by Linda Welch
Lasagna heavy with cheese. I tried to smile, but it slipped off my face. Where the hell are you, Royal?
“Tiff, let us move past this.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ryel did what is best for you and Bel-Athaer. You will forget him and become what you are meant to be.”
Never. “Do you read minds, too?”
“I see you are sad. I am sure he is never far from your thoughts, but you will put it behind you, niece. Look to the future.”
Cicero beamed. He scooped a big slice of lasagna from the pan and on my plate. I poked at it with a fork as he told me children of our family go to their House’s Seer when old enough to leave home. He called them aides, a nicer word than servant. His aides lived in the village below his cavern.
I lent him half an ear, because then, then I remembered.
I pushed my plate away. “I understand you work closely with another Seer. Orcus. The Burning Man.”
His brows sprang up. “Indeed I do.”
“Somebody tried to kill me. I think it was him.”
Now his eyes widened, then crinkled as he smiled. “I can assure you, it was not Orcus.”
He pushed his chair back, rose, and came around the table to me.
And blue-white flames licked over him.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I’m glad I didn’t have a mouthful, I might have involuntarily spit it out. The fine hairs on my arms stood up. I’m sure my eyes were wild.
Cicero and Orcus were the same man.
Although I couldn’t tell what happened inside that pillar of fire, I think Cicero mistook my expression for he sounded smug. “Impressive, isn’t it. But don’t be afraid, my dear, it is an illusion.”
A blazing arm lifted from his body and waved, as if to demonstrate. “A simple projection.”
The fire blew out as if he turned off a switch. “Technology is a wonderful thing,” he said gleefully.
He held his hand out and shook his sleeve back. A thin wire snaked between his thumb and index finger to a button smack dab in the middle of his palm. He turned his hand to show me how the wire ran from his splayed fingers, over his wrist and up his arm. Then he pushed his foot from beneath his robe as he lifted the hem. “Look closely.”
Throat dry, I studied his foot. A wire ran over his ankle to one of the large, glowing jewels on his sandal.
“A marvel, is it not? My master bequeathed it to me, he who was Seer before me. The wire goes up my sleeve, down my body to the projector in my shoe. I activate it with the button. Incredibly simple.”
My voice reflected the numbness in my heart. “The long sleeves and robe hide it.”
“Correct! I must hold my robe away from my foot and not move, which is somewhat limiting.”
“We’re not strong and fast as Gelpha, we don’t have their hypersensitivity, but we have to live with them,” I said leadenly. “We need an edge. All the mystery, the isolation, instilling fear in people, it’s to protect us.”
“Right again! You are a delight, my dear one.” He fished in a hidden pocket and produced a small metal box with two prongs on one end. It looked like a stun gun. “And there is always this if they prove obstinate.”
“Who proves obstinate?” My voice went cold, dead. “The people of Dun Falmor?”
His delight in me blinked out. “What do you know of Dun Falmor?”
“I stopped on the way here. I can see dead people, remember? I saw you there, through their eyes. I saw your assassins murder them.”
“It was necessary, for the High House, for Bel-Athaer. You must trust me,” he said stiffly.
No. I will never trust you. “And I’m supposed to say, sure, Uncle, if you say so. Why did you send your assassins after me?”
“I what?” He took one step to me and he did seem shocked. But he stopped when he saw my Ruger aimed at his belly.
And he grinned. “You are ready to shoot me.”
“Ready, willing and able.”
“I was right, you are my heir!”
“You have a strange way of welcoming me. I stopped overnight at a hostel on the way here. Three Ninja wannabes attacked me. They wore the same get-up as your guys. They were human. Before that, men planted a bomb in my house. My roommates saw them. They fit the description. And someone tried to run me off the road the other day.”
“I did not try to kill you!” He eased back. “I repeat, you are my heir. Why would I want you dead?” His shoulders sagged. “A rival Seer sent his acolytes. I am so sorry. I should not have let my desire to see you overcome commonsense.”
My gun wobbled. I lowered it a fraction, but kept my finger in the trigger guard. It looks like a man, burning. “You were in my backyard. You know I live with dead people who’d describe you, so you hid in the flames.”
He wound his hands together. “I should have sent my people, not looked on you in person. I was observed, my interest in you validated.”
“But the men who planted the explosives in my house, that happened before you came.”
“That night was not the first time. I have watched you on and off since you were a child.” He frowned miserably. “I thought to avoid discovery by inviting you here rather than fetching you – it is why I contacted you through Ryel and not directly - but you were already an object of interest. Others deciphered the threat you pose to them as a new rival. They tried to stop you reaching me.”
His face brightened. “But you are safe now. Here, in our home, none can touch you. My warriors will accompany you when you go abroad to fulfill your duties as Seer. I never travel unattended, and neither shall you.”
He seemed confident I’d join him and I wasn’t ready to disappoint him. I would be cautious with this man who called me his niece, let him believe I went along with his plans. I didn’t know enough about him and what I did know didn’t thrill me. His comments about Lawrence made my hackles rise.
“So your interest in me piqued theirs, these other Houses. They figured out who I am.”
“Unfortunately. They thought you were nothing more than another half-blood until then.”
My brows shot up. “Half-blood?”
“Before I explain, your assimilation into our society will be less problematic if you come to terms with the fact Earth is no longer our home and will never be again. When I speak of Earth and its inhabitants, it is of an alien dimension. We are children of Bel-Athaer, not that old world.”
Not on your life, bud. I nodded, but only to indicate I heard him. I didn’t care where I was born, Bel-Athaer was not my home.
He took his seat and settled back, making himself comfortable. “You know the people of Bel-Athaer mate with those in the other dimension. The children of these alliances are commonly called half-bloods. The policy regarding them is simple: do not acknowledge them, leave them to their human lives. What would it serve to tell them one of their parents came from another dimension, eh? They would suffer the turmoil which now churns in your breast, if indeed they believed. Their mother or father did not know with whom they consorted. The mere concept would overwhelm them.”
Worse than how I felt now. At least I had a basic grounding in Bel-Athaer.
“Only their physical appearance and, for some, their ability to see the dead mark children of our lineage. Both of your parents were pure-blood, but the Court, not knowing your history, assumed you were a half-blood. They do not understand what makes a Seer. They know only a small percentage of true-bloods and half-bloods can interact with the dead, but believe only true-bloods have the qualities required by a Seer. Which will cement your position as my successor when I reveal your heritage.”
I pictured the demons I saw on the way to the High House, how they treated me. “The people I met when I went to the High House to ask about Royal, they were awful polite, almost deferential. Did they know what I really am?”
“The commoners know nothing of half-bloods, whatever their parentage. They do not even know the High Lord has a trace of human blood in his v
eins. They looked at you and saw a Seer. They were in awe of you.”
I rubbed my brow where a headache built like a measured drumbeat. “So all this time, since I first came here, the Court kept quiet about what I am, or what they think I am. Not only the Court, everyone I met?”
My mind skipped back to the beginning, when I met Royal. Caesar and Phaid and Royal’s brother Kien. The demons in Royal’s ancestral home Morté Tescién. Gareth. The lords and ladies of Lawrence’s court. The councilors.
My brain tried to freeze as a question I did not want to ask crept insidiously into my mind. I had to ask, although I already knew the answer. “And… .” A fluttering in my chest. “Did Royal know?”
I locked my gaze with Cicero’s and saw eyes dewy with compassion. “Yes, Ryel knew. Do not be hard on him. I know the desire to tell you drove him to distraction. The High House decreed that enlightening half-bloods is imprudent and Ryel is ever the obedient servant. And he acted in your best interests.”
His gaze drifted, pensive. “The High House is mired in tradition which, I fear, no longer serves our modern nation. Tradition put a child raised in the other dimension on the Seat. I pray the boy is up to the challenge.” He shrugged.
My uncle and his cavern home took on a surreal quality as a phantom pain gnawed beneath my breastbone. I wanted to be alone, sink into misery in private.
He picked his fork up and dug in as if he’d not turned my life upside down. “You’re not hungry, my dear?”
I pushed my dish away. “I’m sorry. What I want is to get cleaned up.”
“How remiss of me. I’ll show you your room. You will find what you need there. I know the day has been long and exhausting, and I really should attend to your arm.”
I shook my head. “It’s doing okay. No swelling, no redness. The bandage should stay on for now.”
We went through his den to his office, to the passage and angled across to a door on the other side. He pointed back to a facing door, the fourth belonging to his suite. “That is my bedroom.”
His bedroom was directly opposite where he put me. How cozy.
He opened the door and ushered me inside. The room was too masculine for my tastes, but the huge bed looked comfortable and a door opened to a bathroom with roomy shower.
“The guest suite, rarely used and rather generic. I’ll get some of my people up here tomorrow to prepare one of the larger suites for you. Do you want any input on the décor, or does it matter?”
“Yes, I would.” I pasted on a smile, trying to appear interested and enthusiastic about living here.
Cicero preceded me into the bathroom where he pointed out the cabinet stuffed with fluffy towels, a miscellany of personal hygiene products, and where the extra toilet paper was kept.
I rejoined him back in the combination bedroom/living room.
“How many people do you have?”
“A few more than two hundred.”
“The village doesn’t seem that big.”
“The younger girls and boys and my little army live in dormitories. We have ten family homes. We also grow, manufacture and process most necessities you find in a self-sufficient village.” He went to the door. “I’ll clean up the kitchen, then I will away to bed. If you need anything or want to talk, remember my bedroom is across the way. If not, sleep well and I shall see you in the morning.”
The door closed with a soft click. My smile bled away. Eyes closed, forehead pressed to the door, I slumped. Alone, at last.
I peeled my hoodie off, put my Ruger and Derringer on the bedside table, tossed my backpack and hoodie on a couch smothered in fat pillows and sat on the edge of the bed. The pain was still there, familiar as an old friend, or enemy, an ache I felt before long, long ago. I knew what would happen if I let it conquer me. It would become the hole which opened when I dreamed Royal betrayed me. Everything I was with Royal would seep out.
He knew. All along, he knew. He and Cicero planned this.
I pushed my slumped shoulders up. No. I refused to give up on Royal. If I knew one thing, he loved me. I heard it in his voice, saw it in his eyes, felt it in his touch. I once told myself I should look at life through Royal’s eyes and now was the time to do it, the eyes of a Gelpha and the man who loved me, as I loved him.
Although I knew in my gut I couldn’t believe everything Cicero told me, some of what he said about Royal made sense. The Court knew seeing dead people didn’t necessarily make me a Seer and they thought I was some kind of mongrel to be kept in the dark about my ancestry. Royal was a member of the Court and as a Gelpha lord was bound by their laws. Maybe he’d have ignored the law, except he knew how I’d feel - I would spend the rest of my life yearning for the whole story, the who and wherefore. I could see him deciding to keep my identity to himself, knowing the truth would drive me crazy.
So far, so good.
Then Cicero enlightened him, and they planned to bring me here so my uncle could tell me the truth. Okay, I could see that too, at a stretch. If Royal thought my future lay in Bel-Athaer as a Seer who served his people, he might, just might, go along with it.
Except… . one thing still puzzled me. The cell phone. Why in the office?
And then I had it. I jumped to my feet and began pacing, back and forth beside the bed.
If the phone was left at my house, Jack and Mel would see who put it there. They’d tell me.
They’d tell me it wasn’t Royal.
The person who put the phone in my desk drawer wanted me to think Royal left it. He couldn’t do that in my house where my roommates would see him, as he saw them.
Dammit. Cicero or one of his minions left the phone. Cicero got Royal out of the way somehow, and planted the goddamn phone!
I swung around and grabbed up my Ruger. If you need anything or want to talk, my bedroom is across the way. Goddamn right I needed something. I needed to put a bullet in his goddamn… .
I stopped my feet as they took me to the door, stood with the gun hanging in my hand, sucking in deep breaths. Calm, Tiff, calm. Don’t forget Lawrence.
The negative way in which Cicero spoke of Lawrence set my teeth on edge and my uncle was a bad man. He was Orcus, the Burning Man. Lawrence had reason to fear for his life. But I couldn’t shoot the High House’s Seer. Seers served the Gelpha for centuries; they would not believe me if I marched in and told them what their precious Seer was really all about. I needed proof.
You’re an investigator, so investigate.
I put my gun on the bedside table. On impulse, I opened the tall closet. Two pairs of blue denim jeans. Two Tshirts, white and navy-blue. I checked the tags; all in my size.
And a long white robe, like Cicero’s.
I sat again to unlace my boots and pull them off. Shedding the rest of my clothes on the way to the bathroom, I dropped them on a plastic stool in one corner. A tall mirror on the wall made me pause and gaze at my reflection. Hecate.
After using the commode, I turned the water on and adjusted the temperature before stepping in the shower.
Bliss.
Water pounded my head and dashed against my body as I unraveled my braid. I closed my eyes, turned my face up to the water and reached for the soap. As I lathered up, I went over what Cicero told me. My uncle and I were human with no superhuman abilities. Except, we saw dead people. How did he use that in his capacity as Seer to the High House? He denied he possessed other abilities, but did he? Abilities I did not?
I pressed my forehead to the smooth tile. What a fucking adventure. Watching people die in Dun Falmor. Attacked by assassins. I didn’t expect any of this when I left Clarion with Gia and Chris. Certainly not finding an uncle.
I rinsed off, washed my hair and rinsed it twice. I got most of the water out but my hair continued to drip as I walked in the bedroom. I sat on the edge of the bed, toweled out more water and began the laborious process of brushing and braiding.
My rolled socks and underwear went in the backpack. Putting on clean underwear felt better than i
t ever had, and my clothes didn’t reek, yet. I ignored the clothes in the closet.
Time to do a little investigating.
I sat for a while, giving Cicero plenty of time to settle down and fall asleep. Now I could think, try to fit the pieces together, wonder about which were missing. His words circled in my head. He told me so much, yet too little. I couldn’t process all of it at the time. I still couldn’t.
I began my search with the room, which yielded nothing. Paperback and hardcover books stuffed a long, tall bookshelf against the wall near the bed. The books, though, were printed in Chaldean. Titles on a stack of CDs next a small stereo system were the same, and I had no inclination to listen to music. Nothing in the bedside table’s small drawer, or the king-size armoire.
Now to check out the rest of the place and be alert for trouble as I did. I doubted Cicero would let me go without a fuss if he knew what I thought of him and his plans for me. When I left, I might have to do it the hard way.
I smiled grimly. I might have to shoot him after all.
I tucked my Ruger in the waist of my jeans, Derringer in a hip pocket, found my lock picks and flashlight in the backpack and put my hoodie on. I didn’t need it in the warm confines of Cicero’s home, but it hid my guns.
Cautiously easing the door open a crack, I listened to the silence before stepping outside and closing the door behind me. Five wary paces took me across the corridor to Cicero’s bedroom door. I stood for a long minute with ear pressed to the wood until I detected gentle snores from within.
We were alone, my Uncle and I, and he slept. Lacking a Gelpha’s sharp hearing, he would sleep on if I didn’t blunder into something and make a noise.
I went back along the passage we traversed to reach his suite. None of the doors were locked. Going through another suite of rooms took me longer than I liked and yielded nothing of interest.
Another room contained canned foodstuffs on shelves and dry goods in barrels on the floor. In another, twin rows of large filing cabinets. The files were handwritten in Chaldean, but I went through them, just in case.
I started back the other way an hour later, passing mine and Cicero’s bedrooms. The passage swung right. I walked for half an hour and probably covered a mile. I was about to give up when I came to a wall. But not a dead end; the wall had been built across the passage, with a big door slap dab in the center.