by Dana Davis
“Yes, sir! Algen is good with sheep. Learnt all about ‘em when my papa was alive. He said I had the knack.”
The seer smiled. “I need someone to help my apprentice with the flock. I am getting on in years and they are a bit too fast for me now. I cannot pay you in coin but I can give you a safe place to sleep, plenty of food and clean clothes. You will never go hungry again. What do you say?”
The boy would be a fool to turn down an offer like that, especially from a seer, but Kepriah held her breath waiting for him to answer. When he hesitated, she wanted to club him over the head.
“I say yes,” Algen finally sputtered. “I like sheep. Algen likes to eat. Can I have some food now?”
Instead of getting offended, the old seer laughed and ushered the boy inside. He gave a wave to Kepriah. “May the Moirai keep you safe!”
“And you, Seer!” She realized that he probably knew the boy would accept his offer and she shook her head. “The old faker.”
“Noble?”
“Nothing, Jakon. Let’s get our asses back to Cities of Sleep.” With that, she mounted and turned her jabber back toward Damon’s estate. He is going to shit himself when he sees me returning. And he will probably drop dead from laughter when I show him the chart and tell him his future was planned all along. I only hope he does not order my death before I get the chance to explain.
Damon had been very clear that he would turn her over to the bounty hunters if she returned. The man was in desperate need of money. If not for their friendship, he would have captured Kepriah last time instead of giving a simple warning after he paid his debt to her.
Kepriah stole a glance at Gail. She would have to tell the girl, but not until they were safely inside Damon’s estate. That way, if she tries to bolt, she will not get far.
Chapter 34
Once they made it back to the Cities of Sleep, they were allowed inside the gates, and Larisa felt her eldest sister’s wariness through the link. They got only a few paces before several guards surrounded them, swords and knives pointed their direction. One ordered Kepriah to put down the scepter and the men to drop their weapons. Kepriah had insisted they appear as themselves this time, claiming she had a plan. So far, Larisa did not like this plan.
“What do we do now?” Patrice uttered.
“We do what Damon wants.” With that, Kepriah laid her scepter on the ground.
Fear caressed Larisa’s senses and she was surprised that some of it came from Kepriah. She knew warriors experienced fear, but this seemed such a small thing to provoke her eldest sister. Nice plan, Kepriah. If her sister heard those thoughts, she did not show it. The scepter would follow Kepriah when she walked away. How will she explain that?
“These men do not know anything about you two,” Kepriah said in a low voice. “So keep your traps shut.”
Patrice still had nightmares about this place, and Larisa had her own bad dreams about her time here. I cannot believe I killed a man, despicable as he was. But she was more worried about Kepriah just now. Nyanan had tortured her warrior sister, and Kepriah’s dreams now had a dark overtone, much worse than anything from Patrice.
The guards took up the discarded weapons. Jakon kept a small knife in his boot but the guards did not check him. A particularly large man, just past his middle years, stepped close and grasped Larisa’s arm. When she tried to pull away, his grip tightened, and she sucked in a breath at the pain.
“Do not fight them,” Kepriah said in a low voice.
Larisa nodded and glanced over her shoulder at Patrice. The older man who had her middle sister by the arm also held Kepriah’s scepter. At least they would not have to explain it floating after its owner. Gail looked frightened but Larisa nodded to her and she visibly calmed. They were not taken to the front door, like last time, but in through a side entrance and down a long narrow passage that led to even narrower stairs. As they climbed down the stairs, Larisa tripped on her skirts, but the guard did not stop to let her lift them. If the man had not been holding onto her, she would have tumbled straight down. She heard Patrice and Gail stumble behind her.
When they came to the last step, Larisa’s heart pounded with dread. The dungeon. The place smelled of sour bodies, excrement, and pungent torch oil. The guards opened two of the large cages. The women were ushered inside one and the men in the other. An adjacent cell held a snoring man who reeked of sour wine and urine. Probably a drunk sleeping off some unpleasant offense.
After locking the gates behind them, the guards put the weapons in a nearby trunk and leaned Kepriah’s scepter against it. Larisa heard her oldest sister curse when a guard chained the scepter to one of the trunk straps.
Maybe they know more about us than we realized. A sobering thought that added to Larisa’s fear.
Once the guards left, Patrice turned a frantic gaze on Kepriah then to the scepter. She aimed her ring at the trunk.
Kepriah placed a hand on her arm. “Not yet. Damon will be along soon. I would rather convince him with talk if I can. If that fails, then you can haul that damn trunk over here and Larisa can melt those chains.”
Patrice nodded. “You really think he’ll believe you?”
“He must or he will be destroyed along with the rest of us if we fail the hoisting. Most royals have sense enough to listen when the true seer gives a warning.” Kepriah sniffed and scrubbed a hand across her forehead. “The chart has Damon’s house seal on it, remember? He certainly cannot deny that, especially if it is the real thing.”
“You think it might be a fake?” Larisa said.
Kepriah pursed her lips and paced a few steps. “No. I cannot find anything that signifies a fake. And the seer gave his word that it is real.” She slammed her palm against one of the steel bars, causing Gail to jump. “Jabber shit on a hot day! How can I be Damon’s sister? He is the least detestable royal I know, but I am a warrior, not some bloody fluff of a girl. If we manage to survive this hoisting, I am not wearing a bloody royal dress and letting my ass get fat and soft sitting on some cushy chair.”
Irritation caressed Larisa’s senses, along with a good amount of curiosity. So Kepriah, despite all her talk, was curious about royal life. She smiled at her eldest sister.
“What are you grinning at?”
“Nothing.”
“Better keep it that way.”
“Yes, Royal Kepriah. As you wish.” Larisa gave a slight curtsy. She felt amusement from both her sisters, despite Kepriah’s glare.
Larisa caught Gail’s expression, one of complete and utter astonishment. The others had been present when Algen delivered the pedigree chart, though none had heard the seer confirm anything. Larisa wondered if Gail even understood the chart. Most farmers did not read, much less have the education to copy down their bloodlines. The local midwife or healer usually kept those records. Palith and his men studied Kepriah with renewed interest but no one said anything.
As Kepriah predicted, Damon showed up not long after they were locked up. He came alone and sat on a stool outside the steel bars, just out of reach. “I told you what would happen if you returned, Kepriah. And I have to keep my word. Why did you come back here?” He sounded injured.
“I would have happily stayed away, Damon. But I was given this chart and the seer told me to come.”
He hissed. “The soothsayer is a fool. One of my father’s old playthings. That is why I put her out.”
“Not the soothsayer, you little shit-brain. The seer. The real and true seer.”
Larisa prepared for Damon’s reaction. Kepriah really should not be calling him names. He is a royal. With several armed guards.
“I received this.” Kepriah shoved the chart through the bars.
Damon flinched then pulled himself straight, but Larisa knew now that he was afraid of them. Or at least of Kepriah.
After reading the chart, the young royal threw his head back and laughed. “That is a good one, Kepriah. I should let you go just for giving me such a great laugh, but I need the money
from your bounty. You understand.”
“I was just as shocked as you. More so, I assure you. But that chart is no joke, Damon. Your house seal is on the bottom.”
He studied the seal and his smile faded. Blue eyes still held doubt. “I am not wasting my time on this folly. I can let the rest of you go, since there is no bounty on you.” He actually sounded disappointed and Larisa wanted to clout him. “But Kepriah must stay here.”
“Fair enough,” Kepriah said.
Larisa turned to her eldest sister. “I am not about to leave you here.”
“You will do as I tell you. Take Patrice and the others and make camp just outside Damon’s estate until we work this out.”
Patrice’s frustration registered against Larisa’s senses and the two of them glanced at each other.
“I will give them rooms, Kepriah,” Damon said. “For a little trade.”
“What now?”
“I told you I’m looking for a strong wife. What do you say, Kepriah?”
“What about my bounty?”
“You would be worth more to me as a wife. We would make beautiful children.”
“That’s disgusting,” Patrice uttered. Larisa thought the same thing but her Earth sister was not discreet enough to keep it to herself. “You can’t marry your own sister. I can’t believe royals would allow that. Surely, even on Selenea, you know something about inbreeding.”
“Of course I know about—what do you mean my sis—Kepriah is not a royal.” He waved the chart at her. “This is a fake.”
This time Larisa got into it. “It is real, Royal Damon. Look at her. Do you not see the resemblance? You both have the same coloring, the same eyes.” Damon hesitated. That’s it. Mull it over. “Can you take a chance on marrying Kepriah and then having it come out that she is your blood sister? And what if you got her pregnant? Oh, that would be so shameful for your house, Royal Damon. And we really like you. You have been very nice to us. Your father spared Kepriah’s life. If she is put to death because you turned her in for a bounty, how will it look for your house? A royal killing his own blood sister against his father’s wishes.” Kepriah and Patrice’s surprise caressed her senses and she fought the urge to smile. Instead, she offered her best healer face, the one her mother had used often when delivering news someone did not want to hear. “I am a healer, Royal Damon. Kepriah is your half-sister, and I am swearing that on my healer’s oath.” She had not taken the healer’s oath. Yet, anyway. But he did not know that.
Damon studied the chart again for a moment. “You mean she really is my blood sister?”
“Yes. Your elder sister.” Larisa surprised herself with her next statement. “And she has found you a wife.”
Damon’s mouth dropped then he grinned. “Who?” he said with adolescent-like excitement. “Where is she?”
Kepriah gave Larisa an approving glance. “Let us out so we can tell you all about her, brother.”
Larisa felt guilty that Gail might not find out about the arrangement before Damon did, but right now, they needed to get free of this dungeon. If they missed the hoisting deadline, nothing else they did would matter.
****
Damon released them, got them settled into rooms, and offered the largest meal Larisa had ever had in her life. Since their last visit, Damon had hired a handsome young man a few years Gail’s senior to work for him. Another cousin, he had said. And he assured Patrice that he thoroughly checked this one out himself.
Larisa worried over her youngest sister. The memories of this place were too raw and Patrice’s nerves shaken. Her sister became increasingly jumpy and refused to stay in the same room as before, which Larisa understood completely. Damon was quick to oblige and gave the original rooms to Palith and his men. He found different adjoining rooms for the Trine with adjacent ones for Gail and Jakon.
Damon was handsome and spirited, despite being ostentatious, and that didn’t seem to escape Gail’s observant eyes. The girl flicked her gaze to him numerous times during dinner, when she thought no one was watching, but showing interest in a handsome man and accepting him as her future husband were entirely different animals.
“All right,” Damon said as several elderly servant women cleared dishes from the large table. “I have waited long enough, Kepriah. Who is this girl—woman—you have found for me to marry?”
Kepriah had promised to tell him after their bellies were full, probably so Gail would at least get a decent last meal before learning her fate.
“Is she pretty?”
“Yes, Damon.”
“Ooh.” He clapped his hands with excitement then grew serious. “Is she young? I mean, at least close to my age?”
Larisa hid a smile. Kepriah’s chastisement of Damon’s treatment of younger girls seemed to have sunk in. Good. The girl who had served him last time now worked in the kitchen with older women to look after her.
“She is old enough to marry,” Kepriah said. “And the Sacred Eye guided us to her.”
Damon’s eyes lit up. “The Sacred Eye? Really?”
“Really.” Kepriah’s humor brushed Larisa’s senses.
“Then the Moirai approve of this union.” Damon placed his elbows on the table and grinned. “Well, when will she get here? We have a wedding to plan.”
Patrice leaned into Larisa. “He’s pretty desperate. He didn’t even ask to see her first.”
“He needs an heir. I think at this point, he would marry any woman who could give him children. And the Sacred Eye means a lot. Especially to royals, remember?”
“Damon,” Kepriah told him. “There is something you need to know before you meet her.”
He actually pouted then waved her to continue. Now that Kepriah knew she was his older half-sister, she no longer used his title when addressing him, even in public. She had taken the news of her newfound royal ties reasonably well, in Larisa’s opinion. Once the hoisting was over, she wondered just what her eldest sister would do.
“She is not from a royal fam—”
“That is not a problem, Kepriah. We have been marrying non-royals for centuries.”
“I’m not finished, Damon,” Kepriah said in an authoritative tone. Annoyance brushed Larisa’s senses this time. The woman did not like interruptions. Her brother put two fingers to his lips, made the motion of locking them, then tossed away the imaginary key. “Larisa first saw your future wife in a vision from the Sacred Eye.”
Damon knew Larisa was one of the Trine but he still did not know about her talisman or Patrice’s ring. Kepriah had ordered them to keep silent about their Faytools, just in case this meeting did not go as well as they hoped. Damon’s back grew straighter then he nodded and leaned toward the table like a child anticipating a favorite story.
“Patrice and I received similar visions that coincided with Larisa’s. We needed to find this girl’s mate to complete a plan that the Moirai have set in motion, and it must be done before we can attend to the hoisting.” Damon’s interested seemed to peak even more and he looked as though he would burst, but he kept quiet. “At first, we had the wrong boy. He was only a pawn to deliver the family chart I showed you. The true seer is the one who told us about you, Damon. This woman, the one who will become your wife, will rule by your side. But not here. Not in the Cities of Sleep.”
“What?”
Kepriah waved him quiet and he obeyed. “You and your future wife are destined to sit on the Pewter Throne. You will rebuild Abandoned City.”
Damon jumped from his chair, tossed out several curses mixed with exclamations of disbelief and laughter before he stopped, palms on the table, and focused on Kepriah again. “You cannot be serious. I knew this was a joke. Who did that chart for you? The seal is authentic and when I find out who used it without permission—”
Kepriah stood and gave him a look that she often used to quell Patrice’s attitude. “I am your sister. Your elder sister. The Sacred Eye and the seer would not lead me astray.” She held him with a steely gaze. “Are you calli
ng me a liar, little brother?”
“What? No. Wait. You mean this is not a joke?”
Exasperation waved from her. “Damon, we have but weeks before it is too late to do the hoisting? If we fail, this world will continue to deteriorate. I explained this the last time we were here. Certainly, you have received messages about the weather problems. You must have noticed the time shifts that are happening.”
“Well, yes, I have. You mean it has something to do with this hoisting?”
Damon was only three years younger than Kepriah but he looked and acted like an adolescent at times. Larisa wanted to clout him.
From the look on Kepriah’s face and the rising anger that waved through the link, she was thinking the same thing. “Of course it has to do with the hoisting, Damon. What in hell and Hollow did you think was going on?”
“I did not really think about it all that much.” He sat down.
Kepriah remained standing and crossed her muscular arms. “We need to get you to the Pewter Throne as soon as possible. You and your wife need to claim the throne before we can perform the hoisting.”
“Why? What does me taking a wife and moving to Abandoned City have to do with this hoisting?”
That question was not something Larisa wanted to hear. She knew Kepriah did not have an answer. None of them did. They did not even know the details involved in the hoisting. They simply hoped that once they followed the visions, the Moirai would reveal that information.
“I am sorry, Damon,” Kepriah said in a smooth voice. “But that knowledge is for the Trine only.” Her scepter leaned against the wall behind her chair and she held out her hand. Damon’s eyes widened when it flew to her and smacked against her palm. Then she motioned Larisa and Patrice to stand. “Shall we, Sisters?”
They had rehearsed what they would do to convince him that they were the Trine. Larisa drew her talisman and Patrice made a fist to expose her ring fully. All at once, they performed some of the more impressive, though not the most difficult, magic they had mastered. Larisa’s fireballs hovered over the table, something she had become very adept at creating, while Patrice sent an air whip out to lift Damon’s chair, with him in it, several feet above the marble floor. Kepriah’s magic was more subtle as she tapped into the nearby planters and forced the plants to grow all new flowers. They held the magic for a few seconds to let their actions sink into Damon’s head before releasing it.