Two Worlds of Oblivion Page 12

  In front of her, Heck’s familiar shape moved in the half-light. It was a soothing image; strong Heck like a big brother who would fight for her. Only this time, she would fight with him. No one messed with Jem and got away without punishment. She would see to that.

  Behind her, Maray’s inexperienced footsteps echoed off the walls. Corey still didn’t approve of Heck’s idea to bring her. She understood that Maray wanted to be there more than anything, but wasn’t it a bit dangerous to bring an heir of the throne of Allinan like a lamb for slaughter? Even if it wasn’t about their friendship and the fear of losing another of the people she trusted, hadn’t Allinan suffered enough? Lost her queen to an insane quest for power, the current crown princess to a foreigner? And now, would Corey really be responsible if Maray, Princess of Allinan, never returned from their mission?

  Even if Maray didn’t know the first thing about Allinan’s history, the problems their society had overcome in the past centuries, the struggles the lower classes still endured due to Rhia’s reign of terror, she was unbiased, brought up in a healthier environment than the Allinan court—at least her will to sacrifice her own life to save someone she loved spoke volumes about her character. Corey wrinkled her nose at the thought of a life of equality and freedom. Hardly anyone knew Rhia was the tyrant. Even in their poverty inflicted by Rhia’s reign, the peasants still thought of her as their savior—most of them. To them, she was the same beautiful queen who Jemin and Heck had been adoring all their lives—until the incident with Jemin.

  Corey shuddered at the injustice. How could Rhia keep up her stand? What did she do for the people? Of course, she made sure the crops were enough so people didn’t starve, and she had her nobles who were enforcing her law… Didn’t they see the demons? Didn’t they feel how things were going downhill? Or were they blinded by illusions? But then, could one warlock truly be strong enough to fool an entire realm…

  “This way,” Heck turned to the left and led them further into the underground network, hand on his sword, and body tensed and ready to defend himself—and them.

  Corey wondered how Rhia had been able to hide the boiling conflict from her people for so long, for almost twenty years, since the first breach of dimensions. But then, what could surprise her? The nobles would do anything to stay in power. They would do anything to keep the regent they favored on a throne. She didn’t even want to know what Rhia’s supporters had been promised. Lands? More power? Higher titles? So far, there were only a few nobles who would risk standing up against Rhia. Heck and Jemin, hard to see them as nobility; they were too normal for that. Then there was Scott, Wil—her stomach squirmed at the thought of Wil; he was out there somewhere, commanded by Princess Laura to search for Jem. He didn’t know where to look, let alone would he stand a chance against Langley in his Yutu-form.

  “We need to get to Jem before something worse happens,” she said absently, and Maray grasped her hand reassuringly. It felt wrong. Corey’s concern was for Wil in this moment, when Maray was consoling her about Jemin’s absence and the danger he was in.

  “We’ll find Jem,” Heck whispered over his shoulder.

  Corey didn’t correct their assumption but hurried along after Heck, who was turning into a part of the corridors where more light brightened the space. There were two doors and Heck aimed for the right one.

  “What’s behind this one?” Corey asked, naturally curious but also weighing the options of escaping should problems arise.

  Heck shook his head, hand already on the right door. “No idea.”

  As Corey considered his response, Maray stepped out from behind her and laid her fingers around the knob of the door to their left.

  “No, Maray,” Heck stopped her, circling his fingers around Maray’s wrist and earning a sour glance from the princess. “We don’t have time.”

  Maray pulled her hand back as if struck by fire. She had been oddly contained; no attempts of negotiating her own plan, no objections or questions. All she did was follow Heck, a constant expression of fear etched into her young face, almost as if Jem’s absence had paralyzed her bravery. Where was the warlock who had cast a dome of fire this morning, the fearless Maray who was ready to take on anything to protect the ones she loved, for what she believed in? That Maray was someone her people would embrace when presented to the public. She would be a royal snatching the hearts of the masses, a compassionate princess who would one day make for a great ruler. But not the Maray she was now. That one would hide in her chambers when the thunder of her nobles’ rage would storm down at her.

  Corey stepped through the door after Heck, ignoring Maray’s silent reluctance as she pulled her forward by the hand.

  “Not far.” Heck led them further in. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they were waiting just around the corner.”

  At his last word, he ducked into the wall, pushing Corey back as a blade crashed down on the ground where he had stood a second earlier.

  Maray’s gasp in Corey’s ear told her that she hadn’t seen it coming, either.

  Heck swirled around at mind-blowing speed and pushed himself away from the wall, launching himself around the corner, sword above his head. The sound of the impact of Heck’s blade against a Thaotine armor told Corey that Heck hadn’t missed his target. There was a muffled scream and a heavy thud before Heck peeked around the corner, waving them forward.

  Corey pulled Maray along with her. She was surprised to feel the girl shaking behind her. Something was definitely wrong with her. This wasn’t the Maray she had gotten to know. Even that first time when she hadn’t known the first thing about her heritage, Allinan, or magic, she had negotiated her way through the evening. She had spoken up. She would have defended herself with her bare hands if necessary. Something was wrong.

  Corey tugged on Maray’s arm until she was next to her and looked deep into her dark-blue eyes. “I don’t know what is going on with you,” she hissed, “but you need to focus. You need to be ready. The moment we find Jem, he’ll need you more than he needs Heck or me.” Maray nodded absently. “He’ll rely on your skills.”

  Corey couldn’t tell if her words had gotten through, but now wasn’t the time to start a discussion, so she pulled Maray around and followed Heck along the corridor.

  Maray

  Corey’s grip on Maray’s hand was tight, uncomfortable. Her words had come as if through a haze; not the haze of traveling through dimensions but the haze in her head, which kept growing denser as they progressed into the underground hideout. What if they came too late and Jemin was dead? The diplomat in her who had recognized the situation to be not as devastating as it could be had shut down, letting all hope spiral into a darker place, and her arms and legs were numb with fear. She hadn’t even reached for her dagger when Heck had already fought off the envoy of the revolutionaries at the last corner. Now, she followed Corey’s lead and kept her thoughts to herself; thoughts that were dangerous. If they found Jemin alive, there would be the demand for her death in exchange for his safety, and with every step she took deeper into Langley’s hideout, she felt more ready. If she wanted it to be quick, one option was to kill herself. It would guarantee that none of them ever got their hands on her blood, and Rhia would never become that strong… and Jemin would never be in danger because of her again.

  Heck stopped abruptly, letting the two girls catch up with him, and held his finger to his lips while his head pointed to the right. His sword shimmered in the pale light of the corridor as he moved it to his side.

  “Dagger,” he mouthed and an expression of bewildered concern crossed his face as he noticed Maray’s absent stare.

  She saw him and at the same time didn’t see him; what she noticed were the shadows behind Heck that were drawing closer. Someone was moving around the next corner. Just as Maray was about to warn Heck, he spun around and launched himself past the corner. There was an exclamation of surprise and a brief thud that let Maray believe Heck hadn’t killed the revolutionaries but simply knocked them ou
t.

  “Come.” Heck peered pasts the corner and waved them forward.

  How many were down there? If Heck kept taking them out one by one, there might not be many left to fight where they held Jemin. It might even be easy to free him. The suffocated flame of hope flickered inside of her as Heck winked at her, smug.

  It couldn’t be long now. Maray recognized the corridor that led to the spare rooms where they had spent the night—where she and Jemin had shared their first kiss. She involuntarily shuddered. It seemed like months ago rather than weeks—

  As she was still pondering whether she would ever get to kiss Jemin again, a hand grabbed her arm, making her stop dead. Corey, still holding her other hand, turned to check what was going on, and a cross-breed of fury and relief flashed over her dark face.

  “Wil,” she whispered, alerting Heck, and Maray’s insides unclenched. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “I could say the same about you,” Wilhelm Pordin replied as he let go of Maray.

  She turned and faced the ginger-haired boy with suspicion. “How did you find us?”

  In response, Wil’s face turned a shade of red that resembled the color of his hair. “Princess Laura sent me to find Jemin. I was on the way out when I saw you…”

  Maray’s stomach tightened again. If Wil had spotted them without any of them noticing, who knew who else had seen them?

  Heck held his sword up, pointing it at Wil’s chest, the tip of the blade resting on the leather clasps of his cloak. “Are you really Wil Pordin? Or are you an impostor?”

  While Wil was still recovering from his crimson cheeks, Corey pushed Heck’s blade down with her flat hand. “He’s not an impostor, Heck,” she hissed and then turned to Maray. “As a trained warlock, I see through illusions more easily than others.” She shrugged, and Maray wanted to ask her to teach her how that worked, but they were interrupted by the sound of quick footfalls behind them in the corridors.

  “Quick.” Heck waved them forward and Maray noticed the muffled sound of a silently-drawn weapon behind her.

  “Why are we here?” Wil wanted to know as they hurried forward. “Isn’t Princess Maray supposed to be back at the palace?”

  “I located Jemin with a spell,” Corey explained in a whisper. “He is down here somewhere. They want to trade his life for Maray’s.”

  “Are you insane?” Wil accused all three of them but Maray in particular. “You can’t give yourself up to save a soldier.”

  Maray pretended she hadn’t heard his words and rushed further ahead, joining Heck at the front of their little group. She knew it was reckless to head out herself, and yet, she couldn’t leave Jemin’s fate to the hands of others, especially not if she was the reason he’d been taken.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Heck hissed. “I get why you’re here.” He grinned a Heck-smile. “I’d be disappointed if you hadn’t pestered me to help find him. Nothing if not noble of you to be ready to give yourself up for one of your subjects. Not that you are really going to give yourself up, are you? We’ll find another way.” He winked. “Because if you do, and Jem survives this, he might kill me for letting you come along.”

  Maray swallowed her guilt and trotted forward beside Heck until they were almost at the door to Langley’s room. They turned a corner to find a group of armed men and women blocking their path, each of them bearing the same surprised expression. Automatically, Heck’s sword wandered before his chest as he readied himself to defend them. Wil pushed past Maray and joined Heck at the front.

  “Stand down and no harm will come to you or the girl,” a woman with a blue cloak informed them, lifting her chin at Heck, Wil, and Corey. Her appearance wasn’t noble, and she was wearing something less elaborate than anything Maray had seen in Allinan so far. “Hand over the Princess and you may go.”

  Maray knew her time had come. She was going to give herself up for Jemin. It didn’t matter what her parents thought—even though it broke her heart that she would leave them behind, weeping—all that mattered was that Jemin was safe, someone who had proven nothing but his loyalty and love for her. She owed him.

  In the back of her mind, she could almost hear her father’s voice reminding her that there was more to life than impulses and desires; that she had to consider every angle before she made a decision. A month ago, she had thought that it had been his diplomatic nature that had made him point this out with every decision, no matter how insignificant. Now she knew better. It was because he knew she was destined to succeed her grandmother and mother on the throne of Allinan. Still, right now, nothing mattered but Jemin.

  “In your dreams,” Heck spat and sounded as if he was grinning as he stared death in its face.

  It came so quickly, Maray could hardly make out everything that was happening at once: one of the revolutionaries barked an order; the woman launching herself at Heck, flattening him against the ground while two others grabbed Wil, trying to tame the struggling red-head. Heck gasped for air as the attacker cut off his air supply with the flat of her blade. Maray fastened her hold on the dagger, and it resonated with familiar power. Her arm pushed forward as if moved by someone else’s hand and sank the blade into the woman on Heck with a slushing sound. He was back on his feet, coughing and cursing, stepping over the bleeding woman toward the others who were readying their weapons. Two men pushed past Corey, slamming her into the wall as they made their way toward Maray. Their blades, shiny and sharp, were pointing directly at her face.

  While behind them a fight raged, Maray realized this wasn’t a capture-don’t-kill mission; they were ready to execute her, and the dagger, no matter how blood-thirsty, couldn’t protect her from both of them. She knew next to nothing about sword fight, just the meek training sessions with her father, Jemin, and Heck, which left her vulnerable.

  What had she been thinking, coming down here herself? Of course: Jemin. Still, was she ready to die? A moment ago, she would have said ‘yes.’ But as Heck’s cursing grew more frustrated; Wil’s struggle, visible from the corner of her eye, grew weaker with every second; and Corey’s figure on the ground, barely defending herself from her attackers with a dagger and some sparks of magic which got lost within the struggling of arms and legs, Maray knew she wasn’t even remotely ready. What good would she do Jemin if she gave herself up, if she let the men slit her throat? She would never learn if Jemin had survived. Langley had turned on them once; there was no reason to believe he would actually keep his promise to set Jemin free. He might even end all of them—Heck, Corey, Wil, along with him—so no one would be left to tell the tale. The men had almost reached her, each of them eying her with anticipation.

  As fear built inside of her, rage was building, too. She thought of her incapability to defend herself, and then her eyes fell on Corey, who had brought her hands before her face, eyes closed, and a tiny flame had hatched from her palms. Brilliant. Maray took a deep breath. She had less than a second to decide and closed her eyes, shutting out everything—the sharp noise of blade on blade, the men’s threats to remain where she was, the smell of earth and humidity—until there was only Jemin; his expression, serious and beautiful, his eyes two bright-blue gems, set into warm alabaster. Gems. Her Jem.

  Maray’s palms heated up, and she felt the wave washing over her the way she had in the forest. Only this time, it was twice as strong.

  A scream brought her back to reality.

  “What are you doing?” It was Corey, who was there by her side, under a dome of fire with her, but her palms were empty, while Maray’s hands were the source of a volcano of flames, the dagger, still in her hand, a glowing shape of orange in the fire.

  The two men had shied back, battering their swords at Heck and Wil instead of daring to leap at the girls.

  “I don’t know,” Maray admitted and earned an unreadable sideway glance from Corey.

  “Try to control it,” she instructed. “Direct the flames. You can do it.”

  Maray closed her palms in an attempt to tu
ne down the flames, but nothing changed. The fire burned around them unyieldingly.

  “How?”

  Maray’s heart stuttered. Behind the curtain of flames, she could make out Heck and Wil as they were losing the fight.

  “I can’t.” She turned to Corey, sensing how her magic was getting out of control, her mind unable to focus on herself when Heck and Wil needed help—and she had help right there in her palms. “But I have an idea. Come with me.”

  Corey raised one eyebrow but didn’t ask and grabbed her forearm, attaching herself to Maray as she gingerly set in motion. The dome of fire moved with them, fanning out to the sides and scorching the walls.

  “Heck, Wil,” Corey called over the sound of metal on metal, “down.”

  The boy’s heads jerked toward them, bewildered at the image of half-flame covered Maray and Corey. The men who had launched themselves at the two boys stared for a moment, fear spreading on their features.

  Sweat was forming on Maray’s forehead as she pushed the dome along with her, close enough to burn the men the second Wil and Heck were on the ground. The dome reached upward from her palms, and if she was quick, she could slip it over the two boys before the men had a chance to regain their focus.

  “Corey,” she whispered. “Grab Heck and Will and bring them in under the fire.

  It took a mere second for Corey to understand, but she ducked down and out of the dome, darting forward to grab Heck and Wil by their hands— “Come!” —and pulled them down with her to drop back into the safety of Maray’s fire. The three of them pressed themselves against her, scared to catch fire, while Maray extended her hands as far from her body as she could.

  “She is the devil!” one of the men exclaimed at the other side of the flames. “Langley was right!” He darted forward, sword ready, and ducked to cross under the seam of the dome, but Maray was quicker. She let herself drop to her knees, lowering her hands to the ground, and the man ran right into the fire with a scream that reflected what Maray felt; a piercing sensation in her side as the man’s blade hit her body. She gasped, and her hands came to her side in a reflex while the man who had stabbed her kept screaming in pain as he caught fire.