Dark World (Book I in the Dark World Trilogy) (26 page)

Sure, one could argue that a world
buried in darkness twenty-four hours a day could be considered
forever nighttime, but no one explained that to the death worms.
They had their own schedule. Their own agenda—and right now, it was
Kane.

The ground split behind him, a four
foot wide fissure chased him as though he were running on thin ice,
cracking with every step. He pushed his body as hard as it would
go. Wings flailing uselessly behind him, he pumped his arms and
legs, praying he could make it to the shelter of the Crystalline
Forest with its floor of solid marble. The death worms couldn’t
penetrate that ground, he’d be safe. If he could get there in time.
Even though he could see the outline of the trees, it was still so
far away.

Amidst the roar of the fissure nipping
at his heels, Kane heard the frenzied howl of the death worm,
followed by the sound he’d been dreading: the call for assistance.
An announcement to nearby death worms that there was fresh meat to
be had.

A low, eerie wail resonated through the
soils beneath him, not unlike the Surface stories he’d read about
whales in the ocean sending messages over great distances with
echolocation.

The pack of supplies on his one
shoulder, sword on the other, jostled violently on his back. He
considered tossing the pack, but couldn’t bear to think how he’d
survive even one night without it, especially because it contained
his supply of bloodstone for the entire journey.

“
Move, Kane, move!”
he ordered
himself.

He grunted, trying to force his body
faster, but was greeted with a growing fatigue. This was how the
death worms usually got their prey. It was a sport for them, to
play with their food until it simply collapsed from
exhaustion.

Kane wondered if anyone had ever really
seen a death worm up close—and survived. The colossal beasts
wouldn’t break through the surface until the last moment. When they
had their victim exactly where they wanted, they’d scooped them up
from below. Swallowed whole. The victim never knew what hit
them.

Kane wondered how close that moment
was. He’d never known anyone to outrun a death worm. Once the hunt
was on, it was certain death.

Lethargy seeped into his leg muscles.
His lips curled into a snarl. If he wanted to live, he was going to
have to fight. He reached back, drawing the diamond blade from its
bed.

In the distance, he saw sprays of sand
spewing into the air. He counted at least six. Six more death
worms.

Nice.

There was no way out of this. His pride
and selfishness had sealed his fate. He’d disgraced his father.
He’d orphaned Ever. And he’d lost the opportunity to see Fate
again. To tell her how he really felt.

It was hopeless. He slowed his pace.
He’d still fight, but there was no way he could defeat so
many.

Closing his eyes, he filled his heart
with courage. He’d go down fighting. He’d make this one last battle
worth dying for.

His thoughts flickered to the fight
with the wraiths. What was that new and mysterious weapon he’d used
against them? He’d never known power without the Crystal Pyramid
nor bloodstone. Where had it come from? How could he summon it? He
could certainly use it right now.

A low growl built in the back of his
throat and with his hand gripped tight around the hilt of his
blade, he stopped running.

Kane spun around, swinging his sword
forcefully, anticipating as a monstrous head broke through the arid
sands. His blade narrowly missed the beast’s snout while blocks of
encrusted earth flew in all directions.

After shielding himself from chunks of
airborn debris, Kane gawked at the fiend hovering hundreds of feet
above him.

Limbless and eyeless, the ashen death
worm had millions of tiny hairs covering its lengthy body, over
half of which were still underground. Its mouth was a gaping
circular hole with endless bands of shark-like teeth that began at
its lips and continued deep into its throat. A single suckered
tongue flicked in and out as if tasting the air. Searching for its
supper.

Kane was awestruck. Fear was
momentarily thrust aside as he observed the monstrosity. He knew
they were fabled to be big and fearsome, but this was
inconceivable.

The towering worm roared, signaling its
attack. Bringing its head down like a hammer, it slammed the full
weight of its upper body just inches from Kane. Moving out of its
way, Kane turned a confused eye at the beast. Why didn’t it just
take him?

Again the creature brought its head
down full force, narrowly missing the demon. Perplexed, Kane soon
realized the worm’s disadvantage: it couldn’t detect him unless he
moved. That’s what all the little hairs were for. Sensing
vibration.

Kane nearly chuckled with his
discovery, but the laugh caught in his throat when he witnessed two
more fissures arrive. The twin death worms emerged from beneath the
surface, raising their heads high above Kane, slurping scents in
the air with their long tongues.

Strangely, he didn’t feel as frightened
as he thought he might be. Or should. Now that he knew they
couldn’t find him unless he moved, he was determined he could
outsmart them by remaining still.

A stalemate hung in the air. The death
worms wavered like undulating cobras. Waiting for the perfect
moment to strike. Waiting for a microscopic movement from
Kane.

The other four arrived, creating havoc
with the dry sands as the ground split apart, ushering them into
the open air.

All seven now surrounded Kane. He
didn’t dare breathe. Didn’t dare move a muscle. He had no idea how
receptive their senses were. It even worried him to
blink.

“
Maybe if I stay still long
enough, they’ll give up.”

It was the only plan he had and it
seemed to be working—until a single bead of sweat fell from his
brow.

The Destroyer

One tiny spot of perspiration. A single
teardrop fallen from his forehead speckled the parched desert
floor. It may as well have been a clap of thunder for the reaction
it induced.

The seven beasts encircling him
responded like a shiver of sharks: quick,
instinctive—blood-thirsty. As if spring-loaded, their great necks
snapped forward, plunging onto his location. Great craters formed
with each impact, dirt and debris sprayed chaotically. Kane leapt
out of the way, each time narrowly escaping becoming demon
purée.

He swung his sword with wild vehemence,
striking the death worms as they attacked, but their thick outer
skin was too tough for his sword to penetrate. He was running out
of time. Sooner or later, one of them was bound to crush him with
its massive head, or worse, he’d wind up inside a tunnel of
teeth.

I have to get out of here!
But how?

He studied the landscape, but there was
nothing. No mountains nearby. No boulders. Nothing.

He again cursed his flightless wings,
then his mother for impairing the use of them.

Kane ground his teeth hard enough to
crack them. This was no time for self-sympathy. He was a warrior,
and he had to get out of this. Now.

His thoughts flashed to the fight in
Cryptica. A power like he’d never known had run through his blood.
A dark and unmatched source of black magic. Where had it come from?
And more importantly, how could he tap into it now?

He searched his soul. Where would it
hide? Where in his subconscious did it rest, waiting to be
discovered?

He knew the answer.

Fate.

She’s what inspired the power that day.
The thought of her being hurt, or worse, killed, had given him some
otherworldly power.

Kane would have to summon the energy
he’d used to save her—to save himself.

A growing pain swelled in her chest
with every step they took from the Crystalline Forest. It seemed
that Ick was gone for good. Vale had waited patiently while Fate
searched, scouring the length of every tree and behind every
boulder. He was just—gone.

Vale swore he hadn’t harmed her little
gargoyle. He’d even admitted he was surprised at Ick’s proficiency
at eluding him.

Deep down, Fate knew he was still out
there. Somewhere.

“
So, tell me about
Necrosia,” Fate asked, trying to keep her mind off her missing
gargoyle.

“
It’s the biggest city in
the realm,” Vale boasted. “We have over six thousand
citizens.”

She nodded, feigning excitement when,
in reality, her stomach was winding into knots. “What race are
they?” She hoped none of them were wraiths.

“
Mostly necromancers, oh,
and a few shades. They’re against Malus. Part of the rebellion, so
my master welcomes them,” he responded casually.

She shuddered at the word shades.
Ironically, she was more frightened of meeting her own kind than an
unknown species. Mostly because everyone in the realm was so
fearful of shades. There had to be good reason for their fears and
Fate wasn’t sure she wanted to find out why.

“
Necromancers?” she queried,
mostly in attempts to steer the conversation away from
shades.

“
Yes,” he answered, “a very
powerful…very secretive…race.”

“
Oh,” she said, feeling less
than certain about this journey.

“
And that’s what your master
is?”

He nodded, his posture confident as
they walked over an open stretch of the desert. Fate examined him
through scrutinizing eyes for a moment, comparing him to
Kane.

Vale was rough around the edges. He had
an air of danger and mischief. His disheveled silver hair gave him
the preverbal bad-boy image. Black jacket and leather pants, he was
like an otherworld biker. He left her with a sense of spontaneity,
excitement.

Kane on the other hand was regal,
though sad and radiating with internal scars. His pain was
palpable. Tangible. Yet his kindness and quiet intellect had
tattooed an unnamed emotion on her. She was drawn to him like
gravity. Tethered.

She lowered her eyes, replaying the
moment he’d hurt her to the core. The distrust in his eyes. He had
every right, really, what with her insatiable need for souls. There
was always this lingering lust watching from the dark corners of
her core. Frankly, she didn’t even trust herself most of the
time.

She recalled the meeting with the
shaman, wondering if he’d found a way to keep her hunger at
bay.

If I hadn’t left so
abruptly
, she
thought, then stopped herself. She had no choice. She had to leave.
The demons didn’t want her there. Kane didn’t want her
there.

Vale nudged her arm playfully, shaking
her from her quiet contemplations. “You’ll be blown away when you
see it. It’s really quite impressive.” He grinned at her, though
the twinkle of playfulness didn’t quite reach his eyes. Shadows of
trepidation loitered behind those glowing, silver
spheres.

What is he hiding?
Fate wondered as
anxiety nestled inside. She then asked, “How far is the city from
here?”

“
Three day’s walk,” he
replied distractedly, suddenly very interested in something
overhead.

She turned her face upward, dark mists
swirled in the distance, overshadowing the dangling rock icicles
that lidded them from the Surface. As though it had a conscience
all its own, it devoured any light in its midst.

The storm cloud rolled, its purple and
black billows bruised and growling as though announcing vengeance
for a lost battle. Claws of blood red lightning veined throughout
the rapidly growing nimbus whilst furious winds churned and twisted
within the center. A metallic odor overwhelmed the air, smothering
the atmosphere.

Her sense of smell triggered a memory
from the Surface. The scent of humidity hanging in the air, clouds
clinging to the darkened skies, pregnant with precipitation, just
waiting to release their tears upon the earth. That odor. She’d
know it anywhere. The calm before the storm. The aroma of
rain.

Only this was suffocating. Her undead
lungs contracted defensively, rebelling against the repressive
air.

“
What is this?” she forced
her voice around the atmospheric vice.

“
We must hurry,” Vale said
suddenly, his brows lowered in concern as he eyed the angry skies.
“A…tempest is blowing in.”

“
A tempest?” Fate repeated
as a fierce wind raked her silver hair.

He nodded though didn’t offer further
explanation. Taking her hand, he pulled her to a family of giant
mushrooms ahead.

“
We should be safe under
here.”

Spark peeped nervously, tightening his
tiny grip on her shoulder.

“
It’s okay,” she whispered
to the little bird, but from the look on Vale’s face, she wasn’t so
sure.

“
What is it?” Fate
demanded.

Ignoring her, he yanked her to the
center of the fungal forest, kneeling behind one of the largest.
She reluctantly followed suit, annoyed that he wasn’t explaining.
Why were they hiding from this storm? It couldn’t see them—could
it?