“You see,” I continue. “What I’m planning to do is—”
“Marry Adair!” Again, Father and Aldred speak in unison.
I inhale a long breath. “Perhaps I’ve been unclear. Allow me to explain.” I focus on Aldred. “I shall never, ever marry Adair. Not if the angel Verus herself ordered it. Not if the future of the thrax people depended on our nuptials. Not even if every other female in the after-realms disappeared and only Adair remained. Me, Adair, no. Is that clear?”
Aldred trembles with rage. “Then I’m taking my house cloud-side.”
I sniff. Cloud-side means living on the Earth’s surface. “You won’t last a month.”
“Not true,” snaps Aldred.
“Let’s see.” I count off on my fingers. “You’ve promised me no less than six times to end the dissolus infestation in New York. You haven’t been able to end one of those demons. What makes you think you can live cloud-side permanently?”
Aldred lifts his chin. “My house will join Ethan’s thrax colony. He’s been surviving well for years.”
Ethan was a childhood friend of mine. Then tragedy struck. After his family died, Ethan relocated to the Earth’s surface. It’s true that his cloud-side settlement is surviving, but I suspect that’s because my parents send him a steady stream of thrax warriors to protect his compound.
“Your house now includes the Scala Heir,” I point out. “Moving cloud-side will place her in danger.”
“Adair will be safe,” says Aldred.
“That’s false and you know it,” counters Mother. “You’re placing your own flesh and blood at risk because of a bruised ego.”
“Ego?” Aldred’s jowls turn pink. He’s getting worked up and fast. “Your son promised to marry my daughter.”
“Never happened,” I say coolly.
Aldred rounds on me. “You misled her.”
This thread of accusations could go on all night. Best to speed to the negotiating bit. “What do you want, Aldred?”
Aldred leans over the table, resting his fists on the top. “Acca will remain in Antrum, so long as you remain open to a marriage alliance.”
“Absolutely not,” I state. “Any other options?”
“My house will stay in Antrum,” replies Aldred. “But you must stay away from the demon girl.”
Now, it’s interesting that Aldred returned so quickly with a counter-offer. That means one thing. Aldred knows he’ll be at risk in Ethan’s compound. He wants a way to save face, not get a marriage treaty inked at this very moment.
Aldred truly is an awful negotiator. I let a long pause go by before replying. His jowls turn an even deeper shade of red. “Well, what do you say?” asks Aldred.
“To staying away from the so-called demon girl? Another no. And her name is Myla Lewis.”
Aldred balls his fists so tightly, his knuckles flare white. “I’ll go cloud-side. Don’t think I won’t!”
“Believe me, I don’t think you won’t not go.” There, let’s see who understands the concept of double-negatives.
Father pipes in. “Come along now. We must see some way to reach an agreement.” He slaps the tabletop with him palm. “I have it. How about only chaperoned access to Miss Lewis?”
“That could be interesting.” Aldred’s tiny eyes narrow. “But I must approve any meetings beforehand.”
In Aldred’s mind, the fact that he can pre-approve Myla access means no access at all. With forewarning, Aldred can transform any Myla-time into disaster.
Fortunately for me, I’m a rather sneaky fellow. With Walker’s help, I can get around this easily.
Mother focuses on me. “What do you say?”
“Agreed,” I reply.
“Excellent!” Aldred rubs his palms together. His hands must be sweaty, since a gentle slurping noise sounds in tandem with his movements.
Honestly, the man is just disgusting in every way imaginable.
I motion to the exit. “If there’s nothing else, I’d ask you to leave, Aldred.”
“But, I…” Aldred stammers.
“Please leave us,” says Father. “I’ll be along shortly.”
Once Aldred leaves, I remain in my chair, waiting. There’s more to come from my parents. It will be interesting who launches the opening volley. No doubt, Father will press for a marriage commitment.
In a negotiation, it’s not that whoever speaks first loses.
But whoever speaks first, absolutely loses.
In this case, the first to pipe up is Father.
“This is a fine mess,” he grumbles. “How can we stop Aldred from leaving?” Father looks to me as if to say, you know what needs to be done. Marry Adair.
“As a matter of fact, I already have a plan.” My pulse speeds. This is the moment I’ve been working months toward. “I’ve finalized a treaty with the houses of Kamal, Horus and Striga. We will combine warriors at the command of the House of Rixa.”
“They already do that,” says Father. “Every house under our rule will serve at the crown’s command.”
“Only for non-thrax enemies,” I explain. “The new treaty states they’ll fight with us against Acca.”
All the color drains from Father’s face. “You did what?”
“I love this idea,” says Mother quickly. “Brilliant.” She looks to Father. “With the risk to none other than the Scala Heir, I’m sure you agree. We must support Lincoln in this.”
Father drums his fingers on the tabletop. I know that move, he’s considering how to sidestep my alliance. There’s no way around it.
How I love it when my plans work.
“And all the earls have signed?” asks Father.
“Every last one,” I reply.
Father’s eyes narrow. “Funny I didn’t know about it.”
I’d planned for this statement, of course. “I sent you copies of everything. You know our arrangement. If I don’t hear from you in a week, I move forward.” Every once in a while, Father decides he needs to look at things. Within days, the machinery of state grinds to a halt. Then we reinstate the one-week review rule. In Father’s defense, it’s not as if he wastes time hunting or listening to the lute. Managing Aldred’s whining is a full-time job.
“Thank you, son.” Mother waves to the exit. “Excellent work. You’re free to leave.”
Not for the first time, I decide that my mommy is the best mommy ever. I know when I’m being given a quick exit, and I’m wise enough to take it. With a fast bow to my parents, I leave the tent.
Once outside, I could shout, I’m so excited. My Anti-Acca treaty is working. There’s no signed marriage contract with Adair. And there’s also no way Aldred can leave Antrum with a massive army blocking his path.
A memory appears. My warm mood chills over.
There is one way this could all be derailed. Lucas talked about one of his nobles going rogue … Something about Lord Gilberto making a deal with Aldred that involved Lady Gianna. If y guess is right, Aldred’s next stop will be a visit to Gilberto. If Striga pulls out of my alliance, that could ruin everything. For a moment, I consider pushing on Lucas. I could make him commit to hold to the treaty forever.
That won’t work. Lucas is a good man. He won’t commit farther than he can manage. And the earl already gave me a heads-up. I just have to trust that when it comes to the treaty, Lucas will tell me if he needs to back out. In the meantime, I need to brainstorm some contingency plans.
My future with Myla is too important to leave to chance. Or to Lucas.
27
Now, I certainly promised Aldred that I wouldn’t have any meetings with Myla without the earl’s pre-approval. That said, when dealing with Aldred, I’ve found that it’s best to save outright confrontation for special occasions. Otherwise, I could easily turn into a burned-out hulk like my father. Instead, I plan to use a bit of subterfuge in order to see my girl.
When it comes to Aldred, being sneaky is a way of life. It’s also rather enjoyable.
But in order to s
ee Myla on the sly, I must recruit Walker’s help. My scheme is simple: get a message to Myla that defines a time and place to meet. Unfortunately, my thrax messengers will be spied leaving camp for Purgatory. My plan would be uncovered in a heartbeat. No question about it. When it comes to getting secret notes to Myla, it’s Walker or nothing.
Once I’m done with my parents, I head back to my cabin and scribble out a fast parchment.
* * *
Walker, I need to get a message to Myla. You around? — Lincoln
* * *
The reply follows quickly.
* * *
Just called to Earth for water elementals. Big rush. Will portal to your cabin when possible. — Walker
* * *
Now, I’ve always known my friend was involved in unusual stuff. But elementals are rarely interact with any outsiders. Based on the tone of Walker’s note, my friend has no idea when he’ll be returning.
Which is a major letdown.
When you miss someone—and that someone is Myla Lewis—you really want to know when you’ll see her again.
One week passes.
Two.
I contemplate reaching out to Ike. Maybe he can connect with Walker on Group Think. In the end, I dismiss that idea. Knowing Walker, he could be in any number of risky situations. Best not to bother him until he resurfaces.
Yet I do miss my Myla.
To stay busy, I try deploying troops from Horus, Striga and Kamal in a unified defense of Antrum’s exit stations. Horus and Kamal send their soldiers. Striga does not. Lucas isn’t officially backing out of the treaty, but not deploying warriors? A serious problem.
I develop as back-up plan: recruit some minor houses as back-up in case Striga folds. I’ve sent a few letters. Gotten some sketchy replies. No one wants to agree to fight Acca by mail. If I’m going to get lesser houses to sign up, I’ll need to visit Antrum directly. Trouble is, touring hundreds of houses will be a real time-suck.
I’d rather Lucas just deploy his troops already.
In addition to anti-Acca military movements, I focus on battle training and my inter-realm map. In fact, I’m working on that very puzzle when Walker finally portals into my cabin. My friend looks even paler than usual. His cheeks seem hollowed out. In typical Walker fashion, he launches right into things.
“I won’t talk about the elementals.”
“Understood,” I say. Although based on how awful Walker looks, the story must be a whopper.
My friend plunks down onto a chair beside mine. He scans the table for a moment, then starts rearranging bits of the map. Hundreds of scraps line the tabletop. Many are tiny pieces of Heaven and Earth, outlined with quill and ink on parchment.
Walker moves a few bits around. “I saw your note about Myla.”
“And? Will you deliver a message for me?”
He taps his chin and shifts a few more pieces. “This is maddening.”
“The message or the puzzle?”
“Both.”
“Here’s the thing.” I purse my lips, trying to think of a good way to say what happened with the Earl of Acca. There really isn’t. “I made a deal with Aldred. I can’t see Myla unless he approves. I’d push him into backing down, but there are snags with my anti-Acca treaty.”
Walker sniffs. “Treaties.”
“Say what you like, they work. I’ll grant you, it’s not as dramatic as battle, but it’s what a true ruler does. Create strong alliances. Forge compromises. Kick ass.”
My true ruler speech always helps with Walker. He hates that I’m doing so much at eighteen. It’s not my joy either, but there isn’t anyone else who’s up for the job.
“Fine,” grumbles Walker. “Let me see it.”
One wall of my cabin is lined with bookshelves. Rising, I pull a small envelope out from its hiding place inside a particular volume. I then hand the message to Walker. “Please deliver this to Myla. It invites her to come to a battle practice that Nat is holding at the Ryder mansion. I’ll be there as well. Unofficially.”
Walker plucks the envelope from my fingers. “You’ll just stop by.”
“That’s the story.”
Walker taps the envelope on the tabletop. “I thought you’d sworn Myla off. You’re placing her at incredible risk. I made promises.” Walker huffs while staring at the ceiling. It’s his I’m exasperated face. “I can’t say more, except that you are a very real and specific danger to Myla Lewis.”
“Armageddon is worse. The King of Hell is a danger to all of Purgatory. Plus, the old demon’s been rather quiet lately. I preferred him blustering about and causing trouble.”
“If Armie does anything, I’ll portal Myla to safety. We’ve discussed this already.” Which we have, numerous times. “No, I’m talking about you, Lincoln. You could place Myla at far greater risk than you know.”
Standing behind my chair, I grasp of the back panel tightly. “You’ve made your point. Clear, concise.”
“Good.” Walker offers me the envelope back.
I raise my hand, palm forward, in what I trust is a very clear motion for, keep that envelope right where it is, buddy. “That doesn’t change the facts. I wish to marry Myla Lewis. If she refuses me, that’s her choice, not yours.”
Walker’s mouth falls open. “You’re kidding.”
“Would I joke about my queen?” I ask.
“What does she know about this concept?”
I bob my head from side to side, thinking. “She’s warming to it.”
Walker sighs. “Come now. I know you’ve been miserable missing her, but marrying Myla? This is rash.”
“Allow me to explain. Hers is the face I wish to see when I awaken, the hand I plan to hold all day long, and the touch I need beside me as I drift off to sleep. What’s more, I believe the same is true for her. We’re one soul in different bodies. The same vibrancies and passion within, yet with different outward expressions. Together, we will make each other stronger. More alive.” I grip the wooden chair so tightly, it starts to creak. “And if you think for one moment that I’ll do anything but fight for her with everything in me, then you’re sorely mistaken. Deliver the message or don’t. When it comes to Myla Lewis, I will find a way.”
Walker sighs. I fight a grin. I’m getting to him.
“How fares your anti-Acca treaty?” asks my friend.
“Striga, Horus and Kamal have signed. Lucas won’t actually deploy soldiers, though. If Striga backs out, I’ll need a lot of lesser houses to take his place. That will be months of travel through Antrum. That message?” I gesture toward the envelope. “It could be one of the last times I see Myla for some time.”
Walker slips the envelope into the folds of his ghoul robes. “Fine. I’ll deliver it. But I have one condition.”
“Go on.” Unlike Aldred, Walker knows how to drive a bargain.
“I told you I made some promises in relation to Myla, and I’ve pushed the limits of those vows and for your benefit.”
That perks my interest. “How so?”
“To begin with, you shouldn’t even know that I deliver Myla to her arena fights. If her mother found out …” He shudders.
“Fair enough. So what is my official understanding of your role in Myla’s life?”
Walker pats the spot where he stowed the envelope. “I delivered this message to Myla for you.”
“And that’s it? Seriously?”
“Is it too much to ask?” There’s an edge to Walker’s voice.
“Not at all.” I hold my hands palms forward in a gesture for, whatever you want. “You are officially the delivery boy. You can be an exotic dancer for all I care, so long as you get Myla the envelope. Only, I leave soon for Antrum, so please deliver it right away.”
“And so I will.” He points at the empty seat across from him. “But for now, I need you to work on this puzzle with me. And call in the servants. Cough syrup for me and mead for you. We both need a break.”
It must certainly have been a time with element
als for Walker to actually want a break and cough syrup. The man is a worse workaholic than I am.
“Consider it done.” I head to the cabin door, ready to call for a personal guard. They always remain within shouting distance and are happy to pass on messages to the servants. As I cross the room, I hear Walker muttering under his breath.
“Exotic dancer,” he grumbles.
Uh oh. Walker sounds especially grouchy tonight. I’ll make sure to order him some extra cough syrup for all his trouble, both for me and the elementals.
After all, how would any of us get by without Walker?
28
Days slog by. At last, it’s time for my secret meet-up with Myla. Nat and I set up a battle practice area in the Ryder ballroom. Both of us sport human-style workout sweats for the occasion. And so we wait: me, my Master at Arms, and a lot of practice mats on the wooden floor.
“I’m sure she’ll be here soon,” says Nat.
“She will.”
Walker swore it would happen.
And my friend is never wrong.
While we wait for Myla, I throw punches with Nat. Energy streams through my limbs. My girl will be here soon. I can’t wait.
Myla’s voice echoes through the ballroom. “Hello!”
Nat stops and waves. “Hello there!”
Now, I could pause and wave as well. But Nat spent years training me, starting at the ripe old age of four. One of his favorite practices was to get into battle position, call a start, and then have someone release an animal from the royal menagerie, usually my cat, Perkins. When I’d inevitably yell ‘kitty,’ then Nat would then flatten me. It taught me a valuable lesson. Stay alert. Even so, did I mention I was four at the time? Which means that in this moment, I shall show no mercy.
While Nat happily waves at Myla, I drop to my knee, swoop my free leg, and slam it against Nat’s shins. My Master at Arms tumbles forward, hitting the matt face first. WHAM.
That was for you, Perkins.
I rise. “Always stay mindful of the battle, Nat. You taught me that.” I jog to the edge of the mats, pull on a white t-shirt and wave at my girl. “Hello, Myla!”
Lincoln Page 25