Revealed in Fire by K.F. Breene
Epilogue
Cahal moved quickly,pausing beside a stone column as an elf flounced by, an absurd waste of movement for any creature, but ridiculous in a guard. It was no wonder he’d infiltrated the dungeons with very little effort. The elves had been mighty at one point. Fearsome but fair. He’d snuck into this place plenty, but it had never been this easy. No one had sensed his magic or his presence. Not one guard had so much as stiffened in unease.
Sheer numbers were the only reason they’d been able to capture a woman as promising as the heir, especially with those natural dual-mages at her back. It was the only explanation. The elves were ill-prepared for what they’d set in motion.
He slipped over to a shadowed doorway as his senses went on high alert. A smell reached his nose, coming from the way he was traveling—ancient but familiar, although he couldn’t exactly place it. His small hairs stood on end, and he knew it was someone with power. Someone dangerous.
Using his tools, he quickly and silently unlocked the nearest door and slipped through, leaving it open a crack so he could peer out. He wanted to see who haunted these halls.
Magic swirling, blocking his presence, he waited patiently. Reagan had been locked up for nearly four days. If she was going to crack, she would have done so already. She could handle a bit more pain so that Cahal could do the smart thing and see who or what was dogging her heels before he showed himself.
The being’s shadow announced it before a shape filled the archway leading to the cells within the bowels of the castle. It stalled, as though it sensed him.
He waited. It waited.
Finally, a shoe slid across the ground, a foot pivoting, grinding straw into stone. Light steps announced the being was moving forward, but it quickly stalled again. Flickering fire from a nearby iron torch holder illuminated a slight frame. Short, thin, petite—the woman stayed still again, unbothered by the patrol that should’ve been walking through about now. The elves were ineffective, but at least they were punctual. It was nearly all they seemed to get right.
Cahal recognized her about the same time as she clearly recognized the presence she felt.
“She has mighty friends, it seems.”
He remembered that silky voice, dripping lust and passion and things humans could not resist. Thankfully, he was not human.
“Ja.” He didn’t bother moving from behind the door, and she didn’t turn in his direction. There was no need. “You are not someone I would’ve expected to see down here.”
“Nor I you. You must have a fascination with the heirs of the Underworld.”
“For the magic.” Specifically, he liked watching the heirs learn to use the full range of their magic, but she didn’t need to know that. Knowing her, she’d somehow figure out a way to make that work against him.
“Yes. It is magnificent,” she replied. “As is its origin.”
“Is that your play in all this, then? You hope to regain access to one of your homes?”
“We all long for our homes in the end, do we not? Except for those of us without homes, of course.”
It was a dig at him. This vampire had always been one of the most cunning power players in her species. She’d navigated times that had made a quick end of other strong people, magical or otherwise, a journey made harder by being female. Sometimes the social realities of that had slowed her, but they’d never stopped her.
“And what is your play, Mr. Shadow?” she asked. “Or do they call you Eliminator now?”
“I have many names.”
“So you do. As do I.”
He paused for a moment, carefully collecting his thoughts. “You have set me on this journey, by contracting me to her friend, and allowing me to witness, firsthand, her power,” he finally said. “The power of Lucifer’s heir. I am bored with my long years. I might as well walk the path for a while.”
“The path of the righteous?”
“The path of the forsaken. It’s more interesting than that of the righteous.”
She laughed. It was an answer she might’ve given herself. When Ja had approached him, he hadn’t needed to do his homework on her. Before she’d semi-retired, he’d watched her maneuverings, surprised when she’d taken a step back, not at all surprised when she’d burst back onto the scene.
“Why are you here?” he asked her. “She is not with you, so clearly it is not to let her out.”
“Oh my, no. If I did, how would she learn?” She laughed again and continued forward. “Good luck, Mr. Shadow. I’m sure I will see you again.”
He rather hoped not.
He shut and locked the door behind him and then hastened down the hall, flitting through the shadows. A guard lay dead in the center of the floor behind two cells, the prisoners within long since dead, nothing but bones now. The neck of the guard had been torn out. Ja had wanted to make a show, ensure the elves knew a vampire had been down there.
He slowed for a moment.
Had Ja known he would be coming to rescue Reagan? If so, she might be trying to set the stage to make it look like the vampires were the ones who’d broken in, killed everyone, and then rescued the prize.
No, that couldn’t be it. She hadn’t known right away who was waiting in the shadows. If she’d been expecting him, she wouldn’t have paused for so long. She was not a showy vampire, like Vlad, but all vampires liked to play with their food. It was in their nature. She would’ve made a quip or two about being way ahead of him.
…how would she learn?
He shook his head and continued on. He was not clever enough to figure this out, not with so little information.
A man sat in the last cell on the right, ribs clearly showing and wiry muscle lining his nude form. He sat hunched over propped-up knees, his head hanging low.
Another guard lay half in and half out of the doorway up ahead, the door standing open. Heavy wooden doors lined the other side of the hallway, closed off, darkened, single-person cells designed for confusing the mind. Food would come at random times, sleep would be interrupted, random water tossed in, and the prisoner would be kept in continual darkness unless he or she was being tortured. That treatment would break someone. Most of the time, anyway.
“Hey,” Cahal whispered, revealing himself to the man in the cell.
The man didn’t move, staring at nothing.
“Hey,” Cahal repeated, raising his voice.
Still the man didn’t look around. Spit dribbled out of the side of his mouth. His mind was gone. He wouldn’t have noticed the vampire, probably, and if he had, he likely didn’t have enough sense to coherently remember what she’d done here.
Cahal moved on, stepping over the guard and quickly checking behind him. There shouldn’t be a change-out for another hour, at least. Food had come not long ago. The torturers had already been here twice. He should have a big window here, but one could never be too sure.
Within the second part of the dungeon, he had to but smell his way to the cell he needed, following the scent of fresh blood in the stagnant air. Last door on the left, charred and leaning awkwardly, with a few chunks taken out at the bottom and a hole burrowed through the top. They didn’t look like escape attempts, but the result of a temper.
“Reagan,” Cahal whispered, no idea what he might find beyond that door. Not really wanting to find out, if he was being honest. He’d been tortured for a year, but never with such vigor. He didn’t know if he could stand seeing her like the man in the other cell. “Reagan?”
“Knock, knock…” came the reply.
He heaved a sigh of relief.
“Who’s there?” he answered, working at the lock with his tools. He didn’t want the elves to know what manner of creature had broken in. When he locked it back up after they left, there would be zero evidence of how she’d gotten out.
Except for the dead bodies with their necks torn out by a vampire.
He paused and looked down at the lock. Once he’d been good at this. He was clearly rusty. He was helping Ja frame vampires…if that was what she’d set out to do.
“Orange.” Her voice was weak and scratchy. He could barely hear her through the wood.
“Orange who?” The lock clicked over.
He dropped one of his tools on the ground. They’d now know it was a burglar, not a vampire. That would confuse them a little. Maybe upset Ja’s plans. She was too cunning for her own good. All vampires were, but she was worse than most. Her intelligence made him feel like an amateur.
“Orange’cha glad you’re not the one in here?” A wheeze of laugher floated out of the cell, followed by a wet, hacking cough. “Ow.”
He grimaced as he pulled open the door. A long, low groan issued from the wood.
“They keep trying to repair it.” Her voice hung heavily in the liquid darkness. He could barely see her form in the corner, like a body dumped there after it had been dismantled. “I kicked it in when they were bringing me in here. That confused them. Then I kicked it out after I killed two of their guards. They swarm the place like rats, though. Can’t get past the buggers. Too many.”
“How you doin’? You good?”
“Oh sure, yeah. Fucking amazing. How are you doing?”
He pushed the door open wider and brought in an unlit torch from the outside wall. “Can you light this so I can see what I’m working with?”
“Take a deep breath, bud. I am not the same girl you saw last time. Also, can’t you see in the dark?”
“To an extent. This is beyond—” He lost his words when the torch flared to life.
She sat on the cold stone nude, deep blue and purple bruises covering her body, broken by bloody slits and spots where they’d torn off chunks of skin. The bone on her lower right arm stuck out through the skin. Her left hung limp from what looked like a badly dislocated shoulder. Her right eye was swollen shut, and her right foot at an unnatural angle. On her right hand, not one finger was lined up correctly.
“How’s my hair?” she asked, her head resting back against the stone wall smeared with blood. “I didn’t get a chance to style it today. The elves have kept me busy. So sweet of them to visit so often. They don’t seem to like my jokes, though. Probably because I make them at the elves’ expense, huh? Sensitive fuckers.”
Cahal knelt beside her, at a loss. He hadn’t thought there would be this much damage. Not so soon. They were clearly trying to fast-track the process, a sure way to kill someone rather than break them.
“What are they after?” he asked, leaning closer to her chest to see if there was any rib damage that might indicate internal bleeding.
“Oh…you know. Nothing much. Just my life story. Very nosy, these elves. They seem to think I’ll tell them my history. What dopes, am I right? At least they didn’t cut anything off. Awfully hard to heal it if it isn’t there, know what I mean?”
“Yeah. I do.”
“Right, yeah, I forgot. You know the deal. Another day in paradise. Not sure I’d want to do this for a year, though.”
“I didn’t have it as bad as this. Not all at once.” He couldn’t help his breath hitching. “Not even close.”
“Nice. I win. Where’s my prize?”
“Here’s what we’re going to do…”
“Crack everything back in place so I can heal it up—eventually—and then run me out of here, I hope?”
“Yes. It’s going to hurt like hell.”
“Nah. It’ll hurt worse than that.” Her bleary eye came to rest on him. “I am really, really glad to see you. Did you know that the elves can dampen a vampire bond?” He grabbed hold of her pinky. It was as good a place to start as any. Crack. “Elephant dongs in a singalong! Damn it, I sound like Penny.” Crack. “Holy fuck tarts!” She breathed through the pain. “Anyway, turns out they can dampen a bond. He’s there, I feel him, but he’s so muffled that I can’t feel any emotion from him. Don’t worry, I will kill the king and queen for that. Mess with my limbs? Not good, but we all have our issues. Mess with my bond to Darius? I will rip your head from those bony shoulders and shove it up your ass.” She paused as he tackled the rest of her fingers. “Just as soon as I can work my limbs, obviously.”
“At least you’re in good spirits.”
“Yeah. I was singing bottles of beer on the wall through the last session. They really hate that song, it turns out.”
The ground beneath them rumbled. The walls groaned. A push of air disturbed the stuffy silence.
Cahal paused, her shoulder in his hands, listening.
Somewhere in the castle, a large load of power was sinking into the very foundation, tremoring through the stone.
…how would she learn?
He turned back to Reagan in a rush. “We need to go for ‘good enough’ and get you out of here.”
“Why, what is it?”
“Someone you’re in no shape to meet.”
* * *
Lucifer blewoff the front face of the castle, sending stone and brick raining down. His subjects erected a ceiling of air so he could pass through the debris without being struck. His subjects hurried out in front of him, all different forms, ghastly creations that had been forbidden to show their faces in this poor excuse for a castle.
Elves rushed toward him from the front hall, only to fall back again.
His black, feathery wings snapped out behind him, filling the hall, the edges raking down the walls. Fire pulsed around him, burrowing into anything wood, flames roaring in his wake. The ground shook as his subjects joined their power with his, their magic tearing off doors, pulling down chandeliers, scraping up the floors.
“In the dungeons, sir,” Victoria said, flying in her demon form in front of him, half his size and adept at handling tight spaces and ghastly surprises.
He tore the next door from its hinges and threw it aside. With an extra little boost of magic, it tore through glass, brick, and mortar. Through the archway, which he’d left intact for his subjects to rip down, he let surprise hinder his step for a brief moment.
The large room, two stories with a viewing balcony, had been utterly destroyed. Huge, gaping holes punched through the left wall and the ceiling, clumps of destroyed stone littering the floor. Columns lay in ruin, and half the balcony had been torn down.
“Your daughter, sir,” Victoria said.
Pride welled within him, and he laughed. “Finish the job,” he said, turning.
At the narrow steps to descend into the dungeons, he felt the unmistakable power of the king and queen. He turned to the right, waiting to see if they would present themselves. His subjects crowded around him, ripping and tearing, making clear what he thought of this insult.
The king’s voice reverberated through the chamber. “She has committed grievous infractions within our kingdom. She should be hanged. She was spared solely because she is your heir. Your actions today, however…”
The threat lingered, though the king did not step through the doors. He did not intend to confront Lucifer face to face.
A smile stretched across Lucifer’s face.
“My actions today serve as a hint of what is to come. Brace yourself, you sniveling coward. You have no idea what your actions will unleash.” He glanced at Victoria and thought, Tell them to cover me, and then follow me down. Leave the rest up here.
He descended, closing his wings with a snap, letting the fire follow him down. A body littered the ground, the neck having been ripped out. A vampire had visited, then, and clearly not one under the employ of the elves. Vlad?
A man in a cell looked up as fire crowded the room, his eyes wide but glazed, responding to the light. There was nothing behind those eyes, his mind utterly gone. He would never come back from this. Only the primal part of him still remained, and that part wasn’t enough for any sort of action. This man was waiting for death.
Lucifer stabbed him through the forehead with air, a merciful killing. “Find out who he is and deliver him to his people. Inform them of what the elves did.”
He stepped over another guard, killed the same as the last. He moved down the hall, passing closed doors. Only one of them, the last on the right, was open. He slowly walked toward it, anger burning within him. If the vampires had taken his daughter with anything other than the intention of delivering her…
He stopped in the doorway and changed into his humanoid form. Cahal the druid rose from a crouch, his expression flat.
A woman sat at his feet, and a pang hit Lucifer’s heart so fiercely that he nearly staggered, nearly rushed to her, nearly commanded his subjects to go to war right then and there.
He knew her face, though he’d never seen her up close. Knew her poise—her challenge—even as she sat bleeding on a stone floor. Knew her magic, since it was his own. Knew her potential, because he could see her strength. She would not break, this woman. Not from life, not from the elves, not from anything.
“You are Amorette’s daughter,” he said, and it wasn’t a question. He could see Amorette in the lovely face covering that hard edge. In her obvious stubbornness. In her immediate ability to wrap him around her little finger, even if this time it would be as a daughter does a father.
“Hey, Pop. Nice to meet you,” she said with a wheeze. “I’d get up, but I’m in the middle of something.”
He laughed. Though her voice was weak and scratchy, her confidence could not be misinterpreted. Her swagger, her blasé attitude, even while suffering a pain so great it dulled her gaze…
“She reminds me of you, sir,” Victoria said, peering over his shoulder. “And she is already speaking our language, even here.”
“I learned when I was in the Underworld. Somehow. That was me, by the way. In the Underworld.” Reagan grimaced, trying to keep sitting, but gravity was pulling her down. “Surprise…”
“Yes, I’d gathered,” he responded, a feeling of lightness coming over him. Also an urgency to ease her pain. “Give me a moment, and we’ll get you cleaned up. I assume you can wait?”
“Yeah, sure, why not. I’m not in incredible pain or anything. Better yet, why don’t you head on back to the Underworld, and Cahal will take me out of here as planned.”
“Can’t, I’m afraid. I’m using you as an excuse to start a war. I’ll need to take you with me.”
“Super. My day keeps getting better and better,” she grumbled.
He grinned. She was delightful.
He eyed the druid before shifting to the druid language very few knew existed. It was the language the druid had turned to when he was praying for strength those many long years ago, alone in his cell. And he had found it. Those accursed, meddling angels had stuck their noses in and hardened his resolve. Lucifer hadn’t known then that the druid was a favorite.
“How interesting to find you with another of my heirs,” he said to the druid.
“I was recently hired to protect a mage. Your heir is the mage’s good friend. I knew Reagan’s magic instantly, and have kept an eye on her since. I trained her as best I could.”
“You trained her…”
“As best I could.”
“Interesting. Angels again?”
His brow furrowed. He didn’t speak.
Lucifer laughed, long and low. “Ah. They have forsaken you, have they? Just like humanity. Pity. Well, Sir Darkness, I am indebted to you for helping my daughter. Will you come with us?”
“Yes. But not as your ally. I will attempt to keep her from going the road of the last.”
“Ah, but you see, that makes you my ally, Mr. Shadow.”
“Until it does not.”
“Leave the riddles to the vampires. They are better at them.” Lucifer waved his finger behind him. “You tried to frame them?”
“No. That was not me, and I don’t know why it was done, quite frankly.”
“But you know who?”
“Will you torture me to find out?”
He tsked and turned toward his daughter. “You bore me, druid. Torture was my last son’s hobby, not mine. I just kill and be done with it. But you have some uses, and so I will forget your involvement in his death. It would’ve happened anyway, I see that now. You merely…sped things up. No, let us look to the future, shall we? My heir will be crowned the princess of the Dark Kingdom, and together, she and I will tear the rest of this castle to the ground, and maybe the Realm with it. It is time for the Underworld to rule all the magical land below the clouds. One day, maybe the clouds as well, who is to say?”
He wrapped Reagan in numbing ice before bending for her and lifting her gently. “Go to sleep,” he told her softly, “and when you wake, the pain will be gone.”
“But my nightmare will be just begun,” she mumbled softly, and her eyes fluttered shut.
***
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