“My kind?” he asked.
“Yes. You are very special Thomas.”
“So by killing the guard I called forth a shade?”
“Yes,” she said.
A chill ran down his spine. “Is it dangerous?”
“Very,” she replied. “But not to you. A shade is a shedom that has not fully materialized here in the Middle Realm. It will take a great blood sacrifice to grant him his full material form. And that is what you must do if you wish to give him his full material form.”
“Why would I want to do that?” Thomas asked bewildered.
“Because, he can grant you great power. You will need him if you are to conquer and rule the Middle Realm,” she said.
“Conquer and rule the Middle Realm?” he asked, amused at the preposterousness of the statement, and he began to laugh.
“Yes. It is your destiny. And everyone will bow down before you.”
He stopped laughing. Could this shade really give him that kind of power? With power like that he could have anything he wanted—including Sarah. But Sarah was his sister. Thomas sat down and on a nearby log, setting the empty bowl on the ground at his feet and burying his face in his hands.
Lilit walked over to her son and knelt down beside him, placing a hand on his back and rubbing it gently. “She is only your half-sister,” she said as if reading his thoughts. “When you rule all, who will dare criticize your union?” she asked. Thomas lifted his face from his hands and looked at her. “And your children could be the most powerful beings in the realm once you combine your seraph bloodline.”
“I have seraph blood in me?” he asked.
“The legends are true. The royal families are all descended from seraph. You are the King’s son. His blood is your blood,” Lilit replied. Thomas nodded as he pondered the possibilities. “But you are greater than that, Thomas, for you also have shedom blood in you.”
“What?” he looked at her confused, frightened.
She stood up, straight and proud. “Your mother has the dark blood running through her veins just as your father has the light,” she said. “You are part seraph and part shedom. That makes you very powerful.”
“How powerful?” he asked.
“You will have the magic of a great wizard. A dark wizard. That is why your name means ‘dark one,’” she said.
Thomas looked at her. “Thomas does not mean ‘dark one,’” he said.
“Thomas is what your father called you. Your real name, the name you were given at your birth, is Tamesis,” she replied.
***
That evening Thomas sat alone at the edge of the woods watching the castle. From his vantage point he could see the light in Sarah’s bedroom window. He saw her dark silhouette through the thin curtains. Then he saw another. The two figures stood before each other and he watched the taller figure lean down and kiss the shorter. Thomas’ face reddened with anger as he watched Walish kiss his love and then take his leave, no doubt to bed another whore. The man was despicable and had no honor.
“Yes,” he heard a voice behind him hiss and he spun, startled, to see the dark shape of the shade lurking behind him. It also appeared to be watching Sarah’s window. “A sacrifice of blood will make you powerful indeed, My Lord,” the shade said. Thomas looked back at the castle and watched as the light in Sarah’s room was extinguished. He turned back to speak to the shade, but it had vanished. Thomas stood and crept away, back toward the swamps at the edge of town.
Thomas soon made his way behind the Dancing Drak. He pulled the hood of his olive drab cloak up over his head and walked toward the tavern and around to the front where he entered through the front door. He immediately saw Lord Walish and his brother, Davees, sitting at the same table as the night before. Leaving the hood of his cloak upon his head, Thomas took a seat closer to the door, but kept an eye on the two. Soon a barmaid came and took his order of mash. She brought it to him in a large cup and he sipped it while he watched his prey. The barmaid came back to check on him and he reached into his cloak and laid a gold sovereign on the table. The barmaid grinned through black teeth.
“I’ll do whatever you like for that, m’Lord,” she said.
Thomas smiled at her. “Good,” he said. He then produced a vial of white powder which had been given to him by his mother. “Do you see those two silk-britches over there?” he asked as he nodded toward Walish and Davees.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Place half of this powder in each of their cups the next time they order a drink and the coin is yours,” he said. The barmaid reached out and took the vial. She then reached for the coin, but Thomas snatched it away before she could grab it. “Once you have completed the job,” he said sternly. He watched as she walked away. Soon she brought Walish and Davees another round of ale and glanced up smiling at Thomas as she set the cups on the table. She made her way over to his table and he produced the coin which she took excitedly and quickly hid in a pocket sewn into the inside of her apron.
Thomas sipped his mash as he watched and waited. He saw Walish and Davees drain their cups and order another round. They both seemed to be doing fine. Did the powder work? Had the maid poured it in as instructed? He soon received his answer as Walish stood on wobbly legs. He had only had a few cups of ale, but looked extremely drunk. He made his way past Thomas to the door, presumably to relieve himself behind the tavern. Davees was not fairing much better. He took one more swig of ale and then passed out face first on the table. Thomas smiled to himself then stood and left the tavern.
Thomas walked around to the rear of the tavern where he found Walish lying on the ground unconscious. Thomas approached him, leaned over, and slapped Walish across the face, ensuring he was truly asleep. When Walish did not stir even the slightest bit, Thomas placed his ear against the lord’s chest, listening for a heart beat. He breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing one. Thomas then stood and went to retrieve Walish’s horse.
A few hours later, Walish opened his eyes. He was groggy, but he caught a whiff of smelling salts and it jerked him awake as he felt Lilit slapping his face. He was bound by hemp rope as he lay on the floor of Lilit’s cabin. Walish quickly glanced around the cabin wondering what was happening. Then he saw Thomas. He opened his dry lips to speak.
“What are you doing?” he asked Thomas in a scratchy voice.
“I am going to kill you,” Thomas said, smiling down at Walish.
Thomas saw panic in Walish’s eyes. “If you do, the King will execute you,” he stammered. “Let me go and I will forget this ever happened,” he said. Thomas laughed. He stepped over to Walish and placed the sole of his shoe against Walish’s mouth.
“Lick the mud from my shoes,” he sneered. “Lick them clean and I might be merciful.”
Walish jerked his face away and then spat at Thomas, “I am not the disgusting, boot-licking worm you are!”
Thomas’ face reddened in anger. He reached down and lifted Walish up to his knees facing the Shebath alter. He then took Walish’s own sword and held it high.
“Do it,” Lilit said. “Do it for our great dark Lord.”
“Wait, Thomas,” Walish shouted, but Thomas ignored him. With a roar, Thomas swung the sword with all of his might, lopping Walish’s head off of his shoulders. The head rolled across the floor as blood splattered across the alter.
Lilit smiled at her son. She lowered herself to her knees. “Are you there?” she asked, apparently speaking to the shade.
“Yes,” she heard the shade answer.
“We have given this sacrifice to bring you back to your material form,” she said. Then she heard a cackle and the delight on her face vanished as she looked at Thomas standing above her. She was clearly confused.
“Do you call this a sacrifice?” the shade asked in a raspy hiss. “Your son murdered a man he despised. That is no sacrifice,” the shade continued to laugh.
Thomas grew angry. He stepped over Walish’s body to stand towering above his mother. He grabbed h
er by the hair and pulled her head backward. “You said this would work,” he said.
“I-I thought it would,” she stammered.
“What do I need to do?” he asked the shade.
“You must make a true sacrifice—it must be someone you care about. It must be someone important to you if you intend for me to take full material form and assist you in achieving the greatness you are destined for.”
“And you are certain you can help me conquer the Middle Realm?” he asked.
“Yes,” the shade hissed.
Thomas looked down at his mother. He had no choice. It sickened him, but he knew what must be done. He did not want to kill her, but that was the whole point. If he did want to kill her, it would not be a sacrifice.
***
Her voice was muffled by the gag. Thomas stared down at her as she sat upon her knees, her hands bound by rope and her head covered by a sack. He reached down and snatched the sack from her head. Her eyes stared up at him. They were filled with tears. Thomas bent down and untied the gag.
“What are you doing, Thomas?” Sarah asked through whimpers as he knelt down to look her in the eyes.
“I am sorry,” he said. “All I ever wanted was you. But I cannot have you, can I?” She was so beautiful in her violet gown. She trembled.
“P-please, Thomas, d-don’t do this,” she stuttered frantically as she watched him raise the sword while sobbing so intensely that her entire body shook.
“If you had just run away with me when I asked you to, I would not have to do this,” he said.
“I will. I will run away with you now,” she promised, forcing a smile. “Whatever you want, my darling.”
He smiled at her and placed a hand on her cheek. “I wish that were true, Sarah. Please believe me when I say that I do not want to do this.”
“Then don’t do it, Thomas. We can forget all of this ever happened. Take me back to the castle and I will never speak of it to my parents or Lord Walish.”
Thomas threw back his head and cackled. Then he stared deeply into her eyes. “Lord Walish is already dead. I chopped his head off just as I am going to chop off yours.” He lifted Walish’s sword and showed her the blade, still red with her fiancé's blood. She wept uncontrollably.
“Thomas, please!” she whimpered through the tears as he stood. “Don’t do this, Thomas. I’ll do anything you want!”
“You’ll marry me?” he asked.
“Yes, of course, dearest,” she agreed, wiping away the tears as he gently stroked her hair.
“That is all I’ve ever wanted,” he said. “And that is why this is a sacrifice.” Thomas reared back and swung the sword. Her head fell from her shoulders before she could even scream as her blood splattered across the alter. A rush of air blew out the candles and Thomas heard a blood curdling cackle.
“I am whole,” the shedom hissed. Thomas looked toward the voice and saw the shape of a large black cloaked figure.
“What is your name?” Thomas asked.
“I am called Rayfen,” the shedom replied.
Thomas swallowed hard, trying to summon all of his courage. He glanced down at the headless body of his love. No, she was not his love. Thomas loved her, not him. He was Thomas no more. “You may call me, Tamesis,” he said and his mother smiled wickedly. It had begun.
Chapter 2
The sun had set behind the hills long ago and darkness filled the Great Forest. Taite stumbled her way through the brush, tripping over logs and roots, falling into holes and streams. She slowly made her way deeper into the forest until she came upon a large oak tree and sat down beside it, weary, wet and cold. Her hands were scraped and cut and her knees and legs were bruised. Her pretty green riding dress was now dirty, torn, and covered with thorns and prickles. Small scratches dotted her face where branches had grabbed and slapped at her. She leaned back against the tree and pulled her legs up close to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and laying her head down on her knees.
Taite began to cry, but fear caused her to muffle her sobs. She had been living a nightmare since the terrifying news of the fall of Riversmeet, the invasion of Avonvale, the flight from her home while pursued by hungry drakmere, and the naval chase down the river. But through all of that she had always had someone with her—her father, sister, brother, Sir Gwillym and the Royal Guard, her wolf Valko, Mr. Stark and the crew of the Vagabond. Now though, she was truly alone, in the Great Forest at night, certain that draks were searching for her and would find her any minute. If the draks did not find her then a bear, mountain lion, or hungry wolf certainly would…or worse. Her imagination began to get the better of her and she envisioned demons, shades, and other malevolent spirits lurking in the darkness, ready to snatch her up and torment her.
Taite continued to huddle under the oak tree, listening to the strange sounds of the forest, her mind transforming every rustle of leaves into a drakmere and every chirping insect into a ghost. She became so frightened that she stopped moving all together and simply sat huddled against the tree, completely still except for the uncontrolled shivering beneath her cold, wet clothes. She watched and listened to the dark forest around her as she attempted to meld into her surroundings. She jumped suddenly when the hoot of an owl startled her. Glancing up, she saw the owl glide through the trees and land on a branch of the very tree under which she hid.
The owl was about two feet tall with feathers of brown and gray, and sat perched upon the branch watching Taite as Taite watched it. After sitting still and watching the bird for a few moments, Taite summoned her courage and finally spoke. “Can you help me?” she asked the owl. “I am lost.” The owl stared at her for a long while tilting its head to the right inquisitively. “Please,” Taite added sweetly.
“Are you an elophim?” the owl asked.
“No,” Taite replied.
“Then how is it that I understand you?” the owl asked.
“I don’t know,” replied Taite. “I’ve always been able to speak to animals.” The owl appeared to consider the sufficiency of the answer for a moment and then leapt off of the tree branch fluttering down to the ground to land beside Taite.
“What kind of help do you require?” the owl asked.
Taite considered the question for a moment, unsure of how to respond. “I am running away from drakmere and I am trying to find my sister,” she said.
“I do not know where your sister is,” the owl responded. “I am afraid I cannot help you with that. Nor have I seen any drakmere. Thankfully.” The owl glanced around the woods now nervous that a drak might pop out of the bushes and eat them both.
As the owl waited and watched, Taite pondered her predicament, attempting to determine a way the owl might help her. Then she had an idea. “You’ve spoken to the elophim before?” she asked.
“Of course,” the owl replied.
“Will you take me to them?”
The owl considered the request for just a moment before replying. “Yes,” it said, glad it could help the child. “Follow me,” and it flapped its wings lifting itself from the ground and flying off through the trees. Taite leapt to her feet and scrambled after it.
Taite followed the owl for a couple of hours, moving slowly in the dark. Though her eyes were well adjusted now and she was getting a better feel for the terrain, it was still difficult moving. The owl soared too quickly through the trees, finding it difficult to fly slow enough for the little girl to keep up. The owl was forced to stop and wait repeatedly, or backtrack when it realized that it had left Taite far behind.
The owl sat high in a tree branch watching Taite make her way slowly through the forest, when it heard the loud snap of a stick. It jerked its head up and noticed the brush moving behind them. Something big was coming. “Keep going, I’ll be right back,” it called to Taite and then flew off of the branch and soared toward the movement. The owl landed again on a tree branch near the location where it had seen the brush moving when, to its horror, it spotted four or five drakmere stalking thr
ough the forest, their snouts held high, sniffing the air. The owl quickly realized that the draks had picked up Taite’s scent, and were pursuing them.
The owl dashed from the branch and flew back toward Taite, landing on the ground near her. “Hurry!” it cried.
“I’m moving as fast as I can,” she replied. “I cannot see in the dark like you,remember.”
“Drakmere are coming!” the owl hooted at her.
Taite’s eyes went wide with terror and she quickly glanced over her shoulder. She could not see the draks, but did not doubt the owl’s word. She began to run as fast as she could, branches slapping at her. The owl flapped its great wings and flew back up into the air, gliding ahead of Taite as she tripped and stumbled through the woods. “Keep running!” it told her as it circled back to see how close the draks were.
The owl backtracked, but did not have to go very far. The draks, nocturnal predators by nature, were having little trouble moving through the darkness and had closed the gap with Taite significantly. They would catch up with her very soon. The owl circled around again and flew to Taite as fast as it could. It flew up into the sky to scout the area. There was no way the little girl was going to outrun the drakmere and the owl wanted to find a hiding place for her. It soon discovered one—just twenty yards or so to her right in a hollow tree. The owl dove back down toward Taite and whooshed around her head. “Follow me!” it cried as it circled her. The owl then flapped its wings flying toward the hollow tree as Taite trailed behind, running as fast as her little legs could manage.
The owl fluttered down to the ground, landing in front of the hollow tree. When Taite reached it the owl turned its head toward the tree. “Hide inside,” the owl instructed. Taite saw the hollow in the trunk, ran over to it and ducked down climbing inside. The owl flew up into the branches and waited, watching from its perch.
Taite sat perfectly still inside the tree allowing bugs and spiders to crawl over her and through her hair and a small green lizard to scurry across her boot. She held still as she was much more terrified of the draks than bugs and tiny lizards. It was not long, however, before Taite heard the branches rustling. Soon, a group of drakmere stepped into view, their snouts held high as they sniffed the air. The leader spied the tree and crossed over to it, dropping to all fours and peering inside the hole in the trunk. Taite held back a scream as she saw its yellow eyes staring at her. Suddenly, the drak shot its left arm into the tree grabbing Taite and causing the girl to squeal as the monster’s massive claw closed around her waist and jerked her out. “There you are!” it hissed at her.
Dragon's Keep: The Complete Dracengard Series Page 31