The Dark

CHAPTER Twenty-seven



Arkarian


Lathenia is furious. She comes to the temple, surrounded by seven frolicking Great Danes. She rolls her eyes to the ceiling as if half expecting something to come flying down at her. She takes a few steps and finds herself within the inner octagonal base. A shudder passes through her as if someone is walking on her grave. But this is a ridiculous thought. Lathenia is eternal. The hounds, I notice, remain outside the octagon, several whine for her return, as if she is separated from them by some invisible force.

She has others with her, and they follow. The first is Marduke. He grins at me with his half-mouth. The four wren, who put me in this state, remain cowering by the door. Marduke bellows at them and they move forward, only to retreat again when his back is turned. There is also the boy Bastian, who keeps his eyes averted. And lastly, an old man.

It’s the old man who intrigues me. His long white hair and beard, grey eyes and stooped and frail physique, reveal his age. He stands in the background, and I sense that’s how he likes it. Only once do I catch his eye, but it’s enough to see his aura. He’s a Magician. A very powerful one. With talents different from anyone in the Guard, except possibly for one – Dartemis. The stories of Dartemis are only a legend, but seeing this old man makes me suspect there could be some truth in the ancient tale.

It’s clear now why my powers aren’t working. This Magician has thrown an enchantment over me. A strong magical spell. So why is he here now? Does Lathenia suspect the enchantment needs renewing?

She sweeps her hand in a wide arc. Sparks, in the form of a shower of electric detonations, spray from her fingertips, making me blink. ‘It seems I have underestimated your friends.’

I smile. It’s too hard not to. Not only are they alive, but they’re nearby and close enough to be a threat.

‘Allow me the pleasure of wiping that smile from his face, Mistress,’ Marduke utters by her side, his one blazing red eye staring straight at me.

She produces a whip and tosses it to Bastian. ‘I want Bastian to do it.’

Bastian looks at the whip, flicking a brief glance at me, then back to his mistress. ‘You want me to … to …?’

‘What’s wrong, Bastian?’ she asks in a mocking tone. ‘What weakness has generated inside you of late? What demons are you battling with?’ Her eyes flash brilliant blue as they flare in his direction. ‘I am your mistress! Don’t ever doubt it! I took care of you when nobody else would. Nobody! What is this doubt I see in your eyes?’

‘I don’t doubt you, Highness. I am nothing but your loyal servant.’

She looks at him with narrowed eyes. ‘Perhaps a night in the pit amongst real demons will help chase away the demons in your head.’

Bastian’s eyes flick around the room, colour draining from his face. He holds his hands out and steps backwards. ‘No, Mistress. Oh please no!’ He looks at me and the fear I see in his eyes makes me shiver. ‘I … I’ll do it,’ he hisses. ‘I’ll do anything.’ As if to prove his loyalty, he cracks the whip in my direction. It snakes at my feet, but doesn’t connect.

Lathenia stares at him with her eyes unblinking. She’s searching the boy’s mind, reading his inner thoughts. I find myself urging Bastian to conceal any doubts he might have with every ounce of strength he can find. Suddenly Lathenia inhales sharply, her eyes flashing fire. ‘Into the pit!’

Bastian screams out, ‘No! Don’t do this!’

‘I will release you in one hour. And you will be so grateful for my mercy, you will truly be my humble servant. For your destiny is always in my hands, Bastian. Think about that when you are running in those tunnels.’

With these words she waves both hands towards the pleading boy. He starts to disappear, but for seconds after he is gone his piteous screams reverberate in the room.

Marduke walks over and picks up the whip, keeping his one eye on me. ‘Shall I, Mistress?’

Lathenia pats Marduke’s hand as if she were petting one of her many hounds. ‘You will have your chance to deal with him soon, my pet. But before I have this mortal permanently exterminated, I have one more question for him.’

‘Don’t waste your breath. I won’t tell you anything.’

She comes over to stand before my chair. ‘Get up!’

‘That if I could,’ I mutter, but force myself to do just that, leaning heavily on the branch Bastian earlier gave me.

Her head lifts while she waits for me to regain my breath. ‘Answer me one last question, Arkarian, and I will ensure you live long enough to see your friends arrive.’

‘How generous of you.’

She ignores my sarcasm. ‘It’s a simple question, requiring a simple answer. Do so, and while you will not live long, you will see your colleagues one more time.’

Her offer is tempting. I would love to see Isabel and Ethan again, even for just one brief moment. But she is hardly trustworthy. ‘How do I know you’ll live up to your end of the bargain?’

‘It’s a risk. But ultimately the choice is yours. Death now,’ she pauses, glancing at the cowering wren half in, half out of the doorway, ‘or after you’ve said your final goodbyes.’

‘I’ll decide once I have your question.’

Her pale skin flares luminous as she tries to control her temper. ‘You will tell me the name of the man who fathered you!’

Her question both surprises and confuses me. Why is the knowledge of who fathered me of any significance? At least this time I don’t have to struggle with keeping my thoughts from her. ‘You know this is a question I can’t answer. I don’t know who either of my parents were. My mother—’

She cuts me off. ‘You know your mother. You met her recently.’

For a second she throws me. An image of the child, Charlotte, flashes before my eyes. And in my heart I realise the truth. ‘Why didn’t you kill her when you had the chance?’

‘I wanted to see who your father was.’

‘Of course, through your sphere. That would have been easy for you. You control the opening of the time portals. So why ask me the question? Why not just look for yourself?’

‘Why? Because the act of your conception was shrouded in a blanket of invisibility!’

This news stuns me so much that I find myself falling into the chair for support. To create a shroud of invisibility would have taken the powers of a Magician. So the legend of Dartemis must be true! He does exist, at least on some level, in some place, to have performed this enchantment to conceal the identity of my father. But why was this secrecy necessary? If my father was someone of importance, why was I abandoned after my mother’s death to be raised by peasants and soldiers?

‘Tell me, Arkarian, everything you know.’

I look up at Lathenia, lifting my hands. ‘I know nothing. I was raised by strangers, sent from one house to another.’

‘Surely someone from those houses told you something!’

‘Who would tell me anything? I was a foundling. I had no status.’

Her rage increases with every second she realises I can’t give her the information she wants. Of course the question arises, if I did know who my father was, would I tell her anyway? Even if this information was of no significance to anyone, I would die first.

Hearing my rebellious thoughts, Lathenia lashes out, striking me across the face with the back of her hand. The force of her simple slap sends me careering backwards.

From my position on the floor I catch sight of Sera, huddling beneath the table, head buried deeply in her hands. It’s the sight of this tortured innocence that forces a surge of anger through me, so powerful that for a second I feel it break through the confining bonds of the enchantment. Quickly, glancing up at Lathenia, I raise my hands and force as much energy in her direction that I can, considering my weakened physical state.

The room ignites with a flash of power that hits Lathenia front on, surprising her. She falls sideways, screaming. Staggering quickly to her feet she yells at her Magician. ‘Quickly, Keziah! Your magic has expired.’

I can’t let this opportunity pass. To try to fight them all is pointless; they would destroy me in an instant. But what if I use my wings? I might end up anywhere in this underworld, but surely anywhere would be better than certain death here, except perhaps for that ‘pit’ Lathenia sent Bastian to!

If I use my wings I’ll be leaving Sera, yet, what use am I to her in this state? It would be better to escape now with my powers, and return for her when the danger is passed.

I close my eyes and visualise the rocky escarpment by the side of the lake, and the path from here to there. The Goddess’s screams penetrate, stalling me. ‘Hurry, Marduke! He’s escaping!’

Marduke raises his arms. And from the doorway the sound of squawking breaks my concentration. Dozens of birds swarm in and head straight for me. I freeze at the sight. Their strange human-like eyes seem to devour me, and their bone-piercing shrieks slice into my consciousness.

Any chance of using my wings disappears as the focus I need to concentrate shatters beneath the onslaught of these strange birds as they attack me. I try to use my powers, emitting a burst of energy, and they scatter, hovering over my head. Some of them squeal and fly off. But Marduke sends them back to me, and Keziah begins to chant.

As I try to fight Keziah’s spell, my skin forms tiny bubbles, as if singed with hot oil. But my concentration keeps breaking as the birds attack, pecking at my flesh, and, where none is exposed, they dig away at my clothing until they find some. I try to beat them off, but there are just too many. They overpower me quickly and I fall to the floor.

Through all the noise of the screeching birds and Keziah’s chanting, I catch a glimpse of Sera, still hiding under the table, curled up in a tight ball, shivering violently. I would call to her, to give her comfort, but I don’t want to attract attention to her position. For now, at least, Lathenia’s main interest is me.

Keziah’s chanting finally stops, and the old man withdraws to the back of the room. After a series of rasping coughs he says, ‘He is contained, Highness.’

She motions to Marduke, who calls his flock of birds off me and sends them out of the door. As blood oozes from the fresh wounds all over my body, and I sense death can’t be far now, I find the strength to glare at Marduke one last time. There was good in this man once. He was a brilliant Guard – strong, sensitive and fiercely loyal. ‘Your skills have altered,’ I manage to gasp.

He laughs. ‘Would you like to see more?’ He points at me; instinctively I turn my face away. He makes a satisfied sound deep in his throat, then glances at Lathenia. ‘My Goddess has bestowed me with many talents, Arkarian. Some that you would never dream of.’

‘Why not put them to good use?’

‘And give up all of this?’ He flicks his fingers and a wave of green power distorts the air between us. It sizzles and crackles. He picks up one of the injured birds and throws it into the field of energy he has created. With an agonising shriek the bird explodes into dust.

‘I have something the Guard would never give me – as much power as I want.’ He turns his head and stares at the four accompanying wren, who haven’t stopped cowering and trembling since entering this place.

Marduke looks back at me. ‘See? The wren are scared of me.’

I try to get up, but find I have to hold on to the chair. ‘You gloat over the taming of the mindless?’

My taunt has him seething, but Lathenia puts a staying hand on his arm. ‘He has served his purpose, and soon his friends will find their journey was in vain. There is still much to do, including the torture of the treacherous wren that accompanies them. And if my suspicions are correct, we will get our revenge on the one who sought to take your life, my pet.’

‘Why not let them be?’ I call out. ‘Why not satisfy yourself only in my death. You don’t want the whole of Lorian’s rage on you. Kill one of us, not all four.’

Lathenia stares at me, and I think for a second she’s actually thinking about my idea. But then she says, ‘You mistake your self-worth, Arkarian. It seems I need to remind you of my goal. One day I will control it all, including the minds of mortals, wandering souls, creatures of the light, all the living, and the dead that inhabit the dark.’

‘Do you think the Tribunal will hand you all these worlds on a platter?’

She walks away, then slowly turns and gives a little laugh, one eyebrow lifting. ‘The Tribunal are having enough trouble overseeing the mortal world right now.’ She glances at her fingertips. ‘The Prophecy changes as we speak. And the tragic loss to the Guard of four of The Named will be sweet justice. A blow straight to the heart of the Tribunal, I’m sure you agree.’ She glances at me. I hold her stare – and my tongue. She’s right, and we both know this. But I won’t acknowledge how damaging the loss of four of The Named could prove. We are, after all, supposed to be the nine that protect Veridian, the nine that will go up against Lathenia in a battle that will end all battles once and for all.

‘My armies are growing stronger by the second. Can you say the same for yours?’

With these sickening thoughts she turns to Marduke. ‘Remember your promise to the wren.’ She glances at them, huddling together just inside the door. ‘Miserable cowards. It is I you should cower from and not a wretched spirit!’

Marduke’s eyes stay with the Goddess until she disappears, taking Keziah and the hounds with her. When he turns, a look of adoration lingers on his face, and I recall the last time I saw it – well before his face was sliced in half, the day his daughter was born, when he gazed upon her mother.

‘I am as I should be, Arkarian. Nothing you say or do now will change anything. The clock is ticking.’

‘It doesn’t have to be like this. You have the power to change. Don’t you see, you’re as trapped here as all the lost and damned souls that inhabit this world.’

His one eye flares brilliant red. ‘I am free!’

‘No, Marduke, listen to me—’

At my plea he throws his head back, arms stretched high, and gives an ear-shattering roar. When he finishes, he orders his wren to come and stand before him. They trot and leap over obediently, constantly peering around as they do. Once standing before their master, Marduke lays his hands over the tops of their heads, and they look up at him. ‘By entering this temple you have conquered your fears. Didn’t I tell you it could be done?’

They nod, almost too vigorously.

‘Am I not your master who knows all?’

Again they nod.

‘For your loyalty you shall be richly rewarded.’ He smiles at them, and with two simple words, puts my life into their hands. ‘Finish him.’