by Kate Martin
The line to enter the palace curved far beyond the grand marble staircase that led upwards to the most public part of the king’s ancestral home, snaking along the drive where the carriages pulled up one by one. Carma’s carriage had left already, and Bri used every bit of self-control he had not to go running after it. Alec and Picadilly stood on either side of him, with Carma just ahead, buffering him from the crowd that seemed to move like a single living entity. Already, the myst had thickened. He could see it everywhere, even with his eyes closed. It clung to every person, glowing brightly around some, darkly around others. He barely noticed their fine gowns and formal wear. His own suit felt like it was growing tighter around him. He pulled at the gloves that fit snugly over his fingers and up over his wrist. His shirt was of a looser style, which he preferred since it gave him freedom of movement. Some of the other men wore shirts tailored to fit snugly, creating broad, masculine lines—or so the seamstress had tried to explain to him. To Bri, the style just made him feel confined.
A gentle hand on his back ushered him forward, further up the stairs, and closer to the entrance. When they stopped again, after about three steps, he felt Alec lean in. “Are you all right?”
For some reason, the whispered question elicited a sudden feeling of frustration. Bri opened his eyes and forced himself to stop fidgeting. “Yes. I’m fine.”
Stop acting like such a child. You can do this.
With a deep breath, he stepped up when Carma did, smiled politely as they were approved for entrance to the palace, and went inside, his heart thudding in his ears.
He was vaguely aware of the high domed ceiling, cut with smaller arches along the bottom so that it looked as though it floated high above all the people below. The gilded walls and carvings sparkled in the torchlight and some other, stranger light flickered in small orbs along the walls. The floor was a polished wood, softer and easier to walk on than the marble stairs they had come from. Somewhere, musicians played a waltz, the easy music carrying around the room with the many voices and laughter of the guests. At the center of the room, couples danced, the women’s brightly colored dresses whirling past like flowers in a wind storm.
All that spectacle was overpowered by the myst.
When Dorothea had first placed the labrynth on his back, the myst had—for a short time—paced around the edges of his senses, like a caged animal waiting for the right moment to strike. As he worked with the witch, he’d gained some control, learning to use the power of the labrynth she’d carved into him as a sort of dam or floodgate, through which to allow portions of the myst through, or to block it out. He had found some relief from what had been a constant onslaught. But crowds were something he hadn’t yet conquered, and now Carma intended for him a trial by fire.
The myst pressed in close, taunting him, swiping at him, then retreated as though it had been nothing more than a tease. He saw small things: a new child for a couple, the death of a loved one for another, the anticipated dance with a handsome young suitor for one hopeful young woman.
Someone bumped into him. It was the surprise, not direct contact, that caused him to lose his tentative control, sending him careening into the man’s future—a future that ended in two days’ time, bloody and agonizing.
“Bri.” Alec caught him as he stumbled. Wearing gloves, he could not offer Bri quiet.
“I’m all right,” Bri said, finding his balance and twisting around to look behind him. “Who bumped me? Where is he?”
Alec shook his head. “I didn’t see his face.”
Carma stepped closer. “Did you see something?”
Even on tiptoe, Bri couldn’t locate the man. The crowd had already closed in. “That man’s death. I can’t find him now. But I don’t suppose you’d let me warn him anyway, would you?”
Carma shook her head. “Changing The Plan draws attention. How does he die?”
“A robbery, in the street.” And if I see him again, I will warn him. I can’t do nothing.
All interest faded from her face. “Is that all? Well, you keep out of it. Don’t endanger yourself over one measly mortal. But do keep seeing what you can. I am going to take a look around, make my greetings. Picadilly, see what you can find out, will you?”
That fangless smile never changed, invoking the image of danger even without the sharp teeth. “My pleasure.” With her vibrant red dress hugging each curve, and swirling about her legs, she all but danced her way into the throng of reveling mortals.
Carma did the same, wearing black, yet somehow glowing like a star in the midst of all the color as she melted into the crowd.
Alec steered Bri towards the edge of the gigantic ballroom. “Let’s head over here. More room to breathe.”
Even through the call of the myst, Bri felt the dozens of eyes on them as they moved through the room. “Don’t you want to enjoy yourself, Alec? Dance? All the ladies are staring.”
“How do you know it’s not you they’re staring at? Besides, I promised not to leave you alone.”
Bri arched an eyebrow as Alec pressed a glass of wine into his hands. “They’re not staring at me. I don’t mind if you want to have some fun. I’ll be all right.” He felt bad enough with Alec spending all his time hovering over his shoulder.
Alec didn’t look like he believed that for a moment. At least, not the part about Bri being all right. Bri was sure he knew the ladies were staring at him. Women always stared at Alec.
“Maybe later,” was Alec’s answer. “Don’t drink that wine too quickly. We’re at the top of society right now; it’s not watered down.”
With a nod, Bri sipped the wine—and was indeed surprised by its strength. He batted away a tendril of myst attempting to show him the private comings and goings one woman would have out back behind the carriages. That vision gave him cause to take another sip of wine. This was going to be a long night.
Through the music and the revelry, the king’s words were crystal clear, “Everything is going perfectly. Just as you said.”
Lillianna smiled, raising her glass to him. “I am incapable of lying, your majesty. You know that.”
The king laughed, a great deep laugh that had been colored by the half dozen glasses of wine he had drunk that night. “That may be, but it still surprises me. And the speed with which it all happened, truly amazing.”
“Don’t get too excited just yet, your majesty. Your son’s marriage to the Montinique House will expedite things, what with their claim to the Vaah throne, but there is still much to be done.”
“Yes, yes. But it is still marvelous. To think, Chanae will be the farthest reaching kingdom in all the Dactic lands.” He stroked his beard thoughtfully. “We should take the Wilds to the west while we’re at it.”
“What ingenious thinking,” Lillianna said, as though that hadn’t been her plan all along. She entertained the king’s drunk rambling a bit longer, then whisked herself away as soon as another victim—guest—took up a new conversation.
She froze when caught sight of her reflection in a mirror. In an attempt to blend in, she had pinned her thick blonde hair up in curls and twists, but she hadn’t forgone her usual silk dress. A deep royal blue, it conveyed importance while she stood beside the king, and she’d had this one cut to match the scooped necklines, fitted waist, and flowing skirts that matched the fashion of the time. But where the human women exposed their arms in sleeveless dresses, Lillianna had long sleeves. The Mortal Realm was just too cold. She missed Hell’s heat.
But none of that was what had stopped her. She lifted a hand to touch the faint lines she noticed at the corners of her eyes, and a few more at edge of her mouth. Age lines. Crow’s feet.
She needed to feed. It had been too long. The fruition of her plan couldn’t come soon enough.
Patience, she reminded herself. Have patience. Soon enough these humans will give me what I want.
But until then…
She searched the crowds, the dancers at the center, for her oh-so-pretty escort. Keeping close to the walls
as she did so, she could see his small labrynths carved into the sconces that held the unique glowing orbs that lit the room. He had become quite adept at his scribing in recent years—a skill that had helped put her first in the king’s sight, then in his good graces. What ruler didn’t like to claim a witch in his employ?
And there he was, her little witch, charming and scandalizing some young noble woman, his hand pressed far too tightly to her lower back as they danced, his lips moving in secret words right beside her ear, and her cheeks flushed. The smile on her face made no question of the fact that he would get what he wanted from her.
Lillianna could feed from someone else. Let him have his fun.
Unfortunately, anyone else would have to be a full kill, and she couldn’t have anyone turning up dead at the palace. It would cause talk. And she was ravenous.
She snaked around the edge of the dance floor, watching and waiting. The moment the music stopped, and the guests applauded, she made her move. Following at a distance, she watched Kai escort the young woman off the dance floor to where they would be hidden by a thick grouping of potted plants and small trees. By the time she made herself known, he already had the woman’s skirt bunched up around her waist.
Lillianna cleared her throat. “Kai.”
He stopped his assault of teeth and lips on the woman’s neck but did not pull away. “You cannot be serious.”
The air surged and stung, his power bubbling to the surface even without a labrynth. Or perhaps he did have one. More than once she had caught him carving lines and turns into his own flesh.
“Just make it quick,” she said, unwilling to risk his temper in such a public area. “I’ll wait for you by the door to the garden.”
He didn’t wait for her to leave before resuming his activities. Lillianna stepped out of the small alcove to the sound of the young woman’s heavy breathing.
Not two steps more and she spied all too familiar silver hair and bronze skin complementing a black dress. Staying within the cover of the crowd, she followed, wanting to be absolutely sure. She knew she wouldn’t be sensed in return. Kai had concocted a labrynth that ensured she felt like a common human to any demons who might be lurking about.
Stopped by a passing gentleman, her quarry turned, offering a polite greeting to the man, and a perfect view of her face to Lillianna.
Carma.
How the hell did she get free? And when?
Carma parted herself from the gentleman and continued through the throngs of people. Lillianna followed. She would learn who Carma had come with, then grab Kai and leave.
She went all the way to the edge of the room, a place where a few chairs and benches had been placed for guests who wanted or needed a place to sit. Lillianna hung back further than she would have liked so she could stay within the safety of the crowd.
Carma came to a stop beside two young men. Had there been a heart in her chest to stall and seize, Lillianna was sure it would have when she gazed upon the younger of the two. There was no mistaking that auburn hair, the full lips that were almost girlish, and the silver-brown eyes that had no equal.
Or, precisely one equal.
But the expression on that familiar face—too soft, meek, and lacking confidence—made those well-known features strangers to her.
All these years…he’s been with her. Kai will—
She had to get Kai out of there. He would tear the palace apart, and she couldn’t have that. Not yet. One thing her Kai did not have—even after her insistence that he work on developing it—was patience.
She would make her apologies and say her goodbyes to the king, then when Kai met her at the gardens, she would drag him back to Hell before he could see anything. Tomorrow they would plan anew. The search was over.
“Alec, people are staring. Please go dance with someone.”
“People are not staring.”
They’d had this argument many times in the past turn. Bri felt the gazes of others in the room on them both. The kindly and admiring glances were reserved for Alec. Bri was being watched with a scrutinizing curiosity. No doubt the guests were curious who this strange boy was who needed to be watched over by the handsome stranger. Something had to be wrong with him.
Bri’s chest grew tighter. He kept watching the myst, hoping the future of one of the ladies would grow dark for a moment, or develop a small hole, anything to indicate that Alec—who couldn’t be seen—would give in and dance with her. Bri needed the eyes off him. Drawing all this attention was only making the myst worse.
Thank the gods I’m not a mind reader. I don’t want to know the details of what they’re thinking. He could infer enough. He preferred to keep Alec’s private life just that—private.
“Alec.”
“Bri, no one is staring.”
“Lying about it doesn’t change it. Please, Alec, I’m begging you. All their attention is drawing the myst. If you don’t dance with one of them, I’m going to lose what control I have.” He bit his tongue the moment the last word left his lips. I can’t believe I said that. Yes, it was all true, but he had never deliberately played upon Alec’s protectiveness of him like that. Which makes me a terrible person.
Yet he didn’t take it back. More so than the issue with the myst, he hated the thought that Alec might resent him for all the looking after he required. He was fifteen now, not a man, but certainly no longer a child. He needed to act like it.
Alec said nothing for a long while. Bri did his best not to break under that gaze. He wanted Alec to enjoy himself, and he needed to feel invisible for a while. As long as Alec was at his side, that would never happen.
Carma drifted towards them, about to say something before catching onto their standoff and raising an eyebrow. “What’s all this about?”
“Bri wants me to ask one of the young ladies he’s convinced are staring at me to dance.”
“They are staring,” Bri said half under his breath.
Carma took a quick look around. “He’s right, they are. Why wouldn’t they be? You are clearly the best looking thing here. Male, in any case.”
Alec scoffed.
“Carma is here now. You’ll stay for a moment, won’t you? So Alec can dance?” Bri said.
“Why are you so intent on him dancing?” Carma asked.
“I…” The truth sounded ungrateful, childish. Really, he wanted to scream that he wasn’t a baby who needed to be watched every moment of every day. But at the same time, he was terrified of having no one near in case things got bad. More than anything, though, he just wanted Alec to enjoy himself, rather than clinging to the wall like some socially inept freak. Like him.
Finally, Alec sighed, all the fight leaving him. “All right, fine. One dance. But you have to promise me that you’ll stay right here. Don’t move. I’ll stay close on the dance floor so I can still see you, or hear you if you need anything.”
Bri wanted to tell him he didn’t have to do that, but the fear of Alec changing his mind made him keep that to himself. “Where would I go?”
The myst shifted, and the future of one of the women, a striking brunette, with rich brown skin, and a brilliant green dress, developed a small dark cloud. Knowing that made Bri relax.
“A pretty girl could try to run off with you, you know,” Alec said.
With me? He hated when Alec said ridiculous things like that. What would a girl ever see in him?
“I’ll meet you both back here,” Alec said, his gaze flicking to the woman.
“Bri is going to come for a walk with me,” Carma said. “Take your time.”
“A walk?” Bri was surprised to hear Alec’s voice exactly in time with his own.
“Yes, a walk. We are here to learn things, not to become one with the wall hangings.”
Bri sighed. Alec looked about to argue, but a glare from Carma silenced that. “Fine,” he said, then leaned into Carma and whispered something Bri couldn’t hear. Carma answered him with a bemused smile. Then Alec was gone, though not before gl
ancing at Bri one last time. The woman in the green dress beamed when he approached her.
“Come,” Carma said, crooking a finger at him and heading away from the spot Bri had made his personal sanctuary. “Stay close.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice. Reminding himself to breathe and appear to be enjoying himself, Bri followed, weaving his way between the throngs of people watching the dance floor. He fidgeted and twisted his gloves at his wrists in a constant reminder that they were there. The myst shifted as he moved, changing with each person who passed, each group that chattered away somewhere nearby. The tendrils flicked out at him, as though excited to have an audience, working their way into his mind. Once again he saw children, and the deaths of loved ones, new homes, new money, loss of money, and underhanded deeds. He shoved most of it away, but as he and Carma approached the side of the room with the dais, the myst grew thicker, darker, more muddled, and more eager.
For a moment Bri was there, within the myst, the ball far away and beyond his senses. The myst, a swirl of blue and silver in the darkness, turned, catching his scent. It charged him, frantic and with less grace than he had come to expect—it wanted to show him, to force the visions upon him. So much of it had gone black…
Clinging to the power of the labrynth on his back, Bri thrust himself out of the myst before it could make contact. The music and lights and dancing returned around him, but the tendrils of that mass of myst remained, clinging to their mortal lives, and reaching one small piece towards him.
Bri clutched his chest, shut his eyes, and concentrated on breathing—and keeping out that dark part of the myst.
The click of heels coming close was the first thing he heard. “Bri.” Carma. He opened his eyes to see her standing close, studying him. Her voice was gentle and concerned, but it didn’t hide her intense interest. “What did you see?”
“Nothing,” he said, or was about to say, when a woman dressed in bright purple approached them, speaking over his answer in a voice so boisterous he never had the chance of being heard.
“Carma, darling, there you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.” Her hair was done up, greying in places, and her makeup was applied just on this side of too thick. The skirt of her dress was attached at her wrist, and so her grand gestures gave the appearance of a misshapen, purple wing.