by Kyle Prue
“No more stalling,” Darius ordered. “Let’s go!” He led the way down the steep staircase and out the back door, heaving a large cloak over his shoulders to hide his shining armor. He needn’t have bothered; the city was nearly empty tonight.
The group walked together down the quiet streets to the market, sticking to the shadows in case a stray civilian happened to walk by. The Taurlum mansion loomed in the distance. Darius kept his eyes fixed on his old home. Michael was in there. Could Michael have told the emperor about the meeting in the church? Was it Michael who had hired an assassin to kill him? No, Darius thought furiously. Michael would never do that. Michael would have an explanation.
They reached a road that split in two directions. One was paved with marble. It led to the front hall of the Taurlum mansion. The other was a small dirt road that curved around behind the mansion, ultimately to the secret barrier gate. “Well,” Darius said. “I guess this is it.” He took a step onto the marble path. Rhys followed.
“Be careful,” Neil said softly. After a second of hesitation, he pulled Rhys into a hug. “Don’t trust either of them,” Darius heard him whisper. “I don’t feel good about this whole thing.”
Rhys smiled calmly. “We’re just going to talk,” he reminded his brother. “There’s no danger.”
“I still don’t feel good about you in a room with two Taurlum,” Neil murmured.
“Good luck, sir,” Jonathan said to Darius.
“See you on the other side, Shadow Man.”
Rhys and Darius walked side by side down the road. “Darius,” Rhys said. “You do know there’s a chance we’ll have to fight him.”
Darius stopped in his tracks. “Michael and I are brothers. He would never try to hurt me.”
“Right.” Rhys let silence fall over them for a few minutes as they resumed walking. “Darius?”
“Yeah?”
“You trust me, right?”
Darius snorted. “You’re a Vapros. I trust you as much as I would trust a Vapros, I suppose.”
“Ok, do you at least agree that my knowledge about things is usually pretty accurate?”
Darius didn’t like where this was going. “I suppose.”
“I’m just saying that there are a lot of things that just aren’t adding up. You have to prepare yourself for that.”
Darius said reluctantly, “I will. But he’s not behind this. Trust me. I know my brother.”
“I hope you’re right,” Rhys said softly. “I truly hope you’re right.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
THE ALTRYON GATE
NEIL VAPROS
Neil saw Bianca before she saw him. His pulse quickened. She was leaning against the nearest building, still wearing her armor trimmed with fur. He quickly materialized next to her. “Hello,” he whispered in her ear. “What’s up?”
“Neil!” She wrapped her arms around him almost sympathetically. His letter had detailed the situation with Jennifer.
He returned the hug. “What’s the situation?”
“Five guards,” she replied. “I could have taken them out on my own, but I’d like someone to get rid of the bodies. Also, it doesn’t seem fair that I get to have all the fun.”
He grinned. “What about outside the wall?”
“No idea.” Lilly and Jonathan approached. “Ah,” Bianca said, “it’s the rich girl. How’ve you been, rich girl?”
Lilly offered a little smile. “I’ve been working hard,” she said. “You still couldn’t beat me, street girl.”
“I remember you being pretty quick,” Bianca said. “Ready to take out some guards?”
Lilly whipped out her sword. “Born ready.”
Bianca led them around the corner and pointed up. Two soldiers patrolled the top of the wall. “Watch this,” she mouthed. She pulled out two knives, one in each hand, and threw them at the same time. Both met their marks; the guards fell off the wall, shouting. Neil materialized right below and caught them by the necks, cremating them before they even hit the ground.
One of the guards on the ground heard the commotion and came running toward the Vapros boy, but Lilly jumped out of the shadows and sank her sword through his heart. Neil sprinted over to disintegrate him while Lilly and Bianca each took out another guard.
It was over in less than ten seconds. Neil kicked through piles of ash. “That’s the most people I’ve ever dematerialized in a row,” he panted.
“My God,” Jonathan breathed. “That was incredible. They just dissolved!”
Neil nodded, trying desperately to catch his breath. “It takes a lot out of you.”
Jonathan didn’t seem to notice Neil’s exhaustion. “Those first two didn’t even land!” he said, awestruck.
Neil laughed a little at Jonathan’s incredulity. “It’s a handy little talent.”
“How do you do it?”
“It takes concentration. We take the same energy we use to teleport, but we channel it into another person instead of ourselves. They aren’t capable of reforming, like we are, so they just turn into ash.” Jonathan’s jaw was hanging open. Neil smiled. “It’s a lot easier to do it to people who are already dead. When you try to cremate living people, their bodies fight back. They have their own energy that keeps them glued together. My father can manage it, but I’m nowhere near strong enough yet.”
Lilly and Bianca caught up to them. “Ready?” Lilly asked, “We have a city to escape.”
Neil walked up to the giant gate and pulled it open. Instead of spitting them out into freedom, it opened into a long corridor with another gate at the end. It was so close he could have materialized right up to it.
Unfortunately, there were several soldiers standing in his way.
“Well, well, well,” said a voice from behind the guards. “That was almost too easy.”
The soldiers parted and General Carlin walked between them, brandishing a broadsword. Lilly snarled and raised her own weapon.
“Oh, please.” Carlin said, rolling his eyes at Lilly. “Did you really think we wouldn’t find out about your escape attempt? The Vapros brats have been advertising it all over town.”
Neil reddened. Carlin noticed.
“We have our spies,” he said, smiling. “Michael Taurlum was very helpful.”
Lilly gasped. “I knew it,” she muttered. “Stand down, Carlin,” she commanded. “In the name of my brother, Anthony Celerius, I order you to call off your soldiers!”
Carlin laughed. “In the name of Anthony Celerius? Anthony is dead. I killed him myself. Sent you the ashes in a box, remember?”
Lilly narrowed her eyes. “Stand down or I will—”
Before she could finish the threat, she and the rest of her group were thrown against the wall and suspended in midair by an invisible force. “I’ll take it from here, General,” a cold voice said. Neil’s heart sank as he recognized Saewulf. “Ah, one of you is a Vapros,” he said delightedly, making his way through the ranks of soldiers. “Do you remember me? It’s been too long!” His hands began to glow. “Let’s see if you die as easily as your family members.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
TAURLUM MANSION
DARIUS TAURLUM
The Taurlum mansion didn’t have a lock. The front door was designed to be so heavy that only a Taurlum could heave it open. With a grunt, Darius forced through the door and beckoned Rhys inside behind him.
Their footsteps echoed against the marble floor. Rhys let out a low whistle. “Nice place,” he said, admiring the high ceilings. “Much different from our house.”
Darius didn’t say anything. He couldn’t quite believe he was home. He had long ago accepted that he would never set foot in this entryway again, yet here it was, looking as splendid and regal as the last time he saw it. He pressed his palm against one of the columns and closed his eyes. It was like he’d never left. If he concentrated hard, he could almost hear his family’s voices echoing down the hallways.
“Where’s Michael’s room?” Rhys asked.
Darius opened his eyes and exhaled. “Upstairs,” he said quietly. “I’ll show you.” He led the way through a maze of staircases and hallways, pausing at each one to touch a portrait or gently straighten a tapestry. It didn’t feel like his house was deserted. Any second now, someone would come around the corner and ask him if he wanted to go out and get a drink. It would be like nothing had ever happened; the past two months were just a dream.
“This is his room,” Darius said, rapping his knuckles against the door. It fell open. Michael’s room was empty. His bed was stripped of its sheets, his dresser overturned, his clothes spilled out over the floor. A fine layer of dust covered it all.
“It doesn’t look like anyone’s been here for a long time,” Rhys whispered.
“Why are you whispering?” Darius asked, lumbering into his brother’s bedroom and pulling the dresser into its upright position. “You’re acting like somebody died in here.”
“Somebody did die here. A lot of people died here.” Rhys still wouldn’t set foot in the room. “Did you not realize that?”
“Taurlum don’t die,” Darius insisted. “They’re all imprisoned.”
Rhys persisted, “Taurlum have weaknesses, same as everybody else. You and your family aren’t gods. You’re mortal men. And some of you died in the attack that night.”
“You may know a lot,” Darius said, steadying himself against Michael’s dresser, “but you’re wrong about this.”
“I’m sorry,” Rhys whispered, “but I don’t think I am.”
Darius held perfectly still for a moment, then stormed past Rhys and down the hallway. “Michael’s not here,” he said. “We’re leaving.”
“Wait!” Rhys had to materialize every few steps to keep up. “Is there anywhere else he could be? Any places he used to spend a lot of time?”
“The roof,” Darius said, not slowing down. “That way.” He gestured vaguely. “Find it yourself.”
“Darius!” Rhys grabbed his arm and held on tightly. The Taurlum didn’t even slow down. “We need to find your brother!”
“Maybe my brother is dead,” Darius growled. “Just like the rest of my family apparently is! I don’t need to listen to your condescending Vapros attitude.”
“He’s not dead,” Rhys said calmly. “You saw him two days ago. He has the answers you need. Remember why we came here?”
Darius finally stopped. “Right.” He put his face in his hands and took a few deep breaths. “The roof—this way.” He started up a long staircase and threw himself against the door at the top. It burst open with a noise so loud that, for a moment, Darius thought he’d ripped it completely off its hinges. “Michael?”
Michael turned around and gazed with droopy eyes at his intruders. “Darius,” he said lazily as he raised his jeweled arms. “Glad to see you made it home.”
“What do you . . . you never showed up at the church. You said you’d meet me and then you didn’t come.”
Michael gave him a slow smile. “No, I didn’t. I had more important things to do.”
“That assassin came back,” Darius said. “She tried to kill me again.”
“Did she?” Michael took a step toward them. The jewelry on his wrists clinked softly, like cruel, quiet laughter. “But she failed, I see.”
“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” Darius didn’t like the look in Michael’s eyes.
“Indeed.” Michael stopped. “What a pity,” he said harshly.
Darius stared. “What a … a pity? Michael, what are you talking about?”
“Anastasia,” he said loudly, and the assassin stepped out of the shadows. “He’s still alive.”
Anastasia looked furious. “Not for long,” she growled, reaching for her spike. Michael held out a hand to stop her.
“You have tried to kill him three times,” he said softly, and Darius felt his jaw drop. “Give up. You clearly aren’t capable. I’ll do it myself.”
“Michael?” Darius’s throat was dry. “What are you talking about?”
Michael turned and gazed over the city. “A couple of months ago, when that Vapros boy attacked our house, I realized how easy it would have been for him to kill one of us,” he said. “We were stronger, of course, but he had the element of surprise. We barely saw him coming. And I started to wonder. What would have happened if he’d reached his target? What if he had killed our grandfather? Or even our father?”
“Neil’s not so bad,” Darius said quickly. “The Vapros aren’t so different. I actually think the feud can end. Stop what you’re doing Michael.”
Michael didn't appear to hear him. “So I took a look at Father’s will, just to see how things could have ended up. You can imagine my surprise when I discovered that he left everything to you.”
“So what? I’m his son!”
Michael turned back and glared at Darius. “His youngest son,” Michael hissed. “He didn’t leave anything to me. The elder. The rightful heir. You would be the new ‘Sir Taurlum.’ He preferred you. He’s always preferred you.”
Darius could barely breathe. “So you tried to have me killed over some money? I would have shared it with you. You know that.”
“It’s not about money!” Michael was starting to lose his composure. “It’s about the fact that our father loved you more than he loved me! Our entire family did! And for what? I decided to leave for a girl and despite our ‘break-up,’ I am still considered a deserter. A failure. As long as you’re alive, Darius, I will always be second best. And it’s not in a Taurlum’s nature to settle for second.” Michael gestured toward Rhys. “I see you brought a friend. Now you’re fraternizing with a Vapros. This is exactly why you have always been completely incapable of leading this family. You are consorting with our greatest enemies.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Darius saw Rhys start to reach for his knife. “So you hired an assassin to kill me once I was in prison?” he asked.
Michael laughed hollowly. “I’m the one who put you there.”
“I don’t understand.”
“How do you think the Imperial Guards found you so quickly? Who do you think alerted them that someone would be attacking the Opera House that night?”
Against his will, Darius whispered, “It was you?”
A few raindrops fell from the sky. Michael shrugged his shoulders. “Of course it was me. I was hoping you’d die resisting but there was no such luck. So I took other precautions. I didn’t plan on the army ousting us, though. I was forced to hide for a while. One night, Carlin caught me in the markets. He was going to kill me, until I offered him something better: every other family member. I told him I could find all of you, and he told me he’d give me my weight in gold for each one. I sent my assassin again, but then you found me and gave me everything—five fugitives under one roof. I’m a free man, thanks to you. I can walk down the streets with my head held high. Now I’m free to build my legacy: a legacy where I can be free of the things that haunt me. Free of my mistakes.” He straightened a few of his bracelets and continued to stare into the distance. “And tonight, I’m going to kill you.”
“Are you that stupid? You really think the emperor is going to live up to his end of that bargain? Once he captures us, you will be at the top of the most wanted list.”
Michael said, “You’re wrong. The emperor needs me. He attacked our family without knowing enough about our businesses. He can’t run them without my help. He realizes my value in restoring economic order,” Michael continued, his voice dangerously calm. “So tonight it ends, brother. Part of me always knew I’d have to be the one to do the deed. Part of me knew I couldn’t have someone else do it for me. It’ll be over quick. You’ve lost a lot of weight.”
“This is crazy,” Darius said. “You’re crazy.”
“Shut up!” Michael roared deafeningly loud. “I will not have my motives questioned by the likes of you. What were you doing with your life, anyway? Drinking it away? Your death won’t even matter.” Anastasia began to spin her spike-
chain. “This is where it ends, Darius.”
Darius clenched his jaw. He trembled. “Then let’s end it—bare hands, man to man.”
Michael curled his hands into fists and leaped at Darius, who met him halfway with a force just as mighty. They collided with a sound as loud as thunder. Michael recovered first. He swung his full might into Darius’s jaw; the blow sent a shockwave through the air. Anastasia tried to hurl her spike at Darius, but Rhys materialized in front of it and deflected the blow with his knife. Anastasia growled and slammed her foot across his face in a roundhouse kick. He tried to materialize behind her to put her to sleep, but she anticipated it and whipped the spike at him, forcing him to dodge and duck.
Across the roof, Michael was quickly getting the better of Darius. He swung faster and harder than his brother and Darius was having trouble getting his arms up to block. “You never understood!” Michael roared as he swung with all his might. “I have the strength of a god! Why should I be treated like a mortal man?”
Darius delivered a punch to Michael’s stomach that would have killed a normal man. “You’re not a god,” he yelled back angrily. “Taurlum have weaknesses, same as everybody else. You are treated like a mortal man because you can die like a mortal man!”
The rain fell hard now. Michael lashed out with a strike Darius wasn’t strong enough to block. He hit the ground so hard it left a Taurlum-sized crater. “All evidence to the contrary,” Michael retorted, grabbing Darius by the front of his armor and slamming him back into the floor. Darius struggled to get up, but Michael pinned him down with one hand and began to beat him with the other. “Am I not a god?” he shouted. “I don’t bleed. Mortals bleed!’
Darius’s breastplate crumpled. Michael ripped it away and delivered more blows to his now-unguarded upper body. “I have never felt tired. Mortals tire!”
He punched Darius’s face. “I’ve never been hungry. I’ve never felt weakness. I have never been in pain. Am I not a god?” he roared.