The Legends of Regia Box Set: The Complete Series. Books 1-7

by Tenaya Jayne

  King Zeren dressed plainly and discreetly in a black hooded cloak. What amazed Kindel was that he was completely alone. There wasn’t even a single guard standing outside. Secrecy was all well and good, but the king was being downright reckless.

  “What have you learned?” Zeren asked without preamble.

  “Our suspicions have mostly led me to more suspicions, my King. There is a mole within Fortress though I have yet to learn their identity. But they are a large spider and have been threading Fortress with their web for a long time. I catch tail ends of web and then it turns to smoke in my hands.”

  Zeren sighed. “Is there anything that you can tell me for sure?”

  Kindel began to shake ever so slightly. He took a deep steadying breath before plunging ahead. “The hit on Syrus five years ago was not contracted by Philippe.”

  “What?” In the dim light Kindel could see the king’s jaw clench.

  “No, my King. The hit was contracted by a member of the Rune-dy.”

  Zeren looked like he’d been slapped in the face. But the shock quickly gave way to rage.

  “I don’t yet know if the Rune-dy as a whole is responsible. It may have been a rogue action.”

  Zeren’s flashing eyes stared deep into the fire. “This gives me much to think on,” he whispered, and without another, word he turned on his heels and left.

  Chapter 13

  Kitch had gone past his patrol boundaries, venturing out until the dim light of Kyhael was only a speck in the distance. His mind wandered in the darkness. Patrol was a terrible, boring nuisance. Nothing ever happened in his area or time block. No one traveled through the area at this time of night. It was protocol that he remained invisible for the duration of his watch. He didn’t mind that, it made it easier to imagine he was somewhere else. Kitch knew the area backward and forward; the ground, the sounds, and the scents were familiar. So when an out of place scent flew up his nose, he had to stop and smell carefully before allowing himself to be shocked and confused.

  ****

  Forest held her head in her hands, her embarrassment refusing to go away. Syrus lay sleeping next to her. She couldn't believe that she had jumped on him and burned his neck. She also had the awful feeling of exposure, knowing that she had been dreaming about Leith and maybe she had mumbled something in her sleep. She hoped desperately if Syrus heard anything it was unintelligible.

  Forest groaned. She was suffering from such a backward emotion she felt stupid once she recognized it. She didn’t want Syrus to know about Leith for many reasons, but mostly because it felt like she was cheating. The stupid part was that she felt she was cheating on Syrus with Leith instead of cheating on Leith with Syrus. Preoccupied by her thoughts and feelings, Forest didn’t sense the presence looming in the distance.

  She gasped as Syrus sat upright like someone had stabbed him with a cattle prod.

  “What is it?”

  “Stay here,” he ordered and bolted off into the darkness before she could say another word.

  Being invisible didn’t hide Kitch from Syrus. Kitch smelled the vampire, but he was more than a little taken aback to see him charging at him through the dark. Syrus skidded to a halt in front of Kitch, both his swords drawn.

  “I know exactly where you are, elf,” Syrus said in a deadly tone. “If I kill you while you’re invisible, do you think anyone will ever find you?”

  Kitch took a step back, wanting to put more distance between him and this deranged vamp. “Whoa! Let’s calm down! I’m just on patrol. It’s my job to intercept any travelers in this area and question them. Please lower your weapons. In case you didn’t know, our peoples are allied.”

  Kitch exhaled as Syrus lowered his swords to his sides. He surveyed him carefully. He was certainly dressed strangely and the crop of his hair would suggest that he was a servant, or even a slave. He emanated a powerful aura that caused Kitch’s suspicion to percolate, but he knew that just because someone might have no social standing didn’t mean they lacked in strength of spirit. Kitch judged that Syrus was of no importance and should be allowed to go on his way. But he was bored and decided to question him thoroughly. “All right.” Kitch tried his best to sound authoritative. “What’s your story? Why are you traveling through this area with two companions?”

  Syrus crumpled his brow. “I have only one companion.”

  “I’m in no mood to play. I can smell them. You left an elf and a shifter behind.”

  Syrus smiled at him. “No. There’s nothing wrong with your nose, but what you are smelling is a Halfling. Half elf, half shifter.”

  “Really?” Kitch was angry with himself for sounding so juvenile and eager. He tried to pull his voice back to stern. “Okay. Why are the two of you out here and where are you going?”

  “Ahh…” This was the moment that they needed a cover story for, and they didn’t have one. Forest had talked about coming up with one, but that was all that had been said on the subject. Syrus decided he would go with whatever popped into his head. “Well, we are running away. Our families will never accept us and starting over in a new place is the only way we can be happy.”

  “What are you talking about?” Kitch ordered.

  “She’s my life mate.”

  “Oh…yes, I see how that would be a problem.”

  Forest, who was listening to their conversation, felt like she was now the one who was stuck with the cattle prod. Did he know, or was that the only lie he could think of on the spot? Either answer made her stomach twist.

  “So were you going to try to settle in Kyhael?” Kitch asked.

  “No. We really don’t know where we’ll end up. We just want to avoid the fighting.”

  “You ought to take refuge in Kyhael. All elves have citizenship. You said your life mate is half elf?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Syrus said.

  “Call to her. I want to see her… I mean meet her.”

  Forest was about to move out from her sheltered spot so the invisible elf could eye her when Syrus’ voice took on a diamond hard edge, freezing her in her tracks.

  “You want to see her, eh? Goggle the freak, is it? Make her feel bad about herself and who she is? You’ve never seen a Halfling before I bet, and now you just have to get a good look. Well, you and your insensitive ignorance can go climb up a slimy tube.”

  He was so forceful, Kitch took another step back. “All right, all right. I’m sorry. I’m curious, I admit it. And you’re protective of your mate, I get it. My apologies. It must be very hard for you to deal with.”

  “You have no idea how hard it is to be the mate of the most beautiful creature that ever lived. I constantly have to fight others who want her for themselves. You’d probably be no different than the rest of them.”

  Kitch was at a loss for words. This vampire was clearly unstable. He didn’t like emotionality. He would be within his rights to kill him, but he disliked fighting emotional people and this jealous, angry, lovesick vampire on the run was a knot better left untied. Kitch began moving away. “May you fare well in your travels,” Kitch said, not taking his eyes off the vampire.

  Syrus stood still until the elf had gone a good distance. He sheathed his swords and made his way back to Forest. The elf was still looming in the distance, watching from afar. Syrus knew his performance was not yet over, and he could trust Forest to mess everything up by sniping at him or threatening to hack him to pieces.

  He could feel the tension radiating off her body as he approached her. Before she could do or say anything, Syrus grabbed her, hauling her up onto her toes, and planted a thorough kiss on her mouth. She was clearly shocked for a second before she caught on and relaxed against him. Then she seemed to explode.

  Forest climbed Syrus like a tree and attempted to eat him alive. He almost toppled under the weight of her passion. All of his thoughts of putting on a little show for the elf were now nonexistent. There were no thoughts in his head, only a desperate feeling that begged to be realized and validated. He clun
g to her with the full strength of his life force, attempting to absorb her. She pulled him along in the smoldering darkness, consuming him from within. Everything inside him rolled and purred luxuriantly… then she yanked away and jumped down. She may as well have doused him with cold water as she had days before when he’d asked to drink from her.

  Syrus stood stone still, waiting for his senses to stop spinning, while she efficiently packed everything up. She thrust his backpack into his chest, and he shrugged it on grudgingly. No one had ever made him feel the way Forest did. He wanted her so much the desire was turning him into an idiot. He wanted to kick things and pitch a fit like a toddler who was denied what he wanted.

  “Let’s go,” she said and began walking.

  Syrus followed a stride behind her with a nagging desire to kick her in the butt. He waited to speak until the elf was too far away to be sensed.

  “What was that?” he demanded.

  “You kissed me for the elf’s benefit, right?” she asked flippantly.

  “I was only trying to lend a little credibility to the lie.”

  “And I was trying to help. I don’t know, do you think I was convincing?” she asked with mock innocence.

  “Oh, I’m sure he bought it.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “Yes, dammit.”

  “That was a really bad thing to happen though,” Forest said seriously. “I hope that elf doesn’t run his mouth when he reports back in.”

  “You’re afraid your father will catch word that a half elf was traveling through the area?”

  “Yes. Exactly that.”

  “Do you plan to live your whole life without ever searching for him?” Syrus asked.

  Forest thought about his question for a while. “I really don’t know.”

  All that morning, Forest tried to remind herself to enjoy this time with Syrus. If they were successful, they would reach the boundary of the Wolf’s Wood that evening. The Wood was vast, and she had no idea how long it would take them to locate the wizard once they were inside. She also knew that they would have to fight for survival there. If they weren’t killed or captured, she had less than a week left with Syrus. She had to make the most of it; it would be over all too soon.

  The “pretend” kiss that morning had all but wrecked Forest. She was still able to resist, but the internal battle of instinct vs. intellect was growing desperate. Her intellect drew straight and harsh boundary lines, while instinct crept behind, blurring them.

  ****

  Kitch was relieved when Forest and Syrus were out of his patrolling area and no longer his concern. He was so used to coming across nothing and no one that the event of meeting such a loony vampire was enough excitement to last him for a long time. But as the sun brought the day, Kitch received an even greater shock.

  He was just getting ready to head home when an entire platoon of vampires tromped into his jurisdiction. His mind raced through all the reasons he could think of why they would be there. Kitch wisely decided to keep still and invisible and let them pass. They moved silently and in perfect formation. Kitch recognized the seal of the Onyx castle on their armor and realized that he had been suckered by the emotional vampire he’d let go. The Vampire and the Halfling were important enough to be pursued by royal troops. He’d screwed up big time. Unless it was a massive coincidence—he doubted that. In the interest of job preservation, Kitch decided that he would report about the vampire and the Halfling and leave out the troops on their heels.

  When Kitch entered Kyhael, he went directly to the office to report in. He cringed as he entered because Susa sat at the front desk. It wasn’t that Susa was overly bad tempered, but she gave Kitch the creeps. She stayed indoors too much, and her skin was a rather unusual and sickly shade of yellow. Her eyes were overly large and red, and she never blinked. But the thing that bothered Kitch the most about her was that she ground her teeth while she filled out reports. The sound always made him envision her gnawing on his bones.

  When he entered, she looked up at him with her unblinking eyes and gave him no expression whatsoever, as though she was nothing more than a lifelike automation. “Reporting in from duty?” she asked in monotone.

  “Yes.”

  She scribbled his name and information quickly with her stylus. “Report?”

  “Ah, well uneventful from dusk till the third hour of morning when I came across a pair of travelers.”

  “Race?”

  “The race of the travelers?” he asked stupidly.

  “No, footrace. Want to have one later?”

  “Huh?”

  She sighed. “Racial background of the travelers?”

  “Oh, well, one of them was a vampire and the other was a Halfling.”

  She stopped her scribbling and looked up at him. He shuffled his feet and looked at anything but her.

  “Why didn’t you bring them to the city in custody?” she demanded.

  “They didn’t seem very important. He was a servant; they were just running away from family members that wouldn’t accept them as life mates.”

  “I see. What was the Halfling?” she asked.

  “Uhh… I think if I remember correctly, she was half shifter and half…elf…yeah that was it.”

  For the first time that he’d ever witnessed, Susa blinked. She stood up abruptly and snatched the paper she’d been writing on. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move! You hear me? Don’t move!”

  “All right. All right.”

  Kitch waited, a cold dread sweeping over him like a fever. Susa wasn’t gone long. When she came back, she had Prefect Camber on her heel. Kitch swallowed loudly, swearing elegantly in his head. Camber was a high profile gofer, the Rune-dy’s go-to-guy. He smiled at Kitch in his official I’m trying to put you at ease smile. Kitch wasn’t comforted.

  Camber walked over and placed his hand on Kitch’s shoulder as though they were good friends. “Kitch, so good to see you! How’s everything at home?”

  Kitch found it hard to un-stick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “Uhh. Fine. Just fine.”

  Camber slapped him companionably on the arm. “Good. Good man. So, I’m going to need you to come with me. Nothing to worry about, I assure you, just routine.”

  Routine, my ass, Kitch thought. He had no option but to do as Camber bid. He followed him past Susa’s desk and through a long hallway with many open doorways leading off to offices dedicated to the menial jobs and workers. He had interviewed in one of those rooms, but he had never been deeper than this level. Camber led him through a narrow passage that began to snake downward. The Belliss stone walls and floor gave off enough light to make the passage feel warm and safe, an incongruity, because Kitch knew that just being in this tunnel was the opposite of warm and safe. He began to feel dizzy as the tunnel continued to spiral downwards. They must be very deep under the city, but the light was getting brighter. Yet again, the light did not comfort him. They were drawing close to their destination. Hair standing on end, cold sweats, and dangerously close to losing the contents of his stomach, he followed until the passage birthed him into the antechamber of the Rune-dy’s council room.

  Camber turned and gave him an intense look. “Wait right here. I’ll be right back.”

  Kitch nodded, unable to unclench his teeth.

  The wall in front of them curved out like a huge bowl. A small circle of light shone through the stone, and Camber placed his palm directly over it. The circle began to grow, quickly becoming larger than Camber. Kitch’s mouth fell open as Camber walked right through the stone in the beam of light. He hoped whomever he had to talk to would come out and that he wouldn’t have to walk through the stone. The light shrank back to its original.

  Camber had said he would be right back, but it seemed to take him ages. Kitch worked to keep his breathing steady. He hadn’t done anything wrong. No one had told him to apprehend any Halflings he might come across. The failure lay with someone else. He was ignorant. The Rune-dy couldn’t punish
him for ignorance. Why did they care about Halflings anyway? Did they want to begin experimenting on them? Kitch shivered as he imagined what the Rune-dy might do in such an experiment.

  “Kitch!” Camber had returned, his voice pulling Kitch from his reverie. “You can go in now. For your own sake, I recommend you answer his questions succinctly and say nothing else. Don’t babble or elaborate and don’t even contemplate lying. Stand at an appropriate distance and don’t fidget. And for goodness sake, close your mouth.”

  Camber placed his hand on the light again and stepped back as it began to grow. Kitch made no move to go through once the light was large enough. Camber got behind him and began pushing.

  “Wait! Who am I seeing?”

  Camber pushed harder and on a grunt said, “Rahaxeris,” as Kitch was forced through.

  The domed chamber was awash with warm golden light. Circular skylights dropped pools of sunlight on the floor. Kitch stood directly underneath one and looked up into it. They were so far under the city that the sunlight had to travel down a long straight tunnel to reach them. If he squinted, he could see the sky at the end. He was terrified, but the light of the Belliss stone coupled with the sunlight made him feel peaceful, as if it held him in a loving embrace.

  Seven stone chairs curved around the wall in front of Kitch. All were empty, except one. Rahaxeris sat in the tallest chair in the center of the others. Kitch froze like a small animal in the hypnotic gaze of a snake. Rahaxeris looked as though he too was carved of Belliss stone. His skin was the same alabaster color as everything in the room. His eyes were a golden hue, and his blonde hair hung straight down behind his shoulders and looked soft, a stark contrast to the sharpness of his face. Of all the races of Regia, Elves had the most angular features, but none more than Rahaxeris. Everything about him—his face, his hands, his eyes, his voice—were all deadly sharp, as though he had been born for the singular purpose of inflicting pain.