Chained By Fear: 2

by Jim Melvin

  Izumo stomped off. A relatively tiny figure, almost two spans shorter than she, came next. But despite its small size, it looked more dangerous than the dracool. Tendrils of flame flared from its flat nostrils, and wisps of smoke seeped from its pointy ears.

  “My sister,” Invictus said. “Allow me to present Gulah, a Stone-Eater from the bowels of Mount Asubha.”

  “The honor is mine,” Gulah said.

  “Thank you . . .”

  Next up was a sinister-looking woman dressed in red robes. Her hair and eyes were black, but her skin was white. When she smiled, her teeth were jagged.

  “My sister,” Invictus said. “Allow me to present Broosha, a vampire from Arupa-Loka.”

  The vampire said the same disturbing thing the demon had spoken: “My blood is your blood.”

  “Thank you . . .”

  The next creature was the strangest yet, smaller than the Stone-Eater and covered from head to foot with tangled hair. Its eyes protruded almost half a finger-length from their sockets.

  “My sister,” Invictus said. “Allow me to present Gruugash, a representative of the Pabbajja, the homeless people from the borders of Java.”

  “My people will not forsake you,” Gruugash said, with surprising tenderness.

  “Thank you . . .”

  She met others, as well—a grotesquely tattooed Mogol who gripped her hand so hard it hurt; a gigantic six-armed Kojin who was more than twice her height; a cave troll who drooled on her shoes; a nervous-looking ogre who leered at her breasts; and a one-armed ghoul who dropped flakes of his own stinking flesh on the marble floor.

  The procession went on for most of what remained of the afternoon. Laylah said thank you over and over, but she never meant it. The power that flowed from Invictus rendered her impotent. Her mind screamed, but her body showed no signs of discomfort. Invictus’ hideous friends terrified her, but no one in attendance could have recognized it by her demeanor.

  While the procession took place, servitors erected a long dining table. They arranged fifty chairs on one side and ten oversized sofas on the other. Two chairs were at the head of the table and two more at its foot.

  A trumpeter announced the meal. Laverers came forward with washbowls for the human-sized guests to cleanse their hands. For the first time since she entered the ballroom, Invictus released his grip. The flow of golden energy was abruptly cut off, making her feel weak and dizzy but allowing her to regain a portion of her senses.

  “Bathe your hands, sister,” she heard him say. She placed her hands in the lukewarm water, but this time her own will directed the movement.

  When Invictus led Laylah to the head of the table, he placed his hand on her shoulder and zapped her again. She was the first to be seated, and then he joined her. Chal and Lucius sat at the foot of the table. The couches were reserved for the largest in attendance: the Kojin, the cave troll, Izumo and two other dracools, and Boggle and four other druids.

  The table settings included cups made from the eggs of flightless birds that Invictus told her lived in the Gray Plains near Barranca. She saw silver spoons, pewter bowls and wooden trenchers. Servitors stood ready to wipe mouths and fingers.

  Sparkling wine was poured. When all the cups were filled, Invictus stood and surveyed the eclectic gathering.

  “Today is a special day for the citizens and allies of Avici.”

  “Yes!”

  “Today, my sister will become queen.”

  “Yes!”

  Laylah tried to protest, but Invictus placed his hand on her shoulder and quieted her.

  “Long live Queen Laylah!” he said.

  “And long live King Invictus!” Chal-Abhinno said from the other end of the table, her voice as sweet as nectar.

  “Yes! Yes! YES!”

  “Thank you, Queen Chal,” Invictus said. “And now, let us enjoy our meal. I’m sure you are all famished.”

  The servitors came forward with the first course, but Invictus waved his hand, freezing them in place. “I apologize, but I forgot one small matter,” the sorcerer said. “In regards to my sister, I will never tolerate rude behavior.”

  This elicited a swell of murmuring. Invictus walked slowly down one side of the table, stopping just behind the ogre who had leered at Laylah’s breasts.

  “Olog,” Invictus said. “Do you find my sister attractive?”

  At first Olog remained silent, as if he didn’t realize he was the one being addressed.

  But Invictus grabbed the ogre’s chair and slid it backward. The room became deathly quiet. “I asked you a question. Answer immediately.”

  The ogre laughed, hoping to diffuse the tension. But Invictus was not amused. Olog squirmed in the chair. “I don’t understand your question, my liege. Do I find your sister attractive? Of course, as do we all. She’s a lovely young girl.”

  Invictus lowered his face within a finger-length of the ogre’s gnarled nose. “I saw the way you looked at her. Do you think me a fool?”

  Apparently not knowing what else to do, Olog tried to appear offended. “My liege, are you accusing me of misbehavior? If so, I wholeheartedly protest . . .”

  Suddenly, Invictus grasped the ogre’s throat, cutting off the rest of the sentence. With one arm, he lifted the beast out of his chair. This amazed Laylah. She remembered Takoda telling her that male ogres were much smaller than their female counterparts and nowhere near the size of Kojins, but they were only slightly smaller than men. Yet Invictus effortlessly suspended Olog high above the floor. The ogre grabbed the sorcerer’s wrists but could not tear free, kicking at Invictus with clawed feet.

  “I must make this clear to all. With regards to my sister, I will not tolerate rude behavior.” As the terrified ogre fought to escape, Invictus’ arm began to glow more and more brightly.

  Sensing that something terrible was about to happen, Laylah screamed, “No, do not kill because of me!” But of course her brother paid no attention to her.

  Instead, yellow fire surged from his fingers, enveloping Olog and then blowing him apart. Chunks of flesh spewed outward, but before any of the gore could shower upon the guests, the yellow fire consumed it. All that remained were delicate flakes of ash, fluttering to the floor like a handful of feathers.

  Invictus casually returned to her side. “You’re under my protection,” he said. “I will do anything for you.” And then he took her hand, quieting her body, but not her thoughts. If she had not been so limp, she would have vomited.

  Quickly, the other guests returned to normal conversation. If what occurred had upset anyone, none dared show it. By no means had Olog been the most powerful among them, but the ease with which Invictus had dispatched him had to have been unsettling. It certainly had unsettled Laylah. Her brother killed easily, too easily, and it terrified her. If he could so easily eliminate one of his followers, what was he capable of doing to those who opposed him? To Laylah?

  Despite the grotesque spectacle, the guests began to eat heartily—at least the ones who most resembled humans. A first course of spiced vegetable soup and dark bread was served. Poached eggs, roasted duck, salted pork and baked fish followed. Cooked apples, plums, pears and peaches came next. Stuffed pastries, cakes and cookies were offered for dessert, along with tea made from parched holly leaves. And, of course, a never-ending supply of wine.

  Whenever Laylah became agitated, Invictus calmed her with his power. She ate and drank obediently but without pleasure, the food and wine warming her stomach but not her heart.

  After their meal, the guests milled about in the ballroom. Final goodbyes were said near the fountain. As sunlight dwindled toward dusk, the visitors departed. Soon Invictus, Laylah, Urbana and the young chambermaid were the only ones remaining besides the other servants.

  Again Invictus held Laylah’s hand, forcing her to stand helplessly beside him. Urbana seemed to have drunk a great deal of wine. The young chambermaid appeared wary, but not frightened.

  “Darkness approaches,” Invictus said to La
ylah. “It’s time, my sister. As I said earlier, today you shall become my queen. Are you ready?”

  “Thank you . . .” Laylah said.

  Urbana’s red tongue slid seductively along her jagged teeth. “Let us retire to her chamber,” the mistress of the robes said. “Why delay any longer?”

  Invictus laughed. “Your impatience is legendary, Urbana. But this time, I agree. I don’t want my sister’s coronation to occur in total darkness. Come along—and bring the girl. I want her to watch. It will increase my pleasure.”

  With Urbana in the lead, the four of them left the banquet room, passed through the garden, and entered the stairwell that led to Laylah’s bed chamber at the top of the tower. Invictus continued to grasp his sister’s hand, and though her mind raced and her heart pounded, she could not convince her body to do anything but follow.

  The small company ascended the stairs and approached her door.

  Urbana started to enter, but Invictus held her back.

  “Mistress of the robes,” he said formally, “have you forgotten my command?”

  For a moment Urbana looked puzzled. But then she smiled. “I apologize, my liege. Where are my manners?” She turned to Laylah, who remained ensconced in her magic-induced trance. “May we have your permission to enter?” Urbana said, in a voice thicker than honey.

  “Thank you . . .” Laylah said.

  “I take that as a yes,” the mistress said, and they walked into the room.

  “Chambermaid,” Invictus said to the girl, “remove your clothes. I want you naked while you watch.”

  The girl did as she was told, dropping her gown and chemise. Her skin was pale and her body perfectly formed.

  Urbana looked at her with lust, licking her lips like one who is starving. “May I have her afterward?” she said to Invictus.

  “We shall see,” the young sorcerer said, still gripping Laylah’s hand. “It will depend on my mood.”

  “Very well. I’ll do as you say, my king.”

  “Yes, you will.” Invictus led Laylah toward the bed. “Remove your clothing and then Laylah’s,” he said to Urbana.

  The mistress of the robes complied. From the neck down, Urbana’s skin was white as milk, but it was laced with broken capillaries and bulging veins. Jiggling protrusions clung to her breasts and belly.

  Even in her dream-like state, Laylah gasped.

  Invictus appeared surprised that she still retained the ability to react. More power flowed into her from his hand, coursing up her arm and surging into her neck and torso. Whatever control she’d somehow maintained was erased. She now was as helpless as a corpse.

  Urbana seemed to find the disgust in Laylah’s face amusing. As she removed the princess’ bodice and skirt, she cackled. “Not everyone is as beautiful as you. After all, you’re only eighteen . . . whereas vampires like me were born when the dragons were young.”

  “No one is as beautiful as my sister. Now finish your task,” Invictus said, casting off his own clothes. “My need is immediate. I have dreamt of this moment for too many years.”

  The mistress of the robes fiddled with the cloth straps that secured Laylah’s undergarment, but Invictus growled and shoved her aside. He grasped the chemise and tore it off as if it had been sewn from straw.

  Laylah stood naked, still as a statue, but her heart pounded ferociously.

  Darkness crept into the sky outside the window. In a snarling fit of lust, Invictus shoved Laylah onto the bed and fell upon her, thrusting between her legs. As his full weight pressed against her virgin body, the entrancing energy flowed with renewed strength. When he penetrated her, she steeled her expression against the flaring pain, but she couldn’t stop the tears that trickled from her eyes.

  Invictus moaned as he raped her.

  Laylah’s head lolled to the side. A portion of her remaining consciousness seized on the naked figure of the chambermaid, who stood with thin arms crossed beneath small breasts. In her cloudy awareness, Laylah became fascinated by the girl’s eyes, whose pupils flared and receded with hypnotic rapidity.

  “You idiot!” the chambermaid suddenly shouted, but no sound came from her mouth. Instead, the words careened inside Laylah’s mind. “He’s raping you, little one. Don’t waste my precious gift. Resist with your thoughts, if you can’t with your body.”

  Laylah’s drugged awareness slowly grasped the concept. She was being raped. By her brother. And she hated it. As soon as that thought emerged, a pain far worse than she had ever experienced exploded in her abdomen, dwarfing even the torture of the talisman. Although she was near catatonia, she managed to grasp the sides of her stomach with her hands, and an eerie cry erupted from her mouth, causing Urbana to yelp.

  Even Invictus was startled, and he rose on his elbows and glared at Laylah’s face.

  “What’s this?” he said. “What’s happening?”

  Then he looked at Laylah’s stomach and saw the flesh beneath her navel writhing. At the same moment that the sorcerer pulled out of her, the young chambermaid started to cackle. A torrent of black smoke arose, and Vedana’s gray-haired incarnation was revealed, her translucent body shimmering in the dimming light.

  “Finish if you like, my grandson,” the demon said, while backing toward the open window. “But if you do, her womanhood will be consumed, and you will have no heir.”

  “Grandmother, what have you done?” Invictus said, still puzzled.

  Then he placed his hand on Laylah’s abdomen. Finally he understood. “No!” he screamed.

  But Vedana had already taken the shape of a raven and flown out of the tower.

  Invictus raced toward the window too late. “I’ll destroy you,” he shouted. “Do you doubt it?”

  But Vedana was gone.

  Laylah remained on the bed, the pain in her abdomen slowly receding.

  Urbana knelt beside the bed, sobbing. “I’m sorry, my king,” the vampire moaned. “I didn’t know . . . I didn’t know.”

  Invictus looked at Urbana and sagged against the wall. But then a smile came to his face. “Grandmother,” he said out loud. “You are full of surprises.”

  Invictus strode across the room and grabbed Urbana’s hair, dragging her away from the bed and slamming the door behind them.

  Suddenly Laylah was alone. She had survived her first day in Avici. Would tomorrow be this bad? She would find out in the morning.

  Meanwhile, sleep came—and with it, blessed nothingness.

  Servant

  10

  In the middle of the night Laylah woke from a dreamless slumber with a burning distress between her legs and blood on her covers. Near the bed was a basin of water with fresh towels. She rinsed her mouth first, and then cleansed herself, gingerly. Afterward, she slid a chair next to the arched window and looked out at the night sky.

  The moon was waning gibbous, and its glow strengthened her heart. She was amazed that only a few days had passed since she had stood beneath the full moon with Takoda and looked over the valley. Now her adoptive father was dead, along with his people, and the most dangerous madman to ever live had imprisoned her.

  Laylah’s recollection of the aborted rape was mercifully hazy. She remembered a ripping agony within her abdomen and Invictus being angry, but she had no idea why the pain occurred, other than a misty memory in the dark recesses of her mind. Was it some sort of demonic spell that not even the sorcerer could overcome? It appeared, in this instance, that the demon Vedana had been her ally.

  Laylah gazed at the moon. The reflected light felt warm and fecund. The longer she stared, the more her fear diminished, finally reaching a level of tolerability she would not have thought possible after so recent an atrocity. Laylah’s survival instincts swelled within her. Suicide remained an option, but not on this night. At least she would give herself one chance to escape before she revisited that loathsome possibility.

  As dawn approached, the sister of the king returned to her bed and slept through most of the morning. When she opened her eyes,
she was surprised to find the room bright and hot.

  Then came a familiar tapping at her door.

  “Young princess, are you awake?” Urbana said. “Your dinner is prepared. After last night, you must be hungry.”

  “If you enter the room, I’ll kill you.”

  “So . . . we hold grudges, do we? You have no idea how much I’d relish the opportunity to face you. But I remain forbidden . . . though after last night I’m not sure why. Your value has diminished, it would seem.”

  “Take a swim in the Salt Sea. It’ll do your complexion a world of good.”

  The cackling stopped. “I couldn’t care less if you eat or not. I’ll leave your dinner outside the door. Come and get it. Or do not. If you need anything else, your chambermaids can serve you. And don’t worry: I went to great pains while you slept to make sure none of the rest of them are demons in disguise. I’ll never forgive Vedana for making me look so clumsy.”

  A long silence followed. Laylah crept to the door and placed her ear against the polished wood. She heard nothing, other than the grumbling of her own stomach. She was ravenously hungry, and if she were to attempt an escape, possibly as soon as tonight, she would need her strength. Weak and wobbly, she would stand little chance.

  Laylah’s innate magical powers made her dangerous. But she was untested and inexperienced. Could she really destroy a creature as ancient and malicious as Urbana? Could she withstand an attack from a dracool? And what about the other monsters she had met at the banquet? Was she an equal to any of them? The death word Invictus had taught her as a child might destroy some of them. Or her white fire might incinerate them. But she didn’t know. And not knowing was as great a weakness as anything else. She needed the time and patience to learn more about herself and her predicament, but she had little of either.

  Would he come to her room later this afternoon and force himself on her again? Maybe this time, whatever was inside her would not awaken. How long could she bear such perversion before insanity rose up and claimed her? She didn’t know, and the less she knew the more vulnerable she became. Against monsters like Invictus, knowledge was power. And she also needed help from unexpected places. Vedana had taught her that.