What stood out, when he began to focus on the smaller details, were the tracks and footprints. He sucked in a tense breath as he confirmed that not all of them were human. The clawed footmarks of highlander tau were evident along one of the walls, fresh enough that they must have been left the previous night, if not earlier that morning.
He didn’t let himself jump to conclusions, but he did approach the fortress’s entrance at a wide angle, eyes peeled, myrblade unsheathed. The snow made it hard to disguise his approach, top layer crunching with squeaky noises underneath his feet, but it was still to his advantage. It gave him options, even allies, if needed.
He caught sight of a pair of monsters and stiffened his grip on his sword hilt. Two highlander tau, brutish humanoid monsters with wrinkled, pallid skin and jagged teeth, trampled through the snow just within Hexadonia’s outer wall. Damon tensed his jaw, heart pounding out a frantic pace.
It was as though he couldn’t turn his back from anyone in his life for more than a few minutes without them attracting danger and courting death. With the fortress so far outside of town, would anyone even have noticed if a pack of highlander tau arrived to take Kastet and Lilian during the night? Lilian was a fearsome fighter, but everyone had moments in which they could be caught unaware.
He surged forward, moving through the snow with long steps, feet punching downward through the crust. The tau both let out threatening hisses as he caught their attention. He’d pulled back his myrblade and was a fraction of a second away from committing to a swing when Lilian appeared in front of him, directly in the way.
“Easy, hero,” she said, with a teasing smile. “These two gentlemen work for us.”
She slid forward, setting one hand on his chest, while the other gently forced his sword arm down. Lilian was underdressed for the weather, clad only in a white cotton dress and a pair of knee-high deer skin boots.
She was as much a monster as the tau, albeit a monster dripping with seduction. Her skin was pale violet, eyes as black as the abyss. She wore her dark hair loose across her shoulders, like a young, innocent maiden flaunting her beauty. One of her claws pinched his shoulder as she let go of him, and he was immediately disabused of such notions.
“Let me guess,” said Damon, nodding to the tau behind her. “A gift from Famine.”
“You always were a sharp one. They’re trained to listen to my voice, along with Kastet’s. Monsters can be trained, you know.”
“Some monsters can be trained,” said Damon. He thought back to his time in the arena with Austine and Jorgen, the mostly tame lidaragi. “Other monsters are merely biding their time.”
“Are we still speaking of the tau?” There was a glint in Lilian’s dark eyes that held an almost sexual level of coyness. Damon ignored both it and her, sheathing his myrblade as he started toward Hexadonia’s entrance.
“Is Kastet home?” he asked.
“She’s more or less always home,” said Lilian. “This is the capital of her kingdom.”
“How very sad.”
Lilian laughed and fell into step beside him. Damon resisted the urge to make sure the tau stayed put as they slipped through a small, passageway-shaped opening within an ancient metal portcullis, locked into its downward position by the passage of centuries.
Hexadonia’s inner courtyard was nearly clear of snow. It felt empty and unfinished, a space intended to house tents and forges, training equipment and soldiers. Damon wondered if that open potential was what had drawn Kastet to the old fortress, so perfectly it seemed to match her ambitions.
They pushed through a pair of recently installed double doors and into the main keep. Lilian plucked a lantern from a table just inside the entrance, lighting it to illuminate their path through the otherwise pitch-black hallway.
Damon’s last experience within Hexadonia had been brief, mainly involving the catacombs and a passing visit to the dungeon. He paid attention to the layout, though Lilian led him in a straight path, never turning at the various intersections. A few were caved in and completely impassable. Water pattered from leaks in the ceiling in other places, lending a dank, musky scent to the air.
They passed through another door made from fresh wood and emerged into Kastet’s audience chamber, the complete opposite of the rest of the fortress. A lively fire crackled in the circular room, though already stiflingly hot. Several carpets were spread out across sections of the floor, and a table in the corner with dirty cups and plates suggested that the space served double duty as a dining hall.
Kastet sat upon her throne, reading from an old tome with intense focus. She looked good, different from when he’d last seen her. She’d grown her hair out again, having given up her disguise of being a boy upon leaving Azurecliff.
Her face was thin, almost severe in appearance, as though she’d been eating less than she needed. A heavy cloak with fur around the collar covered a fine silk shirt of white and pink, and her leggings were tan leather.
“Ah,” she said, setting her book down. “Damon. What an unexpected surprise.”
“I found him just outside the wall,” said Lilian. “I figured you’d want to see him.”
“You figured right.” Kastet crossed her legs and favored him with an appraising expression. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Likewise.” Damon strode forward, coming to a stop in front of the dais upon which Kastet’s throne sat. He made a show of looking around the chamber. “I see you’ve made some improvements.”
“A few,” said Kastet.
“Along with hiring some outside help,” he said. “How do you manage to keep those tau fed, anyway?”
Kastet’s smile flickered. “They take turns hunting. Famine has assured that they’ve been taught to prefer small game to, well… human prey.”
“Well, I’m sure you can take Famine at her word,” he said. He shot a meaningful glance toward Lilian, who did an almost believable job of ignoring him.
“There’s no need for such veiled pettiness,” said Kastet. “Your concerns related to the tau are valid. I’ve been active over the past month. Most of the fineries you see in this chamber were paid for with coin that came from contract work, jobs posted in Azurecliff and other nearby towns. I plan on filling Hexadonia with human soldiers as soon as it’s financially achievable.”
She hadn’t changed. If anything, Kastet’s ambitions had expanded in Damon’s time away. He folded his arms, weighing the potential consequences of his words. She was too competent, too dangerous, really, for him to treat as the little princess he’d saved from her wicked stepmother any longer.
“Avarice attacked Yvvestrosai,” he said. “Ria was… lost amidst the attack.”
Kastet blinked. “She was lost? What do you mean by that, exactly? Did you see her—"
“I mean exactly what I said!” His voice came out as more of a snarl than he intended. “We were split up. Wrath claims that she may have been within the palace when it burned to the ground, but I…”
The words caught in his throat like a door set on faulty hinges. Kastet was kind and merely nodded slowly, letting him recover. Lilian even set a hand on his shoulder, which he found himself appreciating more than he would have expected.
“I see,” said Kastet, after a long pause. “I’m so sorry.”
“That’s not why I’m here,” he said. “When I arrived back at the inn, it was empty. Vel apparently woke up and found that our aesta had left without leaving any word of where she was going. She set out to search for her, but left a letter saying she’d return on the night of the next full moon.”
There was another pause, and this time, Damon caught Kastet and Lilian exchanging a knowing glance.
“You knew already?” he said.
“We’ll get to that in just a moment,” said Kastet. “I know this must be hard for you, Damon, but we first need to speak more of Yvvestrosai and the Rem. Were you able to secure any of them as allies on my behalf? Also, this attack that Avarice waged… What did it entail?”
Damon couldn’t decide whether to laugh or flip her a rude gesture with one of his fingers. “People I love are in danger. I come to you for help, and this is how you receive me? With an inquisition on information about your war?”
“My war?” Kastet scoffed. “The last I knew it was our war. You forget that Avarice and Anise share an interest in hunting your family.”
“Because of what we did for you!” snapped Damon. “Because I dared to defy powerful people to save your life!”
“Did I ever seem unappreciative?” shouted Kastet. “I have thanked you many times over, Damon. Whatever you want, you’ll have, once I’m back in power! Money, titles, land. You know this already.”
“Quit wasting my time. You knew that Vel had woken up. She came here before setting out on her search, didn’t she?”
“Watch your tone!” Kastet’s expression turned icy. “I don’t take commands from you. If you want my help finding Vel, I expect you to perform in your service as my retainer.”
“I am not your retainer.” Damon’s hand settled on the hilt of his myrblade more out of reflex than intention. He sensed Lilian shifting slightly out of the corner of his eye.
“I won’t have you making demands of me,” snapped Kastet. “You will respect me in my audience chamber!”
Damon still remembered when he’d taken her virginity, the way her façade of confidence and command had broken down in the face of the new experience. She’d told him the same thing then, that she’d wanted his respect. It felt as though she deserved it less now than she had then.
“This was a waste of time,” he said.
Lilian grabbed his arm as he turned to go. It was dangerous to do that, and he saw from the way her eyes flicked toward his sword hilt that she knew it, too.
“Lord Damon,” said Lilian in a serious, placating voice. “Please. Let us at least put you up in a chamber here in Hexadonia, if only for the night. You can speak with the princess more once the two of you have both taken some time to calm down.”
She looked back and forth between him and Kastet. Damon half expected the petulant princess to object, but she slowly nodded. Seeing her concede control to Lilian did more to make him question whether they truly needed to be arguing more than any apology from her could have.
“Fine,” he said.
Lilian led him out into the hall without saying another word, which he suspected was for the best.
CHAPTER 6
Lilian led him through Hexadonia’s dark, drafty hallways until they arrived at a renovated chamber. Much like Kastet’s audience room, it held a carpet and fresh furniture, including a bed with clean sheets and pillows.
She lit the lantern next to the door for him and gestured to the hearth. “There’s firewood in the room at the end of the hall if you feel the need to warm up. I could also draw you a bath if you’d prefer.”
A smile twitched at the corner of her mouth, and Damon couldn’t help but return it. She’d helped him bathe on the day they’d met, at Kastet’s orders, no less. So much had changed since then, both inside and out.
“I’m fine,” he said. “I don’t mind the cold.”
Lilian nodded, but didn’t immediately move to leave the room. “Damon. As a favor to me, would you humor Kastet when you next speak with her?”
He laughed derisively. “Do you truly think that’s what she needs right now? She doesn’t understand a thing. She sees this all as a game without acknowledging that we aren’t even the players.”
“Trust me. She knows.” Lilian raised her arms and gestured to the chamber’s ancient stone walls. “Look at this place. It’s cold, leaky, decrepit… remote. The only thing it has in common with Kastet’s old life in Hearthold is that it provides her with the authority to give orders.”
“To whom, exactly? You?”
“Yes. Just me, so far, as it happens.” She smiled wanly. “I love her, you know. I did long before we ever crossed the ocean. I’m used to following her orders… fluffing her ego when needed. Handling the dirtier jobs.”
“What’s your point?”
“My point is that she isn’t wrong, not with what she’s doing, or with what she thinks is needed to accomplish it,” said Lilian. “She’s young, and at times, arrogant, but also intelligent and well-suited to the role she’s been born into.”
“You can believe that if it suits you,” he said. “I have more pressing matters to tend to than serving as the retainer of a princess in exile in a crumbling ruin.”
“I know that. Vel stopped by here about a week ago. She asked if we’d seen Malon. We told her we hadn’t, and that was basically the end of the discussion. She set off to continue her search.”
Damon stared at her, surprised by the sudden disclosure of information. “You… just let her go? By herself?”
“She’s a grown woman, and she’s my friend,” said Lilian. “What were you expecting us to do? Tie her down? I suppose I could have followed after her, but in the same way you shy away from feeding into Kastet’s rash decisions, I felt as though it would do Vel a disservice.”
“Still…” He shook his head. “It isn’t safe for her to be traveling alone.”
“You don’t give her enough credit,” said Lilian. “In a very real sense, we’re all just as alone and vulnerable. It’s part of the reason why I think you need Kastet, and she needs you.”
“Interesting how neatly you sidestep your own place in the passage of events.”
She chuckled. “I suppose it is. My place within the world of politics is in the shadows now. I’m here in the background, a ghost, to advise, to serve, and occasionally… to feed.”
Damon could feel the weight of her gaze on his neck. The spot she’d once bitten regularly during her time at the inn pulsed with an oddly pleasurable itch. Strangely, he wasn’t as put off by the idea of her feeding off him as he’d once been.
“I’ll accept your hospitality, and I’ll keep an open mind,” he said. “That doesn’t mean I’m agreeing to lead the charge on whatever foolish plan Kastet next pulls out from her sleeve.”
“Fair enough. I do the majority of the cooking here, so I’ll be by to bring you food and wine in a few hours. We wouldn’t want you to go hungry.”
He nodded, feeling a prickle of anticipation as Lilian slowly opened the door and exited into the echoing hallway.
***
Damon rested for a time, despite being distinctly uneasy within the chamber’s clean, carefully made bed. It was hard to keep his thoughts from wandering to Malon, Vel, and Ria.
He wondered if he was making a mistake by staying at Hexadonia instead of immediately continuing his travels and search. Would his aesta approve of him humoring the princess-turned-warmonger in place of trying to help his family?
He didn’t know for sure. Lilian had a point about the limits of what anyone could do alone. As much as the responsibility to help the people he loved weighed down on his shoulders, he was only one man. He couldn’t get along in the world by tackling every problem on his own.
Lilian arrived with the food and wine she’d promised. Damon ate a baked potato lavished with butter and several strips of dried and peppered beef. The wine was tasty, dangerously so, and he drank a cup or two more than he considered prudent.
He didn’t actually want to stay the night. It felt too much like allowing himself to be pulled back into a sphere of influence he no longer wanted anything to do with. Damon eventually left his room, lantern in hand, and made his way back to Kastet’s audience chamber.
She wasn’t there, which shouldn’t have surprised him, given the hour. The night had snuck up on him while he rested, along with some inclement weather. He could tell it was raining from the intensity of Hexadonia’s various ceiling leaks. Snow he could easily have traveled through with his myrblade in hand, but being resistant to the cold did little to deflect the discomfort of a heavy downpour.
He found a set of stairs leading to the tower and peered out over the courtyard through an old,
open window. Something felt off, and he was reminded of his first visit to Hexadonia, stumbling through the catacombs and confronting the shade that apparently lived within them. He saw a flicker of motion in the darkness outside.
A brush against his shoulder was enough to send Damon reaching for his myrblade. Lilian pulled back abruptly, moving with far more speed and grace than a human.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said. “I was just interested in what you were looking at.”
She’d changed into a nightgown barely long enough to verge out of the territory of an oversized shirt or tunic. One of Kastet’s, no doubt. It lent a girlish appearance to her otherwise unsettling features, and Damon found himself appreciating the thin, almost sheer nature of the fabric as his heartbeat slowed to a normal pace.
“Just seeing shadows in the night, I suppose,” he said. “Did you need something?”
“No. Just checking up on you.” She walked over to the window, her shoulder brushing his as she took up a place next to him. “I don’t sleep much.”
“Bad dreams?”
“No, just restless,” she said with a sigh.
Damon felt a strange, somewhat unwelcome fondness for her. She was lonely, and probably for good reason. With Kastet as her only company, she didn’t have anyone to unload onto, not really. Not in the way a person, a young woman, needs. Was Lilian still a woman?
“You give me this look, sometimes,” she said. “As though you’re still trying to figure me out.”
“I thought I had figured you out, at one point,” he said. “Not anymore. I suppose you might be right.”
There was a pregnant pause as a draft of wind blew inward through the window, spraying them with mist and drizzle. Lilian took a step back alongside him, nudging him slightly with her elbow.
“Let me feed off you tonight?” she whispered.
Sin and Soil 10 Page 3
