A Passage of Threats Page 9

  “Come out, Derion. You know you can’t hide from us. Not in here!” one of the monsters shouted, his deep voice echoing through the building.

  The interior of the temple was superb—most likely centuries of craftsmanship had gone into it for it to look the way it did. Hundreds of finely sculpted columns with intricate details supported the arched ceiling, which opened in the middle to reveal thousands of stars in the night sky above.

  Just below that was a small gold platform holding a pulpit draped in red silk with gold embroidery that depicted swirling snakes and trees. A large book had been left open on top. This was a study hall, filled with wooden benches placed around the pulpit.

  Myriads of candles were mounted all over the hall, glazing the place in a warm amber light.

  As soon as the Destroyers stormed in, they snickered and spread out, looking for the old Druid named Derion.

  “Come on, old boy. Where’d you hide the kids? Azazel wants them,” another Destroyer yelled as he threw several benches aside.

  “You brought shame to our entire species,” the Druid’s voice echoed around the hall. “I allowed you in here to learn and honor Eritopia and its bountiful nature, and you soiled it when you became Azazel’s toy soldiers!”

  The Destroyers hissed as they searched for the old Druid, but he was nowhere to be found. It was then that I recognized Goren among the attackers, bulky and tall and filled with hate. His eyes were yellow. His fists yanked a bench up and threw it over the others.

  The wood broke and splintered and scattered across the floor.

  “Come out here, you ancient fool, and fight me! Or are you scared?” Goren spat, looking around.

  He squinted. His gaze settled on a large painting mounted against a wall, flanked by two large bookcases. It depicted a brave Druid with a spear vanquishing a giant snake; it seemed like an allegory of sorts, of the Druid conquering his snake nature.

  “You have no respect for this world and for yourselves, to allow Azazel to turn you into the monsters you’ve become. You’ve lost your magic so you can serve him. I’m surprised the Grand Temple hasn’t collapsed on itself from your dirty presence,” the Druid’s voice boomed.

  Goren grinned and threw his spear into the painting. Its poisoned tip pierced the canvas precisely where the painted hero’s heart would have been. A muffled thud was heard behind it, before the painting fell forward and revealed a secret passage. The old Druid had been hiding there and was now lying dead on the floor, spear half through his chest and blood pooling around him.

  “You talk and talk, and you forget we know this place as well as you do, old fool,” Goren smirked, then waved at the other Destroyers. “Search every inch of this place, all the way into the catacombs! The little brats are here somewhere!”

  The Destroyers obeyed, scattering around the hall and disappearing through the many doors and the passage where Derion lay dead.

  “Take them alive,” Goren added. His voice faded as I slipped from the vision.

  Vita

  I was on a set of black marble stairs. I heard movement at the bottom.

  Phoenix ran past me up the stairs, followed by Aida and the future version of me. We looked terrible. Our clothes were ripped and blood had dried on our arms.

  I ran after us and reached the top. My heart stopped as I recognized the platform—the obsidian structure with arches and pillars. Broken glass spheres were scattered across the black shiny floor. I was once again standing atop Luceria, Genevieve’s former residence taken over by Azazel.

  The scene I witnessed was something out of a movie. Everything seemed to move at a much slower pace, as if someone was playing it in slow motion.

  The sky above was dark, with gray clouds billowing and flashing all over.

  Phoenix, Aida, and future me were at the top of the stairs, and I stood right next to them as we saw Destroyers slithering up after us. Phoenix pushed a barrier out, knocking them down. They fell backward and tumbled down the stairs, their voices intertwined with others. I heard swords clanging and groans and thuds.

  I looked back up at the platform and saw Serena on the floor a few yards away. She was holding Draven in her arms. He’d been injured severely. Blood trickled out of a deep stomach wound. His eyes were closing slowly as Serena called out his name repeatedly, trying to keep him conscious.

  Jovi was fighting Marchosi, their swords clashing as they moved about. Jovi was swift and quick on his feet, but the Destroyer was a worthy opponent and the only one left standing between Jovi and Azazel, who stood at the center of the platform, grinning with satisfaction. Destroyers’ bodies were scattered around, along with several incubi. My stomach churned as I moved around, looking for Bijarki.

  “I told you before, little children, that you cannot and will not do anything to stop this from happening. Eritopia is mine, and you are but bugs in need of squashing.” Azazel’s voice boomed like thunder.

  His veins were swollen and glowing green. He breathed heavily, and, judging by the pained shadows flickering across his face, he wasn’t feeling too great. But he was still standing, his tail twitching, the snake pendant moving with its ruby eyes against his broad chest.

  “Your Destroyers are all dead,” Phoenix shot back, walking toward him.

  Aida jumped in to help her brother, picking a sword up off the ground. The wolf siblings were truly fierce together, even when facing a foe as large and as vicious as Marchosi, with his glowing green eyes and bared fangs. He brought his sword down over and over again.

  “But my power isn’t, little Oracle,” Azazel replied.

  Several incubi made it to the top of the stairs, one of them taking future me in a brief embrace. A wave of relief washed over me as I recognized Bijarki. He looked around, then drew his bow and arrow, shooting one straight at Azazel.

  It stopped midair as Azazel raised his palm against it. With a flick of his fingers, the arrow turned back and shot right through Bijarki’s shoulder, throwing him backward. Future me screamed and caught Bijarki before he fell over the edge to his death and pulled him back up.

  “You won’t win, Azazel, no matter what tricks you’ve got left up your sleeves. You are nothing without your Destroyers, just a failed Druid with a bunch of spells against thousands of creatures who want you dead and out of this world.” Phoenix took another step forward, fists closed at his sides.

  I heard another thud and saw Marchosi on the ground, both Jovi and Aida’s swords stuck in his neck, his spinal cord severed. They both stood over him, watching as he gave his last breath.

  “You little bugs have yet to understand who I am,” Azazel replied and stretched his arms outward as more clouds gathered above him, circling and thundering menacingly.

  A pink shimmer appeared out of nowhere on the edge of the platform, several yards away from Azazel, who was now the last Destroyer standing.

  Current me realized then that we’d get very far in our fight against him, and that glimmer of a potential victory reignited my hope when I needed it the most.

  I glanced over at future me and saw Bijarki still breathing, though injured. The look in his eyes spoke of love, and my heart fluttered for a moment, before I shifted my focus back to the pink shimmer. It flashed and threw sparks around before it shaped itself into the last Daughter.

  Phoenix stilled, his eyes wide and mouth gaping.

  “You’re okay,” he gasped.

  Azazel froze. His mouth turned into a thin line.

  “I couldn’t stay away anymore,” the Daughter replied with a weak smile. “My sisters sent me.”

  Phoenix sighed and moved toward her, but the Daughter raised her palm in the air, motioning him to stop. She then looked at Azazel, her smile fading.

  “It’s time to stop this,” she said.

  “What are you doing here?” Azazel hissed furiously. “I thought I told you ladies to stay away or the little one gets it!”

  A powerful wind began to blow, lifting loose fabrics and strands of black dust from the f
loor. Thunders boomed above, increasing in intensity and volume.

  The sound of war unraveled below, and I looked over the ledge to see Dearghs and an army of creatures engaged in a siege of the castle. Flames shot across the crowds and exploded into the gates. Wood splintered, and stone bricks crumbled. It hit me then that I was watching the same scene I’d previously seen with Hansa and Anjani but from a different angle—the top of Azazel’s castle.

  My stomach shrank into a tiny but heavy ball as I saw the Daughter’s eyes light up in a fluorescent violet. The wind blew through her hair, raising wave upon wave of reddish pink strands over her shoulders. She wore a white translucent dress that glimmered with diamonds. The fabric fluttered as brutal gusts swept around her bare feet. Thick gold bracelets hung around her ankles and wrists.

  I held my breath as I watched drops of liquid gold seep through the skin on her pale face, taking the form of a gold mask, similar to the ones I’d seen the other Daughters wear. Her eyes shone violet, and her voice sounded like a million people speaking, the same as I’d heard earlier at the mansion when she’d spoken about Goren.

  “Our little sister is out of your reach, Azazel.” The Daughter’s multiple voices echoed across the platform, making the obsidian floor and pillars vibrate in the process.

  Azazel’s face went blank.

  I tried to understand what she was talking about. Was there another Daughter? Had Azazel kept her prisoner, forcing the Daughters to stay away and not intervene as he laid waste to Eritopia’s planets?

  The Daughter stepped forward, prompting Azazel to move back a few feet, unsure of what to do next.

  “How did that happen?” he asked incredulously.

  “Well, we did tell you not to mess with us,” Aida smirked, standing tall and proud next to her brother.

  Azazel looked at them and pursed his lips. He moved his arm as if swatting a fly away, and shot out a pulse that crashed into Aida and Jovi, sending them flying then rolling along the floor. They slid across the smooth obsidian and nearly fell over the edge. Jovi was the first to stop. He grabbed Aida just as her legs went past the edge, dangling in the air. He pulled her back. They both took gasping breaths. Whatever Azazel had thrown at them, it had knocked the air out of their lungs.

  “Azazel,” the Daughter said in her creepy multiple voices, “you have committed unspeakable crimes against Eritopia, against the people, and against the Daughters themselves. You show no remorse and revel in the blood you have spilled. Today, I bring it all to an end, on behalf of my sisters and Eritopia. This world does not want you anymore, you snake.”

  She closed the distance between them as Azazel threw flames and pulses at her, trying to stop her advance. But nothing worked. The Daughter didn’t flinch or waver. The closer she got, the paler his face became. His lower lip trembled. For the first time, I saw genuine fear in his yellow eyes.

  “No, you can’t,” he barked. “I’ve gained tremendous power. You can’t take me down anymore!”

  She tilted her head to one side as the wind grew stronger, circling around the platform. “You have been sentenced to death by the very world that allowed your creation, Azazel. You were given a gift, and you abused it. You have soiled the very magic of your honorable heritage, the power that Eritopia blessed you with.”

  She raised her hand and touched his face, her veins glowing pink.

  He shut his eyes tightly, as if expecting to die. I guessed it was the touch of death that Bijarki had mentioned, as the Daughters were able to kill a person just by touching them. However, it didn’t kill Azazel. As a matter of fact, it didn’t have any effect on him at all.

  She withdrew her hand, staring at it in confusion.

  Azazel gasped and grinned when he realized he was still alive. “I’m growing tired of repeating myself.” He laughed maniacally. “I cannot be stopped. What will it take for you all to understand?”

  He backhanded the Daughter, throwing her back a few feet. She landed on her side, mask still on her face but eyes wide open, flickering as she struggled to get back up. Phoenix jumped at Azazel almost out of sheer instinct, bringing his fist down into the Destroyer’s face. Azazel’s arm shot out and grabbed him by the throat, choking him as he lifted him off the ground.

  “Be a good boy and go back to your glass bubble,” he hissed and threw Phoenix away like a rag doll.

  The Daughter stood up, her eyes glowing violet again. She watched Phoenix as he rolled on the floor, heaving and choking. She focused her attention on Azazel once more, her thousand voices ringing louder than before, to the point where I had to cover my ears.

  “I see,” she said. “Then so it must be, that a Daughter will sacrifice herself to rid the world of the disease that you’ve become.”

  “No!” Phoenix shouted at her, his expression livid with pain and desperation.

  I saw Serena’s stunned face. She clutched Draven in her arms. His eyes were closed, and his chest was no longer moving. Jovi and Aida managed to get back on their feet and run toward the Daughter, while future me held Bijarki close. We all watched in horror as Aida and Jovi failed to reach her in due time.

  A blinding pink light shone out of her body, and a loud flash and bang followed as the light swallowed us all like a nuclear explosion, deconstructing every particle in its path—including us. I screamed.

  I sat up screaming.

  Aida and Phoenix held me, helping me regain my senses. I broke into a cold sweat. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I struggled to catch my breath. Field was on his knees in front of us, jotting down the last runes flitting along my arms before they vanished.

  “Shh, Vita. It’s okay.” Aida kissed my temple.

  Both she and Phoenix seemed pale, the shadows of runes fading away from their faces.

  “You had a really long and intense one, didn’t you?” Phoenix asked me, his voice low.

  “Just one vision,” I gasped. “And it was horrible.”

  “We had just one vision too,” Aida replied. “We woke up a few minutes ago, and you were still deep under, frowning and crying and moaning. We didn’t know what to do, so we waited.”

  “Are you okay?” Field looked at me with concern.

  I nodded and wiped the tears from my eyes, gradually regaining my composure.

  “I saw the end of this, of everything!” I croaked, swallowing back another wave of tears.

  They sat there and looked at me as I told them the entire vision in blistering detail, from beginning to end. By the time I was done, they were as floored as I was. Phoenix was particularly devastated. His skin was pale, and beads of sweat dripped from his forehead.

  We sat there for a while, as Aida and Phoenix took turns recounting their own visions. The weird part was that we’d only had one vision each, as opposed to the sets of three that we’d grown accustomed to. What did it mean, and why had it changed now?

  My stomach churned as I realized I’d come out of this last vision with more questions than answers. And the most pressing of them all was how we were going to stop that massive explosion from happening.

  Phoenix

  I’d already sensed the enormous destructive potential the Daughter had, so having it confirmed by Vita’s vision only added more weight to my suspicion. Her sisters had told her that sacrifice would be required to rid this world of Azazel, and the thought of her perishing in the process shot daggers through my heart.

  I sat there, listening as Aida and Vita tried to make sense of what was going to happen, as if they also had a hard time believing that it would eventually come to that. I, on the other hand, began to contemplate the prospect of my own death, not just the Daughter’s. I had first-hand knowledge of the energy core she possessed and knew what that bright pink blast described by Vita meant. No one on that platform would survive.

  “Should we tell the Daughter?” Aida mumbled.

  “That she may be the one to kill us all?” Vita replied with a hint of sarcasm.

  “We can’t just keep it from her! Sh
e might be able to prevent it all if she’s told.”

  “And what if she just takes it as something that absolutely has to happen? What then?” Vita’s skepticism wasn’t misplaced, but I agreed with Aida.

  “I know her,” I said, my voice weak. “She wouldn’t go all end-of-days on us. She doesn’t want this any more than we do. We should tell her.”

  Vita’s gaze dropped, settling on her palms. She took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair, nodding slowly.

  “Okay, Phoenix. You’ll be the one to tell her. Now, despite the fact that we’ve only had one vision each, we’ve come out with some crucial information,” she said.

  “Yeah, first and foremost, we’re all going to die,” Aida replied.

  “I mean besides that. We know that there may be more Druids out there, still alive, from what Phoenix saw. Maybe during your next vision, Aida, you can focus on them, see if they’re still alive.”

  Aida nodded. Field moved to sit next to her holding the sheets of old paper and graphite in his hands. He’d jotted down as much as he’d been able to gather from our runes. It was now up to the Daughter to interpret these messages. However, I didn’t have enough patience to deal with more cryptic messages. None of the runes she’d translated so far had yielded anything clear. Just riddles and ambiguous one-liners that had yet to reveal their true meaning.

  “We know that Patrik is struggling with his condition and trying to break free from Azazel’s spell. We may be able to reach out to him, maybe even help him. He obviously doesn’t want to be a Destroyer,” Vita added.

  “He just ordered the annihilation of an entire city. I doubt he’ll come willingly,” I replied, unable to see past the ruthless Destroyer form. In my mind, once they went dark and committed the atrocities for which they’d become notorious, they could no longer go back.