Blood of the Delphi (The Harmatia Cycle Book 2)

by M. E. Vaughan

  How she would make her excuses to go to Sigel’eg she wasn’t yet sure, but Béatrice was confident an idea would come to her by dawn.

  “Didn’t I tell you not sex my body while I was shut-eyed?” Aeron demanded furiously, looking down at Emerald, who was curled, half-naked, around him.

  “You lie in my bed, you become my pillow,” was her easy reply. “Besides—you were startin’ to smell. Thought I’d get one last night in, before I tossed you out.”

  “Bone-rapist,” Aeron grumbled, stretching his stiff limbs. Few humans could claim to know the ache of rigor mortis, but Aeron was increasingly accustomed to it.

  Emerald stroked a hand down his chest. “You aren’t so different animated.”

  “Now you’re just puttin’ salt on the slug.” Aeron closed his eyes. He was exhausted. He’d been trained from a young age to withstand great tortures, but Nicnivin was difficult to please. For the information she gave, she’d demanded immediate payment in a form that was unbefitting of her choice of currency.

  “Did she drain you?” Emerald asked, rolling so that she was atop Aeron. Even though no physical bones in his body had been broken, he felt as if his pelvis was shattered, and hips cracked in two.

  “Rah.” Aeron tried to push Emerald off, but was unable to lift his arms off the bed.

  “Better’ve been worth the price.”

  “It wasn’t a pit.” Aeron coughed. “I sexed out what I needed. Merle is up on the spattered peaks of the Neve, still pulsin’. For now.”

  “Ooh,” Emerald said, almost sounding impressed. “That’s a trek and a half.” She poked Aeron hard in the stomach. His body was rejecting his shattered soul, and every sensation was painful beyond belief. “I can’t imagine you’ll be makin’ it any time soon.”

  “I’ll recover, and when I do…” Aeron paused and took a long sniff of the air. “Did I golden arc my flowers down south?”

  “What?” Emerald sat up and Aeron looked down.

  “Did I piss myself?”

  “Oh. Yes. Several times.”

  “Piss-pox and plagues.” The assassin allowed his head to fall back against the pillow. “The lashes I take for that whoopsie-basher…I’m lickin’ to give him a good skull-thrust for this.”

  “I thought the Unseelie Queen tired you out.” Emerald retook her position at his side, unmindful of how painful her extra weight was. “But I suppose it’s anythin’ that screams and fights back with you, isn’t it?”

  “At least mine pulses.”

  “Mine don’t complain.”

  “Mine can brain what I’m doing to them.”

  “Mine don’t leave a mess.”

  “I don’t leave a mess.” Aeron looked down at her, his brow lowered.

  “Hah! Says the man who’s been pissin’ blood on himself like a nervous dog for days now.” She patted his stomach. “There, there—I changed the baby, don’t cry.”

  “Baby’s kidneys feel like they’re leechin’ his spine,” was the gargled response. “I’ve been dead too long—Nicnivin was thorough. I need to recover.”

  “Want me to send a message to Lemra?”

  “Rah.” Aeron coughed again, the taste metallic. “Tell’em Merle’s still twitchin’ and that I’ll get to him and the boy quick enough.”

  “S’no rush—the alchemists aren’t huntin’ him anymore. The world thinks he’s dead,” Emerald said. “Your work’s as good as done.”

  “I couldn’t give a head-screw ’bout the alchemists—bunch of unplucked griffons swingin’ wooden swords. It’s Morrigan who’s playing the lute now.”

  “You honestly think Nicnivin is just plannin’ to let Morrigan do what she wants?”

  “Nicnivin will sit, spread on her throne without a lip-bite, for a thousand beats if she gets her way, and Morrigan knows all about Embarrette being Niamh’s little spy. It’s not a power struggle—it’ll be a clean exchange.” Aeron tried to twitch his fingers, checking that none of his appendages had become paralysed in his absence. “This is danker than we thought. If Merle succumbs to Morrigan’s lust, we’re all through.” Aeron closed his eyes and gave a lazy sigh. “And on that note, sew your mouth. I’m blinkin’ off.”

  “Baby still smells.”

  “Baby’ll throttle you in a minute.”

  “Baby’s welcome to try.” Emerald kissed his brow. “Sleep.”

  Aeron grunted and drifted into a satisfyingly sexless slumber.

  “Rufus.” Fae tapped the top of his book, tipping it down so she could see his face. “It’s time.”

  “Alright.” Rufus nodded, snapping his book shut and standing with a great air of authority. “Sweet Athea—what’s that?” he gasped, pointing over Fae’s shoulder. Fae looked around, and Rufus darted away, fleeing for the door.

  Quick as a lightening, Fae hooked two fingers into his collar and dragged him back. “Try to think of them as my parents rather than the Lord and Lady of the Neve,” she suggested as he whimpered, trying to wriggle free.

  “Fae,” Rufus ceased his struggling, “the first time I met you, you single-handedly faced off a group of vicious bandits and then tried to throttle me to death. I beseech you—consider carefully the wholeheartedly remarkable and petrifying impression you have left on me, and then multiply it by two, and you’ll have some idea how I feel about meeting your parents.”

  Fae laughed and pulled him along, looping her arm through his. “You have faced Korrick and Reilly. My parents actually welcomed you into the Neve. You have nothing to fear from them.”

  “I always fear the people I respect. It’s why I’m terrified of you.”

  Fae snorted. “Your flattery won’t get you out of this, my lowly lord.”

  “I had to try.”

  They walked together down the corridor, arm in arm, and Fae could feel by the sureness of his grip that Rufus was glad she was with him. Kathel by reputation was intimidating enough among both Seelie and Unseelie Courts, but to a Magi, the prospect of an audience must have been terrifying.

  As they walked, Fae felt a tingle down the back of her neck. She looked over her shoulder to spot her younger brother Eadoin watching them from a long way down the hall. Fae met his gaze, and he narrowed his eyes and sneered with disgust, turning and marching away.

  Fae sighed.

  “One of your brothers?”

  “Eadoin—yes. He and his twin Arton were once very close to me.”

  “They still resent you for bringing me here?” Rufus asked softly, and Fae tried to appear nonchalant. As willing as she was to bear the consequence of her actions, she’d grown tired of the cold reception from everyone in the Neve. Should Rufus’s meeting with her parents go well, Fae hoped that her brothers would start to veer more toward the opinion of their father and mother, than Reilly, who’d done everything in his power to stir trouble.

  “They don’t know you.” Fae squeezed Rufus’s hand. “And perhaps they have forgotten me a little.”

  Fae led Rufus down into one of the inner gardens. It was a quiet little sanctuary away from the training grounds, where a large fountain bubbled, and an array of flowers had begun to push through, attracting bees and butterflies.

  There, her mother and father sat together on a marble bench, hand in hand, their shoulders lightly touching. Rufus faulted in his step, and Fae saw his eyes dart over the pair, analysing them.

  Her parents had done Rufus the courtesy of not carrying any weapons with them. Indeed, neither were even wearing armour, dressed comfortably instead, her father in a tunic, and her mother in a long white dress. Fae was surprised to see that her mother’s long, pale hair had even been released from its usual plait, and was curled slightly, cascading down her back and shoulders. Both parents were smiling.

  They weren’t alone either—Kael and Joshua were with them already, deep in conversation. Kathel looked up as they approached, his green eyes sparkling.

  “Ah—my eldest daughter and our honoured Magi guest.” He ushered them forward, and Fae felt oddly reliev
ed at his warm reception. “Allow me to introduce my wife, Saraid.”

  Rufus bowed deeply. “It’s an honour to make your acquaintance.”

  “It is we who are honoured.” Saraid bowed her own head, and Fae watched for her mother’s reaction. Kathel might have approved of Rufus, but Saraid’s opinion almost mattered more. Saraid smiled, but there was a quiet reservation in her eyes. “My daughter has spoken very highly of you.”

  “I can’t imagine why.” Rufus gave Fae a sidelong glance, and Fae realised that she’d grown as still as him. It hadn’t occurred to her that she might be as nervous about the introduction as Rufus was.

  “Rufus.” Joshua bounced up, his face bright. “You remember Kael, don’t you?”

  “Ah yes—the renegade from the tree. How do you do, Kael? You’ve been taking care of my brother, I hear. You have my thanks.” Rufus lowered himself to his knees so that he was at eye-level with Kael. Kael eyed him shyly, and then came forward and accepted his hand, shaking it. Fae spotted her mother give a slim smile of approval, and felt a flare of triumph.

  “You look just like your sister,” Rufus noted to Kael, who flashed a big smile up at Fae, pleased by the comment.

  “One day, I’ll be even better than her,” she announced. Fae scoffed as Rufus peered around, his eyebrows raised.

  “You have a rival.”

  “Don’t I know it?” Fae seized Kael and pulled the girl onto her lap. Kael giggled and then settled against Fae, though at eight years old, and near Joshua’s size, she was really getting far too big. Sometimes Fae wished that Cat Sidhe children didn’t grow so fast.

  “I must say, Lord Merle—” Kathel began, but was interrupted.

  “Rufus, please,” Rufus implored, taking a seat beside Fae, Joshua coming to sit on his other side. “I’m far from being a lord here.”

  “Rufus,” Kathel corrected. He’d always liked humble men. “You seem much recovered. Both you, and the Prince.”

  “Your hospitality has ensured a speedy recovery.” Rufus bowed his head again, and Fae chuckled to herself. He was going to get a stiff neck.

  “I doubt that’s the key to it,” Kathel dismissed. “You are a resilient man, by all accounts. Combining that with the skills of the Physician Dacey, and my daughter’s controversial methods of comfort, you look much better than when I last saw you.” Kathel fought back a smile. “Raving like a madman.”

  “Yes,” Rufus laughed nervously. “I apologise for that.”

  “No need,” Kathel chuckled. “My days as a soldier have long passed, and I have spent the last century on this mountain top, very happily with my wife.” He patted Saraid’s knee. “That being said, when you live as long as we do, life can get fairly repetitive. Your arrival caused something of an unexpected stir, and I confess to being quite excited by what may follow.”

  “Rufus causes a stir wherever he goes,” Joshua said proudly.

  “Don’t say that, you’ll make them think I’m a trouble-maker,” Rufus begged playfully.

  “You are a trouble-maker.” Fae shrugged and Rufus gave her a helpless look. Fae laughed at his expression, and then quickly caught herself as she became aware that both of her parents were watching her carefully. She’d been so focused on seeing their reactions to Rufus, she’d forgotten that she, too, would be watched.

  “There are many stories about you, Rufus,” Saraid said. “We’ve heard tales throughout the land of a man imbued with extraordinary powers.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard them too,” Rufus said. “A lot of nonsense for the most part—that I can control the weather, eat men alive, and that I’m a necromancer who bathes in the blood of children,” he said dramatically, giving Joshua and Kael a ghoulish look and making them giggle.

  “I have a question for you.” Saraid sat forward, and Fae felt her heart grow still. Her mother’s blue eyes were intense and focused, as any interrogator. “Tell me, why are you trying to change the world?”

  Rufus blinked, taken aback. “I’m not sure that I am.”

  “But you are,” Saraid insisted, her tone firm. Her expression was serious. “Harmatia brought their Prince back from the dead and crowned him, and now you are the figurehead of a revolution that will affect the whole continent.”

  Rufus frowned deeply. “It’s Harmatian politics.”

  “Harmatia is entangled with Bethean and Kathra, who are in turn nations tied to Avalon and countries over the sea. Your revolution will cause ripples throughout all.”

  Rufus didn’t speak a while, pondering. He exchanged a look with Joshua before finally replying, “You’re right. Our actions will have a great effect beyond Harmatia, and I have no way of knowing what the full repercussions of that could be. All I know is that we are fighting for the freedom of our people, and can only do what we believe to be right.”

  Saraid settled back, seemingly unimpressed by his response. “That is an arrogant game.”

  “It’s a human game,” Rufus replied. “We have a saying in the Magi: brothers fight, we even kill, but against a common foe, we will unite. I believe that of the people of Harmatia, and of Bethean and Kathra.”

  “Then who is your common foe?”

  “Tyranny.” Rufus exchanged another look with Joshua who nodded his head in agreement.

  Saraid clasped her hands together. “Then your war is idealistic?”

  “Idealistic implies that it’s unattainable, and perhaps if we consider it wholly, it may appear so.” Rufus held her gaze steadily. “All I know, is that the foundation of Harmatia was built on an alliance between the Delphi and Harmatians. King Thestian married Éliane of the Delphi to unify the two families once and for all. Joshua is the final product of that—the son of the founding families, and the rightful heir.”

  “So it is lineage that makes your cause right?”

  “No, but lineage gives it power.” Rufus shrugged. “What makes our cause right is that a dead man is ruling Harmatia, and he’s doing it badly.”

  Fae snorted, and Saraid’s eyes snapped to her daughter. Fae disguised the sound, looking away innocently.

  “And you think this boy will do better?” Saraid gestured to Joshua, her voice now more curious than accusatory.

  “Saraid,” Kathel appealed, “is this interrogation really necessary?”

  “I am curious,” Saraid said. “I want to know what manner of people my daughters have befriended. I have met revolutionaries before. I want to know what they think marks them as any different.”

  “I’ll be a better ruler than my brother, Sverrin,” Joshua spoke up, his voice quiet but firm, “because I am willing to be challenged. Sverrin doesn’t realise the damage he causes, because he hides behind a wall of courtiers who justify his tyranny, and punishes those who disagree with him. His trade restrictions, his suffocating tax have left the poorest of my people with nothing—no money, or food, or hope. They’re starving, but if Sverrin can’t see them, why should he believe or care about their suffering?” Joshua dropped his gaze, and in an instant he looked more like Jionat than Fae had ever seen. There was something sad in Joshua’s wisdom. “If there’s anything my brothers have taught me, it’s that the greatness of a ruler is not measured in the ability to swing a sword, but in the ability to seek truth, and heed the advice of others. It is good to be decisive, but it is better still be decisive and informed.

  “I’m only a boy, I know, and I’m not ready to rule yet, but my life has been devoted to learning how. I know it won’t be easy, but we—together—have to try and be better than our forefathers, otherwise how can we hope for anything to ever change?” Joshua looked up at Rufus, and his brother’s expression was filled with a fierce pride.

  Fae felt it too, welling up inside of her—she couldn’t speak for the King of Harmatia, or Éliane of the Delphi, but she knew that Jionat would have been immensely proud of Joshua for his wise words.

  “Well, Saraid?” Kathel smiled, looking at his wife.

  Saraid settled back onto the bench, apparently satisfi
ed. “I think I understand why Fae is so taken by you both,” she decreed. “You have raised a profound little boy, Rufus.”

  “I can take no credit for that.” Rufus ruffled Joshua’s hair, the Prince batting away his hand.

  “I rather think you can,” Saraid smiled knowingly, “for the son will echo the philosophy of the father.”

  “And also the ambition,” Kathel put in, “which is good—young people should be ambitious. We should never settle just for what we are—it is life’s meaning to strive for better.” Kathel looked past Rufus to Fae, who squirmed at the unspoken implication of his words. Rufus caught the exchange, and Fae saw him frown deeply.

  “Father,” Kael interrupted them, “Korrick will be expecting us back. He’s going to teach us how to kill a man with our bare hands today.”

  “Well,” Rufus said tightly, Joshua jumping to his feet, “we wouldn’t want to get into the way of that…”

  “Go on then,” Saraid leant forward to kiss her youngest daughter as she ran past, “and see to it Korrick does not work you too hard, or else I will have words with him. He is not yet too old to be scolded by his mother.”

  Kael giggled, waiting for Joshua, who bowed respectfully to Kathel and Saraid before running after his friend. As the children disappeared, Kathel and Saraid also rose.

  “Thank you for meeting us, Rufus,” Kathel said. “This has been an informative discussion—I should be glad to continue it some time.”

  “If I might,” Rufus also stood, his hands twisted nervously into his chemise. “I owe you a debt of gratitude, and I owe one, even greater, to your daughter.” He swallowed as Fae also stood slowly. “She saved my life, in more ways than one. I know that my presence here has caused her some difficulties in the Neve—”

  “Rufus, you don’t—” Fae tried to interject, but Rufus continued.

  “I’m conscious of it. When we first met, your daughter had no reason to trust me, and yet she’s now the greatest of my friends. Her sacrifice, her nobility,” again, Rufus caught her eye, and smiled softly, “her abundance of kindness…Without her, I don’t want to know who I would’ve been. She’s an inspiration to me, and I can only imagine how immeasurably proud you must be of her.”