Son of Ereubus

by J. S. Chancellor

  “Where are we going?” She played with the ties from her cloak, swinging them back and forth.

  “Well, I assume your brother has already shown you the center courts and I heard a rumor that you’ve already found your way through the courtyards, so I thought I might show you something a little more unique to Adoria. Consider it a surprise.”

  Ariana smirked. “What if I don’t like surprises?”

  Jareth laughed. “You don’t exactly have much of a choice, unless of course you’ve been here before. Don’t worry. I won’t take you anywhere Michael wouldn’t.”

  “Is it true that he wasn’t always this way?” she asked.

  He tilted his head. “What way?”

  “Was he always this serious? So burdened?”

  “No. He was never this serious, not until Gabriel died. Genny grew ill shortly after and then with his newfound responsibility, he had no choice but to put his childish ways behind him. Don’t misunderstand me, he was always wise, and he’s always had a sense of prudence about him. There wasn’t any question as to who was to take Kael’s place. That’s who held Michael’s seat prior to — ”

  “I’m not that dull, Jareth. What other place could you have been referring to?”

  He bit back a grin and gave her a terse nod. “Are all the women in Middengard as sarcastic as you are?”

  She appeared, falsely, to think this over before responding with, “Well, don’t tell anyone. It’d be positively dreadful for that to get around.”

  “I’m sure it would be.” He smirked. “Dreadful indeed.”

  As they reached the end of the hallway, he led her to a large wooden door, cool to the touch. He reached out and thrust his weight against it. The door slowly budged and a cold draft blew past them. Ariana pulled her cloak tighter around her.

  “So this is it? I survive Ereubinian siege, wander in the Netherwoods, cold and hungry, recover from being shot by my own brother, and this is how I meet my end — by walking willingly into some dank dungeon under innocent pretenses.”

  Jareth laughed louder than he expected to. Whether she had grown up around Michael or not, there was definitely a trace of his former wit in her. Suddenly it dawned on him what she’d actually said.

  “Wait — did you say he shot you?” A wide grin spread across his face. Ariana looked horror-stricken. Perhaps she hadn’t intended to reveal it.

  “I didn’t mean to say that.”

  “Too late now! My lips are sealed, but you have to tell me the rest or I’ll herald it from the rooftops.” How could Michael, most arrogant of all archers, have possibly aimed so poorly?

  “He was trying to shoot Koen. I suppose he thought him to be a wolf. It really wasn’t his fault. Please promise me you won’t mention it. He’s moody enough as it is.”

  This was royal, such a shame that he had to relish in it alone. It would be much more enjoyable in Michael’s presence. As Michael was teaching Jareth how to wield a bow, he’d put up with a tremendous amount of criticism. Among many of Michael’s more reasonable sayings was, “Aim so you may never be unsure of your intended target. Only the weak miss their objective.”

  “I’ll do my very best to never utter even a hint of your indiscretion.”

  She shot him a wayward look. “You sound so convincing.”

  Jareth motioned for her to enter before him, a gesture that she didn’t seem to care for.

  “If you’re planning on locking me in there, you’ll have to be more creative than that.”

  “If it were my plan to hoard you away for malevolent purposes, you’d have little choice. I simply don’t want to obstruct your view by entering before you.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Little choice? I wouldn’t be so sure of that. I’m smarter than I … my view?”

  “There’s a rail you’ll need to hold onto.” He placed his hand on the small of her back and eased her closer to the doorway. She grabbed the banister, and after a moment’s hesitation, they both descended into the darkness.

  Gradually, closer to the bottom of the stairs, a light began to swell in the room. He reached a hand over her shoulder, pointing toward the corners of the cavern. “It comes from the rocks.”

  She ducked her head as they came to the bottom and crossed under a low overhang. Coming out onto the other side, she gasped. Lights of all colors — pinks, blues, yellows, lavenders, greens, every color imaginable — filled the once-dark cave, growing dim the farther they walked, new ones sparking to life ahead.

  “I doubt anything like this exists in Middengard,” Jareth remarked.

  She just shook her head.

  “They are much like butterfly wings” Jareth said. “Too delicate to touch.” He picked one up, watching for her dismay as it grew dim.

  “What causes the rocks to light up?”

  “We aren’t really sure. There is a legend of beings who once lived in these caverns, long before Adorians existed. They were supposedly immortal and eventually transformed into insentient stone, having grown tired of this world.”

  She held out her hand and Jareth almost thought to take it when it dawned on him that she was asking for the rock. He tossed it into the air and snatched it back before she could catch it.

  “And do you believe such fairy tales?” she asked, her eyes trained on the stone.

  “I don’t know. I did as a child. We used to sneak in here and steal them, but you see what happens when they’re touched. It took quite a few tries to convince us that we hadn’t simply chosen idle stones.”

  He tossed the stone again, this time letting her catch it. “Didn’t you …” His voice trailed off as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing. He blinked, then looked again and sure enough, the stone had come to life in her hands.

  “Maybe you just aren’t any good at this?” she laughed, unimpressed by the feat. “Do all of the caves look like this one? What’s beyond here?” Ariana leaned against one of the walls, then jumped back upon discovering it was damp.

  Jareth wasn’t sure he could find his tongue to answer her. “They’re extensive. The largest area, where I played most as a child, isn’t far from here.”

  She pitched the stone back and forth from one hand in the other, like it was a child’s tetherball. “Well, unless you have somewhere better to go, perhaps you should show me.”

  He shrugged, figuring that at the very least he could find out more about her and how in Hothrendaire she was doing what she was doing.

  They continued deeper into the caves, the air growing heavier as they went. It smelled good to him, reminded him of more blessed times. They walked for a few minutes until they came through a tunnel into a huge cavern. It was about sixty feet high and nearly twice as wide. He’d expected Ariana to be stunned, so her reaction surprised him. She walked out toward the middle of the cave, and turned to face him.

  “I’ve seen this place before.” She looked down, trying to pull something from memory. “In a dream maybe, I don’t know. It seems I say those words quite often these days.”

  A dream? Jareth wasn’t so convinced, especially after hearing about the Moriors injuring her while she slept. He’d forgotten about it until just now.

  “Is your back alright? I shouldn’t have asked you to walk so far.”

  “They’re nothing more than scratches.” She looked uncomfortable and he regretted bringing it up. Why did he always speak first and think things through later? It was moments like this that he envied Michael’s restraint.

  He tried to change the subject. “So what did you see in your dream — about this place?”

  “A room that looked like this one, huge white stones encircled it, between ten and twenty of them.”

  Jareth’s eyes grew wide as she spoke. He couldn’t believe what was coming out of her mouth.

  “There was a large stone in the center. Really, it was just a dream.”

  “Did you see anything else?” he asked, trying to hide the astonishment in his voice.

  “No. That was it — all I
can remember anyway. Why do you ask it like that?”

  “There were stones where we now stand, fourteen pillar stones that were arranged in a circle, and one center stone. They were removed many years ago, long before even our great grandfathers were alive. My father once told me they were found sometime after the doorways between the realms were opened.”

  “Where are they now?” she asked as if she were afraid to hear the answer.

  “Mounted along the borders of Adoria. You passed one of them as you entered, though it was probably covered in snow. The center stone sits in the heart of the elder’s assembly.” He shook his head in amazement. “You baffle me — such a mystery.”

  She shrugged, but there was a smile tugging at the edges of her mouth. “Sorry to disenchant.”

  She’d done anything but disenchant him. He’d only known her a few brief hours, but already she intrigued him. She was nothing like an Adorian woman, bold and outspoken — everything he would’ve imagined in a female sibling of Michael’s. And of course there was always her apparent persuasion over his childhood fascination. As he started to respond, a strong male voice sounded from behind him.

  “I thought I might find you here.” Jareth didn’t get a chance to tell Michael that Ariana was with him. “My disagreement with your father has nothing to do with you. Though I’m honored by your loyalty, please be more prudent in the future with how you show it. Before long, a dissolving of the separation will become warranted.”

  “What separation?”

  Jareth cringed as he heard Ariana speak.

  Michael raised an eyebrow at Jareth as Ariana stepped into view. “A new order will be put into place, initiating a severance from Middengard. It will be decreed at daybreak.”

  A horrified look crossed her face. “Michael, there are humans still alive. I was under the impression Adoria held some oath of loyalty to Middengard’s people. Surely you’re not going to just surrender?”

  Michael’s face faltered, though it was so subtle a shift that Jareth doubted anyone else would’ve notice it. He felt as his sister did, but would never have been so candid if he’d known Ariana was there.

  “You must trust us to govern these matters. We will do all that we are able.” Ariana started to respond when Michael threw his hand in the air. “Enough. These matters don’t concern you.”

  Jareth was surprised to hear Michael sound so harsh. However, Jareth had never seen his father overrule anything that Michael felt was provident. This of all council meetings would have left him sore.

  Ariana appeared hurt and more than a tad outraged at his abrupt dismissal. She tossed the stone back to Jareth. “Thank you for walking with me, it was lovely.”

  Michael started to put his arm out to stop her as she breezed past him, but didn’t follow through.

  “I’ll send Cryx, I assume he can find his way home,” she shouted.

  “He’ll be fine.” Jareth heard her footsteps grow faint as she made her way closer to the castle.

  “That went well,” Michael said, rubbing his forehead with his hand.

  Jareth started toward him. “She reminds me in some ways of Genny.”

  Michael laughed. “You must be thinking of someone else. Genevieve never questioned a single word I said. She was the most cordial creature alive. Ariana manages nothing but resistance. Father must’ve had a time with her.”

  “She reminds me of Genny in her apparent ability to test you. She may not have verbally challenged you, but she certainly did me. She constantly bit at my ankles. This is what having a sister entails. You aren’t always the hero — in fact you’re more often than not the villain. I saw that look in your eyes when you realized she was here with me. My intentions couldn’t be nobler, yet still you questioned them.”

  Michael grinned, tilting his head to the side. “I questioned who, knowing whose sister she is, would lure her into the caverns in the dark of night? You’re fortunate that I don’t doubt the integrity of your intentions, whatever they may be.”

  Jareth heard the words escape his lips too hurriedly to stop them. “True. Knowing whose sister she is, I could’ve had such foul intent as to use her for target practice. What was it someone wise once said to me? Ah, aim so that you may never be unsure of your intended target.” Tears came to his eyes, he was laughing so hard and it became apparent that he couldn’t have contained himself, no matter how ill a response he received from his friend.

  Michael glowered at him.

  “I’m sorry. I even promised her I wouldn’t.” He said it between breaths, his chest still heaving.

  “Funny.” Michael said.

  “Yes, yes it is.” Jareth was just beyond Michael in the caverns when Michael reached back and took him by the arm.

  “Tell me my eyes were playing tricks on me.”

  Jareth backed up till he could see Michael face to face. “You realized what she was holding? You were asking about the reasoning behind your father’s secrecy? I think we’ve found — ”

  Michael, who’d been holding his breath, exhaled. “What we’ve found, I suspect, is barely the beginning of it.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  A VIRGIN MANNER OF

  DECEPTION

  I

  t was a special observance. Four humans stood at the front of the sanctuary. Garren, flanked by Aiden and several others, stood behind the pulpit. They were clothed in black, save the thick red cloaks that hung at their shoulders. Tadraem led the evening prayer and then summoned the Ereubinians who were to participate in the ceremony. Garren walked out with Aiden, the other two Ereubinians following on the opposite side. They faced Tadraem from behind the Breeders.

  A young Ereubinian boy, carrying an armful of white robes, walked up to Garren and handed him one. He did the same with the remaining three. Tadraem walked around to Aiden, after instructing the humans to turn around, and began to dedicate a human to him.

  This had always been a curious ceremony to Garren. It was a high honor. He could feel the excitement swell in his chest. He watched as Tadraem took a small blade, the same one that was traditionally used in sacrifices, and held it to the girl’s throat. He let it hover there for a moment, then gently sliced the skin, just enough for a drop of blood to form on the surface of her flesh. This was to signify that she had been saved for the noble purpose of continuing the lineage.

  Garren was happy with his choice of a vessel for Aiden. While he didn’t owe Aiden an apology, he didn’t carry any malice toward him, either. He’d aided Garren in his victory and deserved rewards. The vessel he’d chose was one of the more attractive girls he’d seen recently. She was tall, with long blonde hair and tan skin. He’d been told that her name was Sara.

  As Tadraem repeated the tradition with each couple, he robed the human in white, signifying the Ereubinian’s ownership of the breeder. He finally came to Garren and Cadence. He did something that surprised Garren. Instead of dedicating her himself, as he’d done with all the others, he held the blade out for Garren to take.

  “My Lord, I believe it is fitting for you to make this dedication, as it is your will that now determines her life and death.” Tadraem pushed the blade closer toward him. Garren slowly reached out, taking it in his hands. It seemed an unusual thing for Tadraem to have done, but having never been through the ceremony himself he couldn’t readily correlate the High Priest’s actions with malevolence. He turned his attention back toward Cadence. Her eyes were deep, colorless wells. They reminded him a bit of the Laionai, and it made him wonder if the Laionai had souls. Or if they, too, were simply slaves to another’s will. As the thoughts passed through his mind, Garren shuddered. Sacrilege. How could he even conceive such things in a house of worship?

  He took the knife and placed it across the smooth skin of her neck. He could see a reflection of the candles burning. He began to recite the prayer of dedication.

  “Mani suche dost nousmaede ...” As the words sounded in the air, he kept his focus on the tip of the knife, fearful of bearing
down too deep and ending her. He watched the flickering of the tiny orange and red flames dancing in the distance.

  “Lio treksthis mordoutai ...” his hand began to shake. He couldn’t take his eyes away, nor could he finish his sentence. A clear image of the Adorian girl shone where Cadence’s reflection should have been. There was no missing the fire in her hair or the ice in her blue eyes. He breathed slowly and steadily, reigning in his alarm. This was not the place to be haunted by such apparitions.

  He continued speaking aloud the prayer, careful to make it appear as though he’d merely been reverent in his sudden silence. He finished pulling the knife across her neck, and held it down at his side. Tadraem took the cloak from his hands and placed it around Cadence’s shoulders, pulling the hood over her head, as he’d done with the others. Garren barely listened as Tadraem ended the ceremony. The congregation then knelt, reciting prayers of thanksgiving to Ciara.

  Garren stayed still as the others exited the sanctuary. The ceremony had taken a little over an hour, but it felt like mere minutes to him. After everyone had left the sanctuary, Tadraem came to Garren, who was still standing silently in front of Cadence. “My Lord, are you ill? Shall I call for someone?”

  Garren shook his head, his heart pounding in his chest. He hoped his words would not reveal how out of breath he was.

  “I’m simply overwhelmed with anticipation — honored to receive such a blessing.” Tadraem didn’t show any doubt in his expression, but instead smiled and gestured for Garren to leave with his new bride. Garren started to move, but felt his knees go weak beneath him. He leaned over to the railing behind him. “I think we will stay here for a time, to thank the Goddess for her generosity.”

  Tadraem seemed pleased with this answer and turned to leave them alone.

  Garren knelt at the altar. His hands shook as he clasped them tightly together. He motioned for Cadence to kneel with him. He closed his eyes and began to pray. His whole body ached, sore from the tensions of the past few days, every muscle stretched taut along his bones. His head pounded and his skin felt cool and clammy. He was both angry and terrified. Nothing had ever felt beyond his control, and this was something that not only could he not command, he couldn’t even begin to understand it. This was a night he was supposed to relish, and yet he was on his knees, begging for mercy. He became unaware of the words that were flowing past his lips, his prayers becoming fluid as they formed in his head. It was almost as if he’d fallen asleep, because he came to with a firm hand on his shoulder.