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Torn(60)

By:Julie Kenner


“Here goes nothing,” I said, then eased inside. At first it was pitch-black, and because of the tight quarters, I couldn’t get my flashlight arm to move in front of me, which meant I was heading in blind. After a few minutes of that, though, the space opened up into an actual cave, and I was free to move more easily. Kiera was right behind me, and we slowly inched forward.

Soon I realized that I could see beyond the beam of my flashlight. “Turn your light off,” I said, doing exactly that.

She did, then gasped. I did, too. We were standing in a crystal cave, and some unknown light source was illuminating the quartz that covered the walls and ceiling, making the place glow like something out of a storybook about heaven.

“I take it back,” she said. “Forget some stupid old rocks. This is amazing.”

I silently agreed. And, since my arm had begun to burn again, I also figured we’d arrived at the appropriate place. “It’s here,” I said.

She looked at me. “You’re sure?”

I held out my arm. “Major ouch. I’m sure.”

“Well, where?” She turned in a circle, taking in the place, as did I. She was right. There really wasn’t anything there that looked relic-y. “Maybe you should walk around some more? See if your arm really starts to hurt somewhere?”

Considering the size of the room, I wasn’t thrilled with that plan, but since I didn’t have another one, I did what she suggested—and realized right away what we’d missed at first glance.

“Kiera,” I said. “Come here.”

She hurried to my side. “Oh,” she said, her voice filled with awe. “There we go.”

I’d found a symbol carved into the floor. A geometric pattern that perfectly matched the design burned into the middle spot on my arm.

“Now what?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I said truthfully. “But I can guess.”

I moved to the center, then pulled out my knife. In one quick motion, I sliced through the symbol on my arm, wincing as I did, and then tilted my arm so that my blood dripped onto the floor, and onto the duplicate symbol carved into the ground.

For a moment, nothing happened, and I was afraid I’d been too quick to assume that once again my blood was the key. Then the floor started to shake, and the symbol started to rise. I jumped to the side, then stood by Kiera, our weapons out and ready, as the stone lifted like a dumbwaiter, revealing a staircase beneath. We looked at each other, then cautiously proceeded downward.

We found ourselves in a smaller chamber, also crystal.

And this time, we weren’t alone.

An old man with a beard as long as his arm and rheumy eyes peered at us through a dancing flame. “You are not the one they said would come.” He spoke not out loud but directly into my head. And, considering the way Kiera straightened, then eyed me, he must have been speaking directly into her head, too.

The words, though, were meant for me and not Kiera. Of that, I was certain. His focus on me was intent, and I was certain his words referred to the prophecy.

“The champion,” he continued. “The champion turned from righteousness.”

I glanced over at Kiera, who looked utterly confused. As for me, I thought of the darkness I’d consumed. The darkness I couldn’t keep boxed up inside me, that kept leaking out around the edges no matter how much I tried to shove it inside.

Yeah, I’d say the description fit better than I would have liked.

“That’s me,” I said.

Beside me, Kiera’s eyes narrowed, and I wondered what she was thinking. More than that, I wondered about what Zane had told me. Then again, Zane hadn’t said she was good. Only that she was a good partner for me.

Fuck.

I didn’t even know who I was, much less who she was. All I knew was that if I went back to the beginning, I fit this guardian’s description to a T.

“I’m the champion,” I said. “And I once set out to kill a man only to find myself at the edge of hell. Does that satisfy you, old man?”

He blinked slowly. “You seal your own doom by the path you take.”

“So I’ve been told. But I’m doing my damnedest to unseal it.”

“Drink.”

I realized then that a goblet had appeared in his outstretched hand. I took it and peered inside. It was filled with clear liquid, and at the bottom of the goblet was a crystal with a small metal loop on the end. A charm, I thought. Designed to fit on the chain around my neck.

“Drink,” he repeated.

“Why can’t I just reach inside?”

He inclined his head, as if offering to let me try. I did, and when my fingers reached the bottom of the cup, nothing was there.