Hers to Claim (Verdantia Book 4)

by Patricia A. Knight

  “What is it you think you see on my face?”

  “Incredulity. Disbelief.”

  “No, Beauty. See admiration, amazement. See hope. Explain to me what you experience on the aetheric plane…” Hel glanced upward and frowned. “Night is hard upon us. I must get you back to the castle and safety. The situation within Nyth Uchel is deteriorating. Lacking the diaman perimeter Ramsey went to set, we’ve had reports of mutant beasts and soul-wraiths threatening our western approach. The gatekeepers tell me ghouls swarm the eastern bridge. They’ve yet to penetrate the city proper, but I cannot risk you.” Hel traced a finger down Nia’s face and pulled her mynx coat tighter around her. “Have you eaten since rising?”

  Amusement lightened her dear face for a moment. “I think so. It is hard to remember…”

  “Yes,” he snorted. “Nothing to distinguish one meal of stringy meat from another. Cook does her best, but she has little to work with.”

  He clasped her hand in his and they walked toward the main entry of the castle. Shadows fell across their path and the glimmer of stars began to dot the black heavens. They were about to leave a narrow alley, only a few short steps from where it opened onto the main thoroughfare, when Hel noticed a moldering, stale odor and looked intently into the darkness ahead of them. The blackness undulated.

  Nia slowed. “What is that stench? It smells of a charnel house.”

  He dropped her hand—instead filling his with the hilt of his sword and withdrawing the blade with a slow hiss of steel against hardened leather.

  It rose out of the blackness with no warning, a hideous mishmash of gelatinous ooze and human parts, blocking the narrow alley. One side of its head dripped ooze while the other had two ears and a lipless mouth pasted below a single eye. A black void filled the space where a nose should have been. A foul miasma emanated from it, and its numerous lower limbs bent at unnatural angles. One side of its form had one arm, while the other carried two. It was a wholly unnatural construct—part human and part…other.

  The aberration lurched toward them with an ominous hiss.

  “Run, Nia. Back the way we came.”

  As they turned to flee, more dark shapes obliterated the light entering the alley from the other end. The undead mutations listed in inexorable pursuit trapping them in the narrow alleyway.

  With a vivid curse, Hel heaved his weight against a door fronting the alley.

  The ghouls closed remorselessly on them, low moans and hisses echoing in the dark.

  “Nia, help me. Put your shoulder to this door!” Both of them slammed against the wooden door. With a splintering crack, it spilled them inward.

  Hel slammed the door behind them and leaned his full weight against it. Complete darkness enveloped them.

  “Can you see anything?” Nia’s voice came from no more than an arm’s length away, yet Hel couldn’t make out a thing.

  “Give me a minute to adjust to the darkness, and then we must barricade this door and find the front entrance.”

  At that moment, a heavy jolt against the door almost moved Hel from his stance. “Damnation! Another heavy slam rattled the door on its hinges, and Hel cursed again. “We must find something to brace this door. Nia, help me.” Another slam shoved both of them forward, and they groaned with the strain it took to close the door the few inches that the ghouls had opened it.

  “Won’t we be missed? Surely someone will note our absence and look for us,” Nia panted.

  “Probably…but I fear not soon enough to preserve our skins.”

  Hel peered intently into the gloom of the building. He could discern the shapes of worktables and multiple stoves. Now, he knew where they were—the kitchen of The Half-Witted Sister across from the entrance to the castle. “This is a grill house, Nia. One that used natural gas for fuel, not diaman crystals. I want to let the ghouls in and light the gas.”

  He could feel Nia’s nod. “And where will we be?”

  “Running like the seven hells, straight through that doorway.” He pointed. “There is a small dining room on the other side with a large display window. Be prepared to dive through the window. Tuck and roll and come up running for the castle entrance.”

  “How do we ignite the gas?”

  The door suddenly jolted and their feet slipped against the hard floor as they again fought to keep the door closed. The moans and hisses on the opposite side became more agitated.

  Hel thought for a moment. “The kitchen grills have spark igniters for their burners. We’ll turn on the gas to all the grills, allow the gas a moment to accumulate in the air, then hit the igniter spark on our way out and just hope the explosion takes out the ghouls.”

  “We can’t stay here much longer, that’s a certainty,” Nia stated. Hel could hear the physical strain in her voice as she leaned into the door.

  “Yes. Quickly, Nia, the stoves. Turn the surface units on full. The far left knob on each grill is the spark igniter. I’ll flip one as we leave.”

  “And hope we don’t blow ourselves up as well as the ghouls,” Nia muttered as she hustled to do as he’d ordered.

  “Yes…there’s that. I’ll try not to blow us up.”

  Nia moved hastily from stove to stove in the gloomy kitchen, peering at the controls from inches away. “Okay…I think all the burners are on high.”

  “Ready? Here we go.” Hel leaped away from the alleyway door. As soon as his weight no longer restrained the door, it smashed open to admit one of the lurching monstrosities. As the creature fell through the door, Hel paused at the stove and flipped the igniters, then careened through the open doorway into the dining room, propelling Nia in front of him.

  A thunderous detonation obscured his scream of, “Jump!” Hel felt his feet leave the floor. The force of the explosion thrust both him and Nia through the large front windows of the eatery, flinging them into the middle of the street beyond. Ears ringing, head whirling from the explosion, shards of glass raining from his body, Hel crawled crabwise toward Nia, cast into the street like a rag doll. She stirred.

  “Up. Get up.” His hand closed around her wrist, and he half-dragged, half-carried her in a stumbling run toward the castle.

  They had gone only a little way before a welcome sight met his eyes. A dozen diaman lanterns carried by townspeople spread out in a phalanx and progressed down the street. Their escort to safety had arrived.

  Hel wrapped Nia in his arms and held her tightly. “Are you in one piece?”

  She straightened but clung to him. “Yes. I’ll have bruises on my bruises, but I’m whole.”

  “By Her ruby red tits, Nia! This must stop.”

  ~~~

  “Goodman was your saboteur.”

  Hel watched Ramsey sheath a stiletto he’d been cleaning and throw the bloody cloth onto a dining room table that still bore the remnants of a meal. Ramsey slouched negligently in an armchair pushed away from the table. Steffania reclined on a chaise nearby, all but her head obscured by plush pillows, blankets and Ramsey’s cloak. She smiled brilliantly at Nia as Hel ushered her into the family dining room.

  “Did you discover the extent of his tampering?”

  DeKieran pulled a small blade from his belt and began to clean beneath his nails. “Goodman repeatedly broke apart and scattered the cache-stones on the western border. He contaminated the graves on the eastern side with polluted soil and threw hundreds of energized diaman stones into the river.” Ram raised eyes of cold dispassion. “Damnation, man, what happened to the two of you?”

  Hel jerked his head sharply. “Later.”

  Ramsey shrewdly eyed him then shrugged. “Goodman was too smug, DeHelios. He gloated about some mischief as yet uncovered, but deteriorated into mindless drivel before I could get details out of him.” Ramsey returned his small blade to his belt. “Be on your guard.”

  Hel stood rigidly and fought to master his rage. He suspected he and Nia had already encountered some of Goodman’s mischief. “Where is Mister Goodman?”

  Ramsey sat
forward and met Hel’s glare but responded with the same lack of inflection with which he had enumerated Goodman’s crimes. “I’m not certain. He met with an unfortunate accident—a fall from a watchtower. His body broke on the boulders at the base of the wall and the river washed his remains away.” The first hint of emotion entered DeKieran’s uncanny eyes. “But he suffered before his…mishap.”

  Hel’s face twisted with fierce satisfaction. “Thank you.”

  DeKieran cocked his head with an almost imperceptible nod and studied Nia. “I’m glad to see you more or less in one piece, Lady DeCorvus. I would have killed DeHelios personally had his negligence resulted in your—”

  “I suffered no permanent hurt, Lord Ramsey. Thank you,” Nia interjected, glancing at Hel.

  By Her light, the rogue knew how to taunt him. Hel owed Ramsey, but right now, he’d gladly take his fists to the man. Only Nia’s pleading gaze held him immobile.

  “Adonia, thank you. A thousand times, thank you,” Steffania declared, also stepping into the breach. “This one won’t say…” she nodded at Ramsey…“but I’m certain I owe the two of you my life.”

  Nia shrugged modestly. “The important thing is that you’re recovering. How do you feel? Are you sure you should be out of bed so soon?”

  Steffania groaned. “Not you, too. I just fought that battle with Ramsey. I feel fine.” She glared at Ram who studiously ignored her. “You didn’t need to carry me. I was perfectly capable of walking!” Her gaze returned to Adonia. “One more moment lying in bed and I would’ve gone crazy.” Her eyes laughed at the wealth of cushions and blankets piled on, over and around her. “And as you can see, no pillow or blanket has been spared to ensure my comfort.”

  Hel pulled out a chair and seated Nia when servants entered with hot food. “You will eat,” he said pointedly. He watched Nia until she raised a fork to her mouth and began to chew.

  A commotion in the hallway drew his attention and a townsman burst through the door.

  “My lord! Soul-wraiths! Soul-wraiths and ghouls swarm the eastern entrance to the castle. The men you set at the doors are barely holding them at bay. We need more diaman crystals and every available sword.”

  The undead already prowled the streets—and now soul-wraiths. If a horde of wraiths attacked the castle, they were also elsewhere in the city. The news was devastating. There was no possible way Nyth Uchel’s occupants could repel a swarm of ghouls and soul-wraiths for the long hours of every night for months to come.

  Only one hope for salvation occurred to him. His mind stuttered in horror. He wouldn’t ask it of any unschooled woman, let alone the woman he loved beyond reason. With almost crippling despair, he realized he’d little choice. He must attempt the Great Rite with Nia.

  Hel barked orders to the stunned servants attending them in the dining room. “Unlock the armaments room. Distribute weapons to every able-bodied person in this castle, women and children included. Send them to the western doorway. One of you get to the storeroom and bring all the lanterns and diaman crystals available. Now! Be quick about it.” Hel turned. “Ramsey, meet me at the west castle entrance. We must ensure everyone is suitably armed with a weapon and a quantity of diaman crystals. We are abandoning the castle.”

  Ram glanced at his wife, who was flinging pillows and wraps to the floor in a flurry of urgency. “Change to your battle leathers and arm yourself, Steffania. We need to assist DeHelios in getting to the white tower and then buy him as much time as we can.”

  Goddess bless the man, DeKieran had guessed what Hel proposed to do.

  “What does he mean, Hel?” Nia stammered. “Buy you time for what?”

  Hel could have screamed to the heavens at the anguish that ravaged him, knowing what he was about to demand of her. She needed more time. She needed more training. She wasn’t ready. The bitter realization that he could very well lose her to madness cut bone deep. But it was Nyth Uchel’s only chance—it was Nia’s only chance—of remaining alive. “We are going to the white tower and perform the Great Rite. Ramsey, Steffania and as many others as possible will hold the ghouls and wraiths at bay, away from the Chambre Cristalle. Nia … please don’t look at me like that. The monsters are only active during the hours of darkness. The odds are not in our favor, but this is the only way we have a fighting chance. Beauty…it is our only chance.”

  She shook visibly. Bruises from Goodman’s attack and their encounter with the ghouls colored her body in hues of purple-black and exhaustion was apparent in her stance. “We are to work the Great Rite? Now?”

  Hel could read the terror in Nia’s eyes. A twin to it dwelt in his heart when he considered the real possibility he might gain Nyth Uchel yet lose Nia. With her loss would die any hope for Verdantia, but that scarcely mattered to him. If she was gone, he wouldn’t care to live. With gut-churning desolation, he silently repeated his nursery prayer. Great Mother, as you love me, protect her. “We cannot wait if we are to save our people. We must act now.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Adonia considered their flight through the dark to Torre Bianca, surrounded by armed townsmen holding aloft diaman-lit lanterns, as the stuff of pure terror. Shrill screams echoed through the city streets—cries of townsfolk dying hideous deaths—the folk of Nyth Uchel who’d fallen to the invading nightmares. Every step she took brought her closer to her ultimate dread, the Great Rite. It was yet another terrifying step into a mystical unknown—a step for which she was grossly unprepared—and failure would exact a horrifying cost.

  She and Hel had ascended to the Chambre Cristalle, all the while hearing the shouts of Ramsey ordering the perimeter placement to defend the entrance to the tower. Her heart wept at the thought of those close to her who might die to give them this chance. In addition to Ramsey and Steffania, Maddie and Sara, and others from the castle who had become a part of her, guarded the defensive perimeter.

  When they entered the chamber, Hel had cupped her face, his own a study in pain. “I can’t do this. For the first time, I believe She asks more of me than I am willing to give. I think I would rather die than extinguish your bright light with madness. You are too dear to me. Say the word and we will look for another way.”

  Adonia could not have wished for a more profound statement of what she meant to him. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to be the person he thought she was. “If we perform the Great Rite successfully, then all in Nyth Uchel might live. Yes?”

  Hel nodded slowly. “It is my hope, my belief, the rite will cleanse the city of all pestilence.”

  “Then I am asking you to perform the Great Rite with me. This is my choice, my decision. I understand the risk. I wish to take it.”

  His great hand cupped the back of her head, and he lowered his forehead to hers. Hel rested there for a long moment, eyes closed. “Dearest Beauty, never again tell me you’re not brave.”

  Hel crossed to a low sideboard and removed a stopper from a cut crystal decanter. He poured a liquid into two massive goblets of crystal banded with bejeweled precious metal.

  “This is cinnagin-spiced wine.” He held one goblet at eye-level and studied it. “Cinnagin, both our greatest curse and most profound blessing. This aphrodisiac brought the scourge of the Haarb upon our heads, and yet, it provides our sole wealth in interstellar trade. The pinch of cinnagin in this goblet would purchase a hyper-light star cruiser.” He swallowed the contents of one goblet in several long pulls and handed her the other—but stopped Adonia as she raised the cup to her lips without hesitation.

  “Wait. Before you take this irreversible step, there are things I must tell you about cinnagin. The dried concentrate of this aphrodisiac enables and enhances an intense electro-chemical bond with diaman crystal. This creates a neural-chemical reaction that hyper-excites your nervous system. Your craving for orgasm will push you to the threshold of insanity…and Nia, the sensations will deluge you brutally and without surcease. Do not come—no matter if you think you will die—do not come, not until I comman
d it. That way lies certain madness.”

  Adonia remembered the soul-stripping cries of the insane magistra in Sylvan Mintoth. She lowered the cup, placing it carefully next to the empty one. “We must use cinnagin?”

  He stepped up to hold her in an all-enveloping hug. She felt the heat and solidity of his great body through her robe. She felt the deep vibration of his voice as he spoke. Somehow, it was impossible to continue to doubt with this man supporting her. “When I allow our mutual climax, a bond is formed with Mother Verdantia that allows me to amplify and focus all our combined arousal into the dais. The diamantorre absorbs the shockwave of our orgasms and converts it to greater magnitudes of energy. Somehow, during this moment, our Great Mother adds Her own inherent energies. Torre Bianca will blaze with the clearest of white lights, the arcobaleno. I pray that pure light will purify Nyth Uchel of the ghouls and wraiths that afflict us. Do not be surprised if you visit the aetheric plane for a time. Some women speak of interacting with Her during the aftermath, though it is uncommon.”

  She sighed deeply and pushed away, offering him a wobbly smile. “I trust you. So…I drink this and then what happens?”

  The familiar wicked glint appeared in his eyes. “Within a short time, you will beg me to fuck you, and I will be exerting all my self-discipline not to grant your pleas.” He grimaced. “Cinnagin has a side-effect. For a period following the Great Rite, you will need the presence of my semen inside you to orgasm.” Hel traced a finger down her cheek. “We cannot make love until the cinnagin passes from your system or that dependency becomes life-long. You may have a few uneasy days. I want you to understand why I will not touch you afterward. I made a mistake with my wife and gave in to her pleading with bitter consequences. She despised her dependency—and me.”