Peace.
It welled through him, warm and pleasant and as it went, it took his strength. In its wake it left a dull weight. When it reached his head, when it stole the vision of Rafe racing for him, demanding to know what was wrong with him, he realised what it was.
For so long, his life had been tethered to that of the dukes of Ibarra. Now the last duke was dead.
Finally.
#
Sol awoke and focused on a Bone Mage leaning over him. The man smiled.
“Good evening, your grace.”
Swallowing, Sol found his throat smooth and painless. He touched the skin of his neck.
“I managed to heal your burns and the damage done to your throat. Can I ask what caused it?”
“Escaping a burning dirigible,” Sol said, marvelling at the return of his natural voice.
The Bone Mage raised an impressed eyebrow. “You must have the luck of Saint Damacia.”
“No, just a healthy dose of paranoia.” Almost too scared to know, he asked, “My back?”
“Is fine. A very small crack in one of your vertebrae. Healed completely with no nerve damage. You can walk.”
Sol sighed in relief.
“I would suggest you take it easy for a while yet, though. I’ve already cautioned your first visitor.”
“Visitor?”
“It’s a miracle she’s stayed away this long.”
With that remark, the mage left, holding the door open for Aracelle.
Sol struggled to sit up, but Aracelle pushed him back down, plumping his pillows and tucking a blanket around him.
“Aracelle.” His voice broke on her name, grief, love and shame all tangled up in there.
“I know,” she whispered. “Remember, I’ve seen you like this before. It didn’t scare me away then. It won’t now.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. “Sol, I thought I’d lost you.”
And just like that, he was back. He opened his arms to her and she fell against him, crying and laughing and beating his chest.
“It was you,” he said when he could speak through the tightness in his throat. “You and Sebastian. Thinking about you both, wanting to get home to you, to keep you safe, that kept me going.”
Aracelle sniffed and cuddled into his chest. “That and your beautiful young Earth Mage.”
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. When he’d finished kissing her and they lay side by side on the bed, he finally looked around. They were in a lush room in Ibarra’s palace. He recognised it by the gratuitous amounts of Ciro red, the prominence of anything de Ibarra made.
“These are my old rooms,” Aracelle said. “I wanted you somewhere I knew, somewhere I could protect you.”
“Thank you.”
Lifting her head from his chest so she could look him in the eyes, she asked, “How did you escape the dirigible?”
A little meekly, he admitted, “A wand of air magic. I know, I know,” he added hurriedly when she seemed ready to scold him. “They’re illegal and I shouldn’t have them, but it saved me, and Eloisa. And helped us expose Alamar. But that’s it, I swear. No more.”
Aracelle sighed and settled back down. “As long as you’re back, that’s all I care aobut.”
Grateful there was no argument, yet at least, Sol sat up and stretched. “What’s going on outside?”
“Alamar’s dead,” she reported sadly. “The Immortal Soldier killed him. Then he died too. Ramiero explained it all to me. He knew what Alamar was doing, as well, though he wouldn’t tell me what information Alamar and Isabel were using to control Galo and Bolivar.”
Sol pushed aside the guilt for everything he’d done. “Karyme can’t get pregnant, so Bolivar went to her friend Ovalia. She’s carrying Bol’s child. Neither of them consulted with Karyme before doing it.”
Aracelle moaned. “How could he?”
“Desperation. He thought they could pass the child off as Karyme’s, that once she held the babe she would agree to anything.”
“And Galo?”
“It won’t be easy for you to hear this.”
She straightened her shoulders. “Tell me.”
“Well, it all began when Alamar found Galo in the throes of passion, with a boy.”
Aracelle frowned. “I always suspected it of him. Why was that hard to hear?”
“That boy was Ramiero. It was consensual.”
Taking a deep breath, Aracelle digested the news about her nephew calmly. “I don’t care. He’s a good hearted, smart young man. He’ll rule Ibarra well.”
Sol hoped she was right. “Do you know what happened in the Valley?”
She clutched his hand to her chest. “It was horrible. Ramiero told me everything.” A story of the horrors of war followed, then a tale of betrayal and deceit, ending in a bloodbath and the defeat of the enemy. “Orrego Battalion took over when the Alarians were captured. What’s left of General du Serres’s regiment are being returned to Alarie, but the officers will be brought here for trial.”
Stunned Gabe had once again performed a seeming miracle, Sol asked, “And du Serres is all right?”
“Doing well, according to the reports. Though he has to be watched closely. They fear he might do something drastic, considering they believe Gabe was a demon. His colonel has already tried to murder him once, apparently.”
A knock stalled any further conversation. Aracelle went to answer it, letting Ramiero in. They stood for a moment by the door, talking quietly. The prince blushed deeply, head lowered, but Aracelle lifted his face and kissed his cheeks. They hugged and then Ramiero faced Sol.
Bowing, Ramiero said, “Your grace, I’m pleased to find you healed.”
“As am I. Thank you for your timely interruption in the council hall. I hadn’t been expecting the support, but I’m grateful for it.”
Ramiero tried a smile that faltered at the corners. “And I wasn’t expecting to find my father able to hold his own against the Immortal Soldier. I came to find out if you discovered anything to explain that.”
“Ramiero,” Aracelle murmured. “He’s barely healed. Let him be for a while.”
“It’s all right,” Sol said. “No. I didn’t find anything about Alamar’s... strange abilities.”
The prince’s shoulders slumped. “Abbess Morales knows nothing as well. Of course, she could be trying to save face after learning just how far Father deceived her. And the only person who could possibly answer my questions is also gone.”
“Prince Ramiero,” Sol said. “I have to ask. How did Gabe die?”
“As a hero.” He spun a tale of a wise Bone Mage little resembling the angry one who left Roque and a sweet Sacerdio who betrayed them all. The Immortal Soldier had told Ramiero all about Dina and a soldier called Palo, revealing that Alamar had somehow managed to create more immortals.
“We don’t know how Mage Castillo killed Dina. There were no wounds, but she was dead. I’ve had every Bone Mage I could find confirm that. None of them could discover how she died, though.”
Sol smiled. “That’s Gabe. Doing the impossible. I would like his body returned to Roque for interment.”
The prince shifted nervously. “I’m sorry, Duke Deleon. We didn’t bring his body back. We couldn’t find it.”
#
Days passed slowly and the turmoil left by Alamar’s treachery was slowly resolved. Princess Alegria de Valdes y Sarabia’s petition was revisited by the reconvened Council of the Second Estate and was upheld. Her daughters were still in the custody of Abbot Guillermo, but at least the Second Estate would fight for them now. Ramiero declared his intent for the ducal throne of Ibarra and Abbess Morales installed him as regent until the next Council of the First Estate could confirm his position as duke.
Galo announced his plan to divorce his wife, slyly adding it was because women weren’t to his taste. His revelation was a shock but his carefree disregard for the scandal sailed him through it. He did, however, keep his illicit affair with Prince Ramiero a secret. One Sol swore to never hold aga
inst either man.
Duchess Isabel de Herrera was accused of blackmail, but when Bolivar refused support the charge, it was dropped.
Bolivar and Karyme returned home as soon as they could, their private matters still private, though Sol suspected it would all boil over eventually. He’d wanted to talk to Bol before he left but his cousin wouldn’t see him. Not that Sol blamed him. He’d tortured him, and even though Aracelle counselled that it hadn’t really been him, it didn’t ease the guilt. The guilt would never leave him, not even if Bolivar could come to forgive him.
On the fifth day after Alamar’s death, Sol, Aracelle and Eloisa were about to ascend the lift to an air-dock when a squad of soldiers fetched them back to the palace.
“What’s going on, Ramiero?” Aracelle demanded when her nephew appeared.
Looking haggard and frightened, Ramiero gripped her hands. “It’s Father.”
Wanting nothing more than to go home to his son, Sol grabbed the young man. “What about him? Isn’t he interred yet?”
Ramiero shook hard. “We were going to inter him today. But he’s gone.”
“What do you mean, gone?” Sol all but shouted.
“I mean he’s gone,” Ramiero shouted back. “His body was under the cathedral, in a locked cell. No one’s been down there, Abbess Morales swears by Saint Ciro. But the body is gone.”
A cold sensation cut through Sol’s stomach. He met Aracelle’s worried gaze.
“This isn’t over yet.”
#
Thump.
Thump thump. Thump thump.
He opened his eyes. Fear locked his body as he recognised the room.
A cell under the cathedral.
David Exposito de Ciro screamed his rage and denial into the empty cell.
About the Author
L.J. Hayward lives and works on the Gold Coast, Australia. As a pathology scientist, she’s spent a good deal of time around blood and supposes it’s only natural she chose it as a cornerstone of her writing. Don’t worry, she’ll get over the obsession soon. Maybe. You can check up on her progress on her blog, Plot Happens, or waste a bit of time at her website, L.J. Hayward.
Other Titles
Night Call – an Urban Fantasy series
Blood Work - Matt Hawkins kills monsters for a living. Slay and pay. Werewolves, trolls, the occasional ghoul that gets a bit too big for its grave; but basically, whatever nasty critter crosses his path. Mostly, he kills vampires. While he’d made something of a living out of it, he doesn't even need the promise of cash to take down a vampire. Sure, it’s a nice bonus, but vampires are his personal crusade.
Demon Dei - It's been six months since the harrowing conclusion of Blood Work and Matt's waiting for the fiery repercussions. And waiting. And waiting. Even if no Big Bad wants revenge, shouldn't he be in hot demand? Like the lawyer who wins the unwinnable case. Or the mechanic who works out what that clunking noise is in your car. Instead, Matt finds himself struggling to maintain his career as the Night Caller. But things are about to get nasty in a big, big way.
Here Be Dragons (short story) – Sunday. Day of Rest. To anyone not Matt Hawkins, vampire-slayer extraordinaire, that is. A short story set in the world of Night Call, between the novels Demon Dei and Rock Paper Sorcery.
Rock Paper Sorcery – Vanquishing vampire Primals and defeating Demon Lords is one thing. They’re dangerous in an obvious, tooth and claw way. But when a sorcerer comes to town chasing a murderous rogue, Matt Hawkins is faced with something he doesn’t know how to deal with—competition as the city’s resident badarse supernatural warrior.
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