by Keri Salyers
Silence reigned for a bit as Devi paced around my house like a trapped dog, Eleanor eyeing him the entire time. Ian was still fully invested in my laptop. He’d probably know more about it than I before nightfall. I fidgeted in my seat, wondering if I was being a bad hostess and if I truly cared about being a good one. Our game plan was set for tomorrow and that left… one heckuva long day to contend with. Conversation! I should probably try that.
When I opened my mouth it wasn’t the cheesy ‘what a day this has been, right’ that filled the room, it was a nasty grating sound of stone on metal. We all looked at its source, even Ian craned his head around. Cenav had removed his amulet and sat where earlier my swirling vortex of a portal had been. He was running a whet stone along the edge of his blade with a look of consternation. He rolled his shoulders a couple times, either out of pleasure at no longer being shackled with a weak human set or from residual pain after his confrontation with Ian and Devi.
Now I know what you’re thinking—Cen is Sarkkrai right? Why’s he being all nice and cooperative? Not biting off the heads of lesser creatures and threatening everyone else right? Isn’t that something Sarkkrai are predisposed for? He is not even at all upset over the devastating loss! Oh, but trust me he is. He is just trained to not show it. And as far as the docile act, it is only fooling one of us—Eleanor. The part of him that is me is smart, time-biding, patient; it’s the Sarkkrai in him that is fuming. And it’s the Sarkkrai part that merits the name destroyer.
“Your son has been rising alarmingly fast amongst the ranks of Rakmorath as well as drawing the eye of and becoming quite the disconcerting thorn for the Alliance.”
“How do you know it is him?”
Ian favored me with a look. “He is hard to miss. And his troops are fiercely loyal. They follow him like a pack of hounds at his heels. He doesn’t even need to speak; they are like an extension of his own body.
“There is something vastly unsettling about his leadership. Typically Sarkkrai warbands are loud; they are all about frightening and demoralizing before an attack. Your son moves in silence and I don’t think he even told them to do so. They are just doing what he does and it’s devastating…”
“Ve’Sath allows such? An individualist approach to leadership isn’t exactly something he likes to foster.”
“You probably know better than I,” the mage said, pausing his click-click-clicking. “If Pelthocia continues to lose ground, King Burend will be forced to act. The Trine will focus on him. Cenav is smart but elusiveness evades soldiers, not Zarhsha magic.”
“What about Pelthocian magic?” I asked, watching the rhythmic motion of Cen’s hands as he continued honing his blade’s edge.
Ianarius paused once again and it was a moment before he replied. “I am my King’s weapon. In all matters.”
I met his gaze. “And Cenav is the Warlord’s.”
“So Cenav is some kind of warrior or something? Like, a General in an army?” Eleanor asked, then nearly choked on her coffee. “Wait, he’s your son?!”
~*~*~*~
CHAPTER 9
Against my better judgment, I let Devi slip his leash for a few hours. He promised he would not kill, steal or alarm the entirety of Kingston so I had no choice but to agree. It was either that, or be stuck in an enclosed area with a restless sociopath. Once again, I had to reassure my house sitter that Devi would not be bursting into flames in direct sunlight, nor was he ‘on the prowl’ for ‘blood to suck’. Her words, not mine.
Just in case, I flipped on the wall TV and set it to the 24 hour news channel. It’s not that I didn’t trust an inhuman assassin to behave—oh wait, yes it is. Cenav too was at the end of his rope; Sarkkrai do not just sit around. Relaxation is their antithesis. When he started to tromp around, making my place feel the size of a dollhouse and shaking the pictures on the wall, I had to send him out too.
But what kind of dethroned despot would I be if I just let him wander the streets? Devi I could trust to blend in. My son, not so much. Luckily enough, Cen had no interest in Kingston or its people and culture. He wanted exercise. He wanted to swing that freshly sharpened sword of his.
“H-how about the parking garage? There’s rarely anyone down there and there is lots of empty space.” Eleanor suggested, pushing her glasses up onto the bridge of her nose. “I could, um… I could show him.”
I translated and Cen gave a short nod. With a distasteful grimace, he slipped the pendant over his head once more, taking the form of a human. He wrapped the weapon’s chain around his forearm, holding the sword in a reverse grip to run alongside his arm when down at his side. Eleanor bounced off her chair to get the door with an enthusiasm I wasn’t sure what to think of. Cenav moved to follow, stopping when he was even with the mage across the kitchen island. He didn’t turn to face Ian, just stood there till the mage looked up.
“You will find the Warlord more forgiving than I where she is concerned… Pelthocian.”
When the door clicked shut, leaving just the two of us to puzzle over Cenav’s parting words. Ian moved his net browsing to the couch so he could no doubt watch TV at the same time. He was putting the average American teenage to shame with his multitasking. I would have made some snarky remark about it—not that he would have understood—but Cen’s last comment had me feeling shy. Where was Eleanor? How long does it take to walk to the garage and back?
“So…” I began, letting my mouth talk since my brain couldn’t think of anything. “Your first Earth party. Should be fun.” No reply but I did get an eyebrow tweaked. “Did you attend many of the galas at Osiril? I’m sure they had many.”
“When decorum demanded I attend, yes.”
“Huh.” I fiddled with the bags left at the end of the couch. “Not many get-togethers like that in Rakmorath. Well, there were but not like that.”
“Yes, bloodthirsty warmongering rallies are not quite the same as dinner and dancing.”
“’Suppose not.” I giggled at the thought of Sarkkrai in suits, dancing with flowers in their mouths to tango music. “To be honest, I’ve only been to a few black tie events. Just not really my thing.”
Ian made an affirmative sound. I eyed the monster I created for a moment then sighed and joined him on the couch to watch the television. No breaking news—that was a good sign.
What felt like hours past and my front door finally crept open. Did I say crept? I meant forced open with what had to have been a well-placed shoulder. So much for the etiquette of a double knock and quiet entrance. Cenav was thoroughly soaked and I doubted it was rain. His breathing was even though; my boy knew the value of the cool down routine. Hair plastered to his temples, chest slick with rivulets, I wouldn’t have doubted it if his boots didn’t slosh with each step. Though I was used to the ever-present frown Sarkkrai of all types generally greeted the world with, his current glower looked a little aggravated.
In the door crept Eleanor. See? Crept. She was alive though, that was a good sign. Her furtive glance was met by Cen’s imperious stare. He then turned away to inspect the distance I was sitting from Ianarius, leading me to do the same thing. Wait, who was the parent here? And what exactly did he think Ian—or I—would do when left alone? It’s not like we were a couple of hormonal teenagers! No sir! Malefactor and Master Mage, that’s all! We weren’t even friends, right?
“This female insisted I return here to cleanse myself instead of finding a water source.” He eyed Eleanor once more, no less frost. Knowing what I know about Sarkkrai relations between the sexes, I thanked her lucky stars she came back to my house in one piece.
“I… I just though—” Translated.
“Females do not need to think where males are concerned.” Translated again.
Lovely. My only child is a chauvinist…
“B-but your mother is female!” Aye.
“My mother is a King!” Mhm.
“Children! If you do not settle down, you will go to bed without supper!” Ian chimed in without looking up from the lap
top. Where he’d read or heard that gem was beyond me. I got to my feet with a smile and showed Cen how to use the shower and plied him with several towels; he was not impressed.
With the sound of running water in the background, the front door opened once more, admitting my wayward Harbinger. He looked pleased with himself however whatever was going on in his mind didn’t keep him from breathing in the scents of the room. His eyes sought me first, quickly dismissed the bookworm—or was that net junky?—and gave Eleanor a look that had her shuffling behind the kitchen island.
“Do I dare ask what has you so chipper?”
“Hmm!” He stuffed his hand into a pocket and pulled out something then placed it in my hand. Looking down I saw a halved business card and two strips of paper. “I don’t know what those mean but they were eager for me to have them.”
I barked a laugh—they were phone numbers!
The rest of the day was surprisingly uneventful. I managed to disentangle my laptop from Ian’s clutches when the battery finally died. I’m sure he sensed the lie when I told him that it would take a day to charge it and that he couldn’t touch it till then. After ringing up a two hundred dollar bill at a local eatery for take-out dinner, the mismatched crew settled down for the night. Eleanor said her goodbyes and left, saying she would return with coffee in the morning. My house sitter glowed with excitement as she shut the door behind her, further instilling upon me the danger I was putting her in. Though she was eager to help, thrilled at the prospect of doing what she surely thought was ‘a good deed’, it was still something I should have tried harder to keep her out of. I hoped I’d never regret it.
The overcast had remained with us and a light rain was coming down in patches, the clouds keeping in the relative warmth. I awoke sometime around two and as I lay there enjoying the feel of my thick comforter and feathery pillows, I heard a noise that had me going still. Listening intently, I didn’t hear voices (or death rattles) but the second jarring bump forced me to sit up. Feet in slippers, I snuck out into the hall, all ears. I heard it again and followed it to Ian’s room.
The door was shut so I listened with my senses. Oddly enough I found nothing in the room, not even his well-muffled life force. Popping my head in, I saw an empty room softly lit by the bed lamp and an open window. I knew when I looked outside, I’d see nothing.
So my strange little mage flew the coop; he’d either be back tomorrow or we’d proceed without him.
~*~*~*~
CHAPTER 10
“So where were you last night?” I asked, chasing the question with a hearty swallow of cinna-mocha.
Ianarius paused, eyes flicking past me as Cen and Devi suddenly called halt to their conversation. The mage ran his hand through his hair. “So why were you in my room last night?”, he countered.
“I heard a noise.”
“So you came into my room?”
“Knock it off,” I stated, in no mood for his flick-of-the-light playfulness.
Ian chuckled. “I have erratic sleep patterns. I’ll go for days then crash,” he replied with an open palm gesture. “The energies keep me awake. I have to burn it off somehow or I won’t be able to study so I go for runs at midnight, swim, whatever I can. Eventually I will crash.”
“Oh.” That was a much less suspicious excuse than I was imagining.
“Expecting something different?”
“Perhaps. I certainly don’t want you to fall into Sarkkrai hands—again—so soon after the last time. At least not while we have this quasi-partnership in play.”
Ian’s face scrunched and he smacked his mouth as if he could still taste the metal.
“Sarkkrai do not take prisoners,” Cenav said, mouth set.
“They do when Invyrchal is involved, apparently,” I said. My son continued to frown as if we were lying to him. “Invyrchal set it up so that we’d walk right into a trap. He had an entire contingent waiting for us to arrive.”
Cen’s expression turned to scoffing.
“As if you would have fared any better against such odds!” Ian grumbled.
“Were they my soldiers,” Cen stated. “You would be dead.”
The glares were getting heated and possibly would have gotten ugly if Eleanor hadn’t chosen that moment to nearly drop her coffee. She stuttered her apology red-faced. I sipped my coffee. What an interesting day this was going to be.
Six o’clock arrived quicker than I anticipated but I was pleased the day didn’t begin to drag due to anticipation. Eleanor and I ensconced ourselves in my room to get ready for the gala leaving the men folk to figure it out themselves. Eleanor, I was pleased to see, had a glimmer of fashion sense under that home-knitted sweater and polymer whale earrings. No joke, little whales.
The dress she picked out for herself was a cap-sleeved sheath in a lovely blue lace pattern. I knew instantly it would go well with her blond ringlets and blue eyes. The silver wire glasses would throw off the look a little but we weren’t there to climb the social ladder, we were there to stop some fire sprite from showing me up. I mean, stop some despot from raining destruction upon the world.
I already had a dress in mind. I’d bought it last year but it was just too lovely. I hadn’t had the opportunity to wear it yet. Slipping it out of its hanging bag, I laid the dress on the bed to admire. It was a strapless colorblock column dress in black and white with a slit to die for up the side. Simple yet powerful. I wanted to look the part. When putting out an obnoxious flame, you use a boot. Or in this case, sexy black heels.
I went with a dusting of silver with thick black liner for my eyes, opting to play up my lips in an I-mean-business red. Eleanor looked a little lost; lucky for her, makeup was something I knew. A King must always look her best, after all. A dab of honey-toned brown, a swoosh of liner and sealer, pretty pink lip shine and… wow, my house-sitter was working her way up to knock-out status! We were ready to be admired by our minions and cohorts.
As we graced the living room with our presence, expecting our deserved bowing and scraping, we were almost blatantly ignored. Devi was skirting the lines of wisdom and taunting Cen. The Harbinger was wearing pinstripe with a silk shirt and tie, all in a pristine black. The ensemble was also skirting the border of a Harbinger’s natural desire to blend in; it was a Notice and Respect Me suit if I’d ever seen one. Cen filled out a more traditional black suit with white dress shirt. Even in his human form, he still filled it out but our seamstress knew his stuff; the stitching looked good. No tie, I saw, then I realized that was what he was being teased over.
Devi smirked as he adjusted his tie while eyeing my son. When he saw us—or me, really—most of the deviltry fled from his expression. Stepping around the coach smoothly, my assassin put a hand to his roguish chest. “Ladies, you look lovely this evening. To be in such company, I am truly blessed.”
I returned his smile with one of my own, eyebrow lifted. Eleanor wasn’t buying it though, even when she couldn’t understand his Pelthocian. He smiled a little wider. “Knock it off, Devi, or you won’t be coming.”
He groaned and flounced off to the kitchen island. Cen replaced him standing before me. His back was stiff, almost military stiff, expression a touch anxious. Aww, my boy wanted my approval!
Though his suit was sitting well on his bulky frame, I still went through the motions of adjusting the collar and smoothing the lapels. I wanted the contact but knew embracing was out of the question. “You look very handsome, Cen.”
“Sarkkrai are not handsome,” he replied quietly.
“Striking, then? Impressive?” I managed to wheedle the barest of smiles from him. I scored mom points. Even Kings like mom points. It was a good feeling. Eleanor was smiling at my side, no idea what we were saying but knowing it was something good.
“Everyone looks very nice tonight,” she said, clasping her hands together. “Though these aren’t the suits I bought. I-Ian is really good!”
I murmured an affirmation. He must have cast spells similar to the one he did on h
is own robes when he first got here. These suits he probably found online and matched them. Briefly, I wondered if that was legal.
“All you need now is a tie. Uh, like this!” Eleanor, with a few tappity-taps on her phone displayed a picture of a man in a simple well-made tux. She then found an image of a red necktie.
“Do you mean that thing around his neck?” Cen asked. I saw the brewing argument. Though I hadn’t translated for Eleanor yet, she looked stricken at the tone of his response, glancing back at the phone like the picture might have changed to something offensive. “I will not put a noose around my neck!”
From the kitchen, Devi was giggling.
“Am I to walk around like a tethered beast on a chain?”
“It’s not a leash, Cen, it’s a tie. And ties are considered fashion,” I told him.
“I don’t care what they are considered since I will not subject myself to them.”
“I… could find a picture of a bow tie. If he’d rather…” Eleanor quibbled.
“I don’t think that is necessary,” I quickly stepped in. He already was in a flit over the tie, he’d assume we were making fun of him if we suggested a bow. “He’ll look just fine without.” I patted Cen’s chest. He looked sullen. His mouth was pulled down in a frown reminiscent of his father. Trying to picture Ve’Sath in a suit or as a human wasn’t happening even with my vaulted sense of imagination. He would never do it.
“We’re all ready?” Came a voice from behind me. All eyes turned to Osiril’s Master Mage but I felt like he only had eyes for me. I drank in the sleek tux, the perfect cut and lines, the deep blood red accent of vest and pocket. Was my mouth hanging open? I didn’t even care. The stubble was gone. His dark brown hair with their grayed temples looked clean and soft. He was not hiding his eye color yet and the touch of blood red set off the swirling ink in a riot of indigo and purple. Mesmerizing. Truly mesmerizing.
