The Immortals Series: Books 1-3 : ~A Sword and Sorcery Fantasy Omnibus by Cheryl S. Mackey

Author:Cheryl S. Mackey [Mackey, Cheryl S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-02-13T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Three

“I never knew you had it in you.” Rodon chuckled. Blackened teeth slid into a cruel sneer. Sparks arced from the doomed Windwalker’s splayed wings and travelled across the wavering dome. Time hitched, resumed, and refroze as Atil’s control faded with each passing second. Rodon’s shadow crept closer with each lapse of time, until he loomed over the dying Immortal in his true form.

“I know you don’t remember everything.” Atil exhaled the words from nearly immobile lips. Empty eye sockets, voids of shadow in the crackle of lightning and time, stared back. “I had hope.”

“Hope is for the weak. You should know this well, old friend.”

“You are no friend. You have not changed.” Atil grimaced. Lightning arced. A burn split his thin face, ripping a welt beneath one cheekbone and drawing blood. “You are dooming us all to repeat the past because you do not remember.”

“You know an awful lot for a blind Windwalker,” Rodon said. His blackened lips curled and his form wavered between shadow and man until he solidified before the splayed figure. “Just what do you think I have forgotten, Atil?”

“Who they are. Who is here. They have been waiting,” Atil whispered. “They will remember.”

Rodon’s sneer melded shadow with shape. “I don’t need all my memories to know what I have to do. They will die and I will take what I have wanted for so long.”

“Just what is it you want so badly, Dro-Aconi?”

“What will give me my revenge. The Crown of Gods.”

Atil’s ravaged face turned into a mask of sorrow. He saw all too well in a world of pure darkness.

“You will never have it then.”

Rodon lunged for the Windwalker. He collided with the time field. Thunder cracked as energy branches forked along the shimmering dome. Atil didn’t flinch when putrid teeth gleamed and darkness swirled in dark pools of triumph.

“What do you know? Tell me!” Rodon demanded. Inky spittle smeared his jaw line and dribbled. “It’s those four immortals. I’ve watched. I’ve waited. They must be who…”

“When they remember you will regret everything.” Blood trickled from the corner of his lips. His blind gaze leveled on Rodon, the triumph in the empty eye sockets unnerving.

Rodon reared back. He shivered in disgust as the last Windwalker spoke again.

“She was tasked with repairing a world torn asunder by you. She will defeat you in the end–they all will.”

“No!” Rodon growled. “They know nothing!”

Sparks raced along the shimmering dome. Atil hissed. A grimace split the raw burn on his face. Fresh blood slid in a slow, stuttering path down his leathery skin. The dome crackled. The air sizzled.

The stench of burning feathers turned Rodon’s lips up in a blackened grin. He surveyed them, splayed wide and charred against the nearly invisible energy shield. Easily twenty feet across each, they had been impressive even to him. Once. Long ago before he had remembered.

Even now the memories of his first lifetime returned like the ever swelling sea. The first memory to return was that of indomitable rage and the feeling of betrayal.

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