The Agrista (Between the Lines Book 1)

by Shannon Lamb

  “Oh!” she let out a subdued sigh of relief. “What is it, dear?” Her smile flickered, caught between uncertainty and curiosity.

  “It is a present. This will make you beautiful forever.” He pressed the vial to her lips with a sense of urgency. She delivered a quick peck and pressed her back to the mahogany headboard as she fixed it with a gimlet eye. “I have been losing years of my own life slaving over this! Do you not appreciate this gift from your husband? From your King?” The lilt in his voice was no subtle reminder of her lower station, contrary to her facade of power.

  “Of course I do! Forgive me, dear husband. I thought it was a charm,” she steepled her hands and inclined her head graciously. “I am...to drink it?” Xenos gave a curt nod in response, thrusting the vial in her hand with a vicious smile.

  Marie jerked away as Evangeline pressed the vial to her lips, allowing the coppery syrup to slide down her throat as she audibly shuddered. Marie recalled the sickly sweet taste of blood from her nightmare with nauseating clarity, and began shaking at the memory. When she opened her eyes, she was somewhere else entirely, and thankful for it.

  The air was thick with the scent of lavender and honey. Evangeline sprawled out haphazardly in a comically large bathtub, her bulbous abdomen bobbing atop the water as her naked limbs undulated gently beneath the frothy surface.

  “What’s wrong, Cailene?” Evangeline sighed.

  “I have not seen Eka for three months now.”

  “Eka, Eka, Eka! Great Lucidus, you’re obsessed!” she scowled at Cailene, who was on the verge of tears. “Stop your sniveling!” she immediately slapped a shaky hand over her mouth as she took in Cailene’s broken state, mortified. “I’m so sorry, Cailene. I don’t know what came over me,” she cringed as the recent memory of her harsh words cut into her. “I do hope your brother is okay. I’m so sorry, dear friend.” Evangeline buried her face in her trembling hands.

  “Are you alright, Eva?” Cailene dropped her formal tone and shifted in her chair uncomfortably.

  “No!” she croaked. “There is something wrong with me,” an influx of racking sobs distorted her speech as she shriveled into a frail ball of shaking limbs.

  “I will not deny that you’ve been short-tempered lately, but it’s understandable. You are with child,” Cailene cooed.

  “Oh, Cailene. If only it were that simple! It’s so much more than that. I’ve been having dark thoughts. Unnatural thoughts of things that have never before crossed my mind!”

  “What sort of thoughts?”

  “I refuse to even say them out loud, for fear that they may come true,” she paused to shudder. “I think my husband has poisoned me.”

  “What makes you suspect such a thing? Do you feel ill?” Cailene dropped to her knees beside the tub. She softly cradled Evangeline’s face in her clammy palms with an expression of horror.

  “There is a darkness within me, breathing life into horrible thoughts and clawing at my heart,” Evangeline grimaced. “He is not the man I married, Cailene,” she said stoically, now speaking in frantic non-sequiturs. “He has grown cold and distant. We no longer make love, he only takes it.” Cailene baulked at that, biting her tongue as she brusquely turned away. “He has changed, and he has made me like him. Cailene, you must protect my children. You must keep them away from him,” she inhaled sharply to suppress the sudden swell of tears. “You must keep them away from me,” she said shakily. “My dear friend, I must ask something of you.”

  “Anything, my Queen,” Cailene inclined her head, finding comfort in simple formalities.

  “I am sending Mariella away, tonight.” Cailene had no idea what the Queen could possibly mean by this, but urged her to go on with a soft nod of her head. “I am going to fake my death. I can sustain myself with magic, but my tomb must be made of silver, to contain it.”

  “What do you need from me, my Queen?” Cailene asked dumbly, still reeling from shock.

  “I need you, my dear friend, to lock me away and hide the key. Hidden among my children’s mementos is a small silver box. It is the last place Xenos would ever look, and he would think nothing of it upon discovery. That small silver box is known as the Agrísta: the ultimate keeper of secrets. You must use it to hide the key to my tomb, and bind it with my children’s blood. That way, only they can open it, and only by working together.”

  “It’s all a bit extreme, Eva, don’t you think?” Cailene rasped, grasping for logic with flailing gesticulations.

  “Soon these thoughts will consume me. I need to protect my children and my kingdom. Find out what my husband has poisoned me with. If there is a cure, I know you will find it.”

  “This is all so sudden! How will you protect your children from the King if you are no longer here?”

  “I have retaliated with a poison of my own,” Evangeline smirked.

  “You poisoned your own husband, Eva?” Cailene gaped.

  “Not precisely. Had I needed to, I would have, but such measures were unnecessary. By this time tomorrow, Xenos will be unrecognizable. No one will know his face. He will lose all of his power and be forced to flee.”

  “Are you sure about this, Eva?” Cailene whimpered, burying her face in her hands.

  “I fear it is too late for me, dear friend. Let us hope that it is not too late for my children. I am sorry to saddle you with such a burden, but the fate of the kingdom is in your hands.”

  Xenos and Cailene. My mother was a wonderful judge of character! Marie thought bitterly. Still, she gave up everything to protect us, she sighed, feeling a burst of warmth rush through her at the sentiment, and leave her shivering in her mother’s absence.

  “Oh, Evangeline, you must be so furious with me!” Cailene cursed herself as she threw herself down onto the steps of the mausoleum. Marie had been so engrossed by her seething introspection, she hadn’t even noticed they were no longer in the castle. “Your eldest children want nothing to do with the kingdom, Laylia’s run away, Mariella’s surrogate father is hardly any better than Xenos, and Marcel is as bad as Xenos!” She pressed her back to the door in a futile effort to get closer to her departed Queen, begrudging the thick slab of silver and herself for their continued separation. “I’ve failed you, utterly!” Cailene buried her face in her knees and wept softly to herself, giving rise to an inkling of pity that turned Marie’s stomach as she silently watched from the shadows.

  “Are you lost, little lamb?” Marie shuddered at the sudden interjection. She recognized the silver tongue slithering into her ears as the hissing serpent among Cailene’s layered voice. Cailene clambered down from the steps in a clumsy effort to escape. “Oh my! I didn’t mean to frighten you, wee she-beast,” a Glasgow smile turned up beneath empty eyes as a face pressed through the silver door as if it were made of silk. “Do you miss your master? She misses you. It’s so very lonely in here.”

  “You’re the reason Eva’s in there!” Cailene felt her sadness boil to rage as she battled her animal instincts. Quelling the visceral need frothing to the surface felt like crushing broken glass with bare flesh.

  “Ah, I see. You don’t trust me,” the voice observed playfully. “Let’s play a game then, shall we? Ask me anything you wish to know!”

  “What is your name?”

  “I am as old as time, but new to this world. Stuck in a state of limbo, I am nameless.”

  “How do I kill you?”

  “You cannot kill me, for I am the product of killing.”

  “Are you going to answer every question with a riddle?” she hissed.

  “Your questions are a riddle in themselves.” A glint of madness reflected in its hollow eyes as its wry lips twisted up into a knowing smile. “Why don’t I answer the questions you’re not asking? For instance, how to save Evangeline…” it trailed off teasingly.

  “Will you tell me?” Cailene slowly looked away in a futile attempt to shade the hope brimming in her opal eyes.

  “Give me a drop of your blood, and I’ll tell you anything you wan
t to know,” Nameless saw a break in her demeanor, and lunged.

  “My blood?” Cailene’s face twisted in disgust. “Even I’m not that stupid.”

  “Your eyes are tired, young one. You’ve searched and searched, and still you have found no answers. Give up this futile pursuit. A simple drop of your blood is all that it takes to be reunited with your master. What is the point of your life if it is not to serve hers? You cannot even die without her! My poor, weary she-beast. Let us make a bond, and we shall both be free.” Marie could’ve sworn she’d seen Nameless’ devious smile widen as it caught sight of her own pale face. She clumsily delved deeper into the brush, melting into the darkness to veil the surge of fear dictating her jerky movements.

  “I will find a way to kill you, and save Evangeline,” Cailene jutted her chin defiantly.

  “Foolish, she-beast! I don’t need your consent. I was only being polite.”

  A silver patina suddenly laced over Cailene’s bulging eyes. Eddies of mercury reflected the fear trapped within as they burned through her corneas and ravaged her sight. She fell to her knees, screaming in an ancient tongue foreign to her own ears. The quavering howl drowned in a furrow of muffled sound, diminishing her senses with every pained exhalation.

  Marie edged a step closer, uncertain if it was bravery or foolish curiosity that made her do it. She watched in horror as Cailene aged half a century in a compressed moment.

  Cailene’s fair skin melted from her bones, pooling into a withered mass stretched loosely over sagging muscles and a matchstick frame, mottled brown and sallow with age. Much like the legendary Nazirite, it seemed her strength was also held in her tresses.

  As the pigment and life faded from her springy curls, so did whatever was keeping her upright. She shriveled to the floor in a gnarled mess of jowls and rickety joints. This was the Cailene that Marie knew; the one she’d come to hate and fear.

  “Parlor tricks!” Cailene cackled, somewhat hysterically. “Your true power lies with Evangeline. You may be able to alter my chemistry, but you’ve no hold on my heart!” she spat, struggling to get to her feet with crumbling vigor.

  “My reach extends far beyond the grave, and far beyond mere vanity, as you’ll soon see. You can fight me until it drives you mad, but I’ll eventually consume you.”

  Upon seeing this memory and hearing Nameless’ words, Marie was struck with a confounding epiphany that twisted her stomach in knots. This entire time, Cailene had been on their side, fighting for them every step of the way. She was of two minds: Cailene, and the dark creature that had taken up residence in her heart, forcing her hand at every turn.

  It was Cailene who still protected her mother’s tomb, not Nameless. That creature wanted nothing more than to escape and bring ruin to the kingdom. The worst part of this realization was that it didn’t change a thing.

  “Marie? Marie! Are you alright?” Alex’s warmth spread through her body and curled her toes as she slowly came to. The sudden realization of her surroundings ignited a fire in the pit of her stomach that reduced her voice to cinders. “How long was I gone?”

  “Gone?” Alex brows drew together in thought. “You lost consciousness moments after I arrived, but you’ve only been unconscious for a moment.”

  “It felt like a lot longer than that,” she observed solemnly. “There’s no time to get into that, though,” she cursed as she gingerly propped herself up by her elbows. “There’s something wrong with Evangeline. I don’t quite know how to explain it. She’s...sick.”

  “Sick?” Alex hissed. “Until recently, I thought her deceased.”

  “Appearances can be deceiving,” she struggled to keep the suspicion from her voice as she shot Gustav a nefarious sidelong glance. By this time tomorrow, Xenos will be unrecognizable. No one will know his face. He will lose all of his power and be forced to flee. Except things didn’t quite go according to plan.

  Her mother’s words resounded in her mind as she studied the mousling impatiently edging closer to them. He was a far cry from his former self, but his cold eyes were unmistakable. Gustav was Xenos.

  FROM THE CRADLE TO THE GRAVE

  Marie and Gustav locked eyes and held their ground. They grappled for each other’s motives with mutually confused expressions in a standoff of wills. Sure he’d soon suspect her if she let the deafening silence prolong, she gently placed her hand on the hilt of her dagger and jerked her head toward Evangeline. She hoped to allay the suspicion written clearly on his face amidst the quivering rictus.

  Marie had apparently appeared all too eager to abandon her previous misgivings, for Gustav’s next move nearly knocked her off her feet. Somehow, she never saw it coming. She’d witnessed his lithe grace many times, but when she took in his rotund stature that belied his dexterity, it always caught her off-guard. She felt her heart jump as her fingers graced the hollow space of her sheath. In one swift motion barely detectable by the naked eye, he’d robbed her of her weapon.

  Having originally considered himself amongst friends, Alex had detected no danger, and was all too vulnerable in his human form. Marie pressed her back to his steeled front, finding comfort in his solid stance. She found no comfort, however, in his bemused expression, but she hadn’t the time to explain. Fairly quick himself, Alex would catch on soon enough.

  “I was hoping you’d be the one to do it. The power coursing through my dear wife’s body grows stronger with every kill, and I’d rather slit your throat than hers,” Gustav said dreamily as he gently caressed Evangeline’s face, surprisingly peaceful in repose. “I never wanted children. They’re nothing but parasites. They feed from a woman’s body, leeching her of her beauty and her years, only to consume her heart and leave little room for anything else,” he hissed. “Or anyone else, for that matter.”

  With a simple motion, Gustav plunged Marie’s dagger into Evangeline’s chest. Marie collapsed to her hands and knees, her scream trapped beneath a violent uproar of raging sobs. She clawed at her ribcage, feeling as if he’d ripped her own heart from her chest as she watched the unfurling travesty with utter disbelief. She’d finally had a mother, and in less than a moment, she was gone.

  With a strangled bellow of victory and mourning, Gustav jerked the knife free. He stared at the bare hilt in horror as his face twisted with confusion.

  Of course! The dagger will only work for me. She’s still alive! With a sharp inhalation of surprised relief, a goofy grin split Marie’s pale face, infuriating Gustav even more than his humiliation.

  Before Gustav could spew the vile burning a hole in his tongue, Evangeline’s hands were at his throat, ripping the filthy words from his mouth with a white-knuckled vice grip. His pulse beat wildly between her fingers as she burrowed her fingernails into his jugular. Her black eyes were crazed with decades of pent up vengeance boiling to bloodlust.

  Laylia roused herself from a dreamless state only to feel even more surreal upon waking. Gustav – the person who’d guided their steps throughout this entire journey – was being throttled by a woman she thought to be dead for over two decades. Using Bria for support, she staggered to her feet. She looked to Alex and Marie for an explanation, but they seemed to be just as lost as she.

  Flashes of silver skittered across her vision as Bria crashed into her. She pinioned her to the ground, crushing her torso and ripping the breath from her lungs. Laylia dazedly watched runnels of blood glisten at the base of Bria’s spine. She forced herself upright and pressed her back to the wall, savoring the cool rush of air that inflated her lungs.

  She turned to see Marcel standing in the doorway with a shaky two-handed grip on Fallon’s five-bladed sword. He struggled to stay upright beneath its weight with a bowed back and trembling knees drawn together. Even in the darkness, she could make out the glint of his teeth as his lips twisted up into a cruel smile; a smile she knew all too well that thrust her deeper into the darkness.

  Marie’s bloodcurdling scream tore Laylia from the sudden swell of black thoughts, consuming her bod
y and soul like a raging tsunami. She dragged herself onto dry land, just out of reach of the cresting waters of dark thoughts. She used Marie’s voice as a beacon of light to find her way to safety, only to have a wave of fear come crashing down on her. Laylia found herself drowning in a sea of red.

  The old King and Queen lay in pieces on the floor, brought to ruin by their named heir; pulverized by their firstborn daughter’s beloved weapon. The air in the mausoleum grew thick and hot beneath the haze of blood. The sharp scent of copper permeated the air like a poisonous miasma, bathing everything in red so only the whites of their eyes shone amidst the darkness.

  Marie threw herself against Alex’s steeled hindquarters, burying her face in his side as she absently groped for his mane. Every shiver roused his primordial nature as he bared his elongated canines. His hackled hide swallowed Marie’s muffed sobs and gave rise to a guttural rumble of warning and promise.

  Pushing herself solely on ethers of anger and grief, Marie latched onto the side of the coffin and pulled herself to her feet. She repeatedly lost her grasp along the slick edge and stumbled into pools of gleaming viscera as she struggled to find a steady foothold amidst the sludge. She was too catatonic to be sickened by the gruesome chaos.

  Beneath a cascade of tangled tresses, her eyes were hard and focused as she directed all her vitriol into an unrelenting gaze toward Marcel. She coursed with adrenaline upon its return, mirrored in his cold expression. It was as if she’d ignited a spark, burning him from the inside out.

  Marcel fell to his knees as his blood churned to black, bulging in clustered pocks of webbed veins beneath his skin as it branched out across his rippling flesh. It crawled up his body and flooded his pale blue eyes until they’d been leeched of color and burned to black. Alex positioned himself alongside Marie, facing the glaring unknown head on, and fearing only for her safety.

  Bria took an apprehensive step forward, only to be jerked back by Laylia. She desperately attempted to dampen the inhuman sounds bleeding from Marcel as she buried her face into in the hollow of Bria’s throat, shrouded by a thick mane of merlot.