"You’re in no position to be making demands, my friend," the Ascended sighed as he put the book away.
Imicot studied the flow of energy around the demigod, but could discern nothing. Whatever he was up to, he was shielding it well. If only his body hadn't grown so weak, he could divine the course his boy was being set on. With enough time, and help from the Priestess, he might still be able to.
"What is it you want of me, then?" he asked, deciding to humor the demigod until he could ask Ramora for aid.
Rakiss folded his hands behind his back, making a face that over-exaggerated his pondering of that question. "Well, there is one thing you can do to help me. A little nudge in the right direction from you would do wonders for moving all of this forward to the next phase."
Chuckling, the sorcerer waved a hand slightly. "Esteban is going to return to his world after I am gone, immortal. I will not help you do anything. He deserves to be among his own people."
"And the world deserves to be a peaceful place, unsullied by evil," Rakiss said with a shrug. "Funny how things never go the way they should, isn't it?"
Scowling, Imicot considered the Ascended carefully. "I’m not being given a choice in this, am I?"
Rakiss paused, a note of sadness crossing his face. "No, you’re not. I am sorry for that. I wouldn’t do this if there were another way."
"Find another way, I beg of you," the old man pleaded. "Leave my boy out of it."
"I truly do wish I could, but there isn’t enough time," the demigod said as he moved to sit on the bed. "Things are happening, things I can barely control. I need him, and I need him now. You’re going to help me, and I am so, so sorry for that."
Imicot nodded slowly. "Will he suffer?"
"Greatly, yes," Rakiss said slowly. "There’s no other way."
"Why?" he pleaded, tears beginning to fall. "Why must you do this to my boy?"
Rakiss reached out, stroking the old man's balding head. "Because the world is full of evil, and it shouldn’t be."
"Making him suffer will not erase that," Imicot argued.
"Yes, it will," the Ascended told him. "That you must believe."
Imicot bowed his head, weeping for his son, his beautiful boy. "What are you going to make me do?"
Pulling back his hand, Rakiss stared at a window for a long moment, then said, "Listen to me carefully, for you will do exactly what I say."
The old sorcerer listened, horrified, shaking his head weakly at the things the Ascended wanted him to do. When the demigod left, Imicot remembered none of it, and slept peacefully.
The last piece in place, Rakiss waited to see if things went as planned.
"Forgive me, Little Sister," he murmured at the blizzard-coated night outside. "I must break your heart to strike at Ker Zet."
Chapter Fourteen
WHEN SHE WOKE the next morning, Chara didn’t feel as rested as she’d hoped. Horrible dreams had plagued her all through the night; though she couldn’t fully recall them once she was awake. She just remembered that they’d frightened her and filled her with dread.
Rolling over, she found Ramora still sleeping, and started to reach out, wanting to caress her. Her hand trembled before she could, a feeling of uncertainty washing over her, making her pull back. Instead, she sat up and eased out of bed.
She would go right through me to get the man she's after.
Chara shook her head, pushing the thought away. Ramora wouldn't do that. The warrior loved her. Didn't she?
Looking down at her, she wasn't as sure as she’d been before. Maybe, she thought, she saw her young companion as a way to pass the time. Or worse, a useful distraction that she could use in her quest for vengeance.
Chara closed her eyes a moment, pushing all of those thoughts aside. It was nonsense. She didn't even know where they came from. Still, she couldn't bring herself to go back to bed, and instead got dressed and slipped quietly from the room to go in search of breakfast.
Sunlight shone in through the hall window, drawing her to it. Outside, the landscape was solid white, a frozen stretch that seemed to go on forever. Drifts of snow had piled up along the wall that surrounded the keep, looking deeper than she was tall from her vantage point. She couldn't even make out where the road was.
Her father and his fellow soldiers had been trapped here for weeks, making her realize for the first time that she and Ramora could be as well. With a frown, she decided she best get used to it and headed down to the kitchen. There wasn't anything she could do about it, after all, and with the new day, she’d chosen to approach life from that direction.
She would go right through me to get the man she's after.
Chara paused on the steps, resting a hand against the wall as a wave of nausea and dizziness swept over her. Glancing back up, she assured herself that wasn’t true, but she wondered. After all, she’d leapt at the chance last night, hadn't she? Right in the middle of their intimacy no less, right? What if she would think nothing of cutting through the young woman to slay the man who had destroyed her family?
What did that make them?
"Stop it," she muttered to herself. "Just stop it. Ramora is a Blessed. She’d never do that."
Except.
She’d watched her family be brutally murdered. Blessed or not, a person wasn't the same after that. It destroyed a part of them. They didn’t act in rational ways. Even with the people they loved the most. They couldn't.
"I’m not thinking this," she told herself.
Yet, she couldn't help but wonder. Where did she really stand, when push came to shove, with the warrior? Suddenly, she was no longer certain. That alone made her feel sick.
Pushing the dark musings aside, she continued down the steps. It didn't matter anyway, none of it. She’d made a promise to stand by Ramora's side, and help her find the man who had devastated her life. She would see that through, no matter what. Regardless of how Ramora felt, Chara loved her too much to abandon her.
Unless she was misleading herself about that, too. Maybe it really was just hero worship. Or latching on to the first person who offered a chance to get out of Rheumer. Maybe what she felt wasn't love at all, but lust. Didn't that make her little better than a whore?
Reaching the landing, she stopped, taking a deep breath. She’d left all of that behind when she departed Rheumer. She wasn't that girl anymore. She didn't just hop into bed with whoever looked fun. She was different now. She was aiding a Blessed of the Gods.
Right?
"Shut up," she snapped at her own head. "Last thing I need is you getting all weird on me, too."
Forcing herself to be still, she took several long, calming breaths. This wasn’t about her. It wasn't even really about Ramora. This was about stopping a dangerous person who had no doubt destroyed many other lives over the last ten years, and planned to lay waste to even more.
This was about doing something that made the world a better place. That's all that mattered here. It was bigger than her feelings, or anyone else's. She told herself that several times until her chaotic mind stilled.
Shaking herself, she headed for the dining hall, but paused as she passed the smaller door that lay between the stairs and the main room. It stood slightly ajar, the soft sound of humming coming from inside. Moving to it, she eased it open, and found Esteban working in the kitchen.
May as well start by apologizing to him, she thought, stepping in, where the full oddity of the room struck her. With a quiet sigh, she faced yet more weirdness.
"Excuse me," she offered,
Turning to face her, the big Cat smiled. "Good morning, Lady Chara. May I offer you some breakfast?"
Chara stared at him in mystified bewilderment. "Uh... sure."
"Excellent," he intoned, going to a large cabinet on the far side and opening it, briefly revealing a wide array of food as he removed several large, brown eggs. "Would you care for an omelet?"
"Uh... sure," she managed.
Why is that all I can say, she wondered. Oh, ri
ght, it's because he's weirder than usual.
Setting the eggs aside, he returned to the cabinet and gathered ham, sausage, bell pepper, and cheese. Chara watched him in fascinated curiosity, trying to reconcile this Werejaguar with the one from last night.
"So, um," she started, easing into the kitchen. "I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night."
Esteban glanced over at her and then looked away, ears twitching. "There’s no need. I was a poor host. It is I who should apologize."
So, the world can just keep getting weirder, she thought. Great.
"How about we just forget about it, and start fresh?" she offered.
Esteban gave her a shy smile. "I would greatly appreciate the chance for that."
Nodding, she stepped up, offering her hand. "Hello. I'm Chara, from Rheumer. It's very nice to meet you."
The big Cat hesitated a moment, then took her hand gently as he bowed. "I’m Esteban, son of Imicot. The pleasure is mine, milady." With a surprisingly gentle touch, he kissed the back of her hand.
"That was formal," she blurted, then grimaced.
Esteban smiled that same shy smile again. "I’m afraid I’m not terribly accustomed to company here, especially from women. I’m not certain how to conduct myself."
"Same as you would if I wasn't here," she said quickly. "Remember, I grew up in a farming community. I've got zero manners fit for polite society."
With a laugh, he nodded. "As you wish, Lady Chara."
"And I'm not a lady," she told him. "Just Chara will do fine."
"Of course," he said, bowing slightly. "Please forgive my awkwardness."
"Not at all," she told him. "I'm sorry if I'm making you feel that way."
Esteban waved it away. "No, no. It's me. I'm sorry."
Chara stood there, nodding, feeling like an idiot for a minute. "We should probably stop apologizing to each other now."
"That would be nice," Esteban mused.
As he turned back to preparing her meal, she watched his tail twitch, and for no reason she could name, found it adorable. It no sooner crossed her mind than she mentally slapped herself, thinking, Hey! I've got a girlfriend!
Sort of, anyway. Maybe. She wasn't really sure about that.
What the Hells, she wondered, is wrong with me?
Shaking herself once again, she watched as the towering Cat set about dicing up the ingredients. He moved with great precision and agility, making it look like a simple matter. She found herself admiring the ease with which he moved.
Wait, what? Chiding herself, she moved around the large island he worked at, wanting to check out the cabinet where he’d gotten the food. The way her mind was wandering, she was starting to think maybe she was a bit of a whore after all.
Glancing over at the Werecat, she looked him over, from the tight-fitting brown leather pants he wore from the knee up, leaving his powerful lower legs and feet bare, with a hole sewn into the back that allowed his tail to pass through, to the cream-colored vest that let his well-muscled arms show. Then she realized what she was doing.
Okay, she thought. Maybe I'm a bit on the lusty side. Nothing wrong with that. That's normal. Doesn't mean I'm going to act on it.
Closing her eyes, she told herself to stop thinking. Nothing good happened when she started thinking. On second thought, she didn't like the way that sounded. Maybe she should just stop thinking about sex.
Or go back upstairs and get some from Ramora.
She would go right through me to get the man she's after.
Chara sighed.
"Is everything alright?" Esteban asked.
"I really don’t know," she replied softly.
He paused in his preparations. "Is there something I can help with?"
Chara shook her head slowly, staring at nothing. "I'm having a hard time adjusting to things. I think it's making me a bit crazy."
"I know how that feels," Esteban offered.
Looking over at him, she saw the way he stared down at the ingredients, ears lowered, eyes lost in sadness. "I'm sorry."
His expression changed to curiosity as he glanced over at her. "Whatever for?"
With a soft laugh, she ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back from her face. "Being a pain in the ass."
Esteban shook his head. "I don't see you that way."
She stared at the cabinet for a moment more before deciding she really didn't care what it was all about and went over to the long, wide island, hopping up on it to sit. "You said something a minute ago that I'm wondering about. Is it okay if I ask you about it?"
Esteban gave her a slight nod. "I don't mind."
"You called Imicot your father," she said nervously. "How does that work?"
The big Cat smiled at that. "I suppose that would be a bit confusing, wouldn't it?"
Chara pointed at herself with both hands. "Country girl. We don’t have much of the learning in the backwoods."
Chuckling, Esteban turned to the flat counter behind him and touched a small scribble on the front before setting a skillet atop it, dropping a half stick of butter in as he spoke. "When I was just a boy, father found me wandering in the woods of my home realm. I couldn’t speak, and to this day, do not fully recall how I got there. He tried his best to find my family, but never could, so he brought me here, and raised me. He’s the only father I’ve ever known."
Chara picked up a few tidbits of the ham, munching on them. "Home realm?"
"Ah, yes," he said. "I’m not from the Middle World."
She tried to nod like she understood, but she had no idea what that meant. "Oh. Of course. Naturally."
"Not a clue?" he asked with a grin.
"Nope," she admitted.
He nodded, pulling a bowl out from under the cabinet and setting about whipping the eggs. "The room your companion was so interested in last night, the one with all the drawings of doorways? That's called a Nexus Gate. It can open pathways to other worlds."
"It can do what now?" Chara exclaimed, and then coughed as a piece of ham went down wrong.
Esteban took the ham away from her before she choked on it. "The story goes that at the end of the First Age, when Grannax separated the One World into three, echoes of worlds that might have been were created. They are possibilities, things the Divine Tiger might have done differently when he created the One World."
"The Shadow Realms," Chara said suddenly. "I've heard of them, but most people I know say they aren't real."
"They are most real," the Cat assured her, sliding the melting butter around the pan. "I’ve been to many of them."
She nodded in awe. "Oh. Well, guess that settles that."
"Indeed," Esteban replied with a grin. "The realm my father found me in is called Ethrik by the natives, but here in the Middle World, it’s known as the Savage Realm. There are no Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Trolls, or Ogres there. Only people like me. The Werefolk."
"Sounds hairy," Chara commented, and then bowed her head, shaking it slowly.
Esteban laughed. "I suppose it does, doesn't it?"
"Don't mind me," Chara sighed, rubbing her face. "Sometimes I open my mouth and a lot of stupid falls out."
"Don’t worry over it," he chuckled. "It’s a very different place than this. Father took me there many times as we searched for some clue as to my identity. Eventually, we gave up, and I’ve remained here, with him."
"And now," Chara said softly.
Esteban nodded, sadness tinging his face. "Yes. Now, he’s not long for this world."
"I'm sorry," she offered. "Ramora and I, we came at a really bad time."
"Not at all," he assured her. "You arrived at the perfect time. Ramora will be able to grant him his fondest wish. To absolve himself of the sins he carries. There is no better time."
"I meant for you," Chara told him. "For Imicot, sure, but for you, not really."
Esteban's ears twitched. Chara felt the overwhelming urge to reach out and scratch them. She laced her fingers together in her lap instead. She dec
ided she really might do well to become a monk with a vow of celibacy, or whatever it was monks did.
"It is difficult," he said at last. "All I truly want is to be by his side. However, Ramora will be able to give him a great gift, and lift the burden he carries from his shoulders. I won’t deny him that. I want to help with it, which right now, means attending to our guests."
Chara gave him a sad smile. "Still, it must be very hard for you. I’m sorry I've made things more difficult."
"I believe we weren’t going to apologize to each other anymore," he said.
"Right you are," she agreed. "No more apologizing."
Esteban turned back to the skillet and poured the whipped egg into it. "If I may ask, what brought the two of you here? I know it wasn’t so father could make his confession."
"We're looking for information on a man who serves the Demon Gods," she answered, relieved to move away from the sad topic of Imicot. "My father said that while he was here, he was sure he saw the banner the man carries in one of Imicot's books."
Esteban frowned as he working the omelet. "It is possible, of course. What was the banner?"
"Well, it looks like a black dragon, and it's rearing back on its hide legs, kind of clawing at the air I guess with its front ones, while breathing fire." She tried to mimic it, but ended up feeling like an idiot.
Nodding, Esteban turned back, flipping the omelet. "That does sound familiar. We’ll search the library later. I'm certain we will find what you seek."
"Thank you," Chara said, smiling. "And how are you cooking that without a fire? Is it magic?"
Glancing back at her in surprise, he considered the pan in front of him. "It is, yes. Do you not have these where you come from?"
"No, we don't," she told him. "We use a fire."
"I see," Esteban frowned.
Chara sulked slightly. "I know, I know. We're hillbillies."
"That wasn’t what I was thinking," he said distantly, staring at the pan.
"It's what I would be thinking if I was you," she replied.
Looking back, his ears cocked sideways, he said, "I never considered the possibility that this sort of thing wasn’t common all over the world."
Rise (War Witch Book 1) Page 17