Harley Merlin 12 Read online

  “That makes perfect sense,” Safiya replied.

  The rest of the djinn made their cases, and ultimately each group chose to unite against Erebus, with a few tweaks to suit their own kind, but nothing that made their decision contradictory or void. The forum ended with the invisible Hatif. In fact, I’d thought we were done when an eerie voice whispered into the silence.

  “We Hatif agree with this course. Our brethren of physical forms, you would survive longer than we creatures of sound and spirit. Many of us are already lost. We will not lose more.” The strange voice seemed to come from all directions, impossible to pinpoint. “We will have freedom. We will join this fight, to ensure that we never suffer like this again.”

  Hold on to your backsides, everyone… we’re headed for a savage ride. Kadar sounded stunned by the unanimous will of the djinn. I couldn’t deny it—they’d shocked me, too. But Erebus had brought them to this. He’d cut himself off from them without a single care for their wellbeing. What else were they supposed to do to save themselves? Knowing Erebus, they hadn’t even crossed his mind, and he certainly wouldn’t have anticipated this.

  It gave me an odd satisfaction to see them all take the risk of standing against him, when they could just as easily have bowed down. My admiration had grown tenfold, steeling my resolve to send Finch on the road to freedom, as well. If these djinn could take fate into their own hands, I had to help my friend do the same.

  Erebus was definitely going to get a nasty wake-up call.

  Thirty-One

  Raffe

  “What happens next?” I whispered to Zalaam.

  His eyes flared. “Everyone gets what they have asked for. We face our creator in his otherworld—the place our sentience was formed—and we demand to be separated from his power.”

  Santana shifted uneasily. “Erebus won’t like that.”

  “No… no, he won’t,” Zalaam replied.

  Safiya raised her arms, and the gathering quieted once more. “The decision has been made. We will go to Tartarus and seek our liberation. We must make haste. There is no reason to delay.”

  From her robes, she removed an emerald the size of an ostrich egg. How she’d hidden it so easily, I had no idea. Safiya had a few tricks up her ancient sleeves.

  “Hang on, what about—” My words evaporated like a speck of water in the desert’s daylight heat as Safiya lifted the emerald. Green light exploded in a violent wave that enveloped Salameh and the djinn on the outskirts. I’d wanted to ask Safiya to leave me with Santana, but I’d been too slow. Wherever the djinn were going, I was going, too, thanks to Kadar.

  Take her hand, or I will! Kadar barked in my head. I quickly grasped Santana’s hand. I didn’t want to strand her in the desert. Only after our bodies started to twist upward, disintegrating, did I realize Erebus’s otherworld might not be the greatest place for her, either.

  What was that for? I hissed at Kadar.

  You want her to burn to a crisp when the sun comes up? Chalk doors don’t work in Salameh, and she’d have lost her way in the desert long before any rescue came. This is for the best.

  You better hope you’re right…

  As my very being tore apart on a molecular level, the world shot past at lightning speed. Desert landscapes, towering cities, lush greenery, and expansive oceans whizzed by, then turned to darkness. A crackle of sparks erupted around my fast-moving form, letting me know we’d passed from the real world to… somewhere beyond. Tartarus.

  I landed with a jolt, finding Santana beside me, her hand still in mine. She looked pale and gripped my hand harder as the shock of the portal wore off. The darkness had disappeared, too, which was another surprise. Last time I’d been to Tartarus, when we’d come to stop Katherine’s ritual, I’d seen a world of shadow and danger, with Purge beasts snapping and snarling from all angles, shrouded in perpetual night. But this world… I wondered if Safiya had hit the emerald wrong or something. It didn’t look anything like the Tartarus I knew. It looked… empty. That was the only way to describe it.

  A vast expanse of bland nothing stretched as far as the eye could see, flat and barren. Dirt that grew nothing, no Purge beasts to speak of, everything illuminated in an anemic glow. A hill rose a short distance away, again lacking any signs of life or Erebus.

  I sought out Safiya, still holding Santana’s hand. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

  The djinn muttered amongst themselves, seemingly as confused as I was. Even if they’d never personally visited this otherworld, they’d have known it by reputation.

  Looks like the grand old witch messed up, Kadar muttered. She’s brought us to some abandoned otherworld, the stupid hag.

  I ignored him and continued looking around. In this flat emptiness, I finally saw the full extent of the djinns’ formidable numbers. Before, I’d had my doubts that the djinn could persuade Erebus to liberate them, but seeing them en masse—now, I doubted that Erebus could refuse.

  I gave Santana’s hand a squeeze, to try and coax her out of her shock. But she didn’t look back at me.

  “Hey, you’re okay. We’re going to be okay,” I whispered. “Kadar and I will protect you. I know this is weird, but I couldn’t leave you in the desert. Whatever happens, we’ll get you out if things take a turn.”

  She gave a faint nod, but I couldn’t tell if she was convinced.

  “This is Tartarus,” Safiya replied confidently, bringing my attention back to her. “Though I understand your bemusement. I share it. This is not the way Tartarus ought to appear, nor has it ever looked this way when I have been summoned by our creator.”

  “Might you have pulled us in the wrong direction?” Abdhi swayed, clearly nervous. “Transporting thousands upon thousands of djinn is no simple task, Safiya. Perhaps there were too many and something went awry.”

  Safiya shook her head. “No, this is Tartarus.” The flames in her eyes brightened. “Oh, that foolish Child.”

  “What is it?” Santana asked, finding her voice. She leaned into me, a bit of steel coming back into her eyes. That’s my girl… Even in the darkest of times, nothing shook her for long.

  “His otherworld has responded to his new form. Their realms are innately linked to their beings, created to emulate their wishes and their natures,” Safiya explained, her tone somewhat awestruck. “Now, his otherworld does not recognize its creator. It is… lost, in a sense, and has reverted to its initial state of vacancy. A true blank slate. I did not think it would happen so quickly. Indeed, I did not think this would happen until we djinn had all crumbled to nothing, but it seems I was serendipitously mistaken.”

  Santana frowned. “Wait, does that mean Erebus isn’t here?”

  “It appears so,” Safiya replied, a small smile tugging her lips.

  “Then what possible reason could you have to smile?” Zalaam interjected sharply. “If Erebus is not here, you have brought us on a wild goose chase. How can we demand freedom of him if he is not home for us to confront?”

  The djinn collectively grumbled in agitation, but Safiya took it in stride. In fact, she seemed eerily calm.

  “Fear not, my brothers and sisters. You need not be alarmed by this alteration in proceedings.” Safiya addressed the entire army of djinn. “Indeed, this lends itself to our advantage. It removes all the risk and doubt we have harbored regarding our separation.”

  “No offense, Safiya, but how?” I asked.

  She doesn’t know what she’s yakking about. She’s bluffing because this has all gone wrong, in the most spectacular way. Kadar bristled inside me. If the djinn suspect she’s made a mistake, they’ll wrench her limbs out of their sockets and use them to beat out a samba.

  Safiya turned to me. “Follow me, and I will show you.” She set off without waiting for a reply, trekking across the empty landscape toward the dusty hill. The djinn followed, because what else could they do? Safiya had brought them here with hope in their glowing hearts, and they wouldn’t leave until they were satisfied. Santana, Zala
am, and I fell in with the crowd, sticking close to Safiya.

  “Does she know what she’s doing?” Santana whispered. “It’s kind of a relief that Erebus isn’t home, but… I thought the djinn needed him to break free?”

  I put my hand on the small of her back. “She seems to have an idea. Maybe she knows something we don’t.”

  Santana seemed to grow stronger by the second, recovering from the initial shock. “What’s the point in living for thousands of years if you don’t pick up a trick or two, right?”

  “That’s what I’m thinking.”

  She glanced at me. “Thank you for not leaving me in the desert. I might not know what she’s got in mind, but I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. Seeing all the djinn here, it’s pretty damn impressive.”

  “I’d never have left you behind,” I insisted.

  “I know, but you might’ve made a silly decision in the moment, thinking I’d be safer in the middle of nowhere.” She managed a smile. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

  We’re not out of the woods yet. It might still be a stupid decision, Kadar chimed in. But at least we’ll all go up in flames together, eh?

  That’s not going to happen, I replied inwardly.

  Roasty-toasty Levis and Catemacos. Kadar laughed coldly, but I felt a shiver of hope bristling through my stomach. His hope.

  At the top of the hill, after a thigh-burning climb, a morsel of architecture finally appeared. Crumbling ruins, sitting at the summit. The withered remains of vines continued to strangle the decrepit pillars, but little else adorned the hilltop. A few tumbleweeds bounced along on a faint, cool breeze.

  “Is this supposed to make sense?” a towering Marid muttered frostily.

  “It will.” Safiya entered the ruins and stopped in front of a block of gray stone. An altar of some kind. Or, it had been, once. Gently, she touched her fingertips to the block’s surface. Red light slithered underneath, and the top of the altar screeched open with a grating of stone on stone. Her hands delved inside, then receded a moment later. Hovering above her palms swirled a ball of red-and-black matter, part liquid, part smoke. A bright crimson glow pulsated in the center.

  “What’s that?” I asked, resisting the urge to step back. Bad energy reverberated from the swirling orb. Santana trembled slightly, which wasn’t like her at all. Her eyes widened, and she appeared unable to tear her gaze from the bizarre substance.

  Safiya grinned. “This is us, in our basest form. The primordial soup from whence we were formed. The experiment that allowed us to exist. The Nexus of Erebus.”

  The djinn gasped, their smoke billowing wildly.

  “The who-said-what-now?” Santana whispered, sweat glistening on her forehead. She looked calmer, but I sensed lingering fear in her. It prompted me to put my arm around her waist and pull her closer. Here, she was a fish out of water, surrounded by djinn in Erebus’s otherworld. Not exactly a comforting position to be in. But she was taking it all in stride, making a decent show of being brave.

  “It is the connective tissue binding us to him. He formed it, and us, from his own body. It is us, and him, combined.” Safiya moved toward the center of the ruins.

  I frowned. “How do you know this?”

  Zalaam cut in. “More to the point, how did you know it was here?”

  “I have researched our origins for thousands of years,” Safiya replied. “But I was also one of Erebus’s first. When I was created, I erupted from this Nexus and stood on this very hilltop to hear the instruction of our creator. Once he had spoken of his desires for us—his creatures—he sucked us back into this orb and sent us into the world in a Purge Plague. On one occasion, when he summoned me to perform a task on his behalf, I watched him remove the Nexus from the altar and stood in this very spot as he created more of our kind.”

  “What if he comes back?” A Ghul sniveled, dripping black goo onto the ground.

  Safiya smiled. “He cannot.”

  “Pardon?” I gaped at her.

  “In his human form, his otherworld has no choice but to reject him. He may portal in, as we have, but he has no power over this realm any longer.” Safiya’s eyes flashed again. “However, we do. We are of his essence, and we are of his Darkness. We are more Child of Chaos than he is, at this moment—specifically, more linked to the energy that he has abandoned.”

  Santana folded her arms across her chest. “Sorry, Safiya, but this isn’t making any sense.”

  “Observe, and perhaps it will.” Safiya closed her eyes and sent energy surging into the ball. The pulsating red glow in the center brightened, and then… it stopped pulsing and became a constant, vibrant red light, less like a heartbeat and more like a beacon. A moment later, the swirling black edges of the orb spiraled into the red center. A brief pause lingered in the air while everyone held their collective breath. The red light faded to black before the entire thing exploded like a decayed star finally turning supernova. Powerful rings of searing scarlet energy burst outward, rushing past us all to fill the entirety of the otherworld before vanishing.

  “I don’t get it. What happened?” a Si’lat asked in a frightened voice.

  “We are free,” Safiya explained with a triumphant grin. “I have performed precisely what Erebus would have done to liberate us. You will feel your new weaknesses in the coming days, but you will also feel the effects of the sickness begin to ebb. And now, we control Tartarus.”

  “What did you say?” A Qareen edged forward, face aghast.

  Safiya bent down and brushed her hand over the barren earth. “Watch and you will see.” Her eyes closed, and a tiny spark of red leapt from her palm. Where it fell, a small plant with scarlet petals and a blood-red stem emerged. “Tartarus responds to us now. It recognizes our energy as that which it lost. We have taken Erebus’s place as this realm’s creator, free to shape it in our image and do whatever we care to with it. This is our world, brothers and sisters—this can be our home, built as we see fit. This is our land of hope and glory.”

  Holy human on a stick… she did it. She freed us and seized Erebus’s otherworld from under his nose. Kadar sounded dumbfounded. I shared in his awe. Safiya had led the djinn here with a promise of freedom, and she had not let them down. A leader who had actually followed through with her intent. It struck me right in the heart, making it swell with something like pride. Even though I’d never thought of myself as being djinn, the djinn were an innate part of me. And I’d never felt closer to Kadar than I did in that moment—the moment the penny dropped for him. He may not have been free of me, but he got to see his people liberated. It filled us both up with joy, so weird and wonderful that I wanted to cry or yell or punch the air.

  Another djinn shuffled closer, observing the plant. “But what if Erebus comes back to claim his otherworld?”

  “He cannot, if we choose to deny him entry.” Safiya touched the red petals. “We are the rule-makers, and we are the sovereigns of this world now. If we seek sanctuary, we have only to send our energy into this realm and insist it deny Erebus access. He may only be able to reclaim it if, or when, he returns to his original form, as the otherworld will likely recognize his authority again and register his superiority over us. But I have a feeling that will take quite some time. His personal project will prevent it from happening imminently. Even on that occasion, he will not be able to undo what I have done this day—I have liberated us, and he cannot alter that. Those are the rules, formed when he made us. He cannot unravel djinn magic.”

  You sly, delicious minx! Kadar cheered inside me. Safiya had put the pieces together so perfectly, taking a dire situation and making it into something incredible. Her fast thinking had brought this into being. The greatest thing to ever happen to the djinn in all their history. I hoped it would stay that way, for their sake.

  The djinn murmured excitedly as Safiya slowly stood. She had barely risen when she collapsed to the ground. Their excitement hushed, and their eyes all turned toward the Storyteller, who lay limp and motionless
. I gasped and Santana froze at my side, the two of us staring at the Storyteller in confusion. Abdhi swept forward and quickly scooped her up in his muscular arms.

  “Safiya? Safiya, is it the sickness?” he asked, scanning her for injury.

  Her face turned toward his, wearing an expression of contentment. “No… it is not the sickness.”

  “Then what’s the matter?” Abdhi pressed.

  “I… gave my life so you all might… be free.”

  I rushed to her side, with Santana close behind. “What did you do?”

  “Changes of this magnitude… require payment… and I was… the only one with the… strength to offer the sum,” she wheezed, coughing violently. Black smoke rippled from her mouth. “I have lived… long enough. It was time… I gave back to my kind. And what finer… way to end one’s life… than with a gift… to those I have watched… all these years?”

  She gave herself… for us? Kadar sounded crushed. An unsettling feeling for me; Kadar didn’t venture into that realm of emotion very often. It filtered through to my own emotions, making my chest clench in a vise of panic for the ancient djinn.

  Realization may have dawned for Kadar and me, but Santana was the one who spoke. “Did you know this would happen all along? Did you plan to sacrifice yourself for this?”

  Safiya smiled at Santana. “From the moment… I realized Erebus was not here… sweet girl. That was… when the thought transformed into… reality, and I knew I would… have to give myself in return… for this liberation. I could… not ask another to do this… in my place.”

  You did this without a single pause. My heart lurched in admiration and sadness. You knew this would happen, you knew you’d have to die, and you kept right on without fear. She hadn’t faltered once. She’d stuck her hand right into that altar and drawn out the Nexus, and she’d used herself to bring them out of enslavement. No hesitations. I felt Kadar’s increasing respect for this woman rushing through our shared veins, and when I turned to look at Santana, I saw that same emotion written across her face. The highest of regard. How could any djinn or human look at the Storyteller and not feel that? A human could go through their entire life and never witness a genuine martyr. And I felt honored to have witnessed this. Honored and heartbroken.