“Yes,” replies Octavia. “Aldred said he’d come back with new powers to show everyone.”
Translation: Aldred figured he’d have the Contagion’s magic by now. He was planning a triumphant return. How very Aldred of Aldred.
“My message said nothing about new powers,” lies Aldred. “You must have read it incorrectly. I merely wanted to complete the Trials of Acca.”
“Ah,” comments Octavia. She gives Aldred a pointed stare that says, watch your ass.
“How long have we been gone?” asks Lincoln.
“A few hours,” replies Octavia.
Nat barrels up to us. Baptiste follows close behind him. “What an odd battle earlier today! Baptiste and I got frozen but we’re fine now.” Nat hugs us both in turn. “What happened in the Primeval? Lincoln and Myla, off on another adventure. Tell us everything!”
I haven’t known Nat for long, but there’s no missing his love for adventure stories. This will be fun.
“We have no time for such foolishness,” pronounces Aldred.
Or not.
Lincoln and I share a dry look. Heaven forbid someone else get attention during Aldred’s triumphant comeback party.
For his part, Aldred moves to stand before the yellow canopy. “Everyone!” He calls to the audience. “Welcome!”
The crowd cheers. However, the sound carries less enthusiasm than before. Nothing like being locked in a cavern with a tree monster to make you think twice about something.
“The Contagion is indeed dead,” announces Aldred. “I killed him. And I saved the ghoul Captain of Thought Police!” Aldred waves to Rule, who’s been a rather silent ghoul this whole time. “Come forward, Rule, and say a few words about my rescue.”
Rules moves to stand beside Aldred. “Greetings, everyone. I’m simply grateful to be alive.”
“Hear that?” asks Aldred. “He’s grateful.” Aldred claps a meaty hand on Rule’s shoulder. “You’re welcome.”
Rule squares his shoulders. “I’d like to make an announcement before the trials restart.”
“Sure, sure. Anything you want.” Aldred elbows Rule. “Only don’t talk too much about everything I did to help you. It would simply be too embarrassing.”
Translation: I did nothing to save you. Even so, I want you to make up a bunch of garbage now to make me look good.
“Thank you,” says Rule. “I hereby choose this moment to formally announce my support for the new soul processing bills before Purgatory’s Senate. I shall organize a gathering of the greatest ghouls in order to craft the finest—and most specific—Thought Mandate ever created. That way, we shall provide optimal support.”
I clap my hands raw at this point. Even add in a few cheers. This is awesome news. Who would have suspected Rule to be awesome?
Aldred frowns. “What about me? Don’t you wish to tell everyone about how I saved you?”
Rule folds his arms over his chest. “No, I don’t.”
Well, that told him in three words or less.
“What a fine joke.” Aldred laughs. “My ghoul rescuee has quite the sense of humor. Yet we’ve other matters before us today. Now that I have killed the Contagion as promised, I do hereby declare the Trials of Acca officially open!”
The cheering strikes up again. This time, there’s a little more excitement behind it. I guess watching me get humiliated is a popular idea with some of the nobility. Not a surprise.
That said, it is a pain in my ass.
Bottom line? What a crap week. At this moment, I have zero desire to deal with the Trials of Acca.
I round on Aldred. “Now? We’re really going to do this?”
Octavia steps up once more. “Of course, the trials shall begin immediately. This is important, Myla.”
Lincoln’s mother works her queenly vibe, which is where Lincoln inherited some of his bossy edge. On my guy, it’s a bonus. From Octavia? Not so much, considering how she glares down her nose at me. That hurts.
Bone-deep weariness seeps through every molecule in my body. The thrax, quasis, Avians, Reptilians, and Icythians… everyone wants me to change. Even the Contagion wanted to suck out my life force.
A weight of sorrow settles inside me. Cissy was right after all. Everyone has limits. In this moment, I’d sell my soul for a brownie and a nap.
Aldred eyes me from head to toe and smirks. He totally knows I don’t have any more fucks to give on this one.
“Come forward, Lady Bentford!” calls the earl.
Lady Bentford moves to stand beside Aldred. With a flick of her wrist, she sets loose a super-long scroll. Impressive. This thing puts Santa’s Naughty Or Nice List to shame.
Lady Bentford clears her throat. “I have a few questions for Miss Lewis about the Rixa Way. As the representative of the thrax royal court, it is my duty to ensure any future member knows our values and traditions.”
I hold up my pointer finger. “One sec.” I sashay closer to Octavia. “I thought this was going to be three questions, tops.”
“Lady Bentford asked for ideas from other houses,” states Octavia. “Things may have gotten a little out of hand.”
“A little?” I hitch my thumb toward the Santa list. “Nothing about that looks little.”
“Please. It is the Rixa Way.”
And in this moment, I realize there is a side to Octavia I’ve never seen before. She has the ability to beg. Right now, she’s got her hands clasped beneath her chin, lower lip wobbling, the full deal.
Gah. Where is my brownie? When can I take my nap?
76
Lincoln
I’ve seen Mother work her big guns when it comes to manipulation. After all, she can make almost any rank and file thrax weep within two minutes. Only rarely have I seen what’s happening now.
Mother’s going nuclear.
For Octavia, this means everything but all out bawling. It’s extraordinarily effective. As for Myla, every part of her seems washed out and exhausted. Circles under her eyes. Colorless skin. Slumped shoulders.
My girl needs real food and sleep. Which is why Mother’s pulling out all the stops.
A memory appears. I’m back in the woods with the Guide, only it doesn’t turn out to be him at all. It was Lady Bentford. Back then, I’d tortured myself about what the true threat against me and Myla.
At last, I see that risk clearly.
Even better, I know what to do about it.
Striding over to Myla, I pull my girl into my arms. For a long moment, I just feel her melting into my embrace. Long seconds tick by before she speaks.
“I’ll do it,” she whispers, her voice hoarse. “The stupid trials. Lady Bentford’s questions, the Igni Validation test, everything. Just get it over with.”
“No, you’re not. We will fight this.”
She sniffles. “I’ve got a big cry coming on. I’m talking snot strings galore. I have so had it here.”
“Understood. Which is why I’ll make a speech and end this abomination.”
More sniffles. “I don’t need you stepping in to fix my problems.”
“But they aren’t your problems any more. They are ours.” Setting my knuckle under her chin, I guide Myla’s gaze to meet mine. “Everyone gets tired. That’s why we lean on each other.”
“When you say sweet things like that, it just makes me want to bawl. I’m being a total weakie here.”
“What did I say?” I run my fingertip along her jawline. “We all have our moments. You may not fully realize this, but you give me strength every day. My life was a colorless drudge before you came along. As you know, I almost sold myself into a life with Adair. That’s how low I’d sunk.”
A smile quirks one corner of Myla’s mouth. “That’s pretty low.”
“You trusted me with the Contagion. I ask that of you again, because the same thing is happening now. Evil seeks to drain my girl of her life force. I won’t allow it.”
“Do you really think that’s what they’re up to? Octavia looks truly miserable.�
��
I kiss the top of her head. “This won’t take long. All right?”
She sighs. “Agreed.”
Lacing my fingers with Myla’s, I turn to face the audience.
Here goes.
77
Lincoln
The cavern turns silent. All eyes lock on me and Myla. My people love a good battle and this will be a major fight, even if swords aren’t involved.
“Greetings, everyone,” I begin.
“Now, Lincoln,” says Aldred. “There’s no need to grandstand.”
I round on Aldred. “I will speak my mind now. During that time, here’s what you’ll do: Step away.” I pack all the malice in the after-realms into those last two words. Rage careens off me and runs straight into Aldred.
The earl shuffles backward.
As I suspected he would. After all, I’ve seen Aldred’s soul. At the end of all things, he’s a coward.
I return my focus to the crowd. “My fiancée and I are here today for the Trials of Acca. This event has two official goals.” As I go through each point, I raise a finger. “One. Show that Myla knows the Rixa way. Two. Force Myla’s igni to display whether they approve of her involvement in combat.”
The crowd’s attention stays locked on me. The air turns heavy with anticipation.
“For the second item, the request is ridiculous. Myla has served on dozens of demon patrols. She’s taken down thirty-six Class A monsters. No one needs to approve her involvement in combat. She’s already doing it.”
Taking a moment, I scan the crowd. Some nobles nod. Others shrug. This is as expected. The Igni Validation test was more something Aldred pushed on Purgatory. My people appreciate demon fighting. They won’t stop Myla when it comes to battle.
“Which brings back to the first point. The tests for the Rixa Way. Listen to me carefully. Those are a lie.”
Gasps echo through the air, mostly from Lady Bentford and her cronies. That’s to be expected. After all, this is the true threat here.
“I’ve been told this test is to rate Myla’s ability to memorize trivia about manners. It is not. This display seeks to tear down Myla’s very nature. My girl is aggressive. Dominant. Now Myla must call Lady Bentford Mistress before the whole court? My own fiancée is to be forced into admitting humiliation? That’s beyond outrageous. And because of the threat of the Contagion, it’s an outrage that I allowed to stand for far too long.”
No one in the audience says a word. Many stare at the ground or shuffle their weight from foot to foot.
They’re embarrassed.
As they should be.
“Some here wish to change my Myla into a thrax lady with a tail. Listen to me carefully. I won’t have it. I adore my Angelbound love just as she is. You will never change her.”
I draw Myla closer to my side. Her body feels warm and firm against mine. “Many of you don’t know this, but I almost lost Myla once to poison. At the time, I vowed that nothing would be more important than our love. And so I declare to you now the same thing I announced back then. Accept us or move on. There is no saying, you are fine to rule, and then whittling us into something else afterwards. Drop that battle tactic.”
I scan all the faces. No one says a word, especially Aldred.
“No one wishes us to leave? Good. I have chosen my bride. If you desire to join our future court, then spend your time figuring out how to make Myla feel welcome and comfortable, rather than focusing on your own petty ends.” I round on Lady Bentford. “And in that spirit, saffronia does indeed taste like urine.”
With a gasp, Lady Bentford drops her list. It’s a rather satisfying sight.
I turn to Myla. “My future queen, is there anything you’d like to add?”
Myla inhales a shaky breath. “Only that I love you as you are, too.” She grins and it’s a smile that sparkles with all that’s lovely in my world. My heart warms.
“I hereby declare these trials to be officially over. Everyone, go home.” I look to Myla. “That means us, too.”
Turning, I loop my arm around Myla’s shoulder. She sets her hand at my waist. Together, we walk back to my chambers.
I’ve felt in love before. Now, I know what it is to be a husband and partner. This isn’t only about her and me anymore. It’s about cherishing the new entity that is us.
And that’s a beautiful development, indeed.
EPILOGUE
Three Weeks Later
1
Lincoln
Three weeks ago, Rule promised to endorse the new soul processing bills before the Senate. As part of that, we agreed to have a day-long conclave in Antrum in order to figure out the particulars. It seemed like a nice idea at the time.
Now the day in question has arrived. Rule has sent over four boxes of detailed minutiae in preparation, all of which we’ll discuss. A classic example:
If the soul to be processed lost more then 21.1 grams at death, should form 827-A be completed or form 1367-B?
Needless to say, today promises to be the definition of tedious. Myla’s parents are attending, so there will be folks present who can actually speak to Rule’s concerns. Still, a full eight hours of this?
I’d rather snort lemon juice.
After our adventures in the Primeval, all I want is more alone time with Myla.
Speaking of my betrothed, Myla now stands framed on the threshold of the Starlight Conservatory, one of the many reception chambers in Arx Hall. While most of my home is decorated in medieval simplicity—meaning wooden furniture, tapestries and Persian rugs—this particular space is designed to impress. Gold, crystal, and enamel cover virtually every surface.
Yet my fiancée outshines it all.
After closing the door, Myla turns toward me. A mischievous light shines in her blue eyes. Interest sparks in my soul. This will be good.
“I have an idea,” Myla whispers.
The magnetic pull between us draws me closer. “Yes?”
“We’re supposed to attend the…” Myla snaps her fingers, trying to recall the right name. “Meh. I call it the Rule Thing.”
I tap my chin, as if genuinely thinking this through. “If by the Rule Thing, you mean the day-long event to secure his endorsement for your parent’s Senate bills? Then yes, that’s next on our schedule.”
Myla huffs out a breath. “Mom and Dad say it’s a lock. They don’t want us wasting time with Rule.”
“We agreed to join him.” I’m a firm believer in keeping your word, by the way. Trust is the bedrock of effective rule.
“And now, we can un-agree to attend. I’ve found us an out.”
“I don’t know. My parents already sent five messages this morning to ensure we’ll be on time. They don’t wish to be alone with the ghouls.”
“Boo hoo. So they’d have to do their jobs.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Myla.”
“Hey, who covered for me when I was weakening? You. Now I’m returning the favor. You don’t want to hit this. I don’t, either. It’s not like we’re spending a day with Peli or something.”
Which is true. If Peli needed our tine, both Myla and I would be more than happy to oblige. Since leaving the Primeval, Peli has sent us messages reporting how he’s now King Wizard over all lands. He’s already set up food redistribution to help those in need. Good for him.
All of which brings me back to today and Rule. I step closer to Myla. “Let’s hear your plan.” Because my girl always has one.
“Here’s the deal. Nothing’s more important to thrax than killing demons. So if you and I are testing weapons today then—VOILA—no more Rule Thing.”
“That could be true.” I exhale a slow breath. “Unfortunately, we thrax haven’t added a new weapon since the crossbow.” And even that addition remains controversial. Mostly because anything with moving parts tends to jam up around demons. It’s one of their evil superpowers.
“Uh, false.” Fresh excitement pours off Myla in waves. It’s contagious. “You just added a weapon whe
n I became your fiancée.” She gestures across her Scala robes. “These can change shape. Body armor is one option. There are other things I’ve tested out, too. Which brings me back to my idea.”
“And that is?”
“Three words: Weapons. Fashion. Show.”
I beam with delight. Leave it to Myla to turn a humdrum day into something wondrous. It also strikes me that Myla and I are now alone in the Starlight Conservatory. This scheme gets better by the moment.
“You’re brilliant,” I state. “We’re definitely released from today’s unpleasantness.”
“Hey, it’s my job to make sure our lives don’t suck.”
I chuckle. “Now I’ll do my bit as well.” Pulling open the door, I address the guard on duty. Although the visor’s pulled low on the helm of the knight in question, I already know his identity.
“Greetings, Igor.”
“Your Highness.”
“Please transfer a message to my parents. The future queen and I will skip today’s ghoul conclave.”
“But Walker also said you must attend. I’m to ensure you leave on time. He’s back from his cruise and most anxious to speak with you. ”
I fix Igor with my most regal stare. “I’m overruling any other requests on this matter.”
“But Walker—”
“No interruptions for the next hour,” I continue. “If anyone approaches the door, inform them the future king and queen are focused on weapons testing. Under article 2,867-A of the Statement on Royal War Readiness, we cannot be disturbed.”
“As you command.”
“Thank you, Igor.” After pulling the door closed, I focus on Myla. “Now.”
She blinks at me dramatically. “Yeeeeeeeees?”
“How about that fashion show?”
And I lock the door with a gentle click.
2
Myla
Trickster (Angelbound Lincoln Book 3) Page 23
