Chapter Fourteen

If only I, in this

sad age and unhealthy atmosphere,

could keep hold of your noble look; for since the real thing’s

missing I must make do with the image

From To His Lady – Giacomo Leopardi

Translated from the Italian by Jonathan Galassi

It’s hard to run from the Darkness when night is forever nipping at your heels. Here in the midwest, night settles quickly in autumn and with the setting of the sun, my thoughts turned inward. The word soul stealer whispered through my mind like the tendrils of lost hopes and the mists of wayfaring specters on the battlefields of death.

I had managed to walk the Shadow Lands, find the lost child of Light that Lady Arwin had once been and removed the stain of Darkness from her. I had restored her innocence, bequeathed on her the blessings of the Light. But the question remained—had I truly saved her?

It’s true I had somewhat done the same to my Queen, taken the corruption that had immersed itself so deeply within her being that you couldn’t tell where the Light ended and the Darkness began. By taking her Light and consuming the dark essence from her soul, I had removed its taint. But what was she left with? What were either of them left with?

Was Lady Arwin really restored to her former self? Would she now, once again, walk as one with the Light? Know its nature and cast its beauty amongst the world? Or would she again search for the hidden power to rule over all mankind?

Then there was my Queen. What was she left with? She was now nothing more than a shell of her former glory, for she too had now become a Pixie without wings, condemned for eternity to be a Pixie without power, as I as a child had once been.

I couldn’t find it within myself to feel remorseful over either incident. As far as I was concerned, Queen Corral deserved a fate far worse than to be wingless and powerless. She deserved a far greater punishment, possibly even a lifetime of deaths. Or maybe she deserved to be the one to wander the Shadow Lands searching for the remnants of her missing soul.

They say that the Prophets are the judges of the past; only they and few others know what vile things my Queen and my mother had done to me and—who knows what—to the other beings of the fair Court. Who knows, maybe I had let the both of them off easy.

Perhaps in time, the Prophets would show them the mercy they had not shown me. Until then, they could spend what was left of their eternity rotting, locked away in the cells of their own makings. I had previously washed my hands of the two of them and it was time I do so again. Besides, tomorrow was Halloween, and I had other bitches to burn.

Jirvel had things that belonged to me and come tomorrow night, I was going to get them back. If it was the last thing I did.

Ten p.m. found us in the upper sanctum of the Silent Court’s hallowed halls. The sound of our footfalls on the marble flooring echoed loudly in the quiet tranquility. The last few hours had given me a whole new perspective on the Court’s ‘Laws’ and sense of justice. Made me wonder whose rules we were really following and for what reasons. I wondered how all of the events of the last week were tied together or, if they were tied together at all.

I mean, it all seemed so strange. First there was the Zombie Fred who I’d slashed and stashed in the trunk of my rental car after the attack at the graveyard. I couldn’t forget him. It’s not every day one hacks up a Zombie. Not to mention the strange, eerie power that seemed to fill him up with a life force that I’d never seen the corporeal dead possess. Oh, then there was that oily slick power ball that had trapped me inside of it where no one could see me until I touched it, releasing its abysmal power into the dark of the night.

Of course, there was also the death of Lady Twilla and the other dead Necromancers. I still didn’t know who had killed Twilla, or why. All I had to go on for that was the strange death note that was left for me. A note I was still trying to decipher—“Duty, so much like death is a dark gift to bear—eh, Rihker? But will we ever be set free? We are much the same you and I. Many masters, oh so many masters. Told was I she had to die. But she thinks you can set to rights this suffering. Have you the power? Are you the Chosen?”

Was Lady Twilla’s death tied to the abduction of Kieran and the others? Were they next? And exactly why had Xavier come to rescue me from the police department when Adam had dragged us into their little rampaging Werewolf problem? Come to think of it, that damn Werewolf went all the way back to the beginning, when I had originally met Kieran. His girlfriend had been eaten by the pus-oozing, bone munching, gore-mongering Ogre that had been called from the Shadow Land.

Ugh! How the hell was all of this shit tied together? My brain was beginning to whirl with the unending questions while the corporal remains bound up and down on the skeletal frames of dancing steeds in a carousel in hell. The only thing that was missing was damned music to haunt me.

In somewhat of a daze, I watched Drae’s uneasy progression as he headed towards his office. I think if his flesh could have held a shade of green, it just might have.

“Drae.” My voice was thick with contempt as he reached for the knob of his door. I couldn’t help but see the obvious agitation in his shoulders, the tremble in his fingers clinging to the brass handle of the door. It made me wonder who he was off to file a report with, and what exactly he would tell them.

He had turned slightly, carefully watching me with downcast eyes; as if afraid that a head-on stare from me would inflict ill on him. Always good to keep them guessing, I suppose. Although, I truly didn’t know for certain the full aspect of strength of powers I gained from the pages of the Book of the Way that I had consumed. Nor was I sure what stripping my grandmother of her powers had done to increase mine. But one thing was for sure, Drae needed to be warned. I was no longer in a trusting mood. Especially where Xavier Drae was concerned.

“Be very careful in your report. To whoever it is,” I told him.

“Wha…Wha...What do you mean, be careful?” he stammered before the growl of his trollness slipped through despite, I’m sure, his best intentions.

“I don’t know who it is that you report to.” I closed the small distance between us, contempt of the entire last few months growing in my belly like a tapeworm well fed. “But I do know this, Drae. If one more creature comes slithering up from the darkness with my death in mind and it smells the least bit like the Court, the Trolls or any sort of dark subplot with your name on it—I will kill you. Do we understand each other?”

He stood there, gripping the doorknob, his anger overriding his fear. From the dark gleam in his eyes, I knew that for one small moment he considered whether or not I might be serious.

So I too stood there too, looking back at him, the silent hush of lame justice settling on the polished floor beneath my feet. I stared hard into the glistening eyes of a once formidable King of the Trolls and with a small force of will, cracked open the window into my Darkness. Like a warm gust of breath from a resting, gothic dragon—pitch as night and corrupt as sin—I let it pour into my eyes so that Xavier Drae could see into the half of me where death lays waiting with zealous abandon.

“May the Prophets protect us,” his voice quivered.

I then felt a cool rush of air and the settling of wings.

“Great Mother!” Gimlit exclaimed.

I turned at his voice and caught the shadowed reflection of my body, the outline and majestic flair of arched wings spanning out and away from my reflection on the glistening walls of the Court’s hall. Hesitantly I reached up to touch them, only to have them dissolve into memory and mist.

“What the hell was that?” Drae questioned, panic ringing in his voice.

I looked at Gimlit and Jade, blinked once, but said nothing. I had no freaking idea what the bloody hell had just happened. Or how I had managed to grow wings. I mean, I’m a freaking half-breed, for Prophets sake. Half-breeds don’t get wings.

What the hell are the Prophets doing to me? I thought, slowly rolling into my own state of panic. Had I stolen Lady Arwin’s power? Did consuming her Darkness allow me to obtain the image of wings with the consumptions of her mad Darkness? Or was I truly growing my own?

There was no way Drae could know that I had no idea what was going on. He was about to send some damn report to who the hell knows where. If whoever he was reporting to knew I was obtaining Tells like wildfire, they would definitely try to destroy me. Especially since these Tells were ones I had no idea yet how to control. Cripes! This shit was so not happening to me. Was it? Bloody hell!

“May they protect us indeed,” I gruffly replied with a strength of will I did not feel. I turned on my heel and started heading towards the nearest exit. I silently prayed that Gimlit and Jade would get the picture and just follow behind me. Please let them follow. Please let them follow.

By the time we reached the parking lot, my pulse felt like it was about to burst from my chest, it was hammering so hard, and my breath was logged so tightly it actually hurt to take that first deep lungful of clean, fresh air. I could see Gimlit’s Jeep beneath the next parking light and finally felt the both of them catch up as they came alongside me, but none of us said a word while we walked those last few feet. I think we were too afraid to. Afraid of what might happen next. And what all of it might mean.

Apparently, things were getting so bad we weren’t just having shit on toast. No, it seemed our menu definitely called for shit burgers.