Light of Darkness Read online

  “Kross, this is going nowhere fast,” Ricilia says, helping me up. “It’s now or never.”

  As they remove the chains from Paulina, I look to Beal. He runs his fingers through his hair and smiles at me. He’s just toying with us. “Okay, go.”

  The three of them step toward him. He cocks his head to the side in amusement. Ricilia releases the clasp on her cloak, and the others follow. Their cloaks fall to the ground, revealing their gleaming white-and-gold angelic armor; gifted to them during our travels. “Beal. By decree of the Garrison and on the behalf of mankind, we order you to cease this madness or else,” Ricilia announces, power filling her every word.

  Beal smiles. “Or else what, Nephilim?” In a flash of light, their helmets appear. They draw their swords, the blades ablaze with the white flame. Beal chuckles. “We’ve been through this already. Your little flames cannot harm me.”

  The room grows hot and thick with their energy. The flames roar as they grow more intense, until they become what looks like solid light. My armor reacts to the immense energy coming from them, writhing and tensing. I’ve never seen anything like this. Beal’s smile fades into an annoyed scowl.

  “Or else we put you down,” Ricilia says, her voice firm and frightening. They run toward him and attack.

  As they begin their onslaught, I kneel and concentrate. A circle of sigils appears on my right hand. I chant the words of the spell the girls acquired from the black sorcerer. “Potestatibus, da mihihanc vim signaesse animi, corporisetanimae. (Powers that be, give me the strength to seal this being, mind, body and soul.)” I focus my energy on the words and the desire to bind Beal. My hand glows, and a pentagram of light appears over it. Ready. “Flash tact!” I yell, running toward the battle.

  Ricilia jumps forward with her blade, slashing down. Beal draws Ender. A feeling of dread and dark energy fills the room as he raises the golden blade high in the air, then blocks her. Arianna and Paulina swing their swords, connecting with Ricilia’s. The colliding energies create an immense light that turns the whole room white.

  I can’t see anything in this white void, but I can sense the three pieces of my soul and the immense darkness near them. Moving faster than I knew could, I float by the soul drops and up to the darkness. I slam my hand right into the middle of the mass. The light vanishes, and Beal stands there, stricken by surprise, as my fingers drive deeper into his abdomen. The girls jump back.

  “Signo! “ I shout. The pentagram slams into him, sealing into his very being. He screams, knocking us all back with his power.

  Shakily, he stands. Blood pours from his mouth as he snarls, “I will kill you all.” He takes a step forward, preparing to swing Ender. A five-point star appears where my hand drove into him. A wave of energy ripples through his body, stopping him where he stands.

  Beal starts to tremble. The color from his eyes drains, and they turn gray. He drops his blade as he falls to his knees. “What sorcery is this?” He coughs up more blood, and it begins to pour from his nose, eyes and ears.

  I try to stand but fall to my knees. Even though I’ve used this spell three other times, it still saps me of all my energy. A spell this powerful would kill a human, but even as a demon, I barely have enough energy left to keep me conscious. “The same sorcery I used on the others, Beal.”

  Waves of energy pulse around him now as he trembles, trying to fight it. Black tendrils erupt from the star, lashing out everywhere. They turn on Beal, wrapping around his arms and legs. He falls to the ground, struggling as they creep up his body. Beal looks at us, the rage in his eyes so clear. “This is not over, Shadow! I will return, and when I do, this world and everything in it will be mine,” he screams, straining against the spell.

  When the tendrils cover him completely, there’s a violent burst of energy. The tendrils begin to constrict and compress him. The sound of his bones cracking and grinding against each other within the writhing ball echo out while blood gushes through the tendrils, draining every drop of his life essence. The air heats as the shrinking mass glows red hot. After a moment, Beal stops shrinking. The heat subsides, the glow dims, and all that is left is a statuette of blackened gold, with a glowing star on the abdomen.

  I stare at it. The star on the statuette dims now, signifying the completion of the spell. Arianna screams with joy, making me jump. “We did it!” Their helmets disappear, and they sheath their swords.

  “Is it really over?” Paulina asks.

  I continue to watch the statuette, making sure Beal is truly bound. When I’m satisfied, I meet Ricilia’s gaze with a smile. “It’s over.” They all huddle around me and jump in celebration.

  “I can’t believe we did it. We stopped the war. Hell, we stopped the generals.” Ricilia’s face grows grim and fill with shock. “We beat Beal. Oh, my God, we beat Beal!”

  “What do we do now?” Paulina asks.

  Ricilia starts going over what is to be done, now that the generals are gone. Their defeat will cause the demon army to fall into disarray. I’m sure Anima and her angry lackey will be here soon.

  Minutes go by, and I find myself staring at the statuette. Bane and Masini were a hassle, and it nearly killed me and the girls trying to contain Dusk. I can’t believe it worked against Beal so easily; I mean, he is the son of—

  The star on the statuette shines bright red, and I hear Beal’s scream in the back of my mind. “You all will die!” A massive amount of destructive energy discharges from the statuette, aiming at us.

  I push the girls back out of the way and run to intercept the wave. My claws appear, and I slam against the wall of energy. Almost instantly, my claws begin to fade away. I feel the girls move up behind me, and the energy changes, becoming volatile. “Stay back!” The wall explodes. Everything goes silent and dark.

  I snap awake in severe pain. There are hands on me, peeling me off the ground and flipping me onto my back. “Oh, my God,” Arianna says, turning away.

  “That bad, huh?” I ask, barely able to breathe.

  “Don’t talk,” orders Paulina. “It’ll be okay.”

  “No, no, no!” Arianna cries, fumbling through her armor. She pulls out the soul drop I gave her. “Give me yours,” she demands of the others. Without hesitation, they give them to her. “Here, these should make you better.” When she holds them over my chest, the drops begin to glow. At their zenith, wisps of white smoke reach out and take hold of my very soul, alleviating some of my pain. “It’s working!” she screams joyously.

  The light from the drops begins to flicker. Like ink onto parchment, darkness spreads through them. As they turn black, my pain returns tenfold, making me convulse. Arianna jumps back at my sudden jolt. “No…no!” she sobs. She holds the pieces of my soul closer, lightly touching my exposed heart. The wisps fade, and the luster of the soul drops dull, becoming hard and rough like stone. They turn to ash in her hands. Tears stream down her face. “Why?”

  “If only we had seen it coming,” Ricilia says, fighting back tears.

  “Even you shed tears for me, Ricilia? It truly must be bad.”

  “Shut up, demon. Just shut up.”

  I place my hand on Arianna’s cheek, and she covers it with her own. “My friends, this was inevitable. As a general, I have done horrible things, and this is my retribution.” Arianna continues to cry as I hold her cheek. “Do not cry, my saint, for it is thanks to you that I can die here a righteous being. I regret nothing and neither should you. All I ask is that you keep your promise.”

  “We shall,” the three of them say in unison.

  “Good.” They stand over me, drawing their swords. Holding the hilts with both hands, they start to chant. It’s the same chant they used to seal me in the barrier. I still don’t know what they are saying, but this time, I just listen. My eyes sting as they begin to well up with tears. The words are so beautiful. “Thank you.”

  With every passing moment, their praying becomes more and more distant. My sight begins to fade as the world around me grows da
rk. For years, I’ve taken lives, spreading death, and now, I finally get to witness it myself…what poetic justice. It’s silent, warm and inviting. So, this is death.

  I snap awake, sitting up in my bed, gasping for air, and drenched in sweat. I look around the dark room until my eyes fall on the red LED display of my alarm clock. 3:33 in the morning. “Holy hell, what a dream.”

  An hour passes. I finally manage to dry off, calm myself, and lay back down. I close my eyes. What feels like only seconds later, my alarm blares to life. I hit it hard, stopping the alarm before it can get going. I sit up on the side of my bed, rubbing my face, then my chest. I’ve been having this dream for a month now, but never has it been so real. I can still feel the air on my exposed heart. The alarm goes off again, bringing me out of the thought. I shake my head. “Right, right. Time to get ready for school,” I say with a sigh. “At least there are only three days left till summer vacation and my birthday.”

  I get up, stretch, and make my way through the maze of dirty clothes on the floor until I get to the door and take the handle. For a second, I look at the lock on it and the letters “S” and “P” etched above it. With a deep, I unlock the door and make way do the hall to the bathroom.

  In the dim bathroom, I do a doubletake when I see Kross staring at me from the mirror. Quickly turning on the lights, I see only my reflection. I shake my head. That dream must have really gotten to me, though it’s true that we do kind of look alike. Shadow… Kross’s hair is way longer, and he’s way more muscular. I’m pretty flabby.

  “Kyle! Kyle Ross, it’s time for breakfast!” my aunt yells from the bottom of the stairs.

  “I’ll be down in a minute!”

  I wash up, put on some sneakers, shorts and a T-shirt, then make my way downstairs. I take a big whiff as the smells of my aunt’s signature Monday breakfast caresses my nose: waffles, bacon, toast, eggs, and freshly cut fruit.

  As I enter the kitchen I’m met by a kiss on the cheek from my Aunt Serena. “Morning, sweetie. I had to stand on my toes to give you a kiss. I think you may have gotten taller.”

  “Nope, still five-seven, just like you. I just have these shoes on.”

  “Maybe. Well then, come on and eat up before it gets cold.”

  I sit at the table, and she sets my plate in front of me. She fixes her bonnet and white robe with the flower print and sits across from me. I can’t help but admire her as she sips her tea. My aunt is such a wonderful person, and the only family I have left. “Serena, have I told you how much I love and appreciate you?”

  Her deep-brown eyes begin to mist up. She gets up and rushes around the table to me. Tenderly, she wraps her arms around me. “I love you too, sweetheart. So much.” She pulls back and looks at me with a big smile. It turns to confusion as she cocks her head to the side. “Your eyes look heavy. Did you sleep okay?”

  “Not really. I had the craziest dream. It was so intense that it woke me up.”

  “What was it about?”

  “This guy named…”

  “Named?”

  “Well, that’s weird. I can’t remember now, but I was this guy fighting in a war. At the end, three others and I beat this badass general. I died though. Then I woke up at 3:33 this morning,” I explain, cutting into my waffle.

  “Witching hour? Spooky. Or maybe it’s due to the fact you finished watching that war movie last night when I told you to go to bed.” She says looking at over the rim of her mug.

  I think about it for a second as I scarf down my food. “Actually, I did. It was so good, I had to finish it. But I’ve been having this dream for a while now. It’s just last night it got so intense that it woke me up.” The alarm I have set on my phone goes off. “Crap, time to head out before I miss the bus.” I get up from the table, take my plate to the sink, and grab my book bag.

  “Have a nice day, sweetie. We can talk more about it when you get home.”

  I stop, kiss her on the cheek, “You got it Auntie.” and then rush out the door.

  A block and a half away I walk up to the school bus stop on the corner, and there’s a girl already waiting. She’s wearing jean shorts and a tight red T-shirt that accents her chocolate-colored skin and the red weave in her hair. She turns toward me with a smile. “Good morning, Chump.”

  “Morning, Rica,” I say through a yawn.

  She walks up next to me and bumps me. “You seem tired; you sleep okay?”

  “Barely. You wanna fight about it?”

  She steps up to me, posturing with all her five-foot-five fury. Her thick body and pretty face harden, showing her temper. She glares at me with her nearly black eyes. “You need to change your tone.”

  It’s fun getting her all worked up; she’s cute when she’s angry. I stand up tall, towering a full two inches over her while trying to keep a serious face. A second passes as we stare at one another. I snicker, causing her to laugh as well. “I’m fine. I had a late night, and I ate a little too much.”

  “That’s right, it is Monday. I would have been over. So, what happened last night?”

  I tell her the same thing I told my aunt. “That sounds familiar. Did you watch that new TV war movie last night?”

  “Yeah. Serena said the same thing.”

  “You enjoy it? I sure did.”

  We talk about the movie and the weekend as we wait. Within minutes, the school bus rolls up. There are already a few kids on it, but one catches my eye leaning against the window. We get on and make our way down the aisle to where the girl is sitting. She’s knocked out. Her tan skin gleams in the morning sun, along with her gelled dark brown hair that she has in a ponytail. Drool drips from her mouth and onto her blue T-shirt. I sit next to her, and Rica sits in the seat in front of us.

  “Airca Cove. The sandman’s favorite. She is always sleeping,” Rica says, staring at her.

  “Tell me about it. She’s only seventeen, but she sleeps like a ninety-year-old lady.” Airca and I have known one another since preschool. If I’ve learned anything about her, it’s that the girl loves to sleep. “Airca, time to wake up,” I whisper into her ear. She just swats me away. “I think it’s time for her wake-up call.” I start to run my finger along her slender face.

  “You know, every time you do that, and every time she hits you. She hasn’t missed once,” Rica points out, leaning back out of Airca’s range.

  “Today might be different,” I say.

  Airca’s face twitches. Suddenly, she jumps up, swinging her arms my way. I dodge her left hand. Her right-hand drops in my lap hard, sending pain throughout my entire body. I curl up, shielding myself from her assault.

  “You were right, today was different. She didn’t hit you in the face this time,” Rica says, fighting back a laugh.

  Airca stretches out of her sleep, cracking her neck. “Good morning, Kyle.” I lift my hand and squeak in response, slouched over holding myself. She places her hand on my back. “Did I hit you? I’m so sorry.”

  “He deserved it. Teaches him not to mess with someone while they sleep,” Rica says.

  I sit up, trying to stretch it out. “Shut up.”

  The bus stops. Another load of students gets on, and among them is another one of my friends, Miss Page Quartze. She’s a little lighter-skinned than Airca, has a small Afro and is, as she calls herself, voluptuous. She sits in the seat across the aisle from me, fixing her distressed capri jeans and white muscle shirt. “I see Kyle already woken Airca up.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I say, breathing slowly.

  Airca grabs my face and examines me with her pretty hazel eyes. “Did you sleep at all last night? Because you don’t look so good.”

  “I had a really intense dream. It woke me up, and I couldn’t really go back to sleep.”

  Page sets her green eyes on me, a mischievous smile on her face. “Was it a sex dream?”

  “No. It was about a war and…”

  “And just like that, you lost me,” she interjects. “I remember this dream I had a while ago. Kyle ca
me to me and told me that he liked Airca and wanted to ask her out. And that night, I had this freaky dream about the two of them...wait a minute. That first part wasn’t a dream.” She looks at me, and I glare at her. “Oops.”

  Really? I’ve known Page since ninth grade like Rica, and I should know not to tell her anything, as much as she likes to gossip. I turn and look at Airca. Her eyes are wide; her face is red. We quickly turn away from one another and sit silently. I glare at Page, and she just smiles. She did this on purpose. Why, Page, why did you have to throw me into the fire like that?

  We suffer through twenty minutes of awkward silence until the bus comes to a complete stop. As I get up to leave the bus, Airca grabs my shirt, stopping me. Page and Rica leave, giving us thumbs-up. We’re the last ones off the bus. We walk to the entrance of the school together, a little closer than normal. Before we get to the door, she pulls me aside. She looks me straight in the eyes with a small smirk. “Kyle, do you really like me?”

  I exhale. Come on, man, you’ve practiced this...courage! “I do. I have for the longest time now. I just didn’t know if I should say anything. But while we’re on the subject: Would you like to go out on a date with me?”

  Her face goes blank; I recognize her thinking face. This is what happens when she’s really considering something. Eventually, she comes back to the real world. Her thin body trembles with nervousness. “Umm, I’m not sure. Do you mind if I have a few days to think about it?”

  “Of course. Take all the time you need.”

  “Thanks.” She kisses me on the cheek. “I won’t keep you waiting long.” She heads into school.

  My heartbeat slows, and relief that I survived the moment overtakes me. Man, I wonder what she’ll say. I’ve known this girl since preschool, and it’s taken me till the end of my junior year to ask her out. I can wait a few more days. What’s the worst that can happen?

  Walking into class late earns me a glare from the teacher, as if I’ve been late all year. Before she starts her lecture, she calls me to the front to write me up for being tardy, and someone points out that I’ve been sitting in gum—good day so far. I sit back down and she starts talking. My eyes get heavy. She can be boring at times, but man. I try to focus on the sheet she handed out, but the words on the paper begin to swirl, and it feels like I’m being pulled in.