Authors: Kate Douglas
Tags: #Romance, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Fiction, #General, #Paranormal, #Demonology, #Revenge, #Paranormal Romance Stories
Starfire (20 page)
“Lemuria’s true leader waits nearby with a small army of men. Your wardens, as you know them, yet they are changed men. No longer tools of demonkind, they have chosen to follow Artigos the Just. Most carry steel blades. Without crystal, they cannot prevail against demonkind. You must work with them to hold freedom for all Lemurians. Without your forgiveness, they cannot bear crystal. Their shame is too great.”
The sword dimmed. Selyn stared at the blade for a moment, and then she slipped it back into her scabbard. “So,” she said, her voice sounding weary beyond measure. “Power is in our hands. We must use it wisely. It’s up to all of us. We must find it in our hearts to forgive the men who have treated us as the slaves we were for all these long years. One who is filled with shame cannot carry crystal. Only we have the power to lift that burden from their souls.”
Nica stepped forward. She smiled at Dawson and then looked up at Selyn, standing above her on the table. “I’m not sure I have it in me to forgive, Selyn. I still bear scars from more than one beating. I would like to see these men first and judge for myself if they are worthy of forgiveness.”
Selyn nodded and turned back to the rest of the women. “Are you willing to give them a chance?”
Mumbles and a few sharp retorts, more talking and a couple of brief arguments later, it was agreed. Selyn jumped down from the table. “What now? Do we just take them to Artigos?”
Dawson took her hand. “I think that’s as good an idea as any. Don’t you think it’s time to find out just what kind of leader we’ve decided to back?”
It felt almost anticlimactic to grab up their small bags of belongings and walk away from the slave quarters and the mines, this dark piece of Lemuria where they’d been born, where they’d lived all their lives, where they’d watched their mothers die.
Where each of them, at one time or another, had faced some form of cruelty or ill treatment from the men who now waited nearby, hoping for their absolution.
Alton paced the small area inside his quarters, cursing under his breath. He’d changed out of that damned robe and wore his jeans and boots and a dark flannel shirt. With his hair braided back from his face, and his scabbard lashed across his back, he was ready for whatever came next. Screw the council and their frickin’ robes, and screw this confinement.
He wanted to know where in the nine hells Ginny was. He’d lost touch with her when she entered the prison cells, as he knew he would, but that was hours ago, damn it, and the guards outside his door hadn’t offered a bit of information.
Well, nine hells and then some. If they weren’t going to offer, he’d go after it. He paused in front of the portal, thought for a good two seconds about whether or not this was going to piss them off, and then stepped through.
The corporal and his two remaining guards met him with crystal swords raised. “Nice blades,” he said, pouring on the sarcasm. “Put your weapons away. Now.” His growl must have been effective, because they complied immediately. He almost laughed, but damn it all, he was losing patience with this crap. “Any word from Ragus?”
“No, sir.” Balti, their leader, carefully sheathed his crystal blade. “Not since they entered the cells. That was his last report.”
“Okay. Then it’s official. I’m worried. I’ve not heard from my woman. I don’t like being out of contact with her this long, especially with things as unsettled as they are. Chancellor Artigos and my mother should have returned by now. At the very least, there should have been some contact from the members of the council regarding my arrest.”
The three men looked at one another. “Doman. Check on Ragus. Make sure there’s not a problem in the prison level.”
The man saluted and took off at a quick trot. Alton watched him go. “Corporal Balti, can you reach Drago? Are you in contact with him?”
“No, sir. I’ve tried reaching him, but I believe he’s gone through the veil.”
“Into Earth’s dimension?” A shiver raced along Alton’s spine. Where else could Drago be headed, if not to Earth? But why?
Balti shook his head. “No, sir. He only goes as far as the vortex, stays for a while, and then returns. He always carries his sword with him.”
“What color is the blade?” Alton tried to remember if he’d ever actually noticed Drago’s sword, but he couldn’t recall anything about it. All the council members owned crystal, they didn’t always carry their swords, and none of their blades were sentient. At least as far as Alton knew, they weren’t capable of communication with their owners. But what if …
Corporal Balti was scratching his balding head. “I’ve never noticed. He keeps it sheathed whenever he carries it, as do the other members of the council. None of them carry sentient blades. They’re really just for show.”
“I’m beginning to wonder.” Alton reached out for Ginny once again. Nothing. Damn. That sense of unease he’d awakened with was growing stronger by the second. “Corporal, remember that pledge you made to Lemuria?”
The man nodded slowly.
“I may have to invoke your promise to fight for Lemuria sooner rather than later. Something is building, some change in our world. I sense it in my gut and …”
Crap.
Why hadn’t he just asked his damned sword?
HellFire? Tell me what’s wrong. My senses are screaming right now, and not in a good way. Will you speak aloud? I want Balti to hear what you have to say.
Why hadn’t he just asked his damned sword?
HellFire? Tell me what’s wrong. My senses are screaming right now, and not in a good way. Will you speak aloud? I want Balti to hear what you have to say.
He reached over his shoulder and drew the blade free of the scabbard. Immediately, the crystal glowed, and HellFire spoke.
“Demonkind grows more powerful. You must arm the citizens of Lemuria.” The sword flashed. “Ginny and DarkFire have been taken. Find them in the cells below, imprisoned with Taron and Roland and his men. Beware the guardsmen who harbor demonkind.”
“Nine hells.” Alton stared at the blade. Then he shoved it inside the scabbard. “Okay, Balti. This has gone too far. While I’m stuck here in my quarters, Lemuria faces the risk of total annihilation. Make your decision, Corporal, and make it now. Who do you fight for?”
Corporal Balti snapped to attention. The men beside him did the same. “I gave my oath to fight for Lemuria. I’m with you, Chancellor. What do we do now?”
“We get Ginny, Roland, and the rest of them out of that damned cell. Then we find out what in the nine hells Drago is doing in the vortex.”
With Selyn at their head, the women marched into the cavern where Artigos the Just had been held prisoner since the great move from the dying world of Lemuria. All those long years, imprisoned with nothing more than his own thoughts and a few books to keep him sane, probably wondering if he’d ever again know freedom.
Selyn paused just inside the open area. Eighteen Lemurian guardsmen waited there. Eighteen men and one deposed world leader, waiting to see if the women warriors who had once been the wardens’ slaves had it in their hearts to forgive, if those same women would honor the leadership of a man long thought dead.
Dawson stayed to the back of the group and scanned the area, looking for Isra. No one had seen her since the night before. He worried about what kind of damage she could cause, should she decide to take out her anger on her sisters.
He saw no sign of the woman. The walls glowed with their unusual inner light, but this was a place of prison cells and military quarters. There were no works of art, no golden columns, no crystalline formations to break the drabness of barren walls and smooth ceiling.
All attention focused on the very tall, whipcord-lean man wearing a plain white robe, standing at the head of a group of solemn guardsmen robed in blue. Artigos’s long hair flowed to his waist, held away from his face with a single gold band around his forehead that appeared similar to the one holding Selyn’s hair. In spite of the gray streaks amid the brown, he held himself with the bearing and confidence of a young man. A man in his prime, ready for anything.
The women arranged themselves in a half circle in front of the men. Their anger was a living, breathing presence in the room, but they held themselves in check. Now they stared not at Artigos, but at the guards in formation behind him.
Dawson caught Selyn’s eye. She shrugged and turned her attention to Artigos.
“Lord Artigos, I bring you the Forgotten Ones, though I promise you, we are sworn to be forgotten no more. Our mothers were brave warriors who suffered much because of Lemurian politics and now, it appears, from demonkind as well. We carry crystal, we are strong, and we are courageous. Tell us why we should pledge our service, our very lives, to you. Convince us to put aside our need for revenge and fight beside the men who assaulted our mothers and abused all of us for so many years.”
Artigos stepped forward, away from the men who were so recently under thrall to demonkind. He acknowledged Selyn with a courteous bow, folded his arms across his chest, and made eye contact with every woman there.
Dawson felt the man’s resolve, but he also sensed his anger. Anger that these women had suffered, that his guards had suffered as well. When he spoke, it was with a powerful voice that commanded attention and sent shivers along Dawson’s spine. He had no doubt he stood in the presence of a great leader. He hoped the women felt it as well.
“I cannot apologize for the wrong that was done to you, the evil you have lived with. Demonkind deserves no apology. Only death. Nothing else will serve, and nothing can undo the harm that has been done. We can only do our best to prevent more harm from occurring. The men behind me have spent untold millennia ruled by demons. Their lives have not been their own, just as your lives have not been yours to live as you choose.”
He sighed and shook his head. “As your mothers’ lives were not theirs. I fear the war we Lemurians thought we had won so many years ago was nothing but a ruse to allow demons access into our civilization. They have infiltrated our leaders, our soldiers, the very fabric of our society, beginning when they first set into motion the destruction of our homeland.
“The decision is yours. You can fight us, crystal to steel, Lemurian against Lemurian, and exact your revenge against innocent men, or you can join with us to seek revenge against the demon horde that has caused so many deaths, so much misery to our entire civilization.”
He looked across the gathering of women and smiled. “You are all so young, and yet you have the hearts and souls of women warriors who fought bravely. Even so, I imagine you know little of your past beyond this immediate history. I want to tell you about your people—what this battle is really about. It’s a story very few souls even remember, as it was long before my time that Lemurians first settled on this world.”
He glanced at Dawson and then turned and focused on the men behind him for a moment. “Sit down. All of you. Get comfortable. We have time for a bit of a history lesson. I want all of you to know exactly what you’re fighting for.”
Chapter Sixteen
Even when he’d been locked away from everyone and everything he knew, Artigos had not felt his age as he felt it now. Looking out over the sea of young and hopeful faces, he realized he was most likely the last living soul who remembered hearing the stories of Lemuria’s beginnings from the mouths of those who’d actually lived them. He still recalled, as if it had been only days ago, listening as his grandparents described those terrifying times, and how they’d survived almost total annihilation of the original Lemurian civilization.
He could be the final link between those born on the home world, and those who had always called Earth—and now this Lemurian dimension within Earth’s rocky crust—their home.
He knew, firsthand, where they had come from, and why they had fled a dying world long before their new home on Earth had been destroyed.
The story was written down and stored in the archives, but did anyone even care anymore? There were so few of them left. From the last numbers he’d heard, barely a thousand Lemurians survived—if this could be called survival, this sleepwalk through their empty, wasted lives in an artificially created world. At least he had an excuse for not working harder to keep his society vital and growing.
He’d been a prisoner, locked in a cell for well over ten thousand years, but the time for excuses was past.
He watched as the young women seated themselves on the stone floor and listened to the rustle of robes and scuffling of sandals as his soldiers took their ease behind him. He glanced at the human leaning against the cavern wall and once again felt drawn to him. Somehow that young man, a mere infant compared to everyone in this room, might very well be the single factor that could tip the scales and save the Lemurian people, their world, and all the other civilized worlds from the eternal damnation of demon rule.
How or why, he wasn’t sure. The only thing Artigos could be certain of was the weight of too many lives hanging in the balance.
Worry solves nothing. It’s time for action.
With that thought in mind, he turned so that he could see everyone and leaned his hip against the scarred desk the guards used for their reports. It was the only piece of furniture in the cavern—an old and much-used remnant from Earth. It, too, probably had stories to tell, but where to begin his?
Folding his arms across his chest, Artigos began at the beginning. “Long before there were humans on Earth,” he said, “when the planet was nothing more than a developing world teeming with primitive life, the world where Lemurians originated, the place they called home, was facing annihilation. Our sun was going nova, and we had no choice but to abandon our home, the place where our civilization began.
“Lemurians had been space travelers for many years, and our technology was well advanced. I know that you must find that difficult to believe as you sit here on the stone floor of a cave in your rough garb and sandals, armed only with swords, but Lemurians of old once colonized other planets and regularly traveled among the stars. Unfortunately, the worlds we’d settled were in our same solar system, and they, too, faced destruction.
“Large ships for transporting our citizens beyond our solar system were prepared. Goods and people began moving aboard, until we had almost our entire population living on huge ships orbiting Lemuria, preparing to leave. Our scientists were hard at work, searching out worlds that could support us, but there weren’t very many, and the distance was great.
“Very few planets looked promising. Our laws prevented us from moving to worlds that already had sentient populations, but a few were primitive enough, new enough, and without sentient species of their own; those we felt free to colonize. Coordinates were fed into the ships’ computers, and we prepared for a diaspora beyond anything anyone had heard of before. An entire world—a long established, technologically advanced civilization—was moving en masse to another planet.
“Then the unthinkable happened. The sun exploded far ahead of the time our scientists had predicted. Instead of an orderly journey, the ships with their Lemurian cargo—the ones that were not destroyed in the initial explosion—were flung into space.
“We also believe they were flung through time, though we will never know for sure. Nor will we ever know how many of the hundreds of vessels survived. The ship my ancestors traveled on was damaged, but we made it to this world and landed on a lush continent in the midst of Earth’s Pacific Ocean. It was difficult at first, but eventually the colonists thrived in their new world. We’d brought our technology with us, along with our sentient crystal swords. They were the one physical link with our home world, created out of the crystals that formed our planet, carrying the spirits of our long-departed warriors. We managed to save our swords, even though much of our advanced technology was eventually lost. Life here was too easy, and our people became lazy.”
He smiled at the women who watched him so intently. “You have not had it so easy. You’ve struggled to survive; you’ve worked hard. You are more like our ancient ancestors than the spoiled free folk who run our world today. I imagine demons would not have found safe harbor within any of you.”
He turned his attention to the men. Each one had opened himself to demonkind. Not consciously, but they’d not fought against the bastards, either. “You were young, brave soldiers, but most of you came of age at the end of the Demon Wars. You were not tested in battle and had no idea how to fight the demons that raped your souls. Now you know. Demonkind will try again and again to gain access, but you cannot allow it. Fight them. With everything you are, you must fight them.”
He caught Dawson Buck’s eye, and nodded, sensing the young man’s impatience. He was right to be concerned. Time was short, but Artigos needed to finish this tale. He had to explain how they had come to this point, to this pivotal battle, and somehow hope it was enough to convince the women he was a worthy leader.
The men would follow. Their confidence in themselves was badly shaken, and he offered them hope of redemption, if only to die in battle as heroes against demonkind. He certainly hoped to offer more than that, but it would depend on the women.
Everything depended on them. They carried crystal; the men did not. He’d tried using DemonsBane to change the steel blades the way Roland’s sword had altered Birk’s, but it hadn’t worked. Some critical element was missing, and Artigos feared Selyn’s crystal sword was right—DemonsBane had passed DarkFire’s message on to him—that without the women’s forgiveness, the men were incapable of bearing crystal. Their shame was too great.
He focused on his audience. “Eventually, many thousands of years later, when most of the original colonists were long gone, we discovered another advanced society on the far side of Earth. Though they called themselves Atlanteans, they were too similar to us for it to be mere coincidence. Amazingly, they had been here much, much longer than we had, which is when we realized our world’s diaspora had taken some of our ships through time as well as space. The Atlanteans’ technology was even more advanced than ours, but by then we had begun to lose much of what we had once had, while they had obviously continued to develop. They no longer remembered their off-world beginnings. Lemuria was legend, nothing more. But we knew they were our brothers.” He laughed softly. “That is a tale for another time.
“For whatever reason, we had not been bothered by demonkind until shortly after making contact with Atlantis. Their world was rocked by massive upheavals, and they elected to encase themselves within a protective dimensional bubble that would allow them to continue as a civilization far beneath the sea. They exist there still, for all I know, living apart from all worlds, accessible only through the portals in the vortexes. As far as I know, they’re unaware of the current demonic uprising, though their world is at risk, should Lemuria fall.
“I was the heir of the last king of Lemuria, a position and title handed down from parent to eldest child. We had our share of queens who ruled. My grandmother was the last woman ruler. Her son, my father, took over leadership, and when he had tired of corporeal life, it was passed on to me.
“Because I was a young man, yet untried, when I took over the monarchy, I chose to lead as a king with a council of trusted advisors. I was king during the DemonWars, when we discovered that our crystal swords were the only weapon we had to effectively fight and kill demons. But after, when Lemuria was in constant upheaval with volcanic explosions and earthquakes, when our government was in turmoil with the forced move to a new world, I was taken prisoner. At the time, I had no idea my own son was behind the coup. Nor did I realize he was ruled by demonkind.”
He shook his head and fought back a great welling of sadness, but he couldn’t stop the tears from filling his eyes. “Demons have no concept of time. All these thousands of years while I have languished in a prison cell, they have worked to gain a foothold among our people. I believe demons were behind the destruction of Atlantis as well as our continent of Lemuria, and I know they are working even now to destroy this new home of ours, though this time they’re doing it from within, by taking possession of the souls of our people.
“I have no idea how many of the so-called ‘free folk’ are actually slaves to demonkind, but I am certain, just as these guardsmen have been bound by evil, many of our council members and aristocrats are bound as well. The Lemurian population is small. There are barely more than a thousand of us remaining, but if demonkind ever completely controls Lemuria, they will have found that immutable, irreversible tipping point that will finally give them what they have worked toward all along—dominion over all worlds in all dimensions.
“Earth will fall. Eden, Atlantis …” He shook his head and wiped at the tears spilling down his cheeks. “All of us will become hosts to demonkind, and life as we know it will end for all time.”
He focused on the women. “As slaves, your lives have been hell. What demons will do to our worlds will make your previous existence appear as paradise. My grandson is struggling to hold Lemurian society together, but he does not want to lead. I do, and I can. I am willing to fight this scourge, but I cannot do it without your support. Will you stand with me? Will you stand beside these men? Whether you want it or not, you carry their blood in your veins, as well as the blood of the warrior women.”
He gazed at the faces watching him, and he spoke to each woman as if she, and only she, mattered. “You were born to be warriors, not slaves. Don’t be slaves to your need for revenge. These men—these brave warriors—are ready to take up arms against our common enemy. Can you put aside your desire for revenge and focus that hatred on an enemy that will do anything possible to divide us? Even after the wrong done to you in the name of Lemuria, can you raise your swords in her defense? Not for yourselves. Not for me. For Lemuria!”
Selyn was the first one to her feet. She thrust her crystal sword into the air and shouted loud enough for her voice to echo from the cavern walls, “For Lemuria. Yes!”
One by one, and finally all together, the rest of the women, many with tears on their faces, leapt to their feet. The shout went up. The men were on their feet, with steel blades high and voices raised, and the echo of their shouted cries gave the women more power, more strength, until the stone chamber reverberated with their battle cry.
“Lemuria! Lemuria!”
Chills coursed along Artigos’s spine. He felt the energy grow and intensify, a sacred trust these women and men had just given to him. He drew DemonsBane from his scabbard and held his sword high. Each of the women drew their crystal blades. The crystals flashed with brilliant bursts of blue and silver light. The cry of “Lemuria” grew louder, taking on a rhythm all its own until it became a song powerful enough to lead an army.
Then, without warning, with cries of “Lemuria” still echoing from the cavern walls, the women surged past Artigos with their blades drawn, and raced toward the men.
Artigos shot a fearful glance at Dawson Buck. What the nine hells was happening? Were they going to kill the men after all? But Dawson was smiling and holding his blade high. Crystal fire shot from the ruby tip and flashed in blood-red streaks across the ceiling. Artigos spun around, expecting carnage, but it wasn’t that at all.
Not even close. Men and women stood in tight groups, swords held high, crystal blades caressing steel. Blue fire flashed, a blinding light that wiped away shadows until everything glowed.
Men, women, swords, all of them encased in cold, blue flames that flowed over arms, down bodies, across shoulders.
Artigos the Just sensed movement. Dawson stood beside him, just as awestruck, watching the power of crystal as it bathed the entire group of men and women, encasing them in light, and filling them with power.
Time stood still, and yet Artigos was aware of the sound of many hearts beating, the rush of blood through veins, the crisp spark of thoughts in so many minds. As if these disparate men and women were a single entity, a single life form, united at a cellular level by the power of crystal.
And he, the man known as Artigos the Just, was the breath this form drew, the strength that lifted their arms, the mind that ruled their thoughts. An unexpected, compelling burst of power filled him and gave him hope.
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