A Glimpse into Darkness: Prequel of The Immortal Sorrows series Page 2

  “My, but aren’t you a delectable sight?” My heart hammered into my throat. Suriel.

  I sat up quickly and covered myself beneath the rose petals. “Get out!” Water splashed over the sides of the tub and onto the floor. I would have his head for this.

  “Calm down. I merely wished to speak with you.”

  “Get. Out. Now.” I was shaking with rage. How dare he interrupt my bath? How dare he come near me at all? If I’d had a sword, I would have run him through and left him bleeding on the rugs.

  Dark eyes mirrored the fires lit in the fireplace. He looked positively demonic. “What must I do to prove myself to you, Clotho?” He licked his lips like a starving hound. His hand playfully swatted a few rose petals out of the way down by my foot. I had to be careful of him. I was unarmed and he’d already crossed more than a few lines by coming to me in this way.

  “Is this the way a gentleman behaves, Suriel? Is this the way an archangel behaves?”

  He barked a short laugh. “You’re hardly a lady, my love. A spoiled brat is what you are.”

  I bit my tongue to bring tears to my eyes. “Do you mean to hurt me, then? Is that why you’ve barged in here like this? To take what you think will never be freely given?”

  The tears did the trick. Instantly his eyes softened. He looked away from me, ran both hands through his hair and down his cheeks. The heavy breath he’d been holding released in a rush. He got hold of himself almost as quickly as he’d lost control. “My apologies, my lady. You’ve driven me quite mad it seems.”

  I had him. He was such a fool, and so easily played. “Hand me a towel, Suriel, and turn your back please.” He did as I asked, even turned away when I stepped from the tub. “Wait for me in the other room. I won’t be long.”

  I stepped behind the dressing screen and wrapped myself in some proper robes. My hands were shaking as I tied the sash. Was it fear or the first rush of newly tasted power? Perhaps a bit of both.

  I took my time. Let him suffer for what he’d done. The sheer impertinence!

  He sat, head hung low, in a chair hardy big enough to contain him. If I weren’t still in a murderous mood, I might’ve felt sorry for him. As it was, my mind raced with possibilities. I could use him to get my way, and once I held the power of Fate, I could cast him aside or keep him and use him to my own ends.

  His eyes followed me as I crossed the room and knelt carefully on the floor at his feet. I took his hands in both of mine and pressed them to my feverish cheek. “I’m sorry—“

  “No.” I stopped his apology before it could be properly made. “I am the one who should be sorry. I’ve not been fair with you. I’ve not been honest, either, and it’s led you to do this desperate thing.” His eyes widened. This was hardly the thing he expected to hear.

  I pressed my lips together, looked up at him from beneath thick lashes. “It’s not that I don’t find you worthy of me, Suriel. I do. I find you brave and very handsome. It would be an honor to be loved by you.” I heaved a heavy sigh and looked away.

  “What is it, my darling?” His tone was tender and his eyes pleading. I had him exactly where I wanted him.

  I shook my head. “No. I shouldn’t tell you.”

  “Please. Let me help you. I’ll do anything for you.”

  “Really, I mustn’t burden you.”

  “I beg of you!” He pulled his hands from mine to grab my shoulders and lift me onto his lap. Automatically, I slipped from his grasp and stood a little away from him. I could almost smell his desperation.

  I bit my lip. “It’s Mother. She doesn’t believe we would suit each other. I have to obey her wishes. Surely you understand?”

  “Aisa doesn’t approve of me?” Instantly the look on his face hardened into something deadly. There was the look of an executioner about him.

  “She approves of you, just not for me.” I smoothed a hand down his reddened cheek. Oh, there was fire in him. He was enraged and trying not to show it to me. “Forgive me, but as long as Aisa holds the office of Fate, you and I can never be.”

  The muscles in his jaw jumped beneath my fingertips. “I understand completely, my love. And it shall be as you say, but know this. All things are prone to change, even she who will not be turned.”

  ***

  Suriel proved to be a more than useful tool. Within a fortnight my mother was stripped of her office and all of her power and responsibility were transferred to me. To say it was a surprise would be an understatement. It was shocking, even to me, that the Council of Elders should vote to replace her, especially given that Cronus sat on the council.

  Cronus watched me openly in those moments when he thought I wouldn’t see. It was quite rude of him, but then I wasn’t convinced, as Aisa was, that he wasn’t slow-witted. The way he watched me, though. He looked like a child who was deciding whether or not to crush an insect.

  Did I feel guilty for the terrible thing I’d done? A tad, but Aisa seemed relieved to step down after so many years and pass the threads to me. I wondered at it, at the time. How could she not know? I found out soon enough. Fate may see all the possibilities a human life is capable of, but she is blind to her own destiny.

  The celebrations went long into the wee hours of the morning. So many immortals came to congratulate me or to curry favor, but there was only one I wished to see. And finally, he came to me.

  The golden head bent as he kissed my hand and a thrill went through me unlike any other. Soon, he would be mine. “I offer my congratulations, my lady. May you be as fair and just as your mother was as you execute your office.”

  “Walk with me in the garden, Ashrael. I wish to speak with you.” I could barely contain my happiness. I wanted nothing more than to be alone with him.

  “As you wish.” There was just the hint of a smile on those perfect lips. He walked beside me, so close I could almost feel the heat from him, and the whole time he remained silent.

  “I do love the night. It’s so mysterious and ripe with possibilities.” I inhaled the heady, combined scents of roses and magnolia. I cocked my head, just so, as we walked along. My braid slid over my bare shoulder, leaving my neck exposed in a most alluring manner. “What do you love, my lord?”

  “Order.” He didn’t even hesitate. “All the world is chaos for much of the time. I love the quiet moments, for they are precious and few.”

  I laughed. He certainly wasn’t going to make this easy for me. Most men would have been on their knees by that point, but then he wasn’t most men. If he were, I supposed I wouldn’t have wanted him in the first place. “Such an easy answer and quickly given. Surely you love something besides order?” I glanced sideways at him and smiled.

  He stopped walking and turned serious eyes to me. “What else is there?” Silvery moonlight was most generous in the way it touched the hard planes of his face.

  Why wasn’t he wooing me? Had I overestimated my own many charms? Surely not. Perhaps he was shy, then? It was true, we were hardly equals, but then I was willing to overlook his background. He only needed some encouragement.

  “There are any number of things one might love. Beauty. Accomplishment. Pleasure. Power." I ran my hand along the muscles of his forearm before he pulled away from me. This wasn’t going well at all. A stroll through the garden at night is supposed to be romantic, but he kept himself so guarded. Always so secretive. It was nearly impossible to breach his defenses.

  “You have such beautiful hands. May I see?” I reached for his hand, turned it this way and that. “Large and capable. A warrior’s hands. How many hearts have you stopped with them?” There was power in him, and great, untapped potential. My heart sped up a little at the thought of all the harvests he’d made through the years. So many lives taken.

  He started to pull away from me again, but I trapped his hand between the two of mine. The smile on his lips didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Too many to count, Clotho. There have been far too many to count.”

  “I was thinking, now that I hold the offi
ce of Fate, we should get to know one another better.” I focused on his full lower lip a moment longer than necessary before boldly looking him in the eye. Those beautiful grey eyes with the long, long lashes. I smiled my most winning smile. “Together, we could be unstoppable.” No man could resist my charms. And yet, somehow I felt him pulling away from me. It wasn’t just the absence of the warm press of his palm against mine. There was a real sense of his pulling back from me completely.

  “I am at a loss, it seems.” He took a step back, then another. “You realize we would never suit, do you not?” What was happening? Why was he stepping away from me when he should be taking me in his arms and pledging his undying love?

  Heat crept up my throat and into my cheeks as something like dread settled into the deepest part of me. Was he rejecting me? It was impossible, and yet… “Oh, dear me! You think that you and I—“

  I forced a throaty laugh, even as I died a little inside. “Of course I’m not suggesting such a thing! What a silly thing to think.” I forced a brittle smile in the face of my overwhelming humiliation. “I merely meant we should be friends. The best of friends, as we’ll be working so closely together.” He relaxed his stance. Even the lines of his face seemed to ease. Was the thought of having me by his side so repugnant to him?

  What man in his right mind would reject me? Didn’t he understand the great honor I did him? The warm little glow in my heart flared and burned to ashes in an instant. Tears burned like acid at the back of my throat. I swallowed them without making a sound. He would never know what he’d just done. He would never know he could hurt me.

  “It grows late. Would you like me to escort you back?”

  “You’re always such a gentleman, Ashrael. No, thank you. I believe I’ll try to get some work finished tonight. Aisa left quite a lot to do.”

  “I will bid you good night, then.”

  “Good night! Sleep well.” He nodded as he turned on his heel and took his leave of me. I watched him go with a smile fixed on my face. Only when he was out of sight did I dare unclose my fist to examine my stinging hand. My nails had cut bloody crescents into the palm.

  ***

  I went directly to my mother’s spinning room. My spinning room, now. I picked among the threads. So many lives to choose from. Thousands upon thousands, but I needed only one. A nearly ripe soul. Someone almost ready to face Judgment. I found a random thread and plucked it from among the ones at my disposal. Rose gold. What a lovely shade. This one would do nicely. It was perfect for my purposes.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” I startled guiltily at the unexpected intruder.

  “Excuse me?”

  Melita stepped out of the shadows cast behind the great loom. “I said I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Whatever it is you’re up to is bound to end badly for you, sister dear.”

  I wound the golden thread round my fingers till it formed a neat little bow, then I tucked it into the pouch at my waist for later. It wouldn’t do to lose it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t you?” She wore the smug little smile she saved for those moments when she felt superior. Our mother wasn’t there to save her this time.

  “You would do well to mind your own business, little spider.”

  “Or what? You’ll get rid of me like you did our mother?” She drew closer to me and when she was within reach I grabbed her wrist and brought her in so close no one else could possibly hear me.

  “Yes. I’ll dispose of you just like I did her.” She hissed because I was hurting her, but I didn’t care. I squeezed harder until I could feel the bones of her wrist move beneath the pressure. The vindictive little light in her eyes faded as she realized the danger she was in. She cried out in pain, but I refused to let her go.

  “Clotho, stop. I beg you!”

  Madness overcame me. I had to dispose of her now. She knew too much. I let her go and pushed her away from me. “Don’t worry. You enjoy spinning so much. I’ll make sure you’re kept occupied.” I smoothed my skirts down. The gesture soothed me. “Now, go. Leave me.” Tears pooled along her lash line and threatened to fall.

  She nearly tripped on the hem of her gown as she ran from the room.

  I straightened the threads on the table, touched the loom with a shaking hand. I’d betrayed my mother. Now I was forced to dispose of my sister, too. And all for what? Ashrael. All my plans… all my hopes… ruined.

  Frustrated tears burned at the back of my throat and prickled against my eyelids. I wouldn’t give in to weakness. Not now. Not ever.

  I was trapped in the office of Fate, and there was nothing I could do about it. I started to grab the spinning wheel. I intended to throw it to the floor and destroy the thing. Burn it. Anything to get out of this nightmare I’d created. My fingers curled around the curved wheel when a short knock on the door nearly surprised a cry from me. Surely, even Melita wasn’t stupid enough to come back to me so soon after the way I’d treated her? No, not my sister. Cronus.

  He was the last person I expected and the very least one I wished to see. “May I come in, Clotho? I feel now would be the right time to speak with you.” He looked at me with the face of a youth, but his eyes… His eyes were ancient and dreadful.

  I was being silly. I forced myself to remain calm. He couldn’t know what I was doing. No one could. I barely knew myself. I’d only formed my plans as I walked away from Ashrael.

  He shook his head as he ran his hands lightly over and through the threads of life spread across the table.

  “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

  I took the one less traveled by,

  And that has made all the difference,” he finished softly. More of his games and puzzles. How he loved to irritate me with them.

  My calm façade evaporated. I was angry suddenly. So overwhelmingly angry that I could have cheerfully killed him. If only it were possible. How dare he follow me? How dare he speak to me at all? “What are you saying? Stop speaking riddles to me!”

  His eyes were as wide and guileless as a child. The most dangerous immortal, my mother had warned. I gave a mental chuckle at the thought. She didn’t know what she was talking about. As it turned out, I was the most dangerous of all. I’d gotten rid of her, hadn’t I?

  “It’s not a riddle, child. It’s from a poem. A man named Robert Frost will write it in the far-flung future. You should look him up someday. He’s very good.” He came into the flickering candlelight and pulled a chair out for himself. The screech it made as he dragged it across the stone floor set the tiny hair on the back of my neck at attention. “I can’t remember the entire thing off the top of my head, but it’s quite beautiful. It’s also appropriate, given the circumstances.” He sank down heavily into the chair and made himself thoroughly comfortable. “You also find yourself at the path diverged. On the one hand you can choose to do what you came here for,” he held his hand up as if he were holding a tray. “And on the other, you can leave and retire to your room.” He held the other hand up and tilted them both as if a scale were being balanced. “Walk away from this. Salve your wounded pride, and carry on with all the dignity and grace I believe you’re capable of.”

  I wet my lips carefully. Forced myself to take deep breaths. I would not scream at him to leave. It would be uncivilized and beneath my dignity. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but if you’ll excuse me I have things to do.”

  He brought his hands together in a sharp clap. I flinched in spite of myself. Something about the gesture suggested something final. It sounded like the closing of a door. “There is a thing,” he said carefully, “called the butterfly effect. I won’t bore you with the details, but it is a scientific theory which will be discovered many centuries from now. The gist of it states that a tiny thing, such as a butterfly flapping its wings can set off a chain of events which result in a huge thing, such as a hurricane. A storm of incredible power. You, my dear, are about to set off a hurricane of epic proportions, if only you
knew. There are repercussions for every life you touch.”

  It was pity I saw, written clearly upon his face, and it made me boil with rage. “Get out. Now.” I pointed towards the door. I’d had enough of him. Enough of all men for the evening.

  He shrugged my dismissal away. “I’m only trying to help you.”

  “I do not need your help. Not now. Not ever. I certainly do not need advice based on some primitive human concept.”

  “You say ‘human’ like it’s a bad thing. They’re not a plague. You could learn a lot from them.”

  “They’re savages.” Spittle flew from my lips, but I didn’t care. I was beyond caring about anything.

  He nodded as if he agreed with me. “Aye. Savages, the lot of them, but they understand a thing or two about unrequited love, revenge, and jealousy. Those things will make savages of even the most refined people, won’t they?” He sighed as if this conversation made him weary. “Some of those savages are quite eloquent. There’s a man named William Shakespeare. Look him up when he’s born. He is a most articulate savage.”

  “Keep your humans and your righteous advice to yourself, Cronus. I have no need of either.”

  He hesitated a moment before nodding his head and coming to his feet. “I thought as much, but I had to try. This is the usual way our conversation ends. There’s always the lone hope I hold out that someday you’ll listen to me.” As he was walking out the door he turned back to me. “No matter what you do, Ashrael will never love you, but it’s not too late to stop this.”

  Something cold and poisonous uncoiled inside of me at his words. “I may never have his love, but I will have his fear.”

  ~THE END~

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  I hope you’ve enjoyed this story. Please, continue reading for a free sample of “Wings of Darkness,” Book 1 of “The Immortal Sorrows series”

  Wings of Darkness

  Book 1

  The Immortal Sorrows series

  Sherri A. Wingler