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161 pages

English

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A human and a vampire, challenging the most powerful beings in the Universe.Nothing could have prepared Lyra and Dorian for the Higher Plane - of for the betrayal that brought them here. In this strange place, not even gravity, time, or their own bodies work the way they're used to.Will Lyra and Dorian's love be able to hold them together?Or will it become the evidence that damns them?Continue the journey in DARKBIRTH.

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Publié par	Distributed by eBookpartnership
Date de parution	01 juillet 2022
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9798627897691
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	2 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0000€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Copyright © 2020
Hot Pancakes Ltd
www.hotpcakes.com
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
CHAPTER ONE

T his couldn’t be happening. And yet here we were, in a misty void, surrounded by glowing orbs and strange humanoid figures who had challenged Gate Maker to admit his transgressions and renounce his hubris.
Whatever that meant.
This must be the Higher Plane, the home Gate Maker had spoken of, though it was nothing like I’d imagined. And all these creatures were just like Gate Maker. Dorian’s hand found mine as we scrambled to our feet. All around us, the gray stretched endlessly, and my lungs squeezed. The lack of any horizon or landmark brought on a hopeless sensation of disorientation. The completely flat land stretched on forever until it was obscured by a curiously reflective yellowish haze. Only, there was nothing to reflect, creating a queasy effect. There was no visible change, horizon, or differentiation between land and sky. What exactly was this Higher Plane?
I glared at Gate Maker, who only moments before had been addressed as Ruk, wondering what the hell was going on. What debt were these glowing orbs talking about?
Dorian squeezed my hand, face tense, body language indicating he was in fight-or-flight mode. Our tentative ally, now a red orb rather than any of the previous forms he had taken in the time we’d known him, faced the strange beings without a second glance at us. In fact, none of the humanoid figures looked at us.
Searching for the logic in the situation, I scanned my surroundings. The temperature was perfectly average with no humidity or dryness or cold. The silvery ground beneath our feet felt solid but not in a definable way; it didn’t feel like dirt or concrete or anything I knew. There were apparently no guards or barriers stopping us from leaving, but… where could we go in this empty void? Was there even a threat right now? I observed the glowing orbs, watching where they floated like giant hazy fireflies. I had no way of telling what powers they had. Perhaps, like Gate Maker, they had the ability to shift into various forms-everything from giant reptiles and horned goblins to reasonably human shapes and smaller snakes. I frowned at Gate Maker, who currently remained as a red ball. Why wasn’t he using any of the forms we’d seen him use before, especially when there were other similar humanoids in the group in front of us?
The humanoid figures were honestly more unsettling than the orbs and their eerie, discordant voices. They wore plain robes, but the clothes failed to hide their strange bodies. They were entirely hairless, with a few exceptions. When they narrowed their gazes at Gate Maker’s glowing form, the movement accentuated their lack of eyelashes and brows. Emotions would be hard to gauge from these creatures. I tried not to raise my eyebrows at their noses, which didn’t protrude and were more like slits in the skin. My skin crawled when I studied the hands of one and saw that she had no fingernails, only fleshy nubs.
Most of the humanoids wore robes of a gray, billowing fabric similar to those Gate Maker wore before we left the Immortal Plane. Some, like the tall figure who had the additional blue robes, had intricate hairstyles-in his case complex braids in his white hair. My hands became tired thinking about the complicated artistry required to produce such a style. If he were here, Juneau would be furiously scrawling notes, his designer’s brain mesmerized by the detail. I tried to imagine what would stand out to Juneau, to see if I could scan for hints about these creatures and what they considered essential and stylish. There was a gold thread embroidered on the edges of the more elaborate robes that appeared to shift like the dancing flames of golden fire. For a millisecond, I worried the figures might notice my intense gaze on them, but they were completely uninterested in my and Dorian’s presence.
The closer I studied the group, the more their bodies looked like paintings done by an artist who’d tried their best but wasn’t precisely sure what humans looked like. The bodies were close to right, but not quite there, the proportions subtly wrong. For a moment, Sempre’s horrific reconstructed form came to mind, but these inhabitants of the Higher Plane were different, almost beautiful in a disconcerting way.
“He thinks himself brave,” someone whispered from the back. Or was it the front?
Words came from floating light balls, but it was like their speech consisted of breathy vibrations through the air that left a bodiless echo that was kind of chilling. The voices, and sound in general, traveled even more oddly here than it did in the Immortal Plane. Sounds buzzed in my ears, my eardrums vibrating in confusion as I struggled to adjust. It was so unlike the sound of the chaotic battlefield that I almost missed the solid clash of swords against armor that we’d left behind.
Dorian’s fingers skirted the inside of my wrist, a blissful reminder he was here with me. I was grateful for the grounding sign that I wasn’t dreaming. This was real. We were together in an entirely different plane, unknown to humans, vampires, and other Immortals alike.
It seemed that while Gate Maker had refused to talk about his home much, the existence of another plane was definitely real. It was also evident that he was not well-liked among his peers. Why?
Dorian took a purposeful step forward. It wasn’t like anyone was planning to invite us into the conversation. At least I didn’t perceive any immediate danger coming from these beings; they didn’t seem to be threatening us. Gate Maker, however, was another story. The orbs brightened and dimmed, making short, darting motions of agitation. They’d surrounded Gate Maker, closing in as slowly but inevitably as a python. Dorian took another step. I wasn’t sure if that was wise, so I held back and watched, prepared to leap into action if any of them turned on Dorian.
“Excuse me,” Dorian said, his tone even and polite. “What exactly is going on, and what are we doing here?”
Dorian was right: we needed more information. Most importantly, we needed to know what Gate Maker had done to upset the other inhabitants of the Higher Plane, but I was eager to learn everything about this Higher Plane, like who had made these beings, why they were in this plane, and what powers they had. If they were anything like Gate Maker, it wasn’t unrealistic to assume these beings had immense power. My stomach clenched in preparation for any action that might threaten us. I mentally calculated how long it would take for me to draw my pistol- assuming it would work in this strange new place-trapped between wanting to be ready for anything and not wanting to escalate the situation.
Gate Maker said nothing. He’d told us that he was going to send us back through a portal to the training grounds once he’d drawn the energy he needed from us, but this welcoming committee was clearly not planned. We’d basically abandoned the entire Coalition, left our friends and allies, to come on this quest. What had gone wrong for Gate Maker to have dragged us here, to the Higher Plane, instead of sending us back? And why exactly were they all against him? It seemed unfair. This was supposed to be his home. I bit my lip as doubt seeped into me. This had to be a mistake. Unless…
The voices didn’t acknowledge Dorian’s question, focusing all their attention on Gate Maker. Even the humanoid figures who possessed eyes didn’t so much as glance at us. I shot a curious look at Dorian, and he returned the gesture with a questioning frown.
“How did you get back through the barrier?” the figure with white braids demanded sharply.
“It was supposed to be impassible after the Separation,” one ball of light hummed in a three-part melody.
My brows knit together. If the barrier to this plane was meant to be impassable, how had Gate Maker brought us here? And what was the Separation? The beings continued their arguing. The strange echoes grew more accusatory and charged. Almost literally. I rubbed my arm as every hair on my body stood to attention as if drawn by static. Everything about this place felt so wrong.
Since nobody had yet paid attention to us, I leaned toward Dorian. “Do you think ‘Ruk’ is his actual name?”
Dorian sighed. “I have no clue. Whatever he’s called, they’re ripping into him. I’d like to voice an opinion, but that won’t help things. Mainly because no one seems to care that we’re here.”
I hummed quietly in agreement. The commotion Gate Maker’s entrance had caused was obvious. The voices congregated around his red form, which flickered with an ebb and flow. It was as if the explosive comments from his peers were pummeling his life energy.
“Have sixteen hundred years of being displaced wrought any change on your habit of making poor choices?” A disembodied voice floated up.
Another voice joined in, coming from one of the lights in the back, if my perception of distance was trustworthy. “This was awfully inconvenient of you.”
“What we do with you now that you have returned is the real question,” a small humanoid mused aloud. She stroked her pointed chin with stubby fingers that bent as if there weren’t bones inside. Her glimmering black eyes slid to the side to regard the silver-haired man. “Un, has it really been so long in the Immortal Plane?”
Un sighed haughtily. “It has.”
“Are you here to beg forgiveness?” cried a different light. “You must fix your mistakes and repay your debt. The chaos you caused-”
“Unforgivable,” another orb cut in with a voice like vibrating glass. “Staying with those so-called Immortals brought nothing but harm in the end.”
A lanky humanoid who stood near Un, with the shiniest of bald heads, sniffed. “Has Ruk’