Hothgar’s eyes narrowed. “He didn’t lie about the hound.”
Bael growled, a low, inhuman sound that sent an icy shiver dancing up Ursula’s neck. Was the real Bael under there somewhere, buried beneath the feral rage?
Hothgar laid his hands flat on the granite table. “Is there anything else you’ve been keeping from us, Abrax?”
Abrax cocked his head. “No, there is nothing else.”
Liar! Ursula wanted to scream. Should she tell them what she knew now?
Hothgar’s eyes narrowed, and his lips flattened into a line. “Are you sure there is nothing else you’d like to confess?”
Abrax stood with his hands in his pockets, perfectly relaxed. “I may have indulged in a few too many gin and tonics last night. Is that the sort of thing you’re looking for? In my defense, they were made with Harris gin and a hint of coriander. Nearly impossible to resist overindulging, as I’m sure you’d agree.”
Hothgar’s lip curled. “Bring out the other prisoner!”
The guards around Abrax drew their swords, pointing them at his throat, but he never shifted from his relaxed posture. The doors slammed open again, and the guards dragged in another prisoner. Just as with Bael, this prisoner wore ragged clothes and a black hood. Not as large as Bael, but struggling just as hard against his bonds. The guards shoved him until he stood a few feet from Bael.
Kester.
When the guard pulled the hood off his head, Ursula stared back at her green-eyed friend, a rag stuffed into his mouth and tied behind his head.
Every powerful ally she had was now in this room, chained up as prisoners. And one of them was raging with bloodlust.
Well, this is a pretty little mess we’ve got ourselves into.
Chapter 6
“Remove the gag. I want to hear what he has to say,” said Hothgar.
The guard drew a short knife from a scabbard on his belt. With a dexterous flourish that belied his impressive girth, he sliced Kester’s gag.
Kester spat the rag onto the floor.
“Who are you?” asked Hothgar.
Kester glared at the hoary-faced demon. “You know who I am.”
Hothgar loosed a sigh. “For the rest of the room.”
“I am Kester.” His voice boomed over the hall. “Hound of Emerazel.”
Hothgar pointed at him. “In fact, he is the one they call the Headsman. He is the one who slew Innas the Black, the one who carved out Bothrop’s eye, the one who murdered Vesper the last succubus of Maremount.” Chatter buzzed among the demon lords before Hothgar held up his hands to quiet the room. “And, do you know where he’s been for the last month? He’s been a prisoner in Abrax’s manor. The incubus has been holding him captive. A prize such at this should be shared. Each lord should carve a piece of his flesh.”
Ursula’s stomach tightened into knots. Well, that does not sound wonderful for us.
A hush fell over the room. Hothgar’s outstretched finger moved to point at Abrax. “He has hoarded the greatest prize for himself. He has prevented the course of justice. He has lied to the lords. He is a traitor to the realm!”
The guards around Abrax stepped closer, their swords inches from his throat.
“Hothgar,” said Abrax almost nonchalantly. “Stop acting like a prat. First of all, must I remind you that I am immortal. Your demons and their little swords cannot kill me. Secondly, I am the son of Nyxobas. I only want what is best for the realm. You’re a fool to question my motives. You have no right to interfere with my business.”
Hothgar shook his head. “The lords have cast their ballots. You are to be imprisoned.”
The air in the room dropped to a frigid temperature, the violet lights seeming to dim, suffocated by shadows.
“No,” Abrax barked, but Ursula could see fear in his eyes. “I will not be imprisoned again.”
Hothgar didn’t reply, simply nodding at the guards.
So much happened in the next few moments that it was almost hard for Ursula to process it.
Wings sprouted from Abrax’s back as he transformed into his demon form, talons emerging from his feet and hands. As his wings beat the air, a chorus of screams erupted. Abrax’s oneiroi were attacking the other guards.
If Ursula’s eyes hadn’t been instinctively drawn to Bael, she might not even have noticed what he was doing in all the chaos of the battling guards. But as it was, he drew her gaze like a magnet.
Across the room, Bael grabbed the chain attached to his collar and ripped it from his jailor’s hands. Once free, he raced across the room, his wrists still bound. The chain dragged behind him, clanking over the stone. Ursula’s blood roared in her ears at the sight of him, a confusing mixture of relief and fear.
“Ursula!” he rasped, his throat hoarse and his eyes burning like embers. He’d gone completely feral. And yet…
Even though her pulse raced wildly and her heart pattered like a frightened rabbit, she stopped herself from moving away from him. Bael won’t hurt me. Not even when he’s twisted by the old way.
When he reached her, he clamped his fingers around her waist—a little possessively, but not too hard. “Ursula. Are you all right?”
She blinked, taking in his stunning features—the beauty of a Greek god, all golden skin and black hair sweeping over his forehead. And despite the red bloodlust tinging his eyes, he actually sounded concerned. “Are you all right?”
“I will not hurt you.” He stared into her eyes. “I’m in control.”
Ursula could see a war raging within him—a desire to drink her blood combined with a need to protect her. “Are you sure?”
He nodded solemnly, and she breathed in the faint scent of sea air that curled off his powerful body—and under that, the scent of sandalwood. The smells of his homeland, where he’d once lived as a human, before the gods dragged him into their wars. Tightening her fingers, she resisted throwing her arms around his neck. Gods, it was good to see him, but he was clearly pretending to be feral, and she wasn’t going to blow his cover.
Around them, chaos reigned. Abrax’s oneiroi fought Hothgar’s guards in a whirlwind of clashing blades. And above it all, Abrax hovered above them, leathery wings beating the air rhythmically.
“We need to go,” said Bael.
“We need to bring Kester.”
Bael scanned the chaos. “There.” He pointed with his manacled hands. Across the room, Kester fought a pair of demons. Blood flowed from a cut on his arm, but he’d managed to grab a sword.
Ursula sucked in a sharp breath. “Let’s grab him and get the hell out.”
She made a move for Kester, hurrying across the room by Bael’s side. But before they could make any headway, Hothgar’s guards leapt into their way. Unarmed, Ursula dodged. Bael snarled, twirling the chain attached to his neck over his head like a cowboy’s lasso until he slammed it into the closest guard’s face.
“Kester!” Ursula shouted.
Kester turned to look at her, green eyes flashing while two oneiroi guards surrounded him. “There are too many! I’ll find you outside.”
Before Ursula had a chance to argue, Bael grabbed her arm. “This way. He’ll be fine.”
With guards closing in around them, she didn’t have time to debate. On her way to the doors, she caught one last look at Kester. He leapt into the air. In a single spinning move, he decapitated the two guards who’d surrounded him.
Oh. That’s why they call him the Headsman. And apparently Bael was right. He’d be fine.
Without looking back, Ursula turned to follow Bael’s enormous form. He led her through the melee, clearing a path with brutal but precise lashes of his chain. By the time they reached the tunnel, the crowd had thinned.
Bael and Ursula raced down a granite passage that opened into the cold, lunar air. From here, Ursula caught a glimpse of the carriage at the end of the platform. But ten yards from the tunnel’s opening, Bael pulled her in close to him, pressing her body against his.
She stared at the tunnel�
��s mouth, where five lunar bats swooped onto a platform. Each one carried a rider dressed in black. And as the riders slipped off the lunar bats, Ursula recognized their eerily smooth movements. A shudder danced up her spine. The golems from Abrax’s roof.
“Bael,” she whispered. “They’re golems.”
Bael put his fingers to his lips, whistling. At the piercing sound, the golems swiveled to look at them.
“What are you doing?” Ursula hissed. “They’ll tear us to pieces.”
As if he didn’t hear her, Bael was already charging toward the golems, spinning the chain above his head.
Ursula raced after him. Bloody hell, Bael. There is no way we can defeat five golems armed only with a piece of chain.
The golems spread out at the tunnel’s mouth, moving as gracefully as dancers. Ursula knew the slim blades they held in their hands made them absolutely lethal.
Just as Bael moved within range, he cut sharply right, sprinting toward the edge of the platform. Ursula followed, running as fast as she could with the manacles around her hands, and with the stupid gown trailing at her ankles.
A shadow passed over their heads as another bat winged into view, heading right for them. Ursula’s heart plummeted—until she recognized the silver hair fluttering behind the rider, the wide eyes. Cera—riding on the back of her lunar bat, Sotz. Ursula’s chest unclenched just a bit at the sight of her little friend.
“Ursula, get over here!” shouted Cera as she swooped along the edge of the platform.
The dusty lunar air burned Ursula’s lungs as she raced full speed toward Cera, golems close behind her. From the periphery of her vision, she could see Bael’s enormous form slamming golems off the side of the platform.
“Ursula!” Kester’s voice boomed behind her, and she whirled to see him bursting from the tunnel, a horde of guards behind him.
“Now!” yelled Cera. “We’ll get Kester on a second pass.”
Ursula’s throat tightened. No. I’m not leaving him here. Golems were surrounding him, and he had no idea how dangerous they were.
“Kester,” Ursula shouted. “Watch out.”
She reached into herself, channeling her rage. Her mind blazed with images of Abrax, of Emerazel—everyone who wanted to control her—until hot wrath simmered in her blood. With a volcanic explosion of fury, flames erupted from her body, searing hot. Good thing flames wouldn’t burn a hellhound like Kester.
The fire raced for the golems until a fireball engulfed them. She didn’t stop to watch their bodies melt, or to wonder if they felt pain, she simply screamed for Kester to run to Cera’s lunar bat. She heaved a sigh of relief as he made it aboard.
Overhead, wings beat the air. On a second lunar bat, Bael swooped lower, slowing the flight just long enough for Ursula to jump on in front of him. Frantically, she swung her leg over the bat’s body, struggling in her long dress, until the hem hiked up to her thighs. She was barely clinging onto the creature, completely unsteady. But bloodlust or not—she knew Bael wouldn’t let her fall.
Chapter 7
Ursula nestled into Bael’s powerful body as they soared into the air, the wind whipping at her red hair, and he curled his arms protectively around her. With her wrists still bound, all she could do was hunch over and grip the bat’s fur, but Bael’s muscled arms kept her in place.
Around them, lunar moths fluttered—a wild murmuration of glowing. Bael guided the bat between the streams of enormous moths, and Ursula gaped at the strangely familiar beauty of the lunar landscape.
Ursula leaned back into Bael, breathing in his delicious smell. “How did Cera know to be outside?”
“I told you I was in control.” His breath warmed the shell of her ear.
Distracted by his allure, it took Ursula a moment to piece together what he was getting at. “So when Hothgar found you wandering his manor, consumed by the old way—” She looked back into his eyes, finding that they’d returned to their natural color—a pale gray that stood out sharply against his dark eyelashes.
“I was faking it.”
“And how did you convince him that Abrax had me prisoner?”
“That was easy. I let them torture it out of me.”
Urusula’s stomach clenched. “Bael! Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“But how did you know about Kester?”
“I didn’t know about Kester. I only told them about you. Hothgar must have searched Abrax’s manor after he requested the audience with Abrax.”
Ursula glanced at the lunar bat soaring through the air just behind them. Cera sat crouched around Sotz’s shoulders while Kester clung to the fur on the bat’s back, his expression grim. Hellhounds weren’t exactly meant to fly. Ursula’s pulse raced when she caught a glimpse of the enormous flock of lunar bats in hot pursuit of them.
Ursula whistled to catch Cera’s attention. “Bats! Behind us!” she shouted over the wind. Good enough to get the point across.
Bael leaned in closer to his bat, his body pressing against Ursula’s, and he whispered into the bat’s ear. They picked up speed, winging for the sheer cliff face that ringed the crater. As the cliff surged into view, Kester called out a warning. At the last moment, they plunged downward along the cliff’s face. Bael steered his bat sharply into a dark passage carved into the rock.
Ursula pressed her head against Bael’s chest as they flew through the darkness, trusting only the bat’s sense of echolocation to not slam them into the rock. After what felt like an eternity, violet light began to fill the passage again.
Ursula sucked in a deep breath, stunned by the strange beauty around her. The mushroom cavern was just as she remembered it. A forest of bioluminescent fungi on the floor, and above them, the distant sound of the bat colony. Up ahead, she recognized the path that led to Bael’s manor.
“Bael. Are you sure the manor’s a good place to hide? Seems like the first place they’d look.”
Bael grunted. “You need to trust me, Ursula.”
Of course. How could she forget Bael’s favorite habit of failing to tell her anything in advance?
But as they came to the entrance to Bael’s manor, they simply flew on past, soaring deeper into the forest.
Nearby, Cera whistled, pointing back toward the mouth of the cave at a lunar bat pursuing them.
“Hang on,” shouted Bael.
Ursula clutched the bat’s fur as they nosedived into the mushrooms. Ursula’s pulse thundered in her veins at their speed. They swooped between the massive trunks of the fungi, until—with a jarring bump—they landed beneath a large cap, skidding in the dirt, Ursula clinging to the bat’s fur.
For just a moment, they caught their breath, then Bael dismounted, pulling Ursula off after him. He walloped the bat on its rump, and the creature soared into the air again, past the tops of the mushroom caps.
Just a few feet away, Cera and Kester landed with an audible thump. Kester slid off Sotz, while Cera stayed crouched on her bat’s shoulders.
Bael nodded at her. “Led ‘em on a proper chase.”
“Of course, my lord,” said Cera.
Cera whispered in Sotz’s ear, and a moment later they were winging into the air, leaving Bael, Kester, and Ursula under the giant mushroom.
Bael beckoned Ursula and Kester closer, until they were huddled around the mushroom’s base. He whispered softly, “We need to wait until Cera draws them off. No talking. You must be absolutely still. A bat’s hearing is excellent, and they will signal to their riders if they can sense us.”
Bael knelt on the ground, closing his eyes, apparently listening for the sound of bats. Ursula glanced at the manacles still binding her wrists. At some point, she’d have to get the bloody things off of her.
For just a moment, she caught Kester’s eye as he rested his back against the flesh of the mushroom. Blood flowed from the wound on his shoulder, and he looked exhausted. She wanted to heal him, but she’d have to wait until all the bats were out of earshot before she began chan
ting anything.
She looked between the two men, who studiously avoided each other’s gazes. How strange to have Kester and Bael in the same place—two ancient enemies, forced to work as allies, but not making eye contact with each other.
And on the off chance that Abrax had been telling the truth—both of these men had been there when her mother had been killed. Could it really be true, or had Abrax just been screwing with her?
After a few minutes, Bael rose, holding out his hand to Ursula. “I think they’re gone. We need to move.”
With Ursula’s manacled hand in his, he started into the mushroom forest, leaving Kester to follow.
“Wait,” said Ursula. “Kester’s hurt. I should heal him first.”
Bael stopped, but didn’t turn around. “Be fast. If he can’t keep up, we will have to leave him. We cannot afford stragglers.”
Nice.
Ursula turned to Kester, who rolled his eyes. With her hand hovering above Kester’s shoulder, she incanted Starkey’s Conjuration as quickly as she could, watching as his skin healed, knitting together without so much as a scar.
“Thanks,” said Kester. “We need to stop making a habit of this.”
“Let’s go.” Already, Bael was taking off at a stiff pace between the mushrooms, slipping between the stalks with a practiced stride.
Ursula’s bare feet sank into the rich soil as they walked. She kept her eyes peeled for the carnivorous caterpillars that had almost eaten her on her last visit. But after a while, she realized that in this part of the forest, the only caterpillars crawled high above their heads on the ancient, towering mushrooms.
They moved without speaking, the silence deafening. Ursula’s few attempts at conversation were met with monosyllabic answers from both men. It wasn’t clear if Bael was still worried about being heard by their pursuers or if he just didn’t want to talk in Kester’s presence. It did seem like they had a past, and their awkwardness around each other was quickly giving credence to Abrax’s claims.
Eternal Magic Page 4