Night of Nyx (The Nightfall Chronicles 2.5) (4 page)

Zorin lands on a stone path amongst a field of dark green, his feet making no noise as they touch down. The deer’s blood helped rejuvenate his body, but he is still wounded. He needs to rest before he can make it back to the Cathedral. He walks in the dark, waiting for sunset, waiting for his body to finish its healing. The world around him hums with the soft sounds of night insects and animals finishing up their nocturnal routines before the rise of the sun. The cusp of a new dawn was Danika's favorite time of day. When old and new meet and share stories, she would say.

He exhales heavily and turns right, onto a path that takes him through a church garden. A cluster of tall sculpted angels tower over him, their wings spread wide, their faces fierce as they hold their swords high. The scene surprises him, and he places a hand against one of the marble statues.

"They are beautiful, are they not?"

Zorin turns quickly toward the voice. A priest stands there, his hands clasped before him. He's an older man, white hair haloing a face etched by time. But his eyes are sharp, bright, clever.

"I apologize if I have intruded in your space," Zorin says, surprised he didn't hear the priest approach.

"Not at all. This is a space for anyone who needs it. You seem troubled, my son."

"Lost in thought. It's been a night of…"

"Conflict?" the priest suggests.

Zorin nods. "Conflict."

"What, may I ask, are you conflicted about?"

"The usual, I suppose. Good versus evil. Right versus wrong."

The priest chuckles. "The simple questions. Of course."

Zorin looks up at the angels again. "It is rare to see an angel these days."

The priest raises an eyebrow. "Perhaps not as rare as all that, as it were. Times are changing again, are they not?"

Zorin studies the priest more closely. "Is this your church?"

"No, I am here but for a visit. My church is much larger." The priest looks at Zorin or, rather, into Zorin. "I go where I am needed. Tonight, I was needed here, it would seem."

Zorin smirks, sarcasm on his tongue. “Doing the work of his Holiness, Pope Icarus?”

"I do not follow him," the priest says simply.

Zorin pauses. He did not expect such words from a priest. "Icarus does not have the best interest of humans or Zeniths at heart," says Zorin. His own honesty surprises him.

"You sound as if you know him well."

"I know his type," Zorin says.

The priest sighs. “Icarus is not the hero we need. But, what of Nightfall?”

Zorin freezes. “What of her?”

“Is she the one we need? The Nephilim may be part Angel, but they are also part human. They are the bridge between the worlds and, I suspect, she has the best of both in her heart, and the worst.” He stares into Zorin’s eyes. “Beware setting up false gods, Zorin, even if only to take down devils.”

His name. How did he know his name?

Zorin steps back, his hand calling forth his sword, which shimmers from the darkness into steel and magic, solid in his palm. "Who are you?"

The priest smiles, holding his hand up. "Rest assured, I am not your enemy. As to who I am—well, aren't we all trying to figure that bit out? "

He must be a Zenith. With some ability to see into his mind, or perhaps to see things from afar.

The priest chuckles. "You are not the only one with power, Zorin. And you are not the only one struggling to know the right course of action."

Zorin raises an eyebrow and lets his sword disappear, but keeps his distance. "How do you know I am struggling?"

"Because we are all struggling. Whether human, Nephilim, Angel, Zenith or other."

"I know the right course of action,” says Zorin.

The priest steps closer, a sadness in his eyes. "Nightfall will change the world, but what will be left when she is done?”  

“A better place,” says Zorin.

“And who will rule? Her? You? The people?”

The people. People destroy each other. He has seen it again and again. He will not let it happen this time. Zorin grins. “Be careful, priest. Men of god should not commune with devils.” And he flies away, into the darkness.

***

Zorin lands on the Cathedral roof. He sits on the edge, resting. Seeing Danika tonight, even if only in ghostly memories, has shaken him. He misses her more, not less, as days march on. Whoever said time heals all wounds hasn't lived as long as him. Time is not a healer. It cares nothing for the hearts of man.

But beyond his longing for Danika and the life they once had, he is scared. It is not a feeling he enjoys or experiences often. Varian is too strong, and Nightfall isn't ready for an enemy like him. And as Scarlett Night she'll be right under his nose, studying at Castle Vianney.

The door to the rooftop opens and Carter walks out, his dark cloak casting him in shadows. He hands Zorin a blood pack and sits by his side.

Zorin drinks in silence until the bag is empty. His healing speeds up with this new infusion of blood, and he breathes deeply as the pain finally ebbs away.

"You went after Varian alone," Carter says. It is not a question. Carter knows him too well.

"I did."

"And you lost?"

"I am not dead," Zorin says, staring at the first hint of sunrise on the horizon.

"But Varian yet lives." Again, it is not a question. "You need to be more careful. Never has an enemy been as dangerous as that man. He has the strength, the ambition and the strategy to be our undoing. And he has the backing of the Pope. Give him the girl and let us move on with our own plans." There's a desperate edge to Carter's voice.

"Leave me in peace, Carter," Zorin says, a deep weariness overcoming him. "I do not wish to discuss this with you tonight."

Carter rises and walks away without a word as Zorin continues to stare into the new day. Sometimes, he wishes he and Carter had never been friends. Sometimes, he wishes his path had been different. But it is too late for such things.

Varian endures the medical ministrations from his daughter with silent impatience. "Corinne, I am already healing. There injuries are less severe than they appear."

Corinne rolls her eyes as she inspects his wounds and dabs a potent-smelling mixture onto them. "I'm aware of your GenMods, Dad, but you can still get an infection. And bones can heal incorrectly if not set, no matter how powerful you are."

"I appreciate your concern, but—"

She cuts him off with a stern look. "No arguing."

His lips twitch with a smile as she wraps his worst injuries in gauze coated with a special anti-bacterial mix. "How is school going?" he asks.

She pauses to examine a cut on his cheek. "It's fine. Busy. I like my roommate, Scarlett. She and I will be best friends, I'm sure of it."

He chuckles. "I look forward to meeting her. And your brothers, how are they doing?"

Corinne shrugs. "Wytt is charming and annoying in equal measure. Kai is mostly just annoying. But they're fine. We're all fine. You didn't really have to come. We can take care of ourselves. We're adults now."

Corinne moves to stoke the fire burning in the stone hearth facing Varian's bed. He stays in the chair she ordered him into and watches his daughter. She has indeed grown up into a beautiful and talented young woman. She will make an excellent Knight of the Hospitallers with her healing abilities. He can already feel his wounds closing, in part thanks to her concoctions.

"You could run a nice business with your healing potions," he tells her.

She returns to him and smiles. "I don't need money, I'm heir Princess to the Kingdom of Sapientia. What I need is my father the King to not get into deadly fights with renegade Nephilim after dinner."

"I'll do my best to stay out of trouble," he promises.

The eScreen on his wall comes to life, and they both pause to look up. The Vatican symbol appears on the screen and is replaced by the image of a man in the prime of youth wearing pristine white robes.

Corinne looks over at her dad. "His Holiness? At this hour?"

Varian frowns. "You should leave."

She doesn't argue as she grabs her medical supplies and scurries out of the room. Pope Icarus smiles at Varian through the screen. "King Varian, you look as if you have been in a brawl."

"A skirmish," Varian says. "Nothing serious. Just training harder than normal to prepare for Nightfall."

Icarus nods. "Have you found Nyx yet?"

Varian shakes his head. "No one has seen or heard from him since he escaped the care of Marcus and Violet Night."

"That's disappointing," Icarus says.

Varian maintains his smile as he pulls a shirt on to cover his bandages. He keeps his thoughts to himself about the corrupt reign of Pope Icarus, knowing no good will come from defying His Holiness now. No, he must wait, bide his time, find what he needs, and then he can strike. Once he has Nightfall he can make the world a better place and save it from this man before him. But for now, he needs the Pope as much as the Pope needs him.

"So little success, Varian. I wonder, do you have a plan?”

Indeed. Varian bites his tongue. "I do have a plan, Your Holiness. I will play to her weakness."

"And what is her weakness?" Icarus asks, his dark eyes penetrating.

"She believes she can save everyone."

When Nightfall finds Zorin, he is fully healed and still sitting on the roof, legs hanging of the edge, letting the golden sun light his face. She walks up behind him, her footsteps light, but he can feel her approach.

"Do you worry the Angel will return for you?"

It seems so long ago that he battled the Angel after it killed Scarlett's parents and nearly killed her. So many battles. So much blood. Will it be worth it? He shrugs. "No point in worrying about what you can't control." He leans back, letting his elbows rest on the roof. "Out of curiosity, what will you do after you find the Angel?"

"Kill it."

She sits next to him and he can see the profile of her face. She is, as always, dressed as Nightfall, the avenging rebel leader. But he has seen her as Scarlett, scared eighteen-year-old who just lost her parents. Who nearly lost her life. Who lost everything and yet keeps fighting for what she believes is right. "No. After."

"I'll…" She pauses.

Zorin smiles. "If all you care about is the Angel, why create the Dark Templars?"

"For my parents."

"Were they secret rebels too?" He knew her parents and knows the answer more than she, but he needs her to think.

"No—"

"Then why?"

"Because I've seen injustice, and I will end it."

"Because you know what is right?"

"No." Her voice softens. "But I believe more than one person should decide."

He nods. "Remember those words. When you find your Angel."

"You think the Angel should live?"

"I just wonder whether you'll give it a trial, or play judge and jury."

She scowls at him. "Whose side are you on?"

"Yours," he says, his smile fading. "Always yours." He leans closer to her and begins to talk.

"I traveled with a prince, once. His father, the King, disowned him when he was a boy. ‘No weakling is a son of mine,’ he said. So the prince vowed to grow strong and one day return and destroy his father.

"For years he traveled, collecting mercenaries, bandits, thieves, until he was no longer a boy. ‘I'm not ready,’ he said. ‘I need a castle of my own,’ he said. He did not pillage or burn. He marched his army to the castle of a warlord, one known for terrorizing the countryside, and forced him to surrender before his might. As the prince took his new throne, his right-hand man informed him that his father, the King, had passed away in his sleep. The prince felt rage, for he had failed at his revenge. And then he felt hollow, for he realized it didn't matter. And he felt happy, for he realized he had stopped a warlord and turned criminals into an army. For him that was enough."

She frowns. "So my vengeance will feel hollow."

"Vengeance is powerful, but it is not justice."

"It can be both."

He shakes his head. "It cannot."

"Why?"

"Motivation."

Her face turns dark, likely replaying memories of the night her family was murdered. "I have enough."

"But what kind? Good men steal, bad men steal. Good men kill, bad men kill. What is the difference between good and bad, right and wrong, if not motivation?"

"So I should forget the Angel? I cannot."

He turns his head to stare at the horizon. "If the prince had forgotten his father, would he have accomplished as much as he had?"

"No. He would have grown complacent in an easy life."

"And instead he became a great man. What would he have become if he had killed his father?"

She pauses. "You worry about who I will become," she says.

He doesn't answer for a while. When he does, his eyes are full of sorrow. "I've made mistakes, Scarlett. I pray you are not one of them."

***

They watch the sunrise in silence. As morning dawns, Zorin stands and holds a hand out to Nightfall. "Would you like to see the progress we have made here while you were at school?"

She accepts his hand and lets him pull her up. They extend their wings and fly off the roof, then use a secret passage to enter the catacombs inside the Cathedral. Blue lanterns light the gray walls. The halls are spacious. They enter a circular clearing where a man and woman spar with swords. The woman throws sand at the man, blinding him, then lands a strike to his ribs. "I've been training some of the Dark Templars," says Zorin. "Some show more promise than you." He grins at her and she rolls her eyes.

They continue on through a tunnel and enter a different clearing. Here the roof has been torn open allowing sunlight to pour down. The Night Raven, covered in dirt, sits in the center. Zorin points at the opening above. "Eventually, we'll install a door you can control remotely."

Trix slides out from under the aircraft, wiping dust from her hands. She studies a bolt in her palm, then throws it aside. "Stupid piece of metal."

"What are you doing?" Nightfall asks.

"Upgrading." Trix pets the Night Raven with affection. "Some of these parts are old. Sure, they still work well, but not top of the line anymore. You know what I'm saying?"

"The Night Raven is new," Nightfall argues.

"New official military aircraft, yes. But they're making better prototypes now. See what I'm saying?"

She nods. "How do you know so much about planes?"

"Planes. Tanks. Cars. You name it. My mom taught me how to fix them." Trix walks over to a workstation and grabs a wrench. "You know, if it wasn't for the war, I could be sitting somewhere with a wrench in one hand and a beer in the other." TR walks in and tosses her a beer. "Well," says Trix, smiling. "It's sunnier where I imagine."

"Were you conscripted?" Nightfall asks.

"Nah." Trix opens the beer and takes a sip. "But TR and I couldn't sit around and let others do all the fighting."

TR nods. He looks more relaxed since last night, but when his eyes meet Zorin's, both men clench their jaws.

"Good work," Nightfall says, extending her wings. She is airborne in a breath, flying out of the ceiling and landing on a patch of grass by the Cathedral. Zorin follows and lands beside her.

"You will cooperate with TR," Nightfall says, walking back to the Cathedral.

"He killed Nephilim." Zorin eyes the girl next to him.

"And you've never killed?"

He clenches his jaw.

Nightfall keeps walking, smiling at him. "You and TR are more similar than you think. You'll both do whatever it takes to win." She raises an eyebrow. "And if I knew you better, perhaps I would notice more similarities."

He chuckles. "So you want to know about me?"

"Yes. Tell me more about your life."

"When you have thousands of years to choose from, it's hard to pick what to share."

"Then tell me about your week." She stops near a large white rock and sits on it in The Thinker pose.

Zorin rolls his eyes. "I did some research to catch up on the times, learned the new Pope likes tournaments."

"New?"

"Well, new for me. How about you? How was your week?"

She shakes her head. "We're still on you."

He sighs, then speaks rapidly. "I started the week buying more marshmallows. Then I painted part of the Cathedral. Then I had a snack. About mid-week, everyone was asleep, and I considered getting a dog for company. But then I thought about the smell and the poop, and I thought what if I ever get hungry, would I really be able to resist? So, I decided no dog. That enough?"

She grins. "For now."

"Now your turn." He pulls a bag of marshmallows from his cloak and starts snacking.

She jumps off the rock and grabs a marshmallow for herself. "I saw a play.
Nox Aeterna
."

"Oh, yes. I've seen it. Not particularly historically accurate."

"That's what my roommate said."

"Who's your roommate?"

"Princess Corinne of the House of Ravens."

He freezes mid-bite. "That's a dangerous roommate to have."

"It gets better. Her father's coming to New York. To capture Nightfall."

He hides the marshmallow bag back in his cloak. He hoped they wouldn't have to talk about Varian quite yet. She is in more danger than Zorin realized, if she is rooming with their enemy's daughter and the heir to the Kingdom. "If Varian is coming here, we must be extra careful. I've seen him fight. You are not ready for him."

***

They walk back into the Cathedral, to the training room, and Zorin tosses Scarlett a practice sword and tells her to repeat the Way of Nyx.

She is only at it a few minutes when she sighs, her form only moderately acceptable. "Zorin, I need to fight. To fly."

"You need to practice your form."

"I've done it a million times. Can't I learn the other six now?"

He rubs his head as he reclines in one of the golden chairs. "Trust me, I know what's best. You need to learn patience. You're an immortal now. Stop acting like a whiny human girl."

She groans and continues the drill. "New subject. I need your help with something. I need an apartment in the city. My new friends at school were getting suspicious about me leaving and I needed a cover."

Carter walks in with a cup of LifeForce. "I'm happy to set that up for you, miss.” He acts the kind servant around her. Is it only for Zorin’s sake, or does Carter plan something more?

“Do you have a particular part of the city in which you'd prefer to live?" asks Carter.

Nightfall looks at Zorin, but he just shrugs. She takes the LifeForce and sips it. "I don't know. Someplace fun, artsy. Someplace my friends would believe I would pick."

Carter bows. "Consider it done. I know just the place. You will have your keys by the end of the weekend."

"Thanks."

Carter returns upstairs and Nightfall resumes her drills, still distracted by her own thoughts. "How would you turn someone?"

Zorin pauses. "You're losing focus, but okay. First, the person must be drained of blood."

"So you feed from them."

"Yes, but if they had lost blood another way, say an injury, that would suffice."

She stops her training for a moment. "Did you have to feed off me?"

"Yes. You were bleeding out, but I needed to speed up the process. There was an Angel there, after all."

She resumes the drill, performing a block, then a strike. "What next?"

"You feed the person your blood, often by cutting open your wrist. The Nephilim blood replaces the human, and the person begins to change."

"How long does it take?"

"It is different for everyone, but it often takes a while to awaken."

She finishes her form. "Zorin, if you knew where I could find the Angel, would you tell me?"

His face hardens. "I would tell you what you needed to know."

Her eGlass beeps at her ear and she pauses, pressing a button. Her AI speaks into her ear and Nightfall frowns. "Show me."

Nightfall feeds the link to TR and Trix and sets the display to public so Zorin can see it.

An image of an apartment building surrounded by Bruisers and Officers appears. The reporter speaks. "As you can see, the Zeniths have taken everyone in the building hostage, and the Inquisition has the area surrounded. The terrorists don't seem to be part of a known group. We don't know if any demands have been made—" Nightfall stops the video and speaks to TR and Trix. "We need to rescue the hostages," she says over eGlass.

"We can't go against Zeniths," TR replies. "Not publicly. Let the Orders handle it."

"I don't trust them," Nightfall says. "If Inquisition messes this up, both the hostages and Zeniths will die."

Trix speaks through the eGlass. "One of our guys has eyes on the area. Looks like the Zeniths have snipers at the windows. There's no way in."

Nightfall unleashes her wings and flies out of the Cathedral. "I'll find one."

Zorin follows her into the sky.

She explains her plan over the eGlass.

"You can't save everyone," says TR.

Nightfall doesn’t respond. She speeds up. Zorin speaks to her alone. “He’s right. Even if you save the hostages, you will lose support, and those who follow you will suffer.”

“I protect those who need protection,” she says. “Whether they follow me, or not.”

Zorin remembers the Nephylite girl at the Inn. What would she think of Nightfall fighting Zeniths like her brother? Would she still believe in their cause?

“We should turn back,” he says.

Nightfall stares at him for a moment. “Am I the leader, or you?” And she dashes forward, disappearing into the clouds.