Eramane (18 page)

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Authors: Frankie Ash

BOOK: Eramane
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“I am sorry, my friend. Your loss is great, but we can do nothing for them here,” Nahmas says. Samiah does not want to leave his father and Lord Danius lying on the floor of the house. The father of the caretaker family rushes in with a long, sharp plowing tool in his hand.

“What happened here? I heard the screams and rushed over,” he says, searching the wreckage. “Oh no!” he whimpers, seeing that Randall lies dead in Samiah’s arms.

“I have no time to explain; I must find my sister,” Samiah says. “Will you see that they are properly buried? And take care of my mother?” He wipes tears from his face.

“Yes, sir,” the caretaker replies. Samiah embraces his mother, squeezing her tight.

“I will find her, Mother, and I will bring her back to us,” he declares and rushes from the home. “Nahmas, let us ride!”

“Yes, Lord Fahnestock,” Nahmas assents. Samiah looks at Nahmas in question.

“What did you say?” Samiah asks.

“Lord Danius is dead. You are his successor.” It takes Samiah a moment to piece it together, but Nahmas is correct; the High Commander takes the chair in the eastern tower of Eludwid Hall when its current ruler dies. Samiah’s uncle, his mother’s brother, would have been the next in line had he not been killed. Now Samiah will succeed Lord Danius. Samiah knows that he now has the power to summon the help of any region he chooses.

“I did not recognize her at first, the red hair,” Samiah recollects his sister’s altered appearance. “And she was so strong, hoisting Mother up like that. But then the beast called to her; she is a Nameless One too. He made her that way. He took her to be his mate!” Samiah’s anger rises. “That is why we could not find her body. That is why he killed Lebis!” His ranting calms. “We have to find them, and kill him,” Samiah says solemnly.

“Your sister?” Nahmas asks.

“You saw her—she could not kill our mother. Eramane is fighting. We can save her, but we must hurry,” Samiah boasts.

“She is like him, my lord; she may never be the same again,” Nahmas suggests.

“She will be as she once was. She is my sister. I cannot abandon her!”

Samiah yanks at the leather girth on the saddle, as Aurick and Terrin crest the hill and gallop down to meet with Samiah and Nahmas.

“Eramane is alive, ” Nahmas explains. “She was taken by the Nameless One and changed. They came here tonight and killed Lord Danius and Samiah’s father. They would have killed us, but Eramane recognized her brother and backed down.”

Aurick and Terrin have news of their own. “We saw the creature above the trees a short time ago. They are traveling east,” Terrin says.

Samiah is revived by this news. They are planning to head east anyway. Now Samiah is confident he will find his sister.

“But the shores stretch so far; we may never find them,” Aurick notes.

“There are only so many rocks big enough to hide them,” Samiah says as he directs his steed to head east. “Well,” he says, looking at the Ghosts, “what are we waiting for?” The four set off toward Lunlitch, a city to the east. Samiah thinks of his sister and the tragedy of what has become of her. If he does not get Eramane back now, he may lose her to the Nameless One forever.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Adikiah’s Fury


W
HAT HAVE YOU DONE? YOU
have betrayed me, Eramane!”

Adikiah throws me to the stone floor of the landing. His anger is incomprehensible; it flushes itself out through his eyes, suffocating their color, leaving them black. The winds blow rampantly, and I am not on the ground long before Adikiah grabs me up again. I try with all my strength to pry away his claws, but Adikiah has just harvested and is too powerful; I cannot contest with him. His movements are wild and unpredictable; I have never seen him like this before. When our flesh meets, I can hear his thoughts, feel his anger. I see a partial memory of the night he killed his creator. Adikiah’s demeanor was much like it is now, and his creator was defenseless, as I am now. Short fragments flow through me, and then, there it is, the moment he murdered his creator; Adikiah plunged his mighty talons into his creator’s chest, dislodging a red, pulsing, orblike object. In a way, his rage satisfies me, because now he can feel in this one moment what I have been feeling since that day in the meadow.

Adikiah’s wings flap uncontrollably, cutting me with their sharp edges. “I love you! I made you my queen, and you chose your miserable human family over me!” He swoops me down to the terrace and pins me against a stone column, taking my face in his large hands. Again I try to push him away, but it is pointless. I would have stood a chance had I harvested too, but like this I am too weak.

“You took me there to see whom I would choose?” I ask softly. “You did not think that I might remember them?”

He presses his chest against me. “I wanted you to remember them,” he huffs. “I wanted you to remember your human family and still choose me!” he roars.

“Please! I could not control it!” I plead. If I do not get through to him, he will end me. My pleas are not consoling, and the more I speak, the more he rages. But to my relief, Adikiah’s attention suddenly falls from me.

A black dust appears in the winds that strongly blow around us. It is thin in the beginning and then grows thicker. Adikiah releases me and I collapse. “Leave now, Nulyk. Your presence is not welcome,” Adikiah commands. The black dust cloud forms into the being that collected my blood when I
became
. Its distorted face busies itself by changing from one demonic visage to another. A wicked sight I recall too vividly. Nulyk laughs a low, crickety laugh, and tosses an empty canister to the floor.

“They want more,” Nulyk says.

“What more can I give them?” Adikiah asks. His chest heaves with every breath, and his wings flex.

“You have made a mistake, mighty one. Did you really think you could possess such purity all for yourself?” Nulyk laughs as its body begins to churn. “She will be your demise,” it says. The burdensome creature contorts into a whirlwind and heads back to the sky; it glances back at us. “They want her,” it reveals before disappearing into the night sky. I lose my desire to fight, and unconscious I am left to Adikiah’s mercy.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

The Gate


I
WILL WAIT A THOUSAND YEARS
for you, Eramane.” It sounds like a whisper in a dream, yet when I open my eyes and look around the chamber, I see that I am no longer dreaming. I also see a wall that looks as if water reflects on it … and that sound, what is that sound? Like the hum of a blade when it has been struck by another. Only this vibratory noise resonates within the mountain walls, and it draws out in an offensive note that strikes the ear in a maddening way. Although I have not been in this chamber, I know where I am: the Gate chamber, the chamber where Adikiah transports souls to the Orders of the Reach. He once briefly mentioned this room to me but has never brought me here, not until now. I hear the trickle of water dripping from the walls. I try to move, but I cannot; my limbs are numb, and a familiar sweet taste lingers in my mouth. “I cannot risk you bringing down my mountain,” Adikiah had said, forcing the liquid in my mouth before leaving the terrace.

Adikiah approaches me and kneels down to the floor. He has calmed since our last encounter on the terrace. His face is level with mine, and he is not in his true form; he is the beautiful man that disguises his fiendish image. In the few seconds before he speaks again, I wonder many things. I wonder if death is still capable of bringing me peace. I wonder about my family. Did Adikiah kill my brother and mother before taking me back to the palace? I pray that they are still alive, because I have every intention of surviving Adikiah’s wrath and making him pay for what he has done to my family.

My seconds of thought cease with Adikiah’s voice. “I was wrong to have trusted a human, but your powers over me are strong,” he says. “Now I must keep you down here until your will is broken, until you grow to love me, until you accept your new life, or until that noise drives you out.” I thought that I had despised him before; my feelings run far deeper than that now. I should have tried to end him after my second harvest, when I was stronger. Adikiah was wise to sedate me; if I had the chance now, I would die trying to defeat him.

“If it takes a thousand years, Eramane, I will wait,” he says, rising to his feet. An abrupt feeling of amusement stirs within me, as I realize I am beginning to feel my body. Did Adikiah not get enough down my throat? Was the concoction not strong enough? Either way I can move, and Adikiah is in his human form!

Adikiah turns from me and makes his way to the chamber door. I do not hesitate; pushing off from the floor, I lunge at him. I hit him and the impact sends us into the door, my arms around his throat. I lock him up tight and squeeze; he thrashes about, trying to shake me, a futile attempt. We fall to the ground and the impact separates us, giving Adikiah the opportunity he needs to transform. Hope escapes me as I watch his instantaneous change; now his power trumps mine. I turn and run to the end of the chamber, putting distance between us. I cannot let this be the end. I have been through too much; my family has suffered too greatly. He does not deserve this victory; I do! My body begins to tingle, and my flesh tightens, as though I have jumped into freezing water. I stare at Adikiah as he rushes toward me, and as I focus on him, I notice that his flesh has begun to split and tear away from his body, a detail that has not escaped his attention. He howls in pain as his skin breaks and cracks, though he does not cease his advance. Adikiah pummels me and sends me against the wall; he steps back immediately, eyes wide. I stick to it, like a meaningless bug in a spider’s web. Looking at me with such sorrow and astonishment, he cries out to the wall, “You cannot have her!” My body begins to penetrate the wall, as the hard, rocky surface gives way to a penetrable mass. I struggle to free myself and feel something grabbing at me. At first I do not know what it is, but after a moment I can tell it is a set of hands trying to pull me into the rock. Lanky, grayish-black arms reach out from the wall, holding me, wrapping around my body. I scream in frustration and confusion. Then they begin to cut me and stab me with their long nails. I wail as I beg Adikiah to help me. “Please! Kill me! Do not let them take me!”

“No!” Adikiah screams as he tries to free me from the wall. “No! I am sorry my love!” Adikiah pleads as he tries with all of his might to free me from the arms of the Gate. “Let her go!” he yells. It is too late. As the last part of my body disappears into the wall, he grabs my hand and then has to let it go. He howls his objection, and his screams fill the palace.

The arms that pulled me into the Gate have abandoned me, and I peer around the quiet tunnel, standing motionless. I do not know where I am, only that this place is haunting, unforgiving. Subtle moans fill the tunnel, and my head. The moans sound like starving vagrants in the streets, begging with their last efforts for compassion. As I make my way down the dark, foggy passage, the moans grow louder. Soaked with my own blood, I shiver in the cold, dank air. The arms that pulled me in tore at me viciously. I shiver more violently as the sounds from within become intolerable. Near the end of the short passage I see an opening into a vast, murky area. I enter the dense vicinity, and the sounds become words. “Eramane,” they call. Something whips past me, hitting my shoulder, nearly knocking me to my knees. “Eramane,” again they call. A vinelike object wraps around my ankle. “Come pay for your sins,” they chant as the restraint pulls me to the ground and carries me to my atonement.

Thousands of souls shriek at me as they have their way with my body. Ripping skin from my back and legs, they thrash at me. At times, only one or two will attack me, and other times they all join in. I scream for death to come and take me, but my words are masked by the souls who mock me louder than I can cry out. They laugh at my pain; it riles them. The more I cry, the more they tear at my flesh. The pain of
becoming
is no contest to the misery these souls are causing. On my back, I feel an intense pressure, like the weight of something tugging at my arm; only the tug is forceful and delivered with fervor. I realize what it is just as the pressure turns to pain; a soul has latched on to one of my wings, and it intends on tearing it from me. I cannot stop it, there are too many, and guarding my face is more important. But the pain increases, and at its peak I hear the ripping noise from behind me. My hands move from my face despite myself and search my shoulder, finding only a raw hole where the wing was attached. The soul carries my wing off like a trophy; “Look what I have done to her,” it seems to boast. My ordeal is far from over, for I have another wing, and an envious soul has witnessed the delight in possessing one of them. In one swift motion, a soul latches onto my wing, twisting and pulling until at last it has secured its own declaration.

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