Prisoner of Chaos (Redemption Book #4)

Chapter 9

"Let's go," Scenna says, as soon as she finds me back from dropping Loper off.

"You're just going to meet more of his kind going into the smugglers' camp, more low-lifes who may have been associated with Dirk," I tell her. "Why don't you go back to the palace? I can take it from here."

"I promised you I was going to help keep you away from Kyla," Scenna says, her jaw tightens determinedly. "You're not getting to the bottom of this without me."

"Come on then," I nod at her. "Take my hand. I know a faster way to travel."

"Through magic?" Scenna asks me, a trouble expression crosses her face.

"You have traveled on the Sky Wave, haven't you?" I ask her.

Scenna nods.

"Our technology is magical. No one knows where arlite truly gets it's power to send us to different worlds and transport us to different cities," I reason with her. "What difference does this make?"

"Because it comes from the Dark Lord?" Scenna says bluntly, "Doesn't it scare you that you have to use his powers to function in life?"

"Let's just go, Scenna, the sooner we figure out about what is going on in Erlund the sooner I can die in peace," I grumble, I don't want to think about what she just said. That's the thing about my life that I begrudge my mother the most on. I was born a magical being because of my father, but my mother was the one who infused my body with the darkness.

I offer my hand to Scenna. "If you want to ride a mytonir instead, be my guest," I say. "Good luck catching up though."

"Fine," Scenna groans, and she slaps her hand on top of mine. "I've been through worse I'm sure."

I'd never traveled in this way before the Dark Lord appeared. Perhaps Scenna is right, maybe it isn't safe to use, maybe it secretly gives the Dark Lord power over me.

It would be hard to explain to Scenna how my magical abilities work. She is a non magical being. Even explaining it to Kyla would prove difficult I believe. So innate magic is to me that it is like any skill I've acquired over time, I don't even think about it, it just obeys my wishes. I don't know how to create more than clothing and metals at this point, but I'm beginning to wonder if it's possible for me to do more than I ever imagined.

That's what I want for you, I want you to become like a god. Give in to me. Give me everything. I'll see to it that chaos feeds you to a point of omnipotence.

I wasn't telling you I wanted that. Thanks for showing up though, I think sarcastically at the Dark Lord.

We arrive in the middle of the camp in a cloud of black mist. My mother's flair for theatrics through her dark magic, tactfully intimidated people and I'm carrying on her tradition as my own ruse to these smugglers that I'm just as merciless and mysterious as her.

"It's the Dark Lord, it must be!" I hear one of the smugglers, a huldra shout.

"Yes," I tell them, smiling at the awed faces. "I'm here to continue my mother's legacy, and take over what she started."

"Rift," I hear my name, no title and I already know who it is.

Cask, the leader of the smuggling ring, and the man whose love for my mother was borderline obsessive. She'd assured his loyalty by hooking him with her charms and a lot of mind control.

"You're not taking over anything. I don't know why you dare show your face around here," Cask begins, he leans against a barrel of tainted arlite and cracks his knuckles. "After what you did."