Reversed by Alexa Grave Read Free Book Online Page A

the screams wouldn’t let him.
    * * * * *
    Darney didn’t see another soul on the path. Few traveled it,
with good reason. The man at the end of it drove people to preserve their
lives, and to do that they avoided him.
    But he had magic. Great magic. Magic Darney needed. And
wished he had.
    He pressed his hand to his pocket – the screams and whimpers
hushed for a moment, comforted by his touch. Then they returned with fresh
vigor when they realized his touch couldn’t heal them. Caring wasn’t enough.
    Darney eventually crossed into the mage’s territory.
Gnarled, leafless trees twined their branches toward the sky. That part of the
forest was dead, yet alive at the same time. Darney felt the heat and
heartbeats of every single tree, just like from the cards in his pocket. He
shuddered. Not a place he’d rather linger.
    The path finally ended. Two ancient trees stood sentinel at
a wrought-iron gate, so old that it was more rust than metal. Beyond the gate,
steps led up the side of a large hill, disappearing around a bend. He couldn’t
see the house from there, a fog hanging low, but he’d heard tales about it from
those who had escaped the mage’s wrath.
    No use prolonging the inevitable. He stepped up to the gate,
which swung open on its own accord. Unsettling – clearly its intention. One
step at a time, just one step at a time. Ask for help, then leave. Or flee. The gate clanged shut behind him.
    Darney climbed and climbed – no end in sight, no house in
the distance. The stairs spiraled up the hill and hours passed, the sun
plunging below the horizon. Would he ever reach the man he’d come to see? It
was a mountain, no mere hill.
    He paused, the fog dancing around him, stuck his hand in his
pocket, then pulled out a card. The Tower, its facade cracked. Several voices
muttered in his mind – the cards seemed confused.
    Darney wouldn’t fail, no matter what the card implied. He
slipped the Tower back in his pocket and continued walking. Magic had to be
behind this endless mountain. Strong magic.
    He’d come to the right place.
    No matter how long he had to walk, he wouldn’t stop until he
found the mage. Seventy-eight little lives depended on him. He plodded on, his
determination growing inside.
    And the fog cleared, perhaps from his pure focus, his
unwillingness to relent, revealing a three-story mansion towering in front of
him.
    Two even more ancient trees marked the left and right
corners of the house. Something rattled in their branches. At one time, the
mansion had been white; he saw that under the dirt and grime and peeling paint.
Now it stood gray and dreary. Pillars decorated the outer ramparts, and
gargoyles, tongues sticking out in comical positions, dotted the roof.
    One of the gargoyles moved.
    Darney stepped back. Wait, no, it was only a bit of debris
stuck to a wing and flapping in the wind. He wouldn’t let the house deter him.
    Well, he was there; time to face the monster. He stepped up
to the door, took hold of the heavy knocker, and banged it against the wood.
The door creaked open, darkness revealing nothing within.
    The cards stopped their wailing, unsure of where their
master was taking them.
    Darney nearly turned around to rush back down the stairs,
but the Fool card sobbed, reminding him why he was there. He propelled himself
over the threshold.
    The door thundered closed and candles came to life all
around him, lighting the entire foyer. A large candelabra hung above him, the
metal as rusted as the gate. The entryway was tidy enough – artwork of purple
vistas of Fate on the walls and a fancy table surrounded by a couple of chairs,
a pile of moth-eaten books on one of the cushions. The embroidered rugs were
worn, and dust covered everything. Nothing too sinister, just wealth fallen on
hard times.
    Two gargoyles perched on the newel posts on either side of a
set of spiral stairs leading up. Weren’t those things ugly enough outside? One
seemed to wink at him. It had to be a trick