It came at him suddenly, hissing, and it threw its arms out which burst into flaming wings. The thing hit him, sending him reeling backwards from the force and his head smashed into the wall with rattling impact. As he staggered against it, stars dancing before his eyes, the creature shrunk down to nothing becoming wraith-like and was sucked into the stone embedded in his chest.
It was gone.
“Mother of God,” he swore softly to himself.
Then he smiled. What irony in this phrase.
He touched the scar on his cheek again. Perhaps he would heal it. He gathered the power about him, and paused.
Perhaps later.
He would have to look into this odd development, to determine why this beast had been here parading as his mother. Maybe it’s your mind playing tricks on you, a voice inside him said, but he shook it aside. The thing was gone now, his god-stone had eaten it up, so he could worry about it later.
Now he would concentrate on his Layna. He wondered how she had gotten to Treymayne. And how the man had survived. Hadn’t he been the one who had been transported into the killing chamber of the tombs? He had so many questions to ask her once she was his.
It was a good thing that he had blocked those memories from Jezebel. Seeing the two of them would probably have driven her insane otherwise. She had been quite single-minded about her obsessive revenge.
He stiffened as he heard a rustling in the outer room. Taking the two strides to the door swiftly, he peered into his office for the source of the disturbance.
A man stood there, draped in a black robe. Nathair stared at him, and dark eyes met his steadily.
“Who are you?” he demanded, measuring the man with his gaze and his mage-sight, but as he opened himself to the latter, he was met with a shock.
To his magic, this man wasn’t there.
“Are you another product of my imagination?” he hazarded.
The man remained silent.
“Speak!”
The man raised a hand, and it blotted out the light. As Nathair’s world was plunged into darkness, he felt many hands upon him and he tumbled into unconsciousness.
*
Jezebel stormed around in her suite, picking up random items and throwing them at walls. There was no way she could sleep after such an insulting meeting with the King. How dare he call on her so late and then just leave her like that! Who did he think he was? Her infuriated pacing soon became less frantic, and she focused her thoughts on something more pleasant to distract herself.
Her mind wandered to the blond girl she had witnessed smiling at the man Gryffon. She’d had Devon look into the girl and found, much to her amusement, that she could be useful in several ways as she was the daughter of one of the Triumvirate, Baron Thebius. Not only that, but she had also deliciously been engaged to Gryffon. That would certainly explain why the other girl was feeling a bit threatened. Jezebel had already arranged for the two of them to have a luncheon and had now only to find a way to use her against the girl she had such strong unexplained hatred for.
Despite her initial anger, it was soon overtaken by exhaustion and Jezebel climbed back into bed. In the morning, she decided that she would put her plan with the blond girl into motion as the hatred she felt towards the girl with Gryffon was getting stronger by the minute, and inexplicable jealous thoughts kept sneaking into her head.
Lady Aria was already in the gardens when she arrived, sitting at the table that had been set up for the two of them. “Gorgeous day out isn’t it?” the woman exclaimed appreciatively, taking a deep breath of fresh air.
“Indeed,” Jezebel humored her, not bothering to look around herself, “Thank you for joining me, I find that I am a tad home-sick lately and needed the company of a non-political nature.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Lady Aria leaned back from the table a bit to let the servant place the food in front of her. Jezebel didn’t bother to follow suit and she kept her eyes glued to Lady Aria who was now inhaling the fragrance of the food. The woman certainly enjoyed smells.
“It smells delicious, Jason, thank you.”
Jezebel was confused by this comment for a moment, and followed Aria’s gaze to see that the servant was still standing there beaming down at Aria’s compliment.
“Oh,” Jezebel added, “Yes, thank you.” He bowed to both of them and retreated.
“So what do you think of it here,” Aria asked her, picking up her utensils and cutting a dainty portion off, “is it much different than Gelendan?”
“Not nearly as much so as I had expected.” Jezebel took a bite of her own food and politely chewed and swallowed before continuing. “Everyone has been so friendly, I really have no complaints, it’s just not…” she paused, seemingly unable to express her feelings.
“Home?” Aria gave her a sympathetic grin.
“Yes, and I feel as though I have to walk on eggshells around everyone, that either they are waiting for me to suddenly forget myself and have a different agenda, or that someone’s waiting for me to slip up with something silly just for the amusement of it.” She sighed.
“I know how you feel,” Aria commiserated, “ever since my father’s been on the council, and especially the last few years, I’ve felt the pressure to be politically correct as well, even though really it has nothing to do with me.”
“Oh? Which one is your father, perhaps I’ve met him during one of the audiences.”
“I’m sure you have, he’s one of the Triumvirate. Baron Thebius.”
“Really!” Jezebel exclaimed, feigning surprise, “I had no idea. He’s a very solid man, I liked him, he seems to have a good head on his shoulders. And, he raised such a nice young lady.”
Lady Aria laughed, taking Jezebel by surprise. It was not the reaction she had expected. “Well, I don’t know about that.” The woman winked at her! “But he did the best he could by himself. My mother died when I was very young. It’s been just the two of us for most of my life.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that,” Jezebel took another bite to give herself a moment. “My own mother passed away when I was in my teens. I practically raised my dear little sister.”
“Are you very close with your father?” Aria had a teary-eyed look. “My father and I really bonded over the tragedy. It was the one good thing that came out of it. We used to do everything together.”
Jezebel pounced on this opportunity. “We were,” Jezebel let her voice waver just a bit as she put emphasis on the ‘were’ and her own eyes watered as she bit her lip harshly enough to sting. “I actually just got the news while I was here that…that…”
“Oh no,” Aria looked horrified. “I’m so sorry! Are you travelling back soon?”
“I can’t,” Jezebel let her face harden into stone again, making it look as though it was difficult to do so. “I am here representing my country, I can’t very well let a personal problem interfere. There is much more at stake here.” She raised her napkin to dab at her eyes, “But come, let us speak of other things to get my mind off it.”
Aria looked doubtful, but did not argue. “What’s it like in Gelendan?”
“Much the same as it is here. We have many ruins that are a testament to how it was during the golden times, as I’m sure you have here, that have become some of our greatest treasures. We have a museum in Naoham, the capital, which holds many of the artifacts that were found in them. Many are so valuable that the guards for the museum I believe may even outweigh those of the royal treasury!” She paused, looking uncomfortable, “You wouldn’t try and -“ she shook her head, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be -”
Aria reached over and touched her hand gently, “Not to worry, today it’s just us girls. My lips are sealed.”
“Well,” Jezebel started with a mischievous smile, “just between us girls then, what’s going on with you and that mouth-watering young man Gryffon?” She fairly had to spit out the compliment for the awful man, but the woman didn’t seem to notice.
Aria giggled.<
br />
Jezebel threw down some more bait. “I don’t know how much you know about what he was doing in Gelendan,” she paused for Aria to fill in the answer to the unasked question.
“Nothing,” Aria wrinkled her nose, “Again, that’s one of those things I try not to get involved in.”
Jezebel smiled, satisfied. “For a long time I took him into my home and allowed him to work off a rather large debt he owed me,” she supplied from information that Devon had finally filled her in on, though why he didn’t tell her when the two first appeared she didn’t know. “At the time I thought that it was for his dying mother, which of course I had a soft spot for. Only now do I realize that it was a ruse for an excuse to get close to my father, who just like yours, is - was” she let another tear form and sniffled, “very important and has a lot of very delicate information.”
Aria did not seem inclined to comment, but gave her a sympathetic look.
“Anyway, that’s getting a bit into politics, I’m sorry. My point was that he spoke very highly about a girl he had had to leave. Thinking upon it now, I believe that girl is you. He seemed quite attached to her, and indicated that he felt he had made a mistake leaving her.”
Aria looked thoughtful. “I was under the impression that his affections now lay with Layna who traveled with him here.” She shook her head. “Besides, I’ve moved on. It was a childish romance.”
Jezebel bristled at the girl’s name. “What, that girl?” she refused to say the name herself, and struggled to keep her tone even. “She was a maid in my household, and no doubt she’s smitten with him, but I’ve never heard Gryffon speak of her with any intention other than as a friend. She’s much too low-born to have any real hold on a man of Gryffon’s standing. I think,” Jezebel leaned back in her chair, “that you still have feelings for this man, and he obviously does for you. Now that he’s back…” she gave Aria a teasing look.
“I don’t know…even if that were true, Layna is such a sweetheart…”
Jezebel bit back the nasty comment that sprang to her lips, blood welling up in her mouth from the force which was required to do so. “It would do her a favor as well, allow her to see the uselessness of chasing after something she can’t have, and she’ll be able to move on with her own life.”
Aria still didn’t look convinced, but Jezebel could see plain as day that the seed had been planted, and it was only a matter of time before the woman would act upon it. She let the subject drop. “Alright, alright enough teasing. Keep it in mind though. Now, did I hear something about a play being put on tonight?”
CHAPTER 11
A loud thundering boom caught Katya’s attention and she paused curiously. She cocked her head to the side and listened to the now-still forest.
The sound crashed again.
Then again, rhythmically.
She focused with her talent and saw with surprise that the noise was being caused by huge amounts of power being released over and over at semi-regular intervals. Not able to contain her curiosity, she altered her path to intercept the sound and resumed her running again.
As she approached the source, she saw in the distance the flickering of a campfire and she slowed to go unnoticed. She drew nearer and the sound of raised voices broke through the night - someone was arguing over the crashing. She crept closer still until she could make out the words.
“He’s going to break out!” a frantic-sounding voice fairly shrieked. That explained the power - someone must be trying to break some kind of bond that held him - though a bond that could withstand that kind of bashing was impressive.
“They said he couldn’t,” disagreed another, though his voice was quaking, betraying the lack of conviction he had in his own words.
“They said it was impossible for him to be here at all and yet there he is,” retorted the first, the statement dripping with sarcasm.
“Well, what do you want me to do about it now?” asked the other, anger evident in his tone. “Shall we just let him go and hope that he spares us out of gratitude for changing our minds about keeping him? Sorry we locked you up - our mistake, please don’t kill us? Something tells me he’s not in the mood to forgive any of us right now.” Another thunderous crash punctuated his statement as if on cue. The other was silent. “They said they’d take care of it.”
“And so we shall,” a third voice spoke up, and a cloaked figure stepped out of the shadows and into the firelight. The fitful flickering made it difficult to make out his features, and even more disconcerting to Katya was that she had been unaware of his presence until he had spoken. There were not many who could sneak up on her, and as she probed him with her talent she was realized that to her magic this man was invisible. She prudently decided not to underestimate this group. The man had said ‘they’.
Sure enough, moments later, another figure emerged and the two invisibles entered the tent farthest from Katya. With infinite care, she slunk around the makeshift camp until she was within hearing range of the tent.
“You really have been a bit of a nuisance to us,” one of them said presumably to their captive, who for the moment had stopped its wild onslaught of unleashed power. The captive declined to answer. “Tsk tsk. What are we going to do with you?” the man continued rhetorically.
“Look at this,” said the other, and Katya dearly wished she could see inside. A huffed sigh came from the tent.
“Damn,” the man swore. “Can we remove it?”
A muffled moan escaped from the captive and Katya edged sideways to get a better angle to see in through the tent flap. If only they’d open it a little farther so she could see.
“No use.” The pained groaning ceased. “Will the restraints hold against it?”
“We will have to hope so.”
As they pushed aside the flap to leave, Katya was astonished to recognize the captive.
It was the King!
Katya retreated into the forest with haste. Just who were these invisible men? Keeping to the deep shadows of the trees, she kept a close eye on the two until she was sure that they had really left the campground once again, leaving the two incompetents in charge - much to their obvious chagrin. They grumbled to one another for a while before apparently deciding that they may as well go to sleep.
Katya sent a cautious tendril towards the tent. As it penetrated its innards, the thrashing which had resumed upon the invisibles’ exit, immediately stopped. Katya tensed, ready to bolt should the King try and overcome her through the probe. But his touch was gentle, almost like a caress, in stark contrast to the immense anger behind his attempts to escape. The touch felt strangely familiar, though Katya had never before actually met the man.
His two guards were snoring loudly and Katya carefully slipped into the tent, mindful of the fact that the two invisibles could potentially appear unannounced at any moment.
She was on edge as she perched herself in front of the King, who was chained like a dog by the collar around his neck which dangled a long chain tied to a stake in the ground. Marak felt tense on her arm, and the logical part of her brain screamed at her, what are you doing? Get out of here!
Her eyes locked with the King’s and they sat there in silence for some time. Then a smile spread across his face, and he visibly relaxed. “Fate,” she thought she heard him whisper, but it was too faint to be sure.
He was a magnificent creature, even bound as he was and Katya couldn’t help but feel appreciative of his form. Though there was something different about him. His eyes looked more cat-like than she remembered and his skin had a darker tone. Subtle, but noticeable to her heightened perceptions.
“Why?” she asked him simply, knowing that he would understand she was asking about his captivity.
“Power,” he answered just as simply, and strangely unconcerned for one in his position. “I have it, they want it.”
On impulse, she grabbed the stake in the ground he was attached to and yanked. She couldn’t stand the sight of the collar. She grunted and pulled wi
th all her might.
“I appreciate the sentiment, my dear, but I’m afraid it’s no use. It’s quite solidly magicked there.” He cocked his head at her. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been asking myself that same question. This isn’t my problem.”
The King surprised her by laughing. “No, I suppose it’s not. But we are intertwined you and I, so perhaps that’s what has called you here.”
She raised an eyebrow skeptically.
“I see you are hesitant to believe this. We both bear the mark you see. It is meant to draw us together, so that we may populate the world with our combined offspring. I can tell that you are powerful, and you need only open your talent to see that I am godlike in my strength. Imagine what our children would be like. It will be as the world was meant to be. Look around us; weaklings, filth, unworthy. The time of the Sleeping God’s reawakening is near, and when he returns, only those who are worthy like us will be left. We need to take our rightful place now and prepare for his coming.”
It was a testament to the surprise she felt that her carefully controlled expression turned unwillingly into one of disbelief. She said very slowly, “You’re crazy.”
“Maybe so,” he agreed amicably, unruffled by her unflattering statement. “But if that’s the case, being crazy has gotten me the throne, and soon I will have even more.”
“Your prospects aren’t looking very bright to me,” Katya commented, glancing around the barren tent. He waved a hand in the air, still unfazed.
“Minor setback. They cannot control a god for long.”
“You keep referring to yourself as a god.”
He smiled again, showing pointed canines. “So I do. Think about it, by joining me you could take revenge on any who wronged you. Divine justice. I see how you reacted to this collar, you know what it is.” There was a hint of a question in his tone.
“I know what it is, and I also know what you’re doing with it. I’ve seen your armies, I know you are using the bracers to control them.”
Those Who Fear the Darkness (BloodRunes: Book 2) Page 16
