Blood Drawn: A novel of The Demon Accords

by John Conroe

  “Child of the Eater?” Nika quoted. “That implies that the Vorsook piloting that scout ship was the offspring of the Devourer of Worlds.”

  “Bingo!” Lydia said.

  “You think it is literal?” I asked.

  “Son of the Emerald is clearly Declan, so yes,” Tanya said.

  “What else has this guy predicted?” Stacia asked.

  “We don’t know,” Lydia said. “It was coincidence that Ilyana happened to see it, find it interesting, and send it up the chain.”

  “Kind of a fantastic coincidence, if you ask me,” Stacia said.

  “The odds are rather long,” Omega said. “Father?”

  “I’d have to check in with Aunt Ash. She knows way more about stuff like that than I ever will.”

  “Back to the Devourer’s child part,” I said. “Is that a big deal to Vorsook, or do they have thousands of offspring?”

  “A successful Vorsook like the Devourer of Worlds will typically commission several hundred cloned descendants. However, intense competition normally results in only a handful making it to adulthood. To be tasked with an ongoing scouting mission of a target like Earth, this one was likely high up in its parent’s regard.”

  “So that’s gonna sting,” Lydia said.

  “And now we have a pissed-off alien?” Stacia asked.

  “Vorsook do not typically display emotions, particularly intense ones. However, it will, most likely, feel this loss… when it learns of it. With the scout craft completely destroyed, we may have some time before it finds out.”

  “Could this push it to make an error?” I asked.

  “Unknown. Loss of an agent is a normal risk, especially in world subjugation operations, and unlikely to elicit a reaction. However, loss of a valuable descendant might be more of a shock.”

  “We need to be both ready for a retaliation, but more importantly, this might bring us an opportunity,” I said.

  “A trap?” Tanya asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “But we have no way of knowing how it will react,” Declan said.

  “Agreed, but all I’m saying is we need to be agile and fast if we see an opening,” I said. “Tomorrow, we are to go to meet Morrigan and see what hoops she has for us to hop through. We can’t be certain that whatever this information is, it will help us counterstrike, so we have to keep other options ready.”

  “Just how will you be traveling to the Winter Court?” Tanya asked.

  We all turned and looked at Declan. “There is a locked portal ring in Idiria that leads to Morrigan’s citadel in the northern realm. I imagine we will portal to Idiria, then to the Winter Court.”

  “You have a portal that lets Morrigan enter your city?” Lydia asked.

  “No, we have a locked gateway. Locked on my side and on hers. There’s also one for the Summer Realm.”

  “And it leads right into her palace?” Tanya asked.

  “I don’t know, as it’s always been locked since we’ve been coming here,” Declan said, shooting a glance at his werewolf.

  “Greer mentioned it once,” Stacia said. “I think it comes out wherever she wants it to, outside her fortress, inside, whatever.”

  “So, you’ll just be gating into an unknown place in the heart of the Dark Queen’s realm?” Lydia asked, eyebrows up. “Absolutely no chance of a massive ambush or anything.”

  “If Neeve guarantees safe passage, then no, there isn’t,” Declan said. “Rules of conduct are pretty sacrosanct. However, there will be a thousand opportunities for us to offend someone or create a diplomatic incident. Those will be the traps set for us.”

  “And just how are we to avoid those?” Nika asked.

  “We likely can’t,” Declan said. “We would need months of diplomacy training to prepare for a trip like this, so it’s better we work to avoid the biggest pitfalls and assume we’ll get called out on a lesser one.”

  “That sounds like a recipe for disaster,” Tanya said darkly.

  “As a Realmholder, I will be considered the person with overall responsibility for my party’s actions. That means I have the right to answer any and all challenges that get thrown our way.”

  “You say that like it’s a good thing,” Lydia said. “Frankly, despite your power, you’re the most vulnerable to injury.”

  “Perhaps, but here, on Fairie, my abilities are really ramped up, so I’m the biggest gun,” he answered.

  “Guns aren’t any good if they miss their targets,” Lydia shot back.

  “Maybe gun isn’t the best analogy,” Stacia said. “More like bomb. Biggest bomb. Targeting gets easier when you just blow up everything.”

  “Horseshoes and hand grenades?” I asked.

  “Horseshoes and nuclear weapons,” she corrected.

  Chapter 23

  We were all up well before dawn. Something about visiting an elven queen in her fortress of frost and ice, surrounded by her armies of fairie monsters tends to make sleep… difficult. We packed quickly, there being little to stow away as we all traveled light, and we all fueled up with a big breakfast. That last part is no mean feat, by the way. Feeding my metabolism and Stacia’s takes a ridiculous amount of food, but the inn was more than up to the task. I had heard both Declan and Stacia brag about Lottie’s cooking, but the reality was she was easily as good as Chef Remy, at least within her chosen specialties.

  We had feasted on hawk-chicken eggs Benedict (although on Fairie, they were simply called Heartsbane eggs) on thick biscuits instead of muffins, wild boar bacon, a thick porridge seasoned with honey and nuts, and toast lathered with butter and some type of berry jelly, all washed down with tea laced liberally with cream and sugar.

  The eggs were huge, the yolks twice the size of an extra-large hen’s egg, and Stacia informed me that they were laid by a bird that was more raptor than chicken.

  Declan ate a full breakfast—but just one, as opposed to the six-person breakfast that the werewolf and I consumed. Nika sipped bagged blood that I warmed with my hands, but she barely paid attention, as she was clearly excited to be up to watch the alien sun rise.

  “You sure it won’t hurt me?” she asked Declan for the fifth time.

  “Do you feel even slightly sleepy?” he asked. “Did you feel anything when we arrived at sunset yesterday?”

  She shook her head, eyes bright with hope. “The sun rises almost in line with the inn’s front porch,” he said, “and it should be up in…”

  “Three minutes and fourteen seconds,” Omega said, his voice coming from both of Declan’s nano bracelets.

  “Let’s go sit on the front porch,” he suggested, glancing at our plates and then the little bit of food still in serving bowls on the table. “These two are almost done and can join us as it comes up.”

  Nika nodded, eyes focused on the front windows. Declan walked from the dining room to the door and held it open, looking back at Nika expectantly.

  She hesitated for a moment before suddenly standing and following him. I gobbled down an egg and two pieces of bacon, drained my tea, and followed. Tanya would want a full description of her sister’s first glimpse of a sunrise in decades.

  Outside, the witch and the vampire had claimed seats on one of the six long Rowan wood benches, eyes focused on the rapidly brightening horizon. Declan leaned back, his long, lanky legs crossed at the ankle, a mug of steaming tea in his hands. Nika sat on the edge of the bench, feet under her in case she needed to move, the bag of blood forgotten in her hands.

  Declan was watching her with a side-eye, a small grin on his face. He looked at me and his grin got wider, but Nika’s gaze never wavered. “Yeah, yeah, so I’m excited to watch the sun rise. Bite me,” she said without anger.

  “Just fun to watch, Nika,” I said. I heard the door open behind me and heard, smelled, and felt Stacia come out of the inn. At that moment, Nika’s eyes widened, and she sucked in a tiny breath. I settled on the bench next to Declan, not wanting to cross in front of them and block her view for even a mome
nt.

  “It’s really red,” she said, a small furrow between her eyes. “I know you said it was redder than our sun, but I haven’t seen a full sunrise on Earth in a long time and I imagined it differently.”

  “It plays havoc on makeup, but the plus side is that you don’t need as much lipstick,” Stacia said. I was pretty sure she wasn’t wearing any makeup at all.

  Grim perked up and turned my attention to the shadows by the corner of one warehouse. Neeve was moving alongside the wall of the building, footsteps silent even when I pushed my sense of hearing outward.

  “Time to go,” I said. The others all looked where I was staring as the silver-eyed elf emerged from the morning gloom. Her lips pursed in a moment of what looked like pique before smoothing out into a bland, bored expression.

  I was already back by the inn’s door, handing our small packs out to the others. The Winter princess said nothing as we trooped down the steps and up to her position in front of the inn.

  “Well, Realm Holder? We need a portal to Idiria,” Neeve said, her tone curt.

  Without a word, Declan gestured and reality tore open in front of us, a mirrored surface reflecting the early red light of Fairie’s sun. Neeve turned and strode through with casual ease. Stacia followed immediately after, close enough to prevent the other from taking an attack position when she got through.

  Nika went next, then me, and Declan followed last.

  I wasn’t used to portal travel, not like Declan and Stacia, my senses spinning slightly as my right foot touched ground a hundred miles from where it had lifted. Nika looked a bit wobbly too, but the other three were rock steady. We were in a set of rooms, complete with an open roof and garden below. Richly colored carpets covered the floors; polished wooden furniture filled the spaces.

  “You’ve changed things,” Neeve said.

  “Well, it’s easy to remodel when you have to repair frequently,” Stacia said.

  “I don’t care at all for your taste in furniture,” Neeve said. I was surprised for a moment because the hand-carved and finished chairs, tables, and benches were stunningly crafted. Then I recalled that they were Rowan wood, what the locals called witchwood, and that elves disliked it because it caused them physical pain.

  “Yeah, well, the furniture doesn’t care for you either,” Stacia said, stroking the arm of a tall-backed chair as she moved toward the garden to inspect plants that I realized she might have planted. The chair quivered like a dog caressed by its master.

  “This is really fascinating,” Nika said, looking around with interest. “I love how you’ve decorated.”

  “Oh, dear, you must be as provincial as the rest of them,” Neeve said, turning and heading for what looked like a main door. “No time for slumming. Mother is expecting us.”

  She led us out into a long, wide corridor filled with busy people, mostly elves but a few others including goblins, flying pucks, and humans. All of them got the hell out of the deadly elf’s way, jumping back against the walls or turning back into open doorways as soon as they spotted her.

  That corridor led to another, then to an open street lined with tall white buildings and bustling with various people, and by people I mean beings. These folks too took one look at the white-haired, dragonskin-wearing elf and cleared a path.

  Idiria passed by in a blur as we moved at a fast pace across a city that was like something from a fantasy movie. We entered another building, this one very large and ornate. The massive doors were in the center of the building and led into a torch-lit hallway that ended at a T-intersection. Neeve turned left, walked about twenty feet down the hall, and stopped in front of a granite archway that seemed to decorate the right-hand side of the wall. The stone looked very old, worn and weathered, like it had been dug up and installed as a decorative feature. Strange markings, like the glyphs that formed on Declan’s skin when he activated his warlock features, ran across the surface of the stone. The hall continued down to a massive, ornate doorway that was currently closed. Across from the strange rock arch to nowhere was a burbling fountain of crystal-clear water flowing into a smooth black basalt basin in the floor.

  “Open it,” Neeve ordered.

  “Hmm, open the gate to your mom’s army of doom?” Declan said. “So you can march right into my realm and my city.”

  “Yours? You’ve barely paid the slightest attention to the Middle Realm. What would you even care?” the haughty elf asked, one brow arched.

  Declan stared at her a moment, then shrugged. “Yeah, who cares? Right? But let me just get my game face on,” he said and waved his right hand in a casual manner.

  Things came out of the walls and the floor, massive lumps of stone and mortar that rose up and out of sheer rock. The formless shapes quickly melted into fine detail, revealing stone beings shaped like giant apes, massive saber-toothed tigers, and one giant badger made of granite.

  The torches hanging in sconces on the walls flared and grew into flaming bipedal creatures of pure heat and light, hovering halfway to the ceiling, glowing white-hot eyespots fixed on the elf. A sudden wind made them flicker around the edges as air streamed into the building from the open doors out front.

  “Better?” the witch asked his girlfriend.

  “Water?” she suggested, glancing meaningfully at the fountain.

  “Right,” he said with a nod. The pool of water lifted itself out of the basin and formed a spinning sphere of water that grew rapidly as the pouring fountain fed upward into it.

  “Such theatrics, little Holder,” Neeve said with a smirk. “Mother has promised safe passage.”

  “But said nothing of invasion,” Stacia commented.

  “Fine, as Princess of the Winter Court, acting on behalf of her Majesty, Queen Morrigan, I assure you that no invasion of the Middle Realm is planned for this time.”

  I looked at Nika, who moved her right hand where it hung by her side, making a knocking motion with her closed fist against her leg. Yes. Truth.

  Declan met my eyes when I looked back up. It was my turn to nod.

  “Right. Let’s get to it,” he said, stepping forward and putting both arms over his head, placing them in the middle of the arch at its highest point. In one smooth motion, he brought each arm down and to the side simultaneously, his open hands brushing the rock like he was wiping dust from its surface.

  A deep tone sounded, like the single peal of the biggest brass bell ever made. The blank wall inside the arch disappeared, replaced by a crystal-clear mirror, reflecting our entire group as we stood looking back at ourselves.

  “May I be the first to welcome you to the Winter Court,” Neeve said, a cold smile on her lips as she stepped through the portal.

  “That’s not creepy in the slightest,” Stacia said, slipping in front of her witch and through the mirrored surface without hesitation.

  Declan swore softly, following instantly.

  “Race you,” Nika said, then she too was through.

  The waiting elementals faded back into the walls, floor, fountain, torches, and open air, leaving me alone in the hall with flickering flame light. I cursed softly and stepped through.

  Chapter 24

  Cold. It was bone cold as I stepped from the warmth and light of Idiria into a vast room floored in dark stone, walled in ice-covered rock, with a vaulted ceiling so high that the lack of light and heat made it opaque to all of my forms of vision. It seemed like it could have clouds and its own weather system up there.

  The room was dark and shadowy, filled with elves and goblins and things I had no name for. Clouds of pucks flittered like giant piranha-toothed bats, crowding the air over the crystal throne and its single occupant. Lean figures in black dragonskin stood in a line before the dais, each holding a familiar gleaming Black Frost blade. One had the same hair as Neeve, a male. He was tall, with icy blue eyes and a long ponytail. He stood directly in front of the throne, clearly related to the Queen and the princess.

  Morrigan had the same dark skin and white hair as h
er children, but her eyes were orbs of black. Her dress was bluish crystal, and it jingled ever so softly as she moved, and it was that sound that brought me the realization she was literally wearing ice. The crystal throne and her dress were both illuminated with a white glow that came from nowhere. Her eyes roved over our little group, slipping past Stacia, pausing on Declan, head tilted slightly at Nika, and finally focused on me. She smiled, a delighted smile, although her jet-black eyes didn’t seem to feel the same way.

  “Queen Morrigan, Monarch of the White Court, Supreme Power of the North, Mistress of Cold and Despair, I present Declan of the Middle Realm, his consort, and his companions, the vampire Nika and the Fallen, Chris Gordon,” Neeve called out in a clear voice that carried and even echoed slightly across the vast room. High overhead, something rustled in the opaque darkness.

  “You rang, Your Majesty?” Declan said after a short, sharp bow. It wasn’t a student-to-sensi type bow but something that conveyed marginal respect and utter confidence. The onlookers hissed and growled, faces turning hard. Well, harder, as they had been pretty fierce from the get-go. Grim estimated well over a hundred individual beings surrounding us.

  “You have yet to lose your insolence, young witch,” Morrigan said in a crystal voice that carried raw power. “Here, in my Court, you offer me the most minimal respect. I’ve a mind to correct your behavior.”

  “Is our accord at an end, Your Majesty?” he asked calmly. I had come out of the gateway just behind him and I was close enough to catch his scent. He looked calm but he smelled slightly of adrenaline and something like eagerness.

  Morrigan’s smile had disappeared, her expression as cold as her icy throne. She studied him, the silence dragging on. Morrigan looked imperial, transcendent, alien, her pupils so dilated that her eyes were almost completely black. After an uncomfortable period of time, her head suddenly tilted to one side, slightly, a human-looking action that seemed odd on her.

  “You have an issue with my Court?” she suggested finally.

  “I do, Your Majesty. One of your people launched an attack against us on Earth,” Declan said.