<< Go Back

Journey to ChiYah

By Kimberly Russell

Order Now!

Prologue

The cave’s bone-chilling temperature matched the icy loathing that enveloped Mayor’s heart.
Stalactites tapered from the ceiling to where fat water droplets echoed a drip-drip-drip as they spattered to the ground. One landed on his cheek, and he swiped it away.
Fossils embedded in the granite walls looked like carved-out faces, frozen in silent screams. He sneezed from the damp, musty odor oozing from every crevice. Allergies? More like an aversion to this horrid place.
He drilled the tip of his cane impatiently into the crumbling limestone of the cave’s floor. Why had he ever agreed to meet in the enemy’s lair? They could have sat in one of the pleasant conference rooms at the home office where at least a mug of steaming tea would melt his frozen insides. Abaddon had probably insisted on holding the meeting in the wintry cavern just to annoy him—like having Mayor on his turf would give him the upper hand? He’d never learn.
Eons ago, Abaddon had been one of Mayor’s top agents… that is until his pride got the best of him. He challenged authority and attempted a coup that earned him permanent banishment from the kingdom.
Thunder boomed, and the cave vibrated until dirt from the ceiling tumbled down the walls. Mayor smirked. Was this little spectacle supposed to impress him? A howling wind forced him to hold his hat in place. With a burst of flame, his host arrived.
Tall and lanky, the man appeared gaunt, his face a pale shade of gray. Even his black hair was streaked with more silver than Mayor recalled. Perhaps the stress of perpetual defeat was beginning to weigh on him.
Mayor took in the oily black tux and tails that shimmered with red leather outlines. Orange buttons shaped like flames dotted the double breast and accented the vest underneath. An ebony tie circled his neck and set off the bright orange shirt to complete the outfit. He had to admit that his arch enemy did cut a rather dashing figure. Too bad there’s so much ugly on the inside.
“Every girl’s crazy ‘bout a sharp-dressed man, eh?” Abaddon threw his head back and roared at his own humor.
Mayor pursed his lips. His adversary’s attempt to conceal emotions through animated jocularity fell flat, his eyes, cold and dead, betraying an inner turmoil of significant magnitude. Interesting.
“Surely you know one of the greatest party songs of all time.” He hummed a few bars of the old rock-and-roll tune. “ZZ Top?”
“Can we just get on with it?”
The evil one smirked, snapped his fingers, and a round table surrounded by rolling chairs appeared. They settled, and one of Abaddon’s hired hands rolled in a cart with an onyx coffee pot trimmed in gold with matching mugs. The man shot a fearful glance at his boss, received a dismissive grunt, then bowed and backed out of the room.
Abaddon reached for the pot and slopped the steaming liquid into his cup. “Sorry about the coffee—I know you prefer tea. Say, I’ve always wondered. Is your fairyland named after that nasty chai stuff you favor so much?”
If only he knew what ChīYah really meant. With a grimace, Mayor poured the brew, thick as bayou mud and probably tasted the same. Maybe the revolting stuff would deflect the mind-numbing cold of the drafty cave and this disconcerting meeting. What could the sneaky scoundrel be up to with this little tête-à-tête? He wants something.
After being blackballed decades earlier, Abaddon had begged for the opportunity to recover from his fall from grace and regain the power, control, and respect he’d once held. Just to satiate him, Mayor had grudgingly capitulated and agreed to allow the crafty menace to entice ChīYah visitors into joining his evil ranks, even though the plan was doomed for failure. Nonnegotiable guidelines had been put in place as an extra layer of security and Abaddon was no closer to his goal than when he started, his success rate exactly as Mayor expected: dismal at best.
Oh, he’d snatched a few naive guests, blinding them with his slick tongue and fast-talk, but for the most part? His fantasy of a better outcome in order to regain his previous illustrious position had failed at every turn. The buffoon was often blinded by mistaken illusions of grandeur.
“What’s this all about?” Mayor looked at his watch. “I have better things to do.”
Abaddon laced his hands behind his head. “You know how much I enjoy tormenting the folks that plod through your precious ChīYah on the road to greatness, right?”
Mayor grunted.
“Well, I’d like to negotiate a revision to the original agreement—the process has become quite… tiresome.”
“And why would I consider that? Things have worked just fine, at least from my perspective.”
Abaddon stroked his chin. “Come on. Live dangerously for once in your boring life. What do you say we up the stakes and make things a little more interesting?”
Mayor grabbed his coffee cup and gulped a mouthful of the cold, wicked brew. What was the rogue angling for? There had to be ulterior motives hidden behind his request.
“The Resistance needs fresh blood. Tech geeks. Young professionals. Great brains with brilliant IQs. All we seem to get are your rejects, and I want some high-end staff. Why should you get all the good ones?”
“They’re all good ones.” Mayor slammed his mug on the table. “What are you up to? Some things are not open for discussion.”
“Aw, simmer down. I know how inflexible you can be.” Abaddon screwed up his face. “I can only go as far as you allow,” he mimicked. “But you have something I want.”
“I don’t owe you anything.” Mayor snarled.
Abaddon inspected black-painted fingernails. “I figured you’d say that—how predictable you are. That’s why I’m proposing a challenge. A… contest of sorts.” His nostrils flared. “Where the best man wins the prize. I want an Avnet.”
Mayor groaned. He should have seen this coming. In the past, Abaddon had hinted at getting his grubby hands on the coveted sash awarded to those completing their journey through ChīYah. Why was he so keen on obtaining the sacred sash? Probably because his ego was still smarting from the last defeat.
He could picture Abaddon parading in front of his cohorts, the priestly Hebrew vestment that stood for glory and beauty carelessly thrown over his shoulder. Would he use it to mock and bluster in an attempt to convince them of his mighty power? Probably. He’s so full of himself, it’s a wonder he fits through the mouth of the cave. Mayor shook his head with a disgusted sigh at the utter stupidity of the man.
Abaddon’s eyes darkened black like coal. “My idea is simple. You’ve got a gal coming in soon that I think will be perfect for this experiment.” He clucked his tongue. “Thirtyish, a bit, chubby, works in a library. Same tired scenario as the others. Past issues affecting her present. Fear and insecurities. Blah, blah, blah.”
“Watch it. She’s one of mine.”
Abaddon’s mouth tightened. “Aren’t they all? Just send her off to gather her journey relics like always, but if I can get them away from her, she stays with me, and I get the Avnet, too.”
Mayor grunted in distaste. No wonder his nemesis’ name meant destruction in Hebrew. He opened his mouth to put the rogue in his place then hesitated.
Maybe he could use Abaddon’s plan against him and teach him a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget. A deterrent against future complications. But at what price? Did he really want to potentially position one of his own in harm’s way? No, but assigning his top emissaries to the case would keep her safe. The unsuspecting woman would be fine, and Abaddon would get what he so richly deserved. And it wouldn’t be the Avnet.
Mayor pushed to his feet. “Fine. Do what you have to.” He whirled and threw a scowl over his shoulder, “But you cannot hurt her. I’m warning you.”
“Oh, I won’t.” Abaddon shot him an evil leer. “Not much, anyway.”
Mayor stepped out of the mouth of the cave into the inky darkness. Shadows shifted as he surveyed the area for his adversary’s lurking henchman, but all he saw was a hawk swoop in to snatch up a mouse for dinner. Like Abaddon and the Resistance going after my precious ones.
Would they ever figure out they were no match for him? The outcome remained the same…
He always won.

Order Now!

<< Go Back