Fallen by James Somers

“See that you do,” he said. “When we meet again, I expect to see great progress already made.”

  “You will,” I assured him. “And I’ll do what you said, never accepting that something is impossible.”

  With that, he turned to escort us out.

  Outside, we found both Sophia and her father. A royal guard waited nearby, ever watchful. Oliver and King Lycean walked together ahead while I fell into step with Sophia.

  “How was your night with Master Helios?” she asked.

  “Educational,” I admitted. “From watching the Movers at the temple site, I had no idea this power was so complex and as interesting as Helios showed me.”

  “Have you learned anything that you can show me before you leave?”

  “Well, he really wore me out,” I said. “Look down.”

  She did and gasped when she discovered that I wasn’t actually walking beside her. I had been floating just above the ground since leaving Helios’s home.

  “How’s that?” I asked as my feet came back to the ground and began walking again.

  “Impressive for only one night of instruction,” she admitted.

  “He’s a great teacher,” I said. “I’m hoping to come back soon and learn more from him.”

  “That would be nice, Brody. I hope you can.”

  “I’m not even sure where we’re going,” I said.

  I was sure that King Lycean knew our destination, but unsure of whether Sophia had been made privy to that information.

  “I wish I could say,” she said. “But I will hope that you both come back soon and safe.”

  By the time we reached the gate, I was wishing that we could simply forget about the war in London and stay forever in Tidus. But I knew that wasn’t possible. So, we said our farewells to the King and his daughter and prepared for Oliver to transport us wherever it was we were headed once we passed out of Tidus.

  Oliver walked through the gate ahead of me. Sophia came running forward and took me by the arm. She kissed me on the cheek and said goodbye again. I nodded, feeling quite strange as I passed through after Oliver. As the gate closed shut behind us, I stood there, touching the spot where her lips had been only a moment before.

  Oliver gave me a puzzled look, shaking his head. “Best to reclaim your wits, Brody,” he said. “Where we’re going, you’ll need to keep a clear head if we want to make it out alive.”

  Oliver raised his hand as a wave of light issued around us, enveloping our persons.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  Oliver looked at me with uncertainty in his eyes.

  “Tartarus.”

  Chameleon

  Tom surveyed the local warehouse where Breed warriors stood watch. Black was inside. He had seen them take Charlotte from the place where the angel had confronted her. He felt like such a coward allowing it to all transpire as it had. He should have saved her. But how?

  In the hours since he began watching, Tom had seen no sign of Sinister. He wondered if his former friend even realized that Black was holding his sister. Tom had considered trying to find the vampire leader and inform him, but the risk was too great that Sinister simply wouldn’t care. No. He had to take action now before anything more happened to her.

  Tom knew what he had to do. He just hoped his shape-shifting abilities would be up to the kind scrutiny he would encounter here. He concentrated upon his old friend’s memory, incorporating as much detail as he could remember: his clothing, the grime of the city, even his smell. When Tom stood up, he was the very image of Sinister.

  Taking the form of a raven for effect, he flew from the shadows where he had been hidden all this time, soaring high up in order to be sure that all of the Breed warriors noticed him. He landed in bird form, hopped once across the dusty ground then morphed into his disguise as Sinister. If any Breed warriors had a doubt about whether or not this was their master, it should be quashed by this display. Only a master chameleon like Tom could pull it off. It helped that he knew Sinister so well.

  Several vampires stalked him from the shadows. But they never said a word, or made any attempt to stop him. He did not regard them, or call out any salutation. It simply was not Sinister’s way. He expected obedience to his commands. He did not usually make friends among those who followed him.

  Still, Tom knew that if anyone was an exception to that rule it was him. Sinister had shown him uncharacteristic warmth, especially after his involvement with Charlotte. The vampire prince had always been quite protective of her, nevertheless he had approved of Tom being in her life for a time—at least until she stopped seeing things Sinister’s way.

  Matters between her and Tom and her brother had become strained. Ultimately, she had been viewed as an outcast as many of the Breed followed Black’s vision for the Descendants of the Fallen. Only Tom and her immediate family still cared for her. Still, her relationship with them had become distant, to say the least—a fact that still gave Tom pangs of regret when he thought about it.

  He passed easily into the warehouse, shut the door behind him and stopped. Drago, one of Sinister’s lieutenants, approached him from the darkness within. Tom knew the vampire well, but had never particularly liked him. He enjoyed the killing quite a bit—something that Tom had always found distasteful, even if he had never said anything. The world was the way it was.

  Noticing surprise in Drago’s expression, Tom acted on his hunch that Sinister hadn’t been told that his sister was Black’s prisoner.

  “Where is she?” Tom said menacingly, just as Sinister might have done.

  Drago was instant to respond. “My lord, we had no choice,” he said. “We could not disobey him.”

  “Where is she?” Tom screamed, allowing his own fury to fuel his performance.

  He had set Drago off balance trying to explain himself, making it all the more unlikely that he would be discovered. At least, he thought, Sinister had not imprisoned her himself. A small consolation was better than none at all.

  Drago’s eyes betrayed the direction he needed to go. Tom walked past him without another word. He kicked the door open and found two more vampires standing guard at the end of a narrow corridor. Tom stepped inside, leaving the door hanging half open behind him.

  “Get out,” He said. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried the message well.

  The vampires left their post reluctantly, though Tom wasn’t sure if it was because of what Black might do, or what they thought Sinister would do. Nevertheless, they left, passing him without a word, eyes averted in shame at having been a part of Charlotte’s imprisonment. They passed through the doorway as quiet as a whisper.

  Tom stood still, listening, waiting. No one came. No noise came from the beyond the door before him. Surely, this was where they were keeping her. Why else guard this lonely steel door?

  A slide was situated at eye level. Tom stepped forward, grabbing the bolt and slowly sliding it back. He peered through the hole. Charlotte was already looking right at him, or at least at the vampire he appeared to be. She fixated upon him, clearly unsure of whether this was truly her brother on the other side of the door.

  Tom saw no one else in the room. Black had evidently gone already prior to his arrival. Tom opened the door, revealing himself fully to Charlotte bound on the other side. She looked confused and angry to see him. Tom ignored this and crossed the room quickly, preparing to cut her bonds.

  Charlotte started to speak, then stopped abruptly.

  “You’re not my brother,” she said.

  Tom stopped mid-stride and smiled.

  A voice emanated all around the chamber. “Of course, he isn’t your brother,” Black’s voice resounded. “He is a rat in a trap.”

  The steel door slammed shut of its own volition behind Tom. He turned, searching as laughter filled the cell.

  “Tom?” Charlotte asked.

  Tom resumed his true form in the blink of an eye.

  “What are you doing here?” Charlotte screamed.
r />   “Trying to save you!” he shouted back as laughter continued unabated all around them.

  A blur sprang from the shadows, intercepting Tom’s attempt to free Charlotte from her bonds. He leaped away instinctively, transforming into a housefly in the same moment. Wicked claws swiped at him but missed. Tom morphed into a lemur, hitting the wall like a spring, leaping up the wall as a black panther below scrabbled against the stones trying to catch him.

  Tom was too high for the big cat now, but Black wasted no time, transforming the panther to a sparrow. He shot toward the lemur, becoming an eagle in flight, talons extended to make the kill. Tom became a turtle, withdrawing into his shell as the eagle clawed at him with its talons. He slipped away from Black toward the stone floor, becoming a cat, landing on its feet as cats always do.

  The eagle came down upon the cat. “Did you really think you could save her, boy?”

  The cat exploded into a silverback gorilla, plowing the eagle with a mighty fist. When Black hit the wall, now in his human form again, the entire room shook like an earthquake.

  “Get away, Tom!” Charlotte cried. “You can’t defeat him!”

  The gorilla charged the door, smashing through, leaving the steel plate hanging from busted hinges. “I’ll come back!” Tom called back.

  Black stood in the doorway watching him go, whispering the name of Tiberius into Tom’s subconscious. A trick only angels and a very few Descendants could manage. He did not pursue, but turned on Charlotte.

  “How deliciously wonderful,” he said. “Another pawn set into play upon the board, running into a trap.”

  Charlotte could only stare in disbelief. She had heard the angel whisper her Tiberius’s name, but it didn’t make sense to send Tom for her father. “Tiberius was supposed to be your ally in all of this,” she said. “In exchange for his help, you promised my people power and a kingdom to rule in the mortal world.”

  “Chaos is more fun,” Black said. “And I share power with no one.”

  Tom ran down the narrow corridor, hoping that Black did not follow. He had no hope of defeating an angel. Still, the blow he had struck Black in animal form had certainly felt good. When he hit the end of the corridor he morphed into Sinister again, running out angrily just to be seen. Then, quick as a flash, he became Sinister’s raven form and took flight, rising toward the high steel rafters and out through a gash in the warehouse roof.

  He looked back behind him, but found no one following. He sighed with relief. He’d been soundly beaten, but anybody else would have done no better. Tom knew he was fortunate to still be alive after such a confrontation.

  However, seeing Charlotte’s predicament only strengthened his resolve. And he now had a plan in mind. He would go to Tiberius, the Vampire Lord and Charlotte’s father. If anyone could help him rescue the girl it was Tiberius. Despite her rebellion against Black’s takeover of London, her father still loved her. He would not stand for such an outrage.

  Tom even held out some hope that Tiberius would speak wisdom to Sinister, drawing him away from Black’s side. Still, that might be too much to hope for. Then again, all he had left now was hope.

  Void

  The way into Tartarus was not as convoluted as I might have suspected. Fairly straightforward, all in all. We had stepped through one of Oliver’s portals, exiting in the middle of a frozen forest in Siberia. Before us stood a gnarled old tree that appeared completely different from all the rest. A dark hallow sat on the northern face.

  We walked into that darkness and were swallowed up by it. The sensation was interesting. One moment my skin was tingling from the biting cold. The next we were walking through dry desert heat, yet in the absence of light.

  Oliver called for fire ahead of me. A small orange flame obeyed his command, sparking into being above his outstretched palm. He turned to me grinning.

  “You didn’t think you were the only one who could do that, did you?” he asked.

  A question I’d had on my mind spilled out. “Who are you descended from, Oliver?”

  He paused and the smile left his face. I wondered if he might attempt to redirect my question, or simply avoid it altogether. But he surprised me.

  “I am descended from an angel called Southresh,” he said.

  “I’ve never heard of him,” I replied.

  Oliver smirked. “Oh, and how many angels have you heard names for?”

  I felt a bit stupid. Of course, he was right. Apart from Gabriel and Michael and Lucifer, mentioned in the scriptures, I had no idea of the names of angels. Only Black’s moniker was known to me, and I had no idea if that was his real name or not.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  Oliver laughed gently.

  “I wouldn’t expect you to know the name, Brody, since you’ve not been privy to your heritage for very long.”

  “I’m still not privy to my specific heritage,” I said.

  “True, but then I’m not sure of that either.”

  “Why are we here?” I asked.

  “We need to speak to someone who is here.”

  “Imprisoned here?” I asked. I knew that much of Tartarus from the scriptures. A prison for angels.

  “Yes, he is imprisoned here.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Southresh,” he replied.

  “No wonder you know the way into this place,” I said. “He’s your father.”

  “He may be yours, as well,” he said.

  I had almost been expecting him to say something like that. Still, I was so used to everyone being so cryptic around me that his candor actually caused me to gasp.

  “I don’t mean to alarm you, Brody,” he said quickly. “It’s just that you have to be informed. This place is very dangerous. Southresh is very dangerous. It’s time you understood who you might be and why you have the abilities you possess.”

  “Abilities like yours?”

  “Apparently so,” he said kindly, placing his hand on my shoulder in order to comfort me.

  “I’ll be all right,” I said, though I did feel a bit weak in the knees. “I really do want to know the truth. It’s just that none of this was ever what I expected to find upon coming to London.”

  “I understand, Brody,” Oliver said. “Reality can sometimes be far worse than we ever imagined.”

  “Can you tell me about him before we have to see him?” I asked. “So, I can kind of mentally prepare?”

  “I wish it was an experience you could prepare your mind for,” Oliver said. “Still, a bit of information can’t hurt.”

  “Southresh is a particularly nasty specimen among the most dangerous creatures in existence,” Oliver began.

  “If it doesn’t get any better than that, I may be sorry I asked.”

  “I wish it did,” he offered. “Southresh has been called the mad god.”

  “He’s angry?”

  “He’s crazy.”

  The thought of an insane angel being in any way my ancestor made me cringe and my blood run cold.

  “However,” Oliver said, “it might very well explain how a young one like you came to be.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I was descended from Southresh through a dozen or more generations, at least,” Oliver said. “But from the description you gave of the test Black put you through, you may be much closer to Southresh in your ancestry. The fact that you were able to push back at Black with any success at all at so young an age is very telling.”

  “But neither my father nor mother ever showed any signs of having such power,” I argued.

  “I admit, I don’t understand it,” Oliver said. “But there is something that Southresh mentioned to me—something I’ve never understood. He talked of escaping this place.”

  “But didn’t God create Tartarus?”

  “That’s true,” he said. “One would therefore suppose it to be impregnable.”

  “But how have you gone in and out?”

  “This prison is not meant to keep anyon
e inside other than angels,” he said. “Without walls and without guards, Tartarus holds its prisoners secure.”

  “Simply by his word,” I said.

  “Yes,” Oliver confirmed. “That’s why I don’t understand how Southresh could have escaped…not unless he was set free.”

  That terrible suggestion lingered in my mind long after Oliver began speaking again. How could it be? Why would he be set free to commit such an atrocity. And yet, I might only exist because of such an act. I could not reconcile the matter in my mind. But it remained there like a maddening mosquito in my ear, buzzing around my thoughts.

  “I had assumed that he simply spoke gibberish, as always,” Oliver continued. “You cannot believe what they say. They are liars to the core.”

  “So are people,” I said. “Only God is true all the time.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, Brody, but I’m referring to lies that are deceptively clever. You might not realize you’re being lied to. At any rate, I did not believe him when he mentioned it.”

  “When were you speaking to him?”

  “About ten years ago,” he said. “When I saw him ten years before that, he said nothing of the kind.”

  “I’m seventeen,” I said.

  “That would make sense,” Oliver said. “But it might also mean…”

  “That Southresh is my natural father?”

  I wasn’t sure where that thought had come from. It was logical. Considering it more after I said it, it seemed like the only explanation that made sense. And yet it made no sense at all. How could this happen? Why would it be allowed to happen?

  Oliver stared at me with the little flame dancing upon his upturned palm in the midst of the surrounding darkness. His expression said it all. Reason had led him to consider that same possibility.

  “Then the only thing left to do is ask him,” I said.

  “Wait,” he said. “It’s not that easy. You don’t just ask a fallen angel a question and get a straight answer, at least not a lunatic like Southresh. He’s a manipulator. If he believes you desire something from him, he’ll use it against you. If he believes that he can coerce you, he will.”

  “But I have to know,” I pleaded.

  “That’s why we’re here, Brody, but we must be smart about it if we’re to get any answers at all.”