She closed the bedroom door behind her and paced down the hall towards the council chambers.
In a dark enclave nearby, eyes tracked the Princess’ movements, hungry eyes that swept from her head to her toes. The shadow swept from one enclave to another, keeping pace but leaving distance between them. Teeth glimmered in a toothy smile as the creature melded into the shadow cast by a nearby pot plant.
Sybell paused at the doors to the council chamber, the murmured sounds of people talking within. Her shoulders dropped slightly, and the creature could smell she sweetness of the blood rising in the woman’s cheeks. Sybell sighed and stood tall, fortifying her walls before entering the room and disappearing into the sounds within.
Tongue skimming its teeth, the shadow vibrated with anticipation.
Soon.
Soon it would feast.
~~~
“Is the Commander married?” asked Arii as she mucked the stalls with the other recruits. It had been some time since she had caught up with the trio, and even though the work was not what she would call enjoyable, nor was it necessary now that she was working with Elijah, but Arii decided to join them shortly after her training that morning. She was curious about what she had witnessed the night before, and hoped the recruits may be able to shed some light on the situation.
Tikkani paused as she speared a shovel into a fresh pile of horse dung. Her nose wrinkled with displeasure, and she tossed her hair over her shoulder before wiping her sleeve across her brow, her golden uptilted eyes narrowing.
“No, I do not believe so, why? Thinking of propositioning the Commander?” Her grin was wicked as she added, “He is handsome… for an old man.”
Arii rolled her eyes. “No, you pixie eared fool. I was merely curious.”
Tikkani chuckled and tossed the dung into a nearby crate. The gardeners would distribute the foul stuff over the gardens later. Tikkani grunted, spearing another mound before speaking.
“I did hear that he once had a relationship with the King’s Mother, back when they were younger and before she was married off to Valdis Kruel. Poor woman.”
Well then, it seems a spark remained. If what Arii witnessed in the guest room was anything to go by. She felt sorry for the pair, and admired Lynnera’s tenacity, as well as her sense of duty. She would rather bruises at the hand of her husband than to be silenced in her opinions.
Arii almost wondered why Lynnera had not learned to use a dagger, taking advantage of Hawke’s skills, and use them to lodge the blade deep in that bastard’s chest.
Arii would, but she was a cold-blooded killer.
Emerson joined the duo as Tikkani opened her mouth and cussed like a filthy sailor from Trader’s Bay. Arii winced in sympathy as Emerson smacked his shovel against Tikkani’s butt and she yelped, whirling on him.
“Godsdammit Emer!”
“What is with Valdis Kruel anyway? The man seems to have a constant thorn up his arse,” said Arii, a grin plastering her face as they continued.
Emerson glanced to Arii as he speared the shovel into a pile of horse droppings. “I heard he wasn’t treated well as a child.” He frowned and lifted the full shovel. “Abused at the hands of his own father. I guess a childhood like that would leave a lasting impression. His father was said to be a real sadist – and he supported the old ways.”
“Old ways?” enquired Arii, pausing.
“Yeah, you know – death to all magic users and all that kind of toss. There was a lot of fear back then, and Urther Kruel was the instigator of much of the murdering,” Tikkani supplied.
“It’s surprising, Lorch is nothing like his father,” mused Arii.
Tikkani and Emerson exchanged a look and held it for a few moments, as if speaking to one another without words. Arii paused in her shovelling and stared as the two broke eye contact and continued their work.
“Okay, what was that?”
Emerson glanced her way. “What was what?” he hedged. At Arii’s weighted, unblinking stare, the boy began to flounder. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Arii.”
Hmm, perhaps he was becoming immune to her glares.
“Come on, you two stare at each other like you’re having a silent conversation. I’ve seen it at least five times now.”
Tikkani paused in her work and propped up the shovel, leaning against it. “Fine, if you must know, we can speak to one another… with our minds.” She gestured from her head to Emerson’s. “Perks of being twins I guess, although I think Emerson would rather it was not so.”
“You have no idea Arii, the constant dribble that inhabits her mind! Gods above!” groaned the boy.
“Hey, you don’t exactly have a five-star show happening in your own head, you little shit.”
“Shut up!”
The twins stared at one another for a long moment, eyes unblinking, and Arii did not have to guess that they were arguing telepathically.
“That’s bloody awesome,” She breathed.
The twins gazed her way and they seemed to become abashed at the same time.
“I guess it is kind of good sometimes,” admitted Tikkani. “We can talk in private about anything, even when we are in a group of many.”
Arii imagined the team they would make on a battlefield, looking out for each other’s backs without giving away anything to the enemy. Fascinating. Until now she believed such a trait to be a myth, then again not many twins still existed.
“So, what were you saying before you revealed that little bit of information?” Arii asked, lifting a shovel load.
“Emerson seems to think you have a thing for the King,” giggled Tikkani.
Arii paused halfway through flinging the dung into the crate. Her eyes darted to Emerson, and she swore she saw the boy’s knees begin to quake.
“I did not! Tikkani said that, I swear.”
Arii diverted her gaze to Tikkani, who was grinning mischievously. “Come on Arii, you’ve been spending an awful amount of time with him, after all. And Gods, he is one divine piece of man flesh.”
“Argh, did you just say man flesh?” groaned Emerson.
Arii could feel her blood beginning to boil, but it was quickly simmering as she realised the twins were joking. She had to get a hold of herself. To react to little pokes like that would do more harm than good. Besides, she did not have a thing for the King.
That was preposterous.
“You talking about me?” came a voice from nearby. “I heard mention of divine man flesh,” said Quinn, entering carrying two empty crates.
“Gods no!” replied Tikkani, flinging her shovel load of dung at Quinn. The boy screamed, dropping the crates and ducking quickly, narrowly avoiding a face full of crap.
He stood, eyes wide, before flipping a crude gesture the elf’s way. Quinn huffed and retrieved the crates, setting them down near the others. He dusted hay from his messy locks and grabbed his own shovel.
“So, what’d I miss?”
“We were just discussing the lovely family occupying the castle currently,” Tikkani replied.
“More friendliness at a funeral,” Quinn chuckled, and glanced around quickly as if he expected Sybell Kruel to leap out of the nearby bushes and scowl at him.
“Do any of you know what the original royal family was like?” Arii asked, spearing a stack of hay with a pitchfork and distributing the golden strands across the floor.
“No idea, but I do know there are books still in the library about them. I’m surprised the Kruel family didn’t have them removed,” Emerson replied, wiping his brow. “I heard the Herington family were Fae.”
Arii glanced up at Emerson. “Truly?”
“Yes, but it was said that the bloodline was so diluted that they hardly had a spark of the old magic left. There were no signs of the madness in Tyverus Hering
ton, despite being a Fae and one of the last males, along with his two sons. It’s incredibly sad what happened to them.” Emerson frowned and continued to shovel hay.
“Do you think it’s true that magic in Fae males leads to madness?” asked Tikkani.
Arii shrugged as she replied, “It’s hard to know. All we have to go on are diluted manuscripts of history – as there are no male Fae left to ask.”
Emerson nodded, “They say hundreds of years ago, there were many male Fae with incredible magic, magic that shook the land to its very core. The royal family in the North in particular fought on the backs of mighty dragons.” Emerson lifted his hand and dipped and dove, spearing through the air. “The dragons were said to feed off the magic of their riders, making them incredibly strong. It also bonded them, riders to dragons. Without powerful magic though, the dragons could not survive. That is why there are none now, I guess. Powerful magic disappears, so do the dragons. As for the madness? I suppose with so much power there could be a little bit of madness.” Emerson shrugged and gripped his shovel.
“The Herington’s didn’t have dragons, though, did they?” asked Quinn.
“No, the last dragons disappeared before Tyverus took the throne,” said Emerson, digging his shovel into another stack.
“Gods I’d love to see a real live dragon,” mused Tikkani wistfully, leaning her cheek against the handle of her shovel. Slowly her features twitched as she added, “But instead, we got stuck with those disgusting hybrids. Fuck, I hate Kryverns.”
Emerson smacked his shovel against Tikkani’s causing the end to slide out from beneath her and her stance to falter.
“You little dung beetle!” she hissed at her brother, righting herself.
Arii chewed her lip absentmindedly, deep in thought as the group continued their work in silence.
It had been twenty-two years since the night of the royal family’s slaughter in this very castle. Five lives, along with loyal castle staff, had ended so violently that the Three Fates themselves avoided talking about the event. She wondered what they would be like if they lived today, what the land would be like under their reign.
What would their children be like?
Ghila, Brohem and Eliverus. Three young lives ended before they had truly begun, all because humans feared their potential magic and madness.
Later that evening, as she sat on her bed before a crackling hearth, something pressed at her mind, the shadow of a memory. Her fingers ran across Lorch’s glimmering gold thread as she stared absentmindedly into the flames, watching the fire lick hungrily across the wood. The smell of the fire pulled at a memory as her eyes drifted shut, her finger looping the golden thread through her fingers.
“I’ll explain soon, little Violet. I promise,” her mother gasped and continued their escape through the forest. Arii bounced on her mother’s hip as they fled through the forest, the sounds of distant screams in their wake.
“Mama, please! Where is Papa? I want Papa!”
“Ariiaya, please my darling, keep your voice down.”
“I want Papa!” she screamed again, wriggling like a worm in her mother’s grasp.
“Arii, stop,” begged her mother as they fled, stumbling on a log.
Suddenly an arrow whistled past her head and her mother cried out in alarm. Then, another and another whizzed past them as she ran, holding Arii tight to her chest.
Arii’s eyes were wide, frightened as she saw the shadows of their pursuers over her mother’s shoulder.
“Halt!” a male voice called in the distance.
Next thing Arii knew her mother was falling; hands were grabbing at them and Arii was screaming in terror. Hands clasped around her middle, and she felt as if the world were spinning.
“Let go of my daughter!” her mother hissed, and through her terror Arii saw she clutched a sizable rock in her hands. The woman brought the rock down on her pursuer’s head with a sickening crack, and the man slumped against Arii’s little form. Blood glittered against Arii’s cheeks, crimson flecks dotting her eyelashes. The man was wearing armour but not a helmet, and he was not moving anymore. Quickly, her mother grabbed Arii, pulling her into a run.
“Mama, why are those men trying to get us?”
“My darling, please just keep running.”
“Tell me Mama!”
Her mother was silent for a time as they ran, ducking below low hanging branches as they entered thicker forest.
“They got into the castle, my love, they have assassinated the King.”
~~~
Things only became more interesting after Arii’s late night realisation.
Firstly, she had been there the night of the Herington family’s murder, she was almost certain of it, lest her mind played tricks. She did not remember much of her time before growing up in Evergrave with her mother, and she was sure that the traumatising nature of the memories were hindering their clear recall.
Secondly, there were whispers of strange sounds coming from parts of the castle.
Arii’s ears pricked as she helped herself to some sweetcakes and tea in the kitchens. Maids spoke in whispers to one another in the corner of the kitchen as they washed dishes.
Had Arii not had Fae hearing, she would have missed their hushed conversation entirely.
“Marg says she heard groans from the west wing the other night. I don’ mean normal groans, ya know, I mean real strange inhuman sounds of something in pain.”
“Was Marg gettin’ into the wine again? She likes a little, you know,” The maid pinched her fingers and made a motion of bringing a glass to her lips. “A bit too much.”
“Nah, she said she was completely sober that night, truly.”
“Hard to believe.”
“I believe her, the look in her eyes showed no lies.”
“I wonder what it could be,” mused the woman as they scrubbed pots, then proceeded to gossip about things of no interest to Arii. She tuned out their voices before taking her haul back to her room.
Making her way down the golden halls, Arii balanced her tray on one hand and popped a little cake in her mouth with the other as she strode along. Feeling surprisingly light despite the servant’s gossip and her own revelation, she was looking forward to sitting on her bed with her meal and a copy of Recent Royal Histories she had swiped from the library earlier that day. Determined now to learn more about the night the Herington family died, she hoped the book would shed a little bit of light.
“Oh, thank goodness!” a woman called as she ran towards her.
Arii suppressed a groan. “Oh for the love of-”
“Miss, you are a guard, are you not? Oh please, please come with me.” The woman looked dishevelled and upset. Arii sighed, figuring it best she not hiss and shoo the woman away if she was supposed to be a guard. She placed her tray on a hallway table adorned with a vase of agapanthus and nodded to the woman.
“How can I be of assistance?”
The woman motioned for her to follow and Arii did as bid, following the woman as she opened the door to the crisp night air.
“I found something, Miss. I thought it best to alert a guard before disturbing His Highness. I… I do not know who it is, but I came out for some fresh air and found him just behind the geranium bushes. Oh, oh Gods.”
Arii felt her hairs begin to stand on end. Something? Or someone? They paused by a thick garden bed of green shrubbery, and Arii’s breath left her lungs in a whoosh. Poking out just visible of the bushes were a pair of feet.
The stench followed soon after. Arii’s gag reflex rose swiftly but she stamped it down.
What the hell…
Arii spoke swiftly to the maid. “Thank you, Miss. Would you mind fetching Elijah, he’s the-”
“The King’s bodyguard, of course.” The woman spun and fled back to the ca
stle.
Arii watched her go, before she squatted by the body and surveyed what she could see in the darkness. The skin of the man’s shoeless feet was as pale as chalk, leached of the warm glow of life, unwrinkled and dirty, his legs skinny and bony. As she glanced at the torso, she paused on the man’s servant uniform, before fixing on his chest. His pale servant’s tunic was ripped open and the skin from his chest to neck was torn to ribbons, exposing ribcage and muscle. His face was turned to the side, his mouth hanging slack and eyes rolled back into his skull.
This man, whoever he was, had died terribly, and Arii had a feeling this mutilation had been done while he was alive. She wondered how no one had heard his screams.
Perhaps he was the cause of the sounds Marg had heard?
Her scrutinization lingered on the man’s skin around the wound on his chest, where the flesh seemed to glitter with tiny shards of crystal, as if something were infused with the very fibres of his skin. Arii’s nose twitched as she noticed the man’s ribcage was ruptured, and within the chest cavity…
“His heart is missing…”
His deep, smooth voice graced the air behind her. She stood slowly, glancing to her right as Elijah paused beside her, staring down at the corpse.
“What kind of creature would do this?” she whispered.
Elijah’s hood was pushed back, his dark locks wavering in the light night breeze. His silver eyes were fixed on the body as he spoke. “Nothing I have ever witnessed.”
They stood in silence, both minds whirling for an answer. Arii sneaked a glance at Elijah’s strong profile, the hard lines of his face and noticed the crease between his brows.
“We should tell Lorch,” she said gently.
“He is aware, he is gathering in the royal ballroom as we speak.” Elijah’s gaze met hers as he tilted his head. His eyes were like quicksilver, glittering in the moonlight.
“Come, we must attend.”
Love, Blood & Fury Page 22
