I actively ignore the rustling noises from the outside woods. There’s also telltale thump of footsteps and horses. I know what’s happening. A search party. But with any luck, they’ll give up and go home. It’s never happened before, but the new Lincoln is all about hope.
“Prince Lincoln!” Thrax voices echo in from a distance. Spots of torchlight glisten in the trees.
Truly irritating.
Still, they are my people and they worry. I leap down, landing at the base of the tree. Turning to my girl, I reach up. “Do you need a hand, Myla?”
“Sure.” She steps off the trunk and into my arms. Little by little, her body slowly slides down mine. Each soft contour of her body teases against mine. Her boots reach the ground, my arms stay wrapped tightly around her. Desire burns through my veins.
Myla licks her lips. “Thanks, Lincoln.”
“You’re welcome.” I rest my palms at her waist. “I meant what I said today, Myla.”
She blushes again. “You mean when we were talking about beating?”
I slide my hand slides up her back, setting my palm at the base of her neck. “About beating as challenging. My subjects complain, but no one pushes me to be better. You did that, even when you hated me.” I grin. “Especially when you hated me.” I lace my fingers through her hair. “Does that make sense?”
Her features turn slack. “Yes, it does. Very much.”
My every nerve ending is alight with wanting her. “I like this. Feeling like I have a peer, a partner.” I cup her sweet face in my hands. “I like you, Myla.”
I guide her mouth onto mine. Our kiss quickly turns tough and demanding. Every flick of her tongue tears through my soul. Somewhere in the distance, lightning strikes the earth, followed by a low roll of thunder. Myla breaks the kiss, her gaze locking on the place where the bolt struck. We step apart.
“That’s weird,” says Myla. “It’s not supposed to storm tonight.”
“Prince Lincoln!” Those are my helpful subjects. Again.. Based on how loud they are sounding, it seems as if they’re closing in. Damn.
“We better go,” I say gently.
Hand in hand, we leave the greenhouse. After remounting our horses, we ride back to camp. All the while, more voices call for me. I make sure to lead our steeds on the fastest path to Myla’s cabin. Once we’re close, I ride up beside Myla and grip Night’s reins. “Your cottage is past those trees. You should go; I’ll take care of Night.”
She gives me a silent thumbs-up, slides off Night, and tiptoes off. I watch until she’s safely inside and smile.
That was perfection.
25
Once the horses are settled, I head for my cabin. By this point, Aldred’s had enough time to create a counter-move for tonight’s dinner with reperio demons. After all, he’s still pushing for that betrothal contract and I haven’t signed. The man does not give up. Once I arrive home, I fully expect to find a messenger waiting for me with a summons to my parent’s tent. More quality time with Aldred. That’s not exactly what happens.
Instead, none other than Minister Jali waits by my door.
Interesting.
As the Minister of Alliances for Horus, Jali is the my last step in finalizing my anti-Acca treaty. After Aldred’s threat to move cloud-side, that treaty is more important than ever. Nothing like a larger military force guarding the exits of Antrum to encourage you to stay put. So far, Jali’s been unavailable. His granddaughter Rashida remains ill. With any luck, the fact that he’s here means the little girl is feeling better.
I open my mouth, ready to wish Jali good evening. The minister places his pointer finger across his lips in a gesture for silence. I nod, open my door, and usher Jali inside.
Minister Jali is an older man with ebony skin. His white hair is worn closely clipped to his skull. He has a long face with deep laugh lines and a whip-fast, wiry body. Even at four hundred years old, Jali remains a formidable warrior. Tonight he wears a kaftan of bronze fabric.
“Apologies, my Prince,” says Jali. His basso voice echoes around the cabin. “I hope this isn’t too late.”
“Not a problem at all. Would you like to sit?” I gesture toward the larger table in the corner of my cabin. The smaller one is still covered in map puzzle pieces.
Jali stares at the big table for a moment too long. “Yes, that would work well.”
Once we take our seats, Jali launches into the reason for his visit. Not a surprise. This minister is never one to waste time. “I’ve come to see you tonight because I’ve been visited by the Tithe.”
Concern sharpens my senses. “I’ve been meaning to chat with you about that.”
Jali’s eyes take on an intense look. “It’s like that old saying. You know the one? About attack plan omicron delta?”
In truth, there’s no old saying about attack plan omicron delta. Jali has years of demon patrol experience. When fighting on Earth, thrax warriors have different pre-set battle plans, each one defined with Greek letters. Omicron delta calls for me to mimic whatever Jali does next.
“Agreed.” I say the word casually, but the meaning is clear. I accept this battle plan.
Jali stares at his hands, which he pointedly slides off the tabletop and rests on his knees. After that, the minister leans forward. I copy the movement.
Under the table, Jali grips my hand. The moment his fingers touch mine, a figure appears behind the minister. No, appears isn’t exactly the right word. It’s become visible. Most likely, this person was always lurking behind Jali’s shoulder.
It’s the Tithe.
The sight sends a jolt of alarm through my nervous system. This is the warlock who keeps asking my permission to attack Myla. From my peripheral vision, I scan him carefully. He’s an older man with leathery skin, unkempt gray hair, and a few day’s growth of beard. He’s dressed in a simple white toga and has the mismatched eyes of a thrax. A leather satchel is slung over his shoulder; the white crystal mallet and chisel peep out the top. White dust covers him from head to toe.
No question about it. Something about touching Jali makes it possible for me to see the Tithe. Which makes sense. After all, the Tithe has a book that’s only viewable to those he’s recruiting. It’s logical he’d use the same approach in other ways as well. It’s also why Jali wanted to sit at the table and called for attack plan omicron delta. That was so the minister could grab my hand without being seen by the Tithe.
“What troubles you, Jali?” As I speak, I take care to keep my features level. Jali went to great lengths to hide the fact that the Tithe was near. I must maintain the illusion.
“It’s my granddaughter, Rashida. No matter what we do, her illness worsens.”
Bands of sadness tighten across my rib cage. Rashida is a sweet child with bright eyes and a sharp mind. “I thought Lucas was healing her.”
“He’s tried.” Jali huffs out an exasperated breath. “Nothing works.”
“I’m so sorry, brother.”
“That’s why I’m happy that the Tithe has visited me.” At the mention of his name, the Tithe’s glares at the back of Jali’s head. The look on the warlock’s face is a unique mixture of hunger, hatred and greed.
“I’ve been blessed,” continues Jali. “The Tithe will grant my dearest wish. He will cure my granddaughter in exchange for my eternal service. I said I could not possibly accept until I had spoken to you.”
“You haven’t told my parents?”
“You and I are working on a rather sensitive treaty. If I take this deal from the Tithe, I must leave your service before that particular document is signed.”
With my free hand, I scrub my palm over my face. Intuition tells me that Jali is saying this for show. Still, I need to act as if my world imploded. Or at the very least, my anti-Acca treaty. “I cannot pretend to be happy about this, but you have my permission. Rashida’s life is what’s most important.”
“Thank you,” says Jali.
Behind the minister, the Tithe steps backward. I don�
�t look at the warlock directly, but even so, I can make out enough of what happens. A swirl of white dust surrounds the Tithe. Pale light flashes around his form. Then the cloud of magical particles disappears. With it, the Tithe is gone as well.
Jali releases my hand. “He’s left, hasn’t he?”
“Yes.” I lean back in my chair and kick my legs forward. “Talk to me.”
“The Tithe visited me yesterday. I was holding Rashid’s hand once when he appeared. Afterwards, she asked about what she called, the funny ghost man. That’s how I found out my touch can help others see him.”
“I’ve been remiss. The Tithe already visited Devak and Silvio. I knew he was targeting my ministers, but I didn’t want to bother you, considering your plight with Rashida.”
“It wouldn’t have changed things, one way or another. The Tithe announced that he wants to scuttle the anti-Acca treaty.”
“And will he?”
Jali grins. “Funny thing, that. The Anti-Acca treaty is not signed. But the Earl of Horus already approved a trade route document which includes an addendum with the same provisions as your treaty, so…”
I shake my head. “There’s a reason why you’re Minister of Alliances. Brilliantly played. You get the deal with the Tithe and keep your word to me as well.”
“Thank you.”
“Have you and the Tithe finalized your deal?”
“No, I’m supposed to sign a document in blood tomorrow.” Jali chuckles. “He’s a rather dramatic one, this warlock.”
“It’s no laughing matter.” I sit up straight and meet Jali’s gaze dead on. “Know this. The Tithe is a liar. He may cure Rashida, but most likely? You won’t spend a happy eternity in some tower. That warlock has evil plans, and it concerns both me and my future queen. Something about revenge.”
Jali shoots me a sly look. “I heard all about her. Myla Lewis.”
I shake my head. “You must take this seriously. Both Devak and Silvinio were sent to fight me. And the Tithe said things about wiping out the angels.”
“I do know the import of this situation,” retorts Jali. “I don’t worry about fighting you. And you shouldn’t, either. As for the rest, I’ll simply have to risk it. Whatever you say about the Tithe, he always keeps his side of the bargain. Both Silvinio and Devak died wealthy men. I seek fortune of a different kind. Rashida must get better.”
Most times, I’m on the receiving end of the ‘you’re being too noble’ speeches. This time, it’s my turn. “Your loyalty is admirable. But at what cost, Jali?”
All signs of lightheartedness disappear. When Jali next speaks, all the seriousness in his soul is written on his face. “At what cost, you ask? A far smaller one than doing nothing.” He exhales a log breath. “You understand, don’t you?”
“I do.” There’s nothing more to say on the topic, really. Whatever tortures the Tithe could hand out to Jali, it wouldn’t be any worse than the minister watching his granddaughter die, knowing he could have saved her. “How much longer do you have before you become an effigy?”
“Weeks at most.”
“Has the Tithe told you anything about his plans?”
“Beyond the deal being contingent on burying the Anti-Acca treaty? Nothing.” Jali snaps his fingers. “He did say there was one more effigy after me, whatever that means.”
“Devak and Silvinio said the same. The Tithe is working on some kind of countdown.” A memory appears. The Ryder mansion. My eyes widen. “I have a book.” Rising, I cross the room and grab the blank volume I got from the library. I hand it over to Jali. “This volume appears blank to me. Lucas thought someone who was in a deal with the Tithe might be able to read it.”
Jali opens the book. “Indeed, I can see writing here.”
My pulse speeds. “What does it say?”
“The Story of the Tithe,” reads Jali. “Also known as Pygmalion.” Jali looks up. “You know the tale?”
“Yes,” I reply. “In ancient times, Pygmalion was a sculptor. He created a statue of such beauty, a goddess took pity on him and made the statue real.”
Jali turns the pages. “This is mostly pictures. It shows the same sort of story.” Jali flips forward. “Only here, Pygmalion is the Tithe and the goddess … that’s the archangel Aquila. She granted him the power to create effigies through the gift of an enchanted mallet and chisel. Over the centuries, the Tithe has used this power to gather other magic to him. That’s how you can know he’ll keep his promises.”
“Let me get this straight.” I point to the leather-bound book. “That’s basically a recruiting brochure?”
“You are correct, my Prince.” Jali flips through to the end. “The rest of the pictures are what the Tithe delivers. Health, wealth, that sort of thing.”
“Is there anything in there about warriors? I saw a model of the Tower of Wonders. Inside all the effigies were in battle armor.”
Jali scans the pages again. “There’s nothing in here about fighting.”
I rake my hands through my hair. “I’m missing a bigger picture, I know it.”
“Well, if anyone will figure it out, you will.” Jali sets the book onto the tabletop and rises to stand. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Rashida can’t sleep unless her Jaja is near.”
“That’s what she calls you? Jaja? It’s perfect.”
“So is she.” With his head held high, Jali marches out of the room and my cabin. Once the minister is gone, I change into some loose flannel bottoms. After that, I return to my smaller table and the inter-realm puzzle map. Sure, I now know the Tower of Wonders is located far above the Echo Vortex. Even better, the House of Mulciber (who oversees the vortex) has confirmed my official visit. I’ll inspect in a few days’ time.
So I know the vortex lies below the tower.
That said, what’s above it? What in Heaven is the Tithe interested in? How could he possibly attack angels when no one has breached the gates of Heaven before?
Not for the first time, I consider marching into the Tower to confront the Tithe, once and for all. It’s tempting, but until I know more—or have a compelling reason to risk my life—I’ll keep up my research. Something in this map holds the key.
Time seeps away as I tinker with my puzzle. In the end, I work through until dawn. At some point, an unfamiliar voice breaks the early morning silence. “This way, Myla. You’re in deep trouble, young lady.”
Uh oh.
That kind of speech is standard for mothers around the globe. I head over to my window. Myla steps out from her cabin. How can a woman make sweatpants look gorgeous? Somehow, Myla manages.
Beside Myla, there walks an older version my future queen. Myla’s mother. As the pair march on, all the nobles peep out their doors and windows. I stride over to my own door, throw it open, lean against the frame, and watch my girl stroll by.
We share a smile, then a wink. Warmth and affection spreads through my chest.
Ah, Myla.
While my girl trudges off to her car, her tail waves good-bye to me. I return the gesture. After everything that happened in the stables, Myla’s tail and I still have a special relationship. Good to know. As Myla and her mother drive away, I make a decision. In the end, it doesn’t matter what Aldred plots, Armageddon schemes, or the Tithe wants.
I’ll keep trusting to my heart. It’s already working out stupendously.
26
Once Myla’s out of sight, a royal messenger approaches my cabin. I memorize the messenger rotation schedule. You’d be amazed how useful such information can be. In this case, the messenger for the day is Odelinda. She’s who my parents use when they require both discretion and speed.
In other words, I’m in trouble.
Odelinda stops before me. She’s a tall woman, athletic and lean with long brown hair pulled back into a neat bun. As a messenger, she wears a simple black gown with the Rixa eagle emblazoned on her shoulder. “Greetings.”
“Good morning, Odelinda.”
“Your presence is requested
at the reception tent.”
“I’ll be along shortly.”
“Yes, my Prince.” She bows and strolls away. Despite the heavy gown, Odelinda can sure hustle. I have messengers in tunics and short pants who can’t beat her stride.
Stepping back into my cabin, I change into my princely garb: tunic, pants, boots. This meeting is undoubtedly Aldred’s doing, and I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me wear my crown. That’s an honor I reserve for the full court. After crossing the camp, I approach the royal reception tent. This time, the guard’s armor is rather scratched. That’s Toland, one of my parent’s oldest and most trusted guards. I pause before him.
“Greetings, Toland.”
Toland raises his ceremonial spear, a motion that causes his armor to squeak. “My Prince.” He lowers his voice. “They’re waiting for you.”
“Who?”
“Your parents. Aldred. No one else.”
“Thank you. Please announce me.”
Toland coughs a few times before starting. “Hear ye! Hear ye! The High Prince Lincoln Vidar Osric Aquilus requests permission to enter the royal reception tent.”
“Granted,” comes Father’s voice.
In my mind, I focus on my marvelous time yesterday with Myla. Riding horses. Sharing kisses. Frightening the court half to death. Confronting Aldred will be nothing less than ghastly. To keep my cool, I’ll need to hold my thoughts of Myla close.
After taking a deep breath, I open the entrance flap and step inside. My parents sit at their regular table. Both are done up in their royal best, including crowns. Aldred stalks the floor nearby. Food stains still cover his tunic. The man must be peeved indeed. Since the reperio dinner, he’s neither slept nor changed.
“Greetings.” I step forward and take my seat at the table.
Aldred pauses. His entire frame shivers with rage. “You said you would never marry.”
“Funny thing, that.” I grin. “I’ve had a change of heart.”
Aldred and Father gasp. “You have?”
Mother stays perfectly serene. “He has.”
Lincoln Page 24
