Suri it her lower lip. She wanted to ask Lord Korka about her aunt Hilder, but she did not trust to speak a single word about her, the person who could be her last living relative. Suri could not be sure what Korka knew and did not know, so what wrong word from her had the potential to start a witch hunt.
And then there will be even more blood on my hands.
“I don’t see what difference it makes,” she said. “I wouldn’t be a good ruler. I don’t know the first thing about being a Queen.”
“None of the good ones ever did,” said Lord Korka, softly.
Suri sat stiffly in her chair, not knowing how easy the tiara could fall from her head. “All I know is that you are King now, because you are powerful, and nothing else. And if someone more powerful came along then they would take it from you and become King, and that’s the way it’s always been. So I’m a half-breed, the origins of both fae and human species. Ok, so what? It’s not that time anymore. What good is that now?”
Lord Korka laughed, then coughed wetly again, this time a grimace splitting his features.
Traxan was on his feet in an instant, a black handkerchief in his hand. He scowled at Suri and dabbled at Lord Korka’s lips. “You must rest my Lord,” said Traxan. “The ceremony is only in a couple of hours. You must be ready.”
“Do no tell me what I must be,” Lord Korka growled.
It was then that Suri had the thought that perhaps the great and powerful Lord Korka was also being used as a pawn, by the Hellfire Guild. Caught up in something out of his control in that same way that Suri was, but to a much lesser degree.
“I have no had such fine conversation in two hundred years,” he continued. Suri could not tell if he was being sarcastic or not.
Korka snatched the handkerchief from Traxan’s grasp, who reluctantly backed down and returned to his seat, where he popped another grape into his mouth.
Korka used the handkerchief to clean his lips. “You don’t know who runs this place, do you? No, I suppose not,” said Korka, answering his own question. “Let me tell you: a vengeful lot of vampire lords who long since abandoned any…what is the word…humanity,” he said, with a sly grin, “that they once had. Jansilian himself is a vampire, his whole bloodline, and all of the nobles are vampires, and they are as old as the original bloodline—your bloodline—the origins of fae and humans. You see, you are a descendant of the gods, and vampires are the descendants of the devil.”
It was too much for Suri, so much new information without evidence that she couldn’t possibly take it all in good faith and simply believe it. And even if there was evidence, it was not something that she could suddenly act as if it was true. It went against everything she had been told about the world. Yet, it did match teachings from the Bible. Made in God’s image. That was a line repeated often enough for Suri to remember. She wondered what Maggie would have to say about all this. The wise priest of Old Saint Mary’s cathedral certainly knew more about religion and history than she had let on to Suri. There were mysteries kept by the Church that were not known by outsiders. Perhaps this was one of them.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” she said.
“Give an old man a moment,” Lord Korka replied. He breathed heavily, snapped his fingers and a servant appeared with a clear glass full of a purple-ish liquid. He drank it down greedily as if it was an elixir of life, like a construction worker recently arrived at a bar after a day of pouring cement.
“Ahh!” he exclaimed, with a bit of youthful vigor, as if the beverage had quenched whatever thirst had been bothering him. “Vampires,” he said slowly, “are not easily killed. Not truly. The strongest of them have magic at their disposal that allow them to return from the dead, and black magic rolls off them like water off a duck’s back. I’m a full-blooded fae. You can see that. I have dabbled in black magic more than anyone else in living memory, for the sole purpose of finding a way to destroy the vampires once and for all, and rid this land of their curse. What you see,” he said, gesturing with his finger at his face, “is a result of my studies.” He laughed.
His eyes were rimmed in red now, and his chinned dropped a bit from its usually high position. He was tired. “I do not have much longer to live,” he said, confirming Suri’s suspicion that he was sick. “I did everything I could to take this city, put all the pieces into place so that Jansilian would be away when I invaded.”
“With a hell spawn army,” Suri quipped in.
“Yes, with a hell spawn army,” Lord Korka quickly shot back, without a hint of remorse. “Use what tools you have at your disposal. Remember that. Take action above all else. Do what needs to be done. No matter what the weak say, the ends do justify the means. I have regrets, just as anyone else.”
“My Lord…” said Traxan, as if unpleased that Korka would be saying such things in public, or at all. He seemed to be a bit of a zealot. One who truly saw Korka as the rightful King…whether or not the old warlock agreed on it.
And the last thing you want to see from your idol is weakness.
Suri knew that well enough from her time at the Academy. She looked sidelong at Traxan. She wondered how much of what Lord Korka was divulging was already known to the impish creature, or if he found it disturbing.
“There are some vampires on our side, who believe in a peace between the two peoples,” Lord Korka explained. “Traxan is one of the few in Faerie. There are more on Earth. And yes, there are more vampires on Earth than you might think. I know quite a bit about your world. Who do you think runs the leeching banking systems? Whose bloodlines do you think were once nobility?” He shook his head. “All vampires. They have directed the course of human and fae history for thousands of years. No longer.”
Traxan no longer glared at Suri, but had an introspective expression of someone meditating on a dark truth. His jaw was tightly shut, making him look resolute.
He’s an evil bastard—they’re both evil bastards. Every one of Lord Korka’s words could be a lie.
Yet it seemed to Suri that there was a ring of truth to their words. She would believe them, for now. Besides, she still didn’t have much of a choice. Why tell her all this since they already had the blackmail, and knew that she was going to comply with the Hellfire Guild’s demands? She went along with the story, not ready to call them liars just yet.
“Are you telling me he can’t die?” said Suri, gesturing at Traxan with her chin.
“Him? Yes, unfortunately so,” said Korka with a wry grin. “The vampire lords are different. They have a deeper, stronger magic, the result of fully harnessing their vampire blood. A curse that not only slows their aging but, as I said, shields them from all forms of black magic. And believe me when I tell you that it is very difficult to kill a Master mage without some form of black magic.”
“Impossible,” Traxan muttered. It sounded like he knew from experience.
“What you’re telling me is that you are enemies to the Faerie King and to the nobility in Lodum…” said Suri slowly.
“Yes. They must all die. It is the only way. It will be my final act.”
Suri took a good look at his face. “How long do you have?” she asked.
“Not long. You will inherit this empire, for whatever it’s worth. It may end up in a bigger mess than where it was when I started this whole thing. Time will tell.”
“Time, and the number of executions,” Traxan added.
“Yes, I was getting to that. You see, Suri, the nobility think that we are on their side. There is no small amount of infighting among Lodum’s elite. They believe that I am helping them maintain their position of power, and grow it, whereas the old King knew well the importance of keeping the noble’s power in check.”
“The ceremony…” said Suri.
“Yes, they will all be there,” said Lord Korka. “Every single one of Lodum’s nobles. They wouldn’t dare miss the opportunity to show themselves for this occasion. Trying to earn my favor,” he said, ending with a chuckle.
“So is the wedding real, or is it just a trap?”
“Oh the wedding is real, and it will stay real right up until the moment when the executioner’s axe comes crashing down. Poetically speaking, that is, when we rid Faerie of these so-called nobles once and for all. The end of their pestilence will be my final act,” he repeated. “Traxan here will guide you in the coming years and show you how to manage this city. It was never a position that I looked forward to anyway.”
“You can’t be serious,” said Suri. “You want me to run Lodum? The capital of Faerie?”
“Ah, don’t be naive. You may have heard it said that Lodum is the capital of this world. Do not be deceived—there are far greater forces in Faerie than here in Lodum. Yes, myself included. It is the capital for some fae, but not all. And there is far more to Faerie than the fae. Creatures older even than the first King, who never bent the knee. Ignore that to your doom. But yes,” he said, with a sigh. “That is exactly what I expect from you. Your bloodline is the rightful bloodline. If not you, then who?” He shook his head, his wispy white hair moving like strands of spider’s webs. “Faerie must have a ruler—yes, it must,” he emphasized, seeing Suri’s doubtful expression. “Do no think for a moment that this city would last without a King or a Queen at its head, and a strong one at that.” He narrowed his eyes, then coughed wetly. No blood appeared on his lips. He was still standing, purple cape hanging from the back of his black breastplate as he paced around to the other side of the table. For a moment he seemed to teeter. “First you must kill the old rulers, and marry me. It is the only way to secure your rule.”
It was too much for Suri. She removed her tiara and placed it carefully on the table. Rose, and turned from Traxan and Lord Korka to pace in her golden shoes over the grass, so that none of them were in her sight. The servants watched her from a yard away, standing in rows and trying to anticipate her every need but not wanting to interrupt.
Suri spun around. She had almost forgotten. “Earth,” she said, her gaze snapping to Traxan. “You wish to invade Earth with the hell spawn too.”
“That is the plan of myself and the Hellfire Guild,” Lord Korka returned. “I only hope I can last until the ceremony in Texas. After my passing, or when I become too weak, it will be up to you to conquer the land.”
“Why would I do such a thing?”
“Haven’t you been listening, girl?” Lord Korka snapped, turning into a curmudgeonly old man. “It may seem normal to you, but I assure you there is nothing natural about the state of affairs where you come from. Vampires control Faerie and Earth. It will be you who sets both free. It will be you who kills the vampire lords.”
“You keep saying that. You still haven’t told me how. I’m not a strong magic user. I have to run from a mob of fae. I can hardly hold my own against a couple of goblins. Are you going to teach me a spell? And why did you kill my aunt?” Her voice rose as she struggled to hold back tears. She had been caught off guard by all of the new information coming at her, focused on trying to take it in and make sense of it. For a time the image of Vestrix’s crumpled body had not come to mind. But now she remembered again and it blasted out everything she had just been told.
“Your aunt did not understand,” said Lord Korka. “I tried, oh I tried to convince her many times. She did not believe me. She and I worked towards the same purpose, but we were enemies. She did not trust me. I don’t blame her. I don’t suppose that I would trust me either, after all the things that I had done—that I needed to do to obtain this power. Vestrix refused to go as far as I did. She would not take the necessary steps. Had she lived and I died, her movement would have failed just the same. I am not a good man, but I have good intentions.”
“The ends justify the means,” Suri muttered.
“I do not think you will weep over my passing. I do not expect you to. What I expect you to do is rule. Hate me as you must; it does not matter. As for the vampire lords, they can be killed by the magic of your mixed blood, you heritage, in a way that my magic and no other magic can replicate. Your black magic will work on them, Suri. Yours, and no one else’s. They will not expect it. They have been comfortable, thinking they have been immune to black magic spells for thousands of years. So you will be able to strike them down, and only in their finals moments will they realize what has happened. You are not known to them. Not yet. It is a secret that Vestrix and I agreed to keep, above all else.”
“And my friends?” Suri asked.
“No harm will come to them. I suppose you will set them all free as soon as I die, but until then they must remain hostages. It is the only way that I can be sure you will go through with my plans, and not run off or spoil things at the last moment.”
Suri frowned. What he said made sense. That did not mean that she liked to hear it. Lord Korka said he will die soon, but that is to a fae that had lived for a thousand years. It could be decades until he breathes his last. Is Amber to spend the rest of her youth in a cell somewhere?
“You’re crazy if you think I’ll kill someone just on your word,” she said. “I don’t know these people. I don’t know who rules Lodum, or if what anything you say is true. I’m not just going to cast my black magic at whoever you point at.”
Lord Korka sighed. “No, I expect you will need proof,” he said. “You will have it at the wedding ceremony. I suppose you will do what you want, but I hope you wait until after I give my speech for you to cast your spell. You should be begin preparing now, by the way,” he added. “We will be leaving in a moment. I needed this brief rest before appearing before the public. You don’t have to tell me your decision. I know what you will do, once you see who the nobles truly are. And then, perhaps, you won’t think of me so much of a monster as you once did.” With those last words, Lord Korka walked back to Gorgax and took a seat upon the great dragon’s back.
Traxan whistled and a bunch of servants scurried over. “Get to work on her hair,” her ordered crisply. “We can’t have our Queen looking like she just rolled out of bed,” which was exactly how Suri looked.
They got to work on her hair, styling it and doing things that Suri could not see. They simply worked away while she sat there, preparing her like a beauty queen. She always felt uncomfortable in these situations. The few times that she had been to a salon had been unpleasant experiences. She had only gone because Amber had pretty much forced her to. But this time her mind was spinning with everything she had been told, reevaluating her time in Faerie, her aunt’s death, everything that had happened to her since the fire, that she was distracted from the feelings of fingers fussing about with her red curls, cutting and fixing them, braiding parts of it, pinning other parts with magic that would invisibly hold it in place.
Once that was finished, Traxan removed the last object from the wooden box that he had kept strapped to his back. It was a jewelled short sword, the hilt made of the same gold as Suri’s tiara and shoes. The scabbard and hilt were encrusted with gems of four different colors. It was so expensive and fine that Suri was scared to touch it. It looked like it belonged in a museum, not right here in front of her.
The scabbard was made of the same gold material as the hilt. Traxan held it out before him with both hands, and there was a belt attached to it, the scabbard already looped through it, and this too appeared to be made of gold and smaller encrusted gems, but it was soft and bent like a cloth.
Suri buckled it across her waist over her wedding dress.
“Take out the blade,” said Traxan.
Suri gripped the hilt and pulled the short sword free. The blade was straight, sharp on both sides. In the middle was a long, thin hole. Instead of being able to see through it, it was filled with swirling grey shadows.
“This sword is an old relic. It can hold great magic, and direct it with a thrust of the blade. Now, quickly, before we go, fill it with a black magic spell. Not the one you will kill the vampire nobles with, but a smaller one, enough to kill one or two people. It is for your self defense. A mortal
would with this sword, holding one of your spells, will kill a vampire lord as easily as a normal sword would kill a fae.”
Suri nodded, seeing no harm in it. Spidery words came off her tongue and she casted the simplest black magic spell that she knew—an ice spell, that she directed from her magical well, through her body and arm, and into the shadowy space in the hollow of the blade. The spell flew out of her, strands of the shadow magic merging from the pores in her hand, swirling around the blade then mixing into the grey that was already in the hole in the middle of the blade.
“Good,” said Traxan.
Suri sheathed the sword. “Lets get this thing over with,” she said.
16
Suri
The Hellfire Guild had changed its mind. The wedding was not to be held at the royal palace as Traxan had told Suri, but at the large public square at the center of Lodum—the same place where she had earlier seen through the crystal ball Amber and Raja and the Black Gauntlet lieutenant with nooses around their necks.
“It will be a better public display, more accessible to the commoners,” Lord Korka explained from Gorgax’s back.
It was a short flight from the royal palace to the square, really only a dozen beats of Gorgax’s wings if they made a straight line. That is not what Lord Korka decided. They took a leisurely route through the sky, circling around, letting the onlookers build anticipation and cheer from the rooftops.
Suri could see that the square was full, and that on it had been build a large wooden platform, replacing the gallows. Korka’s great black helm was back over his head, hiding his wispy white hair and gaunt features, and tired, blood-red eyes. He waved to the crowd, and Traxan motion for Suri to join Korka where he stood atop Gorgax’s giant head, who hovered, flapping his wings above the square as close as he dared to without damaging the people on the rooftops or streets with his long, trailing tail. From there, Korka took Suri’s hand, and they stepped off. At this cue she followed him down from the dragon’s scales to levitate through the air.
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