by Tenaya Jayne
"Um, the ad said reasonable rates. What does that mean? Could you give me a ballpark figure?"
Before Forest could answer, she heard the other girl in the background suggest they forget this and just call the cops.
"I told you, Leith warned me about calling the cops. I don’t think you—"
"Hey!" Forest half yelled into the phone.
"Yeah?"
"Your vampire’s name is Leith?"
"Yeah, at least that’s what he said it was. Why?"
"I’ll do the job for free," Forest said quickly. "Just give me the address. He’ll be gone within the hour."
"Um, okay. Why?"
"Let’s just say I’ve got a slight grudge against him."
Chapter Three
Kyhael, Regia
Zefyre twisted the pages of her report into a tight scroll as she walked into the Rune-dy's main meeting room, knowing it may be the last time she set foot there. She couldn't imagine any way this meeting could result in anything good for her. She'd taken the fact that her brother, Rahaxeris, was the high priest for granted and given herself too great a license. Icy fear sluiced down her back as her eyes fell on her brother sitting stone still across the room. Zefyre squared her shoulders, forcing herself forward to hand him her report.
Rahaxeris' face remained impassive as he read Zefyre’s report, but his hands shook infinitesimally on the edge of the parchment. This almost imperceptible loss of control sent a sharp wave of terror through Zefyre. She had to fight the urge to stammer out apologies and excuses.
"Tell me, Zefyre, are you laboring under your own vision of the future?"
"No, sir."
He looked at her over the edge of the paper. "You never reported to me that you were sending Philippe sacrificial messengers."
"Well…I…"
Rahaxeris lifted his index finger to silence her and looked back down at the parchment. "I see what you were doing, and I might have sanctioned it, but you went around me. And you obviously chose poorly whom you sent to him."
"Yes, sir. Netriet was a mistake. I never anticipated Philippe would keep her alive, let alone form some aberrant attachment to her."
"A mistake I would not have made."
"Yes, sir."
"And now look at the high price of your mistake. Philippe is dead and confusion is rampant through the ranks of the werewolves. Dissention and argument over who is the new pack leader, and while they scrabble, Zeren is stomping them into the ground."
Zefyre shuffled her feet and looked at the floor.
"Have you located Netriet yet?"
"No, sir."
Rahaxeris sighed irritably. "You’ve left me no other alternative than to work with Zeren." The parchment in his hands erupted into flames. He held it until it burned down to nothing. "This altering of plans displeases me, Zefyre." He took another long breath. "Now, tell me of my daughter and her mate."
"They both suffer with severe separation sickness. Christiana has imprisoned Syrus inside a portal that goes nowhere. No one can reach him. She sent Redge to the front lines. And while Syrus is caged, and Zeren is away, she is opening special portals and giving vampires the freedom to circumvent traffic controllers. She dumps assassins daily, directly into Forest’s dwelling on Earth."
"And so far Forest has come through unharmed?" he asked.
"Yes, sir."
An undeniable look of pride came onto Rahaxeris’ face. "Are you in touch with her?"
"No, sir. She won’t talk to me. She doesn’t trust me. She communicates only with Kindel. Shall I break Christiana’s banishment and bring her back?"
"No. We need to break Syrus out first. We’ll let him bring her back."
"Forgive me, sir, but how are you going to break Syrus out? Christiana will admit no one into the Onyx Castle."
Rahaxeris gave her a withering look. "Do you think I can’t get past that feeble, usurping hag? I’m going to pay her a little visit and bring her something shiny. She never could refuse a present, and this one shall be her unmaking. Zeren is in the thick of this war, but you shall send him this letter." Rahaxeris smoothed a fresh piece of parchment and began writing.
When he finished, he rolled it, sealed it, and handed it to her. "I don’t care if you get covered in dirt and blood on the way. I want you to put that in Zeren’s hand. You, not a messenger. Do that successfully, and the priests might allow you a little more time to live."
Zefyre bowed. "Yes, sir. Thank you." She turned and walked out of the Rune-dy's upper chamber, tears flowing silently from her eyes. The knowledge that her days were numbered infected her.
****
Once Zefyre was gone, Rahaxeris sat in quiet contemplation. It was time to call a meeting of the priests. The change of his plans would have to be approved by a majority vote. He had to sell the new idea to them. However, selling was a far cry from laying bare the truth. He was the leader, and they were on a need-to-know basis. He thought through the way he would inform them what he wanted without it seeming as though it was his mere desire but what was best for Regia.
He left the main room and walked down a long hallway to his personal chambers. He placed a hand on the circular light beam in the center of the luminous Belliss stone wall until it expanded, creating a doorway large enough for him to enter.
The room would have looked bare to an outsider, like an extra guestroom in an unused part of the house. But as soon as the light closed the stone behind him, Rahaxeris' most secret and vulnerable memories filled the room like a family of ghosts. They emerged from the stone, wispy, transparent, and whispering their damnable truths.
He looked at Forest, the day she was born. As it always did, the love he had for his daughter stung deeply and weighed him down with guilt. Love kept secret, denied. My child. There was nothing tender in this emotion. It had teeth and claws and craved the blood of all who had harmed her.
Leith's face swirled in the haze before him. Rahaxeris' hands and teeth clenched. So long, he had waited to spill his blood. His restraint through the years almost killed him. Leith would pay. Christiana would pay. Both would burn in the fire of his retribution. Soon.
The memories dissipated like steam.
He retrieved the green stone he'd created the day before from its protected place in the wall and slipped it into his robes. He left his chambers and ventured lower underground to the metal stores. Only the best metal would do for the necklace he would make with the stone. Not the best metal that could be found in Regia, but the best metal in any world, anywhere. Moreover, it would be the most beautiful and powerful piece of jewelry he had ever made.
He stepped into the Worlds room and greeted Hezeron, who was bent over the corpse of a strange birdlike creature, focused intently on its dissection. He glanced up swiftly at Rahaxeris and nodded.
"Rahaxeris."
"Hezeron."
"What brings you here?" Hezeron asked.
"Metal and I need a page out of The Book of Worlds."
"Help yourself."
Hezeron asked no questions about Rahaxeris' project. He merely continued to study his specimen in silence, occasionally glancing over at what Rahaxeris was doing. Only after Rahaxeris was finished and held the necklace up to inspect it did Hezeron give him his full attention.
"Superior work, sir. Your choice of Talereneain Firelight Silver does raise my curiosity as to the intended purpose of the piece."
"Why?" Rahaxeris asked calmly, never betraying the worry now crawling inside him.
"It must be important to you to use such a magical and precious metal."
"Not at all. I'm fond of the stone I created, and I thought the Firelight made the most attractive setting."
Hezeron gazed speculatively at the necklace. Rahaxeris slipped it into his pocket. "Its purpose shall be a topic at our next meeting. Now, I need The Book of Worlds."
Hezeron stood from the table and crossed the cavernous room to a wall of shelves. His long fingers caressed the spines of the books as he scanned the titles
. A terrible screaming filled the room, no louder than a whisper. He gave the Soul Jar on the shelf above his head a sharp flick of his finger. The milky glass vibrated, and the screaming stopped.
"What is in there?" Rahaxeris asked gesturing to the jar as Hezeron brought him the heavy tome.
Hezeron smiled. "Oh, that's a rather foul tempered pixie I killed on my last trip to Neverland. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with her."
"Why don't you splice her into that bird-thing you've got there and see what happens?"
Hezeron raised one imperial eyebrow and looked down at the dissected remains. "Hmm… Maybe. So what are you looking for in there?" He pointed at the book.
"A good place to exile someone."
"Ah. Try chapter seven."
Rahaxeris thumbed through the book, until he found the perfect fit for Christiana. He felt killing Christiana was within his right as a father, but he knew torture was better. Being the leader of the Rune-dy, torture was in his nature and he was exceptionally gifted at it. Yet he couldn’t torture Christiana as he would like to; time and circumstances prevented it. Permanent exile would have to suffice.
Rahaxeris tore the chosen page out and set the book carefully aside. He balled the parchment in his fist and closed his eyes. Flames engulfed his hand as he turned the piece of parchment into a trapdoor perfectly tailored for the queen.
Opening his hand, Rahaxeris examined the throbbing red jewel. It wasn’t quite ready. Removing Christiana from the equation wasn’t punishment enough. He pulled a single hair from his head and wound it around the jewel. The blond thread sank inside and took on the appearance of a vein of gold within the stone. He blew gently on the jewel and muttered a few carefully considered elvish words. With loving thoughts of his daughter and a small vindictive smile on his face, Rahaxeris set the red jewel into a simple gold chain. He tucked the necklace in beside the one he made for Forest. It was time to call the meeting.
He strode silently into the lab. Menjel was working and he hated being disturbed when he was in the lab. Rahaxeris wanted to grimace. Menjel looked like a butcher; blood spattered over his sleeves and apron. The excited light of new pain glinted in his ruby eyes. Whomever he had just been experimenting on was gone, leaving their blood on the operating table.
Menjel was making notes furiously on a diagram. "Come here, Rah, and look at this," he said.
Rahaxeris sighed at his use of an abbreviation for his name but said nothing. "What have you done?" He looked over Menjel's shoulder.
"I've created a new way to inject thoughts. My latest test, on an elf, worked perfectly. The injected thought made him believe he itched all over. He began to scratch his skin but the harder he scratched the stronger the itch became. It took roughly an hour, but the test victim tore all of his skin off."
"I see," Rahaxeris said approvingly. "Are you thinking of using this for interrogation or pre-death punishment?"
"Both. However, I cannot recommend it for interrogation until I figure out how to stop the sensation before the victim kills himself. Baal can work on that tomorrow."
"Fine. Clean up. We have a meeting."
"Yes, sir."
****
Rune-dy meetings never lasted very long. None of the priests were verbose. Since there were only seven of them and only two departments, there was hardly ever anything they didn't know about each other's work. Rahaxeris was thankful for their lack of curiosity today.
He sat at the end of the table with the heads of each department, Abshael and Cassian, closest to him. The senior levels, Menjel and Hezeron, were next, and then the assistants, Baal and Plixtz. Being the leader, Rahaxeris presided over every meeting.
He addressed the priests. "New business. Philippe is dead at the hand of an unsanctioned, sacrificial messenger sent by Zefyre."
Muttering erupted around the table.
"She must die!" Cassian said sternly.
Everyone nodded in agreement.
"Yes, yes," Rahaxeris said unconcernedly. "That is of little concern. The real problem is the balance was disrupted by Philippe dying before we intended him to."
"Zeren is weak. We can make him our puppet," Hezeron added.
Rahaxeris smiled inside. Hezeron had handed him the perfect launching point. "Yes, Zeren is weak, but Christiana is not." He pulled the red-jeweled necklace from his robes and placed it on the table where everyone could see. "I want to exile her."
"Why?" Menjel demanded. "She's no obstacle."
"She's been trying to kill Forest."
"Oh, well…" Menjel crossed his arms across his chest. "I thought we all agreed not to interfere with our little pet."
Everyone at the table leaned in a little. All of them had watched Forest's progress since infancy. And they all had voted to allow her to live, even after they had collected all the data they wanted about her gifts. None of the other Halflings that had been created in that experiment were still alive.
"Oh, let him do what he wants to Christiana," Plixtz sounded bored.
"All in favor of exile for Christiana?"
Everyone raised their hands.
"Now, since our original plan has been ruined by Philippe's death, we must adapt. Once Christiana is gone, ripping the kingdom away from Zeren will be easy." Rahaxeris pulled the green-jeweled necklace from his robes and held it up for the priests to see. "I want to create a position of supreme judge for the new republic. A title only for those who cannot be bought or corrupted with power. The title of Hailemarris."
"Who do you have in mind for such a position?" Abshael asked.
"No one yet," he lied.
Chapter Four
A nervous sweat beaded on the face of the young male servant who received Rahaxeris into the entry hall of the Onyx Castle. Rahaxeris doubted the boy knew his actual identity but he obviously recognized him as a priest of the Rune-dy.
"My sincerest apologies, sir," the servant muttered. "It will take me only a moment to inform Her Highness that you are here." He literally ran from the room, his footsteps echoing along after him.
Rahaxeris stood perfectly still while he waited. The security ogres positioned around the room all seemed to hold their breath and stiffen a little more in their stances. Rahaxeris ignored them completely. He couldn’t be bothered to attempt to put others at ease.
He eyed the grandeur of the room’s architecture thoughtfully. In the very recent past, he’d had a mind to tear every stone of the palace apart once the new world order had settled firmly into place. Now that his plans were altered, he consoled himself with the thought his daughter would walk these halls as its mistress.
Running footfalls came sounding back through the hall. Thirty feet from the door, the young man slowed to a walk and emerged into the entry hall with the determined look of false composure. "The Queen will see you now, sir. Please follow me."
When Rahaxeris entered the throne room, an audible gasp communally escaped every handmaiden and servant. Queen Christiana's rigid posture betrayed her obvious effort to appear unshaken, and to her credit almost pulled it off. She sat in Zeren’s throne, so overdressed she resembled a little girl in a costume.
"So, why does the Rune-dy send a priest for an audience with the queen?"
Rahaxeris might have smiled if it weren’t for the fact that he never did unless he wanted to terrify someone. "My Queen, the Rune-dy has not sent me. I am the Rune-dy. I am Rahaxeris."
A louder gasp than before erupted around the room, and the servants closest to the doors exited without permission. The others backed away and huddled in groups against the walls. Christiana glanced at them, a furious expression on her little face.
Rahaxeris held up a hand, and everyone stopped breathing, literally. "What I have come to say to Her Majesty is best said in private. Perhaps you should send your guards and servants away. That one there," he pointed at a shaking handmaiden, "is having heart palpitations and on the verge of passing out."
Christiana raised an eyebrow. "How do you know she is having
palpitations?"
"I can hear it. Now dismiss them so I can speak."
Christiana obeyed, obviously annoyed at having no other choice. When the Ogres made to leave, she stopped them. "Stay right outside the doors."
Once the room was empty and the echo of the closing doors had died, Rahaxeris regarded her silently for a moment. Again to her credit, she didn’t fidget, but all the blood had drained from her face and her muscles began to slacken as his red eyes held her in a tight grip.
"I have come to speak to you of the future and to make a secret alliance."
He felt her heart pick up a little speed, and she clenched her fists. "Go on."
"Zeren is weak. You, my lady, are anything but. Regia is hanging in the balance. Our world needs a strong leader. The right leader. The Rune-dy is willing to support your claim to Zeren’s throne and power."
"I agree." She all but squealed in delight. "Are you going to kill Zeren?"
"In good time, My Queen. First we must seal our contract."
She stood, her skirts spreading out around her. "Fine. What are the terms?"
"The Rune-dy will support your rule throughout Regia and set the punishment for traitors. You shall not interfere in any of our secret rituals or lay down laws preventing our experiments. A couple of priests will take up residence in the Onyx Castle as your personal advisors."
Christiana’s eyes widened and her breath caught audibly. Pleasure glinted in her eyes. He knew she would like the idea of the Rune-dy in the castle.
"Zeren shall fall in battle, allowing the public to easily embrace you in their time of confusion and sorrow."
"Yes, yes that is best," she said.
"We shall complete our contract in the ancient way, with an exchange of tokens."
A frown creased Christiana’s brow. "What token have you brought me?"
Rahaxeris reached into his robes and removed the red-jeweled necklace. He dangled it from his fingers for her to see. A broad smile broke over her face.
"It is not merely a piece of jewelry, my lady. It grants protection and power to the wearer. Having this around your neck, no underlings will ever be able to argue with you."
