Murmurs traveled across the room. Some of the empire’s most influential Aeternae had come to see what would become of Zoltan Shatal, a man they’d known as chief councilor until recently. He sat in a steel cage in the middle of the expansive courtroom, appearing tiny under the high ceiling. Word had already gotten out about Petra and her sons, as well. The knowledge that such illustrious Aeternae had joined the Darklings seemed to have skewed public opinion, at least among those present. I wasn’t ready to call them all Darkling sympathizers, but I didn’t dismiss the idea. These people were easily swayed, and I could only hope that Zoltan’s trial would show them the unpleasant truth of how evil the Darklings really were.
I was also concerned about Esme and Kalon’s disappearance, but I was inclined to take Valaine’s advice into consideration. Esme was not one to go rogue or isolate herself from our group for too long. If they’d fled the Visentis mansion and gone to safety, then they probably wanted to stay hidden. Sooner or later, she’d reach out, though I was certain Tristan would go after her before then. His heels were burning. His sister’s wellbeing tended to trump his critical thinking, but I couldn’t blame him. I would’ve been just as restless, had Vivienne or Lucas been in any kind of trouble.
Gold guards stood at every entrance. By the north wall, a massive podium had been erected, with the judges’ table and high-backed chairs. The audience boxes lined the east and west walls, and every seat was occupied. Sofia, Tristan, and I had been given spots closer to the judges’ table. Valaine and Corbin had joined us, along with other eminent figures from the empire’s upper echelon. The atmosphere was tense, as many didn’t seem to agree with how Zoltan had been treated.
I’d heard several nobles clamoring about the lack of justice as they complained about how unfairly he’d been treated. Naturally, I scoffed at those remarks, knowing more about his heinous crimes than they did.
“The Lord and Lady Supreme will be presiding over this trial,” Corbin said glumly. He didn’t seem to like this much. “A jury would’ve been more appropriate.”
“The Lord Supreme did say he’d make sure Zoltan got the punishment he deserves,” I replied. “Frankly, I agree with a jury and a judge handling this entire thing, but I also understand where the Lord Supreme is coming from. The damage that Zoltan inflicted on your society will last for centuries, I’m afraid.”
“Order!” one of the gold guards shouted, and the entire courtroom fell silent. “All rise for the Lord and Lady Supreme!”
Acheron and Danika entered through a side door, accompanied by Thayen and one of his Nalorean nannies. The boy was given a seat near the podium, joined by his nanny—though he was basically self-sufficient, a regal child could not be left alone, for his own protection as heir to the throne. Acheron and Danika took their seats at the judges’ table. They both wore black—a modest and serious color that symbolized the gravity of what was about to take place.
“Danika looks positively pissed off,” Sofia whispered in my ear.
“I don’t exactly blame her,” I replied. “Zoltan has created quite a mess. And most of the nobles don’t agree with such harsh punishments for the Darklings.”
“Yeah, I heard some of them, too,” she muttered, shaking her head. “If they knew half the stuff we know, they wouldn’t be so lenient.”
“Let’s not forget that Acheron banned the blood slave trade because of the Darklings. That’s where their discontent truly stems from,” I said. “It’s what Danika feared would happen. Fortunately, they’re not rioting or anything, so I assume they’ll begrudgingly accept the outcome of today’s trial.”
As soon as Acheron and Danika were settled behind the judges’ table, we all took our seats. Acheron spoke first.
“Given the extraordinary circumstances and the unprecedented charges against the chief councilor of Visio, the Lady Supreme and I have decided to preside over today’s trial,” he said, his voice booming across the courtroom. “Acting in Visio’s best interest is our main responsibility as monarchs, and we want to make sure a just and fair sentence is passed, in keeping with Lord Shatal’s betrayal.”
Zoltan rolled his eyes, legs crossed as he leaned back against the steel bars of his cage. He looked positively bored, and I wondered what he was hoping to achieve with that attitude.
“Unfortunately, after numerous attempts to persuade Lord Shatal to speak and perhaps even save himself, we have come to the unpleasant conclusion that he is unrepentant,” Acheron continued.
I frowned, glancing at Tristan and Valaine. “What is he talking about?”
“After we got back from the Visentis mansion, we spent a couple of hours in the early morning trying to get Zoltan to talk,” Valaine replied, her father nodding in agreement next to her. “I did everything I could, short of giving him a proper brain hemorrhage, but he refused to talk.”
“Really?” Sofia seemed surprised. “I thought your powers were quite… persuasive.”
“Oh, they are,” Tristan said. “But Zoltan would rather die than betray the Darklings.”
“Therefore, a sentence shall be passed today,” Acheron continued. He stood up, but Zoltan couldn’t even be bothered to turn around to look at him. I spotted dried blood under his nose—probably left over from last night’s interrogations. “Zoltan Shatal, you stand accused of murder, high treason, and conspiring against the empire you were sworn to protect. How do you plead?”
Zoltan chuckled but didn’t respond.
Acheron waited, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Danika, however, seemed slightly amused by how this event was unfolding. My gaze traveled across the courtroom, finding Thayen sitting uncomfortably in his seat. Judging by the look on his face, he didn’t want to be here. Unfortunately for him, this was part of a monarch’s duty. My only hope was that they wouldn’t make him attend the execution, as well—because that’s where this was headed, especially considering Zoltan’s continued defiance.
“How do you plead, Lord Shatal?” Acheron asked again, raising his voice.
“The only thing I am guilty of is trying to protect the Aeternae from the Black Fever,” Zoltan finally replied. “Our nightmare will be over when Valaine Crimson dies. In another ten thousand years, someone else will have to die to stop another outbreak. It is the curse of our immortality, and it is high time we acknowledged and accepted it!”
Dozens of Aeternae gasped in the audience. I wondered how much of what Zoltan said was true, and how much was part of the Darklings’ mythology, in which I had little to no faith. I knew that Amal and Amane had found an apparent connection between Valaine and the Black Fever, but it wasn’t anything conclusive enough to support Zoltan’s claims.
“That is slander!” Corbin shouted, pointing an angry finger at him.
“Order!” a gold guard replied.
“You have no proof of what you claim, Zoltan Shatal. We have asked you for proof, and you refused to produce it. All you have are venomous lies aimed at Lady Crimson,” Acheron said. “This empire has had enough of your fabrications. Now, stand, for I shall pass your sentence!”
The crowd rumbled angrily, but no one objected. Movement caught my eye, but there were too many people for me to focus properly. Instead, I watched a gold guard as he walked over to Zoltan’s cage. Since the disgraced Darkling refused to get up, the soldier shot a hand between the steel bars and forced him into an upright position. “The Lord Supreme has ordered you to stand!” he growled.
“I do not recognize his authority. I only recognize the authority of the Master of Darkness, the supreme entity and true protector of the Aeternae,” Zoltan said.
“For high treason, for conspiracy against the empire of Visio, for murder, I, Acheron Nasani, Lord Supreme and Protector of the Aeternae Realm, Guardian of Its Principates and Leader of the People, sentence you, Zoltan Shatal, to death,” Acheron replied.
The courtroom was aghast, but the sentence had been passed. It was irrevocable and unbreakable. Acheron stood tall and proud, while Zoltan rolled his eyes a
gain, surprisingly unimpressed. Only then did I notice that he was chewing something.
My blood ran cold.
“Sofia… Sofia, I think he just ate a Black Fever capsule,” I breathed, gripping my wife’s wrist. She followed my gaze and froze, her eyes widening with shock.
“Somebody stop him!” she shouted.
The gold guard, however, stepped back, his expression dark and sullen. Corbin was quick to realize what had just happened. He shot to his feet. “Seize him!” he snarled.
Acheron didn’t move, his eyes wide as Zoltan’s face turned white and black veins spread over his cheeks and temples. In less than a minute, he was dead and his insides had liquefied—an extreme manifestation of the Black Fever and the Darklings’ preferred suicide method.
Those in attendance screamed in horror, but the gold guards were quick to hold them back and secure the exits. Two soldiers seized the guard who’d forced Zoltan to stand up, as he was clearly the one who’d slipped him the capsule.
Corbin reached him in seconds, his face red with anger. “What the hell did you do?!”
“Commander, he’s not part of our platoon,” one of the soldiers said.
The second agreed. “He’s not a gold guard!”
“So, he snuck in? He snagged some gold armor and strutted around like he was one of you?!” Acheron shouted, his rage boiling over, much like Corbin. “This is unacceptable!”
“Well, he’s dead,” Danika replied dryly from her seat. “Consider the affair closed and arrest the fraud, since he’s clearly a Darkling.”
“He chose to die before his punishment!” Acheron spat, scowling at his wife. “He basically flipped us and the empire off as his last hurrah. It’s unconscionable!”
“Take him to prison,” Corbin ordered his soldiers. “I’ll deal with him later.”
Valaine was stunned, not that I could blame her. “What just happened?” she murmured.
“Zoltan killed himself before they could kill him,” Tristan replied, equally baffled.
I wanted to react, somehow, but there wasn’t much I could do other than stare. But then Thayen’s nanny stood up just as Acheron moved around the judges’ table and descended the platform. Something felt wrong.
“Acheron, watch out!” I heard myself shout.
The Nalorean nanny produced a scythe from between the folds of her dress and cut Acheron’s head off. Danika’s scream pierced my ears. It broke my heart in an instant—I was suddenly lost and out of breath, with no control over what had just happened.
Acheron’s head hit the floor. The courtroom exploded in wails and gasps and terrified screams. Gold guards rushed to their Lord Supreme, but it was too late.
“Oh, no…” Sofia cried out, tears welling in her eyes.
Valaine lost control. She bolted from her seat, dashing like a shadow across the marble floor. She stopped in front of the Nalorean nanny, roaring as she ripped her head off. Blood sprayed outward as the gold guards tried to pull her back. Another soldier rushed to cover Thayen’s eyes in an attempt to shield the boy from years of soul-crushing therapy. He’d already seen too much.
The woman’s body collapsed, her head still in Valaine’s bloodied hands.
Thayen was speechless and blank, unable to process or react, partially hidden behind the soldier, shrinking in his embrace. Danika nearly tumbled down the stairs, sliding on her knees to reach her husband’s body. Tears streamed down her cheeks, horror forever marring her beautiful features. With trembling hands, she touched Acheron’s chest as if hoping she might find a sign of life.
There was no point. Acheron was dead, and so was his killer.
The Darklings’ reach was wider and more dangerous than we’d thought. They’d been close to the Lord and Lady Supreme for so long, ready to act if they got too involved or presented a threat to the Darkling agenda.
Valaine stood over the nanny’s lifeless body, the severed head dangling from one hand. The gold guards were breathless and wide-eyed, not sure what to do next. Corbin remained frozen on the spot, standing between Zoltan’s cage and Acheron’s head.
And all around us, grief swelled and flared outward.
It was unstoppable.
Nethissis
We were in Laramis, and it didn’t look like a Darkling hideout at all. It was an idyllic town in the midlands, flanked by lush woods to the north and grain fields to the south. The houses were pretty, with white walls and brick-tile roofs. Flowers adorned every window and wrought-iron streetlamps cast light on every road. It was peaceful and quiet, with splendid views and nice people.
And yet it was home to an alarming number of Darklings. They blended in, wearing the same clothes and smiles as everyone else. I stayed close to Petra and her group, much to Seeley’s chagrin. Sidyan held him back, while Lumi motioned for me to return to them every chance she got. But they kept their distance, nonetheless. They couldn’t risk it.
At least I had my weird ability to conceal myself from the enemy. And I planned to use it as much as I could now that we were close to finding the Darklings’ top dog.
Petra, her brother, and her sons walked through the town, and no one seemed to bat an eye. I wasn’t sure what was going on, so I continued following her. Some of the people she passed gave her discreet nods. I figured they were Darklings in disguise. The others seemed oblivious, or at least they chose to look away, probably aware of who she was and determined to stay out of her business.
We reached a two-story house on the northern edge of town. The lights were on inside. A few Darklings exited through the front door, offering Petra polite nods. She sighed and smiled at her sons. “Finally, some civilization,” she quipped, her tone light despite her painful limp.
“I’ve never been here before,” Aganon muttered. “It’s a little weird.”
“That’s because this town is secretly under Darkling occupation,” Simmon explained. “I’ve visited a couple times. The locals had no choice but to accept the Darklings, and they pretend everything is fine for fear of retribution. You don’t want to know about the mass graves in the woods.”
“Well, now I know about them, thanks so much,” Aganon replied dryly.
“Laramis is ours. Hopefully, we will bring more towns under our control soon,” Petra said. “We might have to do our work in the shadows, since our people wouldn’t understand what we’re doing, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t have a little haven here and there. I know I could use a break.”
“You’re awfully chipper, considering two of our brothers are out of reach,” Tudyk grumbled.
Petra ignored his remark, and as they entered the house. I followed them inside.
“Nethi, don’t!” Lumi hissed somewhere behind me. I didn’t listen, drawn too deep into the Visentis siblings’ conversation with their mother.
The reception lobby was well lit, with doors on each wall that led to different rooms. The walls were covered in flowery silk paper, and the furniture looked old but well kept, its surfaces shining under the ceiling lamps.
There was no one else here. Atlas took a seat in the corner, licking his growing hand. It looked like a leathery extension with bony fingers protruding unevenly. He wasn’t happy, his black eyes constantly surveying the room. I hid behind a cabinet before his gaze could find me. This was a clear and relatively open space, and there were no more distractions to keep his focus off me.
I had to stay hidden if I wanted to get any more intel out of these people.
“Simmon, after you rest for a bit, you should send word for the Darklings in Veliko’s command to meet us in the town square tomorrow,” Petra said. “We have a lot to discuss.”
Veliko slumped in a chair, blood still trickling from his closed mouth. He was in a lot of pain, enough to maybe even make me feel a little sorry for him—until I remembered everything he’d done. My sympathy was short-lived where Veliko was concerned. Glancing at the closed door leading outside, I knew Seeley was probably going out of his mind knowing I was in here. Lumi was
likely angry with me. Rudolph, too. For a moment, I regretted coming in, but it was too late to turn back.
I had to get as much information as possible before slipping through the wall behind me. The cabinet kept me safe, as Atlas was too busy tending to his wound to carefully sniff the air and maybe catch my scent. I doubted he’d noticed me with that distraction.
“Oh, you’re wondering what I’m going to tell your people?” Petra asked Veliko, knowing full well that he couldn’t answer.
Simmon and Aganon settled at a table, joined by Moore and Tudyk as they watched Petra exact her revenge on the fallen Darkling. They seemed amused, almost eager to see what she’d do to him.
“I’m going to tell them you were useless. An incompetent fool who dreamed of things far greater than he could actually accomplish,” Petra continued. “An imbecile who thought he could outsmart and overpower me. I guarantee they will laugh at that last part.” She paused, noticing his baffled expression. “Yes, I’m referring to you in the past tense, Veliko. Because in exactly three seconds, you’ll be history.”
Veliko moaned and tried to speak, but Petra took out her scythe and beheaded him in one swift motion. His body slumped on the floor, blood spreading across the fine wood. She rolled her eyes as she wiped the blade on a tablecloth.
“Tudyk, be a darling Darkling and dispose of his body. Moore, fetch a bucket and a mop. We are guests here. We must be polite,” she said, creeping me out even more than I already was.
Atlas didn’t move, staring at his stumpy hand. He looked as though he was analyzing the slow growth. Ice trickled down my spine as I shifted my focus back to Petra. She seemed to be in a much better mood now, despite the colossal loss she’d suffered back at the mansion.
“So, tomorrow we summon Zoltan’s Darklings,” Aganon said. “I doubt we’ll have any trouble reining them in. What next?”
“We’ll dispatch two teams. One will handle getting Ansel back,” Petra replied. “The other, which you and Simmon will personally oversee, will go after Kalon. I want my boys here by the next full moon. Oh, and when you find Kalon, cut off Esme’s head. She pissed me off.”
A Shade of Vampire 81: A Bringer of Night Page 23