A City of Lies Read online

  Harper

  (Daughter of Hazel & Tejus)

  As soon as we reached the rogue Imen’s settlement, Caspian was taken to the side and placed inside a sturdy iron cage, while Vesta motioned for us to move forward. A large tent awaited ahead, beyond the campfire.

  “Is that really necessary?” I raised an eyebrow at her, and she responded with a shrug.

  “Like I said, be thankful we’re not killing him,” she replied. “It’s not often we get a Mara Lord walking into our village. We have younglings and defenseless elders to protect.”

  I scoffed and followed her as she led us deeper into the settlement, with Hansa and Jax right behind me. We were greeted with wary murmurs and wide, curious eyes. Children hid behind their mothers, and young male Imen stepped forward, holding their spears in sight. Their message was clear, imprinted on their faces. One wrong move and that was it.

  It was neither my place nor my inclination to explain how quickly just Jax and I, fully grown adult vampires, could kill them, if given no other choice. We were here to get answers, not to measure our battle prowess.

  We were taken into the large tent, where three Imen stood. They were in their mid-fifties, with long, dark hair braided with orange thread. Dark green cloaks covered their bodies, and a multitude of painted wooden medallions hung from around their slender necks. The one in the middle was a male, with a stern look in his brown eyes, while the other two were females, and just as unyielding and concerned about our presence here. They gave Vesta a questioning glance.

  “These are the outsiders who helped us get our people back the other day,” she explained briefly. “The Mara who was with them is in a cage outside. They claim him as their friend.”

  “Why is he still breathing, Vesta?” the male asked.

  “Because he is here to help us,” I replied, keeping my chin up. “He’s risked his life for us to get here. His loyalty is indisputable to us, and he will not hurt anyone here.”

  “Speak for yourself, little girl,” the female on his left shot back. “We’ve known his kind for millennia. They are anything but harmless.”

  “I’m trying to be respectful,” I said, my teeth gritting and my anger bubbling just beneath the surface. “I would appreciate the same in return.”

  “I think we’re getting off on the wrong foot here.” Hansa stepped forward, accompanied by Jax. The three Imen immediately glowered at him, then at Vesta.

  “He’s one of them! Why isn’t he in a cage, Vesta?” the male growled.

  “He’s not from Azure Heights. He’s an outsider,” Vesta replied with a frown. “He saved me and my people! And so did Lord Kifo. The only reason he’s in a cage is because I don’t want the three of you going mental on me before you even listen to what these people have to say.”

  Several seconds went by as our groups measured one another from head to toe, making mental assessments. I tried to figure out the best way to proceed with what was already a fragile conversation. I took a deep breath, then offered a polite nod.

  “I’m Harper Hellswan, a vampire. This is Hansa Gorria, a succubus, and Jaxxon Dorchadas, a Mara, both of Calliope. They belong to the world which expunged the Maras of Azure Heights thousands of years ago,” I said, trying to keep things as brief as possible. We needed to get answers, fast.

  “Calliope belongs to Eritopia, a galaxy very far away,” Jax added. “Harper here is from another world altogether. Her people established GASP, a group dedicated to protecting the innocents throughout this vast universe, including yourselves. We’ve aligned ourselves with them, as we wish to bring peace and balance to the many worlds around us. Yours is one of them.”

  “You mean to tell us that the Maras are a peaceful people, where you come from?” the female on the right asked, genuinely surprised.

  “Yes,” he replied. “We had our dark days, but they came to an end when we exiled those of us who wanted to kill others for blood. That happened thousands of years ago, and we never heard from them again until last week, when they reached out to us for help. We are here to investigate the disappearances that have plagued Azure Heights, but what we’ve uncovered so far is much worse than what we thought.”

  “They think the Maras are the victims here.” Vesta raised an amused eyebrow at us, and suddenly I felt like the biggest stooge in the tent, for no apparent reason. What was she implying, exactly?

  “You don’t even know the half of it, then,” the male Iman said, then gave us a curt bow. “I am Amund, and these are Eristhena and Ledda. We lead this tribe of Free People. Welcome to our humble Ambra. Or what is left of it, anyway.”

  “Ambra?” I asked.

  “It was once a glorious, beautiful city about fifty miles from here to the west. Only ruins stand in its place today,” Amund replied.

  “What happened to it? And why don’t you think the Maras of Azure Heights are victims? Their people have been taken by daemons, just like yours,” Hansa interjected.

  Amund wore a bitter smile as he motioned for us to sit down on a bunch of cushions that Vesta placed on the floor. We settled onto them, and they took their seats in front of us. Vesta came next to me, sitting so she could see all of us at once.

  “I’m afraid the people of Azure Heights have deceived you,” Amund said, while Eristhena and Ledda nodded slowly, their gazes fixed on Jax. I figured they were having a hard time picturing him as our friend, judging by the still-surprised looks on their faces. “You see, we have been fighting both daemons and Maras for millennia. Our people are a commodity for both species. We are food.”

  My stomach dropped as the horrible truth sank in. Even without any further details, certain snippets of what we’d seen so far started to fall into place. And the picture I was getting turned my blood into ice.

  “It wasn’t always like that,” Amund continued. “The daemons used to eat raw flesh, hunting animals and leaving us alone. One of their witch doctors, a crazy old fool by the name of Tural, discovered a way to consume souls, so he could keep himself younger. They already lived long lives. Some even made it to five thousand years before giving their last breath, and yet… it wasn’t enough. At first, the daemons were shocked and rejected Tural, but he managed to persuade the others to do the same. Mind you, this was before the Maras arrived. They started hunting us for our souls, and our world started to decay, slowly but surely.”

  “They were stronger, faster, and downright vicious,” Eristhena added. “We didn’t stand a chance, at first. As Imen, we built beautiful things, we worshipped nature, and we said grace for another day spent in this beautiful world. We didn’t care for wars and violence. The daemons, on the other hand, seemed born for it.”

  “Then the Maras came,” Ledda said, “in a ball of light. At first, we thought they were our saviors. We looked to them for help. And, in return, they killed us off, one by one, so they could drink our blood. It just went from bad to worse for the Imen. The Maras settled on the mountain and forced our people to build their city for them. Thousands died so Azure Heights could rise.”

  “In the end, we were forced to fight off attacks from both the daemons and the Maras. Our allies perished over the centuries. The Tolmacs, the Forest Spirits, the Daeris… As mighty and as wonderful as they were, the Maras’ mind-bending and the daemons’ claws got them in the end. Only we, the Free People, remained. Soon enough, both the Maras and the daemons were competing over us, while our numbers continued to drop.”

  “Wasn’t there a truce between the Imen and the daemons?” I asked, remembering the totem in Shaytan’s palace.

  “For six full moons, yes,” Amund replied. “But their addiction to souls was too strong. Then, shortly afterward, the Maras came. It was open season, really. We’ve been stuck between bloodsuckers and soul-eaters for thousands of years. They started capturing our people, forcing them into gated camps, forcing them to breed so they could have a steady supply of blood and souls. It went on like that for a long time, a wretched alliance of daemons and Maras. Until a coup
le of years ago, when they realized that their hunger was too strong for our species. We went from millions to a few thousand left standing today.”

  “By the Daughters…” Hansa gasped, her lower lip trembling, her eyes wide with horror.

  “About three hundred years ago, the Maras learned a new trick from the daemons,” Eristhena continued. “They consumed their first souls, and… they were hooked.”

  “Why? We’re immortal.” Jax frowned. “There is nothing for us to prolong by eating souls.”

  “It’s the high,” Amund replied. “The soul is a delicacy. It’s pure energy flowing through one’s veins. It gives them strength and vitality, and a feeling that everything is good and wonderful in the world. They became addicted to the alternate realities that they see when they consume souls… It’s heartbreaking, really. We’ve watched so many of our own reduced to leathery corpses because the Maras wanted to ‘get a taste of the heavens’, as they called it.”

  “What about the Imen held captive?” I asked, my voice weak, my spine stiff.

  “Imen bred in captivity didn’t live for too long,” Ledda explained. “They mostly died young, followed by mass suicides. There was no point to living, was there? All they ever saw was a patch of sky and the fangs of Maras and daemons. Their horrible attempt to treat us like cattle didn’t last forever. Their food sources have been dying out.”

  “What about the Imen living in Azure Heights?” Jax replied.

  “Their brains are wiped.” Amund sighed. “They’ve been mind-bent out of… well, out of their minds. They’re puppets, with clear sets of commands. They live under the illusion of a normal life, but, as soon as the clock strikes midnight, the Maras start to feed on them—mostly for blood. The ones they imprison are used exclusively for their souls. But the ones in the city are thoughtless and submissive, and they all die young. Few get to be in their forties. You see, repeated exsanguination leads to a disease they refer to as—”

  “The slumber before death,” I croaked, finally seeing everything clearly for the first time. My heart thudded as I thought of my friends back in Azure Heights, not knowing what fresh hell they’d been left in. And then my mind wandered over to Caspian. He knew. And I couldn’t even process that yet.

  “Exactly.” Amund nodded. “Gradual consumption of blood weakens us, and our hearts eventually give up.”

  Hansa, Jax, and I stared at each other. It all made sense in the most heartbreaking way. And, judging by Jax’s livid expression, he was taking it the hardest. It was no wonder, since his people had exiled these Maras to show mercy.

  “We sent them away because they swore they would do better,” he muttered. “If my grandfather… If we’d known what they would do to your people… I swear, Amund, we would’ve killed them all, right then and there. I am so sorry.”

  “I doubt your people knew exactly how vicious these Maras were. They put on a good show, don’t they?” Amund scoffed, shaking his head.

  “Wait, what about us? Why are we here, then?” I asked, suddenly alarmed beyond any form of self-control. “They came to us, asking for help. Their people vanishing… Was that a hoax, too?”

  “More or less,” Amund replied. “They tend to make those who disagree with them disappear, if they cannot control them. And I’m not talking about the Imen anymore. Perhaps this will ease your Mara friend’s mind. Not all Maras are evil. Some really wanted to just live off the blood of the animals. Those who object to Azure Heights’s practices, however, tend to… disappear. They’re usually stuffed in that wretched prison of theirs or, worse, handed over to the daemons. A Mara’s soul tastes particularly good, we hear.”

  “Oh, wow,” I managed, rubbing my face with my palms, as if hoping it would wake me from what seemed like a nightmare.

  “We are dying out,” Ledda said. “The Maras and the daemons are conspiring to bring other species to Neraka. They started with you, a small group, to test their alliance and see what the best way would be for them to bring over a few dozen Eritopians and force them to breed in captivity.”

  “Like they did with the Imen,” Hansa murmured.

  “Exactly,” Vesta replied. “They’re hoping that other species, such as the Eritopian Maras, the Tritones, the Bajangs… whoever they can get their hands on, really, can withstand life in a cage better than the Imen.”

  “How do you know about the Tritones and the other species from Eritopia? What have you heard? Where did you hear it from?” I bombarded her with questions.

  “We have ears all over. We hear them, sometimes, when they’re out hunting in the gorges, when they think no one is listening.” Vesta smirked. “You thought the daemons owned the Valley of Screams? A handful of our own have learned to move through the ravines completely undetected. They’re not invincible, you know.”

  “By the Daughters,” Hansa blurted. “The Druid delegation, the swamp witch magic!”

  “Ah, yes.” Amund nodded. “The worst thing to ever happen to this planet. They crash-landed here thousands of years ago. They hoped the Maras would help heal their swamp witch, so they could be on their way… Poor souls. They never made it out. We don’t know for certain what happened to them, but we are certain that the swamp witch is still alive, somewhere on this planet. Maybe in one of the daemon cities.”

  “We don’t know what happened to the others, but we’ve assumed it’s where I hail from.” Vesta shrugged. “Like I said, I don’t remember anything from the moment Amund and the others found me, facedown in the river, but we think my parents were part of that delegation, and that they somehow escaped, had me, and… I don’t know…”

  “You mean to tell me the swamp witch is still alive?” Hansa replied, her eyes nearly popping out, before she looked at Jax. “Do you know what that means?”

  “First of all, it means they’ve been somehow holding her hostage for her magic,” Jax muttered, piecing everything together, while the Imen nodded. “And she hasn’t been giving them everything at once, otherwise they would’ve already killed her. We didn’t know much about the swamp witches’ magic, about how it actually worked, back when we exiled these bastards. Chances are they don’t know that they could perform all the swamp witch magic without… well, without the swamp witch.”

  “It means she was smart. She is smart, and keeping herself alive. And she’s the very last of her kind, too,” Hansa added.

  “Then all these disruptions… Telluris not working, the interplanetary spell, the invisibility spell, the charmed collars… It’s all because of swamp witch magic, isn’t it?” I concluded, my stomach sinking lower.

  “Let me guess, they blamed the asteroid belt?” Vesta replied, the corner of her mouth twitching.

  “You know about that?” I murmured.

  “Of course,” she scoffed. “It’s just the stuff of legend… mostly. Sure, the asteroids do help with concealing our planet—we know that much from the Imen’s history—but it does nothing to prevent whatever spells you’ve attempted so far. That’s all swamp witch magic disrupting you. They don’t want you reaching out to anyone for help. They want to be in full control. And yes, they want you in cages, most likely making babies, so they can replenish their food source.”

  “That sounds… ugh, just sick.” I fought to hold back the bile from coming up through my throat, as I could finally see Azure Heights for what it was. A most terrifying place, a nightmare with beautiful façades and bloodthirsty creatures who’d learned nothing from their erroneous ways.

  “There is another daemon city a couple hundred miles to the north from here,” Amund said. “Rumor has it that it’s where the rest of the Druid delegation is kept. The few who’ve survived since they were detained here, anyway. We’re thinking it might be where they’re keeping the swamp witch, too, but we have no way of knowing that for sure. It is too risky for us to try to get in there.”

  I shot to my feet, rage coursing through my veins in waves of hot and cold, my heart aching as I walked out of the tent. I needed to see Caspian.
And—

  “Harper, wait!” I heard Hansa, as she got up and followed me, along with Jax, Vesta, and the three Imen.

  Caspian heard me approaching and stood up, his hands still bound and his eyes covered. He listened quietly as we stopped in front of his cage. My heart was pounding, and he’d probably noticed that already.

  “You knew,” I hissed. “You knew! About everything! You knew!”

  He didn’t reply. Instead, he lowered his head.

  “Lord Kifo is one of the leaders of Azure Heights,” Amund replied dryly. “Of course he knew. My only question is why he’s here, with you.”

  “Caspian!” I raised my trembling voice. “Say something!”

  I only got silence in return. It angered me beyond the point where I could be reasoned with. I lashed out and smacked the iron bars, bending them inward. Hansa pulled me back, and Caspian turned his head, his lips tightened into a thin, small line.

  “You knew! You bastard! Is that why you’ve been telling us to go away? Is that the oath that kept you from telling us the truth? Is your word more important than the millions that your people have killed for their blood and their freaking souls? Huh? Talk to me! Tell me the truth!”

  “He can’t.” Vesta’s voice came into focus, and we all looked at her.

  She narrowed her eyes at him, then moved closer to the cage.

  “He can’t? Is that really a good excuse at this point in time?” I spat, the pain in my chest blaring and bringing tears to my eyes. I felt betrayed. I’d fallen for him, and… he’d known about all this. My mind wasn’t equipped to deal with this kind of disappointment. My body wasn’t cut out for this type of emotional pain. It rippled through me, pinching at every nerve ending until my knees softened, and I leaned against Hansa for support.

  “No, I mean he can’t. He literally can’t,” Vesta replied, then pointed at his head. “Lord Kifo, please turn your head to the left and take a couple of steps forward. They need to see it.”