Shattered Soul (27 page)

Read Shattered Soul Online

Authors: Angela Verdenius

BOOK: Shattered Soul
6.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Do you think I don’t know what the warrior is capable of?”

“You know what all darkness is capable of,” Fredrico answered carefully. “But do we have time to put the warrior through harsh paces when time is so short?”

“I will not have you interfere.” Twin orange glows came from the depths of the hood covering Phemar’s head.

There was tension in the air, a threat of violence, and it was aimed directly at Fredrico. There had been a couple of times when he’d been in an argument with Phemar, very rare, true, but the dark mystic had never reacted like this. He wo Ce ta could have gotten annoyed but to be so aggressive was not his way.

Something was wrong.

Veknor straightened at his side but didn’t move away.

Frowning, Rani looked between Phemar and Fredrico.

Phemar started to turn away, but swung back suddenly, flinging his hand out. Orange fire spat from his fingertips, an arc of lightening flaring and aiming straight for Fredrico.

Everything happened fast. Before Fredrico could dive away, the huge, horned shadow descended on him, a clawed hand wrapping around his upper chest, the hand so huge that it engulfed him entirely, the clawed thumb and forefinger meeting at the front of him, holding him prisoner for the searing, flesh-tearing light.

Veknor was flung away to crash against the wall.

Fredrico was picked up and slammed back against the wall.

The lightening seared upwards, then dove down towards him.

Everything so fast, too fast. His darkness welled up, but the orange lightening was faster, coming at him and -

“No!” Rani yelled. “Damn it, no!”

There was a blast of light, a dark orange shield that flared up over Fredrico’s upturned face just as the lightening almost struck. It struck the shield instead and shattered, flaring out in the same way as the demonic snake had done when it had hit his shield.

Only the shield didn’t stop. It sharpened, cutting, and the horned beast holding Fredrico roared in rage and pain, releasing him with a suddenness that dropped Fredrico to the floor.

There was a thunderous sound and the cavern shook, rock crumbling.

Fredrico looked up, his jaw dropping in shock to see Rani holding her hands straight out before her, the dark orange coming from her hands in a thin strip to form a shield between himself and Phemar.

Orange sparked in her eyes as she faced the dark mystic.

Phemar’s laugh was wheezing, pleased. “I knew you had it in you, warrior. I knew you had the power.”

As suddenly as it appeared, the shield abruptly vanished, leaving Rani looking in shock at her hands. A tendril of orange smoke spiralled out from her fingertips before winking out of existence.

Fredrico stood slowly, looking at Phemar. “That was your test.”

“Of course.” Phemar slid his hands into his sleeves. “It seemed that her own safety couldn’t trigger the power so it had to be something else.” His head angled slightly as he looked at Fredrico. “Interesting, is it not, that you were the trigger?”

“You can’t know that for sure,” Fredrico said, not surprised when Phemar laughed again, his breath hissing out.

“You played us.” Rani finally looked up from her hands to the dark mystic, her expression puzzled.

Phemar’s head turned in her direction, the amusement gone from his rasping voice. “I do what I have to, play who I have to, kill who I have to, to get the results I and The Overlord want. Remember that.”

Rani shook her hands gingerly.

Fredrico couldn’t tell from her face what she was thinking or feeling. The puzzlement was fading and being replaced with curiosity, but her innermost feelings were hidden.

“That day we took yo Cay hadu out to that area where you pushed back against The Darknen’s shadow,” Phemar said to Rani, his anger vanishing beneath his analytic pursuit. “You pushed against him. The beast that attacked you, you fought it. You fought the danger to Fredrico. You, warrior, need something physical to focus on.”

“So it would seem,” she replied warily.

“But you need to bring forth your powers when there is nothing to see.”

“I can’t very well fight nothing.”

“You can and will.” He gestured around them. “This room is full of invisible things that you might have to fight - look how tense you are.” He gave a wet laugh.

“Your pets aren’t things I want to play with.”

“My pets, as you so snidely put it, are your guardians when I give them that chore. Just remember that.”

“And yet I’m not comforted.”

Fredrico relaxed a little at her dry comment.

“Maybe you should see what you don’t see,” Phemar said.

Fredrico watched Rani’s face as she arched one brow and repeated, “See what I can’t see?”

“It might help you focus,” Phemar said.

Veknor’s face was stoic. “Here we go.”

Fredrico took a deep breath and braced himself.

Rani glanced across at him curiously.

Phemar snapped his fingers, a chunk of flesh dropping off his thumb with a wet slipping sound.

And the walls melted...

~ * ~

This is what Hell must look like. Shit, this must be Hell! Stunned, Rani stared around.

Fire seared her skin, great, rippling walls of it flaring here and there. The sky was a riot of red and black clouds clashing together. The ground beneath her feet shifted, steam coiling out from the cracks.

Stumbling, Rani came down on one knee, bracing one hand on the dirt and grabbing for her laser with the other hand. Feeling nothing, she looked down to see that her holster and laser had disappeared.

That bloody dark mystic had left her weapon less in Hell. Big surprise. An even bigger surprise was the calm that spilled through her.
Hell - no pun intended, ha-ha - if I can see it, I stand a good chance of killing it, right?

A roar rent the air and she twisted around to see a huge beast with three heads and gaping, teeth-filled jaws coming towards her. Clawed toes raked the ground and she tensed.

“Well, isn’t this just ducky?” she muttered as it came to a stop and eyed her. “This lesson is turning into a right bitch of one.”

“Why, Rani, my dear, I’m showing you what you can’t see.” Phemar’s voice came into her mind and she flinched as she could almost swear she felt a dribble of wetness inside her skull.

“I’ve seen enough,” she stated. “Point taken.”

“Oh no, not with you,” he replied. “Have a good look around, warrior. This is what you live in.”

A huge, cloven foot slammed down inches from her hand, and she lunged backward only to slam against a heavy calf. Looking up, she saw the powerful legs behind her, thick as tree trunks, long, disappearing under a tattered loin cloth Ced er hand,. A bulge the size of which she didn’t even want to contemplate met her disbelieving gaze. She tried to move away but was frozen, held in place by something she couldn’t see, and all she could do was look up and up, past a powerful chest, to a thick neck... and the head of a hideous beast. Great, curving tusks curled up to point towards coal-orange eyes, and the beast threw its head back and roared.

Reaching down, it wrapped its three fingered hand around her entire torso and lifted her up.

“Put me down!” She kicked and cursed, trying to thrust out, her hands so ridiculously tiny against the huge hand holding her.

Real fear almost had her, but anger burned as well.

Was this a joke? Was this Phemar playing with her mind? Was she imagining the whole thing and that slime ball was laughing at her? Were Fredrico and Veknor watching as she was probably grovelling on the ground in the cavern?

A shrieking pierced the air, something screaming down towards her, and she froze. Unbidden, her heart started to pound as dread swept through her. Wind lashed in a sudden thin stream, blowing past her, and she saw the phantom, saw the hideous face and the bleeding, eyeless sockets.

It flew towards her at astonishing speed and she was helpless to dodge as it slashed out at her, the phantom hand suddenly so very real, nails raking across her shoulders from left to right , the gouge marks immediately seeping blood.

That blood felt very horribly real.

“This is not in your mind, warrior.” Phemar was suddenly before her, floating in the air, a dull grey tinge around him. He lifted one arm, the tattered robes slipping back to show the rotten flesh of his forearm. “This is what you don’t see, Rani. This is what exists around you in the realm of The Overlord’s fortress, and it’s only a small amount of what is out there. Listen to the screams of the damned, and know that these shrieks and screams from things unseen are what you hear echoing at night through the halls of the fortress.”

“I get the idea,” she said, still not completely convinced the dark mystic wasn’t messing with her mind. “The fortress is like Hell.”

Phemar’s hood tipped back slightly and she inwardly cringed as she saw the grey and black skin of his chin, the maggot that wiggled from a gaping wound to fall to the steaming ground.

“My pets are your guardians when I choose. They guard the fortress, and they guard your life for as long as I see fit to have them do so.”

“The Overlord doesn’t get a say?”

“I do as he wishes. The moment you cease to be important to him, all my protection falls away and you are prey to whatever and whoever walks the halls of the fortress.”

“Comforting.” She tried to quiet her thudding heart.

“You talk big, Rani. You don’t like showing fear.” Phemar moved closer, the odour of rot filling the air. “But you’ll show fear soon.”

She just knew this was going to go badly but before she could say anything to try and appease the walking corpse, she felt herself lifted higher with dizzying speed, felt the fingers holding her fall away, and the big hand holding her tipped her off.

The scream that tore from her throat was an instantaneous reaction as she fell, the ground coming so fast, and she tried to turn, tried to roll, tried to get some semblance of balance before the ground could meet her body.

Tidth="11">She fell onto a calloused hand, the clawed fingers curling slightly upwards, and she rolled against the hard, leathery thumb. Wrapping her arms around it, she hung on as she was lifted high and fast into the air.

The growling laughter filled the air, the taunting cries of beasts that appeared through the smoke and flames. Huge, some with perfect bodies both male and female in anatomy, but with hideous faces from nightmares. Others were twisted, scaled, clawed. But all were demonic, their eyes red or orange, burning, teeth sharp, saliva wet.

Then she found herself face to face with the demon holding her. Still clinging to its thumb, she looked at the orange eyes and as they regarded each other, disbelief wound through her. Disbelief and shock.

And fear.

She recognized this beast, this demon. There was a kinship, a feeling of knowing.

This was the beast that had poured down her throat to fill her when she’d been brought back from her frozen state.

Part of this beast now dwelled within her.

“No.” She shook her head, clinging to its thumb even as she stared in loathing up at it.

The beast smiled, the tusks grey and dull in colour but sharp in point. “Raaaannnniii.”

“No!” She scrabbled back, felt its fingers curl protectively more around her, caging her in the cup of the leathery hand.

It brought her closer and closer still, until she was so close to its hideous face that she could reach out and touch it. The hot breath was moist against her face and even worse, it smelled of sulphur.

Shit, Phemar isn’t messing with my mind! I really am in Hell!

“Raaaannnniii mine,” it breathed. “Sister.”

“Sister?” she croaked almost hysterically. “I don’t bloody think so!”

“Sister.” It inhaled deeply, closing its eyes, sucking in her scent. “So pretty. Want to play. Want to play with Raaaannnniii.”

God above!
Rani looked over her shoulder. “Phemar!”

“So pretty.” The beast’s eyes flashed open, the orange deep inside flaring bright. “Want to touch. Take clothes off. Feel you, Raaaannnniii.”

“Phemar! Get your mouldy arse here now!”

The dark mystic appeared, his rotting hand lying upon the beast’s head. “Rani is yours to protect, remember? No playing, Ethmor. No touching or undressing. You kill anyone who touches her that is not of our ilk, understand?”

The beast licked its lips.

Rani shuddered. She was afraid of the beast all right, but not terrified. Afraid of what it could do to her, wanted to do, but not terrified of the beast itself. Odd.

Phemar looked at her.

Ethmor looked at her.

She looked back at them.

Phemar’s voice was wetly amused. “You’re not terrified, warrior, because you know Ethmor.”

“Protect,” Ethmor breathed hotly.

“As long as it’s all this thing wants to do.” Rani swallowed, eyeing the beast.

“For as long as it protects you, yes.” Orange sparks emitted from the darkness of his hood. “For as long as it pleases The Ct p as Overlord.”

Rani was under no illusions that once the protection was taken away she was going to be this thing’s play toy. The day that happened, she swore she’d kill herself first.

No, she’d kill Phemar and this beast first.

She felt the first stirrings of real anger, felt it melt her fear, felt it spike along her spine. She sat straighter then climbed to her feet, using one hand against the beast’s thumb. Looking it directly in the eyes, she said gratingly, “Don’t mess with me, Ethmor. Don’t ever touch me unless it’s warranted.”

Ethmor laughed, great gusts of deep, bellowing laughter that stank of sulphur and -
ewww, was that the stench of old blood?
Rani recoiled.

Orange eyes gleaming, Ethmor touched the claws of its other hand to its naked chest. “I protect. Raaaannnniii mine to protect. Always.” And it slashed its claws across its chest.

Blood, thick and black and reeking, spattered out over Rani. Swearing, she backed up against his clawed fingers and wiped a stream of it from her face, glaring up at Ethmor. “And you can stop that!”

“Blood oath.” Phemar’s gaze, though unseen, was assessing, his voice holding an odd infliction. “A blood oath is not given lightly to anyone.” His hood dipped as he turned his head to look at Ethmor. “Your beast likes you.”

Other books

Mortality Bridge by Boyett, Steven R.
Words Get In the Way by Nan Rossiter
Allies by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller, Steve Miller
Research by Kerr, Philip
Eximere (The River Book 4) by Michael Richan