“Oh yes, you will.” Lincoln opens door and barks orders down the hall. “Guards, take the King Emeritus into custody.”
Octavia gasps. “No! Not your father. What will the people say? He’s already stepped down from the throne.”
A muscle feathers along Lincoln’s jaw. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that, Mother.”
Not for the last time, I look at Octavia and wonder. Who is this person and what have you done with Octavia?
“This is outrageous,” bellows Connor. “I stepped down from my throne for you. I’ve spent years doing everything I can to keep your son safe.”
“Except tell me what’s going on.” Lincoln opens the door wider; a half-dozen guards march in.
Connor shrinks back. “I won’t go. Hasn’t my name been ruined enough for you? Everyone sees me as a weakling for stepping down so young. Now, I’ll seem like a criminal, too.”
“Use the enchanted manacles,” says Lincoln in a low voice. “He won’t fight you then.”
The Captain of the guard pulls a set of iron links from his waistband.
Connor raises his hand. “Stop right there, boy. I ruled these lands when you were only a babe suckling your mother’s teat. You do this to me? There will be consequences.”
The Captain hesitates. Quick as lightning, Lincoln steps in and grabs the man’s forearm. “Make no mistake, I’m the real power in Antrum. Have been ever since I was nine years old. Who are you really afraid of, solider?”
The Captain nods and snaps the manacles onto Connor’s wrists. The barest purple hue flashes through the dark metal.
Connor raises his chained hands. “Since you wish to humiliate me, I won’t go quietly.” He raises his voice to a howl. “I want everyone to know this wasn’t my choice!”
“Take him by the back stairs,” commands Lincoln. “Lock him up in the dungeons.”
Connor pauses mid-rattle. “You…You don’t mean that.”
Lincoln raises his brows. “I mean that precisely.” He gestures to the guards. “Solitary confinement until we can get the boats ready to travel to Striga. We leave as soon as possible.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” The Captain of the guard grips Connor’s shoulder, angling his body toward the door.
“Wait,” pleads Octavia. “The Anointing starts in a matter of hours. You want to handle this quietly, fine. But take Connor to Striga after the ceremony is over. We can’t Anoint the new Earl if you’re both in Striga. At least, give me that.”
Lincoln and I share another long look. We’ve spent three long years investigating, gutting and rebuilding Acca. Octavia’s spent decades plotting against them. Plus, there’s something to be said for getting some additional insight before we see the Striga Elders. “I’d like talk to my father first, anyway. Would be good to get his thoughts before we go.”
“Exactly,” adds Octavia. “Xavier can help you. Besides, the Council won’t meet until midnight.” Her mismatched eyes glisten with tears. “Please.”
“Fine,” states Lincoln. “He goes to the Council after the Anointing.”
Octavia steps closer to Lincoln, grasping his right hand in both of her own. “My son, I’ll ask you one last time. Please reconsider—”
“Don’t try me, Mother. Not when it comes to Maxon.”
I move to stand by Lincoln’s side. “Connor will visit the Elders, Octavia. Consider the subject closed.” I glance over to the wall clock and then turn to Lincoln.
“Based on the message Dad sent last week, he should’ve arrived an hour ago for his play date with Maxon. We need to find him.”
“Yes, let’s leave,” says Lincoln. He glances pointedly at Connor. “We’re done here.”
Chapter Six
Lincoln and I walk down a deserted corridor, our footsteps drumming out a quick, anxious rhythm against the marble floor. At the end of the gilded passageway stands a huge set of wooden doors with the Rixa eagle carved across them. My heart thuds harder in my chest.
That’s the West Gym, all right. According to Dad’s message, he and Maxon should be inside right now, enjoying their play date.
Ever since I spoke to Hildy, I’ve wanted to hold my son, feel his heart beating, and know that my baby’s safe. Now, he’s only a short walk away. At last.
As we close in on the gym doors, Maxon’s excited voice carries through the hallway. Lincoln and I share a nervous smile. Our boy’s here with his friends, enjoying time with my father.
He’s safe, Myla. Breathe.
I return my attention to the closed door. A new figure materializes before it—a man who’s tall, handsome and ebony-skinned. Like always, he wears a white kilt and leather sandals.
“Anubis?” I stop in my tracks, my voice raised in shock.
“Greetings, little Scala.” He bows to Lincoln. “Your Highness.”
“Hello, Anubis,” says Lincoln. “Nice to finally meet you.”
“And you as well.”
Much as I love small talk with a demigod, I’d really rather be either hugging my kid or getting advice from my Dad.
“What are you doing here, Anubis?” I ask.
That thirsty look gleams in his eyes. “I think you can guess.”
He’s right. I can.
“You want me to dreamscape with Nefer again.”
“Yes, I do.” He shakes his head. “Believe me, I’d convinced myself it was over. I thought I didn’t need to see her again. But after yesterday?” The lines of his face tighten with pain. “I must see her. I can’t leave things the way I did.”
“Why do you need me, then? Can’t you walk over and visit her?”
“My power is limited to gateways,” explains Anubis. “Your dreamscapes act as a gate between realms, so they fall into my domain. I can easily hide who dreamscapes with whom. However, walking around Hell means passing into Armageddon’s realm, and there, I can’t hide my actions. Should Armageddon ever discover the truth about Nefer and me, she’ll be sent to the torture pits in a heartbeat.”
I nod slowly. “Understood.”
Anubis’s face brightens. “You’ll help me, then? I only need to speak with her for a few minutes. It won’t take long.” His eyes are all pleading and watery, but I’m low on sympathy today.
“You already know why I can’t help you. I’m tracking down Nefer’s intel about a royal abduction, so I can’t lose any time now.” I eye him carefully. “Unless you’re willing to make a trade.”
“Name it.”
“You’ll owe me a favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
“I’ll let you know when I know. But considering that the royal abduction rumors involve Armageddon, you can bet it will have something to do with him.”
Anubis rubs his neck. “Fine. One favor.”
“Good, you’ve got two minutes.”
Lincoln loops his hand around my waist. “Do you want me to go with you?”
“No, I’d rather if you went to watch Maxon. I’d feel better knowing that one of us is with him.”
Lincoln kisses me gently on the forehead. “Be safe.” He steps toward the door, pauses, and then turns to Anubis. “If this scheme of yours hurts my wife in any way, I will hunt you down and destroy you utterly. Do we understand each other?”
Anubis chuckles, but there’s no humor in his laugh. “Yes, I do, actually.” When he next speaks, his voice comes out as barely a whisper. “I know what it’s like to feel so strongly for a woman.”
My heart goes out to the guy, er, demigod. He really has it bad for Nefer. Turning on my heel, I march down the hall, waving for Anubis to follow me. “Come on, buddy. Let’s go find your girl.”
# # #
Once again, I summon my dream-version of Purgatory’s Arena. This time, making the connection with Nefer is easy-peasy. Within seconds, she stands in my virtual stadium. Kiya sits on her shoulder, his yellow eyes glowing with an inner light.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again,” says Nefer.
“Same here.”
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“Not sure why you summoned me, however. I’m afraid I’ve nothing new to tell you.”
“No worries.” I shrug. “I didn’t summon you to talk.”
Nefer’s pulse starts pumping so hard, the veins in her neck throb. “Then, why am I here?” Based on the fact that she’s about to go into cardiac arrest, I think Nefer knows exactly why I summoned her.
“One guess, Nefer.”
The earth rolls and buckles beneath our feet. Then, it bursts apart. A circular wall rises from the broken ground to enclose Nefer and me. Just like before, the round structure is made from a shifting fabric of slithering vines. A section of the wall pulls apart, reminding me of curtains parting on a stage. Anubis races through the new opening, stopping only when he stands right before Nefer. They stare at each other, their mutual energy filling the air.
Damn, these two need a room.
I rub my palms together. “My work is done. When I leave, you two can hang out here as long as you want. Whenever you’re ready for the dreamscape to end, just wake up your real-selves.”
“Please don’t go yet,” says Nefer quickly.
Anubis looks like someone kicked him in the gut. Suddenly, I’d rather be anywhere else than here. “Actually, I need to vamoose.”
Nefer pins me with her big blue watery eyes. “Please, Great Scala. Don’t leave me alone.”
“He’s not going to hurt you.”
“He could.” She’s totally grasping at straws now. “People get injured in dreamscapes all the time.”
“True, but we all know that won’t happen.”
“Please.” Her teary face makes my pity-meter go into overload. Damn, I’m such a sucker.
“Fine, I’ll stay. Two minutes, that’s what I promised Anubis.”
“Thank you,” says Nefer.
Anubis’s mouth trembles with disbelief. “Why don’t you want to be alone with me?”
Nefer shrugs. “There’s nothing new to say.”
“But there is a new way to say it.” He steps closer, invading Nefer’s personal space. “I haven’t touched a woman in two hundred years. Not since you.”
Nefer sets her hand on Anubis’s chest. I can see his heart rate skyrocket from here. “Anu, this is exactly why I wanted the Great Scala to stay.” She starts staring at his lips like it’s her job. “You know I can’t control myself around you.”
Anubis’s mouth winds into a sultry smile. He really is way too attractive to be stuck watching the doorway to Hell. “Is that such a bad thing? I don’t remember any complaints before.” He leans in closer.
I raise my hand. “And this is me leaving.”
Nefer rushes to my side. “Please, stay. I’m begging you.” She fixes me again with her big blue eyes, all watery and overwhelmed. “Keep your distance, Anu. Please.”
Anubis gives his kicked-in-the-balls face again, but he stays away from Nefer. The man had a plan, and the lust demon in me admires anyone who tries to use seduction to get what they want. But ultimately, his plan failed. Now, I need to get back to my family.
Nefer turns to Anubis. “What did you want to say to me?”
“I came with a question for you.”
Nefer nervously fiddles with the golden tie at her waist. “Ask away.”
“Did you ever love me, Nefer?”
Wow, way to dive right into the deep end, Anubis. I look down, pretending that a particular clod of earth is super-interesting.
“You know the answer to that question, Anu. Verus had a prophecy. I am to be Queen of Hell. It’s my destiny to break into the Netherworld and try to kill its ruler. Two hundred years ago, that was Onyx. Today, it’s Armageddon. I can’t leave until my task it done. That has nothing to do with my feelings for you.”
A long pause follows. I decide to get while the getting is good. “Since we’re all talked out, I’ll take my leave.”
“One more minute,” says Anubis. “She won’t stay unless you’re here.”
And the sucker-a-thon continues. “Sixty seconds.”
Anubis’s tone turns pleading. “Verus can’t predict anything with certainty. She sees multiple futures and tries to make the one she wants come to pass. You still have a choice, Nefer. You can escape today. Leave now. Be with me.”
“And if I escape, what would happen to all the after-realms? Verus says that if I am not Queen of Hell, they will all fall.”
“I don’t care about the after-realms,” retorts Anubis. “You’re all that matters. I’m an immortal with powerful magic. I could carve out some small corner and keep you safe. Keep us together.”
“At the expense of everyone else?” Nefer shakes her head sadly. “No, Anu.”
My heart goes out to Nefer. I know exactly how she feels. I didn’t ask to become the Great Scala either, but when my number got picked, I had to do my best. You can’t turn your back on your destiny, no matter how much that destiny sucks.
Anubis’s eyes glisten with pain. “It’s been so hard these last two hundred years. Knowing you’re so close and that I can’t see you, can’t touch you. Is there no way we can be together?”
“Yes, there is.”
“What? Name it.”
“Fight with me. Set me free and together, we’ll kill Armageddon.”
Anubis exhales a long sigh. “My powers don’t work that way, Nefer. I’m the Gatekeeper of Hell. He’s the King. Our powers balance each other. He can’t hurt me any more than I can hurt him. The only way he can fight me is by hurting someone like you.”
When she next speaks, Nefer’s voice cracks with emotion. “Then, we’ve nothing left to discuss.”
There’s an almost audible crack as Anubis’s heart breaks. His shoulders slump with disappointment. I turn around, pretending to be fascinated by the empty stands.
“Let’s have one last talk,” says Anubis. “The Great Scala could leave us so we could catch up. I miss my friend.”
“No, Anu. Seeing you like this, it only makes things harder for both of us. It’s over.” Nefer turns to me, her mouth quivering on the verge of a sob. “Great Scala, I beg you to end this dreamscape.”
Anubis rounds on me. “Wait, please.” Bit by bit, he turns to Nefer. “Are you absolutely certain?”
A long pause follows before Nefer speaks again. “Yes, my choice is to end this. Now and forever.”
“In that case, I follow your wishes.”
I do as she asks, but as I break the dreamscape link, I remember how I felt about Lincoln when he and I first got together. I must have sworn to end things with him for good at least a hundred times. Nefer sounds like Myla part deux.
Forever, my ass.
Chapter Seven
I stand against the wall of the West Gymnasium, a chamber that’s a classic example of interior exercise design circa 1500. The room is long with plaster walls and a wooden floor. The arched ceiling is filled with a latticework of long wooden beams. Like everything else in Antrum, there are no electronics here. Instead of the workout machines that fill every gym in Purgatory, here I find exercise dummies, weights and wooden bins filled with weapons. Lots and lots of weapons.
In the center of the room, Maxon and his friends get ready to play a mock-battle under my father’s expert guidance. At this point, Dad’s training seems like one long game. It’s when you get to be my age that he’ll mercilessly kick your ass for hours in a row.
In today’s training, Dad makes Maxon play a general, which is what he’ll really be one day when he’s full-grown. My throat tightens with worry. There are so many years that have to pass until Maxon’s an adult. In the meantime, anything can happen. Like Armageddon.
Don’t show you’re upset, Myla. Maxon picks that stuff up easily, and there’s no reason to ruin his play date. That’s also why Lincoln and I are waiting until the training games are over before talking to my father. Besides, watching Dad and Maxon together is nothing short of magical. There are some moments in life you don’t want to cut short.
Lincoln stands beside me, l
eaning against my same stretch of plaster wall. Across the room, Hildy waits in the far corner, her arms folded across her chest. Every so often, her heavily-lined eyes flicker in our direction before quickly re-locking on Maxon. All the while, her lips soundlessly whisper incantations. Hildy’s obviously already started on the spells to bind her and Maxon just in case he’s ever—
Don’t go there, Myla.
I force myself to focus on my father, who stands in the center of the room, wearing ninja-style loose pants and a grey T-shirt. Maxon and his friends are all dressed as mini-versions of Dad, complete with short-sleeved shirts and loose pants. In this outfit, it’s obvious that my boy’s left arm is covered in black dragon-scales. Our Furor heritage is strong in Maxon, and those black armscales mark him as Furor royalty. Emperor Tempest himself has taken an interest, offering Maxon dragon riding lessons.
Not sure how I feel about that.
Dad leans over Maxon’s shoulder. “Time to get started, don’t you think?” As he moves into a beam of light, I can see how the lines under Dad’s eyes have deepened. Mom says his nightmares are getting worse. Being imprisoned in hell for almost twenty years will do that to you.
“Right, Pop-Pops.” Maxon turns to his friends. “Troops, fall in!”
Three boys hustle to stand in a line before Maxon. They’re all about my son’s height and perfect examples of their respective houses. First in line is Nizam, a classic Horus boy, ebony-skinned and built like a line backer. Beside him stands Tiberius, Prince of Striga. A magical prodigy, Ty already has dreads to his shoulders that are decorated with beads of spell achievement. Next in line stands Raj, Prince of Kamal. He’s also ahead of the thrax learning curve, having already started to raise his traditional hunting animal, an enchanted hawk.
They’re a sweet bunch of boys. Loyal. Smart. Good fighters. A sense of warmth and pride fills my chest. Maxon so clearly leads this little group. He’ll make a great king for them one day.
Maxon’s gaze snaps to the last boy, Uther, who’s decided to sit against the wall beside Hildy. Maxon rolls his eyes. “Don’t be weird, Uther. I said to fall in line.”
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