Once It Gets Dark Ch. 19

Hi everybody thank you so, so much for your patience and your support. I am so sorry I have been so silent lately!

I have made some changes to the chapter division, and there are going to be 21 chapters in total (not 20 like I had previously stated)

A special thank you goes out to Olive for her wonderful help and ideas!

Veril and German vocabulary can be found in my profile <3

There is NO SEX in this chapter, so if you are looking for that, I recommend one of the following: Ch. 1; Ch. 3; Ch. 6; Ch. 8; Ch. 9; Ch. 11; Ch. 13; Ch. 14; Ch. 15 (The smut will return eventually, I promise, hehe)

TW: for rebels in underground structures, war and graphic violence.

Chapter 19--Tutilmik inrun verterek

Click.

The sound was drowned by my own scream of desperation. The pain of losing him tore through my soul, ripping it to shreds until all that remained was emptiness. And from that abyss the darkness rose, thick and deeper than night. It filled me completely, and when my body couldn't contain it anymore, it burst out of every pore, streaming from my wide-open mouth and eyes in an explosion of shadows, instantly extinguishing the glaring light of the Relámpago. I felt it, like an extension of myself, as it surged through the tunnels, seeped into the pond above us, and soared over the trees of the Volkspark. It enveloped streets and houses, stretching farther and farther over skyscrapers and monuments, forming a dome that spread all the way to the fields and pine forests of Brandenburg at the edges of the city.

Then there was another sensation: a slight tug, as if I were sitting in a train that had come to an abrupt halt, and with it my mind--until then floating in the darkness above the capital--snapped back.

I was inside my body again. Tears streamed down my face as I cowered beneath Vo'ren's shields, waiting for the ground-shaking boom of the explosion. I pressed my eyes shut and begged the universe that, when it ended his life, it might take me too.

But there was nothing. No movement. Only silence and my shadows hanging in the air, as if the world had frozen to black ice. Was this death? Had the sudden outburst of magic been too much for my weakened body? Was he at least here with me? I lay my hand tentatively on the shield, trying to sense him on the other side. The metal felt cold and real against my palm, as real as the thrumming of my heart, and suddenly the shield was gone and a strong hand closed painfully around my wrist. It was the most wonderful thing I had ever felt.

"Keep this up, ishktz'in! No matter what happens." Vo'ren's black eyes burned urgently into mine before they darted around the room. I knew that he was ready to cover me again should there be the slightest movement.

It took me a moment to understand that he was talking about my magic. I blinked and nodded, but his face remained doubtful. I felt a warm trickle in my arm as he reached into the connection of our binding. He wanted to assist me and steady my power like he had done before, but he had no magic left to give, not after being exposed to the artificial sunlight. And this time I didn't need

My shadows were all around me--inky, heavy, and almost tangible--smothering the light of the solar bomb and stretching like a protective cloak over the city. But unlike the other times I had used my magic, there was no drain on my energy. I had finally, truly opened up to him, and the strength of our connection kept me grounded, kept my life force anchored to him. All this time, I had been limiting myself; had held myself back because I was afraid to admit what lay between us. But now it was easy, almost intuitive, like breathing or walking. I had finally unleashed my true potential. Vo'ren and I--we had been the key all along.

And then there was this other strange force, the one that kept the train from moving. I felt it flowing through my blood alongside my own power, and somehow I was able to control it, as well.

I looked up into his striking eyes, tightened the dark clouds around us, and gave him a more self-assured nod. "Don't worry, mishtz'in. I got us."

My mark thrummed wildly, and even beneath his hood, I clearly saw the smile sparkling in his eyes. He pulled me through the high-walled bunker in less than a dozen of his long strides, and I tried my best to keep pace. My legs were wobbly, but he was there, a reassuring presence at my side, steadying me whenever my weakened knees threatened to give in. His movements were as swift and fluid as always, but when we were almost below the exit, I thought I saw him stumble. It was just a brief pause in his step, but uneasiness gripped my heart.

We had finally reached the ladder. I grabbed the first rusty bar and started climbing. Just a few more steps, I told myself. Just a few more steps and we're out of this hell.

I pulled myself up rung after rung, the skin on my knuckles turning white and chipped paint biting into my palms as I held on so tightly. I didn't look behind me, afraid that vertigo might slow me down. Instead, I focused on the magic in my veins so I wouldn't accidentally let go of the shadow dome that suffocated the UV light and kept us safe.

I reached the top of the ladder, but instead of pulling myself up onto the tiny platform that led to the round door, I stopped. Finally surrendering to the call of the abyss, I turned my head and looked into the bunker below.

Everything was shrouded in darkness, thick like condensed night, but with my night vision I was able to see it all: there lay the Peruvian's phone, the timer frozen on one second. And there, further in the back, were the remnants of the ropes that he had used to tie me to the pipe, and not far from them, the explosive belt with the bomb, its deadly light smothered by my shadows--from up here it almost looked like a toy. I shivered, and something in the universe shivered with me.

With one practiced movement, Vo'ren jumped past me onto the platform and pushed the door open with a well-aimed strike of his forearm. I felt its impact vibrate through the metal ladder and into the soles of my cheap tennis shoes.

"Quick!" He hissed; there was a strange undertone in his voice, and the pressure in my mark spiked uncomfortably.

He leaned down, yanked me atop the little platform by my arms, then pushed me into the corridor with such force that I feared my shoulder might have dislocated. I tripped over the threshold, almost losing my grip on my magic. I stumbled to the ground, barely catching myself with outstretched hands. My palms and shins throbbed, but I kept crawling forward. I had to get as far away from the terrifying bunker as possible.

Behind me, I heard him shut the door with a bang so loud it reverberated through the dark tunnels, followed immediately by the sound of the wheel that sealed the bunker closed. The echo had not yet faded when it happened; something slipped my grasp, and just like that the dome of darkness came loose, separating from my body. It did not disappear, but I had lost all control over it. And then the strange train began moving again.

"Cover!"

Before I had time to even gasp, he pressed me face down into the floor, forcing me to tuck my head under my arms. His heavy body covered mine as he shielded me once more.

And then, at last, like the rumble of an earthquake, like thunder after lightning, the bomb exploded. The ground shook, and cement drizzled through the white panels on the ceiling. There was another rumble: the heavy sound of stones hitting the PVC floorboards of the tunnel. I screamed and pulled my legs closer to my chest in a desperate attempt to protect my child. Vo'ren mumbled something in Veril, a melodic succession of verses--a prayer maybe? I listened to the consoling sound of his voice as I waited for the weight of the earth above us to come crashing down, burying us beneath the very park where our lives had become entwined.

But the FMD's detonation chamber held, containing the impact of the deadly weapon, and after a while everything was silent again.
I stayed down, curled into a tight ball, paralyzed by the fear that the slightest movement might cause the ceiling above us to cave in. Vo'ren's body kept me pinned, his breath brushing in ragged gulps against my ear. A few more moments passed, and after nothing happened, I tentatively lifted my head and peeked out between his arms.

I coughed. Brown dust hung in the air like fog, coating the rebel's shiny tunnels with a fine beige film. I looked to my right toward the street exit below the apartment building where the rebels had held me hostage. The corridor had collapsed in on itself and was now blocked by a rampart of bricks and fresh earth. But our segment of the tunnel seemed to be intact and unaffected.

I wriggled and twisted until I was on my back, facing up, facing him. His chest pressed against mine, my left leg was stuck uncomfortably under his body, and my right one rested loosely against his waist. For many nights I had yearned to be this close to him again, but I pushed aside my body's reaction.

A big question formed in my mind, bringing with it a new kind of fear. How? How had we both survived?

He opened his eyes, and they were as dark as my shadows when I had turned and looked into the bunker, and then I remembered the timer on the Peruvian's phone--frozen on one second.

And suddenly I understood. That strange other force I had felt next to my own magic, it had been his power--a power so terrifying that even the Counsel had seen only one way to keep it under control: by binding a little boy to the cruel discipline of the Kirtim Shenk, by subjugating Vo'ren and his magic under a rigid military system that had no escape but death itself.

I looked at the scarf-covered face of the man to whom I belonged, and a chill cold as ice ran over my body. It was as if I were seeing him clearly for the first time. He was so close, and my emotions spiraled as my joy about finally being with him again warred against a deep, primordial fear of who he truly was. All this time I had assumed he controlled some kind of elemental force; had pictured him like some ancient deity, smiting his enemies with strikes of lightning that made the Relámpago seem like a mere cap bomb. But this was so much more terrifying.

"You," I whispered, and his eyes narrowed inquisitively, as if he too were unsure of what to make of me. "You can stop time."

His muscles were fraught, like a cat, ready to jump up at any moment--I knew he didn't want to stay here, but I needed at least some answers. I closed my hand around his uniform-clad forearm, as if I would have a chance to hold him back.

He frowned. "I cannot."

"What?" When I felt him shifting, I dug my hand deeper into the fabric. "But... the bomb--it should've gone off after the third click; it..."

Vo'ren interrupted me, impatience ringing in his voice. "Time, by its nature, is ever running. It cannot be stopped, nor can it be reversed." He looked up, scanning the tunnels, before he continued with a slightly more amiable tone. "But I do have the ability to slow it down."

"But just now back in that room..." I remembered the distinct feeling of the train, not slowing down but coming to a marked halt.

"I know." The muscles around Vo'ren's temples tensed as he clenched his jaw. "However, I have no idea what that was. It is a matter we shall examine when I have gotten you out of this cursed city." He snarled the last part, making it sound almost like a threat, and pushed himself up.

I automatically tightened my grip around his arm, my weird instincts protesting as I lost contact with his body.

Vo'ren paused and gave me a warning glare. "I do promise to keep you pinned underneath me uninterruptedly, and for a dozen nights or more, should you wish so, ishktz'in. But now, as much as it might hurt, I need you to keep your little human head focused on more pressing matters so I can get you to safety."

And with that, he got up, pulling me to my feet in one swift movement. He inhaled shakily and steadied himself; his whole body was alert as he scanned our surroundings. The darkness had lost its inky density, and the electricity had not returned. The shadow dome had slipped my grasp, and it was impossible to verify in the windowless tunnel, but for some reason I thought it was still there, shrouding the terrified capital in night.

Would I still be able to summon my shadows, or had I consumed them all? I turned my hand up, reached inside myself, and smiled as black tendrils broke out of my palm and began to swirl wildly around my body. In the lightless corridor they would have been imperceptible to human eyes, but I saw them and so did Vo'ren. I tentatively wrapped them around us like a cloak, surprised at how infinitely more easy manipulating my magic had become now that I had learned how to anchor my life force to our connection. I hardly felt a strain on my energy. Yielding my power suddenly seemed as simple as moving a finger. I formed a circle out of condensed shadows and let it hover around my head like a dark halo.

"I mean, you could just stop time for a little bit and get us out afterwards," I said, petulantly as I gave in to my childish urge to have the last word.

Vo'ren shot me an exasperated look but ignored me otherwise. He pulled up the right sleeve of his uniform and placed his index and middle finger on the half-circle mark above his elbow. I inhaled in shock, instantly cured from the itch to argue when I saw his skin. Like a twisted river delta, it was marred with dark green lines--the same ones that had formed on his neck under the solar lamps. He wouldn't be able to stop even a fraction of a second any time soon. Hot hatred for the terrorists rose up like bile in my throat.

There was a rustling noise. Vo'ren pulled a handheld radio out of his pocket, and I listened to his orders spoken in sharp and precise Veril. I loved how his voice shifted just so slightly in his native language, how it became harsher and more melodic at the same time. And to my own surprise, I actually understood a good part of what he said. It was as if the little break from our nightly lessons had helped my brain process and memorize the learned vocabulary.

"Close down all exits to the base. Search the houses in the vicinity. I want him alive."

The Peruvian, Rafael. I bared my teeth as my whole body filled with a new desire: the desire to get my hands on the FMD leader, to hurt him, to make him scream and beg for mercy. The desire for revenge. My own thoughts, the visions of his pain-contorted face, made me nauseous. I inhaled deeply and tried to clear my head.

Vo'ren stowed the radio away. He gave the caved-in tunnel a chastising look and spit on the ground. I stepped to his side and closed my fingers gently around his wrist. There was no way we would be able to clear the way up and get to the street exit. Besides, the apartment building was most likely full of FMD, and though he was very good at masking it, I feared Vo'ren might not be up to a full-on fight. Claustrophobia constricted my chest at the thought of being stuck underground, but I fought it down before it made me gasp for air. Vo'ren would do anything to bring me to safety, and I would do the same for him.

I straightened my back, wiped a stray strand of hair from the corner of my eye, and I made a promise to myself: I would get him out, I would see him healed, and then I would make everything right again.

"This way." I lightly squeezed his arm and pulled him left, deeper into the stuffy tunnel system towards the center of the Volkspark, where I had seen something that might currently be our only way out.

It had only been two nights ago that Lilly took me on that little tour, but it felt like an entire lifetime lay between then and now. My mind struggled to comprehend that I was now walking through those same corridors at the side of General Tsul.

Each of his movements was silent and controlled despite his exhaustion, and my heart jumped every time I looked at him. My brain was still unable to wrap around the last hours' events, but there was no time to deal with that now; I needed all my concentration to stay focused. I shoved the horrors to the back of my mind, hoping that there were still some decent therapists left in Hamburg to help me deal with them later.

We made quick progress with only one very short interruption, during which I flitted into a public bathroom, to Vo'ren's thinly veiled annoyance. We passed the entrance to the mess hall and were almost at the height of my old decontamination cell when Vo'ren suddenly lifted his hand. He placed his index finger over his mouth and pulled Peace Bringer from the scabbard he wore strapped to his broad back. My heart sank. I didn't need Veril ears to hear the sounds of boots approaching behind the corner. Humans, probably a group of three or more.

With one swift movement, Vo'ren had stepped in front of me. He maneuvered me against the wall with his outstretched arm, and my pulse began to hammer in my throat as I watched him assume a half-crouching position, ready to strike. Fuck! In a panic, I looked down the corridor behind us: white panel after white panel and the occasional door that could only be opened with the matching key card. There was nowhere to hide, and the tunnel was too long and straight to simply turn around unseen. A fight was inevitable.

Unless... I closed my eyes, turned my palms up, and tried to imitate the gestures Ichel had made to form almost solid-looking figures. And to my own surprise, it worked. Just like he had done with the solstice night, I summoned my own shadows, condensed them, and pulled them around us until we were shrouded in deepest darkness.

Vo'ren glanced over his shoulder to give me just the briefest nod. With his gloveless hand he pointed first at me and then assertively at the floor beneath my feet. Stay. I nodded and pressed my back against the wall, making myself as flat as possible. He gave me one more assessing glare and resumed his stance, the deadly scimitar drawn and ready to strike should we be discovered.

I made sure to hold on tightly to my darkness, hiding us behind a wall of night so deep we melted seamlessly into the wall of the dark tunnel. Unnoticeable even with the bright beams of the terrorists' flashlights that had just appeared around the corner and cut like blades through the dark corridor.

There were five of them: two up front and two others behind them, supporting a limping comrade.

"Hurry," urged one of the latter in German. "What if that thing was venomous?"


They were in clear sight now, and I had to press my palms over my mouth to keep from gasping. On the man's flank, right underneath the arm he held slung over his comrade's shoulder, there was a terrible injury. The green uniform was stained dark where his flesh had been pierced by several deep incisions, but what scared me even more than the blood was the peculiar half-oval shape of the wound. No weapon, be it Veril or human, could have created such a pattern. This was a bite, but no animal in Berlin had a maw that big.

"You think the end of the cease-fire means they really got him?" said another one; his tone was hushed as if he feared that speaking the thought out loud might turn it untrue.

"I don't know. It's kind of hard to imagine that the Butcher would care that much about some chick." The first one giggled at the absurdity, and the sound ripped unnaturally through the underground silence. "I mean, don't get me wrong, she's pretty hot. I wouldn't have minded a piece of that when we had her all tied up in that little dress of hers, but still."

The first rebel scoffed. "The Peruvian's sister said that if anything, it's because of the spawn. It's like the trespassers think it's sacred or something."

"Yeah," the second rebel agreed.

They had almost reached us, and anger burned in my arms and legs, urging me to move when I saw the human's pleasant face: I knew this one. He was the young insurgent who had taunted me, who had wanted to hit me when I was bound to that chair and completely at his mercy.

"That's what the traitor Haase said, too, when I interrogated him. That she's just some ordinary girl, nothing special about her." He made a dismissive gesture, but my heart stopped and my blood turned to acid when I heard my roommate's name. "Can you believe that little bitch actually peed himself before we were even done with him?" He chuckled, and his friend made a fake retching sound. "And in the end he didn't know shit; all he was good for was getting us that chick and showing us the entry to the tunnels in his basement."

Hatred clouded my vision and ran like fire through my veins. What had those fucking terrorists done to him? Had they tortured my friend? Killed him like they'd tried to kill Vo'ren and me? My hand went reflexively to my hips and grasped at nothing. Never had I yearned this much for my Silver Hilt, but they had taken that from me, too.

Without thinking, I stepped out into the tunnel, and as soon as I did, my shadows ripped open around me as if they had a mind of their own. I didn't care. The rebels froze in their tracks, their faces paling as if they were looking at Death herself. I grinned and relished the terror in their eyes. I stood in front of them, illuminated by all four beams of their flashlights, like an omen of doom, my bloodstained face framed by the wild open waves of my dark hair, my torn shadow dress wafting around me, melting seamlessly into the darkness that clung to my body and caressed me with its black tendrils.

"Kowalski," I hissed, baring my teeth.

"How...?" The little coward was not so talkative now that I wasn't bound to a chair.

"Where's my friend, Kowalski?" I took one step towards him, my shadows swirling wildly around me in sync with my rage, as if I were standing amidst a dark storm. "Where is Tim Haase?"

He slowly receded, unable to take his wide eyes off me; his lips moved, but no words came out.

"I can't hear you!" I snarled through gritted teeth. My wrist was burning, but with hot hatred coursing through my veins, I hardly even noticed. I took a step closer and extended my dark tendrils towards him.

"The old hospital," the young rebel gasped out, trying to evade my magic.

The hospital--that must be the clinic, formerly one of the biggest in Berlin that had been located in Volkspark Friedrichshain before the Veril took it over. Did that mean Tim was alive? Were they keeping him somewhere in the basements?

Before I could ask, there was a sharp sting in my arm. I caught a movement in the corner of my eye and finally grasped my utter stupidity when I looked down the barrel of a rifle. I had been too consumed by my anger at Kowalski to notice how the man at his side had reached for his weapon. I snapped out of my rage-induced trance; I pulled my shadows around me and ducked.

Someone pushed me to the side; there was a scream, metal flashed, and a shot hit the ceiling panel somewhere above my head. When I looked back up, the gun was gone. Its bearer was on the ground, curled into himself, wailing in a high-pitched tone, and hugging the bloody stump that had once been his arm. Kowalski lay next to him, everything but his feet hidden from view by his comrade.

Vo'ren held two other terrorists pinned against the wall, pressing his powerful forearms against their throats. He had taken his head cover off, and with the horrid dark green lines all over his skin and the cut across his elven face reopened, he looked exactly like the demon the Germans had always thought him to be.

When he spoke, his voice was low and calm, almost gentle, yet it resonated through the entire tunnel.

"Do you know why they call me the Butcher?"

My ears started ringing. And all of a sudden I was gripped by a deep fear of the man I was bound to. I stumbled a few steps backwards, and that was when I saw Kowalski. I pulled my shadows tightly around myself like a protective blanket, and I squeezed my eyes shut. But it was like the image had been burned into my retina. The young rebel's lifeless eyes were still wide open. A gaping cut split his body in two from his shoulder all the way down to his stomach, the bloody mass of his severed organs escaping their former constraints. A nauseating smell of blood and feces filled the tunnels, and I retched.

I cowered on the cold floor and covered my ears like a child, but no matter how hard I pushed my palms against my skull, it wasn't enough, and the sickening sounds, the pleas that turned into gargled sobs as Vo'ren's victims slowly drowned on their own blood, went on for what felt like an eternity. Until, finally, everything was silent again.

"Run." The General's unmoved voice made me jump to my feet, but he wasn't talking to me.

The rebel with the terrible bite mark was still alive, swaying on his feet as he stared at the monster in front of him, an expression of raw terror frozen to his sweaty face.

Vo'ren's sharp teeth were bared, and he snarled; each of his words was punctuated with hatred. "Run. And tell the world what happens to anyone who dares point their weapon at my wife."

As if the order had freed a reserve of hidden energy, the insurgent turned on his heels. He stumbled away in the direction of the apartment building and street exit, not knowing that further down the tunnel had collapsed. I stared after him and concentrated hard not to look at the lumps of flesh on the floor that had once been four human beings.

When the sound of steps had faded into the distance, the General wiped the scimitar clean on his uniform before he slowly turned towards me. His eyes were fully black, and shiny dark stains covered his angry features. He used his boot to push one of the bodies aside, and the blood on his soles made a sticky sound on the sleek floor as he approached. I instinctively receded until my back was pressed painfully against the tunnel wall.

I tried to hide behind my shadow blanket, but he was already in front of me. He lifted my chin with his index finger; his striking dark eyes first scanned my face and then my entire body.

"Are you harmed?" His voice was tight, and he gently put his hand over my stomach.

"No, I'm... We're fine." I felt lightheaded, torn between the instinctive urge to run from the demon and that eternal pull towards him, even when he was like this, even covered in blood and who knew what else.

He curled his lips, exposed his pointy canines, and hissed, "Tell me, mishliktz'in, my sweetest, do you long for death? Do you wish for you, and me, and our unborn child to finally come to our eternal rest? If so, tell me now, kuchun, so I may spend my last breath on something more pleasant than roaming this cursed lair, trying to get you to safety."

I swallowed and sank even deeper into the wall behind me. "I'm sorry. I swear, I didn't mean to do this. I just... I just got so angry. I'm sorry."

His face softened, and he leaned forwards, propping himself up against the wall, locking me in between his arms. He closed his eyes and let his forehead sink against mine. All the tension left his muscles. His chest sank and rose quickly, and all my fear of him disappeared when I realized with a pang of agonizing worry that he was struggling to catch his breath. My Vo'ren, my brave warrior who had used his last strength to protect me from those monsters. And they deserved what they had gotten. I ran my hand over his nape, gently caressing him with my thumb.

I wanted to comfort him, to thank him for saving our lives, but a lump of shame and worry had formed in my throat and kept me from saying the words.

Instead I whispered, "Are you okay?"

A stupid question, after all that had just happened, after what I had just made him do, and it took him a while to answer.

"I am." His breath, still heavy, tickled my face, and he pulled back a little. "But do believe me that I almost died when I saw you step right in front of those humans."

"I'm so sorry." Tears started welling up in my eyes.

He inclined his head. "It is my mistake, not yours. You are inexperienced in combat as well as in your magic." His tone grew sterner as he collected himself more and more. "And I have failed to make one thing clear: until we are out of here, you follow my command. I tell you to stay; you stay. I tell you to run, you run; I tell you to fight, you fight. No arguing. No discussions. No disobedience. Am I understood?"

"Itil, Sheniktz'in," I said and gave him a careful smile.

"Itil, Sheniktz'in, indeed," he snarled, narrowing his eyes. "Come."

He grabbed a fistful of fabric at the small of my back and pulled me along. I kept close to the wall, trying not to look, trying not to touch what lay at our feet, but by the time we turned around the corner and finally left that doomed site behind us, my white tennis shoes were stained crimson red.

I only made it a few more steps before the back of my neck began to prickle. I looked over my shoulder and screamed. The tunnel was suddenly full of bright flickering light. Fire! I grabbed Vo'ren's sleeve, trying to pull him with me as I set off to run, but he held me back.

"It is nothing, ishktz'in." And as he spoke, the light went out as quickly as it had come, leaving no trace behind--not smoke nor smell--like it had never happened.

"What...?" I looked at him open-mouthed, but he only shook his head, absent-mindedly running his middle finger along the edges of the wound on his face.

"When we are out of here."

I wanted to insist, but he narrowed his eyes, and I closed my mouth again, remembering that I had promised to obey mere moments ago.

We walked in silence, passing doors and side corridors, and I was starting to wonder if I had missed the spot Lilly had shown me. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate. My whole body was screaming for rest, and I wanted nothing more than to sleep, sleep, sleep in the safety of his strong arms--for an entire week if possible. I could only imagine how much more exhausted he must be, but except for the occasional uncharacteristic faltering of his steps, Vo'ren didn't let it show.

Instead, he kept holding me tightly by my dress, and I suspected that he was secretly longing to put me on some kind of leash. He didn't even loosen his grip when his radio sounded again, and he used his other hand to pull it out of his pocket. I listened to the distorted voice coming through the speaker, and my heart jumped when I recognized that it was my guard--Sishmik.

My mind was racing while Vo'ren and his subordinate exchanged some words that I didn't understand.

"The old hospital," I whispered.

Vo'ren shot me a warning glance as if he wanted to remind me what my interference had just caused a few minutes ago before he concentrated on his subordinate's report again. I pursed my lips, put my hand on his strong biceps, and gave it an insistent shake to get his attention. He hissed but pressed a button and broke the connection with a brusque word before he directed his golden eyes at me. He was all the stern General Tsul right now; there was no hint of playfulness in his face, and I suddenly felt nervous.

"It's what that rebel said right before..." I stopped and swallowed. Vo'ren narrowed his eyes impatiently, but I had already composed myself. I squared my jaw and looked defiantly back at him. "He said that they kept my roommate Tim prisoner somewhere at the abandoned hospital. Tell your men to search it for the Peruvian." The name tasted like bile in my mouth. "Maybe he's hiding out there."

Vo'ren bared his teeth when I mentioned the FMD leader, pressed the button again, and gave the order. "Osvitelmik ker'tersh." Search the hospital.

Maybe Tim is still there as well. The desperate thought hammered in my mind, but I didn't dare to speak my hopes out loud. It wasn't worth risking Vo'ren's anger, especially since I knew the chances of finding my friend alive were slim.

Vo'ren attached the radio to his belt, and we kept on walking. My eyes scanned the many doors and side corridors, trying to remember the correct turn. It felt like we had been wandering through the rebel's claustrophobic hallway system for an eternity, but actually it probably had been no more than thirty minutes. Then, when I looked down a tunnel to my left, my whole body flooded with relief.

"Here it is!"

A simple door bearing a classic green emergency exit sticker. Three clasps were mounted on the wall next to it; each of them had originally held a shovel, but now one of them was missing.

Vo'ren gave me a quizzical look, and I repeated what Lilly had explained to me. "The rebels built this tunnel as an additional escape route. But they couldn't complete it because the last layer of earth was protected by your magic wards. But as soon as those came down, all they needed to do was dig through the last remaining bit of soil and..."

Vo'ren didn't need any further explanations.

The rage rolling off him was almost tangible as he snarled, "And they would have a nice little passage right into the center of my base." He grabbed one of the shovels and pulled the door open.

A breeze seasoned with the familiar scent of trees and earth hit my face, and I got teary-eyed from relief as I took a deep lungful--the first fresh air in days! Vo'ren very obviously did not share my delight. He let out a long curse in Veril when he saw the steep rising tunnel that ended in a little circle of dark sky high above us. The rudimentary stairs that had been dug into the raw soil were compacted and trampled smooth by many booted feet. It looked like my rebel friend had told me the truth, and the FMD had finally opened the exit to back up their attack on the park.

Vo'ren turned to me; he was swaying a little, and I immediately put my arm around his waist to keep him steady. My whole body purred at his comforting proximity, telling me to never let go of him again. The corners of Vo'ren's mouth twitched in amusement, as if he had read my thoughts.

"Ishktz'in," he said, gently running his crooked index finger over my bruised cheek, his other hand still entangled in my dress. "Is that your doing?"

"What?" Confused, I followed his gaze towards the darkness that hung where the sun should have been, shrouding the Berlin noon outside in darkest night. "Oh, yes. It happened when we were down at the bunker, and I thought you..." I swallowed and tried again, "I thought... well, it just somehow broke out of me, and then it kind of stayed."

"Tutilmik inrun verterek," he growled and looked at me with an unreadable expression. He steadied himself with his free hand on the raw earth of the shaft's wall and pushed me in front of him. "Do you believe it will remain?"

"I think so." I shifted on my feet, a little uneasy about this strangeness that my magic had birthed.

Vo'ren gave me an approving nod that made my insides melt with warm affection and guided me upwards. I ducked my head and started half walking, half crawling up the earthen passage. The tunnel was almost vertical at its end, and my feet slipped on the freshly dug-up dirt. The cool breeze from the opening right above my head felt delicious on my face. When I reached the end, I tried to hoist myself up and out by burrowing my hands into the narrow wall. I ignored the uncomfortable feeling of earth pushing under my fingernails, flailed my feet, and groaned. Vo'ren hissed impatiently behind me, and before I could even yelp, two strong hands had grabbed my thighs right beneath my butt and lifted me upwards.

When my head peeked through the hole, I managed to grab a bushel of wild forest grass and pulled myself outside, gasping with a fleeting bout of pregnant nausea. I quickly turned around to stretch my arm out to Vo'ren, but he was already at my side, crouching on his hands and knees, catching his breath.


He's getting worse, I thought, trying to keep my panic at bay, and my relief of escaping the tunnels vanished as if it had been blown away by the forest breeze. I thought I heard sounds in the distance: screams and the blast of gunshots.

"Where are the Kirtim Shenk?" I asked, urgency ringing in my voice.

Vo'ren slowly stood up, looked around, and bared his pointy teeth. "It pains me to admit, but the human terrorists ultimately had their little underground lair planned out well. We had no idea about this sneaky little attack route." He extended his open palm to point in the direction of the trees to my right. "My men are close," he said. "The main road is not far off; we shall rush to meet them there."

I followed his hand with my eyes. We stood in a clearing in the middle of what looked like a dense forest, the dark leaves of the trees around us swaying ominously against the starless sky. A new fear pierced my heart and sank deep into my bones. It was the same fear my ancestors had felt. The fear of the wild before we had subjugated it with our technologies; the fear of the primal magic of this land, the very magic our Veril occupiers had restored.

I glanced at Vo'ren. During our walks through the park, I had felt safe from the forces around us, reassured by his menacing presence at my side. Not far off. I hoped he was right. He stood tall and straight now, as imposing as usual in his black daylight uniform, but my eyes stuck to the terrible green lines all over his face and hands, and I suspected that he was actually a lot weaker than he was letting on. He caught my concerned glance and smirked again.

"Do not worry, my sweet. It takes more than some lamps to finish me off." He reached behind his back and drew Peace Bringer from its scabbard. "I take it that Ichel has instructed you in the art of the blade? I do not wish to relive the pathetic display you gave when you made an attempt on my life."

Before I could answer, he handed his scimitar to me with an elegant swing of his arm. I stared at him open-mouthed while my fingers closed mechanically around the cold hilt. Last time it had been almost too heavy to lift, but earlier in the bunker Vo'ren had passed his magic on to me, and I still felt its remnants glowing like blue embers in my core. It flowed through my arms up to my fingers as soon as I touched the metal and connected to its owner's weapon, helping me to bear the weight. My whole body tingled, ringing with its power.

"Now that looks much better, ishktz'in." Vo'ren's face shone with warm affection as he looked me up and down, lingering on my form for a second. "Now make haste. I shall guard your back, as Peace Bringer guards your front."

He was smiling, but from the corner of my eye I saw his face grow stern immediately as soon as I looked away, and my stomach clenched.

The temperature dropped a few degrees, and as I stepped out of the clearing and under the dark cover of the trees, a shiver ran down my back. An eerie silence engulfed me, as if all sound had been swallowed by the soft leaf-covered soil and the plants around us. Only my own breath and steps sounded unnaturally loud in my ears. This was not a city park anymore; this was a deep primeval forest, like the ones that had covered this land before we cut them down to build our ships and houses.

Damp air caressed my nape, and I couldn't shake the feeling that someone, something, was watching us. Nervously, I looked over my shoulder, but there was only Vo'ren walking silently behind me, his fluid movements giving no indication of his weakened state. He frowned and made a sharp, impatient gesture with his index and middle finger, ordering me to look ahead while his eyes were scanning the trees around us.

I tried to peek between the stems of the trees to check if I might be able to see the road ahead of us. After all, we were still inside a park, and these woods could not be very extensive. But my darkness over the city had cooled down the summer warmth, turning the mild humidity on the forest floor to fog as it touched the colder air from above. Like thin, wispy gauze, it rose from the gnarly roots and melted into shadows around us, making it impossible to see what lay ahead, even with my night vision.

I tried not to make myself paranoid, tried not to imagine cold hands suddenly reaching out of the dark fuzziness around us and closing around my neck. I tightened my grip around Peace Bringer's hilt until my knuckles were white.

"Ch'ish!" I had stumbled over something soft and heavy on the ground, and only Vo'ren's hand on the back of my dress kept me from falling.

With a feeling of foreboding, I looked down to see what had tripped me up and whimpered: right in front of me lay a body, a Veril body, his dark gray uniform punctured with the same incisions I had seen on the injured rebel in the tunnels.

At the sight of his fallen soldier, Vo'ren made a reverent gesture, touching his index, middle, and ring fingers against his forehead. There was a strange ache in my mark, and he pressed his hand against the small of my back, ushering me ahead.

I didn't need to be told twice. I hurried over twigs and roots as fast as the slippery soles of my tennis shoes allowed. My heart was thumping in my chest, and my skirt ripped even more as it got caught on the thorns of a low-growing bush with tiny bright red berries on its branches. And then, finally, the trees in front of us thinned out, and I thought I saw the faint blue glow of Veril headlights tinting the dark fog between the trunks. I exhaled in shaky relief and was about to take the last steps towards the road when I felt a strange pressure in my mark. I froze. Something was wrong.

"Run, Anna!" Vo'ren's voice was calm, but there lay an urgency in them that I had only heard once before: back in the bunker, when he told me to shut up and listen.

I whirled around. He was in a fighting stance, his broad back towards me, one foot in front and knees bent. And my blood turned to ice when I saw the pair of glowing amber eyes staring right back at him through the mist. It was the unfeeling stare of an enormous animal ready to pounce on its prey. The creature's body was hidden between tree trunks and black fog, but those eyes were at the same level as Vo'ren's. Wild panic shrilled in my mind.

"Run." He hissed again, snapping me out of my stupor.

My terror-stricken body instinctively obeyed the command in his voice. I was already turning, about to take off and sprint through the trees, when I saw him sway. It was almost imperceptible, and had I not known him so well, had I not grown accustomed to the precise way in which he usually moved, I would not have noticed. But this little crack in his perfection, this display of weakness, made my heart clench. I stopped in my tracks and squared my shoulders as my fear turned into stubborn rage.

"No!" I had cried and lamented enough. I was going to fight for us, no matter if a monster straight from hell itself stood in our way; no matter if I died trying. I would not have him taken from me again.

I dove under Vo'ren's arm and stepped in front of him. Peace Bringer's power ran through me as I raised it over my shoulder with both hands. I swung in a slicing motion at the glowing eyes, shouting stupidly at the beast.

"Go away! Leave us alone!"

The tip of my blade struck, and the being moved backwards. I had only grazed it, but I still felt the impact reverberating through my arms up into my shoulders. The beast made a rumbling sound, a mix between thunder and a growl. It was right in front of me, a shape between the trunks, but the night I had created was betraying me, shrouding it in foggy shadows, not allowing me to see more than the outline of its massive form. I felt the being's magic. It was not like the precise and controlled powers of the Veril; it was untamed and wild, just like mine. It told me to yield, to cower and cry, but I ignored the impulse because I knew the moment I faltered we would all be dead.

"I said, leave!" My voice, clear and steady, sounded unreal in the silent forest.

I summoned my power and let my shadows flow into the weapon until it looked as if the blade was burning with black flames. The being in front of me trembled with uncertainty. It possessed its own magic, but mine was stronger. In one quick move, I pulled the scimitar up and struck again, but it was already gone. I could feel its absence more than I could see it.

"Sheniktz'in?"

Veril voices appeared behind me, giving short and precise instructions, and I thought I had never heard a more beautiful sound. Before I was able to turn, a strong arm wrapped around my waist, and Vo'ren picked me up like a bride. For a second, I wanted to protest, but I quickly changed my mind. It felt too good to be held by him.

I had fought a real monster and won! My whole system flooded with relief and a type of strange euphoria that was most likely just the next step on my way to a nervous breakdown. I even had to suppress a giggle when the soldier to my left gave me and my shadow blade a quick and apprehensive glance. He and his comrades fell into formation around us, and I couldn't help but admire the Veril's ability to move as swiftly through the forest as if the surrounding trees didn't exist. I gently leaned my head against Vo'ren's leather armor and concentrated on not poking anybody with Peace Bringer while he carried me out of the woods and onto the dirt road that connected the main base with the city outside.

Five armored Humvee-like vehicles were already waiting for us, and I tasted the strange metallic charge of magic in the air that the motors created. About a dozen soldiers stood next to them, heavily armed and clad in dark daylight uniforms, as if they didn't trust the bubble of night I had created around the city. They all saluted in unison, their fists hitting the chest armor with a satisfying thud, before they formed a circle around our convoy, shielding us from stray rebels as well as from the woods and whatever it was that dwelled in them. In the distance, I heard the crack of gunshots. The sound quickly sobered me up from my elation, and my muscles were tense with the desire to get the injured Vo'ren and my pregnant self out of here as quickly as possible.

He let me down, and when he put his hand on my shoulder to turn me towards him, I childishly closed my eyes. I was too exhausted to deal with another scolding for my disobedience, too confused about my feelings for him to meet the anger in his eyes. But all he did was gently unwrap my fingers that I still clamped tightly around his scimitar's hilt, and the warmth of his skin against mine made me relax. With a metallic scraping sound, he sheathed Peace Bringer in his scabbard, and I blinked up at him.

"My brave little human," Vo'ren said and let his crooked index finger run over my cheek. His smile looked almost disgruntled. "You will have to show me exactly how you did that little trick with my blade."

I shivered. "What in the world was that?"

"An ancient terror born from your world." Vo'ren turned to the vehicle behind us and was just about to pull the door open for us when there was the sound of tires approaching over dusty ground.

I whirled around, about to seek shelter inside the armored Humvee, but then I saw the blue glowing headlights and relaxed. One of ours. The Kirtim Shenk around us parted to let the vehicle through, and with a low hum of its engine, it came to a halt right in front of us. The driver's door opened and a soldier jumped out, his uniform stained and partly ripped. He saluted dutifully to Vo'ren, and then, to my utter surprise, he saluted me as well. For a second, I looked puzzled at the man's dark eyes, almost completely veiled under his headpiece. But then I let out an undignified little yelp of excitement as I recognized Sishmik. Ignoring the somewhat annoyed side glance Vo'ren shot at me, I returned his greeting, heels together and my arm perfectly parallel to the ground.

Sishmik gave me a deep nod and proceeded with a quick report to his general. I tried to listen, but his words seemed to melt into each other, and I understood next to nothing. My mind drifted off, and my distracted gaze wandered over the car in front of me, but then I paused. Where the vehicles backseats should have been, I saw movement. Prisoners? My wrist started to burn with Vo'ren's sharp anger, and my muscles tensed even before I understood the reason. I made out two figures, hogtied with a type of glimmering string not unlike the ones used for the netting at the embassy's treehouse. Holding on to Vo'ren's arm for support, I got on the tips of my toes to have a better view.

And then I saw the blood-smeared chin, covered in a grayish five o'clock shadow, and my vision blurred. I didn't need to see the rest of his face to know who it was. My mind was spiraling. Suddenly I was bound to that tube again, full of fear, desperate because I had failed to protect my child. And the Peruvian's smug face appeared in front of my inner eye, smirking at my misery as he left me as bait for Vo'ren. As he left us to die.

Like in a trance, I reached over to Vo'ren's hip and grabbed Peace Bringer's hilt, tightening my fingers so forcefully it made the metal dig painfully into my palm. The power of the deadly weapon resonated in my core again, and I felt a grim joy when I imagined what I would be able to do with it.

Everybody fell silent, and every soldier's eyes were suddenly on me. Sishmik's gaze flitted quickly between my hand and his General, as if he were unsure whether he should risk his life by jumping between us or not.

But Vo'ren just lifted his arm to give me better access, and I saw my own feelings mirrored in his face. Unlike mine, which was wild, hot, and reckless, his rage was cold, calculated, and so much more terrifying. Calm and deadly, just like his voice, when he spoke.

"Go ahead, mishtz'in. He is yours, if you wish. But be advised: taking a life, even that of this vermin, carries a toll." And his eyes burned with icy fire as he inclined his head to me. "And I would be honored if you allowed me to bear it for you."

Every fiber of my body trembled with the painful desire for revenge. I wanted to carve the Peruvian's arrogance out of his face, cut by cut. I wanted to make him suffer, like he had done with me. I wanted to make him cry and scream and beg for mercy. I wanted to break him. My fingers clasped so tightly around the scimitar, my whole arm was shaking from tension, but Vo'ren's words made me pause.

"What's going to happen to him if I don't...?"

Vo'ren gave me a look that was fit to make entire armies tremble before he said impassively, "I just gave the order to bring him to the prison in Humboldthain until I find myself in better shape. I wish to be in full use of all my powers for his interrogation. But if you have other plans, ishktz'in, I am more than happy to oblige your desires."

I slowly pulled my hand back. "No. Prison is good."

Vo'ren gave me a stern nod, and I thought I saw something akin to respect in his face before he turned to Sishmik again. While I tried to get a grip on myself again, I listened to their exchange.

"Siluk esh'."--There is another one. Sishmik pointed at the car, but Vo'ren made a dismissive gesture.

The guard's eyes shot to me once more. "Milun Shuk Iskichek vukterk, rimitz'k."

This got my full attention. I hadn't understood more than my Veril name, but a terrible suspicion began to dawn on me. Vo'ren's answer was irritated, his order ringing with impatience, while he closed his hand firmly around my wrist and began to pull me towards the Humvee.

"Wait, what was that?" I dug my heels into the ground.

Vo'ren bared his teeth. "My sweetest, most lovely human wife, do I need to remind you that we are in the midst of active combat?"

I ignored the threat in his undertone and looked straight into his face, still breathtakingly beautiful despite his injuries. "Who else is in that car?"

Vo'ren gave a hiss that was so blatantly inhuman I flinched, but it didn't dissuade me. With a brusque movement, I ripped my arm out of his grip and walked around the vehicle, half expecting to get grabbed again. But even though his anger was practically making the air around him sizzle, Vo'ren did not try to stop me.

I inhaled, bracing myself before I looked through the back window, suddenly afraid of what I would find, and then I sobbed. There on the raw metal floor, next to the Peruvian's larger form, lay my roommate, Tim. His body had been tied into a painful contortion. He was naked and had lost weight. The outline of his collarbone was clearly visible underneath his bruised and reddened skin. He had grown a scraggly beard, and his blond hair hung in dirty mats over his face, halfway hiding his expression of pain. But he was alive.

Tears were running over my face as I pulled on the door, screaming in frustration when it wouldn't give.

"Open that fucking car right now!" I kept rattling on the handle until Vo'ren sighed and gave a tired gesture with his hand.

The lock clicked, the door swung towards me, and I almost fell backwards onto my butt with the momentum. Vo'ren had stepped to my side, Peace Bringer drawn, and he was furious. My heart almost stopped when I saw him lift his weapon. Before I could scream, metal flashed, and my entire world turned fuzzy from shock. I expected more blood, more screams, but he had only cut the rope that connected the bindings on my friend's feet with those around his wrists. With one brutal movement, he pulled Tim out, and there was a sickening sound as his naked shins hit the car's body. My friend curled down in pain but managed to get up again even though it looked like he was barely able to stay on his feet.

Before Vo'ren closed the door again, he leaned over to the other prisoner, and his voice--soft, gentle, and ringing with his strange Veril accent--was more terrifying than anything I had ever heard.

"It is a pleasure to meet you again, Rafael. I cannot wait to have a long... conversation with you as soon as I have brought my wife out of this city."

"My sister is going to send you to hell, Butcher," the Peruvian hardly managed to pronounce the words; his eyes were pressed shut in obvious agony. "The FMD will return, and we will be..."

Vo'ren interrupted him with a scoff, and his voice had lost all aloofness as he hissed. "I hope you had the wits to get your sister over the border of this cursed country before you even thought about threatening my wife and child. The Kirtim Shenk do not kill women, but if I get my hands on her, she will wish we did."

About to close the door, he gave me a look, and I nodded, full of understanding. This hatred was something we shared, something that strengthened our connection. His eyes caught on my bruised cheek, and a shadow clouded his features. He bared his teeth and leaned back into the car, blade drawn. Quickly, I turned my head and covered Tim's eyes with my hand, holding on to my friend as I listened to the Peruvian's groans. He was trying to conserve his dignity and keep from screaming, but after a while even the experienced fighter wasn't able to hold back anymore.

Vo'ren slammed the door shut, muffling the agonized wails, and tossed something to the ground as if it were garbage--but I couldn't stop myself from looking. Amidst a small puddle of blood lay ten fingertips cut off just beneath the nail, and with a bout of apprehension, I realized that I felt a deep satisfaction.

With a quick signal from Vo'ren, the car's engine whirred to life, and before I could say anything, he had grabbed my wrist so hard it made me grind my teeth in pain. He pulled Tim and me behind him towards the Humvee, dragging my friend's feet over the dirt on the ground while I hurried along. He pushed both of us onto the backseats, got in behind me, and gave an order to the unknown driver. It was just one word.

"Emvurk."--Hamburg.

For a moment, I barely dared to breathe. With my arms tucked in and my legs pressed together, I sat on the middle seat between Tim and Vo'ren, whose irritation filled the vehicle like static. I looked helplessly at the magnificent General at my side. It was not his temper but his health that worried me. His body looked more or less intact, cuts and strange lines aside, but I feared the sun damage might be eating away at him in his core.

My roommate made a low, miserable sound that snapped me out of my momentary paralysis. I reached to undo the ropes behind Tim's back and winced. A sharp pain shot through my hand as soon as my fingers came in contact with the soft fiber. I shook my head in disbelief at the Kirtim Shenk's cruelty and braced myself for the second try. Vo'ren closed his fingers around my wrist and pulled me away. I gave him a warning scowl and tried to yank my arm free. For a moment we glared at each other, and just when I was about to soften, he sighed in resignation.

He said something to our driver, who handed him a short knife that Vo'ren in turn passed on to me in a ridiculous game of relay. I rolled my eyes; for a while I had forgotten just how irritating he could be when he was trying to keep me unsullied by the touch of other men.

I turned to Tim, who had observed our wordless struggle with an unreadable look on his face, and quickly cut the restraints around his wrists.

"Danke." It was the first word he said, and tears shot to my eyes again as I watched him caress the red welts left by the ropes.

"One move, German," Vo'ren remarked as I leaned down and got rid of the ties around Tim's ankles. "And your neck will be relieved of your head quicker than you can say Gnade."

"Understood," Tim let out a shaky breath and scooted away from me as much as his seat allowed.

For a while we sat in awkward silence. There were so many questions I wanted to ask my friend and so many more things I wanted to say to Vo'ren. But my brain wasn't even at the verge of processing all the last hours' events. Ever since I woke up tied to that chair, I had been fueled by constant panic. And now, at this first little moment of calm, it was as if I had lost the ability to function.

The tires rolled with a soothing sound over the asphalt, and I forced myself to relax. Absentmindedly, I caressed the soft leather underneath my leg. It was a nice car, with a simple and comfortable interior, just like the General's official vehicle he used for diplomatic visits. I looked past the driver's uniformed shoulder at the road outside. The capital was still shrouded in darkness, and I was still mesmerized and confused by this strange night that had sprung from the union of our powers--from my love for him. I brushed my little finger against his muscular thigh, and he covered my hand with his. A liquid current of warmth ran through me at his touch, and suddenly I felt a wild happiness as I realized we were all still here, all still alive.

We had left the park and were now crossing a silent, empty city. Its inhabitants had understandably decided to stay inside, likely believing the end of all days had finally come. But every now and then, there was movement. Ungraspable, yet undeniably there in the empty spaces in between, at the edges of my vision. Dark shapes and figures at the doors of corner shops, between recycling containers and bicycle racks that seemed to disappear as soon as I looked directly at them. And at least once, I thought I glimpsed the glow of eyes.

I pulled my shadows around us, trying to shield our convoy from whatever lingered outside, and looked at Vo'ren, who nodded with a grim expression.

"With the wards around the Main Base down, there is nothing to hold the old magic in."

I did not want to inquire further what he meant with this ominous phrase. I was barely keeping my sanity as it was and completely unable to process any more bad news.

"Do you think you'll be able to hold out until we get to Hamburg?" I turned to Tim, glad I had found my voice again.

My friend nodded; he had leaned his head against the door, eyes closed and his hands crossed awkwardly over his crotch. I suddenly became aware that he was still completely naked, and a knot formed in my throat when I assessed the state he was in. The few parts of his usually pale skin that were not bruised looked red and irritated, as if he had been in the sun for too long.

"Take your shirt off," I said to Vo'ren, who raised one of his brows, giving me a surprised yet intrigued look.

I made an impatient noise with my tongue. "Not for that." I gestured over to my roommate. "He can't stay like that."

When he understood my true intention, Vo'ren's expression darkened, and he sneered, "I am failing to see why not." He looked my flimsy shadow dress up and down and added, "But if you are so desperate to help this human, you are free to provide him with your own clothes. I cannot deny that it would improve my enjoyment of our travel enormously if I had the pleasure of looking upon your naked form instead of his."

Pretending I hadn't heard him, I began to unbuckle the leather straps on his arms and shoulders that held the armor in place. My fingers worked with quick, practiced strokes. It was a movement I had repeated countless times over the last few weeks, and somehow the muscle memory and my hands against his broad chest also triggered another reaction in my body, filling me from head to toe with a tingling anticipation.

Leaning halfway over him, I looked up and my eyes met his. My hands stilled. All his annoyance had vanished, and his face was full of raw affection and something else. He bowed down to me, and slowly, as if I were guided by an external force, I closed the remaining distance; my lips half-parted when they met his. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me towards him. I was half straddling him now, one leg kneeling on my seat and the other splayed over his lap, my tattered skirt bunched up at the height of my hips.

My mouth watered from the taste of his breath, and I melted into him as I returned the caress of his warm lips with mine. Finally, finally. I had been longing for this since that terrible night he left. Careful not to touch his injuries, I entangled my fingers in his hair. His scent enveloped me, and my whole being hummed with a feeling of rightness. This right here, in my general's arms, his strong body between mine, was exactly where I needed to be, where I belonged. He laid his hand on my calf, and there was something in the way his fingers dug into my muscles, a desperate need to hold me, a fear of losing me that mirrored my own, that made me shatter inside.

"Vo'ren, I..." His name felt like a revelation when I whispered against his skin, but I was unable to finish my sentence.

It had been so easy to confess my feelings to him down in the bunker when I thought we were about to die. But now everything was infinitely more complicated. My emotions overwhelmed me, and I choked on my tears. But he understood. A deep vibration spread from my left wrist down my arm and into my core: his joy running through my nerves. It made me feel as if I were floating.

"Anna," was all he replied, and his voice broke on the last syllable.

With one strong arm still tight around my waist, he let his other hand run up my exposed skin, lingering and drawing circles on the sensitive inside of my thigh. I was getting wet, anticipating him sliding his fingers between my legs to enter me. I knew he could smell my arousal; knew the driver could as well, but I didn't care. I liked the idea that Vo'ren was able to sense the effect he had on me, that my body confirmed my lips' confessions, confirmed that I belonged to him.

Torn between relief and trauma, I let the intoxicating feeling of being close to him carry me away until everything else faded into the background. All of my unanswered doubts and questions didn't matter anymore. I had missed him so much, and he had come to save me, to sacrifice his life for mine. And I was more than ready to give all of myself to him, yearning to connect our bodies as deeply, as inseparably, as our souls. It didn't bother me that we weren't alone. There was nothing shameful about our union, and as far as I was concerned, the whole world could bear witness to it.

Vo'ren's hand wandered higher on the inside of my thigh, but right before it reached my swollen folds, he laid his palm flat against my skin and moved it to my back, where he sank his fingers appreciatively into the roundness of my butt.

The possessiveness made my heart jump, and I slid a little bit further onto his lap until I was straddling him completely, never breaking our devoted kisses. Peace Bringer's hilt dug painfully into my inner thigh. I hardly noticed it. He inhaled and pulled me closer against his strong body, against the hard bulge underneath his pants. I parted my mouth to let my tongue slide gently over his lower lip. An unspoken invitation to give me his venom and finally have his way with me, right here on the backseat of this Humvee.

A deep voice crackled over the intercom, probably an officer seeking his general's instructions. Vo'ren gently pulled away from me and answered. Frustrated with unfulfilled desire, I let my forehead rest against the nook where his neck met his shoulder. I breathed in his intoxicating scent and listened to his beautiful voice. His tone was as stern and serious as always, but while he spoke, his thumb traced tender circles over my waist, caressing me as he gave his orders. Then there was a rustle of static, and the connection was cut once more.

With an incredulous little chuckle, Vo'ren leaned his head back against his seat. "Itil ishktz'in, you can have my shirt." He let go of my waist and gently brushed his finger over my cheek. "You can, in fact, have my everything, so long as it makes you happy."

Before I was able to reply, he adjusted his position and carefully moved me onto my seat. For a second I wanted to protest, but his message was clear. He took his chest armor and the black, loose-fitting shirt of his daylight uniform off and handed the latter to me. I grabbed it, breathing in deeply and trying to pull my flustered self together.

"Put on your seatbelt," his soft voice was tinted with only the slightest bit of irritation.

Blushing and strangely embarrassed, I obeyed before I turned to Tim. My friend seemed to have recovered a little and was looking intently out of his window, his matted hair hiding his eyes from mine.

"Here," I waved Vo'ren's shirt in front of his face to call his attention.

He took it and pulled it over his head without a word. The upper part of the daylight uniform was long, almost like a tunic, and since Vo'ren was considerably taller than my roommate, it actually provided Tim with decent coverage. After slightly adjusting his strange new outfit, he turned and looked out of the window again.

Somehow, I got the impression that he was angry. This stubborn cold-shoulder treatment was the same passive-aggressive behavior I had come to know too well during our periodical discussion about my dirty mugs in the sink, my dirty mugs in the living room, and my dirty mugs next to the bathtub.

I rolled my eyes. "And what's your problem now?"

I knew how grossly unfair this was. He had been tortured and starved, and his conduct was likely the result of exhaustion and nothing else. But I was exhausted, too, and my nerves were chafed raw. I had no energy to keep up any type of mental shield that might have filtered my emotions.

"Nothing."

I clicked my tongue irritatedly. He turned to me, and there was no emotion in his dark-circled eyes. His head sank against the backrest again, as if it were too heavy for his neck, as if looking at me had been too much effort already.

He pressed his lids closed. "I've spent half of last month trying to free you, the other half trying to keep the FMD from using you as bait, and during the last two weeks I was literally getting the shit beaten out of me on a daily basis because I wouldn't give them any useful intel on you. Please forgive me for thinking a little heads-up that you actually like the guy might have been nice."

"I did write that I wanted to stay with him," I replied lamely.

"Did you?" His voice was weary. "The last message I got from you was the picture of that stupid map."

Feeling like he had brutally slapped me back to reality, I shrank into my seat. This meant I had been writing to the Peruvian practically during the entirety of my captivity. I glanced over at Vo'ren. He was calm, his head resting against the door and his eyes closed as he used this brief moment of respite to convalesce. His black, form-fitting undergarment almost looked like a modern t-shirt, and were it not for the green skin, marred with dark lines, battle scars, and glowing markings, or the scimitar strapped around his waist, it would have almost been possible to mistake him for a very large human man.

Had he really planted that doomed map, as Paul had told me? The answer was most likely yes, and that meant I could not allow myself to be fooled again. Vo'ren was dangerous. Dangerous to his enemies, but also to those close to him. Also to me. Especially to me, since something about him made me lose all reason. I used to believe that this was due to his venom or that he might even have bewitched me in some way. But more and more I was beginning to think that it was something else entirely, something bigger, something that was out of his control--just as much as it was out of mine.

And even though every cell in my body hummed with love for him, even though I was inclined to believe that he felt the same for me. I couldn't let myself get carried away by my feelings before he had given me satisfying answers to all those questions--for my own safety, for the safety of our unborn child, and for the safety of everybody I loved.

I bent to the floor, picked up the little knife I had used on Tim's ropes, and ran its sharp tip over the back of my left hand, hoping the thin cut might serve as a reminder and help me to keep my wits whenever my hormones, or whatever this was, should tempt me to lose my head again. A tiny drop of blood ran down my hand and over my middle finger. The incision burned a little, but over the last few weeks, pain had slowly lost its meaning, and I didn't even blink.

"Anna?"

I looked up to meet Tim's blue eyes and quickly hid my cut hand under my thigh. I hadn't noticed him watching me.

"Um," he swallowed. "I'm sorry for what I just said."

I shook my head, but he continued, talking fast, as if he were afraid to lose momentum. "I have no idea what you've been through, but I'm sure it was hell, and no matter if I get it or not, I'm glad you found a way to stay safe and keep him from hurting you."

With a wry smile, he added, "Besides, you know about my exes. I'm really not in the position to judge anybody's taste in men."

I made a weird sound, a mix between a sob and laughter, as I pulled my friend into a big hug. Ignoring the sting in my wrist, I only let go when Tim inhaled sharply. I had completely forgotten about his injuries.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry!"

"It's fine. They made sure not to hit any vital organs, so it's mainly just bruises." He forced his bearded face into a smile, but I could see the toll our conversation was taking on his weak body, and my stomach twisted with guilt.

"No really. I'm so sorry! For everything."

"Anna, it's not your fault. I'm an idiot for getting myself involved with the rebels in the first place." He closed his eyes and sank back into his seat again. His breath came in heavy gulps.

I watched him helplessly as he drifted away into a state between sleep and unconsciousness, and worry twisted my soul into a knot. My eyes wandered to the city outside, hoping our ride would not take too long. We were shooting down an empty avenue. With no other cars on the roads, our driver had no need to hold back, and the buildings, stores, and trees turned into a dark blur as they rushed past our windows.

"What are you going to do with Berlin?" I kept my voice low so that I wouldn't disturb Tim's rest.

Vo'ren opened one eye and looked at me; it was such an endearing expression my heart jumped, but the joy was soon replaced with anxiety when I heard his indifferent response.

"The same thing I have done in the south."

"Evacuate?" I asked, feeling bleak.

"Close the city off before we sweep it thoroughly."

I nodded. To my own surprise, I felt myself agreeing with this. The thought of even a single FMD member escaping made bile rise up my throat. We crossed the canal; the dark waters were nothing more than a black streak underneath the bridge, and I shivered. What would become of this city? The city that had risen at my call, the city I had led to its doom.

"Practically all FMD members are men," I whispered, and Vo'ren turned fully towards me, his golden eyes fixating me with an unreadable expression. "Close Berlin off, but let women and children leave before you... sweep."

He raised his eyebrows. "How delightful to learn that in addition to her many other qualities, my little human is also an expert on military strategy." He ran his thumb condescendingly over my cheek, chuckling when I brushed it off. "Is there any more advice you have for me, or do you not offer your immense insight for free?"

"Actually, I do," I said, glaring at him. "I think Gruber is in league with the terrorists."

Surprise flitted over his face, and I felt a smug satisfaction when I saw it.

"What leads you to believe that?" He leaned closer to me; his voice was low, and the slight accent made my whole body tingle.

"Well, when the Peruvian called you, I recognized Gruber's voice. I think he used, like, some special line to contact you." Vo'ren nodded, and I realized that this was probably not news to him. "And when I was with Suchil Tem, Gruber showed me... us some pictures." I pressed my eyes shut. Tears burned behind my lids. "A dead family, young children. He said that you killed them." My wrist stung, and I added quickly, "But later I found out that it had actually been the FMD."

He hissed and leaned forward to our driver, but I was not finished.

"Vo'ren?" When I said his name, he immediately turned back to me. Anxiety constricted my chest as I was desperately searching for the right words. "When I saw those photos, I believed him, because..." Tears started streaming down my cheeks. "Because there was that bear figurine I gave you right next to a little boy."

He exhaled and looked out of the window, a strange, unreadable expression on his features.

"Mishtz'in," he began and paused.


I felt like I couldn't breathe; my whole being waited tensely for his reply. To my left, Tim stirred, and Vo'ren's face closed up again.

He shook his head and narrowed his eyes. "My sweet, allow me to get you out and to a safe place, where we may speak privately."

I opened my mouth to protest when Tim made a strange rattling sound that had all the hairs on my body stand up in panic. Vo'ren sighed impatiently and bowed down to retrieve a large, shadow gray military backpack from underneath the seat in front of him--probably some kind of emergency supply kit-- and detached a leather flask from its side. After taking a deep sip, he handed it to me.

"Drink."

I wiped my eyes before I lifted the silver mouthpiece to my lips and recognized the bitter taste of herbs. It was the same infused water Vik Ichel had given me after my binding, and just like then, I instantly felt better, more steady and energized, as if I'd just taken a deep refreshing nap.

Rolling his eyes, Vo'ren flicked his hand dismissively in Tim's direction. I poked my friend's shoulder to make him look up, but he didn't move.

"Scheiße!" I cursed, leaning over him.

I placed my hand under his stubbly chin and carefully lifted his head to press the flask against his lips. I fed him the potion drop by drop, relieved when he responded and swallowed. He scrunched his nose at the unpleasant flavor, shook his whole body like a wet dog, and squeezed his eyes shut. Relief released the tension in my nerves, making me burst into a small, snorting laugh when I saw his expression.

For a moment, he remained motionless, and I started worrying again, but then he pulled himself up. He was not cured or even halfway recovered but seemed considerably more energized. He gave me an astonished look.

"Wow. We're really nothing but savages compared to them, aren't we?"

I leaned down to reattach the bottle to the backpack and shrugged. I knew this feeling of inadequacy in the face of Veril science and technology just too well.

"Human," Vo'ren's voice cut harshly through the confined space of the car, and I automatically became alert, ready to intervene or even throw myself in between him and Tim at any moment.

"Your house has been under our surveillance for a long time. You have been collaborating with the Peruvian for many moons; you gave his terrorists access to your basement and the underground system that lies below; you passed the intel my Anna sent you on to him. Why is it that you have been imprisoned by your own comrades after all that you have done for them?"

Tim stayed surprisingly calm, but the way he knotted his fingers together betrayed his fear.

"They..." He cleared his throat. "They caught me trying to get my phone back."

"And for what purpose did you intend to do this?" Vo'ren asked with a steely undertone.

A tired, joyless smile appeared on Tim's lips. "To warn Anna about the FMD."

Vo'ren scoffed. "And you expect me to believe that, after you have been endangering her safety for so long?"

Tim shrugged. "That's why I did it; the guilt's been eating me up." Vo'ren narrowed his eyes, but my friend didn't look away, and after holding the General's gaze for a moment, he added, "It probably would have been better if you'd just killed me that night you took her."

I flinched, but Vo'ren lowered the corners of his mouth in agreement. "Were there other prisoners?"

"Actually, yes." Tim looked even more dejected now. "Just one. A soldier of yours, I think. Was wearing a green uniform and a big silver helmet when they brought him into the cell. Before they stripped him, of course." He coughed and pulled on the hem of his tunic. "They'd managed to capture him during their attempt on the Head Counselor. We shared a cell, and I..." He inhaled shakily before he spoke again; pain crossed his dirt-smudged face. "I had to watch all the things they did with him."

Vo'ren raised his brows impassively. "And had that soldier revealed what Suchil Tem was doing in the south?"

Tim stayed quiet for a moment. "Shouldn't you know that?"

Vo'ren's voice went calmer and noticeably cooler. "You answer my questions, human, or you will soon wish you were back at the terrorists' prison."

My friend swallowed, and his eyes flitted quickly over to me. "He was looking for something. Information. About that woman who cursed your kind. The Veril said she was human and that there are legends saying she's from Heidelberg, but the Counselor actually thought she might have been from somewhere else."

He interrupted himself, looked at me with an almost puzzled expression, and switched to German. "Anna, I've been meaning to tell you this. It's so strange." He changed to English again. "He thought that she was actually from Bammental."

Vo'ren bared his teeth and looked at me. "Your birthplace."

I didn't ask how he knew that; my head was spinning. "I have been dreaming of her," I whispered to Vo'ren. "Ever since the night you left, I have been dreaming I was her. I saw it all: the forest, the palace, my... her baby."

Vo'ren narrowed his eyes. At one of his orders, the car's intercom sprang to life, and he gave a succession of quick instructions. My brain was rattling, too busy processing this new information for me to be able to understand anything.

Tires screeched as our entire convoy made a synchronized U-turn. We were so fast the whole city around us blurred into streaks of dark colors. From afar, I caught a glimpse of the long guns and the dark gray metal bodies of gigantic tanks rolling down the avenue to our right, pale blue lines and triangles gleaming eerily on their flanks. But before I could take a closer look, they were out of sight. Trees and branches rushed past our window, gravel crunched beneath the wheels, and I didn't need to see the shining dome ahead to know where we were headed.

I grabbed on to the fabric of Vo'ren's sleeve, as if I might be able to stop this unexpected course of events, but our car had already come to an abrupt stop in front of the little creek that surrounded the Veril embassy. He pushed the door open and motioned for me to follow, and I knew that this was not the moment to question his order.


While I was still fumbling with my seatbelt, Vo'ren had already jumped out of the car. He leaned back in, grabbed the military backpack from under the seat with one hand and my wrist with the other before he pulled me outside. The air was fresh and cool, smelling of wet earth.

Kirtim Shenk soldiers appeared out of nowhere. They were all around us, standing guard on the perimeter of the magic dome, rifles and spears drawn. One of them jumped to our side and sat down on my former seat inside the car. I watched in shock as he took the assault rifle he had worn around his shoulders and placed it demonstratively on his lap, the muzzle pointing loosely in my roommate's direction. I wanted to protest, but everybody was moving too fast, and before I could squeak, the engines hummed to life. Within a few seconds, the convoy was gone, and my friend with it, leaving nothing behind but a cloud of dust and deep tire tracks in the gravel road.

"No!" I tried to turn around, but Vo'ren held me in his iron grasp and kept dragging me mercilessly along, an escort of half a dozen soldiers at our side. "Where are you bringing him?"

My wrist burned. Vo'ren made an annoyed hissing sound and picked me up, ignoring my screams of frustration.

The warriors standing guard around the glowing dome stepped aside and saluted their general. Vo'ren gave them a little nod, stretched out his hand, and the hissing force field calmed as soon as it touched the markings on his skin. When we stepped through, all I felt was the usual liquid pressure in the air around us. As soon as we entered the embassy's territory, he stopped and let me down. It was only the two of us again since his soldiers had stayed outside.

"You may speak now." He said, but he looked tense and his eyes scanned the dark sky above us.

"What are they going to do with him?" Angry tears welled up in my eyes as I glared at Vo'ren, who looked infuriatingly disinterested in my roommate's fate.

"Calm yourself, my sweet. Your friend is on his way to my city, where he will be held until we have verified his story." I breathed in, trying to catch air for the tirade I was about to unleash, but Vo'ren held his palm up to silence me. "My men have the strictest orders to keep him safe until a verdict has been reached; a healer will see to his injuries as soon as he arrives; and should his story prove to be true, he shall receive a favor with me to honor his bravery."

"And if it's not true?" I snarled.

"Then he will be executed," Vo'ren stated in a matter-of-fact manner.

He turned on his heels and set off to cross the bridge above the little stream. After a few steps he looked over his shoulder; his eyebrows drew together, and his expression darkened when he saw that I hadn't followed.

"My sweet, are you aware of the significance should your friend have lied to us? Are you aware that it would imply that he has betrayed you, that he was complicit in the terrorist's plot to use you and our child to get to me? That he is likely trying to spy on us even now? Do you not think that those are crimes that not even the sternest punishment could requite?"

He was right. Sudden anger gripped my soul, but I fought it down. No, Tim would never! But if that was the case, I had nothing to worry about. I closed my eyes and gave Vo'ren a nod.

"Well then, may we proceed, kuchun?" His tone was impatient, but he stretched his hand out to me and gently placed it on the small of my back as soon as I reached his side.

Reassured by his presence, I scooted closer until my naked shoulder touched his shirt. He wrapped his arm around my waist, and we walked up to the wooden doors in silence; the only sound came from the light burbling of the stream behind us and the whisper of the wind in the trees. I was about to push the gate open when my eyes caught on the little cut at the back of my hand. Don't get too comfortable with him before you have real answers, I reminded myself and took a tiny step away.

"What do you want to see the Counselor for?"

Vo'ren gave me a mocking smirk. "Do you believe this to be his home? Suchil Tem, leader of the Shadow Realm, does not reside in the embassy of his lowly colonies."

I grimaced back at him. "I know he doesn't live here. And since when are we a colony?" I added pointedly. "I thought we were a sovereign nation under Veril protection."

Vo'ren laughed at that, showing his pointy teeth, and he was so infuriating and beautiful at the same time that it took all my self-restraint not to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him into a deep kiss.


After a moment, his face turned serious again, and he said, "We are not here to see the Counselor nor any other exasperating politician, but I think it might be necessary to pay the Great Conduit a visit." With that, he laid his palm against the door, and it swung open.

The round hall was cool and empty; no flickering torches sent reflexes over its smooth stone walls, and the water basin in its middle was a dark, unmoved void that mirrored the sky above.

"The Conduit? I asked and flinched as a loud echo reverberated through the empty space. I lowered my voice to almost a whisper. "Is she here?"

"She is not." Vo'ren replied. He was crossing the room in strides so long I had to jog to keep pace with him. "We have a bit of a journey ahead of us."

A journey? "Wait! What do you mean?" I grabbed his arm and snarled at him through gritted teeth. "For once in your life, Tsul Vo'ren, grant me a second of your precious time and tell me what's going on!"

He inhaled, stopped, and looked at the round opening in the middle of the roof and the darkness that still hung above it. "Very well, my sweet. As you know, something happened when we were in the terrorists' lair." He drew down the corners of his mouth with a wary expression. "Something that should not have been possible, that is against the laws of nature herself."

I trembled, and so did the shadows around me, my shadows that had somehow birthed this eternal night over Berlin. What would become of it if I left the city? It might vanish or even come with me, but I somehow got the feeling that it was going to stay just where it was, holding the wonderful, treacherous capital in its embrace.

"When day turns night?" I asked, and he nodded grimly.

"Tutilmik inrun verterek." Vo'ren's hoarse voice was amplified by the wide hall around us, making it sound deeper and more ancient.

And time stands still. I was too afraid to say the words out loud, terrified of the magnitude they implied, but I saw my suspicion confirmed in his golden eyes.

"And if your friend told the truth, you stem from the same town as the Curse Bearer." He shot a glance at the statue at the end of the hall and quickly touched three fingers to his forehead.

"And since you are a descendant of the cursed king, that's just too big of a coincidence," I added dryly.

He raised his eyebrows in mild surprise but remained silent.

"You are, aren't you?" I insisted.

He scrutinized me with narrowed eyes. "May I ask by what means you came to this information?"

"I dreamt about your dad, the king." I glared right back at him. "May I ask you to give me a straight answer for once, mishtz'in?"

"He was not my dad." He inclined his head, a little smirk in the corner of his mouth. "I am not quite that old. But you are correct, ishktz'in, the cursed king was what you would call my great-grandfather."

A shiver ran down my spine, and I laid a hand on my belly, trying to sense the royal offspring inside of me. My poor little butterfly.

"How is that even possible? I thought the last Veril girls were born the same time as the king's daughter?"

He bared his pointy teeth. "I do not see how that is of your concern, little human, but my kind's lives are long, and my mother was older than my father. He married her after her former husband had passed."

For the first time I considered that maybe Vo'ren had been evasive about his family and his past not only to keep me uninformed but also because it was a somewhat touchy subject for him--well, too bad.

"It's very much of my concern, little prince; your parents are my in-laws, after all."

I squared my stance, ready to weather his angry outburst, but after staring at me for a moment, he broke into laughter. "Little prince--vech'ikitin--that is what the other soldiers used to call me when I was a new recruit in the Kirtim Shenk."


I was suddenly overwhelmed by my affection for the man in front of me. His skin was still marred by the terrible lines; the cut on his face looked painfully fresh, and now that he was in his short-sleeved undershirt, I saw that he also had a pretty nasty injury on his right arm. But still, there was nothing in the world more beautiful than Vo'ren when he laughed. Even here, in the middle of the eerie embassy wrapped in my eternal night, he shone like a warm summer day. I took a step closer and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. His body felt warm beneath the light fabric of his shirt.

"Are your comrades using your royal title to bully you, Sheniktz'in?" I pouted and playfully fluffed his soft hair.

He chuckled. "Do not worry; I have not been called that word for a long time." He paused a moment and considered, "Except by Ichel."

I laughed and pulled him closer to me. He swayed again. I tightened my grip, but he made a strange sound, and I watched helplessly as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He went completely limp and sank down. I tried to hold him upright, my arms wrapped around his chest, but it was an impossible task. He was too heavy, too massive, and all I managed to do was to somewhat slow down his fall as I tumbled to the ground with him. I grabbed hold of one of the stairs that led to the platform, painfully chafing my forearm over the stone before I landed on my butt with Vo'ren's head on my thighs.

Panicked, I pressed my fingers to his neck and was only slightly relieved to find a pulse. I had once taken a first-aid course, two mandatory sessions over a weekend before I received my driver's license, but I had practically forgotten everything we had learned. Besides, what did I know about Veril anatomy? Not much except for the reproductive aspects of it. Desperately, I looked around the hall. Vo'ren had dropped the gray backpack, and I stretched out my whole body to reach one of its straps with my fingertips and pulled it towards me.

I yanked off the leather flask with the energizing potion, propped Vo'ren's head up, and held it to his lips. The amber-colored liquid spilled, running over his face and down his neck, but he managed to swallow a few drops of it. I waited, but nothing happened.

Suppressing a sob, I rummaged through the bag looking for something of use. I found all kinds of things: another knife, a strange net, a smooth roll of fabric that might have been a compressed tent, and a few promising-looking leather satchels that, upon further inspection, only contained rations of dried meat, fruit, and mushrooms. There was even a kind of first aid kit, with needles, shimmering white string, soft moss, and bandages, but nothing that could have helped me revive my unconscious general.

I needed to get help. His soldiers were standing guard outside the embassy; I would have to go and ask them to send a healer. I strained my flustered brain, desperately trying to scramble my rudimentary Veril vocabulary together. Would they even be able to pass through the protective field? I looked anxiously at the night sky above and paused when I saw the twinkle of a little star.

How was that even possible? Was this dome of darkness more than just shadows? Had I somehow created real night? I looked at Vo'ren and at the horrible lines all over his skin caused by the artificial sun, and a desperate idea formed in my mind. I picked up the potion again, and just like I had done with Peace Bringer, I let my shadows flow inside, infusing it with my darkness. A little cloud of black vapor appeared at the flask's opening, swirling upwards in little spirals, and I put the metal mouthpiece to his lips again. The liquid, now dark and glimmering, dripped into his mouth; he swallowed reflexively, gasped, and stopped breathing.


My mind turned blank with panic. What had I done? Vo'ren started coughing terribly, and I tried to yank his torso upwards to keep him from choking; I was sobbing.

"Anna."

It was barely the hint of a breath, but my entire being clenched with hope.

"Vo'ren, are you okay?"

His eyes were closed and his brows drawn in an expression of agony.

"More," he said with a raspy voice.

I quickly channeled my shadows back into the bottle and held it to his mouth. He drank with deep, greedy gulps, and after a few sips he was able to sit up by himself. He took the flask in his hands, but I kept my fingers pressed against it, filling the liquid with night to combat the sun damage inside of him. And to my amazement I saw the dark green lines on his skin receding as if they were pulling back into themselves. When there was no drop left, he shakily lifted himself up on his feet, crouching in front of me. After a few deep breaths, he seemed steady again.


"Much better," he exhaled and pulled me into a rough kiss.

It felt bittersweet and tasted like clean air, and all I wanted was to pull him against me and hold him safe forever, but he had already gotten up. I followed, and he gave me a tired smile, inclining his head.

"I may be the goddess's favorite after all. Why else would she have sent you to me?"

I gave a surprised little hiccup, a mix of a laugh and a wail, and caressed his cheek. "Yes, Vo'ren, if the gods have a favorite, I'm sure it's you."

He chuckled, but my heart skipped a beat when I looked at the dark lines underneath his skin. As we were talking, I could watch them grow again, expanding like an organic structure until their pattern was as dark and dense as it had been before. I clasped my hand over his upper arm, afraid he would faint again.

"We have to get you to a healer. To a hospital."

He rolled his shoulders, stretched his neck, and straightened. "I am fine. My body is merely adapting to the absence of magic."

I shook my head incredulously. "You just fainted; you're not fine! We need to get you checked."

He narrowed his eyes, and when he spoke, his tone was that of the stern General again. "Do not insult me by assuming that I cannot judge my own capacities."

"It didn't look like you could a few moments ago." I glared at him.

The way he towered over me, standing strong and straight, returning my angry gaze, he definitely seemed to be back in form. Our silent altercation was abruptly interrupted by the drawn-out wail of sirens resounding in the city around us, filtering in through the open ceiling. All my muscles tensed with fright, but Vo'ren placed his hand reassuringly on my back.

"My wind riders have arrived. We leave now, ishktz'in. Do not worry; the Conduit is my realm's most powerful healer; after our consultation, she might be inclined to restore both of us to our former shape." He calmly, yet insistently, pushed me ahead toward the platform.

"No wait," The sirens recalled unwanted memories of that night he had left me alone in the deserted camp. "Vo'ren, I haven't been able to get a hold of my parents. Before we go anywhere, can you please find out if they're okay? Call someone and send them to their house if you have to."

My voice was shaking, and I felt incredibly guilty. Guilty that I hadn't thought of them before when we were still in the car and guilty for bothering him in his current state.

He kept ushering me up the stairs, but I clearly saw him draw down the corners of his mouth. And despite my nagging worry about his health, I hated him at that moment. Didn't he command an army more powerful than anything my world had ever seen? Didn't he have millions of men under his command? If he was in good enough shape to travel and visit the Conduit, he was definitely capable of giving a few orders over his radio. I had saved him several times today, and yet he made me beg and debase myself even for this little favor.

I bared my teeth at him. "What use are you to me as a husband if you..."

He interrupted me. "My in-laws are safe and cared for. I had them brought to my city before I deployed my troops to the south." His tone was condescending, as if he deemed this information too trivial to disclose.

"What? And did you ever plan on telling me about that? Or am I still just your little toy, not important enough to learn about the fate of my own family?"

I stumbled onto the platform, wishing he would stop and look at me. Tears of relief and frustration filled my eyes as the toll of everything I had endured the last few days had me on the verge of a nervous breakdown. "Why do you never tell me anything, Vo'ren?"

"Mishtz'in," he snarled. "I loathe to repeat myself, but it is not the time for this. Trust me that I have had good reasons to keep you uninformed. Mostly for your own protection. I shall answer your questions once we have crossed, so long as you make haste now and allow me to bring you to safety before the riders strike." We had reached the statue of the human queen, and he finally paused.

"Crossed?" Even before the word had left my lips, I already knew what it meant.

"To the Shadow Realm." Dark shapes passed over the night-black midday sky above the opening, and I thought I heard the flap of giant wings.

Vo'ren snapped his fingers just like I had seen him do so many times before. Usually this was how he summoned a spark of magic, but the clacking sound echoed through the hall, and nothing happened.

"Where is the portal?" I asked, and my voice came out softer than anticipated. Despite everything, I couldn't help but feel a little giddy, nervous but excited about the journey ahead.

Vo'ren made an elegant gesture indicating the perimeter of the hall with his open palm.

"So there never was one in Volkspark Friedrichshain? That's what the Peruvian thought."

"The Peruvian thinks the gate is at the Main Base because he does not know that my powers allow me to move my troops through the city without being detected." He bared his fangs and looked contritely down at me. "Yet tonight, I am afraid I require your assistance, my sweet--a spark of your magic." He pointed at the statue right in front of us. "To open the passage."

I swallowed. "They discovered the portal in Hamburg after an entire cargo ship loaded with ammunition exploded right on top of it. I don't think my powers are quite that strong."

Vo'ren gave me a puzzled look, then he leaned his head back and laughed, steadying himself with one hand on the pedestal. "Anna, this entire city, this entire realm, is currently trembling before your magic. A mere explosion is nothing compared to even a wisp of your darkness."

He shook his head and straightened up. With one step, he was behind my back, pulling me tightly against him by my waist, and I felt a little reassured that his physical strength had seemingly returned. He gently closed his other hand around my wrist and lifted my fingers until they aimed directly at the spot where the statue of the queen was gently touching her chest.

"Now, mishtz'in, do not be afraid. I will hold you safe during the crossing." His low voice caressed my ear, and goosebumps ran all over my body.

I concentrated on my magic and tried to fortify it by using the connection between us. I closed my eyes and relaxed into him. He is here, and we're together, and there is no place on Earth I'd rather be than in Vo'ren's arms. I felt my affection for him flow through me, mixing with my shadows, and when I opened my eyes again, the two of us were already shrouded in roaring swirls of darkness. I expanded my magic, letting it follow the invisible line between my outstretched arm and the Curse Bearer's heart until it filled the statue like it had the potion and his scimitar.

Vo'ren wrapped his other arm around my chest and pulled me even closer. And then I felt it, a little crack resounding through my skull, as if the universe had broken apart on its hinges and then everything flipped.

I screamed. For a fraction of a second we were upside down looking at the water basin below us. But there was no more basin. The pool had turned into a swirl of colors and light, as if reality had liquified to be flushed away in a gigantic vortex. And in the circular center I glimpsed flecks of golden light and a glimmering black lake surrounded by dark trees. My ears rang with static, and suddenly, whatever we had been standing on collapsed. We spiralled down into the hole below--or was it above? And I felt myself spinning and dissolving as if I had turned to water as well. And then, everything went dark.