“Wherever did you find him?” Cryx thumped his foot on the floor as she found a ticklish spot below his chin.
“Being such a ferocious beast, he scared off my prey on a hunt several years ago and has been my ward ever since.” He knelt to see Ariana eye to eye. “I’ve been close to your brother for a long time. He took me as his student years ago, when we were still at the Iidolis. Eventually my antics won him over and he became more than a mentor, he became my friend. I introduced him to my sister.”
“Genny.” Ariana was excited to be able to follow a conversation.
Jareth was surprised. “Yes, Michael doesn’t waste any time does he? So you must already know that Jenner’s my father?”
Ariana nodded her head. “Indeed, and I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your mother as well. They’re both lovely. So, am I to assume, since you said Michael was your mentor, that you’re commissioned in some way?”
“Yes, I’m one of his commanders. Caedmon and I are his closest advisors, though you haven’t met him yet, either. He’s scouting Eidolon’s outer regions.” He rose, offering his hand to her. “Your hands are freezing.”
She didn’t get a chance to respond. The door opened and Duncan rushed into the room, interrupting them.
“They’ve returned. Michael has requested our immediate presence.” Duncan was out of breath, his words striking the air with a vehemence that was almost tangible.
Jareth started toward the door. “Louthai ere erothim, tay callesto — ”
“Hold your tongue lad, she speaks Adorian. I’ll leave it up to Michael to decide what he wants to disclose. Forgive me, Ariana, we must go, I can’t tell you anything just yet.”
She nodded, not wanting to test his patience by pressing for information.
Jareth looked over at Cryx, who’d made himself comfortable beside Ariana. “He knows the way back to the main hall and can find his way back out to my cottage from there. Do you mind him staying with you for a bit? He doesn’t really like to be alone.” Ariana nodded. Why not, she was already caretaker to one beast, why not two?
“I have someone who might like to meet him,” she whispered to herself as the men’s boots echoed down the corridor and into the main hall.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE ONI
M
ichael sat in an ornately carved wooden chair near a fireplace at the back of the room. His boots tapped erratically on the floor as he waited for everyone to arrive. Only five elders, who were of the bloodline to the original monarchs of Adoria, were present for these meetings.
Caedmon sat beside Michael, his face a perfect reflection of his grief. He and his men had arrived nearly an hour before, the three dead among them having been buried in an unmarked grave where they had fallen. Michael had been shocked to see Caedmon arrive back so soon, but was more alarmed at Garren’s newfound abilities. It compounded the fears he was already wrestling with after the ordeal with Ariana. He was caught up in his thoughts when Duncan and Jareth entered the room.
“What’s happened?” Jareth asked as Michael stood to greet them.
“I will let Caedmon describe the encounter to you.”
Caedmon stood, wiping a hand over his forehead. “Garren was waiting for us in the woods when we emerged from Adoria’s northernmost border. Before we were even aware of his presence, three of our men were slain. Once we confronted him, Riedar rushed him against my orders and, without touching him in any way or so much as moving a hand, Garren scarred Riedar’s face beyond recognition.”
“Did you not hear him coming?” Duncan asked. Michael could tell he was trying to put the question delicately, but it offended Caedmon anyway.
“Do you think that I’d have three dead Adorians if we had?” Caedmon approached Duncan. “I’m in no mood for your mouth, Braeden, not tonight, not — ”
Duncan placed his hands on Caedmon’s shoulders. “Friend, I meant no offense.” Caedmon shrugged off Duncan’s gesture, and slumped back down into his chair, holding his head up with one hand, the other held across his chest.
Michael closed his eyes, drowning out the voices of the elders as they argued back and forth about what their course of action ought to be. Garren had always been a sage fighter, knowing Michael’s next move before he made it.
“Perhaps the time of the Oni has come,” Michael offered.
“If you believe this,” Jenner asked, “then why did you spare his life when you had the chance to take it from him?”
Michael swallowed hard. He simply couldn’t answer that question. “I chose to be merciful to him out of honor. He was pinned to the ground without arms. Hardly the demise I’d intended.” Michael rose to pace the outer edges of the room.
“Your hatred of Garren does not change his fate,” Jenner said. “It makes no difference what dishonor or accolades he has received from any mortal. The Oni is mentioned as being among the souls — Garren is Ereubinian — he cannot be the Oni, for the soul of his lineage was sold for power. Have you forgotten the history of these things?”
Michael cocked his head sideways. “Have you forgotten the wounds inflicted upon my sister as she slept?”
As Michael said this, Jareth raised his head, having been staring at the floor. “What happened to your sister?”
“Ariana’s been seeing visions of Garren. In a dream this afternoon, she was scathed by Moriors, her back ravaged with claw marks. It took Jenner to pull her from its hold on her.”
Michael gave his words a moment to sink in before he continued. “Though the realm of man has begun to diminish, we are not free from our duty and obligation to be its steward. Keeping this in mind, we’re of no use to them if we place ourselves in peril.”
Jenner objected, as Michael had expected. “My Lord, the divide has never failed us. You must have faith in its hold. And while Ariana and Riedar’s injuries are cause for concern, they hardly constitute bringing all of Adoria into open warfare with Eidolon.”
Michael flexed his wings. “Duncan, are you willing to reunite your men?” He’d hoped to hear his father’s closest friend come to his aid, but even Duncan, it seemed, had lost the will.
“I’ve tired of the human realm. They’ve done little in response to all that we have lost for their sake. Jenner’s right; the divide has never failed us. No matter if Garren is the Oni or not, let Man save himself.” Duncan sighed. “The Braeden can’t aid you in this, whether you make it a matter of obedience or not.”
“The elders,” Jenner said, “would do everything allowed by law to prevent such a command. We cannot allow Adoria to wane in the shadow of Eidolon. Lead your own as you see fit, but we will send for our brethren still in Middengard to return home and a mandatory severance between the worlds will be decreed. For all others, we shall leave the permission to cross over to your discretion alone.”
Jenner had risen from his seat and now faced Michael, one hand on his shoulder. Michael was stunned and by the look on his face, Jenner knew it. The council had clearly discussed this — without his presence.
Jareth came to Michael’s side, looking his own father in the eye. “I’ll stand beside you, regardless of Elder rule.”
“I’m at the mercy of our Elders. The last thing this kingdom needs is division among its citizens.” Michael paused, reining in his disappointment. “We have nothing left to discuss here.”
Duncan followed him into the hall. “Don’t be angry with me Michael. If you only understood …”
Michael stopped but didn’t bother turning around. Regret dripped from Duncan’s words, but it made no difference. “When the human realm ceases to exist, I would think your kind would mourn it most, and yet you fail it first. What else is there to understand?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
NOBLE BLOOD
G
arren had been awake for several hours and lay staring at his ceiling, images of the girl running through his mind. He couldn’t quite summon anger, his apprehension continuing from the night before. He rubbed his arm
tenderly; the red marks had almost dissipated. He should have killed her when he had the chance and yet, as the words formed in his head, he felt sick, his stomach knotting at the thought. He ran his hands through his hair.
“Enough,” he murmured, rising from his bed to dress. When he’d finished, he made his way to the sanctuary.
It was empty. Black stones laid on the floors and walls. The cherry wood pews were inlaid with intricate white stone designs. The walls bore several large stained glass windows depicting scenes from when Ciara first entered Middengard. A likeness of Saint Erebus knelt in front of a large white dragon. When Ciara was shown in that form, her body was outlined in bright silver, her scales iridescent.
Garren began to whisper prayers as he approached the altar and knelt, feverishly reciting as many verses from the sacred epistles as he could. Suddenly, he jerked his head up. It had been a test. He looked around at the various depictions of Ciara, some human, some animal, and felt regret wash over him. He’d failed her. That had to be what was tormenting him.
He lay completely prostrate before the altar and was perfectly still, chanting a prayer of repentance. But while he’d started the prayer with conviction, he began to doubt his assumption more and more with every word that passed his lips. If she were indeed Ciara, it would certainly explain his affinity for her, but how could she have expected him to kill her? A picture briefly crossed his mind of his mouth touching hers and he recoiled. He squeezed his eyes tighter and tried to refocus himself. Trial or not, he’d failed both the Laionai and the Goddess by having mercy on an Adorian.
Did she not know she was Adorian?
It made no difference whether she’d been abandoned in the world of man or not, Garren argued with himself. Adorian blood still flowed through her veins.
I love but her and her alone. The words weighed as stones in his head. He could still see Tadraem’s face as he’d said them.
“And what, my Lord, are you repentant of?”
Garren didn’t move, convinced that he’d fallen so deep into his mind as to audibly hear his thoughts, until Tadraem stepped close enough to nudge him with the toe of his boot.
“I have been watching you pray in this manner for over two hours now.”
“Has it been that long? I didn’t see you when I came in.”
Tadraem sat in one of the pews beside Garren. “I was in the back, you wouldn’t have noticed me. You needn’t suffer in silence, Garren, I have no need to compete for your position. I’ve waited many years to be High Priest. Whatever burden you are carrying is not yours to carry alone.”
Garren raised himself from the ground and sat with his legs stretched out in front of him, his back against the end of the opposite pew.
“I have committed a sin,” Garren said, watching Tadraem’s expression darken. He lowered his head and took a deep breath before continuing. “The girl you saw me pursue into the woods in Palingard wasn’t human. I had my sword in the air, no opposition, and yet I couldn’t strike her. I heard the Moriors coming and left her in hiding. I released her, Tadraem — an Adorian.”
Tadraem was still for a time. “An Adorian female in Middengard is unlikely. How do you know she was not human?”
Garren looked up from the floor. “I couldn’t take her soul. The only other possibility is that the Goddess was testing me.”
Tadraem shook his head. “She would not have done so. Your reputation alone speaks for itself. The girl could have had a spell of protection about her, though I’ve never met an Adorian with such privilege. If she was of noble blood, perhaps?”
Garren furrowed his brows in disbelief.
Tadraem continued. “There are legends of Adorians who have such powers. I cannot say for certain, but considering their secrecy, it wouldn’t be unimaginable. If a female had been allowed to enter Middengard, it would seem reasonable. I can’t imagine why she would have been there, though, particularly considering the Adorians were aware of our advances on Palingard. Anyway, the spell could not have been strong enough to make the girl invincible, but it would have been enough to affect your judgment.”
Garren wondered if it had been prudent to speak with Tadraem at all. Something felt wrong about the High Priest’s reaction, though he couldn’t say what. He decided it would be unwise to divulge that she’d continued to plague him.
“Did my father ever speak like this to you?” Garren knew as soon as he’d asked that he shouldn’t have.
“Why do you ask?”
“You spoke of my mother once, years ago. That you knew her well — ”
“Garren, I never knew your mother, you know this. What’s this occasion that you speak of?”
Garren suddenly felt like the floor had been pulled from beneath him and he placed his hands, palms down, at his sides. “I was but a boy, playing in the south woods, when you came to me. We walked to the falls and you spoke of my father. You said that I reminded you of him. I must’ve made the assumption then that you knew my mother as well.”
“That’s all that I said to you?”
“You asked me not to bother you with such questions,” Garren lied. “I was probably asking you things that would seem trite to an adult — it wasn’t important enough for you to remember. ”
Tadraem sat back and seemed to be satisfied with Garren’s answer, but he was sometimes difficult to read. “Don’t concern yourself anymore with this incident. The girl is of no importance. You’ve followed your orders from the Laionai and pleased Ciara. Nothing else is of any substance.
“I have prayed to the Goddess and it has been decided that Aiden will also be wed. Considering his wayward attitude as of late, it is more than charitable. This will at least give him something to occupy his time. I feel it should be you who chooses his intended.” Tadraem rose from his seat.
“Do you think I’m ready for what is ahead?”
Tadraem turned to face Garren. “My Lord, you have always been ready. You’re nothing like your father. I cannot imagine what would have possessed me to say such a thing to you. His weaknesses are your strengths. He had little faith and lost his life because of it. He questioned his beliefs and it led to his eventual ruin.”
“He lost his life on the battlefield, at the hands of an Adorian — you’ve told me so yourself, many times.”
Tadraem walked back toward the center aisle. “He did lose his life because of an Adorian. He died because of Michael’s father. There was little choice for us.”
Garren’s chest tightened as Tadraem spoke, and he almost didn’t ask — but he clung momentarily to the hope that it would not be so.
“You turned him over to the Moriors?” Garren clenched his teeth.
Tadraem stepped closer, but stopped as Garren held out his hand. “Garren, you would have done the same. Don’t let familial ties cloud your perception. He had the opportunity to do Ciara a great service but he chose instead to aide Gabriel in defeating some of our own men. It was treason in its most elementary form.”
“What is the difference between what my father did and what I have done?” Garren crossed his arms over his chest.
“There is much difference, Garren. You are on your face, begging repentance for something that wasn’t in your control, whereas your father intentionally led our forces into harm’s way. You are Aiden’s friend, yet it didn’t stop you from doing what needed to be done to continue in the faith. He stepped out of line and you corrected him as you had to. You and I are not so different.”
Garren felt ill. “Perhaps not,” he said, forcing a smile. “As always, I value your council and your friendship.”
Tadraem bowed his head. “Thank you, my Lord. I am blessed to be in your favor.” He turned on his heels and ducked out of the doorway, leaving Garren alone in the sanctuary.
Garren felt a chill run across his flesh as he considered his father’s death. Tadraem could have killed him more mercifully than the Moriors; he wondered if Tadraem’s condemnation had been warranted. If Tadraem had seen his father becoming more
powerful than he, as his commander, he would’ve felt threatened. It would’ve been far too easy to make up lies. He couldn’t fathom his father having sympathies for Adoria.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
JUST A DREAM
I
t was late by the time Jareth made it to his cottage, only to discover that Cryx wasn’t there. He smiled, happy to have an excuse to call on Ariana.
He knocked on her door, fully expecting to be met by her chambermaid, but Ariana herself answered. She looked surprised to see him.
“Time got away from me. I should’ve sent him home hours ago.”
Jareth laughed, leaning into the door frame. She’d changed from her dress into brushed-suede pants and a simple white cotton top. Her boots were made of leather, thick fur at the cuffs. They were fitted over her pants and extended almost to her knees.
“It’s fine. He must have been having a pleasant time.” Cryx scurried to the door at the sound of Jareth’s voice. Behind him walked a rather large dog. “Who might this be?”
“This is Koen. He’s been tormenting your little friend here. It’s been tremendous entertainment.” Ariana motioned for him to enter. “Why don’t you come in, have a seat.”
Jareth seriously considered it. “I would love to, more than anything in the world. But even as Michael’s best friend, I’m afraid he would feel there is no hour early enough in the day to warrant any male in your chambers other than himself.”
Ariana rolled her eyes. “Alright then, suit yourself.” She started to close the door, but Jareth obstructed its path with his foot.
“Perhaps you could join me for a walk? If you aren’t too tired.”
Her face lit up. “Let me get my cloak.” She disappeared into her chambers and he overheard her talking to someone. He assumed it was to let the chambermaid know where she would be. Moments later, she appeared with the same white fur-lined cloak that she’d been wearing earlier. Her blue eyes stood out against a backdrop of unruly red curls and made Jareth’s stomach flip-flop. He leaned over her shoulder and pulled the door shut behind them.
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