by Tenaya Jayne
After all of the servants had left to relax or go off to sleep, he waited. Vladien arrived promptly a few minutes after midnight, his white-blond head shrouded in a hood. They silently acknowledged each other, and Dracula led him to an empty storeroom. Vladien pulled his hood back, and the traces of grief pulled across his face.
"I'm sorry for your loss," Dracula said bracingly. "Lorcan was an exceptional young man."
Vladien's mouth turned into a thin line, and he nodded, looking down. "You think you know where Leith is?"
"I think so. I'm almost sure of it."
The light of desperation shone in Vladien's eyes.
Dracula placed a hand on his shoulder. "There is an obstacle. He's being guarded."
"One or two ogres are no problem."
"It's not just that. Leith was put under arrest by Rahaxeris himself. I saw it with my own eyes. And I'll be a werewolf if that Rune-dy didn't have something personal against him. So, I'd bet there's more than just one ogre holding him there."
Vladien's eyes slid out of focus. "I have an idea. But I need your help. We might need a few others as well. Are you in or out?"
****
Merhl leaned against the wall, his mind drifting, imagining faraway lands. His hands throbbed painfully. He was quite sure he was the only one in the castle who was looking forward to Rahaxeris' return. He needed something to do other than guard this infernal door.
Goosebumps on the back of his neck pulled him from his reverie, two seconds before the commotion landed at his feet.
"Open the door, ogre! Open it now, or I'll kill him!"
Merhl blinked in shock. Two vampires he knew now faced him. Vladien held Dracula from behind, a long blade to his throat. Both vampires looked crazed—Vladien with desperation and Dracula with fear. Merhl had heard about Lorcan's death and understood Vladien was capable of anything. For one second, one long agonizing second, Merhl hesitated. He had pledged allegiance to Rahaxeris. But protecting the lives of vampires was in his nature, and if Dracula died because of him, his life would be forfeit as well.
"Open it now!" Vladien shouted again, cutting a small line on Dracula's neck.
Merhl turned to the door, breaking the magic he put in place. The hilt of Vladien's dagger came down sharply on the back of his head, sending him to the floor.
****
"Damn it, you didn't have to really cut me," Dracula complained as Vladien kicked in the door to Leith's cell.
Vladien grabbed Leith and threw him over his shoulder before charging back out. "Let's go!" he growled at Dracula.
"I'm not going with you, fool. How would that look? Take the door on the right at the end. Sharpe will have cleared the side exit of anyone by now. You should have a straight shot if you go now."
Vladien nodded quickly and charged off down the dark hallway, Leith hanging over his shoulder like a rag doll.
Dracula roughed up his hair, smeared some of the blood from the little cut on his neck onto his face, and laid down next to Merhl as though he too had been knocked out, and waited for the ogre to wake up or someone else to stumble over them and raise the alarm.
Chapter Twenty-one
Forest tried to wake Netriet the next morning to no avail. She checked her vital signs. She seemed healthy enough. She shook her roughly, pinched her arm—nothing roused her. So Forest picked her up, carted her into the spare bedroom, and tucked her in the bed. Netriet seemed so unstable, Forest thought it best to stay close, so she didn't wake up alone.
Netriet didn't budge for two days.
Forest occupied herself with cleaning, gardening, organizing her basement, and packing a large bag of stuff for Tek. She was overly generous with the earthly goods she packed reminding herself that she hadn't restocked him in quite a while, and since the portals were shut none of her competitors would have much if anything to offer.
Her thoughts were so muddy and her emotions so up and down, she wasn't sure if she'd had any moments of clarity or not. She dreamed of Syrus at night and woke up with tears soaking the pillow. The pain of not being together was not the insanity she'd suffered when she'd been banished. Perhaps it wasn't so acute because they were both in Regia and not separated by galaxies. But still, her heart twisted and tore. Her pride kept her from running to him, and she assumed his pride kept him from doing the same.
Forest went back into her basement to get the last of the old magazines for the package for Tek. When she came back up, Netriet was sitting calmly on the couch.
"Hello."
"I'm glad you're finally awake. I was getting worried."
"How long was I out?"
"Almost three days. I didn't know a vampire could sleep that long."
Netriet picked absently at her empty sleeve. "I've been traveling for a long time, never feeling quite safe enough to really sleep…I feel much better. I'll get myself together and be out of your way as soon as I can."
"You don't have to rush. Are you planning to go back to Halussis?"
"Since I woke up, after not dying, I've thought about going home. But every time I think about it seriously, I know I can't go back. Not like this. I wouldn't be…treated well."
"But you killed Philippe, didn't you?"
Netriet nodded dismissively.
"You're a hero to your people."
"No. They wouldn't treat me like that. I'm a convict, with a death sentence. And they'd look at me and see nothing but that I'd been tainted by a wolf."
Forest sat down across from Netriet. "Please tell me everything that happened to you."
Netriet laughed humorlessly. "Why should I?"
"Because maybe I can help you."
Netriet eyed Forest with speculation. "You've been kind to me…If I was going to trust anyone, I guess it should be you. Where should I start?"
"Start with your crime."
Netriet leaned back on the couch. "All right. I'll tell you everything I can remember. You'll have to forgive me the rest."
Forest listened, amazed at what she learned and frustrated by what Netriet couldn't remember. She looked at Netriet's empty sleeve when she recounted the torture she'd suffered at Philippe's hand, and shivered as she remembered what it had been like to wear the collar. She was not only thankful to still be alive, but that she still had both arms.
When Netriet told her about the transparent being that saved her life, Forest bit down on her tongue. The hateful glint in Netriet's eyes stopped her from saying anything at all about Shi.
"I suppose whatever it was that saved my life meant well, but the cost…" Netriet shuddered. "The cost is too high. I would have preferred to die."
She finished her tale by recounting the places and people she'd encountered from the Wolf's Wood down to Forest's garden gate.
"So, how do you think you can help me?" Netriet asked snidely. "You, a Halfling, who lives like an outcast?"
Forest laughed a little and then she laughed harder, until tears of mirth were rolling down her cheeks. "Yes, an outcast Halfling. That used to be me, but I know people." She chortled. "I've got friends in high places, hell, I'm in high places."
Netriet's look of incredulity sobered Forest a little. "I'm Zeren's adopted daughter."
Netriet snorted. "The hell you are. You're even crazier than me."
Forest chuckled again and shook her head. "And that's small beans compared to who my real father is…I think it's time I tell you my story. I'm going to get us some tea. This could take a while. If you're willing to hear it, I'd like to tell you the whole thing. You're the first person I've wanted to tell it to, and I think maybe you hearing it could help me."
"What do you mean the whole thing?" Netriet asked as Forest went to the kitchen.
"I mean the whole thing, starting with how I came to be alive."
"Well, hell," Netriet took a deep sigh. "I guess I owe you for lodging. All right I'll listen to you, crazy woman."
Forest told Netriet everything. Everything about Leith, her father, her childhood- omitting her relat
ionship with Shi, and her past illegal activities. When she came to the part of her story where she took the mission to protect Syrus, she threw caution to the wind and told her exactly whom she was protecting. Despite her initial grumblings, Netriet's attention wrapped around Forest's every word.
"…So now, he's hurting, and I'm hurting. I can't stomach the idea of being the queen and I just don't know what to do. But the longer I hesitate, the worse it is for the people. I know everyone is waiting for something to make sense again in Regia, and I feel like the whole damn thing rests on my shoulders."
Netriet heaved a deep sigh. "Are you sure you want to know what I think?"
"Yes," Forest said desperately.
"You're an idiot. A great bumbling idiot. I'd kick your ass, if I could, for being so stupid."
Forest gaped at Netriet.
"Whole worlds do not rest on one person's shoulders. If that were true, you'd have been forced into a position long before now, and there wouldn't be a darn thing you could do about it. But as it is, there are three, three very powerful men who have stepped back and told you to figure out what you want. Yet, here you sit, whining that you don't know!
"You made it plain, in what you told me of your life, that you always wanted to have an influence for good. You've been kicked around, and you want to stand up for other's who are kicked around. Am I right?"
"Yes. Exactly. When I worked for Fortress, it was my dream to one day become a council member. To represent those who were not represented. But I knew it would never happen."
"Wake up," Netriet said sharply. "Why won't you take the position your father offers you?"
Forest stood up and paced the room. "Because I didn't earn it!" she fired back. "I don't want to be given anything. It's weak."
"Oh, waaa. All of us have to take what we’re given and use it. Syrus is the prince. He didn't earn that. Is he weak?"
"No," Forest said slowly.
"Look, Forest, I think you're pretty awesome."
Forest snorted and rolled her eyes.
"No, really," Netriet pressed. "You're an amazing person. You're just an ingrate."
Forest stopped pacing and stared at Netriet. The word ingrate caught her sideways.
"You've had a bum deal, I'll admit it. And it's gotten to your head. You've been handed the job of your dreams, and you spit on it. You've been given respect and position, and you act like a guttersnipe. And you've got Syrus! Jeez, Syrus! And you hurt him and send him away. More than a few other women would be happy to swoop in and comfort him, myself included. But he's yours, forever, without question, because he's your destined life mate. He'll never love anyone but you. Why do you reject it?"
Forest sank back onto the chair, her head in her hands. "I don't know…I don't know."
"Yes, you do," Netriet insisted.
Forest's head shot up. "I don't deserve him."
"Says who? Did Syrus say that?"
"No."
"You've got to kill Leith as soon as possible."
Forest looked away. Netriet watched her closely as she stood up and paced again.
"Wow," Netriet said slowly, "There's something really twisted in your head isn't there?"
"Yes," Forest whispered. "When Leith picked me, despite the brutality, and the hate, a part of me felt like he had honored me."
Netriet rushed at Forest and cracked a vicious slap across her face before she could react. Her handprint glowed on Forest's cheek. She didn't attack or fight back in any way. Forest pressed a hand to her throbbing face for a moment before pulling Netriet into a tight hug.
"Thanks. I needed that," Forest said earnestly.
"You surely did."
Forest released Netriet and rushed to her bedroom. "I've got to go," she said, grabbing an empty duffle bag from her closet and filling it with a few days' clothes.
Ten minutes later Forest stood at her front door, strapping on her sword and stuffing the Hailemarris amulet in her pocket. "You're welcome to stay here as long as you need to, Netriet. You'll be perfectly safe."
"Thanks," Netriet said. "I appreciate it. Now go, and good luck to you."
****
Netriet sat quietly after Forest left, thinking about her. She considered her a friend, but the nice feelings she harbored began to get pushed to the back as the shadow came crawling out. A surge of jealousy rocked through her. Forest was beautiful, more beautiful then she had been before Philippe got a hold of her. She had power, a rising position, and love. Mordant jealousy coated Netriet's insides as she thought of Syrus.
Netriet had mourned him terribly when she learned he was dead. The memory of the first time she'd ever laid eyes on Syrus swam in her mind. When she was barely more than a girl, Syrus had looked at her and smiled and that was all she needed. All throughout her adolescence, her heart was lost to Syrus as she served Christiana.
Yes! The shadow hissed. You hate her. She's stolen something from you.
"No. She's my friend," Netriet said aloud.
You have no friends but me. I'm your only friend. She's the one who ruined your happiness. Stole it. The happiness that should be ours. Syrus should be ours.
Netriet shook her head, wishing she could stop her ears to the shadow.
We should leave, but not before you steal from her. Break her precious little house to bits. Steal her beloved possessions.
Tears ran down Netriet's cheeks. The jealousy was real, and the shadow would continue to plague her if she stayed. With a heavy heart and bitterness blackening her mind, Netriet put her dirty clothes back on and left Forest's house before she did something she regretted.
She looked back at Forest's rock wall as she left. The trees reached out to her like the twisted arms of demon lovers. She thought about the people she'd met at the fair. They were too nice for her. If she went there, she'd hurt them. No, the wild was better.
She walked northeast for a quarter mile before coming to a sudden cliff. The ground in front of her dropped straight down to jagged rocks below. The thought to jump came to her mind, but the shadow quickly shoved her back from the edge. She walked away, accepting the nasty truth that she would survive a long time. The darkness within had too strong a will to live.
****
Syrus sat in deep mediation in the center of the sparing arena. Ithiel was doing everything in his power, short of physical harm, to break his concentration. Ithiel's attempts weren’t even close to scratching the surface. Syrus rolled in the depths of his subconscious, journeying further in. The sorrow surrounding Forest aside, he had never felt happier. Everything inside him clicked into place in the Obsidian Mountain. It was where he belonged. Training the new masters was the work he was meant for.
He pulled back from mediation as his heart gave a little shiver.
He opened his blurry eyes to see both Guyas and Taurus, the newbie mages, standing in front of him, practically bouncing on their toes, with silly grins on their faces. Syrus said his revised incantation once under his breath, strengthening his sight.
He quirked an eyebrow. "What?"
"You've got a visitor, sir," Guyas said.
"Waiting in your apartment, sir," Taurus added.
Syrus stood and brushed past them, glancing once over his shoulder at Ithiel, who also had a silly grin on his face. The shiver continued as Syrus climbed the stairs to his room.
She had her back to him, looking out the window. Syrus closed his eyelids and said his incantation a few more times under his breath, so she couldn't hear. He kept his eyes shut as she turned to face him.
The pain and anger stood in the room between them like another person. Her heart spoke remorse and apology to his, but no words were uttered. The bond trembled and pulled at them. Syrus didn't move when she took a tentative step toward him. His face remained closed with anger.
Forest watched him warily as she took another step closer. A muscle in his jaw tightened. It seemed as though she hadn't looked at him in years, and she realized clearly that she had never seen a more beau
tiful man. Angry or not, she wanted to touch him, to press her lips to his skin, to lay her head on his strong chest and be wrapped in his arms.
Absorbing her release of pheromones, the anger in Syrus' face shifted to a bemused curiosity. The corner of his mouth turned up, and he opened his eyes. She gasped at the one-two punch to her head and heart at the eye contact. He reached out and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her roughly against him.
Relief and pleasure flooded through her at his touch.
For a long time, they just stood there, silently holding on to each other. When she pressed a kiss on his collarbone, he pulled back and looked in her eyes again. "I'm angry still," he said.
"Forgive me."
He sighed. "I will, just not today."
Forest looked down at the floor, dejected. She lifted her hair off one shoulder and pressed back against him. Tilting her head, offering him her neck.
He stiffened. "No." He pushed away from her. "I'm too angry. I'd hurt you."
Syrus threw his hands up at her sad, wide-eyed expression. "Well I'm not made of stone," he said exasperated.
"I just came here to tell you that I love you, and I'm sorry. I stopped here on my way to Kyhael."
"Kyhael?"
"Yes. I'm going to see my father and accept my birthright. Unless you don't approve. I intend to become Hailemarris."
It had been too long since Forest had seen Syrus' childlike smile and it shone on her now like the sunlight. He caught her hand in his and kissed it. "That's good. I'm happy you've decided. I think it's the right choice for you."
"And what about you?"
"I'm figuring it out. Things are more clear for me here, on the mountain."
"They are?"
He smirked. "Everything except you. Troublesome little addiction that you are."
"I'm sorry."
"Sure you are," he said sarcastically.
To her great relief, Syrus reached for her again and kissed her mouth without holding back. She melted and strained against him, pushing his cloak off his shoulders. Her hands running down his arms and over the planes of his back teased out shivers on his skin.
