Chapter 30: Into the Unknown

Ben's gaze never wavered from the exquisitely carved box, the cold feel of metal on his flesh a shock against the heat searing from his own body. He felt the gentle pulse within, the hum thrumming its beat against his own weakening vigor. Hope hung poised in the air, quiet waiting in the clearing and all such quiet danger would mean.

He palmed the box, turning it over to read the strange markings etched onto its face. Strange and not ones he'd ever read before, elegant and alien, and intolerably familiar. Constriction tightened his gut, a reaction of restraint.

Lilith's voice, cold, crystalline as ice, cut through the quiet. "Open it."

Ben paused, hand on the box. He glanced at Kieran, a mask, his impassive face of detachment. He glanced at Cyrus, and Cyrus offered him a fraction of a moment, a barely perceptible nod, silent communication.

He took a deep breath, focused, connecting with the power that coursed through him. He was not afraid, but wary, sensing danger in the box.

Carefully, he opened the small catch down the side of the box. The lid flew open and a minute crystalline sliver of wood rested in a bed of black velvet. It held an inner light, a low, unearthly glow which seemed to be coming from its very center.

Ben's hand extended, his fingers beyond the shard. He could sense its potential, raw and untrained and full of power equal to his own. It was seductive and awful, a siren's call of power and of destruction.

"What is it?" he whispered, his voice shaking.

Lilith preceded him, silver eyes ablaze with some inner fire that took Ben's breath away. "Part of your heritage," she murmured, her voice low and husky. "A piece of power borrowed from your people."

Ben's heart pounded against the shape of his chest. He'd heard tales of his kind, of the great wolves hunted down and killed. He'd felt the strength of their power inside him, a power to be tapped.

"What do I do with it?" he roared, looking at the shard that throbbed.

"Claim it," Lilith ordered. "Claim it as your own."

Ben hesitated, his gaze shifting back and forth from the shard to Lilith. He believed in her, but he knew this was a test, one that would stretch him to the breaking point.

"What will it do?" he questioned warily.

"That is your choice," Lilith told him, her face impassive. "It will increase your power or kill you."

Ben's hand clasped the box. He was taking a chance, betting with potentially disastrous consequences. But he also knew he was not going to be able to turn around now. He had come too far, endured too much, to be controlled by fear.

He reached out and placed a hand on it, his hand closing around the crystal shard. Cold to the touch, but he could feel an inner power that seemed to sear through his skin. Closing his eyes, he breathed slowly, sensing the power coursing through him.

A surge of power swelled in him, feral and unchecked strength that was bold enough to consume him. He gritted his teeth, struggling against himself, compelling himself to sense his connection to the shard, to the power that held them as one.

The shard became brighter, light fledging up to be a blaze of unadulterated light. Ben's pain was fire, hot as the flame, burning that flowed through his veins, leaving him to ash alive both inside and out. He screamed, his body contorting, muscles spasming.

He was being pulled away from himself, his own self re-shaped, re-made. He was going to lose himself, be engulfed by the raw power running through him.

And then it changed. There was calm over him, a tranquility that emerged deep inside him. He could feel the power of the shard blending with his own, one to be him, an extension of him.

The light dissipated, the power stopped. Ben's eyes leaped open, his body quivering in horror at what he had just seen. He looked down at his hands, hoping to find something different from what they normally showed, but they were normal.

He looked over at Lilith, her expression one of relief and victory. "Well?" he begged, his throat parched.

Lilith's smile was not usual, and it revealed a great deal. "You passed," she said. "You are closer to realizing your full potential."

Cyrus smiled. "Open it."

Ben lifted the latch, and removed the lid.

Energy exploded out, hitting him in the middle as if something tangible had struck him. His knees went weak, his lungs failed to function, and he was somewhere else than in the glade.

He was surrounded by darkness.

Ben swallowed hard, his muscles tightening as he stood in some place he didn't know. The air clung to him, heavy with a non-human energy that pulsed in his bones. The sky above the wrong color, the violet black striped with veins of silver lightning.

He spun, taking in his surroundings. He alone.

Or at least he thought so.

A voice boomed out of the darkness. "You finally arrived."

Ben's blood went cold and weighted. The voice was unrecognizably awful, but one he'd never used before.

He spun around—and stopped.

Standing in front of him was himself.

Or so it would have seemed. The man was his face, his build, his posture, but something was amiss with him. His eyes blazed like hot golden fire, and his face twisted into something filthy—something bestial.

The other Ben sneered. "You're not ready."

Ben's fists were closed. "What is this?"

The doppelganger tilted his head. "This is the part of you that you've been keeping on the lowdown. The one that you've been too scared to release."

Ben's mouth was dry. "You're lying."

The other Ben smiled. "Am I?" He stepped forward, the ground groaning beneath his feet. "You sensed it, didn't you? That tug? That hunger? The power that you have is not something to be restrained. It's something that needs to be released."

Ben shook his head. "I control my power. It does not control me."

The golden-eyed double Ben smiled. "You actually think that. But when the time comes, when the actual battle is presented, do you think you'll be able to resist?"

Ben's breathing became more difficult. "I'll never turn out like you."

The double Ben's smile became even broader. "We shall see."

He hit him with a sudden blow.

Ben barely had time to respond as a tide of unyielding strength swept over him and he slid along ripped ground. Double up, gritting his teeth and hauling himself up onto the edge of standing at his black twin's doorway.

Instinct flared to the surface. Ben ducked, his magic catching up, but quicker was the other Ben. Ben hit him with a cruel backhand punch that sent Ben to the ground.

Ben emitted a gurgling gasp, his blood-covered taste buds screaming. He struggled to stand, flailing wildly.

He was not going to lose. By himself.

Ben's magic stalled, his own fighting him. War broke out.