by Eliza Tilton
I disengaged from her. “Only Gerard survived. Do you know what happened to the rest?”
“Not yet, but I have sent out one of my personal scouts. He should report back within a week.”
“The Council is not going to be pleased.”
Lucy cleared her throat. “Eldesar has called a meeting.”
I backhanded her across the face. “I want these boys dead!”
This was turning into a disaster. Eldesar had already warned me once about sending men out of Daath for what he deemed unnecessary assignments.
“I will see to it personally.”
“No.”
“Lucino, I will—”
“Enough! You will stay here and be Jeslyn’s caretaker.”
“You want me to babysit?”
“Yes, a job you are more suited for.” Lucy glowered. I knew it would agonize her, such a menial task. I placed a hand on her shoulder. “She will be awake soon. Go and introduce yourself, and do make sure she’s properly dressed for dinner.”
Lucy bowed and walked away, her frustration clearly visible in her loud steps.
Chapter Twenty-two
JESLYN
Hours ago, I’d been a prisoner. Now I sat in a room of royalty, richly decorated with a speckled granite fireplace and an oversized white bear rug. Ruby silk draped the mahogany four post bed. Garnet and maroon pillows covered the bed, matching the delicate rose petals on the buttercream wallpaper. My mind was hazy when I first woke, and it took a while to get my bearings straight, but after soaking in lavender bubbles, I felt like myself again.
I brushed my knotted hair with a silver comb I found on the table. The hot bath had washed away the past weeks’ grime leaving my skin soft and smooth. It was the nicest bath I’d ever taken.
The brush passed through my hair methodically. I sat on a velvet seat in front of a large oval mirror that hung above a vanity table, arrayed with perfumes and powders my family could never afford. I loved my home, but my heart had always desired finer things. I wasn’t meant to live on a farm pulling weeds and milking cows.
I wanted to believe in this fairytale setting, but my heart refused to be steady. I recited the prayer for protection. When I spoke the final words, an intense urge to flee swept over me. Even though this was all very wonderful, I couldn’t trust it. I had to leave.
I threw the brush and ran to the door. I grabbed the knob and the door opened.
“Going somewhere?”
In the doorway stood a catlike girl with black hair. She wore a full-length gown, laced in a tight bodice, revealing too much skin. Around her neck hung a giant sparkling ruby—the biggest gem I’d ever seen.
She circled, inspecting me. “Hmm, such a pretty girl shouldn’t be dressed in such dreadful attire. I’m sure there’s something in here you can wear.”
The girl walked to the armoire and flung open the wooden doors. Hanging inside were a myriad of gowns. She took a honey brown dress off the rack.
“This will do.” She threw the dress at me. “Get dressed. I’ll return for you in a few moments.” She opened the door and looked back at me before leaving. “The name is Lucy.”
The door slammed shut, confirming no escape.
Chapter Twenty-Three
LUCINO
I sat at the head of the table waiting for Jeslyn. Bowls of fresh cabbage dressed in a lemon-garlic sauce and honey breads surrounded the duck in the middle of the table. She entered the room, escorted by Willis. He pulled out the chair for her.
From here, I could see the golden hue of her aura. Romulus had been correct in his choosing. Not only was she a pure vessel, but the purest human I had come across.
“Thank you,” she said, and sat at the opposite end of the table. I raised my goblet. “Good evening. How do you find your room?” “Very well, thank you,” she replied.
Watching her, I sipped the deep bodied wine.
She is ravishing. Her chestnut hair hung around her shoulders, her skin like a warm peach. I stared at her, examining each freckle lightly sprinkled around her petite nose and the loose tendrils of hair caressing her high cheekbones. I had spent decades in this world collecting women of exceptional beauty, and she was unique. Delicate features, almost perfect. Other men might not notice her left eyebrow was slightly higher than her right, but I considered the female anatomy the humans’ greatest form of art and studied it intently.
Jeslyn shifted in her seat, picking at her meal. Perhaps the kidnapping still bothered her—a minor detail.
“Does the duck not meet your satisfaction?” I asked, knowing very well it was not the taste that disturbed her but me. I relished in this and enjoyed her silence. Very few women disliked me.
“It does,” she replied. “It’s very good.” She continued in her silence.
Her lack of conversation did not bother me. I found human females tended to talk often and without good cause.
I put the goblet down and clapped my hands. Four minstrels, strumming violins, entered the dining room. I walked to Jeslyn and bowed. “May I have this dance?”
She slipped her hand into mine, and I placed a hand around her thin waist. In one swift movement, I twirled her up and around. The momentum swept her off her feet and the tiniest gasp slipped out of her. I glided around the room. Each step matched the slow melody flowing from the strings.
She gazed at me, intrigued.
“You will be happy here. There is no other place like Daath,” I whispered. “You will be loved by everyone.” I let the words sink into her mind, watching her face light with wonder.
I danced her outside and into the gardens. We stopped and sat down on a bench underneath a rose-covered archway in front of my favorite fountain. A marble statue of a serpent encircled the stone woman standing in the center, water spurting from her mouth. This symbol represented conquest of the humans.
Jeslyn stared at the beds of sunny yellow and cadmium roses. No one could deny the beauty and magic of this land.
I grabbed her hand and she flinched. “Have you made your decision about my proposal?” I wanted her to think she had an option.
She sat in silence.
“Do you find me attractive?”
She looked away, her cheeks tinted pink.
“There is nothing to be embarrassed about,” I said.
“It’s not proper for a lady to reveal those types of things,” she said softly.
I chuckled. “By the color of those perfect cheeks, I will take that as a yes.”
She continued in her silence, not once looking at me.
“Any woman in your position would not hesitate at such an offer.”
“Am I free to go?”
“Go?”
She pulled her hand away. “You said you knew nothing about the kidnappings. My family will be looking for me. I cannot stay here.”
“I understand. I have a proposition for you.”
She stared at me with cautious eyes.
“The ball is in a few weeks’ time. You can write a letter to your family, explaining the misunderstanding and I’ll have it sent immediately. We can invite them here.”
“Mother wouldn’t believe me if I told her where I was,” Jeslyn said, looking around. “She’s always talked about Daath.”
“Then you must stay and bring her here. It’s the least I can do for the horrible way you were treated. If, by the ball, you still do not accept my proposal, I will not force you to stay.”
“It’s very kind of you, but …”
“Will you not give me a chance?”
Her fingers tapped against her thighs. I held my composure, playing the dashing lord.
“You are most gracious, but this is not my home.”
“I understand, and again, I apologize for the kidnapping. If you can wait until after the ball, I will personally escort you home, if that is what you truly desir
e.”
She glanced at the fountain, then at the roses sprouting from the nearby bushes. “How soon can we send word to my family?”
“You can script a letter to them tonight and at dawn I will send my fastest courier. He would arrive faster than we could travel.”
She breathed in, then faced me. “Very well. I will stay for the ball, but I cannot promise you anything more.”
I smiled, knowing she would give me so much more.
Chapter Twenty-Four
LUCINO
The twelve members of The Council sat around a black table debating our next move. The Eldest of the order, Eldesar, spoke.
“It is time,” he said, “for you to retreat from Daath and return to Mirth.”
“Retreat?” I said. “I have invested over a century in that place!”
Eldesar raised his hand. “This is not a discussion. We have made our decision. Your carelessness has brought too many wondering eyes. We will not risk all we have accomplished to appease your hobbies.”
I folded my hands, trying to contain the fury boiling within me. Teeth clenched, I said, “I was following this Council’s orders to find a bride.”
“You could have taken a female from Daath,” said the elder across from me. “That’s what you should have done!”
“Enough,” Eldesar said. “You will present this bride to the nobles at the ball. This marriage is for appearance. The nobles would find it odd that a young lord of your age would be unwed. There will be much talk amongst the lands once Daath is revealed. We must tread carefully. You’re absence in Daath will be reported as special business. It has been too long since you visited our people. This visit will remind you of your duties.”
No one understood the plan better than I. “Eldesar, my awakening is fast approaching. I will leave after my ritual is complete. Preparations have already begun.”
Eldesar regarded me from under his hooded cloak. He was an ancient, wise beyond years and older than any of the other members. It was no secret he disliked me, but that hatred traced beyond me, back to when my father was a prince on this Council.
“We have found the humans who attacked your men. They will be disposed of shortly. Complete your ritual and then return home,” Eldesar said, arousing unified agreements.
“We will meet again in seven days.” Eldesar lifted his dreary hand and flicked a dismissal at the group. “Leave.”
I rose and he pointed at me. “Not you.”
Holding back my annoyance, I sat down.
“Do you know how we stay in power?” he asked.
“Because we are the superior race,” I stated.
“Wrong. Patience.”
“Patience?” I said in surprise.
“Yes, our vision takes time.”
“Why not now? With our technology and magic we could easily wipe the humans out.”
“A war with the humans would cause great destruction on this planet. No, our current plan is the only way. Once our people are in the right places of power, we can begin the transition. The humans will have no choice but to serve or die. This planet is the key to our survival.”
He paused and pulled back his hood. Power emanated from his black eyes and dark green scales covered his skin. He spoke in the ancient tongue. “Your fascination with their females is becoming troublesome. I expect you to end your obsession. Be careful of your next actions, very careful, or your reign in Daath will be over.”
He eased back in his chair. “Leave.”
Without hesitation, I stood and walked out the side door. The Council building had been relocated after the discovery of the gate. The gate, though unstable at times, needed to be monitored constantly, and not just by our guard. The Council preferred to have their toys closer.
Outside, the sky bled, looking vicious and deathly, streaks of grey and indigo amongst the clouds. A hovercraft sat nearby, waiting. One of the royal guard stood watch. I did not need a babysitter. I was more than capable of handling any threat, but Father took precautions. Times were dangerous and our people frightened.
From here, I could see the triangular structure. “Take me to the gate,” I said as the guard opened the door.
“Yes, my prince.”
The hovercraft sped across the dry and barren ground. The Council was right, we had little time left.
Chapter Twenty-Five
AVIKAR
Crain Village sat on the eastern trade route, west of Nod Mountains, in Lord Thebas’ region. The Village had an unusual taste for hangings, an eerie habit that came about recently. Even the smallest of crimes could end with a noose around the neck.
We walked down the main road, and I spotted a black snake painted on a stone building with strange scratchy writing beside it. The image gave me a chill and I didn’t know why.
Three women dressed in purple and crimson robes approached me. Their eyes had a glazed appearance and each one wore a gold snake medallion. An emblem identical to the drawing on the building. I stepped out of their way—none of them noticed they’d almost walked into me. They chanted in a weird language and continued down the road.
Tarrtainya had one main religion with a few minor ones. Most people believed in The Creator or the woodland goddess, Everling. Cults never lasted or spread—The Order saw to that. I’d never been a fanatical follower of anything, but I knew those strange women were fanatical. New cults brought The Order and The Order brought trouble. I hoped they both would stay far from Lakewood.
Derrick suggested we go to the temple. We could leave the rescued girls there and then receive a blessing before we departed. I groaned, but agreed.
The large temple sat at the edge of the village. The suns seemed to shine brighter here. Four-foot-high sunflowers flanked the path heading to the temple doors. I knew each one had a library, one of the few places you could find a book. Maybe in that pile of information I could learn something useful about Daath.
One of the priests showed me to a row of books in a stuffy room beneath the temple. I scanned the dusty tomes for anything mentioning Daath. I was drawn to a worn-out brown cover. I pulled the book off the shelf and dust flew into my nose. I sneezed.
“Doesn’t anyone clean down here?” I said.
Using my sleeve, I wiped the cover. It read, Places of Old. The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t remember where I’d heard it before. I carried the heavy book to a table and skimmed through its pages. The old paper crinkled as I turned page after page, and then there it was—a picture of a waterfall with a snake coiled underneath it, eating its own tail.
My heart stopped.
That’s the same image I saw outside. How can that be?
Daath was written on the bottom of the page, and on the adjacent page, the beginning of the fabled legend. I skimmed over the lengthy tale. It sounded more like a bedtime story my mother would tell. Instead of throwing the book aside, I inspected the ornate drawing accompanying the passage. Underneath the snake were runes and a sentence that read the hidden visitor. I continued flipping through the book and stopped when I saw writings on The Puring.
Father had told me a little of the Dark Wars and how they resulted in The Puring. Magic fascinated me. Over three hundred years ago, magic entered our world. No one understood it, and everyone was
terrified. The Order had begun hunting mages, afraid they would take control of Tarrtainya. They had discovered blood crystals, a red stone that could disrupt magic, and they used the stones to subdue the mages.
The hunted fought back.
Then, The Order created the Blood Knights, whose sole purpose was to capture or kill mages. The war destroyed the lands on the western shores and it lasted three bloody years. Ever since then, magic had been controlled by The Order. If you had the ability to wield magic, and you were smart, you’d hide. Magic was a curse.
The book didn’t have any maps. The old tales abo
ut Daath suggested it disappeared into the East Sea after a terrible quake. Many men had died trying to climb Nod Mountains in search of the treasured land, said to have mystical plants and wonders unimaginable. Anyone that had ventured into the East Sea never returned.
I flipped back to the text and carefully re-read the tale. I gagged when I reached a part about a man and a woman and a line about starless nights. I slammed the book shut and banged my head against it. I didn’t have time for stupid love stories.
“Have you found what you’re looking for?” said a voice.
The priest who escorted me in stood above me. His wooden emblem hung around his neck.
“No. All that’s in here are useless stories. I need answers!” My voice echoed around the cramped room.
“Perhaps those answers can be found elsewhere,” he said, clearly asking me to leave.
“Perhaps.”
Back upstairs, I aimlessly zigzagged through the wooden pews. I passed the confessional and stopped. In order to give an offering at the altar, one had to speak with the priest first. Every temple had a high priest. One that would sit, listen to your confession, then allow you into the altar chamber.
I thought back to all the men I’d killed. I entered the scarlet curtain and plopped down on the hard bench.
“Yes, child?” the priest asked.
I cleared my throat. “I have come to confess.”
“What is your sin, my son?”
I wiped my forehead and grabbed one of my marbles. “I killed someone, well, a few people.”
When the priest didn’t respond, I continued. “I had no choice.”
“We are always given a choice. It is up to us to make the right one.”
I leaned against the dark wood and thought of banging my head against it. Why had I walked in here? I didn’t need a lecture. Trying to convince the priest, and myself, I explained my reasons. “My sister was kidnapped. The only people I’ve killed are the ones who took her and any that try to stop me from finding her.”
