Page 67 of Ever Dark Academy: Volume 6

You should have seen him take out the two guards outside. He became three people. It was incredible, Eyros told him, his voice stronger.

“Now, are we done here? Or do you want to continue to insult me?” Charlie asked her.

“I–I–no, no, of course not! Forgive me!” Gloriana begged.

“A Mirryr? Gods, that’s worse than being taken down by a Siryn!” Charlie’s disdain was written large. “Or, a Helm.” He shook himself with disgust. “I should eliminate you just for thinking such a thing was possible and use your soul to light a room that no one ever goes in.”

“Forgive me,” she pleaded.

“I forgive no one,” Charlie hissed, but he did not kill her.

The skeletons, which appeared to be all under Charlie’s control somehow, yanked the Vampires out of their path so that they could walk past the Kaly Vampires easily. Grayson’s eyesight suddenly shifted and he could see the blue-white threads that bound soul magic to the skeletons. Those threads all led to Charlie. But he noticed that the threads were started to grow dimmer.

He can’t keep this up for long! Grayson realized.

Death is yours to control, Ashyr.

Just as they reached the next corridor, Grayson saw the control of the skeletons leave Charlie. But somehow, Grayson caught the threads and his other gift–his Ashyr gift–kept them standing.

Tell Charlie to pretend to release them, Eyros! Grayson cried.

But–

Just do it!

Grayson felt sweat start to pour down his face. Ryder’s “face” showed a growing alarm.

Charlie stopped at the intersection to the next doorway. He turned around and gave the Kaly a cold smile. He then sneered and moved a hand through the air dismissively. Grayson dropped the skeletons and they clattered into piles of bones and weaponry. Charlie had made it seem that Artemis had simply undone the magic in disdain. Without a word, Charlie strode forward again, chin lifted, smile on his face, totally unconcerned while they followed quickly after him. Grayson breathed heavily.

How did you do that, Grayson? Eyros asked.

Death is yours to control, Ashyr.

I–I don’t know. But I can’t do it again anytime soon. We need to get out of here, Grayson told him.

No worries. The gate to Lasting is just half a block away from the ziggurat’s back door from what I can tell, Eyros assured him. And don’t worry, it’ll be unlocked and I’ll be waiting for you on the other side.

Alone

Earlier…

Eyros waited by the gate to Lasting. Alone. He held himself still even as he wanted to pace. It was not like him to spend useless energy. Better to remain seated–or even lying down, if possible–instead of standing or, gods help him, moving about aimlessly. A cup of blood wine near one hand. A favored Acolyte by the other. His most amusing and interesting Children nearby. That was how things should be. But he stood by himself instead with no one and nothing to comfort him. He rather wondered if since the other Immortals had been killed–or in the case of Mirryr, gone away–whether it was a more honest assessment of his true state.

Had he felt any genuine pleasure since this madness of the War? Or had he instead felt a sickness spreading through him? Old hurts had created new ones. Too much blood and death. He had thought he did not need the other Immortals. He had far superior company in his own people. But having spoken to Ashyr, Weryn, Wyvern and Mirryr had been… invigorating. More than that.

He had felt something frozen in him start to warm. He shouldn’t have been so eager to help them. He should have shut Ashyr down immediately. But he hadn’t. And now, here he was, waiting to help them. He was going to let them into his city with his people even though they had been his enemies not that long ago.

This is foolish. Yet I am doing it.

The wind stirred his long hair. It flattened the crimson shirt against his chest and his black pants against his legs. He wore no shoes. He curled his toes against the cool grass and moist earth. As he shifted his weight slightly, he felt the long blade, Serria, slide across his back. The ruby in its hilt was, in fact, a soul gem. Or he suspected it was.

But, regardless, the blade had chosen him and he would use it if he needed to against any bloody Kaly Vampires that would try and get into Destiny. Could it be that the blade knew that one day he would have Kaly blood running through his veins too? Was that why it had called to him? In any event, he would use it if he had to now that he was unlocking even a single gate into Destiny.

Why am I doing this? It is unwise.

He let his eyes go unfocused. He could feel Ashyr’s heart beat slow then fast then slow again. The turning of his body was fascinating to experience this way. It was different than it had been with his own Children. From human to Vampire was like seeing a light shift from red to blue. But Ashyr was different.

There was this sense of awakening, recovering, igniting. Ashyr was still weak as a kitten, but he was turned. He’d made it. Artemis was overcome. For now. But would they make it here? He’d promised to open the gate and he would even though that meant reigniting the hostilities between himself and the Kaly slices once more. He’d hunkered down. He’d battened down the hatches. Where had that phrase come from? Regardless, it was true. But doing this would start up things all over again.