The Lord of the Clans (30 page)

Chapter Forty-One

Along with the magic from the Ancients, the Darkening had slain the Lord of the Clans. Now she wanted to tear its ugly face right down to the bone.

Cameron’s chest ceased rising. His light body almost weightless on her thighs stopped shuddering with pain. She watched their entwined, bloodied fingers as if they belonged to different people while her tears dried off, wiped away by the biting air assaulting her. The Lord of the Clans wasn’t cold anymore. He’d never be cold again.

Despite the frosty wind, she seethed with rage and grief as deep shivers quaked her limbs. She breathed through clenched teeth, torn between the need to cradle him in her arms until the end of the time, and the violent instinct to dash to the fortress and destroy the wretched bastard who ripped her soul.

Alone in the darkest of places, she raised her head toward the black skies and uttered a mournful cry. Nothing stirred around her, the bleak landscape only filled with silence and desolation.

Fear no longer lived inside her. The dreadful emotion seemed to have departed with Cameron, leaving in its wake an inextinguishable thirst for revenge. She laid his body on the gray grounds, wiped his blood on her pants and stood up. This day might see the ruin of the Four Kingdoms, but she’d die with the Lord of the Clans’ sword in her hand.

I am waiting for you.

A sinister laugh rang in her head. Heart pumping with hate, she slowly pivoted on her feet to face the fortress engulfed in shadows.

“I’m coming, you son of a whore.”

She probably didn’t need to speak, given that the Darkening had no problem invading her mind, yet spitting insults out loud liberated her fury and frustration. This evil deserved to suffer and die.

Even if her sense of duty would never compare with Cameron’s dedication, she’d rid the world of the darkness’ heinous presence because her love was now lying alone on a barren stretch of land.

The laughter resounded again as she marched toward the bridge. She didn’t look back. Not because the darkness would have impaired her vision, but because death loomed ahead of her, not behind.

The gray soil swallowed the sound of her booted feet. No black magic flashed from the fortress to strike her down as she crossed the bridge and reached the shut gates. Anger rushing through her veins and heated her blood, she unsheathed the Lord of the Clans’ mighty sword.

Now that she stood so close, she realised that the whole structure appeared to be made of ice.
Black ice.
Thin, high towers jutted out toward the sky, their long spires seeming to sink into dark, rolling clouds.

The tall gates slid open without a sound. Blade firm in the palm of her hand, she passed the threshold of the ominous fortress. The temperature had been cold outside, but it was freezing inside. As she squinted to make out a vast, empty, and silent entrance hall, the voice entered her mind.

Why do you come to me unarmed, creature?

“I am the Lord of the Clans, and my sword is your death.”

Her skin crawled when the Darkening cackled. Determined to hold onto her righteous fury, she strengthened her grip on the hilt.

I have felt your great power. Where is it now?

Dead.

Lying on the other side of the bridge without a spark of life because her shaman had seen fit to swap their bodies.
All of a sudden oblivious to the evil presence, she gasped at the realisation that she should have died instead of him. If her mentor hadn’t taken upon himself to deceive them, she’d have been the one sprawled on the grey grounds and Cameron would still be alive.

All because she wished to be as strong as a man.
Although her shaman meddled with their lives, the fact remained that her lack of confidence in her own abilities had killed the Lord of the Clans. Well, she was him now, and she owed him to behave like a fearless warrior.

“What do you care where my power is?”

I don’t. This world shall be mine anyway.

“Then, let’s get on with it. Show yourself.”

All in good time.

Not a breath of air stirred. Enfolded in coldness, she darted glances around without discerning any movement. Black ice pillars supported the high ceiling of the entrance hall, but nothing came from behind them. The chilly silence unnerved her, yet she stayed on alert and waited.

Who is the one I killed?

“Nobody.
Just a tribeswoman who lost her way.”

The lie grated against her throat even as she uttered the words. She shouldn’t have answered at all, but lifelong habits
died
hard. Drawing in hushed breaths to keep her wits about her, she raised her sword.

“Come out now. We’ve tarried long enough. Or are you so afraid of me, you can’t show me your face?”

She ground her teeth together when the awful cackle echoed loudly in the emptiness of the vast hallway.

I do not know fear, creature.

Shadows swirled and swished around. A frosty wind bit her cheeks as though the very air was being sucked in. She fastened her gaze on the twisting darkness right in front of her until a form materialised.

A vague human shape appeared. It wore a large cloak hiding its body and a hood concealing its face. When she looked under the hood, she only saw a gaping hole. Yet the form stood as tall as she did. A long claw replaced one of its hands, but it held a broad, black sword in the other.

“I do not know fear, you motherfucker.”

She wasn’t even bragging. She was done feeling terrorised since the moment Cameron died in her arms. Now she hankered for the Darkening’s blood. She yearned to hack the evil to pieces. Blade high, muscles tense, she assumed a duelling stance as the figure solidified.

“Let’s be done with this.”

As you wish.

The shape lunged at her and swords clashed with a thunderous ring. As her arm vibrated from the power of the attack, she finally understood why the Mighty Gods, or the Ancients, had allowed the body swap.

It took all her vigour to ward off the first blow from cleaving her head in two, even with the bulging muscles and giant stature of the Lord of the Clans. In spite of her skills with a sharp weapon, Ariana the healer wouldn’t have been able to counter such brutal and murderous strength.

She gasped, regained her footing, and sprang forward. The violent impact jarred her shoulder when silver and black blade collided. Without allowing her opponent any time to devise a defence, she assailed the Darkening from all sides. Never conceding ground, never gaining it either.

Sweat broke out all over her body as the evil deflected each of her strikes, and the battle raged on and on. Her arm and thigh muscles began to ache while her heart wouldn’t stop pounding. Avoiding a vicious blow to the chest, she jumped back to catch her breath.

The looming form didn’t seem to tire. Using a pillar as temporary protection, she observed her faceless opponent. The cloak and hood didn’t move, no matter how many leaps and lunges she forced her enemy into.

Although they might be of equal strength, weariness already took a toll on her body, while the inhuman Darkening appeared full of spirit. She needed to come up with a brilliant strategy in the next instant, or at the very least, an idea. If not, she’d lose this battle.

Frightened, yet?

“Go to the
nethers
.”

You know you can’t beat me. I’m invincible.

“Yeah, and I’m getting really tired of your whining. Why don’t you drop the act and fight me?”

Do you want to see what real power is, creature?

“That would make a change.”

She ducked behind a pillar as the black sword struck the place where her head had been. Shards of ice flew above her. They hit the floor with sharp, clicking noises while the entire pillar crashed down. Skipping sideways to stay clear of the huge, frozen mass falling down, she drew in hasty breaths and shivered when the heinous laughter rang in her mind as though it belonged there.

The darkness wielded tremendous power. Now that she witnessed the true supremacy of her enemy, she wondered why she'd been so eager to taunt it. Was it because the outcome was hopeless whatever she did? Wouldn’t the Lord of the Clans have acted in a similar fashion to win the fight?

The thought of him filled her with a deep longing she’d never be cured of. Her anger and need for revenge weakened by the grief ruling her mind, she took a step back when the cloaked figure pounced on her. Blades clashed, but she wasn’t able to block the full blast of the blow this time.

A cry of pain escaped her when the silver sword she held was torn out of her hand, and a gash ripped the thick sleeve of her coat. The blade clattered on the floor, skidded away, and disappeared into the shadows. Without weapon and chest heaving, she stared at her advancing, faceless enemy.

“Who are you?”

I have no name. I am.

As information went, this piece wasn’t worth a copper coin. The evil halted its advance a few feet from her, lingering. Although she sensed that running away wouldn’t do her much good, she made for it anyway.
Except that her feet didn’t leave the floor when she attempted to lift them.

A chilling sensation gripped her toes, crawled up her ankles, and seized her calves. She couldn’t move. Her sword
lay
out of her reach, her magic was gone, and the only person who might have rescued her had flown to the ethers. A bitter taste flooding her mouth, she looked down.

The cold feeling fastening her to the floor crept up her thighs. A thick layer of black ice now covered her legs, and no matter how much she twisted, kicked, and shoved with her hands, she couldn’t break the armoured hold. Up and up, the frozen glaze enchained her limbs.

She raised her gaze to the motionless, shadowed figure opposite her, as a recollection overran her mind. Cameron had wanted to steer clear of the Forest of the Dead to spend the night in a settlement belonging to a warrior clan. In the leader’s house, she’d been sitting by the fire when Doireann’s eyes glazed over and she uttered a fateful prediction.

You are mates, and you’re in love with each other. May the Mighty Gods help
us,
the darkness will devour you both.

The wife of the warrior clan’s leader had warned her about the certainty of prophecies. They couldn’t be prevented, whatever actions were undertaken to thwart them, and the wise woman had been so right in all aspects. Mates they were, so in love with each other that her heart ached. Cameron had already been devoured and she’d be next.

She still managed to keep fear at bay, despite the coldness cramping her body and soul. Death had caught up with her, but the acute hope of being reunited with him in the ethers filled her with peace.

The black layer of ice reached her belly and constricted her hands. She tried to flex her fingers, but they seemed rigid as stone. Frost surrounded her wrists just as the Darkening’s hood tilted to the side.

No begging to save your life?

“I can’t beg for something impossible. You aren’t worthy of saving a human life. You are just dirt under the foot of a Mighty God.”

Too late she saw the long claw rush at her with frightening speed. The razor-sharp nails sank into the flesh of her face, and cut her open from cheekbone to chin. She screamed, her shout of pain rebounding on the pillars and echoing around the walls of the dark fortress.

Chapter Forty-Two

Not so cocky now.

Blood gushed down the side of her face. She felt the thick liquid wet her skin and heard drop after drop hit the floor. This injury was serious enough to drain all the blood from her body, and with her magic gone, she had no means to heal herself. Realising she wouldn’t last long now, she defied the cloaked form.

“You seem cocky enough for the both of us. Yet here I am, still alive, and ready to pound on your ugly mug.”

The rough cackles originating from under the hood grated on her nerves as the ice imprisoned her arms and chest, but she maintained a straight face. Why was the Darkening delaying the moment of her death? Helpless, caged in indestructible frost, what threat could she represent?

The only thing you’re ready for is dying.

“Then why don’t you just kill me?”

Because you have utterly failed, and so have your so-called Mighty Gods. They have no power over me. They are weak, inconsistent, and selfish. I am the future. I am humanity, come to rule this realm. Before I eradicate your kind, you shall see what will come to pass when I reign over your world. So will your Gods, through your eyes. I want them to witness their complete failure.

So that was the reason the darkness kept her alive a little longer.
To brag, to show off its domination and triumph over the Creators.

The thick coat of ice slithered up her neck, chin, and cheeks, freezing her flesh, annihilating the intense pain from her wound. Oddly enough, given that she was being buried alive, she breathed more easily as soon as the pain vanished. The sombre figure raised its sharp claw, and she braced herself for total darkness, silence, and desolation.

The hateful presence, the vast hallway, and the black fortress disappeared while clear images replaced them in her mind. Eyes wide open on a vision that had not yet come to
pass,
she watched the new world engendered by the victory of the Darkening.

A glorious sun spread heat over immense fields where wheat, rye, and corn ripened under the warm rays. Strong trees shot toward the deep blue skies bearing oranges, lemons, olives, and many coloured fruits. Clear water tumbled along streamlets, large rivers, or cascaded down high, beautiful cliffs.

Snow capped soaring mountains, their pointy peaks reaching for the ethers, the steep sides down to the bottom displaying lush, green vegetation. Fresh grass grew around vast lakes glittering under the reflection of the sun, and bordering dense, thriving forests.

An endless body of blue-green liquid rolled or churned under the force of invisible currents, its powerful waters extending as far as the eye could see. The amazing mass undulated and rippled with the wind. Long bands of white curls formed on the surface where the expanse ended, and came to die before thin, golden stretches of land.

What was she fighting for? Why did the Mighty Gods want to prevent the rise of such a gorgeous, breath taking world?

“I don’t understand.”

The words barely passed her lips before the black ice engulfed the rest of her face, freezing her eyes open for all eternity. There was no way she could still breathe with her mouth and nose blocked, yet she felt no lack of air, and she could still make out the sombre form through the frozen layer. Cold, trapped, and buried alive, just like in her nightmares.

You will.

She gasped when vivid, coloured images assaulted her mind again. Huge cities invaded the landscape, people swarming the pathways like industrious colonies of ants. So many people flocking alleys, lanes, and wide, gray streets where metal carts on wheels whizzed past them. Gigantic towers reflecting the glare of the sun stood as high as the sky.

In dark, narrow paths between tall buildings, people got knifed in the guts while others fell from being hit with small projectiles in the shape of pointed cylinders. Clean looking structures housed animals in cages. The defenceless creatures were beaten, tormented, and maimed to create small pills and oily artefacts.

Near the statue of a lady holding a flame, big birds made of metal flew across the sky to crash into high towers, causing human shapes on fire to jump out of windows and plummet to their deaths.

Entire towns vanished, destroyed by an explosive weapon releasing smoke in the form of a mushroom cloud. Men of war separated entire families before locking them up in chambers that filled with lethal gas. Warriors transported in flat boats were cut down to pieces as they landed on stretches of yellow land displaying big, square blocks of stone.

All over the world, soldiers decimated whole populations with black, metal tube weapons. Hot and cold territories shook with screams of pain, soaked in the blood of their people.

In a vast, arid land scorched by the sun, brown-skinned infants died of starvation, their dried tears crusted to the corner of their eyes. Little girls were mutilated. Somewhere else, men paid to rape and torture children.

Stop! Please, stop!

Her frozen mouth didn’t allow her to speak, yet she heard her yell of anguish resonate around the fortress.

Stop. I can’t stand it anymore.

Bile rose up her throat. Her insides shuddered with revulsion at the memory of such cruelty and misery, of all that blood spilled for nothing. Maybe those people had chosen the Darkening as their master. Or they had lost hope, and let it become their ruler...
Exactly like she was doing.

Fear and understanding struck her at last, just as the Lord of the Clans’ words burst through her immobility to swirl and echo in her brain.
If you surrender to despair, then you dig your own grave. You must have hope.

She had now. Sickened and revolted by the atrocious pictures she witnessed, her entire being rebelled at the idea of seeing her world fall into such viciousness. She would not allow it.

The hooded form had called itself humanity because hate, barbarity, and evil lurked within its dark folds. They existed in the Four Kingdoms, although not to this extreme degree of violence.

The people from the new world had let evil take over their souls, and it had unleashed their deepest wickedness. She wouldn’t commit the same mistake. She owed it to Cameron, and to her realm.

Horror made her blood boil. She’d lost all physical sensations when the frost enclosed her body, but pins and needles now pricked her fingers and toes. The unexpected pain inflamed her fury as the Darkening approached her. When unbearable heat suddenly whooshed up her limbs to transform her into a vibrant, fiery mass, she let it.

Dazzling, white light burst out of her body and shattered the black ice to pieces. So violent was the explosion that frozen chunks ripped through the dark cloak. The evil stepped back, but the gaping hole under the hood remained as black as the darkest night.

There you are. You’re finally showing me your real force.

Every inch of her skin gave off brilliance. The great power from the Ancients ran freely in her blood, awakening all her senses, taking complete possession of her body and mind. The pain vanished as she allowed the old magic to seize her and become her, while hope and faith flooded her core.

Although she revelled in the incredibly staggering sensation, she stayed in control. The Ancients were giving her their full power, as was meant to be, but they didn’t dictate her actions. She did.

“I will not allow you to create this new world.”

The horrid laugh coming from the darkness seemed to crack her brain. Teeth gritted, she shuddered when it spoke with a hissing voice.

I don’t create anything. I exploit what’s already there. The realm I showed to your Mighty Gods is what’s left of the Four Kingdoms once I’m done with it.

Her pulse pounded in her ears, kicking her heart, lighting sparks of fire into each of her nerves. She was liberated from the black ice, and she burned with the desire to hurl her power at the monster challenging her.

Yet she bid her time because she knew. As the evil revealed the fate of the Four Kingdoms, she grasped the true nature of its essence, as well as the only means to rid her world of its foul presence.

Face to face, they waited. Because she stood at least six foot five, and her big muscles bulged and strained with the need to strike, she had the impression of observing her enemy through the Lord of the Clans’ eyes.
As though he was still there.
Thinking of him only made her radiate more light.

“Bring it on, you motherfucker.”

You believe your Mighty Gods will protect you because they entrusted their will in you, but they’re wrong. You can’t slay me.

Confidence and white light oozing from her, she quirked her lips into a smirk and crooked her finger.

“Then what are you afraid of?”

Her challenging gesture shattered the status quo. The cloaked figure dissolved into a large cloud of black dust and slammed into her. She didn’t fight when the evil penetrated her body through every pore, but embraced it instead. She rocked as it went through her, across her, and into her—to steal her humanity. Eyes closed, she let it claim her.

Black dust gagged her. She felt like retching as smut seized her vital organs and flooded her blood, yet she clung to the hope of saving her people, of fulfilling the crucial role entrusted to her by the long dead Ancients, and of being worthy of Cameron’s faith in her.

You were the sole, pitiful defence between me and my new playground filled with weak, terrorised humans. But you’re dying, creature, and your universe is mine to haunt and torture for as long as I wish.

Even deep inside her, the Darkening could still reach her brain. She could hear munching noises as it suckled her blood and gnawed at her heart, but the white light kept on glowing off her. Gaze fastened on the dark shadows ruling over the Black Fortress, she let the evil feast on her.

She had to make it her prisoner. She needed to ensure it would be too immersed inside her to flee. Against all survival instincts, she mustered her willpower to remain motionless and allow the monster to devour her. She closed her conscience to the scrunching sounds, yet the hissing voice still penetrated her mind with extreme clarity.

I am The Lord. You cannot destroy me.

The Darkening was right. She never possessed the means to kill it, because her great power wasn’t a weapon of war.

Unbearable pain struck her when the dust latched onto the last barrier of her being. She screamed as it lashed at her core. It cackled as she filled her lungs with a last breath. This darkness of the human soul wasn’t a fatality, but a disease, and she was a healer.

She shut her eyes to the outside world. At her command, the magic flew inward to cure her dying body. She heard a strangled gasp followed by a long, hateful bellow of agony.

Then she knew no more.