The Vine Eater (The Magic Eaters Trilogy Book 2)

by Carol Beth Anderson

“Go,” Krey said.

  Brea flew down and landed by the door guard. Krey leaned over the roof, watching in the light of the guard’s lantern as Brea chatted with the man. With her in sight, Krey’s control over her remained strong.

  Brea’s job was to get the man relaxed enough to walk away from the door, but they’d found a guard who was a little too diligent. Even as Brea backed up, chatting the whole time, he remained glued to the door. Krey’s breathing accelerated. Come on. Get him away so I can fly in behind him.

  Krey’s power was nothing like Faylie’s had been. He was most effective when giving verbal commands, but he could also send general ideas into someone’s head. He pushed a thought toward Brea: Get him away. Try something else.

  Brea gestured to the guard to come look at something. Still, the man didn’t move his feet even a simmet away from the door.

  I gotta improvise.

  It came to him. An idea that just might work.

  Brea was shorter than the door guard. The man was looking down at her. From above, Krey could see the man’s bare head.

  Please don’t look up.

  Krey lifted off the roof. He positioned himself with his head pointed to the ground, boots straight up in the air.

  Keeping every action controlled, Krey glided forward until he was directly over the guard. Hands extended, he moved smoothly downward.

  Brea looked up. The guard followed suit. “Hey!” he shouted.

  Oops.

  Krey shot down like a bullet. He grabbed the man’s face with both hands and established a mental connection. “Silent,” he said.

  The man’s mouth closed.

  Krey let go of him and landed. “I have an important message for the king. Open the door.”

  The man complied.

  Krey’s chest ached with dread over what he had to do next. Controlling two people at once strained his mind and burned through his fuel. So he commanded the man to go to a nearby office. The guard obeyed. In the office, Krey compelled him to hand over his keys and explain which ones opened which doors.

  After instructing the guard to sit against the wall, Krey opened his pack and retrieved the bottle he’d taken from the pub. It was a strong liquor, laced with an illegal substance extracted from the Anyarian vinnin plant. Everyone referred to the drug as vin.

  In very small doses, vin sent the user into a state of deep relaxation. In slightly larger doses, it knocked someone out. While it was powerful, it was rarely toxic.

  That fact didn’t eliminate the twist in Krey’s gut. This was the best way he’d thought of to put the guards out of commission, but that didn’t make it okay.

  He held out the bottle. “Drink,” he said. “Four large gulps.”

  The guard obeyed. Within a minute, his mouth curved into a slow, intoxicated smile. Seconds later, Krey’s connection with the man snapped. Krey gasped. He hadn’t considered the possibility of drunkenness having such a result.

  But the guard wasn’t upset to find himself in a bathroom with two strangers. He simply took both their hands and slurred, “This is so very, very nice,” before slumping into unconsciousness.

  Krey used cloth to gag the man and rope to tie his hands and feet. He had to be sure the guard couldn’t easily get free if he woke early. That done, he and Brea returned to the hallway outside the office.

  The palace was silent at night. They traversed one corridor after another, carrying the guard’s lantern. Before long, they reached the door leading to the hallway between the administrative wing and the residence.

  After handing Brea the keys, Krey hid behind the door. Brea unlocked and opened it.

  A male guard on the other side of the door said, “Who are—wait, are you that new flyer?”

  “Yes, the guard at the door sent me with a message. But I saw something concerning on my way here.” Having repeated the words Krey had told her to say, she backed away from the door and pointed.

  The guard walked in. Krey touched him, established control, and whispered, “Tell your partner at the end of the hall that you need to check on something. Say whatever is necessary to keep them calm. Then come back here with me and remain silent.”

  Krey watched from the darkness beyond the lantern’s light as the guard stepped into the hallway and said, “Hey, I need to check on something. I’ll be right back.”

  “You know we can’t leave our posts,” a female voice said.

  “It’s just in this room. It won’t take long.” When there was no response, the guard walked around the door.

  “I need you to sit over there.” Krey pointed at a heavy armchair.

  The man obeyed. It didn’t take long to drug him into oblivion. Krey whispered instructions to Brea and hid behind the door.

  Brea walked to the doorway, calling, “Something’s wrong with your partner. He just fell over.”

  The female guard cursed. In seconds, she was within Krey’s reach. Krey’s breathing slammed to a stop. His hand halted halfway to the guard. He knew this woman. They’d joked around with each other when he lived here. Now he’d control her. His mouth grew dry with dread, even as his heart raced with anticipation.

  She turned and squinted. “Krey?”

  He grasped her hand and established control. “No talking. I’m genuinely sorry for what I have to do. It’s nothing personal.” It was a terrible, meaningless apology, but nothing he could say would make this right. A couple of minutes later, she, too was seated and unconscious.

  Krey and Brea gagged both guards and tied them to their chairs. After taking the female guard’s keys, Krey extinguished the lantern and set it down. He led Brea down the corridor, which was lit by electric bulbs.

  “Unlock the door,” he said, handing Brea the keys. She tried one after another, the jangling metal making Krey grimace. When the knob turned, he released a sigh.

  They entered the dark residence. Krey remembered enough of the layout to get to Nora’s quarters. He’d never been to the king’s rooms though. He and Brea crept through the large home, groping along walls and bumping into furniture.

  When they entered the home’s main living room, the sweet, subdued smell of Anyarian brain matter reached Krey. Saliva flooded the space under his tongue. He swallowed. Could other people smell it too, or had his recent ingestion of the fuel increased his sensitivity to it?

  He breathed through his mouth, trying not to take in the distracting smell. Crossing the room, he looked down the dark hallway that led to Dani’s and Nora’s quarters. Surely Ulmin slept somewhere nearby.

  Krey knew Nora would want him to rescue her aunt. But he didn’t have long. The guards would wake. One of them might even break free. The king was his top priority.

  He kept walking. Ahead, a bit of light spilled from another hallway. Krey stopped and peeked around the corner.

  Two guards stood on either side of a door. It had to be Ulmin’s quarters. Krey turned to Brea, held a brief, whispered conversation with her, and watched her enter the hallway.

  “It’s Brea,” she said quietly. “The feather eater.”

  Again, she said she’d seen something suspicious—and again, it worked.

  She led the first guard out of the hallway, straight into Krey’s influence. At Brea’s insistence, the other guard came to check on his colleague. Both men were soon unconscious, gagged, and tied to chairs in the living room.

  Krey wasn’t usually superstitious, but something deep in his gut told him he’d pay later for how well his plans were going now. Or maybe that deep gnawing wasn’t fear. Maybe it was guilt for all the people he’d drugged tonight. Five guards. Then there was Brea—she was conscious, but he was enslaving her mind. Definitely including her on the list of people who have every right to hate me.

  And since he was making a list, he’d better add Nora. He’d outright lied to her. Ovrun wouldn’t be too happy with him either. Zeisha might accept what he’d done, but he suspected it would change things between them. Maybe irrevocably.

  I’ve come too far t
o stop now.

  Brea’s hand in his, Krey flipped a switch on the wall. Darkness enveloped the hallway.

  They walked to the king’s door. Krey grasped the knob.

  It turned.

  18

  Therro’s biggest ad agencies have entire departments devoted to one audience: teenagers.

  Let me tell you a secret: teens hate slick ads. You want to get us to do something, buy something, go somewhere? Persuade us it’ll change our world for the better. And convince us it’ll be fun.

  Most of us aren’t as selfish as you think we are. We want to make a difference. We just want to enjoy ourselves along the way.

  -“The Path to Persuasion” by Genta Ril

  The Derogan Chronicle, dated Quari 31, 6293

  As Nora rode on Osmius’s back, she tried to tune out Taima’s disdainful messages—things like, Humans should not be allowed to leave home until they’re three decades old. The female dragon thought Krey was mad for wanting to confront an incredibly powerful brain lyster alone.

  Nora agreed.

  They’d been flying for over an hour—Ovrun riding Taima, Nora and Zeisha sharing Osmius’s back. Both Nora’s friends were quiet. Even Osmius seemed to sense that she wanted silence. She needed this flight to come to terms with what she’d learned about Krey. Her friend. The one she trusted.

  The one she’d lied to.

  So why am I so mad at him for lying to me? Whether it made sense or not, fury burned and bubbled in Nora’s chest. Krey had spent days stringing her along, telling her he’d take her to the palace—all while he prepared to pop some brains in his mouth and fly off alone.

  Krey West was a brain lyster. And he’d lied about it for months.

  But was it a lie, when he’d simply neglected to tell the whole truth? Nora wasn’t sure.

  Maybe the only reason she was mad was because she felt so stupid. She should’ve figured out Krey’s secret faculty a long time ago. Krey wasn’t the type to get grossed out easily, yet he avoided dead animals. And he knew so much about brain lysting. She’d never questioned him when he said he’d read it in a book.

  All this time, he’d stayed away from dead shimshims because he couldn’t handle the temptation. He’d learned about brain lysting through personal experience.

  Why was he going back to a practice that, according to Zeisha, he’d left behind nine years ago? He’s an idiot. It’s that simple.

  A hand found Nora’s ankle and squeezed. “Are you doing okay up there?” Zeisha asked.

  Nora wanted to laugh. To say Zeisha was having a rough day was a massive understatement. She was ashamed of not confronting Krey. She was flying on a dragon for the first time, an experience that could be overwhelming. Despite her hatred of violence, she was prepared to storm into the palace to save the boy she loved.

  And she asked if Nora was okay.

  Did Krey understand what a jewel he had in Zeisha?

  Nora turned her head. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”

  “It’s not as fun as riding on Krey’s back, but I’m managing!” Zeisha’s voice shook a bit.

  Before Nora could respond, Taima’s voice penetrated her mind. I see the palace.

  Nora closed her eyes, releasing all her breath. She’d hoped that with the dragons’ incredible speed, they’d catch Krey on his way to the palace. Either he’d had too much of a head start, or they’d unknowingly passed him.

  Nora let the cool air wash away her anger. Time to focus. Time to save a friend.

  Even if he was an idiot.

  Brea’s hand in his, Krey moved silently through a sitting room that was barely lit by glowing embers in a fireplace. The smell of brain matter was stronger in here. Desire rushed into Krey. He pushed it away. Focus.

  They reached the door that Krey hoped led to Ulmin’s bedroom. It creaked as he opened it. This room, too, was lit by a dying fire. A shadowed figure lay on the bed.

  Still holding Brea’s hand, Krey tiptoed to the bed. He placed a hand on the king’s ear.

  The king’s mind felt like any other—open, receptive to Krey’s control. Krey’s response, however, was nothing like it had been with Brea or the other guards. Ulmin Abrios had given orders for Zeisha to be kidnapped. He’d enslaved her. Traumatized her. Now Krey was controlling the controller.

  Gone was his guilt for taking over someone’s mind. This felt amazing.

  The king didn’t wake. Krey backed away, stopping near the door. At last, he let go of Brea’s hand, whispering instructions to her. She walked to the bed and sat on the edge. Keeping his eyes on both the king and Brea, Krey turned on the light.

  “Everything is fine,” he said, repeating the phrase three times as the king sat up, blinking and rubbing his eyes.

  King Ulmin’s dark-brown eyes reminded Krey of Nora’s. Gray streaked his hair—more than Krey remembered him having before. His skin looked more wrinkled too. But he still appeared powerful, his loose pajama shirt not hiding his broad shoulders.

  “Hello,” Ulmin said in a pleasant, level voice. “You’re Kreyven West.”

  “I am.”

  “Do you know where my daughter is?”

  “We aren’t talking about that.”

  Ulmin nodded.

  Krey had spent much of the previous four days considering what he’d do once he reached the king. The most strategic option was to assassinate the man. Without Ulmin, Nora could return, claim the crown, and bring the army home.

  And she’d forever live with the grief of both of her parents being slain. Of knowing that one of her few friends had turned her into an orphan.

  Perhaps that would be what was best for Cellerin. But God help him, Krey couldn’t do that to Nora. Not unless it was the only option.

  Ulmin, however, couldn’t remain in power. Krey had to get him away from the palace. Lock him up somewhere remote. Keep him away from the fuel that let him control others.

  Then Nora could talk to her father, just as she’d planned. But those conversations would happen far away from the palace. Away from the king’s fuel and the people who might help him. Nora would have to lead Cellerin, at least temporarily. Maybe Ulmin could recover from his addiction, maybe not.

  Krey knew Nora didn’t feel ready to be queen. But she was more capable than she gave herself credit for.

  “Ulmin,” Krey said, “You’re going to get out of bed and put on your shoes. Then we’ll walk through the palace together.”

  “All right.” Ulmin pushed his blankets off his legs.

  “Brea,” Krey instructed, “stay with him.”

  Ulmin and the feather-eating guard stood. The king walked straight to his shoes, next to the door. He sat on the floor to put them on.

  Krey watched him. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but they could wait. Right now, he had to stay focused. Clutching two minds strained his endurance. Sweat beaded on his upper lip and forehead. He begged his fuel to continue giving him power.

  Nora wanted to fly Taima all the way to the palace. But it was one thing for Krey to attempt to fly in unnoticed. It was another thing entirely for a huge dragon to fill the sky, just begging armed guards to shoot her.

  They’d have to do this the hard way. She, Ovrun, and Zeisha had come up with a simple plan as they’d waited for Taima to pick them up.

  They’d stop in the woods outside the palace. Zeisha would get them over the fence. Nora would escort them through the property, keeping caynins at bay. Ovrun would be ready for any surprises.

  After an uneventful flight, the dragons landed in a clearing barely large enough for Taima’s wide wings.

  If you need assistance, call me, Taima told Nora as the humans dismounted. I would like to encounter the king again. Her tone was low and colored with cruelty.

  Nora, Ovrun, and Zeisha hurried through the dark trees, getting scratched up along the way. Within a few minutes, the palace fence was visible.

  “I fueled up as we walked,” Zeisha whispered. “I’ll get to work.”

  Time
slid by. Nora bit back her desire to tell Zeisha to hurry. At last, she heard her friend scrambling down a tree.

  “It’s ready,” Zeisha whispered.

  Nora walked to the tree, followed by Ovrun. Zeisha had used her magic to create a ladder of branches on the trunk. Even in the dark, it was easy to climb.

  At the top, Zeisha spoke softly to both of them. “The ladder arcs high into the sky. I didn’t want any guards to spot us. It goes all the way into the wooded area inside the fence, the one Nora told me about.”

  “It can hold me?” Ovrun asked.

  “Yes, it’s very strong.”

  After the next guard passed by, they proceeded. The arched ladder was indeed stable. It was also scary as hell. As Nora crawled across, she feared a gust of wind would knock her off the edge.

  From the rear, Zeisha said, “If anyone falls, I’ll use a vine to catch you.”

  The thought wasn’t all that comforting.

  At the ladder’s highest point, each of them had to turn and start crawling backward. Nora’s knee slipped off the edge, but somehow she stayed on. At last, they passed over the fence and into the wooded area. When Nora’s foot hit solid ground, leftover fear constricted her chest. She gulped air, only calming when Ovrun took her hand.

  She led her friends through the palace grounds, greeting two caynins along the way. When the residence came in sight, Nora muttered a curse. Someone had installed electric lights at the gate.

  After a quick huddle, the three friends approached the residence from the rear. Nora didn’t have any fuel, so making an ice ladder wasn’t an option. Once again, Zeisha would have to get them over the fence.

  She created a long ladder, this one of vines. Ovrun coiled up half of it and hurled it over the fence. He held the ends of the ladder in place while Zeisha scrambled up it to cover the barbed wire with more vines. She descended and told Nora, “Be careful up there.”

  Nora climbed up. The vine ladder was floppy and awkward. At the top, barbed wire snagged her pants as she attempted to turn around. She broke free and climbed down the other side, quietly greeting two caynins. As she neared the bottom, the animals sniffed her and wiggled with glee.