Son of Ereubus

by J. S. Chancellor

  Michael nodded. All his senses told him to get Ariana away from there as fast as possible, that they weren’t safe perched on the rocks. But he couldn’t move his feet. He supposed he was shocked as well. This wasn’t the only border the Ereubinians knew of. He wondered how many others had been slain and left to rot.

  “I recognize the blue from her dress.” Her voice was hollow.

  “Is it your friend Sara?” He didn’t want to hear her answer.

  “No. Bella.” Ariana turned hard, tearless eyes to him. “Why would Garren have done this?”

  “He needs no reason for his depravity. I’ve told you this.”

  “It seems to me that with every human being at their mercy, they wouldn’t be so wasteful. She was alive, Michael. She was still breathing before now. Servant of the Laionai or not, she was still alive! Something provoked this.”

  As much as he wanted to be self-righteous, and as badly as her comments stung, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made an error in judgment. He had certainly felt convinced that killing Jules and his men was warranted, but had it really only been out of vengeance? Could he have let them go, resulting in the same message being sent? He looked out across the landscape, laden with death and the casualties of hate.

  Jareth coughed and wiped his mouth with his sleeve as he came up beside them. “Garren killed Caedmon’s cousin and two other Adorians, slayed them brutally and without reason. We were ambushed by his men last week and had our own not been as loyal as they are, we wouldn’t be here. We left only one of them alive.”

  Ariana looked at Michael again. He was silent, his body aching from both anger and regret. She leaned in to whisper to him, “You want me to be candid with you, and yet you disclose to me nothing of importance.”

  He placed one hand on her cheek. “I am guarded in what I tell you because I care for you. Nothing else matters to me but your safety and that of Adoria.”

  “And had you not returned home last week? What then? Don’t you think I’d mourn your loss? Or worse yet, go on thinking you were alive — searching for you until I was sure that you were either dead or unconcerned with me?”

  “You thought Father left and didn’t return because he didn’t love you?” He reached to pull her close but she rose to her feet. “Ariana, that’s not true.”

  Koen had returned, no doubt at the sound of Ariana’s distress, and rubbed his nose against Michael’s arm, whimpering.

  “Duncan has already told you that Father spoke of you nonstop when he was away from you. I certainly hope you don’t question that you are loved by me and by all of Adoria. Don’t misunderstand my caution as anything more than what any brother would do. Genny had to bear the same from Jareth. If she were still here, I would keep her at the same distance from things of this nature. It isn’t personal.” He lied. That wasn’t quite true. He’d had less to worry about with Genny. Ariana’s little display back in the caverns alone would be enough to elicit several discussions with Jenner concerning her heightened protection.

  She shook her head, her expression losing its momentary warmth. “And what a wonderful, close, relationship that must have been. How blessed she must have felt to traipse along in your shadow, doing as she was told and never thinking a single thought for herself.” Her voice cracked. “There are women on the council of elders, in case you haven’t noticed. Some of us are here as more than ornaments in your perfect world!”

  Ariana couldn’t have been more wrong in her assumptions about how Michael viewed women, how he’d viewed Genny. Truth was that Genny had a weak heart — both literally and figuratively. He’d learned to be careful with her because by the time he’d married her, he’d had no choice in the matter. And in the end, it still didn’t do her any good.

  Jareth coughed again and clamped his hand over his mouth and nose, making his words difficult to understand. “That’s unfair, Ariana. You didn’t know my sister and you don’t know what kind of relationship she and Michael had.”

  Michael waved Jareth quiet. Now was not the time for an argument.

  Ariana turned toward the caves. “Will you still do nothing to help Sara?”

  Michael sighed. It just wasn’t plausible. She was likely dead, or from Ariana’s description, she might have been chosen as a breeder. If the latter was the case, they would never be able to get anywhere near her.

  “If it were within my power to allow it or to rescue her myself, I would. I swear it to you, but I can’t. There are greater things at play here that overrule any one human being, no matter her place in your heart.”

  Ariana nodded only once and he thought he heard her whisper, “OK,” as she passed back through the divide, leaving Michael alone on the rocks with Jareth.

  It almost bothered him more that she didn’t cry. Seeing her caretaker should have elicited more of a reaction than a temper tantrum. He feared that she’d experienced one too many losses. Perhaps not having Sara’s death confirmed would work in his favor until he’d had time to decipher everything that was still unknown about her abilities.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  ADORIAN STONE

  I

  t was well into the night when Ariana awoke. Darkness still covered the landscape beyond her window. It had taken her hours to fall asleep, visions of the carnage permeating her every thought. Michael had the best of intentions, this she knew. But knowing Sara was in imminent danger was too much for her to bear. She lay awake, staring at the canopy above her bed. She would go to Eidolon, with or without Michael’s aid. Her heart raced at the thought. She’d already been face-to-face with Garren and survived. She’d have to take that chance again, or live forever with the knowledge that she could have done something to save Sara, yet chose not to.

  She’d spent weeks with Bronach, reading everything she could find on the history of Eidolon and Adoria. She’d learned much from the writings of the Braeden, and had secured a map leading her there from the northern border of Adoria. She would have to rely on her wit and ability to improvise. A few days earlier she’d found the amulet that had once belonged to her mother wasn’t any ordinary necklace at all, but a key of sorts. According to the legend on the map, where an exact likeness of it was drawn, it appeared to be related to the Braeden tunnels below Eidolon. The history she’d read explained that whatever magic protected the divide between Adoria and Middengard had also been forged to protect the tunnels — the Ereubinians would never have known they were there.

  She rose from her bed and changed into the only clothes she had that would blend in at all — the ones she wore when she escaped from Palingard. The blood from her wound had ruined her blouse but she’d managed to find one similar. She pulled on her riding boots and a long brown cloak. She looked to see if Kaitlyn had stirred, but the girl lay silent in her bed.

  She leaned over and glanced down at Koen, who was sound asleep. She didn’t wake him. When he discovered her absence, he’d alert the others. She took one last look into the room before she left. She would have to be more than cautious, as Michael tended to roam at odd hours. She couldn’t tell if it was because he’d always had strange sleeping patterns, or if he’d been burdened by a heavy mind since her arrival.

  The halls were silent, as she’d hoped. The fastest way to the stables was to pass Michael’s door, but she didn’t dare take that route. She took the long way, through several tunnels and back through the main dining hall. She finally made her way into the night and around the corner to the stables. She’d been given a horse, a beautiful chestnut with a black mane. A gorgeous beast, it reminded her a little of Shadow, but minus the cowardly demeanor. Ariana patted him on the neck saying, “and that is why I named you Midnight.”

  She led him out of the stables before mounting him. They made their way through the back passages that would take them out of Cyphrus and into the Adorian woods. It would be some time before they reached the borders.

  As she rode, the snow fell fast and heavy. The wind picked up and she wondered if this had been a wise
decision. But the image of Bella’s body dropped crudely in the dirt urged her forward.

  It had been hours since she’d left. The sun was coming up over the horizon, and she had yet to reach the border. She knew Michael and the others would rise soon and find her missing. She squeezed her legs against her horse, and he took off. They couldn’t be far from Middengard. As soon as the words had formed in her head, the scenery changed. Her horse stepped down from a two-foot embankment onto the floor of a field. She looked back, surprised. She hadn’t expected the ground to be a different height, but it shouldn’t have surprised her, considering the landscape outside of the border she had found at the edges of the cavern the day before. Her heart stopped for a moment — this was it, she couldn’t turn back now. She wondered, perhaps too late, if the only dangers would be in Eidolon, or if she’d even make it that far. She reached into her saddlebag and grabbed a compass. Comparing it to the map, she turned her horse north and raced onward.

  She stopped several times during the first day to rest and drink water. Once she reached the marshes, she slowed considerably, her boots filling with water as she mucked through, leading the horse by his reins.

  She dismounted another hour into the journey to rest. According to the map and her estimate of how many miles they’d been riding, she was within a mile of Eidolon. She decided it would be in her best interest to leave her horse there.

  Michael would have long since been made aware of her departure and this thought brought a small stab of regret. She didn’t want him to worry, but it was unavoidable. She tied the reins to a tree, hesitant to leave her weapons behind. As much as she wanted them with her, she wouldn’t be able to conceal them in her cloak. She ran her hands down the mane of her horse and rubbed his nose.

  “I’ll be back,” she whispered. She was trying to convince herself more than inform the horse. She walked in the direction of Eidolon.

  It was a barren place, much darker than she’d envisioned. The gates weren’t guarded, which made her nervous. She supposed it was because the city itself hadn’t been attacked in centuries. The last time Adorians were in Eidolon openly was nearly two thousand years earlier.

  Eidolon was expansive, a great black nothingness that seemed to go on forever. There were only small bushes and shrubs to hide in along the edge of the wood. Past that was a barren field of tangled root and mire, where she’d be seen long before she reached the gates.

  Ill at ease, she rested with her back against a great rock, covered mostly in moss and leaves. Absently, she played with her necklace, running the amulet along the chain as she wracked her mind for ideas. Though the map had shown her how to get to Eidolon and that there were Braeden-built structures below the city itself, it gave no hint about how to find the entrance or if the amulet was indeed a key at all.

  After nearly half an hour, she had convinced herself that crawling along the ground was the only way she would have any chance of entering the city. She’d started to lower herself to the ground when her necklace was snatched from her neck.

  She froze, thinking that any moment Garren would again show up out of thin air, but after a few minutes of silence, she started to wonder if she hadn’t imagined it. She placed her hand where the amulet had been, and indeed it was gone.

  She brushed aside moss and leaves, and dirt, finding nothing but Ezzai worms and Shiela bugs. She was about to give up when her fingers grazed over something that didn’t feel at all like stone.

  She pulled everything back, wiping the dirt away to uncover an intricate design carved into the rock.

  I was right!

  More desperate than before, she rooted around until, clutching the amulet in her hands, she crawled back to the stone and slid it into a crevice in the design’s center.

  Suddenly, the rock shifted beside her and a narrow passageway opened, exposing stairs that led into the ground. Plucking the necklace from the lock, she tucked it into her pocket.

  She reasoned with herself that she should feel afraid, but she simply wasn’t. She felt more assured now than before she’d left Adoria. Sara is here!

  Candles were lit along the walls, as though someone stood guard to await her arrival. As she passed through the empty corridors, she saw that paintings adorned the walls, and remnants of life — pots, papers and clothing — still rested in nooks and crannies.

  My father was here…

  It wasn’t long until she found the first door. A faint golden star had been painted on the wall just a few feet back, and she realized this must signify the division in the courts — if what she’d read was correct concerning the layout of the city.

  Pressing her hand against the door, she leaned her ear to it, listening for any sign of life on the other side, and heard nothing but her own shallow breathing.

  It took a short time for her to gather the courage to pry open the door and peer into the night beyond. She stilled her mind and slipped through to the other side.

  Turning to examine the door, she gasped to see that it was no longer there — or, if it was, it could not be seen. Panic momentarily seized her, but a lumbering Dragee nudged her onward before she could give her fear a foothold. She made her way along a darkened corridor until she saw a gleaming white temple in the distance.

  Adorian stone, she mused.

  She studied the attire of those entering the temple, and found that she had been right in her estimation of what middle-lower-class Ereubinians wore. Bravely, and somewhat blindly, she stepped forward onto the steps and made her way into the temple.

  She could tell right away who was human beyond the temple doors. The humans peered out beneath dark scarlet cloaks, but what struck her was how attractive all of them were. Perhaps those who manned the temple couldn’t be burdened with the presence of unsightly servants. Or worse, perhaps this place was used for worship of a sexual nature. She seemed to recall a description of a breeder, but hadn’t lingered on it long. The very idea made her feel sick.

  She traveled deeper into the temple, hearing the curious sound of laughter. Great curtains were hung along most of the walls, to keep the draft down, but it worked to her benefit and she slid easily behind the one nearest the voices. Peering out, what she saw left her speechless.

  His wings were bloodied and torn, ragged from beatings and neglect. His face was wan. A collar was fastened around his neck, glowing with a dull amber light. She thought of how she’d seen Gregor in her dream, held by humans in red robes.

  “Well done, well done,” an Ereubinian whose voice matched the laughter she’d heard came from a darkened corner in the room. Something about his face felt as if she’d seen him before — he favored Garren physically.

  He walked up to the Adorian and, to her bewilderment, handed him a blade.

  She expected the Adorian to gut the Ereubinian, but instead, at the sound of a single-word command, the Adorian turned on the two humans who held him and took the blade to their guts.

  Clasping her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out, she whipped around and closed her eyes with her face against the wall, her heart pounding. She heard a voice telling the Ereubinian that observance would begin soon and waited until they left before forcing her eyes open.

  The Adorian remained seated calmly in the room, blood covering his hands and soaking his clothes. She stared at him through the curtain, wanting to do something, wishing there was some way to snap him out of whatever spell he was under.

  What foul magic is this?

  Mournfully, she turned to leave him, remembering that if Sara had been chosen as a breeder, she would be in observance as well, dressed in white robes.

  It felt like an eternity before she was able to find a white robe that would allow her entrance into the sanctuary. She slipped it on just as the humans passed through the doors.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  WHAT HAVE I DONE?

  G

  arren had been hunting all day. His body was tired, but he’d been successful in his efforts, carrying several deer and
a wolf back with him. The beasts were tied across the saddle of his Dragee as he walked beside it, reins in hand.

  Things had not been well since Jules was slain. The other men were anxious for retribution but Garren needed more time to sort through things, gain his bearings. He’d spent a lot of time in prayer and solitude, neither of which had helped him come to a decision or boosted his men’s confidence in him. He re-organized the remainder of Jules’ men and placed them under the jurisdiction of another commander. Tadraem had suggested they be taken to the outer regions for training and Garren really hadn’t been able to argue — the logic was sound. He’d told his own men they would resume preparations at the beginning of the week.

  Garren was wandering through the city when Micah, with whom Garren had spent a good amount of time since the night of Jules’ brigade’s slaughter, approached him. The boy was out of breath and tried several times to speak, but nothing intelligible escaped his lips. Garren laughed, thinking that like most youth, he was being melodramatic. “Slow down. I can’t understand you.”

  “I swear to you, as sure as I stand here, that I’ve heard Aiden speak. I overheard him talking with another about the men in the outer regions. The man was reporting to Aiden that his command had been carried out. He said the humans were dead and positioned at the border to Adoria.”

  Garren’s face fell. Micah wouldn’t have known of their presence in the outer regions had he not overheard someone else speak of it. “Was anything else said?”

  Micah shook his head. “I followed Aiden to see if I could discover anything else, my Lord, but he said little after that.”

  Garren had disclosed more to Micah than he’d ever intended to. Micah had been brave enough to begin to ask him questions after Garren didn’t do as he’d obviously expected upon finding the cloak. He’d asked what Michael had meant about his sister. Garren, without considering it, told him of their meeting, his release of her in Palingard and of his subsequent visions.