Forgotten (37 page)

“
Your healer. Fate has
allowed,” Jace said, explaining that the impossible, truly had just
happened.

He’d promised to be my healer if Fate
allowed. I’d always assumed fate was a play on word for destiny. He
believed blindly that I was a Fate sister, so was he asking
permission from me back then? He tenderly stroked my cheek; it was
like I’d just given him back his reason for living. I touched the
darkened shadow on his shoulder. He cursed when my fingertips
grazed over his wound. My fingertips slid over the mess of blood
and torn skin.

“
Why do you not heal
yourself?”

“
In time,” he said. “I have
plans for this bloody wound that Zalen has so graciously bestowed
upon me.”

“
You’ve always had a flare
for how you get your revenge,” Marco said. “Sometimes I swear you
plan them in advance. You could have dodged that spear he threw,
but you let him hit you, didn’t you?”

“
Why didn’t it disappear
the moment you touched it?” I asked, trying to figure out what had
happened.

“
The spear was aimed for
me, not anyone else,” Jace said. “If another would have touched it,
it would have disappeared. Since I was the target, it
stuck.”

Unsure of what they were talking
about, I changed subjects. I told them that there were others along
the horizon watching the events unfold.

Marco muttered, “I can’t see a
stinking thing.”

Zalen laughed. The vibrations passed
through me in an increasingly unnerving manner. It was beyond me
how anyone could laugh as his skin was charred. Marco released
Zalen, after Jace confirmed that no one could find the two people I
saw. He vanished and then reappeared on the cliff beside us. He
scanned the area and then returned.

“
Not a soul in sight,”
Marco said.

“
Whose orders were you
following, if not Analee’s?”

Zalen laughed so loudly it brought me
to my knees again. My ears rang so loudly I could hardly understand
what the others had said. Jace pounced onto Zalen, knocking them to
the ground. He gripped the Rippler’s throat and pressed down,
stopping his ability to torture me with his voice. Zalen sucked in
air and writhed on the sand. Jace refused to back down.

“
Jace!” I screamed. “Stop
strangling the man. He’s not going to be able tell us anything if
you keep him from speaking.”

“
He’s no
man
, Chronicler,” Jace
spit. “And if he wants to confess, then he can speak in our
dialect.”

Frustration poured out of
Jace’s soul when I denied my call sign. He’d been tormented by
those who attacked his beloved. I clenched my teeth tight together
and tried not to think about
her.
Deino died centuries ago, yet, I competed with her
now. I’d never live up to her. In Jace’s eyes, I’d fail to meet his
expectations. I wasn’t so sure he and the others didn’t actually
believe I was telling the truth in not knowing what they were
talking about. Marco informed me, like it humored him; Analee could
crush me, like
– where was
Analee?

I scanned the beach and almost
stumbled. Analee stood inches behind me, yet, I hadn’t heard her
approach me. Her usual blazing white shape, was still dimmed,
especially over her chest where she was wounded. She wheezed with
every intake of air. The spear must have been close to her lungs.
She should have been dead.

Jace must have saved her life when he
pressed his hand over her wound. Her slave girls curled around her
feet. Analee clenched her fist. Zalen coughed like someone was
strangling him. I didn’t have to know that her golden-eyes turned
black to know what she was doing. She didn’t want answers; she
sought revenge for his treachery. I screamed for her to
stop.

“
Fine, we’ll play by your
rules.” Analee released her death grip. “The Chronicler is giving
you a chance at redemption when I’d rather watch you die; so humor
her, or we’ll end your pathetic life.”

“
I thought you were
immortal, only to die by an immortal weapon?” I said.

“
That’s how Hunters kill
us,” Marco said.

“
But we can kill each
other,” Zalen corrected. A dark liquid seeped from his lips.
“
Can’t we, Jace
?
Does the Chronicler not recall your final betrayal?”

Jace didn’t bother with a reply. He
merely placed his hands over his shoulder where the spear had been;
the wound’s shadow on Jace’s otherwise bright silhouette
brightened. It shrank until there was no evidence of damage. I
touched his shoulder in the same spot where his wound had been.
Nothing. His skin was smooth.

“
Cookie, you may want to
step away,” Marco said. “Jace is patient, but he enjoys this part
of the fight the best.”

“
What part?” I asked,
stepping away as Jace’s excitement mixed with my
feelings.

“
His revenge,” Marco
stated, plainly.

Jace placed his hand on Zalen’s chest,
directly over his heart. The wound that was on Jace’s shoulder grew
on Zalen’s chest. Zalen’s white orb started to fade. Dark liquid
began to bubble up through his clothing. It wasn’t long before it
spewed from his chest. Fire grew up into an inferno around Jace;
pure hatred flickered with each flame.

“
You’ll die by the damage
your spear caused me,” Jace said.

The pleasure he took, in ending the
traitor’s life, shook me. How could revenge rule someone’s life
like Jace had allowed. Sensing my objection, Jace raised his chin
and looked at me. I couldn’t see the color of his eyes or his
facial express. However, I felt his raw-power creep over me. My
legs barely held me as I welcomed his fiery wrath.

“
Love. Hate. Forgiveness.
Vengeance. To truly live in every moment is divine,” Jace said like
no one around us existed. His passion would devour me if I gave
into his demand, just as his hate could consume him as well; he
wanted me, but he’d wait for me to admit the same. I knew in that
moment, if he couldn’t have me, hate would eat at his
soul.

“
Which is why you’ve spent
the last countless centuries wallowing in grief, Jace,” Analee
said. “Was that
divine
?”

“
Sorrow amplifies bliss,”
he responded to Analee, but never looked away from me. “You can’t
truly experience one to its fullest potential without surviving the
other. You can’t experience love without understanding
hate.”

Looking down at Zalen, Analee asked,
“Why would you betray me?”

“
The Butcher is a
visionary. I welcome death in serving him,” Zalen muttered.
“Whether I sacrifice my own life to extend his, or the scavengers
take it from me today - Either way, my master wins. He wanted to
know if Gwyneth was truly the Chronicler and if she still possessed
enough power to grant what he most desires. You all played right
into his plan.”

“
Gwyneth is pathetic and
weak,” Analee said.

“
You said the Chronicler
was pathetic and weak centuries ago.” Zalen started to laugh, but
the blood pooling in his throat stifled his laugh. “There are times
when she smells like us; we’ve all caught our scent on her. But
more importantly, there are times when she smells like her sisters;
it’s undeniable.”

I felt everyone’s eyes on me, seeking
an explanation. “My visions,” I said, thinking out loud. “You sense
them?”

“
Visions?” Jace
questioned.

“
Of the future,” I said,
and then immediately knew I’d said too much. Marco pointed out the
Prophet saw the future; it wasn’t a talent of mine. It didn’t make
sense. They said the Chronicler saw the past.

“
She’s weak without the
Cutter and Prophet, but Gwyneth truly is the unseeing Fate,” Zalen
said. “No deity has been born in centuries. She finally fulfilled
the Healer’s request to be reborn.”

I wanted to ask about Lily – how the
Butcher grew young after killing her, if I’d been the only deity to
be born in years, but the ground began to tremble.

It shook more ferociously, with each
weakening breath Zalen took. It opened up upon the Rippler’s last
breath, as if the Earth itself meant to swallow the deity. Marco
shifted behind Analee and mumbled that he didn’t want the dirt
crawler to take the wrong shifter.

A starved, mouthless corpse crawled
from the ground. Even though my world was still blurred, I could
see every detail of the Scavenger. Bruises and cut marks littered
its body as it crawled on top of the soil. The Scavenger screamed
soundlessly at Analee when it finally surfaced.

Smoke filled the room. I
coughed. I was the only one who made a noise even though I could
feel vibrations roll across the floor. I felt it ripple through the
air but only saw the shimmer of the blade before I was pushed
aside. A young man with dark brown hair grunted as if he was
startled. A silver spear stuck out of the charred leg. Smoke
blocked out everything else in sight.

The man gripped the spear
to pull it out, when it disappeared. He applied pressure over the
wound on his leg with his hand. A scar on his thumb danced like a
thread the moment my pinky brushed against it.

“
Next time, I go alone,”
he groaned. “The Rippler is guarding them, making sure you don’t
find them.”

“
They’re still a part of
me,” I said. “I need to know her plan for them. The Prophet said
our younger sister is going to be busy cutting as soon as Analee
figures out how to command the Scavengers.”

My skin was smooth and
youthful, just like his, as I cupped his face in my hands. I
brushed back his dark brown hair that fell over his chocolate-brown
eyes. Flecks of gold shimmered in them even though dirt clung to
his hair, like he took a shower in mud. Smoke filled the edges of
my sight as dawn broke. I thanked my sister for not cutting his
thread when he searched the Master’s cave looking for the lost
parts of my soul – my Scavengers. I didn’t fight his touch as he
traced his dirty finger over my hand. I craved it.

“
Did you uncover their
orders?” I asked.

“
Anyone who utters their
name will greet death.”

“
They rise as death’s
henchmen, disregarding forgotten memories only to collect the
dead,” I recited the last part of the vision, as it faded
away.

The Scavenger glanced at the dying man
before turning its attention back to me. It took my hand and
brought it up to where its mouth would be, and spoke in my mind. It
recited a phrase over and over in my mind, begging me to remember
it. I nodded, hoping one day I could not only understand but
fulfill its request, whatever it was. Once my pinky finger rubbed
against its coarse skin, a part of the Scavenger’s soul, connected
to mine.

Its starved body was
bruised and beaten as it crawled out of the dried ground. Every
vein, blood vessel, and artery pulsating deep purple, showed on its
hairless head. Its translucent skin was pulled tight, especially
over the joints. It smelled clean and crisp like the sea, even
though the few shreds of clothing covering it were stained. The
sewn marks kept him from whispering of the unspeakable past. Empty
hollowed holes were where the eyes should have been.

It walked to me. Instead
of running, I opened my arms to embrace it. Its ghostly skin was
razor sharp but never cut me. It brought my hand to its mouthless
face. When my smallest finger brushed against its coarse lips, I
felt at home again. The walking corpse wiped a fleeting tear from
my eye. In my mind, I heard it speak in a mysterious language. Even
though I didn’t understand it, a sense of immense sorrow washed
over me when it released my hand and turned its back to me. I
trembled as I watched it sink into the dirt.

It’d been stolen from me,
by the fallen angel.

The Scavenger covered my eyes with its
fingers. When it removed its hand, my world was no longer a blur of
gray. I couldn’t speak, move, or even blink as I marveled at the
splendor around me. Dimension. Depth. Color. I could see every
line, wrinkle, nail, and every strand of hair. I saw absolutely
everything.

Standing next to two beautiful, icy
young girls, was a gorgeous woman, a fallen angel. She was the same
beautiful blond woman with the golden eyes, who held me captive in
a coffin, stood next to her young slaves. Analee.

The giant red-headed man stood behind
her. The intelligence shining through his green eyes contradicted
the stereotype that he was just another hunk of muscle and no
brains. Marco.

Standing alone was a
guilt-ridden man on fire. Taking a deep breath, I blinked and
suddenly found myself gazing into the chocolate-brown eyes that
held a sense of exquisiteness I couldn’t describe. His jaw was as I
pictured, ridged from not recently shaving. His eyelashes extended
long and full, framing his perfect dark eyes. Gold was woven
through his
dark hair. It flung haphazardly
over his face, hiding the markings of a jagged scar trailing across
his cheek bone. I saw every vein, every muscle in the arms that I’d
let myself melt into. I saw the lips that made mine swollen. Blue
flames whirled from his shoulders, like they had when he promised
to heal my mortal wounds since I was no longer ageless.