“Show me the stripes you received for speaking the truth of me, for condemning your father’s heresy.”
Nassore froze, feeling ashamed that he’d made such a big commotion of it when it was no more a punishment than he’d received many times over the years, but admittedly, not recently. “My lady, it’s nothing.”
“Show me,” she repeated, her voice low and seductive.
Zain stood and came to Nassore’s side. He leaned close and whispered. “It will be all right. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You were not the one who did anything wrong.” His hands went to Nassore’s cloak and he helped the prince remove it, then let it fall to the floor. Then, with deft fingers, he unfastened the prince’s belt.
Kneeling down, he removed the prince’s boots. All the while, Nassore couldn’t take his eyes off Pang. He felt almost dizzy with her presence, as though he could not breathe.
Reaching up, Zain put his hands on Nassore’s hips and pulled his trousers down in a smooth motion. He helped the prince step out of them. Zain touched Nassore to encourage him to turn his back to the goddess, lifting the hem of his long tunic to fully expose the back of his thighs to his buttocks.
Pang gasped when she saw the stripes he’d received. “Such brutality you’ve endured.” He voice was low and husky. “Remove his tunic. It’s blocking the light.”
Standing, Zain did as his mother commanded, tenderly undressing Nassore. He went further, stripping him down until he wore nothing but the small undergarments that barely covered his modesty.
Nassore met Zain’s gaze, and the demi-god smiled tenderly at him. Every place where he’d touched Nassore was alight with warmth.
“It is beautiful that you accepted such condemnation,” Pang said from behind him. “Such an act of love and devotion.” When her fingers met his skin, he jumped at the jolt of pleasure that shot through him. “But I cannot allow you to bear such ugly marks for me.”
Her healing touch was even more intense than Zain’s. She traced the marks on his thighs one by one until all five lashes were healed. Each time, the pleasure was so intense he had to fight not to cry out.
His entire body was rigid with desire. The heat of embarrassment warmed him, for he knew that the evidence of his yearning would not be hidden by the thin fabric. In fact, he was straining hard against the fine cloth.
Zain leaned close and whispered, his voice low, “Don’t be ashamed of your body. It’s a beautiful thing to be enjoyed.” He ran his fingers over Nassore’s chest, then gently motioned for the prince to face Pang. “Your desire is as much an act of worship as receiving that punishment had been. It pleases us.”
Pang’s eyes travelled down his body, purring with satisfaction at what she saw. She lay back on the cushions and pulled the diaphanous robe up as she spread her legs before him. “Worship me, young prince. Worship your goddess.”
Nassore, overwhelmed with the heady rush of desire that filled his entire body, went to his knees in front of her, showing his adulation with his tongue on her flesh. Her scent made him wild with want, and it took every fiber of control to keep himself from rushing to his goal. Pang’s vessel roared with delight and clawed at the cushions as he continued his devotion.
He barely registered the action as Zain stripped him of his underclothes, and he barely needed the encouragement as the demi-god guided him up to take position with his hips between her legs. When he thrust inside her, she threw back her head and cried out, her body pulsing.
Zain lay beside Pang, holding her as Nassore moved with long, deliberate motions. The demi-god watched intently, growling with his own unquenched desire.
Reaching up, Zain touched Nassore’s chest. It seemed so right to share this intoxicating and beautiful moment.
“More,” Pang demanded as she writhed beneath Nassore. “Give me more. Give yourself to me completely.”
Nassore did as she commanded, pushing with wild frenzy, but it wasn’t until Zain reached down and touched them where their bodies joined that the prince lost control completely. He stared into the goddess’ deep and sparkling eyes, and as his body released all the tension and carnal bliss it has been withholding, for a moment, he saw into infinity.
The world went dark, and he became consumed with Pang’s presence.
Nassore met Zain’s eyes and saw the hedonistic hunger within them. He climbed off of Pang’s vessel and devoured Zain’s mouth, reveling in the carnal rapture he found there.
Chapter 26
Graiphen had never been a man given to nerves. His entire life, he’d done what needed to be done, often the things no one else would do. Positions of power were not for the weak-minded or those with a conventional view of morality.
So as he hunkered in a small room in Pang’s temple, the wavering sensation in his stomach puzzled him. He couldn’t chalk it up to old age, although his joints certainly did ache more than they would have if he’d been hiding half the day at Korbin’s age. The unfamiliar feeling distressed him more than what he was about to do.
It wasn’t so much the worry of getting caught. That, he knew, was inevitable. The thing that made his gut rumble was the almost certain failure of his current task. He knew how powerful Pang was and that killing her wouldn’t be as easy as walking up and plunging in the knife, and yet, here he was.
He’d felt Pang’s presence within him when he carried her from Vol to Durjin. She’d possessed him already, using him like a toy. Disgust filled him as he recalled how he couldn’t even voice his protests, because she would not allow it.
For a fleeting moment, he wondered if Pang’s vessel, Kiarana, felt the same way, if her own will lay subordinate within, if she felt the same disgust that he had, when Pang had forced him to submit to her primal desire and need to feed. But as soon as the question entered his mind, he dismissed it. Kiarana had been eager enough to house the goddess. She might not have known what she was getting into when she volunteered, but that was merely a reflection of her own stupidity.
The tiny closet where he hid was situated three levels up from the inner sanctum where Pang made her home. He felt confident he would not be found in this out-of-the-way, spider-infested storeroom. The temple would die down soon. It had been a busy day with the acceptance of the new acolytes.
Naturally, he would have preferred to wait in the comfort of his own temple, but Seba’s death was not going to go uninvestigated long, and he didn’t dare demand the help of his own temple until he’d done as his goddess commanded. The simple-minded guard went for help after Graiphen explained that Seba had, in fact, tried to conjure. He’d been too upset at the turn of events to even think of arresting Graiphen.
As soon as he’d gone, Graiphen slipped out and left the palace. He hadn’t even had the chance to wash his hands. Every moment seemed like he was one step closer to being arrested. That might happen, he knew. In some ways, that might be preferable to what Braetin had in mind for him, not that he really thought that a prison could protect him. He knew better than to hope that she would forget and move on to her next plan. She was capricious, yes, and it would be possible to distract her, but once she set her mind to revenge, she would have it.
At one point in the evening, after hiding for several hours, he decided it was time to move down to Pang’s inner sanctum. Unlike Braetin’s, it was not heavily guarded, but she did not have a portal to protect, nor did she have the Red Manus. In time, he supposed, she would have armies to command, but for now, she was weak, vulnerable in her comfortable, silken nest.
But before Graiphen could get far, he had to stop and scurry back. Prince Nassore was walking by, hand-in-hand with Zain. The two men’s voices trailed downward as they descended to the lower floor.
Having returned to his closet, Graiphen had to think. Of course he’d known what had happened earlier in the day, and his mind whirred as he considered the implications of Nassore coming here against his father’s wishes. This rebellion could be the seed that began a Talmoran civil war. Was that what Pang wante
d?
Despite his service to the Spirits, Graiphen considered himself loyal to the empire. He knew what he’d just seen must be reported to the emperor. Did the palace even know Prince Nassore was missing? He pushed the thought aside. He had a task to do.
No answers came quickly. His stomach rumbled and his joints ached from staying in one position so long. His hand kept going to the knife in his robes, and thus he reassured himself the blade hadn’t vanished. After a time, however, he resigned himself to waiting. A half hour, an hour, two hours… what difference would so short a time make? It could be that no one even yet knew that Nassore was not where everyone thought him to be, and Graiphen couldn’t give up what might be his last opportunity to do what he should have done weeks ago, before that abomination Zain was even conceived, or at the very least the first moment Pang spoke of betraying Braetin.
Even though Graiphen felt sure of where Prince Nassore and Zain had gone, he moved from his hiding place and headed down into the temple’s depths. He wished he wasn’t wearing the distinctive red robes of his temple, but fortunately, he was able to duck into a side room anytime he heard voices.
The lower levels of Pang’s temple were laid out very similarly to Braetin’s, and that fact alone made the task easier. Once, however, when expecting to enter another storage room, he found himself in someone’s study. Fortunately, the occupant must have been at prayers, for Graiphen found himself alone. He didn’t dare wait long in case the resident returned, so he searched around until he found a room that seemed less likely to be disturbed. He was a mere twenty paces away from the inner sanctum.
The temple clock chimed the hour for nightly prayers before Nassore and Zain emerged, pulling the door closed behind them. “Come, let us eat,” Nassore said. “I’m hungry.”
Zain chuckled. “You’re always hungry.”
Nassore laughed low in his chest. “Then feed me.”
With an adoring look, Zain kissed the prince on the mouth. “Soon,” he said. “Soon you will have more than you could possibly want. I promise.”
Nassore cocked his mouth into a half-grin. “You’d be surprised how much I want.”
“No,” Zain said. “I don’t think I would be. Your highness,” he added, as though the title was an afterthought.
Together the pair went down a corridor that curved away from Graiphen’s hiding place, deeper into the temple’s winding maze.
After their voices had retreated into silence, Graiphen slipped out of the room and toward the inner sanctum. He could talk his way past whatever servants Kiarana had within. He’d been here many times, so they’d not think it strange when he appeared. His robes were red, so the bloodstains wouldn’t alarm them.
Once he did the deed and cut Kiarana’s throat, they would be too frightened to prevent his escape, and although he was a man of middle age, he had no doubt he could still best any of the willowy priests he’d seen here.
His stomach churned. With his hand on the center plate of the door, he pushed. He was surprised to find it pitch black and quiet within. Would Kiarana have left? He’d heard of her going nowhere after she’d been chosen, instead letting Zain do all the errand running and appearances for her.
Panic started to rise in his chest. Where could she be? The threat of failure suddenly became more real and his knees felt weak.
“Damn you, Kiarana,” he muttered in the darkened room.
A hushed murmur met his ears and he turned. He shivered when he realized he was not alone.
His eyes finally settled on the bed in the rear of the room. The linens were in disarray, and he had mistakenly thought the chamber empty.
Given the early hour of the night, the realization that she must be sleeping surprised him, but he smiled in the darkness, happy at how fate had favored him. This would be easier than he had dared hope.
Stepping quietly in his soft priestly shoes, he slid the knife out of his robe. When he arrived close to her, he saw she wasn’t sleeping at all. Her legs were spread in a most disgusting display with her hand between them. At first, he thought she was dead, and then he realized she was breathing and her hand was moving.
She was completely unaware of his presence.
Confused, Graiphen watched her for a moment, then averted his eyes, repulsed. Pang’s presence was gone. Of that, he was certain. All that remained was the husk of Kiarana.
A moment of indecision gripped him before he put the knife away. Curse the eight, he whispered.
He turned to go just as someone else came to the door. Qardone Vono entered, followed by a dozen priests and priestesses. When he saw Graiphen, his eyes widened in surprise. He gestured for the lamps to be relit and when he did, he saw Graiphen’s hands.
Graiphen looked down at the dark stains on his fingers.
“What have you done?” Vono said. He raced to Kiarana’s side, but then sighed with relief when he found her unhurt.
“Nothing,” Graiphen said.
Vono whirled around. “You came here with evil intent.”
“Evil? I do the will of my goddess, as you do.”
With another gesture, Vono silently instructed the other priests, who went and gathered Kiarana into their arms. Her head lolled to the side, her eyes fixed into a distant stare.
“What will you do with her now that she’s no longer the vessel of Pang?” Graiphen asked.
Vono watched the priests carry her away. To those who remained, he said, “Quickly, clean and prepare the chamber.”
“For whom?” Graiphen asked.
“For our mistress,” Vono said. “And Kiarana will be honored, as is her due. She served well and faithfully. She will not be harmed, if that is what is worrying you.” He watched Graiphen. “But that wouldn’t worry you, would it? What does worry you, Graiphen? Growing old? Your impending insignificance?” He laughed unpleasantly.
“Prince Nassore,” Graiphen said. “Pang has taken him?”
Vono smirked. “Even you wouldn’t dare do harm to the emperor’s son. I’m afraid you’re too late. You will not find it so easy to return here, as we’ve been ordered to begin posting guards now that our goddess has favored the prince. But don’t worry, I doubt he will have the same use for you that Kiarana did.” He paused. “Although you never know. Pang’s tastes are her own, and if she favored your… worship… before, no doubt she will again, no matter whose body she chooses to inhabit.”
Bile rose in Graiphen’s throat. He would not submit to the sexual whims of Pang again, especially not if she inhabited the body of that boy. But the dread knotting his stomach told him he’d be powerless to stop her.
“Show the Ultim Qardone out of the temple,” Vono said, signalling to two of the priests. “And make sure he leaves.”
Chapter 27
That evening, unable to bear doing nothing, Octavia did as she knew she should have done before and sent for members of the Sennestelle in Durjin. Self-conscious worry settled over her. She was barely out of her apprenticeship and was only released and proclaimed free to practice on her own a few months before.
On the other hand, she was a guest of the emperor and that gave her some status, even amongst her own people. Sen Betram, the man who was head of the conduits in Durjin, Senne Gysella, an archivist and teacher, and Senne Treviia, one of the highest ranking members of her order in all of Talmor, arrived within an hour of her summons and she received them in her chamber, not trusting any of the reception rooms in the palace to be truly private.
Senne Gysella was a small, narrow-faced woman with greying black hair. The hunch in her back made her seem even shorter. “We’ve come as requested,” she said sourly.
“Please, sit,” Octavia said. “Thank you for your help.”
Betram took a seat next to Senne Treviia, a stout women with peculiarly small eyes. She wore green robes, showing that she was in mourning. Octavia decided not to comment, despite that Kilovian custom dictated that she should offer a blessing.
“I will come straight to the point.” She
paused. “In my time dealing with the dark conduit Seba of Vol, I have come to learn a few things.”
Gysella adjusted herself on the fat cushions. “Such as?”
“That the Spirits of Light and Shadow are not merely dangerous fictions, but true creatures of power. They exist in physical form in another realm and use a portal that allows them limited access to this one. They can possess humans, though they seem to do so to volunteers. I do not know if this is choice or a limitation.
“I know they can make themselves felt and heard if one is close to the portal, and I know that at least one of them is planning to come through physically. This must not be allowed, of course.”
Octavia took a breath, and the others did not interrupt. “The man Zain, whom you’ve no doubt heard of, is literally the son of Pang, as he claims. What you might not realize is that he was conceived mere weeks ago.”
The other conduits looked at one another, and Gysella sucked in her breath. “This sounds outrageous. Who told you these things?”
“Most of this information came from the Spirits themselves. I spoke to the one called Braetin. That conversation is part of the reason you are here. It was she who first used the phrase Child of Eurmus. It has been one of the few clues I’ve been able to gather. I don’t know the origin of the phrase, so I’ve set out to find out what it meant.” She also told them what Korbin had found in a book, where a Talmoran soldier referred to “the Children.”
Betram’s face grew redder as he spoke. “Despite the rumors coming from Vol, we know the Talmoran gods are not real. The only truth lay in the power of the One. This Zain person is nothing but a fraud, a priest they’ve dressed up to fool the weak-minded into pledging service.”
“Not real? That is what they say of our teachings,” Octavia said. “But they are not my only source.”
Treviia furrowed her brow. “Who else, child?”
Octavia bristled at being called child. She was no longer an apprentice. “My sister, Trinity.”
Betram seemed to understand at once. “It was she you sought when your mishap with your own apprentice caused you to lay unconscious for more than two full days.”
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