Authors: Kate Douglas
Tags: #Romance, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Fiction, #General, #Paranormal, #Demonology, #Revenge, #Paranormal Romance Stories
Starfire (19 page)
Scrambling, Selyn caught up to the two as they fought their way across the floor. “I’m here. Sorry,” she said, ducking to miss the slash of steel just over her head. “Artigos and I were admiring your footwork.”
Dawson slapped his blade against the man’s back as he stumbled and turned. Selyn caught the escaping demon with her crystal, and it sparked and faded away in a cloud of smoke. As this demon died, Birk managed to corner the last of the guards. Artigos stepped in, forced the demon out with DemonsBane, and moved out of the way so that Birk could destroy the creature.
The five guards lay on the floor in various stages of consciousness. Only one, the first, was still entirely out of it. The others were slowly sitting up, shaking their heads, and gazing about with confused expressions and trembling hands.
Birk went to the one man who was still out. He shook the guardsman’s shoulder and, when he opened his eyes, helped the man sit up. “Now do you believe?”
The guard nodded. Then he glanced at Selyn, realized she was one of the Forgotten Ones, and looked away. The other four had a similar reaction. They all huddled together on the floor, unsure now what was expected of them.
Birk sighed. “I imagine it’s going to affect all of them this way, once we bring them together with the women.” He looked at Selyn. “There’s a lot of shame involved. I feel it. I know they feel it. We are the men who fathered all of the young women. One of us may be your father, Selyn.”
He sighed and, like the others, glanced away. “We don’t even know which ones are our daughters. Those were terrible times, and awful things happened. Somehow, we need to work past the shame the men feel, and the rightful anger harbored in the hearts of the Forgotten Ones. As impossible as it sounds, we need to learn to trust each other if we’re going to form a cohesive fighting unit.”
Selyn glanced at Dawson and then focused on Birk. “Many of the women won’t want to forgive. They’re armed with crystal, though, and the swords seem to know we have to work together. It has to happen now, not later. Time may be running out.”
Dawson wrapped an arm around her waist. “I’m worried that we haven’t heard from either Taron or Roland. Not a single word since they returned to the upper levels, and Roland went back almost a full day before Taron. Something’s wrong, but we have to get everyone working together here, or we won’t be able to help them.”
Selyn squeezed his hand. “Shouldn’t we go above and find out what’s happening?”
Artigos sheathed his ruby sword. “Not yet. Dawson is right. It’s time to bring the women and the guards together.” He glanced at the five men still sitting on the ground. Then he tilted his head, smiled at Selyn, and shrugged. “Then, all we have to do is convince them not to kill each other.”
Chapter Fifteen
“So, Ragus of Kumer, do you understand what it means to carry crystal?” Ginny pushed the pace as they headed into the lower prison level, but try as she might, she’d not been able to get much out of the young guard who’d offered to show her the way.
“Yes, m’lady. It’s a great honor.” He kept his eyes forward, though she was certain he was just itching to pull his new crystal sword out and play with his unexpected treasure.
“But do you realize exactly what that honor signifies?”
He slowed just a bit and sent a quick glance in Ginny’s direction. “I’m not quite sure what you’re asking, m’lady.”
“Let me tell you what it means to carry crystal. Listen carefully, Ragus of Kumer, because I don’t know if you get it or not, and your life could depend on what you do and don’t understand. It means your life, as you’ve always known it, is forfeit. Your life now belongs to the sentience within your blade. It may not speak to you yet, but it knows you. It watches you, and it will not allow you to do anything to harm Lemuria.”
Obviously insulted, he stopped and glared at Ginny with total disregard for the fact she was the one who’d made it possible for him to carry crystal in the first place.
“I am a Lemurian guardsman. I’ve sworn to protect Lemuria, m’lady. I would never harm my world.”
He sounded so indignant that Ginny had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing. He seemed so young, though as a Lemurian, he could still be thousands of years older than she was. “I believe you, Ragus. Yet you follow orders that have been given to you and your men by a council member who is controlled by a demon.”
He rubbed his forehead and frowned at her. “No. That can’t be true. Drago has been a councilman since I was a child. He comes from a long line of loyal Lemurians.”
“He is possessed by demonkind. Even Drago refuses to believe that a demon has become a parasite within his body, but the demon controls the way he thinks, the decisions he makes, the orders he gives. Think of that as you guard Alton, the one man here who is capable of protecting Lemuria from complete and total subjugation by Abyss.”
She spun away and started walking.
Idiot.
How in the hell was she going to convince this dolt that Drago was the enemy?
Idiot.
How in the hell was she going to convince this dolt that Drago was the enemy?
Ragus trotted to catch up. “How do you know this to be true, m’lady? Please pardon my asking, but how do I know you’re not lying to me?”
They’d reached the level where the prisoners were kept. A huge guard with long, black braids framing his face blocked the way. Ginny acknowledged him with a brief nod. Then she turned her back on him and gave her full attention to Ragus. The young guard stared at her almost insolently.
“Ya know, we really don’t have time for this shit.” She drew DarkFire—not to attack, but to show her blade to the young guard. “DarkFire, explain, please, how we know Drago is possessed.”
The sword glowed a dark lavender. “Drago reeks of demonkind. The stench is unmistakable. He has been possessed since the great move from the Lemurian homeland.”
Ginny noticed the guard at the gate had come to his feet. The big man moved closer. His attention was focused entirely on DarkFire. The sword glowed and spoke again. “Many of the Council of Nine are ruled by demonkind. The battle to save the soul of Lemuria draws nigh.”
“That’s the Crone’s voice.” As the prison guard stared at Ginny’s glowing blade, a huge grin slowly split his face. “I’d heard she joined the spirit world, that she now lived in crystal.” He raised his head and flashed his smile at Ginny. “I am of Daria’s line. We disguised our name for many years following the purge of women warriors. Now I proudly call myself Grayl of Daria.”
Ginny bowed her head to him. “You should be proud, Grayl of Daria. I am honored to bear Daria’s spirit within DarkFire.”
Grayl shot a stern glance at the young guard standing beside Ginny. “You’ve not brought this brave warrior to the cells as a prisoner, have you?”
Ragus shook his head. “No, sir. She wishes to speak with two of the prisoners, Roland of Kronus and Taron of Libernus.”
The guard growled. “These good men should not be held behind bars. What laws have they broken?”
Ginny shook her head. “None that we know of, other than putting the fate of Lemuria first.”
“I would free them if I could.”
Ginny gently placed her hand on his forearm. “I believe you, Grayl of Daria. Do you swear to put Lemuria first, even if it means breaking a superior’s order?”
Grayl’s head jerked back, and his gaze flashed from Ragus to Ginny. She grinned. “This is not a hypothetical question. You will be asked to stand behind your oath.”
He took a deep breath, stared into her eyes for a long moment, and then slowly nodded. “Aye, m’lady. I promise to serve Lemuria and not the politicians set on ruining it for their own gain. This I swear.”
“Hold your sword high, Grayl of Daria.”
Again he shot a look at Ragus, but he drew his steel sword and held it upright. Ginny touched DarkFire’s tip to his blade, crystal to steel. Light flashed, a blast of purple burst from the tip, raced down the steel blade, and sparked in lavender lights around the guard’s huge fist.
He stared at his right arm, and then raised his eyes to his blade. What had been steel was now a multifaceted blade of purest crystal. Wide-eyed, he turned to Ginny. “But … how?”
“We’re building an army, one loyal soul at a time. Crystal will only form if your heart is true. Thank you, Grayl of Daria. Please take us to the prisoners. And keep your sword sheathed. It will appear as steel to any casual observer, but when the time is right, you will wield crystal against demonkind.”
I see you’ve added another to our army.
Alton’s laughter slipped into Ginny’s mind.
Alton’s laughter slipped into Ginny’s mind.
That I have. He’s of Daria’s line, and he holds the keys to the prison cells.
Excellent. We won’t be able to communicate once you enter the cells, but don’t break our friends free yet. I want to try proper channels first.
I was afraid you’d say that.
Alton’s laughter echoed in her thoughts. She missed him. She hoped it was merely their separation that had her feeling edgy and uncomfortable. She glanced about at gray walls and dark shadows. Then the guard sheathed his sword and walked toward a heavy door set into the stone wall.
Alton’s laughter echoed in her thoughts. She missed him. She hoped it was merely their separation that had her feeling edgy and uncomfortable. She glanced about at gray walls and dark shadows. Then the guard sheathed his sword and walked toward a heavy door set into the stone wall.
“Come, m’lady. This way.”
With Ragus close behind, Ginny followed Grayl into the dark tunnel that led down into the prison.
Isra was not among the Forgotten Ones. Selyn called them, and each woman came, walking with a new confidence, wearing hand-stitched pants and tops, similar in style to Selyn’s cotton scrubs. The garments were made from the robes they’d worn as slaves, cut now to clothe warriors carrying crystal. At each woman’s hip was a crystal sword, sheathed not in the homemade fabric Selyn had expected, but instead in matching red leather scabbards.
Scabbards that had magically appeared, just as Selyn and Dawson’s had, at some point during the night. That was the good news. The exciting news.
Isra’s disappearance was something else. “What if she’s given away our plans?” Selyn kept her eyes on the women gathered and waiting for instructions.
Dawson shrugged. “Who would she give them to? No one here. She’d have to leave the slaves’ level. Has she ever gone above?”
“I don’t know.” Selyn’s mind felt ready to burst with all the things that could go wrong. Isra had suddenly moved to the top of her list. “What if she goes to the guards?”
“What if she does?” Dawson merely shrugged. He didn’t look the least bit concerned. “They’re no longer possessed, and Artigos and Birk are speaking to them now. Relax, sweetheart. Everything will work. Are you ready?”
Relax? Right. Who was he kidding? She nodded and gazed at the army of women she’d known her entire life. They faced a new world and unknown dangers. None of them, except for Selyn, had ever traveled beyond this level. Would all of them gather together, ever again?
And who would survive? They were going into battle. Much as their mothers had once fought to save their world—a world that then turned its back on the bravest of the brave—these courageous women now prepared to fight. What if their need for revenge was too great? What if they refused to help put Artigos the Just back into power?
So many questions. And no answers. Not a one.
She felt Dawson’s strong hands at her waist. “Hang on,” he said, and suddenly she was flying. Startled, Selyn almost lost her footing when he set her on the same table where she’d spread crystal swords just a few short hours ago.
She flashed him a quick smile of thanks. At least now she could see everyone. Then she turned and faced her sisters, the Forgotten Ones. Women who would be forgotten no more.
Holding both hands high, she called out to get their attention. “Thank you, all of you, for heeding my call. For heeding the call of our mothers. Already there are changes. We carry crystal, as our mothers before us. The machines have fallen silent, and our work in the mines has come to an end. Our lifetime of slavery is over!”
A cheer went up. She glanced from face to face, saw tears in the eyes of many, resolve on the faces of others, a flicker of fear on more than one. They had every right to fear. They faced an uncertain future, a totally unfamiliar world.
Slavery was familiar. Would they be accepted in the levels above? How would they manage, living among the free folk?
Selyn held tightly to her resolve. “You’ve all noticed the guards are no longer watching us. There is a reason for that, a reason for so much of the evil that has ruled us for so long.”
There was a bit of mumbling, the sound of feet shuffling, but without the constant roar of the mining machines, it still felt unnaturally quiet. She glanced at Dawson and absorbed his steady strength. With him behind her and a crystal sword in her hand, Selyn felt as if she could accomplish anything.
“Since the beginning, the wardens, these men who guard us, have been possessed by demons—lesser demons that insinuated themselves into the bodies, hearts, and minds of men who were, in the beginning, honorable soldiers. Before long, those demons controlled every thought, every action. It was demonkind directing our torment, leading the assaults against our mothers. Demons controlled the actions and caused the lack of morality in the men who fathered each of us.”
Someone cursed; another woman spat. Selyn took a deep breath and carefully weighed her words. “Hear me now. We need to take another look at the animosity we have felt all our lives toward those men. They are victims. Just as we have been victimized by their cruelty, they have been victimized by the demons ruling their every thought and action for millennia.”
“The bastards need to die.”
Selyn didn’t see who shouted the threat, but she noticed that most of the women before her nodded in agreement. “No,” she said, raising her voice and making eye contact with as many of her sisters as she could. “The men don’t need to die. The demons within them needed to die, and they have. Those same men want to fight beside us in this battle. They ask for our forgiveness. We need to give it to those who have been as sorely treated by demonkind as we have. They were nothing more than tools. We need to forgive them and fight with them, not against them. We have a common enemy, and we have got to fight together if we want to win, and we have to win if we want to survive.”
The mumbling grew. Selyn glanced frantically at Dawson. What if she couldn’t convince them?
“Draw your sword,” Dawson said softly. “Let your blade speak.”
“But it’s not sentient,” she whispered. “I don’t think it can talk. I don’t even know its name.”
“Draw it. Hold it high.”
His quiet confidence was actually sort of addictive. Selyn took a deep breath, nodded, and pulled her silent sword from the magical red sheath. As the blade slipped from the leather, Selyn thought of the way the scabbard had just appeared this morning, created out of nothing as far as she could tell.
If the sword could create its own scabbard, why couldn’t it help her now? She was smiling as she grasped the hilt firmly in her hand and held the blade high. The crystal glowed, star bright and alive in her hand. The mumbling grew; the curses were more distinct. Her sword vibrated in her grasp, and Selyn clung tightly to the jeweled pommel. Holding the glowing blade high, she waited and hoped like the nine hells Dawson knew what he was talking about.
Dawson stood back with his arms folded across his chest and fought to keep the stupid grin off his face. He was so damned proud of her, the way she stood up there on the table, wearing his faded scrubs and Gaia’s sandals, holding that beautiful sword over her head and facing her sisters as if she’d led armies all her life. What a natural!
Her blade glowed brighter, hotter. Then a burst of sparks shot from the tip, looking for all the world like a cascade of shooting stars.
“Take heed.”
Dawson knew she had them on the first words from the shimmering blade. As if every woman suddenly realized her own crystal sword had the same potential for sentience, the same living spirit inside, they surged forward, eyes wide, faces alive with excitement.
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