Jack Staples and the City of Shadows by Mark Batterson Page B

was as if the jewels and gold were covering something dark and sinister. The shadows at the periphery of Alexia’s vision were darker than they should have been; they almost seemed to be moving.
    Her father opened the door. “He is my lord and master and the father of all. You have called him Assassin, but I call him King.” Korah bowed low, but Alexia began to whimper. Standing in the entry was a man in a white cloak. Darkness radiated from him, and his skin sparkled like diamonds. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat, and each fingernail was overly long and lacquered in multiple colors. In place of his eyes were endless caverns of fire.
    â€œHello, Alexia.” The Assassin’s voice was jarring, like two forms of music clashing. “I have been wanting to meet you for a very long time.”
    Alexia hadn’t realized she’d been moving until she felt the wall against her back. “Father, no!” she shouted. “He’s the one who sent the Shadule! He is the reason our house was burned and you and Mother died … or”—she glanced at her father—“at least, the reason Mother died!” She was shaking. The Assassin now stood directly in front of her, and her father merely watched.
    â€œAlexia,” her father said, “the old woman and the witch have been lying to you. They are the ones who burned our house that day. They are the ones who killed your mother.”
    She shook her head. “No! Father, it’s not true! You must believe me! When I fought the Shadule in Agartha, it told me it killed you. It told me it burned our house!”
    â€œAnd yet here I am, alive and well.” Her father held out his hands as if in proof. “The Shadule are simple creatures and often struggle with our language. I am here right now and I am telling you it was Mrs. Dumphry and Elion who killed your mother. They tried to kill me as well, but I escaped. I’ve spent these last years doing nothing but search for you.”
    â€œMy lady,” the Assassin said in the voice of a freshly dug grave, “you must know that you are special. I have not brought you here to hurt you, but to give you the honor you deserve. You will never have to run again. You will never need to humble yourself before anyone. My darling Alexia”—the Assassin’s smile didn’t reach his flaming eyes—“you have finally come home.” He held out a hand. “Come, and I will show you the greatest city in the world.”
    Alexia couldn’t stop shaking. She wanted to retch at the sickly sweet smell that engulfed him. She shook her head but couldn’t find a coherent thought. But when she looked at her father, he nodded encouragingly.
    â€œMy lady, I want to show you the city because it is my gift to you,” the Assassin said. “Everything I have is yours. Every gemstone in this city belongs to you. Every slave will live or die at your command.”
    Alexia’s father smiled as she took hold of the Assassin’s hand. Something inside her screamed that it was wrong, but she shoved the feeling down. There was a small part of her that didn’t care. She was with her father, and she was so tired of running. As the Assassin’s hand wrapped around hers, the putrid smell made it hard to breathe.
    The Assassin escorted her to the balcony, where he threw back the curtains. When she saw the city, Alexia started to scream—it was more evil than anything she could have imagined. Everywhere she looked were monsters and horrors beyond belief; it was a city of shadows and nightmares. Alexia felt the world slip away as she fainted at the Assassin’s feet.
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    The fighting was over. The small band of Awakened still lived, though all were injured and in low spirits, in spite of the fact that Aias and Elion had managed to dispatch two Shadule. Alexia had been taken, and no one had seen Wild since the battle started in the courtyard.
    They