Kalah shrugged. “I’m not. You are.”
Zykeiah frowned. “What?”
“Let me in.”
Zykeiah stepped back from the door, and Kalah came in. Still bearing the wounds from yesterday’s battle, he limped as he walked.
“You’re in. Tell me what the hell is going on.” Zykeiah put her hands on her hips.
“Last evening, the queen stayed Manola’s deportation in favor of sitting in judgment. Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.” Zykeiah shook her head in disbelief. “You’re serious.”
“Yes. Mom feels we must adhere to the rules or other kingdoms might protest. By the goddess, I miss the time when we remained isolated and alone in our little icy pocket of the galaxy.”
Akub bit her lip to keep from shouting. The spell wouldn’t hold two whole rotations.
“What of Akub?” Zykeiah gestured to her.
As before, at the mention of her name, Kalah looked at her and saw her.
“Ah, she must stay, too, as she is a witness. Looks as the goddess has smiled on you again, Devourer.”
“What am I late for?” Zykeiah asked, keeping her gaze on Kalah.
Kalah closed his eyes and laughed before opening them. “Duty. We’re taking shifts guarding the prisoner. I guess Marion forgot to tell you.”
“Surely not?” Zykeiah called as she hurried to her bedchamber to dress.
“He did.”
“If he had told me, I would’ve been at my post,” Zykeiah snapped. She dropped her robe and dressed, scooping up articles of clothing from her bed. While she dressed with haste, Kalah waited on the other side of the screen.
When she re-emerged, Zykeiah’s sword caught the sun’s pale illumination as if begging to be taken. It was the only light in the bedchamber. “Go to the others! I’ll go after Manola.”
Instead, she set about attaching her daggers.
Kalah shrugged. “I beg forgiveness.”
“Get out.” Zykeiah didn’t look up as Kalah retreated to the door.
As he opened it, Marion stepped in, nearly knocking his brother in the face.
“Oh. Kalah.” Marion grinned, his eye still closed and darkened, but less puffy.
“I’ve managed to anger Zykeiah,” Kalah confessed with a head toss back toward them.
“Not hard to do,” Marion said.
“Her candlewick is entirely too short," Kalah shouted as he slipped through the door.
Akub could feel Zykeiah grow angry.
“I beg forgiveness, Zykeiah, for not alerting you last evening to the change of plans. My momma, the queen, decided a different course to handle Manola. Sarah, Octiva, and I have kept watch over the prisoner, and it is now, your turn.”
Zykeiah did not meet his eyes. Something about her motions spoke to her displeasure.
Akub studied the hulking minister. With his red-rimmed eyes and slow movement, Marion didn’t appear to have slept at all. Sluggish, he leaned back against the door.
“Zy…”
“I got it.” She hopped up, waved him off her door, and headed out without another word.
Marion let out a frustrated growl. He caught himself and glanced over to Akub. “You’re to go to the holding cell, too.”
Akub groaned. “We tried that already. Remember?”
“’Tis not my purpose to question, only to obey. Come.”
Akub got to her feet with a numbing disbelief filtering over her person. She grabbed what little she had, her own blood pumping with speed and fear. “Your mom’s idea.”
“I wanted Zykeiah to escort you, but…”
Akub gave a small smile. “Yes.”
“It will be over soon, and you’ll be back on Saturn Four in no time,” Marion said, his voice weary.
“Yes,” Akub agreed, but she had the feeling that neither of them believed it.
14
Spoken Truth Comes to Pass
"Where is the heat in this horrid place?" Zykeiah swore as she paced outside Manola’s cell.
The palace guard partnered with her ignored her as he inspected his gloved hands. Another guard poked at the tie on his cloak. The queen’s castle, already a massive structure, continued to be stretched to encompass more rooms. The din from the workers—sledgehammering, quarreling, and carving—did not distract her from her task. Zykeiah watched Manola with careful eyes. No doubt the shrewd sorceress plotted an escape. They had captured almost everyone on Solis, except Manola. That took a certain intellect.
“Cursed woman!” Zykeiah said, bitterness flooding her mouth. “I cannot wait for you to get off my planet.”
The guard hunched back into his cloak, as if afraid.
Across from them, Manola grinned as if she could read her thoughts.
Zykeiah resumed pacing, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Akub’s spell had begun to dissolve. She’d known Manola would come for them. When they brought Amana back with them, Zykeiah had protested then as she had now about Akub. Perhaps it had been her Saturn Four upbringing, but one did not give a snake another chance to strike.
Part of it, she knew, resided in the queen’s upbringing and the teachings of what she called Christianity, a foreign religion brought to the ice planet by Minister Marshall. He’d taught it to Zoë when both were in their youth, prior to their marriage. It drove Zoë’s parents mad with confusion, and they set it to Zoë’s rebellion. Yet, Marshall believed in this one male Supreme Being. Moreover, he had taught Zoë about the greatness of forgiveness. In time, Zoë became a priestess of Ana, but only after Marshall’s death. She still believed in forgiving others.
Why? Zykeiah didn’t know because all she saw was harm, pain, and agony at the end of forgiveness.
Akub.
Zykeiah’s heart pinched. She’d told Akub she forgave her, and she had. Perhaps, that forgiveness lesson had rubbed off on her, too.
“What are you smiling about?” Manola coughed out seconds before a shimmer of eerily green light snagged Zykeiah’s attention.
NO!
Manola laughed. A slivery ooze seeped from the pores on her hands. The globs gelled and formed a round globe as they stretched outward. The eerie green glow chased the shadows from her dim cell. The sphere rippled and expanded.
Zykeiah stabbed the sphere with her daggers, but the ooze claimed them.
“Go! Get the other ministers! Now!”
The guard ran off. The other guard freed his sword and readied for the battle, taking his cue from her.
“Oh, oh my!” Manola said, a wicked grin appearing on her face.
“Stop!” Zykeiah punched the glob, but her fists rebounded back, forcing her to stumble.
The sphere grew larger, filling the tiny closet-like cell, and soon it pressed against the metal bars. The bubble seemed to be made of sterner stuff despite its jelly-like feel. Footsteps thundered as Marion and Akub arrived with a handful of guards.
Akub lifted her hands and shouted, “Hold!”
Manola slammed back against the wall, but the sphere continued to grow.
“Break them, like brittle wood,” Manola muttered with her eyes locked onto the bars. Like snapping twigs weakened from the cold, the bars collapsed, flying across the hall and smacking the wall in pieces of metal, showering Zykeiah with debris.
“I can’t keep her there forever,” Akub gasped.
Marion’s sword fell onto the sphere, but it did not burst. “What is this?”
With her teeth clenched in concentration, Manola’s eyes, wide with wickedness, gleamed in the globe’s glow.
“My sword has no effect!” Marion replaced his sword and stepped toward the cell. He tried to grab the sphere but rebounded off it. With force, it plowed into him, sending him to the floor. Bone cracked as his body thundered to the ground.
Akub screamed as she dropped to her knees, exhausted.
Manola fell to the floor. She rubbed her neck as she stood up.
Free. As she stepped out of her cell, she clapped her hands together and whispered, �
��Vanish.”
The sphere’s hardened green chunks dissolved. Only bits of bars and Zykeiah’s daggers lay scattered across the floor. The nature of evil etched across her face.
Several of the guards roared in courage and rushed her.
Manola took one of the swords from the guard, disarming him with relative ease, and drew the knight across his jaw, spilling his blood like a sieve. The other two attempted to slice and stab her. Manola grabbed the other with her free hand, fractured his arm. He screeched. Shattered, he fell to his knees, sweat and tears dripping from his face.
“Stop!” Zykeiah roared. With her head ringing, she got to her feet and threw a punch at Manola.
Her fist connected, but Manola shook it off as if it meant nothing. With her red-lipped grin, she shoved Zykeiah, using magick to force her back with inhuman strength. Zykeiah landed hard, her vision blurred, and her eyes closed in agony.
Akub jumped on Manola, attempting to halt her escape. They whirled around, Akub’s dark green cloak smearing with the inky black of Manola’s bodysuit. Screams and grunts and the influx of guards all converged on the prisoner.
“No! No!” She reached out to stop Manola from escaping.
Zykeiah groaned and touched the tender part of her head. Marion came from the rear. With his hand on the hilt of his sword, he made his way to the front.
Manola threw Akub off and started down the corridor.
“Manola!” Akub started, but a hard tug sent her propelling backward.
“Slow down,” Zykeiah whispered as she caught Akub’s fall. “This is what we do.”
“Yes, but you can’t touch her. You need me.” Akub held up her hands again.
Zykeiah touched her cheek. “I do. I don’t need you dead.”
Behind them, a scream tore through the quiet. Marion raced toward it with Akub on her heels, but stopped. The corridor looked the same, but it didn’t feel the same.
Akub said to Zykeiah, “There are remnants of magick here. It claws at me.”
Zykeiah inched out from behind Marion, and to her horror, discovered the two guards collapsed onto either side of the entrance to the queen’s rooms. One’s skull had been bashed in. One of them wiggled, but stopped. Some say the muscles do that after death. Their opened eyes stared into the hereafter. She’d seen the dead before, but this ignited her anger.
Ahead, at the mouth of the queen’s quarters, Octiva appeared. She floated, her locked hair flowing in an otherworldly wind, her eyes white, their pupils gone, and her hands sprayed wide with large green light illuminating from her. The markings pulsated in time to the green light. Levitating, she whirled around to face them, and in a voice that sounded like many, she spoke.
“Manola is no longer here.”
“And the queen?” Marion sheathed his sword, apparently satisfied the threat had left this area.
“Safe.” The verdant illumination fell dark, and just as suddenly as she appeared, Octiva touched down to the floor, unconscious. Just as she said these words, she collapsed. A heavy quiet blanketed the hall.
Akub raced over to her. “Elder! Elder!”
Zykeiah headed for the stairs. “I’m taking a guard to the Allerton Circle to confirm Manola is gone. “
“No. I want all ministers in your quarters, Zykeiah. Now,” Marion said and disappeared into the bedchambers.
Akub cradled Octiva in her arms. The elder had some damage to her face and hands, bloody spots and splotches along her cloak. Manola had been here and had come for the queen’s soul, just as Akub had expected.
Defeated once again, where would the sorceress go? Would she just leave empty handed?
Akub hoisted Octiva to a sitting position, but the darkness claimed her as well.
* * *
Something is amiss. Akub jolted awake, her head pounding in aguish. Moans pulled her attention to her surroundings. The cold stone floor made her face ache. Looking around, a scattering of guards and ministers lay unconscious or nursing injuries. A repeat of last evening, but with fewer injured. Yes, she’d seen this before.
Healers dressed in dark robes assisted them.
Manola!
As she sat up, the memories rolled forward in her mind, but the ceiling whirled and nausea threatened to overwhelm her. She lay back down.
“Whoa, there.” Octiva’s soft voice met her still-ringing ears from just behind her. Her hair was pulled up into a bun, and the scent of sweet bread lingered on her cloak.
“Manola. Escaped. The queen. Escaped.” Akub’s mouth rolled over the word as if it were foreign, and her mind tried to match up the words and with the elder at hand. If Manola had broken free, that meant that she was out in the cold morn, fleeing. Could cause death to all in her path.
“We need to move. Now!”
“We are not moving anywhere except to rest and recover. Ministers Kalah, Marion, and Sarah have all given chase. For now, you rest. Come.”
“Zykeiah?”
“In her quarters, healing. Do not worry. Come.”
Octiva helped Akub to her feet. Despite her thin frame, the elder’s strength surprised her. How had she recovered so quickly? As she steadied herself, Akub recalled the damage to the corridor, to the cells. Debris had been scattered across the floor. Pipes had damaged the wall across from the now vacant cell.
“No one in this castle could have done that kind of damage,” a palace guard said, his voice furious as it echoed in the corridor.
Akub had a feeling they were being polite and civil because Octiva was there, but secretly they angered and distrusted weavers and priestesses—women.
“Except them,” another added. “Those cells were demolished into bits. That reeks of sorcery.”
Octiva raised her chin in silent defiance. She met Akub’s gaze. “Let us get you to bed.”
Akub followed the elder around the injured and angry guards. She watched her feet and avoided the stony looks. Did they know she’d kidnapped their queen? Did they know she’d led Manola here?
Guilt covered her tighter than her favorite green cloak. With steady steps, she hugged the wall as she followed Octiva down the hall. Akub walked beside her, past the queen’s chambers, and on to a wooden door on the left. With a wave of her hand, the door creaked open, and Octiva entered.
“Where. Is. This?” Akub stumbled, as her legs became like heavy tree trunks.
“My chambers,” Octiva said.
Thick cloying lavender rolled out from the open door. Once Akub’s eyes adjusted to the inner dim, she could make out furniture. In the tight room, she spied Kanton, still unconscious on a padded makeshift bed. The blankets had been wrapped tight around his body, clear up to his neck so that only his head was visible.
Akub swallowed, her throat dry. He’d opened his home to her and helped a stranger find her way to the castle. What had Kanton gain for his kindness? Violence. She turned away with her heart hurting, no, burning as her anger ignited. The young lad didn’t deserve this. None of them did. The minister knights had signed on for violence and the threat of death, as did the palace guards, but this stable hand had not.
“What troubles you?” Octiva asked, her hands hidden beneath her cloak’s long sleeves.
“I‘ve devoured the peace here.” Akub grabbed Octiva’s arm. “You, too, know the oracle’s power. Why? Why did this happen?”
Octiva gently shrugged off Akub’s grasp as if it was nothing but a feather, to Akub’s amazement, for Octiva looked like she couldn’t lift a spoon without aid. “I know you did not assist Manola in her escape. As to why, well, you seek answers to which you already know. Now, rest.”
Octiva gestured to another makeshift bed, across the tiny room from Kanton’s.
Akub’s throbbing head and unsettled stomach further encouraged her to make her way to the pallet. With muscles aching, she got down on the floor, tossed back the blanket, and removed her boots. After a few moments to catch her breath, Akub pulled her cloak over her head and folded it neatly beside her. She prayed that whe
rever Zykeiah was that she was safe.
For the goddess, let them all be safe.
15
Empty-Handed
As Akub, Kanton, and others recovered from Manola’s second attack, Queen Zoë remained awake as the rotation headed toward nightfall. She knew chaos threatened to boil over once the news spread of Manola’s escape. No one would believe that Akub had not helped her to freedom nor that keeping the wicked being for two days had been a good plan.
“You should eat something,” Octiva said, her voice low but full of venom as she carried a meal tray into the queen’s quarters. “Nothing can be gained from an empty belly.”
Queen Zoë pulled her robe tighter around her waist, knotting the belt and shoving her hands into her pockets. Despite it being the Warming Season, the bedchamber felt chilly, even with a well-fed fire.
“Any word?” she asked, her eyes focused on the chest beside her bed where her husband’s ashes remained. She could sorely use his guidance now.
“None,” Octiva said. “All has been prophesied by the oracle.”
“The oracle predicted nothing. This is evil. Wickedness. Nothing more!” Zoë snatched herself away from the fireplace.
Octiva said nothing. She placed the tray on the queen’s bed.
Queen Zoë sighed, feeling her age was becoming more and more common. The magical healing of the Bandon tree roots had waned, taking the illness that ate at her stomach away, but not removing old age. Her hair, braided into a long, single plait, lay across her shoulder, and she fingered it, feeling the strands of silver.
She continued. “Does it matter whether it be by her death or by her absence that we are rid of her and the evil she brought with her from the black planet?”
“Are we rid of her?” Octiva asked.
The forest will kill them, for surely she is not prepared for the trek, Zoë thought. Out loud, she asked, “What of this new magick she performed?”
“Marion said it began with a green light.”
“A bright green light,” she muttered. She scratched her head and turned her gray eyes to Octiva. “A green light…”
Devourer: A Minister Knight Novel (The Minister Knights Series Book 2) Page 11