Descent (41 page)

Nobody could go more than a moment without wondering where Jane and Fern were, and what they were doing. Anna was praying with everything she had that the two of them were doing something to fix this mess.

‘Where’s Altor?’ Elixia asked suddenly, surprising Anna.

Satine looked at Elixia morosely. ‘I haven’t seen him in hours,’ she whispered. ‘I have no idea...’

‘He went with Jane and Fern, I think,’ Harry offered over his shoulder. Neither woman seemed comforted by this.

‘Okay?’ Anna heard Tzenna whisper into Luca’s ear. He nodded and gave her a shaky smile, then turned and rested his hand on Anna’s knee. Anna’s eyes prickled—this was the old Luca, the one who looked after his friends.

A shaft of sunlight rested on the rug by Anna’s feet and she watched as it slowly began to recede, creeping back across the room towards the window from which it came. It would soon be night once more. Only this time, they had no protection.

‘Stuff this!’ she said, jumping to her feet and then regretting it as the blood rushing to her head made her dizzy. ‘What are we doing sitting here? We should be getting ready!’

‘Ready for what?’ Ria asked.

‘To fight!’ She spread her hands. More softly, she murmured, ‘Honestly, guys. How could we not?’

Those who had been seated rose to their feet. Harry grinned from where he stood next to the fire, a wolfish, excited grin. His hand moved unconsciously to the bow strapped to his back.

Anna turned to Locktar who hadn’t moved the entire time. His face was expressionless, his red eyes glowing. A problem had occurred to her. For the last two years, all she’d ever known was how to attack the beasts while flying among them.

‘Can you change back?’ she asked Locktar as the others began to prepare.

He stared unwaveringly into her eyes. Then he said, his voice deep and rasping, ‘I don’t know.’

By the time they were all armed and standing on the roof of the palace, the sun has almost set. It cast a beautiful glow over the ocean.

Suddenly the air changed. There was a prickle, like static electricity on their skin.

‘Here they come.’

Luca dropped behind the others as they made their way up the stairs. He was having trouble breathing. His mind was being pounded by thoughts and there was a mess of emotions inside him. He reached a shaking hand out and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes.

‘You’re fine,’ a soft voice said in his ear and he turned to look at Tzenna. She was staring at him without an ounce of sympathy in her stony gaze. ‘You’re fine,’ she repeated calmly.

Luca shook his head. ‘I don’t think I can do this. I need to go back to my room.’

‘No.’

He stared at her.

‘There is no way in the world that you are going to walk away from your friends and hide in your room like a coward,’ she said firmly. ‘You’re going up to the roof with me, with the people you love, and you’re going to help us fight. Understood?’

Luca was unable to take his eyes away from hers. He simply nodded, and took her hand as she led him to the roof. It seemed only an instant later that they watched the shadows descend on top of them.

Lights flooded the hall, blinding them for a good moment. When their eyes had adjusted to the sudden brightness, they managed to look around them.

They were still in the hall. But this time there was something on the ground. Something wet. Liquid was up to their ankles.

‘What is that?’ Jane asked, peering down.

Fern was frozen still, his face very pale.

‘It’s blood,’ he whispered.

Jane gasped as the potent, heavy stench of steel permeated her nostrils, overtaking her senses. She coughed with revulsion, trying to pull air into her lungs that didn’t reek of blood.

‘Oh my god. That’s
so gross!
’

‘Don’t think about it,’ Fern told her firmly, pulling her forward. ‘Just keep moving. It’s water. Think of it as water.’

But the level of it was steadily rising. Soon it was up to their knees, and then their thighs.

‘Oh, Jesus,’ Jane whispered. She stopped walking because she’d started to gag. It was just so disgustingly thick. And the smell—she’d never experienced anything worse.

‘Where’s it coming from?’ she muttered, her eyes watering. Now it was up to her waist. ‘Uhg! Should we be trying to stop this?’

‘How?’ he snapped, holding his nose and staring at the ceiling.

‘I don’t know! Ew!’ she replied shrilly. ‘But we have to do something.’ The blood rose up to her chest. They were holding their arms up high so as not to get their hands wet, but Jane slipped and fell into the ocean of blood. Fern wrenched her straight again, as she coughed and spluttered and tried to spit it out of her mouth.

‘Oh my god!’ she shouted, frantically wiping her face. ‘Yuck, yuck, yuck! This is the most disgusting thing ever!’ Jane realised she was too short to keep walking, and that she had to start swimming through the blood.
Fern waded forward, pulling her along with him. ‘I think I’m going to be sick,’ she moaned. ‘I can taste it!’

It was up to his neck now. And then it was higher than that, and they were both treading, trying to keep their faces aloft. She assumed since they couldn’t see the roof they had time to keep swimming, but suddenly, without warning, Jane’s legs felt heavy, leaden down with weight, and she was no longer able to move her arms. She sank into the ocean of blood, no time to even take a breath.

She couldn’t open her eyes—it was too thick to see through and would have burned. But she knew Fern was with her, because their grip on each other’s hands was like iron.

And it occurred to her what this was. Whose blood this was. It belonged to all the people of Paragor that she had failed to save, all the men and women who had died, first in the war against Leostrial, and then, for the last two years, at the hands of the evil creatures. And so too did all the blood belong to the future victims of the Scourge. All the lives that lay in Jane and Fern’s hands.

If she could have screamed she would have, because finally she realised that this was it—this was her worst fear, and it was how she was going to die. After everything that had happened, she was going to drown in a pool of blood that wasn’t even real.

The thought was like a shot of adrenalin, snapping her awake—
it’s not real!

Jane clenched her jaw, and then she opened her eyes. She looked at Fern, because she simply assumed she would be able to. And then she opened her mouth, and even though it should have killed, it didn’t, because Jane knew that if she willed it to be so, she could breathe. She could decide.

‘Fern!’ she said. He heard her, his body stiffening. ‘Just breathe, Fern,’ she said calmly. ‘There’s no blood. You can open your eyes, and take a breath. Trust me.’

And so he opened his eyes.

‘What?’ he gasped, treading calmly, breathing in and out. And then suddenly they were standing on the floor again in a completely dry room, no trace of blood anywhere on their bodies.

‘It was all an illusion,’ she said. He gave her a quick hug, but already they were in the next place, the next part of their nightmare.

They were standing in a smaller room, its walls made of canvas. The light was dim, for the sun was setting outside. Looking out through the open flap they could see an intense jungle, reaching high into the sky and covering them in a mist of humidity. Jane gasped, realising they were high up in the trees.

‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, looking at a huge red bird perched on a nearby branch. Massive yellow flowers were scattered around and in the distance, through a gap in the trees, they could faintly see a mighty waterfall.

‘Where are we?’ she whispered.

‘I think we’re in Frescana,’ Fern replied. ‘The Amazonian women live in the trees.’

Just then two people entered the room. Fern and Jane tensed, but neither person paid them any attention, and carried on as though they weren’t there.

The lady was very tall, with bright, blonde hair—clearly an Amazonian, and perhaps a royal one by her attire and jewellery. The man looked plainer, but had an air of regality that both Jane and Fern recognised. He was tall and dark-haired, with blue eyes and an easy confidence about him. There was something strangely familiar to Jane about his face. Like she might have seen it before but couldn’t figure out when.

Jane looked at Fern and he shrugged. ‘I don’t think they can see us,’ he said softly, and sure enough, neither person gave any hint that he had been heard.

The woman was busy pouring wine, and it wasn’t hard to see that she was increasingly anxious. The man only stared at her, marking every one of her movements, and Jane could see clear devotion in his eyes.

‘I am breaking many laws by allowing you here,’ the woman said smoothly, hiding her discomfort well.

‘You aren’t allowed men in your rooms?’ he asked, taking a sip.

‘Not in royal rooms. We can meet with whomever we want anywhere else, but our personal rooms are sacred to our femininity,’ she replied.

‘Then why am I here?’ he asked, eyebrows raised.

‘Because you followed me.’

‘Surely all that skill you have just displayed could be put to proper use? Why not force me to leave?’

‘Because you are a guest at the fortress, and have given me lessons for the past few weeks. It would not be fitting to be rude,’ she said, turning away. He sighed and put his glass down.

‘Liessen,’ he said softly. ‘Why lie?’

Fern gasped and Jane tried to think where she had heard that name before. ‘Satine’s mother,’ he whispered and Jane’s eyes widened.

‘I didn’t know she was an Amazonian!’

‘Nor did I,’ Fern replied and went back to watching the pair.

‘How dare you accuse me of such things, Altor?’ Liessen replied.

‘Satine’s father,’ Fern said, understanding now. Jane nodded, realising why the man was so familiar—he looked just like his grandson, a boy who had been named after him.

‘Listen to me,’ Altor ordered suddenly and Liessen’s eyes snapped back to him. ‘I leave on the morrow and it will be a long time before I return. Is that what you want?’

‘What else am I supposed to want?’ she asked and Jane wondered why she would say such things when it was clear that this was the last thing she desired.

They watched as the pair threw barbs back and forth. Their attachment was obvious—neither wanted to part, but neither was willing to say how they felt.

But eventually Liessen and Altor admitted their love and fell into each other’s arms. Then the scene dissolved and they were standing in the huge cavern again.

‘What was that?’ Jane asked.

‘I have no idea. Do you think it really happened?’

‘I suppose so, but why did we see it?’

They both frowned as they thought about the scene they had just witnessed. It didn’t seem to have much weight now that Altor was dead. Except that it was very sad. Jane couldn’t stop thinking about how badly Liessen must have suffered when he died.

‘She must have left with him,’ Fern mused. ‘And she never told anyone who she was.’

An instant later and they were standing in a different room again—this time they were in the tower of a stone castle, and it was neither beautiful nor calm. Screams could be heard from all around them. In the middle of the room were three people. Jane felt tears spring to her eyes as she realised what they were watching. King Altor lay on the ground with several thick spears protruding from his chest. His wife was next to him, holding his hand, and his head lay in the lap of a young boy. Accolon. Jane felt her tears fall as she watched Altor die, and she couldn’t help but think of his grandson, who had been born into a family wracked with such loss.

Soon they were back in the mighty hall, silence around them once more.

Jane wiped her eyes, unable to rid herself of the weight of sadness. ‘He was so young—what a waste.’

Fern nodded wearily. ‘Lapis Matyr was a good place when he was king.’

They started to walk again. But they had only taken a few steps before the cavern disappeared and they were standing somewhere else entirely.

This time their surroundings were not evident. Two women stood in front of them. One was Fern’s mother, Liensenne, the tall and beautiful Elvish Queen. The other was a woman Jane had never seen. Short and curvaceous, with a plain face and long brown hair.

The women stared at each other.

‘Don’t do this,’ the short woman said. ‘Nothing is worth such deaths.’

‘Exactly,’ the queen said icily. ‘So you will save them, thus making my plan ring true.’

The short woman looked at Liensenne, heartbreaking sadness in her eyes. ‘Yes,’ she said slowly. ‘I will save them, because I love them more than I could love anything. But I feel pity for you, because you have obviously never known such love.’

The tall woman did not reply, but her face twisted into ugly fury. Then the two women were gone, and Jane and Fern were looking at two other people. King Cornelius, and Princess Elixia when she was about eight years old.

They were talking and laughing softly, but suddenly, and for no apparent reason, they both slumped into their chairs, and Jane and Fern knew that they were dead, killed by some twist of Elvish magic.

Fern gasped and he went forward as if to touch them, but Jane held onto his arm and pulled him back.

The scene changed again.

Before them was a pit of blackness so deep and penetrating that its reaches were impossible to fathom. And all that came from its depths was a feeling of overwhelming loss.

Two bodies floated past them and into the frightening depth. It was Elixia and her father, and they sank down quickly, looking vague and confused. Fern cried out, but he was completely unheard.

From above another body came, but this one was making its way purposefully down, as though swimming with utter desperation. It was the small woman they had seen before, and she moved through the emptiness with a certainty that spoke of experience.

When she reached the two bodies she grabbed both by the arms and began to rise with them. The load was terribly heavy, and she didn’t look strong enough. Her face crinkled, all colour draining from it.

‘Come on,’ Jane whispered without meaning to. The woman began to sink down under the weight and Fern groaned. But her face took on new determination and she surged up through the blackness, seeking the light that came from above with a desperation born of love.