“Think of the Echo Vortex as a powerhouse. Once the energy gets to a particular structure, there are plugs and so forth to further control and regulate things.” As Babs speaks, she waves her arms about in an animated rhythm. Its clear how much she loves this place.
“That makes sense.” I step to the edge and peer down. “Why only once every ten years?”
“The balance of power is very fragile. Too much and it overloads our systems. To use the electricity analogy, it burns out our circuits. Everyone in Antrum would die.”
“I had no idea.” My skin erupt sin gooseflesh. “How do you control when the vortex goes off?”
“Not sure what you mean.” But Babs says those words far too quickly to be believable. She knows exactly what I mean.
“How does the angel fire ignite?”
“Oh.” Babs looks away. “That’s a mystery.”
Now, I play around with double-meanings for a living. She kids no one. “It’s not a mystery to you, though. Is it?”
Bab’s levels me with a serious look. “Whatever do you mean?”
“When we first walked out here, you stated that Angel fire gets ignited at the base of the vortex. That implies someone’s doing the igniting.”
Babs sighs. “I heard you were clever.”
“Does that mean you’ll reply?”
“Can you keep it a secret?”
I set my hand on my heart. “Absolutely.”
“Once a decade, an archangel flies down to the base of the vortex. It’s their power that ignites everything. The specifics aren’t even something that I know about.”
“Who visits?”
“It’s different each time. Aquila comes most often.”
I rock on my heels. “Aquila. She’s the one who gave the Tithe his powers.” I focus on Babs again. “A series of effigies have attacked me, claiming they are part of some kind of countdown for the Tithe. Can you see any connection between the vortex and the Tithe?”
Bab sniffs. “Many people have tried to access the vortex. Light it up. Burn it down. That kind of thing. They never get in.” She hitches her thumb toward the tunnel behind us. “That’s the only way into the vortex proper, and we have that magically booby trapped. No one has ever entered the vortex without our approval.”
I scan the tunnel behind us. Now that I’m looking for it, I can see the lines of spells carved into the rough stone. Well done.
“That’s it.” Her face brightens once more. “Would you like to inspect our living areas? We’ve upgraded things since you last visited. We’ve even planned a feast in your honor.”
“I’m dreadfully sorry, but Verus wants me in Purgatory as much as possible. This visit was approved only because it would be limited.” Bab’s entire demeanor becomes the definition of deflated. “That said, once the court returns to Purgatory, how about I return and bring my parents with me? We’ll make it a real celebration, considering how we missed the last lighting of the vortex.”
Babs grins. “That would be lovely.”
As I head to the trans platform, we discuss some basics on when that visit might take place. After a short walk, I stand on the round metal transfer disc once more. “Thank you for your time today, Babs.”
“You’re most welcome.” She stands before me, tapping her chin. “Aw, screw it.” Leaning forward. She wraps me in another big hug.
“And thanks for that.”
A minute later, I’m hurting back to Purgatory, my mind racing through everything I learned in the Echo Vortex. If anything, the visit convinced me that there is some kind of link between the vortex and the Tower of Wonders. The Tithe keeps saying something about cleansing Heaven. That might explain the soldiers. With the power of the vortex behind him, he might be able to attack virtually anyone. But how would Myla come into play?
Trouble is, I still have no idea what the threat against her could be.
Another jolt strikes me as the platform comes to a halt in Purgatory. Again, the round tent is empty, save for the flickering candles.
Then it isn’t deserted anymore. Another ghost stands before me.
Jali.
My heart sinks. Jail looks as he always does: tall, lean, strong. Close-clipped hair. Deep laugh lines.
Only now he’s a ghost.
When I speak, my voice comes out hoarse. “So, it is done.”
“The contract is signed.”
“And the Tithe has sent you to me.”
The ghost of Jali nods. “I’m to ask you to renounce the demon, Myla Lewis. The Tithe still wishes to hunt her.”
A mixture of rage and sorrow pulses through my veins. “If this is anything like what happened with Silvinio and Devak, then the Tithe is lurking nearby, ready to turn you into an effigy for the battle.” I whirl about, scanning the empty shadows. “Show yourself. Stop sending my own people after me. Fight like a thrax.”
“It wouldn’t be a fair battle,” says Jali simply. “The Tithe can not be killed by anyone who lives.”
I rest my fingertips against my forehead, trying to think through my next steps. An idea appears; it’s a way to get the Tithe to fight or leave. Nodding, I move to stand at the edge of the transfer platform. “Come closer, Jali,” I command.
The minister float-walks to the other side of the metal disc. “What is it?”
“There have already been two attempts on my life.” I scan the tent once more. “If the Tithe is about to make a third, then know this. I don’t appreciate being treated as a test subject for effigy battle practice. You strike me, I strike back.” I turn to Jali. “The Tithe must renounce his plans, whatever they are, and leave my realms forever. If he doesn’t, I will make him pay.”
“My prince, you cannot stop this. The Tithe is too powerful.” Jali grits his teeth. “I am fighting the change.” He hunches over. “It hurts.”
I kneel so I can be eye to eye with Jali. “This is between me and the Tithe. Do not suffer on my account. Accept the change.”
Jali moans. “He says I can’t stop it, only slow it.”
When I speak again, my voice is gentle. “So let it happen. You have my blessing.” I lower my voice to a whisper only Jali can hear. “Just keep your eyes on his feet. That’s all I ask.”
Jali nods, then speaks in a loud voice. “I accept the change.”
There’s the flash again as the Tithe appears. He stands just off the platform, his magical mallet and chisel in hand. The Tithe strikes the chisel deep into ghost-Jali’s chest. A burst of light follows. The Tithe disappears.
And the ghost of Jali changes.
White bits of white stone float up from the ground, filling in the spectral Jali with granite. As with Devak and Silvinio, the tendrils of white grow heavier until Jali is no longer a ghost, but a solid figure made from white stone. He appears young once more, although with Jali, that doesn’t mean too much a difference in his appearance. There are fewer laugh lines and that’s about it. Jali’s wiry strength remains.
Another flare of white light surrounds the effigy version of Jali. My brows lift. That’s new. The Tithe just cast an extra spell after creating the effigy version of Jali. When the light fades, the stone version of Jali now wears the scaled metal armor of ancient Egypt. He also grips a long dagger in each hand.
But it’s not Jali’s new stone body or weapons that lock my attention.
It’s his gaze.
Jali stares at a spot by the tent’s periphery.
That won’t do at all. If I’m to get rid of the Tithe, I need him much closer to the platform.
If there’s one thing I learned at the echo vortex, it’s that Aquila and angel fire are somehow interesting to the Tithe. That’s information I can use.
Stepping backward, I move to stand in the center of the platform. I pull out my baculum, igniting the two bars into a single sword made of white flame. Holding the weapon before me, I move into battle stance.
“Want to see how I wield angel fire?” I swipe my sword in a few broad strokes. “I am the gra
ndson of none other than Aquila, and it is her power that drives me in battle.”
Jali gets into battle stance, with both his daggers pointed downward. He doesn’t move closer, through. Instead I track Jali’s gaze as he follows the invisible Tithe closer to the Pulpitum platform.
Six feet.
Three feet.
Two.
One.
“Cassandra, emergency ricochet!” I call.
The entire Pulpitum goes berserk. Lights flash. The Pulpitum rattles beneath my feet. With all my energy, I rush off the metal platform. What happens next seems to go in slow motion, although in reality, what takes place lasts for less than a second.
The platform bursts into the Heavens, moving at a rate so fast, the change becomes little more than a blur. A scream breaks the air. The Tithe. Once the platform is gone, I race over and grab the hand of effigy Jali. We share magick. Sure enough, I can now see the Tithe.
He writhes on the ground, gripping the bloody stump where his left arm once lay. He tried to step closer to me on the platform, and got his arm whacked off in the process.
When I next speak, I take care to glare directly at the Tithe. “I warned you. Leave my people alone. Back off Myla Lewis. You think I can’t touch you because I’m alive?” I raise my fire sword high. “Think again. I know things about battle you can’t even guess at. Go back to your tower and carve effigies. Otherwise, it will be all out war, and you’ll lose more than your arm.”
The Tithe looks directly at me, his face wild with rage. “Citadel bastard.” Another flare of white light surrounds him, and he is gone.
I release Jali’s chilly stone hand. The effigy version of him remains majestic, just as the living one was. “Thank you,” I say simply.
“You’ll watch over Rashida?”
“You have my word.”
“The instructions from my Master were to fight you until one of us was downed. Either you die, or I am defeated and return to the tower.”
I extinguish my baculum. “I won’t fight you, my friend.”
“I know.” Jali takes his daggers, points the blades at his chest, and plunges in the knives.
“Jali!” I gasp. “No!”
Long cracks form along Jali’s stone body. “Don’t worry, my prince. It doesn’t hurt.” Low pops sound as the fissures spread throughout his form. The minister gives me a sad smile. “One more after me, and it is done.”
A moment later, Jali’s body shatters into a thousand small bits of white granite that tumble to the earth. The bits of stone disintegrate and tumble into the ground. And my friend is gone. My eyes sting with held-in tears. One so noble shouldn’t have to die.
I barely notice the tent flap open once more. Lucas has returned.
“I know,” I say in a low voice. “You’ve come to me with news. Jali is dead.”
“I’ve had no word of that,” says Lucas. “I came here hoping to find you again. Since we last spoke, the Earls of Horus and Kamal have approached me. They wish to leave the alliance. I’ve done what I can to stall them, but they need to speak to you.”
Rising, I reset my baculum into the holster. “Where are they?”
“The mead hall, my prince.”
I crack my neck from side to side. “I’ll be right there.”
Lucas leaves and I try to regroup my thoughts. That comment from the Tithe; he called me a Citadel bastard? What was that about? I suppose most warriors are trained there, but it feels significant. Unfortunately, with the Earls of Striga and Kamal waiting for me …. The loss of my dear friend still fresh… And my anti-Acca alliance on the line … I can’t put the pieces together right now.
Straightening my royal tunic, I head off for the meal hall and yet another battle, only one that will use words instead of knives.
But it’s one I still need to win.
34
After leaving Lucas, I step through the muddy pathways that lace through our camp. With every passing moment, more shadows disappear. The low caws of ravens announce the time. It’s early morning.
Soon the wooden mead hall looms before me. Two men stand outside. First there is Zosar, the Earl of Horus. He’s an older man with ebony skin, long dread locks, and the crest of an Egyptian eye on his chest. Beside him stands Kian, the Earl of Kamal. He’s a middle aged man with cocoa skin, high cheekbones, and short gray hair. Both wear tunics with the emblazoned with the symbols of their houses.
“Greetings, Zosar and Kian.” I focus on Zosar. “The loss of Jali is deeply felt.”
“He was blessed by the Tithe,” replies Zosar. He has a low and gentle voice. “Rashida is well now. There is nothing to mourn.”
Thinking of my friend sets an ache in my chest. “Even so, I’ll be there for the ceremonies. You’ll hold them when we return to Antrum, yes?”
“Correct.” Zosar gives me a sad smile. “It will be good to have you there.”
“Let’s go inside,” I say. “We’ve much to discuss.”
I pull open the mead hall door and step inside. The moment I enter the hall, I notice a number of things. The gentle scent of cinnamon and sunshine. A soft rustling from the shadows. It all adds up to one realization.
Myla is here.
The earls enter behind me. The question appears. Will they sense Myla?
Probably not. Zosar and Kian aren’t hunters.
The room still hides in the semi-darkness of early morning. Zosar rustles around the feasting table. “Curses, where are those blasted candles?” he asks.
Needless to say, there’s no way I’ll allow Zosar to add any light. That would expose Myla, and my protective instincts for her are stronger than ever.
“Never mind that,” I say. “You said your need was urgent.”
“We heard the House of Striga backed out of the alliance,” says Kian.
I nod. “Striga has some questions, but I still have their seal on the alliance parchment.” Which is still true as of this moment. In two days? Not so much. “If they back out—if any of you back out—it will mean the King’s wrath.” I lower my voice to a menacing level. “You gave your seal. You gave your word.”
Zosar waves his hand. “This alliance isn’t worth the parchment it’s written on. Even with Horus, Kamal, Striga, and Rixa together, we don’t have enough strength of arms to face down the Earl of Acca.”
I’d point out that we have the men in terms of raw numbers, but he raises a good point. Over the last weeks, I’ve seen first-hand how weak the warriors are in our major houses. I won’t throw bodies around to get killed if they aren’t properly trained. That’s what Aldred does, and it’s a waste of life.
Kian snaps his fingers. His falcon, Ka, swoops from the rafters to land on his shoulder. “Take my advice.” Kian runs his pinky down the falcon’s head. “Give Acca what he wants.”
I chuckle, but there’s no humor in it. “Really? Is that what he wants this week? You’ve seen what happened with my father. Give in once and there’s no end.” I point between the two men. “We all know what’s happening here. Acca sees my father as toothless, so now he’s coming after my canines.” I slams my fist against my palm. “I must stand my ground or I no longer deserve my crown.”
The earls say nothing. Good. That means I’m winning them over.
“You speak of the great houses,” I continue. “But are they the only ones in Antrum? The Houses Gurith, Zerihun, and Alura are all loyal to the King, perhaps many more.” I don’t need to add the obvious. Those three houses all out-performed the so-called great ones at the Winter Tournament.
Zosar points at me, the hint of a smile on his wide mouth. “You’re a crafty one, I’ll grant you. So much like Octavia.”
I nod. “We leave for Antrum tomorrow. I’ll reach out to the lesser Houses the moment I return.” I point between them once more. “Don’t forget why you signed this Alliance in the first place. Once Acca takes down my house, he’ll come for you next. All I’m asking for is a little time.”
Kian frowns. “And your fat
her supports this? Word is he bows lower to Acca each day.”
A steely sense of resolve ricochets through my soul. “Have you ever seen me bow?”
Kian steps to my side. “No, my prince. Never.”
“Nor will you.” My gaze shifts between the earls. “We leave for Antrum in the morning. There’s much work to do. If you’ll excuse me.” I gesture toward the door.
The earls pause, share a long look, and then nod. I open the door. The scent of cinnamon and sunshine turns overwhelming. That means one thing. Myla stands only a few inches away from me now. Unfortunately, so do the earls.
Kian steps toward the exit; then he pauses at the threshold. “I’ll give you a month. I can risk no more with Acca.”
Myla’s scent turns downright overwhelming. My pulse speeds. After everything that’s happened with Lucas, Jali, and now the earls, I need her so much, it hurts.
Zosar steps up and grips my forearm. “You’re the last chance we have.”
I grin. “And have I ever failed you?”
Kian scowls. “Not yet.”
At last, the two earls leave; the door slams shut behind them. At last. Twisting, I pin Myla against the wall, brushing my lips against hers. Our kiss quickly turns wild with need. I press her fully against the wall with my body. She’s everything soft and iron at once. It drives my desire.
Leaning in, I whisper by her ear. “You’re lucky those Earls can’t hunt worth a damn. I could hear you breathing from across the room.”
She licks her lips and smiles. “Lucky me.”
For a long moment, all I can do is soak in the sight for her. She’s here and wearing ghoul robes for some reason. Who cares? She’s here, none the less. My world pauses. The last few hours feel like a chaos of revelations. Now, with my girl before me, life makes sense again.
It’s all Myla.
I take in a deep breath, centering myself. “That was the part where I lose control because I didn’t expect to see you.” I shoot her a shy smile. “Next is the part where I say we take things slowly.”
“Thank you.” Although, the way she says the words, she doesn’t seem entirely happy not to be kissing my face off.
Lincoln Page 29
