Dragon Mystics: Supernatural Prison 2(39)

I drank in the sight of my best friend, his startling blue eye, hair as black as night. He had been my last thought before I plunged into the earth and I didn’t want to wait one more minute to tell him how much he meant to me. Without Braxton and all the Compasses I would be nothing. I threw myself into his arms and without hesitation he pulled me close. His strength surrounded me, and for the first time in hours I breathed easy. I gently nuzzled my face against the soft shirt he now wore.

“I couldn’t save you.” I heard the low anguish of his words, each ripped from his throat. “I had to watch as you plunged into the ground … I heard your bones break.” The anguish turned back into fury and suddenly his grip on me was even tighter. “I’m going to kill every last creature on this world, one by one, piece by piece.”

Jacob’s face popped up over the side of his taller brother. “This is the reason the fey abandoned Faerie. No longer is it safe for us here, and all the fighting is too much.”

I managed to wiggle my face free so I could see my fey best friend … and I needed to breathe – breathing was really important.

“Have you been here before?” I asked.

“Yes,” was all the reply I received.

Jacob was always quite cagey about this place and the tales of his people. We had few secrets in our pack; Jacob’s reticence was not of his own choice, they made all the fey swear oaths. He told us what he could, but it was very little.

“The doorway will be open in about a minute,” Louis said, sporting that half-grin cocky expression I associated with him. “I doubt you’re going to have time to go on a murderous spree, lizard, even on your best day.”

Braxton lifted his head from where he had it buried in my neck. I couldn’t see his expression, but I felt the sudden tension which filtered into his already hard body.

“Don’t push me today, Sparkie.”

Silence descended; Louis didn’t reply. I was surprised by his lack of smartass retort. Sparkie was a derogative name for magic users, for two reasons. Firstly, their spells often lit up in sparks, which alerted enemies to their location. It was as if they couldn’t be stealthy no matter how powerful they were, and shifters especially loved that weakness – mainly because magic was an unfair advantage, and our strength was in stealth. And secondly, according to our history tomes, most supernaturals descended from non-humans … probably fey. But magic users were different, they’d definitely evolved from humans, just one chromosome removed or something. They call humans their “spark of life,” and since we all considered humans to be … well, sort of beneath us, that riled the magic users.

Braxton released me, allowing me to step free and fill my oxygen-starved lungs. “Where exactly is this land in reference to Earth?” I really should have paid more attention in geography and history, but I’d had better things to do. Like sleep. Although, since it was about Faerie, the information probably hadn’t been in any school lessons.

Louis tilted his head back toward me. Over his left shoulder I noticed that the portal was opening. “This is the next dimension across. These two worlds sit parallel to each other, on either side of the great divide.”

I furrowed my brows. “The great divide?”

Braxton answered. “The divide is the “rumored” plane which exists between Earth and Faerie, a land of fire, mists and souls. The dead who have not been reborn or crossed to the gods reside there.”

I was trying to work the logistics in my head. Seemed as if these three “dimensions” sort of existed within the same space, but on different planes. Weird, but acceptable.

I wondered what a supernatural had to do to end up in the great divide.

“It’s supposedly where the dragon king’s soul rests, in the divide,” Louis said, before indicating I should step through the portal. “This is how he can return, his existence is stuck in limbo and hasn’t moved on to the gods.”

I was troubled by these words as I moved toward the doorway home. Louis reached out and halted me just as I was about to cross over. “Sorry it took me so long to get to you.” His sincerity bled into me. I almost lost myself in those hypnotic eyes, and the power which rode along with his words.

I shook my head a few times, clearing the vagueness which had descended. “It’s not a problem.” I pulled my arm free. “You’re not my keeper. Besides, we were doing okay on our own.”

That smirk crossed his face again, and I noticed the quick circumnavigation his eyes did of the scene around us — the mangled fey bodies, the creatures snarling and trying to break past the magic barrier – and I thought, for a moment, there was a sign of strain, just very mild around his eyes. I was probably imagining it.