The Black Rose (31 page)

Alex returned to consciousness. The ground beneath him was wet. His body ached all over, and he was sure he was bleeding from somewhere: he still wore his tunic, but it was in tatters and heavy with brine. Mustering his energy, he cracked open his eyelids and pulled himself to his feet.

He seemed to be on a beach. Behind him, some kind of immense lake or ocean opened out—entirely silent, save for the lapping against his heels. In front, a gorge of pitiless ashen rock led uphill. The sky was like nothing he'd ever seen. It was splintered between light and darkness: behind him, white fog; in front, a bank of obsidian brewing on the horizon.

He was not alone. A tall, grey figure stood a few feet before him, facing away.

“Where are we?” Alex spluttered, his lungs ejecting a layer of sour water.

“At the end of the universe. Chthonia, where the Light meets the Darkness.”

Alex tried to remember. He had seen the indigo light from his room and done as he was instructed. He had concentrated, and Darkness had bloomed before him, a portal into nothingness. He had stepped inside and felt himself slip away in black smoke. He had hurtled through oblivion, his individuality almost consumed, and lost consciousness. The last thing he could remember was a grey presence speeding alongside, carrying him away from some cataclysm behind.

“You're not the Emperor, are you?”

The grey figure turned. “No. The Emperor was a tool: a mortal vessel, consumed by fanaticism. He is gone, along with Nexus and the Cult of Dionysus.”

“So what
are
you?” Alex demanded. Despite his mental and physical exhaustion, he could feel the rage rising up again. He could feel the power he had become so used to surging through him, alighting on every particle of blood in his veins. He was a conduit—something had ripped open inside him, and unfettered energy swooped out. He could feel more than see now. His outstretched arms shook with the force of obsidian fire blasting outwards. He had been imprisoned for months by the grey
thing,
but no more.
No more.

The grey figure remained motionless, the flames brushing him ineffectually. His expression was unreadable, but those golden orbs burnt through the inferno, brighter and more terrible than the rolling flames.

Alex's rage subsided, and the energy ebbed. He was gasping heavily, beads of burning sweat seeping from his scalp.

The figure appraised him with those twin jewels, set in a statue of wilting rock. “I am not the one you should be venting your anger at. It was your so-called friends who left you for dead. They came to Nexus the night it was destroyed. They liberated others—humans, elves, even the natives—but not you.”

“Liar,” Alex shouted, flecks of spittle wetting the pebbles. “They weren't there. They'd never leave me.”

For the first time, the figure smirked. “Perhaps you value them too highly.”

And with a deadening thud, the object dropped to the ground before Alex. He felt the heat drain from him entirely. There was no mistaking the object before him: a dull metal egg held in curved clasps, taken from the heart of
The Golden Turtle.
So the Apollonians
had
been to Nexus and had not come to find him. There was no question as to whether they'd known he was there. They'd all seen him vanishing into the Darkness with Icarus.

He dropped to his knees, his eyes searing with tears. The void that had opened within him sparked once more: rage, not at this grey figure or his predicament, but at his friends' betrayal. He had stayed strong, he had stayed loyal, and it had all been for nothing.

He screwed up his eyes and roared into the silent day-night, feeling the flames burst anew around him. He was an anti-sun, Dark energy shooting outwards in convulsions of anger and hatred.

When the flames finally quelled, his chest was heaving again. He opened his eyes. The rocks and cliffs were scorched black, indigo embers kindling in the cracks. The grey figure was gone, leaving the ashen path curling upwards before him.

And, though he could not see it, his eyes were no longer emerald green but bright, burning gold.