I had killed all that held their dark society together.  The elves on the surface might be glad I had extinguished the obsidian tree, but those down here would despise me endlessly.  Any less devastated and they would have rushed to weapons, despite my unnatural protector.

“Let us hurry,” he said, “before they awaken fully from the shock.”

We reached the iron bridge
.  I buried my face against Azrael’s chest, and closed my eyes tightly.  The cold deepened as shadows caressed me.  A moment later, Azrael set me on my feet.  I looked around.  We were on the far side of the chasm.  He had sped us across in a second, sparing me discomfort.

I felt relief when we reached the blue-crystal grotto.  The sound of falling water led us the rest of the way to the underground pool where we found Amberyn climbing the bank.  He looked as disgruntled as a half-drowned cat.  He stared.  “What is this?  You were supposed to wait for
me
to rescue you!  Do you know what I had to go through to get this far?  And you—reaver—what are you doing on
this
world?  It should not be possible.”

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