by K T Munson
Elisabeth had a feeling about where he was taking her. Spirit animals had a strong sense about the people around them, attuned to their emotions. She suspected that Ashley missed him, too, and, like the big cat, Elisabeth had done her best to keep it to herself. She drove herself forward and kept herself busy but she would never stop trying to find Ki.
She owed him that much.
When the tiger sped up and hurried into a room, she paused. Elisabeth steeled her emotions and forced herself to take measured steps. When she turned the corner, she found Ashley curled up on the bed. His great head was on his paw, and he looked utterly forlorn.
Like a punch to her gut, Ki’s entire being washed over her. She nearly doubled over from the shock. Every inch of the room bore his scent and his memories. She could perceive his life force even though he hadn’t been there in months. She could feel how long he’d lived here—far more time than the twenty or so years he looked. If she was right, he aged at about half the rate as just about everyone else. About fifty years of Ki filled up every nook and cranny of this room. She resisted the urge to rub her chest at his name. Her heart ached whenever she thought of him and what he had done. Everyone thought he was a hero because he’d sacrificed himself for them, but she knew the truth. She had seen the look on his face the moment before he pulled the Black King through the gate—he had done it for her.
The moment that had passed between them was the reason she wouldn’t rest. Ki must have thought she would be the one to defeat the Black King. He must have considered the possibility that she would die in order to stop him. He’d thought she would be the one to go through the gate onto Croatoan and had decided he wasn’t going to let her do it.
Elisabeth closed her eyes a moment, thought of the look on his face, and braced herself against the tears. She had cried enough after that day in the clearing on Hystera. She had avoided the planet as much as she could. Everything about it brought back bad memories.
She opened her eyes and stepped into the room. It was simple and as dark as the rest of this place. She lifted the lantern, taking in the sparse furniture. One wall was covered with an array of weapons. As she set the lantern on the dresser, she couldn’t help but to smile at the fact that his room contained more weapons than furniture. Moving toward Ashley, Elisabeth searched the room for something of his.
Her fingers went across the bed. The sheets were in disarray, and she knew they had been that way even before the tiger had taken up residence here. She could tell that Ki had left in a hurry and had never returned. She patted Ashley’s head and scratched behind his ears a little before turning back to the rest of the room.
There was a dresser with a drawer open and some clothes on the ground. When she knelt down and held up the clothing, she could smell a twinge of month-old blood. He had come back here after he had been injured and had left in a hurry before he could clean up after himself. His rush had turned into her good fortune.
She resisted the urge to hold the clothing to her chest. Instead, she set her pack on the ground and shoved it in. As she rolled the top of the waterproof pack and fixed the straps, her eyes landed on a perfectly folded cloth next to the lantern.
Elisabeth cocked her head to the right and gently picked it up. It was worn with age, but it was the most cared for item in the room. Holding up the edge of the cloth, Elisabeth let it unfold. She quickly realized it was a woman’s shawl. Instinct told her it had belonged to his mother. She didn’t know how he had come across it—she doubted the Black Council would have kept it—yet there it was.
With reverence, she slowly refolded the cloth and set it back on the dresser, but her hand remained on it. Her fingers hesitated to part with something that Ki had held so dear. Her eyes filled with tears. She missed him, and she could tell that his mother’s shawl was the only thing he truly cherished—besides his perfectly polished weapons, of course.
She hastily put the shawl in her bag before rolling it back up and pulling it onto her back. If she found him again, she wouldn’t want him to come back here to the home of so many people who had betrayed him. She’d seen too much betrayal lately—from Hipasha to Milo. Just thinking Milo’s name made the pain worse.
“Let’s go,” Elisabeth said.
Ashley yawned and hopped off the bed. He was in mid-stretch when his ears twitched. Suddenly his head came up, and he growled. For a moment, she was startled. She’d never heard a tiger or cat growl quite like that.
Hearing the sounds of a struggle in the distance, she took off down the hallway. Ashley followed behind her, though he seemed hesitant. He didn’t technically belong to Ki; he was a gift to the Black Council, who were the closest thing he had to a partner. Spirit animals lived as long as their partners, but Ashley wasn’t bound to one partner. He was bound to all of the council.
She burst into the great room and found Malthael pushed down to his knees. There was blood on his forehead; it was as black as his skin. Elisabeth glared at the man who held him down. She recognized him from the white patches at his temples: Ra. He glared back with equal hatred.
The glint of blade caught her eye, and she felt a moment of trepidation. Fear and intense calm. “Let him up,” Elisabeth demanded as she warned him with her eyes of the consequences if they didn’t.
“You are in our domain,” he whispered disdainfully. “You do not command us.”
His face was maimed with wounds still healing from a few months earlier. It brought her satisfaction to see the Netherhounds’ tails had done their damage. She would have to find a bone for Nathan and Duke upon her return. The Black Council’s marred faces deserved some compensation. She nearly smiled at the thought, but just then Ra lifted the blade toward Malthael.
“I cannot kill you,” she admitted. She took a step forward and added, “but there are fates worse than death that could be visited upon you.”
Ra paused, her warning apparently having instilled in him the appropriate level of fear. She could see his eyes fluttering as he tried to consider which was worse, his backing down or her following through on her threat. She gave him a smile that assured him that the second would be worse. He could not hide the cold sweat that slid down his forehead.
“How do I know you won’t kill us?” Ra asked, and many turned their heads to him. Elisabeth sensed it was not wise to show weakness in this group.
“You fool!” one called out. His face was skinny and his nose sharp. Elisabeth disliked him instantly—a feeling that grew exponentially stronger when he lunged forward.
Without thinking, she opened her mouth and began to pull the life force from everyone in the room except Malthael. Glowing blue life force streamed into the air, sating Elisabeth’s hunger. Her demon half had more of an appetite now that she was using it. When she closed her mouth, the men collapsed. She met Malthael’s even gaze. He watched her without blinking, showing neither fear nor disgust. He was the one person who had never rejected any part of her. No longer subdued, Malthael stood.
She reached up and took the gag out of his mouth. “You should be more careful,” she said as she untied the rope.
“Elsa,” Malthael whispered her nickname, but she averted her gaze.
She didn’t know what was worse, being afraid of herself and splitting herself into two people or accepting who she was and using both parts of herself. Elisabeth wasn’t sure either was noble. But this was who she was: a half breed. She was the most powerful person on all the planets. She was Elisabeth and Elsariel.
“Don’t worry.” Elisabeth put a hand on his chest to reassure him. “They aren’t dead.”
They blinked up at her, too drained to move. She tilted her head to one side before crouching next to Ra. His eyes were wide with fear; he had lost.
“You are exposed,” she said. “You no longer work from the shadows where no one sees you. You are not the faceless men in the dark. You may live for a very long time, but you will not scheme or plot or be diabolical without me breathing down your neck. Forget your lives before now
. Forget your past. Leave this cold, empty place now, or I shall return to make sure you never leave.”
Chapter 10: Ashlad
Malthael’s gaze bored holes into Zod, King Nauberon’s ambassador, who appeared quite anxious. King Nauberon’s short, fat messenger, dressed in yellow and red, seemed oddly calm in contrast as he unrolled the parchment. Ruby-colored suspenders held up his pants, and his fine vest didn’t properly conceal his girth. His strange hat was supposed to mark him as the king’s chosen messenger, but it reminded Malthael more of a pinwheel. The messenger didn’t seem all that concerned with Malthael’s glare. That was a problem Malthael intended to rectify.
Zod’s bizarrely long fingers drummed over themselves in obvious unease. Malthael was surprised Zod hadn’t yet fled.
“King Nauberon extends an invitation to the Lady Elsariel,” Zod said. “He humbly requests her presence for an evening of entertainment and exotic dishes from the planets.” The messenger paused and glanced up at him. Malthael narrowed his eyes, but the little man hardly blinked before continuing. “If the Lady Elsariel accepts this request, King Nauberon will provide her access to his private library collection. It is signed by his grace, King Nauberon.”
Zod fidgeted at the glower on Malthael’s face. “This is your household,” he said anxiously, “and I had to relay the message through you, but I cannot leave until the message has been given to Lady Elsariel.”
“No,” Malthael replied flatly.
Zod blinked. “No?”
“No,” Malthael reiterated. He set his face in the most menacing expression he could muster. “King Nauberon can shove his invitation up his—”
“I would be delighted to accept,” Elisabeth’s voice cut in, and Malthael nearly fell over.
He spun around to find her half through the door, her dark blue skirts filling the open doorway. She had a smile on her face that seemed lazy and carefree, but Malthael knew his daughter. She didn’t do lazy and carefree. She was planning something, and Malthael didn’t like it one bit.
“Excellent news!” Looking relieved, Zod thoroughly avoided eye contact with Malthael.
“His eminence was hoping you would accept and has sent a gift,” the messenger said before turning around and picking up a small bag. He extracted from the small bag a box larger in size. It was not the first time he had seen a messenger bag and its magical properties. Hating that King Nauberon was giving her gifts, Malthael gave the visitors his most menacing glare.
“I didn’t accept.” Elisabeth clarified, and everyone went still.
“You said that you’d be delighted to accept,” Zod argued. Malthael glanced at her. Her face was set. She was the only person who might be a match for King Nauberon and his tricks.
“I said I would be delighted to accept, but I have a condition that must be met first,” she said.
“A condition?” Zod squeaked.
“King Nauberon is lucky I only have one condition,” Elisabeth said. The look on her face said that she could impose more but was feeling generous. “Tell King Nauberon I shall accept his invitation on the condition that Prince Ethandirill is given the ability to speak while Nanette is in his care.”
The messenger round face went slack jawed, showing an emotion for the first time since arriving at their house. Zod appeared startled as well, apprehensively glancing between them. Malthael crossed his arms to let everyone know he was against the entire notion.
“The king will take offense to that request,” the messenger informed her without any inflection as he returned the box to the bag on his hip.
“It is my condition,” Elisabeth replied nonchalantly. “King Nauberon may choose to accept or decline, but do express that if he declines so shall I.”
Zod frowned. The messenger looked perturbed, but he clicked his heels together and bowed. “I shall deliver your message with haste.”
His perfectly round self quickly turned and left. Zod looked back and forth between them. Malthael gave him a smile that could melt skin, and the ambassador quickly followed the messenger. Normally he would have been more civil, but he didn’t like what was happening. Once A.J. had escorted them out and the great doors had closed behind them, Malthael turned to his daughter.
“What in the world were you thinking?” Malthael demanded as Elisabeth walked around the table toward him.
“I was thinking about what I could find in that library,” Elisabeth said, staring straight ahead. Her eyes flicked over to him. “And I was thinking of Nanette.”
“This is very risky,” Malthael said. He couldn’t fault her intentions, but that didn’t mean he had to like them. But he also knew he couldn’t go against them. Elisabeth would do what she thought was best; she had become more determined and confident since that day in the clearing on Hystera.
“I know exactly what King Nauberon is.” Elisabeth leaned against the table next to him.
“You don’t know what he has planned,” Malthael said, trying to determine exactly how to tell her.
“Yes I do,” Elisabeth replied as she set the letter on the table. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
“Snooping through my desk?” Malthael asked.
“It has my name on it,” she reminded him, turning it over.
If he had been capable of pallor, he would have blanched. Apparently he had done too good of a job raising his daughter. She had become a lot wiser since they had faced the Black King. He realized in that moment he shouldn’t have hidden it from her. She was his best ally, and he was hers. He needed to protect her in other ways—by trusting her, for starters.
She must have seen all of the emotions on his face, because she smiled, as she pat his arm lovingly. “I know you did it because you care.”
“I also did it because Nauberon is a snake,” Malthael countered, wondering how best to broach the other subjects.
Elisabeth laughed and nodded. “And because he is untrustworthy.”
Malthael had to address the elephant in the room. “What are you going to do?”
“King Nauberon likely wants something from me and is doing so under the guise of a courtship.” Elisabeth’s eyes sparkled as she spoke. “But I want something as well.”
“The Nowhere Gate?” Malthael asked, giving her a sideways glance.
“The Nowhere Gate,” she confirmed. “You know it is feared, but you don’t know where it is or where it goes.”
Malthael gave her a chiding look. “The name is an indication.”
“I don’t believe that the kings would have a gate they couldn’t return from,” Elisabeth replied. “A way to navigate a gate to nowhere.”
He hadn’t thought of that. “You’re too smart for your own good,” he said with no small amount of pride.
Elisabeth leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder. She sighed loudly. He knew she didn’t show vulnerability to anyone else. He put an arm around her shoulders as she rested against him. He knew this was her first moment of relaxation in a long time.
They stayed in comfortable silence. He let her rest and feel the solace of a loving shoulder. He would always want to protect her and was thankful for her patience with him. He was a demon, after all, and handled these mortal emotions like a child taking his first steps. Most demons weren’t nearly this complicated or confusing. Now if he could only manage to tell her everything he had kept hidden.
Chapter 11: Hystera
Hipasha clung to the thin piece of cloth they called a blanket. She stretched it taut around her shoulders as her lips curled up in a sneer. These fools didn’t know who or what they were messing with. There was a bigger game afoot, and they needed to broaden their gaze before they were squashed like the unimportant insects they were.
The idea warmed her despite the cold dank cell. She knew perfectly well that there were clean and well-kept prison cells just a few doors down. The one she was in was reserved for those who deserved to suffer. She knew Troy was behind this—the sniveling brat. She sniffed and pursed her li
ps. Troy would get his comeuppance for the disrespect he’d shown her, and she’d ensure he meddled no longer. He would need to be dealt with for everything to go according to plan.
Shuffling sounds came from outside the cell, and then the door swung open. From the length of the shadow, Hipasha immediately knew it was Troy. Her eyes narrowed as he entered. He met her glare with a blank face.
“Where is Bibrus?” Hipasha demanded. She had not heard or seen her owl since they had trapped her here in the dark. Yet she could feel he wasn’t far away. Until now, moonlight alone had painted a single wall, but now the lantern in Troy’s hand was enough to illuminate some of the room.
“We’re willing to spare your life. Provided you give us useful information,” Troy said pointedly, ignoring her question.
“I’ll give you nothing,” Hipasha told him through grinding teeth.
“You should reconsider that,” Troy said, and she finally looked at him.
He wore white robes—purging robes. They weren’t worn to a banishment; they were worn to an execution. “Why are you dressed like that?” she asked carefully.
“You’re not going into the Netherworld, Hipasha,” the child informed her.
“You are going to leave me for dead there,” Hipasha reminded him. “Don’t you remember?”
“The problem with that is that even though the Black King is gone, creatures are still getting through,” the boy said. “Which means someone in the Netherworld is doing this.”
Hipasha kept her face carefully neutral. “There are many servants to the Black King who will work to find him and free him.” She pulled the cloth around her so it shielded her from him and his words.
“Precisely,” Troy replied, almost excitedly, “which means we are going to execute you instead.”
She sucked in a breath, nearly choking on the air as the boy stood there studying her face. She had forgotten how harsh he could be. It had been some time since there had been any need for punishment—not since the man who had raped multiple women had been castrated. Troy had seen to it that he never touched another woman and had sent him to work in the mines, where the men were tough and the women were as mean as ill-tempered vipers.