Darklight 7: Darkfall Page 11

  My ears pricked up. "So, you've been using your connection, enhanced with magic, and a visualization of your destination to guide you through?" That sounded similar to what Dorian and I had done to travel in the Higher Plane.

  "It seems to work," Arlonne replied, hesitant. "I've never relied on these skills before. We never needed to before the tear got so bad. It felt more like instinct. Now, I have to think about where we're arriving and then use my senses to guide us to a safe landing spot. When we sent the last few groups in, they got lost for hours.” She flexed her own prosthetic hand for good measure. "But someone is bound to get lost inside for good. Each crossing seemed to further damage the barrier. It feels like it's simultaneously expanding and collapsing."

  Collapsing. The stormy tear above me flickered with energy. Lightning crackled wildly, teeming out from the edges of the tear, but it never struck the ground. It wouldn't be long before the tear sucked up the training camp. I eyed Ruk cautiously, unsure how much I could say in front of Arlonne.

  "Maybe you can get a sense of things, when we get up there?" I asked him. He was staring at the tear with a melancholy air, his lavender eyes tracing the way it broke open the sky. It was his work, but it had been completely destroyed. Even after nine hundred years, it had to sting.

  "We'll see when we get up there," he said. His gaze flickered to Sen, who was peering inside the mouth of a redbill, almost to the point of sticking her head in. He sighed and walked over to help her not get her egg-like head snacked on. I turned back to Dorian and Arlonne, who walked closer to Drigar. Arlonne petted Drigar with her metal arm, showing off the limb’s dexterity and ability to produce gentle movements.

  "What was your last trip through the tear like?" Dorian asked her. Arlonne's eyes lit up as she remembered. Although she took this diplomatic mission seriously, Arlonne was a born fighter. Action mattered to her.

  "Like getting lost in a sandstorm, but the sand was the weather." She glared up at the tear. "Every day, I watch this stupid thing eat up more of the sky. It's merciless. Bryce says it looks worse from the Mortal Plane, but I think it's bad no matter where you look at it."

  Bryce. The last I’d seen him, my ex-captain from our days in the Bureau had been injured, with his arm in the sling. "How is he?"

  "Good as he can be, in that aging human body," Arlonne replied dryly. "He told me to say hello whenever you returned. He never doubted that you would; he said something like, ‘Those two are so stubborn that not even death could stop them from coming back to have the last word with Irrikus.’ His arm is doing well. It's healed and out of the sling. He's been working all throughout his recovery to find the original board members and develop ways to track revenant attacks. In his spare time between not sleeping and dodging what you humans call a physical therapist, he's always calling Morag. She wants to establish a Bureau-like organization as an ally in Scotland. I have to say, if there's anyone who could do it, it's those two."

  It was wonderful to hear that Bryce was okay and still making trouble. I’d worried about him being on the first trip through with the vampire refugees, but everything had worked out in the end. It made me happy to know that he and his sister, Morag, were working together after being reunited.

  “I’m glad he’s back in action in the Mortal Plane,” I said. “Thanks for looking after him.” The faintest warmth came to Arlonne’s eyes. It was no secret that there was something going on between them, in the most subtle yet gruff way. I hoped they could see each other again soon.

  Our brief reprieve was broken as Ruk and Sen came back, with the redbill they’d chosen in tow. Arlonne surveyed our group, a frown crawling across her face. The happiness from discussing Bryce was gone.

  "You impressed me with your tricks the other day, but I'll trust you even more after you prove yourselves to me on this journey," she said bluntly. It was the only way Arlonne knew how to talk. “Good luck in the Mortal Plane.” Arlonne's shoulders squared, and she handed a small magical comm to Dorian. It had a distinctive, gem-like look to it. I admired it in the palm of his hand before he placed it in his ear.

  "Reshi can only spare two," Arlonne told us. "I'll take the other. It's possible that we will be separated during the crossing, so I encourage you to use it if you need it. Don't mess up." The last part she said with her own version of rough affection.

  Dorian and I mounted Drigar while Arlonne took the front redbill. Sen and Ruk easily settled on the back of the third, who chirped happily when Ruk scratched the back of his neck. I raised an eyebrow. It had taken me a lot more time and effort to charm Drigar. Was Ruk a redbill whisperer now?

  "Once you take their form, you know the spots they can't reach," Ruk whispered, catching my eye. I smiled at him but said nothing as Arlonne whipped her arm into the air. The redbills, obviously trained, followed the faint whistling sound and took off one after another like small airplanes.

  The speed hit me hard at first. It had been a while since I’d ridden a fast-moving redbill. Travel in the Immortal Plane was so weird in general that it was hard to acclimate. After the first few minutes, I found my balance again as we settled onto Drigar. I glanced back at Ruk and Sen, who were completely stable on the back of their redbill, as if they'd been riding them all their lives. The sensation of redbill feathers pricked my skin as I settled one hand around Dorian's waist and one gently into Drigar's back.

  The camp disappeared behind us as we flew up into the darkness. The tear grew closer and closer until it took up all my vision. My stomach twisted with dread at the sheer size of it. The hairs on my exposed skin lifted with the change in pressure around us as we flew farther into the chaos.

  “Hold on tight,” Dorian told me.

  The crackling lightning grew louder and louder in my ears until it nearly drowned out the steady wind whooshing past us from Drigar's speed. I tightened my grip on Dorian and focused on Moab.

  That's where the original tear was closest to, a city unfortunately lost to an Immortal assault. Irrikus had used the tear to send powerful creatures from the deepest depths of the Immortal Plane into Moab. I’d fought the empty swarm that originally decimated the city, but the attacks had only escalated after that. The Bureau camps were forced farther from Moab temporarily, but the monsters couldn't get through the tear anymore. Unfortunately, Irrikus didn't need to send beasts anymore. Now, the revenants were the ones doing the damage in the Mortal Plane.

  I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore the eerie sensation as the air charged around us with static electricity. We passed through the first dark, stormy clouds on the outskirts of the tear, which came with a sour smell. The lightning crackled. Drigar let out a disgruntled squawk but followed Arlonne and her bird dutifully. I glanced back to look for Ruk and found him scowling as he looked into the tear.

  And then, we were inside the awful thing. A buffeting wind struck my face, and I lurched to the side. My heart in my throat, I did my best to balance myself, but the winds were far too unstable for me to guess which way they would blow next.

  “Hold on,” Dorian called over the sudden turbulence. Drigar fought the wind as it pushed him to the side. He righted himself, trying to find the easiest current to glide through, but it was impossible. The wind whipped around us like a tornado.

  Arlonne let out a loud snarl, which floated around me like a ghostly whisper and then tumbled away. My vision gave way to darkness for the moment. Passing through these clouds reminded me that they were nothing like the clouds in the Mortal Plane. Everything about the tear felt heavy. The scent of ozone burned my nostrils. I fought the urge to cover my mouth, knowing that I needed to steady myself.

  Concentrate on Moab. We needed to get there. The smell of rancid leaves and copper struck me next. I held back a gag and forced myself to think of Moab. I didn’t know if it would do any good, since I didn’t have magic, but it couldn’t hurt.

  The winds shook us from side to side like pebbles thrown around inside a jar. I dug my knees into Drigar’s sides, apologizing silent
ly as the poor bird maneuvered through the mad winds. A gust of new wind brought the smell of smoke along with it. I coughed as a haze of charcoal soot floated in front of us, forcing me to pull my shirt over the lower part of my face. A stream of flames whipped past us. Dorian stiffened and tried to keep stable. Drigar swerved around it, and it vanished as fast as it had appeared. Forces pushed and pulled us from every direction.

  God, what the hell is going on here? I looked around in the chaos to see Arlonne trying her best to keep her bird steady, but she disappeared in some of the leftover smoke. I looked to the side and saw orange. I nearly screamed about fire, but the orange lightened to a soft amber color.

  Souls. Thousands of souls bobbed and sank in the swirling mass of winds, like bottles thrown about in choppy waves. My heart yearned to help them, but there was nothing I could do. Those poor souls used to be living and breathing beings, but they were trapped in an endless dance in this chaos. They circled away from the path in front of us, disappearing into more amber light like water down a drain. It had to be the Mortal Plane in front of us.

  Lightning cracked beside me, making me jump. Ruk and Sen sat up straight on their redbill. The strange lightning concentrated on them. A bolt struck Sen, and I gasped, but she maintained her composure. Their redbill rushed to keep up as another lightning bolt came for Ruk. He batted the lightning away with a snarl.

  "Dorian, Arlonne," Ruk yelled. "I need your help. Try to move us forward using your connection with the barrier!"

  Dorian nodded as another wind sent us all bobbing in the air. My heart slammed in my chest as I felt Dorian tense beneath my grip. I repeated Moab to myself like a chant, hoping that even my human intentions might somehow help. The swirling center in front of us turned to a flat white light.

  The force batting us around had changed its mind. It wanted us out. I cried out as a wind suddenly swept us forward. Dorian trembled beneath me, trying to keep his posture rigid. I fought against the force to avoid leaning on him. He needed all the concentration he could get.

  The winds spat us out. The lightning no longer targeted Ruk and Sen. Thank goodness. That can't be healthy, even for arbiters. Drigar shuddered from fatigue, but he flew mostly steady through a haze of black clouds. Gradually, the amber light gave way to the exterior storm outside the tear. My shoulders slumped with relief as I finally allowed myself to lean against Dorian. His heart hammered so hard I could feel it in his back, and as I watched, a bead of sweat trailed down the back of his neck. A hazy landscape broke through the gradually fading clouds. We flew out into a gray sky, and…

  Bleak mountains greeted us. I sucked in a frustrated breath. We were not in Moab. Dorian slumped against me abruptly. I held him up as best I could. Flying through the tear had never tired him like that before, but this journey was much rougher. I searched his face with concern for signs that he was unwell. He was probably exhausted from using his connection with the barrier. "Are you okay? That was insane."

  He gave a weak nod. "Where are we?" His eyes were only half open as he turned toward me, our faces close together as he leaned back. My muscles were sore after the flight, but Dorian had used much more energy than I had, and I was determined to support him. He rarely needed it.

  Arlonne growled and pressed a hand against her head from exhaustion. Somehow, she managed to escape some of the effects of using her connection with the tear, perhaps through more experience with the tear in its chaotic state. She and her redbill swung toward us as we flew over the strange landscape. "We're in Death Valley, not the Canyonlands. I've flown around enough while scouting to recognize the mountains in the distance. We're not far from our goal, but we're not as close as I hoped." She studied Dorian. "Do we need to stop?"

  Dorian struggled to sit up, and I helped him. "No. Let’s continue."

  "The tear really is unstable. It’s like nothing I could’ve imagined,” I said to Arlonne. “Thank you for your work.” She paused for a moment but turned her face toward the landscape in apparent acceptance. Sweat coated her face.

  "We got through. That's what matters," she said.

  Ruk and Sen flew beside us. Thankfully, they didn't look singed except for the ends of their robes. Sen examined the ashy edges of her sleeves with great interest.

  Ruk's grave frown sent a jolt of dread through me. "I wasn't expecting it to be so bad," he admitted, and shook his head. His redbill flew closer to Drigar, looking much happier to be away from the lightning and back in the open air. "Our fight to get through may have damaged the barriers and brought them closer to melding. On the other hand, Sen and I were able to absorb a lot of energy, from all the loose energy in the tear." Was that what those lightning strikes were about? I’d worried about them, and they were eating. I wanted to laugh.

  Sen glanced back. "It's interesting, the souls being thrown around in the tear. They don't seem to be making it through anymore." Her observation made me shiver. The image of the souls being tossed around like flotsam would never leave me.

  "We're headed to the LA Bureau campus," Arlonne called. "Shout if you need a break." She muttered something to herself, like “Moab would've been more convenient,” but it would all work out.

  Dorian leaned against me for the rest of our journey. It took two hours on our exhausted redbills, but I was happy to do it. Eventually, the city and the LA Bureau HQ slowly came into view. I recognized it easily from the sky because of the airstrip and the layout of their organization's campus. A sigh of relief left my lips. It was the last place I saw the members from our side who stayed in the Mortal Plane. A reunion would be in order. I smiled to myself as the redbills landed.

  A group of low-ranking Bureau guards ran forward to greet us. I helped Dorian down, getting ready to tell them that we needed a room to rest in, when one of them shoved a rifle in my face.

  "Paperwork for the vampires and the freaks," the guard barked. "Or I'll arrest every single one of you."

  12

  Lyra

  I looked down at the gun in disbelief. "You can't be serious. There must be some mistake."

  "Papers," a second guard demanded, his angry brown eyes glaring at Arlonne. She sneered at the man. "Unauthorized vampires are to be apprehended and processed for execution." The other guards were transfixed by Ruk and Sen. Their red and blue skin tones stood out in the Mortal Plane.

  “I don’t think we have a procedure for aliens,” one of them muttered.

  My heart raced as I processed his words. Execution?

  "I'm with the Bureau," I insisted firmly. This was a stark reminder of how things used to be with the Bureau. There was no reason, surely, for the guards to be so violent. Processed for execution? It was Alan all over again. Remembering the old board’s vicious ways made me sick to my stomach. Dorian glared down at the men. The third guard, a clean-cut youngster, averted his eyes from Dorian to Ruk, who merely raised an intrigued eyebrow at the unfolding fiasco.

  "Where's your identification?" the brown-eyed guard asked, as his colleagues kept their guns on us. He dropped his weapon and held out his hand expectantly with a scowl. My ID? I searched my memory for the last time I'd seen it. It was probably at the bottom of my pack, buried underneath weapons and old rations. Not sure that's what I want him to see me pulling out. My belt holster enough was cause for the younger guard to eye me warily.

  "In my gear bag. You'll notice it's Bureau-issued," I pointed out coolly. "We're with Captain Ruiz. You can ask her." He ignored my plea to call Ruiz and made a motion for me to hand my bag over. I slowly raised my hands in the air and slid the bag off my back. He stepped forward and began rooting through my gear. He pulled out one of the stone knives and glowered at me. I had only kept one on my belt for the trip, since I wanted to keep my belt light.

  Sen cocked her head and stepped forward. The guards started, training their guns on her.

  "Stop," the young one shouted. The brown-eyed guard glared at Sen but continued his wonderfully invasive dig through my bag. A pair of underwear landed among t
he stone knives. I groaned inwardly. What a welcome back to the Mortal Plane.

  "The metal machines feel cold and lifeless," Sen muttered in a tone of casual observation, and blinked twice. She wore a slight smile. "I'm afraid that your weapon won't work on my kind, but it's awfully cute. Very modern looking, like something Krysh might make." The young guard screwed up his face in confusion at Sen's nonsense.

  "The blue one is making this worse," Arlonne said with a grunt. "We could—"

  Dorian cleared his throat, covering up any suggestion Arlonne had. "We'd like to speak with Captain Ruiz, please. She knows us."

  "I told you to be quiet," the brown-eyed guard snapped. He still hadn't found my ID card. I clenched my jaw anxiously as footsteps caught my ear. “And she’s Commander Ruiz now.”

  "Stand down, soldiers. I'll take it from here," a man commanded in a voice that carried. I turned to see Captain Gomez hurrying up to our group. His blond hair shone bright in the sunshine on the tarmac. "This group has no doubt just made their way through the tear, so they don't need any more hassle."

  The soldiers put down their weapons to salute the captain as he came up. "Yes, sir." The brown-eyed one glanced down at my bag. He'd finally found my old identification card with a hole through it, signifying that I was no longer with the Bureau. He gave me an apologetic nod. "Sorry about this, ma'am." His voice had the faintest edge of a southern drawl.

  Ma'am. Once he would’ve called me Captain, but without an official position within the Bureau, I was rankless and faceless as far as the soldiers were concerned. I was lucky Gomez came in when he did. Pressing past how strange it was to be treated like an enemy by the Bureau again, I muttered a peaceful thanks as the soldier placed my things back in my bag.