The face that looked back at her was hardly recognizable. She had washed away all the dye from her hair, so at least the color was now right, but it was piled so precariously on top of her head that she was afraid to move too fast and ruin the hard work of yet another maid. She was comfortable in her battered soft tunics and riding leathers, not all made up so that she was afraid she would mess something up if she moved.
Suddenly she squinted her eyes in the mirror and leaned towards it, brushing the few strands that had escaped the elaborate masterpiece on her head to the side. She grasped at the skin her of her neck, trying to stretch it to the middle so she could see her mark more clearly. She didn’t get much chance to look at it, but her eyes widened as it came into view. It was definitely spreading. Spiral tendrils were snaking out around it, encircling her neck. Hastily she grabbed for the make-up on the table and dabbed even more over it. This couldn’t be good…
She put the make-up down and sighed. There wasn’t much more she could do about it at the moment. Hopefully she could find Gryffon and get him alone for a few moments to talk about it. Aileen’s mysterious demeanor made Layna uncomfortable talking to her, especially when she seemed so suspicious of Layna’s ability to withstand the magic behind it, and really other than her and Charles, Gryffon was the only other person in this strange land that she knew.
She left the mirror and wandered out of her room. The castle was huge, and Layna had to memorize how many turns she had taken in order to have any clue as to how to get back to her rooms. Luckily there were plenty of servants all over the place who were very helpful, but she felt so uncomfortable talking to them.
Not only was she from Gelendan - and everyone seemed to be aware of this fact - but though really she was one of them, she was being treated like a noble would be. It resulted in an odd mixture of emotions that Layna couldn’t begin to describe but basically made her an outcast to both upper and lower class since here she was not really a member of either group.
There was definitely less of a distinct difference here than in Gelendan between classes, but in any situation where there were people who performed services for others, there was bound to be some friction.
Layna focused her thoughts on where she was. She’d taken two rights and a left, another left and she should be…yes, at the library. Layna smiled. It was piled high with books, more than she had ever seen in one place before, and despite the awe she felt at its impressive size, she still felt more at home here than anywhere else.
She picked out a book and made her way with it over to the window alcove where couches were provided to read in. There was an expensively dressed woman already there reading who looked up at Layna as she approached. Layna smiled at her, and the woman smiled back and nodded to her before lifting her spectacles back in front of her eyes and continuing her own reading.
Layna settled in and glanced out the window. She was surprised to see Gryffon down in the courtyard, talking to a pretty woman. She felt a pang of jealousy as they shared a smile and the woman touched Gryffon’s arm in an affectionate gesture.
Her observation was interrupted by a young man’s voice, “My lady,” he queried and Layna’s attention was drawn expectantly to the woman sitting with her. The woman glanced up from her book, but rather than address the boy, she simply sat and watched Layna, finally giving her a little jerk of her head towards the boy. Layna looked at him in confusion and realized that he was speaking to her.
“Oh, sorry. Yes?”
“The Ieldran has called a meeting to hear your news, if you could come with me please?”
Layna glanced out the window and was pleased to see that Gryffon’s moment had been interrupted by another messenger as he must be receiving similar news. Layna turned her attention back to the boy and nodded, getting up and returning the unread book to its proper place on the shelf.
He led her around the maze of hallways with an ease that amazed her, and when she had been fully turned around so badly that she could not have found her way back to her room if her life depended on it, they came to the audience hall.
He opened the door for her and ushered her inside. She saw that Gryffon had beaten them there and she thanked the boy and hurried over to sit next to him. He greeted her with a smile.
“How has Treymayne been treating you?” he asked her as she took a seat.
“The library has been treating me fantastically, other than that I’m ashamed to say I haven’t seen much of anything. It’s a little overwhelming,” she admitted.
“Sorry I haven’t been a proper host to you, I’m afraid that much of my time has been occupied between relating news and catching up with people I haven’t seen in a year. I promise soon I’ll give you a real tour.”
“That would be most appreciated.”
Their conversation was interrupted as the Ieldran came in and took their places. The Triumvirate, the three that Gryffon had described as having more influence than the rest, took the three centermost seats and the rest filed in around them. It looked to be about twenty members in all and Layna fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat. She had never before been in a room with so many important people. These were like the King here. Though she had been around plenty of higher-ups who passed through Jezebel’s household, never before had they had any reason to pay any attention to her. It was making her nervous. Not to mention the fact that she could hardly breathe anyway in this dress.
The centermost man stood and addressed the group. “Thank you for joining us. We have a number of issues to discuss today.” He looked down at the paper before him. “Let’s start with the report from Lord Gryffon and our honored guest, Ms. Layna Nyx.” He looked around, his eyes searching for Gryffon who stood and the man’s eyes rested on him and he nodded, giving Gryffon leave to speak.
Gryffon related their news once again, and the council paid rapt attention. When he was finished, there was silence for a moment.
“Lady Jezebel you say?” commented one of the three.
Gryffon nodded.
“That brings us to our second important news. As most of you on the council know, we have been on a welcoming mission to meet the new emissary from King Nathair.” He glanced at Gryffon and raised an eyebrow. “Interestingly, it is none other than Lady Jezebel.”
The man gave Gryffon a look, searching his face for some sign of dishonesty and Gryffon’s eyebrows rose. He glanced over at Layna who shrugged her shoulders.
The man continued, “You have seen fit to ignore your direct orders, take part in the dissolving of the barrier without first consulting the council, and possibly put other agents in danger by coming here to bring forth accusations against the first emissary we have seen from Gelendan for hundreds of years. Obviously this requires some discussion. If you would excuse us please,” he directed this to Layna and Gryffon who absented themselves from the room.
Once they were outside of the chamber, Gryffon turned to her. “Jezebel? I thought she was dead?”
Though Layna’s cheeks burned with the accusation that could have come through with those words, she heard nothing but confusion in his voice. “I don’t know…like I told you, she was ripped apart by her hounds, but I guess I never actually went over and checked to make sure, you know? And that would certainly explain why you have the life-sucker still.”
“Well, this should be interesting,” he commented ominously.
*
Katya was bored.
She had learned quite a bit about Karl from her surveillance and had gotten a great deal of amusement out of his reaction to her escape. She had also gotten immense enjoyment by taunting him; sending him tokens of her interference in his life. She had sent him her broken collar once she had sucked all of the power from it and she left a nasty little present from Marak in it as well. He had disappointingly been smart enough to check it for traps and therefore avoided the pain spell he would otherwise had gotten a full dose of, however.
She didn’t bother being all that careful about the use of her p
owers either. The priests were too busy putting on displays to generate support of magic throughout the populace to be wasting much energy searching out a few rogue spells here and there. And besides, it wasn’t like she had a life they could ruin. She was a shadow, all she had to do was fade into the darkness.
She had made it a game to flit in and out of Karl’s life, popping up where he least expected it and his nerves had been on the brink of fraying when news of Jezebel’s reappearance had spread. Now he was simply scrambling around, more interested in finding out what she had been doing to be any fun, and Katya was quickly losing interest in the game.
Perhaps it was time to pay him a visit.
She grabbed a loaf of bread off a vendor’s cart as she passed and was out of sight before the man realized it was gone. She slunk through the alleys and pulled off a chunk of the bread, popping it into her mouth.
Normally she would contemplate a course of action and plan every possible outcome, but as her new self she felt like being spontaneous. So she wound through the streets to Karl’s manor. She knew he would be in the sitting room by now, pouring over reports he was too dull to make any sense of and planning his next pointless scheme.
She walked straight to the front door and knocked. One of the maids she knew to be called Mary opened the door. The girl’s eyes opened wide in terror as she recognized Katya.
Katya smiled. Obviously news of her escape had already spread throughout the servants. They didn’t know much about who she was or what she did, but they knew enough to be frightened.
Mary turned to flee and Katya reached out to her, making a bridge between them which Marak used to dart across and bite the girl on the shoulder. She let out a soft “oh!” and crumpled into a limp heap.
Katya caught her falling body and propped her up against the wall. The girl would wake in a few hours with nothing more than a headache. Marak had all sorts of neat tricks in his bite.
Katya had convinced Karl that it would be wise of him to let her magick the band into the killing machine that he was - the perfect partner to her as Karl’s assassin. She had even discovered how to inject a sickness into people that with regular visits could cause them to slowly waste away until there was nothing left and no one was ever the wiser as to the reason for their deaths. Karl had particularly liked that one, and thought of it as his own personal plague whenever he sent her out to use it.
She snarled. Thoughts of him using her further fueled her hatred and she quickened her pace towards the sitting room. The intensity of the emotion overcame her, and she wanted nothing more than to see him dead.
Another servant had the misfortune of rounding a corner in front of her and she punched him hard in the face. Blood sprayed out from his broken nose, and Katya plowed on. She reached the sitting room door and flung it open.
As she had expected, Karl was sitting behind his desk and he looked up in alarm as the door slammed up against the wall.
The muscles in his jaw tightened and he inadvertently let a surprised gasp escape.
“Why hello, Karl,” she drawled to him, slowing now that her target was in view. She felt another happy rush. Normally she didn’t enjoy playing with her prey before killing it - but this was a special case.
He didn’t bother answering, but dived for a drawer in his desk from which he withdrew a strange-looking object. Magic emanated from it and Katya knew that though Karl had little talent himself, he had more than enough money to buy himself much more powerful magical objects triggered to his command.
She eyed the thing warily as he waved it in front of him.
He could be bluffing.
She decided to play it like he was, and she laughed at him.
His hand faltered and her smile broadened. “You think you can stop me?” she mocked him, and she took a slow step towards him. “You may not have let me develop my talent in very many ways, but there is one thing I’m very, very good at.” She paused and took another step closer, bending her head to him and lowering her voice as if telling him a secret. “Do you know what that is, Karl?”
He didn’t answer.
“Killing people,” she whispered, and then she lunged at him.
He threw the object at her and it hit her hard in the chest. Pain exploded from the spot and radiated outwards through every nerve in her body.
Apparently he hadn’t been bluffing. She didn’t let the agony it caused slow her in the least, however, and she leaped over the desk and landed lithely beside him. He didn’t even have the chance to pick himself up out of the chair, and she reached out a hand to lay it on his shoulder to allow Marak easy access.
As her hand made contact she got a sudden jolt which made her grind her teeth together in frustration. The object had weakened her barriers, including those which kept out Karl’s filthy mind, and at her touch, his thoughts invaded hers once more. She recoiled immediately, hissing out a breath.
Marak was already on him, however, and Karl’s knuckles were turning white clutched against the arms of his chair, his breathing coming in short spurts.
He knew he was dead.
Katya let out a disgusted breath and growled to the waiting serpent, “Kill him.”
Karl squeezed his eyes shut as Marak’s tiny fangs bit deeply into the pulsing vein on the man’s neck. The blood pumped wildly in his intense fear, making them stand out and giving Marak an easy target.
Two miniature red rivers started oozing down his neck and his head slumped as the veins that had been popping out moments before lost their pressure and stopped altogether as the heart that fed them slowed and died.
Katya stood there staring at his lifeless corpse for a long time, heedless to the commotion in the hallway. The pleasure she had derived from his death had been less than she had imagined.
But she was no longer left without a purpose in life. In her unwanted contact with him, all his thoughts had been focused directly on her, and therefore she had been subjected to all of the lies she had been told throughout the years. But she had also been given the key to finding the truth, and she meant to find it.
As the guards finally made their way barging into the door, all they saw of Katya was the curtains blowing in the wind from the open window.
*
Nathair felt the flux in the power immediately. He sat straight up in his chair, and cocked his head to the side; a physical reaction to his inner sight ‘listening’ for another ripple of power. He could feel it strongly. It tasted like his Layna, but it wasn’t.
He sent out a probe. It came up against a formidable barrier of mind-shields that refused to yield, and his eyebrows rose in admiration. This one is strong. But whoever it was, they weren’t bothering to shield their power-use. He watched for a few moments longer, and put a mental tag on the person so that he could easily find them again, even if they weren’t using magic at the time.
He felt another momentary twinge that he had needed to send Devon along to supervise Jezebel. He could use the man’s expertise here, but if Jezebel’s memory returned there was no telling how she might react. Her body had healed miraculously fast, and he was uncertain that his own spells could stop the flow of memories should the mind repair itself and try and reconnect with the missing parts. Devon needed to be there to rein her in if she got too out of control.
Instead, he called one of his elite guards into the room with a thought. The man entered the room at once and came to kneel next to him. Devon was still the man’s superior in most aspects, but he did come close to his expertise in the areas he needed. Close enough that Nathair was confident he could handle the particular task he was about to set out for him.
“I have a job for you,” he told the guard and the man nodded dutifully. “There is a specific person who I want you to follow. I will spell this stone,” he held up one of the stones that he kept on his desk for occasions such as these, “to glow and warm to the touch when you are approaching the one it’s attuned to. It may take some getting used to using it, but once you do it will be a
ble to lead you directly to them. Once you have identified who the person is, you will then contact me via the stone and I will give you further instructions. Do you understand?”
“Yes, My Liege.” The man bowed his head and Nathair nodded.
“Good. Wait a moment outside while I prepare the stone for you and then you will begin straight-away.”
When the man had left, Nathair drew upon the Bloodstone around his neck to enchant the other. It had taken some time to coax the stone into allowing him access to its great wealth of power, but once he had done so he was able to freely draw upon it at will.
“What an interesting new development,” his mother’s voice cut through the silence in his chambers.
Her presence was beginning to irritate him. “Must you keep popping in like this?”
“Is that any way to treat your mother?” At his silence, she continued, “So what will you do if you get a hold of both girls, have them fighting over your affections?”
Though this prospect didn’t displease him, the mocking tone in her voice kept him from answering affirmatively and he turned his back to her to concentrate on spelling the stone. It took little effort to do, especially with the power added from the Bloodstone, and in no time he was finished.
He looked up from his work, and found his mother staring at him, a smile dancing across her features. He scowled at her and sent a link to the guard to alert him to his readiness. The man returned an instant later and Nathair spelled out his instructions again, entrusting the stone to him.
When the man was on his way, Nathair turned his attention back to his mother who was busily picking dirt out from beneath her fingernails behind his desk. “Don’t you have anything else to be doing?” he asked her rudely.
Those Who Fear the Darkness (BloodRunes: Book 2) Page 11
