Manola smiled. She wasn’t alone on this planet. No, she had another ally. One of which the ministers would not see coming—or going, for that matter.
As a new plan unfolded, Manola laughed, spooking the birds and animals hidden in the snow.
She looked across the river. In the distance, billowing smoke soared above the treetops.
“Be comforted and warm for now, minister knights. It will only be but a blink before the waking horror of my destruction is visited upon you.”
To escape the harshness of Veloris’s climate, Manola used her powers to create a sphere that carried her through the Northern Forest, across the Capolla River, and on to the east, which lay a forbidden land of the ancients, the land of death, the Land of Lundlei, where it was rumored the goddess Marvelina’s children were slaughtered by those of the Goddess Ana.
Manola smiled.
Perfect.
17
Secrets
The cells on either side of Manola’s had been thoroughly ravaged by what looked like a battering ram. The masons would be in to repair them, but first, the debris had to be cleared. Queen Zoë had ordered them left alone until she could inspect them herself. Sometimes, wisdom held more answer than strength and youth. So it was, she found herself in the center of the rounded corridor. The scent of ash lingered in the space.
Among the rubble of rock and steel, pieces of shattered sphere remained. Queen Zoë squatted and collected the pieces into her leather pouch. They hadn’t faded or dissolved. Marion had described it as a green light, one his sword nor Zykeiah’s daggers could pierce. Yet, it grew, swelled, and broke through the bars. The material had come from Manola’s palms, or so she believed.
What strange sorcery is this?
She’d been reared in this castle, on this planet, and she’d never seen anything like this. Yes, Sarah’s powers of calling fire had surprised her, too, but Zoë had read about those abilities. The goddess gave many gifts. Fire was one of Earth’s elements. She held one of the shards to her nose. It smelled like smoke. Zoë put the piece back into the pouch. This wasn’t ordinary fire, or goddess-sanctioned flame. No, this fire was green.
“Your highness?” one of the palace guards designated to protect her inquired from his position.
As if one guard could protect her from what Manola wrought. She pulled back from her musings to look at him. “Yes?”
His eyes shifted around the area before flitting back to her. “How much longer, ma’am?”
“As long as I see fit, guard. Put your courage to the sticking place or dissolve right here into a puddle of cowardice. For goddess’s sake, make a decision!”
“Yes, your highness!” He snapped to attention, thrusting out his chest—and his belly—in the process.
Zoë blotted him out of her mind as she refocused on the task at hand: discovering Manola’s new magick and its source. She secured the pouch about her waist and surveyed the rest of the damage. Dried blood, ripped and sheared pieces of cloth mixed across the floor. She walked into the cell itself, and here, too, the strong hint of smoke remained. Not overpowering, but a faint whiff of something smoky and other.
“Guard, where is Akub the Devourer?”
“At last reported, she remained in the library.”
“Bring her to me.”
“Ma’am?”
Zoë turned to face him, pinning him with her gaze and letting her disappointment spill onto her face. “Bring the Devourer to me. Now!”
“Y-yes your highness.” He bowed and hurried off.
Zykeiah told her very little about the Devourer that she didn’t already know. She and Zykeiah had been lovers, on the brink of being wed, when Manola tore through their relationship like a violent storm. Once in Manola’s bosom, Akub became a weapon. They’d both been young, and even now, the minister knight wasn’t sure if she should trust Akub. She prodded further. A magick weaver, Akub’s power drew from her inner chakras. The Solis sphere only served to amply Akub’s magick. Zoë came out of the cell and into the debris once more.
Zykeiah readily admitted that on this topic, she wavered. Of this, Zoë agreed. Akub had soul snatched her, and for whatever reason she gave—misguided or not—the act spoke to a certain recklessness to which no minister knight could subscribe.
Or queen for that matter.
* * *
Akub looked up from the book as the heavy library doors creaked open. A guard emerged from the shadows, his face grim and his lips trembling. He stopped several paces from her chair. She inspired such delicious terror in others, and she allowed herself a brief revel in it before offering the pudgy man a kind smile.
“Queen Zoë demands your presence.” His voice shook.
“Now?”
“Now.”
Akub closed the book and got to her feet, spooking the guard. He leapt back a few paces more and put his hand on his sword’s hilt. She could make him devour his blade, but she extinguished the thought before it manifested. Those days lay behind her. Not far, but still in the rear.
“I will follow you.” Akub gestured toward the doors.
“No, not behind me,” he thundered, his grip tight on the hilt.
“Then where am I to find the queen?” Akub remained still. No sudden movement.
The guard failed to relax his stance or his grip on the sword’s hilt.
Then she invoked her magick. “Be calm.”
She devoured his fear, settling him as the tattoos on her hands tingled.
The moment of confusion flashed across his face before he coughed out, “Follow me.”
Akub grinned, and her hands cooled as the burning ceased, the magick waned. “Indeed.”
He turned on his heels, his stance more casual than when he first entered the library, a loose grin upon his ruddy cheeks. Akub stayed a few paces behind as to not seem under the guard’s control. Being summoned to the queen hinted at some infraction or offense that had been made. She followed the guard through the castle and up to the holding cells, where she found the queen, rummaging through the debris.
Akub cleared her throat. “Your highness?”
“What do you see here, Devourer?” Zoë asked, her tone sharp enough to puncture holes in Akub’s chest.
“A brawl occurred here. Manola escaped. We tried to stop her.” Akub rubbed her hands together. Not for the first time did she suspect Zoë to be unhinged.
“Yes, and?”
“Rubble. Bits of sorcery.” Akub searched closer. Across from the splats of blood, toppled stones, and broken bits of iron were sheared fragments of Manola’s sphere. Their hum vibrated across her skin.
“Power is here.”
She glanced over to see Zoë nod. The queen visibly relaxed.
“There’s this nothing between you and Manola. Fill it for me.” Zoë clasped her hands in front of her, and her long gown brushed the floor as she paced.
Akub stilled. “What do you mean, your highness?”
The queen rounded on her. The polite cool melted into unfiltered frustration.
“You know what I mean. You’re the Devourer. You’ve killed people at Manola’s whim! She’s done the same thing here. I want to know, now, what the hell you’re doing here!”
“We’re all on edge, your highness. My past bears no weight on this…”
“I will judge all that occurs on Veloris.” Zoë crossed her arms and closed the distance between them. “Did you bring that terror here to destroy us?”
“No.”
She thought this had been all settled. The queen’s reluctance to fully accept Akub to her bosom without prejudice. Zoë gave her the grin of death.
Akub had long since grown accustomed to outbursts like the queen’s judgment. She released a small breath before speaking.
“Being the Devourer left me lonely in the company of others. Even now, I need tenderness, and that’s not in people’s nature, not even yours, your highness. I’m not that person anymore.”
“Lies. Falsehoods. You led her h
ere. You soul snatched me!” Zoë roared.
Akub’s face felt hot. “And I work to send her back! There’s another here who had done the same as I. For her, you gave her your son!”
The queen fell back a step, mouth agape.
Hot with anger, Akub turned on her heel, threw up her cloak, and started back down the corridor with her hands tingling. The queen feared the servants’ exodus. Akub saw it in the older woman’s jumpy movements and hesitations. Yet, fear acted like a slow poison, infecting a society. She’d witnessed it in multiple kingdoms. One of the men had grabbed a servant by the ears and yelled at her.
Instead of allowing people to make their own decisions, the rulers buried their dirty and secret insecurities into their hearts, rather than reveal their fear or work toward solutions.
“It was a question of affection!” Zoë shouted after her. “How dare you judge me?”
Akub paused and turned back to her. “We are all worthy of affection, not just your precious sons. All are worthy to bask in the warmth of forgiveness.”
“I’m aware! I refused to deny him happiness. Yet, as of late, it has curdled to hate. Kalah has become a shadow of the man he once was.”
As unsettled by so many memories, Akub frowned. The queen seemed to be a mess of emotions.
“What do you want of me?”
Akub stiffened. “I’ll leave, but only when Manola’s stopped and defeated. Then I’ll go.”
With that said, Akub left, her ears burning in fury. Her hands burned as her magick ignited once more. She wouldn’t lash out at the queen; instead, she’d show her how much she’d changed.
18
A Vanishing
All searches for Manola had been ended with the expectation that the sorceress had indeed left the ice planet. Akub could tell that none of the ministers believed this, despite the queen’s orders to cease searching. The feeling that they’d left something undone permeated the air and guided their actions. No one had gone to Stocklah, a popular destination during the Warming Season. None of them strayed too far from the castle. They listened intently to servant conversations and whispered to each other in corridors of gossip. Their trust had been devoured. Each person watching the other. Neighbors suspected the other of collusion with Manola or that they’d spied her. As stories frayed, they dug out nuggets of information.
On this day, the minister knights agreed to meet in the Great Hall for midday meals, but thus far only Marion, Kalah, and Zykeiah had arrived. Seated in the Great Hall, Akub’s appetite did not stir. Beside her, Zykeiah, already emptying bowl of gosha, took notice of her failure to eat. She nudged her with her elbow, and when she looked over to Zykeiah, she the minister lifted her wooden spoon slowly, opened her mouth, and ate.
Akub groaned. In the last few days, she had grown to hate gosha. The icky, cold porridge only encouraged her appetite to stay hidden. The last time she ate, it ended up on her, the floor, and everywhere else. Splats of greenish vomit decorated the East Wing Hall.
“You must eat. I mean, you are the Devourer. This thing with Manola, it must be borne out, and you must be strong to confront it. That starts with eating well. Isn’t your magick fueled by chakra? A fed body is a fed soul.” Zykeiah called the serving woman over and ordered several eggs and more flat bread. Akub put her head down on the table. She hated eggs, too. The gooey slime that separated with the shell, the pinkish color of the egg's "flesh," the yolk, and the awful taste it left in her mouth long after she swallowed made her stomach roll over in protect.
“No.” Akub looked up.
“More for me?” Zykeiah shrugged.
In what seemed like the blink of an eye, the serving woman placed a round bowl stuffed with three eggs and two pieces of flat bread onto the table. Zykeiah devoured it without pause. With mouth stuffed, she stood up to get some water. Despite her bravery, her injuries from the battle with Manola slowed her. She didn’t show the pain on her face, but in her movements. Despite this, she walked as best she could.
“Where’s Sarah?” Marion asked as Katya placed a bowl of sweet bread on the table and a bowl of fresh greens in front of him.
Akub eyed the bread bowl. Legendary among those in the village, the castle’s sweet bread promised gooey deliciousness. It seductive aroma of sugary glaze and baked bread swirled up from the bowl.
“Go on. You’ve been dying to try it.” Zykeiah nudged her as she returned.
Marion pushed the bowl closer to her.
“Where’s everyone?” Marion folded his arms over his chest. “It seems no one felt it necessary to report their locations prior to scampering off. There’s a dangerous sorceress about.”
Kalah shrugged. “Amana said that she and Sarah were going to the central baths and then into the village to get some new clothes.”
“Octiva went to the oracle to consult the goddess.” Akub picked the edge of a sweet bread, her fingers sinking into its sticky warmth. She tore it quickly and shoved it into her mouth. So soft it threatened to fall to pieces. She pushed the gosha away from her. “This is fantastic!”
Zykeiah laughed, taking the bowl.
Marion scowled. “Sarah told me of no such trip.”
Kalah began eating his roasted henckens, tearing into the white meat with unusual aggression. The bird had already died and been cooked. “I only speak of what my wife has told me.”
Akub tore her attention away from her second piece of sweet bread. Something in Kalah’s tone and his body language gave her pause.
Something’s amiss.
“Akub, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen the hereafter.” Zykeiah put her mug of ale down. The grin vanished.
“Something’s wrong,” Akub said, getting to her feet.
“What?” Marion searched around the hall, his hand already on the hilt of his blade.
“I don’t know, but…”
“She’s gone!” Sarah burst into the hall. She stumbled as she reached their table.
Marion caught her as she fell.
She sobbed. “Amana is gone!”
Marion held her close to him. “Slow down, Sarah. Tell me what’s happened.”
Sarah took in a deep breath, but her voice trembled as if she had the shaking disease. “I went to see her for our trip to the village. When I entered Kalah’s quarters, I found her gone. All her things, too. I searched the castle, the village, and I asked Patches and Curt in the stables. She hasn’t taken a danker beast to any place. Indeed, they have not seen her either. She’s gone.”
“Where could she have gone? The oracle?” Marion asked.
“No, she has no connection to the oracle.” Sarah wiped her face.
The hairs on Akub’s neck rose. She’d been fearful of this since the day Manola came to the castle. Now, the other boot had fallen. Manola had made her move.
Zykeiah went to Sarah. “When did you see her last?”
Sarah swallowed the lump in her throat. “We had meals in the morn, the day of Manola’s arrival. Because of the searches, I haven’t seen her quite as often. Yet last evening she came to me after meals and asked me to join her on a trip.”
Zykeiah groaned. “Could she have gone to Stocklah with someone else who secured the dankers? Could she be in the village in disguise? To meet a merchant at the Circle?”
“She has no reason to go to the Circle,” Kalah interjected.
“Kalah, do you know more?” Sarah asked. Marion helped her to the table where he guided her to sit. Already tear-stained, Sarah’s face became more strained the more she spoke.
Kalah crossed his arms over his chest and avoided her pointed stare. “No.”
“You know Sarah’s sister means everything to her. So if you know something, Kalah, please tell her.” Marion hugged his wife as she began to weep.
“I know nothing!” Kalah shoved his bowl and jumped to his feet.
“I was afraid of this,” Akub said, drawing all eyes to her. “Manola came here. We all assumed it was for the queen’s soul or for me. Yet, I haven
’t had any contact with the sorceress for many rotations.”
“So?” Kalah growled.
Akub continued. “What if she hadn’t come here for the queen or me, but for Amana? Someone whose connection to her hadn’t been severed?”
Sarah clasped her hand over her mouth. “How dare you?”
Zykeiah looked to Marion. “She possessed Amana before.”
Akub said what they all must now be thinking. “What if the soul Manola sought was Amana’s?”
Zykeiah shook her head. “That unnatural being fades into the darkness.”
Sarah shrieked. “No. No! Not Amana. Marion!”
Marion hushed her and kissed her forehead. “Why take Amana? She is neither minister nor priestess.”
Akub answered. “All the more pliable for Manola’s manipulation. Amana will be able to blend in and sway others for that very reason. She is not us, but one of them.”
“If Amana joins leagues with Manola, she’ll be killed before she’s had a chance to live,” Zykeiah said.
“Explain yourself, Devourer!” Sarah growled through tears.
Before, Sarah carried a strong sense of metal, like steel. Now, she wore a certain melancholy about her person. Amana was condemned, and that bore into Sarah’s bright and sunny disposition. Akub understood it. Dark secrets leeched out and infected everything with bloodied and black fingers. She understood the weight of those actions and soon, so would Amana. A life mired in death, bloodshed, and ice.
“Yes, I will since Amana isn’t the only one to snatch a soul.” Kalah’s eyebrows bent in an angry V over his eyes.
Akub paused. She took in the young prince. Kalah had all the right reactions to a man whose wife was missing. Anger. He seemed rattled down to his bones. Men always put their hands on women to make them do things. Was Kalah this kind of a man? If he did, it never worked. It spurned fear in the women, but deep inside there would be simmering anger. Did Amana have that?
Devourer: A Minister Knight Novel (The Minister Knights Series Book 2) Page 13