Vengeance From The Dark (D'Vaire Book 3)

by Jessamyn Kingley

  “Okay, I’m just going to push your hair over your shoulder and lift your tunic. Tell me when you’re ready,” the warlock said. Edion gulped to swallow all the spit that had collected in his mouth.

  “Ready.” As promised, Edion’s hair was moved and then his shirt was yanked up to his shoulders. A scant few seconds later, it was pulled back down and his long mane was once again hanging down the middle of his back.

  “Did you find anything?” Edion blurted out the question, needing to know if anything Lorcan had said was true. He needed to know if there was any chance he could be this Talfryn Lorcan hated so dearly and wanted dead or if the other elf was just crazy.

  “Yeah, there’s a spell there,” Dra’Kaedan said in a voice barely above a whisper. The concern was evident in his voice, and Edion was once again glad to be surrounded by such people. Without them, he would be curled into a ball and screaming in terror.

  “I want it off,” Edion demanded.

  “I’m not sure how to do that. Blodwen removed mine, but that was before her soul was connected to Gavrael. Let’s go back into the living room and call Chander. If anyone can figure out how to do anything with dark magic, it’s him,” Dra’Kaedan explained. Edion knew that once a necromancer was bound to their assassin, as Blodwen was to her sentinel, that if her life was endangered, Gavrael would have no choice but to act on his well-honed killing instincts. What Edion didn’t know was how removing a spell could trigger the response, but he hoped to understand more of the situation after they got the leader of the Order of Necromancia on the phone.

  Back in the living room, Dra’Kaedan made quick work of explaining what he’d found on Edion’s back. In short order, Arch Lich Chander Daray was on the phone and being apprised of the situation.

  “Just one spell?” Chander asked.

  “Yes,” Dra’Kaedan confirmed.

  “Seems simple enough. I don’t think it will be too difficult to remove. Tomorrow is Saturday; I can be there in the morning to take it off,” Chander offered.

  “Edion, is that okay with you?”

  “The sooner the better. Thank you, Arch Lich.”

  “After all we’ve been through together, I think you can call me Chander,” the Arch Lich replied and despite the harrowing day, Edion found a bubble of happiness bursting through him. The day Edion had met the D’Vaires, the Arch Lich had been with them. Edion considered that the day his life had begun, and it seemed fitting somehow that Chander would now help him through this new chapter where the future was a landmine of possibilities.

  “Okay, Chander.”

  “Great, I’ll see you all then. And the wing thing? No clue. We should probably give Vadimas a call. See if he can come up with any possibilities,” Chander suggested before they all said their good-byes and hung up Dra’Kaedan’s cell phone, which had been on speaker to allow the entire family to chat.

  “Dra’Kaedan, you can give Vadimas a call, but my priority is taking care of Edion. We can worry about what Lorcan might or might not be after this spell is removed,” Aleksander said and Dra’Kaedan nodded in agreement.

  “Besides, Lorcan said I know what he is,” Edion replied.

  “Lorcan can sense dark magic. That’s all we know for sure, Edion. I know you were friendly with him, but he proved he is not trustworthy. We have no idea if he told the truth about you being this Talfryn or what that even means,” Aleksander said.

  “That’s true. I just want to find out who I am and why I have a dark spell on my back,” Edion said before adding, “It’s been a very long day; I think I will retire for the night.” After being wished a good-night from everyone and getting a kiss on the temple from Dra’Kaedan, Edion counted the steps that would take him to his bedroom.

  Once there, Edion opened the door and added up his paces until he arrived at his bed. He sat heavily down on its surface, and a shudder wracked his thin frame. The next day was likely to prove very interesting, and Edion preferred to think about it rather than focus on his run-in with Lorcan. Today had been miserable and so frightening, it was hard for Edion to accept that he truly had been held at knifepoint earlier in the day. He had woken up so assured Lorcan was a friend and that Edion could help him, and now he knew the elf was either crazy or evil or perhaps even both. Edion could not believe he had trusted him.

  His own naiveté aside, Edion was just as surprised to find out he had dark magic carved into his back. It seemed his whole life, he had been surrounded by liars. There was no illness that left him misshapen and blind; it had been a cruel sorcerer. If Chander could remove it, Edion would be sighted by this time tomorrow. That thought forced his face into a smile—it would be so astonishing to see the world around him. It must be filled with such wondrous things, he thought in excitement.

  With sight, he would no longer require the aid of others. For once in his memory, he would be solely independent and perhaps, he thought in self-derision, it would enable him to avoid people such as Lorcan. Of course, if Lorcan were right, he would also gain the name Talfryn. That didn’t put much fear into Edion as he had no real idea who Talfryn was or why he had betrayed Lorcan. He decided he didn’t believe the story Lorcan had told of being mated to Talfryn. Matebonds did not generate malice, only love. Talfryn had Lorcan’s hatred but it would seem so did Edion. Or, he thought, Lorcan would not have preyed upon him and tried to end his life this day. Shaking his head to clear it, Edion wished he could rid himself of his fear so easily. He was unlikely to sleep well, but at least the morning would come with new possibilities and with luck some questions answered.

  Chapter 12

  Arch Lich Chander Daray jumped in his chair as the alarm he set on his cell phone belted out an obnoxious tune. He put his hand to his chest to try and keep his heart from leaping out as he hit the surface of his phone to quiet it. As it had on other occasions when he’d been startled, it burned a bit under his ribs. Being startled by the device was a common occurrence and Chander was just thrilled he had remembered to plug it in as those kinds of details usually slipped right past him.

  It was both small and large particulars that bypassed him: Chander remembered to eat as often as he wore his watch, which was next to never. In fact, Chander doubted he even knew where it was in the messy condo he shared with his sentinels. He was the only necromancer to date to have more than one sentinel, and Chander was clueless as to why Fate had decided he needed two. One week he shared his home with Baxter and the next with Benton. Chander had never summoned the pair together and he doubted he would ever have a need to, and so he switched between them each week.

  He and Baxter were headed to one of his favorite places to go: Court D’Vaire. He visited as often as he could manage, but this time Chander had a singular purpose and that was to remove a terrible spell on Edion’s back. Chander couldn’t wait to get a look; it had occurred to him the night before, after speaking with the D’Vaires, that Carvallius could very well be the one to have tainted Edion.

  Chander had been present when Dra’Kaedan’s silver marks were removed, and he hoped he’d recognize something in it that could positively tell him if it had been left by the same sorcerer. Although Carvallius had died centuries before at Dre’Kariston’s hand, Chander knew the man had ravaged more than one poor soul with his cruelty.

  Yawning, he rose from the chair where Chander had spent his night, as he did most of his nights, with his nose buried in a spell book. Sleep was another one of those things he didn’t bother remembering to do and it was why his eyes, though healed on occasion by druids, still required the spectacles he now pushed up his nose. Looking down, Chander realized he never changed out of his dress shirt and slacks after getting home from Council Headquarters the day before.

  He stripped them off as soon as he shut the bathroom door behind him. Stepping into the small enclosure, he noticed that he had neglected to buy shampoo again. With a shrug, he grabbed the skinny bar of soap and applied it liberally to the top of his curly mop. After getting clean and tugging a comb thr
ough what was truly a shocking number of tangles, Chander padded down the hall in his towel.

  “Forget to bring clothes in with you again?” Baxter asked as he walked out of his bedroom fully dressed in gray with glowing green daggers perched at his sides.

  “Hey, I’m just hoping I have some clean underwear.”

  “Too much information, Chand,” his sentinel replied with a shake of his head and a grin. After arriving in his bedroom and rifling through his chest of drawers, Chander was happy to find that he did, in fact, have a few pairs of clean underwear. He tugged on a pair of briefs, grabbed a pair of faded jeans, and yanked a black T-shirt over his head. Replacing the glasses on his face, he headed back out of the bedroom he shared with his many stacks of old books and headed to the kitchen to get the one thing he never forgot: coffee.

  Chugging down a full cup, Chander looked up at his tall sentinel and said, “Meet you there?” Necromancers, like most of magickind, could teleport themselves. Because only druids and warlocks had the ability to transport an entire group, he and Baxter would have to travel separately.

  “After you,” Baxter said to an unsurprised Chander. Neither one of his sentinels liked it when Chander translocated—to their thinking, it left him vulnerable for the few seconds it took for his sentinel to be back at his side. Chander knew that at least when he went to D’Vaire, the two sentinels that lived there kept Baxter and Benton more at ease than when he was forced to visit other venues.

  Saying nothing more, Chander envisioned the beautiful large family room where the D’Vaires often gathered and moments later opened his pewter eyes to see Baxter materializing next to him. The D’Vaires, as usual, greeted him warmly and despite his impatience to see the spell, forced him to sit down to eat a large breakfast.

  The blind elf who drew Chander to D’Vaire was eating his plate of fruit and veggies in silence. He could hardly imagine what could be going through Edion’s mind as he dealt with not only the traumatic events of the previous day but also the fear that assuredly must accompany the day’s plans. All Chander could do was try to make this as painless a process as possible and luckily, he had two powerful warlocks ready to minimize the discomfort Edion would feel as the spell was removed. Once it was gone, only Fate knew who Edion really was and how his life would proceed from there on out.

  “Trystan, did you call your Dad?” Baxter asked with a wry smile. Trystan D’Vaire’s father was the leader of the Order of the Fallen Knights. Reverent Knight Drystan Kempe had been, like all his kind, resurrected from death to serve as the defenders and peacekeepers of all citizens belonging to their Council. A crime such as the one perpetrated against Edion would usually be reported immediately to the fallen knights.

  “We all talked and decided it would be best to wait until after Edion’s spell is removed. We might be able to give him more info. If not, then I’ll call him and he’ll go to work. That area isn’t frequented by anyone, so it shouldn’t impact his ability to read the scene,” Trystan replied as he fixed his spectacles where they sat perched on his nose. Like Chander, Trystan was a bookworm and at twenty-five already needed glasses to see clearly.

  “I wondered why he wasn’t here,” Chander replied. He hadn’t even thought to call Drystan himself; he figured Trystan would have taken care of that but since Edion wasn’t in any immediate danger, he wasn’t going to argue the point.

  “I imagine he won’t be thrilled, but this is about Edion and Edion’s priority is having the spell removed. Then, we hunt down this Lorcan character,” Trystan said. Chander’s face split into a grin before he could help it. It was only the Reverent Knight’s beloved son who could speak so lightly of his father’s anger. Not a tyrant by any stretch, Drystan’s dedication to the fallen knights and powerful personality kept most people on their toes. Chander had watched more than one person, Council leaders at that, tremble when stared down by the blue-eyed Reverent Knight.

  “I’m sure everything will work out. You know, if you’re the one to call him,” Baxter said to Trystan.

  “It’s my Court and ultimately my responsibility to contact the fallen knights. I will call Drystan as soon as Edion is relieved of his spell,” Aleksander said as he stood to clear his plate from the table. “May I take your plate, Edion?”

  “Yes, thank you, Aleksander,” Edion said in a soft voice as he continued to stare sightlessly at the table in front of him. Mind reading was beyond the power of any known sorcerer, but Chander could feel the nerves pouring off the elf.

  Finishing off the last bite of his breakfast, Chander pushed back his chair to stand. Before he could even blink, Baxter snatched his plate and sauntered off toward the dishwasher to dispose of it along with his own. Heaving out a sigh, Chander shook his head and rolled his eyes. His sentinels had somehow both decided it was their duty to take care of him. It annoyed him, but he was unable to figure out how to get them to knock it off.

  “Edion, are you ready?” Dra’Kaedan asked as he walked over to where the elf sat—no doubt, he wanted to be available to assist him in any way he could.

  “Yes,” Edion said as he came to stand and tower several inches over the warlock.

  “Chand, I think it’s best if we keep as few people in the room as possible,” Dra’Kaedan began as he held out his arm to guide Edion so he wouldn’t have to count his steps. “You, me, Baxter, Edion, and Dre’Kariston. That’s it.”

  “Works for me. How are you feeling, Edion?” Chander asked as he fell into step behind the pair. Dre’Kariston and Baxter were soon following their little trio down the long hallway in the enormous D’Vaire house.

  “I wish I was not so nervous.”

  “I can’t imagine anyone more brave than you at this moment, Edion. You are putting your trust into our hands to keep you safe and remove this spell without harming you. If that wasn’t enough, you have no idea what is waiting for you on the other side of this. If we can do anything at all to make this easier for you, let us know. We will all be there for you for whatever you need,” Dra’Kaedan promised.

  “Thank you all for doing this. Thank you Arch—I mean Chander, for coming here today. I-I really appreciate it,” Edion said as they walked into his large living space. The room was awash in honey-colored wooden furniture and lavender furnishings. Chander wasn’t at all surprised the D’Vaires would furnish it in Edion’s colors even though up until this point he had no way of seeing it.

  “I’m simply glad I have the kind of magic that allows me to help you,” Chander said in earnest as Dra’Kaedan led Edion over to the bed. Turning his back to the pair, Chander listened as the warlock helped Edion out of his blue and lavender tunic. Once he was shirtless, Dra’Kaedan spoke to the elf soothingly as he guided him into laying down on the large mattress on his stomach.

  “Edion is ready,” Dra’Kaedan said. Chander turned around and his eyes immediately latched on to the silvery spell stuck almost dead center on the slender elf’s back. Stepping closer, Chander leaned down to get a good look at it. It did, in fact, resemble the ones he had once viewed on Dra’Kaedan’s back. He knew he could not discount the possibility that it had been Carvallius that had changed the course of Edion’s life. From the dead warlock’s journals, he knew the man had been friendly with the Cwylld for several centuries. Hopefully once it was removed, Edion would have some idea why he was chosen to be blinded and malformed.

  “Edion, Dra’Kaedan and Dre’Kariston are going to start casting before I do. I am going to do this very fast to minimize any discomfort. Okay?” Chander asked.

  “Yes. Okay.” Without giving the elf more time to feel what had to be crushing fear and worry, Chander squared his shoulders and in his mind’s eye imagined a dark hand ripping the spell from Edion’s back just as one would remove a band-aid. Throwing as much power as he dared into the action, Chander pulled until he saw the edge of the silver mark begin to disappear. He saw Edion wiggle on the mattress slightly and turned to see Dra’Kaedan’s eyes begin to glow more gold than their normal navy
blue.

  More healing power invaded the space, and Chander tugged harder on what he was discovering to be the very blackest of magic. Knowledge poured through the necromancer and Chander realized Edion’s sight had not been the focus but the cost of the spell. It was Edion’s identity that had been obliterated and to do that, a price had to be paid. Reaching further into his own deep pool of power, he tore the remainder of it from Edion.

  The horrid spot had barely melted away before Edion began screaming. The sound was ear-piercing and Chander, without delay, harnessed all the dark energy surrounding him. Edion’s screaming grew in volume even though Chander could not possibly still be harming the elf.

  “Chand, it’s gone. Pull back,” Dra’Kaedan demanded. His eyes were pure gold and the magic was so thick, Chander imagined he could all but taste it. The twins were doing all they could to alleviate whatever pain the elf was feeling, yet the tortured yells continued.

  “I’m not casting,” Chander said as Edion rolled off the bed and crouched down on the floor, his head in his hands. His screams were silenced so suddenly that Chander’s ears rang in the calm.

  “Edion, are you all right?” Dra’Kaedan asked as both he and his brother dropped down onto their knees close to the blond elf. Chander followed suit; he needed to know if he had somehow harmed Edion in his haste to remove the mark. Turning his head for a moment, Chander could see that Baxter still stood in silent sentry near the door, his eyes full of empathy for whatever was hurting the elf.

  Edion began to rock slightly and said in a voice thick with tears, “No, I’m not all right.” Then he lifted his head to look at the three sorcerers kneeling on the floor surrounding him. Chander found himself looking into a lovely set of lavender eyes where just minutes before, the irises had been missing. The look in them was devastating. Gone too was the asymmetry of Edion’s face.

  It was now ethereally beautiful as elves often were, and along his left temple and cheek was an intricate line of scrollwork in both lavender and black. The broken ear was once again perfect, and like his face, it showed what Chander knew the spell had hidden. Near the tip of the long ear were two hoops of lavender and black. Both the earrings and the scrollwork bore witness to the world that whoever Edion truly was, he had a mate waiting for him.