Page 17

A va fell through space and time.

Down and down.

Plummeting but floating at the same time.

She wasn’t in pain. Not like when she touched the archway.

But her skin tingled as something shifted. As she flew into everything and nothing.

There was only infinite darkness. An absence of light, as if it had been devoured.

Her dream had come true, no longer a premonition. No longer an intangible thing.

The ruins, the voice, the figure chasing her through the woods. As if she would never have been able to escape her fate. The voice sounded again, calling out her name in a panic. As if he was searching for her and warning her.

It was a forceful voice; radiating power and authority as it yelled for her to stop.

But whoever it was, she had let him down.

Failed.

Hands still bound, she barreled into the earth, breath knocked out of her as she hit the ground. An identical archway stood before her with the same swirling blackness lined in blue.

Maybe she could jump back through. Maybe she could go back. Though she had no one left, she’d be safe on the farm. Away from the daemons.

As she was starting to rise, Deidamia and Andras emerged, walking through gracefully. After they arrived, the portal began to close, the black swirling abyss shrinking.

No .

She couldn’t jump through now, especially with the two of them standing in between her and the doorway, and she watched her chance to escape slip away.

Just before the portal sealed shut, Luna emerged from the black abyss and dashed in the opposite direction into a group of trees before the daemons noticed her. Momentary relief poured over Ava. Luna was alive. Perhaps she could help in some way.

Andras and Deidamia beamed with triumph, gazing around them and taking it in. So elated they almost forgot about Ava. She looked around, searching for an escape route before they remembered her existence.

They had landed in a scenic meadow, peppered with trees of white bark and rounded golden leaves, quivering in the breeze.

The trees were more brilliant than those back home, brightly colored and teeming with energy.

The emerald grass was interspersed with patches of flowers.

Orange, blue and purple blooms reached for the sun.

Unlike any flowers she had ever seen, they glimmered in the light.

The weather was pleasant, and the sun peeked over the trees, radiating an orange glow as it rose overhead. It wasn’t fall here, but spring? Did they even have the same seasons?

She couldn’t see much beyond the groups of trees surrounding her, unsure which direction would be safest. About to head where Luna had gone, she was interrupted when Andras lifted her roughly by her arm.

He looked different. As if the magic residing within him was now unleashed and his true form took over. His short blonde locks had grown and were now long and black, his skin porcelain but his eyes were the same bright blue.

Taller, wider and stronger, he was utterly terrifying as he looked down at her. “Welcome home, Ava.”

His voice. It wasn’t the same smooth timbre but more powerful, filled with deep seductive tones, echoing with a strange presence.

Trembling, she turned to look toward Deidamia who had also changed. If Andras was sensual maleficence, then she was brute terror. Slightly shorter than him, her waist length hair had changed to a ghostly white.

Her pale blue eyes bored into Ava as she smiled, revealing fangs.

Holding out her hand, a fireball started to form in her palm.

Not a fire of reds and oranges, but something far viler.

Deep purple flames danced around themselves, whirling and writhing, ready to destroy.

It was as if the fire had a mind of its own and longed to incinerate that which was around it.

“My magic.” She beheld her fire.

Her voice was different too, melodic yet laced with echoes of death and destruction. She shot the fire toward a tree, and it immediately caught flame.

Nodding, as if confirming her magic still worked, she looked at Andras. “Go ahead.”

Andras’ eyes darkened and shadows emerged from him. Coming from nowhere and everywhere, swirling around him.

Ava started to pull away, but the shadows surrounded them and tendrils climbed their way around her body.

Andras let go of her but when she tried to move, tried to run, the shadows held her in place.

Black tendrils wrapped around her wrists and raised her arms above her head as Andras stood over her.

Another wisp of smoke twisted around her throat, cutting off her air.

Ava tried to get free, struggling against the darkness but the swirling smoke and shadow held her still. She couldn’t breathe and panic threatened to engulf her. Andras released her, shadows disappearing as he pulled them back and she fell to the ground, coughing and clutching at her neck.

“Don’t try to escape,” he said. “You won’t get far.”

Something rustled as it emerged into the meadow through the white-bark trees, announcing the arrival of half a dozen soldiers.

Large and tall, their eyes promised torture and death.

Dressed in spiked armor so dark it seemed to suck the light from around them, they marched forward.

The spikes were strategically placed on their knees, elbows and forearms, making them deadly in hand-to-hand combat.

All they had to do was place a carefully aimed kick, or throw their elbow to gut their enemies.

The right breast displayed an insignia of horns surrounded by flames.

This was the army of Deidamia.

One soldier had a gold bar under his insignia. The leader, then. The group approached, Ava still on the ground trying to catch her breath and develop a plan to escape, though she knew it was futile. What could a human do against powerful daemons and warriors with magic?

As the leader advanced, he knelt and removed his horned helmet.

Bowing with reverence, he spoke with a deep gruff voice. “My queen. We’ve been waiting almost one hundred years for your return.”

His cadre followed suit and knelt behind him.

“General Or’thir. Your loyalty will be rewarded,” Deidamia replied in a powerful voice. “Rise and give your report.”

Or’thir rose but glanced hesitantly at Ava, seemingly reluctant to reveal potentially secret information in front of a stranger.

He was massive. With broad shoulders and a heavily muscled body beneath his thick armor. His hair was long and golden, and his face was peppered with brutal scars, one of them slicing right over his left eye, changing it into a milky white while the right was a deep, haunting black.

Clearing his throat, he answered, “Should we find somewhere more private? A large camp is just a few days’ away and I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable there. Scouts had been monitoring this portal with the hopes you would return.”

Deidamia glanced at Ava and waved her hand. “Yes. Lead the way to camp and bring her along. Keep her alive as we may need her later.”

She should run now. Hurry and try to get away while her feet were still unbound.

She glanced toward the direction Luna had run off to, but she didn’t see any sign of her friend. Even Luna knew she couldn’t fight against them.

Ava, Luna said.

Ava almost jumped at the sound of Luna’s voice in her head. She’d only spoken to her once before, and that was in a dream. Then she remembered Luna had said they could also speak in this world. It was so strange to be able to consciously communicate with an animal.

“Luna! What do I do?”

They’re too strong. I’m going to try to look for help.

“Where?”

I don’t know. I was very young when I followed your grandpa and mother into the human world.

“Will I be able to talk to you wherever you are?”

Not if I get too far away. I’ll be back, I promise.

“Okay.”

At least she had one friend in this world .

Ava stood and started to back away but a hard body behind her blocked her path. Andras. “Hold still,” he said as his arms wrapped around her and his fingers dug into her forearms. She gasped at the pain, adding more bruises to her already battered body.

The general gestured to two of his men, both equally as frightening, and they produced a small wooden wagon from the trees being pulled by a massive black horse with red eyes.

Andras held her arms tightly as they removed the rope and replaced it with shackles. Ava trembled, her breaths coming in short bursts, as fear gripped her like a vice.

The wagon stopped in front of her and a soldier opened the door on the back.

No. They couldn’t put her in there, she wouldn’t let them.

Flailing, she tried to wrench away from Andras but he squeezed her arms so hard she thought her bones would break and she cried out as he shoved her into the wagon.

The side of her body hit the hard wooden floor as her head throbbed at the impact of her fall. Everything hurt as she lay there, bound and trapped, her fate sealed now that she couldn’t run away.

“Please!” she begged as the door was slammed followed by the sound of keys turning in a lock.

Using her chained hands, she pushed herself up and leaned against the wagon’s wall.

It was mostly dark, the only light filtering in through a narrow-barred window at the top of the door.

She looked around for anything she could use to assist her, but the enclosure was empty.

Rough wood scratched her as she adjusted, attempting to find a comfortable position.

Dark stains smelling of iron colored the floor with the promise of pain.

“What do I do?” she whispered to herself in the dark, allowing the tears to fall.

She was an idiot, digging into her grandfather’s past and seeking out the map. If she had left it alone, maybe Andras never would have figured it out and found some other way to reach their goal.

She thought she had found peace at the farm, the spirit of her mother and grandfather a quiet comfort. Her growing friendship with Eleanor and relationship with Henry had started to satisfy her need for companionship. It was the first time she had been happy in years, and it was all a ruse.

Ava had been selfish in her fervor to find out the truth; disregarding the warnings from her dreams and from Eleanor. Everything was her fault.

Now she had nothing.

She couldn’t stop the vision of Eleanor’s death from replaying again and again. The sound of her gurgle as she crawled for help, Deidamia’s scream, the sight of Eleanor’s body twitching.

Hopeless, she buried her face in her hands and wept, surrendering to a deep despair as the wagon started to move.