Chapter 28

28

LECTURE NOTES FROM THEOLOGY, OUR GODS AND GODDESSES I:

Hades may be the god of the underworld, governing over the dead, but Thanatos is the god of death itself, carrying souls to the underworld.

F lames smothered under her every footstep.

Cinder from burning wood flew, and what landed atop her sphere of shadow-magic, fizzled into ash. Her magic hated fire, that's all she knew.

Bolting toward Soren’s home, she searched for a clearing. Nothing remained, only flame and collapsing, burning wood.Snapping in the distance stole her attention as his barn crumpled next.

This land is fit for the god of the underworld himself.

She sprinted for the paddocks and burst through the burning fence. One grassy patch remained, and within it only three horses were left. Sparks flew across the clearing, startling them, while the fire reflected the panic in their big, round eyes .

Thessa called her magic to bloom around her, larger—wider. She had to learn how to control the flow of energy. The current within her felt endless, like a sea. She just needed to anchor down and pull. And she’d need a strong anchor, like something made of steel.

Closing her eyes she breathed her plan into action. Visualizing herself as the anchor, and unfaltering like her final dagger, she plunged into the sea. It was dark and soft, like satin.

A heartbeat later, her magic shot from her fingertips. The dark sphere she’d created grew large enough to add one horse.

Catching her breath, she stepped toward the one nearest and begged, “Let’s go.”

Gripping it by the halter, she sprinted toward the property line.Soren was waiting there with Hades in tow; his face was frozen. It had to be a combination of shock and grief.

Breath staggered, she could only manage to say, “I’m so sorry,” before turning back.

The clearing in the pasture was smaller now. The two horses were rearing in fear, and she’d only conjured enough magic for one. They held doom in their eyes—a feeling she knew well, and one she refused to let another innocent soul feel.

Thessa roared, like her freedom call atop Hades, digging into her sea of magic. She pulled from its darkest depths, expelling enough energy to cover a dozen horses.

Flames died where her shadows bloomed.

Running between the two horses, she led them out to safety.

Soren’s face had shifted to a ghostly expression as she drew her magic back in. She wouldn’t ask if his family had fled, died, or been taken. She couldn’t.

“I need your help,” was all Soren said, his tone was weak .

She nodded once in agreement.

Curling Ares around, Soren galloped back across the field.

Again, he left her alone to mount Hades. Without a boulder, Thessa stood beside her, bracing the saddle. “You’re going to let me mount you from down here, right ?”

Hades chuffed, one hoof stomping in answer. Hoping that was a yes, Thessa shoved one foot in the stirrup, hurling herself up with the other. Nope. That was harder than she’d ever imagined.

Hades bobbed her long head in what had to be amusement.

Thessa tried again. She was close, but before landing in the saddle, Hades took off. Wrapping her arms around the horse’s neck for purchase, she held on and screamed. Falling wasn’t an option. The three remaining horses from Soren’s property were herding around Hades, and being trampled to death was not the way she’d like to die.

Think Thessa, think .

Grunting, she remembered what Soren had said about her lesson earlier. Squeezing with her thighs, she made several, small hopping motions until she made it upright.

Huffing, she exclaimed, “Hades, you’ve officially earned your name.”

The mare pricked her ears back, still pounding the earth beneath her hooves.

What felt like two miles had passed when Soren, who’d not been far ahead thanks to Hades’ speed, threw his arm up—a signal. Ares slowed, and all the horses followed suit.

With their horses side by side, Soren said, “Emiel’s property is across these woods. We need to get there before—” He looked up, scanning the sky.

She followed his gaze. He was right. If the soldiers had come for Soren, then they’d hunt Emiel down too. Thessa whispered, “No smoke.”

“Not yet,” he added, kicking Ares into a canter.

Entering a birch tree forest, Thessa and Soren kept to the trail. The three other horses banded together, weaving gracefully through the thin, silver trunks.

About a mile passed when Soren threw up his arm again.

He jumped off first, tying Ares to a nearby tree. “We’ll make the rest of the way by foot. The horses will draw too much attention.”

Thessa understood. She dismounted and tied Hades beside Ares, who’d already started munching on tree bark.

After pacing the trail ahead, she started hearing muffled voices. Thessa and Soren crouched behind a row of mulberry bushes near the edge of the thick forest.

The voices came in sharper. “In the carriage, now!”

The bushes were dense enough to conceal them from sight, while still giving her a good look at Emiel’s property. Peering through the leaves revealed a two-story brick home with black shutters and three chimneys. Two Central Divinity marked carriages sat in the driveway, along with six Elemental soldiers

A male with red and silver hair was on his knees, pleading up at them. Standing beside him was a weeping female with fire-cuffs encasing her wrists. Three other males stood behind them; two were very young.

Soren whispered. “That’s Emiel’s father Francis, on his knees, and his mother.”

Thessa sighed, “The other three?”

“His brothers.”

One soldier shouted, “We’re losing daylight, everyone in the carriage. ”

The eldest among the brothers shoved the younger ones behind him and whispered something.

Every guard outstretched a sizzling hand in warning.

“That’s Wayland,” Soren said under his breath.

Wayland stepped aside and opened his arms in a plea of innocence, allowing his brothers to step inside the carriage.

“Neremiah and Brinkley,” Soren noted.

Thessa exhaled. “We have to help them.”

“Wait,” he snapped.

“For what?” she snapped back. “They can’t take them. You know what they’ll?—”

“Haste is useless. Wayland can take two, maybe three of them, but the youngest are defenseless and his mother is shackled. They’ll kill them all or use the younger two for bait if we move too quickly. I’m thinking.”

He was right—again.

Emiel’s father boarded next. He was weeping with his arm outstretched toward his wife, who couldn’t return the gesture without scorching her wrists. She paced toward the carriage last, about to step inside when two guards cut her off. They shoved her back before hopping inside with the others, and slamming the door shut.

A moment later, the driver whipped the horses and left.

As it disappeared down their driveway, Thessa asked, “Why would they leave her? Why are we still waiting?”

“Start conjuring your magic and listen for my whistle. Do the same thing you did at my house, and I’ll take care of the rest.” Without another word he dipped out of the bushes.

The four remaining soldiers stretched their arms, aiming for Emiel’s mother. Just as Soren approached, fire rushed from their fingertips, incinerating her in one blink.

Thessa gasped. They were too late, again. Steadying her breath, she reigned in her focus .

The soldiers whirled around to find Soren standing with predatory stillness … until serpents poured from his fingertips.

Flames were cast, killing them on impact. “Where have you been hiding? Soldiers, it looks as though our prisoner—or should I say demon —has come to his senses and turned himself in.”

Soren snarled.

He’d lost everything and yet there he was, tossing more serpents at the soldiers. As one was incinerated, another leapt. One even found its target’s neck, spinning around and squeezing. The soldier turned purple and crashed to his knees.

Retaliating swiftly, a shallow line of fire appeared between the Elementals and Soren—a barrier his magic could not cross.

Soren hissed.

Why had he not whistled yet? She could extinguish that fire.

Between leaves and flickering flames, Thessa winced when the soldier who’d been choking for air caught the blade tossed at him. He slashed the serpent, again and again, until his body was entombed with them.

The three remaining soldiers watched in horror. One shot a look across the flames and questioned Soren, “What are you?”

Soren growled, “Your worst nightmare,” as he let his magic erupt. Tendrils of liquid night shifted to serpents around his feet like a rippling mound of death.

His magic was not like any other magic, and she was fascinated.

“Now,” the soldier called, and flames streaked across the sky. Fireballs crashed into his pit of serpents.“Again. ”

More fire.

Soren’s whistle rang through the air.

Thessa bolted from the mulberry bush and treaded through his bed of beasts. Stepping beside him, her magic stood as tall as he, encasing them both.

“Looks as though our prisoner has brought along a demon companion. The general will be awarding our unit that bonus after all,” he sneered at his fellow soldiers. “Well, first, she’ll be disappointed, had she known the prisoner was a demon from the start we could’ve had more fun with it in the dungeon.” He paused, eyeing the pile of ash that was once Emiel’s mother, and then back to Soren before continuing, “So tell me, demons , where’s your friend, Emiel? Does he wield flames like his father or shadows like his mother?”

Thessa looked to Soren for silent confirmation. Indeed, Emiel’s mother was not an Elemental.

Laughter echoed behind the barrier of fire. Elementals no longer feared shadow-wielders, not with their numbers being so vast, and the power to overcome them. But Soren was something else entirely, something to fear.

She was something to fear.

“Fine, have it your way,” the talkative soldier called out before more fireballs shot across the sky.

Except this time, they fizzled into ash.

She could feel Soren grinning. He whispered down to her, “Not bad for someone who doesn’t plan on using her magic.”

The approval tugged at her lips. Maybe her heart.

Closing her eyes, plunging into her well within, Thessa became darkness. The sphere she’d conjured encased the soldiers easily.

Without access to their strongest power, she watched them fumble for their air-magic. Air pressed into her shadows, only to be sucked up and away, reinforcing her own shield.

It was not what she was expecting, nor the soldiers.

“How in the—” one called out before taking off.

A smile formed on her lips as she spoke softly to Soren. “Go on, then.”

The soldiers’ screams had not lasted long.

Carving through the trees, Ares and Hades headed north—toward the carriage holding the McPorters.

She’d released the horses from the other carriage at the McPorters, and without ties, Soren’s remaining horses had scattered by the time they’d returned.

As the trees broke, Hades and Ares continued their gallop down the familiar path to Mabelton. Their speed had been an advantage. She caught sight of the carriage just as Soren signaled the horses to slow.

He spoke in a hushed voice. “We attack from behind. The serpents will startle the horses, and the driver will halt at their distress. My shadows will do the rest. The trickier part will be the soldiers inside the carriage.”

A smile appeared on the edge of her lips. “Speak for yourself serpent-wielder.”

For a moment, a flash of joy sparked in Soren’s eyes, but when he blinked, it was gone. What remained looked hollow, like two depthless craters.

As a pair of Soren’s beasts slithered toward the carriage, their black and blue scales shimmered in the bright sun. They were juvenile, about an arm’s length. All his serpents had appeared that way, even after the slicing and regrowth. It was like they worked together too, with one mind, controlled effortlessly by their master.

The slimy pair parted ways around the carriage.

As predicted, the horses side-stepped in an attempt to avoid what was tickling their hocks. The carriage veered into the long grass, and the driver leapt out. His footsteps must’ve alerted Soren’s beasts, or the control he had on his magic was just that good.

Greeted by slithering shadows, the driver had no time to retaliate. They launched.

The serpents wrapped around his head and neck, occluding all air. Collapsing to the ground, the driver clawed at his face and kicked his legs for mercy he wouldn’t find.

Thessa swallowed, recalling the look on the last driver’s face—the one from the remaining carriage at Emiel’s property. Soren had opened the door and was greeted with begging.

There’d been no use.

Part of her wanted to run then. Pull away from the vicious shadow-wielder and never look back. Except one thought had lingered, as if it were engraved inside her mind. Her purpose, it turned out, was a necessary evil.

End the culling.

Soren and Thessa eyed each other, their unspoken plan intact.

Stop the fire-spewing witches.

“Now,” Soren shouted, charging forward atop Ares—as fearless as he.

His bellow had sent Hades flying.

When they reached the carriage and dismounted, things were quiet. Too quiet.

Breath steadying, she conjured enough magic to protect them both. She was a ball of night, and he was her fury.

Gripping the handle, Soren swung the door open.