by L. M. French
“Phineas,” I breathed his name like a prayer. “Show me you’re in there, wolf.” I focused on his form and reached inside for the spark that connected us, but it was dark and cold there. There were no fiery threads to follow.
Fine.
I shook my hair away from my face where it was sticky from blood and sweat. I studied our accommodations and concluded this was some kind of communal area. It was large enough for a group and there was a fire pit dug into the ground surrounded by crudely assembled benches.
There were no gaps in the canvas, and I couldn’t tell what was a wall and what was an exit.
Or where the threat would come from next.
I could only hope the Din had been middlemen for some other assholes. We needed a fighting chance.
I pulled at the ropes at my wrist again and hissed as the threads frayed but I pulled harder at the sound of creaking wood. Can’t break the ropes, break the chair. I grinned grimly.
The back of the chair cracked as I pulled forward but not enough to pull my arms over. I was going to have to snap it and I only knew one way to do that.
It sucked but not as much as torture. One glance at Phin’s prone body and I threw caution to the wind.
Rocking forward I tipped until all my weight was balanced on my toes in the most undignified awkward squat of my life.
Okay, Veda deep breath in and go. I pulled oxygen into my lungs, coiled my muscles, and flipped. I crashed down on my back, the position of my arms enough to break the wood of the chair.
Groaning I rolled away as the pieces rained carelessly to the floor. Instead of getting up, I lifted my feet to my head and pulled my bound wrists around my butt and over my feet.
Better and better.
Now get the ropes off, wake my two-hundred-pound sleeping beauty and escape from wherever the hell we were. Easy Peasy.
I scrambled to my feet and looked around for something sharp enough to cut through the rope. No knives magically appeared so I settled for prying them loose on the corner of a bench. Bloodier but free, I crouched over Phin looking for the knot in his ropes.
I rolled him onto his back and oh my gods someone ate their Wheaties. Grunting I sat back on my heels and froze. Blackened veins crawled from underneath the rope. They stretched all the way down to his wrists and climbed towards his shoulders.
I pried the rope away from his flesh and cursed as my fingers went numb. Between the weave of the rope was metallic thread, dull grey with a purple sheen.
Nekroite.
Any living thing exposed to it for too long would wither and die. One of the few articles capable of killing the unkillable and outlawed in the four territories. And they’d woven it into the rope.
“Shit.” Stronger words were needed. “Crazy butt-licking carni-loving honorless sons of whores-“
“Now, now, now,” a voice tsk’d behind me, “I think you’ve embarrassed Father Time.”
I twisted around still crouching over Phin’s body. Top Hat gave me a little bow but I didn’t give him the time of day. No, it was the Artist Formerly Known As Grakel that got my full attention.
This was the guy Sai was worried about? I mean, he was a priest so sure that was problematic but give me a door and I was golden.
“What do you want?”
Grakel slipped the hood of his robe down and folded his hands in front of him. “You will submit yourself to the order for judgment.”
Judgment. Sweat slicked palms and dampened my shirt. This was bad, and by bad, I mean pretty much the worst thing that could happen to a halfling. Judgment meant the trials and no one had successfully endured them since they began eons ago.
“Why me?” I mean besides the halfling part- we were always under suspicion, watched carefully for signs of a fraying soul.
Grakel cast Phin a derisive look. “The King’s guard was informed of your transfer to our authority. I take it they did not share this with you.”
No, they hadn’t. But this certainly explained why they’d rushed me out of Sai’s compound. I guess I should be grateful they hadn’t been willing to turn me over but a heads up wouldn’t have killed anyone.
I saw Ozias’ vacant eyes in my mind and shook it away.
“The King hasn’t relinquished me to the council.”
He wouldn’t, either.
And not just because I was important to him. The last halfling to be submitted to the Priest and his cohorts was almost three hundred years before I was born and had spawned The Bloody Days.
Sai had relinquished no other halfling’s since. If one proved unstable it was handled in-house. He did not outsource his dirty work.
The old prick knew it too. “Sai has long interfered. His wisdom has given way to empathy that is dangerous for us all. We let it continue for too long before we took action.”
My eyes narrowed. Somehow, I didn’t think I was the action he was referring to- no this sounded worse. Which was astounding considering the circumstances.
“Okay so you grabbed me. Why take Phineas?”
I was a means to find Sai. Phin was pack. They would war with the last of the Timorii for this one transgression.
Grakel’s lips puckered distastefully. “These creatures were overzealous. The wolf will be returned to continue the search for his King.”
I arched a brow. “So why is he tied with Nekroite?” Looking at his blackened arms I winced. Any longer they’d have to cut them off and let them regrow.
“Well, that would be my doing, love.” Top Hat pressed a hand against his chest modestly. “I’m afraid your other bidder requested extras.”
“My other bidder?” Incredulity made me hostile. “Bidder?”
Top Hat spun giving me a good look at the bedazzled monstrosity that was the back of his fringed leather jacket. Fringe.
A flap in the tent snapped open letting the dwindling sun in with it.
Late afternoon.
We’d been held there most of the afternoon. The light made shadows of the bodies moving towards us obscuring their face’s but I knew that shape. A mohawk cut down the middle of his head giving away the identity of the last person I needed to be trapped in a room with- crazy Timorii priests notwithstanding.
Ivory.
A smaller figure appeared from behind him, dressed in white as was her way. Senevia. My dear old foster mom and her psycho offspring. This was starting to feel like a double feature at the shit-show.
If Grakel’s face soured anymore he’d shit curds. He turned to face the new arrivals and spat, literally spat, at Ivory’s feet. “What is the meaning of this, Nior-hema?”
Senevia smirked. “We’re here to see Veda does not escape her fate, Grakel.”
Ooohhh, dis. Grakel had used her title and she’d called him by his government name. That wouldn’t go over well. The White Light, cue eye roll, were a formal bunch.
“He is not of the Light. He is contaminated and unfit to bear witness to the trials!” Worked up now, bands of blue rose across Grakel’s face and around the base of each thumb. For Timorii the bands signaled the purity and strength of their bloodline. That his marks were raised signaled an impending hissy fit.
Senevia stalked forward, jabbing her finger in Grakel’s face while Ivory watched with a predatory smile. I had a feeling I knew which bidder had the winning ticket. “You’re days of deciding- you’re days of judging are done!” She hissed. “We’ll do what needs to be done- what you weak, narrow-minded frocks dream of doing while you whinge and squawk like cowards.”
Grakel stumbled back as she shoved a hand hard into his chest. Bands darkened into solid stripes across his arms and face. He dropped his hands palms down and out as his seals rippled.
Yeah, funny story.
The Timorii passed power down from generation to generation through their seals. Like how Sai had used part of himself to give me mine and why Bay had a shit hemorrhage when he found out.
For priests like Grakel it wasn’t enough to kill him. His seals would need to be destroyed
and that was a lot more complicated than cutting his hands off and burning them. While his magic lived, so did he.
Easing my hand behind me I curled my fingers around Phin’s and visualized a glowing orb like the mass Myra had shown me in my dream.
I wasn’t sure this was a good idea; I could very well kill him faster than the nekroite but if Ivory had ordered it done, he didn’t intend for him to survive at all. The Din, Top Hat, danced on his toes as if there really was a show underway below the big top.
I curled my fingers tighter around my wolf’s and imagined my orb brighter, building it hotter and prayed it didn’t destroy him. Heat ran across my skin as I forced the energy from me to Phin.
In my mind’s eyes I pushed the orb from my center down my arm to my fingertips where it wobbled for a moment -a moment I felt extraordinary panic that it might come rushing back at me- before it slipped into Phin’s hand.
At first nothing happened and I tried to keep an ear on the bad priest/worse priestess situation while I figured out what had gone wrong. Unless nothing had gone wrong cause I was having an elaborate hallucination about pretty balls of sunshine.
My attention was brought back to the soap opera playing out in front of me when Grakel jerked back. Blood welled from his shoulder where a blade protruded from the back. Top Hat whooped, bobbing, and weaving as if he were watching a boxing match.
A loud clapped cracked through the air. Grakel’s robes whipped around before he disappeared and something- a bird- shot from the folds where his body used to be and darted out of the tents flap.
That was a neat trick. It would certainly be handy right about now.
My head jerked as Phin jolted. His legs shot out straight and his body bowed like he was being electrocuted. I spun on my heels giving up any pretext of submission and grabbed Phin’s shoulder. His eyes shot open, wild, and pained and filled with fire.
Fuck.
The fire raced through his body, the nekroite rope smoked and he writhed. Where his veins were blackened before now he glowed like an iron in a forge.
Instinct had me reaching for him lowering my mouth to him. Recall that energy back before it destroyed more than the poison in his body.
Before my lips met his, my head was wrenched back.
“Now this is a show.” The Din knelt behind me with my hair wrapped around one fist and my throat trapped in another.
Ivory eyed Phin with something close to glee. “Fascinating. He’s not dying like the snake-eater.”
I dipped my eyes as far as I could considering the man sized collar I was wearing.
He was right, Phin contorted with obvious pain but it didn’t appear he was going to combust like Moth or Vaughn. The nekroite bonds fell away as piece by piece my magic rendered them to ash.
The Din yanked my hair pulling my eyes off Phin’s suffering. Senevia kicked Grakel’s robes aside and stood over me where we knelt. “Veda.”
Did I say I hated the way Bay said my name? Cause the way she spit it out? It had to taste like ass.
“Step-monster.” I flicked my gaze to Phin whose claws and fangs had elongated. Ivory ran his blade down Phin’s arms watching as the wounds closed in a flow of fire. “Are you sure you want to war with the Daenali?”
She swept her skirt aside and stepped closer. “By the time we’re done with you it will be us who rule those dogs.”
“Rule them?” My skepticism wasn’t subtle. “Bay would eat his own heart before he bowed to you.” He’d eat hers first but I kept that part to myself.
“We have the Din,” her smirk was dangerous, “we have you,” she pulled a small wooden matchbox from her pocket, “and soon we’ll have whatever it is that made Sailas camouflage you in insignificance.”
I pulled against the hand at my throat and felt my hair tear as Top Hat twisted his fist. “You shit-sucking ass-goblin.”
He laughed jovially. “Colorful but you may call me Denny, love.”
Denny. I had been assaulted, kidnapped, and effectively dominated by a Din named Denny. Denny the Din. This was demoralizing as fuck.
Senevia slid the lid off the tiny box and pinched something delicately between her fingers. As she lifted it from the box, I saw small spindly legs move and I froze where I was pressed against Denny. Spindly hooked shaped legs that should not exist.
“How did you get that? Sailas destroyed them all. Personally.”
“Only you think Sailas is omnipotent. Of course, he thought he destroyed them and with our blessing. Who’d want the nasty little things hanging around? Can you imagine?”
Reaping beetles were rarer than the Din and more deadly. As far as I knew no one knew for sure where they came from but they ravished an already bloody war.
They were drawn to power, defensive, offensive, dormant, or active and would infiltrate the host to consume it. It was agonizing and irreversible. Sailas destroyed them after they’d been used to torture and execute someone during the war.
Denny arched my neck painfully as Senevia tired to squeeze my mouth open. I locked my jaw trying to move my head away when Ivory stepped around his mother and punched me square in the face.
My nose broke and I choked on the blood that filled my mouth. My body coughed reflexively as she shoved her hand over my mouth.
The first hook penetrated the roof of my mouth and I shrieked. Denny forced me still for her to stare into my eyes. All six legs hooked into the back of my throat and it forced its way further into my body. Tears burned my eyes while my oxygen deprived lungs screamed.
My glowing orb exploded in my belly driven by my panic but I embraced it. I’d rather burn them all alive than endure this.
“Ah ah ah, love. None of that.” Denny put his lips to my ear.
If a reaping beetle weren’t violating my chest cavity, I’d have seriously taken issue with the low-key heavy breathing he was doing in my ear.
Then he whistled softly and I felt my eardrums shattered from the sound that pierced them. The pain was so agonizing I felt my heart stop. My energy stuttered and fell apart pouring gently back into the pit it rose from. I found that place now. It looked like the lake at Callio or may be that just my subconscious at work.
Consciousness slipped away as my mind dove into that pit. Help me, Sailas.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Veda
A voice crooned softly to me sliding gently into my mind while I floated gently in darkness. Pain nicked my stomach, a scratching that burned here and there. I shifted against the feeling and my shoulders screamed. I tried to move them to alleviate the raw ache that penetrated my bones when the voice shushed me.
“Easy, Veda, you’ll hurt yourself worse.”
That pain sliced through my insides again and I gasped. My head lifted and the crack of my neck told me it had been hanging for some time.
I gritted my teeth against the nausea that swirled with the pain in my belly and forced my eyes open against the stinging of sweat. Everything was a blur but I could smell the blood, feel my clothes stuck to my skin from it. Blinking, the form in front of me took shape and relief was sharp making me sag against my restraints.
“Phin.”
He smiled grimly. “Dhara.”
“What’s happening?”
“They’re going to kill you.”
Sounded right.
“What do you remember, Veda?”
I lifted my head and tried to think through the sharp digging under my ribs.
“The Din attacked us,” I closed my eyes to sift through my memories, “They’re working with the step-crazies.” I licked my lips. “You were tied with nekroite.”
My eyes popped open and ran over what I could see of his body. No blackened veins indicated he was okay.
“You saved me.”
And he sounded cranky about it.
“You say that like you’d rather I didn’t.”
He sighed. “You should have run, Veda.” His eyes were heartbroken as they took me in and it was his sorrow that triggered th
e last memory in place. The tearing in my stomach.
“She shoved a reaping beetle inside me.”
“More than one.”
Well, that certainly explained my tummy ache. “How am I not dead?”
He chuckled softly. “I don’t know, dhara. You seem to be the exception to many rules.”
I was kneeling again, fucking Ivory, only this time my arms were pulled open behind me. A closer look revealed a panel of glass between me and Phin. I was in some kind of cage.
As I turned my head to take it in, I realized my wrists were cuffed to the sides. I only fit because I was on my knees. Phin shifted closer until his chain ran out of slack. He was still a couple of feet from the glass.
“Do I want to know why I’m in a cage?”
Phin leaned as close as his chains would allow. I guess since my magic had burned through the nekroite they’d decided to go medieval with his restraints.
“The reaping beetles they put in you weren’t enough. Ivory and Senevia plan to fill the cage with them,” he said softly.
“With me in it.”
He nodded. “The Din stopped them but I don’t know for how long.”
“So, they’ll assault and kidnap me but draw the line at my torture and eventual death?”
Always good to have boundaries, I guess.
“If I had to pick something scarier than the Din it would be reaping beetles. The Din seemed fine until they brought in the barrels. They haven’t forgotten and I don’t think they’ll stick around for the grand finale. If they leave, we have a shot.”
Barrels?
I craned my head around stopping when my eyes landed on two large metal barrels. The scritch-scratch was barely discernible to my heightened hearing. They were filled with reaping beetles. Hundreds of them. They were going to pour them in the cage with me.
This had been done once before during the Bloody Days. Before the White Light had risen as the leading Timorii faction, they’d been the Order of Timorii. They’d ruled when there had been but one territory but a mixture of arrogance and apathy ran the inevitable course to rebellion.
