by Megg Jensen
It would be best if Nemia were the one who was dead.
“I wish I were, too,” Rafe said quietly.
Nemia gazed at him, her eyes searching his. “Why?”
Rafe spread his arms. “Look at what’s become of our castle, our city, our orcs. Everything I’ve ever worked for has fallen into ruin. Forces of evil are intent on killing every last one of us, and I am powerless to help. I’m a failure, my daughter.”
He sighed heavily and sank down on a chair. Dust enveloped him, and a rock lodged itself in his arse. Still, he hunched over slightly, giving the impression he was weary. It wasn’t too hard to fake.
“Have I ruined everything?” He bit the inside of his lip. “I wish… I wish I could go back and change it all. I wouldn’t have pushed you away. I wouldn’t have brought Sabniss into my life. Perhaps…”
Nemia moved a bit closer to him.
“I’m sorry, Nemia.” He looked up at his daughter, hoping remorse oozed from his every pore. Maybe she would take his words to heart and tell him where his love, Agamede, was. Once he had her safe…
A deep chortle burst from Nemia’s lips. “Oh, my poor, poor father. Should I take pity on you and spill all my secrets? I think not. My mother is no longer your concern. You left her here to die with the rest of us.”
“No!” Rafe sat up straight. “She chose to stay with you. I asked her to come with me, but she insisted you needed her.”
Nemia bent over, her eyes searching his. “I sense you’re telling the truth. That’s interesting. I never suspected she stayed for me. She certainly never told me that. If she had, maybe things would be different. Maybe I wouldn’t have treated her the way I did.”
Rafe held in his rage. How had Nemia treated Agamede? “Tell me,” he demanded.
“No,” Nemia said simply. “Go away.”
“I’m not leaving until I know what you’ve done with my wife, you evil witch.” He regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth.
To his surprise, Nemia laughed again. “I knew you hadn’t changed. I knew you weren’t regretful. How could any father throw away his own child simply because of a facial disfigurement? There wasn’t anything wrong with me until you tossed me aside.” She leaned over him and whispered in his ear. “You created this monster, Father. Your actions led to the destruction of the orcs—which will in turn lead to my eventual rule. Thank you.”
She lifted a hand toward the door, then curled her fingers into a claw. A choking noise came from the hall.
Rafe heard that noise before—when Sabniss died. “No!”
He jumped out of the chair, ran past a cackling Nemia, and flung open the door. On the floor lay Berylla, her eyes bugging out of her head, her neck bent at an unnatural angle. He rested his fingers on her neck. No pulse. No life.
He spun around to face his daughter. “How did you know?”
“I know so much more than you may ever suspect.”
“I will find Agamede, and I will destroy you.”
“Don’t worry, Father. You destroyed me once. I suspect you won’t succeed a second time.”
The door slammed in his face.
Chapter 23
Nemia stewed in her room. She could hear her father outside her door, trying to revive the orc he’d brought with him. It wouldn’t work. When Nemia reached out with her mind, she had broken the orc’s neck. She’d learned a lot since she’d murdered Sabniss, testing her skills on infected orcs while she and Azlinar waited for the right time to send forth their army.
Unfortunately, their plan hadn’t worked. Azlinar died. And now she was stuck back in the ruined castle with her pathetic father looking for her worthless mother.
Her father burst through the door. “You killed her. I brought her to help you!” Rage steamed through his pores and his green face turned a deep red. “Take me to your mother now!”
Nemia sighed. He was beginning to irritate her. She tilted her head, staring at his thick neck, wondering how long it would take to crush his windpipe. Not long, she suspected. He was older and frailer than when she’d last seen him. The destruction of Agitar must have weighed heavily on him during his flight.
Yet now he was back—and her claim to the throne was threatened by his very presence. She needed to be rid of him for good. And yet… she could not bring herself to kill him. That irritated her more than anything else. It was the same with her mother. She kept the woman alive, despite all the horrible things she’d done. Nemia knew she was nothing but trash to them. Perhaps that was why she wouldn’t waste her magic to kill them. They were trash to her as well.
“Fine,” she said. “If I take you to her, will you promise to go away and never return?”
The anger fell from his face, replaced by a glimmer of hope. But he was guarded, unsure whether to believe her. “Do you mean it? Agamede is alive, and you will reunite us?” He took a step forward.
Nemia stopped him with a raised hand. “Touch me and you die. You know what I can do. If you wish to have any chance to reunite with that beast you call a wife, then you will do exactly as I say.”
He slowly put his hands in the air.
Nemia placed her hands on her bed and pushed it to the side with all her might. Underneath was a hole leading to the servant hallway directly below her chambers. Nemia sat on the floor and edged closer to the opening in the floor. She quickly dropped herself onto the top of a cabinet below her, and hopped to the floor. Then she motioned for her father to follow.
When he dropped down beside her, Nemia took off down the hallway at a run, following twists and turns as she navigated the bowels of the castle. Looking over her shoulder, she wasn’t surprised by her father’s expression of wonderment. He’d likely never even seen the servant passageways, despite the fact that they went everywhere, so the servants wouldn’t have to sully the royal halls with their presence. As a small child, Nemia had wondered how the servants managed to appear outside rooms without having traversed the halls. But after she’d been thrown away like garbage and forced to be a servant, she’d learned the ins and outs of the castle.
She stopped at a heavy wooden door, splintered and broken with age. This led to the mines, where Nemia lived underground with the family that had been forced to take her in when her parents discarded her. She rested a hand on the door and turned to her father.
“Are you prepared?” she said. “You will see things that may disturb you.”
Rafe rubbed the back of his neck uneasily.
Nemia turned her back on him and smirked. In reality, there was little of interest in the tunnels now. The infected had exited with her, and their bodies were scattered across the prairie in defeat. All that remained were empty tunnels, echoing with memories of those long gone. But those alone would likely upset him. Just as her father had never seen the servant passageways, he had never entered the mines. He had preferred to pretend the castle ran itself, and that the riches he collected from the hard work of the miners just magically appeared in his coffers.
He had been a terrible king. Nemia knew her rule would be exactly what Agitar needed.
She only had to dispose of her parents to ensure nothing would stand in the way of her ascension to the throne.
She led her father into the mines, down toward the place where she and Azlinar had conspired. When the army had left to destroy the orcs aboveground, she’d left her mother down there with enough food and water for a week. It had now been a little longer than that. Nemia hoped her mother had survived, though, or she’d have to figure out another way to dispose of her father. And his anger would make it harder for her to kill him. She’d learned that adrenaline worked against her magic; an unsuspecting victim was an easier kill.
It wasn’t long until they stood before the doorway to her mother’s room. Nemia pulled a heavy iron key from a pocket deep in the folds of her dress, slipped it into the lock, and turned it with a loud clunk. She reached to open the door, but her father nudged her out of the way and opened it himself.
“Agamede!” he called out as he rushed into the room. He sank to his knees in front of his wife, who lay on the floor, her eyes open and her cheeks sunken. She moved her lips, but no sound came out.
He whipped his head around. “She’s dying. How could you do this to her? Your own mother!”
Nemia couldn’t help it. She laughed so deeply her belly ached. “After what the two of you did to me, you deserve worse.”
Before he could answer, she slipped back out of the doorway, slammed the door closed behind her, and locked it.
Her father threw himself against the door. It shook as he slammed into it, over and over again. But Nemia knew it wouldn’t break. At one time, this door had held in fifty of her infected, and all their strength hadn’t been sufficient to break the door down. She credited the clever miners who’d built safe rooms underground to shield themselves from blasts.
Yes, this door would hold her mother and father for all time, their bodies wasting away until all that remained were their bones.
Chapter 24
Ademar tried to ignore the gapes and wide eyes as he walked through the town square of Soleth with Frensia. It was unusual for other races to visit, and he was sure this was the first time an umgar had set foot on human soil. Frensia’s shiny silver skin and lanky limbs stood out among the humans’ brown skin and stocky builds.
Soleth was a large city, with thousands of people, soaring towers, and houses packed in tight streets. Though it wasn’t as large or as grand as Agitar, it was the main hub of the human population in Doros. Ademar grew up in a cramped house on the outskirts of this city, to parents of humble means. His father was a vegetable vendor, his mother a domestic worker. They taught him to work hard and be honest, two traits he’d carried with him when he left Soleth behind to follow Hugh to Agitar. His mother cried that day; his father patted him stoically on the shoulder. But neither attempted to hold him back. They trusted their son’s judgment, knowing he’d be home to visit as soon as it was possible.
That was a few years ago, and this was the first time he’d returned.
“I am delighted you’ve brought me to your home to meet your parents,” Frensia announced loudly in front of the throngs of people milling about the town square. “We haven’t known each other long, but I’m sure they will see the value in our relationship.”
Ademar cringed as a silence descended upon the square. Only the steady drip of the large fountain in the center broke the quiet. He grabbed Frensia’s arm and tugged them forward. He felt a blush blossoming on his cheeks, not at the umgar’s words, but at the thought they suggested. He had often considered bringing Tace home to meet his parents. He had supposed he might ask her after everything calmed down in Agitar—but now it seemed as though that might never happen.
“Who’s your friend, Ademar?” a voice asked.
Ademar stopped, a little surprised he’d been recognized. He had known Frensia would garner attention, but he’d assumed he would go unnoticed. His eyes searched the unfamiliar faces, then stopped on a smiling mug he hadn’t thought of in many years. Ademar had known that face since boyhood.
“Frader! Get your arse over here and say hello properly.”
Frader pushed through the crowd. “Go back to your own business, people. Stop looking at my friend and his companion. Go on now.”
The gawkers turned their stares away from the odd pair and resumed their business.
Frader threw his arms around Ademar, clapping him heartily on the back. “I’ve missed you. Glad to see you finally had the sense to come home. Who’s your friend?” He stepped back and held out a hand to Frensia.
“I am Frensia, Ademar’s steadfast companion.” Frensia dropped their hand in Frader’s, who gave a strong shake.
“And I’m Frader, Ademar’s best friend. Well, at least until he decided to leave Soleth for the cold northern reaches of Doros. I was beginning to wonder if he preferred orcs to humans. But now I see his tastes run in another direction.”
Ademar laughed. “Frensia is my friend, not my lover. We’re here to look for something I left behind. Besides, I figured it was time I saw my parents.”
Frader’s face fell. “No one sent word? I thought…”
“What?” Ademar’s stomach dropped.
Frader hesitated. “I’m sorry, Ademar. Your parents died in the fight in Agitar with the orcs. I thought for sure someone had sent word.”
Ademar felt sick. He knew most of the humans of Soleth had left their homes and their livelihoods to fight in Lissa’s war with the orcs after Hugh’s death, but he had never imagined his parents had been among them. For some reason, he’d just assumed they stayed home where it was safe. Particularly his father, who had a weak heart.
“Why?” It was all Ademar could think to ask.
Frader shrugged. “The queen ordered, and we followed. You have no idea what it’s been like here since word of Hugh’s death came to us.”
The truth was, Ademar knew the humans’ campaign against the orcs was unjust. Hugh had taken his own life. True, had he waited just a bit longer, Tace would have taken it for him, but that wasn’t what happened. Which meant there had been no reason for Lissa to march against the orcs. It was an ill-fated war, brought to its knees quickly by the xarlug’s emergence.
Frader lowered his voice. “Ademar… I saw you with them. I recognized you. Don’t worry, others did not, and I kept your secret. I trust you.”
“Isn’t that lovely?” Frensia said, bursting into the conversation. Ademar had forgotten the umgar was there. “Now that the two of you have reminisced, may we proceed to Ademar’s childhood home? We have an item to fetch. Then we’ll be on our way.” Frensia shot Frader one of their fake smiles.
“If only it were so simple,” Frader said. “After we returned from the war, the homes of those who had died were given away to others. I don’t know if you’ll be able to get what you seek as easily as you were hoping.” He pointed down the street. “Although you do know the person who lives there now. Do you remember Edmun?”
Ademar held back an eye roll. Ed had been his rival as a child. Everything Ademar did, Ed had to do better. Ademar had quickly grown weary of the competition, but Ed would never let it rest.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he said, hoping his tone fooled Frader. “We’re all adults now.”
“Still have a positive outlook on everything, don’t you? Well then, let’s give it a go.”
As the three made their way down the street, Frader turned to Frensia. “So why are you here with Ademar? Bodyguard?” He laughed. “Ademar never was much of a fighter.”
“I am Ademar’s long-time friend and companion. I suspect we will be bonded until the end of our days.”
Frader whistled. “How long have you known each other?”
“A couple weeks,” Ademar said. He tried not to laugh at the baffled expression on Frader’s face. He and Frensia had shared an experience that made it feel like they had known each other forever. Honestly, he couldn’t argue with Frensia’s assessment of their friendship.
When they arrived at his old house, Ademar took a deep breath, raised his fist, and knocked. He wondered if Ed would even allow him to enter. Hopefully time had dulled his competitive streak.
The door creaked open and a pair of eyes no higher than Ademar’s knees looked up. “Who are you?”
“My name is Ademar. What’s yours?” Ademar knelt down to be face to face with this little girl with chestnut ringlets dancing upon her shoulders.
“Emma.” She turned around and yelled, “Mama, there’s a stranger at the door!”
A woman with black hair opened the door all the way while pushing Emma behind her. The little girl, curious and brave, peeked out from behind her mother’s skirts.
“How can I help you?” She eyed Ademar suspiciously, then moved her gaze to Frader. “Ah, Frader, who have you brought me?”
“My name is Frensia!” The umgar stepped into view.
The woman gasped, and her ha
nd flew to her chest.
Ademar quickly thrust out a hand. “I’m Ademar. Ed and I were childhood friends. Is he home?”
“No.” The woman fumbled, trying to keep Emma behind her. “What is this, Frader? Are these people to be trusted?”
Frader bowed. “On my word, you can trust them. Ademar lived here as a child. He feels he may have left something behind.”
“Oh no, I cleaned this house bottom to top when we moved in. I threw away everything that was broken and donated the rest. There is nothing left here that belongs to you.” She eyed Frensia suspiciously over Ademar’s shoulder.
“Please,” Ademar said. “I left it in a place no one would think to look. There was a loose floorboard in my bedroom. Under that, I left something wrapped in linen. It’s a curious object, not a normal household item. Believe me, if you had found it, you would have known.”
“I don’t know…” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t like the idea of a stranger rooting through my house.”
“Oy, what’s going on here?”
Ademar turned around. Ed stood behind them, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“Now, Ed, we don’t want any trouble,” Frader said. “You remember Ademar, don’t you?”
A look of recognition spread over Ed’s face, and he cocked his head to the side. “So, Ademar, finally come back to prove to everyone how special you are? We all know the truth. When Hugh was killed, you ran off with your tail tucked between your legs, letting the rest of us take on the orcs.”
“Ademar has a tail?” Frensia gazed at Ademar’s backside, their hand reaching out to touch him.
Ademar swatted Frensia’s cold hand away. “No, I don’t have a tail. It’s a figure of speech.” He turned back to Ed. “That’s not how it was. I’m sorry you don’t know the whole story, and I really don’t have time to tell it. Just please, please let me look under the floorboard in my old bedroom. You can come with me. If the object isn’t there, I’ll leave, and you’ll never see me again.”
