The Veil Read online

  THE

  VEIL

  STUART MECZES

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  THE VEIL

  Copyright © 2015 by Stuart Meczes

  Cover art by Claudia McKinney

  All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher or author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that which it is published and without similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Stuart Meczes asserts the moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

  Published in 2015 by Amazon Digital Services.

  British Library C.I.P. A CIP catalogue record of this title is available from the British Library.

  Also available by Stuart Meczes

  Without A Heartbeat (Hasea Chronicles Book 0)

  The Awakening (Hasea Chronicles Book I)

  The Corruption (Hasea Chronicles Book II)

  Misfortune Market (A Hasea Chronicles Novella)

  Tommy and the Simbots: The Golden Wing

  Man with Fangs (Short Story)

  Coming Soon

  The Rising (Hasea Chronicles Book IV)

  Nightstalkers: Episode 1 (Co-written with Leila d’Angelo)

  The Red Knight Chronicles: Canto I

  London Burning (The Grit Saga Book I)

  Note to reader,

  I feel that I have grown a lot with my characters over the six years since I first dreamt up the idea for this series. Alex, Gabriella, and the other members of Orion have matured a lot through the events they have faced in the books, and as a result so too has my writing style. Through this shift, the subject content of the series has also matured. The Corruption was darker in tone than The Awakening, and the series prequel, Without A Heartbeat, and the novella Misfortune Market were darker still than both previous novels. With this in mind, I feel that it would be irresponsible of me not to warn potential readers that this book continues the exploration of mature (and sometimes unsettling) subject matter. Whilst there is absolutely still adventure, lighthearted moments and visceral action (the latter I feel more than any of the other books) there are also some very disturbing and violent scenes. Whereas I feel that The Awakening and perhaps even The Corruption can be read by anyone above twelve – similar to Without A Heartbeat and Misfortune Market – I would not recommend anyone who is under fifteen or easily offended to read The Veil.

  If you’re still here, prepare for one hell of a ride!

  Stuart Meczes

  P.S. The Veil is written in British English, so certain words will be spelled differently.

  To Leila,

  Without you, this series would not exist. You are my muse, my compass, and most importantly of all, my best friend.

  To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.

  –Ralph Waldo Emerson

  Contents:

  Also Available

  Note to Reader

  Prologue

  Part I: Through the Looking Glass

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  Part II: Divided

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33: In the Name of Forgiveness

  34

  Part III: Deception

  35

  36

  37

  38

  39

  40

  41

  42

  43

  Epilogue

  Bonus

  Without A Heartbeat Sample

  About the Author

  Prologue

  The thick chains cut into the Guardian’s skin like teeth. Old, venomous wounds had scarred his wrists, hardened through the years of being shackled to the spot. He twisted his head up to catch a few drops of water that fell in steady drips from the rocky ceiling. The taste was foul, but he had been without a drink for almost two days and his throat burned like acid.

  It was dark. The sort of darkness that made a man feel cold and alone. The sort of darkness that made a man think too much about things. On days when he wasn’t fighting for his life, accompanied by the thunder of the baying crowd, or lying in the torture chamber that doubled as an infirmary – tended to by crude hands with cruder tools – he was confined to this dungeon cell. A dank, dark slice of hell carved from hard rock and ringed by adamantine bars. It was here – in this place, where a bale of rotten hay passed for a bed – that he sat and thought about things. He thought about all the mistakes he had made. About the people he had trusted that he shouldn’t have. When he was really low, he thought about dying, about just giving up and letting death’s cold grip seize him. But what he thought about more often than not was those he had left behind.

  Most of all, he thought about him.

  A door creaked open from somewhere above and the shuddering roar from a crowd rushed into the catacombs. The torches flared into life automatically, the blinding glare of light piercing the Guardian’s eyes. Doing his best to shield them, he listened as two sets of hooved feet made their way down the winding stone steps and into the passage that ran between the cells. He felt his body tense up. The sounds of spectators and approaching Pitguards meant only one thing…they were reaping for a new event.

  It can’t be…

  There had been one only a few days before. He should know; he had been the star attraction, pitted against six Luminar prisoners of war and a Devil. Twisting his head around as much as the chains would allow, he slowly opened his eyes and stared out between his cell bars. The outside was a huge corridor full of high arches and columns, which cast shadows as tall as trees. Thousands of cells just like his one were set into the vast walls. Inside he could see the silhouettes of worn-out, desperate prisoners just like him, each trying to shrink into the darkness, as if they could dissolve into the shadows and hide.

  But there was no hiding in this place.

  A series of voices echoed through the dungeon. The Pitguards spoke in Th’ail – a regional Demon dialect. As a Chosen, his mind translated the language automatically. The guards were talking about something animatedly in their gruff voices.

  “Another event so soon is a mistake,” grumbled one of them. “It costs Vangarr far too much.”

  “Don’t be ignorant, Malaketh, the city needs the distraction. The growing rumours about this boy are causing unrest.”

  “Yeah, I heard them. Powers beyond anything we’ve ever seen.” Malaketh snorted. “Propaganda bullshit at it’s finest.”

  “So you believe it was propaganda that killed The Sorrow?”

  “No one knows what actually happened, Dorrag. It was probably more luck than anything.”

  “Luck killed the strongest entity Pandemonia has ever seen? Don’t be a fool.”

  “You never know.”

  “So how about the fact that the same boy almost killed Yeth too?”
/>
  There was a pause. The Guardian strained to hear, his keen ears not wanting to miss a word.

  “I…didn’t know that.”

  “Of course you didn’t. You need to spend less time with those Shinroba whores and more time paying attention to what’s going on around you. The Highguard barely escaped alive.”

  A sweep of flame appeared by the Guardian’s cell and he saw the rust-coloured figures of two Lamiae Pitguards emerge from the darkness. Their corporeal forms stood tall and sleek – like old blood solidified – and topped with ivory horns. The guards were wearing their red-plated armour, long cloaks sweeping close to the ground. They slowed at the Chosen’s cell, and his heart skipped a beat.

  Please god, no. Not again.

  Dorrag gave a menacing grin. “Don’t worry Deathbreaker, you’ve got a free pass today.”

  They moved on, and he heard the jangle of keys as one of the Pitguards removed them from his belt. The footsteps stopped a few yards further on and there was an echoing clank as cell bars were unlocked. A pitiful voice came from deep inside. It belonged a young Elf girl who had been captured only days before.

  “No, please don’t!” she pleaded. “I’ll do anything you want.”

  “Shut up and get out here now, you Luminar bitch, or I’ll cut you fifty different ways and leave you to bleed to death.”

  Helpless, the Guardian watched as the terrified girl was dragged past him. By Elf standards she was barely a teenager, her body still growing into itself. Her wild eyes locked with his as she struggled against the Pitguards, silently pleading with him to do something – anything – to help her.

  But there was nothing he could do.

  Fear took over and a dark stain appeared at the Elf girl’s crotch, causing the Pitguards to break out into evil laughter. The Guardian heard her stifled screams as they dragged her through the dungeon towards the stairs. Listening to the cries of the desperate prisoners always made his heart ache with sadness. However, it was what Malaketh and Dorrag said next that had the biggest impact of all.

  “I just don’t see why everyone is so nervous about one little Chosen. Give him to me, and I’d crush his skull like a baby’s.”

  “Everything we know suggests you’d die before you got within ten feet.”

  More silence. “So what’s this bastard’s name anyway?”

  “Alexander Eden.”

  The words pierced into the Guardian’s heart like a dagger. He could barely breathe as emotion washed over him. For the first time in sixteen years, he allowed himself to break down, weeping uncontrollably. He wept long after the torches had winked out and the darkness had resettled over the dungeon.

  In the cold shadows, a single word spilled from his lips, carrying with it a weight that only one who has been taken from those he loves could truly comprehend.

  “Son.”

  PART I

  THROUGH

  THE

  LOOKING

  GLASS

  1

  Alex

  Invisible hands wrapped around my throat, choking me. My temples thumped in a drumbeat that matched the frantic pounding of my heart, and pressure raced outwards from my chest like a shockwave threatening to grind my bones into dust.

  Then it was over.

  I burst out of the Veil and stumbled forward a few steps. A second later Gabriella emerged, coughing and clutching at her chest. I placed a steadying hand on her shoulder and she nodded up at me.

  I can’t believe we’re here… We’re in Pandemonia.

  One by one the rest of Orion burst through the Veil, gasping and swearing as they stumbled into the new world. It wasn’t long before all eleven Guardians and five Unicorns had crossed the threshold between worlds. A couple of the Fera bucked and whinnied in distress, and it took several of the team to restrain them. In contrast, Isiodore – the stallion of the herd – stood like a regal statue, aquamarine eyes surveying the scene as if recalling forgotten memories.

  “Everybody okay?” asked Gabriella once we had settled the Unicorns.

  “Apart from feelin’ like I just got pushed through a grinder, ah’m awesome,” quipped Delagio, checking over his guns. Everyone else agreed that they were okay. My heartbeat was thumping overtime as I looked at my teammates, and a sudden wave of unease washed over me. Have I really done this? Have I really bought the people I care about most to a war-torn world?

  “What…is this place?” asked Sophia, her voice full of wonder. Her words snapped the tether connected to my panicking thoughts, and I turned to look.

  It was a good question.

  We had emerged onto an altar within some immense shrine. The towering Veil shard stood behind us – framed by horn-like silver arches – and in front, marbled steps led to a vast chamber covered with several inches of shimmering water. Flickering candelabras ran the length of the flooded room – scattering shadows in petals around them – and waterfalls ran down the walls, disappearing into narrow slits and filling the shrine with a shushing sound. Overseeing everything was the biggest statue I’d ever seen, carved from smooth rock the colour of milk. It had been crafted into a hulking whale-like creature of incredible detail, with spiked fins that ran the length of its body and a heaving tail that wrapped around a sword as tall as a house. The open mouth alone was wide enough to swallow us all.

  “I’ve a feelin’ we’re not in Kansas anymore,” quipped Delagio.

  I could send them back…

  A set of impossibly large doors at the end of the cavernous chamber heaved open, sending water rippling towards us, and a series of tall figures marched into the room. They were clearly the Lightwardens Sage Faru had mentioned. Each wore a set of metallic armour resembling a bed of white leaves and matching helmets with a V-shaped peak and twin blades at the sides; they resembled the folded wings of a swan. To complete the look, they wore one-shouldered cloaks so blue they could have been cut from the ocean. And all of them were carrying what looked like the deadly offspring of a gun and a pike.

  It didn’t do much to squash the uneasy feeling.

  The twenty-odd Lightwardens split into two rows and took up position between the candelabras. Then in perfect symmetry they all spun their gunpikes and stamped them into the ground, sending water splashing up around them. A second later, a final figure stepped into the chamber. He walked between the guards, carrying an air of grace with him. He stood tallest of all – probably six foot seven – but wore it well. He took off his helmet, exposing angular features and keen purple eyes. His pale blonde hair was fixed into a ponytail by a jeweled band, and it swung lazily as he studied each of us in turn. The uniform he wore was a superior version of the others – each leaf of the plate armour had been stamped with decorative flourishes. His cloak was full and lay fastened around his collarbone with linked broaches designed to look like golden wings.

  “Travellers,” he said in a voice that had been honed to command respect. “Please display the marks of the Alliance.”

  Gabriella nodded and we all pulled back our uniform sleeves to display our left wrists. After a few seconds the universally known symbol carved with Dragon’s blood bloomed on the skin.

  The Highwarden gave a satisfied nod. “Thank you. Sage Faru had made us aware of your imminent arrival, however these days one can never be too careful.” He opened his arms in a welcoming gesture. “Guardians, I am Aegis Caria, Highwarden of the Wardens of Light. Welcome to the Temple of Cetus.”

  I glanced back over at the imposing statue. Cetus…that’s the Water Elemental. They must worship it here. Makes sense…Fenodara is the Water City, after all.

  Gabriella stepped forward, folding her arms behind her back. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Highwarden Caria. I am Gabriella De Luca, Huntmaster of Orion Squad, pledged to the Warren charter of the Alliance.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, Huntmaster. And please, call me Aegis.”

  “Thank you, Aegis.” She gestured towards Scarlett. “This is Scarlett Reid, my second in command.”

/>   The Bloodling gave a respectful nod.

  “A pleasure.”

  “This is Alexander Eden,” Gabriella added, gesturing towards me.

  I was surprised when the Highwarden placed a fist against his chest and gave a deep bow. “It is an honour to meet the Sorrowslayer in person. Your actions undoubtedly saved countless Luminar lives, not to mention put the fear of the Elementals into the Umbra. We are in your debt, and it is a privilege to have you here.”

  I felt my face flush at Aegis’s unexpected compliment. It hadn’t really occurred to me that my defeating of The Sorrow had become such widespread knowledge. Sorrowslayer? As guilty as it made me feel, I had to admit that the name had a nice ring to it.

  “It is an honour to be here,” I said as confidently as I could manage.

  Gabriella carried on introducing the rest of the team. I noticed Aegis frown slightly when his gaze landed on Iralia – who was busy folding her leathery Succubus wings up behind her back – but he said nothing. Once the introductions were over, the Highwarden leaned towards one of the guards and spoke in Shillah – a common Elf dialect. I tried to hear what he was saying but couldn’t, so when six of his guards suddenly paced towards us, my evolved body acted on autopilot. As soon as the first warden reached me, I seized his shoulder, fixing him in place. He tried to use his weapon to bat me off, but I grabbed it with my other hand and held tight, stopping him. The remaining guards reacted in an instant – aiming their gunpikes at me and glancing warily at the Highwarden. I kept my firm grip on the Lightwarden’s shoulder and his weapon, every inch of me ready to attack. After defeating the Darkness that had taken over my body, my power had grown infinitely. I didn’t know what they were planning, but if they tried something, they wouldn’t last long.