A Rip of Realms (A Shade of Vampire #39)(38)

There was no lock—the box appeared to be completely smooth, without any kinks in the metalwork that would suggest an opening.

“We could just try chucking it on the floor?” I suggested.

Both of them turned to look at me as if I was stupid. I shrugged. “It’s worth a try… anyone got any better ideas?”

“I guess not,” Ruby admitted. She slammed the box down as hard as she could. It made an awful sound, high and screeching, but the lid popped open.

“Told you,” I said, feeling more than a little bit smug.

Both of them ignored me, staring down at the large, gold-plated book that had been contained within the box. Hazel bent down and picked it up, holding it aloft for the others above to see.

“It’s so cold,” she whispered. “And it weighs a ton.”

“Well, what does it say? Is it the right one?” I asked impatiently.

There was nothing written on the cover, just a blank sheen of gold, with an equally plain spine. It looked old though—and like it hadn’t been removed from the box in over a millennium.

Unable to wait another moment, I took the book from Hazel, opening it to the first page. My heart sank. I flicked through quickly, looking at more pages, my hands starting to grow clammy as I reached the end of the book.

Every single page was the same.

Completely blank.





Jenus





The power is yours…

Yours alone, son of Hellswan…

Release me.

Release me.

The voices came, over and over again—tantalizing, calling to me, whispering the deepest desires of my heart. Offering me all the power and the glory I had ever dreamed of. Not just the kingdoms of Nevertide, but realms far out in the ether, humans, supernaturals, all kneeling down to me. All quaking with fear at my name. I was a god, an omnipotent thing, beyond the body of man or sentry, beyond all…

“Busy?”

Queen Trina stood in the doorway, a sly smile on her face. She reminded me of a viper, snaking through long grass, poised for a moment of stillness before darting forward to claim its prey.

I lowered myself deeper into the black tar, letting its thickness pull at my shoulder blades, slowly starting to snake up around my neck like some living thing. She couldn’t touch me while I was so close to our master.

“Be careful not to submerge yourself, Jenus. It’s hungry.”

She smirked, coming to seat herself on the edge of the pool. She dipped her long nails into the liquid, her pupils dilating as the waters called to her.

“What do you want?” I asked sharply. I was in no mood for her games today—or her interruptions.

“I had a vision last night,” she announced.

Now she had my attention. The visions were the way our master communicated with Queen Trina, and she had been anxiously waiting for another one since the night before the earthquake.

“Well?”

“The plan to use the unexpected visitors our master sensed at the mouth of the portal has failed – the boy’s stone did little use. Someone on the other side of the portal interfered, keeping it closed.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means we go back to the original plan. Nevertide’s purest energy needs to be collected, and then drained to generate enough power to reopen the portal.”

“And you’ve seen this?” I asked.

“I’ve seen it.” Queen Trina’s eyes flashed at the suggestion I might doubt her. I returned her glare, not willing to back down, not anymore—not since the master had started to communicate with me, too.

“He wishes you to perform this task.” She smiled. “It is what I saw, and so is what shall be.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then you will not have proved your worth—to him, or to me.”

I remained silent, contemplating my response. Sometimes I doubted whether these ‘visions’ Queen Trina received were accurately communicated to me, they differed so greatly to the ones that I had been receiving. The dark dreams that came to me in the middle of the night were only glimpses of images—faces of strangers contorted in pain and misery, screams so loud they would wake me, thinking that there was either human or animal at the end of my bed in unimaginable pain. I also saw death; I saw the bodies of the sentries crushed beneath the arch at Hellswan, souls trapped in stones, frozen in their horror for eternity, children bleeding, their crimson blood falling on an ocean.

When Queen Trina told me of her visions, she spoke of a benevolent spirit whispering to her, weaving tales of things which were to come and things which had passed.

Did the entity favor her above me?

Perhaps that was why her visions were of love and guidance, and mine were nightmares—dark, unforgettable nightmares.

“I will do it, gladly,” I replied.

She smiled at me, and this time it was almost genuine.

“I am pleased to hear it. We shall make an Acolyte out of you yet, Jenus.”

“I want assistance,” I interjected hastily before she could leave. I was suddenly wary that this could be a ploy of hers to be rid of me. “I will need a distraction, and time to formulate a plan.”

“And you shall have them,” she replied, “as much as you like. We will not abandon you, not while you faithfully follow the cause.”