Those Who Fear the Darkness (BloodRunes: Book 2)

by Cole, Laura R

  “What is the meaning of this?” she demanded, trying to break free of their grasp unsuccessfully.

  “The council will apprise you of the situation,” the one who had spoken to her answered, but gave no other explanation.

  Jezebel ran down through the things they could possibly have found out and be bringing her to judgment for. And just as quickly came up with a perfectly reasonable explanation for each.

  As they reached the council’s chamber, the guards at the entrance opened it, the huge wooden doors creaking ominously. Inside, Jezebel saw that every seat was taken up and there was a vast mixture of emotions in the room written plainly on people’s faces, obviously too upset to bother masking them. And all were serious. Whatever this was, it was important. Could they have found out something from her past that she didn’t even know about yet? She needed that man - Devon.

  No sooner had she had this thought than she saw him, brought up behind her by another group of guards. The doors slammed shut behind them and the speaker of the council rose.

  “Extremely disturbing intelligence has recently come to our attention about the man in power in Gelendan.” He paused and his eyes searched her face, perhaps trying to gauge her reaction. But seeing as how she had no idea where he was going with it yet, he could see nothing but confusion she was sure. And she added an obviously annoyed scowl for his benefit. He continued. “What say you about the fact that your King has apparently declared himself a god and to prove this fact has just this morning rounded up and eaten all of the former members of the council as well as a hefty list of other prominent people?”

  Jezebel stared at him blankly. Eaten? What on earth is he talking about? Her confused look must have been easy to comprehend because the man elaborated for her. “He has somehow found a way to transform himself into a - a,” he seemed unable to make himself say the word, but finally spit it out, “a dragon.”

  Jezebel’s jaw dropped. He had managed to manifest himself as the true form of the Sleeping God? And he hadn’t included her in it? She felt familiar anger welling up inside her. That selfish, no-good, - her inner rant was interrupted as the speaker once again demanded an answer from her.

  “If I may interject,” Devon’s voice cut through the watery thoughts of her boiling rage and she felt another surge of affection for the man. “It seems as though we were lucky to have escaped his crazed state. Obviously he is not of sane mind anymore to have declared that he is a god when we know he is only mortal, and if he is killing off his council, which the lady here is part of…” he let the council members follow this train of thought themselves. This of course would lead them to think that she was a victim here. Unable to go home or face being eaten - as strange a thought as that was - and therefore stuck in a strange land while her home was being ruled by a madman. She put on her best helpless face to further this story, tickled by Devon’s ingenious thinking.

  The council seemed inclined to believe this. They whispered amongst themselves for a few moments, and Jezebel smugly shrugged off the confining hands of the guards. They allowed themselves to be brushed off, but did not move away. She glared at one of them. His expression didn’t change.

  Finally the council spoke again. “Your surprise at the news and probable truth to your manservant’s words may allow us to not press any charges against you. However, we hereby relinquish your rights as emissary as your King’s actions have clearly violated honorable conduct and until we can further investigate the matter you will have to be placed under supervision.” The guards took hold of her once more. “Seeing as your current suites are much too difficult to properly contain you given the fact that we need to presently employ our resources elsewhere, I regret to inform you that for the duration of the investigation you will have to spend in the dungeons.”

  “What?!” she fairly shrieked, the pitch of her voice grating even her own ears.

  The man winced, but whether it was because he was embarrassed at treating her so disrespectfully or simply because of her tone, she couldn’t tell. “Rest assured, you will not be treated like a common criminal mind you, but the seriousness of the crimes that your King has committed with you here as his representative…” he pursed his lips and held his hands out in a futile gesture before interlacing them before him.

  Jezebel sputtered, “How dare you!” She felt herself reaching for the channels of power that she knew weren’t there and only got more inflamed upon not finding them. “How dare you presume to lock ME up in a dirty prison cell! You had better not or I’ll, I’ll-“

  She felt a hand on her arm and she turned to give the newest guard a piece of her mind only to find that it was Devon. She stopped her tirade short and watched him as he slightly turned his head from side to side, obviously telling her not to lose it here. His touch was strangely calming and she took a few deep breaths. It would do no good to let them see her rage until she was in a position to use it.

  She nodded shortly to him and jutted her chin out to turn back to the councilmen. “My apologies,” she forced out through clenched teeth, “but you must understand my reaction as I have had no contact with my country for some time and therefore have no idea what is going on there. For all I know, you have cut off my communications and are making this story up!” She saw Devon shake his head again out of the corner of her eye and chose not to pursue this particular train of thought though the idea was tempting. She gave a small curtsy. “I will of course subject myself to this outrage so that you can convince yourselves of my innocence in this matter.”

  The councilman waved a hand and the guards holding her and Devon moved them quickly out. Jezebel could hear the commotion break out at their exit and she stomped along unhappily. Devon better not make her regret this.

  The guards led them through the hallways and Jezebel held her head high, ignoring the curious looks from the courtiers. If any dared make eye contact, she glared at them.

  She couldn’t wait to take over their puny little nation.

  They were led towards the gatehouse, where Jezebel was surprised that as they turned a corner they started to go up a flight of winding stairs. She had expected to be taken underground to a prison area, not up. They wound around and around, passing several heavily barred wooden doors on each level. The only windows were tiny slits in the outside walls, but from the glimpses of landscape beyond she could see that they were on the very edge of the palace.

  The guards finally stopped at one of the doors and used a large metal key attached to his belt to open it. Jezebel held her breath, preparing for the worst. The door swung open to reveal a tiny windowless room with several doors leading to what looked to be even smaller rooms beyond. The guards motioned for both her and Devon to go inside, and Jezebel followed after Devon with resignation, though the insult to her pride was nearly incapacitating.

  The lock clicked shut behind them and Jezebel found it impossible to move. She closed her eyes and stood motionless. After a few minutes, Devon cleared his throat.

  Jezebel sighed and opened her eyes. “Yes?” She inquired sharply.

  “I thought you might want to hear the information that came to me this morning.” He looked crest-fallen a moment, “I am sorry that I could not get to you in time to warn you that this might happen, but I determined that gathering all of the information that I could before we were cut off from any sources would be a better use of my time. Plus, your sincere reaction of surprise to the news no doubt played a large part in their judgment. I hope that I was not incorrect in assuming this?” He cringed a bit and Jezebel’s temper flared. He had known that this was going to happen and hadn’t bothered to let her know about it? She shook her head in disappointment at him and was rewarded by a miserable look. At least he had the decency to be ashamed of it.

  “Well, what did you learn while you were not warning me that I was about to be arrested and thrown into prison?”

  Devon looked down. “Well, it wasn’t just a story that they made up about the King. Apparently he has indeed foun
d a way to transform himself into dragon form and is claiming that he is the physical manifestation of the Sleeping God as a result. Yesterday he rounded up all of the members of the council and several key political figures - several of whom I know to have been in the Order - and he performed a public execution of them all.” He paused. “By transforming into his dragon form and eating them. From what I gather, it was not at all pleasant - as one might imagine. Then, it was reported that he took to the skies and was heading this way, towards Treymayne. Though he made no official declaration of war, the council is understandably concerned that he is coming to attack.”

  “Why would he do this?” Jezebel asked, “Last time we spoke he was still concerned with convincing them of the silly charade that he wanted to be friends. Why would he suddenly change his mind? And more importantly, how did he learn to change into a dragon? I don’t know of anyone who can transform into any kind of beast,” she paused for a moment, “Though I have had my suspicions that there may be some here who can do it that they are keeping from me. But even so, a dragon must be an enormous amount of energy.” She pondered this for a moment and Devon remained silent, patiently waiting for her to continue. “Might he have a store of energy that he can somehow be drawing upon, like a dungeon full of captives that he can drawn upon at will or something?”

  “How it happened is a complete mystery, the King seems to be working on his own, and yet everything he is doing one would think would require help. My sources report that for several weeks he was suddenly much more complacent to the council’s wills than he had been previously and then all of a sudden a dragon came winging into the courtyard and transformed before the people’s eyes into the form of the King declaring that he was a god.” Devon looked thoughtful. “There is the possibility that it is not the King at all anymore.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, if something or someone can transform itself into a dragon, we don’t want assume that they couldn’t also transform into the form of the King. It is possible and we are not even dealing with the same man any longer.”

  “Who is running the country if he just executed the council and then flew off on some unknown adventure?”

  “He apparently appointed his personal guards to that task as he stated that he was no longer in need of any protection, so it is currently under military control. The people are so terrified of this new development that he is unlikely to have any problems even if he is away for several days. I’d say he planned it quite well. The real mystery is why he is coming here.”

  “Why indeed.” Jezebel did not like being in the dark. “Perhaps he is coming to bring me back to help rule,” she said hopefully.

  “Or perhaps to finish the job of eradicating the council…”

  *

  Marak had been winding around her arm nervously all day and Katya looked to the sky, unable to shake the strange feeling that it something in it was menacing. The sun was shining brightly, however, with not a cloud anywhere in sight to cause such foreboding thoughts. It was just something in the air…Katya turned as footsteps approached where she was perched on the edge of the ship, and she nodded a greeting to Gryffon.

  “Feels like a storm despite all the sunshine, doesn’t it?” he asked her, a worried crease in his forehead.

  “It does,” Katya agreed, somewhat surprised to have him echo her own thoughts, “something doesn’t feel right.”

  Moments after the words left her mouth, the ship jerked suddenly, nearly throwing Katya off her perch and into the water below. She grabbed hold of the railing quickly and heaved herself back on board. Her boots hit the wooden deck roughly and she held out her arms to keep her balance as it continued to rock back and forth on unseen waves. She caught Gryffon’s eye and tilted her head while exhaling. I guess we were right.

  The deckhands were rushing topside now and shouting to each other. Some were spewing orders and treating it as if it was a real storm while others were yelling what seemed to be either prayers or curses at gods.

  All at once, a shadow loomed above them and Katya looked up just in time to see a gigantic shape swoop down at them before a huge roiling ball of fire engulfed the deck where she had been standing moments before. She hurled herself into Gryffon, and they both tumbled out of harm’s way, though they collided roughly with the other side of the boat.

  “What in the gods’ names was that?” Gryffon asked, so surprised by the attack that he didn’t even seem to notice the large bloody welt that had appeared on the side of his face.

  “It IS a god!” shouted one of the sailors before throwing himself screaming off the side of the ship. Several others followed suit, and people scrambled away from the growing flames.

  Katya and Gryffon locked eyes and said in unison, “Layna!” Katya pulled herself off of where she had landed on him and held out her hand to pull him up. Together they raced below deck, dodging the flames, and threw open the door to the room that Layna was being kept.

  The ship was suddenly jerked again, as though something very heavy had sideswiped it, and they grabbed the wall for support. Layna’s limp form was being rocked into a very uncomfortable looking position, but so far she was still on the bed and not looking too worse for wear.

  When the boat stopped moving long enough for letting go of the wall to be possible, Katya raced forward to grab their packs while Gryffon slung Layna over his shoulder as carefully as he could. They rushed back onto the deck where Katya almost ran straight into Gryffon who had stopped to gape at the scene before them.

  Half of the ship was completely gone, smashed apart by the beast’s attack, and water was quickly filling the gap. The pieces that were still intact were aflame, and the sailors had all but abandoned the sinking vessel. The most surprising part, however, was what had attacked them. Apparently having just finished its last pass at them, a dragon was winging its way upwards, obviously preparing to swoop down on them again. Katya was just as stunned as Gryffon.

  Dragons weren’t supposed to really exist!

  Katya’s feet slid forward a few inches as the ship creaked and tilted and she shoved Gryffon to remind him of the need to hurry. He got the hint and hastily glanced around, looking for something to use as a raft. Katya beat him to it, kicking over a barrel of fish to empty it before pounding the cover back into place giving them a make-shift floatation for Layna.

  They eased the barrel with Layna on it down into the water and dived in themselves moments before the dragon came back around once more. The heat from the flames that burst forth from its mouth was almost unbearable, made worse by the wind from its wing-beats fanning it towards them. Katya threw up every shield she knew how to cast around the three of them, but it was no good. She clamped her eyes closed against the burning pain and opened her mouth to scream, only to have her breath stolen as fire rushed down her throat, searing her on the inside. She could actually feel bits of her face charring and even the water that so far had protected the rest of her body was heating uncomfortably hot around her.

  Suddenly the beast’s mouth snapped shut, causing the flames to abruptly extinguish, and its head swung around so that one beady eye was towards them. Katya met the dragon’s eye momentarily and felt a shock of a strange emotion.

  It felt familiar.

  She didn’t have time to think about it though as it became all too apparent that its fire was not the only thing to fear from the beast’s head. It opened its massive jaws to reveal a terrifying set of dagger-sharp teeth and it roared thunderously at them. The sound alone was almost enough to cause Katya’s heart to stop beating of its own volition and she dove underneath the water to muffle the sound. Gryffon followed suit and together they dragged the barrel farther away from the dragon, praying to the Three that it wouldn’t pounce upon it.

  As they surfaced, Katya heard Gryffon whispering and saw as a golden glow was forming around Layna. She added her own strength to his shield, though she couldn’t help feeling it was a bit hopeless against such a creature, and spare
d a glance back at the beast. It was busy tearing the remainder of the ship apart. Half-perched on the still-floating pieces, and taking to the air as each sunk. It reminded her of a crow picking at the remains of a rabbit, and Katya suddenly had a lot more respect for what a rabbit must feel.

  They reached the edge of the water and clambered out, trying to blend into the under-brush. Once hidden, they turned and watched as the dragon ignited the last remnants of the boat and took to the air, letting out a final ear-piercing shriek before flying out of sight.

  Katya let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and looked at Gryffon. The cut on his face was flowing freely now, and his skin looked as burned as hers felt.

  She raised her hand to him and reached for the power to heal, but stopped as she felt his hand on hers.

  “Wait,” he whispered, “that thing nearly hummed with radiant magic, no doubt it can sense its use. We don’t want to draw its attention again while it’s still in its bloodlust and no longer distracted by the ship.”

  “You don’t think it really left?” she asked, withdrawing her hand.

  Gryffon gave her a pointed look. “I just don’t want to underestimate it. In case you didn’t realize, that-” he nodded towards the sky where the tiniest speck could still be seen, “was a dragon.”

  Katya was silent. Indeed it was. Instead of answering, she ripped a piece of cloth off her shirt and pressed it against his wound. He winced at the contact, but raised his hand to take charge of applying the pressure and Katya turned her own attention to Layna whose limp form was strewn rather haphazardly across the ground.

  She had sustained several cuts, and bruises were already visibly starting to form along her body - at least they were where they could be made out underneath the burns. Katya moaned.

  “She’s in bad shape,” she whispered, as though the volume of her voice would help diminish the seriousness of Layna’s condition.