JOURNEY OF THE SACRED KING III

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JOURNEY OF THE SACRED KING III Page 61

by JANRAE FRANK


  * * * *

  Mohanja's eyes widened as he watched Aramyn bringing both the lords Kjarten into his upstairs study, which was larger than his office. "What has happened? Did you catch her?"

  "She never tried to harm anyone, Mohanja. She built a pyre beside the crypts and immolated herself," Lord Taurlys told him.

  "That is not the important part." Aramyn interrupted. "She gave testimony before witnesses first. Against her father and Galee. They are the vampires. Furthermore, she says that with her death, having harmed none, our god will have restored the book."

  "Sooooo," Mohanja breathed out in a long breath. "I want the statements written down before we do anything else and signed. Move too quickly and we are damned. Too slowly and we are dead. Send someone to Queiggy. Tell him nothing; ask him simply to check the book again. Pester him if you must. The book is our omen. Then stand there and watch as he looks upon it. See if it has indeed changed."

  "I will go myself."

  "But not alone. No one travels alone." At Aramyn's nod, Mohanja then addressed the lords Kjarten. "When I have your statements, I wish to send you on to Eshraf. He will want to hear you and perhaps you might wish to say prayers for poor Belyla's soul." We have Galee! Dear My God, we have her, at last!

  * * * *

  When Dynarien Jumped back to Talons' rooms, he found Bryndel sitting in the parlor with Edouina and Talons. The sight of Bryndel enraged him. He knew, in his mind, that Bryndel was not directly to blame. But in his heart, torn by grief, Bryndel represented all the terrible things that had happened since spring: Arruth's murder; the attack on Jysy; the attempt on his own and Edouina's lives; Yukiah, and now Talons' dying. He seized Bryndel, slamming him against the wall.

  "What the hell are you doing?" Bryndel shrieked, his face flushed with panic. He grabbed at Dynarien's hands, trying vainly to get loose.

  "Dynarien," Edouina said. "Let him go."

  "Edouina, bar the door. Now!"

  Something in his tone set off alarms in Edouina's head and she obeyed.

  Dynarien slammed Bryndel again. "You'll tell me everything, because I've got nothing left to lose. My last hope is gone."

  Bryndel looked at Edouina and then at Talons. "Help me, he's crazy."

  "Dynarien, let's talk about this."

  The Twice-Born Son's next words built up into a shriek of rage and grief, erupting from his core before he could stop it. "Don't you understand, Bryndel? You must have known it. Talons is dying. They poisoned her. They've been poisoning her for months. There's no antidote. And even if there were, she'd never be well again."

  Bryndel paled and ceased to struggle. He could no longer force aside his own knowledge and fears for her or himself. There came a tiny echo in the back of his memories, as if Galee had told him this and then took the memories or shoved them too deep to reach. Anguish came rushing in and his own life ceased to matter as it had that day when he slit his wrists, and in the dream vision of Hadjys. He thought of Belyla, of Yahni's dead face as his body lay in the Temple surrounded by his grieving family, of the sound of his sister's voice shivering up through the walls at night in her heart-broken weeping for Yahni. His terror of Galee became nothing more than an aching numbness. "What do you want to know?"

  "It's all right, I've known for several hours, Willodarus told me," Talons said in a soft, oddly detached voice. She heard weeping and looked down to see Edouina at her feet. "Don't cry, Edouina. It's all right. I always believed I would die in battle. I would have preferred that. I feel cheated."

  "Who is the vampire, Bryndel?"

  "Gylorean Galee." As soon as he said her name, he doubled over, clutching at his head and screaming. Pain, like daggers thrust into his brain, seared through him.

  "Edouina, his hands!" Dynarien shouted.

  Edouina pulled Bryndel's hands down, holding them tightly. Bryndel twisted and writhed, desperate to get his hands to his head.

  Dynarien touched Bryndel's temples, extending his awareness into his body. "This is bad." He began to release the coercions. Galee had been thorough, probably working on Bryndel since childhood. Vampires could afford to be patient, though they often were not. It was all a matter of appetite.

  Bryndel's pain receded. He curled onto his side; his face wet with tears, and said something so horrifying it sent a tremor through everyone present. "Sa'necari ... vampire royals ... demons ... sleepers... Galee says," he began to sob with terror. "They're in all the realms. Even in the far east ... all set to take over ... no place to run ... no place at all."

  Dynarien's expression turned still graver. "We routed them in Shaurone, Bryndel. I'll tell my sire and we'll hunt them from one end of this continent to the other. For now, let's just worry about Creeya. Edouina, let him go. Fetch Jysy and Alora and the Guildsmyn guarding them. Then someone find Alysyn. I suspect she's had some experience with this."

  Edouina raced out.

  Talons lowered herself to the ground, put her back to the couch, and took Bryndel's hand, patting and stroking. "It's going to be all right."

  Dynarien gave his shoulder a companionable squeeze. "This may take all day and all night."

  "I'll handle it."

  The group soon circled Bryndel. Dynarien ordered Talons to the far side of the room. "One of a vampire's main gifts is terror. Most of the coercions here are based on terror. If it gets too bad, it could stop his heart."

  "I don't want to outlive her," Bryndel said, his voice filled with desolation. "Do what you must."

  The others arrived. Alora glanced at Bryndel and then Dynarien. She slowly shook her head, a stunned and disbelieving look on her face.

  "Talons is dying. She's got a month or less. They poisoned her. There's no antidote," Dynarien told them.

  Jysy's eyes teared up, her fears confirmed.

  "Help him," Talons told them. "It's too late for me, but maybe not for him."

  "We know the vampire is Galee, as I release his mind, he'll be able to tell us more. Jysy, you take one hand and Alora the other. Edouina, sooth him when he starts to panic. Monitor him closely. We don't want to lose him."

  Edouina opened Bryndel's shirt and gasped, he was almost as badly bitten as Arruth had been and all of it was recent, perhaps just in the last few days. Jysy saw it also, wincing. Edouina began to rub his belly, letting the bi-kyndi extend into him. All the cells of his body felt laced with terror. She pushed against it, soothing and relaxing Bryndel's body, fighting for control of it. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry... How much you suffer."

  The Guildsmon moved up behind Jysy and, seeing the extent of Bryndel's scars, said grimly, "They'll pay for this. For all of it."

  A chorus of meowing sounded at the door. Talons rose slowly and answered, letting seven catkins, led by Lo'Ah, into the rooms. Now that she knew what was wrong with herself, she fought harder to move about. Anger helped.

  Bryndel screamed and thrashed: Each time he revealed some new atrocity committed by his father and Galee, it set off a round of seizures. The Guildsmon captured Bryndel's legs, holding them down so that he could not inadvertently kick someone. The group working with him redoubled their efforts.

  "My father," he gasped as Dynarien freed more of the deadly coercions. "My father killed Arruth ... attacked Jysy." A long, anguished howl tore from Bryndel's throat, quivering with pain and desolation.

  Jysy lost her hold on his hand as something warm and wet erupted from it. Her stomach turned queasy looking at the blood. His palm lay opened in a long gash as if slashed by a blade. Another gapped along his stomach, and then another across his ribs. Jysy swallowed a scream. Galee's spells and coercions were killing him.

  Lo'Ah shape-shifted, pushing Jysy aside, taking Bryndel's hand in her place. The catkin shaman sang and Bryndel stilled. No more wounds appeared. Bryndel gave him a pathetically grateful look: For the first time in his life, he perceived people as caring for him.

  Jysy stood back, watching them. Tears of anger and grief ran down her face. The murderer of her sister, and her own
assailant, were now revealed. She felt sorry for Bryndel – he was in so much pain – and she understood why he had not told anyone. He was paying a terrible price for opening up to them. Warm, furry hands touched her in comforting strokes. The catkin embraced and held her. Others hugged her briefly and chin marked her.

  "Something bad is going to happen at the wedding tomorrow. I don't know what. They don't talk to me any more."

  Dynarien released Bryndel and sat back. "It's time to put the word out among the Guild. The Netherguard and the Taladrim already move."

  The Guildsmon nodded. "I'll take care of it."

  * * * *

  Alysyn arrived and Alora filled her in.

  "It's a coup. I'm certain of it," Alysyn said. "Everyone of importance will be at the wedding. They can wipe out the entire Creeyan aristocracy in a single blow. The only one they need alive is Talons and that's only until the children are born."

  "I wish we had figured it out sooner," Talons replied. "There are so many things I would have done different."

  "So would we all," Alysyn said. "My husband's brothers' and sister's deaths are on Galee's head. She is the one we could not find. She butchered Talatiel, I know it now." As Alysyn finally said her name for the first time in thirty years, her eyes filled and her expression hardened. Like all the rest of her circle, she had loved the yuwenghau who had worked with them to stop that long ago plague of vampires. Yukiah had been the one who found her dead. There had been no more attacks after that, almost as if the vampire had butchered her out of spite – as Wrathscar had Arruth – before going into hiding. Apparently Galee had chosen to bide her time, watching for another opportunity. She had found it in Wrathscar.

  "Talons," Alysyn leaned close, putting her mouth to the heir's ear. "I do not know that you will find comfort in this, but the branch clan has come. We have a prince to lead us."

  Talons gave Alysyn a look of relief and gratitude so pure that it was heart breaking. "Yes. It comforts me, knowing there will be strong prince upon the throne when I die."

  Alora and Edouina helped Bryndel to sit. He looked exhausted, haggard.

  Dynarien turned to him. "You need to rest a bit. Eat something. I'll do everything I can today and tonight. It's my opinion that it will take years for you to be completely free of them. Under no circumstances are you to leave this room. She'll know what I have done."

  "Get enough of them out that I can kill my father tomorrow." Then for the first time in months he allowed himself to think deeply about Belyla, and Bryndel began to cry.

  * * * *

  Aramyn cracked the door open before giving it a hard rap and then swaggered in, having decided that the best way to get Queiggy to pull the book down and look at it might be to irritate him and leave him no room to maneuver politely. The Guildsmon had never done this before, it was out of character, but he had seen some of the younger myn pull it on the old record's keeper to great effect – especially when Queiggy had a lot on his mind. Which he certainly did then.

  "Hey, Queiggy! Mohanja wants you to look at the book!"

  "Why? It's too ruined to make sense of. I've tried." Queiggy made a gesture of brushing Aramyn off.

  Aramyn knew where the book was, so he started poking through everything on the wrong shelves. Queiggy jumped up, stalking over, eyes widening in suspicion, his head leaning in and forward. "What is wrong with you?"

  "Mohanja wants you to look at the book. Where is it?"

  "Is that really you, Aramyn?" Queiggy sniffed at him, grabbed a strand of his hair, bringing it to his nose and sniffing that.

  "Mohanja wants you to look at the book. I'm going to harass you until you do." He leaned against the bookcase and nearly sent it crashing, which he never intended, and it startled them both. Aramyn jumped.

  "One more strange behavior," Queiggy warned, in a tremulous attempt at a growl which failed because his voice was a tenor. "And I'll be stripping your shirt off to check for bites."

  "Okay! Okay." Aramyn gestured palms up and sat down. "It's important. Look at the book. It was a silly ploy, but it works for the young guys. You always talk rings around me, old mon."

  Queiggy looked mollified as he took the book down, dusted it off, and carried it to the table. The first thing he noticed was that the cover was all nice and shiny black, like a fine new book. All the mildew was gone, the water staining, and the curled up corners. Queiggy glanced at the shelf, since clearly this could not be the book, yet there were no others there that could be it, except this one. So he opened it up. He was a tree and trees knew books. All the smudged ink was now clear; all the words that had been missing were back. Page after page of words, they were all back. His eyes darted from line to line, reading a little here and a little there, glancing and turning pages, glancing and turning more pages. Then he came on something that made a scream rise in his throat and he swallowed it back.

  Although I am fallen from my godhood, I shall one day find one with the power to re-open my god box and restore me. Then even my accursed husband, Bellocar, had best guard his back. Then all shall fear and revere Gylorean Galee once more.

  Aramyn saw the look on Queiggy's face and touched him, getting a sharp flinch reaction. "What's wrong?"

  "The book has been restored, but by the High Holiest Nine, we are in so much trouble. Galee is wife to Bellocar."

  Aramyn felt sick, a bit unnerved yet determined not to be unmanned by it. "Read me." Queiggy did so and then Aramyn asked. "So how much power are we talking about? Is she a yuwenghau?"

  "Irrfelghau. Dark side. No. But easily as strong. She's old. This means she's the same one who fought my grandsire for seven days and seven nights."

  "So what do we do? Belyla did show up and she witnessed against Wrathscar and Galee to the Lords Kjarten. Mohanja sent a bunch of us plus a temple battle unit off to their mansion. We found her building a pyre by the crypts close to where they entombed Yahni. Her sacrifice, made without ever having taken a life, was given to Hadjys in exchange for his restoring the book. That's what she told us before climbing into the flames."

  "So that's what this was all about? Having me check on the book? Why didn't you just say so?"

  "Mohanja wanted the omen to arrive cold with no expectations from you."

  "Ah. Well, get back to him. Tell him the secret ways are now open; I'll wait for word to end the silent mutiny. We need only for Eshraf to declare Galee anathema and excommunicate. Meanwhile I intend to gather all our magic workers, magi, every practitioner of the arts from among our allies, starting with the Fae."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  MOHANJA ACTS

  Mikkal stared at the gathering. "What is happening?"

  Alora rose from the floor, going to his side. "We have the whole story now. Dynarien has begun to break Galee's coercions in Bryndel. It's half killing Bryndel at times, but Dynarien is getting them out. If you want to sit down somewhere I'll tell you all of it."

  "No time. Galee's taken Lord Derryl. Everyone at his mansion is dead."

  "Maya and Leslie?" Alysyn had come up.

  "Maya is with Eshraf. Leslie is still at their lodge. When Maya heard from Timjimikin that he had never arrived at court, she came to find him. Eshraf needs Dynarien if we've any hope of finding Derryl alive."

  Alysyn went for the yuwenghau, spoke briefly in his ear, and returned with him.

  "There's going to be a coup in the wedding chapel," Alysyn told him. "Arrive armed tomorrow, Mikkal."

  The priest nodded.

  Dynarien glanced at them, extending his hands. "Eshraf's study? Join hands."

  The four of them Jumped and startled Maya by appearing at her elbow.

  He's matured, Maya thought, when she saw Dynarien's face. Eshraf had told her only a little, but that had been horrific. She scarcely heard what was said to her.

  "Maya, I'm sorry about Derryl, tell me how I can serve," Dynarien said.

  "The lore books," Eshraf interposed, "speak of a wondrous scrying pool in your garden."

&nbs
p; Dynarien frowned. "I'm not close enough to Derryl to find him. We have met only a few times."

  "But Maya is."

  Lore books? He's written about in the lore books? Somehow her grief wrapped mind could not wrap itself around that, although the implications were obvious.

  "My sister doesn't like me bringing visitors to the gardens ... I've already done it once in the last week. I'm going to get into so much trouble," Dynarien started to explain, shook his head, and grabbed Maya's hand, "Come. Let's go look for Derryl."

  They appeared in a lovely garden filled with fruiting trees and plants, berry bushes of all kinds. An aura of peace lay over it. Birds sang and small creatures peeked out at her timidly. At the far end stood a quaint white cottage trimmed in forest green and dark brown, and in front of it a pool.

  "Is this your home?"

  "Yes. I haven't time to show it to you." Dynarien took Maya's hand, leading her to the pool. "I've only met Derryl a few times, so I haven't formed a close enough connection to him to find him. Look into the pool, Maya. Look with all your heart and love. Emotion is most important, that's what the pool responds to best. If it's ugly, you must stay calm so we don't lose the image before I can use to pool to Jump us there."

  Maya took a deep breath. "I'll try."

  She looked deeply, trying to see Derryl, imagining his face, calling to him. She remembered his face when he got those messages calling him back, that look of determination to help his friends; heard his promise to write and send word; the way he looked riding out.

  The water roiled and cleared. Lord Derryl hung in chains in a brick arched room, sooty red-brick walls on three sides and a low arch on the third, beyond it lay a room of bookcases with books and files and boxes and chests. He was bloody, beaten, and burned by the torturer's irons. When Maya would have screamed, Dynarien steadied her. Galee stood before Derryl. Only the image came through and no words. Strange creatures with fangs capered about her, twisted things. She waved fingers in his face, venom oozing from the tips. He roused enough for a shadow of his old devil-may-care smile and spat in her face. Her mouth moved as if in a scream of rage and she shoved several nails into his leg. Derryl convulsed and then sagged in his bonds. Galee stalked out as her creatures took him down, dragged him through to a door to the outside, and threw his body onto a trash heap. Water ran past in the roofed over darkness of the sewer depths. Dynarien seized Maya's hands and Jumped.

 

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