by JANRAE FRANK
"What do you mean 'drug'?" she asked, suspiciously.
"It was not alcohol. You did not simply get drunk and wind up in bed with someone you hate. He wanted you to think you had. He wanted you confused and humiliated. You've been raped."
"Shit! I'll rip his fucking throat out."
"I don't think you'd get away with it. Something is going on here and you're just a means to an end. If he did get you pregnant, you'd have to marry him immediately, wouldn't you?"
"Probably."
"Then he'll keep finding ways to drug you and you'll keep waking up in bed with him until either your grandsire holds the wedding or you conceive. You could use preventatives, but you would still keep waking up in his bed. And if he figured out what you were doing, he could easily leave word you and he had run off together. After a few weeks alone with you... Well you understands what I'm saying. I don't think you want that."
"No. I don't."
"I don't know how he got past the bi-kyndi. I'll have to think about it. I thought you had cousins."
"I did. Five. All male. They're dead. Within the last six months. All accidents as far as anyone knew. I'm not certain any more. But I do know how he got past the bi-kyndi. Galee fetched a blocker for my grandsire."
"I think I can get you out of Creeya for a while on a legitimate errand that your grandsire cannot refuse. But I'll need a few days."
* * * *
Dynarien dropped Talons off four yards from the temple. The grounds were full of students from the school on the north end of the compound.
"Talons," one of them hailed her. "I really couldn't picture you with Bryndel. Seeing you falling all over him last night in the Music Chamber was – well, I never expected it."
"Betrothed or not," the second one said. "I thought you had better taste."
Talons stiffened. She did not know what to say. She did not remember going to the Music Chamber.
"Talons?" Alora, a rawhide whip of a youth, slender and hard-muscled, came up beside her. Her dark brunette hair hung in a thick braid that brushed her hips. "We need to talk. You, two, get out of here."
The students left, giggling.
"Did I really do that?" Talons asked Alora.
"Yes. I was there for part of it," her voice was controlled, steady, yet with an undercurrent of concern. Her brow furrowed as she asked, "You don't remember?"
"No. I don't."
"You were introducing him to everyone as your 'beloved Bryndel.' You were falling all over him, kissing him like a slut."
"I woke up in his bed this morning. I couldn't remember how I got there."
"Talons! Just the person I was looking for!" A soft voice broke upon them. Gylorean Galee swished up in her long dress. "Your grandsire wishes to speak with you."
Talons sighed inwardly. If she had just ignored everyone she would have gotten into the temple and safety.
"Where is he?"
"I'll show you. Come along."
Talons followed Galee back into the palace, turning into the west wing – the section where her own rooms were. Galee swung a door open and went in. So far as Talons knew this suite was not occupied, but she followed anyway, being used to meeting her grandsire in strange places as well as to obeying Galee as his lieutenant. Galee caught Talons' arm, turning her. As their eyes met, Talons felt herself slide away into nothingness.
Galee caught her as she fell, laid her on the bed, and opened her clothing. "We have many plans for you."
Her mouth opened, her fangs lengthened. Galee nuzzled Talons' breast, finding the vein she wanted and pierced it. Galee preferred the throat, but did not want to leave a mark where it could easily be seen. She loved the taste of consecrated blood. Most vampires could not have taken the mind of a paladin as strong as Talons, especially with Hadjys' mark burned into her flesh. Galee was ancient beyond imagining. In life she had been the get of a demon on a lamia, a serpent woman who fed on children. She retained the lamia's venom in her claws, though she had found other uses for her teeth.
* * * *
Talons woke in a strange bed in an empty suite with no memory of how she had gotten there or whom she had last spoken to. She felt suddenly cold with fear. For the first time in her life she had encountered an enemy she could not fight – or name. She sat up and was hit by a wave of dizziness. She found blood on her clothing. Her breast hurt. She opened her tunic and looked down at the small wound. She tried to grasp what it meant, but her mind slid away from the implications and she could not think. Talons stood, swaying drunkenly, and then staggered to the door. She did not see anyone in the hallway. She leaned her head and hands on the wall, walking slowly to her rooms just four suites down. She fumbled with the door. It was getting harder to focus, not better as she had hoped. She got the door open and stumbled, falling to her knees.
"Hello, darling."
"Bryndel?"
Hands seized her, slamming her onto her back. Someone forced a glass vial between her teeth, filled her mouth with liquid, and then hit her to make her swallow.
* * * *
Two days later Aejys and Josiah jumped to Vallimrah with Dree, shimmering into the air beneath the gigantic Oak of Sorrows. Josiah sank to his knees, exhausted, and Aejys knelt beside him, her arms around him.
"Are you all right?" Aejys asked.
Josiah nodded, gasping and forcing air into his lungs. The Jump had hurt, but not as much as when he carried Aejys to Vorgensburg last winter. He reached for the flask of whiskey.
Aejys stopped him. "Do you really need it?"
"No."
"Then don't."
Josiah slid the flask back and took out Taun's medicine instead. He took a long swallow and felt the shaking in his body stop, his breathing ease. Every fiber in his being still craved the whiskey – he had stopped believing that just because he was more present in his mind than in Josh's the alcohol had no pull on him – Josh had stayed drunk for so many years that the craving was firmly lodged in his body, it was not simply a thing of the mind. Josiah resisted it. He stood and Aejys came with him.
Dree rubbed against his legs and jumped onto his shoulder.
Most of the Valdren were out in their gardens, fields, and orchards working. Those few going about the city stopped to watch and remark on the fact that there were only two of them, wondering where the others were, especially their prince. Aejys headed for the only small inn in Green Haven. The Valdren had few visitors. A ranger in brown and green crossed the common, saw them, and approached.
When she came close enough, Aejys recognized Gloriel, Borian Silverwing's sister.
"Where are the others? My brother and our prince?" As Gloriel waited for her answer, her eyes ran along the Aejys' facial scars which had not been there last autumn.
"Shaurone. It's a long story," Aejys told her. "If you would accompany us to the inn, I'm willing to tell you all of it. My mage needs rest."
Gloriel studied Josiah for a moment, his face was familiar, but his bearing was very different from the mon who had come through there last fall with Aejys' company.
"Aye. I'll come with you." She peered at Dree. "Who are you, little catkin?"
That surprised Aejys. "You know what she is?"
"Certainly. Knowing what my eyes see is my life."
Aejys inclined her head in polite acknowledgement of the ranger's keen perception. "Gloriel, this is my cousin, Dree."
Aejys acquired a room and sent Josiah up to rest, taking Dree with him, while she remained in the common room with Gloriel. Over a cup of mead, Aejys gave Gloriel the full account.
Gloriel watched Aejys handle the cup, using two hands to accomplish what others did with one. "That is a grim tale. I am sorry about your hands. So what brings you here? Are you going to Shaurone again?"
"No. We're on our way to Norendel to fetch Dree's children, among other things." Aroana grant that I have better fortune rescuing them than I did saving Laeoli.
"Catkin children are sweet and wonderful. But be careful in Norendel. Car
liff will not tolerate misbehavior of even the smallest kind in his realm. Otherwise he should give you no trouble. He isn't evil, you know."
"Yes, I know." Aejys thought about Dree's words. The catkin had chosen to remain in the rooms with Josiah while he slept.
"Good. I've spoken with him many times in my wanderings. An honorable king, he is. His undead defend all the living in his realm. Meeting him and his shakes people's misconceptions about the undead."
Aejys raised an askance eyebrow.
Gloriel gave her shoulder a gentle push. "None of that, Aejystrys Rowan! You've made your reputation on understanding the misunderstood."
"I'll grant you that. But I doubt I'll ever be comfortable with the undead."
"Dig deep enough in every tolerant sort and you'll find a bigot someplace."
Aejys winced and shook her head. "I'll try to keep fairness uppermost in my mind when I finally meet Carliff."
"Good mon. Now you wouldn't be looking for a guide, would you? I'm between tasks and quite free until midsummer's eve."
"I would be glad to have you. But there is more you should know before I take you up on it. I'm going after the Spiritdancer. And Margren and Mephistis are in Hoon's Valley."
Gloriel was thoughtful for a moment. "Dangerous. But I'm still offering."
"I'm accepting. We'll need horses, supplies, and enough people to handle trouble if it comes. But not so many as to be conspicuous."
"I can take care of that for you."
Aejys fumbled with her pouch and, after several tries, managed to get some gold coins out. She pushed these across the table to Gloriel. "Will this cover it?"
Gloriel pocketed the coins. "Nicely."
She started to rise, but Aejys caught her arm. The ranger winced slightly, looking down at the twisted fingers, but recovered quickly, smiling in an attempt to cover her faux pas.
Aejys' stomach tightened and she pulled her hand back, hiding both of them in her lap. She did not like looking at them either. "I need to talk to the fireborn, especially Kalestari. Can you take me there?"
"When do you want to go?"
"Tomorrow morning. First light?"
"Be ready. I'll meet you here." Gloriel settled back in her chair, looking for any way, even a lame one, to make up for her reaction. "Do they hurt?"
"Sometimes."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
* * * *
Lord Wrathscar sat in a large wing chair before the fireplace, staring into the flames sending dancing shadows across the room. Gylorean Galee sat across from him, her legs drawn sensuously into the chair. Bryndel stood before the fireplace.
"The deed was done?" Wrathscar asked him.
"Yes. What they say of the bi-kyndi is true enough. The first mon died, but not the second. I had her for the rest of the night. She woke in my bed, confused. Especially when I told her she had been drunk and come there freely. I have had her twice since then. It is always the same. The first mon dies."
"Did she remember anything?"
"No, father."
"Next time, double the dose," Galee said languidly. "Then the first mon will not die. Enough of this and we will break her. Even Talons Trollbane can be broken. Now get back there before the drug wears off. I don't want her getting free. She's still dangerous."
Bryndel sighed unhappily. He did not want to break Talons, but he was desperately afraid of Galee.
"And when you are the Grand Master, Lord Wrathscar," Gylorean Galee said, "I will be second to none, save you." And when all the betrayals are done, I will rule Creeya and the Guild. By the time that interfering Hanadi Majios and her accursed shadow hound return there will be nothing for them to salvage.
* * * *
Galee found the mon in a tavern near the south wall in the Poor Quarter. It was smoky and ill lit. She smelled him before she saw him, crossing the room to sit at his table.
"I hear you've been talking about the heir," Galee whispered, leaning close to him. "About helping Bryndel rape her."
He looked up, frightened. "No, Galee, I swear."
"Come outside with me. We need to talk."
"Galee, I swear!"
"Come outside," she hissed. "Don't make a scene, I'm warning you. I can kill you here and no one will think anything of it." She touched his chin with one finger, lifting his head, raising his eyes to hers. She snared his mind. "Come along."
His eyes glazed and he followed her out.
Galee leaned against him, stroking his arms. She tasted his fear as her long claws emerged from beneath her primary nails, and she shoved four of them into the artery in his arm, pinioning it with her other hand to make certain she got the full load of her venom into him. He stiffened, his eyes rolling up into his head as he slumped against her. She carried him into an alley and left him there: dead. It would probably have taken only two fingers to kill him, but she had wanted it to happen quickly. She had been born the get of a demon on a lamia. Looking to increase her powers, she had embraced a vampire lord. She retained the little sacks of venom in her fingers and could paralyze or kill depending on how many fingers she used and whether she got the full load off. It was a weapon she used seldom and kept secret even from her allies like Wrathscar. She doubted even the Guild's greatest poison masters would recognize its origins or nature: Lamias were simply too rare.
Vampires, though of diverse species, generally fell into two categories, those called royals, lineages so powerful the sunlight did not bother even their newborns; and those called the lesser bloods, bound by countless limitations, and doomed to walk the night alone. Among the royals, Galee was god.
* * * *
Aejys could see one of the distant volcanoes spitting fire and ash. The fireborn would soon be bathing there to still it. The huge forms of the fireborn flew over them several times that day. The birds were almost as large as the great drakes, with hundred foot wingspans. Their wings were brilliant magenta shot through with gold, their bodies a deeper shade of red turning almost violet where it met the azure feathers of their bellies. Their crested heads were slender and elegant.
She waited at the pool near the little stone shrine. Last time she had come here it had been with Tamlestari. Tamlestari had wanted to speak with her ma'aram, who had been mortally wounded by Aurean and had a piece of her soul stolen by Mephistis: Kalestari Havenrain had been restored to life by a priest who had thrown her body into a volcano, causing the fireborn blood in her veins to be triggered. She rose as a fireborn. Countless intermarriages had strengthened the fireborn blood in the house of Havenrain. There had been no guarantee that Kalestari carried enough of it to rise. However she could never take human form again so long as Mephistis held that piece of her soul. There were ways to destroy the fireborn utterly – such as fire-bane swords and blades – but mortgiefan was not always one of them. Sometimes it failed if the body reached the restorative fires quickly enough.
One of the giant birds circled in, landed, and then to Aejys' utter astonishment, the fireborn suddenly dwindled to the size of a large dog.
"How did you do that?"
"I've been consulting mages," Kalestari answered. "I'm learning to manage without my human body – though I miss it. Oryan said you believe there is danger to the fireborn."
"I believe Lord Hoon could be planning a push into Norendel. If they take it, then the breeding grounds are in jeopardy."
"I don't believe that Carliff will fall that easily. Nonetheless I will look into it myself whether the others will or not. Now how fares my daughter and your children?"
"I don't know. We parted at Iarwind Castle. I was captured. I haven't seen her since."
"Is that how your hands got like that?"
"Yes."
"Tell me about it. Everything from the beginning."
"Kalestari, please, I'm sick of going back over it."
"If you want my help, then I need to know."
Aejys settled on the ground and told her. Then she took the amulet from beneath her s
hirt. "This is the only thing protecting me from them."
"They could still kill you before you reach it."
"I'll take that chance. Without the sword many more than myself will suffer."
"You were always one to take chances."
"Will you help?"
"Yes. I've seen castle and the fountain. The threat is credible. I'll do what I can."
"Thank you. If there is any way I can repay you, ask it."
"Take good care of my daughter."
* * * *
Her body would not answer. She could not wake up. She was vaguely aware of noises around her, calling her name as if from a great distance. She worked her fingers across the bed, walking them like mountain climbers, dragging against the covers. She caught the edges of the blankets. Her hand flicked the covers away, grabbed the edge of the bed, and pulled, bringing herself half onto her side. She could not breathe, could not open her eyes. The tilt of her head seemed to put pressure on her throat and chest, making it steadily harder to keep breathing. Her eyes came open but would not focus. She dumped herself onto the floor.
Talons could discern the voices more clearly now: Jysy and Arruth arguing with Bryndel in the hallway. She wanted to cry out, to call to them, but her tongue was thick, her mouth dry, and her throat tight: she could not form words, much less speak them. She dragged herself as far as the threshold between the bedroom and the parlor before collapsing, breathing so hard and fast it seemed her lungs must rupture. She heard two sets of feet leaving and despaired. For the last three days Bryndel had not included the memory drops so that she would know what was happening to her – he dared not do so much longer – they were breaking her on such a deep, fundamental level that it would not matter whether she remembered how she had gotten that way or not.
She heard the key in the lock. Then the door opened. Two people walked in and Talons heard them drop the bar behind them. She could not move, watching their feet through the maze of chair and table legs, feeling the cool tiled floor against her cheek. Sick dread seized her as they turned her onto her back and she saw their faces.
