“Don’t flatter yourself. I came to thank you, as a matter of fact.”
That spiteful look she had grown up with was plastered all over his marred face.
“What could you possibly have to thank me for?” Evaline asked cautiously. Something was amiss here.
“I came to thank you for allowing me to retain my throne, of course. Without you, it never would have been possible. Imagine my delight when I was approached by Lord Rathe himself. He laid out a delightful little plot that would see the end of you and Arius Jadestar in one fell swoop. All the while I get to play the role of mourning father and enjoy a prominent role in the Dantronian Empire while I’m at it.”
“How could you?” she replied, fuming. “I’m your only daughter, and you sold me to the Dantronian’s?”
“It was all too easy. Every day I look at you, I see that disloyal whore who abandoned me. Never again will I have to set eyes on you, seeing her face. You can never know what it’s like to constantly relive the shame that woman has caused me!”
“Then why didn’t you just kill me yourself? Why leave it up to the Dantronian’s?”
“Don’t think for one moment that I never contemplated it. Truth is, I always assumed Brenan would kill you in the throes of passion one night. Since he disappointed me, I had to get more creative in attaining my means.”
“Brom! Korac!” Evaline shouted desperately, striding for the door. She wanted her father to pay like Brenan had. No, worse than he had.
“That won’t be necessary, I assure you. I was just leaving. Oh, and just so you know, your betrothed is in the city. Lord Dregan will be arriving on the morrow, and he intends to lure Jadestar into the Tower using you as bait. Sleep well, daughter.”
And with that, Jonarus turned his back on his only daughter for the last time.
Chapter 21
“It’s a trap. A very complex trap designed to lure you in and have you eliminated before the war even hits Gaelarian soil. I can’t be sure of the exact specifications, but it appears King Jonarus sold his daughter to Lord Dregan in an attempt to create an alliance between him and Lord Rathe. This pact would insure that he continues to sit his throne with no successors and thus earning him a seat in the hierarchy among the Dantronians.
I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve found no trace of Erantis. My sources have assured me they will continue to search, as will I.
Lord Dregan somehow knows that you are in the city. I cannot reveal my source as to how he knows, but I can assure you that he will not wait long for you to rescue Princess Evaline. He means to destroy you and will hunt you down if need be. Confrontation is obviously inevitable at this point, Lord Arius. My advice is to set it up on your terms. I will return to the Sea’s Bounty again tomorrow at noon awaiting any orders or instructions you may have for me.”
Arius sighed pensively, setting the parchment down after reading it aloud to Xavian.
“Won’t reveal his source? That means Dregan has a Mimic on our tail, and the two of them are collaborating!”
“That’s not necessarily the case. Lurks won’t inform on one another; apparently, there’s a treaty against it. It’s also illegal for them to withhold information from each other should they come into contact with one another. They have very strict laws against it. Seeing as though there are so few of them remaining, they abide by their rules as a matter of racial pride,” Arius explained. “I don’t like it any more than you do, but at least we know a little of what Dregan has planned.”
Xavian sat on the other single bed in the small unadorned room restringing his bow. It didn‘t need it, but it was a habit he had when he was feeling tense. Arius sat cross-legged on the floor upon the room’s lone frayed rug with his sword across his knees, idly drumming his thumb on the hilt.
“Wine?” Arius asked unenthusiastically.
Anything having to do with Dregan or the damned Jenukai Prophecy was a surefire way to ruin is mood. He could already feel his patience ebbing, and it was swiftly growing into unchecked anger.
“Is that your answer to everything? Numbing your brain and deluding your senses won’t solve our problems,” Xavian replied sternly.
Arius stood, tossing his sword across the small area in between the beds onto his own mattress. He stretched and yawned dramatically, trying without much effort to stifle his rage.
“No, but it sure beats the hells out of planning a way to murder my own brother before he can do the same to me in kind!” he snapped.
“Cast the lurid realities aside, Arius. We need a plan, and we need it now. You read that letter. That monster will be hunting us in a matter of days.”
“Do you want the truth?” Arius asked, heat streaming into his voice as it rose to a crescendo.
Xavian opened his mouth to reply, but Arius steamrolled over whatever he might have had to say.
“I’m not prepared for this.For any of it! The world’s problems literally rest on my shoulders, and half the time I just want to tell the world to go and fuck itself! I’m viewed by an entire nation as a savior who has valor leaking from his cock and is supposed to spew some kind of a utopian destiny from his ass! What am I, really? I’ll fill you in, Xavian. I’m not a hero, and I’m nobody’s fucking savior. I’m a womanizing lush who hasn’t got a clue as to how to save this particular woman from my brother, or how in the hells we’re supposed to survive fighting him!”
Xavian strode over to the bedside table and poured a glass of wine from the decanter. Arius stood trembling in the middle of the room with his fists clenched, breathing heavily from his tirade. He reached out for the glass that Xavian was proffering him and instead was doused directly in the face with it. He sputtered, choking a bit as he wiped the costly varietal from his eyes.
“There’s your drink. Now, if you’re quite done feeling sorry for yourself we have business to discuss.” Xavian stood tensely, obviously prepared should Arius lash out at him.
“Did you have to use the good stuff?” It was as if the wine dripping from his face had quenched the flames within. Arius smirked, cocking his head.
“I can‘t ever tell the difference between the good and the bad. It all tastes the same to me,” Xavian laughed in response, tossing Arius a towel from the washstand.
“Thank you, I… needed that. Look, I’m sorry. I realize that you don’t like the brand of spy we currently have under contract, but it does bring up a valid point.”
“Which is?” Xavian asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice at the mention of the Mimic.
“The real question is how are we to goad my brother into playing this game he has created onto our playing field?” Arius asked as he toweled his face dry and selected a new shirt from his pack after discarding the stained one.
“Dregan has dangerous pieces at his disposal, that’s for certain. He’s the most powerful Shadow Priest to ever live, and he has a pair of Demon Priests hidden conveniently up his sleeves. If we’re to succeed against stacked odds like those, we’re going to have to put the Genai Forms to the test, if you ask me.” Xavian stated gravely.
The archer sat back down on his bed, propping his bow between his mattress and the wall.
“That could be costly to the war effort in the long run. Dantron has no idea that we have the Genai Forms at our disposal. Say, for instance, that Dregan somehow manages to capture Alrukar, or Rotu in their Sphere or Defender forms and is able to deduce how Landran created them. My brother is undeniably mad, but he is also quite brilliant in magical theory. Putting weapons like that into his hands could have catastrophic results for us.”
“Then the real question isn’t whether or not we can get Dregan to unknowingly cooperate with our scheme. It’s whether the reward is ultimately worth the risk in this instance.”
Arius had known the answer to that question long before it was posed to him. He and Xavian spent the rest of that long night coming up with an operable way of hindering Dregan’s agenda. It was the type of cold, calculated decision making he had ne
ver wanted to become accustomed to, but at the end of the day, he didn’t have a choice in the matter.
Arius slipped Lint two letters the following day, one of which read like this:
“You will approach Lord Dregan with the second of these notes. You are not to open it under any circumstances. It will outline my unconditional surrender and list my terms.”
Sleep eluded Evaline as she lay in her canopy bed, feeling totally numb. She had cried herself out, it seemed. Her head pounded from weeping uncontrollably, and she had vomited from the pain and her racking sobs. It was a few hours prior to dawn, and her thoughts were a torrent she could not control. Her father’s final betrayal was at the forefront of those thoughts.
Jonarus had shown her nothing but disdain her entire life and hadn’t once displayed even a modicum of love for her. Despite all of that, Evaline could never have imagined him throwing her life away like this. Deep down, she knew the absurdity of those feelings. She knew that Jonarus would feel only jubilation at maintaining his throne instead of the anguish of losing his only daughter.
Evaline hiccupped and laughed bitterly at that thought. She had taken an immense amount of pride in not feeling sorry for herself throughout the course of her life. Jonarus had now taken that away from her as surely as he had done so with her innocence, her freedom, and now her life. All she could do anymore was dwell on the fact that nobody would mourn her after she was killed. It was a crushing thought that the only person to grieve for her would be herself.
New tears welled up in her eyes as a light knocking interrupted her morose thinking. She quickly wiped her eyes and rolled over, pretending to be asleep.
“I know you’re awake, little princess,” Brom said softly as he entered her chambers. “Come take a walk with us. A handsome lout like me needs a beautiful woman on his arm while he takes a late night stroll. Isn‘t that right, Korac?”
“Aye, then I should take off my helm so she can decide which of us is more becoming. Wouldn’t you agree, Brom?”
“Why would you go and turn her stomach like that, Korac?”
“Alas, it’s true, I am quite horrific to look upon. Perhaps she would take pity on a grotesque soul like me, and we could walk with me arm in arm to lighten my spirits. Eh, Brom?”
Evaline laughed in spite of herself at their banter and rolled to face them. Brom was smiling, which pulled his scars in tightly on his features, and Korac as usual hid underneath his demon-faced helmet.
“Don’t you two ever get sweaty wearing that ridiculous armor?” she teased.
“The proverbial floodgates are open, little princess,” remarked Brom. A twinkle that she was beginning to enjoy brightened his eyes as his smile widened.
“And in the most unseemly of areas. Quite unpleasant isn’t it, Brom?” Korac said in feigned discomfort.
“Where are you spiriting me away to at this un-godliest of hours, gentleman? Are you ushering me away to freedom under the cover of shadow?” Evaline replied with mock hope in her voice.
“So, which one of us is the luckiest man in the world tonight, little princess?” Brom’s smile faltered a bit as he avoided the question.
“Hmmm… Well, since I don’t want either of you becoming distracted walking behind me with all this tantalizing hip swaying I‘ll be doing, I have to choose you both out of concern for all the walls you might be stumbling into.” Evaline felt only slightly disappointed that her new friends couldn’t set her free, so she kept up the pretense of being charming to mask her hurt. “Now out with you both so I can change into something more suited for strolling.”
Moments later she was dressed in tight fitting breeches, comfortable boots of a wonderful suede, and a long coat that kept out the cold dampness from the sea. This wasn’t the first time she had walked late at night with Brom and Korac. They enjoyed taking her to where they could get the best possible view of the moonlit ocean. She walked at a casual pace in between the two Demon Priests, who for some reason had become very quiet.
“There’s a particular balcony that has a breathtaking view of the sea I was hoping to show you,” Evaline prompted.
“I’m afraid we won’t be watching the waves tonight, little princess.”
There was a definite twinge of sorrow in Brom’s voice. They usually climbed to the highest points the Tower had to offer, but Brom and Korac led her deep into its belly this night. An ominous feeling crept over Evaline as they continued down spiraling staircase after spiraling staircase. The silence of Brom and Korac stretched on and on, only adding to her dread.
“We could wake up the kitchen staff and demand they make us a feast,” Evaline offered after several more minutes of terrifying silence.
She knew the path in which they were taking her. They were heading towards her father’s throne room and her veins turned into ice at the realization.
“I’m sorry, little princess. I truly am,” Brom responded grimly.
They finally came to a halt outside of the throne room’s giant metal doors. They were engraved with the ancient seal of Axion. The crest was an elaborate, multi-limbed tree that signified the strength of the tower and the branches that symbolized the ruling families that had governed from its once prominent seat.
Brom pounded on the door three times, his gauntlets echoing in rhythm with Evaline’s hammering heart.
The doors swung inward, revealing a lone man sitting on the steps leading to the throne. The forest of pillars surrounding the dais were spiraled with thousands of candles that projected an eerie incandescence on the figure. The elongated shadows cast by the pillars seemed to be drunken up greedily by the black armor he wore.
Evaline gasped and fought down the urge to vomit as two decapitated heads rose up from behind the throne. They began to levitate over Lord Dregan as he watched her from his perch. Even at this distance there was no mistaking her father’s face, but who was the other victim? A primitive urge to flee overcame her in that moment, but before she could act on the impulse, Brom spoke up like he could sense it in her.
“Don’t do anything foolish. Things could get… out of control if you’re not very careful, little princess.”
“Bring her to me,” Lord Dregan commanded in a frigid tone.
“Yes, Master,” Brom and Korac bowed and murmured as one.
As they approached Lord Dregan, Evaline squinted trying to identify the head belonging to the other head floating next to her father’s. The blue stones imbedded into Brom and Korac’s breast plates began to glow brighter as they approached, making it all but impossible to tell whom the poor person may have been.
By the time they stood a few feet away, the light had become so fulgent that it was painful to look at directly. A harsh guttural growling seemed to be emanating from the crystals, and both Brom and Korac were panting as though they had just drastically exerted themselves. They prostrated themselves before the Shadow Priest, and Evaline moved to emulate them. The merest shake of Brom’s head kept her on her feet, however.
“Take off your face, Korac,” commanded Lord Dregan. “I would look upon who you used to be.”
Korac flinched, but quickly obliged his master. As he unhooked a series of complex straps that connected the mask along the neck, a peculiar steam streamed forth as each clasp was undone. As he finished and lowered the demonic helm, Evaline couldn’t quite stifle the gasp she let out. Korac was perfection incarnate, with flowing black hair and crimson eyes. As she studied him further, something stood out even more than his stunning beauty, though. His eyes held in them a deep and terrible sadness. They were like the eyes that looked back at her from her own reflection in the mirror.
She looked to Brom, who shared Korac’s despondent gaze. Even in her own state of melancholy at her impending demise, her heart went out to them both for reasons she could hardly explain. Yes, these men had joked with her and been pleasant to converse with, but they were also her jailers and would be the men that escorted her to the gallows.
Lord Dregan sat with a sword that
was blacker than a moonless evening lying across his armored thighs. He tapped his thumb on the hilt and studied all three of them with a deeply penetrating stare. That stare alternated in between that of a feral beast and a lucidity that appeared like he could read your very thoughts. These were the eyes of an utter madman she realized.
“You have done very well. Both of you have exceeded my expectations. Originally I was going to come here and slaughter all of you. Care to explain to our guest here why I had such murderous intentions towards the three of you?”
Evaline trembled from head to toe at the casual way Lord Dregan spoke of killing them.
“Because we failed to lure in Arius Jadestar, my Lord Dregan...” Brom began.
“My instructions were clear, were they not? You were told to capture my brother along with the princess and to hold them until my arrival. So why haven’t I laid waste to you then, Demon Priest?”
“We cannot comprehend why you have spared our lives, Lord Dregan.” Korac bowed his head to the floor as he responded.
Lord Dregan pulled forth from inside his gauntlet a crumpled piece of parchment and threw it into Brom‘s face.
“You did a fine job delivering me the head of Erantis. That was a mighty blow to the Circle of Seven. For that, you both will be rewarded handsomely.”
Evaline’s eyes bulged at hearing that the second of the disembodied heads belonged to Erantis, the Architect of Axion and a member of The Circle of Seven.
“As for King Jonarus’? Well, his usefulness has expired, so he will no longer be needed.”
That comment from Dregan didn’t even stir a reaction from the princess as she watched the heads bounce off one another like lazy fish in a pond.
“Read it aloud, Brom,” Dregan commanded, indicating the crumpled paper at the Demon Priest’s bowed head. Brom quickly snatched up the note and began to read.
“Brother, I am fully aware of your plot. There is no need for any further pretense between us. I have come for Evaline and nothing more. I know of your intentions to murder us both, but for honor’s sake I fully submit to you and your domain if you would spare her life in exchange for my own. I will meet you on the morrow at the Celestial Dunes on the outskirts of the city.
Dragons of Destiny Page 21
