The Seven Sins, Joslinne Morgan [good fiction books to read .TXT] 📗

Pike emptied it of its contents and began to fill it with whatever he could fit in. And what wouldn’t fit in the bag fit into his pockets, until there was no possible way he could hold anymore. He put rings on his fingers and bracelets on his wrists, he stuffed his shirt full of pearl strands and filled his shoes with ancient coins. Once he could not fit another thing on his person, Pike cast one last longing glance at all the treasure he would not be able to take and then attempted to stand. It hadn’t occurred to him how much all that gold would actually weigh, and once he had finally managed to stand up he toppled back over the side, the weight of his wealth dragging him down with nothing to hold onto.
His head hit the floor and red pain washed over him. He moaned and closed his eyes, only to have them fly open right after when a voice shrieked, “You greedy little goat! What do you think you are doing?”
Pike tilted his head upwards to see a woman standing over him. A most gorgeous woman. She wore a dress the same shimmery gold as her surroundings, and her hair was adorned with strands of precious jewels. One hand was resting on her hip and the other was resting limply by her side, clutching a bejewled dagger. Pike stared at her for a long moment, but pain forced him to close his eyes again, and he felt a prick against the soft skin of his jaw, as well as a thin line of blood drip down his neck.

Phantom’s ride ended in a hall that was, oddly enough, exactly like the one he had dreamt about the previous night. The walls, emerald green engraved with strange gold runes, held ever-burning torches that blazed green fire in sconces carved to resemble grotesque faces. The hall stretched on forever with no visible end, and behind him was a dead end. There were no doors or openings, and the only way was forward.
Sighing heavily with the realization that he had run out of options, he started walking. There was a slight breeze that caused the torches to flicker, so he knew there had to be an opening somewhere. Meanwhile, the hall never changed. Everything remained the same, even the runes on the wall. If Phantom had bothered to study them he would have realized that they were written in Akli, considered a dead language by most. In its time it had been the main language spoken in Sèntrài, and these particular runes formed a canticle that repeated itself and echoed down the hall wherever it was written, as a ward against mortal intruders.
The runes had no affect against Phantom. To him they were just empty, dead, without any meaning. His mortal body began to shake, jerk, and twitch in odd places, but he had not a mortal soul, so he forced his body to steady itself and continued on his way.
The hall finally ended at a door. As Phantom approached it, he could see that it too, was covered in runes of Akli, but different ones. The door was also protected with numerous glyphs and spells in other languages, some older and forgotten, some newer and considerably less powerful. Again, these had no affect on him, but he still probably couldn’t unlatch the door or pull it open to get in. Luckily he didn’t have to worry about that, the door was wide open, and that was where the breeze was coming from.
After throwing a cautionary spell of protection over himself just in case, he stepped through.
Immediately, his head was filled with thousands of different thoughts at once. He fell to his knees, unaware that he was screaming, and looked around wildly for the source. It was filled with the sounds he remembered from his dream, and they were so loud and so numerous that his head began to hurt and his eyes began to water. Again he looked around, and although his vision was clouded he could still make out the figure of a woman standing nearby. She was dressed head to toe in green. She wore a green sleevless ball gown and had green ribbons braided into her long dark brown hair. He saw her as she approached him, reaching out with one hand for his neck.
“Your necklace,” she breathed. “It’s so beautiful.” There was a pause, and she drew her hand back, her voice now bitter. “You know what all those sounds are?”
Phantom shook his head, relieved to know that she could hear them to and that he wasn’t going crazy. His head was hurting worse than it had in days, and the noise made it impossible for him to sort through his thoughts.
“I have always liked to watch you mortals, and have always envied the things you have. Most of all I’ve wanted your voices. How different they are, varying from woman to man and from man to beast. My voice has always been the same, and it will never change.”
Phantom thought she had a lovely voice, but of course he couldn’t say so. So many words crammed in the back of his throat danced their way onto his tongue, but they struggled to come out all at once and ran into each other, creating a slur of unintelligent speech.
“You have a wonderful voice,” the woman continued. “Young and strong. Once I slip the Mirror from your neck, I can rip your voice from your throat. Won’t that be lovely? Then I can put it in a box like those shiny little baubles in my sister’s collection.” Her green eyes flashed, and she stamped her foot, so hard the ground fairly shook. “Avarice always gets what she wants!”
Phantom struggled to gather his thoughts, but it was impossible. He glanced around the room for any possible means of escape, only then did he noticed that only one end of the room was green. The other end was pure gold.
Another woman stepped into view. She was dressed entirely in gold, and in one hand she carried a dagger while in the other hand she dragged an unconcious Pike by his shirt. She dropped him to the ground with a heavy thud.
“I caught an intruder in my treasury, Envy,” she said.
“And I found the man who has the Mirror of Disillusion, Avarice.” Envy replied.
Envy, Avarice, the sins…
Of course! Phantom knew now what was going on. He closed his eyes, drawing long, slow breaths, and pushed Envy’s spell into the very back of his mind, bringing forth his own thoughts. Envy and Avarice went hand in hand, it only made sense that he would have to face both of them at the same time.
Thoughts sorted once more, he looked up just in time to see Avarice turn to face him, dark fury clouding her features.
“That’s my mirror!” she shrieked. She lunged forward, her long gold nails like unsheathed claws, and Phantom moved away just in time. Her dagger nicked his shoulder, opening the wound he had achieved in the fight with Ralavar, which had until now been healed over. He stood, slipping in his own blood, and began to run. Avarice chased after him, screaming in her rage and frustration. Envy gave an exasperated cry.
“You always get to do the killing, why do I never get to do the killing?” she wailed. She too, lunged forward, but Phantom tripped her and she staggered forward, using her sister to break her fall.
Avarice screamed again and twisted around with uncanny spead, stabbing her sister in the back with her dagger.
“He has my mirror!” she shrieked. “I want back my mirror!”
“It was never your mirror!” Envy wailed, and she grabbed hold of her sister’s throat. Avarice choked and continued to stab her sister. Blood flew everywhere, splattering Phantom across the face as he watched the two sins kill each other. Avarice raised her knife one last time, and at the same time Envy squeezed her hardest. Avarice’s hand came down one last time, and then she died from lack of air. Envy too, died, her sister’s dagger through her heart as she lay in a pool of her own blood.


5
Vanity

“No!” Vanity screamed. “No, no, no! Dead! They’re both dead!”
“I suspected as much,” Lust remarked as she lay draped leisurely over the arms of her master’s throne.
Wrath stomped over to the crystal, fury raging in her eyes.
“The fool,” she spat. “He thinks he’s ridding the world of us, but he is wrong! You can’t kill sin, you can’t kill evil. He may be killing us but if he thinks he is playing hero by ridding the world of all sin he is wrong!”
“He is not trying to play hero,” Lust replied coolly. “He is focused only on self-preservation and his own goals.”
Vanity twisted her beautiful hands and bit her lower lip so hard she nearly drew blood. Everyone knew which Sin Lord Valadik would send out next, if he decided to send out any at all. Even so she prayed that he would not send her, she was simply too young and beautiful to die!
Of course, she thought. If I retrieve the mirror for him, it doesn’t matter how scarred I get in the battle, he will restore my beauty as my reward. Perhaps he shall make me even more beautiful than I am now – if that is possible!
Oh yes, the idea had merit.

First thing Phantom did was tend to his own wounds. He took off his shirt and ripped it into strips, using the cloth first on his forearm and then wrapped it around his hands, which were bleeding from the million tiny jagged cuts they had received during the crawl through the tunnel.
By the time he had finished, Pike was starting to stir. Phantom stuffed the remaining scraps of cloth into his pocket and went over to him. He noticed for the first time how much jewelry Pike was wearing, and how the bag he carried was bulging. Then he understood. Avarice had found Pike in her treasury. He had arrived there a little before Phantom had arrived at Envy, and had been helping himself to the sin’s wealth. The poor bastard.
Pike turned his head to face Phantom and the first thing out of his mouth was; “What happened to your shirt?”
Phantom held out his hands as a reply.
“Oh,” Pike struggled to sit up, jingling like a christmas sleigh. “Dem,” he muttered, feeling about himself. “Forgot I tossed the wine.”
“The last thing you need, my moronic friend, is wine. Tell me, why did you toss the wine in favor of jewels? If we die on this journey of dehydration, none of this wealth shall be of any use to you. Did you think of that, pray tell?”
Pike shook his head shamefully.
“No,” he murmured, looking