“I think it’s our best bet. We could run some scenarios based upon that ruse. Maybe even map out a few ways to approach the school and its students, that kind of thing.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Suddenly, the door to the study swings open. Only one person can enter any room in Arx Hall without announcing herself first. Octavia. Sure enough, Lincoln’s mom speeds into the chamber. “What are you doing awake?” She tightens the belt of the long black dressing robe that she’s wearing. “Aren’t you due in court in six hours? You’re supposed to be presenting your case to the Arbiter today.”
Lincoln rises and kisses her lightly on the cheek. “We’re discussing wedding plans, Mother. What else?”
“Are you?” asks Octavia in a sly voice. “Because I’ve been planning this event with Myla’s mother, Camilla, and I know for a fact that neither one of you has shown any interest in the details.”
We go through this all the time. Lincoln tries to stall Octavia, but she always gets the information in the end. I decide to cut to the chase. “We were scheming with Lucas.”
Octavia purses her lips. “And I suppose you won’t tell me what those schemes are about?”
“No, Mother.” When Lincoln says this, it’s in his no-nonsense tone. Unlike the stalling maneuver, this one always works.
Octavia glances at the closed door. “And I suppose you had Lucas cast a compulsion spell not to discuss whatever you three were really up to?”
“Yes, so don’t bother trying to wheedle it out of him.” Lincoln folds his arms over his chest. “Now, what are you doing here, Mother?”
She folds her hands neatly at her waist. “Would you believe me if I said I wanted a friendly visit?”
“Not at all,” replies Lincoln. “You never visit after 9 p.m. And besides, I can see the edge of your fighting suit under your robe.”
“Oh, bother.” Octavia pulls the robe even more tightly around her. “I need you both to come with me. I’ve gotten some strange reports from my servants.”
“Sure thing,” I say. Octavia has about the best spy network in the after-realms. Nothing happens in Antrum without someone whispering it into the Queen’s ear, often within seconds after the fact.
“Follow me.” Octavia steps over to the far wall and pulls out one of the moving glass panels. She exposes a hidden passageway set behind the stainless steel.
Lincoln groans. Still, he pulls on a fresh tunic and some breeches. My guy can’t go wandering around Antrum in jeans. His people get twitchy about stuff like that. “How did you find out about that doorway, Mother? The new passage was supposed to be a secret. You don’t even want to know how hard I worked in order to keep it hidden.”
I raise my hand. “He worked really hard.” We had Striga cast about a hundred memory cleanses to keep everyone oblivious. Even one of those takes forever.
Octavia lifts her chin. “Well, try harder next time.”
Lincoln clears this throat. “I had a question. How did you find out I was building it?”
“A woman never shares her secrets.”
Lincoln chuckles. “On second thought, I’m not sure I want to know.”
Octavia steps into the hidden passageway inside the wall. Lincoln ignites his baculum to use as a torch. “Where are we off to?”
“The Vault. I know a secret way to get there.”
I pause. “Is something wrong with the codex?”
“I don’t know.” Octavia straightens her spine. “My spies tell me that Cryptan has been injured.”
My insides twist with worry. Cryptan’s hurt?
With that, we hustle our butts of into the semidarkness. There’s a warren of hidden corridors that all look the same to me. Good thing Octavia and Lincoln seem to know their way. Still, it feels like forever ekes by before we’re out of the hidden passages and into the courthouse. Soon, we’re standing before the Vault door itself. The same dicky Acca Captain is still on duty—Ethan—which gives me the creeps.
Octavia marches toward Ethan. She’s in full bitch-queen mode, which is really something to see. I want to cower under a large piece of furniture, and she isn’t even directing her anger at me. “When was the last time you spoke with Cryptan?”
“Good evening, Your Majesty.”
“It’s past three o’clock in the morning.”
“Good morrow, then.” His words drip with acidic hate. That’s not good. No one mouths off to Octavia. It’s simply not done.
Something is wrong. Very wrong.
“You’re supposed to check with him on the hour,” says Lincoln. “When was the last time that Cryptan responded to you?”
Ethan’s face stays eerily calm. “Only a few minutes ago.”
One advantage of being part demon is that I have a pretty good bullshit detector. And what Ethan just said? Total crap. The guy is lying.
“I see.” Octavia steps up to the door and pounds on it. “Cryptan! Open up!”
There’s no reply.
“The man’s fine,” says Ethan. “I’m sure Your Highnesses have better things to do than double-check my work.” He gestures toward the exit. “Now, if you don’t mind.”
“I do mind.” Octavia glances at Lincoln. “Son?”
“With pleasure, Mother.” Lincoln takes out his baculum. The pair of silver bars aren’t lit with angelfire. That said, they’re still pretty heavy items in their own right. Lincoln slams them into the side of Ethan’s head. The man falls to the ground in a lump, unconscious. Lincoln scans the other guards. “Anyone else want to interfere?”
No response. Wise choice, people.
Octavia extends her hand. “Then give me the keys.”
Another guard down the line steps forward, a gleaming set of skeleton keys in his hand. “Your Majesty.”
Octavia swipes the keys from him and gestures toward Ethan. “Get him some first aid.”
Part of me knows that knocking Ethan out was harsh, but more of me suspects that Cryptan is hurt and Ethan was involved somehow. Frankly, the dude’s lucky to be getting first aid.
While the guards drag off Ethan, Octavia fiddles with the spinny dials and locks on the round metal door. Why does one portal take so long to open? It seems to like an hour ekes by before Octavia can even get the door to budge. My breathing quickens.
Finally, Octavia pulls open the round metal door. Lincoln, Octavia, and I rush inside the Vault. What I see makes me gasp.
Blood. Everywhere.
A huge body lays on the floor, motionless. No, no, no. I race over and fall on my knees beside the body. “Cryptan. Are you—” The words catch in my throat. His armor has been slashed through so much his torso has been cut in half.
He’s dead.
“Cryptan!” I cry.
Lincoln kneels beside me. “I’m sorry, Myla. I know you two were friends.” He looks up at Octavia. “The body’s still warm. Who could have done this?”
“Who, indeed?” A voice sounds from the opened door.
It’s Aldred.
My blood boils with rage. What is that asswad doing here? The Earl of Acca parades into the Vault along with the rest of the guard who’d been all-too-conveniently waiting outside. I swear, there weren’t this many of them here a minute ago. Aldred must have called in reinforcements. Now, there’s like fifty Acca warriors here.
“I thought there might be trouble tonight. And look what I discover.” Aldred points to Cryptan’s body. “Our sacred protector is dead.”
Cryptan’s blood drips from my fingertips and down my white Scala robes. Fury pounds through me. It’s not a coincidence that Cryptan is dead and Aldred shows up two minutes later with a bunch of warriors. I rise to face Aldred. “What did you do to him?”
Aldred ignores me and makes a great show of scanning the room. “One of the books is missing.” He steps over to the spot where our evidence codex used to be stored. “Oh, no. The Rixa Codex is gone. And since these magical books can’t be destroyed, someone must have taken it!”
Hea
t pools behind my eyes, and I know my irises are lighting up red with demonic hatred. I’d been so concerned about Cryptan I hadn’t even noticed that the codex was stolen. What a bastard that Aldred is. This entire thing was his doing, I’m sure.
Lincoln stands beside me, his jawline trembling with rage. “I knew you’d do something to upset the trial. But this?”
Aldred waves his arm dismissively. “You’re too blinded with lust to see the truth. The enchanted books in here are filled with the secrets of our people. They are filled with so much magic, they’re indestructible. Your fiancée stole one of the most valuable: the codex for the ruling House of Rixa.” He glares at me. “Never trust a demon.”
“I had nothing to do with this.”
“Is that so?” Aldred steps over to the wall and pretends to notice some markings there. “Look what I found! The imprints of an arrowhead-shaped tail. Those are extremely rare, aren’t they? Right now, only one person in Antrum has such a tail. You, girly. It looks like Cryptan put up quite a fight before you killed him.”
Lincoln grips my hand with more force. “This is obviously a setup. No one will ever believe you, Aldred.”
Octavia moves to stand beside us. If she’s concerned about the fifty soldiers blocking us from the exit, then she doesn’t show it. “I won’t allow this.”
Aldred jabs a chubby finger in my direction. “You’ve all been blinded by this demon. Remember your responsibilities. With Adair gone, Lincoln should be wooing my next eldest daughter, Avery. That’s what our marriage contract had said.”
“I never signed that document, Aldred.” Lincoln’s voice is deadly low. “In fact, I stepped away from forming an alliance of the lesser houses in exchange for you dropping this marriage farce altogether, don’t you remember?”
“That was done under false pretenses. I had no idea you’d take up with a demon.”
“She’s not a demon; she’s the great scala.” Lincoln inhales slowly. A muscle twitches along his neck. It’s taking everything he has not to ignite his baculum and go to town.
I give Lincoln’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Stop trying to distract from the main issue here. This isn’t about me. It’s about your dreams of ruling.”
Nice work, me. My tail and I exchange a high-five. That was some pretty logical maneuvering for someone with serious rage issues.
Lincoln gives me an approving nod. I could just about jump over the moon, I feel so awesome about that. “Myla’s right.” Lincoln returns his attention to Aldred. “You need to give up on these dreams of my marrying into your family. It’s over. I’m engaged to Myla, and we’re getting married Sunday.”
“The demon girl is the one who must give up,” snarls the Earl. “She made you drag me into court.”
I roll my eyes. “You are so full of crap. Lincoln hates you and you know it.”
“What I am is innocent of all charges. Armageddon is my sworn enemy.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I shake my head. “I need a minute here. How can you keep spewing out lies like that?”
“Because I’m not the liar. I’m not the murderer, either. This is all on you, demon. You used your lust charms to wheedle your way into Cryptan’s life. And when you knew the codex didn’t have enough evidence? You killed him in cold blood so you could steal away the proof of your failure. You’ll never prove my guilt by Friday, and both of you will spend your lives in jail.” Aldred turns to Lincoln. “Is it really worth it? A life in prison to cover up for a demon whore?”
Demon whore? “Watch your mouth, or I’ll send you to Hell early.”
“Not before I slice him in two.” Lincoln takes out his baculum. “Address Myla properly.”
“My mistake, Great Scala,” says Aldred. Still, he doesn’t seem too worried about Lincoln’s baculum or my threat to send him to fiery down under. That’s not a good sign. Aldred points to the empty spot where the Rixa Codex once stood. “First things first. You have no evidence.”
“We’ll gather fresh testimony,” says Lincoln. “There’s a lot of time between now and Friday.”
“No, there isn’t any time at all.” Aldred pulls out a scroll of parchment from the folds of his tunic. “I have a signed writ here from your father, the King. The House of Acca has just been awarded the Rights of Prisonry in Antrum.”
Rights of Prisonry. That means they now run every jail. “I thought Kamal ran the prisons.”
“Time was, they did.” Aldred lifts his chin. “Now, it’s Acca.” He taps a spot on the writ. “And as we all know, in cases of murder on thrax lands, all suspects must be held indefinitely in prison.” He glares at me. “I’ve a nice cell already picked out for you.”
The world seems to stop spinning for a moment. I knew Lincoln’s father was acting strangely, but to sign a writ like this with Acca? To get me carted off to prison before our day in court? I never would have expected this betrayal. Neither would Octavia, it would seem. She marches over to Aldred and takes the sheet from his hands.
“That can’t be right.” Octavia scans the document carefully. “This must be a forged signature. Connor would never do such a thing.” The words come out as more of a question than a statement, though.
My heart sinks. Lincoln has always called it. He said Connor would never allow Acca to end up in jail. I thought maybe Connor had gotten over his Acca love-fest. Looks like I was wrong though. And knowing Aldred’s love of blackmail? He must be holding something awful over Connor’s head.
Aldred pulls the parchment back from Octavia. “I want no trouble with you, my Queen. Myla is coming with me.”
I’ve never wanted to kill anyone more than I do Aldred right now. “And Lincoln?”
“Ah, yes. We’re detaining him for questioning as well.”
“Let me guess.” I smack my lips. “The detaining process includes slapping my fiancé in a prison cell.”
“It’s standard operating procedure for prisonry in Acca.”
I roll my eyes. “You just made that up.”
“Whine all you want,” says Aldred. “All that matters is one simple fact. Neither of you are going to court today, I’m afraid.”
Right.
I turn to Lincoln. “What are our options? Tell me we don’t have to do this.”
Lincoln’s mismatched eyes fill with despair. “I wish I could say that.”
“You see?” asks Aldred. “Our High Prince Lincoln is an honorable man. He will always respect our laws and traditions.” Aldred waves the parchment in his hand. “And he must follow the dictates of his King.”
Now, there are times when I wish that I were Queen of the Thrax. Now isn’t one of them. In fact, I’m pretty psyched that I’m only a supernatural being who isn’t in any way a permanent thrax official. Why? Because I get to say this.
“Lincoln might have to follow your stupid rules, but I don’t.”
Aldred frowns. “You think you can pull that same scheme that you did with Adair? Use your little tricks to threaten my people with Heaven or Hell in order to get your way?” He pulls out a small amulet from under his tunic. “Well, that won’t work again, girly. I’ve gotten protection from the likes of you. The only time you can touch my soul is when I’m dead.”
“I can help with that,” says Octavia.
“Don’t fill the air with your false threats,” retorts Aldred. “Everyone else may be afraid of the so-called great scala. I’m not. Both she and the prince coming with me, and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it.” He glares in my direction. “Right?”
I open my mouth to tell him to stuff it, when an image appears in my mind. It’s the message from my father. Meet me in the clubhouse.
That’s exactly what I’ll do.
“I have no intention of using my powers on you or your people.” I shrug. “Not at this very moment, anyway.”
The look that comes over the Earl’s piggish face can only be described as gloating. “Glad to hear it.”
I look to Lincoln and lower my voice to a whisper. “You
know what I’m thinking?” I shoot a quick glance upward, aka the Heavenly direction.
Lincoln catches on right away. “I do. The clubhouse.”
Boy, do I ever love this guy. He can guess my thoughts like nobody’s business. But he does need to understand the risks here.
“I’ve never pulled physical bodies up to Heaven before, Lincoln. Only souls.” Since I’m part demon, getting me in Heaven will be especially tricky.
“You can do anything, Myla.” Even though he’s whispering, there’s no mistaking the excitement in my guy’s voice.
My heart warms with his confidence. “Be ready to move on my signal.”
“I will.”
Aldred sets his hands on his hips. “Are you two done with your little discussion? Ready to accept reality?”
“Yes.” I make a great show of sniffling. “Lincoln and I will follow your rules. First, you must let Octavia go.”
Aldred waves to his soldiers. “Allow the Queen to exit.”
Octavia scans Lincoln and me carefully for a few seconds. Her mouth slowly winds into a small smile. She’s two steps ahead of us, I’m sure. “I’m glad you’ll do your duty, my son.”
“Always, Mother.”
Octavia leaves the chamber. Once the sound of her footfalls disappears, Aldred refocuses on Lincoln and me. “Now, let’s return to business, shall we?”
Let’s not.
“Hang on, Lincoln.”
Lincoln pulls my back against his chest. “Like this?”
“Perfect.”
“I said enough of your yammering to each other.” The Earl waves to his troops. “Move in. Take them by force if necessary.” The soldiers charge across the darkened floor.
That means it’s time to go.
I raise my arms over my head. From my soul, I call out to my igni.
Help me, little ones. Take me and Lincoln into Heaven.
Music instantly fills my mind. It’s sweet singing that only I can hear. These are the voices of the light igni, the forces that pull souls to the Pearly Gates. Hearing their lovely music instantly calms me.
Suddenly the room fills with the brightness of a dozen suns. Thousands of igni materialize around Lincoln and me. They are small lightning bolts of power, each one no longer than my thumb. The igni whorl and dive around us in a column of light that spans from the floor to the ceiling. Aldred’s troops try to break through, but it’s no use. My igni hold them back with ease. The guards’ shadowy forms are barely visible beyond the wall of tiny, shifting lightning bolts.
Acca (Angelbound Origins Book 3) Page 9