Walking out to the field, Tori found that she would have to work harder on the Brat than she had originally thought. Already the foolish girl was lifting her nose at the fighting sticks, her arms crossed and expression petulant as Talia, Melivian, and Dejan all took their own and began whipping them around in good fun.
"Grab a stick, Surreal," Tori said grimly, toeing up her own and snatching it out of the air. "It's time to start the warm-up."
The Brat gave her a disgusted look. "They're dirty. Other people have used them. They have sweat on them. That's gross."
Talia snickered, but stopped immediately under Tori's sharp glare. Satisfied, Tori returned her attention to the Brat and gave her a similar look. She went and picked up a stick.
Surreal groaned, hefting her burden into both hands. "Geez. Did you put weights on this?" She asked suspiciously.
This time Talia couldn't hold back her laughter. "It's wood, Surreal. It's supposed to be heavy!"
Surreal glared malevolently at Talia. "You left the heaviest one for me, didn't you?"
Talia arched a brow at her disbelievingly. "Actually, I have the heaviest. Here, catch."
Talia tossed the stick at Surreal, making the girl squeak and duck dramatically. Tori sighed, already feeling a headache coming one.
At least she threw it gently, Tori thought privately, grateful for the one small mercy.
"Did you see that?" The Brat screeched at Tori. "She threw it right at my head!"
"All I saw was you ducking cowardly out of the way of a gentle toss," Tori replied coldly. "Now, all of you, that's enough fooling around. Since you seem to have so much energy, you will join me on a five-mile jog. No!" She yelled at Surreal, who had thrown down her stick in relief. "From now until the end of our practice session, that stick doesn't leave your possession! Do I make myself perfectly clear?"
"Yessir!" Talia said, snapping to mock attention.
"That's two more miles for you, Talia," Tori said. "This is practice. I am your instructor. Remember that."
"Yes ma'am," Talia said, her shoulders slumping a little.
Tori looked at the motionless girls and growled. "Well, what are you just standing here for? Get a move on!"
The quartet of girls sighed and began their jog. Right from the beginning, Surreal started off wrong. Wanting to be in front of Talia and the others, she raced ahead while they paced themselves. Tori shook her head, keeping the young one in sight while bringing up the rear. It was going to be a long day.
An hour later, Dejan and Melivian panted to a halt back in the training area. Talia stopped beside them, looking a little winded, but perfectly fine. A few minutes later, Surreal came in, half jogging, half stumbling, with a frowning Tori right behind her.
"Now that the warm-ups finished," Tori said, going to stand by a group of padded poles. "Meet your new sparring partners." She paced as each of the children took their places in front of their respective 'partners'. "Hopefully," she began, glaring at Surreal as she stressed the word, "you will have become accustomed to your stick during the jog. If not, you will now." She said grimly. "I am going to take you, step by step, through the positions of defense and attack. You will copy the positions. You will memorize the positions."
Tori lifted her stick, facing her charges, and began. "Position one…"
An hour and a half later, Tori paused, seeing that even Talia was struggling a little bit to keep up. Glancing around, she saw a couple of heads whip back to their work. Only Daemonar, who was splitting wood as he had said, looked up long enough to smirk.
"Time for the cool down!" Tori snapped, amused as she watched her charges immediately stop their work, shoulder slumping in exhaustion. "I want three miles. Go!"
Surreal moaned, but grudgingly took off with the other three, wisely keeping pace with them this time. Tori watched them until they were out of sight before turning to stare sightlessly at the padded poles in the ground. She was pushing them hard. Perhaps a bit too hard. But with the upcoming threat, they all had to be prepared. For soon, 'Hell on Earth' won't just be a saying.
Especially for Talia and herself. Facing their father again…it was not going to be an easy task.
Talia, Melivian, Dejan, and Surreal all came panting in, obviously having pushed themselves in the last bit of the jog. Tori didn't even bother to turn around to greet them, still deep in her dark thoughts.
"Class is finished," she said shortly. "Stack your sticks to the side before you leave."
Everyone obeyed instantly, but Talia stayed behind, frowning worriedly as she watched how tense her sister had become.
"Tori?" Talia asked, touching her arm gently. "What's wrong? This isn't about the practice."
Tori sighed. "No, it's not."
"Is it about the picnic later?"
Tori hesitated before nodding shortly. "You know you can't expect me to welcome her with open arms, right?"
"I know." Talia pulled at her arm until she uncrossed them and turned with her to go inside. "I also know that this is a good place to start."
Tori sighed again, wondering how she let herself get into this mess. "We have a few hours before we have to leave. I'm going up to take a shower and work Craft for a while."
Talia nodded and watched her back as she left, her worried frown deepening. Something was very wrong with her sister. Had been wrong since the day they had arrived. She closed her eyes, sending a tight prayer to the Darkness that everything would turn out all right for the both of them. Life was just now coming together for them.
Upstairs, Tori paced the length of the floor, scowling deeply. She had hours yet before the picnic, and she had planned on going out to pick a fight with Lucivar, but somehow…
Tori sat down on her bed, leaning back against her headboard. For some reason, the pull of her Craft seemed much more important than a good, hard workout. Relaxing her guard almost completely, she stilled her mind and closed her eyes. There was the distinct feel of falling down.
Sliding through darkness that got darker and darker the further she went. Gradually she slowed, her descent into the Abyss complete. Almost. Tori looked below her. Where there should have been the solid web that marked the 'floor' of the Abyss, there was a glassy barrier, and below that, she could sense a power darker than the Black Jewel. Ebony. The barrier was thin, brittle. All it would take was just a gentle shove at it, but the shear depth of power worried her. Without the Ebony Jewel to harness and focus the power, she might tear herself apart. Shatter her chalice.
Pulling her thoughts away from that, Tori opened herself to the Dark, relaxing completely. All around her there was an urgent kind of pressure. Something was going to happen. Something bad. Soon.
Something to do with her father? Tori wondered, sending the thought out.
No. She determined, feeling, weighing the pressure. Something to do with the Darkness, yes. But not her father directly.
Tori stared around her in shock, noticing the silver, sparkling treads of a Dream Web all around her. Power hummed through the chords, stronger than even Witch. No mortal could do this, Tori thought distractedly, as she reached out in her Abyss, touching threads that glittered silver against the 'walls' of the Abyss. In most ways, it was like the normal Webs she made. But she didn't Weave this. No. She knew who had constructed it, but it took her longer than a minute to admit it to herself.
The Web was from the Darkness itself.
Something bad, the Abyss insisted. Death. Pain. Skeletal arms and rotting flesh. The rancid odor of decaying bodies.
Tori shivered, revulsion making her pull back a moment. The dead walking.
Demon dead, Tori thought.
No. The Dark-woven web insisted. Not demon dead. Unnatural. Unwanted. Must be stopped.
Tori nodded sharply. I'll keep my eyes open, she promised.
With that, the tense air around her faded, and the silver webs faded around her. Feeling her physical body being disturbed, Tori left the Abyss, grim. She needed to meet with Jaenelle. Witch needed to know.
Tori opened her eyes and looked at Talia blankly. "What do you want?" She asked, calling in a cup of water. Her throat was amazingly dry.
"It's time to go!" Talia exclaimed in a huff. "We've been waiting on you for fifteen minutes!"
Tori glanced at the clock that rested in the corner of her room. And, sure enough, it was two sixteen. Taking a breath to tell Talia she had to cancel, something made her pause. A feeling floated up to her from her Abyss. She was to go.
"Sorry," Tori apologized, slipping into her coat. "I got…distracted."
"You were in the Abyss," Talia stated, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "You don't withdraw that far into yourself unless there's going to be trouble. You've been acting funny since we got here, Tori. What's going on?"
"I'll tell you when we get back," Tori promised, coming into view of Lyra and the High Lord. "For now, lets just go to the picnic."
Looking far from pleased, Talia relented and the four of them left for the Landing Web. Despite herself, Tori shivered slightly before stepping onto the platform. It felt too much like tempting fate, she thought as they flew on the Black to their appointed destination, which Lyra had decided to keep secret. Tori watched carefully, the shadows that moved through the Darkness all around them. The shadows that kept pace with them until they reached the correct Landing Web.
The moment the stepped from the Web, Tori was hit with memories. She looked around the open field, small flashbacks changing perspective. Frowning a little as she tried to place it, Tori looked to her left, at the forest of trees. One in particular stood out brightly. It was a bright, shinning silver from trunk to the very last leaf. Memory hit her like a sledgehammer.
***Little Toriana, no more than four years old, laughed as she ran, jumped, and flipped through the grassy field. That day had been bright and warm, and she and her Mommy had decided to come out and eat a huge picnic beneath the Silver Birch.
Little Tori ran up to her mom, jumped, and grabbed hold of the closest silver branch, swinging up into the surprisingly soft leaves.
"Toriana!" Her mother gasped, leaping to her feet in fear. "Get down here this instant! That is a very powerful tree! You can't play on it!"
Little Tori's head popped out of the side as she looked quizzically down at her beloved mother. "But she said I could, Mama! She likes to have children playing in her branches!"
Calming down a little, Lyra looked at her little girl. "You can talk to her, Tori?"
Tori swung down until she sat on the very bottom branch, in full view of her mother. She made a back and forth motion with her hand. "Sort of. Trees speak differently that we do. Slower. And without words."
"Then how do know what they're saying?" Lyra asked, completely lost.
Tori shrugged, grinning. "Don't know. But it's easiest when the winds blows!" She looked hungrily at the basket, all thoughts about explaining her talent gone. "Hey, Mommy, what's for lunch? I'm starved!"***
Tori walked over to the Silver Birch and reached up to touch the smooth bark. She paused, mid-motion, curling her fingers into a tight ball and looking away. She had no right to touch the massive beauty known among the other Trees as Silvara. Silvara was for those pure of heart. Innocents. Tori had too much blood on her hands.
"What a pretty tree!" Talia said softly, running over to stand beside her.
"Yeah," Tori said softly. "She's beautiful."
Talia turned to Lyra. "Is this where we're setting up?" She asked eagerly.
Lyra smiled, nodding. "Yes, lovely." She looked up to Tori, who still stared silently at the giant tree. "Do you—"
"Yes." Tori said shortly. "I remember."
"Remember what?" Talia asked curiously.
When Tori said nothing, Lyra explained. "Tori and I used to come here when she was little. She always used to laugh and monkey-around in that silver tree there."
"Really? Can I climb in it?" Talia asked Tori.
"She loves children in her arms," Tori murmured quietly. Shaking her head sharply, Tori turned away. "Yeah, Talia. You can climb."
As she was about to step away, a sliver vine whispered across her cheek on an invisible wind. Out of habit, Tori opened her mind to Silvara, tilting her head slightly towards the branch.
A cold wind blown through the silver branches. Branches and leaves freeze.
Tori sighed, turning back to her childhood friend. Small breeze has grown into destructive gale. She sent back, sadness tingeing her wordless conversation.
A light, melodious tinkling sounded in her mind as a gentle breeze blew through Silvara's branches. Not destructive. Just bigger.
Talia gave a surprised yelp, springing back away from the tree, her eyes wide with shock. She stopped herself and floated in mid-air for a moment before turning to Tori.
"It talks!" She yelled.
Tori's amusement mixed with Silvara's as the tree's branches rustled. Talia glared at the tree, then at Tori.
"It's not funny!" She said, putting her hands on her hips. "How was I to know I was climbing on something sentient?"
Tori shrugged. "Now that you know, are you going to just hover there, or introduce yourself?"
"I will most likely regret this query," Saetan said, breaking into their conversation. "You can hear trees?"
"Why not?" Tori demanded, a bit defensively. "The Trees are just as good company as people. Sometimes better."
"I'll explain," Lyra said, coming between the two of them before a fight could break out. She led Saetan off to the side, leaving Tori and Talia with some privacy.
Tori walked over to stand beside Talia, and placed her hand on the smooth bark of Silvara. Wordlessly, she held out her other hand to her sister, forming a bridge between the two beings until Talia understood how to speak with Trees.
Refreshing young breeze that blows through branches, Silvara sent in warm approval. Her attention seemed to shift slightly to Tori. Similar to big breeze Tori.
Sister breeze, new to the Trees. Tori responded.
To her left, Tori could feel Talia working furiously to understand and follow the strange ebb and flow of their conversation. Tori waited, knowing she would figure it out soon enough. She was right.
Sister breeze Talia blows a light, gentle greeting, Talia sent shyly, glancing up into the branches.
Tori felt Silvara's deep amusement and surprise. Sister breeze Talia quick to grow into a wind. Fast to learn from big sister Tori.
Talia giggled and sprung into the branches, talking with Silvara as she swung from branch to branch. Tori leaned against the trunk, relaxing a bit as she listened to them. Then, while Talia was preoccupied with her mission to reach the very top branch, Silvara turned her attention to Tori.
Hard, cold winds tearing through the Trees from the north, she said grimly, purposefully keep Talia out of it. Foul winds that reek of carnage and death. The distant sounds of the war drum.
Tori swallowed, nodding slightly. War comes.
Strong gusts?
Very strong, Tori said grimly. Stronger than Witch.
Which is why big wind Tori came back. Help to blow away the creeping taint. Stop them from reaching the boundaries.
Do you know where the sounds of war drums come from? Tori demanded sharply, straightening.
The rancid winds blow from the closed territory. Silvara sent. The land that was once the Realm of Light. Little Terreille.
Tori nodded once, staring out into the distance grimly. She looked to the west, where she could sense the once great land. Terreille. It was in her dark reflections that she noticed a shifting in the air. The wind picked up, swaying the tops of the Trees and slapping against her in a sharp, cold burst.
Beside her, Silvara shuddered in disgust and panic. It's the winds! She cried. Can you smell it?
Tori swallowed the bile that rose in her throat thickly, pulling back the searching probes she had sent out against the tempest that was forming. Yes, she felt it. Smelled it. Fear tingled up her spine as she steeled herself and sent her mind out to the mass of the advancing army, touching the rotting, sickly minds once more. There were so many. Five, maybe six hundred…beings. People was the wrong word. Human or Kindred was definitely out, as well. What she felt…it wasn't natural.
*High Lord, * Tori snapped out with her mind, bringing Saetan and Lyra to her side almost immediately.
She took one look at them, and knew they had felt the creeping sickness on the land. Talia swung down from Silvara's branches to cling to Tori's side, shaking and looking rather pale. They all looked slightly green, but Lyra was the worst of them, making Saetan support almost all of her weight as she gazed sightlessly out into the unseen forces.
Tori grabbed Talia's arm, pulled her off, and shoved her at Saetan. "Take them back to the Keep, High Lord." She ordered, her voice firm and steady.
Saetan objected automatically. "I cannot leave you here alone to face them, Lady," he said, just as firmly.
Tori hissed at him. "Fool! Don't you understand?! They have breeched the barrier Jaenelle made to block Kaeleer off from Little Terreille! And she's not here! Which means she doesn't know! She must be informed!"
Still, Saetan remained stubborn. "I am a Warlord Prince—"
"Then do your duty!" Tori snapped, walking away from them and towards the heavy blanket of darkness that slid closer. "You defend and protect, correct? So protect them. Get them to SaDiablo Hall, inform the Queen, and then return here to help me, if I need it!"
Saetan gritted his teeth, caught between Protocol and a father's desire to protect his daughter. He sighed, knowing which would win out.
"Your will, Lady," the Steward of the Dark Court said, taking the two women to the Web.
Everything has a price, he repeated to himself. Only, please mother night, don't let it be the loss of another Queen…
Tori watched them until they were gone, flying off towards the Hall on the Black thread. Satisfied, she returned her attention to the real problem. She called in her fighting stick and the three Ebon-Gray Jewels she possessed; the necklace, the ring, and the uncut Gray. She used the ring to strengthen her innermost barrier. The very last one that protected her Self. Her chalice. The uncut Gray was sent into the sky to create an Ebon-Gray web-shield that would keep every last one of the enemies trapped, even if she was to be killed.
Looking at the Gray-Jeweled necklace hovering before her, Tori lifted her stick and used Craft to weave the necklace around it and pulled power from the same Jewel to weld it into place. She concentrated hard for a moment, gripping the far right side of it and holding it away from her.
Power spilled from the Jewel, washing over the blackened wood. Changing it. It began to twist and writhe in her grasp, and Tori frowned, holding on even more tightly. She closed her eyes, forcing the wild power of the Jewel into, through, around, the inanimate object.
Finally done, Tori relaxed her shoulders and opened her eyes to see her newly Crafted weapon. The stick, once a nice, long, smooth piece of black wood was now a bokken. The pommel, handle, and quillion were still the dark black wood, but the blade, curved and honed more finely than any sword ever crafted, was pure Ebon-Gray. The blade was the Jewel, and she could feel the power ready, just waiting for her command to shed blood.
Looking up again, Tori smiled grimly at the irony of it. Here was her childhood. The happy memories. The love that she was once able to feel. And it was here that she would spill every last drop of their blood. It was here that the first battle would be waged.
Her thoughts wee interrupted by movement coming up the hill to her left. Surprised that they would choose such a strategically inferior position to begin their assault from, she turned and watched them for a while. Soon, when they passed through the shadows of the forest and into the light of day, she wished she hadn't.
If she had thought she knew what to expect after she had lightly brushed the very outer edges of the sickness that walked through the lands, she was very, very mistaken. Just the sight of them, walking towards her, was enough to send her stomach into a revolt.
A memory flashed through her mind. A memory of the world she grew up in. One night, she and Talia had rented 'Night of the Living Dead', just for amusement.
It wasn't amusing now. Now, as she watched the sick, macabre advance of the corpses, she had to force down the bile. Some walked easily enough. But others… Some stumbled, dragging a uselessly broken leg along with them. Others with various injuries seemed not to notice the pain, if they even felt any.
She saw one man, big, strong looking, walking towards her, limping a little. When Tori looked down at his foot, she saw that his ankle was broken enough that his entire foot laid on its side, the skin still holding it to the body. She watched, almost entranced, as the man took a step, lifted the broken ankle, and stepped down. His foot slid to the side and the rest of his leg touched the ground, making him limp slightly.
Everywhere she looked it was like a different freak-show. One man had half of his face completely burned away. The right side of his skull caught the sun's rays, and the red, puss-ball that was to be his eye seeped blood and green fluids.
But it wasn't entirely their horrifying physiques that churned her stomach. It was the intelligence. The spark of Self in the midst of the pools of agony and torment that showed her they weren't willingly doing this.
Taking a deep breath, Tori forced herself to concentrate on the battle at hand as they all came closer, passing through her Gray shield. Deep breaths were not a good idea, she discovered. The air was thick with the musky, rotting smell of century-old corpses. Still, she focused on her enemy, and began to study them, looking for the weaknesses, blocking out the fact that they were all innocents.
They would pose no very big problem, she thought bitterly, moving away from the Trees to have more room to maneuver, if only they weren't all armed. And from the way most of them held their chosen weapons, they were all masters with them.
Switching her hold on the Crafted bokken, Tori held out her free right hand and called in her globe that contained her Witch lightening. Glancing back up at the army, she waited tensely. Only about half were in there, and she wanted to kill as many as she could from a safe distance before diving in with her sword and Blood Webs.
Tori narrowed her eyes as they drew even closer to her. Now only ten feet separated her from the first wave of attackers. Now, she thought. And opened a hole in the containment globe.
Lightening poured from her hand as Tori held it out to the men, trying to channel the rushing blaze to hit only the undead monsters. The ones just in front of her were incinerated completely in less than a second. The ones behind them, however, weren't so lucky. She watched them burst into flames and listened as they began to scream.
By the time she closed the globe, half of the troops were either dead (again) or thrashing on the ground, about to die. Now the smell of charred flesh was added to the air, and Tori once again did battle with her own stomach.
Vanishing the Witch lightening, Tori gripped her bokken, and pushed power into the blade. The blade flashed brightly and little sparks arched off of it and it began a steady glow. Gathering her strength, Tori slid into the ready stance, and watched as they began to come at her again, recovering a little too quickly for Tori's peace of mind. Of course, after this, her mind would never have peace again.
Taking a deep breath, regardless of the less than appealing aroma, she exhaled in a huff, clearing her mind and drawing on her training to steady her thoughts. When she looked back up at the men, she lifted her sword, leapt into the air, and disappeared. Only to reappear right in front of them, her bokken coming down from it's arch.
In the heat of the battle, Tori lost herself. All she knew was the satisfactory feel of her Jeweled blade slicing through the rotting, fetid corpses. The victory in seeing them fall at her feet in pieces. The war drums sounded loud in her ears, heart, and blood.
But, she was only Human, and as such, her energy gradually ran out as she almost emptied her Jewels. Tori resorted to calling in the Blood Webs and laying traps for them. Burnt flesh and screams once again filled the air inside the shield.
Looking around, Tori only saw a few scattered men, who were now trying to escape from her, throwing their Jewel power into shattering her shield. She smiled tiredly, and lunged for them, cutting them down.
Finally, everything was silent.
Tori collapsed in relief, completely and utterly drained. Her uncut Jewel fell from the sky, her shield dissolving. Everything hurt. Her arm had been slashed sometime during the fight, and it pounded mercilessly. Her skull throbbed with the backlash of using too much of her strength in Jewels.
Pushing herself up from the masses of bodies and gore, Tori half crawled, half stumbled out of the ring. She couldn't lift her eyelids to see where she was going, but could feel it when he hands didn't squish on the blood and gore-caked grass. She managed to get a few more feet before collapsing completely.
For a while, she was content to lie there, sucking in lungful after lungful of the sweet, fresh air and regain a little bit of her lost vitality. Then a thought occurred to her that made her push herself up on her elbows, shaking uncontrollably. Now that it was over, Saetan would most assuredly come looking for her.
Sniffing the air, Tori could smell the fresh water not too far, and remembered that there had been a stream. Now that she could think without the threat of it tearing a hole in her head, she was almost desperate to wash away what she could. Rid herself of the layers of filth that coated her face and body.
Five tiring minutes later, Tori's arms gave out next to the stream and she could do nothing more for the next ten minutes than lay there, recovering. She knew she was doing more damage to herself by moving around. Knew that she should just stay in one place until someone came to find her –if they came, the cynical part of her countered. They might not even care enough to bother.
Once Tori thought her body could take the abuse, she leaned over and began the doubly painful task of cleaning away the battle. For thirty minutes, the river ran red.
More or less clean, Tori propped herself on her elbow and leaned over to stare at her reflection. She was feeling a little bit stronger now, and was almost certain she could stand.
Looking at her face, she grimaced. Her skin, usually lightly tanned, was pale and drawn so tightly against her bones that it looked as if any movement would shatter the mask called flesh. She knew, from the wash, that her entire body looked as such. She was, quite literally, skin and bones. If the boyos saw her like this, they would never let her step foot outside the Hall again.
Taking a deep breath and steeling herself, Tori called in the biggest coat she had, biting her lip against the onslaught of pain. The coat landed next to her with a soft thump. It took her several tries, but finally, Tori was vertical and fully hidden inside the coat. She let her hair fall in a black curtain, shielding her face from the public.
Her first steps were small, uncertain, and wobbly. Tori, had she the energy, would have scowled at feeling like a child again. But soon she was walking, or rather lurching since she couldn't seem to keep her balance, towards the Landing Web.
She was almost there when her foot hit something wooden, and she looked down to see her fighting stick, back in it's original form, lying there. Tori reached down slowly, cautiously, and lifted it, worried. Had she somehow shattered the Gray? Was that why it had reverted when the change was supposed to have been permanent?
No, she discovered. The Jewel, no longer being actively used, had returned to the semi-dormant sleep that all Jewels maintain. In doing that, the sword reverted to the staff, but retained the ability to change when the need arose.
Tori leaned gratefully against it, making her way to the Web much easier. Standing amidst the swirling colors, she chose the lightest, White. Not having the strength to ride any other.
It seemed to take an eternity, but finally she felt solid ground under her feet again and straightened up, putting on an air of self-confidence and strength so that anyone glancing at her would see she was fine.
Tori walked slowly towards the stairs that lead inside SaDiablo Hall, acting casual and bored, all the while clinging desperately to her stick and praying to the Darkness that her legs wouldn't give out.
Upon reaching the top, Tori wanted more than anything to rest. To just sit there, catch her breath, and possibly pass out completely. Since every one of those options would attract immediate male attention, she pushed open the surprisingly heavy doors and stepped inside.
"Where in all the Realms have you been?!" Lucia growled, pouncing on her the moment she entered the reception hall.
Mother Night, Tori prayed. Not her…Please, don't make me deal with her…
"You totally blew off practice," Lucia continued to rave, following Tori as she made her way into the nearest sitting room. "Lyra and Talia came back hours ago! Uncle Saetan called a meeting for the First Circle, and we are all out in the dark!"
Tori managed a cynical wheeze. In the dark, Lucia? She thought to herself. No. I was in the Dark. I was there when it flowed over the land, leaving blood-soaked grass in its wake.
"What's—"
Lucia's frustrated question was cut short when Lucifer, followed by Daemonar, barged into the room. Tori continued to stare sightlessly at the coffee table, keeping her face well hidden.
"Jaenelle wants to see Tori in the Throne Room," Lucifer announced grimly.
"What!" Lucia exclaimed. "That's where Saetan called the meeting! What is going on?!"
Tori stood slowly, gripping her staff beneath the coat tightly. She took a careful breath and prayed her voice didn't sound as bad as she felt.
"Why don't you come and find out," Tori said quietly as she left.
"Jaenelle said we couldn't," Lucia said bitterly, following her.
Tori managed a dismissing shrug. "I'm inviting you. All of you."
"Why?" Daemonar demanded from her right. "What has happened?"
They had reached the Throne Room by now, and Tori could only say one thing.
"War."
Then they were walking in. Tori took everything in with a glance, since there wasn't much to see. A long black marble table stood in the center of the room, everything else having been shoved to the side. Jaenelle headed the table, with Daemon on her right, and Saetan on her left. Lucivar, Karla, Morghann, Gabrielle, Kalush, Chaosti, and everyone of the First Circle sat in their Protocol-dictated seats.
Lucivar, his jaw set angrily when he saw Tori's entourage, rose from his seat with deadly calm. "You are not supposed to be here," he stated in a perfectly controlled voice to Daemonar.
"I invited them along," Tori said, still unable to gather the strength to speak above a whisper. Fortunately, Lucivar heard. "It involves them. It involves everyone."
Jaenelle nodded reluctantly, frowning deeply at Tori. "Yes. I had hoped… But it seems the situation is more grave than even I have foreseen. Sit down, Toriana. You shouldn't be standing."
Tori slid gratefully in the chair directly across from Jaenelle. The other head of the table. Daemonar took her right, Lucifer on her left, and Lucia beside him. Tori hid her shaking hands in her lap, and leaned back against the back of the chair.
"Now that Tori is here," Jaenelle said, standing. "We have a problem."
Tori gave a soft, harsh laugh. "A problem. Mother night, how I wish it were only a problem."
Jaenelle sighed, nodding reluctantly. "I don't have the time to make this sound nice." She paused, looked down momentarily before meeting each of their gazes. "Kaeleer is once again at war." She said simply.
Their reaction was immediate, and Tori winced as their emotions pounded away at her. She was defenseless, not having the strength to erect even a smokescreen barrier between her and them. Beside her Daemonar scowled at her, trying to see through her hair to determine the cause of her wince.
"Quiet," Witch spoke softly. Silence filled the room. "It's worse this time. This time, we aren't fighting Terreille. We are fighting the Darkness."
"H-How is that possible?" Karla whispered, as visibly shaken as the rest. "The Darkness…It is a neutral place, isn't it? A place where you go to rest."
Jaenelle nodded staring down the table at Tori. "But somehow, something happened. Evil took hold of it. Twisted it."
"Then we'll fight!" Chaosti said fiercely.
"You don't have the stomach for it," Tori spat contemptuously.
Chaosti spun around to glare at her. "What would you know about our newest enemy?" He growled.
"More than you could ever dream of," Tori whispered.
"There was an attack today," Saetan revealed, glancing up to his Queen momentarily. "Talia, Tori, Lyra, and I were all out by the Silver Birch. When they first arrived, you couldn't see them, but there was a…smell in the air. Like rancid meat. And a pressure." He shook his head slightly. "I was ordered to get Talia and Lyra back here and warn Jaenelle." He finished in almost a whisper. "Tori stayed to fight."
"And?" Karla demanded, looking to Tori. "Who were they? What did they look like?"
"They were…" Tori searched her mind for words to accurately describe the horror and vile creatures that were also fellow Humans. "The dead walking," she finished lamely.
"The dead walk all the time!" Chaosti cried, gesturing to Saetan. "What is so bad—"
Tori looked up at him, letting her hair fall away from her face, revealing her skin-covered bones. "They were dead," she whispered, "but their eyes glimmered with Self. They were unwilling soldiers."
Karla had gone very pale by now. "Wh-What happened to them?"
Tori looked at Karla. "I slaughtered them all."
"How many?" Daemonar growled, his eyes flashing with fury.
Tori eased back away from him a little, the painful knowledge that she could in no way defend herself from any attacks he might make against her. "I don't know," she said truthfully. "Five, maybe six. Hundred." She said reluctantly.
Daemonar stood abruptly, his golden eyes burning brightly. There was a sort of awed silence around the table, but Tori wasn't paying attention to them. Her main concern was Daemonar's next move. She had a very limited amount of power left in her Jewels, so if he attacked…
"Get up," he snarled, reaching over to grab her arms in a surprisingly gentle grip for someone so angry.
Tori refused to move. "There are more important things here, Daemonar," she stated. "I need to explain…"
She trailed off under the look he was giving her. Quite suddenly, Tori wasn't so sure it was her he was furious with. She glanced over at Jaenelle, but it was Daemon's poorly hidden amusement that snagged her attention. Something was going on here that she wasn't privy to. Something very male.
"You are going upstairs," Daemonar told her, lifting her from her chair easily. "You are going to sleep. You are going to obey your appointed Healer. Then you may continue this conversation."
Tori blinked, confused at how she wound up comfortably supported in his arms. She winced as his hand closed over her wounded arm. "Do I get a say in this?"
"No."
Tori scowled at Daemonar. "This is war, Daemonar. I think them knowing about the troops, their base of operations, and who's leading them is more important right now than—"
"Shows what you know," Lucivar scoffed. He nodded to Daemonar. "This can wait."
"It can wait!" Tori growled hoarsely. "Jaenelle, will you listen to reason? They can breech the boundaries!"
Jaenelle's lips quirked in an almost smile. "Tori," she said gently. "It won't take very long. A day at most. And from what you've said, they're going to need that time to recover, too. We will talk tomorrow."
Tori swallowed, closing her eyes as a wave of dizziness swept over her. You don't understand, Jaenelle, she thought. That wasn't a significant portion of their army. That was a patrol.
*Have patience, Tori, * Jaenelle sent quietly as Tori was carried from the room. *Regardless of the number, they will take a slight break. *
Now is the time to counterattack, Tori thought, not even able to send her thoughts to Jaenelle. They wouldn't be expecting it.
*Perhaps they wouldn't be, * Jaenelle conceded. *We will never find out, though. *
Tori sighed heavily, leaning against Daemonar unconsciously. At least…put up…containment…web…Tori yawned, her thoughts scattering under the heavy pull of sleep.
*You can explain it tomorrow, * Jaenelle promised. *Rest. *
Tori murmured something, not even noticing that they had arrived in her room, and Kaelin was pacing nervously by the bed as Daemonar tuck her in. She yielded, finally, to her body's demands, and slid deeply into the blissful darkness that folded around her comfortingly. She slipped further away from the hurts of her body, descending gradually into the Abyss, taking comfort in the cool protection.