by JANRAE FRANK
The door swung open and Mohanja stood there. He did not ask her in. "Edouina, what do you want?"
"To talk to the Grand Master. About Talons."
Mohanja's eyes took on an odd look that Edouina could not interpret. "He does not wish to speak to you. Go away."
"It's important. It's about Talons," Edouina repeated, annoyance creeping into her voice. She could not understand why the Grand Master could be so unconcerned about his granddaughter. He had always loved Talons so dearly.
"The Grand Master is sleeping."
"Then I will talk to you now and the Grand Master later."
A small black cat slipped around Mohanja's feet, listening. Edouina scooped the cat up. "Hello, Twizzle."
"That actually is his name? I thought I heard someone call him that." Mohanja thawed a bit.
"Yes, that's his name. Now do we talk?"
"With me, yes. The Grand Master, no. He refuses to talk to anyone concerning Talons. That is his policy." Mohanja stepped aside, allowing Edouina to enter the outer chamber.
She glanced around, startled at how much it had changed since the last time she had come here. Her eyes went to the tapestry of the naked women butchering the bull and she shivered. What in Hell's name could have possessed the Grand Master to put that thing up?
"Sit down," Mohanja said, indicating a chair.
Edouina sat and Mohanja did also. Twizzle jumped from her hands and found a corner under a chair to curl up. "Someone is poisoning Talons."
"Talons is ill. Possibly from having the bi-kyndi bound," Mohanja replied patiently.
"No one gets sick from having the bi-kyndi bound. I should know."
"I am sorry, Edouina, but I cannot take your word for that."
Edouina rolled her eyes, seeing that that would go nowhere. "And the vampire marks? There definitely is a vampire in Creeya. And it's been feeding on Talons."
"She created the marks herself. She doesn't want to marry Bryndel." Mohanja said, a vague discomfort entering his eyes.
"She's pregnant by him for Hadjys' Sake! Why wouldn't she marry him?"
"She's promiscuous. She wants to be sole regent for the grandchildren."
Edouina stared. Until then she had considered Mohanja a friend as much as a commander. Now she wondered seriously in whose camp he was actually in. "Yes, Lord Mohanja," she said stiffly.
"Everyone knows how the Sharani are. With the bi-kyndi bound, she can not get enough of it."
Anger rose hot in Edouina. "As you say, Lord, so it must be. With your permission, I will leave." Edouina stood at Mohanja's nod.
Mohanja stopped her at the door. "Edouina, a bit of advice. You will find no sympathy for Talons here. Look for it elsewhere."
"Yes, Lord, I will." Then she stalked out.
Mohanja watched her go, and closed the door. He had merely parroted back the information as he had been ordered to do by the Grand Master; he felt dirty for doing so. He had believed nothing that he had said, except the last. There was no sympathy for Talons among the upper echelons, except that of which he dared not speak. All of his attempts to reason with Takhalme had failed. His hands were tied.
* * * *
Edouina and Dynarien sat in the parlor at the little table, nibbling on a cheese plate that Jysy and Arruth had fetched from the kitchen. None of them were taking meals outside those rooms with any regularity, mounting a watch on Talons with unspoken accord. The incidents of her collapsing had grown more frequent, rather than less, and had them all worried. What made matters worse was the way Takhalme was closing himself off more and more, refusing to see anyone for any reason, especially if it concerned Talons; which had Patriarch Eshraf increasingly worried.
Edouina had chosen to downplay her fight on the quad as well as the attitudes and rumors she encountered daily whenever the subject of the kyndi and bi-kyndi came up or was – more often than not – shoved in her face by strangers. She suspected these rumors had been deliberately started, but had no clue as to why or with whom they might have originated. When she asked people where they had heard them, they usually did not remember or refused to answer and she got no farther. Apparently someone stood to gain by demonizing all the Sharani in Creeya. Or were they doing it just to take down a single Sharani? Herself or Talons? Or both of them? She wondered how the rest of the Sharani were managing in the face of this. There were a dozen or more just within the palace compound itself.
"Why would anyone, except the gossips, think Talons needed medicine? She's always been disgustingly healthy.
"I have no idea. I don't move about the palace or the school much, so I don't hear the rumors. The drug has me puzzled," Dynarien said. "I keep finding trace amounts of something I don't recognize. I'm also finding damage I can't account for. The two don't seem related. Yet they must be."
"We get complacent some times. I mean 'we' as in Sharani, honey. It's very hard to poison us. Ishla's tinkering gave us a resistance to venoms and poisons that's almost immunity. A pound of arsenic wouldn't give us any thing worse than an upset stomach. I knew a Sharani – we had gone to Jedrua on assignment – got bit by a snake, something called a mamba, the venom didn't give her so much as a rash. Trouble is, we forget that there's still stuff out there that can bring us down. We forget to be careful."
* * * *
Yahni dropped by Terrys' apartments that morning. He looked haggard and worried. For the last three nights he had had to struggle for whatever sleep he managed to get. "Have you seen Belyla?" he asked. "I cannot find her. I waited all night for her to return to the temple and she didn't come. I've sent messages, but our friends cannot find her either. Nor have I heard from her in any way."
Terrys sighed. "I'm certain she's all right."
Yahni's expression turned sad. "Could she have changed her mind about me? Regretted the marriage?"
Terrys put an arm around his shoulder, giving him a companionable hug. "Belyla loves you, Yahni. If it's any consolation, none of Wrathscar's daughters have been seen in days. He must have taken them away again. He does that sometimes."
"Is there a way to find out where they are? To get word to Belyla?"
"Well, I tell you what, Yahni. I do know where Wrathscar's manor is in town. I'll find an excuse to go look for her. I've been there and they know me."
Yahni smiled. "Thank you, Terrys. I appreciate it." He carried in his pocket letters from his relatives in Shaurone. They had agreed to allow him and Belyla to come there and live; to allow him to serve in their household as befitted his talents. He imagined the smile on Belyla's face when he shared the letters with her. They could finally run away together. Then their marriage would no longer need to be a secret.
* * * *
Galee opened the book and, as she read, she changed her mind and decided to postpone putting Bryndel into play for a few more days. Queiggy had suspected the vampire was a Lemyari. Interesting. How could his mind have made such an incredible leap? At least they were looking for a male vampire. In that much she was safe. She shoved the book into the fireplace and watched it burn. The Guild worked in teams when the game was this dangerous. Who were the others? She had lost all but one of her Guild Wing lesser bloods – they could only entered if invited and that was not likely to happen now – and the up drawbridge had been declared which meant Queiggy's entire division was on alert. She needed to discover who the leadership units were. Who planned this little escapade? Yukiah? Yukiah was a very dangerous mon. Where and who was the yuwenghau? It had to be Dynarien, yet she had not caught so much as a glimpse of him entering or leaving Talons' rooms.
The healers' records and tissue samples, which they had crystaled, would need to be destroyed also. That should be easy to take care of. A knock came at her door.
"Come in!" she yelled crossly.
Six guardsmyn began dragging long chests into her apartments.
"What is this?"
"A shipment for you, My Lady," the captain answered.
Galee rose, looking at them curiously. She
strolled over, noticing the black and crimson crest, and her eyes widened. "Lord Darmungaard! All the way from Charas! I must inform Lord Wrathscar that the gifts have arrived for the wedding."
"Awful heavy gifts, My Lady."
Toys that can kill a god usually are. Galee smiled, clapping her hands delightedly, and then laughed. Brandrahoon's alias in Creeya was Lord Darmungaard.
"I believe you will want to examine my wares as well as the gifts from Lord Darmungaard, My Lady?"
"Zarliche!" Galee exclaimed and her whole face lit up with undisguised pleasure as the simple mon of middle height emerged from the shadows beyond the doorway. He wore an open sided black coat with pockets over a nondescript brown tunic and baggy trousers tucked into polished boots. Two large satchels stuffed to capacity hung at his sides, their wide straps criss-crossing his chest. "Zarliche! You came yourself! I knew you were coming eventually, but I never expected you so soon. This is marvelous."
She kissed the Master of Blood impulsively on the cheek.
Master Zarliche Blood embraced her. "You always were a favorite, Galee, even when you were just a wee little bit of a thing. Your letters intrigued me, so I thought I'd have a look and see what kind of fun I could get into with you."
"Can I offer you a drink?"
"You know my tastes, Galee."
"I certainly do and I've already put several bottles by."
He grinned broadly. "That's my girl."
Master Zarliche Blood of MZB Cartage and Hauling, doing a little bit of this and a little bit of that on the side for those who knew what to ask for, was a strange creature who passed for human – but was not to an eye that knew what to look for. She needed to caution him about the Fae.
* * * *
Sha arrived early at the healers annex on the east end of the palace, the one laying between the Grand Master's Wing to the northeast and the Guild wing to the southeast. The door stood ajar and that sent a chill of suspicion up her spine. She carried in her hand Queiggy's requisition of all healer records and tissue samples from the period of the last vampire attacks thirty years ago, plus the results from three odd cases of soldiers found dead in alleys with evidence of fast spreading necrosis around tiny single puncture wounds. One of those bodies had been found to be unclean and Eshraf had removed its heart so that it could not rise undead.
"Tollo?" Sha called the name of the healer who had been on call during the night and should have been inside. There was no answer. She nudged the door open with her foot and saw the edge of the room littered with broken glass, pieces of shattered furniture and pooling liquids from shattered containers. Tension threaded her body as she gave the door a solid kick to open it all the way. Tollo's corpse lay head down and broken backed across the edge of a table that had half its legs broken off so that it rested like an off-kilter pyramid in the middle of the debris covered floor. His entrails had been torn out and distributed across him like a contemptuous after thought. Sha's stomach heaved and she forced it to settle.
"Sha?"
Shaheeramaat turned to see three of her healers heading up the corridor toward her. "Go back! Dorie, tell Queiggy to get someone up here fast. Tollo's dead."
"Shall I fetch the guard also?" Dorie, a plump, soft-faced woman asked calmly.
Sha almost smiled at Dorie's clear-headedness and lack of panic. "No. Just tell Queiggy to send someone."
Then Sha went in. She stepped carefully amid the debris, not wanting to disturb the scene before they could get a Guildsmon up to look it over for clues. However, she doubted they would find much. Her eyes scanned the room and a small movement caused her to pivot, a swift twist of her hands freed the throwing stars in her armsheath to slip into her palm. Tollo's pet mouse, Zinny, quivered in a corner. Sha scooped him up.
"Poor little thing, I wish you could talk." Sha put Zinny on her shoulder and stepped to Tollo's body, squatting beside it. Zinny immediately burrowed into her thick black hair. She saw the fang marks in Tollo's neck – vampire or sa'necari, they both fed in that manner. Vampires fed from need and sa'necari for pleasure mainly, since their physiological requirements for blood were modest and infrequent. The fangs of each type of hemovore differed slightly. Sa'necari fangs were like needles, vampire fangs were broader with a tiny hook on the end, which tended to leave a scrape mark.
Tollo's sleeves and pants legs were torn. She flipped one dead wrist over, found more marks of feeding, and Read him. They had broken his back first and then fed. The entrails art had been done after he was dead. That was small comfort. His eyes stared sightlessly at her with an expression of horror in them. Sha sucked in a series of fortifying breaths.
"What is going on?" Aramyn's crisp voice in the hallway alerted her to his arrival. She turned Tollo's wrist back into the position she had found it in and straightened.
"I'm in here," Sha said. Of all the ones Queiggy could have sent her, Aramyn was the best. He was a cool-headed investigator, a mild-looking mon in his mid forties, clean-shaven and dark.
"Holy damnation!" Aramyn muttered, stepping into the room. "Sha, check and see if anything is missing."
Acting on instinct, Sha pulled open several cabinet drawers. "Files. All the files from thirty years ago are gone." Then she walked to the sample room and cursed in a long string at all the broken crystals on the floor, drawers turned out and thrown around, shelves pulled down and furniture smashed. "And all the tissues samples. What they didn't take, they destroyed."
Aramyn and she went through each room, finding all of them in the same condition. It made her stomach tighten. She checked her office last and started sucking air again. Written on the wall in blood was a message:
"BACK OFF, SHA!"
"I suspect that whoever did this does not like me," Sha observed wryly.
"Guess not." Aramyn shrugged. "You know what killed him? I'm assuming you've already Read the body."
"About four vampires and a sa'necari."
"We've got sa'necari in Havensword?"
"That's what I said." She replaced the throwing stars in their sheaths.
"If I were you, Sha, I'd start keeping a heavier weapon around than those stars."
"I have a couple of crossbows in my apartment."
Aramyn gave a nod. "I'd get them, if I were you."
* * * *
Galee shrieked. "You turned all four of them?"
Meilurk and his three companions stood just behind her, ready to intervene should Wrathscar and his four daughters try anything untoward. They sat in the upstairs study of Wrathscar's mansion in Havensword; Philomea, and Elomina – as always – seated upon the divan, and Darguarite and Belyla in chairs. Wrathscar's daughters averted their eyes from the scene, to stare at their hands folded precisely in their laps.
Standing in the middle, Wrathscar shrugged.
Galee caught him by the throat, slamming him against the wall of his study. "All four? What about Bryndel? You didn't touch Bryndel, did you?"
"My daughters yes. Bryndel no."
"Bryndel belongs to me." Galee scanned the room. She released him as her eyes were drawn to Belyla.
"Belyla..." Galee sauntered over to her. "You will kill your Guildsmon. He will be your first kill."
Belyla cringed and began to weep. Galee imprisoned her chin, forcing her face up. "I know the smell of consecrated blood. I will know if you did it or not. Disobey me and I will punish you for eternity. I will find him myself and kill him in front of you." Galee released her, turning to the last three. "Philomea, Elomina, Darguarite. You will come with me and we will decide who will become your first kills. But they will be made tonight. Belyla, go find your Guildsmon immediately, and do not return without his blood on your lips."
* * * *
Belyla fled to her bedroom as soon as the others left the study and threw herself down on her bed. Her father had given her her first taste of blood from a bottle days ago and, to her horror, she had liked it. She craved more, yet sorrow and fear overrode her cravings and she had not yet plunged h
er fangs into a living mon.
I have lost my child and now you intend that I lose my mate? Belyla wondered, feeling chilled. I will fight you. I won't hurt Yahni. I won't! There was blood in the house, but they had refused to let her feed once Galee discovered what she had become. Galee was determined that the only blood she received was from her Guildsmon.
"You're wanted in the study," Meilurk said from her doorway.
With dragging feet, Belyla obeyed and returned to her father's study. Her three sisters sat in their usual places. Blood splattered their clothing, rimmed their mouths, and they had expressions of satiation on their faces. Philomea licked her blood-coated fingers clean with slow sensuality.
Belyla flinched, casting her eyes on the floor.
Galee watched the way Belyla wavered and gestured at Meilurk. "Bring me one of the captives."
Belyla cowered lower into her chair. Yahni, my husband. My love.
Meilurk returned, dragging a gagged and bound male. Galee took him to Belyla. "This is how you will do it, Belyla. This is your lesson." Galee caught Belyla by the arm, pulling her close and forcing rapport. Belyla cried out at the intrusion into her mind.
< The throat, Belyla. That is the fastest way to kill them. That is how you will do it. Like this. > Galee sank her fangs into the captive who shuddered and tried to scream, but the sound could not escape the cloth.
Belyla wept, even as a sensation of intense pleasure swept through her, feeling the way the man convulsed and twitched and jerked before finally going still. She felt hungry. No. No. Not my Guildsmon.
< Damn you, Belyla! If you will not kill him quickly, at least sweep his mind away and dance him to death. I want him dead and you will do it. >
Belyla crumpled and Galee released the rapport. Then and only then did Belyla let herself think of Yahni's name and it made her hungry. Yahni, I love you. I can't. I can't.
CHAPTER SEVEN
LIES
Galee waltzed down the double line of the long tables toward her place beside the Grand Master on the dais at the head of the hall. Nearly every woman at the long tables watched her surreptitiously beneath the veils of their eyelashes or from the corners of their eyes, their expression burning with either envy or jealousy – most of them wives or sweethearts who feared her next bedroom conquest would be their nearest and dearest. Men watched her with hungry eyes, cataloging the well-displayed charms of her body. Galee's bedroom reputation grew larger with each re-telling and, as the Grand Master's principal lord-lieutenant in the Guild, she had sufficient rank to carry it off with no one hassling her about it – at least not to her face. Servants hurried around her. She spotted a brawny male pushing a beverage cart. Galee put her hand on his shoulder, briefly draping herself around him as if making a lascivious suggestion. "A little medicine with dinner. Make it black. Then a roll in the hay later?"