Descending Into Darkness Read online

Page 2


  “That’s okay. I’m good without the view.” Concentrating on her breathing and trying to remember the complete square root of pie, she was glad the trip seemed to go by relatively fast. It didn’t got unnoticed by her brain that her body itched to explore the expanse of shoulders and neck that she was currently clinging to, but she tamped it down. This was life or death and she preferred the latter, thank you very much.

  When the cool air had stopped blowing upon her cheek and the chill had dissipated, he announced, “We’re here. You can look now.”

  Keeping her death grip, she first cracked open one eye, then the other, finding that they had indeed touched onto solid ground once again. He bent slowly, placed her feet on precious moist grass and straightened with her hands still around his neck. Situation, having changed, had Jess allowing her fingers to stroke the skin there, feeling it warm under her fingers. She couldn’t help but meet his eyes, captivated when he looked down at her. The shine was subtle now, as dawn’s light had started to lift night’s blanket of dark. Closing his own eyes, his nostrils flared as he drew a deep breath. When she opened them again, she saw that the pupils seemed to cover the iris, making them nearly obsidian. It was then she realized that he didn’t miss the intimate press of their bodies either.

  “Good morning,” a small voice interrupted.

  Dropping her hands, as if burned, they both turned to find a young man in black robes standing in an archway of what looked like Rome’s Pantheon, except it was more modern looking. Black bricks and columns made the exterior walls and supported the rooftop. Jasmine vines crept up the front banisters and onwards along the archway, its flowers hanging down to spread their scent for visitors. Jess noticed that the archway was high and wide. As her captor stepped back from her and started up the stairs towards the robed man, she understood the purpose for the architecture. His wings, opened at half-mast in what looked like a relaxed pose, neither stretched for flight, nor folded away, cleared comfortably through the doorway.

  Odd that he didn’t look back to see if she followed. Though, looking around, she found she had no idea where she was, and no way to tell if they were in the middle of nowhere or if she’d die from exposure before anyone found her. The structure was on an old paved road that was littered with holes and empty of cars, even the occasional abandoned broken down one. If she quieted, she thought she could make out some more buildings maybe half a mile down, if she had to guess. But no telling if they were just as abandoned as the street they stood on. And, if he wanted to kill or rape her, she thought, then he would have already done it.

  Temporarily satisfied with that, she slowly ascended the steps and followed him inside what looked like a large cathedral with stadium seating along the walls. The ceiling was buttressed and sported a large hole at the top, similar to the original Pantheon’s in Rome. When she cleared the doors, they started to close. Turning, she saw that two other robed figures pushed them as if they were weighted with gold, heavy and precious.

  “Jessandra.”

  Snapping back around she found him waiting for her at the center of the large room. Empty but for the two of them and the boy waiting for them at another much smaller doorway cut out from the seating on the other side of the room. Ushered by Fallon, Jess followed the kid through the doorway and to the right, into a dark corridor. Sudden unease flooded her, she looked to her escort behind her.

  Picking up on her distress, he nodded to her as best he could as he squeezed past the doorway.

  “It’s fine. Don’t worry.” Smiling reassuringly, his eyes began to shimmer in the candlelight up ahead.

  When she didn’t move, only watched his eyes dance, he looked to her questioningly.

  “You’re not at all human, are you?”

  A reserved expression crossed his face as he simply met her gaze. It was answer enough.

  Nodding to herself, she broke the connection between them and moved further into the short tunnel-like hall. After a couple feet, they came to a lit torch in the wall, guiding the way to a steep stairway below. Following them and the robed teen ahead, she ran her hand along the cool brick to steady herself on the way down. No way was she going to make it through a flying over the city on the power of some sort of creature of the night to break her neck on some stairs.

  At the bottom, she found that she had fallen. Right into her own personal rabbit hole. A swarm of people were spread about, busy doing what looked like every day stuff, but as if it were frozen in an older age. There were simple things, homemade wears as well as modern stuff. Jess even spotted a large plastic utility trash bin in a corner. Aside from the robed men and what looked like women from their feminine figures, there were more with wings, spread out in a large, dimly lit cavern, adding to the feeling of passing through the Twilight Zone.

  The cave chamber was like a town square that allowed room enough for a marketplace where food staples, cloth and tools could be bought or maybe traded, she thought. A fresh water spring gurgled from the rock wall to the left, close to the stairs, and was caught in a brick pool. Sitting on the natural hard floor beside it, were two large clay vases and a plastic milk jug with the top cut off to use as a scoop.

  Concrete buttresses stretched out above to hold the ceiling, supported by four large pillars evenly spaced throughout the large area. Other chambers veined off from the main one, though too dark to tell what laid beyond their halls or their size.

  “What is this place?” Mouth agape, Jess asked.

  “D'ilansis.” Fallon smiled as he looked on. “My home.”

  Chapter Two

  “Your home,” She repeated, still looking on at the groups of people ahead, two different species intermingling and coexisting as one large community.

  “Come.” Fallon pressed a hand to the small of her back, guiding her towards the mass of people. As they dodged and zigzagged, Jess couldn’t help but stare at those with wings like his.

  They entered a small cave in a corner opposite the water. Letting Jess enter first, he watched as she explored. A desk with a stool shared the wall with the door, a large, empty, bookcase was on one wall to the left and a comfy chair on the right. Along the same wall was an entrance to another smaller room. Inside a full-sized bed with only a cozy quilted top and two overstuffed pillows.

  “These are your quarters during your stay with us.” Fallon stood alone at the doorway. The bustle of the residents behind his slightly fanned wings.

  Whirling around, her shock did not go unnoticed. “My stay? How long do you plan to keep me here?”

  Straightening away from the doorway, he slowly approached her. Bending at the knees he placed his strong hands on her shoulder. "As long as you like.” Bowing his head for a moment, his wings rose with his shoulders as he took a deep breath. Steadier, it seemed, he met her eyes.

  Green. They were green. Though the light was dim, with only a lone lamp on the nightstand to light the room, she could make out his eye color when he looked at her this time. They were a gorgeous green. The kind found in a field of clovers.

  “You are a guest here, Jessandra.” He said. The scary thing was that he truly believed what he was saying. “The longer you stay among us, the clearer both of our futures become.”

  Throwing her arms up she broke his hold and stepped away. “What are you talking about? I don’t understand what the hell you are talking about.” Looking past his shoulder to the people milling about outside, she noticed that not one of those with wings were female.

  “Just," she said, taking a deep breath, holding it and blowing it out slowly. "Tell me,” she whispered, a little steadier.

  Resigned, he heaved a sigh before he moved past her to the desk. Pulling out the stool beneath it, he sat. His wings seemed to droop behind him.

  He didn’t look at her when he spoke, only stared down at his hands. “I am Fomorian. We are Fomorian. An ancient race existing before the Tuatha De arrived to this world.” There was a pregnant pause before he went on. “Before Amergin drove them to grou
nd, the Tuatha De King, Lugh, told us they would share our caves in peace. But he was killed in battle and the Seelie who took his place, King Sylus, did not uphold to our bargain, betraying us.” The last was said with a sneer. “Taking our females and young as slaves, using their safety as leverage against the males to do their bidding.”

  "Who the hell is Amergin?" She spat, lost already.

  "It doesn't matter," he dodged, not wanting to get sidetracked.

  "I beg to differ, since I'm the one who was just kidnapped," Jess argued.

  Fallon ground his back teeth for a moment. She saw she'd obviously irritated him and couldn't have cared less.

  "Amergin was the druid who helped man, the ancestors of the people today, to defeat the faery, as well as the Fomorians, winning the last war fought with magic."

  He wasn't making any sense. The things he was telling her couldn’t possibly exist, Jess would have told herself yesterday. Today was a whole different story. Before the sun even rose, stuff she’d only ever heard about in fairy tales and horror flicks were suddenly real. She shouldn’t believe it. Everything she’d been taught before now, told her to deny it as truth and to turn away. Now she wasn’t sure what to think of it. She was sure of one thing, though, with absolute certainty, and that was that he had wings. And the majority of the beings on the other side of that door did too. She couldn't argue with what her own eyes told her. So she rolled with it.

  “What sort of things?” She’d sunk into the floral wing backed chair, feet gone numb. "What sort of things do they have you do?"

  He started to open his mouth to answer but suddenly his eyes zeroed in on her leg, what he saw had him frowning.

  “What?” She asked, looking down at herself, spotting right away what it was that caught his attention. The scrape on her knee from when she’d fallen during his little hunting game, drew which blood that had dried and crusted over. Small pebbles of dirt and grime caught in it, making it look particularly nasty.

  “You’re injured,” Fallon pointed out before moving through the room to the bathroom. He could be heard thumping around in there, a cabinet or two slamming, before he returned, carrying a small white plastic case with a big reg plus sign painted on the outside and a wet wash cloth.

  Before she could say otherwise, he set the washcloth on top of the wound to loosen the dried blood. As the damp cloth did its job, he popped open the case and pulled out a cotton ball, a bottle of what looked like ointment of some sort and a bandage. Before he could lift the cloth up and inspect the progress, she placed a hand on top of it.

  Caught off guard, his eyes snapped up to her in askance. She sighed a little before she asked, again, “What do they have you do, Fallon?”

  He took a moment to remove the cloth and gently wipe away the particles of asphalt and other types of rock, possibly using the reprieve to think over his answer. Finally, he spoke, all the while working on her knee. “Artifact retrieval, delivering.... messages, kidnappings,” he looked imploringly up at the ceiling when he said the last, “Assassinations.” Turning his attention back to her leg he found that the scrape was as clean as it was going to get. Then he dabbed the cotton with whatever was in the small bottle and applied it to the broken skin. It didn’t sting, but the air reacted to it and made it feel cooler suddenly. Sending a quick shiver through her that did not go unnoticed by him. Looking up, he pulled the cotton away and leaned forward to blow gently on it to help it dry. It was just a short breath’s worth, no more than three seconds. But in those three seconds, her underwear went from dry to soaked.

  As he discarded the cotton, he peeled open the adhesive bandage and applied it deftly over her skin. Satisfied with his handy work, he went about cleaning up the first aid paraphernalia. While he did, she thought over what he had said. She understood how he differentiated between what he had done to her from the others in his past.

  “You’re their lackey’s. Their errand boys, because they’re blackmailing you.” Family she understood. Her parents were a solid unit against the world and they were always there for her and her younger sister. She didn’t know what she would do if anyone ever threatened Alyss.

  “Yes. And, though we are ashamed of it, we would do it all over again to assure their safety.” Standing, he strode quickly to the doorway, looking out to his friends and neighbors.

  “How long has it been? Since you’ve been their slaves?” She remained seated, not sure if her legs were sturdy enough.

  “Over three thousand years,” he growled.

  Filling her lungs, she slowly let it out before standing behind him on legs that started to tingle with stirrings of life again. That was a long time. That was…before Jesus, she thought. She couldn’t possibly imagine what that did to these people. For a split second, she recalled the book of Exodus, about the Hebrew slaves and Moses. Not the same thing, granted, but it took a great movement and a god to free those people. They were lacking a God and she may not be wielding a staff of God, but she didn’t want to turn down the chance to help him because of some minor details.

  “Alright, so you have me. What now?” When he swung around, relief plainly etched onto his face, she held her hands out in front of her.

  “I want to help, but I won't be killing anyone," she clarified letting arms relax to her sides. She knew what Moses did, with the help of God. Striking down those who refused to free his people. Not that she was condemning it, just that she didn’t think she had it in her to do it herself. He hadn’t mentioned taking anyone’s life, but she wasn’t stupid. Something like this didn’t occur quietly and peacefully.

  “You won't have to kill anyone.” He grinned now and in the light, she could see his elongated canines.

  “I, ah...” she started to say, distracted though by the animal like teeth he sported. “Ahem...” she cleared her throat. “I won't be held prisoner either. When I want to leave, to visit or just take a break from here, you’ll let me.” She said, making sure that her voice didn’t waiver too much.

  “Agreed. However, only if you go with an escort, for your safety, not to keep you here.” Though he couldn’t help but smile, she could see he wouldn’t be moved on the subject.

  “I can live with that, I guess.” At the idea of the major changes her life faced, a giddiness washed through her, forcing a smile to reflect his. Remembering, she pointed accusingly at him, “And you have to explain the fangs.”

  He made her wait about the fangs and suggested she take a few hours to rest and change. The new morning meant the end of the day for him and his people, as well as herself, she realized. It was still hard to believe that the scariest night of her life turned out to be the moment that she might either regret in the future or be thankful for. At the moment so much was up in the air, questions unanswered, some of which she knew she’d have even more questions for, even. She slept, fitfully, for maybe a couple hours, but not before she ran the whole night through her head from start to finish. She didn't see anything out of the ordinary as she left for work, but then, it was still daylight out, would he have been there already, checking that he had the right apartment? He seemed unsure that she was who he was looking for. Could there be another Jessandra Elizabeth in New York, the person he was really looking for? Shit, he hadn’t even said my last name right when he’d asked me to confirm my identity. This could still be all a misunderstanding. Except, one thing was for certain. At that very moment, as she considered the simple slim and long mirror hanging on the bathroom door, she didn't feel threatened at all. She didn't feel like her life was in danger or that she needed to find a way out or get back home. Did that just mean she was crazy or that she truly believed that he meant her no harm and her curiosity had her beyond intrigued? Taking a deep breath, she considered the plain bootcut blue jeans that she had left thrown on her bed the day before, and the rose V-neck stretch cotton t-shirt she wore weren't terrible but nowhere near flashy either. It will just have to do for Fallon’s little “gathering,” as he called it.

  “My f
riends. My family. I welcome you tonight with the honor of presenting our salvation. The goddess has blessed us with her presence, answering our prayers.”

  As Fallon spoke in the large domed room above ground, addressing all the residents she had seen below, and more, she stood in the entrance to the cavern, looking up at the mass of people in their seats lining the walls.

  “Jessandra Elizabeth NicManahan.” He held his hand out to her, standing on a raised platform in the center.

  Tentatively, she stepped out from her hiding place, aware that she was blushing from head to toe. Stepping up beside him, she met a few pairs of eyes. Most were smiling while others looked more surprised than anything else.

  “As the blood heir of the Seelie Court, she will lead us all to peace." No matter the differences, applause roared against the marble.

  Except for Jess.

  “Wait.” Grabbing his arm, she halted him. “What?”

  Still drunk on happiness, he looked down at her shocked, pale face. “You are the heir of the Seelie Court. The Sunlit faeries.” He broke it down for her. “And our secret weapon.”

  Now grasping him for fear of falling, her only thought was, Holy crap.

  "What game are you playing?" Jess demanded as soon as they were back in her room. Whirling around, she pinned him with a deadly stare. They were only a foot apart, so she had to crane her neck back to meet his eyes.

  Genuine shock crossed his face. She wasn’t going to be fooled again. No-sir-ree.

  "Game? I'm not sure I know what you mean." Uncomfortable under her angry gaze, his wings seemed to curve slightly forward, hovering over his shoulders. If she weren't so angry she might have found it intriguing.

  "You expect me to believe that I'm some long-lost princess of this ancient court of faeries?" She spat that last word, tasting like battery acid.

  "You are." He demanded, confusion filling his eyes until realization dawned. "You didn’t know."