Pleasures of the Night(18)

He flinched inwardly. The contrast of his new assignment to the joy of Lyssa’s presence was similar to the contrast between hell and heaven.

But perhaps his time at the Gateway would be good for him. He certainly would not have the luxury of thinking of her there.

“You will begin immediately, Captain.”

He bowed before turning on his heel. Having expected some onerous task, he had dressed for battle, and his glaive hung securely in the scabbard that crossed his back. His boots tapped ominously on the marble floor as he left the haiden and descended the steps to the open courtyard. Around him, casually robed Guardians stared. Some furtively, others openly. He’d broken a law that had not been broken in centuries, and everyone wanted to know what the punishment would be for so grave an offense.

With a leap, he departed, gliding rapidly through the misty Twilight toward the reddish glow that illuminated the tops of a distant mountain range. As always, he was grateful for the hours-long length of the journey. It allowed him time to sort his thoughts, and then clear them away. At the Gateway, Guardians could think of nothing besides maintaining their grip on their glaives and ignoring the exhausted burning of their muscles. There would be precious little rest and food over the next two weeks. All Guardians who wished to join the ranks of the Elite were required to spend a month at the Gateway. The vast majority failed in that task.

Once every century he returned, as all the Elite did, to remember how vital their task was. The stay was only a few days in duration, just enough to reinforce, but not enough to lose hope.

Two weeks would seem an eternity.

He paused at the top of the range and stared down at the horrors below. The vast door to the Outer Realm bulged with the effort to contain the Nightmares within. A mere crack of red revealed how the portal strained at the hinges and lock. From that tiny opening, black shadows flowed like water, pouring out and infecting the Twilight around the Gateway until lava-spewing pustules formed from the ground. Guardians by the thousands fought an endless battle, their glaives flashing with ruby light as they cut down Nightmares in countless numbers.

Misery and despair was a fetid stench in the air. His stomach roiled, but that, too, was thrust away from his thoughts. Descending the rocky cliff face while cutting a swath through the flood of shadows, Aidan tried to ignore the screams the Nightmares made just before they burst into puffs of foul-smelling ash. Their cries were high-pitched, a near whine that sounded like a child’s call for help. It was a horrifying sound that could drive a man mad, and it battered him from all sides.

The Guardians at the bottom noted his approach and began to fight with renewed vigor, taking comfort in his presence. Their regard depleted him, sapped his strength, weighted him down. He could not show fear or hunger or exhaustion in front of the others, and the energy required to maintain the façade had long ago become too draining.

Suddenly the plan to forget Lyssa in this hell was forgotten. Instead her memory floated above all others, a shining beacon of hope and happiness until all he thought of was her, and how he could be himself with her, take comfort in her, as he could with no one else. She was the power behind every swing of his glaive, every gasping breath, every growl that tore from his throat.



She was the hope he had thought long dead, the goal to reach, the dream to work toward. It was no longer the Key.

It was Lyssa.



The door pushed open on well-oiled hinges. It was a near soundless whoosh of air, but as had happened every day for the last two weeks, the hairs on Lyssa’s nape rose and her muscles tensed. Her entire body was anxiously awaiting the return of the man who stirred it so thoroughly, a man who never came.

She stared down at her drawing pad and forced herself to relax. Against her back, the bark of an oak tree pressed into her skin. Around her, a green meadow with yellow wildflowers swayed gently in a softly fragrant breeze. Nearby, a stream flowed. Though she loved the beach more, she couldn’t find it in her heart to imagine herself there again. The beach was Aidan and lust and longing, things she wanted desperately to feel, but refused to allow herself to. He would not return, and hoping for what would never be was a wasted endeavor.

Still, she felt him. The power and strength he’d given to her with his caring had made her surroundings possible. Without him, she would still be sitting in the dark, going crazy.

She sighed and went back to waiting for the night’s Guardian to appear, telling herself that she had to move on and be grateful for what she had shared with Aidan, even if she still wanted more.

His people were an odd bunch, approaching her so cautiously, clearly uncomfortable with their inability to integrate themselves seamlessly into her dream world. The Guardians requested that she perform odd exercises, but she remembered Aidan’s admonishment to reveal nothing of importance. She never complied or showed them the skills she practiced when she was alone. They, in turn, never revealed very much about themselves. It was a bizarre arrangement, and she couldn’t help but wonder how long it would go on.