Boone Brux - Chain of Illusions

A tingle of heat trickled across the skin where the woman touched, soothing Rell’s alarm like a comforting balm. Letting her snarl slipped away, she inhaled and breathed out her resistance to the request of being bound. “Siban may bind me.”

The healer looked at him and he gave a single nod. Before stepping away, Meran reached under the table and brought up three, thick leather straps, one at Rell’s chest, one at her hips, and the last at her ankle. Siban mimicked her, producing the same straps on the opposite side of the slab, where he stood.

As he secured the first set of straps across her chest, Rell’s anxiety resurfaced. Though she could still move her arms from the elbow down, the tight binding immobilized her upper arms and chest.

A wave of terror gripped her mind when Siban tugged on the second set of straps, drawing her hips and forearms firmly against the table. She kept her breathing steady and stared at the dark rafters of the ceiling. The wind buffeted the front door, pounding it in a steady beat—matching her heart.

Slowly turning her head, she looked at her mother. Willa’s clutched hands were fisted against her lips, her eyes trained on her daughter. She lowered her hands and mouthed, “I love you.”

The straps pulled tight around Rell’s ankles, but she didn’t look away from the woman, so desperately needing the reassurance only her mother could give. Everything would be all right. It had to be. For the first time since being turned into a demon, Rell truly wanted to live.

Half the Bringers moved forward to form an arc around the left side of the table on which Esmeralda’s body lay and the other half did the same to Rell’s right, creating a complete circle around the two tables. They joined hands. The deep voice of the Bringer King began a low, melodic chant. Rell’s eyes slid shut, and she focused on the beautiful words, trying to relax. The unknown was sometimes the hardest to endure, but soon the healing would be over.

The smooth alto voice of the Bringer standing at Rell’s head joined the king’s chant, harmonizing. Tremors rippled along Rell’s muscles and her body gave a single jerk. One at a time each Bringer joined the chant, their voices traveling around the circle and merging until Rell was surrounded by the song.

Tightness formed in her chest and squeezed, the sensation quickly crossing from discomfort to pain. Rell’s eyelids popped open and she gasped. Air trickled in and out of her with each labored breath she attempted. It felt as if a giant snake slithered through her organs and vessels inside her body. Rell struggled to keep control and not cry out when the blackness glided up her neck and behind her eyes, attempting to steal her sight.

The oppressive presence sifted through her mind, taunting Rell for her foolish belief that the Bringers would be her salvation. She tried to block out the mocking darkness but could feel her will weakening. A whimper slipped between her tightly pressed lips.

The sizzle of burning herbs hissed to the right of her head and the scent of sage enveloped her. Wind hammered the door against the wood frame, its howl filtering through the cracks with a mournful wail.

Still the Bringers continued, relentless with the healing song that caused the Bane presence to roil inside her. The shadowy manifestation filled her head, attempting to block out the words of salvation from her mind. The chant grew muffled and the words that she was desperately trying to hold onto faded to an indistinguishable drone. With nothing for Rell to focus on, the loneliness her sister had battled so hard to keep at bay slipped forward. The darkness inside Rell slithered around the part of her soul that was still good—the part that still wanted a human life—and tightened.

A chill invaded her body. Driving so deep it felt as if it was buried in her bones. She shivered. A wave of hopelessness swamped her. A cry pushed from Rell’s lips. She was unable to control the anguish coursing through her. She would not make it through the transition from demon to human. Nothing could possibly win against the all-encompassing bleakness.

Her body shook violently, as if wanting to levitate from the wooden platform she lay on. Helpless to aid those who called to her, centuries of souls bound by the same darkness tried to lay claim to her eternal soul. Tormented screams erupted in Rell’s mind. The cries of dark souls screeching to be set free shoved Rell toward the brink of insanity.

Just when she thought all was lost, warmth registered against Rell’s thighs and shoulders. Like grasping for a branch while being swept along a cold, raging river, she focused on the spreading heat, drawing strength from its power. Feminine voices broke past the screams and the dark barrier, reaching for her soul. One voice rose above the rest—Ravyn. With a chant ancient and powerful, she burned a trail through the blackness, lighting a way for the others.

In Rell’s mind, a spiral of fire ignited the Demon Bane’s hold on her and blazed a path down the coiling snake that imprisoned her. The beast writhed and squeezed tighter, unwilling to release Rell’s soul. The table on which she lay began to shake, beating violently against the ground. Though strapped to the table, her body trembled against the force of each punishing strike. A new presence attacked the dense blackness and pelted it with white light. The snake screamed. Its rage lashed out like a barbed whip.

A third figure appeared, walking through the turmoil to where Rell’s soul lay helplessly restrained within the coils of her black prison. Golden threads spiraled from the third Bringer. Each thread wove its way between the coils of the snake and wrapped around Rell. Warmth and loved filled her.

The Bringer’s glowing touch cleared the doubt and chaos from Rell’s mind. She directed her soul toward the light and latched on. The black snake yanked, turning the battle between dark and light into a tug-of-war. Again the two other Bringers attacked, pummeling the snake with fire and white light. Its hold loosened. The golden tendrils heaved one final time and dragged Rell’s soul from the Bane body.

Silence enveloped her. The sound of the wind beating at the door and the chanting was no more. Rell floated toward the ceiling and hovered above her demon form, which now lay lifeless. Three golden ropes wound around her thighs and neck. The lines connected Rell’s soul to the three Bringer women standing below her.

Now free of the demon, the darkness’s hold vanished. A sensation of freedom overtook her. There was no more pain, no sadness, no regret. She wanted to stay like this forever.

The three women skirted the large table, where Rell had laid in her demon form, and moved toward her human body. She glided with them until she hovered above her small human form. The urge to yank free from the golden ropes seized Rell. There would be discomfort and weakness once she was human again. Only Siban’s hopeful face weakened her resistance. The freedom her battle-weary soul was experiencing would have to wait until it was her time to pass through the Veil. This was not the day.

With a different chant, the women slowly lowered her soul until it hovered mere inches above Esmeralda. Six more Bringers stepped forward and laid their hands on the motionless flesh of her human body. A new heaviness moved along Rell’s soul, pressing her down—down—down.

Blackness encompassed her. The chant from a single Bringer woman filled her ears. Rell didn’t understand the words, but they welcomed her. Though bereft of her soul’s lost freedom, the chant ignited hope inside her. Had she made it?

The singing dimmed and finally stopped. A firm hand pressed against her forehead.

“Rell?” Whether from the woman’s voice or the touch during their battle to free her soul, she recognized the Bringer who had possessed the golden tendrils that saved her. “Can you hear me?”