by Linda Welch
“But not Gareth and Imeld. What was their position?”
“Imeld was uncharacteristically reticent. Gareth’s input was, basically, we trod on dangerous ground and should proceed with care.” A slight hitch of her shoulder. “I cannot believe they are collaborators.”
“Gareth?” Royal snorted lightly, shifted his weight. “Never. His dedication to the High House is legendary.”
He knew little of Imeld, but he did know Gareth and had for many a long year. Gareth was his mentor when he came to the High House. Gareth had somehow avoided arrest. Lawrence had one ally in the High House.
Weariness seeped into Royal’s bones. Did what had happened with the Council matter if he could not escape his prison? He had never bowed to defeatism, yet the bars were solid and Orcus held the key.
“Lawrence made me proud, Ryel,” Darja went on. “He showed such spirit. Publicly confronted by the man who threatened him, he did not quail. He demanded proof of the Council’s treachery. Orcus said it was not what we had done, but what we would do. He said our actions would rip Bel-Athaer apart. His predictions have never been wrong. Lawrence had no choice but to consent.”
Royal frowned fiercely. “Do our Seers acts against our best interests?”
“Not only they. Every Seer in Bel-Athaer grasps at power and has for decades, and our people suffer at their hands. What Cicero told us is most illuminating. He is one to gloat. He has ruled the High House from behind the scenes since the High Lady died. He cannot control Lawrence as he wishes, so plans to get rid of the boy and rule openly.”
“Cicero and Orcus are cohorts,” Royal said, stating the obvious. Although Cicero was a Seer in his own right, he could not match the Burning Man’s power. As Orcus’ trusted right-hand man, he spoke on his master’s behalf, conveying his advice to the High House. Orcus appeared when dire circumstances required his personal attendance. The two had worked together since Cicero’s inception.
Darja released a small, bitter laugh. “They are one and the same, Ryel. Two personas of one man.”
Shock leached some of the color from Royal’s face. Then, as he digested Darja’s revelation, his eyes became stormy. We thought the High House ruled Bel-Athaer, when all along it has been one man. Rage scoured his throat like acid.
“How long have you known?” he growled.
“When he brought us here.” Her hand curled around a bar. “Seers have ever been mysterious, feared creatures. As Cicero he is a friendly, sympathetic figure, and if those he questions do not respond, the Burning Man steps in. Orcus wields awe and terror as a weapon.”
Royal’s hands clasped his upraised knees, fingers digging in flesh, feeling bones beneath. Fury etched his face into a semblance of his features, a taut mask humans would call demonic. “He is not the first Burning Man. My father spoke of one, and my grandfather. Has it always been this way, one man posing as two? Why does no person know of this … perfidy?”
“We never suspected.” Darja made a sound of disgust. “Cicero said only High Lords and Ladies are privy to the secret, but Lawrence is the first in over fifty years with no one alive to tell him. To him, Cicero is a benign advisor, the Burning Man a creature he should rightly fear.”
Royal made to speak, but a sound caught his attention. Voices? He stiffened. Yes, voices, faint but unmistakable. And one of them… .
He shot to his feet and launched his body at the bars. He roared, “Tiff!”
“Ryel, what is it?”
He spun and walked back to the wall. “Tiff is here. I heard her.”
He pushed from the wall, propelled himself across the small space and rammed his shoulder into the bars. The limb went numb at first but pain soon seared through it.
“These tunnels extend for miles, they are a labyrinth. Sound is distorted. You are mistaken.”
“No.” Royal readied himself. “Tiff is why I came, Darja. The Burning Man wants her, she is his niece, a full-blood Seer.”
He ran into the bars again. And again.
“Stop! Ryel, you will injure yourself!”
Darja stood at the bars which separated them, hair falling in a tumble to partly obscure her face. Royal’s gaze went to the small topknot still secured on her head. He showed his teeth but it was not a smile. “Darja, you have something I need.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I would spontaneously combust if I didn’t cool down. I needed all my wits about me. I stopped outside Cicero’s door and pulled myself together.
I tapped on the door. “Uncle, are you there?” Uncle, dear, come out so I can knock you to next Sunday. I needed him in the passage where I had room to move with nothing to get in the way.
Heavy snores rumbled inside the room, so I rapped harder. “Uncle! I need to speak to you!”
The snoring changed to grunts and unintelligible words.
“Uncle!”
“Hecate? Is that you, child?”
“Can you come out here? I need an urgent word.”
Shuffling, then the door opened. Bleary-eyed, Cicero wore black silk pajama bottoms; long silver-white hair in two braids hung down his naked chest.
Not giving him time to marshal his thoughts, I said urgently, “Can you come with me?”
Brow creased, he joined me in the passage. “What is wrong, my angel?”
I took my arm from behind my back and aimed the Ruger. “Where’s Royal? What did you do with him?”
“Ryel? But as I - ”
I moved in and clipped him alongside the head with the barrel.
He staggered back to the wall, hand going to his head. His expression was a picture.
I imagine my expression was quite something, and my voice was a low growl. “Don’t lie to me! I didn’t even break the skin and it’s nothing to what I’ll do if you keep it up.”
His eyes went cold. “You are ill, Hecate. Return to your room and we’ll talk further in the morning.”
“The name is Tiff, and you’ll answer me or be in a whole heap of pain.” My eyes were cold as his. “I know Royal was here.”
His hand dipped in his hip pocket and came out with a small metal box.
I skittered back. He took one pace forward.
“Don’t do it,” I warned.
He smiled unpleasantly. “I am disappointed, Hecate. I had such high hopes for you.”
Call me mad, cruel, bitter, but don’t call me unfeeling. I had feelings, loathing for this man and what he’d done. Anger, but not the hot ire of moments ago; this was cold, calculating. He’d tell me what I needed to know. I’d make him.
“I see,” I said, and shot him in the kneecap.
The crack seemed to rattle the mountain, but it was my shaken equilibrium protesting the noise. Blood and gristle exploded from his leg. Darn. Now I had blood on my jeans as well as in the soles of my boots.
Cicero screamed and collapsed. The stun gun hit the floor; I kicked it away.
He sat against the wall. I stood over him as he stared at his bloody, shattered knee and whimpered.
“Tell me where Royal is or I’ll give you a matching set.”
He lifted a terrified, tear-dappled face, opened and closed his mouth. He couldn’t speak. I intuited this was the first time someone hurt him, the first serious pain he ever felt.
I didn’t recognize my voice, so cold and heavy I wonder the words didn’t freeze and drop like slugs of lead as they came out my mouth. “Shock takes the edge off, but you’ll know what pain feels like in a minute or two.” I shifted my aim. “Tell me, or I swear I will shoot.”
“I did not summon Ryel, I don’t know why he came. Nonetheless, his arrival here was opportune,” he gasped urgently, words tripping over one another. “With him in my hands, I devised a plan to lure you here. I took his phone, planted it and sent the text.”
“Yeah, I already figured most of that out. Then what?”
His eyes glinted cruelly. “I had him taken away, to a place you will never find. He’s lost to you, niece. You will never see him again.”<
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I had my gun at shoulder height, pointed at the ceiling. Now I brought my hand down and shot his foot. Blood sprayed one leg of my blue jeans. I didn’t flinch.
“He’s here!” he shrieked as he squeezed his thighs together, as if that would stop a bullet. He jerked his head. “Down there, there are cells. The keys are on the table beside my bed.”
“Did you hurt him? And before you answer, know every lie will be another bullet in your hide.”
“He is unharmed, I swear.”
I believed him. He didn’t possess the inner resolve to lie while in that much pain. My legs felt weak as relief almost downed me. Royal was somewhere in the depths of the mountain.
I wanted to tear off immediately, but had to secure Cicero. He was going to the High House with me. And I had a question for him, one I needed to ask while we were alone.
He sobbed quietly now. For a moment the sound and his agonized expression tugged at my heart. I reminded myself this man did worse to his victims than shoot them in the foot.
I hunkered down. “All you Seers, do you operate in the same way, kill people to get their secrets and pretend you’re prophesying?”
His voice was rusty with pain. “Yes, every one of us.”
“Even… ?” The words stuck in my throat. I had to clear it and try again. “Even my parents?”
He nodded.
I felt ill all over again. My parents were killers, like Cicero and every Seer in this goddamned world.
I would not contemplate it now. I stood, wondering what I could use to tie up Cicero.
“What are you going to do with me?” he croaked.
“You’re going to the High House with me, Plowman and Gryphon.”
He blanched. “You have Gryphon?”
“Yeah. You see, I already looked around your little paradise and found a few things people will want to know about.” I stepped around him, but not near enough he could grab me. The keys first, then something to tie him.
“Niece,” he whispered.
I met his eyes and didn’t care for what I saw in them; they were alight, and a pained smile tightened his mouth.
“Before you take me to the High House I would have you know something more of our history.”
“Go on,” I said warily.
“When I told you of Bel-Athaer, the Mothers and our ancestry, I knew you made assumptions and reached erroneous conclusions. I chose not to enlighten you for the time being. Your feelings for Gelpha and Mothers made me wonder if my disclosure, on top of everything else, would traumatize you. I felt sure, if I could keep you here, we would bond to the extent you would be more receptive. You were not ready for the truth then, but you shall know now.”
My mouth went dry. I got that I really don’t want to hear this feeling again. He seemed too pleased with himself, satisfaction clearing the haze of pain from his eyes.
He spoke deliberately; he didn’t want me to miss one word. “Listen carefully. I told you the Mothers found and bred us. I let you believe they took us from Earth, fresh meat for their experiments. Not so - our forefathers were already here. The Mothers became aware of an anomaly in their breeding plan, failures, a new hybrid strain more human than their Gelpha children. They did not glitter, their teeth were square. They had not the speed and strength of Gelpha, the ability to confuse the minds of others. Without fail they were tall, pale skinned, white-haired and blue-eyed. We were gathered together and held, segregated from our brethren while the Mothers studied us. They discovered these children had a unique ability. Some of them could see the dead.”
In a heavy silence, a sound escaped my lips, a low note of denial. I felt as if I’d been kicked in the gut.
He nodded, self-satisfied, drinking in the moment, enjoying my response.
My mouth came open; I couldn’t seem to bring my lips together.
Gia’s laughter belled in my head as I told her, I don’t want your blood in my veins.
You understand so little, Miss Banks.
Dagka Shan snaked toward me, head jogging side to side. I have never seen your kind before.
We were demons? I was a demon? And not any old demon, a deficient one, a failed experiment. Even the mighty Mothers couldn’t get me right.
I can find you, wherever you are, Royal once told me. I thought he meant we had a bond which drew him to me, but he sensed me as he did other Gelpha, because I was one of them.
“We are not human, Hecate. Any morsel of humankind we retained bled from our veins long ago,” Cicero continued, voice heavy with malice. “We are Gelpha, dear niece.”
His spite cleared my head. I glared at him ferociously. I refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing how I felt. I didn’t know how I felt. My mind was not capable of dissecting his announcement.
I pushed away the numbness trying to take over my brain and faked a laugh, shrugged. “Well isn’t that typical. I get to be an alien without the benefits. Super strength would come in handy right now, so I could twist you into a pretzel.”
I bent over him, chuffed out another laugh, spoke low, my jaw so tight it ached to speak. “You sadistic bastard. Is that your best shot?”
“Tiff!” Royal said.
I straightened as if invisible strings attached to my skull yanked me upright and twirled me on my toes. There he was, wearing nothing but a fearful scowl and a ridiculous little pouch. In a situation electric with tension, Royal naked was still enough to make my head spin. My gaze zeroed in on how the small piece of leather barely contained him. Then I saw the ugly, discolored splotches on his shoulders and arms. He was pale, the skin around his eyes dark, as if bruised.
I turned on Cicero, finger tight on the Ruger’s trigger. “You said he was okay.”
“I did it to myself, trying to escape the cell.” Royal said.
My lip curled. “He just saved your ass,” I snarled at Cicero.
You know those scenes where a man and woman joyously run to each other and everything slows down? Not Royal and I. He blurred, and we slammed together with such force, my bones felt the impact.
His fingers were in my hair, tracing the contours of my face, circling my neck, closing on my shoulders, sliding to my waist. “Tell me he did not hurt you.”
“I’m okay,” I murmured into his hair as I held tight to his shoulders.
He went still. His hand rested on my arm below the bandage. “Your arm!”
I could do nothing other than grin. When I was a kid, a stepmom told me if I made a face for too long it would freeze that way. I could cope with wearing a grin for the rest of my life if Royal were with me. “It’s nothing. I’ll tell you later.”
He kissed me, and the ground dropped away from my feet. Royal and I, lips and tongue, suspended in a void, clinging. We were together again, and nothing mattered beyond that.
He eventually put me back on my feet. As I had countless times before, I let his strong arm take my weight, knowing he would not let me fall. His warmth bathed my skin.
“How did you escape?”
He grinned, brought his other arm up and brandished two long hairpins before my eyes. “After I all but battered myself unconscious, I noticed Darja had these.”
“The councilor?”
“We have to get her out, Tiff. Get all of them out.”
“We could have a bit of a problem there, my friend,” Chris said from behind us.
I turned in Royal’s arm to see Chris and Gryphon, and Cicero. The Seer had dragged himself along the floor toward the outside, until Chris and Gryphon blocked his escape.
“We heard a firearm,” Gryphon said.
“That would be me,” I said brightly. At that moment, I didn’t care if I was human or other, what my parents were, how Cicero tried to use me. I cared only that Royal was here, safe, with one arm curled around me.
We joined them. Cicero had not gotten far; he lay on his face at the end of a bloody swath which made a trail from his bedroom door.
Royal saw the stun gun. His body tensed with anger
, then he picked it up and threw it at the wall. The small box came apart and fell in two distorted pieces. He put his arm around me again, but his heat did not banish the chill which swept over me and doused my elation.
He thought I defended myself, and I’d never tell him I cold-bloodedly shot my uncle to get what I wanted from him. I couldn’t bear to see disappointment in Royal’s eyes.
“People are coming from the village. They heard gunshots,” Chris said.
We could stay and fight, but could we take down all of Cicero’s people? We could zip out of here, but his men would go crazy when they found their Seer gone and blood outside his bedroom.
“We can’t leave the captives to them.”
“We have no choice,” Gryphon spat.
We needed that army Gryphon meant to recruit.
Tiff, you can be so dense. We had a cave full of demons and I knew where Cicero kept the keys to their cells. I focused on Gryphon. “Your Lordship, you don’t have to find an army, we already have one.”
Including Gryphon, fifteen Gelpha wearing bits and pieces of Cicero’s clothing stood on a broad ledge overlooking the valley. I suppose turning up at the High House wearing next to nothing would cause a stir.
Fifteen! Or sixteen if I included myself.
While Chris and Royal moved deeper into the mountain, I got what I needed from Cicero’s suite. I had a plan, but whether I could bring it off was another matter.
Two more demons, a young woman with curling ginger hair and a white-haired, black-eyed teen boy came from the cave mouth and made their way down to where we stood.
I didn’t see Gia, but I’d bet my last cent she was still here, watching to see how her scheme played out. I wanted to talk to her, but she wouldn’t come here while demons surrounded me.
