Hollow Palace (Wattpad Exclusive)

Chapter Two

Two

For a long moment, after the man inside the corpse had heaved himself onto the hilltop to lie on the stone, face-down, naked and panting, neither Eli nor Jena moved.

Eli's mind was racing, along with her pulse. Every small hair on her skin was standing on end. This was magic of the kind well beyond anything she'd ever heard of. Magic that was supposed to be dead and gone. The only magic left in the world was the magic that the vamins possessed, which allowed them to rule—and to enslave someone in their family to be their padaka. That was all. That was more than enough. Eli was shaking her head long before she realized it.

"Let's go," she said in a whisper, plucking at Jena's sleeve. But as Eli took a step back, Jena took a step forward and then another. Eli froze, torn between running to save herself and stopping Jena—not that she could've stopped Jena from doing anything. "Jena," she said through her teeth. Then, more strongly, "Jena!"

But Jena was already standing next to the . . . person. Eli wasn't convinced he was a person. More likely a god in disguise or some demon or . . . something. She didn't know. She didn't want to know. Jena reached out to touch the creature's back.

"Jena!"

Jena glanced over her shoulder at Eli. Then the demon-man grabbed Jena's wrist, rising up. Jena fell to her knees. A fierce gust of wind pushed Eli onto her backside. The man rose, floating above the ground. Blackness unfurled from behind him, flapping like pennants of storm clouds, which then curled and tightened around his body, becoming clothes. His eyes were black as the obsidian ruins.

"To me you serve." His voice was not loud, but Eli's ears ached from the pressure of it. She knew these kind of words. She'd heard them spoken before. The oppressive weight of magic in the air, like being trapped in small dark room with no way out, was all too familiar.

"To me your life," he said. "No will before mine, else suffer and die."

He released Jena, and then he fell in a heap to the ground. Jena held up her hand. The cursed mark of his hand remained on her wrist. The dark russet imprint twisted from a hand print into an ornate band, similar to the one that Eli had around her throat.

The wind was gone, the magic over.

Eli clambered to her feet. This thing had enslaved Jena!

He slumped on his side, face turned into the ground, gasping. Eli's hand tightened around the hilt of her dagger. A long buried rage burst from its tomb within her. She rushed at the man-thing, shoved him onto his back, and thrust her blade to his throat. All the blood and muck from his corpse-birth were gone, and his face was smooth, yet hard-edged, a deep hue. His hair was dry now too, hanging in white-gold spikes over his eyebrows and below his ears. His eyes, black.

"Release her," Eli said, pressing the blade hard against the soft skin below his jaw, drawing blood.

Suddenly, Jena's arm wrapped around Eli's throat and yanked her back, choking her. Eli clawed at her cousin's forearm.

The man wiped at the blood she'd drawn from him, looking at the bright scarlet smear on his fingertips for a long second before he sat up.

"I don't want to kill her," Jena said to him, even as she was cutting off Eli's air.

He waved and Jena released Eli. Eli gasped, landing on her hands and knees. Jena knelt beside her.

"Forgive me, cousin, I didn't—"

Eli glared at the black-eyed stranger. "What are you?"

He stared back at her, but didn't answer. Then he got to his feet. Jena helped Eli up as well, holding her hand tight. He was not as tall as Jena, but taller than Eli by a handspan. His black shirt and trousers were strange enough being that they'd come from nowhere, but they were fitted around his torso and limbs in tight swaths, wound almost like a shroud without being visibly tied or fastened. His boots appeared like strips of leather wrapped around his feet.