Illusion (15 page)

Teeth gritted, she battered at him, shoved until his shouts stopped hurting her head. And then his bellows echoed in the darkness, disappearing to nothing. Silence. A stab of anguish doubled her over. She’d started to care for him, thought they might work out their differences. But underneath it all, she’d known he couldn’t be trusted. Why hadn’t she listened to her own doubts? Because she was a fool, always thinking people would prove themselves better than she expected them to be.

Ahead, faint iridescent patterns shifted, cycling through a splendid range of peacock colors. But she barely noticed. Her heart ached with disappointment and raw misery. She spun in endless nothingness and reached out, touching an aqua band with the tip of her fingers.

Power surged and spat her out into a bright world. The ground rushed at her and she fell, face-first into white ash.

City of Rock

Maya crouched on the ground, aiming for one solid breath but panting instead. She hated the bastard. Battered and worn, she hit the dirt with her fist. One glimpse of the world told her she sat on a small, scrubby plateau that fell to a vertical drop. Shrubs, wildflowers, and vines sprouted from crystallized rocks. The headland teemed with insects, but there were no humans in sight. In the distance, rolling waves pounded the coast, drenching huge boulders and a small beach. Several miles of inaccessible cliff swept along a jagged coastline. And largest of all, so close she imagined she might reach out and touch it, perched a huge moon, semitransparent and dimpled with dark shadows, taking up at least a tenth of the sky.

Her hands hurt where they gripped her knees. After a moment, she rose to her feet and stared at that huge moon. Her vision buckled into a kaleidoscope of colors with blackened curved edges, and she staggered, falling to her backside. She rested her head in her hands, the harsh sun stinging her exposed neck.

“There you have it. You’ve crossed realms and ended up on your ass again,” she muttered.

The shaky sound of her voice competed with the intermittent boom of waves. She held her head, the whirl and pressure of the jump forcing her ears to pop. Red stains bloomed in front of her filmy vision. Something dropped out of her nose and a ruby circle sank into the white powder. Pinching the bridge, she tilted her head back, closing her eyes against the cruel rays of the sun, and tasting blood on the back of her tongue. At least she’d escaped the darkness—for a while there that infinite space had carried a terrifying bottom line that screamed
you’re totally fucked.

Oh, Jane!

Maya clutched her stomach and gasped, bending over. Tears leaked out of her eyes and dripped into the ash, turning it pewter. Her best friend was gone, and it was Maya’s fault for getting her mixed up in this nightmare. What a lousy friend she’d been.

If this was Balkaith, maybe the witches could return Jane from the afterlife? Her shoulders slumped in defeat. The idea was ridiculous, and foul too. She imagined Jane, her wide, purple mouth laughing. Tears ran down Maya’s neck and she let them fall, hunching her shoulders against the tightness in her throat.

Her soul felt thin, like the times before the bad entities struck. The thought scared her and she wiped her face on her wool coat, smearing it with a mix of tears and bloody gunk.

Tufts of gray-green grass pushed through the dirt, rustling in the humid breeze. The place smelled of exotic spices, steamy air, and the repulsive, rotten stench of some decaying animal. Shade fell across her body. A plant swayed above her at the very edge of the circle. A cluster of translucent amber rocks hugged the roots of a huge magenta flower. It twitched in the wind, roughly her height, shaped like an hourglass but with a vermilion throat filled with rows of sharp thorns. The plant stretched forward on its thin stem, and Maya flinched, automatically raising trembling hands. The plant closed its throat and opened it again, and a viscous fluid dropped on her leg.

Maya rolled away and gave the plant a wary glance. It was drooling. She pushed herself to unsteady feet and dusted her hands of the unsavory mess clinging to her palms. Horned beetles the same color as the flower crawled over the odd plant. Fat striped snakes writhed in low puddles.

Her heart beat fast as she squinted up at the extravagant moon sitting in a powder-blue sky. She dabbed her nose with her hand. It came away wet with blood, ash, and God only knew what else. She patted herself down, the movements uncertain and unsteady, her center of balance off. His smell surrounded her, and she scrubbed her mouth on one hand to remove the taste.

The irony of landing in this world without him hit, but she refused to think how he must be laughing at her.

Off to the left, a long peninsula clawed its way out into the blue-black ocean. At the end of the bluff, two white crenulated towers basked in the sun, surrounded by colossal stone walls.

Closer to where she stood, the headland curved and rose sharply. A coal-black promontory fort lay around seven or eight hundred feet above, facing the sea. To the far right two more towers—black this time—marked the end of the castle walls. Her head spun with vertigo and she swayed, almost spilling back into the ash.

Craning her neck, she followed the sheer rock formation that continued beyond the fort until it disappeared into white cirrus clouds far above.

“Well,” she said softly. She held her hand on her chest, suddenly fearful the whole lot would come crumbling down on her head.

Strange birds screamed far off, a lonely sound. The smell of brine and seaweed flooded her lungs and she shuffled outside the circle, looking for a path and, even though she didn’t want to admit it, for Resh.

She frowned. Where was he?

“He saved you from the Khereb and bought a truckload of trouble for bringing you back. Look what you’ve done in return,” a small voice said.

“He’ll be fine. The asshole can survive anything,” she retorted.

“What about the poison in him?”

Damn, her conscience was pissing her off. Except it wasn’t her voice. Something black fluttered just out of her field of vision and she jumped in shock.

“Pia?”

The raven flapped its wings and tried to alight on her shoulder.

“No. Gaai. You’re a foul-mouthed creature. If I hadn’t found you in the Abyss, you’d still be there,” the raven said in a high-pitched, throaty voice and dropped to the ground near Maya’s feet. It hopped once, scrambling over rocks, heading for the flower. The raven jumped on the crystal and cawed, fluffing its throat feathers so they looked long and spiky.

Maya’s shut her mouth with a click of teeth. “I didn’t know you could talk.”

“Earth’s powers are diluted from the wars. We couldn’t talk in that atrocious pigsty.” The bird dodged the snapping plant and whipped its head around, ducking its sharp beak down the flower’s throat. With an ugly squeal, some horrid pink flesh ripped free. The raven tossed it back as if it were a tasty hors d’oeuvre.

The plant trembled and gnashed saw-like teeth.

Maya recoiled in distaste. If possible, the smell worsened. “Where’s Resh?”

“Where you left him. In the Abyss. You need to find Alexandr, and fast. The Tribune must bring Resheph back and the poison gives them little time.” The bird stared at her, unblinking, and skipped over the stabbing plant without glancing in its direction.

“I had no idea … damn him. If he’s such a hero, why can’t he find his own way back?” But the words sounded flat and hollow. “Is Alexandr up there?” She gestured with her head to the fort.

The bird nodded at an overgrown trail, no wider than Maya’s shoulders. “Get ready for a climb.”

“Isn’t there another way?” She pulled off her coat and stuffed in into her bag.

“The arch-warlocks don’t leave the fortress. We’re outside the towers. You’ll have to climb part of the way.”

“Right.” But her voice broke, ending on an off-key note, sounding lost in her own ears. She looked up at the thin, black path weaving up the rock face. The coppery taste of blood sat on her tongue, and her head felt gripped hard by a too-tight rubber band. She hated heights.

* * * *

The narrow path coiled like a snake up the hillside. In some areas Maya and Gaai had to scramble and grip rock to avoid tumbling back to the plateau. The raven used his wings in the most difficult places, keeping pace with Maya. She fought a persistent urge to look down, frightened vertigo would alter her perspective and she’d fall and die.

She focused on the trail, ignoring the knowledge that a careless error would send her tumbling down the steep slope. The sun moved to a high point in the sky, beating down on her head and casting spots before her eyes. Every now and then she took a small sip of water from her backpack.

And kept climbing.

Her T-shirt rode up her back, soaking up the sweat, but more dripped down her face and stung her eyes. Her feet squelched in the heavy boots, her jeans had rubbed her legs raw. The path came to an abrupt end at a narrow ledge.

Maya puffed hard, searching for the place where the path continued. The ledge jutted out of the mountain, the width of her body, surrounded by sheer rock face.

“You can wait here,” said Gaai as he flew onto the ledge.

Maya hauled herself up with a grunt of exertion and sat cross-legged, panting, her back against the cool rock. Pulling off her backpack, she tossed it down within easy reach. She had the urge to throw her arms against the cliff and cling like Velcro, but she might never let go.

“What’s next?” she asked, trying to catch her breath. A salty breeze brought welcome relief to her hot cheeks.

“I’ll be back soon.” The bird hopped along the smooth surface of the ledge.

Maya stared at him. “How long?”

He tossed his head back, indicating the fortress and flew off.

She sighed and settled back against the ridge. The entire coast unfolded before her eyes. Giant waves rolled in, crashing inexorably against boulders, spraying water high. The incline looked sickeningly sheer and she pulled her gaze away, sinking back against the solid wall with a hollow stomach.

A gust of wind flattened her hair back from her face as she settled in for God only knew how long. Ominous purple-gray clouds crept into view. A few drops of rain spat on her head. Her hands burned, ripped raw under all the dirt and ash, while blood and sweat stuck to her clothes and face. She sagged against the wall, tilting her head to stare at the clouds.

She gradually unclenched her fingers. Right now she’d do just about anything to get off this aerie. She worried her thumb with her teeth. Perhaps she’d judged Resh harshly. People did the weirdest things under pressure, things they never thought they’d do.

He hadn’t told her the truth, sure but he’d had a task to do and he’d changed his mind once he’d met her. She, on the other hand, had rifled through his thoughts like a snoop reading someone’s diary.

Her heart pounded in her chest. It was awful to admit, but maybe she had a little problem with spells. His magic had offered a terrible temptation, like the best of relaxation charms. She’d wanted more of his power and pulled as hard as she could to get it.

Her mother’s low-pitched voice rang in her head, “Take the spell. It’s easier that way.”

Dark shapes skittered across the ground and the air wavered. Her mind pulled away from her body, an observer.

If a hallucination hit up here, she’d die. Grasping her backpack with urgent hands, she tore it open.

Her fingertips settled on hard glass.

There was one spell left.

* * * *

Fluorescent blue stars sparkled in the distance, twirling and spinning incessantly. Resheph tumbled through the void, weightless in a realm without gravity. Pia drifted with him through the dense blackness, unable to join with him without a material body.

Maya had tossed him from the union like refuse. Worse, she shouldn’t have had the power to break the spell. Would she know what to do when she arrived? Gods forbid, if she confessed what she’d done, the Tribune would lock her up and throw away the key.

The force of her expulsion had ripped through him like fire. He hoped to find her safe and sound so he could wring her bloody neck for endangering them both.

He hadn’t had enough magic to transmute them both across the Abyss, so he’d tangled their souls instead. She had more power than he’d expected, forcing her way in his mind with ease. He’d underestimated her; one mistake after the other, piling up on each other.

“So, what have we here?” a gravelly voice asked.

The sound cut through Resheph’s soul as if it had been doused with a high concentration of acid.

“A warrior, of the Enim Empire. Lacking good fortune and in need of assistance,” Resheph said, considering his next move.

The spirit chuckled, but it sounded cold and smug. Its form coalesced and a smoky luminescent shape appeared. A well-formed naked man leaned indolently against a high-backed chair, one hooked finger raised, pointing at Resheph. Revealed by a glowing light, his golden hair and jade eyes gave him an angelic look. The spirit grinned, showing sharp teeth that spread a chill of icy warning down Resheph’s spine. The spirit stood close enough for Resheph to feel cool air coming off its body.

Wisps of vapor uncurled, swirling from its hand. The cloud took the shape of a serpent and homed in on Resheph. He flinched, throwing his weight back, but the smoke followed, sticking to his body. The substance cascaded into his mouth and nose, bringing with it the taste of decay. Metal hooks embedded deep into muscle and he howled. With gritted teeth, he flung himself back, fighting the shackles.

“Your poor fortune is my advantage,” it said softly. “The scent of your soul is most distracting.” The spirit’s lower abdomen flushed a deep red. It opened its mouth, showing several layers of bloodred teeth, and sucked in a deep breath, dragging Resheph closer.

The creature threw its head back, laughing. Its jaw hinged open, showing a bifurcated tongue and fleshy maggots wriggling in a contrast of alabaster on red.

Resheph writhed. Of all the gods in the Abyss, he had to come across one such as this. Groping in his mind, he tried to catch a spool of magic and stream power into a spell.