Protector of the Flame

by Isis Rushdan

  Ten warriors from the semi-circle shifted into battle mode—skin turning midnight blue, wings the same deep shade emerging—and followed Soren outside.

  Neith circled Serenity, scrutinizing from head to toe as one would a piece of livestock being considered for purchase.

  Doors to the right burst open.

  A young girl pushed through the crowd up to one of the warriors. “Move, Argyle!” the girl demanded. The warrior looked down at her in irritation but let her through. Wild copper blonde curls framed a radiant, prepubescent face.

  A smile swept across the girl’s face. A man with wheat-colored hair was close behind and grabbed her by the shoulders.

  “Stop it,” she scolded as she hit his hand. He didn’t let go and pulled her into his five-ten frame. She came up to his chest. “She’s prettier than her picture. Don’t you think, Cae?”

  The man whispered in the girl’s ear.

  She rolled her eyes. “There’s no danger.”

  “Nakia is right,” said Neith, eyeing Serenity. “You are lovelier in person.”

  Serenity spun as Sothis entered the hall surrounded by warriors.

  Her mother knelt before Neith on both knees. “Thank you for allowing me to enter.”

  “Why have you come, daughter of Aurora?”

  “Lady Neith—”

  “The titles of nobility used by the Great Houses are not recognized here.”

  Head bowed, Sothis said, “Forgive me. This is the only safe place for Serenity. Many seek to snuff out her flame or bewitch her.”

  “I practically delivered your daughter myself, safely, secretly, into the hands of her kabashem. No one from his House or any other knew of the file I gave him or of Serenity’s whereabouts. And Cyrus is not just any Kindred, but one of the most powerful to ever live. Explain to me exactly how she ended up in the hands of her Paladin mother at my doorstep.”

  Palms flat against her thighs, Sothis kept her eyes lowered. “She was on her way to Aten. I intercepted her.”

  “Aten?” Neith raised an eyebrow.

  Serenity stepped forward. “I had to go to House Aten in—”

  “You had to go to Aten,” Neith interjected with a mocking smile and laughed. Her voice resounded off the walls. “So it’s true. Reborn souls retain their essence, ever determined to repeat the same mistakes. You are a magnificent phoenix, but still too eager to burn. Tell me why you had to climb into the mouth of an active volcano.”

  Serenity lowered the collar of her shirt to reveal the necklace. “I’ll do anything to get this cursed thing off. Even climb into a pit of fire.”

  Humor drained from Neith’s face. Staring at the cursed charm, she stepped closer and snatched the amulet from Serenity’s neck.

  Impossible! Serenity staggered back, mouth hanging open. “I thought you were neutral. Only someone from Aten could remove it.”

  “Heka doesn’t work on this island, young phoenix. It’s the reason I chose this location.”

  “That’s what I sensed when we landed.” Sothis raised her head.

  Neith dangled the amulet. “Do you know what this can do?”

  Her child, a lifeless sac gutted from her womb on a hotel floor. “Yes.”

  “How unfortunate for us all.” Neith handed the amulet to Soren. “You are interesting.” Neith held Serenity’s chin, fingers soft as cream. “Impatient and rash like a human. I’m certain you would entertain me, but not enough to grant sanctuary.”

  Sothis clasped both hands in front of her chest, as if in prayer. “Please let my daughter stay, otherwise I’m certain she’ll perish.”

  Neith gave a nonchalant shrug. “How is that my concern?”

  There had to be someplace safe where she’d be accepted. Her mother had gone to extraordinary lengths in the hopes this would be it. Serenity opened her mouth, but Neith silenced her with a piercing look and rigid finger of warning.

  “If you cast my daughter out and she survives, there’ll be war. That concerns all of us.”

  “War is inevitable.”

  Lowering her head to the floor in front of Neith’s feet, Sothis bowed. “I beg you to grant sanctuary.”

  “For both of you?”

  “Yes. I need to make sure she stays safe.”

  “Need,” Neith repeated, a smile kissing her lips. “Sanctuary comes at a price.”

  Serenity’s blood chilled. Everything in the world of Kindred came at a price.

  “My archives are my children,” Neith said. “It saddens me they’re incomplete. You may still have a chance with the Paladins, but if you disclose the information I desire it will make it difficult for you to return to your brethren.”

  “My life would be forfeit as a traitor.” Sothis looked up at the ancient beauty. “But I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. Give her sanctuary and let me stay to watch over her.”

  “Why do you risk so much?” Neith asked.

  Confounded by her mother’s coldness, Serenity wondered the same.

  “It means little to bargain my death for her safety.”

  Profound words from the woman who didn’t want to be called mother. Sothis was an enigma.

  “So shall it be.” Neith led them through the crowd beyond the doors ahead.

  They entered a grand hall with old world floors made of a striking composite of variegated stone. Sunlight poured in through the dome, which had been opened. Wide spaces, floor to ceiling let in fresh air as gossamer curtains bellowed in a breeze. Weapons, artifacts from a bygone era, hung on display across the walls.

  Neith led them up a spiraling walkway, no stairs, through a crowd of onlookers to the third floor, past four rows of laptops set in docking stations and to an office.

  A large desk anchored the room, two chairs sat in front of it. A chaise extended beside an open space overlooking the entire island. Serenity removed her backpack as she strolled across a Persian rug.

  “Be seated.” Neith floated down into a wingback chair—such refined grace and elegance—and turned to one of her warriors. “Bring food and drink.”

  Besides a few wrinkles, Neith didn’t appear older than a healthy sixty-five—a far cry from a decrepit two thousand years old.

  Serenity sat beside Sothis in front of the desk and put her backpack on the floor.

  Treasures of antiquity and artwork from several eras filled the spacious room. Her gaze swept over a luminous short sword mounted on the wall, a lifelike statue of a lion-headed woman seated on a throne and back to the guards hovering in the room.

  A woman carrying a laptop entered, sat in a chair off to the side and looked expectantly at Neith.

  “Let’s start immediately,” Neith said to Sothis. “You left your family to respond to an invitation extended by Aten. What events followed?”

  At last, answers. Serenity shifted toward her mother.

  “May we start with something else?” Sothis cast a sharp look in Serenity’s direction, nothing long or dramatic, but the point was clear.

  “Certainly. Who is the current leader of the Paladins?”

  “My father. Arcturus.”

  The blonde woman typed as they spoke.

  “When did he assume leadership?”

  “Summer of 1679 Isfet.”

  The old way of recording time was still fuzzy. Isfet was the current era, one of darkness and chaos. Numbers tumbled through Serenity’s head. Less than a year after her father was murdered, Arcturus rose to power.

  “How did Arcturus assume control?” Neith lifted an exquisite white peacock feather speckled gold from her desk and twirled it. “A coup orchestrated by the four horsemen?”

  At the expression, Serenity furrowed her brow. She’d never heard of the four horsemen in relation to Kindred.

  “Yes, a bloodless coup,” Sothis said.

  A deep smile of satisfaction rose on Neith’s chiseled face. “I’ve waited half a century to know the ingenium of your father and his brothers. Tell me.”

  “Arcturus can solidify the energy c
onnection of the Sodalitas so we vibrate as one. We haven’t had any natural incidents of blood rage or the dark veil.”

  A way to circumvent the afflictions of the curse.

  “Useful for a leader.” Neith fanned herself with the feather. Even with her frail frame, alabaster paper thin skin, she exuded the kind of authority that ruled nations and started wars. “Continue.”

  “Archimedes is an empath and has a limited ability to modify feelings. Archippos can alter the energy stream of Kindred to incite blood rage or the dark veil. Whatever he does makes it impossible for the infected to connect to the collective and then their stream turns poisonous.”

  Such extraordinary power in her family. Odd to think of them as relatives since their gifts served the Paladins, but they were of her blood.

  “What of Archelaus?” Neith asked.

  “He can disrupt one’s energy stream, causing extreme pain, rendering one powerless for a period of time.”

  “Your father’s bloodline is strong and often has a prominent secondary ability. Do they have no other gifts?”

  Something unspoken passed between the two women. Neith’s gaze swung to the lion-headed statue as a man carrying a tray of food and a pitcher entered the room.

  Serenity took a cup made from the husk of some fruit. The water had a sweet aftertaste. When she looked up, Sothis and Neith were staring at her. She’d definitely missed something important.

  “How did Arcturus pull off the coup?” Neith asked, squelching the awkward moment.

  Another furtive glance. Sothis sat rigid, practically on the edge of the seat.

  Neith brushed the feather across a cheek. “Serenity, I believe you’d enjoy our honey wine.”

  A man handed a cup of amber liquid to her.

  Earthy flavors and the sweetness of a liqueur rolled in her mouth. The wine packed a punch, opening her nostrils, leaving a blazing trail down to her stomach. She sipped it, eyeing the tray of food. Her appetite hadn’t returned, but it’d been more than a day since she’d eaten.

  “Young phoenix, is your ingenium related to the flow or manipulation of energy, or do you have some affinity to heka?”

  Doubt tightened her lips, but if Sothis had crossed the world to bring her here, she hoped Neith could be trusted. “I can project my thoughts and emotions.”

  Neith leaned forward, keen interest twinkling in her otherworldly eyes. “How has it manifested?”

  “I projected a realistic image of my father shooting himself while surrounded by humans. I didn’t understand what I was doing at the time, but they all thought it was real.”

  The blonde woman stopped typing and stared along with Sothis.

  “Continue,” coaxed Neith.

  “When Cyrus and I…make love I generate an energy field. I lost control once and shattered windows.” That was a gross understatement. “And I killed a battle-guard of Sekhem.”

  “How?” Sothis asked, twisting in her seat.

  “I projected anger, my desire to see him suffer into a ball of energy. And he did suffer until his bloody carcass stopped flopping.”

  The gaze of every warrior in the room fixed on Serenity.

  “What else can you do, young phoenix? What is your secondary gift?”

  Serenity shook her head. She was still coming to grips with the manifestation of her ingenium, but couldn’t think of any secondary gift.

  “Ladies,” Neith said, pitch rising, “if this arrangement is to work, it will require complete disclosure. My patience is remarkable, but our time together is uncertain.” She looked at Sothis. “The Sodalitas hierarchy has always been a mystery. Are you a colony of Sekhem or a wing within?”

  “House Sekhem is our beloved brother, not our great father. They have our allegiance. We often work in tandem, but we serve our own purpose.”

  “Brothers so entangled in each other’s affairs you’re mistaken as one?” Neith’s brow furrowed.

  House Herut and Aten had it wrong all these years. Not even the all-knowing Neith knew the truth about the Paladins.

  “Sekhem has no hand in our affairs, but our leader has a seat on their Council.”

  Discarding the feather, Neith rested her forearms on the desk. “Why would Sekhem give up one third of its controlling power to the Paladins when you’re not a wing upon its body?”

  “It’s the price for our love.”

  A chill nipped Serenity’s spine. The Paladins must be powerful indeed.

  Neith eyed Sothis. “Do you serve the Paladins with a heart full of love?”

  Serenity’s breath caught in her throat as she waited for the answer.

  “I do.”

  Heart squeezing, she rose and wandered to the open space where there should’ve been a window. She leaned against the railing. If all her mother’s love was for a pack of assassins, there was nothing left for her.

  Fingers snapped in the distance. A warrior appeared at Serenity’s side, holding her backpack.

  “Argyle will show you to your room.”

  Serenity turned. “I’m not going anywhere. Apparently you’re the only one who can get this woman to spill her secrets. I intend to hear firsthand what the hell happened to my father.”

  “You may read the transcripts at a later date.” Neith relaxed in her chair.

  Sothis placed a hand on the desk. “I agreed to full disclosure to you, not my daughter.”

  “Be at ease,” Neith said.

  Serenity walked up to the desk. “I’m not waiting for transcripts that could mysteriously disappear. I’ve waited twenty-five years for answers. I can’t leave now.”

  “It would be a mistake to confuse my kindness for weakness,” Neith said. “To have sanctuary is to follow my rules. Retire to your quarters. Join us tomorrow once you’ve rested.”

  After supplicating for sanctuary, there was little room to maneuver. She turned to her mother. “Thank you for saving me from whatever was waiting at Aten.” Sothis met her gaze. Brilliant violet eyes drilled into her soul, making her want to scream and cry. “I have a right to know what happened to my father and to me. I’ll do whatever is necessary to find out.”

  Serenity tightened her grip on the cup of honey wine and left the room.

  “This way.” Argyle led her to the second level down a long corridor to a room of sparse accommodations and no windows.

  “Are you going to lock me in?”

  “There are no locks on any of the doors besides Neith’s personal quarters.”

  “Great.” Also meant Neith was the only one entitled to privacy.

  He set her bag on the floor. “Lights low.” Light from panels on the walls and ceiling turned on to a soft glow. “Do you require anything else?”

  “No, thank you.”

  He left, closing the door. She sat on the twin bed, sipping her drink. Honey wine warmed her belly.

  After twenty-five years her mother returned, hell bent on keeping the truth a secret. She had a right to know who killed her father and why. She had a right to know why she was abandoned and who had tampered with her memories, even if she had to walk through hell itself to find out.

  Chapter Twelve

  The dorm style bedroom only had a toilet and sink instead of a full bathroom. Although the accommodations were meager, the room was tranquil. On the dresser were fresh clothes in ivory and towels. Serenity grabbed an outfit that looked to be her size and a towel.

  As she reached for the doorknob, someone knocked twice, making her hesitate. She opened the door to face the dark-haired man with telekinetic powers.

  “Hello,” he said warmly. “I’m Soren. The morning meal will end shortly. If you don’t eat now, you’ll have to wait until evening.”

  “Is there a place where I can shower first?”

  “Certainly.”

  Gazing around, she followed Soren past a row of similar rooms. A few opened doors revealed half-made beds and personal items. At the end of the hall, eight dormitory sectors converged around the opening of the dome. Bright sun
light flooded in.

  They walked past a sector closed by a set of heavy doors. “Is this area restricted?”

  “This sector is for people who work at night. Those with musical gifts reside down this other sector. They close the main doors when they practice so as not to disturb others.”

  A variety of musical instruments, strings, winds and percussion, adorned the walls along the main area where the sectors converged. As they entered a different section of the octagon, moisture caressed her skin. Running showers must’ve been ahead.

  A naked man, tall and lean, passed them with a towel draped over his shoulder, and she cut her gaze away.

  When they turned the corner, she froze, gaping. Open bay showers were filled with beautiful men and women. Shapely bodies—tan, alabaster, golden and brown—showered side by side. Three men and two women had tattoos on their backs, long swords with a key and lightning bolt for a handle.

  No one appeared self-conscious, except Serenity, whose heart had leapt into her throat.

  “Are you all right?” Soren asked.

  She averted her gaze and stared at the tile floor. “Are there other facilities, more private?”

  He took her down a hallway that led outside. Open air showers separated by partitions lined the perimeter.

  “Will this do?”

  The spectacular view of the ocean and emerald greenery of the island was breathtaking, but showering outside didn’t qualify as more private. “No other options?”

  “We have private baths on the other side.”

  Relief brought a smile to her face. “Thank goodness.”

  “But they require so much water they’re for two or more only.”

  “I can’t even bathe in private?”

  “You could ask your mother to join you.”

  She shook her head. “That won’t be possible.” Despite how much she wanted the situation to be otherwise.

  “I’m sorry our facilities aren’t up to your standards.”

  Insulting the accommodations of her hostess wasn’t a smart way to show gratitude. “Don’t mind me. Humans, Americans actually, are a bit freaky about privacy. We have a lot of hang-ups when it comes to our bodies.”