by Cory Barclay
Constantin recognized the faces at the table. There were eleven people, from six of the most powerful families in Soreltris. The group at the table made up the nobility of the three regions. With the addition of Constantin and Mariana, there were now thirteen nobles.
On one side of the table sat Lord Obsidian and Lady Chalcedony. They were dwarves who lived in the nearby hills. The stout, round folk had an appreciation for money, real estate, and were two of the richest folk in Soreltris. Next to them sat Lord Jasper and Lady Amber, attractive fauns with fine, Roman features. They had a penchant for exhibitionism and public displays of nudity. At the moment, the two wore clothes, their finest gold and red robes—the Brethren colors.
Lady Jade was a widow and one of the more powerful members of the Council because of her single status. She had the power to sway votes with her single vote, while other families typically voted among party lines, two at a time. A five-five vote was rare, because it meant a wife and husband would’ve had to split. But Jade could fix all that with her eleventh vote.
On the other side of the table sat Lord Onyx and Lady Opal—Jareth and Dosira Reynolds—who stared at Constantin and Mariana as they approached. They sat closest to the head of the table, which was currently empty. It was a very public display of their power. The two seats across from them were vacant—presumably for Constantin and Mariana. The empty seats were close to the head of the table because they represented the introduction of the newest Council members. It was their first meeting. Constantin had no doubt they’d be sitting on the far side of the table whenever the next meeting came around.
Next to the Reynoldses sat Lord Topaz and Lady Agate, two humanoid-looking figures with turbans wrapped around their heads. They had rather pale skin and flat, Greek faces. Every once in a while their turbans would writhe and move, causing some nobles to squirm in their seats. Topaz and Agate were gorgons, descendants of the infamous Medusa.
Furthest removed from the head of the table were Lord Sunstone and Lady Moonstone. Lord Sunstone was an elf. He was a tall, handsome man who sat straight-backed with his hands steepled on the table. He had married Lady Moonstone, a dryad, one of the leading tree nymphs in the region.
Constantin and Mariana made the rounds, introducing themselves. The dwarves, Lord Obsidian and Lady Chalcedony, seemed most standoffish with the vampires. Vampires still had a bit of a stigma attached to the name, even among other Mythics. Lady Jade, who was a beautiful yōkai, a demon of Japanese descent, smiled at Constantin as he passed. Her thin lips nearly reached her ears, which unnerved the vampire patriarch a bit.
After Constantin and Mariana sat, across from the Reynoldses, near the head of the table, servants came out with trays of food. It all smelled good and came from various cultures. Overseer Malachite was clearly trying to appease everyone.
Constantin and Mariana had blood poured into their goblets. They drank a bit to restore some of their lost energy from the ride. Once finished with the first goblet, they switched over to wine, which most of the others drank. The dwarves drank ales as stout as they were.
Overseer Malachite appeared without preamble, while his guests were still eating. He came from inside the castle and put his hands out wide when he came to the head of the table. “Welcome to my home, friends.”
Lord Obsidian, the gruff dwarf, was quick to reply. “Why have you brought us here on such short notice, Overseer?” Even though the dwarf might not have liked Constantin, Constantin liked him, if only because he got straight to the point and didn’t try to play politics.
“First, I would like to congratulate Lord and Lady Lee, our newest members by way of unification. I hope their child is happy in her marriage to the son of two of our greatest allies, Lord Onyx and Lady Opal. We will celebrate their successful marriage tomorrow afternoon. I hope you all will attend. I have invited a magical, masterful musician from Terrus to perform at the celebration.”
That was news to Constantin. It made him bristle. “Excuse me, Overseer?” he said. “I was not informed about this ‘celebration’ of which you speak.”
“Who’s the musician you invited?” Dosira Reynolds, Lady Opal, asked.
Overseer Malachite frowned and ignored Dosira. He turned to Constantin. “That’s why I’m informing you now.” His mood quickly lightened. With a smile, he added, “The reception will not only be for the marriage between Annabel and Lord Amethyst. It will also mark the Naming Ceremony for you and your wife.”
Lord Obsidian put his stubby palms on the table, face down. “That’s all good and well, Overseer, but you still haven’t answered my question.”
Malachite spun on the dwarf with a scowl. “Have you always been this impatient, Lord?”
“Yes,” said Obsidian’s wife, Lady Chalcedony. It drew a round of chuckles from the table.
Malachite took a deep breath. He readjusted his cloak, which was red and rimmed in gold fur. He looked resplendent in the Brethren livery, though not a bit more lavish than any other nobles at the table. Only Constantin and Mariana seemed underdressed for the occasion. They also lived furthest from the castle, with the exception of the Reynoldses, and were not used to traveling during the day. They were garbed out of caution, which outweighed their need to impress at the dinner table.
Malachite pulled out his chair and took a seat at the table. He said, “I have called this emergency meeting for a simple reason. I have the leaders of the Vagrant Kinship detained within my estate—”
“The so-called ‘leaders,’ my lord,” Jareth Reynolds pointed out.
Malachite narrowed his eyes. “Do not interrupt me again, Lord Onyx. When Geddon killed the Vagrant leader, Tetsuo, he became the de factor head of the group.”
“I’ve heard people don’t want to follow him,” Lady Agate said, her turban moving on her head. No one looked her in the eye.
“That will happen when you commit regicide,” Lord Obsidian added.
“Tetsuo was as much a king as I am a dwarf,” said a voice at the end of the table. Everyone turned. It was Lady Moonstone, the tree dryad, who had spoken.
Her husband, the elven Lord Sunstone, added, “My wife is correct. He did not hold the Vagrant Kinship together firmly.”
“You are both correct,” Overseer Malachite said. “I thank you for your input. There are other leaders within the rebellion, and that is why I have called you here. Geddon is nearly ready to give up the location of his allies. When he does, I want you all prepared to act—swiftly—before they’re given a chance to escape. Is that understood?”
Malachite watched as everyone at the table nodded. “I will split the rebel-hunting by region. Is that understood?”
Everyone nodded again.
“And I’m sure you all see why I was forced to call for you personally. I could not risk the chance of this information getting into the wrong hands.”
“How do you know Geddon is close to giving you what you seek, my lord?” Dosira asked.
“Because if he doesn’t by tonight, the love of his life will die.”
Dosira nodded and stared at the tabletop, unwilling to meet Malachite’s eyes.
“Before the celebration tomorrow,” Malachite continued, “we will have a short meeting to discuss what I’ve learned over the course of the night. I predict tonight will be grueling, because Geddon is tough. As much as it pains me to say.”
A few chuckles floated on the breeze.
After a moment of silence, Overseer Malachite stood from his chair and raised his hands. “That settled, you are all dismissed. Thank you for coming.”
At the sound of nobles groaning, Constantin stood from his seat and eyed Malachite. The human did not seem as powerful as Constantin had originally thought. He had been interrupted during his speech—nearly chastised—without retribution. Some of the Council members even seemed to act a bit insubordinate toward him.
Constantin followed Malachite away from the table. He thought, Perhaps his dethroning will happen sooner than I thought . . .
&nb
sp; “Lord Constantin, where are you going? We have Brethren matters to attend to,” Jareth Reynolds called out when he saw Constantin stalking the Overseer.
Malachite turned around at the sound of footsteps behind him. Constantin was a bit taller than him, and entirely too close for comfort. “Why are you following me, Constantin? Do you think I want you inside my home?”
Constantin shook his head. “No, my lord, but might I request a quick word with you?”
Malachite sighed. He studied Constantin’s pale face, then relented. “Only if it’s quick,” he said, turning to go inside his castle.
They entered the castle through a hallway that led to a study.
“Well?” Malachite asked.
Constantin peeked over his shoulder. When he was sure no one had followed them, he said, “My lord, I have proof of Jareth and Dosira Reynolds’ involvement in the disappearance of my son.”
A look of fury crossed over Malachite’s face. He swiftly subdued it. “What are you talking about? Not this again . . .”
“They killed my boy—”
“Where is your proof?” Malachite snapped.
Constantin blinked at the Overseer. “I will have physical proof by tonight—”
“Physical you say? As in not circumstantial?”
Constantin nodded.
“Then why are you bringing this to me now?”
“Because I’d like you to annul the marriage between Tiberius and my daughter.”
Malachite scoffed. “You have a lot to learn about leadership, Lord Lee. I will not fracture my own Council—not while we are dealing with outside threats. Am I making myself clear? There’s no place for dissension here.”
Constantin felt his anger boiling over. He had expected Malachite would not give him what he wanted without evidence. “If I bring that proof to the celebration tomorrow, will you annul the marriage then?”
Putting his hands on his hips, Malachite said, “It wouldn’t be much of a celebration then, would it?”
The two stared at each other as a moment of silence passed.
“I’ll think about it,” Malachite said at last.
Constantin almost bared his sharp, fanged teeth, but he kept his cool. Malachite would not do anything on a whim, that much was sure. And he wouldn’t do anything without substantial proof—perhaps even with it. It pissed Constantin off that he had no guarantee. Even if he managed to find Charles’ body, it might not be enough to fracture the marriage between Annabel and Tiberius.
“Is that all, Lord Lee?” Malachite asked.
Constantin nodded. “Thank you for your time,” he said, then turned around to leave the way he’d come.
“Don’t forget about the celebration tomorrow,” Malachite called out as Constantin marched down the hallway. “Make sure Annabel dresses in her nicest clothes! Maybe tell her to wear something other than white for a change.”
Constantin didn’t respond to the barb. He knew Jareth and Dosira Reynolds were much more powerful than he was in the Brethren hierarchy. But he’d only just realized how much power they truly controlled.
Back outside, Mariana gave him an expectant look. “Well?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Constantin whispered.
It was nearing sundown and he was desperate to rest his body.
Before he and Mariana could make their escape, Jareth said, “Good work distracting the Overseer. Who told you to do that?”
Constantin’s mind worked quickly, but he had nothing. He didn’t know the other people at the table well enough to try to lie. He said, “It was my idea. Why? What are you discussing?”
“Something very important, Constantin. It’ll be the first vote you and your wife will cast. Exciting, yes?”
Everyone around the table stared at Constantin and Mariana with solemn expressions. The vampires slowly took their seats.
“There we are,” Jareth said. “Now that there are thirteen of us, let us put our former proposal for a vote, shall we? It has been a long time coming.”
“What’s the proposal?” Constantin asked.
Jareth shot Constantin a wry smirk, full of arrogance. “I think you know, Lord Lee. So, how will you two cast your votes?”
They voted on the most important Brethren decision to date. While they did, a black cat with a white underbelly came from underneath the table and strolled away, toward the castle . . .
“CAN YOU BELIEVE THE audacity of that bastard?” Constantin asked when he and Mariana had returned home. The moon was full and high in the sky by the time they returned. It felt good to be home.
“Yes, I can, husband,” Mariana said, leading her horse to the stables around the back of the house. They had no stable boy and they liked it that way. It took them a couple minutes to get the horses settled in their stalls.
Once finished, they headed to the front of the house. Before they reached the front door, Constantin heard footsteps in the distance, thanks to his heightened sense of hearing.
He turned and saw three figures approaching: Pua Kil, Lig, and a naked woman he’d never laid eyes on before. She was blonde and covered her breasts with her arms as she approached.
“We’ve returned, master,” Lig said helpfully, a smile on his face. He was covered in dirt and soil and looked like he’d aged years in the day he’d been gone. Still, he seemed satisfied.
Constantin felt a burden on his shoulders. His entire future strategy rested on what his little house brownie had to say. He also couldn’t take his eyes from the nude woman, and before he could say anything to Lig, Mariana butted in. “Who’s this?” she asked, rather disapprovingly. “And why is she unclothed?”
“This is Fuscia, master. The one we’ve been looking for,” Lig said proudly.
A moment of silence fell over the group. The wind breezed through Fuscia’s straggly hair, whipping it across her face.
“Well? What do you have to report?” Constantin asked, not allowing anyone into his house until he had answers.
“Good news, my lord,” Lig said. “We indeed found the burial site of your son.” He beamed.
A broken sob erupted from behind Constantin. He spun around in time to see Mariana rush into the house, her hands covering her face. When the vampire patriarch turned around, his face was filled with rage and menace. Lig’s smile disappeared. “You fucking imbecile,” he said, taking a step forward, ready to strike the brownie. “She was hoping Charles was still alive! Where’s your decency?”
Lig gulped. “M-My apologies, master. I . . . forgot.”
Constantin clenched his fists. Just then, he finally heard the words Lig had said. His son’s burial site had been found. “Where’s the body?”
“We . . . didn’t have enough people to carry the dead weight, my lord. But the site is less than a day away, in the woods.”
“You will lead me to him,” Constantin said. With that, he strode into the house, leaving Lig, Pua Kila, and Fuscia staring at each other, exhausted from their travels.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
When Steve came to, he found he was lying on a bed, sheets covering him. His face was slick with sweat. The comforter was soaked. A lamp at the end of the room gave off a blurry shine. He blinked a few times to get his bearings. A dull headache pounded behind his eyes. Silhouettes surrounded the bed, slowly coming into focus.
“There he is,” Dale said from Steve’s left, reaching out to pat Steve on the head like he was a sick dog. “See, I told you he would come around,” he said to someone across the bed. “You owe me twenty bucks.”
Aiden, on Steve’s right, groaned and dug into a pocket. He reached over the bed and handed the $20 bill to Dale.
“You guys bet on whether he would live or not?” Scarlet asked, standing next to Aiden. “Unbelievable.”
Neither the leprechaun nor Dale seemed ashamed as they shrugged.
“I knew he would,” Dale said with a smile, “because Aiden never wins a bet.”
“Bollocks,” Aiden replied.
Steve’s to
ngue felt stuck to the roof of his mouth. “H-How long have I been out?”
“All day, mate,” Aiden said.
Steve tried to recall what happened. His thoughts were fuzzy. He remembered being in the shower . . . then . . .
He lifted the sheets, peeked under, and found he was wearing only underwear. To Dale, he said, “What happened?”
“I dunno, man. Me and Shannon were doing our thing in the kitchen, then we heard a loud bang. I ran into the bathroom and you were on the shower floor.”
“You . . . clothed me?”
Dale nodded. “Don’t worry, I didn’t let Scarlet or Shannon see anything. You wouldn’t have liked that. It would have been pretty embarrassing for you since the water seemed to shrink—”
“I get it,” Steve croaked.
“Right. When I got you on the bed, after a little while you started convulsing, like you were having a seizure. It was scary, man.”
“When did you two show up?” Steve asked Aiden and Scarlet, remembering the duo had been absent when he’d woken up that morning. He glanced past them and from a window saw it was dark outside.
“We went to discuss some things, mate,” Aiden said. “Since we’ll be separated in Mythicus—she’s going with the Maker, I’m going with you—I had to give us a rendezvous point.”
“Where did you decide?” Steve didn’t believe that was all the two Mythics spoke about during their absence. Why would they have to leave the house if they were talking about something so mundane?
“My house,” Aiden said. “I need to make sure my gold is under lock and key.”
Dale scoffed. “Don’t you ever think about anything other than money?”
“You mistake my meaning,” Aiden said, crossing his arms over his chest. “If I’m going to fund this insurgency, I need to make sure my money is there when I get there. Understand?”
