A Tiara of Emerald Thorns

by R Cavanaugh

“Nightsky.”

  Chapter 24

  The Horrifying Discovery

  Heartington Castle

  Rachel MacNeil was going about her duties as a maid for Jonathan Stipes, the younger brother of the tyrannical king that she, along with many others, was trying to overthrow. For she was more than she appeared. She was a Cryptic Conspirator, and while she looked harmless enough to a passerby, she could kill as quickly as any other assassin.

  However, the position she had taken, or rather, volunteered for, had not turned out as useful as she and her fellow spies had hoped. Nearly a year’s worth of work had yielded little to almost no results. And out of those few bits of information she had gathered, practically nothing had been useful.

  “Rachel.”

  It was Damien, her white cat, and he was trying to get her attention.

  “What?” she asked in a whisper, now brought back to her surroundings and the basket of clothing she was carrying.

  The clothing was Jonathan’s, and she was carrying it down to the wash where she would retrieve the things she had left a few days previous.

  “Do you hear that?” he whispered back.

  “Hear what?”

  But then she did hear it. Several pleas of mercy and constant sobbing coming from the end of the hall that they were traveling down.

  “That’s normal, Damien.” She sighed sadly at the truth of the statement. “People are always screaming down here, it seems.”

  She began to start up again, as it seemed she had stopped while she was listening.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head and taking a few cautious steps toward a hallway that was to their left. “It’s coming from down this hall.”

  “Yeah,” she said, rolling her eyes and looking up the ceiling, “that’s the way down to the dungeons and such.”

  Once again she made an attempt to continue on her way, but Damien stopped her by standing in her way, and she gave him an annoyed look.

  “Damien, people are going to get suspicious if they see us standing here chatting.”

  “Rachel, you’ve been here so long that you have completely forgotten where things are in this place,” Damien said, continuing to hold his position in front of her and now making her look down the very hall they were discussing. “This hallway leads to the second courtyard.”

  “All right,” she conceded and gave him a smirk. “So why would they be taking a prisoner in that direction, do you suppose?”

  “Why ask me when you already know the rumors?”

  “Yes, but that is all they are, Damien: rumors.”

  “Then,” he said, and he jumped into the hallway, “let us go and prove or disprove them.” He then began to carefully and soundlessly walk down the hallway to the door that lay at the far end.

  “Damien!” she hissed.

  The second courtyard he thought he was heading toward lay on the side of the castle that faced the Mountains of Treachery. But what didn’t make sense to her was that the only things that were in that courtyard were the stables for the elites’ horses.

  “Coming?” came the loud whisper of a Damien who had almost reached the door.

  “All right,” she whispered back, dropping the clothing in a small cabinet that was up against the wall facing opposite the hallway, “but I’m going to stick out.”

  “Just say that Jonathan wanted you to check his horse or something.”

  “Oh, because they won’t see through that,” she responded, rolling her eyes.

  She had covered most of the hallway’s distance during the conversation and was still walking very fast because she knew that getting caught down this way would require a seriously good story. She had finally reached the door, and while it had not been more than a minute, it had felt as though it had been a lifetime.

  She placed her hand on the door and pushed, praying that it hadn’t been locked behind the guards; it opened. What shocked her was that the courtyard was completely deserted.

  “Where did they go?” she whispered, shocked by the eerie silence about the place.

  “Should there be animals in the stables?” Damien breathed.

  “There are, but they aren’t making a sound,” she said, noticing that a normal horse was listening hard for something.

  Then there came a scream from the other side of the courtyard, and the same horse whinnied nervously as there came more pleas for mercy. The cries seemed to come from the stable that was directly across from the door that led back into the castle. The very door that they had just exited.

  “Damien,” she hissed, “I think that I should go back for my dagger.”

  “There’s no time, Rachel,” he said, looked both ways, and dashed across the courtyard and looked back her.

  “Damien,” she called softly, “I would feel safer with it.”

  “By the time you retrieve it, we will have lost our first real lead in all the time we have been here.”

  She rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time that day and ran across the courtyard after her cat, and all the while she thought about what she would say if caught. It’s easy for him, she thought, but if I get caught, I could blow my cover and the operation. What was worse is that she had been nowhere near as stealthy as her cat because the long dress she wore caused her to swear as it caught on one of the stones.

  “Argh,” she said as she reached the stable and wrenched the rest of the dress’s hem off by hand, “I hate this thing. It’s always in the way.”

  “Well now it’s not, so calm down and help me find out how to work the secret door.”

  “How do you know there is one?” she mocked as she began to look for one as well.

  “Ha ha,” he said, knowing that she knew full well that was the only explanation for the disappearance of the men.

  Damien began to paw at the wall that was in the very back of the stable, expecting it to open; all the while the horse was watching intently, as if to see if he would succeed. Rachel then walked over to it and began to do something with her hands, but whatever was meant to happen clearly didn’t.

  “This is turning out to be a pointless waste of time,” Damien hissed in frustration. “There must be a way…”

  Here he stopped because Rachel was tugging on the only harness in the room.

  “Oh, come now,” Damien snorted and sat down to watch her, “you can’t possibly tell me that it is that obvious.”

  “It isn’t,” she said.

  “Then why bother to…” But he was forced to stop because she gave him a dirty look that meant “Shut up.”

  She then grabbed the harness tightly and pulled herself up on one of the beams to the roof. In steadying herself she then used the toe of her boot in a notch that was just above the harness.

  Then, with a soundlessness that could only come from being created by magic, the wall opened. It opened as if it were a double door made of stone, and it held itself there, waiting for the entrant to come forth.

  “So how would they reach it, then?” Damien asked in a hushed voice.

  “I believe that it is the perfect-sized notch for a sword tip,” Rachel replied.

  “And as no one in this place doesn’t carry one…” Damien stopped at the look on her face because he realized that she would have brought hers if she had her way.

  “We should move before we are spotted,” she whispered.

  It was with these final words that they began to carefully enter the descending staircase before them.

  “Wait,” Rachel said and then looked down at Damien, “I think that maybe you should stay out here, in case I need to get out.”

  “How will I know it’s you?” he said, his eyes widening.

  “I’ll tap the wall two times quickly and then three times slowly,” she whispered, placing her right foot on the first stair.

  “I don’t know,
Rachel,” he said nervously.

  Suddenly there were voices that could be heard from down below. It was going to be now or never. Damien quickly jumped to the side of the stable and mouthed to Rachel, “Be careful.” She gave a quick nod in return and watched as the door noiselessly closed behind her.

  She took each step slowly and very carefully so as to avoid making any noise. The voices seemed to be growing louder, and so were the cries of pain. The pleas for mercy seemed to be multiplying the farther down she went as well. It seemed as though there was something that allowed for those in it to see what was coming, and they would beg for it not to come.

  Once she reached the landing, which she suspected was about twenty feet below ground, she began to tiptoe, in a manner of speaking, toward a brilliant light at the end of the hall.

  She stood very still and observed a group of men standing near several yards of thick glass, behind which was what must be the subject of interest. She decided to creep closer and stand behind a pillar that was nearest the group.

  Once in that position, she was finally able to see the scene more accurately. In the center and nearest to the glass was the king, with Exotius and Jonathan standing closest to him. The sight of the king, however unpleasant, was not what made her skin crawl with horror. Behind the glass was an eight-foot trasicore, and it was holding onto a man that was clearly screaming his head off. But it seemed that no sound was capable of escaping the glass enclosure. This must have been the man that was led down here, she thought.

  She expected to see him swallowed at any moment but watched, even more horrified as the creature’s long, gray tongue became tubular and wrapped itself around the man’s waist and into his pants. Here he was clearly at the point of extreme pain, and she was forced to look away, assuming that this creature was removing a vital part of this man’s life.

  “So this is a female, then.”

  Rachel was pulled unwittingly into the conversation of the men in front of her.

  “Yes,” was the reply, and it seemed to have come from the king himself, “A young one, though.”

  “Is she killing him?” one man asked.

  “Oh, no,” Igneous responded, sounding almost amused, “She is merely getting what she needs to fertilize her single egg from him, and once she is finished, she will release him, or if he was disappointing, eat him.”

  “Ah,” continued the man who asked the previous question, “must be why their numbers are so low. Not enough hosts survive their appetite.”

  “Yes, that is a common problem,” the king replied. “They think with their stomachs before all else. Only older ones are more responsible.”

  Rachel felt ill. What these men were discussing was sick. They were using humans to aid in the reproduction of trasicores, and it seemed that the creatures were indeed parasites, as long suspected. Her thoughts on the matter were interrupted by the trasicore releasing the man unceremoniously. As it was walking away, it placed a slimy green egg the size of a walnut on a stone in the forested area, just in range of the glass viewing area.

  Two guards stood in front of a door that must lead to the enclosure, and in getting the go-ahead from the king, they went in. They could next be seen carefully removing the now limp form of the man from behind the glass.

  “So I take it that a human female is needed for the second half of the process.” Came a weak-voiced Jonathan.

  “Yep,” said a voice that came from directly behind her, and two very strong arms wrapped around her and dragged her into the group. It was Exotius, and she, having been so mesmerized by what she had seen, hadn’t kept track of him.

  “And I found us a volunteer.”

  Chapter 25

  A Punishable Offense

  Trasicore Breeding Center, Heartington Castle

  “Well, well, well,” Igneous said and crossed his arms, allowing a funny smile to come over his face as he looked upon the maid that had snuck in the room. “I think that she just might have a little explaining to do.”

  “And I think that she got here by accident,” Jonathan piped in, his voice cracking, and that alone made his suggestion far from convincing.

  “Then what would be your explanation for her ending up down here?” Igneous said as he went from looking at the maid to down at the floor for a moment. Then, still smiling a strange smile, he looked at his brother with one hand coming up to his chin.

  “Well,” Jonathan paused, looking from Rachel to his brother, clearly coming up with a story or trying to, “she…she could’ve been…”

  “Could have been…” Igneous said, his smile widening, “spying.”

  “No,” Jonathan said, starting to sweat, “no, that’s not what I was going to say.”

  “Well that is what I believe she was up to, and I doubt you can provide a better explanation.” Igneous grinned and privately believed that Jonathan’s story most likely wouldn’t even sway a small child, much less a group of grown and experienced men.

  “She most certainly didn’t get here by accident.” Exotius groaned while holding the woman fast while she struggled. “She was standing over by that pillar for quite some time before I decided to do anything.”

  Igneous began to look her up and down. She was quite pretty, but not his type, although she was very spirited and fairly strong. She was doing pretty well at giving Exotius quite a hard time, and that said quite a bit for her and how strong she was.

  “What is your name, my dear?” he asked her while examining his hands, and in looking up he watched as she tried to figure out how to best answer him.

  “What do you care, if you’re going to feed me to that thing anyway?” Her voice was determined, and her eyes cold.

  “Maybe if I like it, I won’t do as you say I’m going to.” He looked at her, smiling evilly, his eyes on fire. It was, of course, a lie, but she didn’t need to know that.

  Jonathan seemed to seize an opportunity and stood close to his brother to speak. In fact he was standing closer than he would usually dare to.

  “Her name is Rachel,” Jonathan whispered in his brother’s ear while Igneous continued to look at his hands, “Rachel MacNeil.”

  Igneous knew his brother too well to be fooled by the caring appearance his brother was presenting at the moment. He was just trying to keep open his opportunity to be with this maid and share an intimate moment. He knew that if Jonathan had already gotten what he wanted from her, this conversation wouldn’t be happening. Too bad for Jonathan; Igneous didn’t care.

  “Rachel,” Igneous said quietly, thoughtfully. Now that name did seem familiar. Where have I heard it before? he thought.

  “You wouldn’t, perhaps, be Danny MacNeil’s sister, would you?” he said and was at last looking into her eyes in a very pointed manner. He smiled once more as he watched the anger build in those usually warm brown eyes.

  “You leave my brother out of this,” she said slowly, her voice shaking with anger along with the rest of her.

  “Oh I would worry about him, if I were you.”

  “And why is that?” she said. Her voice was pure venom.

  “Well, I don’t think he needs you to worry for his safety anymore,” Igneous said, taking a step toward her as most of the men cleared farther away from the four in the middle. “What do you think, Exotius?”

  “No,” Exotius said as he continued to struggle with her, “no, I wouldn’t bother.”

  “Yah,” she said as managed to elbow him, causing him to let out an involuntary breath and causing Igneous to chuckle slightly, “and why’s that?”

  “Because I already killed him for committing treason.”

  Igneous watched with pleasure as Rachel went white and as her face filled with an angry shock. I relish moments like this, he thought. Because he knew better than most that everyone has something to lose.

  Her stunned nature finally allowed Exotius t
o regain control of her and gain the upper hand. He now held her fast. Though she tried to, she now had no chance of breaking free.

  “Now,” Igneous said, closing the rest of the distance between him and her, “I think that it is time that I confirm something I have thought for quite some time.”

  Now standing inches before her, he pulled out his small dagger. He then grabbed ahold of her left arm and gripped it tight with his right hand.

  “If you wanted to hold my arm, all you could’ve done is ask,” she said smartly, continuing to glare at him.

  Smiling but not gratifying her taunt with an answer, he used the dagger to cut off the sleeve of her dress. There, exactly where he thought it would be, was a circle with a dagger-pointed T in the center.

  “That’s what I thought,” he said, scowling, releasing her arm, and putting his dagger away. After being sure Exotius had her in a good grip, he walked back toward the glass.

  “She’s a spy!” Jonathan cried out in shock and fury, “She’s been using her access to me to report on you!”

  While he had figured that Jonathan hadn’t had a clue, Igneous didn’t share his brother’s shock. The fact that his brother was shocked didn’t even surprise him. He knew that Jonathan didn’t usually see the signs for anything, even the most obvious things.

  “How did you know?” Jonathan said, now stabbing her with his eyes.

  So much for having my brother as her ally, Igneous thought.

  “She gave herself away,” he said softly, still staring through the glass. He was waiting. He knew that he needed to wait for just the right moment.

  “How do you mean, sire?” one of the aids asked, and in order to answer and to best make his point, he turned around.

  “Because she requested to be Jonathan’s maid,” he said, and he looked right into her eyes as he did so. He wanted to see her recognition when it came time.

  “So?” she said, clearly missing the point, and he smiled at her, unsettling her slightly.

  “Yah, Igneous,” Jonathan said, clearly confused himself, “that really isn’t uncommon.”