by M. K. Gibson
“How did you capture one?”
“I didn’t,” I said. “My parents did. An archaeological expedition many years ago before Paige or I was born. They found the lamp that housed her. And through her, they amassed an incredible fortune. I was let into the family secret when my parents deemed me worthy. Sophia orchestrated the accident that claimed my father and maimed my mother. So when my mother passed on, Sophia’s lamp, and thus the right of ownership, passed to me. When I confronted Sophia for the first time, I did the one thing no one ever had.”
“What?”
“I released her.”
“Why?”
“To see what would happen.”
“And what did happen?” Lydia asked.
“She was going to kill me as well, but curiosity stopped her. She asked why I did what I did. I told her she was not mine to own. It was then that she asked me what I wanted in life. And I told her I wanted to be the greatest villain in this or any known world. She agreed to help me. I let her choose her own name and she in turn showed me the known realms. Our partnership began and has been mutually beneficial ever since.”
“So, she is evil?”
“Oh, most definitely. Well,” I paused, thinking about it. “Not evil-evil. She is . . . chaos. Yes, that’s a better description. She’s an elemental force for change and disruption. Sophia is neither evil nor good. A primal force of the universe.”
“And she is going to kill you?”
“One day,” I said. “Nothing I can do about it. My family trapped her and used her. So for several generations, the Blackwells carry her curse for vengeance. Part of our agreement is as long as I continue to be the greatest villain, while entertaining her, I have a stay of execution. Although now that I think about it, I am convinced she made Randy as smart as he was while Paige was pregnant. Perhaps that was Sophia’s way of testing me to see if I was still on my game. Djinn are very patient creatures.”
Lydia’s hands went to her stomach. “What of our child?”
“Also cursed, I’m afraid. But he or she will also be a demigod. They have a way of bending the rules.”
“So,” Lydia said, “what do we do now?”
“Whatever we want. Especially since you are no longer Valliar’s avatar, we can be as nefarious as we wish to be.”
Lydia smiled. “That was tricky of you.”
“Thank you.”
“How did you know Valliar would transfer his power from me to Randy?”
“I wasn’t offering him much of a choice. Stay imprisoned or make the switch. But Valliar saw the benefit in using an evil person for good purposes. Now Randy will have to wander your world, forced to do good deeds.”
“Won’t he try and destroy you somehow?”
“I hope he does.”
“But won’t he be the hero then?”
“Oh, no,” I laughed. “He is forced into doing good. That will never make him a hero.”
“Besides, there are already two other new heroes running around.”
“Exactly,” I said. “Although if Wren does his wandering the countryside righting wrongs bit, he will eventually come to blows with Hawker.”
“I thought he was going to try to unify the empires.”
“That’s my point. If Hawker tries, he will become corrupt. It’s too big. When he tries, he will start down a dark path. It’s in his blood. Even the Eld tried to bend people to their way of thinking.”
“I don’t think you give him enough credit. He seems to do things no one else can.”
“Backwoods farm boys only become emperor if they have magic and red hair. Strange dragon tattoos or birthmarks help. Oh, poor Lydia. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you. ”
Lydia rolled her eyes. “Do you think your sister will accept her new job?”
“Let’s see,” I said. I reached out and touched the intercom. “Sophia?”
“Yes sir?”
“Ms. Barrowbride and I would like some scotch.”
“Yes sir. I’ll bring you a bottle.”
“No need, Sophia. Send the new girl.”
I could feel Sophia’s smile. “Very good sir.”
A moment later Paige opened my office door. She was dressed in a servant’s uniform and her face was most displeased. In her hands was a silver tray with a bottle of scotch and two glasses. “Here Jul—Mr. Blackwell.”
“Thank you for the scotch, Paige.”
“Yes . . . sir.”
“Please set the drinks down here, Paige. Thank you. Afterwards, please clean the toilets.”
Paige gritted her teeth. “Yes . . . sir.”
The door shut a little too forcefully. But I let it go for now. Paige would settle into her new role as my employee. It was the only way I would spare Randy. She had to swear herself to me mind, body, and soul. In turn, I pay her a fair wage and she works fair hours.
But in my realm, I can make an eight-hour shift last as long as I want.
“So, with Valliar gone, I miss having a little god inside me,” Lydia mused while she bent over my desk, showcasing her cleavage. “Do you have a little god for me?”
“Only a little?” I asked.
Lydia crawled over my desk, knocking paperwork and items askew. She pulled my face towards hers and began kissing me.
“Did you bring the knives?” I gasped, trying to catch my breath.
Lydia pulled a blade and held it to my throat. “Always.”
About the Author
M. K. Gibson is a husband, father, a retired USAF MSgt, and a lifetime geek. Ever since he saw the Rankin-Bass The Hobbit movie in 1980, all he ever wanted to do was create and tell fantastical stories.
M. K. Gibson lives in Mt. Airy, MD with his wife, and first-line editor, Valerie, their son Jack, their schnauzer Murphy, newfoundland Sully and their cat Mini.
Follow M. K. Gibson on Twitter at @GibsonMK1, Facebook author page and read updates and insane blogs at MKGibson.com.
