Lord of the Abyss

Flicking out its forked tongue, it licked at the air, its multifaceted eyes locked on her as if on a particularly tasty snack. It took every ounce of courage she had to allow Micah to lead her to the beast, the heat of which was a burn against her senses. Dropping her hand, Micah jumped onto the back of the creature, sword once more on his back but angled now. "Touch only me, Lily," he said, reaching down for her.



It wasn't easy, but he was strong, and he got her - and the supplies she carried - onto his lap without allowing any part of her to come into contact with the salamander. Curling up against him, she held on tight as he used one of his gauntleted and gloved hands to grip several of the thin, flexible spines that grew from the creature's scaly head. "Rise!"



With a bellow that belched flame, yellow and lethal, the salamander leaped into the air, its wings created by pure fire and thus unaffected by her father's curse of poison. Terror chilled the blood in her veins, made her teeth chatter, her chest twist to painful tightness.



The salamander continued to bellow with fiery breaths. "It's not happy," she managed to get out past the fear.



"It is an elemental creature. As with the wind, you cannot tame it." Angling his body to the left as the salamander banked away from a roiling spurt of sand that punched up from the ground, he tucked her impossibly closer. "It flies faster than I do. We'll reach the border in plenty of time."



It was, Lily knew, from that point on that their journey would become more difficult. Once they crossed the boundary between the realms, they would be in the kingdoms, but far from Elden. Covering the remaining distance on foot would take too long, so they'd have to find some other way, but that was a problem for another time. Right now, she had to focus on keeping her sanity.



Later, she would remember the hellish heat, the noxious scent of sulfur, but most of all, she would remember Micah's arm holding her, implacable and strong as steel, his body her haven. They flew for hours, over the glimmering sands, over the eerie marshlands filled with flickering lights and six-legged animals that loped and cackled, over the waving red grasses that hid the cunning predators with the sharp teeth, over the mountains of ice so cold a man without magic would freeze before taking a breath, until finally, they came to the rolling plains of verdant green.



The Great Divide lay on the other side.



Sweeping down, the salamander bellowed again, scorching the grasses to nothingness and burning the earth to black on landing. Alighting as quickly as possible, Liliana somehow managed to stay on her feet, though her legs were cramped, her muscles stiff. Heart in her throat, she fought not to scream for him to get away as Micah walked around to face the beast, so near that mouth that could easily belch flame. "I thank you, friend," he said, rubbing that huge scaly head with a gloved hand.



To Liliana's shock, the salamander dipped its head to the side, as if shy. Suddenly unable to bear her own cowardice, she forced her legs to move forward until she was close enough to look into one of those multifaceted eyes. "My thanks," she whispered, her voice hoarse.



Coming around to stand beside her, Micah said, "Fly home."



Wings of flame shot out on either side of the salamander and then it was ascending with a roar of yellow flame against the darkening sky. Tracking its blazing progress, she was forced to admit that it was a magnificent being - one that would forever scare her, that much she knew, but at least now the terror wouldn't debilitate.



"Come, Lily." Taking her hand in his, Micah led them to the very edge of the Great Divide.



A crossing such as this, she thought, must only exist in the Abyss and the Always. It offered passage to all of the realms, but the shimmering wall of magic could not be passed by most mortals. However, Micah, as the Guardian of the Abyss, had the right to cross it at will. "The ability is, I think," he'd said when she'd brought up the point, "a fail-safe lest one of the condemned manages to slip into another realm." Now, he touched his fingers to the rippling sparks of color, and it was as if the magic sighed in welcome. "Yes, this part of the crossing will take us to the kingdoms."



She came into the protection of his arms and he stepped through the barrier. The experience was... Like being kissed with magic, if such a thing was possible. Yet there was a subtle menace to the sensation - if she hadn't been held in Micah's arms, the shield would've repudiated her with wrenching violence.



"It's done."



Liliana saw that they were in a night-dark wood. "What is this place?"



"The path to a borderland village."



"Micah." She touched his left cheekbone - where he was now marked by the symbol of a sickle and a sword crossed. "The sign of the Abyss."



"To ensure no one forgets who it is who walks among them." He took her little pack. "Come - the screaming pines mark the village boundaries."



The trees lived up to their name as they approached, keening and wailing, their arms waving in agitation. As a result, the villagers beyond were waiting for them armed with scythes and pitchforks. A single look at Micah and they dropped their weapons, turning as pale as ghosts. A few ran. However, a sturdy man with a peg leg and a tremor along one side of his face walked forward. "My lord. Do you come for us?"



Micah put one gauntleted hand on the brave man's shoulder. "Your soul is not black. I seek the services of Esme."



A whispering sounded from the gathered villagers, but the shoulders of the man who'd spoken were suddenly set with pride. "She be my wife, then - I'm her George." A beaming smile. "Come with me, honored lord."



Liliana heard the words ugly and hook-nosed creature as she passed, and though it hurt, it was a hurt she could shrug off. Because Micah didn't think she was ugly even though he knew about beauty, had seen the stunning women in the village below the Black Castle. "You didn't tell me about any Esme," she whispered.



He angled his head to stare curiously at a fat tabby cat that watched them from beyond the bubbled windowpane of some prosperous tradesman's house. "I didn't know if the wind mage lived here still. Bard has been gone from this realm for many moons."



"A wind mage." Bard, I think I adore you.



"Here we are," their guide said at that moment, leading them to a small cottage surrounded by cheery blossoms closed up for the night. "Esme! We have guests! Put on the stew!"



Suddenly realizing how hungry she was, Liliana said nothing to counteract the man's order as they followed him inside - to come face-to-face with a round dumpling of a woman with red cheeks that turned white as soon as she glimpsed Micah. "Now look here," she said, though her voice shivered with terror, "I don't do no evil."



"Bard sent us," Micah said before Liliana could attempt to assuage the woman's fear.



Esme's mouth fell open. "Bard?" Collapsing into a chair, though the Lord of the Black Castle stood in front of her, she gaped. "I did save his life once and he promised to repay me, but to send the Guardian..."



Micah retrieved a velvet pouch from their pack of supplies. "Payment."



Esme watched as her husband opened the pouch to pour a tumble of rubies, emeralds and diamonds onto his palm. He, too, collapsed into a chair. Not waiting for an invitation, Micah took a seat, and so did Liliana.



"For this much wealth, my lord," Esme said in a quiet, worried voice while her husband ignored what was a king's ransom to close his hand over her own, "ye either want my soul or my life."



"Neither. Lily."



Aware of the couple looking at her with stark curiosity, this odd creature who walked with the dread lord, she said, "We need to reach the heart of the kingdom of Elden before midnight tomorrow. You speak to the winds?"



Esme swallowed. "I'm no powerful mage, milady. I can only whisper."



Her husband shook his head, pride in every sinew and tendon. "My Esme can get you halfway to that godforsaken kingdom - pardon my words, my lord, but that's the way it is - and from there, ye ask for two night-horses from her sister Emmy's husband." He paused. "Night-horses be temperamental."



"I'm sure we'll be fine." She knew the powerful animals would serve Micah, for he was as pure of heart as any creature of the land. As for her, oddly enough, most animals seemed to accept her, in spite of her tainted blood.



"Right, then." George rubbed his thumb over Esme's knuckles. "With the night-horses, you'll be in Elden proper by tomorrow eve, well before midnight."



Liliana nodded. "Thank you." Perhaps her actions in going to Micah had changed the future so events wouldn't come to pass as she'd foreseen, but she could not - would not - take that chance. Nothing would be certain - Micah's land, his siblings not safe - until her father was dead.



Not long afterward, having eaten a simple, hearty meal, they stood in the flickering shadow of a torch held by George as his rose-cheeked wife said, "If ye would stand closer to one another." She twisted her hands together. "Close as ye can. Otherwise, the wind might tear ye apart."



Micah wrapped his arms around her, strong as iron, as she slipped hers around his waist, his armor warm under her touch. Its presence confirmed her theory that the armor was created from his own innate magic. As such, it would protect him against her father - but not forever, for the Blood Sorcerer was a man malignant with the life force of innocents.



"Good journey, my lord and lady," Esme said, and lifted her hands.



Her face and that of her husband was obliterated by a tornado of wind an instant later, a tornado that ripped them from the earth and made them fly. If she hadn't been locked tight around Micah, she might well have been torn asunder in a spray of blood and flesh. As it was, she was aware of his body curving over her own in an effort to protect her from the punishing might of the wind.



Her Micah.



Strong.



Honorable.



Wonderful.



Liliana couldn't have said how long they traveled trapped within the windstorm, but she would've crumpled to her knees in the empty courtyard of what looked to be a small inn when the journey ended, had Micah not been standing solid as a stone wall beside her.