The Dark Lands (Angelbound Origins Book 5) Read online

  I take in a calming breath. “Hey, guys.” Ever since the Boudoir of Striga, I’d been thinking about how to organize this talk. “I’d like to start things off.” I scan the room. Everyone gazes toward me with expectant faces.

  Guess that means it’s all yours, Myla.

  “Here are the facts,” I begin. “Walker’s brother, Drayden is at risk.”

  My father leans back in his chair. Every line of his face is etched with shock. “Walker’s brother is alive?”

  I nod. “Walker only found out about Drayden a few days ago. Since then, Walker’s created a plan to save his brother. If the rescue didn’t work, then this watch…” I tap the device on my wrist “…would start a countdown.” Raising my arm, I show off the watch face. The temperature seems to drop twenty degrees as they read the little screen.

  Twenty hours, forty minutes, fifty seconds.

  Silence descends. The air turns heavy with worry.

  “Here’s the deal,” I explain. “I promised Walker that Lincoln and I would help if worse came to worst and the countdown started. Well, time is now ticking. Both Walker and Drayden need our help. Is everyone in?”

  A chorus of yes-es sounds around the table. Excellent.

  “In that case,” I continue. “Our best bet is to find Drayden before the countdown ends. I’m thinking that wherever Drayden is, Walker can’t be far. Each person here has a little piece of the story. Let’s start with the watch. It might have gotten brok—”

  My thoughts shatter as an igni music festival erupts inside my head. This isn’t a cool rock concert, either. The dark igni are now in my brain, giving off a chorus of screechy feedback. Within the noise, I make out some words.

  Prison.

  Lucifer.

  History.

  I throw up my hands. “Quiet down, guys. You want the history of Lucifer. I got it. Now buzz off.” And the igni actually leave. Where was this support when I was getting crushed by Inferno? No idea.

  Lincoln sets his hand gently on my shoulder. “Another message from your igni?”

  “Yup, it seems they have their own ideas about our conversation.” I pull on my ears, as if that will somehow let the memory of the dark igni noise ooze out of my head. “Dad, can you start things off by giving us a history of Lucifer? The igni especially want us to know about his imprisonment.”

  My father fidgets in his chair. “If they insist.”

  “Believe me,” I counter. “They do.” In a show of support, my tail pops up over my shoulder. The arrowhead bobs up and down, which is its way of saying yes. I pat the end. “Thanks, boy.”

  Dad straightens the lapels of his suit. “Luce and I were close for ages. Then the Almighty created new forms of life, namely humans, quasis, thrax, and ghouls. All angels were instructed to help these new beings. Luce refused. He saw any non-angel as an abomination and ...” Dad lowers his head. “Luce refused to—as he put it—degrade himself. I can only imagine how that sounds.”

  Mom leans forward until her gaze catches with Dad’s. “Lucifer’s opinions are not yours. We all know this.”

  “Thank you, Cam.” My parents exchange a small smile before Dad continues. “Luce was a good man before hatred ate him up inside. Even worse, Luce spread his rage and recruited other angels to his cause. Together, they called themselves the Brimstone Legion and began a holy way against all non-angels.” My father sets his palms flat on the tabletop. Even from a distance, I can see how his hands are shaking. “Countless innocents were killed.”

  Another long stretch of quiet follows. Dad’s shaking worsens. My poor father. Clearly, Dad’s having a hard time with this story, so I give him a small prompt. “I think I know what happens next,” I offer. “You and the archangels put Lucifer into prison.”

  “That’s the story,” explains my father. “The truth is more complex. We archangels tried to kill Luce many times. For archangels, we can issue a formal challenge for a one-to-one duel.”

  My father doesn’t talk about Lucifer, but archangel challenges are another matter. They’re conducted with specific rules of honor, including a mutual spell to ensure no one cheats. The battle can be to the death or to decide a dispute. Either way, the results are binding.

  “We engaged Lucifer in challenge after challenge. Each time, the stakes were the same. If we won, Lucifer would disband his Brimstone Legion for a hundred years. If Lucifer won, we would allow his legion to cleanse the world for a hundred years.” Dad’s eyes fill with sorrow. “There are eight of us outside of Lucifer. Eight times we tried to defeat him. Eight times we failed. And that meant nearly a millennium of carnage.”

  “Luce was our king and trained us all,” continues my father. “He knew our every move before we could make it. Defeating us was all too easy for him. Still, the bloodshed had to stop. In the end, I was forced to rely on subterfuge.”

  A memory appears. I picture the pure loathing on Inferno’s face as she called my father a liar. Perhaps this is what she meant. If so, I don’t consider that lying so much as stopping innocents from getting killed. Stupid Inferno.

  Mom sets her hand atop Dad’s. “I can tell this part if you like, Xav.”

  “No, I want everyone to hear this from me directly, especially Myla.” Dad raises his chin. “Luce believed that I would never lie to him, so I used that faith to our advantage. I issued a challenge to Lucifer. One more duel, just him and me, and to the death. We would meet in the Dark Lands. But I never left for the battle. The nine seraphim went instead.”

  Cissy tilts her head, making her blonde ringlets bounce. “I don’t know much about seraphim.”

  “You’re not alone,” I add.

  “They’re mages and high-level angels,” explains Lincoln. “One of our thrax houses is dedicated to their memory.” He gives me a pointed look that says: guess which one.

  I meet his gaze and nod. Victoriana, aka the one Walker was sneaking off to visit.

  “There were nine seraphim,” continues Dad. “Just as there are nine archangels. Lucifer went to the battlefield, just as we agreed. He also brought his Brimstone Legion along so they could witness his final victory. So it became Luce and his Brimstone Legion against nine seraphim. Luce still thought it was a battle worth having. You see, only a full blooded archangel can kill another archangel.”

  Dad takes in a shaky breath. “Yet the seraphim’s plan wasn’t to kill Lucifer. Instead those angelic mages cast a spell so strong, their magic killed the entire Brimstone Legion as well as the seraphim themselves.”

  “Ah, I understand why they perished,” says Lucas. “Truly great magic always requires a sacrifice to match.”

  “Yes,” says Dad. “Through their deaths, they created spell that destroyed the entire Brimstone Legion while locking Luce away forever.”

  Silence follows. None of us seem to breathe. What a story. At last, my father speaks again.

  “At my request, the specifics of Luce’s final prison were hidden from myself and the other archangels. We don’t even know what spells the seraphim cast in order to kill the legion and imprison Luce. You see, strange as it may seem, all of us still love Luce in our own way. If we knew where and how he was imprisoned, we might eventually give into the temptation to see him.” Dad chuckles, but there’s no humor in it. “Luce is so persuasive, he could talk the cold off snow. It’s still a good thing I don’t know where he’s being kept. Is that enough for your igni?”

  I raise my pointer finger and look around the room. “Does that work for you guys?”

  Blessed silence is my only reply. I’ll take that as a yes.

  “The igni are good,” I say. “What do you know about Lucifer’s Gauntlets?”

  “As I said, Luce trained us all for battle,” answers Dad. “The gauntlets were a part of that. They were bracers, a kind of protection for your forearm. Lucifer’s were made of gold and fashioned with a pattern of angel’s wings. If you wore them, you could touch someone’s chest and pull out their magical powers. The abilities would be stored in
some kind of magical jars. I don’t remember the name.”

  “Canopic jars?” offers Lucas.

  “That’s right. It was temporary, of course. Luce pulled out our powers during archangel battle practice. That forced us to fight as regular mortals and improved our skills as archangels. After battle training, Luce gave us our powers back.” Dad leans back in his chair. “I saw the segment on Good Morning Purgatory. Based on what you’ve told me, the Viper must be using the gauntlets to steal other people’s powers.”

  “That’s right,” I confirm. “Drayden is the key guard over Lucifer’s prison. The Viper stole the power to make ghoul portals, snuck into the prison, and poisoned Drayden. That’s the countdown. It’s how long Drayden has left to live.”

  “Walker went to cure Drayden,” adds Lincoln. “But something must have gone wrong. Myla and I suspect Inferno, the lava angel we met in Purgatory. The Viper used Lucifer’s Gauntlets to raise her from the dead. However, when Inferno came back to life, her body was made of lava.”

  “Lava?” asks Dad. “That’s impossible. I’ve never heard of magic like that.”

  “Anything is possible if you play around with spells enough,” says Lucas. “And if you’re willing to make a great enough sacrifice.”

  “True enough,” replies my father. His eyes glaze over in thought. “I’ll always remember the sacrifice of those seraphim.” Dad shakes his head and refocuses on me. “What else did you learn?”

  “Nothing good,” I say. “Whatever the Viper is doing with Lucifer’s Gauntlets, he thinks he can steal Lucifer’s powers.”

  All the color drains from my father’s face. “That is a terrible idea. This Viper has no chance against Lucifer—I don’t care what sort of powers he’s gained. Lucifer will kill him, get free, and start another holy war.”

  “Which is why we have to find Walker and cure Drayden.” Pulling off my watch, I set it on the tabletop. “Let’s cover this next. Walker said if he got in trouble rescuing Drayden, this watch would start a countdown plus display information needed for a rescue. I tried pushing buttons on the thing, but it hasn’t shown any info. Only the countdown.”

  Dad starts to rise. “If you’re talking about Lucifer’s prison location, I should leave. Even after all these years, I don’t trust myself knowing where Luce is kept.”

  Cissy turns over the watch in her hands and winces. “Don’t worry. We won’t get any information from this thing. This case is broken.”

  My heart sinks. “I was afraid of that.”

  Cissy hands the device over to Lucas. “What do you think?”

  “I’ll cast a small spell to see what we’re dealing with.” Lucas presses the watch between his palms and murmurs an incantation. A small poof of purple light and smoke emerges from between his hands. Magic. Excitement zings through my veins. Lucas is the best warlock in the House of Striga. Surely, he can get the watch to work.

  Please, get the watch to work.

  With the spell over, Lucas examines the watch once more. “I have bad news.”

  A fresh weight of worry settles onto my shoulders. “Let’s have it.”

  “I’m afraid the physical damage nullified my spells,” says Lucas. “That’s my fault. I shouldn’t have tied my magic to the watch’s structure. We aren’t familiar with technology here in Antrum.”

  And Lucas isn’t lying, either. Thrax are totally stuck in the middle ages.

  Cissy pops open her briefcase. “Don’t worry, I brought supplies. Lucas and I will start right away. If anyone can get data from this watch, it’s us.” She pulls out a new watch from the case, fiddles with the invisible buttons, and then hands it over to me. “This is the same watch, but without Walker’s info. I just set it up so it always shows the countdown and time.”

  “Thanks.” I slowly take the new watch from her hands. Walker’s device needs to stay with Lucas and Cissy—that’s our best chance to get the info we need—but I do hate parting with it.

  “There was an image on that watch. It’s the crest of the House of Victoriana. Walker was visiting them. Lincoln and I believe we need to track where those thrax go when they visit the Dark Lands. There may be some clues there.” I’m careful not to say it’s where Lucifer’s prison is located. Dad looks jittery enough as it is.

  Next I look to Lucas. “Long story short, Lincoln and I will need to do more sneaky things at Transfer Central. Do you mind doing cleaning up again after we’re done?”

  Lucas bows his head. “Whatever you require.”

  Cissy rummages around in her briefcase, pulls out a small flip-top cell phone, and hands it to me with a flourish that would make a game show hostess proud. “You can use this in the Dark Lands. It’s loaded with everyone’s phone numbers.”

  I examine the new device. “Wow, this is perfect.” The last phone Cissy got me had tons of not-a-buttons that were called apps. I didn’t know how to use the thing. But this device is super basic—ideal for a non-techie like me.

  “I’d forgotten how the Dark Lands have cell service,” says Lincoln.

  “Let me get this straight,” says Dad slowly. “I can call my daughter from the phone here on the wall … and it will ring on that small device in the Dark Lands.” My father has been around since the dawn of time. Even so, any technology outside of fast cars isn’t his thing.

  “Absolutely,” says Cissy. “It’s true that we don’t have cell service in Purgatory, but they do have it in the Dark Lands. You can just use the wall phone and it will connect to Myla’s cell.”

  “We don’t have cell service yet,” corrects Mom. “My people are working on it.”

  “A cell phone in the Dark Lands,” I murmur. “That opens up possibilities.” My mind spins through options.

  Lincoln slips his arm around my shoulders. “What’s your plan? I can see one cooking behind your eyes.”

  Mom brightens. “If you go to the Dark Lands, Xav and I will watch Maxon, of course.”

  I pause from my internal deliberations to eyeball Mom’s suit. “Don’t you have a big conference this week? I heard something about a mayor’s convention. They’re all worried about the Viper and safety stuff.”

  “Mayor’s convention?” All the color drains from Dad’s face. “I’m not sure I can handle Maxon alone.”

  “Don’t worry,” says Mom. “I can lead a little convention and my grandson at the same time.” She gives Dad one of her dazzling smiles. “Plus, it will be fun.”

  My father slowly returns her grin with one of his own. “Yes, it will be.” He shifts his focus to me. “What’s your plan of attack? I can’t wait to hear it.”

  I bob my brows. “I’m almost tempted to move to the briefing room.”

  “Like father, like daughter,” he replies. I’d never thought about it before, but I probably did inherit my love of battle planning from him.

  “Here’s what I’m thinking,” I begin. “Ciss and Lucas, you two work on the watch. See if you can extract Walker’s rescue data. Mom and Dad take care of Maxon. Lincoln and I will visit wherever the Victoriana go in the Dark Lands. It’s now…” I check my new watch. “1:47 pm. What do you say if Lincoln and I call the house phone here at say, 9 pm?”

  “An excellent plan,” states my father. His face beams with so much pride, I could burst.

  All of a sudden, the vague thought I’d been trying to capture comes into clear focus. And it has to do with snooping.

  “One last thing,” I turn to Cissy. “Can you have your agents check out Enmity Farms? They were acting super strangely this morning.”

  “On it,” says Ciss. “I’ve wanted an excuse to investigate those guys.” Cissy is so excited, her golden retriever tail starts wagging.

  “In that case, we’re done here.” I rise, which I’ve found is the fastest way to end a meeting. Otherwise, people can hang out and chat for ages.

  We say our goodbyes and head off to our various tasks. All the while, my thoughts keep circling back to that countdown.

  Less than a day re
mains to help Drayden. And how much time is left to save Walker, if any?

  That’s the real question.

  Chapter 12

  An hour later, Lincoln and I stand inside the closet Pulpitum of the Boudoir of Striga. Lincoln still wears his body armor; I’ve changed into my dragonscale fighting suit. Like my tail, this outfit is impervious to heat. No more burned-up clothing for yours truly. Like last time, Lincoln sets his hands at my waist; I loop my arms around his neck. My insides flutter with worry.

  Time to head for the Dark Lands. Walker must be there.

  Shaking my head, I try to focus on something other than Walker. A question appears. “Is Juliana still on duty at Transfer Central?”

  “Absolutely,” answers Lincoln.

  “Do you think Lucas already…” I tap my temple, meaning: did Lucas already wipe her memory?

  “One way to find out.” Lincoln raises his voice. “I am Lincoln Vidar Osric Aquilus, activating Pulpitum transfer station.”

  A familiar voice fills the tiny space. “Your Highnesses. What a surprise. I’m your transfer agent, Juliana.”

  Lincoln and I share a long look. Lucas stopped by already.

  Juliana, Lincoln, and I then go through the same routine as our last Pulpitum ride. Juliana is all shocked that our station is marked as unknown. Lincoln and I repeat those all-out lies about Lucas stopping by to fix the problem. In short order, we’re ready for the next step.

  “Where would you like to go?” asks Juliana.

  “That’s a little complicated,” explains Lincoln. “Can you scan the console for the last time someone from the House of Victoriana used the Pulpitum for transfer?”

  “Yes, Your Highness.” Some tapping noises sound. “It says Pulpitum VII.” More tapping. “That’s funny. It looks like the destination was written over. The text is flashing.”

  When I ask my next question, I’m careful to keep my voice low. “Who do you think did that?”