Fearless Magic (23 page)

“So you are not just worried about Avalon?” He asked, carefully.

“That is my goal, right now. Of course, I'm worried about him. But he and I both knew that when they took him that night, there was a chance we would never see each other again. And this cause was worth both Amory and Avalon fighting for, and worth dying for. And now I have inherited not only their willingness to sacrifice everything for freedom, but their passion as well.”

Sebastian listened to my words, but didn't respond. I too fell silent, letting the reality of my claims sink in. Until this moment, I focused on revenge and rescuing Avalon, but I had to accept that my mission was bigger than my brother. I didn't have access to our open communication any more, but I knew without a doubt that he was willing to die for his people, even if I was going to do everything in my power to stop that from happening.

Somewhere along the way, I started to believe in something more than revenge, and found a purpose. Not that long ago, I was confused about which side of the aisle I stood and when they killed Amory and took Avalon, I thought they decided for me. But now I held my own beliefs, my own vision for this kingdom and that alone was enough to lessen the hold on me that Kiran still owned.

Chapter Twenty-One

We landed eight hours later at the same airstrip I used during my Eternal Walk. Jericho explained to me that Amory had several private hangers all around the world, and so storing a jet was no problem. I tried to comprehend what several hangers around the world meant, but wondered if I would ever get the hang of this literal jet-set lifestyle.

I almost expected the silent stewards to greet us at the end of the tarmac, and was a little disappointed when they didn't. I missed those women. We never spoke a word to one another, but I craved their calming presence and attentiveness. Most of all, I craved their femininity. I started to resent being the only girl. After India, our next stop would be Romania; I needed get to Lilly. Even Roxie would be an improvement, for that matter.

The moment we landed in India, something started to stir inside of me, the blue smoke was home and I felt that deep within. My magic perked up and my senses heightened. India held an eternal calling, a shared language with my magic.

I fingered Kiran's pendant and engagement ring, still hanging from my neck. They burned against my skin as if blasphemously out of place. I cleared my throat and shook my head, reminding myself that I stripped them of their power. I stole the magic from the necklace and I emptied the engagement ring of any significance. Still they lay hot against my skin, foreigners in a land where I felt native.

Despite the necklace, I sighed with contentment. India was the right step to take. I could leave London and my failure behind and breath in the humid air, listen to the jungle calling and cleanse myself from disappointment here.

“Do you know where we're going?” I called out to Jericho and Titus.

“Kind of....” Titus answered. The two of them were commandeering a vehicle for the trip. Titus insisted on individual motorcycles since before we landed, and Jericho was adamant that we needed something sturdier.

“Great,” I mumbled, rolling my eyes. “Gabriel, aren't you hot? Don't you want to change?”

Gabriel hung back with me, tasked with guarding Sebastian. He still wore his priestly outfit, but the heat forced him to tug at his collar. He turned to me with a stern glare, the bright orange flare of his eyes, dimmed behind dark, aviator sunglasses.

“What a funny question you ask a man of God,” he commented without answering my question. “I have taken my vows for life.”

“No, I meant, your outfit. I am not asking you to give up the priesthood!” I shrieked, realizing we had serious communication issues.

“Hmmm....” he sighed and then walked away to see if he could help Titus and Jericho decide what to do.

“You do a fantastic good job of assembling the best of the best, don't you?” Sebastian asked, snidely.

“Don't start!” I threatened, grabbing a hold of his arm and pulling him along towards the other guys.

In the end, Jericho found an old, eight passenger, white, van whose sides were completely rusted out and one of the back windows was broken and replaced with cardboard and duct tape. Not a lot of options existed for shopping around at an airstrip in the middle of nowhere.

Jericho volunteered to drive, when the rest of the men remained silent. Titus couldn't even look at the van without grimacing in disgust. Gabriel sat in the front seat with Jericho and I had to use magic to get the sliding, back door opened.

The van smelled like rotten fish and none of the windows would open. The ripped seats, with exposed springs, made dangerous barriers between spaces. And to make it even worse, when Jericho finally started the engine, it roared and grumbled at an ear-splitting volume.

Sebastian gave me a sarcastic thumbs up, and then lulled his head against the back of his seat, closing his eyes and crossing his arms. I decided to do the same. The flight was long, and I didn't sleep the entire way.

The burning sun was setting over India, as we drove the familiar rode deeper into the jungle. The sky glowed brightly behind us in orange and soft pinks, but ahead of us laid the dark anonymity of dense trees and dangerous animals.

I remembered the road being rough the first time I traveled this way and physically tensed at the thought of traversing those roads in the death-trap I now bounced around in. I sunk lower in my seat, nestling my head against the rotten smelling upholstery and closed my eyes. I was happy to be in India, but even more happy to grow my team. In a day, we would be on our way to Romania. We would be on our way to Avalon.

----

The setting sun streamed brilliantly through the open window, high above the boy's head. He lifted his chin as if to touch it, as if he only needed to feel the warmth of that one beam and all would be right.

His hands, bleeding and raw, stayed tied, tightly behind his back; his ankles looked as though the skin was brutally torn away to the bone. He half laughed at the idea of restraints at all, he was too weak to move, let alone escape this new dungeon.

Outside his room he heard footsteps, the smart clicking of a stately walk, and knew what the next few moments would be like. He wanted to be afraid, he wanted to cringe in anticipation, he wanted to feel something, to feel anything, even fear.

But no emotions came, no sense of warning, no prickling in the neck. Not even his blood stirred. He was an empty shell, hollowed and beaten beyond recognition.

The old, wooden door opened, creaking at its hinges, pushing the loose straw that lay indiscriminately across the floor, towards the wall. In walked his captor, his tyrant, his king. He towered over the boy, his crooked crown glinting in the sunlight. The blessed light now tainted with evil and glaring in his eyes.

The king stood staring down at the boy, a sinister smile twisting his lips and his hard, blue eyes satisfied with victory. The boy's stomach lurched and the fear that he had been desperate for only moments before, came now in waves of panic. His numb, tingling hands began to tremble against their restraints and he vowed to himself that if something had happened to her, he would murder the immortal king himself, magic or no.

“Cheer up, dear boy,” the king commanded, “the cavalry has arrived.”

“What have you done with her,” the boy growled. Even bound and weak, he was still menacing and dangerous.

“I haven't done anything with her.... yet,” the king smirked. “But she has come!” He clasped his hands together in pure certainty, sure of his impending win. “She has finally realized that she cannot win, and she has come to make the trade. Your freedom for hers.”

“She has told you this?” the boy asked, not believing even a breath that was exhaled from the oppressor.

“Why else would she be here?” the king snapped, stomping his foot and demanding his prisoner's answer.

“I wouldn't know,” the boy stared at the ground, refusing the king's demand for attention. “But I highly doubt it's to rescue me. More likely, it has something to do with killing you,” he scoffed through a strained voice that struggled to reach above a whisper.

“Hmmm.... you're probably right,” the king agreed, more easily than the boy trusted. “At any rate, we know she is here, and we know exactly how to bait her out. Guards!” the king commanded, and the door opened immediately.

Three, strong, imposing men walked through the door, ominous simpers mimicked across every face. They glowered at the prisoner, hoping their king called them in for one reason alone.

“Make sure he looks nice and pretty for our guests,” the king ordered, before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

----

I shot up in the darkness, bumping my head against a hard surface and grasping at everything around me. I took a moment to realize the ear-splitting screams piercing my ears, were coming from my mouth and clasped my hands firmly across my lips to silence them. My body trembled, drenched in sweat and stiff from sitting in the car too long.

I tried to hold still, to put the pieces together, but they were fleeing. This dream was more vivid, more cohesive than any of the others. There was more to it than fear, more to it than pain. There were moments of information, but they were slipping away before I could put them together.

I pounded my palm against my head, demanding that my brain work. I surged the electricity through my blood in weak attempts at forcing magic to make my mind obey. But the majority of my memories were gone, lost in the subconscious world I still shared with Avalon.

Avalon.

He was here.

In India.

The details of the dream fled and I would never nail down the specifics. But this nightmare was different from all the rest, this nightmare left an impression. In the moments where my mind drifted, where the subconscious took hold, I was back with Avalon, seeing through his eyes, feeling through his senses. And the only explanation for the new vividness had to be that we were closer together. He
had
to be here.

I looked around, wondering why someone hadn't asked me to keep quiet and realized we weren't moving. The van was parked, surrounded by exotic, Indian forestry and the sounds of the wild jungle calling out to each other in the darkness.

I looked around frantically, for a moment believing they abandoned me. The tingling sensation that alerted my blood that I was near Immortals prickled underneath my skin. I stepped out of the van, breathing in deeply the fresh, night air and spotted a campfire a little ways from where the van sat.

I stumbled through the darkness, too excited to bother with magic, toward the campfire, toward the gathered Resistance. The farther the dream flew from consciousness, the more sure I became that Avalon was here. He had no magic left, and the memories of nights awakened, screaming and clawing out in the darkness made my heart stop beating for fear of what he was suffering through. But I could still feel him, his blood, as weak and powerless as it was, still pumped in unison with mine. Not completely severed, our connection still searched each other out in moments of terrible struggle. He was my twin. My brother. And I could still feel him near.

I walked out of the deep vegetation into a circle of Immortals, laughing and talking quietly around a large fire. Jericho sat across the camp, conferring seriously with Gabriel and his reunited team members. I recognized none of the rest of the faces, representing a more global community than I expected.

The tight circle of the gathered rebellion buzzed with excited electricity. Wrapped in an invisible cloud of collective magic, they pulsated with the same purpose and drive. We were in this together. I didn't know them, and they didn't know me; some of them, might not even know each other. But we moved as one entity, with the same goal, the same dream and because of that, we could sit together in happy union for tonight, not knowing what the morning would bring.

And not afraid of the unknown.

I took a breath, inhaling the smoky campfire and drawing the attention of the group, interrupting their excited chatter with my magical presence. Quieting down and growing still they looked to me. I was supposed to be their leader, they were the ones following me and yet I came to petition them for advice.

I stared at them for a moment, wishing I possessed Avalon's strengths, wishing I could just call the Titan part of me forward and demand that it take control of the crowd. Instead, fear and uncertainty governed my emotions and even in front of people who stood with me, side by side, I couldn't find the courage to request a response.

“Avalon's here,” I blurted loudly, surprising most of them with information I should not rationally know.

“He's what?” Jericho stood up.

“He's here, he's in India,” Most of the rebellion knew about the telepathic connection Avalon and I shared. Before the tragic night at the farm, Amory trusted our secret with those that shared the mark of the Resistance. However, I was still sure that Lucan and his Guard were clueless to the open communication Avalon and I shared before he gave up his magic. With Sebastian sitting in the group tonight, I couldn't risk going into too many details and suddenly regretted my proclamation.