Descent (Unbound Prophecy Book 2) Read online

  Tynan turned and faced them. Black tendrils seeped from under his cape, his eyes were as black as Sinow’s, but there was something else there. The Dark power he possessed left a faint red tone to the visible aura around him, seeping into those tendrils. His eyes had a frantic look to them that spoke to the insanity within. A Dark king was to be feared, but a mad king was to be avoided at all costs. Once beyond that line of sanity, there would be no going back, no longer any morality to his actions. Nothing but violence and blood would satisfy his lust. Keary had heard the stories of the few mad kings in their history, but stories did nothing to prepare him for what he saw in Tynan. Kanine had been right, the power that came from him was tainted, fouler than Sinow’s had ever been when he was lost to the Darkness. Even to a Darkbearer, Tynan was terrifying.

  “He finally found a way to go after her, didn’t he?” Tynan continued. “It took him long enough, but my patience paid off. With Sinow gone, do you know what that makes me?” He paused, but Keary knew what he wanted them to say, and neither he nor Kanine was going to give him the satisfaction. “That makes me King!”

  Keary looked over at Kanine. He was the only one who’d ever been under control of a mad king, and Tynan’s every word screamed madness. He was entirely changed from the man Sinow had banished centuries before. Looking at Kanine, he expected to see fear, but all he found was defiance. Keary remembered Kanine telling him once that those who turned their loyalty from Sinow’s grandfather to his father, Drostan, felt a pull from that control. Their new loyalty allowed them the ability to defy their king in small ways that had laid the ground for Sinow’s birth. Keary had suspected that had been the reason Kanine had never spoken the truth of Violissa’s heritage. It had been his way to fight back, the one thing he could do in a time when things had seemed hopeless. Keary had no loyalty to Tynan, and he knew no others on the Council would. His loyalty lie with Sinow as it always had. The reach of Tynan’s king’s blood called the Darkbearer in him, and it ran deep. He knew, however, that there was a way to deny that call, there was a way to remain loyal to his true king. As he thought about it, he felt his breath ease slightly and the Dark taint of Tynan’s power ebb from his soul. He would defy Tynan with every breath and protect the realms until his true king returned, even if it killed him in the process.

  Five

  Sinow looked through the window longingly at Violissa. He had been there all night, and here he remained, waiting and watching as the final minutes went by. He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. It was so hard to sit back and do nothing, but that was what he would do this time. In past lives, he had banged at the door to get in or chased her down as she fled. In some lives, he’d even been dragged away from her, fighting with every bit of energy to reach her. He had never given up, even knowing the consequences. This life, however, he would not fight. In this life, he would watch what happened when he did nothing.

  Curse the Fates for their trickery. No, he couldn’t blame them completely. They’d tried to warn him, but he’d been too impatient, too young and headstrong to stop and listen. He hadn’t realized the true extent of what they’d meant. Hadn’t realized how deep the spell had wound itself through her mind, through her memories, warping them into something completely new. Every life was the same. With no memory, yet driven by the prophecy, they would meet and fall instantly for one another. There was no way to escape the magnetic attraction the prophecy caused, even in this world of no magic. It was woven too deep through their souls and hearts for anything other than that to happen. The power of their bond too powerful to stop, they would make love, their all-consuming need for one another too intense to avoid their destinies, their mortal forms too weak to abstain. Upon waking, their memories would return, but hers were layered in mistrust and doubt. Warped by the Darkness of the spell Tynan had cast, she would only see what the spell wanted her to see. Only see the terror of the war on her people, the Darkness in Sinow’s soul during that time. Only see Sinow casting the spell at her and her Council. No memory remained of any good moments in their history, even the brief few they’d had. No memory of their kiss. The spell manipulated her memories, distorted them, leaving her no memory that she ever loved him. If it were there, it lay buried so deep that she couldn’t seem to bring it back. Most frustrating of all, there was no memory that they’d ever been through this play so many times before.

  Three days. Three days had seemed an eternity when he’d closed his eyes that day in her castle, but now he understood how short they truly were. So here he sat, not wanting to watch the inevitable but needing to see how it happened. She looked so beautiful sitting there. She had perched herself in a seat next to the window across from where he was hidden, her silhouette outlined against the sunlight that poured through the window creating an angelic shine to her golden locks. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, and she’d been crying. Was she crying from the memories of those final moments in their world? He didn’t know, but he did know that he couldn’t assume the tears were for him. If he went to her, she would run, just as she had each time before. The clock hit its first strike of noon, signaling the end of the third day, and his stomach lurched in anticipation of what lie before him. With each strike, he took her in again, trying to fill himself of her before she was ripped from him once again. He placed his hand on the window and waited, pain tearing through his heart. On the last stroke, she picked up her head and looked directly at him. For a moment, there was recognition in her eyes, a longing he hadn’t seen in centuries.

  “Sinow?” she mouthed. Then he watched as she slowly disappeared before him. Watched as the things in the room disappeared, then finally the house itself. He was left standing in an empty field, no trace that she had ever been there. She would be moved somewhere out of his reach, hidden from him, her memory wiped away once again while his was left intact to bear the pain of his loss for the years to come. He breathed in deep and caught the slight scent of lilac then closed his eyes and prayed she would live a short life this time. It was selfish, he knew, but he didn’t think he could stand another long life that meant year after year of yearning for her, of searching every inch of this world, and never finding her.

  Six

  Keary waited at the tree line, masked in the dark of the forest. He glanced around nervously, hoping this meeting would go unnoticed. Come on, he thought impatiently. If Tynan found out, he would be forced to go into hiding. Tynan already mistrusted him; he suspected his loyalty was to Sinow, suspected that his control over Keary had been severed. If he hadn’t been so distracted with his vengeance, he would have realized none of the Darkbearers were fully under his control, their loyalty to Sinow stronger than Tynan’s call of king’s blood. Without the full power of an ascension behind him, the connection had been weak to begin with. Sure, it had been strong enough to force them to do things they regretted but not for long. Now, none of them obeyed him, they were simply all too clever to let him see that.

  Once Tynan had claimed the throne and the kingdom, he had turned his attention to Cirillia. Keary and the other Council had tried to fight him as much as they could, but they were bound by their obedience to their king, and Tynan was now their king. As much as they tried to defy him, they suffered with every step. The Lightbearers were already weak from Violissa’s absence, and as was common knowledge, they were not fighters. Tynan tore through Cirillia, burning villages, decimating towns, until he finally came to Violissa’s castle, demolishing it in one sweep so that all that remained were piles of rubble. Now the Lightbearers were trying to hide as many people from Tynan as they could. They used magic to conceal them, moved entire villages into the forests for cover, and tried to thwart him every step of the way. With his attention set on destruction, Keary and a few of the other Council had been trying to help the Light Council as much as they could, which was why he was standing here now. They had come up with a plan but needed the help of the Light Council to bring it to fruition.

  Daneele shifted in with Cyric, and Keary breathed a sigh of relief. He had sent the message hoping they would receive it, but not positive it would hit its mark. Seeing them here was affirmation that it had.

  Keary pulled his hood down and greeted them. They both looked weary. Life had been hard since Tynan had taken the throne. The Lightbearers had been fighting for the lives of their people, and it had been a long, difficult fight, one which the Darkbearers could only help under cover of night or risk Tynan turning on their own people.

  “Keary, what news have you?” Cyric asked.

  “Kanine has an idea. He thinks we can hide your people and ours. Protect them from Tynan.”

  “That’s what we’ve been trying to do to no avail,” Daneele said, a frustrated tone to his voice.

  “I know, Daneele. We’re doing all we can, but...” The call of king’s blood was so hard to explain to anyone other than a Darkbearer. No one would understand the loss of self-rule, the loss of identity one felt under Tynan’s control. King’s blood was the connection between the king and his Council, and it was unbreakable. It enforced the code that king lived by, and it forced the allegiance of the Council whether they believed in the king or not. There was no choice; they gave that up the moment the Fates called them. Sinow and his father had never chosen to force their Darkbearers to go against their will, an act that was rewarded with a loyalty that could not be broken. Tynan, like his grandfather and others in his line before them, took their will away, which in turn caused rebellion. But that rebellion was slow. It meant breaking away without Tynan’s notice and since a king could feel a Council’s doubt and hesitation, it was not an easy task.

  “It’s hard to explain, but trust me, everything we can do is being done. Now, Kanine has an idea. I don’t have much time, so please bear with me. He thinks we can make the Banished Realm a place for those who want to be free of Tynan’s tyranny.”

  “The Banished Realm? That’s on Tenebron’s most western border, Keary. How will we ever shepherd people that far?”

  “We will shift them. Now, we can work the details out, but he needs to know if you think this will work, Cyric. He wants you to remember the spell the Elvin gave your Council when the boundary between Cirillia and Tenebron was formed. The one that hid the Lost Realm.”

  “That was millennia ago, Keary.”

  “I know, I know. He thinks it can be used to fortify the Banished Realm and make it a haven for those who want to escape Tynan. He believes that the same spell can be manipulated to fit what we need and to keep Tynan out.”

  Cyric’s eyes drifted away as he contemplated what Keary had told him. Keary could see that he was trying to think through how to make it work.

  “What does he have in mind?”

  Keary breathed a sigh of relief and started talking.

  Daneele watched as the boundary flickered with color. The black of Dark magic collided with the blue haze of Light magic as he continued to pour his power into it. The chaos was clear only to the Council positioned strategically around the magical boundary that separated the Banished Realm from the rest of their world.

  That should be enough, now pull back, he heard Cyric say in enaigne. He lowered his hands, stopping the flow of power then yelled over to Kanine, “Pull back,” knowing the Dark Council hadn’t heard the command. Kanine did so and must have sent the message through enaigne to them. Daneele watched the boundary try to soak in the chaos of the two opposing powers.

  They were taking a huge risk, but there was no other choice. When Sinow left, things had deteriorated quickly. Tynan was a force no one had anticipated. His strength and power were on the level with Sinow’s, and none of them understood where it had come from. The only thing they knew was that his power was corrupt and vile, tainted worse than even his grandfather’s had been. He had been quick to go after the Lightbearers, who had tried their best to protect their people. But Lightbearers were not fighters, and they were no match for Tynan. They were also slowly losing their power, a fact Tynan learned quickly and used to his advantage. Daneele had felt it begin dissipating not long after Violissa’s disappearance, and he missed the full feel of it. He still had power, but there was a noticeable difference now. Thankfully, Tynan’s control of the Darkbearers was weak.

  One by one, they had turned their allegiance, one he never truly had from them, until today they stood fighting side by side with the Light Council in one last attempt to protect as many people as they could, both Tenebron and Cirillian alike.

  They had been sneaking people out of Cirillia and into the Banished Realm since the day Keary had told them about Kanine’s plan. They weren’t positive it would work, but they all had faith. Together, they were combining their power in the spell Cyric had remembered from the days of the last king and now were attempting to seal the realm from Tynan. The spell had been manipulated to allow those with good intentions and those who needed help to enter, but none could leave. They had divided the Light Council, leaving half to help the refugees establish their new homes. The other half would remain in Cirillia, staying out of Tynan’s sight to sneak people over to the new land. They knew they wouldn’t be able to save everyone but would do what they could, heal who they could heal, and bury those who needed to be buried.

  Daneele watched as the powers continued to fight one another until they suddenly combined, creating a dark purple haze that coated the sky, touching down to the ground in a domelike fashion. Then, just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished. He could make out the flicker of magic from the boundary but no more.

  Kanine looked at Daneele. “Is it done?”

  They felt the ground bellow as if something large had dropped on it. Tynan had finally arrived. Daneele was surprised he hadn’t come earlier, but they had put a few things in place to preoccupy him. Apparently, he’d grown bored, and their activity had finally caught his attention.

  “We’ll see,” he replied, waiting. A bead of sweat ran down his face as his heart rate picked up in anticipation. He was tired of fighting, they all were. He missed the old ways, missed his queen. At first, they had all tried not to think about it, had instead preoccupied their minds with the search for her as a way to keep from grieving her loss. After Sinow left, they had fought against Tynan, delaying the grief even more. Maybe it had been a good thing, Sinow had believed she was still alive, trapped somewhere. Daneele had begun to doubt it until the day Sinow vanished. That day had reignited the hope in him that Violissa would one day return. He still had faith in the prophecy, still had faith that Sinow and Violissa would fulfill their destinies.

  Daneele watched the boundary quiver as Tynan attacked it repeatedly and sent a prayer of thanks to the Fates when it didn’t cave. He couldn’t see Tynan, but he heard the roar of frustration. The quivering increased, and he suspected Tynan was furiously hitting it with everything he had, but the Fates were with them today. The barrier remained intact.

  They were safe, for now.

  Seven

  Sinow watched as they dragged her to the pyre. She struggled to break free, but it was impossible. The four large men held her too tightly. He could feel the bruises their hands were leaving on her skin. Not that it mattered; she’d be dead within the hour. Part of him wanted to save her, wished he had even a small amount of his power just to punish them for daring to even think of touching her. He wanted to rip apart the coarse binds that held his wrists and crash through the wooden cage that held him. His need to do so tore through him as he watched their angry faces. Words like witch and devil’s whore were being hurled along with the stones he felt pelt her skin as each one hit its mark. All this because the boy in the front row was jealous that she’d chosen Sinow when he’d wanted her all this time. Of course she would have, she’d had no choice. Their fates were aligned, and this was their chance meeting in this life. Not even one day had passed since their memories had awoken.

  There was another part of him that wanted to just let it happen, not worry about the useless struggle to save her. He only had two more days to convince her he truly loved her. So many lifetimes now, and he had yet to succeed. What was it the Fates had said? Something about the spell manipulating her memories? They were right, no matter how hard he tried; he couldn’t get her to see what had truly happened. She hated him each time she woke. It was getting tiring, and he dreaded every long life that followed. Years of searching for her only to come up empty-handed. He should just give up and wait for the cycle to start again. He’d be reborn and have another attempt to convince her. This punishment the Fates had given him was worse than anything he could have imagined. The incessant longing for her went unfulfilled, leaving him with a constant thirst for her.

  Yes, part of him knew if he just let them kill her, the clock would reset, and they would both be reborn once again. That would be the easiest way, but he wouldn’t let that happen, he would fight them until his last breath. It wasn’t in him to stand back and watch an innocent be murdered, especially when it was Violissa. She was his, and he would keep fighting for her, just as he had, life after life, no matter how much heartache it caused him in the end.

  The flames began to rise around her feet. It was amazing she hadn’t screamed out in pain yet. She was a queen to the very last. He could feel the scalding on his skin just as if he were standing next to her, her pain in death always his. He began to throw himself against the cage, hoping he could somehow undo the binds and break the bars before it was too late.

  “Violissa!” he screamed to her. She turned a tear-stained face to him, all defiance gone from her. His skin burned, the pain growing as hers did. He could endure the pain, but he knew she couldn’t. She held her head back and let out a blood curdling scream as the flames wrapped their way around her body. Her screams only strengthened his resolve and despite the pain that ripped through him, he slammed the wooden cage, breaking through before they could stop him.