Lady Pallon showed no sign of being unnerved, much to Ebudae’s internal dismay. “You enjoyed it. I’m not surprised, you evil little horror.” She leaned forward threateningly. “And is that how you plan on killing me?”
Dread trickled throughout Ebudae’s body. Her grandmother knew what was in her mind. She knew that Ebudae sat alone in her suite and dreamed of ways to kill her. There was no answer.
“No doubt you have imagined too many methods of killing me to decide which one to use,” The woman said with a wicked smile, hitting the truth once again. She took a sip of her tea. “You’ve already turned into a killer so I imagine my days are numbered. You’ll probably sit in my blood and lick it off your fingers like you do when you prick yourself on the rose thorns.”
Ebudae shrieked in blind fury. Everything in her vision had become red and all she could think about was escaping this terrible woman. She crouched forward with her hands in front of her like claws. The urge to kill her grandmother was as strong as it had ever been, but she just couldn’t.
“Go ahead. Kill me, you little monster.” The words came in a singsong voice.
For some reason, it jolted Ebudae out of her fury. The young lady sat down, took a sip of her own tea and glared at her grandmother. Her hand was shaking from a glut of emotions, causing tea to spill on her dress. “Why don’t you just have me married off, Grandmother? I’m sure you’d like to find a nice man to tame me.” The words came out of her mouth dripping with derision.
“Because I don’t want you to have children.” Lady Pallon set her tea on the table and glared back. “I didn’t want your mother to have children either, but she insisted on leaving a horrid little monster on my doorstep and most likely laughed as she skipped away.”
Lady Pallon stood and swept the teacup off the table, sending it crashing to the stone path between the plants. “Melody knew I wanted this family to die!” It was one of only a few times the woman had ever used her daughter’s name in front of Ebudae. She bared her teeth. “This family is evil and has been ever since it was spawned from the pits of Hell. You are the last of this family and I will not have you breed!” Lady Pallon came over and stuck a bony finger in Ebudae’s face. “You are the most evil of them all.” She came so close their noses nearly touched. “I wish I had killed you when you were a babe, but now you have grown into the murderer that I knew you would become and soon you’ll kill me instead. I hate you, you horrible little monster!” The words went from a hiss to a screech as the old woman condemned Ebudae.
The accusations terrified Ebudae. Everything began to spin in her mind and she just wanted to hide. The dreadful old woman screaming at her was filled with more vile and hatred than the girl had ever known. ‘Perhaps she should have killed me. I am evil.’ The thoughts scratched against the inside of her mind, clawing away at her will to live.
Lady Pallon turned back to her seat, so Ebudae darted out of the chair and ran. No voice called after her as she burst out of the observatory into the grand hallway and onto the stairs. Her breath escaped her and spots formed in her vision as she desperately climbed. Halfway to the third floor, she tripped and slammed her chin into a step. Blood formed in her mouth as she scrabbled to her feet. The dragon mark on her back was hot again.
Ebudae didn’t remember the rest of the dash to her suite. She slammed the door shut and stood against it while gulping air. The entire universe was spinning around her and she couldn’t stop it. Stumbling sideways, she made her way to her bedroom and closed its door.
It only took her a second to reach the bed and she crawled across it to the drawer in the nightstand on the other side. Her silver dagger was there and she pulled it out.
Normally, she would carefully cut across the skin of her arm, but she couldn’t control it this time. Ebudae gashed through the sleeve of her dress to draw blood. Primal screams ripped from her throat as she gashed again and again, but the universe wouldn’t stop spinning. It wouldn’t stop circling around her and she was getting lost in the stars and the darkness.
Blood soaked her sleeve and she tried to cut deliberately with the shaking knife. It wasn’t working so she gashed again. Her entire body shook and rasping breaths between the screams weren’t enough to satisfy her lungs.
With another shriek, Ebudae stabbed the knife deep into the soft flesh of her thigh. It hurt enough to slow the spinning. She pulled it out and stabbed again, silent this time. The spinning stopped. Black and white spots filled her vision and her back was hot and tingling. The only color in the room was the deep red of her blood. She pulled the knife out and held it to her chest as she lay back on the bed.
Darkness enveloped her.
Chapter 11
Pelya didn’t want to leave her friend all alone with Lady Pallon. The way the old woman was staring at her granddaughter was wicked and hateful. Gilron and Bava were responsible for Pelya though, and she was required to do as they say. At that point, Pelya was too tired to argue. Her father and Ebudae were equally important to her.
“We can take my carriage,” Sir Imbra suggested with a gesture to the vehicle as they walked out of the gate.
“We don’t mind walking,” Bava replied. “It’s normal in the guard.”
“I mind a little. My back isn’t what it used to be.” Gilron leaned back and stretched.
“The young lass is exhausted.” Sir Imbra indicated Pelya. “It would be cruel to make her walk.”
“Alright then,” Bava said with arms folded and narrowed eyes. “We’ll ride. It’ll give her time to explain what she was doing.”
“I’d rather walk,” Pelya mumbled as she climbed into the carriage and sat in the same seat as before. She was surprised when Sir Imbra came in next and sat beside her. He gave her an encouraging pat on the leg as they both rested swords on their laps. The knight’s was so long that it rested on both of theirs and Pelya took the opportunity to admire the ornate scrollwork on the sheath although she was careful not to touch it.
“It was touched by Reanna and blessed with her divine power,” the knight said while the other two sat across from them, also putting swords in laps. “The enchantments on it are too numerous to mention, but it’s quite an effective tool, in addition to being an excellent blade.”
“It’s beautiful,” Pelya said, running her fingers down the length without actually touching it. There were designs of suns, trees, and mountains intertwined between knotted scrollwork. She recognized magical runes combined with all of it as well. Many swords had magic, but when the sheath also had runes, it indicated a powerful weapon.
“That’s all very nice, but it’s time for Pelya to tell us where she was last night,” Bava persisted, not willing to let it slide. Sir Imbra didn’t protest, but he did keep the sword across their laps. He then took her hands and placed them on it. When she touched it, her resolve strengthened and it acted like a shield in a way she couldn’t describe.
“Ebudae and I made some friends at Carnival the day before yesterday. We went back yesterday. Some of their friends came by and said that a man was missing. That man was one of our new friends’ brother.”
“You’re leaving out names, Pelya,” Gilron noticed. “That’s not like you.”
A sob broke free. “I broke the law, Uncle Gilron. I think I have to go to jail.”
“Even if you killed everyone in the High Council I wouldn’t let that happen, lass” Gilron said with a reassuring smile. “You can leave the names out, but tell us what happened.”
“You wouldn’t? But I have to obey the law,” Pelya insisted. It was inconceivable that the weaponmaster would ever let her get away with even bending a law.
“You’re the most honest and law-abiding person I know and that includes every member of the guard and Sir Sunshine here,” Gilron said. The knight chuckled in amusement. “You take the law seriously and if you broke it, I’m certain you had a good reason for doing so.”
Pelya just frowned at him, not comprehending.
“What he’s saying is
that sometimes the law interferes with justice and right,” Bava explained. “In those instances, law can become evil.”
“Tis true,” Sir Imbra surprisingly agreed. “By law, no one is allowed under the city for any reason, yet my companions and I go down there frequently to battle evil.” He leaned into her. “I follow the law wherever it does not interfere with my divine duty, which is greater than any mortal bindings others may attempt to cast upon me.” Then the knight patted her leg and sat back again.
Pelya still didn’t get it. Following the law was supposed to be everything and she had never broken it other than going down into the ruins and picking locks, which was an approved skill in the guard. She couldn’t stop from finally crying and just buried her face in her hands and let loose. In a way, she didn’t even know what reason she was crying for anymore. It just seemed like the thing to do.
“Oh dear. This is not going well at all,” Sir Imbra said. He put an arm around her shoulders and she leaned over and cried into his.
Bava sighed and looked out the window while the commander raised his eyebrows in confused amusement.
A few minutes later, they reached the fortress that served as the Dralin City Guard headquarters, barracks and training compound. It housed over four thousand guard members and was a district in and of itself. A general who sought to overthrow wizard rule in the city had built it. After the failed attack, his soldiers became the City Guard. Centuries later, they were still some of the best trained. They had to be in a city so sinister.
Each thirty-foot thick wall of the eight-sided district had two gates, one for people to walk through and a double gate for wagons. The carriage entered the west gate after Gilron stared at the lieutenant who opened the door to look inside. Everybody knew the commander and nobody was ever stupid enough to create a problem for him.
The carriage stopped in a small courtyard near a stable area. Young recruits came out to care for the horses under the driver’s watchful eye. Commander Coodmur led everyone into the headquarters. Pelya was relieved that they hadn’t made her talk about the previous night even if she felt like a fool for crying in front of them.
Headquarters was a large building with countless uniformed clerks sitting behind desks. Many of those desks were in large common areas while others were in offices with higher-ranking specialists. Citizens of the city came to beg for help or justice. The biggest department was for missing persons. More people disappeared in the city of Dralin than in any country. The population never decreased because there were always more people moving in from every direction. Pelya’s father complained about the fact a lot.
His disappearance was beginning to sink in. Whether he hated her or not, Pelya’s father was the one thing in the world she could cling to without having to be brave. Gilron led them through hallways and into a strategy room, one of many where difficult or important cases were gone over by teams.
“Pelya! Where is your father?” Sergeant Gorman came forward and wrapped her up in a big hug. Gorman, Gilron and her father were the three men who protected Pelya the most. Anyone who had a problem with her had to go through them first and they were three very dangerous men.
“I don’t know, Uncle. I haven’t seen him.” Pelya looked around at the room. There were maps of the city and sewers along all the walls. A guardsman stood over one of the two tables that had documents spread out, studying the information. A guardswoman sat at a desk looking into a large book filled with more maps. “Is all this for Daddy?” Pelya asked in alarm.
“Hmm?” Gorman looked around. “No. No, this is for another case I’m working on. I have an agent coming in to help with finding your father . . . and here he is.”
A short man dressed in black slipped in behind them. Even Sir Imbra seemed surprised by the sudden appearance. “Hello Gorman,” the man said in tones as oily as his dark hair. “You said it was urgent? . . .” He flicked a glance at Pelya.
“Very urgent. You’ve probably heard of Pelya.” Gorman gestured toward her.
“Yes. I’ve heard of all of them. Are you going to introduce us?” the agent asked with a raised eyebrow. Pelya didn’t trust him. He kept his grey eyes partially shut as though refusing to let anyone see them. Even though he was standing nearby, the man acted as though he was hiding.
“No. I’m not going to introduce you,” Gorman said. “But we need information. Pelya’s father is missing and I need to know where he might have gone.”
“I’m guessing you’re going to have him try to find Frath?” Bava asked. Pelya could see that she didn’t trust the man either.
Gorman shook his head and leaned against the one of the tables. “No. I had him follow Frath a while back because I worry about him when he disappears.” He looked seriously at Pelya. “Your father is my best friend in this world. He never tells me where he goes, so I took precautions.”
“Alright.” Pelya didn’t like it, but she did understand it. At that moment, she was thankful for his foresight.
Gorman turned back to the agent. “So where does he go?”
The man looked nervous. He bit his lip and remained silent.
“Where does he go?” Gorman asked again. He frowned and moved forward from the table. “When you followed him, where did he go?”
“I . . . I don’t know.” He guiltily looked at his feet. It was an expression that seemed out of place on the otherwise confident man.
“What do you mean you don’t know?!” Gorman sputtered and grabbed the man by the shoulders. “He’s missing! We need to find him and you said you know where he went.” The man said nothing, continuing to stare at his feet instead. Pelya could see that his face was pale. Gorman threw his hands in the air. “You did follow him, didn’t you?”
“Well, yeah. I mean I tried to follow him.” The man put his arms out to the sides helplessly.
“Tried? You’re the best. Frath is tall and broad, not the hardest sort of target to keep track of.” Gorman leaned back against the table again and crossed his arms. “So what happened?”
“Well, I thought it would be easy. Like you said, he’s easy to see.” The man walked over to a large map of Dralin on the wall and pointed. “Here’s the Guard District. If he’s not spending time with Pelya after his shift, he goes out for a walk, leaving through a different gate each time.”
“I’ve noticed that too,” Pelya said. “I’ve asked him about it and he told me that life should be explored in every direction.” She shrugged. “He says a lot of stuff like that. Daddy’s weird, but he’s very wise.” She gave everyone a challenging look in case they considered disagreeing. Luckily, none of them was so foolish.
The agent stared at her for a minute before shaking his head and turning back to the map. “Right. Now it varies as to where he goes. Sometimes he’ll sit at an inn for hours just staring at people. Other times he’ll go to one of the main highways coming into the city and he’ll stare at people.”
“Yeah, yeah. He likes to stare at people,” Gorman said, waving for him to get to the point. “It’s creepy, but we all know he does it.”
“So sometimes he comes back after just staring for a while, but sometimes he disappears.” The man folded his arms and glared at the map.
“Disappears like with magic or he gives you the slip?” Bava asked.
He turned his glare to Bava. “Nobody ever gives me the slip . . . except him. I’d swear he has something or someone protecting him from being followed.” He closed his eyes and collected his thoughts.
“What do you mean something’s protecting him?” Gilron asked in curiosity.
“It’s just a feeling. The first few times it happened, I thought I had just become overconfident and sloppy. I’d be following him. He’d turn down a corner and I’d see his shape walking down the street or alley. Then he would just be gone.”
Gorman frowned and rubbed his chin. “Maybe that would happen once, but I know your abilities and it would never happen a second time.”
“I became more aggressive in
my following, taking risks I wouldn’t normally. That’s when things began to go very wrong.” The agent began pacing. “Frath took to the roofs one night. I thought I was on to something, but I only saw his silhouette once up there. Then I fell off a roof.”
“What?!” Gorman exclaimed.
“I fell off a roof.” It was obviously embarrassing to him. “One minute there was roof under me, the next it was gone. It was a low-hanging roof, but I fell. Only time it’s ever happened to me.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. Was it rainy or snowing or something?” Gorman was confused.
“No. It was nighttime, but not too dark. I didn’t slip. I walked off of it.” His cheeks were red by that point. “Then it got worse.”
“Worse than you walking off a low-hanging roof?” Gorman raised an eyebrow.
“Shut up. Do you want to hear the rest or not?” The agent jabbed a finger in Gorman’s chest and stared him in the face. He had to stand on his tiptoes to do it.
“Yeah, yeah. Go on.”
The agent stepped back to the map and smacked it with the back of his hand. “He doesn’t go in the same direction when I lose him. It’s always someplace new.” He pointed to a section of map in the south. “The next time I followed, we were somewhere around here a short distance away from the South Warehouse District. There are some stores of magical items there. It’s not really in any district and the stuff isn’t very good.” He shrugged.
“I know the place,” Bava said. “There’re a lot of smuggled magics and poisons including polluted mixes there. It’s bad news.”
“Yeah. There’re also a lot of murders that happen.” The agent sighed in exasperation and leaned against the map. “I walked into the middle of one. Four guys were stabbing a fifth. I ran into the back of one of those guys.”
“You walked off a roof and the next night you walked into someone’s back while they’re committing murder? I’m getting worried about you.” Gorman moved forward to take a closer look at him. When he put a hand on the man’s forehead checking for fever, the man slapped his arm away and ducked to the side.
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