Obsessed with his own thoughts, Gabriel claps his hands and summons a black unicorn to his side. The god leaps onto the powerful mount and digs his heels into its side, causing the beast to rear back and scream. With a thunderous clop of its hooves, the unicorn charges to the east and passes through the surrounding ice floes like a phantom. Ehre and Ram can only stare in wonder at their departing ally, neither of them knowing if they should follow or return to Ambervale.
“Yagervan Plains is to the south,” the Loyalty God finally says.
“Yes it is.”
“So how can he test Delvin if he is not going to the correct region?”
“Gabriel is certainly heading in the right direction.”
“To do what?”
“Looks like Mab is getting involved.”
“Who?”
Ram pats his companion on the shoulder and shudders at the memories blooming to the surface of his mind. “Just be thankful her beloved is not in the picture. If that . . . thing was still active then this entire prophecy would be thrown into mayhem. Damn Dawn Fangs have been trouble since they first showed up.”
*****
The continent of Shayd is unnaturally quiet as the demonic taskmasters and lurking undead rest beneath a powerful slumber spell. Huddled within their caves, the chaos elves diligently pray to Ambrosine for their kidnapped Queen’s safe return. Taking advantage of the situation, a few of the stronger workers continue toiling in search of food as lightning pelts the shadowy landscape. Holding back their joy and caution, they find that the nourishing roots are plentiful at a time when they should be rare. Surprised by her discovery, a young woman yells in excitement when she unearths a roasted turkey and cooked yams, which are untouched by the dirt that concealed them. More chaos elves venture out of their caves to explore the dark terrain and uncover foods that they only know from stories. For the first time in centuries, Shayd is filled with singing and laughter instead of screams and the cracking of barbed whips.
“Don’t you think you went too far?” Nyder Fortune asks from his perch on the black stone tower. The bald gnome adjusts his goggles to get a closer look at the chaos elves and their delicious finds. “That one just found a roasted dread boar and a bowl of cooked apples. I know you want to take care of the chaos elves while Trinity is away, but the master might not like all of this pampering.”
“He’ll be fine since he wants an heir from me,” Yola Biggs casually replies, the former goddess casting spells with her whipping, green hair. Her black and white body ripples with pride as she listens to the happy cries of her best friend’s people. “I heard that a woman can withhold sex if she wants something, so that is what I’ve done. More importantly, Arthuru wouldn’t want to risk me going away before he can replace Stephen. So I threatened to run away from home and I made sure to let him know that I meant it this time. Besides, I want Trinity to come home to healthy and happy people.”
“I’m not sure that sex thing is going to work,” Nyder states even though he is unsure of his own reasoning. A shudder shakes his body when he thinks too hard on the subject. “Also, I would prefer if you didn’t remind me about what you two are doing.”
“I know you’re listening, old gnome.”
“You can be heard all over the continent.”
“Isn’t that what the woman is supposed to do?”
“No . . . I think . . . Just use a silence spell and get pregnant already.”
“Oh, I forgot about that part. I should probably let that happen the next time.”
Nyder blinks his dark red eyes and groans as he turns away from the chaos elves. Wiping his greasy hands on his lime green shirt, he watches the strange creature before him try to walk. The metal girl takes a cautious step and shudders as her head wobbles, the seam around her neck nearly opening. Melanie shies away when the gnome approaches and pulls a mottled stone out of one of his sleeve pockets. Nyder rubs the rock to activate the heat enchantment and carefully runs it along the girl’s throat. Her polished skin melts over the seam and cools to give her head more support, but the ugly patchwork is temporary at best.
“It’s going to be more difficult to turn your head, but it won’t fall off,” Nyder assures the confused child. She tries to talk, but only manages to release the ear-wrenching grinding of metal. “No thanks necessary. Go see if Raksha has been revived and stay by the vat until the master visits you. Last thing you want is to fall apart in a hallway and not be found for several days.”
“Stephen really scared the master’s pets. I didn’t think Arthuru would be able to revive both of them,” Yola admits while she watches the metal girl stomp to the trapdoor. With a wave of her hand, she has the eternal storm drop sweet milk on the chaos elves. “Do you think Stephen will do the same to Trinity? Will I have to stitch her back together?”
“I hope not, but there’s no predicting him these days,” Nyder states as he takes a hollow pipe off his belt. He holds it over his head and hits a button to turn it into an umbrella moments before the falling milk washes over the castle. “Stephen wants something from Trinity, so he won’t kill her. That is unless he can get what he wants from Nyx. To be honest, Yola, I’m more concerned that he’ll break her and turn our dear Queen into a mindless husk. She’s been through enough in her lifetime and this ordeal seems . . . what is the word I’m looking for?”
“I believe you want to say unnecessary or cruel,” Baron Arthuru Kernaghan replies as he appears on the tower. The immortal nobleman is untouched by the strange rain, his ebony hair and short beard remaining immaculate. His blue shirt and black pants deflect the drops, but his bare feet step into the warm puddles as he joins his agents. “I find myself unable to disagree with you. My son’s actions have thrown everything into disarray. There has even been whispering that Gabriel is openly worried even though I know he planned for this event. Then again, I do not believe he expected Stephen to be so dangerous and unhinged. The Destiny God has finally unleashed a beast he cannot predict and now he scrambles to salvage his cherished prophecy before it is ruined.”
“Are you mad at me?” Yola asks, surprising the warlord with her question. “Nyder said you would be upset with me taking care of the chaos elves. I didn’t kill any of your demons or the undead. I’ll wake them as soon as Trinity is back or whenever you want me to do so.”
The Baron takes the woman’s hand and gives it a soft kiss, his genuine smile putting her at ease. “My dear goddess, I am not angry. In fact, I thank you for taking the burden off my shoulders. Though I would appreciate you telling them that it was I who asked you to create such delicacies in the absence of their ruler. I was considering putting them to sleep until Trinity was returned, but this is much more compassionate and kind. They will be stronger and healthier, which means I can use the chaos elves for something greater than labor. When you are not busy, I request that you go down to them and administer some healing magic.”
“You mean when we’re not having sex, right?”
“Please, Yola, I have asked you to be more discreet about our private life.”
“I thought men are supposed to gloat about their conquests.”
“The more crass and vulgar of my gender do, but you are a lady.”
Nyder cannot stop himself from chuckling. “Sorry, master, but you know why I couldn’t keep a straight face. In order to blatantly change the subject, are we going to do anything to save Trinity?”
The Baron sighs and peers into the distance, his vision coming to an end at the edge of Shayd. At first he thinks the subtle barrier that prevents him from spying on his son is part of his ancient prison. He has never tried to see beyond his borders without the use of a Chaos Void scrying pool, so there is no reason to assume the obstacle is anything new. When the Baron tries to push his senses through the invisible shield, he hears Stephen’s familiar laughter. The immortal warlord refuses to let his remaining agents know that he has been blocked by his crazed son, so he takes a deep breath and faces them with a warm smile. The glimmer
of worry in Nyder’s eyes tells him that the gnome is well aware of a problem, but will not reveal the embarrassing secret.
“I am afraid we have to leave this in the hands of Gabriel and his champions,” the Baron replies. He wiggles his toes and scowls at the sticky sensation of the milk-covered roof. With a whispered spell, he evaporates the liquid and covers his feet in polished boots. “I have given up on my son, which is why I am working with Yola to create a new heir. Let Stephen Kernaghan be saved or devoured by the path he has chosen. He is no longer one of my agents and I will send him no assistance.”
“Do you really think the latter will happen, master?” Yola curiously asks. She scratches her head with her foot, an action that turns off the strange rain. “The champions are not whole after what I did and he will try to kill one of the more dangerous ones in his first strike. I don’t think they stand a chance against your son in his crazed state. Maybe it would be best to let me handle him.”
“And risk him killing you now that you are no longer a goddess?” replies the warlord in a shocked and disgusted voice. He reaches out to tenderly caress the woman’s cheek, her skin squirming beneath his warm touch. “Both of you should trust my judgment, especially when you should be more concerned for my son than Queen Trinity. After all, he is the one in the most amount of danger.”
Yola and Nyder glance at each other, neither of them understanding their master’s final statement. They are aware that Stephen wants a child from Trinity, which is why he has kept her alive even after he became obsessed with Nyx. Yet she is still trapped in the hands of a madman who would gleefully turn her inside out at the slightest provocation. The more they think about the situation, the less likely it seems that their ally will be returned in one piece. Nyder cautiously glances at the sky, half expecting to see chunks of Trinity rain upon their heads and scatter across the desolate landscape.
“There are two reasons that my son has doomed himself,” the Baron declares as he pulls Yola into a gentle embrace. He stares into her kaleidoscopic eyes, his pupils aching from trying to focus on the dizzying display. “One is that he plans on controlling two channelers at the same time. My son will find them to be much stronger than he remembers since his last interaction with the ladies was prior to Casandra being awakened. They are a lot more dangerous now. Still, it is his other blunder that has the higher chance of leading to his downfall.”
“Threatening the prophecy and incurring the wrath of Gabriel?” Nyder says, figuring he has nothing to lose with a wild guess.
“He isn’t wearing a shirt, so he’ll catch pneumonia,” Yola states with confidence. Her bottom lip quivers in disappointment when she hears the gnome groan. “He’ll have Luke Callindor and Dariana trying to kill him as well as the channelers? Those two champions have already done physical and mental damage to him. It isn’t like he has to fear the one who ran away, which is something I forgot to tell you, master. Delvin Cunningham left the others because he became sad and weepy.”
The Baron smiles at the woman in his arms, her antics bringing him some joy at a time when he feels like he should be mourning the loss of a child. “You told me that four days ago, but thank you for reminding me. Still, none of those are the reason.”
“Then what is the reason, master?” asks the gnome with a bow.
“My fool of son is about to unknowingly threaten a mother and her child,” the immortal warlord calmly states. “Very few creatures are more dangerous than an enraged, protective mother.”
*****
With a filthy sleeve, Trinity wipes her mouth while the taste of vomit causes her to break into painful dry heaves. She has only been conscious for a day, but she feels like her body has been dragged across the globe and her dirt-covered shift helps make that thought more believable. The destroyed garment sticks to her cobalt-colored skin thanks to the tropical heat making her sweat. Trinity uses a nearby tree to hoist herself to her knees and grip the edge of a narrow stump. With a quivering hand, the young woman scoops some of the fresh rain water out of the hollowed wood and uses her magic to float every drop into her mouth. Her stomach settles enough for her to breathe comfortably, but it lurches again when she hears a gut-wrenching screech from behind a nearby thicket of palms. Forcing herself to stand, Trinity makes it a few steps before she falls to her knees and doubles over to retch onto the sand.
“Damn beast was useless!” Stephen shouts as he storms out of the thicket.
He tosses a long, red-scaled tail into the jungle and picks a blue dragonfly wing out of his ebony hair. The crazed immortal wipes at the blood on his bare chest, smearing the crimson liquid around instead of cleaning it off. He licks at his fingers and grimaces at the sugary sweetness, waving his hand to make all of the ichor splatter against a nearby rock. Stephen glances at his frayed pants and slaps them to repair the damage. The belt around his waist glistens as if new and an elegant longsword appears at his side, the presence of the weapon helping him push through his mental fog. As if seeing her for the first time, the madman kneels to examine Trinity’s battered, shuddering body.
“I should apologize now that I have had time to rest,” he says to the chaos elf as she bats his hand away. He catches the channeler by the hair and yanks her to her feet before cleaning her with a wave of his hand. “I know what you saw was distasteful, but I’m surprised you reacted so violently. That drite was not the first creature you have seen me torture. Not that it could tell me where our enemies are hiding.”
“Just because the champions travel with Fizzle, doesn’t mean every drite knows their location,” Trinity argues, leaning away as her companion sniffs at her neck. She tries to use her magic to create a comfortable bodysuit, but her power sputters after transforming the shift into a black tunic. “I can barely access my aura. What did you do to me?”
“Nothing, my little channeler. You are still weak from Yola’s accident,” Stephen replies while he runs his hand down her side. The rest of the chaos elf’s clothing appears, the sleeves and midriff dissolving in the breeze. “None of that is important because I want you to be there when I claim Nyx. I know I have been cruel to you and made you feel like you are nothing more than a temporary indulgence. So I decided to bring you with me and prove that you hold a special place in my heart. In fact, I will make sure that you give me my first daughter while Nyx gives me my first son.”
“I’d rather gouge out my own throat with a toothpick than bare your child.”
“Like that would stop me. I’d simply undo the damage before you die.”
“Then I’d raise the girl to despise you.”
“Well that does appear to be a Kernaghan tradition.”
Trinity slips from Stephen’s grasp and backs away toward the sandy shore. “You’re disturbingly happy for a man whose mind is scrambled. Did your father and Nyder fix you before you escaped?”
With a sadistic grin, the man reaches toward his companion, but he stops when something large smashes through the underbrush behind him. Stephen turns around to face the towering beast that resembles a bear with thick rhinoceros hide instead of fur. Sharp claws extend from its wide feet and its jaws telescope out a few inches with every threatening bite. A powerful roar shakes the island before the predator charges over the moist sand. The creature lunges for a strike, but crashes to the ground when Stephen calmly punches through its skull and yanks out its brain. With a casual yawn, he tosses the organ into the ocean and shrugs when the rising tide carries it back to shore.
“Guess the crabs will be happy for the meal,” Stephen states as he goes about dismembering the corpse. He carelessly tosses the parts around, several of them getting hurled over the trees. “It appears the little dragon had a friend. Probably supplied the beast with food from other regions since there is nothing on this island that could feed a predator of this size. Do you think we should keep any of it for food or should I let it rot?”
“I don’t care,” Trinity replies, fighting the urge to throw up at the sight of blood. “Just bring
me back to Shayd and we’ll get you fixed. It isn’t safe to challenge our enemies when you’re not in your right mind.”
“I disagree!” her companion bellows, moving to strike her across the face. He stops and turns the blow into playful tickle on her pointy ear. “Now is the perfect time to attack the champions and claim Nyx. Before I was weak and wasting my time with plans that would help my father’s dreams. Now my mind is clear of all distractions, so I can claim my true strength and fight for what I want. When we find the champions, I will strike with uninhibited fury and leave their battered corpses in my wake.”
“Don’t you want to make a show of it?”
“Forget that uselessness because I simply want to win.”
“There are different levels of winning. If you desire Nyx then a simple slaughter and kidnapping won’t do the trick.”
“Those are only the beginning.”
Trinity runs her finger along Stephen’s stubbled jawline and licks her lips, shuddering at the sour taste on her tongue. “Care to tell me more? I’m always a big help to you when we work together. I saved you from Luke Callindor when he gave you that neck scar. I helped you get home after Dariana scrambled your mind. Who else has always been there to take care of you in your times of need?”
“I have been there,” the man bluntly states with a glimmer of fury in his blue eyes. His fingers crack as he flexes them, both hands itching to tear into warm flesh. “You always stop me from killing a champion or breaking Nyx. One has to wonder if you are truly on my father’s side considering how often you have acted in their favor. Although, he seems to want this group to live longer their predecessors, so maybe he is the true traitor. That would mean your loyalty is only to him and having you with me is a risk. There is very little to stop you from contacting my father and convincing him to send Yola or a named demon to retrieve you. I will have to do something drastic to prevent that.”
Trinity takes a step away, but Stephen appears behind her to catch the woman in a rough embrace. She struggles for a few seconds before her energy is drained and she hangs limp in his arms. The immortal nobleman eases the groaning body to the ground, moving his hands onto her barely moving chest. He slips one finger through her shirt and into her skin, creating a hole of energy that gnaws on the intrusive digit. The pain runs up his arm and erupts from his back in the form of an invisible wave of energy that uproots a tree. Before the agony can break his fragile concentration, Stephen hooks his companion’s core and extracts a glowing tether that he jams into his own chest. Their raw energies merge as the line grows so thin that it is impossible to see with the naked eye.
The Mercenary Prince (Legends of Windemere Book 9) Page 2
