Beyond Everlight: an Urban Fantasy Novel (Fearless Destiny Book 1) Page 11

  “You okay?” Brett asked.

  I nodded. I would be. I just needed to focus on something other than what would happen at the end of our journey. I focused on the mountains in the distance; white gleaming peaks tipped with cotton wool clouds under a mauve sky streaked with amber. I focused on my steps, muffled by the cushioning effect of the carpet of emerald grass which sprang back into place in my wake. Little orange blooms, four petals surrounding a crimson centre, dotted the blanket of nature like tiny embers, and the scent of citrus drifted up into the air with each step that disturbed the flora. The sun blazed down on us benevolently, its heat cancelled out by the fresh breeze that ran its questing fingers over my skin. And then there was the melody; a soothing hum on the air that cocooned my senses, calming the flutter in my chest and lulling me into a false sense of security. Twilight had allure in its every mote, and I let go a little, losing myself to the moment, to this place. My muscles relaxed a fraction, and the lead ball in my stomach melted away.

  A quick glance up at Brett’s profile showed me a tense jaw and lowered brows.

  He was on the alert, resisting the call of the land.

  Ever the Fearless.

  I sighed and pulled myself from the comforting embrace of my surroundings. This wasn’t a nature stroll, it wasn’t a little vacation. This was the path to my end, and I wouldn’t walk it in a daze.

  I nudged Brett with my elbow. “Do you know what happens now? Did they give you any . . . instructions?”

  Brett glanced down at me. “There’s a tavern up ahead. We’re instructed to escort you to it and then leave.”

  “You’ll be fed, and the food is exquisite,” the twilighter guard added.

  Laughter filled the air, and I realised it was the tithe up ahead. They were laughing. Strolling along, heads tipped up to the shifting sky and laughing as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

  My gut twisted.

  “Twilight can do that to an outsider—turn their head and claim their heart,” the guard said.

  Yeah, I could feel the tug, the invitation to do just that, but I focused instead on the sharp twinge in my leg, using my pain to ground me. The ground rose up ahead of us in a steep incline, and the line of now willing tithe climbed it, stumbling here and there and grabbing on to each other with smiles and giggles. I tripped, biting back a groan as fire lanced up my thigh. Brett’s arm wrapped around my waist, and I resisted the urge to shake him off. There was no valour in false pride. I allowed him to help me up the rise, leaning on him to minimise the discomfort.

  It would be over soon. The dead didn’t feel pain.

  A whoop filled the air and I looked up, squinting against the blazing sun, to see a few tithe silhouetted at the top of the rise. They must have spotted the tavern. They hugged and then raced away down the other side of the hill and out of view.

  My chest ached for them, for me. Maybe it would be better to succumb to the allure, to laugh and be free of the fear.

  Don’t be afraid, Kenna, promise me you won’t be afraid.

  I wouldn’t be afraid, but I wouldn’t do it by hiding behind a lie either. I blinked away the temptation. Fearless didn’t hide. We didn’t run. We faced what was coming head on. Blane may have signed the discharge order but that didn’t change who I was . . . who I’d chosen to be.

  I pulled myself up straighter, leaning less on Brett as I crested the rise. Below us lay a valley wreathed in lavender and buttercup blooms. A brook gurgled melodically as it wound its way along the foot of the rise, vanishing behind a quaint little building of thatch and stone. Twirling plumes of smoke rose from its chimney, and the aroma of bread and spice competed with the scent of nature.

  The neat line of tithe had disbanded into a cluster as they whooped down the hill toward the brook and headed for the arched stone bridge that would carry them across.

  “We’re here,” Brett said.

  Two words that acted like weights around my ankles.

  “You know what, I’m really not hungry.”

  “The meal is a strict requirement,” the guard said.

  Probably laced with poison, or some other drug to make us compliant, not that we needed a drug in this place, but I knew I’d eat, because I couldn’t let Lindrealm down. My stomach churned as we made our way down the rise. How the heck was I going to eat anything feeling like this?

  ***

  The inside of the tavern was an assault on the senses. A multitude of aromas, all mouth-watering and compelling, filled my head. An explosion of colours in the form of beads, scarves, and glittering stones hung from beams and twined around balustrades.

  I fingered a string of beads coated in glitter. “Looks like a rainbow threw up in here.”

  Brett snorted.

  “Erebus demands we welcome the tithe with a feast for the senses. He demands we treat them with respect.”

  “And how does a djinn have any control over what occurs in your lands?”

  “These are the outlands—officially unclaimed—the residences are free to fraternise and ally with whomever they wish.”

  “So who do you, the guard, work for?”

  His lips curved in a smirk. “Erebus. For now.”

  Someone was talking, giving some kind of welcome speech, and then we were being ushered to a long table laden with food. I took a step forward and Brett gripped my elbow.

  “I have to leave now, Kenna.” His eyes were dark pools of goodbye.

  My heart sank and an ache filled the back of my throat. “Already?” I hated that my voice trembled. I hated that it made me sound weak. I cleared my throat. “Yeah, be safe bud.”

  His throat bobbed. “Listen to me. You’re strong. Fearless. And if there’s a way for you to come back from this I know you’ll find it, and I’ll be waiting.”

  They were fighting words. Words that stoked the flame of hope that mum’s assurance had sparked to life in my chest. But I didn’t trust myself to speak, afraid the quiver in my voice would betray me, because right now, in this moment as he prepared to leave me in this strange land, I didn’t feel very fearless at all.

  He pulled me close and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “Laters, bud.”

  I gripped his shirt, my eyes pricking. “Laters.”

  He took a step back, and I reluctantly released him.

  Lisa walked past us, catching Brett’s eye. With a final lingering glance that held in it a world of conviction, he turned and followed her out of the door.

  I stood staring at it for the longest time, and then a gentle caress to my elbow jolted me out of my trance.

  “Eat something, it will be time soon.”

  The other tithe sat at the long wooden table, chattering amiably as they piled their plates with meat, vegetables, cakes, and fresh warm bread. Goblets were topped with red fruity wine. The atmosphere was celebratory. I joined them, my stomach cramping with anxiety. I exhaled, desperate to fall under the same spell now that Brett was gone, but the allure seemed to skirt around me, leaving me alone, bereft and completely lucid.

  “You must eat,” the guard at my shoulder said.

  I picked up a roll and bit into it. Flavour exploded on my tongue and suddenly I couldn’t imagine not eating. I piled my plate high with a little of everything. The next few minutes passed in a haze of chewing while swimming through a river of frivolous conversation. It was happening, I was losing myself. Warmth seeped into my fingers and toes, penetrating the dark knot of foreboding in the pit of my stomach and tugging it loose.

  The door behind me slammed open and a cool breeze ruffled the back of my head. A voice boomed over the bubbling conversation.

  “Are we ready then?”

  The pleasant floaty feeling evaporated. Great. I turned in my seat to glare at the intruder. He strode toward the table, his grey eyes raking over us. He was at least six and a half feet tall and stocky, with long grey hair pulled back in a queue. A heavy beard, laced with grey, covered the lower half of his face and his pointed ears were decorated w
ith several hoops. He locked eyes with me, his brows shooting up. And when I refused to look away his bushy brows snapped down.

  “What you looking at?” he growled.

  “I could ask you the same thing.”

  Someone, still intoxicated by the bounteous meal, giggled. The bearded man’s eyes narrowed.

  He bared his teeth and snapped them in my direction. “Impudent tithe, be silent!”

  My pulse jumped, but I curled my hands into fists and held my ground.

  He strode over until he was towering over me. “Did you eat?”

  I held up my almost empty plate.

  His gaze dropped to it and then scanned the rest of the table, probably taking in all the dazed gazes and soft smiles. Maybe I’d been right, maybe there was something in the food as well as the air. Then why hadn’t the effect lasted on me? He moved on to the others, running his eyes over them, growling and generally trying to intimidate them. Didn’t work though, they just giggled and went back to their goblets and plates.

  The knot was back in my stomach, and this time there would be no unravelling it. I just wanted this crap over with. If I was going to die then so be it, but I was done with the blade hovering over my head.

  I pushed back my chair and stood. “For goodness sake, can we cut the theatrics and get on with it? If I have a date with death, then I’d like to bloody get it over with.”

  The mention of death seemed to lift the lethargic haze that had fallen over the tithe. Someone gasped, and a murmur of apprehension rippled up and down the table. The big guy turned to glare at me, but I had a pretty damn good glare of my own in place. I was done being intimidated. Blane had strong-armed me into this position, but from here on I was doing things on my own terms, even if it meant dying a little bit quicker.

  “Well?” I asked.

  He strode over to me and stopped barely an inch away. “You want to die?”

  I lifted my chin and stared him square in the eye. “Of course I don’t want to die, but if I have to, then I’d rather do it on my terms.”

  His lips curved in a smile that could only be described as smug. “Very well.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a huge black gem. “You can be first.” He cupped the back of my head and slammed the gem against my forehead.

  The world went dark.

  CHAPTER20

  I opened my eyes to sunshine and the smell of freshly baked scones.

  Mum was baking.

  Awesome.

  I threw off the duvet and swung my feet to the ground.

  My curtains were open, fluttering in a gentle breeze, and the sky outside was cornflower blue. I could get up and go downstairs. Speak to mum and eat some scones. I could walk out of my room and into Bella’s. Kiss her on the forehead and tell her how much I love her.

  I could do a ton of things but it wouldn’t matter, because this was a lie.

  I’d realised it as soon as I’d swung my feet off the bed.

  I reached down and ran my hand over the smooth skin of my leg—the leg that I no longer had.

  I glanced up at the ceiling. I didn’t know what this was, but it wasn’t real. Blane was real, what he’d asked me to do was real, and the bearded Twilighter who’d slammed a black gem into my forehead was real.

  Time to wake up.

  My world wavered and winked out.

  I burst back into reality, gasping for air, arms flailing. Water . . . My body was reacting even before my mind had caught up to my predicament, and I was swimming toward a ledge. Things bumped into me, jostling me. No time to stop and see what they were. I wanted out!

  My fingers made contact with the granite ledge and I hauled myself onto solid ground. The pool I’d escaped gleamed with an inner light, and the contents . . . Oh fuck . . . Bodies, too many to count, floated in the amber tinged pool, the diameter of which was easily twenty-five metres. The ones closest to the ledge I recognised—they were all members of the most recent tithe. Danny had to be here somewhere. Should I climb in and look for him? What would I do even if I found him? It wasn’t as if I could get him out of here. I was a prisoner with a job to do.

  There had to be something in this chamber, some clue as to what was going on. The bodies looked alive, as if they were simply sleeping. Could they be in a strange dream state similar to the one I had been in?

  A thick column made from some kind of iridescent material jutted up from the centre of the pool. It reached up to a ceiling so high, it was impossible to see what lay on the pinnacle of the column. There was definitely something there though, because the ceiling above it flickered and glowed with tawny light.

  I needed to know exactly what was casting that glow.

  There had to be a way up there. A quick scan and I spotted the staircase. It was set in the stone wall and was so narrow that it almost blended into it. It wound up until it connected with what looked like a bridge leading to the top of the pillar.

  I pulled myself up and buckled, taking my full weight on my good knee. Shit. My trousers were sopping wet and it was an effort to roll the material up to expose my prosthetic. The straps had come loose in the water. Two seconds to secure them and I was back on my feet, testing my weight to make sure it was secure. There was no point rolling my trousers back down, they were clingy, wet, and gross. I could be caught at any moment, and I needed to know what was at the top of that column.

  This was Erebus’s domain. I needed to gather as much intel as possible before they found out I was free from their strange dream pool. Pressing a finger to my ear I tried to locate the chip they’d put there, but the tiny pinprick bud was gone.

  Fuck!

  It had probably become dislodged in the water—so much for reporting back to base.

  Fuck ‘em.

  I headed for the stairs regardless and climbed, hugging the wall to keep my balance. Each step sent a lance of pain up my thigh, but I gritted my teeth and pressed on. The bridge drew nearer, bringing my goal closer. Below me the sleeping bodies swaying gently in the pool grew smaller. One wrong misstep and I’d go tumbling to my death, but it was all right because I was almost there, almost . . . I stepped off the staircase and onto the bridge—seven feet wide and ten metres in length. I could see it now, the object that was setting the ceiling on fire, but I needed to get closer to confirm my assessment. Several steps down the bridge, and there was no doubt in my mind that the object was a live flame. So bright, so vivid, so enticing, that it made me want to reach out and touch it.

  Was it my imagination or was it flickering faster? Was it leaning toward me? I took another few steps, bringing me close enough to reach out and touch the glass that encased it. I did just that, my fingertips grazing the surprisingly cool surface of the barrier. The flame leapt up, expanding to three times its size.

  I jumped back, lost my balance, and fell hard on my bottom. The flame shrank but my heart continued to hammer against my ribcage.

  A shift in the air followed by a drop in temperature alerted me to the fact that I was no longer alone. I scrambled to stand as a figure materialised on the bridge.

  Oh shit!

  Erebus, in all his glory, barrelled toward me. There was no point in evasion. Nowhere to run, so I stood my ground, biting back my squeak of fear as he grabbed me by the shoulders and lifted me off my feet.

  “How are you awake?” He pulled me close, his silver eyes boring into me invasively. “Tell me!” He shook me, rattling my bones, sending pain shooting through my limbs. I pressed my lips together, determined not to cry out.

  He growled and threw me to the ground.

  I landed awkwardly, my prosthetic leg twisted at a strange angle.

  He glared down at me, cocking his head as his eyes raked over me. “I know you . . . I know your face,” his tone softened but not in a comforting way. “They sent you.” His eyes narrowed and then his gaze fell on my prosthetic leg. “What is wrong with you?”

  My cheeks heated with shame, and anger lanced through me, replacing the pain. “None of your da
mn business!” I grabbed the leg and roughly adjusted it.

  He took a step forward and fell to a crouch before me. I kept my gaze down, not wanting to see that ferocious visage up close again.

  “Your leg . . .” His hand reached for my prosthetic, and I lashed out, slapping at his hand.

  He froze.

  I froze.

  Oh fuck.

  Slowly I raised my chin to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. I just . . . just don’t touch it.” My throat was so tight with fear that my voice was a strangled whisper. I was so dead.

  He blinked down at me and then retracted his hand. “What happened?”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. I didn’t want to talk about this. “It doesn’t matter.”

  I expected him to press, to demand an answer, but instead he pulled himself to his full height and looked down his nose at me. “Since my dream vessel seems to have no effect on you, you may as well come with me.”

  I blinked up at him. Was that it? He wasn’t going to strike me dead? And then another thought occurred to me—maybe he didn’t think me worth the effort. The anger was back. I yanked at the straps of my prosthetic until they were painfully tight and then pulled myself to my feet.

  “I was a spy you know.” I had no idea why I said it. Maybe I wanted him to take me seriously, or maybe I just wanted him to look at me like I mattered, either way it was a stupid idea because his shoulders tensed and he turned slowly to face me again.

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  He cocked his head. “And how did you expect to relay the information you found?”

  I swallowed. “I had a device in my ear . . . It’s gone now.” I glanced down at the pool “Must have dislodged in the water.”

  “Let me get this straight, you were tithe, so you are no longer Fearless. You lost your device, so you are no longer a spy. So, what are you little human?” He leaned in. “You are simply a fragile woman with only one leg. You are nothing.”

  Heat bloomed in my chest sudden and fierce, my hand whipped up coming in contact with his cheek with a crack that reverberated throughout the chamber. This time there was no surge of terror in the wake of my action, no remorse, because he was right. I was nothing and I hated it.