Of Dreams and Dragons Page 7

  That doesn't really make it sound much simpler. It sounds unreal. Impossible. Fantastical. And for a moment I wonder if this is all a dream... a terrible game played by my imagination. But then I look at the boy, dead so young, a tool for the Fenrial to get to me, and my eyes burn with guilt and grief. "Tell me truthfully," I say through a thick throat. "Did he die because of me?"

  Kaden frowns. "Corrupted spirits have little power in the physical realm without a body. But the more ancient ones do have some sway. Enough to make a log roll out of a fireplace. Or to make a boy trip in the woods."

  The tears I've been holding in are released, and I bury my face in my hands and cry. I'm the reason that girl died in the fire. The reason this boy bled out in the woods.

  Kaden scoots closer to me, putting his arm around my shoulders. "You did what you could. More than I expected," he says softly. "You knew nothing of this world, of corrupted spirits, or the true nature of your mark. Their deaths are not on you, they are on me."

  I can hear the pain in his voice and I look into his eyes, into the heartache etched on his face. "It is my duty, the duty of the Ashlord, to protect those who need protecting. To defend them from the spirits who seek to take their life. And twice today I have failed."

  He swipes at his eyes and as suddenly as his sorrow appeared, it is gone, replaced by a cold determination. "Thank you," he says, "for using your spirit to help stop the Fenrial. But you must not summon your dragon again. Not until you learn to control it. You were lucky that your mother knew how to bind your spirit. Most of us suffer a painful fate when first we discover our powers."

  "Why must I keep it hidden? My spirit did as I willed it to. I wanted to stop the Fenrial and I did." I've never felt that kind of power before. That kind of freedom. I realized in that moment as my spirit was unleashed that I've been living my whole life imprisoned by this wristband, a part of my soul chained by whatever my mother did to bind my spirit and hide it. I know she did it to protect me, but I don't think she realized that in protecting me she was also killing me little by little. Sometimes a person needs a taste of freedom to realize they have never been free. After, they can never go back to being who they once were. They are forever changed by what could be.

  "While it's true that your spirit did as your instincts commanded, it will not always be so. You were lucky. We were on a mountain, in the woods, with no one else who could have been caught in the collateral damage. But it will not always be so. You have power, Sky. I believe you are the second strongest untrained person I have ever met, and though that is a gift, it is a curse as well."

  "I would never hurt anyone," I say. "Not unless I had to."

  His eyes soften, but his voice is still firm. "I know that's not your intention, but intention is not enough. You need training." He holds his hand out to me. "Come with me, Sky. Let me train you. Let me show you how to control the spirit within. If you don't, it will only be a matter of time until you hurt the children you so desperately seek to protect."

  I freeze, the blood draining out of my face. The children. "How do you know about my kids? I never mentioned them to you."

  I back away from him, suddenly suspicious.

  "Like you guessed," he says, dropping his hand, "I'm here because of you. At least, I am now. And it would have been foolish not to do research."

  I feel violated. Lied to. And... panicked. How much does he know about me? About my kids?

  This unease feels all too familiar, and I wonder... is he working with Pike? Was this a distraction to keep me away so Pike could go after Kara? I hoped to catch him out here, but... Pike must have a spirit as well. That's how he did so many crazy things that made no sense. And if he does, the police will be no match for him. "I have to get home," I say, my mind focused only on my kids. "Now!"

  "Sky, wait! I need to--"

  His words hang in the wind, a distant echo, and I realize I'm no longer in the woods. I'm on a cold, dark sidewalk, one lone streetlamp flickering as if it's about to die at any moment. Across from me, shrouded in ominous shadows, is my house.

  My vision spins, and I suck in the cold air as I attempt to still the dizziness threatening to overwhelm me. How did I get here? I was just with Kaden, on the mountain. This has happened in the past, where I find myself moving from one place to another in a blink, but never this far. Never to a place I couldn't have even walked. Something inside me is changing. I look down at my wrist, and see the leather cuff still in place. Either the power in me is growing, or whatever magic my mother gave me is fading.

  I shake my head. I don't have time to figure this out right now. I check my phone to make sure I'm not late, then run to the police car parked across from my house. I gesture at the two officers inside. "We need to leave! Now! Help me get the kids out of the house and--"

  I stop at the rolled down passenger window. The streetlight illuminates their faces. A red line across each of their necks, and a waterfall of blood spilling from their throats, their skin pale, their eyes open and glossy, unseeing. Dead.

  My heart beats a frenzy against my chest and my gut twists as I dash across the street to my house. I can't be too late. I can't--

  The front door is cracked open. I barge through it, into the living room. It's dark. Light from the street casts everything in a sickly pale hue.

  From the kitchen I hear a whimpering. I take a step, then two, until I see a maddening sight.

  Pat slumps on the cracked linoleum floor, his teeth shaking, his eyes bulging in fear and pain, his arm outstretched, pulled up so unnaturally his shoulder looks dislocated.

  Pike stands over him, cloaked in black and wearing his hat. He holds Pat's arm against the kitchen table, and moves an object back and forth in the darkness. A long, thin saw, thin enough to hide in a cane. It grinds against Pat's arm, cutting through flesh and bone.

  Pike looks up when I enter, a banal smile on his face. "Good evening Ms. Knightly. How good to see you again."

  Ten

  Reaper

  "The screaming stopped five minutes ago," Pike says. His words are calm. Smooth. As if he exerts no effort hacking through a man's arm. "He is only tentatively hanging onto consciousness now."

  "Let him go!" I roar, my voice tearing through the room. It shakes the glasses in the sink, but Pike doesn't even blink.

  He looks back down at his handiwork. "In a moment. Once the deed is done. You see, Pat would not give up a child. He had forgotten about his bargain, it would seem. But pain can be a potent reminder." He pauses, his expression thoughtful, as if mulling over a complex math problem. "About halfway through the process, he finally surrendered, finally owned up to his end of the deal. But, I'm afraid it would be wrong to stop cutting now. The reminder would feel unfinished, and I despise leaving things half-done."

  He resumes sawing at Pat's arm, the bone crunching sound reverberating through the small space. My stepfather drools, his eyes half-closed, his body limp, his arm held up by the force of Pike and nothing more.

  The sheer horror of it all dulls my mind for a moment, but then his words fall into me one by one, until they form a complete thought. He finally surrendered, Pike said. Finally owned up to his end of the deal. The deal to give up one of his kids. One of my kids.

  There are no more rational options left to me. I cannot talk my way of out this. The police cannot help. I have but one choice. I reach for the leather cuff around my wrist, and I pull--

  Pike throws up his hand, and a screech fills the air. It drums in my ears, pounding into my skull, into my blood and bones, pulsing in my heart, like a hammer beating down on me. I fall to my knees and try to cover my ears, but I can't move my arms. The sound is too loud, too encompassing. I can't reach over to pull off my wrist band. It's like trying to move the earth.

  Pike smiles, completely unaffected by the sound ripping apart my insides. This is how it all ends, I'm convinced. This sound is the end of it all. But Pike, he continues his gruesome task of sawing Pat's hand off. "Do not worry, the children wi
ll not wake. I have made sure their night is restful."

  My eyes widen and Pike chuckles. "Oh, they are not harmed, have no fear. Only sleeping." Pike looks down and smiles a satisfied smile. "Ah, there." He pulls the saw across Pat's arm once more and Pat falls to the ground, his body limp and draining of blood on the tattered linoleum floor. Pike holds the severed hand up triumphantly like a crimson trophy from a macabre game. He examines it briefly, a clinical expression on his face, then tosses it aside. "Now, it is time I had what I came for."

  He wipes down his saw with a kitchen towel, then sheathes it back into the cane until it once again looks innocuous. He walks around the puddle of blood pooling around Pat, and passes me. "I am sorry you had to see that. It was not necessary. You should have stayed away. It was none of your concern after all."

  None of my concern? None of my concern!

  He heads upstairs, to the children's bedroom. To take one of my kids.

  I will not let this happen. I will protect them with everything I am. I swore this to my mother. To myself. To them.

  With all the strength I have left in me, I fight this force that's paralyzed me. Despite the crushing weight pinning me in place, I stand. Slowly. Painfully. It feels as if every bone in my body cracks from the effort. Every muscle tears at the strain. But I push through it.

  And I manage to get to my feet. I grab the kitchen counter for support as I push my legs to move. One step. Then another. One more.

  But I'm taking too long.

  The stairs creek and Pike descends, a bundle of blankets in his arms.

  No.

  "What beautiful eyes she has," he whispers, smiling at me.

  And then he leaves out the front door. And the screeching sound in my head is nothing compared to my own pain exploding from within.

  My baby. He took my baby.

  Kara!

  I try to scream her name, but no words leave my mouth. Instead, there is the roar of a beast, the roar of my spirit fighting to be free.

  And with all I have, I charge outside, following him into the dark street. He's already down the road. "Give her back!" I yell, my voice carrying far, the power of my spirit strong.

  He stops and turns to face me. He looks impressed despite himself. "You resisted my power. How interesting."

  Branches snap to the left of me, and I see a man running towards us, from the park, a red scarf waving behind him.

  Kaden.

  But... how?

  He notices me, then shifts his eyes to Pike, but I don't have time to think about him, or what he's doing here.

  I grab my wrist band, knowing I must end this now.

  "No!" yells Kaden. "He's not like us. You can't fight him."

  It doesn't matter. Nothing he says matters. Because I have no choice. Even if he's right and this is a fool's hope, it's the only hope I have.

  Pike raises his cane, and then... he changes.

  His eyes turn red. His face sinks into itself, his lips pulling away to show teeth and gum and bone. His cheeks become stretched tight over his skull. Even his clothing changes, his robes turning to torn rags, as if he is decomposing in front of me.

  His walking stick extends, pulsing. The crystal orb at the top explodes into pieces and red steel pushes through, turning the cane into a scythe. He's using his spirit, changing like I did, but this seems different. Wrong.

  His ragged robes reveal his pale skin. Crystals jut out from his chest, his arms, his shoulders. Red gems that look as if they've been impaled into his body.

  They glow, and that glow spreads through his flesh, beneath his eyes, throughout his whole body.

  I'm mesmerized by his transformation, by the power he wields over me. It all happens in a blink, a moment severed by a split consciousness as I register what's about to happen, unable to prevent it.

  In an instant, Pike stands before me, moving through the air as if he's one with it.

  I don't even feel his scythe as it slices upwards.

  He missed, I think.

  But even as I think this, I collapse to the ground, my body catching up much faster than my mind as my feet buckle under me. My jaw hits the hard concrete. My body rattles from the impact.

  A spray of crimson rain splashes around me, and it takes another moment to realize it is my blood in the air.

  Then the pain hits.

  Brutally. Fully. Completely. I scream, and it is the sound a deer makes when it's being attacked by a mountain lion. The primal scream of prey helpless against the predator.

  My eyes search my body for the source of all this blood, and I see it. He's cut through my Achilles tendons, cut them open. Cut through muscle and bone. One ankle barely remains attached to my body. The other is half torn off.

  I reach for my foot, my mind frozen, my body in shock. And I scream again. My fingers are gone, my hands now just bloody stumps.

  I'm done. I never stood a chance. He will take Kara, and she will be in the clutches of this monster, and I will have failed her. Failed my mum. Failed myself.

  I know the killing blow is about to come.

  And then I hear the crash of steel behind me. Kaden stands between me and Pike, his sword locked with the scythe.

  "We meet again, Ashlord," Pike says with icy calm in his voice. "Let's see if you've learned anything since our last encounter." He pulls away and strikes.

  Kaden throws up his arm and something black and thick, like dark steel, grows over his hand, down to his elbow. The scythe hits the hardened skin and ricochets off.

  I need to help, but I'm losing blood so fast. Pike doesn't need to strike me again to kill me, I can already feel myself dying. But I still have power in me. Power untapped. Unused. Raw and untrained, but still... it's all I have left.

  Through agony, through the most pain I could have ever imagined, I lift my severed hand and hold my wrist to my mouth. With shaking teeth, I tear at the leather strap around my wrist, then pull it free, revealing the symbol beneath, unleashing my power.

  Kaden said it could be dangerous, using my spirit form again, but I don't care. I need to save Kara.

  My body fills with light, my skin turning ivory, my hair turning silver. I feel my muscles knitting back together, healing. No less painful than when they were severed, but some strength returns, and I roar with all the fierceness I've left buried in my soul. I roar with all the pain, all the fear, all the outrage of this unjust world. I roar as a body forms around me... scales, claws, wings, teeth. I see my spirit materialize, roaring along with my rage. Sparks fill the air... lightning, not from the sky, I realize, but from me. From my spirit. It strikes out left and right, tearing apart the earth wherever it lands, ripping jagged wounds into anything it strikes. When it hits near Pike and Kaden, they break apart.

  It is only then that I hear the voice. A whisper on the wind. "Sky... " Too late, I turn and see him. Kyle stands outside the house, his face drowsy. He looks at me with worry. With fear at the horrible sight before him.

  And I see the lightning, now out of my control, unwieldy in its wildness, turn on him.

  No. No! Noooo!

  I will it to stop. To end.

  But even I cannot contain what I have unleashed.

  The lightning strikes towards Kyle. The darkness of night fills with unnatural light.

  And then he is there.

  Kaden.

  He rushes forward, faster than I've ever seen him, and somehow... somehow he outruns the lightning. He grabs Kyle, pushing him out of the way just as the lightning strikes them both.

  I hear Kyle scream in pain.

  And Pike escapes into the shadows, holding Kara close to him.

  My baby.

  Is gone.

  I remember her baby breath on my face as I held her close to me.

  The way her tiny hand squeezed my finger.

  The weight of her against my chest at night while we slept, in between midnight feedings and diaper changes.

  How exhausted I was those first few months, dealing with the
loss of my mother, a newborn baby to care for, and Caleb and Kyle, in their own grief and anger.

  The joy I felt at her first word, her first tooth, her first attempts at walking.

  And I remember my very first words to her after our mother died. My promise to her. "I'll protect you."

  Kara is mine.

  And this bastard isn't getting my daughter.

  I will not break that promise.

  Kaden has Kyle.

  I need to get to Pike before he's gone.

  My feet and hands have healed themselves, and though pain still floats in me like an ever-present houseguest, I push myself to stand and force myself forward.

  I run through the shadows, through the dark streets, as fast as I can. Faster than I have ever moved. So fast everything around me is a blur.

  I don't have a weapon, but I think back to what Kaden did, how his body transformed. I concentrate, and my arm changes, my hand extending, turning into a crystal claw. I stare at it a moment, in awe of what I'm doing with these new powers, flexing and moving this weapon that I now wear as a second skin.

  Pike won't get away.

  I catch up to him, surprising both of us I think, as he turns to see me, shock in his eyes.

  I strike, ready to kill him with my crystal claw, preparing myself to grab Kara before she falls, but Pike is too fast.

  He slashes up with his scythe, a trail of fire in its wake.

  It takes me at my legs, slashing my body in two.

  The scythe cuts through my neck.

  And everything goes black.

  Eleven

  Sanctuary

  The shock of coming to consciousness is not one I can easily describe. I thrash about trying to feel if my whole body is still complete. It is. Was I having a nightmare? Am I dreaming now? The pain of my evisceration is still heavy in my mind, but as the seconds pass, the memory flees, as if it was only an imagined thing. My eyes spring open, and I search around, looking for something familiar.