Chapter One
Siban
lifted his chin toward the gray sky and inhaled. Crisp air filled his
lungs, clearing his head. The time had come for him to take his place
among his people, the Bringers. Past time, actually. They needed him in
the fight against the Demon Bane—a fight the Bringers seemed to be
losing.
He
exhaled and walked to the closest outbuilding. His hand hovered on the
cold metal of the door handle, his determination wavering. Could he go
through with the ceremony that would finally bring him to full power as a
Bringer? Perhaps if he hadn’t seen Luc’s conversion firsthand, hadn’t
watched the blade drive into his friend’s chest, and hadn’t felt the
life draining from Luc, he wouldn’t feel so anxious now. But there was
no turning back. Hopefully he’d be able to control the power that came
with being a Bringer Tell. Endowed with the Knowing, he would sense
things more strongly. Would know truth from a lie. Saints willing, the
darkness that still tainted his soul from his years of imprisonment in
the Demon Bane’s Shadow World wouldn’t grow stronger as well.
Chilly
wind whipped his hair, bringing with it the smell of fall and the hint
of snow. The sky echoed his mood. For a 4 year he’d been dealing with
the dark memories of being held captive the only way he knew how—alone.
But now he’d found Rell again and she needed him to be strong. He’d been
the one to change her mind about being put to death by one of the
immortal daggers of the Bringers. As the only weapons that could
vanquish a Demon Bane, it was the only way to kill her, but Siban
wouldn’t let that happen. For too long he’d grieved the loss of her.
Nothing would stop him from helping her survive the healing that would transform her from a Demon Bane back into her human form—and into a Bringer.
Inside
the building waited the other full-blooded Bringer warriors, newly
transformed and ancient, planning to face down Vile, the Demon Bane’s
King, and his efforts to overrun Inness with his Bane. No longer could
Siban avoid his destiny—or his past.
He
yanked on the door but the wind beat it closed again, as if sensing
his apprehension. He pulled again, this time opening it and slipping
inside. A cloud of warmth and the smell of lavender and sage enveloped
him. All eyes turned toward Siban, the Bringers’ conversation halting.
He closed the door behind him and exhaled softly, stilling his urge to
turn around and walk back out. Dozens of candles lined the wall and
burned on every available surface, lending a calming, golden glow to the
room. But the ambiance did very little to reassure him about the
impending pain he was about to experience.
“You came.” Rhys Blackwell, his best friend, approached and held out his hand. “I was afraid you’d change your mind.”
For
years Rhys had thought he was the only full-blooded Bringer left after
his parent’s had been assassinated by Vile. He’d roamed Inness,
protecting humans against the Bane and building a small army of
mixed-blooded Bringers, those whose bloodlines had been diluted by
humans. Thankfully, Rhys had recognized Siban for what he was and had
taken him in, even though he was tainted by the Bane’s evil darkness.
Since then Siban’s loyalty had never wavered. He gripped Rhys’s forearm
in a show of solidarity. “And miss all the fun?”
“My apologies for doubting you.” Rhys laughed and released Siban’s arm. “Come, Gregory has everything prepared.”
Gregory,
the King of the Bringers, met Siban halfway, a smile creasing his face
and brightening his eyes to the color of liquid silver. “You look like a
man facing his own execution.”
“It
feels a bit like that, yeah.” Siban scanned the room. Most of the faces
he recognized, but there were a few new Bringers he hadn’t been
introduced to yet. That could wait until he was through the
transformation. Siban nodded and exhaled. “All right then, let’s get
this over with.”
“Of course.” Gregory placed a hand on Siban’s shoulder and guided him toward a long wooden slab in the center of the room.
A
smaller table had been erected about four feet from where he was to
lay. A white sheet covered it. Siban stopped and stared at the form
pressed against the cloth. The outline was of a woman—Rell’s human form
lying in perfect repose.
“We thought your transformation would be easier if you remembered what you were fighting for,” Ravyn said from beside him.
“Thank
you.” He glanced at her. Ravyn watched him with understanding. She’d
already gone through the transformation to become a Bringer and
understood the risk. He looked back at the body on the table, refraining
from voicing the fact that the person on the table was a stranger to
him. His Rell was a Demon Bane with smooth green skin, leathery wings,
and small delicate horns. He released a heavy breath, pushing aside the
dark thought that he might not be able to accept her as a human. It had
been the demon who risked so much to help him escape the Shadow
World. Would the human female be 6 Boone Brux different from the demon
he’d fallen in love with? “I’m ready.”
“Remove your shirt.” Gregory turned to examine the immortal dagger lying on a small table.
Siban
slipped his tunic off and handed it to Ravyn. Shivers from the chilled
air ghosted across his skin. When Gregory lifted the dagger, Siban’s
heart began to pound. I can do this.
Ravyn
spread a linen blanket over the wooden slab and placed a small pillow
at the head. “Lie down, please.” She patted the table. “I promise we’ll
take good care of you.”
Without
replying, he slid onto the table and rested his head against the stiff
pillow. The blanket did little to cushion the hard wood pressing against
his back, though he doubted he would have been able to relax. Unsure
where to place his hands, he interlocked his fingers and rested them
against his bare abdomen. He shifted his shoulders, trying to find a
more comfortable position and ignoring the awkwardness of being
everybody’s focus.
Four
Bringers he didn’t know approached, each carrying two small sacks. In
evenly spaced positions they emptied the contents of the bags onto the
table.
Cloves,
lavender, and a piney scent rose up around the edge of the table. Siban
swallowed and stared at the ceiling. He mentally counted the dark beams
above, forcing himself not to watch the Bringers working around him.
Another shudder rippled through his body. Three months ago, allowing
somebody to cut or stab him would have been unthinkable. The nightmares
from his time among the demons still haunted him. He pushed away the
dark thoughts, unwilling to give them power over him. After having been
tortured with everything from talons to shards of rusty metal while in
Vile’s prison, Siban’s consent to be brought to full power was a
testament to his devotion to Rell.
It helped that he’d made
the choice and that Gregory’s action would be done with gentleness not
malice. Still, when the man turned toward Siban bearing the knife, it
took all of his self-discipline not to hurl his body from the table and
flee the room.
A
low, healing chant kindled to Siban’s left. The song flowing around him
was one of the most beautiful Siban had ever heard. Clear and pitched
surprisingly low, the notes resonated along his body and sent tingles
skittering along his skin. Another voice joined the melody, deeper in
tone.
The
light in the room shifted, altering Siban’s sight. Ribbons of blue and
white drifted from the Bringers, encircling them like lace, binding each
together. The lyrical composition surrounded him and burrowed under his
skin, winding its way to what felt like his soul.
More
soft voices mixed with the song, and the light from the ribbons grew
stronger, pulsing inside him and creating a halo of light around the
table.
Ravyn
and Rell’s sister, Jade, joined the circle and each placed their hands
on one of his shoulders. When Rhys and Ravyn had brought their friend
Luc Le Daun to full power, Siban had held his legs down in a similar
manner. Luc had fought them, almost escaping their hold. Siban wondered
how Ravyn and Jade expected to keep him restrained if his control broke.
The
two women joined the chant and instantly warmth flowed into his body.
Streams of light spiraled from their hands and entered his shoulders at
the point where they touched. Tension eased from his muscles, the mantra
lulling him into a relaxed state. Even when Gregory approached, fear
did not grip Siban.
“In
death there is life,” Gregory said, circling the blade in front of him
in a looping pattern. “In sacrifice, return.” Heat traveled down Siban’s
torso and his eyes remained steady 8 Boone Brux on the king. “All
barriers destroyed and evil be spurned.” Gregory lowered the knife and
laid the blade against Siban’s chest, directly over his heart. Despite
the relaxing chant, he couldn’t help but tense when the cold metal
touched his skin. “No hindrance remain, from our blood be renewed.”
Gregory dragged the edge downward, lacerating Siban with a shallow
slice. In an effort not to cry out, he bit down on his lower lip. The
metallic taste of blood coated his tongue. “That which was taken, settle
in those who Bring true.”
Fire
danced along the cut and Siban braced himself, waiting for Gregory to
plunge the dagger in his heart as they had done with Luc. Instead of
stabbing him, Gregory set the knife between two piles of herbs on the
wooden platform and placed his hands next to Ravyn’s. Again the king
spoke, but they were words Siban did not understand.
The
heat burning along the slice spread across his chest, eating up every
inch of Siban’s body. Searing pain ignited his organs as if incinerating
him from the inside out. He gasped for breath, but couldn’t inhale as
wave after wave of pain gripped him.
The
chant around him grew louder and more hands pressed against his legs
and arms. His muscles convulsed. It was as if his very soul was being
pulled from his body through his chest. He choked against the tightening
at his throat. His mouth opened in an effort to suck in air, but none
could pass.
The
words grew louder and above the unified chant he heard Ravyn’s voice.
Separate from the other Redeemers, she spoke the Bringer’s ancient
language. Her words demanded and coaxed the darkness from inside him.
His vision blurred and his head pounded as the need for air became
desperate.
Ravyn placed her hands on his forehead and raised her voice, shouting, “Avec mea!”
From
Siban’s throat rose a white vapor. It hovered a foot above his mouth
and then descended to cover his face. The sensation of being branded
scorched the skin under his lower lip. After a few seconds, the white
vapor evaporated completely. Siban gasped, drinking in the cool,
perfumed air, and collapsed against the table. All traces of pain and
the ribbons of healing light disappeared. The blood pounded in his ears,
and his heart raced. He waited, expecting another wave of agony, but
none came.
Gregory
stared down at him and then smiled. He touched his index finger against
the skin directly below Siban’s lower lip. “A Tell.”
The
spot burned and Siban flinched away, pressing the back of his hand to
the area and trying to numb the sting, knowing he now bore a the single
black line of the Tell. “Are you finished?”
“Did you want something more?” Gregory smirked. “Perhaps you would have preferred I plunge the dagger into your heart?”
Siban’s craned his head to look at Ravyn. “Expected, not preferred.”
Ravyn cleared her throat. “It seems actually stabbing somebody in the heart isn’t required to bring a person to full power.”
“That would have been nice to know.” Luc scowled at her and rubbed his chest.
She shrugged. “Sorry. If it’s any consolation, I did it to myself as well.”
Siban
struggled to sit up, spreading the herbs along the edge of the table
and knocking some of them to the ground. He looked at his chest. A thin
red line stretched from his sternum to his left side, but there was no
blood. “What was that white smoke? I felt like I was choking.”
“Think
of it as a net that encased your powers. Due to generations of Bringers
breeding with humans, the Bringer 10 Boone Brux essence within us
becomes bound. The ceremony severs that bond.” He pointed to Siban’s
cut. “It will be healed by morning and the only evidence of the ceremony
will be your Tell mark.” Gregory placed a hand on Siban’s shoulder.
“How do you feel?”
How
did he feel? It was difficult to put into words. New vitality hummed
through his body, as if a million tiny sparks had snapped against his
skin, leaving their tingling reminder. Even his head felt clear,
unfettered from the nightmares and dark thoughts that had been his
constant companion since his imprisonment in the Shadow World. “Better.”
“You are a master of the understated,” Rhys said, handing Siban his shirt.
“Thank you.” Siban slid the tunic over his head and shook his chin-length curls from his eyes. “When will you heal Rell?”
“Tonight.” Gregory placed the dagger back on the table. “That will give you time to rest. She will need all of our strength.”
“I will be there.” Nothing would keep him from Rell’s side.
“Good.” The king faced him. “I don’t foresee her transformation to be as easy as yours.”
“I’ll
give her whatever strength I have.” He scooted from the table. His legs
quivered, and he grabbed the edge of the wood in an effort not to
stumble. Gregory reached for him, but Siban waved him away and
straightened. “I’m all right.”
“Then
come to the house and eat.” Willa, Rell’s mother, stepped from the
shadows. Her white-blond hair glimmered in the candlelight and her eyes
sparkled with determination. “We’re all going to need to fortify
ourselves if we plan on saving my daughter.”
Though
he wasn’t the least bit hungry, under no circumstance would Siban
contradict Willa once she’d made a command. The woman was fire and ice
mixed into a tiny, unassuming package. He was fairly certain Willa would
have gone into the bowels of the Shadow World herself to bring back her
daughter’s body if Luc and Jade hadn’t beaten her to it. Such fierce
loyalty was a trait he understood and respected. He nodded.
“I am coming, my lady.”
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