Ontarian Legacies 1 Shadow Assassins

by Cyndi Friberg

  Heaving an exasperated sigh, North purged the tension from his mind. The “accident” that established his claim to Tribe North was ancient history. He needed to think, to plan. All these emotions were distorting his reason. “You’ve frequently asked me for an opportunity to shift your son’s allegiance.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I will allow Lor into the Shadow Maze under the pretext of rescuing the twins.”

  “But the twins aren’t in the maze.”

  “Lor doesn’t know that.”

  “Go on.”

  “During the course of this rescue, Lor will encounter and kill Elder South.”

  Lilt held up his first two fingers. “Two questions. How will you make my peace-loving son commit murder, and how will murdering your enemy sway Lor’s allegiance?”

  “I’m going to locate Elder South, sear the life from his treacherous body, and leave him for Lor to find.”

  “All right. How will this turn Lor away from the Mystics?”

  “Lor will plead his innocence, but the evidence against him will be incontrovertible.” North relaxed, pleased with his new plan. “When the Mystics look at him with doubt and disappointment, and Tribe South demands his blood, you will swoop in to rescue your wayward son. If he foolishly refuses your assistance, you can always let Tribe South execute him.”

  “You have a truly diabolical mind.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Will I finally get to see the Shadow Maze?”

  North stared at Lilt, all the possibilities scrolling through his mind. “If all goes as planned, South will be destroyed once and for all, and Lor will never realize you were involved in any of this.”

  Lilt seemed a bit disappointed. “How long will it take to set up?”

  “I’m not sure. If Varrik takes the twins directly to their parents, it will force my hand. I’d rather give South time to rally his men. They must be in the mood for distraction when they find South’s burnt corpse.”

  * * * * *

  Varrik raked his hair with both hands. He wanted to disintegrate his invisibility shield and question Charlotte about the woman they’d found in Mystic Valley, but Echo had much still to share. He inhaled slowly and released his breath in a silent rush. It wasn’t just the High Queen’s understanding that he craved. Every word Echo spoke in his defense was a warm balm to his weary soul.

  “I’m sorry Varrik’s past was tragic, however, it doesn’t justify his actions, much less lend him nobility.”

  “There’s a bit more you need to understand before I explain his thinking.” Echo paused to rub her temples. Had the deluge of information given her a headache? A lesser mind would have shut down.

  “Are you all right?” Charlotte asked. “We can continue this after you’ve relaxed for a while.”

  “I’d rather finish now. Once we get home, I’m going to sink into a hot bath and stay there until my skin wrinkles.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  Varrik pictured her reclining in a tub, water swirling around her naked body, surrounded by luxury and candlelight. She deserved to be coddled and protected after what he’d put her through. So why did he see himself beside her, climbing in with her, kissing and caressing her until their bodies put off more heat than the water? Even now he couldn’t imagine a future without her.

  “As I said before, the maze can only be entered or exited via teleportation.”

  “You know this or you suspect?”

  “For many of the images to make sense it has to work that way.”

  “Explain what you mean.”

  “The elders, the hunters, and some of the sweepers can teleport. The soldiers are separated into squadrons, and only the squad leaders are able to teleport. The rest of the soldiers are trapped in the maze, until their squad leaders take them out for specific assignments.”

  A long pause followed as Charlotte digested the details. She shook her head and compassion clouded her gaze. Varrik watched her closely, wishing he were truly empathic. “No wonder Sekall was so desperate for change.”

  “Sekall wasn’t the first or the last inhabitant to oppose the ancient customs.” Varrik dragged his gaze back to Echo, trepidation squeezing his heart. That sounded like a segue into the night Bemzire died, but he hadn’t transmitted those memories. “Varrik did everything in his power to disguise his abilities from the elders. He didn’t want to be a sweeper, but his uncle realized his potential.”

  How did she know this? He hadn’t included Bemzire in the infusion. He never spoke of that night, did his best to avoid ever thinking of those wretched events.

  “How do you force someone to manipulate memories? It requires a level of control few can master.”

  “There was a hunter named Bemzire. I got the impression he and Varrik were very close.”

  Bemzire had taken over his supervision after Sekall’s death. Bemzire had been both friend and mentor to Varrik, a complex mixture of father and brother. Varrik turned away from the women, memories ravaging his composure. Echo had to finish her explanation, so he reinforced his shield.

  “Bemzire was Sekall’s staunchest supporter. He stood beside Varrik at his brother’s execution, soothed him and calmed him, so the elders wouldn’t have the pleasure of seeing Varrik lose control.” Varrik trembled as she spoke. Each word pelted his soul like hail. “Bemzire waited for Varrik to mature, hoping he’d take up where Sekall left off.”

  “Did he? Is Varrik a rebel?”

  “If I don’t relate the events in order, you’ll never understand.” Charlotte accepted the gentle reprimand, so Echo continued her tale. “When it came time for Bemzire to hunt, he found a woman who appealed to him as no other woman ever had. He brought her to the maze and intentionally kept her from conceiving for nearly three cycles. Then she gave birth to a boy.”

  “Is this leading where I think it’s leading?”

  Echo crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze bright with unshed tears. Her pity compounded Varrik’s tumult. Why would she feel sorry for him? He’d been so merciless with her.

  “The lovers came to Varrik the night before the woman was scheduled to be released. By then, Elder North had realized Varrik was hiding his abilities and decided to use the situation to his advantage. Varrik warned the elders that Bemzire intended to take his family and escape.”

  “Why would Varrik warn the elders? Didn’t the lovers have a better chance away from the maze?”

  Embers of guilt burst to life within Varrik, consuming his calm and tormenting his mind. He smothered a groan, clenching and unclenching his fists. Heaped on top of his brother’s memory, that question had haunted him for the past two cycles.

  “They never would have made it that far. There is a special team that has honed their skills beyond those of the other hunters. Bemzire wouldn’t have stood a chance against the alpha hunters.” She spoke the excuse Varrik always used to silence his self-recriminations. It might even be true. He would never know. “Varrik thought he was saving Bemzire from himself. Instead the elders summoned Varrik to the discipline hall and tortured Bemzire to death while the woman watched. They told Varrik she would live with the memory for the rest of her life unless he swept it from her mind. She refused to let Varrik near her, so the elders raped her, one after the other. When they finally allowed Varrik to touch her, he cast her into sleep thrall and purged her mind of the abuse as well as of Bemzire’s murder.”

  Charlotte stared at her daughter, too stunned to speak. Varrik wrapped his arms around his middle, fighting back the need to vomit. He hadn’t meant to share this much, to subject her to those memories.

  “From that day to this, he has used his abilities to ease the suffering of the captives. If they need to remember the child they carried within their bodies, he leaves them with the memory of the baby’s face. Those who want oblivion, he sweeps completely, leaving no trace of the world below. Are you beginning to get the picture?”

  Rubbing her eyes with her fingertips, Charlotte took a l
ong time to answer. Was she still unmoved by the events? “I don’t know what to say. His life has been rife with hardship and tragedy. Still, it doesn’t justify what he did to you and E’Lanna.”

  “His abilities are unusually strong, yet they are no match for the elders. Not even the sweepers know the location of the maze.”

  Little by little, balance returned to Varrik’s emotions. Curiosity eroded his sorrow. Determination allowed him to push back the pain. He hadn’t intentionally revealed these things to Echo. How had she absorbed so much without his knowledge?

  “If they teleport in and out, how is that possible?” Charlotte’s question drew him from his musing.

  “There’s a sort of homing signal. Only the elders know the actual location of the maze. All the others lock on to the signal and teleport on faith.”

  “What exactly was Varrik hoping to accomplish by capturing you?”

  “He knew who my parents were and thought our child might stand a chance against the elders. He intended to train our son, to shape him into --”

  “Echo, are you pregnant? Did this man --”

  “No. I constructed an energy barrier.”

  “Then ... he did rape you.”

  “No. He took nothing I didn’t offer willingly.”

  Charlotte wrapped her arms around Echo as tears streaming down the High Queen’s cheeks. “He seduced you. He used your passionate nature against you and ...”

  Echo rubbed her mother’s back and whispered in a language Varrik didn’t understand. The bittersweet irony was more than he could stand. He was the villain Charlotte presumed, yet Echo defended him still. Every gasp, every sigh, returned to mock him. How could he have used her so ruthlessly?

  “You still don’t understand.” Echo eased her mother back so she could look into her eyes. “The elders are manipulating Varrik’s actions to mount hostilities against each other. They’re on the brink of war. That’s why he released us from the maze.”

  “Where is he now?”

  Echo looked right at him, and Varrik’s heart missed a beat. How long had she sensed him standing there? Nothing could penetrate his invisibility shield.

  “Despite his uncle’s betrayal, despite everything, Varrik is going to return to the maze and fight to free the soldiers.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Is every word you’ve spoken true?”

  Echo swallowed hard. It was possible Varrik manipulated the memories, but the sheer volume of information she’d extracted made it unlikely. “Yes.”

  “Has he ever arbitrarily taken a life?”

  “Unless he had an assignment before Sekall’s murder, Varrik has never killed anyone, period. I viewed all his memories beginning with that night.”

  “Then tell him to lower his shield. I would like to speak with him.”

  Echo forced herself not to look at him. She’d first noticed the sporadic rippling when she mentioned Bemzire, but her mother had given no indication that she sensed another person in the room. “What do you mean?”

  “I thought what I felt was a remnant of his presence, but your emotions spiked when you looked at him. This is no time for you to imitate E’Lanna.”

  Varrik faded into view and bowed from the waist. “Your Majesty.”

  Charlotte looked him up and down, her expression assessing and wary. “You are part of the world below. Why would you bow to me?”

  “Because you’re Echo’s mother.”

  “Don’t you dare speak of my daughter!” She closed the distance between them with two angry strides. “My questions have nothing to do with your recent crimes.”

  “He didn’t --”

  “Don’t!”

  Echo backed off. The situation was far too volatile for her to indulge her temper. Varrik stood as he did so often, with his hands clasped behind his back. His hair surrounded his face and brushed his shoulders. She was thankful for the softening effect on his angular features. At least he didn’t look quite so mean.

  “How imminent is this war, and how likely is it to spread beyond the maze?”

  He stiffened at the insinuation. Would she only offer assistance if the fighting spread to the world above? Echo stayed silent. This was between the High Queen and Varrik.

  “Elder South opposed my uncle’s appointment. The hostilities have escalated from there. It’s Elder South’s intention to reunite the tribes under one leader, himself. He has been waiting for just the right opportunity to launch his campaign.”

  “And the soldiers will be ordered to fight regardless of their opinions?”

  “Soldiers don’t have opinions. They are slaves.”

  “What keeps the squadron leaders from rebelling?”

  “Mental compulsions and fear.”

  That caught Echo’s attention. Were the sweepers required to do more than erase memories? Varrik was capable of constructing mental compulsions, but she’d seen no such incident when she scanned his mind.

  “How many men are we talking about?”

  “There are ten men per squadron and one hundred squadrons per tribe.”

  “Four thousand men?”

  “Approximately.”

  “Four hundred with the ability to teleport?” He nodded. “How many hunters?”

  “Fifty-two.”

  “Six sweepers and four elders.”

  Varrik nodded again.

  “How many women are currently incarcerated in the maze?”

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  “Give me an educated guess.” Charlotte’s tone was brittle, her eyes narrowed and bright. “One hundred, several hundred?”

  “Including the pleasure givers, it might be two hundred. My guess would be closer to one.”

  “Pleasure givers? You have prostitutes in the maze?”

  Tension built with each terse exchange. Soon they’d be snarling at each other. Varrik was doing a better job of concealing his emotions than her mother. “Most of the pleasure givers are recruited off world,” Echo added.

  “Well, I’m sure glad they aren’t kidnapping what few Ontarian females we have and forcing them to service the sexual needs of four thousand men.”

  “All the pleasure givers are in the maze by choice,” Varrik told her. “They’re compensated for their --”

  “It’s only the breeders you force?” She raised her hand and shook her head. “Don’t answer that. If we get started on the specifics of your delightful customs, I’m sure to lose interest in this negotiation.”

  “Negotiation?” Though spoken quietly, conflicting emotions textured the word. “How can I negotiate when I have nothing to offer you? You clearly despise everything I am.”

  “I’m very interested in the permanent disbanding of the Shadow Assassins. Your willingness to share these insights indicates an interest in the same. Am I wrong?”

  “I’m interested in freeing the soldiers from the ruthless control of the elders. I’m interested in introducing the tribes to a different way of life, a life that doesn’t include coerced mating and captivity.”

  “Then, however tenuous, we have a common ground.” She stared at him in strained silence for another moment. “Is it your intention to return to the maze immediately?”

  “It is.”

  Echo’s heart sank. He was leaving. He would return to the world below, and she might never see him again. She wasn’t sure why she should care, but her heart ached at the thought.

  “If you postpone your return until this time tomorrow,” her mother said, “I’ll return with a list of services and/or supplies I’m willing to provide.”

  “My uncle is the only one who can confirm my absence from the maze. It’s in his best interest right now for Elder South not to know I departed. If I’m to wait for you here, I need your word that you’ll keep my location a secret.”

  “Agreed. And I have one condition for you. Under no circumstances are you ever to come near either of my daughters again.”

  His gaze filled with regret, and Varrik whispered
, “Agreed.”

  * * * * *

  Submerged to the chin in a bathtub filled with fragrant water, Echo closed her eyes and refused to think about Varrik. E’Lanna was safe. She was safe. Varrik would either convince Elder North to release E’Lanna from his spell, or Varrik would be forced to kill him. Her parents would determine what assistance they could offer Varrik in his quest to free the soldiers, then life would go on as before. It was almost over. That’s all that mattered. She couldn’t allow anything else to matter.

  Her misadventure in the world below would soon be a distant memory, a savage departure from life in her gilded cage. She closed her eyes and crossed her arms over her breasts, ignoring the odd ache deep in her abdomen.

  His eyes appeared to her first, those captivating, blue-ringed eyes that burned into her soul. Angular, nearly harsh features followed and then his lean, agile body. Desire and anger lit his gaze. The blue rings in his eyes glowed so brightly she could feel the warmth on her face.

  “Don’t do this, Echo.” His tone sounded harsh and strangled. “You’re only making it harder for both of us.”

  “I’m not doing anything. Get out of my mind.”

  “I’m not in your mind. Look around you, Princess. This is my world. You came to me.”

  Confused, Echo turned her head and took in her surroundings. Her bathtub sat in the middle of the crystal chamber. Multicolored light shimmered all around them, reflecting off the surface of her bathwater and gleaming in his unbound hair. She was free of this, free of him. Why had she projected her being back into the maze?

  “Release the visualization, and we’ll both wake up.”

  She closed her eyes and pictured the understated elegance of her bedroom.

  “Try harder,” he snapped. “I risked my life to return you to your parents.”

  “I’m not doing this on purpose. I can’t dream share.”

  He laughed. “You could have fooled me.”

  Annoyed by his attitude, she folded her arms on the rim of the tub and got to her knees. “I don’t know where we are, but this isn’t the metaphysical plane. I didn’t summon you here -- at least not intentionally.”

  His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. “What were you thinking about right before you arrived here?”