A Kiss of Fate

Chapter 18

Ayana followed Zelrine through a dimly lit passage, closely shadowed by her two guards. The flickering torches barely flung any light on the bare walls of stone. A carpet of dirt muffled their footsteps as they rushed along the tunnel, sending motes of dust flying into the air.

"This will take us out of the valley," Zelrine said. "But we need to be careful. This tunnel is much older, and almost everyone in the base knows about it."

"Hmm," Ayana mumbled, the weight in her chest too heavy, too much to bear. Innumerable blades of hurt stabbed into her heart as Hope's crying face flashed before her eyes.

How was she going to live without her little girl?

She had to find Lucien. She needed him. As long as he was fine, she had no regrets. According to the Commander's sources, he had disappeared off the map. He was certainly out there, looking for her. When she reunited with her husband, they would leave Aria for good.

Hope was safe with Iezabel, of that she had no doubt. She did not have to share her fate. She would be away from Aria and all of its hidden darkness. Maybe if she escaped the Empire's clutches someday, she might get to see her little one again.

Ayana jerked back to reality when she almost bumped into Zelrine. A dark mass of stone blocked the path before them, a metal wheel protruding from the wall beside it. "At last," Zelrine muttered. "It was farther than I thought."

"Turn back while you can, Zelrine," Ayana said. Enough people had gotten hurt because of her. She had already lost too much. "They will find me no matter what."

"I'm not abandoning you. I already promised Iezabel," Zelrine said. She gestured at the wheel. "Turn that, will you?" she asked one of Ayana's guards.

He inclined his head. A grinding noise reverberated through the dark passage as he started rotating the wheel. The wall before them slid into a hidden alcove, letting bright shafts of dawning sun pierce into the shadows.

Ayana stepped out onto the grass covered ground, her eyes sweeping the surroundings. They were nowhere near the fallen city. Before her stretched a great forest, giant birches and pines towering to the sky. Dead silence reigned the trees, not a living soul to be seen, nor a whispering breath to be heard.

"Where are we?"

"The Green Valley," Zelrine replied. "It lies adjacent to the Temple Crag."

One of the guards held up his hand in caution. "We are being watched." He motioned to his companion.

"What do you mean?" Zelrine asked, her fingers creeping to the hilt of her blade.

A shiver crawled along Ayana's skin as her guards stalked toward the dense foliage. Maybe they had come for her as she knew they would. Maybe it was time she accepted her fate. What more did she have to lose?

The boughs parted as if blown by a silent gust. To their astonishment, a young man, barely out of adolescence, leaned against the tree. Dark shoulder length hair framed his sharp features, and thick brows arched over his sea green eyes. He was unarmed, except for a small hunting knife strapped to his belt.

A mischievous grin spread across his face. "Going somewhere?"

One of the guards strode toward him, but as he reached for his sword, the youth pointed at his legs. "Aburó verni."

A surprised grunt escaped his lips as the guard collapsed to the ground and lay there, unmoving. "What did you do, you little mutt?"

He ignored the fallen soldier, his gaze fixed on Ayana. "Lady Ayana, if you let me escort you to my mother, those two can go their way."

A sorcerer! Ayana had never met one this young. She stood frozen, heart racing and unable to move. They were no match for a sorcerer.

Strangely, the only emotion in her mind was relief-relief that her little Hope was far away, safe with Iezabel.

"Lady Ayana, Run!" Zelrine shouted. She drew her blade and charged, just as the other guard lunged for the kill, his fangs bared.

"Quaró desci." The sorcerer waved his palm, as if swatting aside mere bugs.

Ayana heard a loud intake of breath as they met the rock-face with a sickening crunch and collapsed to the ground. She half expected them to jump back on their feet, but they did not. What was happening? Why was everything falling apart? What had she done to deserve this?

Ayana stood rooted to the spot as he advanced. "Who are you?"

He chuckled. "Wiser of me if I didn't tell you that." He peered behind her, as if he was expecting someone else. A dramatic sigh of disappointment escaped his lips.

"I was quite eager to meet your violent companion, the one who killed my vlarik, well, not really mine, but who cares." He waved his hand. "Do you know how difficult it is to bend them to my will without her knowing?" He shook his head.

His mouth stopped rambling long enough for him to inspect her like a prized acquisition. "She warned me to be wary of you, though I don't see why," he said with a mocking grin. He held out his hand. "Now, will you come with me? Please? It is bad enough I had to come here myself to collect a mere human."

As fast as lightning, Ayana moved, burying the retrievable blade in her sleeve into his chest. "Leave me alone!"

His eyes widened in shock, and his grin of amusement turned into a grimace of pain. "Sturió hulfoven." He gasped, blood dripping from his mouth.

An invisible hand closed around her neck. She desperately clawed at the convulsing sorcerer, but to no avail. I love you, my little Hope. Her knees crumpled beneath her. Stay safe. Together, they collapsed to the ground. I am sorry, Lucien. A sad smile formed on her lips as cold darkness enveloped her in its embrace.

~•~•~•~•~END~•~•~•~•~

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