Page 97 of Dark Shadow of Guilt

She peeked under the table, grinning with the challenge. “But I thought you were smart.”

Freki snarled but gave in. “The written and verbal language in OneWorld conforms to each person. I don’t bother to question the process. It just is. Accept it. Now, let me snooze.”

Madeline shoved aside a leather-bound, worn book. She’d already read it.

She studied photos in another book. The fangs on the Leeches were huge. Dom was right. Hers were smaller.

She flipped through another volume, the usual banter about the cause of maladies. She didn’t care. Was it Chaos’s fault or the boredom of eternity? Neither of those reasons explained her situation. Somebody had to write a new book.

Here’s an interesting one.

It was about the winged assassins. She read the section on Dom and his friendship with Gareth. Though Maddy had pieced together bits of the story from Dom’s comments, the article filled in what had been too painful for him to share. No wonder she was a reminder of one of the worst moments in his very long life.

She opened a history on infamous Blood Leeches, not recognizing any names except Lucian’s. The writer called him a beloved Immortal who had surprised everyone when he led a rebellion against the OneCreator.

She read the flowery description of the revolt as recorded by Scribe.

The OneCreator sat on his throne, gloriously resplendent in purple robes. His long, blond hair fell about his shoulders, and his eyes were as knowing as the universe.

As he listened to a plea from a courtier, he turned toward a commotion outside his chambers, a room protected by a sturdy door at the entrance. The clamor grew louder, a group led by Lucian breaking through to enter the throne room.

Snapping his head in the Immortal’s direction, the OneCreator’s gaze momentarily froze the intruders. “Lucian, explain yourself.”

“I’ve had enough of your rule. Your cruelty knows no bounds.”

“And what do you intend?” The OneCreator arched a regal brow.

“To replace you.” Lucian drew his sword.

The ruler of Vast shifted in his throne. “Indeed. Think hard on this.”

“I have.”

“Why?”

Lucian uttered one word, “Kalia.”

Madeline paused in her reading. Kalia?Oh, yeah.The first Scourge.

“It was Chaos’s decision,” said the OneCreator.

“You could have stopped him.”

The OneCreator neither denied nor agreed with Lucian’s accusation.

When the much-admired Immortal lunged forward, the OneCreator leaped from his throne, landing in front of the rebel leader. Before Lucian could swing his sword, his head fell from his shoulders.

Madeline skimmed through the chapter until she read Lucian’s fate.

The rebel was taken to Angor, where he lay healing for one and a half millennia. The beneficent OneCreator, in recognition of Lucian’s age and status, did not sentence the Immortal-turned-Scourge to extinction. Rather, he doomed him to a life in Angor.

It is rumored he is a Blood Leech.

She selected another book that cited victims of the Blood Leeches, complete with images following their attacks. Madeline slammed the volume closed, swallowing hard.

Ugly pictures were seared in her mind. Fanged creatures tearing into a neck, blood splattered everywhere. An Immortal’s bitten and ravaged body. A Leech, fully maddened, his canines sharp, his eyes wild.

She rested her head in the palms of her hands and cried.

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