Devourer: A Minister Knight Novel (The Minister Knights Series Book 2)

by Nicole Givens Kurtz

  The Goddess Ana is the mother of the world. Zel, the ruler of the sky tried to take the world that Ana created from her by force. Ana, being a beautiful woman, seduced her brother Zalton, the god of battle and men and produced a race of warriors and knights to defeat Zel.

  These children stretched Zel across the world, thus giving us the sky. Each day, Zalton would remove his hot poker from the gods’ forge and sear the sky. This was the sun. Over the years, Zalton’s fire grew weaker and Veloris grew colder. The warriors to whom Zalton and Ana produced had begot a savage people whose love of battle flowed through their veins. It was a thirst that could not be quenched.

  Ana, sorrowed that so many of her children’s blood cried out from the ground, wept. Thus forming the first rainfall. This rain quickly filled the caverns and lines upon the world’s face, forming rivers, lakes, and ponds.

  But in the land of shadows and eternal night, Goddess Ana’s sister, Marvelina, roared and snatched pieces of her hair, tossing them into the night’s sky; they became the clouds. In her impassioned jealousy, she seduced Zel, the sky god, and lay with him. With her heart enlarged with fiery envy of her sister Ana’s children, she bore Zel sons and daughters of fire and scaly wings. The wings swooped down from the midnight sky as her seed overran Ana’s own offspring.

  In his fury, Zalton turned against Ana and using his great battle axe, cut her into pieces, thus creating the continents. Ana’s own blood filled the cuts, rising up hard and fast. Her painful shrieks shook the hills and mountains bringing forth hot, searing lava.

  But Marvelina’s sons and daughters fled to their father, Zel, to the sky.

  Great goddess, mother, and creator Ana was not to be undone. She gave to her children water, which is the opposite of fire. Instead of fire, that greedily devours all, water brought forth life.

  Using her beauty, Ana seduced Zel and forced him to align himself with her, for she would allow him to rule the sky once again without interruption from her. He agreed, and Ana raised the waters, drowning out those of Marvelina’s descent. Those who were unable to take flight perished immediately, but those who sought protection from their father in the air were disappointed, for Zel cast down lightening and singed their wings, forcing them to a watery death.

  Marvelina fled to the land of Lundlei, where she saved some of her children. She cursed Zel for betraying her. In the end, Zel felt sorry for his deed and cursed Ana. She had already given him control of the sky, and unable to take back her word, she could do nothing when he allowed the sun to shine and the waters recede. Then, he permitted snow to fall. He vowed that Veloris would always be as cold as Ana’s heart when she lay with him.

  * * *

  Meanwhile, covered in layers of snow, Sarah shuddered under her cloak. The Antiqk Oracle glowed as soon as she reached the temple. Its watery voice called her forth. She left her danker beast under a small thatch of trees that shielded it from the brunt of the snowfall.

  The mouth of the Antiqk Oracle cavern seemed to be wide, eagerly waiting for its latest visitor. Red flecks of light, weathered stones, and intermingled vines of various colors and odors dominated the entranceway. The wind wrestled in the leaves at the mouth of the oracle.

  According to legend, the oracle only admitted one at a time; two would bring immediate death. Not to mention, the oracle’s prophesies were the business of the one entering the cavern and for no other. Yet, Sarah wondered why the oracle failed to speak about the Devourer’s claims or her presence on Veloris.

  Sarah entered into the cavern. The warmth caused pinpricks on her frozen fingertips. An odor of dampness rushed out to meet her, but once beyond the threshold, a sweet aroma of incense enticed her to keep moving forward. She walked to the glowing sphere of the Antiqk Oracle. About the size of a fully-grown melon, the Antiqk Oracle resembled the blue spheres that Valek once used to capture souls, except this one was six times as large and rested in the huge chiseled open palm of a great hand that rose from the ground. The hand of the Goddess Ana, mother of the world, from her flesh did the oracle come.

  The orange glass hummed a rhythm to its pulsating glow over and over again without pause. Ready to speak.

  “Great oracle, mouth of the Goddess Ana, I am here to save my sister. Hear my prayer.” Sarah coughed to steady the tremble in her voice. She placed both her hands on the oracle, feeling the images and marks on her hands burn and sting as the oracle awakened to converse with its priestess. She could see the oracle blinking faster and faster, spinning as it bridged the gap between itself and Sarah’s psyche.

  “You come for answers that have already been given to you,” the oracle’s watery voice accused, with a tiny hint of laughter.

  “My sister is not guilty of this deed to which she has been accused,” Sarah said. Although inside she knew, deep, buried beneath loyalty and loneliness for her sister, she knew that Amana had indeed betrayed Kalah, betrayed them all and fled to the sorceress’s arms once more.

  The oracle knew as well. Immediately Sarah’s mind was filled with images of Amana traveling through the Northern Forest. Beside them, in the vision, were swords, shields, and satchels, which Sarah knew to be those of a minister knight. No servant had these items, for the shield bore the symbol of the knights, a raised M with a sword slashed through it. Amana and Manola engaged in a dark place. The mental images smeared.

  “Goddess, no! No!” Sarah cried until she tightened her eyes against the visuals, but these images were inside her mind.

  The vision faded, and the oracle spoke. “You have been chosen. Fulfill your destiny. Seek truth and listen…”

  Finished, the oracle fell dim, leaving Sarah to fall to the floor, weeping until the coldness burrowed beneath her cloak, forcing her ears to throb and her hands to ache. With her heart heavy, she yanked on her gloves, her hands aching. A dark, chilly night awaited and a long ride home. She got to her feet and made her way back to her danker beast. She climbed on. The snowstorm blotted out the Veloris sun.

  She made her way back to the castle with her heart saddened for she knew that no matter what her sister would be lost, forever. Some part of her—it sounded strangely like the oracle’s watery voice—whispered back, you have already lost her.

  21

  Secreted in the Night

  The Great Hall lay as quiet as the snow that falls from the sky. As soon as Zykeiah turned the corner, she saw Kanton’s broad, tunic-clad back saddling up an older gray danker beast called Mourning. Patches had retired for the evening, and a short, bulky boy who watched over the stables worked as he shouted at Kanton with blinding rage.

  “Curt, can you let it rest, for now?” Kanton was saying, his voice clearly unhappy and tired. “Right this moment is not the time to argue.”

  Curt opened his mouth to do just that but saw Zykeiah appear just around Kanton’s back and shut his mouth tight.

  “Minister Zykeiah,” he said, his own dark skin seemingly growing darker from embarrassment. “What brings you to the stables this late in the evening?”

  Kanton twisted around, his face growing steadily redder, for he too had not known she was there. “Minister, I, uh, was, uh…”

  “Greetings,” Zykeiah said with a laugh. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. No doubt you are going out, as am I.”

  She gave his tunic the once over and said, “That tunic will not shield you from the night’s frost. You, Curt, did he say your name was? Get Kanton a cloak.”

  Curt frowned as he turned away and left the stables, heading for the stock room.

  In his absence, Zykeiah said to Kanton, “We will soon increase the Minister Knights of Souls’ numbers. You seem most worthy.”

  Kanton lowered his head. “Of this I fear you are in error, minister.”

  Something shifted behind Kanton’s eyes and Zykeiah pressed him. “You think so?”

  “Yes, sir. For my ignorance, Manola gained entry to the castle and killed guards,” Kanton said, softly as if that knowledge alone could condemn him.

&
nbsp; “Great men are judged by those they keep in their company, by those they call friend, and how they respond to conflict,” Zykeiah said with a broad smile that hid her doubts. Curt was the one who had an attitude problem. “Oh, yes, here is a much heavier cloak for the night.”

  Curt tossed the cloak to Kanton and headed to the rear of the stables where he pretended they were gone. Rude behavior for a servant, but Zykeiah allowed it to pass. Much was happening in the days behind and those to come. She even thought that she might feel the same as Curt had her friend been admitted to something she had not. Kanton had spent days in the castle, and no doubt Curt had to take on those duties while Kanton healed.

  Zykeiah’s eyes lingered on Curt, their eeriness glowing in the shadowy dark that spilled inside the stables. She could tell from his structure and his skin that he was of Saturn Four. She pondered how long he had been on Veloris, for when she arrived several years ago, there had been no one else from her native home. She hated Saturn Four, for it had been a cruel place, filled with slaves and tyrants called kings. Valek’s soul cages had taken her, used her, but she had escaped—like Amana.

  It that why Curt’s family came to be considered among Veloris’s servant population? At that moment, Zykeiah felt an enormous tug of kinship with Curt. She would do what she could to see him become a knight. His attitude would need work, but whose didn’t?

  “What brings you down to the stables?” Kanton asked as he gently patted his danker beast. “Cloaked and armed.” He gestured toward her thigh dagger set lined with its seven sharp blades.

  She smiled, feeling her cheeks grow warm from Kanton’s attention, but not quite sure why. “Same as you.”

  She jutted a thumb toward Curt and placed a finger to her lips. Loose tongues could get them in trouble or cost them, so she winked at Kanton. He nodded that he understood, offered a fast “sorry,” and went to seek out Zykeiah’s black-haired beast. The danker’s coat was so dark it seemed to meld into the glum day. Saddled and bridled, the danker beasts rode out into the cold, leaving a curious, but quiet, Curt behind in the warmth of the stables’ hay and straw.

  Zykeiah took the lead with Kanton following close behind. Their breath escaped into cool, colorless wisps into the air. The icy wind blew across her face, feeling as if small strips of flesh were being removed with each gust. Not that she minded the bitter wind—she didn’t. Kanton’s presence made her feel uneasy. He was but a boy—a handsome one, but still not a minister knight. What if she encountered Manola, Amana, or a crazed servant? Would Kanton be prepared to fight and slay those who threatened them and the castle?

  Her senses were heightened, in part thanks to Marion’s ominous warning about those who lay across the river. Hiding behind dense brush, they dismounted, leaving the dankers to nuzzle into the soggy snow for free sprouts of greens. Zykeiah’s and Kanton’s cloaks blended into the pitch blackness, and except for the occasional blasts of snowflakes, they remained hidden. Zykeiah pulled her hood over her head, and her already dark skin disappeared into the hood’s shadows. Only her eyes remained and they, being manufactured from another world, glowed like candles in a fog.

  She glanced back at Kanton and whispered, “Be silent. Watch. Listen.”

  Kanton’s eyes were attached to her face, staring with some alarm, at her eyes. The question seemed to titter on his tongue, to be allowed to ask, but she headed him off.

  “They are not of this world,” she whispered hastily. “I will explain later.”

  Again, Kanton gave her a half nod and squatted behind the brush, watching, listening as instructed.

  They waited.

  The evening creatures came alive around them, cricking and singing, hooting and crying. Kanton was a natural for such work because the wind, the weather, seemed to be nothing to him. Zykeiah could see his smile in the watery streams of moonlight, and even feel his energy pulsating against the dreary cold. Oh, yes, Kanton was a natural. They would need to recruit him to their ranks, officially.

  The young stable hand didn’t, at the moment, occupy much of her troubled and worried mind. Her dreams did. For the last couple of weeks, her nights had been horribly interrupted with nightmares of Manola. Just thinking the name sent shudders across Zykeiah’s back and fueled her anger to become enflamed.

  She had burned all Valek’s castle interior, but the structure itself, being made of rock, could not be burned. Manola had escaped, and it was this fact that sat on Zykeiah’s shoulders.

  “I-I wanted to ask your thoughts on the people who ask for leave.” Kanton’s voice, low and shaky, carved through the dark.

  “It is the queen’s place to decide such actions. I have no opinion. I’m a minister knight, so I serve Veloris and the royal family.”

  She pushed her hands deeper into the cloak’s pockets and stamped her feet into the snow to get her blood flowing.

  “Do many rebel against the throne?” Kanton asked.

  Zykeiah thought about that before saying, “Yes. But those quarrels are from the king’s sons and daughters, not from the outsiders so much. The lords argue and quarrel over taxes, land, and such.”

  “Land,” Kanton said, disturbing the quiet. “I still have friends who are servants, and the mood amongst them is that they are weary of being yoked. Those who have money would like to be lords and have land of their own.”

  “I understand that need, but they won’t find it under Manola’s and Amana’s heels.”

  “Thank you.” Kanton seemed so at home with her; she found it strange and nice at the same time.

  Clearing her throat, she refocused on more pressing items. She knew deep down that it was Manola who sent the dreams to her, and Zykeiah would have to seek out Octiva for help with eliminating them or using them to locate the wretched witch and her minion.

  Moments ticked by, but they felt more like hours. The icy chill penetrated Zykeiah’s cloak and dipped down into her bones. She shuddered, but instantly fought against the action. Instead, she focused her mind on the bridge, and on the sure treachery that existed in the Land of Lundlei.

  The sound of footsteps and the rustle movement forced Zykeiah and Kanton farther back into the shrubbery and trees. She spied the makeshift path that led over the bridge and the thin trail of people coming across. Hidden by the shadows and the slanting snow, she peered at the handful of servants. The river’s roaring waters drowned out any chance of her overhearing comments or conversations, but this clearly was several family groups. Husbands, wives, and children in various ages, dressed to fend off the freezing weather.

  “By the goddess…” Kanton whispered.

  Zykeiah shushed him. The exodus had begun. The kids held the hands of the older children and walked cautiously to the icy bridge. The caravan had a few dankers, but most of the people carried their items on their backs and under their arms.

  What hopes and dreams do you think lie across the bridge? she thought darkly, and her anger at the parents’ disregard for their young ones’ safety bristled.

  The Capolla Bridge had been built when Marion’s grandfather was still a young prince. Zykeiah doubted the bridge was all that stable, and from here, she could see that the railing had been ravaged by the harsh winters and icy weather.

  These people want away from Queen Zoë so desperately that they are willing to risk the bridge and not only their lives, but their children’s lives as well. Zykeiah adjusted her weight, her hands itching to wrap around her daggers and strike.

  But why would the parents take such a risk?

  Across the bridge, a bright green flame burst upward, lighting up the area. The people shrieked, paused on Zykeiah’s side of the bridge. Someone called out, and although she couldn’t see clearly the person, once she heard her speak, she knew at once.

  Amana.

  “Come. Don’t be scared. These naked flames will point you to the place where you can be free,” Amana promised.

  Hot whispers zipped around the group, and after several moments, the first person stepped
onto the bridge. He looked back and waved the others onward. As if one collected hive, they started for the bridge, too. Toward Amana, she with the green light. The welcoming, naked, and calm illumination they all sought.

  Only Zykeiah knew that light beckoned death.

  She guessed she had witnessed the illegal fleeing of some seventy-five people. There may be countless others they hadn’t witnessed depart for Lundlei. But for a kingdom the size of this, this was too many.

  Waiting until the families had crossed safely, Zykeiah intended to follow them. Kanton crept out behind her.

  Within moments, the forest and the bridge lay in darkness.

  Zykeiah scurried back to her danker beast, climbed on, and crept up to the river’s edge, where the bridge connected to their side of the Capolla. Drawing one of her daggers, she got off the danker and she too crossed the bridge, where, at once, it began to snow again. But she did not step onto the Land of Lundlei. Something held her back, some internal voice warning against her stepping onto the ground and crossing into Marvelina’s hold. Instead, she crouched down and peered onto the snow-covered ground that was quickly being covered by yet another layer.

  “Minister?” Kanton asked.

  Zykeiah held up her hand to silence him. The tracks of the families had begun just at the end of the bridge and continued for a couple of feet, where they immediately vanished. A patch of trees partially obscured her view, and coupled with the now falling snow, she strained to see beyond the thicket. Above the treetops was spiraling smoke from chimneys.

  Her heart sped up toward her throat, forcing her to turn back over the bridge, not glancing behind her or to the left or right. Her boots slid, and she nearly slipped off across the slick bridge into the partially frozen river water. Once she made it safely across, she leapt onto her danker beast, and with all her might, whipped her beast until it ran at a breakneck pace back to the castle.

  “Kanton! Come!” she shouted, her heart hammering in her throat.