by Kade Cook
Cimmerian merely raises his brow and waves the Elder’s accusations away, his eyes skimming the table for any lingering gazes in his direction.
The Hydor Elder continues his rant. His body becomes more rigid and the knuckles in his fist whiten in his passionate speech. “Things must change, your eyes need to be awakened, and if I were the head of this table…”
A sudden shift in the air around the table brings the table to an eerie silence and everyone’s attention is drawn toward Vaeda. Having been patient with Caspyous, and letting him have his say for long enough, it is time to end his disrespectful rant, one that comes to an abrupt halt with the stifling intensity within his lungs.
“But, you are not head of this table, are you?” she hums, her words clear, concise, and in a controlled tone that reminds everyone of who is in charge indeed.
Gasping a bit for breath, Caspyous grips his throat when the words fail to continue. The fiery lust to discount the leadership’s abilities in front of the group have been set aside for a moment in his discomfort, and rest quietly back into his chair to gather himself.
Even though the bounds of magic within the Covenant of Shadows is strong to keep the safety of those within at a balance—much like the gift of the Boragen’s telepathy—the Zephyr’s gift to control the air still has its strength. Nothing like it would be outside the walls of the sanctuary but still enough to tip the scale to enforce some much-needed control.
Vaeda watches the once-enraged Elder settle into a quieter state of being. He doesn’t have to like her, but this gentle display is just a reminder he does need to respect her station and her ruling without compromise.
“I apologize,” she says, filling her lungs with a sigh, her eyes resting on Caspyous as he meets her stare with defiance. “But I will have you remember who it is that you are addressing, and I will not have you bring that kind of subordination to the table,” she continues, never once breaking eye contact with him until he finally blinks and looks away. “Maybe now would be a good time to stretch our legs and regroup in a moment to finalize this with clearer and calmer heads.” Vaeda offers to them, her eyes soft now and dancing around, touching upon each of the Elders to ensure all of them of her kind intention.
Caspyous turns to glare at his normal counterpart but Cimmerian only allows himself a quick glance, then shrugs, his usual cold sneer wearing on his face. He turns his focus back to staring at his folded hands. He is not going to engage with Caspyous, he has enough trouble of his own to deal with—primarily covering his tracks. Adding fuel to Caspyous’ fire is only going to lead him into the mental scan of Ethan, a place he wants to avoid like the plague.
Not receiving the support he wanted from his peer, Caspyous jolts himself out of his chair and grumbles in Cimmerian’s direction as he marches away, his fists clenched white in frustration and his jaw squared tight in anger.
Gabrian, bored with waiting for the judgement of the Elders to fall on her, wanders through the halls of the Covenant. Avoiding as many people as possible and keeping to the outskirts of the main hall, she explores, taking in all the eclectic marvels nestled into this private world. A flicker in the distance draws her attention to the reflection of shifting colours upon the smooth marbled walls within. Happening upon the spot where she and Ethan had sat the last time, the final time her father had been here with her, Gabrian sits quietly within the edifice, trying not to let her hatred for it consume her.
Her eyes dampen, drifting in a daze across the mouths of the fire lit cauldrons, and rest upon one without a flame. Her heart sinks as she compares herself to the pot. Empty, alone, and without a hope in this mess of a life she has wound up in.
Folding her arms over head, she lowers her elbows and rests on her knees. Exhausted from the constant coursing of adrenaline keeping her alert and ready with a brave face for each and every question the Covenant demanded answers for, Gabrian quiets her mind—just for a moment.
A monstrosity, an abomination and an insult to the Realm, you should have been destroyed, ripped apart, and left to burn!
Gabrian lifts her head, swallowing down the pocket of air stuck within her throat. Her body shivers and her fingertips blister with heat as the venomous words strike, knowing they are directed at her. They are not just words drifting in a subconscious image, they are projected at her—the same way she and Ethan converse, a Boragen trait. She clenches her fist, containing the heat within her palms, and wrenches her neck to find the source.
Staring at her from across the room she sees him, all his fury and hatred radiating toward her—the Hydor Elder. She squints her eyes at him, unaware he possessed such a gift, not until now.
Even though the halls are filled with Realmsfolk, she feels alone, and at any moment he will strike her down. She holds the upper hand if it were to come to a physical confrontation. She would outlast his beating and he would fail from sheer exhaustion, not to mention the deadly counter attacks she could use with her newly discovered gifts, but it is not a theory she wants to test today.
The tension between them grows beyond uncomfortable. Gabrian breaks from the stare down and rushes in the direction of the High Table, uninvited and searching for Ethan.
55
CALL THE GUARDS
Closing his eyes, Ethan calms his mind to focus all his gifts to search the Hall for understanding and solid proof for the argument he is about propose. Finding what he needs, he raises his lids and takes a deep breath as his heart sinks.
“Would you all please remain?” Ethan’s voice is low, urgent, and weighted with sadness as the words leave his mouth. “Vaeda, Orroryn, I request an immediate closed discussion.”
Eyes of the Elders dance around the table as they seek out their usual seated positions, each carrying a twisted brow as they do.
“Yes, of course, Ethan.” Vaeda leans in to the table, folding her hands in her lap, and nods as she glances over at Orroryn to seek his answer.
“But we are not all here.” Orroryn announces, eyeing the empty chair. “Shall we pause to send a guardian to find Caspyous?”
“No, it is not necessary,” Ethan spits out, eyes wide and alert. “I also request this session to be guarded immediately.”
All the Elders shift in their seats, searching for signs of understanding of what this concerns—all but one. Cimmerian does not make a move. His hands tighten, heart raging within the confines of his chest, but his body does not budge. His black eyes lift to gauge the crowd but shift, gluing them to Ethan.
He takes extra precaution to push away and conceal any and all thoughts which may have anything to do with his involvement with Gabrian, his hatred for her kind, and his obligatory tie to the phantom menace which haunts him. Cimmerian swallows, narrowing his stare, and steadies himself. Ethan surely cannot know what I have done, can he?
“What is all this about?” Ashen inquires before Cimmerian finds the courage to choke out the question himself.
“I will explain in just a moment, but I will need the guards.” Ethan folds his fingers in a loose knot as his elbows reach the edge of the marbled table, and he leans in, eyes landing on Cimmerian.
“Very well, as you wish.” Orroryn nods, lifting from his chair. His hand rises as his voice echoes across the room in a low absolute command. “Schaeduwe, shadow the Elders.” Hidden guardians emerge and surface from within the crowd and slip toward their Elder. Orroryn’s hand spins once at the top of his wrist and the bodies of the devoted form a wall around the leaders of the Realm. Tynan takes his place within the wall of Schaeduwe, his eyes darting between Orroryn and his search for his niece. “Tynan, step out. Maintain the wall from the outside.”
Breaking formation without hesitation, Tynan nods and takes his position on the outside without a word, noticing Gabrian heading in their direction.
56
HYPOCRITICAL MIND
Gabrian rushes toward her uncle, eager to get away from Caspyous, and in need of her friend’s guidance. She watches the group of Shadow Walkers
join together, forming a circle of flesh around the place she needs to get to. She pushes her thoughts out to Ethan but cannot make a connection. Seeing her uncle standing outside of it all, she hurries toward him. “What is going on? I need to get to Ethan. I need to tell him something quickly.”
“It will have to wait,” Tynan replies in a dry monotone voice, staring straight ahead.
She studies his change in demeanor and realizes he is now on duty. He is not her uncle right now but a Guardian of the Realm, a duty that will always come first.
Gabrian gasps as the Elders fade behind the wall of Guardians. No longer are their bodies, the table, or Gabrian’s favourite chair, visible. To her and any onlookers, all that appears is a mirage of movements within the circle as a temporary membrane of the Veil sweeps over the group—a hazy dome created by the Guardians—a gift of projection cast around all those within and powered by the souls that surround them. In the magnanimous phenomenon of what she is witnessing, Gabrian falls mute in a world filled with words.
A loud grumbling from behind disrupts her moment of awe. Caspyous—having heard the Realmsfolk mumbling about the wall of Guardian being formed around the High Table, an act that has rarely occurred within the Realm—makes his way through the crowd, shoving them out of the way in order to clear his path back.
“What’s going on here? Let me through,” Caspyous spits up at Tynan, demanding his entrance.
Caspyous’ negative cold essence crashes into Gabrian and she steps to the side to get some space from it.
“Your presence is not requested. Stand aside please. You will have to wait until the house commands the barrier be removed.”
“What? This is nonsense,” he growls at the Guardian. “I command you to let me through.”
Tynan shifts, eyes slipping downward to reach the Hydor Elder who stands a full foot lower than he, and merely twitches his brow. Caspyous may be an Elder but he, without the support of the High Table, holds no power over Tynan’s ruling and can be quickly escorted to a holding cell if need be or removed without hesitation to the outside world.
Tynan’s look does not go unnoted.
Caspyous pinches his eyes in a narrow hunch on the bridge of his nose and glares at the Shadow Walker, huffing loudly as he walks away, and sneaks a menacing arrow of hatred over his shoulder in Gabrian’s direction.
Feeling the stab of the deadly glance, Gabrian shudders, knowing exactly what this man thinks of her and begins to pace, biting the edge of her thumb. She needs to tell what she knows to a sympathetic ear—an ear that can help her. After managing to wear a path in the marble floors by treading back and forth, waiting for what seems like a small eternity to reach Ethan, the mirage moves. Images of those inside focus and sound breaches the wall of Guardians as they come undone.
Caspyous turns on his heels and barges his way through the barricade, hooting out his contempt for the unexplained actions. “What is the meaning of this?” He circles the edge of the group in a defiant strut, glaring at them all as he steps toward his seat. “How dare you exclude me from any discussions had at this table? I am Elder to the Hydor Fellowship, and I demand an explanation!” he shouts, slamming his fist down on the hard marble surface, filled with his own supreme measure of entitlement.
Everyone remains still at the table, all eyes volley between Vaeda, Orroryn and Caspyous. Vaeda ignores his haughty show and addresses Gabrian with a gentle hum. “Gabrian, dear, please join us.”
Gabrian nods, her eyes darting to the eyes that hold some hope for her. Ashen, Kaleb, Vaeda, a quick glance to Orroryn then a pleading stare at Ethan. She hears the vicious whispers Caspyous is trying to conceal, but it is too late, the words surface sending panic through her.
Ethan, I figured it out, Gabrian shouts silently at him as she marches to her seat. I know why…
Gabrian, breathe. Ethan returns her stare but shows little humour in his face. His eyes are steady and dilated more than usual, his mouth is pressed in a straight line, displaying the seriousness of his request to her. It is very important that you be present in this discussion.
But…
Trust me.
Gabrian stills her silent plea and nods. She takes her seat. Her muscles tense and she clenches her burning fingers into fists, awaiting the impending doom.
The busy humming of life within the walls of the Covenant quiets then comes to complete silence once Orroryn gives the order to resume the circle of Schaeduwe. Caspyous’s eyes dart around the table, trying to grasp the significance of this new show of secrecy then rolls his eyes and sits back in his chair, glancing in Cimmerian’s direction.
Cimmerian feels eyes on him, but he does not flinch. He continues to stare straight ahead, sweat dewing at his temples.
Caspyous huffs and shakes his head, folding his arms tightly across his chest. “So, is anyone here going to explain to me what this gong show is about?”
“There have been some new developments come to light,” Vaeda begins, setting herself upright, and places her hands gently onto the table, clasping her finger together into a ball.
“Developments?” he sneers. “Don’t tell me, the monstrosity is innocent by some technicality that she…”
“Enough!” Orroryn calls out. He leans forward in his chair, eyes swirling in a haze of forest green. The lines creasing the muscles in his forearms deepen their shadow with the balling of his fists. “I have heard just about enough of your outbursts and your blatant show of disrespect for Vaeda, myself, not to mention all of who are in attendance. Over the past few years we have given you lenience—a freedom in what you do at this table, out of respect for your father—but it ends today. I would advise you to still yourself, cease your incessant need to disrupt and insult our measure of authority, or I will have you contained.”
“I…” Caspyous begins but thinks better of challenging Orroryn today. The fierceness exuding from him registers with his common sense telling him to shut up and settle back in his chair, still holding on to a glare of defiance for the Elder.
“Please continue, Vaeda,” Orroryn says, his voice no longer a detonation but calm and sedate.
“As I was saying, there have been some new developments come to light in our inquisition about the night in question.”
Caspyous just huffs at her, wearing a smug expression with his lips pursed and his eyes narrowed.
Ignoring him, she continues. “Ethan has received information most of us were not privileged to only moments ago, information that changes everything. Caspyous, we would like to request you step down as Elder and as leader of your Fellowship, immediately.”
Gabrian gasps at the request and her focus blurs as she rushes to put the pieces together, fitting everything into place.
The breath from Caspyous’ lungs is punched out of him. His mouth gapes open as do his eyes, revealing the disbelief harbouring there. “Excuse me?” He sits up in his chair, elbows meeting the top of the table. “On what grounds would I ever agree to this?”
Taking a deep breath, she stands to demonstrate her authority over him. “On the grounds of premeditated attempt of murder on a member of the Realm.”
“What? You have lost your mind,” he yells at her. “You and everyone in here.” His eyes shoot toward Gabrian with icy daggers embedded in them. “What sort of mental brainwashing has this thing cast upon you now? It is the epitome of evil and has managed to fool you all.”
“Will you or will you not step down?”
“I will not!” Caspyous spits out at them, pounding his fist on the table, and rises to meet Vaeda’s challenge. “I will not!”
“Then we have no other choice.” Vaeda turns to face her friend and peer, giving him the room to do as he must. “Ethan, go ahead.”
Ethan nods and turns to look at Caspyous. He closes his eyes and slips under the futile attempts of the Hydor Elder to protect his mind. Lifting any barriers setup by Caspyous, he finds the proof, the horrid and pitiful truth of the night Gabrian was attacked and pushes the so
rdid mental details into the minds of all those in attendance.
The Elder had begun to put pieces of what was happening to her together. The signs of what she could become if left to flourish with her mentors. He was not absolute in his finding, but he refused to allow the possibility to transpire. She had too many powers, too many strengths, and too many sympathizers on her side to be denied, so he would end her before the inevitable could happen. He would ensure her demise.
Searching the local area for anyone who had a dicey past, anyone who offered less than good standing with the law, he studied them, approached them, and engaged their strength of will. If they teetered on the fence about wrong and right, he tempted them with an offer to do away with a certain thorn in his side, a youngling that was causing concern.
Gabrian lifts her hand to cover her mouth, watching the mental horror show play out through Caspyous’ mind, and her heart sinks as the immense hatred he holds for her becomes vivid in front of everyone.
Caspyous, having no luck convincing them to do his morbid bidding, tapped into a secret leverage he held, the edge that would push them over and do as he asked without question.
For Gabrian is not the only Grey sitting here tonight. Caspyous, though hidden well for years from everyone, holds the gift of mind control like that of the Borrowers—strong enough to compel the weak of mind, at least for a few hours.
Ethan continues to unveil to the group all the gory details the Hydor Elder had in mind for her demise. Everyone sucks in a breath as the explicit details of Caspyous’ envisioned execution being laid out before them plays out—the torture and wanted dismemberment and the pleasure Caspyous has gained from it all, right down to her proposed decapitation and the expected burning of her body.
“How can you all sit here and believe this thing is worth saving? It’s an abomination,” Caspyous bellows, breaking Ethan’s visual connection of the recap. “You all know what I am talking about. The Silvers are gone, Cera is gone. We have complete ruling over our world now. Do you really want to take the chance and allow it to manifest into one of them, to let it one day take over and leave you all powerless?”
