“Who is it?”
“It’s me sir,” a familiar voice called back.
“Come in Marko.” He called to his young protégé.
Marko stepped through the bedroom door, pulling it shut behind him. “Your majesty,” he recited, bowing slightly at the waist, “I am here to escort you to the dining hall, where the others await your presence.”
“You are not escorting me, Marko. You are attending, as my second in command.” Mallok paused, watching as Marko’s hand twisted on the hilt of his sheathed sword. “Are you nervous?”
The hand immediately halted its movement. “Of course not sir, it’s just… I have never been around Immortals before, besides you of course. I’m just not sure what to expect… or what is expected of me.”
“Don’t get your hopes too high,” Mallok huffed.
Pausing he threw on his dress coat and adjusted the cuff links, before turning his attention back to Marko. The blond haired young man, was decked out in the dress uniform that they normally reserved for special occasions, complete with decorative sword. Lowering his gaze, Mallok flinched at the brightness of the light reflecting off his impeccably shined shoes. Knowing the poor boy must have spent the better part of the day shining and polishing to prepare for the evening, Mallok tried to hide the grin that threatened to form. Instead he turned his attention back to the mirror as he ran a comb through his dark shoulder length hair. “Marko relax, you will do fine.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Marko continued, his grip tightening on the handle. “It’s just…the last time you met with the Council you had my father at your side.” Marko hesitated as Mallok turned back to meet his gaze. “I just don’t want to disappoint… either of you sir.”
Mallok strolled across the room, placing a comforting hand on his young captain’s shoulder. “Son, I have known your father his entire life, just as I have known you for yours. So I believe I can speak for both of us when I say that disappointment is not a word that even comes to mind when we think of you and all you have accomplished at such a young age.” With that said, Mallok dropped his hand and headed for the door, with Marko right on his heel. “Speaking of your father, how is he doing?”
A heavy sigh from behind him, signaled the news was not as good as he had hoped it would be. “He grows sicker by the day sir. The healers can’t figure out what is wrong with him, and now he is refusing to let them see him anymore.” Marko sighed once again, the sound of a man at his wits end. “It’s like he’s giving up on life. He spends all day working his garden and tending animals instead of trying to find out what is wrong and how to fix it.”
The pair crossed the threshold of the bedroom and entered into a long granite hall, pulling the door shut behind them. “It sounds to me like your father has made up his mind to live what time he has left his own way.”
“Well to me it seems like he’s giving up without a fight and that is what upsets me more than anything else.” Marko retorts, “He spent his whole life fighting to protect and defend others, but now when it comes time to fight for himself he just gives up.”
“Whoa.” Abruptly stopping in the middle of the hall, Mallok rapidly spun around on Marko, catching him before the surprised young man could knock them both over. Bracing him by his shoulders, Mallok narrowed his gaze. “You’re looking at this all wrong. Your father is not giving up, nor is he taking the easy way out. It takes a brave man to stand in the face of death and laugh, and that is exactly what Aidan is doing. Don’t you see? He has made the decision to enjoy the time he has left, relishing each moment of peace and solidarity while doing the things he loves.” Marko’s brow furrowed with confusion, as Mallok continued to explain. “Son, your father is one of the bravest men I have come to know in all my years of existence. Like you yourself said, he has lived his life fighting battle after battle in the name of his people, he even stepped up and led this country while I was unable to, but there comes a time in every man’s life when you must put everything else to the side and decide what is best for yourself; to decide if the battle you are fighting is really worth the outcome you will achieve. And it sounds to me like that is exactly what Aidan has done.”
Marko dropped his gaze to hide the tears that threatened. Mallok’s heart went out to the young man, knowing Marko would soon have to face and eventually recover from the loss of the only family he had left. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was a process Mallok could sympathize with, having lived through it himself more times than he cared to recall. But such was the life of an immortal. A never-ending cycle of meeting and opening your heart up to people, only to be forced to stand by and watch as time and time again they left you behind, taking a little piece of your heart with them. At this point Mallok had to wonder if he even had any heart left.
If I did, Kahjoul finished if off that night. Pulling himself from his own moment of self-pity, Mallok cleared his throat and released his grip on Marko. “Enough of this... back to the business at hand. Do you have any updates for me?”
True to form, Marko snapped back to attention, “Yes sir. All the Immortals will be present tonight at the dinner except for Lady Kirsten of the Shifters.”
“And why is Lady Kirsten not going to be there?” Turning, Mallok resumed a steady gait down the hall.
“She will not arrive for a couple more days, sir.”
Sneaking a glance over his shoulder, Mallok frowned, “Her kingdom is closer than any of the others, why is she not here already?”
Marko cleared his throat and Mallok was sure if he snuck another glance over his shoulder he would find Marko’s hand working the hilt of his sword again. He really needed to work with him on that tell. “Apparently, her late arrival is Lady Kirsten’s way of expressing her disapproval of the methods we used to capture the White queen.”
“Ahh.” Mallok nodded slightly as he turned a corner and headed up the stairs. Lady Kirsten was probably the only true ally Kahjoul had left on the Council, so it made sense that she was none too happy about the whole kidnapping thing. But what choice did he have, it wasn’t like she would have come if he asked, especially with the Council involved. “Speaking of, how is our guest holding up?”
“The same.” Marko sighed, “She refuses to eat or sleep and spends all day and night staring out at the garden.”
“Has she tested the boundary spell anymore?”
“No sir, not since that first night.”
That first night, the night when she awoke laying in the same bed she had left him to rot, with him sitting only a few feet away. The stunned look that flashed across her features before she regained control had given him great pleasure, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t planned it that way. Of course he had, it was his way of messing with her head after the way she had messed with his. Bitterness twisted his gut even now when he thought about the way she had seduced him, only to ram a knife into his chest while he slept off the euphoria.
She had planned it all along, of that he had not doubt. The moment she stepped foot back into the castle from the garden, his demise was already in play. But he had been so wrapped up in his own delight at finally getting his way, of finally getting to have her in her true form, that he chose to ignore all the warnings. The darker tint of her blue eyes, the scent of freshly cut roses wafting off her, and the way she glided across the room like a cat on the prowl, all warnings of what was to come and he had ignored them like the fool he was. Rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, Mallok shook his head at his own stupidity.
But why? That one question had haunted his mind for over thirty years now, keeping him awake at night and consuming his every waking thought. And that was the one question he asked her after she awoke. Of course she didn’t answer him. Instead she rose quietly from the bed, picked up a glass of water from the bedside table, and threw it toward the open balcony doors. When it hit the invisible boundary and shattered, she locked her gaze on him in a look of complete acceptance. Walking to the nearest chair, she sat and waited, knowing what would be c
oming next. And he did not disappoint. At first he tried to reason with the statuesque figure, hoping to convince her to tell him why she had done it, desperate to determine what went wrong. But it was a pointless endeavor and he knew it. He could yell and scream and threaten her until the end of time, but if Kahjoul did not want to reveal to him her reasoning, if there was any, then she never would.
Even so that didn’t stop his anger from taking control, and the longer he stared into those emotionless brown eyes, void of any remorse for the hell she had put him through, the angrier he became. His body shook with rage as he scooped her up from the chair and slammed her small body into the granite wall, pinning her there with his arms on both sides of her head. Kahjoul never even resisted. Instead she kept her eyes downcast, refusing to meet his gaze. Angry at her stubbornness, Mallok moved his right hand, intent on using his link with the binding crystal inside her traitorous body to cause her pain. However, the moment his hand moved, something happened that stopped him in his tracks. Kahjoul flinched. It was a subtle reaction, one that would have been missed by most, but for him it had been as blatantly obvious as a bonfire in the dead of night. Because there was one thing he knew for sure, this was not the same woman who stabbed him fifty years ago. Sure, it was the same body and features underneath that mask, but the Kahjoul he had known never flinched, ever. Furrowing his brow he asked the only question he had not bothered to ask already, “Who are you?” Slowly she raised her gaze to meet with his and he was taken aback by the hopelessness that hid behind those dark brown eyes, “I am K.”
“Sir?” Marko’s voice called, pulling him back to the present. Blinking his mind clear, he realized the two of them had come to a stop outside the dining hall’s massive oak doors.
Might as well get this over with, he groaned mentally. With a deep cleansing breath, he cleared his mind of all thoughts of her, and nodded to the waiting guards. “Open them.”
The guards, both metal Elementals, simultaneously raised their hands, and summoned the iron handles of the door to do their will. The wooden doors swung open, revealing the narrow hall that lead to the circular room beyond. Continuing forward, Mallok studied the tapestries lining both sides of the hall, each one meant to tell a different story of his people’s progress over the centuries. Sounds of conversations already in full swing, drifted their way as they approached. Stopping just on the edge of the final door, Mallok stopped.
“Put your gloves on and whatever you do, do not let Cato or any other Seer touch your skin.”
“Yes, sir.” Marko replied without question. They had already had this discussion, but Mallok wasn’t taking any chances. He didn’t trust anyone in that room, especially not Cato. That man was the epitome of a snake in the grass.
Once he was sure his protégé was ready, Mallok pulled on his own gloves and stepped into the soft light of the dining hall. Five columns lined the room, each engraved with a symbol representing each one of the main five elements his people controlled; earth, fire, wind, water, and metal. In the center of the room, amidst the towering columns and decorative candelabras, sat a large circular table covered in trays full of fresh fruits and pastries. And it was there the four present members of the Immortal council sat leisurely waiting their arrival.
To his immediate left, sat the enchantingly beautiful leader of the Elves, Serefina. Her back straight and head held high, she maintained a constant air of regality while as she leisurely nibbled on a fresh strawberry and appeared bored by the conversation that was going on around her. With long blonde hair and sun kissed skin, she was rumored to have a voice so heavenly sweet that even the song birds of her home land refused to sing in her presence for fear of being put to shame. Sitting next to her, and quite the opposite of her in every way, sat Brink, a Jumper and the youngest of all the Immortals. Jovial by nature, he rarely took anything very seriously and had a penchant for causing mischief wherever he went. Then there was broad and burly Elymas. The rotund man with firey red hair and a beard to match, was the formidable ruler of the Casters. Though hard to believe it by looking at him and his gruff outwardly appearance, Elymas was a highly-educated man who ruled his people with a strong, but fair code of justice.
And finally, sitting on the opposite side of the table, isolating himself from the others while listening to everything that was being said, was the snake himself. Cato, the gangly ancient Seer was going to be Mallok’s biggest obstacle in the days ahead. He had no doubts that Cato had already sent spies to circulate his castle with the task of gathering information on the state of his kingdom in the hopes of discovering a weakness… after all, he had only been trying to weasel his way into Lanoria for two centuries. Mallok hated even having him here, but unfortunately, he was a Council member and their code stated no trial could take place unless all members were present. No matter, Mallok was well prepared for his antics. He had spent months training a select group of servants on the Seers powers and methods, and only these select few were permitted to have contact with the Seers. Meanwhile, all the other members of the staff were under strict instructions to avoid having any contact with them, and everyone who entered the castle was instructed to dress in long-sleeves and gloves until further notified.
“Ahh, our honored host has finally decided to join us.”
Cato stood from his seat, presenting Mallok with his gloved hand. At least he’s following the rules, Mallok thought taking the Seer’s hand into his own gloved hand. Plastering on his best fake smile, he returned the greeting begrudgingly. “Cato, so sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Nonsense boy,” the booming voice of Elymas joined in. Raising a mug full of beer, he smiled, “we had plenty of food and drink to keep us entertained while we waited.”
Releasing Cato’s hand, Mallok nodded and continued around the table to take a seat. Marko followed but remained standing immediately behind him.
“Boy? Really Elymas, he is older than you are,” Serefina chided. Turning her gaze from Mallok, she refocused her attention on Marko with a sweet smile, “That one however…”
“Is my second in command,” Mallok interrupted, narrowing his eyes in warning. Serefina’s reputation for using and coercing men into doing her bidding put even Kahjoul’s to shame, “And is off limits.”
“Serefina, it seems you have been shut down.” Brink cackled.
Ignoring him, Cato leaned forward, placing his knobby elbows on the edge of the table. “What happened to that other fiery fellow? Oh, what was his name?”
Mallok watched out of the corner of his eye as Marko shifted uncomfortably behind him. Everyone at this table knew Aidan’s name. After all he was the one who ran Lanoria during his absence and single handedly prevented the Council, under the direction of Cato, from gaining control over his people.
“Aidan,” Mallok ground out, emphasizing the name, “is retired and relishing a life free from the trivialities of bureaucracy. He deserves that much after all he has done for me and his people.” Mallok paused, gesturing for Marko to take the seat beside him. “Marko here is his son and an asset in and of himself.”
Once Marko was seated, Mallok signaled a nearby server, who quickly reappeared with a glass of wine for them both. “Now, shall we begin with the business at hand?”
“Let’s do,” Elymas agreed, straightening in his chair. “But first, may I ask where the guest of honor is? Will she not be joining us?”
“I am afraid Kahjoul, or K as she seems to want to be called, is not being entirely cooperative. And since the binding crystal and the blocking bands only have a limited effect on her abilities, I think it’s safer for us all if she remains isolated inside the boundary spell until the trial begins.”
“She has changed her name… again?” Elymas asked, pausing with his mug halfway to his lips. “Does that mean her memory has been lost as well? Because I will tell you now that I am growing tired of punishing this girl when she cannot recall the crime she has committed.”
“Memory intact or not, she still attacked ano
ther member of the Council and must be punished,” snarled Cato.
Serefina, feigning boredom, leaned back in her chair, casually inspecting her perfectly manicured nails. “Her bouts of amnesia do seem to strike at awfully convenient times, don’t you think?”
“Her memory is intact,” Mallok snapped, with slightly more venom than he had intended.
Biting the inside of his mouth, he paused to calm himself before he said something that would make the situation worse. It had always bothered him the way certain members of the Council viewed and treated Kahjoul as if she were beneath them, someone who would never be able to equal their caliber of greatness. In their eyes, she was no better than a wild beast, impossible to tame but with the right type of persuasion, could be forced into submission when necessary. And so, from the first moment she stepped before them so many centuries ago, weak and afraid, with no idea what she was or what she had the potential of becoming, they had begun to plant seeds of self-doubt in her mind. Day after day, month after month, year after year, they continued to force feed her lies that would keep her obedient by causing her to question her own self-worth, and all because they feared her. Feared that if she ever did discover the truth, she wound realize how irrelevant the lot of them actually were.
However, despite all the pitfalls, Mallok still believed in the underlying principle behind the Council; that a system of checks and balances was necessary to ensure that no one person would ever hold too much power. After all, the whole idea had been his to begin with. But even so, he would be damned if he was going let them take complete control of this trial.
Taking a calming breath, Mallok continued. “She remembers… that much I do know. However, we have bigger issues we need to address.” Already regretting what he was about to tell them and dreading the conversation that was to follow, Mallok paused to guzzle the contents of his wine glass.
Forsaken (The Shadow Chronicles Book 3) Page 5
