by Sela Croft
Instead of talking to me, the males spoke to each other. From their interchange, I determined that the handsome teenager was named Kronid, and the blond was Zephyr. If names could be trusted, that implied they were gods.
They had appeared out of thin air and created their own forms. If that wasn’t godlike, I didn’t know what was. Yet I wasn’t reassured. Their arrival had severed my abilities, and they were obviously powerful.
The situation was frightening. The men, or whatever they were, could do anything to me, and I had no idea how to block them. If only they would talk to me, possibly I could figure a way out of this.
“What do you want?” I said, trying to sound confident.
The two ignored my question, as if I hadn’t spoken. Zephyr examined me a little closer, and I looked into his blue eyes. “What are you?” he said.
That was an unusual question indeed.
“I am a woman.” I swallowed. “Well…a vampire, if that’s what you’re asking.”
The two whispered about that for a moment, seemingly unconcerned that I was waiting.
“Tell me what you want with me?” Still there was no reply to my question. They seemed to have selective hearing.
“But she looks like a fragile maiden,” Kronid said, then reached out. His motion was so fast that it was nearly instant, so I had no chance to move back. Claws extended from his fingertips, and he raked the sharp points down my cheek.
Alarmed, I reached up and put my palm over the stinging skin. I was bleeding.
“She’s real,” Kronid said.
“But she looks as if she might break.” Zephyr leaned over me, studying me like a specimen in a jar.
I didn’t like this at all. One had already drawn blood, so what was next? They seemed unconcerned about my reaction, or about me at all. The gods were curious. They were like two cats with a ball of yarn, intrigued by how it unraveled.
I failed to understand why I held such fascination. Poking and prodding me appeared to be a game to them. But I wasn’t a toy, so had to hold my ground.
“Don’t touch me again,” I said. “Please state your business.” I thought of leaving but had no confidence that I could get past them.
“Why do you wish to dethrone the king?” Kronid said, then tipped his head. His wavy brown hair ruffled in an unseen breeze.
“What?”
“You can tell us,” Zephyr said, his blue eyes sparkling.
“I wish no such thing,” I said, annoyed. “And it’s not your business anyway.”
Kronid didn’t react to me; instead, he turned to his companion. “I heard Alban talking to the witch when we left.”
Zephry nodded. “I am not mistaken. The king wants Mirela.”
They knew my name. That severely rattled me. Where had they gotten their information? It seemed that they’d been to the royal palace.
“I’m right here, you know. You can speak to me.” But I didn’t have their attention.
Kronid frowned. “I wonder why the king is so bent out of shape about this fragile woman.”
“Maybe she’s a sorceress, too, like the other one,” Zephyr said. “We could take her with us and find out what makes her tick.”
My pulse pounded in my ears. That was all I needed—for them to take me away and examine me like some alien form.
“Stop talking about me as if I’m not here,” I said. But my annoyance didn’t distract the gods from their conversation. I felt like a child in the presence of parents discussing my welfare, without consulting me.
It occurred to me that I didn’t mean anything to these gods. They were merely trying to solve a mystery, and it had something to do with Alban.
“You’re ignoring me,” I said, “as if I’m not worthy of participating in the discussion—about my future, I might add.” Their rudeness had made me cross.
“I find this very strange,” Kronid said. “The king begs us to get involved in his war. But what I’d like to know is why he’s frothing at the mouth about Mirela.”
I had to get their attention if I had any hope of resolving things and getting free of them. If they remained disturbed by me, they might very well whisk me away for further study.
“It would be satisfying to know what she is capable of,” Zephyr said. “Shall we test?”
Oh, god. “No! Please!”
I’d piqued their interest; the gods peered at me, puzzled.
“For some reason, you have the idea that I wish to overthrow the king, that I am a threat to him,” I said. “But you don’t seem all that interested in the war. So, I’ll assume that you’re just trying to figure all of this out.”
It was a game to them; that much had become clear.
“I assure you that I am not intent on destroying the king.” I had to stick to my principles and tell them the truth as best I knew it. “The king lobbies for death, and that is not sustainable. I support the factions that protect immortality.”
“But Alban sees you as a threat, and is especially keen to capture you,” Zephyr said. “You must be special, only…I don’t see how.”
“Well…you see…there was a prophecy.”
The gods listened.
“An ancient prophecy foretold that I would be queen of the realm, beside Draven as king.” I took a breath. “I suppose it’s that simple.”
The gods had gone quiet.
I lifted my chin and squared my shoulders. “Why is it your business, anyway?”
A low growl rumbled in Kronid’s chest, and I feared that I’d overstepped the limits I hadn’t been informed of. I hadn’t spoken directly to gods before, so didn’t know the protocol. Fear riddled my belly, but I refused to show it.
It was no surprise that neither answered my challenging question. “You seem almost human,” Kronid said. “It’s abhorrent, all that emotion and compassion.”
“I resent that,” I said. “Gentleness is not weakness. It can make the world a better place.”
“You don’t admit that you are after the king’s throne?” Zephyr said in a deep voice.
“Destiny calls, and I don’t know for sure where it will lead me,” I said. “But Alban started all this trouble, not me.”
Zephyr looked at Kronid and, after a beat, he said, “Do you suppose that she’s lying to us?”
My heart skipped a beat. Had I done that badly at stating my case? “I am telling you the truth!”
The handsome gods shifted and changed. Their pleasant images turned into horrible ones. They were emaciated men, with their ribs sticking out. Their stringy gray hair hung past their waists. Their skin was so white it was translucent, and their pastel-blue eyes had dark circles under them, as if they hadn’t slept in centuries.
Their black silk robes blew open as a heavy wind whipped through the room. Their fingers were bony, with long, sharp black fingernails, and their puffy red lips foretold of putrid death. The two gods seethed with hatred, their facade of politeness gone.
Then they lurched for me…but vanished into thin air before they struck. Whatever reason they had appeared, the swift departure signified that they were done. I slumped to the floor in relief. My breathing was rapid and my hands sweaty, but I felt my strength returning.
The ballroom was empty and quiet again. I tried to regain my composure, unclear on what had just happened. Calina was somewhere nearby. I needed to get to her; she might know what to make of all of this. I raced from the room, then went directly to the library.
Calina wasn’t there, and she wasn’t in the garden, either. What if something had happened to her? I grabbed the first servant I saw and learned that she’d gone up to the tower. I levitated up the stairs and found her alone.
“Calina?”
She turned. “Mirela…what’s happened? You have scratches on your cheek. And you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Something like that.” Breathlessly, I spilled out the details of my encounter.
When I began to describe the two males, Calina paled. “You were visited by
the dark gods…Kronid and Zephyr?”
“So it would seem. They are dark gods?”
“Yes, they are. How did you manage to attract their attention?”
“I might ask the same question.” I paced the stone floor. “In fact, I did ask. But they weren’t inclined to give me answers. Most of the time, they talked to each other and ignored me.”
“You should be glad of that.” Calina frowned. “Theirs is the kind of attention you should wish to avoid.”
“I certainly didn’t invite them in,” I said. “They just appeared.”
“Obviously, they know about you,” Calina said.
“That was the most alarming part,” I said. “They sought me out.” I expelled a breath. “It seems wherever I turn, someone knows about me. I seem to be the center of attention, when it’s the last thing I want to be.”
“I predicted that you’d continue to be a target.”
I dug my hand in my hair. “It’s frustrating. But…I am learning.”
Calina raised her brows. “What have you learned?”
“There was a time when I wouldn’t have said this, a time when I saw only the best in people. But I’m no longer naïve about the ways of the world. Many are not trustworthy, and others are not of pure intent.”
“I certainly cannot argue that.”
“Even the gods can be immoral and support the aims of death,” I said. “For I fear that the two I just met are inclined in Alban’s favor.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the king has worshipped them, to gain their allegiance.” Calina sighed. “That’s all we need, for the gods to fight on Alban’s side.”
“If the gods are bad, then where does that leave us?”
Calina shook her head. “Not all the gods are bad; some are good.”
“I pray that they support us in our fight against pain and punishment,” I said. “Death cannot be allowed to swamp all goodness, all of life.”
“That is why you’re here, Mirela. That is what the prophecy is all about.” Calina hesitated. “If you are to rule by Draven’s side—to protect immortality, as he as set out to do—then you must make that happen.”
The magnitude of the task weighed heavily on my shoulders. To achieve that aim was going to take more than vampire strength or sorceress tricks. It was going to take something more. I only hoped that when the time came…I had that something.
Chapter 15 – Draven
My men were recovering from the poison, but those in the field hadn’t been so lucky. The Dark Fighters had found a weakness. If my soldiers could be taken out of action, even briefly, then they were unable to defend against decapitation—the ultimate death.
Poison in the water had been disastrous for us. I’d lost too many men. The medics had tended to those who had been ill, and they’d recovered. But that didn’t make up for the casualties. Silvain didn’t fight by facing my army. He preferred guerilla methods, which were effective.
I’d been delayed at headquarters, so I could deal with the matter. Our factions shouldn’t be vulnerable to such tactics. Security was in place, but it had failed. I could only assume that there were soldiers within our ranks working for the enemy.
Once the ill were cared for, I didn’t some investigation. Then I called a private meeting. When I stepped into the war room, I saw that General Clay had already arrived. He was the senior officer in the ranks.
Clay had been with me for as long as we’d been fighting the war. He was a superb Guardian warrior, skilled in our methods, including emitting bolts of light from his palms. I kept his focus on strategy and managing the troops, because he was especially skilled in that regard.
“The others will be here in a moment,” I said. The general stood, as he had a habit of doing, which showed his size. He was seven feet tall, broad and muscled. His forearms were as thick as some others’ biceps. He was of mixed blood, which accounted for his physical uniqueness.
Clay had darker skin and more prominent cheekbones. He wore his dark hair buzzed so that it stuck out from his head at his skull and extended to his shoulders like a fur cap. His eyes were a blue so dark that they looked black.
If I was the enemy, I wouldn’t want to meet Clay on the field. He understood battle and what it took to win, so he was an excellent choice as my top general.
I took a seat at the long table, mentally preparing what I was going to say. Then my comrades entered. Quin came in first and sat next to me. Jon and Spence sat across the table. “We’re ready to begin,” Clay said, then looked at me.
“You’re aware of Silvain’s underhanded tactics,” I said.
Quin leaned forward. “He won’t fight face to face, but is intent on picking us off a few at a time.”
“It’s pissing me off,” Jon said, and Spence nodded.
“There is a matter I wish to discuss,” I said, then waited until I had their attention. “I suspect betrayal.”
That was met with silence.
Then Clay spoke up. “That thought has crossed my mind as well. It’s no simple matter to sabotage our supplies. Our security is tight. The enemy can’t just waltz into camp and dump poison into the water.”
“Good point,” Quin said.
“The water in the castle city is clean,” I said. “When the troops leave, they have good water. Yet somewhere out in the field the deed is perpetrated, and the poison filtered into the supply.”
“We will need to weed out the traitor,” Quin said. “Any ideas? Has anything else suspicious been happening?”
I looked to Clay. “You have your nose in internal affairs. What’s your take on this?”
Clay took a moment to think that over. “I wouldn’t assume it’s a soldier in the ranks. It could be a lieutenant, or as high up as one of your generals.”
I raised my brows. “That surprises me. You deal with the others routinely. Wouldn’t you have spotted any dissension?”
“Not necessarily,” Clay said. “An officer that high in the ranks would have resources, and he would be smart enough not to get caught…until now.”
“What do you propose?” Quin said.
“I think it’s best if you don’t act any differently,” Clay said. “Go about your business as usual. Let me look into it. I know what I’m looking for, and I’ll report back with anything I find.”
“I’ll go along with that,” I said. “And be aware that the traitor you discover may have betrayed us before. There was the matter of that spy who infiltrated and almost got away with military secrets.”
“Yes, I have that in mind,” Clay said. “If the leak is someone in authority, then we must find out who it is without delay. More damage could be done in ways we cannot predict.”
“You have my approval,” I said. “You’re dismissed to carry on with your duties.”
When Clay left, I turned to my comrades. “If anyone can track down a traitor, it’s Clay. While we leave him to that duty, we cannot dally. Silvain is chipping away at our troops, and Alban is mounting an attack he is confident will give him victory.”
“We’ll meet with our lieutenants,” Quin said, then looked at the other two. “Your army won’t let you down, traitor or not. It will take more than that to be our undoing.”
My comrades left, and I sat at the table staring at the iron door. I had the best men on my side. Centuries of experience had honed our fighting skills and developed new ones.
The forces against me were formidable. I would need all my resources to achieve the goal and save the kingdom from treachery. In the end, the burden of responsibility fell on me, as I was the leader. I swore I wouldn’t fail, yet I would be foolish not to consider what I was up against.
At the castle, I wanted to see how Mirela had fared in my absence, but didn’t find her in any of the usual places. A servant had seen her go up to the tower, so I went directly there. She was with Calina, so she must have gotten my message. “I’m sorry that I was away so long. There were complications.”
By the looks on their fa
ces, I could tell they’d been discussing something important. “Am I interrupting?”
Mirela came to me and wrapped her arms around my waist. “I’m so glad to see you.”
It was nice to be missed, but I feared that something had occurred in my absence. “What’s happened?” I said. The ring on her finger sparkled, reminding me of the commitment between us. A twinge of regret made me wonder if I’d done the right thing after all. Had I only succeeded in placing her in more danger?
Mirela appeared to be at a loss.
“She had a visit from the dark gods,” Calina said.
I was stunned. “How? Where?”
“I was on the terrace in the ballroom when they appeared,” Mirela said. “I hadn’t known they existed.” Then she proceeded to tell me the story in complete detail.
“That is bad…very bad.” I went over to the parapet and glanced into the distance, feeling shaken. Then I turned to look at Mirela. “I can protect you, but…not from the gods.”
“I was frightened; I admit that,” Mirela said. “But if they wanted to harm me, they would have. It seemed that they were…curious.”
“Alban has been doing his dirty work,” Calina said. “He has contacted them and aroused their interest in our affairs.”
“Can we not make a plea to the kinder gods?” Mirela said.
I shook my head. “The gods expect us to fight our own battles. Whatever support they may offer will be of their choosing. A plea to place victory in our laps would only annoy them.”
“Yet Alban has the gall to do just that,” Calina said.
My sister was right. The king had committed an act that few would have the guts to do. He’d asked his dark gods to usher him to victory. The dark ones had a vested interest in death, just as the king did.
I was disturbed by what had happened to Mirela. Despite all my efforts to keep her safe, danger still found her. I could barricade the city, but that wouldn’t keep the gods out. I felt sick that such forces had been called forth, so hated the king even more.
