Chapter Six

The Journeyman stood on the edge of the road, the demon princess at his side, the wolf on the other.

“Well?” Bryae wasn’t patient. “Where is she?”

The wolf, who hadn’t relaxed since they had first encountered the Soul Stealer, growled across the Journeyman’s legs. “Wait,” she snarled, ears lowered.

The Journeyman frowned, and opened his eyes. Putting a comforting hand on the wolf’s head, he turned to Bryae. “She’s someplace safe from my sight,” he said, sounding almost relieved. He knew that they both had different purposes for finding Keaira, the daughter of Queen Lila. Although he had heard the tales and seen the results of Lady Bryae’s soul stealing, he trusted her enough when she told them that her days of such dark magic were over.

Bryae sighed, and ran a hand through her red hair. She was a demon of great power; appearing almost human with pale skin, brown eyes, and teeth that only seemed unusually sharp. Her ears, of course, were pointed and long, but she had no fur, or claws, which most demons of lesser power had.

It had been rumored, not long ago, that Lady Bryae was the strongest demon in the southern lands, save for the enslaved one that the Mage had captured.

The Journeyman was willing to believe this, for he had never set eyes on a demon as strong as her. Even the current queen of the demon lands had nails thicker and pointier than humans’, and wore her hair down, in order to cover her slightly bent ears.

“I can’t wait for her to step outside of the safe boundaries,” the demon said finally, moving towards her mount. She glanced over her shoulder at the Journeyman. “You have been a great help, none the less.”

The Journeyman watched as she swung herself onto her horse, and carefully made her way across the road, before crossing to the other side.

The wolf seated herself, and turned her head up to the man beside her. “She isn’t going to find the girl that way.”

“No,” the Journeyman agreed, seating himself. “She is well hidden.”

He sat by the roadside for a while, watching silently as a well guarded noble rode down the road, surrounded by dark magic.

The wolf bristled, but neither made a sound until the last guard was well away.

“Necromancer,” the wolf growled, baring her teeth. “Dirty thing.”

“I have to wonder what one was doing so far north,” the Journeyman murmured, rising to his feet. “There isn’t much on this road in the direction they came from.”

“I don’t like it,” the wolf admitted, sneezing as a whiff of the dark magic blew their way. “He shouldn’t be this far north.”

“Which of the three was it?” The Journeyman asked, glancing both directions down the road.

“The middle one,” the wolf replied, her lip curling. She was not fond of the trio; especially not after the damage they had done in her homelands, far to the west, and the raising of the dead that they’d begun on larger scales, once funded by the queen.

Necromancers came in triads. This the Journeyman had learned, before the rise of the queen, and before the rise of her armies. As the years passed, and Lila’s interests turned to a fascination with the dark magics, the Triad of Necromancers rose into power.

“Let’s go,” the Journeyman said finally, turning his head over his shoulder to glance at the Barren Lands far behind them.

They stepped over the road, and hurried across it. The bricks shone beneath their feet, symbols glittering in the shadows, lacing the road that spanned the kingdom with the dark magic of Queen Lila.

000

Keaira couldn’t understand what Zirrach had been talking about. There was nothing unusual about the Library of Thousands, at least, nothing that she could see. They had paused at the door- Zirrach swore that if she took another step without his permission he’d – he had inserted quite a few rude words at this point- kill her.

The walk from the gates to the front doors had been uneventful- for which Keaira was hugely grateful. She was curious, though, why Zirrach was so apprehensive.

Currently, he was staring at the doors, arms crossed, his eyebrows narrowed.

“We need a name,” he said finally, glancing at Keaira. “And don’t you dare move.”

“A name?” Keaira asked, confused. “But- we already have names…”

Zirrach rolled his eyes. “Why do I even bother?” he asked, turning back to the door. “Our names obviously aren’t the right ones.”

“…Oh,” Keaira said, falling silent. She hated feeling so completely stupid, especially alone with Zirrach, who obviously despised her. There, was, however, little that she could think of that would help her understand. She’d tried to get Zirrach to explain, but he wasn’t willing to, which left her clueless.

Zirrach was annoyed. His patience had been thin for quite some time, and this felt like the final straw. He didn’t know what would happen to them if they couldn’t get into the Library of Thousands… and he certainly wasn’t willing to find out.

He hadn’t anticipated that either of their names wouldn’t work, his name had worked last time (Kennan’s hadn’t worked, but he used Zirrach’s and Rave’s) but he knew that he needed one quickly. The guardians of the Library of Thousands came in many different shapes and bodies, and most were not friendly to outsiders.

“Looking for a name?”

Zirrach turned quickly, pissed off that he hadn’t even heard the person coming up behind them.

Keaira stared. The voice belonged to a boy, a few years younger than herself, who was wearing an atrocious large, striped hat, that seemed to have a flower and stem attached to the top. That was not the odd part, however, that got Keaira to gawk. Instead of regular ears, two cat ears perched on either side of his head, poking through the brim of the hat, and a long, feline tail was draped ceremoniously across his arm.

“Who are you?” Zirrach demanded, pushing himself in front of Keaira, and staring hatefully down at the cat-boy.

The boy grinned. “Now that would be telling,” he said, chortling. He bowed, and removed his ridiculous hat, revealing a bush of ginger-brown hair. “I have a name that will work.”

Zirrach rolled his eyes, and grabbed the front of the boy’s shirt, dragging him closer to the door. “Well say it already,” he growled, dropping the boy, and pulling Keaira back (she was almost too close to the door again).

The boy scowled over his shoulder at Zirrach, but grinned as his eyes landed on Keaira. “Are you a prisoner?” he asked her, his eyes flickering back to Zirrach. “I’ve heard that some demons take girls and turn them into their personal whor-”

“Just say your stupid name,” Zirrach growled, interrupting something that Keaira probably didn’t want to hear anyway.

The younger boy chuckled, and put his hand on the wooden door. “Dante Hathen’est Coranien.” It opened, and the boy leaped inside. Keaira was pushed in by Zirrach, who slipped inside before the door closed on them.

“So you’re from Hathen,” Zirrach muttered, eying the cat boy again. “What in the seven hells are you doing here?”

Dante giggled, almost girlishly. “Accident,” he said, hopping around Keaira. “Accidents happen, you know, you know.”

“Nevermind,” Zirrach grumbled, rolling his eyes, and grabbing Keaira’s wrist. “Let’s get going.”

“What about me?” Dante wondered, pausing in his dance to stare at the two of them.

“What about you?” Zirrach asked, annoyed. “You managed to get here fine. Go find someone else to bother.” He didn’t wait for a response, and turned back to Keaira, who, for the moment, was better than a cat-boy. “This part is important,” he said, frowning as her eyes grew wide. “Keep on walking, don’t talk, and…” he paused, trying to remember the rest. It had been a while ago. He couldn’t remember. “Just don’t talk,” he repeated, pulling on her wrist.

Keaira nodded, stared at the dark, shadowed entranceway, and wondered why the Library of Thousands inside didn’t look anything like how it did on the outside.

Zirrach, who wasn’t about to admit to anything of the sort, was terrified.

He knew what lay behind all the doors in this room, because he’d done it once before, and after he had gone through the Hall, he promised himself, shaking and crying, that he’d never go through there again.

“Times change,” he muttered, smirking wryly. Good god, he thought, I am going to die.

Keaira, two steps behind him as he led them to a door, was thinking much different thoughts. She glanced over her shoulder at the cat-boy, Dante, who was standing where they had left him, staring at them with wide eyes.

“Um, Zirrach,” Keaira said, her voice shaking a little as Zirrach scowled at her over his shoulder, “Uh… can we bring him along… um… if it’s ok with you… it’s just that I don’t…” she trailed off as Zirrach turned his annoyed look from her to the boy.

He was silent for a few seconds, remembering that’d he’d been younger when he had to go through the Hall, and finally, he spat on the floor. “Fine,” he growled, turning back around. “Just keep your mouth shut, Cat.”

Dante bounded over to them, and latched onto Keaira’s free arm, staring up at her thankfully, but not saying anything.

Maybe it was his look that got to Keaira. She hadn’t been frightened (just nervous) until that moment, when Zirrach pulled open the door, she saw the terror in Dante’s eyes, and she realized that it was far too late to go back.

oo

Keaira walked.

I am standing in the orphanage. The other girls are around me, laughing at jokes, sharing the current gossip, some are laughing at me.

“Keaira,” her name’s Rosie, and I’m not sure if she actually is this tall and this beautiful. As she speaks, laughing and mocking me, she becomes even more beautiful, until she’s a mixture between Aphrodite and Cleopatra, the ultimate seductress, powerful. Her hair ripples under the shifting lights of the orphanage, bright, gorgeous. The ceiling’s high above me, and I know that soon, it’s going to fall.

“Keaira,” Rosie says, placing a heavy, cold hand on my shoulder, “I know that you’ve been here longer than half the nuns, but really, dear, you shouldn’t get such an inflated image of yourself.”

She’s saying this as the people around her worship her as their queen. She’s right, of course.

“Keaira,” this time it is another girl, the one that no one really likes, but I know that they like her better than they like me. Her eyes are red and she has grown bloodstained claws. “You’re a worthless piece of shit,” she tells me, laughing. “No one wants you around any more.”

I know that this is true too, but as I watched, the world expands and shrinks, until I’m alone in a forest, and something is following me.

“Don’t be afraid,” a woman says, but I notice that she looks like me, and that she hates me. “I’m not going to hurt you, dear,” she says, but she is going to kill me, and I’m certain of that.

She has caught me, and pinned me to a cold stone slab, and her hand is around me neck. I can’t breathe. “Every one says the same thing about you,” she tells me, and she’s someone different now, but she’s still herself. “They say that you’re ugly,” she laughs and sounds like the ravisk. “They say that you’re so pathetic and weak that you really don’t deserve to take up space anymore.” Her smile grows and grows, until she looks like the Cheshire Cat, leering down at me, while she chokes me, her hands tightening. “So really,” she continues, her voice farther and farther away, “I’m doing everyone a service by killing you.”

I wanted to yell, and be rescued, but I stopped myself, because I knew it wasn’t worth it.

No one would want to save me anyway.

oo

Zirrach walked.

I’m drowning.

Again.

As I struggle against Rave’s arms, which are pushing me under the surface, I can hear her laughing. “How do you like the feeling of that, Zirrach?” She asks me, laughing as I try to pry her hands off my shoulders. “Don’t you like not being able to do anything?”

Of course I don’t, but I’m not stupid, and I know that I can’t say anything, or they’ll fucking kick me out, and Kennan will kill me for not protecting his stupid little daughter.

I’m scared.

I’m bruised, and leaning against the wall, trying to hide from them. I can hear them shouting, not too far away, and I groan, clutching my eye. One of them had good aim, and a rock.

“There he is,” and I look up, to find that they’ve surrounded me.

I try to kill them, to smite them down with my magic, or at least hurt them, but my arms are heavy, my mind can’t remember how to concentrate, and they have stones.

One hits me in the cheek, and another rock in the shoulder. God, it hurts, but I can’t do anything.

I’m powerless.

“So what did Kennan tell you about your band?” They were younger now, crowded around him.

I stopped myself just in time from talking, and instead waited, as another voice spoke up. “You’re his slave now,” Rave said, laughing at me. “You’re nothing more than a pathetic little slave.”

I doubted what Kennan had told me. Was I really a slave?

“You can’t do anything,” Rave told me, pushing me into the river. It was winter, and the water was too cold.

“You are powerless,” Rave whispered, pushing me under the water. I couldn’t do anything.

She was right.

oo

Dante walked, but the dreams avoided him, noticing the pendant around his neck, and the promise of the librarians that he would be kept safe. He hadn’t believed her, when the youngest librarian slipped the pendant over his head, and promised that he’d find safety here. “The Thousands won’t bother you,” she had said, glancing over her shoulder as another cry went up, and something exploded. At the time, they had been in danger.

“You have to run, little cat,” she had told him, helping him to his feet, even though she was the one who was hurt. She told him to run- he had wanted to stay and fight- but she had made him promise.

He still wasn’t sure if she’d survived.

In front of him, the demon and the girl walked, trapped in the dreams, and he noticed with some concern that the girl was crying. Their eyes were open, and they were moving, but neither seemed to be in this world anymore.

They reached the door, and Zirrach pulled it open with his free hand. The other one had moved from Keaira’s wrist to her hand, and both were white. Dante noticed that Keaira was clutching his hand too, and he was thankful that he didn’t have to endure the same test.

He stepped through the door, closed it, and jumped when Keaira screamed.

00000

00000

A/N: Ooh! How exciting!

Um, yeah. I’m not sure what to say about this chapter. I liked it well enough, although I got the nagging feeling like there was too much ‘death by suffocation’ going on. Hmm. Right. That sounded a little creepy… (chuckles). Um, I’m working on Chapter Seven, so we’ll see when that one gets updated.

Any questions? Comments? I’d LOVE to answer them in my next a/n, next chapter! Huzzah! Just ask in your review, and I shall respond. Thanks for reviewing… I love comments and criticism!

Thea