Arianna Rose: The Gates of Hell (Part 5) (24 page)

“You did this?” she asked, her voice echoing shrilly in her ears, as if it belonged to another person entirely. 

Dane scoured his face then tunneled his fingers through his hair.  “He told me he would let you live if I did it.”

“Wait, what?  Who told you?” The walls surrounding her pitched violently.

“Darius,” Dane answered, his voice belonged to a young boy tattling on his older brother for wrongdoings they were equally responsible for, timid yet accusing.  “Darius told me he would kill you if I didn’t kill Desmond.”

“Liar!” she spat, her body trembling violently with erratic, overwhelming spikes of power. 
“That is a lie!”  The world tilted on its axis.  She held on to the angelic warlock she loved as aftershocks of energy reverberated through her marrow.   Silky ringlets of Desmond’s golden hair coiled around her fingers.  All the while they tingled with heat, ready for release.  “You didn’t do this for me.  You did this for you!”

Dane’s expression collapsed.  He did not deny her accusations.  She knew they were true, and so did he. 

She was about to say as much when Desmond’s essence wavered, the rise and fall of his chest stuttering. 

Tears overflowed her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.  “No, no, no.  Desmond, don’t die.  Please don’t leave me.”

“Can’t you save him?” Dane’s voice, a hoarse whisper, caused her head to whip from Desmond to him. 

Without a word, her arm raised and energy exploded from her fingertips like a sonic boom.  Dane blasted backward.  He slammed into the far tunnel wall, dust and small rocks showering around him.  But she did not let him fall to the ground.  She held him where he was. 

Her vision blinked like an ancient television set without reception, alternating between the full range of colors, and blood red.  Fire sizzled in her veins, begging vengefully for release.  “I can’t save him.  I’m not a healer,” she said barely harnessing the rage coursing through her veins.

“
Try! Do it now, Arianna!” Dane’s voice cracked. 

“This is your fault,” she said through her teeth, hatred storming and a thin jet of fire hissing past his head, missing him by a fraction of an inch. 

“Just kill me, you know you want to,” Dane cried out, panic pitching his voice up an octave. 

The need to kill him, to avenge what he’d done, multiplied.  But killing Dane would not help Desmond.  It would make her exactly like Dane. 
The realization was like racing a Maserati straight into a brick wall. 

Lowering her hand, she released Dane from her hold.  He fell to the ground, the impact of his body hitting the tunnel floor kicking up plumes of powder.  As he scrambled to his feet and dusted off his clothes, Ari
anna looked from Desmond to Dane.  Tears blurred her vision and emotion choked her, but her words came out with surprising clarity.  “Get out of here,
traitor
,” she said.  “The price you’ll pay will be living with what you did here, what you did to me.”

Dane’s face contorted in pain.

“I never want to see you again, ever,” she added. 

“Arianna, please—” he pleaded, but she wanted no part of anything he had to say. 
He’d betrayed her.  His words were meaningless.

“Go!” she shouted.

The sound of Dane crying was drowned out by the sound of her own sobs as she looked away from him and stared into Desmond’s ashen face.  When she looked up, Dane was gone. 

Alo
ne, her tears flowed unabashedly.  “Oh Desmond,” she managed.  She scooped his shoulders off the ground and held him close.  “I have to get you out of here.  I have to get you to Briathos.  He’ll know what to do.”  She cast her eyes to the tunnel ceiling, envisioning jewel-crusted heavens and begged, “Please, help me help him.”  She then squeezed her eyes shut and pictured the ruins of the castle.

The tunnel melted away and color saturated her surroundings.  When the castle ruins reappeared, she was prone and with Desmond’s large body draped across her lap. 

Jason and his team had joined Briathos and the others, and all turned toward her and Desmond with a start. 

“Oh no!  What happened?” Jason
panicked. 

“Help him!” was all Arianna could say. 

Jason moved toward her, along with three other unfamiliar faces.  They each reached for Desmond, carefully turning him onto his back.  They opened his shirt and stepped back.  When they did, Briathos came into full view, his chin lowered and his eyes downcast.  Tears welled and made his translucent eyes emit a pain so pure she swore heaven wept along with him. 

“Briathos, please, is there anything you can do?” she begged.  “I know you’ve healed in the past.  I’ve heard the stories.”  She sniffled and swallowed hard against the lump that clogged her throat.  “
Take my power.  Take the air from my lungs, my heart from my chest.  I don’t care; whatever you need to do, just save him.”  Sobs racked her body.  “I’ll take his place if you’ll let me.  Please!”

Briathos raised a pale hand, his eyes never leaving Desmond.  “His light has not left him,” he said, his voice echoing with the one sound she wanted to hear: hope. 

“How did this happen?  Did Darius do this?  Is Dane all right?  Where’s Dane?” Jason fired his questions in rapid succession, worry lining them.

“Darius didn’t do this to him,” Arianna said with
regret.  “Dane did, and he’s gone.”

“What?  No!  That can’t be!  No!” Jason started, but Briathos cut him off.

“Now is not the time, Jason,” he cautioned and looked from Jason’s face to Desmond’s bloodied midsection. 

Briathos knelt
and examined the wound.  “I cannot tell by looking if any organs have been damaged,” he said then held a hand over Desmond’s stomach.  It hovered there for several seconds, his eyes closed.  “Hmm,” he rumbled.  “I can cauterize the flesh and stop the bleeding.  I don’t sense a rupture within, but it is hard to tell.  I’m not a doctor.”  His eyes opened and he took Desmond’s face in both hands.  “This is going to hurt my friend.  I am so sorry,” was all he said.

Desmond’s
eyelids fluttered in acknowledgment, and Briathos proceeded to place his hands squarely over the gash.  He began to chant, his invocation tolling like a bell as it echoed through the hollows of the structure.

The stone walls of the castle shook and floorboards groaned as the entire room shuddered.  A spiraling helix of iridescence
opened above them near the ceiling, the shape swelling in time with Briathos’ voice.  Brilliance, breathtaking in its splendor, filled the space and Arianna had to squint to see what was happening.

Briathos still bowed over Desmond. 
A liquid drop of golden luminescence fell from the tip of his finger, his body at the center of a circle of golden light.  He muttered ancient words Arianna had never heard, his brow low and his face a mask of steadfast concentration.  The air tightened, shivered with pressure, a rush of wind rustling in the distance.  Tendrils of hair, a crisp snow white, billowed like banners around his head, a current of air sweeping through the room in a low hum.  The scent of chamomile and sun-soaked sweetness perfumed the atmosphere and shadows were driven from sight as Briathos’ hands began to glow brilliant silver, heat radiating from them with such intensity the area around them warmed with the feel of summer sun.  Desmond’s full lips parted on a silent gasp, his eyes wide and anguished.  But Briathos had only begun.  Light poured off him in waves, pooling at his feel and surrounding his body in resplendent illumination.  Energy continued to flow from the elder’s hands, transferring blistering heat against Desmond’s flesh as he moved them over the wound and cauterized it. 

Desmond’s back arched, his body jerking with the brittle need for a moment’s relief.  Painful
, empty breaths as he struggled against the agony tore at Arianna.  She wanted to go to him, to take away his pain.  But she knew that without Briathos’ help he would die. And she refused to allow him to die.  Still, watching him writhe was nearly her undoing.  She bit down hard on her lower lip until she tasted blood and willed her body still until Briathos removed his hands from where they’d hovered, the scent of seared flesh polluting the honeyed scents wafting in the atmosphere. 

Lifting his hand,
Briathos swished it in the air, a shimmering trail left in its wake.  “It is done,” he said.  The light that had exploded from his every pore began to dim, his skin resuming its normal hue. 

“Is he going to live?” Arianna whispered.

Looking drained and frail, Briathos stood slowly.  He reached out and gripped the wall for support.  “He has lost a lot of blood, and the severity of his injury is still unknown.  I did everything I could.”

“What are you saying?” she asked, her eyes searching his. 
Her voice was panicked and high-pitched.  “You’ve healed countless warriors over the centuries you’ve been alive, haven’t you?”

Briathos nodded solemnly. 

“Then what’re you saying?  Will Desmond live?” she asked, not really wanting to know the answer to her question. 

“I’m saying that if
there was internal bleeding, he will not make it,” he answered sorrowfully. 

“No, no, no,” Arianna said, shaking her head as she rejected what she’d heard.  “He has to make it.”

With the tenuous hope she’d clung to like a lifeline stripped from her, Desmond’s life hanging in the balance, she felt as though a hole had been punched in her core, through the very center of her being, its edges raw and ragged.  She closed her eyes and fought against it, fought the fiery flash of agony so pure it bled the air from her lungs.  She tried to breathe, but felt as if her lungs had collapsed.  Her throat had tightened and tears blurred her vision.

“Desmond,” she said.  His name was a benediction, a prayer carried on the gossamer wings of an angel.  And the dams holding her tears at bay faltered.

She turned away from Jason and the others, from Briathos and Desmond, and cried so hard her very soul wept.  A life without Desmond was unfathomable.  They were connected.  He was hers and she was his.  Prophecy or no prophecy, she’d known it from the first time she’d laid eyes on him. 

Taking deep breaths to calm herself, her tears slowed.  He had to live.  She needed to believe he would.  She needed to have faith.  And she needed to fulfill the destiny for which she’d been chosen. 

Closing her eyes, she felt the gentle thrum of a calling whisper up her spine and shiver through her, making plain her mission.  Squaring her shoulders and lifting her head, her next move became clear. 

“Stay with Desmond, all of y
ou,” she ordered the men in the room.  “Guard him and the gateway.”

“Where are you going?” Briathos asked, though she sensed the ancient warlock knew the answer to his question already. 

“I’m going to find Darius,” she said.  “He was down in the tunnels earlier, but left.  He’s not here.  So he must be at the site of the last portal.

“We were just there,” Jason interjected.  “There wasn’t any sign of him.”

Shaking her head, she said, “He’s there, I know it.”  Certainty flowed in her blood with startling clarity.  No one could dissuade her from going, and no one could convince her she wouldn’t find Darius when she sifted to the final destination. 

“You can’t go alone,” Jason challenged. 

Arianna pinned him with a keen gaze.  “I can and I will,” her words sliced the air between them.  “This was always how it was going to happen.  I am destined to face him alone.”

“Arianna, we can all go and fight beside you,” Briathos’ calm voice drifted through the atmosphere like a spring breeze. 

“And what, risk losing all of you?  No way.”  She did not leave room for further argument.  Her decision was final.   “I am finishing this with Darius.  One way or another, one of us will die this night, only one.”

Heads bobbed in solemn understanding and Briathos offered her a knowing look that, while she couldn’t be certain, she sw
ore bore traces of pride.  “Godspeed, my Arianna Rose,” he said, and a fat teardrop slid down his cheek. 

Arianna nodded in thanks then knelt beside Desmond.
Though she did not know whether he could hear her, in his ear, she whispered, “You have to make it. 
Please
.  The world needs you. 
I
need you.”

Desmond stirred slightly and her heart skipped a beat. 

“I love you,” he barely managed, his voice weak and thin. 

Pressing her cheek to his, she whispered, “I love you, too.” 

She rose to her feet and took a last look at the people before her, the family that had chosen her, not the family she’d been born to, and felt the world fade from sight.  Her body merged with the night, with the wind and sky, and she headed off to prevent the gates of hell from opening permanently.  She headed off to battle Darius in the final war for humankind.

Chapter 18

Leaden clouds advanced, assembling like a fleet of warships overhead and setting an ominous backdrop for the sprawling chateau in front of Arianna.  The sun had just risen, and already its light was being snuffed out, the sky awash with gloom.  Standing on uncultivated land that sat amid a forest of pines and cedars, she took in the grounds of the long-since abandoned palace.  Rows of trees, dried and lifeless, reached and stretched toward the skyline with stiff, skeletal limbs as a crisp breeze sliced through them, and brittle gray growth dotted what was once verdant, rolling grasses of the estate.  Sad and unremarkable, the property was of little consequence.  And neither were the soaring towers with razor-sharp spires that pierced the heavens and dominated the ornate façade of the structure.  Darius waited within the crumbling walls of chateau, the final portal not yet opened.  She was there to stop him from unleashing hell on Earth, and end his existence once and for all. 

Stealing with nimble step
s and silent feet, Arianna made her way up the gentle slope of the grounds to what looked like the main entrance.  Numbing wind unleashed a mournful bay, whistling and shrieking as it passed through trees and broken windows. 

Though a cold gust blew, heaviness filled the atmosphere, thick and sinister.  She swore that if she listened closely enough, she could hear the cries of death and destruction, of men, women and children losing their lives
. 

Along with the shrill cries in the air,
Desmond’s face continually flashed through her mind.  His injury was grave.  The possibility of losing him was real.  The sight of him prone and bleeding awakened the dark and ever-present companion she fought each time her power surged.  Her surroundings vacillated between being soaked in blood-red and glimmering with pristine clarity.  Insurmountable wrath clashed with a newer, less-familiar energy, the one she’d felt at Agnon’s lair and again during her last conflict with Darius. 

Her breathing became short and shallow, the two energies dueling for governance
.  Snippets of her life raced at her at warp speed.  Her mother’s face, Lily, Luke, and countless others flashed before her eyes as if projected on a film reel.  Briathos’ serene face appeared too.  He stood with his arms outstretched, white billowing robes floating around him.  His gaze was searching, challenging her to hear the message he wordlessly conveyed.  And then Desmond’s likeness arrived.  Beams spilled from the darkened skies, resplendent, glorious light that bathed him in their brilliance, highlighting every inch of his deific grace and beauty. 

In the moment that she saw
him, saw him for who and what he truly was, awareness of who and what she truly was gelled.  Though the revelation had already occurred, and not long ago, the true significance of it had been hard for her to grasp.  But now she understood it had been a test.  She had a choice.  She had a say in her destiny.  She could turn from darkness and seek the light. 

Realization
whirred through her blood, infusing it, enriching it as it teemed with virtue.

She’d come to the mansion before her to answer the call for vengeance
, for blood.  But neither solved the root problem.  Darius had to die, not because he’d killed those whom she’d loved, and not because he’d deceived her and swayed Dane to harm Desmond.  His existence needed to end so that humankind could continue, so that life on Earth could prevail. 

Purging her depths of hate and retaliation and replacing it instead with righteousness, the war inside her ceased, the darkness inside her faltered before collapsing for good. 

Awareness tingled across her skin as a rich, blue light glowed from within her, seeping from her skin and haloing her, surrounding her and sparkling like freshly fallen snow in sunlight.  With unprecedented strength, her energy rippled within her.  Arianna no longer felt as if her powers raged turbulently.  She was in complete control of them.  Her hammering heart rate slowed to normal, and her breathing regulated.  The time to fulfill her destiny was upon her.

Raising her arms, a current of energy tore from her and blasted against the door.  Wood exploded into splinters as they flew inward, into the vestibule of the chateau. 
She stepped over them and entered, her eyes sweeping over the immediate space, looking high and low for beings perched in wait. 

From the corner of her eye, she spied a
human shape, elevated and positioned at an advantage.  She whirled to face it, hands ready to launch a deadly stream of fire, when she realized the shape she’d seen was a statue carved of stone.  Its head had been partially destroyed and its eyes stared vacantly in a perpetual state of melancholy.