Mystery Of The Stones
Stories similar to this that you might like too.
“What is this?” I asked as the woman opened her eyes. It was a question I should have been asking long before now, but it was hard to think when my brain had been so thoroughly rearranged during those past few days that I could barely remember what day of the week it was let alone what she looked like or how many times I’d fucked her.
“Are you going to tell me who you are and where we are and why you’re naked and why you smell of sweat and dirt and sex? And can I ask if you know how many people just died in an explosion on my turf?”
I didn’t really expect an answer. She sat up and rubbed her hair back from her face with shaking hands. Her dark brown skin seemed lighter than usual under all the grime and dirt and her short curly black hair was matted down and tangled. There were cuts and scrapes along her arms and legs, some dried blood still on them.
She took stock of herself for several seconds, then stood unsteadily and walked over to sit at the edge of the fire’s light by my side. I felt tense slightly. She looked tired, but there was a kind of strength there too. A warrior spirit. She wasn’t afraid of me, not like I was afraid of her.
“How did I get here?” she finally said after looking into the fire for a while, watching it burn low in front of us. She reached out to take another piece of wood from my pack, but I grabbed her wrist gently. She glanced at me, startled.
“Don’t,” I told her quietly.
She gave me a puzzled look. “You don’t want to give me your share of food? I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday.”
“I just meant—”
“No, you need to eat. But no more fire unless we go hunting tomorrow morning. It’ll kill the game.”
It suddenly occurred to me that I’d never seen her eat before. We’d spent almost twenty-four hours together, mostly naked and in the throes of passion. We’d fought and made love, drank tea and talked about our families and our lives, but I hadn’t known how to feed her. I didn’t even know if she knew how to hunt.
The thought caused me embarrassment and unease, something that I’d always tried to avoid in life because it forced me to realize I cared about something beyond my own desires. She was different than other women I’d known. Different from most people, actually.
So much so that it was frightening to realize just how little control I had over her thoughts and actions. She was the only being in this world—human or otherwise—who could possibly understand me, but it also scared me to death.
It made me feel helpless, and as an Archdemon, that was an uncomfortable feeling to have. If it weren’t for her magic, she would be dead already. That made me hate her all the more. She wasn’t supposed to be alive. She wasn’t supposed to exist. She was a danger that threatened the future of everything good and righteous in this world.
So maybe I shouldn’t care so much. Maybe I should ignore her. I could keep my distance, pretend I hadn’t done anything wrong. Let her find someone else to play house within my head. It would probably be best.
“Why are you doing all of this?” she asked suddenly, her voice soft and uncertain. “Why won’t you leave me alone? What do you want from me?”
This time, my answer was simple and cold. “I need to know what makes you tick.”
She stared at me for a long moment. Then she turned and went to the tent flap to open it. She paused outside for a moment before she looked back at me again, her dark eyes filled with confusion and fear. “There’s nothing inside,” she said softly. “Just a bedroll, a small bag with a few pieces of cloth and a comb, a knife, and a water skin. Nothing else.”
“And a body,” I reminded her gently.
She swallowed hard, then looked away from me and closed the flap against the night. I saw the muscles bunching beneath her smooth brown skin as she clenched her jaw tightly, clenching it until it trembled with tension. Finally, she drew in a deep breath and turned to face me, her eyes flashing. “What happened?” she demanded.
“We got attacked last night,” I told her. “They were demons; they used some sort of weapon.”
“I saw the marks.”
“Yes, but—”
“You killed them.” The words came out with surprising force. I’d been surprised by how quickly she’d learned to stand up for herself, but hearing her speak so boldly about killing her enemies shocked me. “You fought off those monsters and saved me.”
I hesitated. “Well, yes. Yes, you’re right. And I’m very grateful. Thank you.” I reached out with my free hand and stroked the side of her face gently with my fingertips. For once, she didn’t flinch or pull away, though I knew there was still fear hiding behind her courage.
She nodded and returned my touch, but didn’t say anything further. Her gaze drifted down my torso. There was a faint scarring around one hip, where a claw had torn through flesh and bone during a skirmish. I remembered the pain well enough.
I’d bled out and nearly died after the beast had ripped its way out of me, shredding organs and spilling blood across the stone floor of the dungeon below the Keep. When I woke afterward, the Archdemon who’d found me in the cell had bandaged me gently.
He’d healed me, even while telling me that he wouldn’t help me anymore. Even while making it clear that I would have to fend for myself if I ever hoped to defeat the demons.
When I finally managed to escape the Keep, I’d gone searching for another Archdemon, thinking I might get lucky and find a healer willing to help me, but I hadn’t. My wounds had been too severe, and none of the Archdemon’s servants had wanted to risk their own necks helping me escape.
They were afraid of the demons, not me. It left me wondering just how many of them had died trying to defend the Keep.
I shuddered. “My scars are mine now,” I admitted.
“It doesn’t mean you’ll kill me,” she pointed out. “Or that you won’t try to hurt me again, either. You’ve proven yourself more than capable of doing both.”
“That’s true,” I agreed. “But I am sorry. I didn’t know you would live or die when we parted.”
“No,” she agreed softly, “you didn’t.”
“Maybe if I had …” I sighed. “If I’d known what would happen to me, maybe things would have gone differently.”
“Things never go as planned,” she reminded me. “Sometimes the best-laid plans don’t work.”
I nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps.”
Her eyes narrowed at me. “What did the demons want?” she demanded angrily. “Why are they coming here? Do you really think your little war with them will make any difference?”
The sudden change in her voice made me pause. A hint of desperation seeped into her words. Something inside of her seemed to have snapped.
As soon as I realized it, I tried to reassure her. “Everything is going to be okay,” I promised. “I promise.”
She glared at me. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Do what?”
“Save us,” she replied bitterly. “Save us the way you always seem to save everyone else.”
A flash of emotion flickered across her features, and for a moment I saw her as she had been before she’d become Archdemon, back in the days when I’d rescued her and protected her from demons. But the memory vanished as quickly as it had come, replaced by the cold determination of a being with no friends, and no hope.
I shook my head sadly as I looked at her, feeling something tearing inside me again, threatening to break the dam of my control.
She stared back at me, her expression filled with suspicion and uncertainty, her fingers gripping tight on the hilt of her knife, waiting for me to strike. And yet she held onto that doubt like a lifeline in the stormy sea.
For an instant, we shared an understanding, and neither of us moved until that moment passed. We stood there facing each other, breathing heavily, watching one another, and I felt my heart break over and over again. Then she took a step forward and pressed against me, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist, holding on to me desperately, and whispering in my ear. “Don’t leave me.”
I couldn’t bring myself to respond as tears ran freely down my cheeks, and I simply leaned my head on hers. She didn’t try to push me away. No one has ever touched me so gently before.
Eventually, we fell silent, and then there wasn’t much else to say. Our minds were racing as fast as our hearts, and nothing we could have said would have mattered anyway. So instead of speaking, we just stood there silently for a while.
Eventually, we began to calm down, and I let go of her hand to wipe my face, and then she did the same. I turned and faced her, trying to keep my voice steady enough that I wouldn’t start crying again.
“I’m glad we met again, Valora,” I told her sincerely.
She tilted her head toward me, looking up at me and smiling a little sadly. The sight of her made me ache inside. It was strange because she’d once been such an important part of my life, but now she barely existed for me. In many ways, she had been dead all along.
I smiled slightly as I reached for her hand again, but she jerked her hand away. “We shouldn’t touch,” she warned, shaking her head. “The Archdemon may be able to feel us together.”
I hesitated, glancing back over my shoulder. “Can you … hear what he’s saying?” I asked, suddenly concerned.
Valora glanced back at him. Her lips twisted into a wry smile. “Not very well. He speaks far too quickly.”
My relief was immediate. For some reason, knowing that Valora hadn’t completely lost her ability to hear the Archdemon gave me a sense of renewed strength. “Then maybe—”
Before I could finish asking her how we might be of use to her, she stopped me abruptly, turning to glare at me. “I am not a burden!” she declared, raising her voice and shaking her finger at me. “You have done so much for me already! I cannot ask any more of you!”
I winced, feeling a surge of shame at her outburst. My heart sank as I stared at her. This had been my fault. I should have listened to her earlier about keeping our distance. If she had only given me time to find a way to help her, we might have been better prepared.
But now it was too late. And I knew that I was about to hurt her.
I looked back at the Archdemon, who still watched us with a faint frown on his face as he continued to talk. Valora glared fiercely back at him, her eyes flashing as she spoke in a low voice, telling him to stop staring at me and leave us alone. I could understand why she felt that way, but I also saw the fear in her face as she spoke to the Archdemon.
He merely raised an eyebrow at her. His voice sounded tired as if he were used to her temper tantrums. “I don’t see anyone else offering to fight for you anymore,” he reminded her with a shrug. “What’s wrong with making sure someone will do this for you, just this one last time?”
And then she started screaming at him.
I covered my ears instinctively, trying to shut out her harsh, angry words, and I stumbled backward into Valora, pushing her away. She screamed louder, and she hit me, knocking me down to the floor, and I felt my head throbbing painfully where I’d struck it.
“Stop!” I shouted at her, struggling to get up again.
Valora ignored me. I could almost read her mind as she lashed out at the Archdemon, telling him off with sharp, cutting words, calling him every name under the sun. I knew they had never been friends, and I suspected Valora resented being forced to work with him.
But I was afraid she was losing herself even more than I already thought she had, and I wanted no part of whatever was about to happen next.
That seemed to be the exact moment when my body decided that it finally had enough of Valora’s rage. I found myself sinking back onto the floor as my head began to swim. When I tried to stand, dizziness overwhelmed me, and I dropped to my knees, gripping the cold tile wall desperately for support. I could barely breathe.
Valora was screaming, cursing, and hitting the Archdemon with every insult she could think of. She was wild-eyed and furious, spitting fire as she fought against him. She was beautiful when she was like that, with the same golden hair as mine, and the same deep brown eyes as mine. But she was also crazy.
A part of me wondered whether I wasn’t somehow responsible for this, since I’d made Valora hate me after what I did. But that didn’t seem possible. I would give anything to take it back now, if I could, because I hated myself for hurting her—and worse, for making me vulnerable to an Archdemon.
And I was about to lose Valora forever.
I closed my eyes tight. I couldn’t bear the agony. My head swam, and I fell forward into the tiles.
Someone shook me awake, but I couldn’t focus on what was happening around me. I couldn’t see. A cool hand rubbed my forehead, and a soft voice said, “Valora? Are you all right?”
I blinked dazedly, and the world came into focus in front of me. The Archdemon stood above me, looking down at me with concern in his eyes as he brushed my hair aside to look at my forehead. He wore a frown and held a cloth in his hands, dabbing it gently at my brow.
“Is he—” Valora asked anxiously.
The Archdemon glanced down at her. “Yes,” he replied. “His fever has broken.”
I struggled to sit up, groaning as pain stabbed through my skull. It took several minutes before I could lift my head from the cool tiles without crying out in agony. Valora knelt next to me, leaning close to whisper to the Archdemon, and I saw her mouth trembling as she sobbed.
I stared up at the Archdemon, who looked concerned. “Are you feeling okay?” he asked quietly.
“I’m fine,” I grunted.
And I meant it. Whatever Valora had done to me during that horrible spell of hers, it hadn’t worked. No matter how many times she had used her magic over the years, she was always able to heal herself afterward.
As far as I could tell, Valora hadn’t even healed me completely yet. The side of my head ached as I touched it gingerly, but the throbbing had stopped. But my stomach was still roiling and my muscles still trembled violently whenever I moved too much. I suspected there was a nasty bruise forming beneath my eye.
Valora’s anger had driven me mad.
She had told me as much while we were talking on the beach, but I refused to believe she was capable of such viciousness. And then when I tried to help her, she had turned on me, attacking me and casting a curse to make me helpless.
But she was still Valora.
I reached up to touch her face softly as she continued to sob on the floor by the altar.
We both watched the Archdemon closely as he spoke to us, our emotions hidden behind stone faces, our thoughts and feelings locked away within ourselves. We were still afraid of him. After everything that happened the last time we met, I doubted that was going to change anytime soon.
He had given me something I desperately needed: peace.
After seeing Valora, I hadn’t slept very well for weeks after that awful night of my attack, and every time I closed my eyes, I saw the Archdemon looming above me, reaching for me.
I knew he was dead, and I knew his soul was gone from this world, but the fear wouldn’t go away. That nightmare haunted me day and night, until one day I found myself sitting alone on the rocks on the island where we buried him. He looked so peaceful in his coffin, so small and fragile compared to the man who used to fill this place with energy.
Valora sat next to me, staring at the sky as I cried softly into my palms. She put her arms around me, holding me tightly, and whispered soothing words as the tears streamed down my cheeks. But I couldn’t stop thinking about the Archdemon standing over us.
That terrible moment on the beach burned inside me, and I felt his icy gaze upon me even though his body was gone. It was why I’d been unable to leave here. I never wanted to be alone again.
Now I knew that I could stay with Valora if I wished. I was free. I could go back to New York and live out my life without worrying about anything else. All my nightmares were gone.
I just hoped Valora would let me do that.
The End