Amber Smoke Read online

  Amber Smoke

  The Escaped: Book One

  BY

  KRISTIN CAST

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Coming Soon…

  Copyright

  Diversion Books

  A Division of Diversion Publishing Corp.

  443 Park Avenue South, Suite 1008

  New York, NY 10016

  www.DiversionBooks.com

  Copyright © 2015 by Kristin Cast

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

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

  For more information, email [email protected]

  First Diversion Books edition July 2015

  ISBN: 978-1-62681-552-0

  For Ja

  You are an amazing teacher, mother, and friend. I couldn’t have done this without you.

  Prologue

  The ancients knew them as the Furies, seekers of justice. Three sisters who acted as jailers, overseeing those who threatened to end humanity and feed from the souls of the innocent. Each sister wore a face of the phases of woman: Maiden, Mother, and Crone. These powerful, ethereal beings held bubbling rage, sickness, and violence locked within the deepest level of the Underworld. It is there that they made their home; in a crystal cave in the heart of Tartarus. In the light of the sugary chandeliers, their gypsum-frosted cavern shimmered like sun-kissed rain. Centuries passed while the sisters kept watch with only each other and the prisoners of Tartarus as companions.

  Until, one day, love drifted down from the Mortal Realm and sprouted in the heart of Maiden...

  • • •

  “There are only two types of mortals,” Mother sniffed as she shuffled through her large wardrobe. “The condemned and the saved.” She pulled out a scarf and tossed it on the bed. It landed in a clump next to Maiden.

  Maiden fingered the scarf’s soft purple velvet. “But what if you are wrong? What if there are infinite types of mortals and they are more complex than they seem?”

  Mother’s short brown hair skimmed her shoulders as she turned to deliver a withering glance to Maiden. “How could they be? They are born and die in the time it takes for you to make even the simplest of decisions.”

  “We cannot blame them for having such a short time on earth. I am merely wishing to experience their world, as I have experienced my own. Even if it is only for a brief while.”

  “That can never happen,” Mother snapped. “Do you understand? We are not like them. We are what keeps them safe for their pitifully short time alive.”

  Maiden sulked, “All beings die eventually. We too shall join them.”

  “We are different.” Mother pulled out a snow-colored shawl and wrapped it around her broad shoulders. “When our cycle ends, we will elevate to a higher purpose. No one will pass judgment or decide our eternity for us.”

  “But—”

  “Enough, Maiden.” Mother closed the mirrored doors. “You must not spend your time creating stories about mortals. Tartarus is in need of our full attention.”

  “You and Crone discuss our home like it is living. It is only chambers and halls like the other levels of the Underworld.” Maiden studied her reflection in the wardrobe and improved her slumping posture.

  “Do you think it is our beauty that protects the mortals and keeps the evils of this world locked away?”

  Maiden twirled the ends of her long auburn hair and shrugged. “I suppose not.”

  “Think, for a moment, on the true evil we jail.”

  “What of it?”

  Mother sighed and sat next to Maiden on the bed. “If even one of those creatures freed itself and traveled up, how would we protect ourselves from their vengeance? How would we protect the mortals you care so deeply for? We must respect our home. It is alive around us, protecting both ourselves and the Mortal Realm from destruction.”

  Maiden ran her fingers over the crystal amulet hanging around her neck. “But that is not possible. Nothing can escape from Tartarus.”

  “It is only impossible until it is not.”

  Maiden’s forehead wrinkled. “I do not understand.”

  “Sister, anything is possible. If the wickedness within this prison made it to the Mortal Realm, we would be destroyed and hell would reign on earth. All the good you see in the human race would wither without Tartarus.”

  “I still do not see the need to classify the mortals so hastily.”

  Mother sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if you will ever learn.” She patted Maiden on the leg. “I may not be able to teach you our history and purpose in one day, but I can open your eyes to some truth. Come with me.”

  Maiden hopped off the bed and followed Mother down a brightly lit hallway. The floor and walls gleamed a glassy white, and Maiden admired her distorted reflection all the way down the narrow passageway.

  Mother stopped abruptly, and Maiden crashed into her back.

  “Apologies.” She giggled.

  The stern look on her sister’s face made her smile fade.

  “Final Judgment takes place just beyond that gate.”

  She followed Mother’s gaze. Tartarus’s foreboding entry gate cast thick shadows on the floor. “I thought I was not to watch Final Judgment.”

  “You need to see what I know to be true. Mortals plead for either eternal freedom in Elysium or mercy in condemnation. Watch the next Final Judgment. See for yourself what simple creatures mortals are. Maybe then you will stop creating stories.” Mother brushed past her sister and disappeared down the hall.

  Maiden crossed her arms and lowered her green eyes to the crisscrossed pattern of shadows. “There is nothing wrong in thinking there is more to them. Besides, are not all stories based in truths?” Maiden said, sliding her bare feet across the smooth floor.

  The narrow hall felt smaller as she approached the grand gate. The stench of decay wafted from the Acheron River, and Maiden covered her nose to keep from gagging.

  “Charon, bring us the next soul for Final Judgment,” a voice thundered from one of the three high-backed platinum chairs at the mouth of the Acheron.

  Although their seats hid the figures, she recognized the voice. “Aeacus,” she whispered, quickening her pace. She reached the gate and stood on her tiptoes to see over its filigree designs.

  Charon’s skiff drunkenly bobbed along the waters of the Acheron. Its lone passenger held his arms out to steady himself as Charon guided the boat to shore.

  “Your time has come.” Charon’s bony arm pointed to the chairs. “Go, face your judgment, but do not forget to leave my payment.” His long beard seemed to pull him down; a small hump formed between his shoulder blades.

  The soul stood and droppe
d his fare by Charon’s feet. It hit the vessel with a hollow thud. “Your coin, Charon,” he said, bowing low before he disembarked.

  “Galen Argyris, your life in the Mortal Realm has ended. Your soul now faces Final Judgment. Only two choices remain, Elysium or the Underworld. How do you believe your soul has been colored?” Aeacus thundered.

  “I am innocent.” He stood tall before the panel, too proud to bend to the river’s stench. “But I am not deserving of a place in Elysium. I made a deal in the Mortal Realm to trade my soul for that of my son.”

  “You wish to relinquish your soul’s right to Elysium to spare your son?” A second voice reverberated through the chamber.

  “I do, Rhadamanthus. The seer assured me the pact we made would be accepted,” Galen said.

  “And it will, unless you change your fate. The agreement you reached in the Mortal Realm can be quickly overturned,” Aeacus said.

  Rhadamanthus leaned forward. “Your son lit fire to a villa, causing the death of four mortals. Condemnation for taking life is severe. It will feel even more so as it has been earned by another.”

  “Those lives were not taken on purpose.” Sorrow touched Galen’s voice. “My son deserves a second chance. I will not go back on my word. I accept whatever may come with the fate I have chosen.”

  Maiden’s calves ached, and she squeezed the gate’s swirling bars to steady herself.

  “Galen Argyris, the Underworld will be your home. You will be trapped for eternity within its gates, and it will drain you of all happiness and hope. Do you understand?” the third voice boomed.

  Galen nodded. “Yes, Minos.”

  Minos continued, “Your fate has been decided. Enter Tartarus and await your warden. You cannot escape or change this judgment. It is final and binding.”

  The gate vibrated and Maiden ducked into the shadows. It clattered open and Galen’s footsteps brought him closer to her. His shoulders slumped slightly as he walked past her, and Maiden couldn’t resist the urge to call out to him.

  “Galen!” Startled, he turned and Maiden stepped into the light. “Why did you do such a thing?” she blurted out.

  Shock painted his face. “I did not imagine someone so beautiful would not be pure enough to enter Elysium.”

  Maiden blushed. “You think I am beautiful?”

  “More than any creature in the Mortal Realm.”

  “But I am not of your realm. I am Maiden, sister to Mother and Crone.”

  “You are one of the Furies?” Embarrassment seeped into his voice, and he bowed respectfully. “My apologies. I was taken aback by your presence. It is an honor to be in your company.”

  She stepped closer to him and placed her hand on his back. “Please, do not apologize. I am the one who is honored.”

  His bright gray eyes reflected the shimmering light of Tartarus. “There is no reason you have to feel honored. I am awaiting condemnation.”

  “I watched and know what occurred.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “I wish my sisters could have also seen your judgment.”

  He smiled and shook his head. “I don’t know that I would have been as brave with all three Furies as witnesses.”

  “I am certain nothing would have changed your mind. However, seeing you would have strengthened my argument and proven their belief erroneous.”

  “What belief is that?”

  “They think there are only two paths mortals choose while in the Mortal Realm. The path of good, which leads to Elysium, or that of damnation, which has its beginnings here. For them, there is no other route.”

  Galen shook his head. “There are always other paths. We are faced with their challenges daily.”

  “That is something I have known in my heart to be true, but have never been able to convince my sisters. But the path you chose must have been one of good to earn you entry to Elysium.”

  “By the laws of the Underworld, I did nothing to prevent my access into Elysium, but I did not lead an admirable life.” Galen’s smile melted and his stare lowered. “I was not a good father. My son made many mistakes because of my failings.”

  “Of what failings do you speak?”

  “I was a merchant, and traveled many miles trading goods to give my son the monies needed to lead a comfortable life.”

  “I hear nothing deserving of the fate you sought out,” Maiden said.

  “In truth, I was selfish.” The light in his eyes dimmed as sorrow took hold. “After my wife passed into Elysium, I did not need to be away from my son. I only did so to drown myself in the comfort of women and forget my own pain. I never thought of my son’s pain, and I did not prove myself as the strong father he needed.”

  She held his hand and squeezed it gently. “You did prove yourself. In the choice you made here. You could be free in Elysium, but instead you saved that gift for him. There is nothing you could have done that would be more important than that decision.”

  “I could have taught him how to be a man of honor. He deserves the eternal happiness I did not provide him during my time with the living.”

  “Galen Argyris.” A cloaked figure stood at the mouth of the hall. “It is time. Follow me.”

  “Thank you, Maiden.” He pressed his warm lips against the back of her hand. “I did not know such joy and light could exist in the Underworld.”

  Maiden held her hand against her chest, and sadness crept into her as Galen walked to his fate.

  Weeks passed, and Maiden’s heart ached with thoughts of Galen’s suffering. So much so that she often snuck into the level where he served his condemnation. She soothed her heartsickness and provided him the joy he lacked.

  “I am dreading the day I do not see you again,” he said, his attention fixed on the picturesque villa before them. Smoke swirled around the estate and fire lapped against its outer walls.

  “I cannot stay away from you, nor do I want to,” she said warmly as she snuggled up to him.

  He blindly searched for her hand and squeezed it gently.

  “Let us not spend our time together here. Come with me.” She tugged at his arm, but he didn’t budge.

  “I cannot,” he said flatly.

  “Do you grow tired of me? Look at me, Galen,” she pleaded.

  He strained to turn his face to hers.

  “I…I do not understand,” she stammered.

  “This is the soul imprint of the events that lead to my son’s damnation. Every day I build this home, and every night I’m powerless, forced to watch the family burn.”

  She cupped his face and turned his head back to the fire. “Do not struggle against your condemnation. I do not wish to cause you pain.”

  “Maiden, you are worth enduring the pain.” The fire blazed in his soft, gray eyes. “You bring Elysium with you and make this eternity bearable.”

  She leaned into him and kissed him slowly. Neither of them breathed as the fire raged behind her.

  • • •

  Maiden’s forbidden romance ensued with the innocent soul who traded his place in Elysium.

  True love, this clean emotion, was a virgin to Tartarus. Its light never before touched so deep within the Underworld. Because of this light, this love borne in the condemned depths of the twinkling ice cave of Tartarus, a curse formed. It breathed toxins into the glassy cave walls, creating viscous strings that hung thick and wet. They dripped into its once serene turquoise pools turning them into acidic, milky mazes that coursed through Tartarus’s veins.

  The infected level could no longer contain its prisoners, and they tore free. Powerless against the waves of evil beings escaping to claim the mortal world as their own, the Furies watched helplessly as the freed inmates spewed venom throughout humanity. Corruption, plague, and brutality swept the Mortal Realm.

  Desperate, Maiden beseeched Hera, Goddess of childbirth, asking her to come to their aid and heal the ailing Tartarus. Hera took pity on Maiden and gifted her with a child, created from the passion of her forbidden love. “You will birth a son,” H
era whispered into Maiden’s ear. “Your son will grow to be a warrior, tasked only to slay the wicked who escaped to the Mortal Realm and send them back to the prison within Tartarus. As he restores the balance, the curse will wane.”

  When Maiden first held her baby boy, she felt apprehension rather than joy. “He cannot leave,” she cried, calling upon Hera once more.

  “And he shall not,” Hera replied. “He must stay in the Underworld, for that is where he draws his strength. Being exposed for too long in the mortal world will weaken him and steal his divine gifts.”

  Maiden gazed lovingly at the tiny bundle in her arms, her beautiful boy. “My warrior child. How am I to raise him for this task?”

  Her sisters appeared, gently taking the child from her arms. While Crone laid the child in his bassinet to let Maiden rest, Mother soothed her troubled spirit. “You shall not do it alone, sister. We shall have help.”

  One

  Twenty-Three Years Later

  “Do you think he is ready?” Maiden’s worry reverberated off of the barren cave walls. Their luster had faded long ago, replaced by a lifeless chalky gray.

  “He has spent enough days training in the Mortal Realm. It is time he proves himself worthy of the title of warrior.” Mother turned the corner to the innermost chamber. Her sisters hustled to keep up with her rushed pace as the once smooth floors flaked under their feet.

  “I do not want to see him hurt because he has not been well enough prepared,” Maiden whined.

  “The last of the pools in the Hall of Echoes has begun to dry up, and with it our ability to see our enemies in the Mortal Realm. There is no way of knowing when they will overtake the mortals and if they are gathering together to destroy us. He must be prepared, and now,” Mother said.

  Maiden pleaded, “He has only been tested against lowly tricksters. You know they are nothing in comparison to the great evil that escaped from our walls. They did not even have an effect on the curse when he sent their bodies down to us.”