Chapter Twelve

“H ow did you know that asking for the door to open would work?” Loki asks me curiously as he ducks his head and kisses my cheek on the way past me.

He’s started doing that recently, and although I don’t mind, in fact, I actually really like it; I’m unsure why he’s doing it.

“Well, at the risk of sounding completely crazy, the voice told me to ask it,” I reply with a shrug, and I suddenly have all eyes on me. I can't really say I blame them.

“The same voice that told you what gifts you had?” Storm asks curiously, a hint of suspicion in his tone.

I nod, “Yep, that’s the one. It’s never steered me wrong before; in fact,” I look at Grey, “it saved us from the Underworld.”

Grey’s eyes widen, “That’s how you knew how to escape the Underworld? The voice told you?”

“Yeah, and before you ask, no, I have no idea who it is, yes I’ve asked, and no, it doesn’t answer,” I give a quick run down as I start to pull the drawers on the desk open, looking for a clue as to where the part of the Underworld gate key is.

“Hmm, well isn’t that interesting,” Grey comments.

“Since it worked before, why don’t you try asking the room where the key is? You never know; it might work?” Rival suggests.

“It’s worth a go,” I reply and then say, “Hey room, it’s me again. I was just wondering if you knew where the piece of the Underworld gate key is and could show us? We were told by Monty that it’s here, and we need it to stop the Underworld spilling out into the Shadowlands and throughout the realms.”

As soon as I started talking, I felt the need to explain a bit more about why we want it rather than just demand it. I’m beginning to think this house is much more aware than it should be. I have heard of really old houses absorbing the remnants of the magic of all its occupants over the years and becoming aware; I guess you could call it. The house hasn’t let me know that it's aware before now, but it could have either been trying to figure me out, houses of this kind are rare, highly sought after and carry a special kind of magic that people seek, or the magic could have retreated to this room, to keep the important contents safe from the previous owners. I am reasonably sure that this room and its contents belonged to the house's original owner, and that was a long, long time ago.

“I don’t think it worked this time,” Mayhem starts and then raises his eyebrow as a whole panel pops open behind the desk, revealing a magical safe.

We watch as all the dials start to turn on their own, and various colours of magic wash over the surface before it opens slightly.

“Okay, that is seriously cool,” Loki mutters, and he reaches out to it to open it up further and see what’s inside.

As soon as he touches the door, a thin piece of wood moves away from the panelling and smacks him on the back of the hand as if it’s chastising him.

“Oh shit, that hurt. Farren, your house is smacking me!” Loki protests as he pulls his hand back quickly.

“Do you guys feel that?” Reaper asks.

Zev nods with a smile, “Yeah, the room is amused.”

Loki splutters, “Oh, so my pain is funny!”

“It obviously thinks so.” I grin.

“I have a feeling that the room will only let Farren get the fragment out of the safe; after all, she’s the one that asked it nicely,” Rival hypothesises.

“You make a good point,” Grey replies and then looks at me, “Go ahead.”

I shrug and then walk toward the safe; that’s still only cracked open a tiny amount so there’s no way to tell what’s actually in there.

As I reach my hand out to open the door though I pause, “Alright, I asked nicely for you to show me where the key fragment is, and I’m very grateful that you did; however, if you smack me like you smacked Loki I’m going to mad, got it?”

I have no idea if the room listened to me or not, but it felt necessary to say. I don’t want to piss off the room or the house because I’m starting to think that if there’s this much magic in this room, then there’s more magic in the rest of the house that either was too weak to make its presence known or was feeling me out to see if I was worthy before letting me know of its existence. Homes that have become sentient are some of the most powerful objects in the realms.

Figuring I’ve got nothing to lose, I open the door to the safe and find a small ornate wooden box with various symbols carved into the outside. I’m hoping like hell that they aren’t cursed, or some shit, and I gently probe them with my magic just to make sure. As soon as my magic comes in contact with the box, the lid pops open almost as if it was waiting for me and my magic, which is an absurd thought. Nestled in the plush emerald green velvet, the fragment looks beautiful; it’s part of the head of the key and has a vine twining around the purple gemstone. It's very clearly a broken piece, but it's huge and so pretty. Taking the box out carefully, I turn around with a smile on my face to show the others.

Reaper

I should be paying attention. We need this fragment to find the rest and ensure the Underworld gates remain closed. Usually, I would have no problem at all in paying attention, but I can hear it whispering to me, and I just can’t shake the growing desire to go for it, and Ryu is just as curious as I am.

I can’t resist it anymore, and I know that if something does go wrong with retrieving the piece, then the others have it handled. With this in mind, I slowly move back into the shelves, following the sound of whatever is calling me.

It’s not necessarily using words to gain my attention, but more, a feeling, something in this room wants me to know that it exists. I have no idea what it is, and it momentarily occurs to me that this is nuts. I shouldn’t be blindly following a magical calling. With that thought, I force my feet to stop heading further into the shelves of books and display cases.

Briefly, my mind clears, and I wonder what the hell I’m doing here and not with Farren when the box with the key fragment could be hexed, and she could get hurt. Whatever got a grip over me was fucking strong.

I try to turn around only to realise that I physically can’t move my feet. Fuck! It appears that although I’ve regained control of my mind, the compulsion still has control of my body.

“Ryu,” I ask him in my thoughts.

And although I can see him in my mind's eye, he doesn’t seem to be able to hear me, which sends a shock wave of panic through me. I have never not been able to communicate with him; even when I was holding him back, I could still talk to him, and now it feels like there’s a wall between us, an impenetrable one. What’s more worrying is that he doesn’t seem to be aware of it, and is sleeping, which he would never do with Farren in possible danger. He shares the same overwhelming urge that I do to protect her and keep her safe. Even though she’s more than capable of doing it herself, it’s all a part of a word that Ryu likes to throw out regularly. Not understanding the complications of the word and that she has no clue what the implications are.

I’m avoiding it for now.

Finding myself jolted out of my mind, my feet start to move forward again without me telling them to do so; this isn’t going to end well. I know that; what I don’t know is why it’s only affecting me. No matter how hard I try, I can’t break the control that it has over me, and I watch helplessly as my body is moved without my permission. It finally comes to a stop in front of a row of old thick spined books; they look impossibly older than any of the others that I found when I first went into the books to explore, and I know that if I walked down here, I would’ve noticed them.

Instinctively, as my hand reaches for a dark burgundy spine, I know that I shouldn’t touch it, and I pull on all my magic, trying to stop my hand from reaching for it. I know that it won't just hurt or knock me unconscious if I touch it; no, it’s going to be deadly. Relief and hope start to fill me as my hand pauses and begins to shake, but it’s short-lived as I feel a more substantial wave of magic crash over me and my hand darts forward, grasping the book and pulling it toward me.

Immediately all consuming pain encapsulates me, and my body is finally my own again. I roar in pain, Ryu’s pain-filled roar joining my own as my vision goes black and my body crumples to the floor. As my mind gives in to the pain and slips into unconsciousness, my only thought is Farren.

Farren

W ith the sudden roar of pain that I instantly recognise as coming from one of mine, the key fragment is forgotten as I move in the direction of the roar, the world blurring around me as I move with speed, the others following behind me quickly. What I see when I finally round the corner into the shelves has my heart in my throat and fear pulsating through me.

Dropping to the floor beside Reaper’s fallen body, I reach out my hand and place my fingers on his neck, feeling for his pulse; even though I can hear his heartbeat, I need reassurance.

“What the fuck happened?” Loki hisses.

“I think it might have something to do with this,” Rival replies, as he kneels by a dark red book lying on the floor just outside of Reaper’s reach.

“Don’t touch it. It’s cursed!” Grey suddenly yells, stopping Rival just in time.

Rival tilts his head and frowns, “You’re right. It’s also sentient.”

“Fuck, he’s starting to convulse,” Mayhem curses, his hands going into his hair as he stares at Reaper hopelessly.

In the small amount of time that we’ve been talking, Reaper’s condition has already deteriorated; he’s pale, sweating, small wounds are starting to appear all over him, and his body is convulsing violently with whatever curse or poison is currently running through his system and damaging him.

Fuck, I can’t lose him. He’s become so incredibly important to me in such a short amount of time, and I can’t imagine going forward without him or Ryu. My anger starts to stir.

“If I’m correct, then this isn’t a curse as such, more of a poisoning, and the cure is in the book. There’s no other way to find it.” Grey tells us.

“So the only way to help is to touch the book that did this in the first place?” Zev mutters, sounding angry.

“Or get it to tell us itself. It is sentitent after all.” Killian replies, his tail whipping back and forth with his anger as his horns spark.

“Yeah, that’s likely,” Rival mutters.

“Loki, see what you can do,” Storm orders, taking charge, even as his own horns light up with angry fire.

I breathe a sigh of relief; in my panic at seeing him on the floor, I had forgotten that Loki could heal. My anger is still growing, and I can feel my magic responding to it, we don’t like that one of ours was attacked and hurt.

Loki kneels down next to a still convulsing Reaper and grasps hold of his arm, his eyes glow as he starts the healing process, and I feel my anger and magic recede slightly as it appears to work, and Reaper’s convulsing stops.

“I can’t heal him,” Loki mutters, his hands still glowing. “I’ve managed to slow the progress of the poison, but I can’t stop it, and I can’t heal the damage that it’s already done.”

“What?” I ask.

He looks up at me, his eyes bleak, “Unless we can get the antidote from the book Reaper’s not going to make it.”

Those are the words that flip the switch inside me that were holding back my anger and magic, which comes rushing forward.

The room starts to shake with my anger as things begin to fall on the floor, and a wind that only affects me whips my hair and clothes into a frenzy. I am vaguely aware that as I move toward the book, I’m not walking but floating, I couldn’t give a flying fuck though because I’m pissed, and I will fucking save Reaper, and the only way I can do that is to get the antidote from the book, by any means necessary.

“What the hell is going on?” I hear Grey ask urgently.

“Farren is angry as fuck,” Killian replies, although there’s a hint of tension in his voice as well.

“I’ve seen her angry; she didn’t do that,” Grey replies.

I ignore them as I command the book to come to me.

“Wait Farren, don’t touch it!” Storm yells, too late, as the book appears in my hands.

I feel it try to take control and trying to control me, but it’s barely a blip on my radar as my magic simply bats it away. The book starts to shake in my hands, not because it’s trying to cast more magic but because it's nervous.

“The only reason why I am not destroying you is because I need the antidote. None of us meant you any harm, and it was a real fucking dick move to curse him. He is mine and not for you to harm!”

“I’m so sorry. I thought he was like my last master, I’ve lived in peace for so long now, but the trauma of what happened before still haunts me. I reacted instinctively.” The book replies, panic evident in its tone, and while I am mad as fucking hell, I do know what it’s like to leave with trauma that dictates your reactions and makes you act without thought.

“If that is true and you are truly sorry, then tell me the cure, help me save him, and maybe I won’t burn you,” I reply, my threat harsh, but there is no length I will not go to in order to save Reaper.

“Yes, of course.” It replies immediately, and I hold it in both hands as the pages start turning until they finally stop on a page that glows and reveals the ingredients that we need to gather in order to fix Reaper.

“Thank you,” I reply, as my feet hit the ground again and my anger recedes slightly.

“You should know the antidote needs to be given quickly. Your mate has slowed the progression of it and, in doing so, has given you extra time, but I fear that it’s not enough.” The book explains. “I’m sorry. Had I realised who you were, I never would’ve harmed one of your mates. I would’ve known you meant me no harm.”

Not much of what he just said makes sense, and there’s that word again, mate. I don’t know what it means, and I don’t have the time to question or ponder it right now; all I can focus on is that we’re going to run out of time.

“I’ll deal with you later. What’s your name?”

“I’ve never had a name,” it replies.

Frowning, I reply, “I’ll think of one.”

“What’s happening?” Storm asks cautiously.

Turning to face him, I say, “You heard the book, we’ve got the antidote, but we don’t have much time to get the ingredients. We need to get him back to Grey’s and hope like fuck we can find all the ingredients here in the Shadowlands.”

They all share a look, “Farren, none of us can understand what it was saying.”

Frowning, I look at Grey, “Even you?”

He shakes his head, “We couldn’t understand you either.”

“Again? For fuck sake.” I curse and then turn my attention back to the book, turning it to face the others so they can read the ingredients, “alright, we don’t have time for more of my weirdness. Look, we need to find these things.” When they all stay silent, I sigh heavily and ask, “What now?”

“We can’t read that. It’s in a language that we don’t know,” Loki explains.

“Oh for fuck sake, seriously,” I mutter and then add, “Book, could you please make it so that they can read it?”

“Yes, of course, one second,” magic consumes the pages as they glow with a warm light again.

Turning it around, I ask, “Can you read it now?”

“Yeah,” Rival replies and then starts to reach for it before pausing, “Is it going to harm me?”

“No, he’ll behave himself now. He didn’t mean to in the first place; well not entirely, it’s complicated.” I try to explain and then hand the book to Rival.

“Some of these ingredients are really fucking rare,” Rival mutters, and Grey walks up behind him, reading over his shoulder.

“The best place to start would be Monty. Even if he doesn’t have it all, he’ll have most of it and most likely know how to get the rest too,” Grey suggests.

“Great, let’s get him back to the castle and get him comfortable and then we can go to see Monty,” Zev adds.

Rival hands me back the book as he and Mayhem carefully pick up Reaper, and we leave the room as I grab the key fragment box on the way past.