The throne room was buried in a coat of blackness, the air thick with dust from the crumbling structure. With no remaining light source in the room, I ignited my sword to illuminate our path through the dangerous rubble. The supernatural flame exposed a scene of utter destruction; the fire-dust had done more damage than I had expected. Ducking under a fallen column we ventured further into the unstable fortress.
“I like what you’ve done with the place,” Hope joked.
“Keep alert,” I said, my voice sounding more heroic than I had expected, “Venator could be hiding anywhere.”
A flash of light near the head of the room drew our attention toward the platform where the throne once stood. We tiptoed carefully around the splintered table and up the stairs. Once cleverly obscured by the throne, a hidden door in the rock wall had swung open. The passageway behind it led down a winding staircase illuminated by a ghostly green light somewhere far below. Thick cobwebs hung low from the ceiling, and a cold breeze blew out of the doorway.
“I think it’s your turn to go first,” Hope insisted, reminding me of her promise to let me take the lead this time. The light from my Veritas Sword caused more than a few mice and spiders to shrink back into their holes as we ducked into the stairway and slipped silently down the secret passage.
The foot of the stairs opened onto a small rock platform overlooking a deep cavern. The space was tall and cylindrical, like a deep well carved out of stone. The ceiling, I assumed, was somewhere high above me, untraceable in the darkness. A rough-hewn stairway coiled its way steeply down around the edge of the room. The bottom of the well, far below, was scattered with jagged rock spires, and in the center of it all was a cauldron of fire. The narrow stairs presented a treacherous descent around the room. One misstep and I’d be skewered on one of the spires below. I held my breath until we were safely at the bottom.
“Well, well, well…” Venator’s voice mocked, seeming to whisper in my ear at first, then floating away as he continued. “Nice to see you again, Hunter.”
His voice traveled in the air like the wind, making it impossible to locate his exact location. The room appeared empty, but I knew he was near.
“I’m here for the Bloodstone,” I shouted, surprised at how the cavern echoed and magnified my voice.
“Then by all means, come and get it,” he challenged, his voice ringing with cruel intent.
“What now?” I wondered out loud. “It could be a trap.”
“Probably, but we don’t have another option. Let’s spread out,” Hope suggested. “He must be hiding behind one of these stone spires.” She turned to go, raising her bow in defense.
“Wait,” I called out to Hope. She tilted her head in anticipation of my reply, but I couldn’t find the right words. The momentary pause caused her to lower her brow in concern.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Just…be careful!” I said, hoping I didn’t sound too worried.
“Aren’t I always?” she smiled back with understanding. We moved up the west half of the room slowly, engaging in a deadly game of cat and mouse with our unseen stalker. Spire by spire, we searched the room, making our way around the perimeter.
“How quaint…” Venator’s voice mocked. “It appears I underestimated you, Hunter. But really, letting a girl do your dirty work, you could have done better.”
“Show yourself, Venator!” I shouted bravely, tired of the hunt but not really wanting him to appear, “unless you’re afraid.”
“No,” came the voice, “not afraid, just waiting…”
I wanted to ask, Waiting for what? but I wasn’t interested in playing games with him. Maybe he was wounded in the fire-dust explosion and was waiting to recover. I stuck to that thought and let it embolden my approach.
“Do you really think you can beat me?” Venator’s voice rang out once again.
“I know I can, just as the Author has prophesied.”
Venator laughed at my claim. “The Author’s words do not scare me, boy. I am a free man. He has no control over my fate any longer. The Bloodstone gives me the power to do whatever I want.”
“You’re wrong. The Bloodstone was cursed; it will kill you, Venator. As long as you hold it you’ll never be free, you’re a slave to it.”
“A curse? Is that what the old fool told you? Yes, I can see why he would want you to believe there is a curse; he doesn’t want you to know the truth. He didn’t tell you why he wanted it, did he, Hunter?”
Come to think of it, he actually hadn’t. All I knew was that I was supposed to take the stone and return it to Aviad. Once both halves had been recovered, he was going to rid me of the Shadow’s hold on my life somehow.
“Your silence is answer enough,” Venator continued. “The Bloodstone’s power is envied by all who learn of it, even the old man. Don’t you get it? He is using you, Hunter. He needs you to bring him the stone so he can control your life. He wants to make you the Author’s slave.”
Hope spoke for the first time. “Don’t listen to him, Hunter. He’s lying.”
“Am I?” Venator’s voice challenged. “Then how is it that you are here, and he isn’t? He doesn’t care if you live or die, he’s just…using…you.”
“Enough!” I shouted, rounding another spire only to find the space behind it empty as well. Venator’s voice was getting on my nerves. “Where are you?” I called in anger.
“Here I am,” his voice came from a rocky formation on my right. I plastered my sword into the side of the stone, sending a spray of rubble across the floor, but no one was there.
“No, over here,” he called again, from the shadows on the left. I caught a flash of movement in the darkness and made my way slowly to the place. The pain in my chest began again. He was close, very close. A shadow passed behind me, and he whispered in my ear, “I am here.”
I spun around and plunged my sword into the midsection of my attacker. Only too late did I realize what I had done—I was staring into the pained and frightened face of Hope. She swayed for a moment and then gazed downward. I saw the Veritas Sword protruding from her stomach.
“Hunter?” she asked with a furrowed brow.
With trembling hands I let go of the sword, and she dropped to the ground.
“Hope—no—not like this!” I cried, falling beside her in a heap. “Hope, no, don’t die, you can’t die—I didn’t mean to…”
Her eyes searched for mine, and she held up her weakly trembling hand. I clasped it tightly in both of mine.
“Hunter—I…” she gasped deeply for air.
I started sobbing at her weakened state. “I’m here.”
“Never alone…” her lips quivered with the words. Her free hand reached for her neck as she strained to breath. With her last ounce of energy she pulled the medallion from her neck once more and held it up.
“Take it…” she whispered in a barely audible voice.
I grabbed the necklace and watched the last breath of life escape her lips. Her head fell to the side and her arms went limp. Hope was gone.
I couldn’t move, just holding her brought the only comfort I had left in the world. I would have remained there forever if Venator hadn’t intruded on the moment.
“Too bad, isn’t it?” he said stepping out of the shadows at last. “The almighty Author didn’t care to spare her life.”
I didn’t move, I closed my eyes and let the rage inside me intensify.
“It’s a pity too,” he continued, stepping within a few feet of me. “I was so looking forward to watching her suffer. Perhaps now you see what I mean when I say the Author doesn’t care.”
“You did this!” I groaned, my stomach sick with emotion.
“No, Hunter…you did!” he said.
I had heard enough. In one quick motion, I pulled my sword from Hope’s body and swung at the boy. Surprisingly, he was not prepared for the attack. He raised his staff a little too late and my sword connected with its shaft, severing the Bloodstone from the top and sending it flying into the cauldron of fire. I sensed true fear in Venator’s blackened eyes for the first time.
I no longer cared about the Bloodstone, all I wanted was revenge. Revenge for Gerwyn. Revenge for Sam. Revenge for Sanctuary, and most of all, revenge for Hope.
I lashed out with the sword in an onslaught of angry strikes. Staggering backward to avoid the blade, Venator retreated as quickly as he could. His only defense was the shattered staff of wood, which he swung helplessly in an attempt to slow my approach. I did not give up, pressing forward and forcing him back into a stone spire. Venator stumbled awkwardly to the side from the collision. Seizing the moment, I whipped the Veritas Sword in an angled attack and smashed the side of his mask, opening a gash in his cheek.
A sudden pain flashed across my own face, and I winced in surprise, raising my hand to my cheek. Venator wiped black blood from his face with his hand and I did the same.
What had I missed?
Venator turned to run away and I swept my blade at his legs, this time catching him on the calf. We both howled in pain and fell to the ground. I looked at my own leg, where an open wound showed black inky blood flowing from it.
“What magic is this?” I yelled in confusion.
“No magic,” Venator seethed.
“Then what!” I demanded, trying desperately to heal the wound on my calf with the Veritas Sword, only to find it didn’t work this time.
“You still haven’t figured it out, have you?”
“Figured out what?”
“Who we really are,” he said mysteriously.
I looked up blankly, unsure of what he meant.
“Maybe this will help,” he suggested. With a slow hand, Venator removed his now broken skull-mask, revealing the face beneath. Nothing could have prepared me for the horror of what I saw—I was looking into the blackened eyes of my very own face. Only this time, it was not in a mirror. Venator looked exactly like me.
“You see, Hunter, we are one and the same. We are connected,” he said at last.
It was too much to take in, too strange for words. The wounds seemed to prove it, but I just couldn’t bring myself to believe that I was somehow one with Venator.
“How is this possible?” I choked on the words as they came out.
“Aviad never told you about your true past, did he?”
“He told me you took the stone and that I am the chosen one to take it back,” I said, hobbling away from him. My left leg ached from the gash I had placed there and I fell to my knees.
Venator rose and hobbled toward me, favoring his right leg as he followed.
“Convenient. Trust me. He only wants to ruin your life and it serves him well to leave you in the dark. The Bloodstone is the very thing that binds us, Hunter.”
“But I didn’t take the stone—you did!”
“Did I?”
“Of course you did, I saw it myself. The Author’s Writ took me there; I watched you take the stone,” I recalled aloud.
“Yes, you were there, but it was your desire to take the stone that created me, Hunter. The book wasn’t showing you what I did, it was showing you what you did…through me. As a matter of fact, without you, I wouldn’t even exist.”
His words penetrated my soul in a way no weapon could. I was at a loss for words. Thinking back to the garden, I found some truth in what he said. I had wanted the forbidden stone more than anything else I’d ever seen. Even now, as half of it lay nearby in the fire, I began to feel an uncontrollable desire to command its power for myself. Still, I was not going to allow him to blame this on me; he had taken the stone. As persuasive as his words were becoming, I willed myself to ignore them.
“I don’t believe you,” I said, pushing my thoughts aside. On hands and knees I moved feverishly through the darkness toward the cauldron and Venator’s half of the Bloodstone. I could feel my chest tightening—a sign that I finally realized meant the Bloodstone was near.
“We are the same, Hunter—two halves of the same person. You made me who I am. You belong with the Shadow, there is no escaping it.”
“You’re wrong,” I said, gazing at the Bloodstone in the center of the mysterious green flames. “Once I find the second half, Aviad will complete the curse and the Shadow’s reign will be over.”
“But you already have the other half,” Venator said with a smile.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Did he actually think I was dumb enough to fall for that?
“The other half is hidden in the Lake of the Lost—I saw it myself.”
“No it isn’t. The other half is hidden inside you.”
My heart pounded at his final words. The stone in the fire began to pulse red with life. Somewhere deep within my chest, where my heart should have been, a soft red glow flashed in perfect rhythm with Venator’s Bloodstone. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing; it was the other half, hidden inside me that now shone through my skin. The Bloodstone wasn’t hidden in the lake as I’d thought; it was hidden in me. What I had seen in the surface of the waters was merely a reflection of the stone, buried in my own body.
The words of the prophesy came to life in a new light. I was the “body, dark and cold.”
“But…but…” I fumbled for words.
“Ironic, isn’t it?” Venator interrupted. “The very thing you have been looking for has been inside you all along. I hid it there when we escaped from the garden, when you stole the Bloodstone.”
As he continued to speak, I found myself staring down at my own glowing chest in disbelief.
“Now perhaps you understand,” he continued, “why we are united by the curse. We are the same person. You are to blame as much as I, Hunter. We are one.”
No longer could I dismiss his threats as the ranting of a lunatic. The evidence was too strong to deny. The black blood, my darkened reflection—all of it pointed to the truth that I was cursed by the Bloodstone and somehow connected to the Shadow, connected to Venator.
“I’m cursed?” I whispered, struggling to comprehend the weight of the situation.
“Oh, it’s not so bad,” Venator said in an almost sympathetic tone. He inched even closer to where I sat. “The Bloodstone offers much more than a curse,” he said mysteriously. “It also brings power…true power. Think of it, Hunter. As long as the Bloodstone remains broken it is yours to command. Imagine what you could do with a power so great.”
I thought about what it must be like to be as strong as Venator—to use the power he’d obtained to get even with those who had wronged me. I pictured myself confronting Cranton with newfound confidence and throwing him into the dumpster as he deserved. A satisfied smile crossed my lips.
Suddenly, a surge of energy blazed within me, racing through my body, down my arms, to the tips of my fingers. The sensation was almost electric and yet I felt no pain.
“You can sense it now, can’t you?” Venator asked.
I looked up, surprised to find he was now standing directly above me. I had been so mesmerized by his words, so caught up in my own visions of grandeur, that I hadn’t even noticed he had come so close.
“Stand back!” I shouted, thrusting my hand out toward him. To my shock a red surge of light flashed from my palm, hurling Venator backward with amazing force. His body slammed into a spire and fell to the floor just as I’d intended. I looked down at my own hand in amazement. The power of the Bloodstone was alive within me.
I expected Venator to be angry with my newfound power, but he stood up in sheer delight.
“Very good,” he laughed. “Now you see who you truly are—a god like me!”
“Stay away!” I shouted once more, threatening to send him flying again if he chose to step closer. He raised his hands, palms out toward me as if in surrender, a sign he intended no harm.
“You don’t want to fight me,” Venator reasoned. “You would only be hurting yourself. Accept who you are and join the Shadow in our cause. We were meant to rule together. I can teach you how to use the Bloodstone’s power to do even greater things.”
“Like what?” I demanded.
“Like bringing the dead to life,” he offered.
Immediately my eyes shot to where Hope lay motionless on the floor, her stomach ripped open from the wound I had inflicted. The guilt of what I’d done hung heavy on me; the thought of bringing her back and undoing my mistake was too much to resist.
“You can…I mean…I can do that?”
“Of course,” Venator assured me, “the Shadow are very adept at keeping the dead alive.”
I had never imagined wanting to work with the Shadow, but now there was nothing I wanted more than to fix what I had done to Hope. In that moment I felt no allegiance to any cause, no reason to resist. I was ready to commit myself to learning the power of the Bloodstone for Hope’s sake, even if it meant listening to Venator for the time being.
“Show me how!” I replied at last.
Venator smiled with obvious pleasure at my chosen path. “There is something you must do first.”
“What now,” I groaned.
“The book,” he replied. “I need you to destroy it.”
“What do you mean?” I asked suspiciously.
“It’s just a simple statement of your allegiance to the Shadow,” he reasoned.
“Destroy the book…” I was vaguely reminded of the phrase I had once heard whispered in my room. “Why should I?”
Venator was annoyed by the question. He tightened his fists into balls and tried his best not to sound angry.
“If you don’t the Codebearers will keep coming for you. Destroying the book will sever the Author’s hold on your life once and for all.”
“But the book was my link to this world. If I destroy it how will I ever go home?” I asked.
“You don’t need the book; it is only one of many paths to and from Solandria. Trust me, with the Bloodstone you can make your own way between the worlds.”
“But the Codebearers, my friends, they…”
“They are misguided fools who believe in an almighty Author who seems to delight in the suffering of good people. Have you ever thought about that? If he is so good and so powerful, why doesn’t he show himself? Why should the Author of this book be the only one who decides who lives or dies?”
“I don’t know…” I was about to say more, but Venator did not let me continue.
“Think of it, Hunter. With the Bloodstone you’ll be able to write your own future. You can undo what has been done. Until you release the book’s hold on you, the full power of the Bloodstone can never be yours. You’ll never learn how to bring Hope back on your own.”
I found the book and clutched it tightly in my hands.
“Go ahead, Hunter. Drop it in the flames and be done with this story once and for all,” Venator urged. “Take control of your life.”
His words inspired me to believe that maybe, just maybe I could indeed write my own future. Slowly, I moved toward the fire pit and held the book out over the flames. In that moment I thought back over all of the adventures I’d had since the book had found me. Amidst all the difficulties my journey had brought, I’d learned some pretty incredible things about myself. And I had made some amazing new friends along the way too.
The light from the fire reflected off the golden embossing on the back of the book, giving it the appearance of movement and life once more. I looked closer and noticed the arrow was moving steadily toward the eleventh symbol on the dial. I took a second look.
Suddenly, what I used to think were random scribbles took on new meaning. They were pictographs representing the stages of my journey, each one lining up with an event in the story of my life.
With a surge of excitement, I studied the outer dial in a clockwise manner.
The first symbol is easy, definitely a book. The second is a lake; could that be the Lake of the Lost? The third symbol is a door in the woods, the entry to Sanctuary, of course! The fourth looks like a T; no wait, there’s more to it, the hilt of a sword—my Veritas Sword. The next two are easy; the fifth symbol is obviously a dragon and the sixth a bird, Faith. But the seventh…now this one is a little more difficult to decipher. As I thought back over my journey it became more obvious…a prison perhaps? Yes, Belac’s prison where I met Stretch.
I could hardly contain myself now as I followed the rest of the symbols. The eighth is a letter of some kind…an A…for Aviad. The ninth is a serpent. The tenth is a castle, Venator’s stronghold; and the eleventh….
My heart skipped a beat as I focused on identifying the symbol the arrow had just slid to a moment ago. It was the Bloodstone, the two halves being united. The twelfth and final symbol was unrecognizable; try as I might I could not decipher it, but it didn’t matter. The message was clear; the Author had been in control of my fate the entire time. There was no second guessing; there were no surprises.
The story was moving forward in perfect time with his plan. The thought of it chilled me to the bone. The idea that somebody, somewhere knew exactly what I was going to go through even before I did scared me.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Venator urged me. “Drop it! Do it now!”
I lowered the book and gazed into the fire. A gleam of red light caught my attention in the flames. The other half of the Bloodstone was calling to me, beckoning me to hold it, to fulfill my purpose. The book had predicted what I would do; the Author had wanted this all along. The only question that remained was…did I want to do what the Author had planned for me?
“I can’t,” I said at last. “I don’t want to!”
“Don’t be a fool!” Venator demanded, obviously enraged that I was having second thoughts. But his threats were powerless now; without the Bloodstone he was no more than a boy.
I resolutely put the book in my pack and set my sights on the fire once more. With the power of the Bloodstone surging through my veins, I was determined to retrieve the half that lay in the middle of the pit. As I reached my hand toward the stone it began to rise out of the flames, spinning slowly through the air as it hovered over the fire in response to my will.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Venator asked nervously. “Leave the stone alone!”
I paid no attention to him; nobody was going to tell me what to do. I was calling the shots and my mind was already made up.
The stone floated over to my hand, stopping just short of my touch. Without a word I turned and began to walk toward the stairs to leave.
“Stop! You can’t just walk away.” I sensed desperation in Venator’s voice for the first time. “What are you going to do with the stone?”
“I’m going to hide it,” I replied, “somewhere it will never be found again, by you or anyone else. Your reign is over, Venator, and there’s nothing you can do about it. The power of the stone will be mine, and mine alone. I don’t need the Shadow, and I don’t need the Author. I am my own master.”
Before I could speak another word, the stone above my hand flashed with a brilliant angry light. It dropped into my hand, clinging to it like a magnet. At first it felt cool to the touch, then began to burn terribly hot, scorching itself into my palm.
“Aaaahhhh!” I cried out in pain, dropping my Veritas Sword to the ground. Instinctively, I reached with my free hand to pry the stone away. Instead, when I touched the glowing gem with my other hand, it bonded to the Bloodstone as well. There was no use fighting; the stone was having its way with me.
A pulse of energy shot through my arms, creating a conduit between the Bloodstone in my hands and the half in my chest. Suddenly, I was reminded of the vision I had seen of the thief in the garden. My confidence faded and I knew in an instant things were about to go terribly wrong.