by Jessi Gage
The knight nodded. “Yes, Sire.”
“Assaph.” Magnus directed his gaze down the table to the priest, who jumped at hearing his name. “Your testimony is that Seona and Bilkes trespassed into your apartment before dawn, stole a key, and removed an item from the strong room. Correct?”
Assaph drew himself to his feet, hands twisting his head covering. “Y-yes, Your Majesty.” Behind his spectacles, his eyes gleamed with an earnest desire to be helpful. Danu found herself liking him a great deal. Pinning his shoulders back, he seemed to steel himself. “The—ah—item you mention was the gemstone Lord Ari used to cross the veil to the human realm.”
At the mention of a gemstone, Danu leaned forward in her seat, but Assaph was not speaking of her moonstone. Rather, he referred to Hyrk’s relic. It seemed like years ago that Duff had told her about it, when in reality, scarcely half a day had passed.
A cloud passed over Magnus’s face as he said, “Ari betrayed the crown. He lost his lordly title along with his life.”
“S—Sorry, Your Majesty,” Assaph said, but Magnus waved away the apology and spoke over him.
“The gemstone was also used to hasten the rescue of the human women found in Castle Blackstone.” He motioned to Assaph. “Thanks to you.” The priest’s cheeks colored. “Had you not secured Danu’s blessing of the stone, we would never have risked using it to create a passage between Blackstone and Glendall.”
Blessed? How interesting! She had been in no position to grant her people blessings. Here was more evidence suggesting some other power was at work in her realm. She must learn more.
“Therefore,” continued Magnus. “We know that the gemstone can be used for good or ill.” He looked to Assaph for confirmation.
The priest nodded. “It seems so, Your Majesty.”
“The question is: why did Bilkes and Seona’s seek it out?”
“Seona intended to use it to return to our home,” Anya said. “To Scotia, in the human realm.” Her intelligent eyes turned to Danu, her expression guarded.
“That explains Seona’s motivation, yes,” Magnus said, rising from his chair. He began pacing from the head of the table to the fireplace and back. “But what would a condemned prisoner want with a magical gemstone? He had already escaped from Glendall’s dungeon. Did he hope to go with Seona to her human realm, where we know there is a woman for every man?”
Several heads nodded. This motivation was plausible, probable, even, considering the state of the wolfkind population.
“This seemed likely to me as well,” Magnus said. “Until I spoke with Bilkes this morning at Lachlan’s Promontory.”
He let silence reign for several heartbeats. At last, he braced his palms on the table. His arm was so near, Danu could smell his fresh scent of forest and leather. She closed her eyes to breathe it in, but only for a moment. She must not let herself become distracted. Magnus was about to relate the events leading up to Seona’s fall. If she listened carefully, she might determine what had happened to the human.
“The testimony I am about to give does not leave this room.” Magnus met the eyes of each man and woman at the table, including her.
She couldn’t help wetting her lips in anticipation.
Magnus’s gaze dropped to her mouth. With a muffled growl, he shook his head and returned his attention to the room at large. He expelled a breath that seemed to weigh a thousand stone and said, “Bilkes is dead. I killed him.” Judging by the grim line his mouth made, he took no pleasure in the fact.
A feather could have been heard alighting on the tabletop, so quiet was the solar.
“But it was not Bilkes,” Magnus said, piquing her curiosity. “At least, not entirely.” He glanced at Assaph before continuing. “It is my belief that the prisoner was possessed. Tell me. Have you heard of such a thing, Assaph?”
Assaph’s eyes widened. Slowly, he nodded. “I have heard of possession, Your Majesty. But I have never seen it with my own eyes.”
“Neither had I, until today.” Magnus resumed his pacing. “I believe the possessing entity was none other than the god Hyrk. The same god who held my cousin in his thrall and whose power was used to bring the human women here from their realm. Assaph,” he said, coming to a stop. “We will conference today at the temple. I shall give you my detailed testimony, as will my knights Cadeyrn and Riggs, who witnessed everything. If you find our reports reliable and you feel led by Danu, you will verify the event and record it in the Archives. For now, suffice it to say I am certain I spoke with this Hyrk, and not the prisoner Bilkes. I believe it was not Bilkes who sought the gemstone, but Hyrk.”
That snake! Every muscle in Danu’s body tensed. To think Hyrk had possessed one of her wolfkind! He would pay. Oh, she would enjoy making him pay.
Assaph sank into his chair, his face ashen. “Oh, King, to think you came so close to wickedness.” He was speaking quietly to himself, shaking his head.
Each face around the table reflected the seriousness of what Magnus had just reported. It pleased Danu to see that these mortals understood how rare it was for them to play a role in a battle between deities. Thanks to Hyrk’s brazen interference, history was being made in the wolfkind realm. History was being written here at this very table. The outcome of the battle begun two thousand years ago would determine whether her people lived or died.
She would not fail them. She would not let Hyrk win.
Hatred created a second heartbeat in her chest. Her enemy had meddled in the affairs of her people long enough. It was time to put him in his place.
“Assaph.” Magnus’s tone was gentle. “I am quite hale. No harm done. But I need to learn everything I can about Hyrk.”
Assaph wrung his hands. “But—but, Your Majesty, my research has uncovered no record of such a deity.” He spoke as if this was not the first time Magnus had desired to learn about her enemy.
“I know,” Magnus said, soothingly. “Fear not. I know that you have found nothing in the Archives about a god by that name, but perhaps—”
Danu huffed a bitter laugh at hearing Hyrk called a god. “That is because he is not a deity at all,” she scoffed. “But a mere demigod seeking to steal my realm.”
The entire chamber seemed to suck in a breath.
Danu’s stomach dropped. She might be a goddess, but that did not make her infallible. She had forgotten her goal to remain inconspicuous. Seona would not be an authority on deities and demigods. She had said too much.
Magnus stilled. He studied her in silence for moments that stretched into an eternity. At last, he spread his arms and smiled, addressing the room as if she had not spoken. “This Hyrk—in Bilkes’s body—had possession of the gemstone. But when he threw—” He swallowed and started again. “I looked on as Seona snatched it from him. Ultimately, it was lost to the canyon.”
Danu relaxed as her slip faded into the past. She sat up straighter, listening as Magnus handed her the answer she sought. Seona had touched Hyrk’s relic, which had been blessed in her name. That could explain how Danu had come to be in Seona’s body. And it likely meant Seona was locked in Hyrk’s dungeon in her place.
Worry made her hands clench into fists. No mortal could survive the cold power of those bars. But wait. Seona would no longer be mortal. She would be...a goddess.
“When I killed Bilkes, Hyrk left his body,” Magnus was saying.
Danu forced herself to pay attention. She must repair this swapping of bodies, and to do so, she must learn all she could. She gathered Hyrk had not succeeded in reclaiming his relic. This was good news. But he would not stop trying. He must not be allowed to get his hands on it a second time. With his power restored and hers unavailable to her, her people would be sitting quail. So would she.
“That means he could be anywhere.” Magnus said. Again, he locked gazes with each person in the solar. “Inside of anyone,” he said as his eyes met hers.
She stirred, uncomfortable with his attention, though she couldn’t place the reason.
&
nbsp; Magnus stood tall, returning his attention to the whole table. “He will no doubt continue to seek out the gemstone. If he succeeds, there is no telling how much power he will wield or what he will do with it. What is clear—” He traded a significant look with the knight he had addressed as Riggs. “Is that he hates Danu and intends to destroy her creation.” He pounded a fist on the tabletop. “We must prevent this at all costs.”
Murmurs of agreement sounded around the table. The mood in the solar shifted. Action was imminent. Danu bristled with eagerness to act, even as a strange heaviness began to pull at her eyelids.
“Assaph, we will conference in the temple in one hour,” Magnus decreed. “I must learn all I can about Hyrk.” At Assaph’s panicked look, he added—“I know you found nothing in the Archives, but I would like you to search your library of poems for any mention of this demigod.”
Assaph’s brows rose in surprise, but he nodded. “Yes, Sire.”
“Riggs.” Magnus addressed the younger of the two knights, the one with his arm around Anya. “You will gather as many men as you need and search for the gemstone in the canyon. You saw where she—” He cleared his throat. “Where it fell. Bring several pups with you. They have more recent practice with hide-and-seek.” He smiled warmly, the expression dimpling his bearded cheek, before sobering. “Look as long as you have to. Tonight’s moon shall be nearly full. It will light your way. The gemstone shall be returned to Assaph’s care by the rising of the sun. I have spoken.”
“My king has spoken, and it shall be done,” Riggs said with a fist over his heart.
Danu watched the room clear. She wished to know whether her assumption was correct, that Seona was in her place in Hyrk’s dungeon. She needed to speak with Duff. He’d been there when she had been thrust into Seona’s body. He would know if Seona had been thrust into hers. But how would she summon him? She had no power in this mortal body.
Huffing with annoyance, she cursed her lack of power. Never before had she felt helpless. Not even as a child, because she could always ask for whatever she desired, and her father would grant it. Here, there was no one she could ask for help regarding what had happened to her and Seona. Adding to her dismay, her eyelids continued to feel heavy. Her stomach groaned painfully—and audibly, judging by the glances of those closest to her.
“Lady Seona,” Magnus said quietly. “Is all well?”
She forced her features to calm. “Well enough,” she answered vaguely. She did not wish to tell lies. Small deficits in morality paved the way for larger ones, and soon, a good heart could be blackened with selfishness. She would guard her identity and perform her investigations with as little deception as possible. Absently, she rubbed her stomach and tried to blink away the heavy feeling in her eyelids.
“She needs a meal,” Anya said, locking eyes with Danu. “And rest. ’Tis plain she is hungry and weary. I’ll see to her.”
Danu stiffened, not only because having Anya “see to her” was the last thing she wanted, but because she had never before experienced hunger or tiredness. As a goddess, she ate food not because she required it but because she desired it. She spent time in bed for carnal reasons, but never to close her eyes and sleep the way mortals did.
Magnus said, “I will see to her. You may spend time with your sister once she is well fed and well rested.”
Danu relaxed. She would not have to face the fierce little human yet.
Magnus dismissed the others and escorted her to the room he referred to as the Orange Blossom chamber. Once Daly had brought a heaping tray of culinary delights, Magnus left her with six guards, two outside her chamber and four inside. He promised to return after he had spoken with his priest.
Only after she had eaten and lain down upon the soft bed did it occur to her that Magnus’s manner with her had been much more reserved than before the meeting. Was it because he had so many concerns demanding his attention, or was it something else?
Before she could develop theories or figure a way to contact Duff, her eyes closed, and she was lost to mortal slumber.
Chapter 11
“Your Majesty, a word.” Daly stepped into Magnus’s path, his face drawn with worry.
“It will have to wait, Daly.” His head of household was late bringing the midday meal he’d requested for Anya and Seona. This was not at all like Daly, and suggested all was not well for his trusted servant. But he had no time for household matters. He must conference with Assaph immediately.
Leaving Daly sputtering in the east-wing corridor, he made a beeline for the eastern entrance, which led across Glendall’s terrace to the temple. Already, he’d been waylaid by Nathan, an elderly council member, who had heard rumors about the morning’s events. If he had no time for his head of household, he certainly had no time for rumors. However, he could not risk offending his council. He had forced himself to pause long enough to politely refer the man to the council head, Clem, who had been present at the meeting.
If Magnus missed his betraying cousin at all, it was at times like these, when his schedule felt strained to the breaking point. It was Ari who used to intercept questions and assist Daly when he had matters to discuss. It was Ari who would smooth ruffled feathers in the council and distill the day’s events into a manageable list of tasks before bringing them to Magnus’s attention.
He would have to appoint a new second, and soon. But he did not relish the time it would take to consider candidates. Or the inevitable uncertainty. So many men—and even some of the women—had proven themselves disloyal of late that he doubted he would ever trust again.
The absence of a reliable second, like so many other issues, would have to wait until he could resolve this latest crisis. Treachery was afoot, and every minute he was away from Seona was an opportunity Hyrk might use to strike again. He must find Assaph and share his recent suspicion before he convinced himself it was too daft to mention.
With the doors to the terrace tantalizingly near, he picked up his pace. One of his guards rushed ahead to open the door. Magnus was just about to barrel through when something caught on his sleeve.
“Ye’d think the hounds of hell were after you the way yer rushin’ about!” Anya lunged for him and made a fist in his shirtsleeve. Her grip, surprisingly strong for her tiny size, effectively stopped him in his tracks.
He glared at Cadeyrn, the knight serving as one half of his guard this afternoon. It was his job to keep anyone from laying hands on the king of Marann.
Cadeyrn looked helplessly between Anya and Magnus, and Magnus had difficulty faulting him. There was a ferocity about the little human that struck fear into the hearts of most men, regardless of their size or training. Then there was the lifemate scent surrounding her, reminding every other man that she was not to be handled for any reason by anyone save Riggs. Of all the citizens in Chroina, Anya was the only one who could come so near without his guards intercepting her first.
Leave it to her to do so when he had urgent business. “What do you want?” he barked, perhaps more tersely than was required.
“Och! Ye have me fair puckled chasin’ after ye, and that’s the greeting ye choose?” It was then he noticed that she had the hand not curled in his sleeve pressed to her side. Quick breaths made her shoulders heave, and sweat had broken over her brow.
She should not be straining herself thus. It could harm the precious jewel she carried in her womb.
How callous he’d been!
His urgency lifted, and only concern for his subject—and friend—remained. “Sit, Lady Anya.” He crowded her toward a bench upholstered in the gilt fabric his mother had filled Glendall with when Magnus had been a pup. “Where is Riggs? Shouldn’t he be minding you?”
She refused to be pressed onto the bench, using her grip on his arm to remain standing. “Minding me?” Her chin tucked, and her eyes widened murderously. She seemed recovered from her efforts to chase him down. “I need no minding! And do ye no’ recall? You sent him to find that bloody gemstone. And find it h
e will.”
“My apologies, my lady.” Anya was the only being he ever uttered apology to. She was also one of the only people who dared challenge him when he had offended her, a quality he quite admired when it did not consume him with annoyance.
Finally releasing him, she waved away his apology. “No time for that nonsense. I ken how busy you are. I doubt yer coursin’ through the keep like a runner at the games for yer good health. I wouldna trouble you for somat that wasna of utmost import.” She glanced at his guard, shifting on her feet. “Magnus.” Her tone went still and serious. “That woman—she is no’ my sister.”
Anya’s brow creased. All the bravado she normally cloaked herself with slipped away, and what was left gave him pause. Anya was well and truly concerned.
As was he.
Choosing his words carefully, he said, “I told you. She has lost her memory. Of course she would not seem like herself.”
She jerked her head in fierce denial. “No. ’Tis no’ memories she lacks but herself.”
His skin prickled. He was not alone in his suspicions. “Explain.”
Anya wrung her hands. “I ken my sister. E’en after all she’s been through in Larna, she was still Seona. Now—” She expelled a breath of frustration. “She’s all wrong. Her voice. Her manner. Her expressions. All of it. E’en if she has no memory of who she is, she should yet speak like herself. She should yet move like herself. ’Tis as if another person has taken up her body like a living doll. I dinnae like it, Magnus. Somat is wrong. Where is Seona?”
That was a very good question. One he planned to discuss with Assaph.
“Come.” He offered his arm, bracing himself to endure her lifemate scent. Slowly, he was growing used to it, but he would never enjoy close proximity to the little human, not when the constant reminder of her union with Riggs battered his senses.
Understanding lit her face as she accepted his arm. “You ken it already. You believe me.”
