William Wilde and the Sons of Deceit

by Davis Ashura

  He’d immediately been inducted into the Third Directorate, the brutal school that forged boys into warriors and children into unflinching killers. The elves required graduates from their accursed place of blood and sorrow to battle in their endless wars against the spiderkin, the eight-legged monstrosities who, every year, spread farther and farther from the Dagger Mountains. They’d all but wiped out the vampires in their high halls of stone and blood and now threatened the elven forests.

  Of course, Cinder’s skill wasn’t through his own work alone. A large part of it was through the work of Anya, a scandalous elven princess who had taken what some might call an indecorous interest in him. Anya had opened Cinder’s mind to the truth, helping him recover the memories of who he’d once been, including their shared, ancient past. She’d lit a fierce desire for freedom in Cinder’s heart.

  He’d achieved it. Freedom. All because of Anya, a woman he knew and loved from long before this world or his current life. That same ancient past of who he truly was drove Cinder. He was free of the elves, but not of his duty. Dharma drove him, as unrelenting as any taskmaster, and Cinder would have it no other way. He had never been able to shut his eyes to the world’s evils, especially the promised despotism of this ancient foe.

  Sture snorted in derision. “I know not why you require this human scum. I could accomplish the same as he in half the time. Let me serve in his place,” he pleaded to Shet.

  Cinder didn’t bother replying. He could take Sture, and Shet likely knew it as well. In the cold halls of the Third Directorate, the elves sought to forge the world’s finest warriors and have them serve in mindless compliance. In Cinder they’d found one they thought a genius. Under elven tutelage, he’d become the finest swordsman to ever graduate the Third Directorate. He more than matched any elf in speed—never before seen in a human—and easily bested their strength. Even noble elves knew better than to challenge Cinder.

  Sture would last longer, but in the end, he’d still die. And he’d certainly not survive the spiderkin, not without a Blend.

  Shet shook his head at the titan’s declaration. “I will not waste you when a worthless human can do the task.”

  A wise, face-saving decision.

  Shet rapped his steel-shod spear against the floor of the dais, and Cinder recalled his attention to the so-called god.

  “You will attend our needs and recover the Orb held by the spiderkin,” Shet declared.

  “As you command,” Cinder said. He bowed again, but kept his gaze centered upon Shet’s visage. While he feared no man or creature, only a fool broke the gaze of a viper. And the man known as Cinder Shade, the man who more properly knew himself as Rukh Shektan, was no fool.

  DEATH APPROACHES LOVE

  July 1990

  * * *

  Jake wiped his hands on his pants and went so far as to use a tendril of Air to dry them. The last thing he wanted on his first date in years was to gross the girl out with sweaty palms. Check the breath. He exhaled into his hands. Good to go.

  Jake rolled his shoulders and readied himself. He approached the front door of the Logan family bungalow. Their house, a gray, single-story structure on Cliff Earth, faced west, and it reminded Jake of an American Craftsman-style home. Butterflies and bees flitted about the flowering bushes lining the steps rising to the wraparound porch and front door. Potted jasmines perfumed the air while a trade wind brought relief from the late-day heat beating down. Sunbeams slanted onto the stairs and front porch, and left the area baking like an oven.

  Jake swiped his palms one last time, took a deep breath, and blew it out hard and fast. Here it goes.

  He lifted a fist and rapped on the front door.

  Several seconds later, Daniella Logan answered the door. “Hi,” she said with a warm smile. Some of Jake’s nerves settled. “Thanks again for asking me out.”

  “You’re welcome.” Jake smiled back at her, the way he did in the Far Beyond when he could melt the heart of any girl. “You look great.”

  Daniella’s smile broadened, and she stepped outside. She wore a light-blue, spaghetti-strapped dress that had a similar hue to her startling, light-colored eyes and contrasted well with her brown skin. Jake also liked the way her long, dark hair framed her face. He hadn’t noticed the scattering of freckles on her nose until now. They were cute.

  “Thank you. That’s sweet of you to say,” Daniella said with an easy grin. “Where are we going for dinner?”

  “Jimmy Webster’s,” Jake answered. William had suggested it, and since Jake couldn’t do much more than make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, it sounded like a great idea. Plus, he’d eaten at Jimmy’s a few times, and he reckoned it was a great place to take a girl on a date. Even William said so.

  An instant later, Jake scoffed. When did I start taking dating advice from William?

  “Are you ready?”

  Daniella nodded. She held a sheer, gray shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders before they set off.

  It wasn’t a long walk, only a single set of stairs to reach Clifftop. Once there, Jake took a moment to get his bearings. Clusters of people wandered about with bags of fruits and vegetables in hand. They’d likely been to the recently closed farmer’s market. Some were accompanied by small bears, lions, tigers, or dogs on leashes as they headed home.

  “This way.” Daniella pointed to a shadowed alley. “We won’t have to deal with all the traffic from the farmer’s market.”

  Jake smiled at the notion of traffic in Lilith. In the Far Beyond, this would have been considering nothing more than a scattering of people.

  He followed Daniella through the alley, and minutes later they reached Jimmy Webster’s restaurant. “I’m hungry,” Jake declared. He immediately wanted to slap himself. When did I forget how to talk to women? He’d obviously been spending too much time hanging around William and Jason.

  Daniella laughed. “Then it’s a good thing we won’t have eat whatever you would’ve tried to make.”

  Jake blinked. An instant later understanding came. “Who told you about my cooking?”

  “William,” Daniella said. “He said you have trouble making toast.”

  Jake chuckled as he privately vowed to pay William back for his stupidity. A guy was supposed to talk up his friends to girls, not run them down. Still, he shoved aside his annoyance and held the door open for Daniella.

  A single, wide room held five blocky, rough-hewn tables and matching chairs. All of them contained a black sheen in the dim light. A set of wall lamps and a single candle rested in tall vases on each table, providing the illumination.

  Jimmy, a hefty, balding man wearing a stained, white apron, came out of the kitchen. He could have passed as Mel from the old TV show Alice. “Have a seat,” he said. “I’ll be with you in a bit.”

  Jake led the way to an empty table and noticed a few other couples already there. He nodded greetings to them and held out a chair for Daniella.

  “How very chivalrous,” she said.

  Jake smiled. “Three summers taking cotillion classes.”

  “Cotillion classes?” Daniella’s eyes seemed to smile whenever her lips curled upward, and her entire face lit up. “Whose idea was that?”

  “My dad. He insisted on them. I hated it.”

  “He did you a favor.”

  A sudden pang to see his family again fleetingly surged, but Jake suppressed the sensation. He didn’t want to think about the past tonight. Tonight was about the future.

  “Yes, he did,” he said in agreement. “But you know, four or five years ago, I thought my parents were the biggest imbeciles this side of that blonde girl from Three’s Company.”

  Daniella’s brow creased in confusion. “What’s Three’s Company?”

  “That’s right. You grew up without TV. It was a show from back home, and one of the characters was a ditzy blonde.” Suzanne Somers. Like a lot of guys his age, Jake had once had a crush on her. “Anyway, I thought my parents were idiots, but the thing is—,�
� he quirked a grin, “—they’ve wised up as the years have gone by.”

  Daniella took a moment to parse his words, and her reaction was everything Jake could have hoped for. She threw her head back and laughed, a sound like chimes ringing. “I like that.” Her eyes sparkled. “Wait until I tell Karla.” After a moment, speculation took the place of her humor. “Can I ask you something?”

  Jake shrugged. “Sure.”

  “Why did you ask me out?”

  Jake’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean exactly that. Why did you ask me out? You’ve been on Arylyn for almost three years, and in all this time you’ve never asked a single girl out on a date.”

  Jake better understood what she wanted to know, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to explain it to her. It was too complicated. How would she react if she found out that he’d spent the past few years wishing he could leave Arylyn and never return? He doubted she would understand. Then again, he didn’t want to lie to her.

  Before he could answer, Daniella surprised him by placing one of her hands over one of his. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “That faraway, troubled look you had on your face says otherwise.”

  “You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Jake said. Not much, anyway. “But the answer isn’t something I like to talk about. It hits too close to home.”

  Daniella nodded understanding and gave his hand a squeeze. “Well, if you ever need to tell me why, at least you know where I live.”

  Jake appreciated the sentiment although he knew he’d never take her up on her offer. As he figured things, a guy who blubbered all his problems to a girl he was interested in wasn’t much of a guy. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that,” he said and waited a beat. “If we’re only going to be friends.”

  Daniella chuckled at his response, and Jake discovered something else. He liked making her laugh.

  Serena twisted about in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom as she checked her appearance one last time. Her blue, sleeveless dress remained unwrinkled and fit her perfectly. Reed Stephens, the owner and tailor at Seville Sew, had done his usual impeccable work, and she reminded herself to thank him again.

  “You look beautiful,” Selene said. Her little sister lay belly down on Serena’s bed and her coltish legs paddled back and forth. The childish demeanor was ruined by the all-too-knowing grin on her young face. “I’m sure William will love it.”

  Serena threw a t-shirt at Selene and missed.

  Her sister pealed laughter, and the sounds drew Fiona into the bedroom as well. Their grandmother—it still struck Serena as odd to call the old raha’asra by such an honorific—leaned against the door and offered a pleased smile. “You look lovely.”

  “Thank you,” Serena said, unsure why Fiona appeared so self-satisfied. She noticed the clock and cursed under her breath.

  “Are you going to kiss William with that mouth?” Selene asked.

  “Brat,” Serena replied. She slipped on a pair of toeless sandals. “I’m going to be late. Bye.”

  “We won’t wait up for you,” Selene shouted as Serena dashed out the front door.

  She grimaced at her sister’s parting words but quickly set aside her irritation. For the first time in months, she and William would have dinner alone together. Just the two of them. No one else. Between her hours working at Sile Troy’s farm and William’s laboring on the cannon, they hardly ever saw one another except when training with the Irregulars. But not tonight.

  Tonight, William had asked her to have dinner with him. It would be at Mr. Zeus’ house, but all the other men would be out. Of course, William had said that he’d do the cooking, and Serena wasn’t sure about that. William wasn’t exactly a fine chef. Still, as they said in the Far Beyond, it was the thought that counted.

  Serena stepped quickly along the path leading through the patch of jungle that hid her beach cottage. She glanced at the darkening sky, briefly seen through the thick canopy, and cursed again. She was definitely going to be late. She cursed further when sweat beaded on her forehead. As usual, the jungle air was proving humid, heavy, and uncomfortable.

  Serena sourced her lorethasra and linked a thread of Air to the surrounding lorasra. The braid she created swiftly whisked away the perspiration. Better. She didn’t care that the weave might be considered wasteful. There was no chance she would show up to dinner covered in sweat.

  Seconds later, she broke through the jungle and reached Lilith Bay. Immediately, the air cooled as a breeze blew briskly. Serena put a hand on her hair to keep it from coming undone from its braid and turning into a mess. She’d spent too much time getting it just right, and she kept her hand on her hair all the way along Lilith Bay’s perimeter. She only let it go when she reached the silvery-stoned Guanyin Bridge. There, the wind faded, and a mineral scent replaced the briny smell of the ocean.

  As she crossed the bridge, Serena peered down the canyon where River Namaste recollected near the base of Lilith’s cliffs and traveled north. The waters surged through a broad, high-walled, moss-covered canyon carved with titanic figures from Arylyn’s mythic history. A disquiet crowded Serena’s mind whenever she viewed the statues. The carvings wore bleak, judging faces, even the ones who smiled, and she never felt worthy of their regard.

  The wind moaned through the canyon like a dying man, a grim sort of omen as Serena reckoned matters. She shuddered and hustled on her way, thankfully managing to throw off her unsettled thoughts when she reached the crushed-gravel path leading to the Main Stairs. Cool, unthreatening stars twinkled in the sky above, and she knew a crescent moon would eventually rise, but not for a few more hours.

  On reaching the Main Stairs of Cliff Spirit, Serena slowed her pace. Besides not wanting to sweat, she didn’t want to be gasping like a fish out of water when she met William.

  After ascending approximately two hundred steps, she reached William’s terrace on Cliff Spirit and took the stone pathway that edged it. A similar walkway could be found on all of Lilith’s various terraces, and in this case houses rose to her right while a steep, fenced drop-off fell to her left. Serena quickly made her way along the path until she reached William’s front door. She hesitated then as unexpected anxiety filled her stomach.

  She chided herself. It’s only William.

  Serena took a few steadying breaths and leaned on her Sinskrill training. Her nervousness faded and her heart-rate slowed. She eventually managed a sly smile, the one William liked when he thought she secretly found the world amusing.

  Now, she was ready.

  Serena knocked on the door. Seconds later William stood in the doorway.

  She involuntary inhaled in appreciation as she took in his clothes and presence. He wore gray slacks, a white, buttoned-up, short-sleeve shirt, and black shoes, but it wasn’t the clothes that took her aback. It was everything else. She’d grown used to seeing William as a disheveled mess, but here he stood, neat and tidy. He’d trimmed his unkempt mop of hair into something short and stylish and shaved his perpetually scruffy face.

  Serena had forgotten how handsome he could be.

  “You look good,” he said. He blushed the moment the words left his mouth.

  Serena smiled wider. In the past, she’d used William’s obvious admiration of her appearance as a means to influence and control him. She’d never do so again. After the worst of betrayals she’d spent the last two-and-a-half years re-earning William’s trust through honesty. It felt good to have a friendship based on truth rather than lies.

  “You clean up pretty well, too,” Serena said, which was an understatement as far as she was concerned.

  “Thanks.” William wore a pleased smile. “Come on in.” He ushered her into the house. “We’re eating in the courtyard, if that’s all right.”

  “Absolutely.” A wonderful aroma wafted from the kitchen. “What did you make? It smells delicious.”

  William grinned. “Butter chick
en. It’s Indian. Sort of like me.”

  Serena eyed him doubtfully. “You’re not Indian.”

  “Yeah, but my mom’s family was originally from there. I like to think that makes me an honorary one.”

  Serena chuckled as they passed through the kitchen and dining area into the courtyard in the back. William had hung a number of candles from the jasmine-wreathed pergola and placed a few of them floating upon the small pond formed by the waterfall trickling down the cliff face at the property’s rear. Orange and mango trees, ginger plants, red-hearted anthurium, weeping medinilla, and broad canna bordered the water. A strip of grass and a flagstone patio with an unlit firepit and several chairs filled out the space.

  William led her to the pergola, where he’d set out the butter chicken along with naan, rice biryani, spiced, roasted okra, and creamy spinach.

  Serena whistled in appreciation. “When did you learn to cook like this?” If the food tastes half as good as it smells . . .

  “Today,” William said. “Mr. Zeus talked me through all the recipes.” He surprised her then by drawing out a chair for her.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” Serena said.

  William grinned. “Consider it part of my Southern charm.”

  “I thought you were Indian,” Serena teased.

  “I am, but I was also partly raised in North Carolina,” William reminded her. A hint of his southern drawl, something not always noticed, became evident with his last words.

  Serena smelled the scent of pine when William sourced his lorethasra and lit a tall candle sitting upon the table. While he created his small braid, a thought came to her. She sourced her lorethasra and reached for William’s Spirit with a thread of her own.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. His voice carried nothing more than curiosity, no suspicion.

  When their Spirits touched, William didn’t draw away. As on the previous occasions when they’d done this, their rare connection—the bridge between their thoughts—took shape.