by Kyra Dune
“A quick and bloody death then,” Richard smiled. “Not what I had in mind, but I suppose it will do.”
“Take the lustful look from your eyes,” Daniella said. “You are absolutely not going to kill our cousin. You must be well alibied when it happens.”
Richard flopped into the nearest chair. “Can you at least have it done messy and let the body be left where I can see it? Don’t rob me entirely.”
She sighed. “I suppose I could arrange something to your liking. But the question is, who will I find to do the deed? It must be someone I can trust to hold his tongue concerning our involvement even if he’s caught.”
“Someone you trust?” He snorted. “Is there such a person?”
“Mark.”
“The kennel keeper?” Richard made a face. It was beyond him why his sister should cast her eyes so low. “You giving him a tumble now and then doesn’t make him someone we can trust. I doubt anything you can do for him would be worth him keeping his mouth shut if he’s caught murdering a noble.”
A small smile touched her lips. “That’s a brother’s opinion.”
“A man who would follow a woman around like a dog on a lead is a fool,” he said. “What he can get from you can as easily be bought from a whore in any back alley brothel.”
Something darkened in Daniella’s eyes. “You are a pig, Richard. You have always been a pig. You want to blame someone for your past humiliation? Then blame yourself, not Charles. You wouldn’t have been so blindsided if you could have fathomed the idea he would come after you for daring to lay your hands on his sister.
“You understand nothing of the relationship between a man and woman save for the carnal and if you were anyone other than my brother I would not bother to spit on you if I happened upon you burning in the street.
“Unfortunately for me, you are my brother. My own burden to bear. And I will see you on the throne if you can only keep your piggish behavior behind closed doors during the duration of the High Priest’s stay here. No more throwing bloody girls, naked or otherwise, out of your room. And when you are not in your chambers you are to act as a man rather than a swine. Am I making myself perfectly clear?”
Richard gritted his teeth against the reply he would have liked to make. “Clear as glass.”
“Good,” she said. “Because we have more to lose than the crown.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Never mind.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Continue to do as I say and we will both have everything we want.”
As she walked to the door, Richard worked up the nerve to ask her something he had never dared ask before. “And what is it you want?”
Daniella paused, one hand on the door, and when she answered her words were so soft he wasn’t even certain he’d heard her right. “To live.” And then she was out the door and gone before he could say another word.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Moonlight graced Manny’s cheek like the hand of a lover. He drew in a deep, full breath of the crisp night air and sighed. It was so good to be home. If only they had returned for some better purpose.
He gazed up at the stars. Their light tonight was intense, speaking to the fire spirit’s continued unrest. When he’d first witnessed the portents pointing toward a coming storm one night from the roof of the Mercenary’s Guild, it had come to him at last he was to find the path leading to oneness with the air spirit. And when Nephima had woken from a troubled sleep to speak to them about the Cataclysm he believed the path was reveled.
But Jesse had not wanted to go with Nephima and Brandon on their great quest to save the world. Demons and gods and greatness were beyond him. All he understood was profit and enjoyment and he had seen neither in their enterprise. So he returned to Marigold and, as he had since they were boys, Manny followed.
Now here they were in Kartesk, set on desecrating the most holiest of temples. Jesse was not a religious man, but he was a respecter of others beliefs. Or at least he had always been before. It seemed enough wealth could corrupt even him.
And still Manny remained at his side. Not only because they were bound one to the other, but also because he loved Jesse too much to let him come on his own. The man could be so reckless, he needed Manny to keep him safe. Which was why he had come into this business of being a mercenary in the first place, when his nature should have shunned such a violent vocation.
Manny was born to be a priest. The air spirit had chosen him for it. But becoming bound to Jesse had removed him from his proper path and he feared he could never find his way back to it so long as his friend was alive.
A cloud moved across the moon. The air spirit working in conjunction with the fire spirit who governed the celestial bodies. Manny reached out a hand, wanting nothing more than to hear the sweet whisper of his kindred spirit. Only the silence of the night met his mute plea. He lowered his hand.
Though Manny’s people did not count the passing of time in years, still he knew he was of an age where the air spirit should have already communicated with him if she were ever going to. Few things in life were worth fearing in his mind, but to never attain oneness with his kindred spirit was among them.
Logic dictated he should take himself off this mad quest before it was too late. But logic took a backseat to the matters of the heart. Manny could still recall the first time Ash brought Jesse to the village.
Ash was a trader dealing in all matter of sundry goods and the only such allowed in Kartesk. This was due to his father, also a trader, who had long ago befriended a most revered priest of the Children and then married the man’s daughter, making himself and his son Ash as good as family in the eyes of Children.
During his father’s life, Ash had assisted him in his trader work and then took over when the man died. Thus he traveled away from the village more often than not, but always returned twice a year for a brief stay. One summer he brought with him a young boy. Not his son by blood, but by virtue of having married the boy’s mother, who had passed on in the winter.
Manny, being the revered priest’s grandson, had been raised to consider Ash family. So it was no stretch for him to include Jesse in such thinking. And so they became brother’s in heart. Indeed, Manny felt closer to Jesse than many of his blood kin. Despite the man’s faults, and of those he had many, he was at his core a good and decent person. Even if he didn’t always act like it.
The sound of light footsteps alerted Manny to Nika’s approach well before she sat down beside him. “I do not mean to interrupt your contemplations, nor force you to speak on an unpleasant subject, but Jesse has told me why you’ve come and asked me to lead the way.”
“Was he upset when you said no?”
She went so long without replying it drew Manny’s attention from the sky. “You said yes?”
Nika nodded, her expression pinched. “I love him too. Not as much as you, perhaps, but enough so I can refuse him nothing.”
“What has the earth spirit to say of this?”
Nika ran her fingers through the grass. “He is silent on the subject. Which is strange. But of late I have felt something in the trees and the ground. Something coming.”
“I know,” he said. “I too feel the spirit’s unease.”
Nika laid her hand on Manny’s shoulder. “Though the spirit does not speak to me on this matter, still I believe we are meant to walk this path. If not, the earth spirit would tell me. He would never allow me to lead Jesse to the temple if it was a sacrilege.”
“But why?” Manny asked. “Why would the spirits want us to do this thing?”
“I don’t know.” She squeezed his shoulder. “We must simply have faith. Perhaps this is your true path to lead you to the air spirit. She chose you for a reason and nothing you have done in this life has made you unworthy of her.”
Manny stared once again at the stars, wishing he could have such confidence in the future. “We know so little of the Omnidex. What purpose might it be used for in the wrong hands?”
<
br /> “It came to us from the spirits,” Nika said. “Thus it can be nothing of evil intent.”
Once again, she seemed so certain and yet he had a doubt. And perhaps this was why the air spirit remained elusive. These rare but pervasive doubts he’d picked up in his journeys beyond Kartesk.
“We will leave at first light.” Nika rose to her feet, only to pause. “Tell me something. What do you think of Ethan?”
“Very little, in all truth.” He met her gaze. “Why?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. Something about him is... strange to me. I find I cannot read his heart. He bears watching, I think.”
This was, at last, a sentiment they both could share.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Mark lay on his back in the bed with Daniella’s head a pleasant weight on his shoulder. Silver moonlight fell through the partially opened curtains to trace the outline of her face. He brushed his fingers across her fair skin with a gentleness she would not have tolerated were she awake.
In sleep she was softer, warmer. Mark could imagine lying every night with her this way. The thought brought a bittersweet smile to his lips, for he knew it could never be. He brushed his lips across the top of her head. And then he spoke the words he would never dare speak where she could hear. “I love you, Dani.”
Much as Mark hated to leave the bed, it always irritated Daniella to wake lying next to him, so he slipped away from her. She would want to wake early and get back to her chambers before the dawn, especially with the High Priest here, but he thought he could let her sleep a while longer. He was surprised she’d even shown up on his doorstep tonight. It made him wonder if perhaps she wanted something from him. Something she thought would be more easily spoken of after a tumble between the sheets.
After settling down in a chair in the corner, Mark contented himself to watching Daniella sleep. He’d never known it was possible to feel so much for another person. Trust his fool heart to go and fall this hard for a woman who could never be completely his.
It wasn’t long before she stirred and woke, yawning as she glanced at him in the corner. “How long were you going to let me sleep?”
“A little longer. It’s still hours until dawn.”
She pressed her face into the pillow, her shoulders rising and falling with a sigh. Then she sat up holding the sheets to cover her chest. “We need to talk about why I came here tonight.”
He grinned rakishly even as his guts clenched in preparation for whatever she was about to say. “I think we worked that out fine without need of words.”
Daniella rolled her eyes. “Honestly Mark, can’t you be serious for five minutes?”
“I can try.” He made an expression of mock seriousness. “You have my every attention, your Highness.” This was most certainly true. Nothing in the world was more important at that moment than having her there in his bed in the moonlight with her hair falling across her bare shoulders. One of many images he would store away in his mind to comfort, or perhaps torture, himself after their inevitable parting.
“I didn’t risk the High Priest finding out about us merely for the sake of play,” she said with a touch of irritation. “I came here to find out whether or not you are a man of your word.”
“What word is that?” It was so hard to concentrate on what she was saying when all he could think about was the glory hidden behind the thin sheet.
“The one you gave to me when we last spoke.”
A cold feeling swept through Mark. He knew exactly what she was referring to, but chose to keep up the facade in the weak hope of dissuading her. “You mean about me fathering the next king of Hyacinth? The offer certainly still stands.”
“No,” Daniella huffed. “About Charles. You can’t be so ignorant as to not know he’s here with my father’s pet knight.”
“I had heard something of that, yes. But I didn’t think much of it.” On the contrary, Charles being at the castle had been a heavy weight on his chest ever since he first learned of it.
“Well you’d better start thinking something of it,” she snapped. “Surely you can guess at why he’s here.”
“He means to make a bid for the throne.”
“Exactly. And with both the Duke and my stepmother siding with him he could very well win. That would be a disaster.” She gave him a pointed look. “Something must be done about it.”
Mark knew what was coming and would have given anything to avoid it. “Are you suggesting I should do something about it?”
“Perhaps.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Tell me, how far are you willing to go for me.”
“To the ends of eternity and beyond,” he said without a moment’s hesitation.
“Stop with the nonsense, already. This is serious.”
If only she knew how serious he was. “You are the princess and I nothing but a lowly servant. Thus I am yours to command, as always.”
“Then let us get straight to the matter,” she said. “I want you to murder my cousin in the bloodiest manner you can devise and leave his body in the central courtyard for the birds to have at.”
It was as he had expected, but to hear her state it so plainly took his breath away. Ever since first coming to the castle to work in the kennels, Mark had held the truth of his past close to the vest. A certain kind of mannerisms and a few well chosen hints dropped about and he had managed to convince everyone he was a rogue come to the castle to hide himself from those who would have his head. It wasn’t long before he had everyone believing him to be a dangerous, stone cold killer.
It was Mark’s attempt at reinventing himself, for in truth his past held neither mystery nor excitement. He’d never killed a man or even been in any kind of a real fight. He was no rogue, no bandit, no assassin, only a farmer’s son with a good eye for dogs and a desire to better his circumstances. But he’d never expected to make actual acquaintance with the king, or to be promoted to kennel master. And never in his wildest dreams had he imagined his faux persona would draw the attention of the princess.
Mark was in over his head here and he knew it. But then he had been in over his head ever since the first moment Daniella cast her gaze his way. He’d dared to touch the fire and somewhere deep inside he’d always known it was bound to burn eventually.
“I’ll take care of it.” He spoke the words with a nonchalance he most certainly did not feel. “When?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” Daniella twisted the sheet around her fingers. “I expect at some point today he will make his case before the High Priest. Let him. I would hear how that must play out before anything else is done. You keep an ear to what’s happening. I know you get all the servant’s gossip. If it sounds as though the High Priest might truly be considering him as king over my brother, then you strike. But I warn you, if you are caught and breathe a word of my involvement in this I will have you on your knees begging me for death.”
It wounded him knowing she had no idea how he would cut out his own tongue before speaking a word against her. But he didn’t show his hurt. He only laughed, as if her words amused him. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He smiled in the way he knew she liked. “You know, killing a nobleman right under the noses of the castle guards will be no easy feat. How can I expect to be paid for this bloody deed?”
Daniella let the sheet slide slowly away from her body as she rose from the bed. She strolled toward him, moonlight highlighting her naked form in all the right places. “What do you expect to be proper payment?”
“The castle coffers are filled to the brim with King’s marks, gold, and jewels,” he said, doing his best to hide the sudden hitch in his throat. “For the murder of Lord Charles I would expect to have my pick.”
“Really?” Daniella leaned towards him with her hands braced on the chair arms. “You don’t consider yourself well paid in advance?”
Mark’s heart picked up its beat, flooding his body with warmth. “How do you figure?”
“You already possess the greates
t jewel the castle has to offer.” She slid forward into the chair until her hips were straddling his waist. “Me.”
“My, my.” Mark twined his fingers into her hair. “You are an arrogant one, aren’t you?”
“A privilege reserved for those of us born with noble blood. Something you couldn’t understand, I’m sure.”
“You are quite right, princess.” Mark pulled her closer. “Nothing noble about me at all.” He captured her lips with his own, slipping his tongue across hers and shivering as she moaned against him.
A mortal woman she might be, but no doubt Daniella was Mark’s goddess and if worshiping her required laying a little blood at her altar then so be it.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Dim light flickered across the cavern walls. Shirelyn lay with her cheek pressed to the cold stone floor. Weariness had overtaken her before she could reach her room and so she lay there, waiting for her strength to return. She felt hollowed out inside, a sure sign she was pushing herself too far and it was a terrible danger. Especially now, with the Cataclysm so near to hand.
It wasn’t easy to plot and scheme from her prison. It took great effort and great power to reach beyond the barriers of this realm, though it was considerably easier than it once was, thanks to the failing of the wards holding her there.
Still, she needed her strength for the moment when she would once more face her brothers. They had expended far more energy than she had and for much longer, trifling with turning themselves into gods to be worshiped by those of the lesser realm. A foolish waste of power. She might have expected as much from Ishkael, he had ever been the impetuous and reckless sort, but Mishkael should have known better.